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<strong><u>Zubway Zip Up</u></strong> <strong><em>©</em></strong> <strong><em>Literocat 2012</em></strong>
<strong>L'etrangier:</strong>
You'd think the trains would be empty at 2:00 a.m., yet there were at least thirty commuters with me. Where were they all coming from? Much too late to be desk jockies. I don't remember ANY of them being in the sleazy strip club I just left. Damn, those women know how to tease! Mostly young and average looking late-night commuters, an obvious, drooling perv or two among them, balanced the few older couples. Nearly all were dressed formally, as if coming from an opera or even clubbing. Here I was, in the overly bight, garish lights, maintaining the balance of the universe in my sport shorts and sweaty T-shirt.
Just ten minutes into my ninety minute ride and I was already bored to tears. Luckily, that changed at the next stop of the limited service train when a mid-thirties, elegantly dressed couple moved from the far end of my car right against the doors adjoining my short bench in the middle of the car. Though wearing a light, open trench coat, SHE was obviously very pretty with well matched full C-cups and a small waist. In fact, she was a near clone to the very beautiful Kate Beckingsale with her long hair over one shoulder and pert ski slope nose. Yum!
She turned to face the door, oddly choosing to stand despite the many free seats, and presented a sweet view of her high, plump ass. I relished seeing that ass without its cover up. My dick would have twitched as much even if I were coming from church. Her husband paid very little attention to her. He kept his distance and barely looked at her. Shortly, she shrugged off the annoying trench and folded it over her left arm. As the coat fell away, my eyes feasted on her black, snug, tailored, strapless finery.
It was an enchanting ass, slightly larger and rounder than Kate's sexy buns! She kept her balance by leaning her left hand on the door, her right on a vertical, stainless steel pole next to me and her legs spread as wide as her calf-length restraint allowed. Her penguin-clad husband ignored her, but everyone else admired her svelte figure. Her bright reflection in the door glass clearly showed how turbulent the ride was since the train jostled and heaved her encumbered breasts, swelling them to perfectly smooth roundness, in their attempted escape's apogee. While her rounded rear cheeks rebounded slightly, I watched her boobs leap, mostly straight up, and wondered how . . . Then I saw . . . She pinched her dress against her sides with both elbows and made them fuller and vertically energetic.
Her foolish husband just stared out into the darkness of the tunnel. As I admired her shapely calves and studied higher, I noted her dress was actually midnight blue and held a subtle tension on her body. Suddenly a paradox slapped me. The dull, brushed silver streak down the FULL length of her back was actually a wide zipper with large teeth. The new trend for big and obvious zippers down the full front or back wasn't the surprise. But this one seemed to be inverted. The tang was at the bottom! Maybe it wasn't uncommon, but it was the first I'd seen, and it made sense.
It was open to her knees, about eight inches, to allow her to walk. My middle leg turning to stone alerted me as profoundly as an air raid siren that danger, and Eros, were imminent. When she leaned lightly against my handrail, I lightly stroked her calf several times. She tensed briefly, then relaxed, but never looked my way. With some difficulty, I slid my hand up to her thigh. She leaned and whispered something to her husband.
A few others watched my hand disappear under her frock. Encouraged by her stoicism, and playing to the crowd, I lightly pet her fetching, firm buns over her smooth attire. She whispered something to her husband. Growing bolder, I gripped her hem and, as stealthily as possible, slowly zipped UP her sexy dress. As the dress split open farther, several passengers moved closer to better watch the show. When I wound the zip over her curvaceous keister and exposed her lower cheeks, I was surprised to see the dangling clips of a garter belt since she wore no stockings.
I pulled the zipper higher and exposed beautifully bare, fleshy ass cheeks that felt soft and velvety due to the invisible fine fuzz evenly coating them. She whispered something to her husband. I saw the edge of the barest smile on his lips. I moved the compliant zipper above the highest curves of her toothsome ass and beyond the swell of her small waist. As I peeled the lax textile away and exposed her beauty to the clustered riders, I was surprised again.
At her bared waist was the garter, but over it was a thin line that connected to a thinner line that quickly vanished into her spectacular split cheeks. She whispered something more to her husband<strong>.</strong> He inhaled deeply and rubbed his dick. I rolled the beauty's cheeks apart and admired how relaxed she still was and how supple her seat was. The dizzying spectacle wrested my face closer. Eyes half closed, my lips blissfully contacted her sweet, velvety rear. In a daze, I lightly kissed her bare bewitching bun then licked it. She whispered something to her husband and he unzipped his pants and pulled out a massive, stiff cock.
I pulled the zipper UP as far as it would go without separating. With her frock barely clinging to her body, I peeled the other half away from her sweet, sweet ass leaving her exposed from mid back to shoes. I followed the contours of her incredible raphe south and slowly caressed her swollen labia. Her tiny thong triangle was thoroughly soaked. With my index and middle fingers, I searched and quickly found her tumescent clit. As I nudged it gently side to side, my thumb followed the thin string back into her ass crack and pulled it out as my other hand pulled the thong's waist down.
My nose sucked in a sweet, musky, intoxicating aroma as I watched her pale pink rosebud pulse open. Mesmerized, I followed the fragrance with my tongue and happily licked the source. As I scratched her labia thru the sheer bit of fabric, I writhed the thong over her resplendent rump and down her well-toned legs. I slipped my fingers into her slick slit and blindly spread her lips. As soon as she stepped out of her panty, she spread her feet apart before I asked her to. She whispered something to her husband and nodded at his dick. He let his slacks fall and firmly gripped his stiff pole. Either in profile or in his reflection, the shocked, gawking riders watched him pump his prick, but only when they could stop staring at his gorgeous wife.
I jerked the zipper UP the last notch of the dress and it sprung open, whipped to her front and fell onto her arm with the coat. Now free, her breasts collided and danced a jig before settling into a becharming, train-induced rhythm. Her buttocks elegantly stiffened and shifted as she folded the dress neatly over her arm. The beaming beauty stood with feet wide apart and totally, radiantly naked, except for a garter belt and shoes, still facing the doors.
I put her garments on the bench and ignored the other riders completely as I kneeled behind her and slid my fingers, deeper than earlier, back into her wet box. Pulling her hips, ass and fragrant crinkled muscle close to my face, I pressed on her back and pocketed her panty. Her face was slightly flushed as she turned it toward her husband.
She gasped as she realized a red head was sitting near her husband with her top off and her hand between his legs. As she watched, another woman stood against his ass, forcing red to shift her hand to his front. I wrapped one hand around her chest and twisted and plied her swelling nipples on her dangling, beguiling boobs while I tasted her nectar on my fingers. Her husband turned his back to her so he could feed his stiff dick to the seated, busty red head.
I pressed my beauty to bend farther so I could visually feast on her hairless quim. It was beautiful! Even her clit stood up and unfolded her inner lips as if designed and carved by the great maker as a model of genital perfection. I tasted her elixir, spread her lips for deeper access and used two fingers to coax more of her heavenly nectar from her. She moaned and bent lower. While still eating her fleshy folds, I finally freed my anxious dick from its prison and rubbed it against my captive's leg.
Her chest was red, her breathing deep and fitful as I finger pummeled and drank her sweetness. My breathing was rapid as blood ran from my brain to my dick. I so wanted to suck her tits and fill each of her holes with my cream! With a quick check on her husband, who was deep in red's throat, I assumed permission to drill deep into one of her lower portals. After spreading a large bead of Cowper's across my glans, I fed my wet thumb to 'Kate'. She attacked it ravenously. When she wrapped her warm tongue around it and sucked it strenuously, my eyes crossed and my knees buckled. I braced myself on her supple ass.
As she twisted slightly and pinched her man's ass, I pulled my thumb back. He struggled a moment to pull his weapon out of red's mouth then turned around and fed it to his wife. He reached into a pocket and pulled out a foil wrapper for 'Kate'. Red pulled her nipples and tugged his sac as he rigorously stuffed his wife's throat and pinched her nipples. I decided I wanted her to cum hard and chose to stuff her supple hole. After taking a last, longing look at her perfect, pretty pussy, I dragged my raging hardness toward her steamy snatch and paused - barely.
'Kate' passed the condom to me, but the blonde intercepted it. She held it in her mouth as she reached back and unzipped her strapless, yellow mini dress. Her eyes twinkled in lust and giddiness as she tossed the dress on a bench and, except for shoes, stood naked before the crowd. I only had seconds to admire her beauty, especially her bald pussy, when she knelt, sucking the condom past her teeth. She pulled my dick away from Kate and sucked it into the condom. Her rolling and wrapping the sheath around me with her tongue was enough to make me pop if not for my intense self control. Someone pulled her soft ass up and away from me and filled another of her holes.
'Kate's' perfect pussy expected me and I couldn't wait to fill her. As I pushed deeply into her velvet glove, I vaguely heard a distant groan and grunt - mine. Just seconds after filling her pussy, I was gripped firmly, snugly against her warm, musky ass and I heard her whisper to red to 'Please, dahling, fill his ass with two fingers and squeeze his pro-ztat when he eez deep in my troat again.' When he reentered her throat, I felt her release her strong, internal grip on my cock. As I began to primally pound her puda, I forced a thought of how to rub her G-spot when I was ready to cum. The harder I slammed her, the more she moaned and the greater her musky fanny aromas extended.
Quickly approaching climax, I angled my stiff cock so it bumped her G. Her reaction was immediate and intense. She tried screaming around her husband's cock as she orgasmed. Her contractions pounded my cock incessantly until I could not stop the roiling stream of cream from charging up my stiffness and deep into her cunt.
Red found the man's prostate and he exploded into 'Kate's' throat within seconds of our orgasms. She shuddered and collapsed as I caught her and guided her to a seat. That's when the forgotten crowd broke into a slow clap and applause.
The three of us sat gasping for air and staring unfocused into the onlookers. 'Kate's' garter belt neatly framed her perfect, gaping pussy and added an air of smuttiness. Her puffy, chaffed, reddened and lusty inner lips jutted obscenely from her soggy snatch. She licked her lips as she stared at four men directly across the way who were panting and madly jerking their exposed cocks. When she spread her knees wider until they touched me and her husband, he slipped two fingers into his wife and watched the other men react. She moaned as he wiped her dessert bowl and tasted the fruits of her arousal. When he dug in for more, he nodded at me to join him and I eagerly did.
When my fingers joined his inside his wife, the wet, fleshy cavern became warmly snug and comforting. 'Kate' gasped and slid to the edge of the bench. Our fingers moved in tandem then randomly which, I'm sure, created a firestorm of fireworks inside a perfect, roiling pussy. Her navel to her chin turned bright, mottled crimson. When hubby removed his fingers, I had room to find and tattoo her G and she screamed an explosion of ecstacy. Red knelt and licked clean the man's still stiff dick. When she was satisfied, she moved to me and licked 'Kate's' and my cum off my condom and wilting cock.
While 'Kate' gasped to recovery, the blonde beauty took over sucking my bared cock until I lurched deep as possible into her throat and painted it with my sperm. Red and the blonde then got busy sucking face, sharing my brew and fingering each other on the floor before us.
I turned to the couple and thanked them for a fantasy come true. THEY thanked ME for helping their exhibitionist/sex-with-a-stranger-in-public fantasy. Providing a condom reassured me that they were somewhat cautious since I was sure this wasn't their first time fucking in public. "I'm happy you had a condom and only wish we had more time so I could fill her other holes publically - or in private." I hoped my hint wasn't too subtle.
Like both of them, my legs were spread wide open for the audience. The man smiled at 'Kate' and she nodded. He reached into his jacket and handed me a card. It read <strong><em>'Will and Kate Prince invite you to visit'</em></strong> and their address. Her name WAS Kate - PRINCE? Smirking, with breasts heaving, she said "You may call on us any time and return my thong on your next visit!" SO! I could plan on another visit! She invited me to suck and play with her impressive boobs until they had to leave. I also stole the opportunity to savor and delight in her gymnastic French tongue.
<strong>Earlier:</strong>
<strong>Le mari:</strong>
"Sweetheart, here comes a likely chump heading for the subway. At least he looks clean. Let him get a little closer and we'll let him 'follow' us. You know how to swing those sexy, delicious buns to get his attention and make his dick instantly hard. He'll be helpless, just like all the others. I'm happy you already removed your stockings and I'm curious how long he will take to start touching you. I challenge you to be a speechless mannequin and let him move you as he wishes. Let's go!"
<strong>La femme:</strong>
"Must ve use le zubway again? Eet is zo dirtee! I don't vant to soil mes vetments. I hope he eez a gentleman. A mannequin? Could bee interesante."
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> * < Please vote BIG and leave constructive comments. Thanks....
====7/16/12 seminal image: stripping woman on train, husband and others watch
[Notes with my muse: Lois, is this tale your permission or forewarning that you think I'm ready to write the quad+ NYE delta?]
============== 1 chars, 2629 words =======Submitted | posted=7/xx/12 | 7/xx/12 ========
[g ck 7/20/12] ===== 11 hrs to 1700 7/20/12 ==========
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<em>Mmmm</em>. Another event to celebrate—my husband's birthday. I pulled the covers over my head and slithered down his body, stopping first at his nipples, then at his belly button and then at his stiff prick. With the covers surrounding me it was like I was in a dark cave, so dark that I could only find my away around by touch. Of course, I was using the tip of my tongue to do the touching so I used my imagination a lot to help me visualize what I was doing. That upped the level of intensity quite a bit.
I dragged my tongue along the bottom of his cock until I reached his opening, pausing a moment to taste the salty precum. Swirling my tongue around, I put just the slightest amount of pressure on my lips and began to leisurely take him into my mouth.
A thrill ran through my body when he moaned. I trembled when he reached down and ran his fingers through my hair. When he applied pressure to the back of my head, forcing me down on him, I almost came. I was ready to begin some serious sucking when, unexpectedly, he yanked the covers off my body.
As I adjusted to the dim light in the room I heard him whisper, "As much as I was enjoying that, I want to see you. Come on top of me."
It was <em>his</em> birthday. I was supposed to be pleasing <em>him</em>. Our love-making was so intense, though, I'm not sure who got the most pleasure. Not only did I climb on board and take him inside me as deep as I could, I leaned back, placing my hands on his knees, so he could watch his cock slide in and out of me. When he squeezed my nipples I just about exploded, my orgasm fueled by the hot jism he was blasting inside me.
I fell forward on top of him, gasping for air, and laughed. "That was fast," I said.
"And fantastic," he said. "Am I gonna get my usual birthday present later tonight?"
I sat up a bit and smiled at him. "Of course. Along with another one of your favorites—zucchini cake."
"Oh, man," he said. "Zucchini cake and..."
I put my finger on his lips and whispered into his ear. "Shhh. Don't say it. Just <em>think</em> it. Think about it all day."
He put his hands behind his head and sighed. "As if I'll be able to think about anything else."
******
Well, I could hardly think about anything else either. My legs were still wobbly when I got to work. It was as though my orgasm and my anticipation of giving my husband his birthday present had sucked all the energy out of me. I don't know how many times I had to go to the ladies' room to rub my clit, but doing that only increased my lust. I mean-seriously-I wasn't about to come in the rest room. I'm too noisy for that, so I just let my frustration build.
I left work two hours early to get the groceries I needed for the birthday celebration—filet mignon, some champagne and, of course, zucchini. My recipe called for two cups of grated zucchini and experience told me that an eight inch zucchini would suffice. I could get a bigger one but, you know, <em>waste not, want not</em>.
As I perused the bin holding the zucchini I found an unusual one. It was the right length—eight inches—but was also shaped like the letter <em>J</em>. The end of the zucchini curled around and was about three inches long and, unlike the rest of the zucchini in the bin, still had a lot of the stem attached. That part was brown with a rough texture. As I stared at the somewhat mutant zucchini it seemed to be calling to me—<em>buy me, buy me</em>. I decided that it was a zucchini fit for a special occasion, so, of course, I bought it.
I raced home and got everything ready to make the cake—bowls, mixer, flour, eggs, nuts and my food processor. I'm not one to shred a zucchini by hand. It's too time-consuming and I usually wind up scraping skin off my fingers. Satisfied that I could make the cake as though I were on an assembly line, I jumped in the shower, dried off and put on my favorite royal blue short robe—and <em>only</em> my short robe.
My first chore was supposed to be the shredding of the zucchini. When I picked it up, however, I squeezed it to check its firmness and was shocked that it felt exactly like a stiff prick. It was firm but still gave just a little bit. On top of that the skin was smooth and almost silky. Again it seemed to call to me—<em>use me, use me</em>.
Use me? What could it mean? I began to think that the zucchini was demonic because, after about a minute of staring at it, I understood what it was telling me. I almost ran to the bedroom, whipped off my robe and slowly—very slowly—began to ease the zucchini into my pussy. Oh, God. It felt so good. The cool skin mixing with my hot innards created an unbelievable sensation.
When I had it about six inches inside me the stem began to press against my back door. Dare I? The demonic fruit called to me—<em>do it, do it</em>. "Yes," I whispered. "I will."
Moving even more slowly I slid the fiendish fruit even deeper, moaning as the rough edges of the stem caused me both pain and pleasure. "Harder," it said. "Faster."
I jammed the green monster into both my openings as deep as I could and turned it into a piston that plunged in and out of me. I screamed at the top of my lungs when I came but, before my orgasm subsided, the zucchini whispered, "Again. Harder and faster this time."
Harder and faster. I thought that was impossible, but it wasn't. I used both hands to jam it inside me, moaning, "Uh...uh...uh...uh..." with each thrust. Finally I let out an animalistic howl that echoed throughout the entire house.
I was spent, almost unable to move. The demon zucchini, however, was buried so far inside me that it required quite the effort to remove it. When I did a torrent of my juices flowed out of me, creating a puddle on the bed. "Just great," I mumbled. "I'll have to change the sheets." I sighed and, using one finger, picked up the zucchini where it curled upward. I couldn't believe how my juices made it shine. I was also fascinated by the long strings of viscous liquid that dangled from it.
Naked, I made my way carefully to the kitchen. I cut off the stem and, without washing the zucchini, dropped it into my food processor and shredded it. My juices seemed to coat the sides of the food processor so, not wanting to waste them, I used a spatula to scrape the shredded zucchini and my juices into a bowl. I then assembled the cake, shoved it in the oven, changed the sheets, showered again, flopped onto the bed to rest a bit, played with myself in both the places the zucchini had been, put on my robe, ran back to the kitchen, took the cake out of the oven and ran back to the bedroom again. I was unable to relax, though, because my husband walked into the house and called to me.
I was so weak from my orgasms that I could barely walk, but the lecherous look my husband gave me seemed to energize me.
"Wow," he said. "You look fantastic—kind of wild. Anything happen?"
"Uh uh," I said. "I was just rushing around to get the cake done. Would you care for champagne?"
"Sure," he said. When he tried to undo my robe I slapped his hand away. "You're just gonna have to wait." I was about to tell him about the filet mignon when I heard the zucchini's voice in my head—<em>eat me, eat me</em>.
Trembling, I said, "I...um...bought some filets but I...I think we should have some cake and then, you know, I'll give you my present."
"Sounds good to me," he said.
My hands were shaking as I cut off two slices. When my husband opened his mouth to take a bite all I could think of was his cock in <em>my</em> mouth. I almost giggled when he said, "Oh my God. This is the best you've ever made. There's something different about it, something I can't put my finger on."
I slid off my robe and pressed against him. "Yeah," I said. "It's a secret ingredient. A special one. Come on. It's time for your present."
Normally I would have gotten our tube of lube but the demon's words echoed in my mind. "Eat me," I whispered. "Eat me."
Oh my God. I writhed and wiggled like a maniac as his tongue probed me. After a couple of minutes I rolled onto my stomach and repeated the zucchini's words. "Eat me," I said. "<em>Eat me</em>."
I came in a heartbeat when his tongue probed my tight hole. The next words out of my mouth were mine, not the possessed zucchini's. "<em>Fuck me</em>," I cried. "Take your birthday present."
"I...I'll get the lube," he mumbled.
"<em>No</em>," I shouted. "Just do it." After all, I had done a lot of preparation with the zucchini and was ready for him.
******
Well, he really enjoyed his present—twice. I could barely move afterward, but had enough energy to laugh when he said, "I don't know what got into you but...well, let's just say that the lack of lube made my present even more intense."
What got into me? I'll never tell.
Then he added, "Whatever that secret ingredient was, use more the next time. The taste was unbelievable."
"Mmmm," I murmured. "Okay. I'll use more." I guess I'll just have to get a bigger zucchini.
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I had just started doing some temp work at a startup software company in Oakland, California doing IT stuff. After a few days I was getting fed up with the young-geeks I'd been forced to work with, most, but not all, were incel's (Involuntary Celibate). Wikipedia describes them thusly:
"An incel is a member of an online subculture of people who define themselves as unable to get a romantic or sexual partner despite desiring one. Discussions in incel forums are often characterized by resentment and hatred, misogyny, misanthropy, self-pity and self-loathing, racism, a sense of entitlement to sex, and the endorsement of violence against women and sexually active people."
It's not that I wanted to hang out with them during lunch in the cafeteria, but I didn't know anyone, and I was trying to be social; hopefully I could meet more people by biding my time.
I got the feeling that they thought I was a snob and too good for them: OK, well, I am actually, too good for them, not a snob, but anyway, they'd start to get all pissy and butt-hurt when I didn't want to grade women on their looks. Their favorite person to laugh at was one of the receptionists: she was a fat Lebanese woman named Zulaykha. She was my age, in her mid-40's, around 5' 2", 325-lbs., she always wore her long wavy-hair in a ponytail that fell down to her glorious bottom. She was unique in that she had the cutest freckles all over her face: she's the only Arabic woman I'd ever seen with them! Her body looked so soft and inviting with her huge tummy, arms and ass. I was smitten, and went out of my way to flirt with her like crazy; hell, I even asked her out once, but she informed me "There's no dating at work..."
Anyway, that Friday, after Zulaykha had sat down to eat her lunch, one of the little pricks told an extra-shitty, misogynistic and racist fat-joke. When I didn't laugh, they wanted to know why:
"Damn bro, that was totally hella funny!"
I sighed, "Was it?" irritated because he felt he was entitled to not just his kicking-down on someone who he perceived was lower on the social ladder but was affecting his voice with a "blaccent": it was embarrassing, hell, he's as white as they come!
"Lookit'er, she's a hecken fat pig!" one of them scoffed as she took a sip from her drink then a bite of her sandwich.
"Is she?"
"Dude, anyone that fat shouldn't be eating anything..."
"Why?"
"Lookit all those fat rolls, she even has side boobs, that's totally hella gross..."
"Is it?"
"You totally know she's got a big ol' flabby cow-pussy too..." one of them laughed, "Would you fuck her?"
"Oh, hell yeah!" I said watching the way the sun played on her hair.
"I totally dare you to go talk to her bro!"
I grinned, "You bet I will... BRO!"
"Dude, nu-uhhhhhh...
"You won't either..."
"Daaamn bro, she's hella disgusting..."
I picked up my things and walked over to Zulaykha's table, "May I sit down?"
"Oh hi, Eddie, sure..." She had the sexiest accent ever!
"Zulaykha?"
"Yes?"
"Can I take you to dinner tonight?"
"I..." she began to want to say yes, but continued with, "Sorry, there's no dating at work..."
"Oh, don't worry about that, I'm quitting in about five minutes..." I smirked.
"My gosh, why?"
"Do you know what an incel is?"
"Uhhh, yeah?"
"Because they're a bunch of self-pitying losers... and I don't want people thinking I'm one of them! Besides, I've had a huge crush on you the second I saw you Zulaykha..."
"But?"
"I'm not seeing anyone, I'm totally legit... I thought we could get something to eat tonight if you're not busy?"
"How about Ethiopian? There's a good place in Oakland, off Grant..."
"Cool!" I smiled, "I live in Hayward..."
"What's yer number?"
"It's..."
After we'd gotten everything settled, we shook hands, "I'll see you tonight then..." but I forgot to let go.
"Uhhh-huuuhhh... But ummm, kin I have my hand back though?"
"Oh, sorry," I blushed.
On my way out, I walked past the table full of the slack-jawed pusillanimous-buffoons that were staring at me, waiting for the punchline of which they expected to be a good joke for them. I shook my head with thoughts of meeting Zulaykha later that evening, "Ya know, I keep thinkin'..."
"What's that?"
"You losers don't even like each other, so why do you hang out together?"
"Fuck you!"
"Thanks for the offer, BRO... But you're not my type!"
"Daah-zaaaam," they laughed at him, "Total sick burn!"
Our first date went very well, because she gave me a great lead and I had a real job on Tuesday!
On our fourth date we went for a walk after dinner: we'd worked up to holding hands!
We had been dating about two months, when one blustery Saturday evening in November we were out walking, and it was threatening to rain. We were about a mile from her house when the sky opened up and it began dumping buckets on us: by the time we got home we were drenched, and right as we stepped through the door the power went out, plunging us into darkness.
"You, OK?" she asked concernedly.
"Oh, sure... a bit cold though..."
"Then let's get warm under the blanket an' snuggle on the couch..."
"Mmmmmm, this is nice," I purred once I'd gotten my shoes and wet jacket off and was under the warm quilt with her.
"Oh, hey, I keep forgetting to tell you: almost all of IT got canned yesterday..."
"No way, seriously?"
"Yep, they'd set up spy cameras in the ladies' toilets and were posting them on-line!"
"I knew they were creepy little shits..."
We went on talking, but the rain pouring down on the roof was having a hypnotic effect on the both of us and we fell asleep.
When I awoke, I had no idea what time it was, but it was undoubtedly very late, the power hadn't come on yet, and it was still dumping outside...
Being so close to Zulaykha was electrifying; she was so warm and soft; I wanted her; I needed her! The very thought of feeling her bare skin was overwhelming. The mad desire engulfed me: my heart was racing... I was trembling with uncertainty as my cock stiffened in the anticipation... My yearning fingers sought out the flesh of this woman that I knew I wanted forever.
Up under her blouse I probed, causing her breathing to become labored and erratic. I searched out the deep folds and rolls of her sides, then up under her big doughy, sweaty arms.
I then wormed my way through her bra to her erect nipples, pinching, pulling, massaging... She was letting out moans and little squeals of delight.
She kissed my neck, ears, and mouth: her lips were moist, her tongue decisive. Sliding down my zippered fly, her hand was hot, sweaty, and strong. In a matter of seconds, her squeezing and pumping had milked out enough hot stickiness that I could hear a spack-spack-spack-sound while she stroked my stiff shaft.
Holding her fingers to my mouth, she pushed me gently away... There was the faint rustle of fabric drawn over flesh, the disengaging pop of one... two... three... four brasier hooks... a muffled, fip, fip, fip, of her skirt's buttons being undone... and finally, the softest whispered, swifffff... of panties being drawn down from her bountiful backside.
Off came my pants, underwear, and shirt, when she sucked a nipple between her teeth and the dizzying pleasure of her tongue dancing over it was making me groan.
We embraced, our mouths joined again, and tongues wrestled, playing between lips and teeth, while I caressed her sides, becoming mesmerized by the deep folds of her fat rolls.
I hefted her breasts, and just like her wonderful tummy, their great size had allowed gravity to pull and stretch them to a length that caused them to droop and hang flaccidly over her big belly. I was trying to imagine all the adorable stretchmarks that surely must cover them.
Getting onto my knees I explored her navel with my tongue while cradling her stomach in my arms, it felt so good to hold, caress and kiss all over. From her heady aroma, a combination of spicy cologne, bitter-sweet sweat, and strong animal secretions, it was obvious she appreciated the adoration of her superfluous tummy. I was wondering: by itself, alone, what must it weigh? That thought in itself was thrilling, so I began with some experimental nibbles, then hearing how much she enjoyed that, I continued with much harder biting. I liked the feel of her cellulite in my teeth, but she really got off on my trying to "inside-out" her belly button by sucking on it.
Pushing me to the floor, she dangled those pendulous boobs of hers in my face. While I played with her nipples, she raised her hips and slowly dropped them again, thus allowing me to slip neatly inside of her: I was finding the weight of her tummy pressing down on me both, comforting and erotic.
At first it was a very slow and deliberate up and down motion, but after a few minutes she sped things up causing her thick oozing juices to flow out of her, creating a soul-satisfying, splip-splap... splip-splap... splip-splap-sound.
"R-r-r-ugh, mrr-ugh!" she huffed and growled through clenched teeth, grinding faster and faster... "Uh...uh... uh-huh! Uh-huh! Uuuuuh-huh!" she was trembling, quaking and shaking...
"Huuuu, huuuuu, huuuuuugh..." I let it all go, squirting pulse after pulse into her, "UUUUUGH!!"
The very second I had finished, I slapped her thigh lightly, indicating I wanted her to get up, and just as she did, I slipped further down under her in time to catch my hot come that was leaking out of her and into my mouth. Greedily slurping it all down, I was methodically scooping and digging the last little bit out of her vagina, then set to work on her labia, then her clitoris.
"OH GOD... OH GOD... OH GOD! Don't ssss-stop, don't stop, don't stop!" but then, "No, wait, stop, stop, stop!"
I fully realized what I was doing, because I knew if I asked her, she'd more than likely have reservation about the whole thing and tell me it was way too weird for her. So, taking a chance, I continued:
"I... I have to... Wait... stop, I'm gunna, I'm gunna, I'mmmm guhhh... Ooooooh, ohhhh-OOOOOOH! DON'T STOP EDDIE, PLEASE DON'T STOP EDDIE!"
Suddenly, a steaming hot torrent of pee came shooting out into my mouth: its flavor was very strong, salty, bitter, satisfying, and delicious! I had to swallow as fast as I could, I didn't want it to get on her carpet, but I really wanted to savor, not just the flavor, but the moment too...
"How did you know!" she giggled.
"What?" I asked sliding out from under her titanic-ass.
"That I have a pee-fetish!"
Wrapping her in my arms and nuzzling her ear, I whispered, "I didn't... I just hoped... you wouldn't mind... too much..."
"Ummm, c-can I be very, ummmm, c-c-candid w-with you?"
"Of course..." I sucked on her ear lobe.
"W'lll, ya see, I... I've always had this, wellll, fantasy..."
"Whatever you want... I'll do it!"
She sighed before continuing, "I... I need you to pee on my bare feet after, after we get out of bed later this morning..."
"Alright... but just your feet though?"
"Uh-huh, I do that every morning in the shower, then I jerk off... I've never been able to get the angle just right though..."
"Mmmmm, I have to watch you do that sometime, please!"
"But you can't do it anywhere else, OK? Then you have to lick it all off, and suck my toes, especially between my toes..." her voice took on a wistful quality in that last part.
"Just as long as it's not a dominance thing..."
"Mmmm, no, no, I have OCD, obsessive compulsive disorder, if you haven't noticed I'm very neurotic..."
"That's OK... I think it's absolutely adorable... Anything else?
"Ohhh, an' after that... I... I... I have to pee in your, your, your... Eddie, I reaaallly neeeeeed to face..." she whined, sounding like a little girl.
"That sounds nice: anything else?"
"Then make love to me in my bottom..."
"Go on... Whatever you desire little girl..."
"Wwww-would you, would you eat your come out of mmmm-my butthole then too?
"I love you... Never stop being you!"
"I know you do. That's why I can tell you what I need..."
THE END
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"This is the path to interracial fun and true bisexual harmony," said Dieter Von Detten, and he smiled at his new friends Zanele Dumisani and Ayanda Lerato. The Black couple returned Dieter's smile with mixed feelings. The husband, Zanele seemed a bit nervous but Ayanda the wife seemed quite excited. In the basement of Dieter's townhouse, located in the City of Durban, South Africa, the three of them had wine and discussed their rather unique interests. This was a great moment in the lives of all involved. A Black man, a Black woman and their bisexual White male friend, getting together to explore their sexualities and push the envelope a little bit. Life in South Africa doesn't have to be boring.
Dieter is the President of SABC or the South African Bisexual Club, and Zanele Dumisani and his wife Ayanda Lerato are the first Zulu couple to be inducted into its membership. The club has Chinese members, Japanese members, Dutch members, English members, Indian members, and so on, but there has been one glaring omission up until today. Dieter fought the directors of the club in order to make it accessible to Black couples. The man is a true progressive in spite of his Afrikaner roots. This is a historic moment for Black folks and White folks alike in the great nation of South Africa...
"I'll toast to that," Ayanda Lerato said, and the curvy, dark-skinned and short-haired, big-bottomed Zulu woman winked at her host. Tall and lean, with blond hair and blue eyes, Dieter reminded Ayanda of the Hollywood actor in that heist movie. The one with Vin Diesel. Zanele Dumisani looked at his wife Ayanda as she smiled at their host Dieter and gently touched his arm. Ever since Zanele mustered up the courage to tell Ayanda about his bisexuality, life has been quite the roller coaster. As it turns out, Ayanda is quite eager to try some freaky things, while Zanele is more reserved. Isn't that funny?
"I am all for experimentation, but within reason," Zanele Dumisani said, and Dieter nodded in agreement while Ayanda smiled. The three of them finished their drinks and then got down to business. Ayanda got the ball rolling, just as both men knew she would. Grinning, Ayanda stood up and slowly removed her green and White summer dress, revealing her curvaceous body. Zanele and Dieter admired Ayanda's curvy body, especially her big tits, wide hips, thick legs and big round ass. Zulu women are sexy as hell, and men the world over know about them.
"Such a gorgeous woman," Dieter said, and he smiled at Ayanda, then began undressing as well. Zanele looked at Dieter as he got naked. The Zulu gentleman nodded in appreciation as his sexy wife Ayanda began to twerk, showing off her thick Black ass. At the same time, Dieter stripped naked, and both Zanele and Ayanda marveled at his long and thick White cock. Dieter smiled at his guests. The bicurious Zulu couple was in for a treat. Dieter has been active in the bisexual swinger scene of South Africa for quite some time and always wanted to fuck a Black couple. The bisexual Afrikaner has been with Black women and Black men, but never both at the same time.
"Oh my," Ayanda said, and she drew closer to Dieter, and grinned. Dieter nodded at Ayanda as she grabbed his big White cock and began stroking him. The Zulu woman evidently liked what she saw. Lots of Black women are fascinated by big White cocks and Dieter could tell that Ayanda Lerato is one of them. When Ayanda leaned over and took his cock into her mouth, Dieter did not protest. At the end of the day, the ladies do what they want and the men must go with it. This feisty Zulu woman wants to suck the big White cock of a bisexual South African man and there's no stopping her. Let the swirl fest begin...
"Go for it, darling," Dieter murmured as Ayanda knelt before him and began deep throating his big White cock. The curvy Black woman was horny as hell and wanted some dick, this much was evident to all present in the room. Zanele watched as his wife Ayanda sucked their new friend Dieter's big White cock. A lot of Black men have strong feelings about certain Black women's fondness for big White cocks. Well, it must be said that a lot of Black men have a hidden fondness for big White cocks themselves. Zanele is bicurious, and has been watching bisexual porn and interracial gay porn for quite some time. This both disturbed and aroused him.
"Zane, come here, we both know you want this," Ayanda paused to say, and she winked at her husband while licking Dieter's cock. Zanele looked at Dieter, who smiled at him and nodded. Happy wife, happy life, and all that, right? Zanele seemed a bit hesitant. When a Zulu man sees his Zulu wife suck a White man's cock, he feels all kinds of things. In Zanele's case, he began to salivate, and his big Black cock hardened in his pants. Ayanda smiled as Zanele approached her and Dieter. Without further ado, the bicurious Zulu man officially joined the bisexual interracial festivities. Dieter was quite curious about the whole thing. Who loves big White cocks more, Zulu women or bisexual Zulu men? Time to find out!
"Delicious," Zanele said as he began sucking on Dieter's balls while Ayanda continued to deep throat the bisexual White dude's big cock. Ayanda smiled lovingly at her proud Zulu husband as he let go of a lot of bullshit and joined her in sucking Dieter's cock. Lots of bisexual Black men and bicurious Black men have an appreciation for big White cocks but they often hold back because they think Black women won't approve of them. Well, Zanele is a lucky Black man of Zulu descent whose sexy wife Ayanda wants to suck big White cocks alongside him, instead of being close-minded or judgemental. Isn't that awesome?
"This is so hot," Dieter groaned, and the South African bisexual White dude smiled with contentment as the horny Zulu couple sucked his cock and balls. After Zanele and Ayanda got him hard as a rock, Dieter grabbed a condom and put it on, since he was ready to fuck. Ayanda got on all fours and Dieter entered her with a firm thrust. The sexy Zulu woman twerked her big Black ass as the well-endowed bisexual White dude began fucking her. At the same time, Zanele stroked his big Zulu cock while watching Dieter fuck his wife Ayanda. Grinning, Ayanda beckoned for Zanele to come closer. Ayanda is a good Zulu wife who doesn't want her husband Zanele to feel neglected.
"Give me that dick, Zee-Man," Ayanda said, and Zanele grinned, then pressed his big Black cock against her lips. Ayanda began sucking Zanele's big Zulu cock while Dieter fucked her. The feel of a big Black cock in her mouth thrilled Ayanda, as did the feel of a big White cock in her pussy. Zanele and Dieter exchanged a smile as they serviced Ayanda at both ends. The two bisexual men had their hands full with the sexy and super horny Zulu woman. After doing it like this for some time, they switched things up.
"Here I come," Zanele said, and he put Ayanda on all fours, spread her thick Black ass cheeks and smiled. Taking some lotion, Zanele lubricated his wife Ayanda's booty hole. Putting on a condom, Zanele pushed his big Black cock into Ayanda's booty hole. The curvy Black woman groaned in pleasure as her husband began fucking her in the ass. Dieter watched the whole thing and smiled. Zanele gripped Ayanda's hips and fucked her vigorously. Dieter had a lot of fun fucking Ayanda's pussy earlier, but what he really wanted was Zanele's ass...
"Get ready for me, handsome," Dieter said, and he grabbed a new condom and some lube, then rejoined the action. Zanele felt a bit nervous as Dieter came up behind him. Gently, Dieter lubricated his own cock, then applied lubricant on Zanele's smooth Black ass. Ayanda cried out as Zanele buried his big Black cock into the depths of her asshole. Well, if it's any consolation to Ayanda, her husband Zanele is about to find out what it's like to get ass fucked, thanks to their good friend Dieter. Without further ado, Dieter pushed his big White cock into Zanele's asshole...
"Hmm, Zanele, you're fucking your Black wife while a White man fucks your ass, how does it feel?" Ayanda asked, laughing while getting fucked. Zanele's answer was to smack Ayanda's big ass even as he thrust his big Black cock even deeper inside her booty hole. Ayanda began grinding against Zanele, driving his big Black cock into the depths of her asshole. Meanwhile, Dieter was on cloud nine, with Zanele's virgin booty swallowing his big White cock. Dieter has fucked Indian women, Indian men, Chinese women, Chinese men, Arab women and Arab men, and some foreign Black guys and Black gals, but this was his first time fucking a Zulu man. This was an exquisite experience...
"It's intense, but I love it," Zanele groaned, and he sighed happily as he experienced ultimate pleasure. With his wife Ayanda's warm, tight asshole gripping his big Black cock while Dieter's big White cock filled his asshole, Zanele was close to cloud nine. This is the kind of interracial bisexual action that a lot of bisexual Black men and bicurious Black men dream of but cannot achieve because the Black community is biphobic as fuck. Well, luckily for Zanele, his wife Ayanda and their friend Dieter are total freaks. The bisexual Zulu man got to have his cake and eat it too...
"Hmm, fuck yeah," Dieter said, and after plowing Zanele's asshole, he pulled out of him. Zanele sighed as Dieter's big White cock exited his Black ass. The bisexual Zulu stud continued to fuck his wife Ayanda's ass. Ayanda squealed in delight as Zanele spanked her big ass while fucking her roughly. The curvy, busty and big-bottomed, dark-skinned Zulu woman loved the big Black cock in her booty hole and if loving it is wrong then she doesn't want to be right. Zanele fucked Ayanda's asshole until the freaky, feisty Zulu woman tapped out. Ayanda sighed as Zanele's big Black cock exited her butt hole. Good times, for real...
"You fucked us both, now I want him to do you, I want to see it happen," Ayanda said to her husband Zanele while looking sharply at Dieter. Normally, Dieter is a top with couples, but tonight he was feeling freaky. As Ayanda tossed her husband Zanele a new condom and lube, the bisexual White South African stud got on all fours. Zanele grinned and came up behind Dieter. The White dude got to fuck Ayanda's pussy and Zanele's ass, so it's only fair that Zanele gets to fuck Dieter's ass. Ayanda grinned and like a helpful wife, she held Dieter's ass cheeks open for her husband. Zanele kissed Ayanda as he pushed his big Black cock into Dieter's pale ass. Black dick is king everywhere...
"Give me that ass," Zanele said as he gripped Dieter's hips and thrust his big Black cock up the White man's asshole. Dieter moaned as he got ass fucked for the first time in ages. The bisexual Afrikaner had never experienced the power of a Zulu cock before. Dieter loved the feel of Zanele's big Black cock up his ass so much that he began to squeal. To silence Dieter's squeals, Ayanda pressed her pussy against his face. The bisexual White dude got the hint and began eating the Black woman's pussy while the Black man fucked his ass. Ayanda smiled as Dieter licked her pussy and sucked her clit while Zanele plowed his Black cock up his White ass. What an awesome thing to behold, for real...
Following hours of wild, provocative, boundary-crossing and wickedly fun sex, Zanele Dumisani, his wife Ayanda Lerato and their pal Dieter Von Detten lay on the carpet, spent. Sexual exhaustion is totally a thing, folks. The Zulu couple and the White dude had a party for the ages. The three of them had just done the kind of stuff even porn stars can only dream of. A bisexual interracial threesome involving a sexy Black woman, a bisexual White man and a bisexual Black man? Totally awesome! The worlds of porn and erotica are lagging behind the kind of fun which seemingly mundane Black folks and their friends are having behind closed doors. Here's to hoping that they can eventually catch up!
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<i>This is my first attempt, please respond with constructive criticism.</i>
*****
I grin as you open the gate, your smile intoxicating me. You walk down the driveway to the car and I pull you into a kiss, my arms holding you tight against me. We break the kiss and look each other deep in the eyes, your hips pressed against mine. We both know this is a day long waited for and the anticipation is intense for us both.
I open the door and you slide into the car, your tight skirt molding to the curve of your sexy butt and you catch me staring at the gorgeous view. Our eyes lock again and I lean in to kiss you again, my hand sliding up your left thigh, stopping just at the hem of your skirt. "I'm not wearing anything under there" you murmur and I groan as you grab my wrist and pull my hand higher to cup your shaven pussy. I groan as my fingers feel your heat and the liquid already starting to dampen your lips. I slip one finger between your folds and gently rub it over your clit and I kiss you hard again feeling your breath quickening with excitement. I force myself to pull away, my chest heaving as I try to catch my breath. "I want you so badly, babe, let's get there fast" I put your bag into the boot then climb in and pull off, making my way to the highway, my hand running over your leg after each gear change.
"So where are we going?" you ask, "what's the surprise?"
"Zulu Falls Lodge." I grin, taking my hand and sliding it up your thigh. You smile at me and place your hand over mine and give it a squeeze, sliding our hands higher up your leg as you let your legs fall open and you slide your hand up to your sex, dipping a finger into your wetness and lifting it to my lips to taste you for the first time. I suck your finger into my mouth, my tongue curling around it and cleaning off every trace of your juices.
You grin a naughty grin as you return your hand between your legs and allow your fingers to explore and play, the hem of your skirt riding up around your hips and exposing you to me. My eyes dart from the road to you and drink in the beautiful sight if your fingers dipping in and out of yourself as you play for me. I slow the car down and stop on the side of the highway to be able to give your show the attention it deserves.
You pull me in for a kiss and whisper against my lips "Enjoy the show." and you push me away from you to my side of the car and twist your hips and open your legs wider to give me the most incredible view. You rub and tease yourself, your eyes locked to mine until your pleasure becomes too much and you close your eyes and let your head fall back as your fingers speed up on your little pleasure bud, the sounds of your wetness driving me crazy and the scent of you nearly pushing me over the edge. I pull my shorts down, releasing my hardness and I wrap my fist around it, pumping my hand up and down, my breathing matching yours, ragged, fast, shallow, as we both near our peak. I groan out your name as I cum, your eyes opening as I do so and the sight adding to your pleasure and pushing you over the edge and I reach over and pull you head to me for a kiss, my hand grabbing a handful of your hair as I slide my hand over yours and slip a finger into you, feeling your muscles grip me as you ride the waves of pleasure.
Suddenly we realize where we are and disentangle ourselves from each other, pull our clothes into a semblance of order and resume our journey, our hands lightly linked on your thigh. "Smoke?" I ask. "Yes, please." you reply and reach for the box and lighter and light us each a cigarette. We drive the rest of the way making small talk, the sexual tension only made worse by the memory of what we just shared. As we drive through the gates I point in front of us and show you the four giraffe grazing a short way off and the duiker hiding amongst the trees. You watch eagerly for more animals as we drive down towards the lodges.
We stop and I come around to your door, leading you by the hand towards the front of the lodge, stopping you just before the edge of the building and stepping behind you before covering your eyes and guiding you to the edge of the pool. I turn you to the right direction and take my hands off your eyes and you see the beauty of the gorge and the falls before you. "It's beautiful" you whisper. I wrap my arms around you and pull your back against me, resting my head against yours. You wrap your arms over mine as we watch the sunset playing on the water. You lean your head back against my shoulder and sigh in contentment. I kiss your neck up to your ear and whisper "Let's get going." I take our bags out of the car while you sit watching, dangling your feet in the pool. I grab my backpack that I prepared before we left and take your hand and pull you up for a kiss. "Shoes on, darling, we have some walking to do." You quickly dry your feet off on my towel and slip your sneakers on. We follow the path down through the bush, walking slowly and talking, stopping for a kiss or three as we go. It starts to get dark so I pull out two torches and hand you one so you can see clearly. I see the uncertainty in your eyes and take you in my arms and say "Trust me, we're safe." You press yourself against me and kiss me deeply before we go on.
Just as you feel like this has to end sometime we come out on the bank of the river. "Not far now, my sweet," I say, "just a little farther." We clamber over the rocks, the roar of the falls getting louder as we draw close to it. At last we reach the cauldron and stand enjoying the spray that drifts over us like a mist. I lead you to a flat rock and sling my backpack off my shoulders and reach inside to get the blanket and spread it out and light candles all around us, just as the moon clears the edge of the gorge walls and bathes everything with a silvery sheen.
I pour you a glass of the cousins and hand it to you, my brandy already premixed in my flask and I draw you down to sit in front of me, your back resting against my chest as we sit silently and watch the light play on the water.
My hand strokes up your arm and over your shoulder, brushing your hair away from your neck and I bend down and kiss you below your ear you tilt your head off to the side and put your glass down while reaching up to my head with your other hand and turn your head in for a kiss. My hands move over your stomach as the kiss deepens, moving up to cup your breasts and massage them through your top. I shift to the side and lie you down the blanket. My hand strays down to the hem of your shirt and lifts it up over your head where I stop, your arms trapped in the shirt and your face covered except for your mouth and I kiss you again. Hard. Then I pull the shirt off your arms and run my hands down the underside of your left arm and over your flank down to the waist of your skirt, my fingers brushing your skin and then lightly dragging my nails back up your side up to your arm and then down, following the curve if the top of your bra and down the other flank back to your waist, slowly dragging my nails up the centre of your tummy and up to your breasts.
I follow the bottom of your bra around your body to your back and you roll slightly so I can get my hand behind you, feeling the clasp holding it on, undoing it and pulling it away from your body. My eyes feast on the beautiful breasts exposed to my hungry gaze. I dip my head down and flick my tongue out over a nipple then blow on it making the flesh contract and stiffen up. My teeth nip down gently as I play with your nipple with my tongue. You arch your back pushing your breast into my mouth and I start to tease your other nipple with my fingers, tugging pulling rolling twisting, learning what you like and don't.
I break off the kiss as you start tugging at my shirt, pulling it off me and pressing yourself against me, your nipples hard against my chest as you hold me tight. My hand reaches down under your skirt, the time for teasing gone, the urgency and anticipation taking over and I slip a finger into your tight wetness, my palm rubbing your clit as my fingers move in and out, feeling and exploring, touching places I know I want to come back and explore more when we have time to spare. Your hips are rocking under my hand and you reach down to pull me free of my shorts, pushing them down and taking my hardness in your hand. I groan into your mouth " Oh fuck, babe, yes!" as you start to pump your hand up and down my shaft and then wrap your arm around me, pulling me over you and guiding me to your warm wet entrance. I pause and hold myself there, just the tip penetrating you and I lock eyes with you as I slowly slide into you.
You wrap yourself around me and pull me deeper and I kiss you as I bottom out inside you for the first time. I lie there, buried inside you and revel in the sensation of your tight wet walls surrounding me. I pull myself out and slide back into you, setting a rhythm that you match, your body moving together with mine in concert. We grasp at each other, our kisses frantic and rushed, our bodies building toward a peak but I stop just as I sense you about to go over the edge and start a slow rhythm again, dragging you off the peak and building you towards a new, higher one. Your eyes roll closed as your orgasm approaches, the muscles inside you rippling over me pushing me over the edge and I thrust hard, driving myself deep inside you as you join me in falling over the edge of ecstasy. Your cry is a guttural sound of pleasure matched with mine. I hold you in my arms until we recover.
I reach out and hand you your wine and you drink it to the last drop. Then I turn onto my side and pull you close to me and wrap the blanket around us as we talk about our kids and life until you feel a stirring against you and wriggle your bum against my growing erection. "Again?" you ask "an old man like you ready again?" And I grin as I spank your sexy arse and pull you up, pushing you forward over the closest rock...
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"Nothing is impossible for a Zulu man with determination," Paul "Zee-Man" Zithulele said to himself as he walked out of the meeting with Hauser Enterprises human resources manager Rachel Heintz. Just like that, Paul had the job as sales director for Hauser Enterprises, with a starting salary of sixty five thousand dollars. Not bad considering Paul's previous jobs included being a call center operator and a food server at his alma mater, the University of Johannesburg. Good things come to the man who works hard...
The six-foot-tall, athletic and dark-skinned, bald-headed Zulu man strode confidently through the streets of Johannesburg, crown jewel of the Republic of South Africa. Dressed in a dark gray business suit and tie, Paul looked handsome and confident. He stopped at Smita's Flower Shop, got some flowers for his wife Nomathemba "Noma" Zondi. Next, Paul summoned an Uber and headed home, to his townhouse located in the Parktown suburb of metropolitan Johannesburg. Paul couldn't wait to share the good news with his wife Nomathemba. Things were going great...
As the Uber drove through the streets of metropolitan Johannesburg, Paul looked out the window. He saw a tall, blonde-haired and very attractive white woman with a big butt and smiled appreciatively. What brother doesn't like white ladies with big butts? Paul continued looking at folks on the streets and spotted a tall, dark-skinned fellow walking around shirtless. Paul grinned as he checked out the fellow's fine abs. Paul doesn't discriminate and can appreciate beauty in both the female and male forms. No shame in Paul's game.
The Uber finally arrived in the heart of Parktown. Paul exited the Uber and thanked the driver, an old Xhosa fellow named Jimmy, and then looked at his house. The two-story, four-bedroom townhouse had a small garden and was surrounded by a twelve-foot-high stone wall. The place once belonged to a wealthy Afrikaner named Hans, who had been quite reluctant to sell it. Paul and Nomathemba put their money together and purchased the townhouse, and it has been their home for the past three years.
"Hello Harriet," Paul said, patting his little Jack Russell terrier on the head as he opened the front door. The little dog bounced up and down, thrilled to see her master. Paul has been fond of small dogs like Jack Russell terriers and Chihuahuas for most of his life. In Paul's younger days, his folks had a small dog named Dakota who was simply delightful. Paul looked around his home, and wondered where Nomathemba was. He couldn't wait to tell her how well the interview with the corporation had gone...
Paul heard some sounds coming from upstairs and frowned. Where was Nomathemba and what was she up to? Paul took some meat strips from the fridge and dropped them on the floor, and Harriet eagerly wolfed them down. Paul put some cold water in Harriet's bowl and then headed upstairs. Perhaps Nomathemba was watching television or something. Paul knew how much his wife liked the TV series Queen Sono. Paul was fond of the TV series Shadow. He found it more realistic and gritty than the female-led, fun but melodramatic Queen Sono. Just a matter of preference...
Nomathemba Zondi is a lady who likes the finer things in life. The five-foot-eleven, curvy and dark-skinned, statuesque South African beauty was born in the environs of Pretoria, and moved to Gauteng to attend the University of Johannesburg in the mid-2010s. Nomathemba studied civil engineering, and graduated with honors. Along the way, Nomathemba met Paul Zithulele, a tall, handsome brother who simply took her breath away. Paul looked good, and he was smart, with ambition to spare. Nomathemba and Paul fell in love and got hitched shortly after graduation.
A couple of years after graduating from the University of Johannesburg, Nomathemba got herself a great job working for Turnkey Engineering Solutions, one of South Africa's top engineering companies. Nomathemba was making six figures and living it up, but things weren't going so great for her husband Paul. With the South African economy taking a serious hit during covid, the only jobs Paul could find involved serving food at campus restaurants or working at a call center. Considering Paul had a business degree, and could do so much work, the current state of the affairs pained him. Nomathemba was standing by her man...for now.
"Noma, I would do anything for you, including things that Paul would never do," said Elliott Buthelezi, and he winked at Nomathemba while spreading her thick dark thighs. Nomathemba grinned as Elliott brought his handsome face to her crotch and inhaled her womanly scent. Elliott buried his face between Nomathemba's thighs and began eating her pussy. The short, slim, dark-skinned and mustachioed fellow simply loves the taste of Nomathemba's pussy. No shame in Elliott's name...
"Go for it, Elliott," Nomathemba murmured, and the tall, curvy South African beauty stretched luxuriously on the bed as her lover ate her pussy. Nomathemba has known Elliott for a long time. The two of them have been in and out of each other's lives and it's mutually beneficial. Elliott fucks both women and men, and Nomathemba is one of those rare women who actually like bisexual men. From time to time, Nomathemba gets with Elliott for some safe, discrete fun. The fact that Nomathemba is now married to Paul hasn't changed things between her and Elliott...
"Honey I'm home," Paul said as he reached the second floor, and pushed open the master bedroom door. He bought flowers for his wife Nomathemba, intent on surprising her, but he was the one who ended up getting surprised. For Paul saw his wife Nomathemba stark naked on the bed, getting her pussy eaten by a short dark-skinned dude. Nomathemba's eyes fluttered when she saw her husband Paul standing her. Paul looked stunned, flabbergasted or flummoxed, to say the least. What the fuck?
"Paul, welcome home, I hope the interview went well, Elliott and I started without you," Nomathemba said nonchalantly. Nomathemba winked at Paul, and Elliott looked up, glancing at the man of the house. Elliott smiled at Paul, and then resumed eating Nomathemba's pussy without a care in the world. The lady of the house likes to fuck other men and doesn't give a fuck what anyone thinks. What is the man of the house going to do about it?
"Noma, the interview went well, I got the job, now, you and Elliott better congratulate me good and proper," Paul said gruffly. Just like that, Paul unzipped his pants, freeing his long and thick dark cock. Nomathemba licked her lips hungrily as she watched her husband Paul wave his dick at her. Elliott briefly looked at Paul and nodded in approval. The short fellow likes both pussy and dick, and loves playing with couples so there's no shame in his game. Zulu men and Zulu women have limitless passion and know how to get down and dirty, the rules of religion, culture or tradition be damned...
"Of course, Paul, you are my husband," Nomathemba said, and she sat up, beckoning for him to join her and Elliott on the bed. Paul undressed, revealing his buff, manly body. Just like that, Paul joined in on the fun. Nomathemba kissed Paul passionately, and he caressed her big breasts before giving her big butt a slap. Elliott continued eating Nomathemba's pussy, but kept his eyes locked on Paul's big dark cock. Like the dedicated friend and entertainer that he is, Elliott grabbed Paul's dick and stroked him while sliding his tongue into Nomathemba's pussy...
"That's more like it," Paul said, and he sucked on Nomathemba's big tits while Elliott ate her pussy. From the moment Paul first laid eyes on Nomathemba, one fine day inside the University of Johannesburg library, he knew she was special. The tall, busty, wide-hipped, curvy and big-bottomed, dark-skinned South African gal was sexy as Hell, with the kind of booty that simply wouldn't quit. Paul simply knew he had to have Nomathemba, so he relentlessly pursued her.
"Let me take care of you," Nomathemba said to Paul, and she looked at Elliott, who stopped eating her pussy at once. He'd pleasured her with his mouth and fingers, and she had fun, but now wanted to try new things. Nomathemba got on all fours and took Paul's cock into her hands. Just like that, Nomathemba began sucking Paul's dick and Elliott, taking his cues from her, did the same. Paul grinned as his wife Nomathemba sucked his dick while their friend Elliott sucked on his balls. Let the good times roll...
"Man, this is awesome," Elliott paused to say, and he winked at Nomathemba as they joined forces to suck Paul's dick. When his friend and sometime lover Nomathemba told him that she was marrying her fiancé Paul, Elliott figured their fun times were over, but the fun was just beginning. As it turns out, Paul is bisexual and Nomathemba found that insanely hot. This opened up a whole world of infinite fun for them. As a frequent guest at the Zithulele household, Elliott dutifully entertains both the husband and the wife. Gender equality never looked so good...
"Fill my holes, if you dare," Nomathemba said to her hubby Paul and their pal Elliott, after sharing some serious oral delight together. Paul smiled at Nomathemba and caressed her big black butt. Reaching for condoms and lube, Paul made good use of them, as did Elliott. Nomathemba looked at her two favorite men, and grinned. Both men looked on appreciatively as Nomathemba twerked her big booty for them. South African women got some of the best butts in the world, for real...
"Let's do this," Paul said, and the fun continued. Elliott put on a condom and lay flat on the bed as Nomathemba climbed on top of him. The curvy, big-breasted and big-bottomed Zulu woman straddled her friend and impaled herself on his big cock. Meanwhile, Paul came up behind Nomathemba and caressed her big butt. Spreading Nomathemba's ass cheeks wide open, Paul lubricated her and then pressed his big dick against her butt hole. With a firm push, Paul worked his dick into his wife Nomathemba's butt...
"Oh fuck yeah," Nomathemba squealed, and the tall, curvy Zulu gal moaned in pleasure. Elliott groaned and bucked his hips, slamming his hard dick into Noma's sweet pussy. At the same time, Paul gripped Nomathemba's hips and pushed his dick into her warm, tight butt hole. As her two favorite guys poured their masculine energies into her by cramming their dicks into her holes, Nomathemba screamed like a woman possessed. Elliott's dick filled Nomathemba's pussy while Paul's cock filled her butt hole. Let the good times roll...
After Paul and Elliott rammed their dicks into her holes for a while, Nomathemba took a breather. The sexy, curvy Zulu gal lay on the bed, catching her breath. Paul and Elliott were still horny, though. As Nomathemba looked on, Paul grabbed a new condom and lubricant. Elliott stroked his cock and took a new condom as well. With his wife Nomathemba watching, Paul climbed on top of Elliott, who gripped his hips and worked his cock into his ass. The man of the house has needs and they cannot be denied...
"Oh yeah, ride me," Elliott said, and he winked at his good friend Nomathemba as he slammed his cock into her husband Paul's tight butt. Paul groaned, stroking his cock as Elliott's cock filled his ass. Nomathemba watched, turned on by the spectacle. The sexy Zulu woman caressed her tits and fingered her pussy while watching the hot bisexual action between her favorite guys. Soon, the horny Nomathemba joined in on the fun, much to Paul and Elliott's sheer delight...
"Hmm, that feels good," Paul said, and he lay there as Eliott fucked him sideways. Nomathemba drew near and grabbed Paul's cock. Paul smiled as Nomathemba took his dick into her mouth. Noma is the kind of woman who will suck her man's dick while he's getting fucked in the ass by another man. As far as Paul is concerned, Nomathemba is the perfect woman, for he can totally be himself around her. Paul moaned in sheer pleasure as his wife Noma sucked his dick while their good friend Elliott fucked him in the ass. The three-way fun continued until the man of the house had enough. For the bisexual Zulu man, threesomes don't get any hotter!
"I wish you a fun and safe weekend, thanks for your hospitality," Elliott Buthelezi said to Paul Zithulele and his wife Nomathemba "Noma" Zondi after an afternoon of fun. Paul gave Elliott a manly hug while Nomathemba kissed him on the cheek. Elliott headed out, got in his car and drove home. After their pal Elliott's departure, Paul and Nomathemba took their dog Harriet for a walk, and when they came back, they ordered Chinese food, and watched their favorite soap operas. Just another day in the life of a modern Zulu couple.
|
In my last year of college I had once kissed a few of my girlfriends during a late night truth-or-dare session. Nothing more than a few quick pecks on the lips, it had never happened again, probably a result of promising myself to never again get quite that drunk, and in the ten years since, those kisses had been the entirety of my experience or interest in any form of same-sex relationship. Until tonight.
Five minutes into warming up my Thursday night Zumba class, the door at the back of the workout room opened. A woman I'd never seen before entered and closed the door behind her. She carried a towel in one hand, and a blue index card in the other. Without intending to or realizing it, I stopped moving and stared, causing most of the women in the class, all of whom had been focused on my lead, to turn around to see for themselves what had distracted me.
Zumba combines spicy Latin music and sensual moves into an intense workout. The exhilarating routine feels more like vigorous dancing at a great night club than exercise, and most Zumba students experience incredible changes to their bodies, all the while claiming to be having the most fun in their lives. Many of the women in my Zumba classes are attractive, and even more are in fantastic shape. And every single one of them, myself included, was immediately jealous of the woman with the blue index card.
The warmup routine came to almost to a complete standstill as she made her way toward me at the front of the class. Her body was stunning, emphasized with obvious intent by a black Lycra workout bikini trimmed in hot pink borders. Outrageous Zumba outfits were commonplace, but bikinis were rare if not unheard of. Even women in amazing shape usually had something they wanted or needed to hide, and if they didn't, wearing a bikini to an aerobics workout was something like wearing an elegant cocktail dress to McDonald's: wholly unnecessary, but you could be certain everyone would be looking, and looking we were. I guessed her to be about my own age, somewhere in her late twenties or early thirties, and about five foot nine or ten inches tall. Her body proportions were perfect, her muscles firm and defined while still feminine, and her skin almost glowed with a smooth, natural tan. She had straight, sandy brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, and a gorgeous, compelling face. Watching her approach, sudden strange feelings swept through me that I'd only felt a few times, and never when looking at a woman. I wanted to touch her, to run my hands over the graceful curves and toned muscles of her body, to play with her long soft hair, and to brush my fingers across her face and lips. And then, out of nowhere, I wondered it would be like to kiss her.
Surprise yanked me from my own thoughts. Where had that come from! I had little time to consider it, because she'd arrived where I was standing and was extending her arm, offering me the blue index card. I took it and examined it. She was joining just the Thursday night Zumba class, and her name was Megan.
New students were a regular occurrence. Most often they showed up just before a class, and sometimes, like Megan, they would show up during the warmup. In both cases, either before class when few other women were present, or during the warmup when the class was already moving and working, only a handful of women would learn or hear the name of the new student, who on her first night would then would blend into the class. Some of those new students would become regulars, and some of those would make a large circle of friends, while others would remain relatively quiet and obscure. It was clear that Megan would neither blend nor remain obscure. The room was near still as I greeted her. The warmup music was low enough that the front half of the class would have no problem hearing me. Though I doubted anyone would approach her, women in general being as intimidated by a more beautiful woman as men are by a larger and more muscular man, there was no question that by the end of class every woman in the room would know her name.
"Hello, Megan. My name is Lisa." I started to reach out and shake her hand, then held back, ironically, because I wanted to touch her. I felt that if I took her hand, somehow she'd know I wanted to touch her, that she would perceive in the grasp more than just a welcome. Then I thought I was being ridiculous. My thoughts bounced back and forth like this for a moment, until I finally managed a feeble "welcome to class" while keeping my hands to myself. She smiled and found an open spot at the back of the group and to my right. My eyes, and many others, followed her all the way.
For the next hour I found it difficult to keep my eyes off her. I'd never before looked at a woman with any feeling I could describe as desire, but her sports bikini covered her body in a way that made me want to see more of her. It exposed neither too little nor too much, covering everything that a sensible woman would cover at a public pool or beach, but nothing more. A fraction more material to the outfit and I doubt I would have being drawn back to watching her, while a fraction less material would likely have been considered indecent by the more conservative women in the class. My mind wandered, wondering if the hidden parts of her were as perfect as the rest, and I found myself drawn to watching her dance. I was surprised by the intensity of my desire to catch even a glimpse of what was under the outfit, hoping the animated Zumba routines would pull the bikini back even the smallest bit. It never happened, but this only distracted me more. The level of arousal I began experiencing shocked me, and by the end of class I was in a state of actual sexual frustration. While I found this disturbing, it also motivated a hurried trip home. I skipped the usual routines of showering, changing clothes, and socializing, and a record thirty minutes after class ended, I walked into my house and found Adam in the living room watching television.
By the time he turned to look at me, my shoes and shirt were already on the floor and my pants were on their way to joining them. I saw his eyebrows raise. As married couples go, I would describe our sex life as above average, occasionally great, but it was rare for me to be the aggressor. With Adam watching, undoubtedly curious about where my unprecedented behavior was heading, I continued undressing, removing my leggings and then my panties. Naked now except for my sports bra, I walked over and straddled him on the couch, my knees resting on the cushions on either side of him. With my right hand I reached behind his head and pulled his lips to mine in a lustful kiss, and with my left hand I grabbed his right hand and brought it up between my open legs. The instant he touched me, intense sensations of pleasure coursed through my body. Using both hands I pulled him into the kiss with complete abandon as his hand and fingers explored and caressed my most sensitive parts. But he was being too gentle, too slow. I reached down and grasped his middle and index fingers, squeezing them together, and then forced them inside me. He stopped kissing me, and in the flickering light of the television his eyes registered surprise.
I grabbed his hand lower, pushing his fingers up inside me as far as they would go and ground my body downward. "Finger fuck me. Hard."
My behavior and words were a long way from anything Adam likely ever expected from me, but they had the desired effect. His mouth opened in disbelief, but I watched the look in his eyes change from amazement to lust. I pressed my mouth back to his, and now he kissed back with desire of his own. He spread his legs apart several inches, forcing my own legs further open, and gave me the finger fucking of my life. With each thrust he drove his fingers deeper and deeper into me, increasing the pace. Sometimes he jammed them into me so hard it hurt, but that only made me wetter, even though I knew I'd probably be sore tomorrow.
I had to stop kissing him because I needed to breathe. I locked my fingers behind his neck, arched my body backward, and began forcing my pussy forward and down onto his hand with each thrust. Soon I was fucking his hand as much as his hand was fucking me. At some point I began moaning, beginning to lose myself in the growing sensations. And then during one of the thrusts, Adam's thumb touched my clit. The contact was light, I wasn't even certain at first if it was intentional, but I gasped and arched forward, bringing my head down between my arms. Within seconds I knew it wasn't an accident; my clit was touched with every stroke now, and although his fingers penetrated me hard, the sensations on my clit remained light. A slight shudder passed through me each time I was touched, and the teasing drove me to a point of complete wanton desire. I pulled in close to him, laying my head on his shoulder, and driving myself down onto his hand now with all my strength. Every exhale became an uncontrolled moan, I squeezed my arms and pulled in tighter, I even bit his shoulder, but the torment did not relent. And then, as I reached the point where I didn't think I could bear it any longer, he buried his fingers deep inside me and began massaging my clit hard with his thumb. The orgasm exploded through me in neverending waves, my body shaking uncontrollably with each peak as my muscles tensed and then relaxed. I know I screamed, how many times and how loudly I'm not really sure, but Adam kept fucking me until I managed a few weak gasps telling him to stop.
For a few minutes I could only continue holding him, my head lying on his shoulder, catching my breath. When I finally looked up, I could see the question on his face, and his mouth started to move to give it voice, but before he could speak, I pulled him tight into another deep, passionate kiss. It had been my intention to just lie back now and let Adam fuck me, but as we kissed, I felt myself growing wet again and wanting more. I started moaning softly and running my hands over his back and shoulders. He ran his own hands up and down my arms, over my shoulders and down my back, and then, very lightly, across my ass and down my legs. When he ran his fingers up the inside of my thighs but stopped short of touching me where I really wanted to be touched again, I decided to take control.
I climbed off the couch and Adam's lap. He was wearing his usual lounging-around-the-house clothes: boxer shorts and a t-shirt. Even though the only light in the room was from the television, the erection under the shorts was unmistakable. I pushed him back against the couch, and then pulled off the boxers. His face was twisted into an odd expression, as if he didn't know what to expect next, and it made me smile. I leaned in and kissed him once on the mouth, then turned and straddled his legs again, this time with my back towards him. And then I sat on his lap, guiding him inside me as I lowered my body onto his.
His muscles tensed and then relaxed, followed by a long low moan as he grabbed my hips, trying to move me up and down. Adam and I had used this position only a few times in our six years of marriage, but the one thing I remembered was how much control it gave me. I moved myself up and down on him with slow, small motions. His moaning and attempts to fuck me harder only made me wetter and him more frustrated. Slowly I increased the stroke and the speed, beginning to lose control again when he unhooked my sports bra and yanked it off of me. He reached around and cupped my breasts, massaging them gently at first, then grabbing both erect nipples and pinching them hard. I groaned and surrendered my body to his then, fucking his cock as hard and fast as I could, timing my own motions with his upward thrusts. His breathing deepened and his moans of pleasure grew stronger, and I could sense he was close. I reached down between my legs and began massaging my clit with hard, rough strokes. He came first, but I followed only a second or two behind. I could feel Adam's body pulsing beneath me, and it made my own orgasm more intense. With each wave my body tensed, the contractions so strong to be almost painful, and I screamed each time. I'm not certain how long it lasted, the two of us bound together in a rhythm of pleasure, but when it was over, I could only slump backward against his chest, exhausted.
As we rested, Adam kissed my cheek and neck while he continued caressing my breasts and now sensitive nipples in soft and gentle circles. I closed my eyes and let my body relax to the sensual fondling. Adam was still inside me, and over several minutes as we just sat, quiet and peaceful, he went limp and slipped out with a teasing, excruciating slowness. When that happened, he pushed me off his lap and walked off toward the bedroom, and I stretched out on the couch on my stomach and laid my head on one of the pillows. I don't know how long I laid there, but I think I was close to falling asleep when I felt Adam's hand on my shoulder. He was dressed in his boxers again, standing in front of me, holding out a washcloth. I reached up and took it and found it warm, almost hot. I flipped over on my back and wiped down my entire body. I was amazed at how wet I still was. Adam stood watching, waiting to take the washcloth back from me I guessed, but it turned out there was more.
He did take the washcloth, but instead of walking away, he continued watching me. The continuing gaze started to make me feel odd and overly self-aware. I grabbed another pillow and pulled it to my chest, while turning slightly on my side and pulling up my knees.
"What?"
He took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. It became clear that he wanted to ask me something, and there could be no doubt what it was.
"What?" I continued playing dumb.
"I want to ask you something." He paused, and then, "What got into you?"
"What do you mean?" I'd never been a very good liar. I didn't sound convincing even to myself.
"What do I mean?" He smiled. "We've been married almost six years, and that is by far the strongest you've ever come on to me. Including even before we were married!"
"So?"
"So? So I want to know what set it off. Don't get me wrong, I liked it. A lot. But I want to know what did it."
"Nothing." I relaxed and tried to act like I was blowing it off. "I was just horny."
He smiled. "You're a terrible liar you know."
"Adam, there was nothing, really." It wasn't intentional, but I pulled the pillow tighter into my chest and curled toward a fetal position.
Adam laughed. "Yeah, your body language says truth all over it. Give me that."
He yanked the pillow away from me, pushed me back over onto my back, and pushed on my knees to straighten my legs.
"Hey!" I chased after the pillow, but he was too fast and already had it out of my reach. I tried to sit up, but Adam pushed me back down.
"Shhh! Close your eyes." He held me in place, not letting me up.
"What? Why?"
"Lay back and close your eyes. Just do it."
And I did. I rested my head on the pillow and closed my eyes, lying stretched out, flat on my back now. Adam saw me naked all the time, but lying here like this with him looking made me feel odd and tingly.
"Today," he said, "you saw something or heard something or maybe even did something that really worked you up."
I opened my eyes and looked over at him, starting to get up again. "Adam, there really---"
"Lay down." He pushed me back down again. "Whatever it was, picture it."
"There wasn't anything, I'm telling you." Even as I spoke the words, an image of Megan began to form.
"Just picture it, remember it, look at it again, or hear it or do it in your head again, whatever it is."
"This is stupid." My protest was considerably weaker. I had a clear mental image of Megan now, her perfect body dancing around in that damned bikini. All the feelings I'd had in class started returning. For maybe thirty seconds Adam said or did nothing. As I tried to see behind that bikini in my mind, my body reacted in several subtle ways that I wasn't paying attention to, but Adam was. My breathing deepened, my legs parted slightly, I put my hands on my stomach near my waist. Then something touched my hand and made me jump. I opened my eyes and Adam had grabbed my right hand.
"Close your eyes. Go back there. Go."
I closed my eyes again. Adam lifted my hand, and then placed it right between my legs. The instant explosion of nerves throughout my body was intense. I almost came from that single touch. Using my own fingers he began stroking me, and then pulled his own hand away. I almost stopped, to embarrassed to continue, but Megan danced in front of me, and desire was stronger. I rubbed harder as the Megan in my mind began undressing, pulling down the bikini top to reveal perfect, perky breasts and tiny erect nipples. With her back to me, the bikini bottoms came down and her gorgeous little ass swayed to my mind's music. I had never masturbated in front of Adam before, but I was doing it now with complete abandon. As the Megan in my head began to turn around and finally reveal to me that perfect, naked form, I was close to my third climax of the night. A few more seconds were all I needed.
Adam grabbed my hand and pulled it away. I opened my eyes and they pleaded with his own to let go, but as much as I struggled, he was stronger.
"What are you looking at?" One corner of his mouth turned up in a slight, wry smile.
"Nothing. Let me go!"
"No way, not until you tell me." As if to make his point, he sat across my legs, stretched both of my hands out above my head over the arm of the couch, and leaned in close, looking straight in my eyes. The sly smile grew bigger. "Come on, give it up."
I twisted and turned, struggling for some freedom, but he had me pinned. "Come on Adam, let me go. There's nothing. I was just giving you a show."
He laughed at that. "Do people on the stand lie as badly as you do? You're not getting your hands back until you tell me. What did this to you?"
I gave up then, relaxing and letting out a long sigh. I could have made something up, but he was right, I was a bad liar, and what did it matter, really, if he knew? I made a show of wrenching my face into a look of pouty defiance, and then gave him the answer that, while true, would be the last thing he would imagine.
"A girl."
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Five weeks had passed since that night I first saw Megan, and telling Adam had made things worse. His disbelief passed faster than I would have thought, and then he began pushing me on the idea of pursuing her! A few nights after that first one he described what it would be like to have another girl go down on me, how another girl would be able to do things only another girl would know how. It had made me so wet that I came the instant his tongue touched me for a demonstration, but the whole episode only spun me deeper into a web of tangled emotions. At first his behavior shocked me, but a couple of male acquaintances in college had told me there isn't a man alive who's not turned on by the idea of two girls together, so it's possible Adam had his own motives. For a couple of weeks he bugged me about it almost continually. The feelings had me confused and conflicted, though, and I didn't want to discuss it with him any further. To get him to leave it alone, I managed, to my own amazement, to pull off a rather big lie. The small part of the lie was that I'd told him that Megan had left the class after two weeks, and that I knew nothing about her other than her name, so whatever it had been, it was over. The bigger part of the lie was that it wasn't over, that the feelings in me were complicated but strong, and I had to hide them from Adam all the while they were growing stronger. I found Megan creeping into my thoughts with increasing frequency. She'd become a mental tool for my imagination to explore how a relationship with a girl might feel, both physically and emotionally. Those musings had become quite powerful now, having developed into a full on fantasy that I both desired and feared. A fantasy with Megan at its center.
Tonight she was late to class and it distracted me. Most nights, just waiting for her to walk in the door was enough to create a warm tingling between my legs; not arousal, but something close to it. I found myself anticipating her presence every Thursday night, excited by the thought of her dancing around the floor in next to nothing. This was the first time she'd ever been late, however, and the first thought that screamed across my mind was a mixture of fear and relief. What if she weren't coming back? My stomach churned and twisted in knots until, about five minutes in the main workout, the door at the back of the room opened and in walked Megan, followed by a tall, attractive blond I'd never seen before. They were dressed in identical sweatsuits sporting a logo I couldn't quite read from across the room. At the same time, as if the motions had been practiced, Megan and the blond girl removed their sweatshirts over their heads, their movements more sensual than necessary, and they seemed to be staring right at me as they tossed the shirts to the floor. Underneath they were wearing the sexiest tight black sports bras I'd ever seen. Before I'd really finished looking them over, they took down their pants. This time there was no question they were casting intentional looks straight at me. If their sports bras were skimpy, the boyshorts they wore could be described as next to nonexistent. I watched them walk out onto the exercise floor, causing a few other women to stop and turn to look behind them. I saw several eyes rolling as they turned back around and returned to the routine.
For the next forty-five minutes, Megan and the blond put on a show. There's no other way to describe it. And it was a show that appeared to be for my benefit; I had the only clear view of the two of them. A lot of the motions in Zumba are already quite sensual; tonight Megan and her friend made them overtly sexual. They left no doubt that I was the target audience, and the idea that it was intentional for the purpose of getting my attention sent small shivers through my midsection. I enjoyed watching, but it didn't affect me much until we came to a point in the dance where the hands are clapped together in front of the body down low, kept together as the arms are raised above the head, and then the arms swung apart in big arcs as if the dancer is trying to swim upwards through the air. The blond girl, for the most part, started out doing the moves just like everyone else. Megan, however, instead of clapping her hands together, placed them between her legs, and during the upward motion, instead of just moving her hands up through the air, she caressed her body all the way up, across the muscles of her abdomen, up to her breasts which she would squeeze each time through, and finally up through hair. After the third or fourth pass, I could see her nipples began poking rock hard through the thin sport bra. The blond girl watched Megan for a moment, and then began an identical routine. What finally got me was that each time Megan performed the motion, she pulled her shorts tighter and tighter into herself, until the material was being pulled up taught between her labia, forming a crease that made it clear she had on no underwear. When she began dragging her fingers through that crease, I lost control. Watching them was making me wet, stirring in me a deep, almost primal sexual feeling that I didn't know I had. I wanted to join them, to stimulate my own body they way they were stimulating theirs. So strong was the feeling, I almost did. Horrified that I was on the verge of masturbating in front of a room full of other women, I collected my thoughts and focused on the routine, thankful that the exertion masked my arousal. I repositioned myself a bit, and for the remaining ten minutes of the class tried not to look in their direction. I looked anyway, unable to help myself, but though they both continued to keep their eyes on me, they had apparently decided to end the show.
After class they were the last to emerge from the locker room, and other than the three of us, the room was empty now. Showered and dressed again in their light sweatsuits, they approached me. Megan introduced the blond girl, Kim, a college friend she hadn't seen for a couple of years, and they invited me out for drinks. My heart raced. Given the performance they'd put on in class, drinks couldn't possibly be all they had in mind, and it caught me off guard, both thrilling me and scaring me all at once. I was sure I was blushing deep red, and I caught Megan and Kim exchanging sly glances. After some scattered thoughts that I couldn't quite collect, and coaxing from both Megan and Kim, I accepted. I really wanted a shower first, but they convinced me I was fine the way I was. I called Adam and told him I was going out for a while with a couple of the girls from class. Several of my friends were in my classes and after-class outings were not unusual, but had he known I was heading out for drinks with Megan and Megan's new friend, he would have been far more inquisitive. In my own car I followed Megan and Kim in Megan's beautiful Saturn Aura to the Chili's on Shoreline Drive. One hour and two daiquiris later, I'd learned a lot about them. They had both grown up in Connecticut, had met at UConn, and now they were both teachers. Megan was starting a new job in the fall at Prisk Elementary here in Long Beach and had moved here six weeks ago. Kim lived in Boston and was visiting for about a month. Our casual conversation continued until I was taking the final sip of my second daiquiri, and I was thinking that it was time to make an exit. Megan must have noticed me glancing at my watch.
"How did you like the show tonight?" Megan's question blew the rest of the night's conversation to pieces. I hadn't been sure what form it was going to take, but I'd known it was coming. My heart jumped at the question and I fumbled for words to voice an answer.
"Why don't you come back to Megan's place with us and we'll finish the show?" Kim asked the question in a soft disarming voice. I hadn't even managed a reply to Megan's question when Kim's new one sent my head spinning. Inside I was a mess. A mixture of excitement and apprehension had my stomach in knots.
The question hung in the air. I wanted to go with them, ideas about what might happen running through my imagination, but I felt unprepared, unsure. An uncomfortable silence screamed at me for an answer, pressuring me to speak even though I didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry, I can't," I said, surprising myself that the words escaped my lips. Disappointment registered on their faces, but having spoken the words, I stuck by them, and a few minutes later, after an awkward goodbye, I was in my car heading for home, my thoughts spinning in every direction. By the time I reached my driveway, I regretted my choice. I almost kept driving. I could turn around and go back. But, they were sure to be gone, and I didn't know where Megan lived. If I had, I would have driven straight there. I began considering ways I might find her address, but then I felt silly. I pulled the car into the drive, turned off the engine, and sat for several minutes, collecting myself, trying to put the events out of my mind.
Instead, for the next week, I could think of nothing else. I managed to keep it hidden from Adam---he didn't ask questions at least---but regret and anticipation tore at me the entire week. When Thursday night arrived, I bounced back and forth between being fearful that Megan and Kim wouldn't show, and fearful that they would.
They arrived on time, taking positions near the back of the class, but there was no show tonight. They spent a lot of time looking in my direction, dancing in sync with the class, but giving their routines none of the outright sexuality they'd added the week before. It turned out this was worse for me than if they'd performed it all for me again. Because they didn't, I wanted them to. I wanted to see them running their hands over their bodies, touching themselves, making their nipples hard, outlining their most sensitive parts with the fabric of their shorts. The same primal sexual feelings I'd experienced a week ago surged through me again. Two-thirds through the class I had to excuse myself; the class would keep going, they knew the routine. In the bathroom I needed several handfulls of tissue to dry the wetness that had formed between my legs. Before returning to the class, I sat for a moment, trying to focus my mind on anything but Megan and Kim. Fortunately the time remaining was short, and when class ended, Megan and Kim came straight to the front of the room.
"Hey Lisa, we're going back to my place to get cleaned up. You want to join us?" Megan asked.
The loaded question started me tingling all over again. I nodded. "Sure." As I spoke the word, an odd sensation came over me. At first I thought it might be guilt, but it was more like naughtiness. Like I was ten years old again and about to steal from the cookie jar---knowing it was wrong, but unable to deny the pleasure that waited. The other women leaving the class seemed to be taking no notice of the three of us.
"Are you okay leaving your car here?" Megan asked. "Parking at my place is kind of limited."
I nodded, and thirty minutes later, I knew why. Megan lived in beachfront townhouse on Ocean Boulevard. "This is amazing! How do you afford it?"
"On a teacher's salary, you mean?" Megan smiled. "Divorce was good to me." For a moment a huge grin filled her face.
Megan unlocked the door and Kim disappeared inside. I followed her up the steps, but hesitated before entering. Stepping inside was like some sort of final commitment, a point of no return. Megan stood just inside, waiting. I looked at her, and her beautiful gray-blue eyes stared back. She was gorgeous. Light brown hair fell across her shoulders down to the middle of her breasts. Smooth, soft skin covered high cheek bones that accented perfect lips. She raised her eyebrows and tossed her head toward the room behind her to motion me inside. I took a few steps, entering just far enough for Megan to close the door. I turned and watched as she bolted the lock. As the click echoed across my senses, Megan embraced me. She placed her hands behind my head and pulled my face close to hers. When her lips touched mine, I dropped my gym bag to the floor, returning the embrace, and for the first time in my life, all reservation fading away to nothing, I kissed---really kissed---a girl.
It was different than kissing Adam. Not better, not worse, just different. The lips were softer, and the kiss itself was gentler but more sensual. I ran my fingers through what turned out to be hair as soft as silk, and pulled her in tighter as I returned the kiss. Parted lips gave way to a full open mouths. Megan backed me up against the door, the gentleness of her becoming a deeper hunger growing in both of us. At some point she pulled back from the kiss, then ran her tongue lightly across my lips. My legs went weak at the sensation, and I chased her tongue with my mouth, kissing and sucking it as she teased me with it. I grabbed her head hard and pulled her mouth back to mine, our tongues now meeting in the kiss. Before I was ready to stop she pulled away again. I pulled her head back toward me, chasing her lips with my own, but she pushed my head to the side with one hand and began kissing my cheek and earlobes, and then down into the small of my neck. Chills spread across my entire body. As she focused her mouth on the sides of my neck, her hands began exploring the rest of me, caressing my stomach, then up between my breasts, then down my back. As her hands traveled downward, I anticipated the feeling of her fingers passing below my waist and caressing me through the fabric of the exercise tights, but when she reached the top of the tights, she stopped and reversed direction. On the way back up she ran her hands up my sides and across the outside of my breasts. When she reached my neck, she pulled me back into a kiss. It was my turn to explore. Between her head and waist I ran my hands over everything, through her sweatshirt finding her incredibly hard nipples and even the firm but feminine lines of her stomach muscles.
Then she stopped again---I'd lost all track of time---and took me by the hand, leading me to a large room on the other side of the house. It was a living room of sorts. A large, floor-to-ceiling sliding glass window opened onto a deck overlooking the beach. She pulled me onto a couch in front of the window, laid down next to me, and brought her lips back to mine. The sound of waves crashing against the beach floated through the open door, filling the room with its sensual music. I closed my eyes and pulled her close, losing myself in the touch of her lips and the roaming of her hands. I'm not certain how much time had passed when the sound of someone clearing their throat startled me, sending a quick shiver of surprise through my body. I'd forgotten all about Kim. Standing in a doorway that led down a hall was Kim, wet hair falling across her shoulders, her body wrapped in large yellow and white striped towel.
Megan kissed me, stood, and excused herself to take a shower. Kim walked over and sat next to me on the couch. One side of her towel fell away, exposing the left side of her slender body high enough to make out the feminine curves of a smooth waistline. She didn't have the carved abdominals I'd felt through Megan's sweatshirt, but what I could see of her stomach was flat and fit. The tip of a tattoo, some form of vine or ivy, trailed away from the top of her leg down toward the inside of her left thigh.
"Would you like to see more?" Kim asked.
I'd been staring. I looked up, blushing deep red. I opened my mouth to speak, but Kim leaned in and placed a short, soft kiss on my parted lips, then pulled back, looking into my eyes and waiting for my response. The scent of a flowery shampoo lingered in the air, combining with the crashing ocean and the teasing beauty of her partially exposed body into an intoxicating assault on my senses. I leaned into her and embraced her neck. The cool strands of her damp hair brushed across my skin, sending erotic chills up my arms and down my back. Our lips touched in a long, soft kiss. Just as kissing Megan was different from kissing Adam, kissing Kim was different from kissing Megan. Kim's kiss was less aggressive and more sensual. Something hinted of strawberries, and I savored the taste of her lips. As we kissed, her hands began to explore my body, caressing first my back and arms with slow soft strokes, then moving to my sides and stomach. When she finally touched my breasts, my nipples were rock hard, and the light brushing of her hands across the tight fabric of my workout top sent me tingling from the inside out. I began roaming my hands around her body as well, running my fingers through her damp hair, and caressing the exposed skin of her shoulders, upper back, and chest. Suddenly she pinched and held both my nipples, not hard, but enough to evoke an involuntary moan. She continued to hold them, applying more pressure. The sensation brought that primal sexual urge inside me to the surface. I grabbed her head and kissed her hard, then began sliding my hands between the folds of the towel. When my hand touched something hard and cold on her stomach, I pulled back, surprised.
Kim smiled, then stood, pulling the towel open to reveal a belly button piercing, a small metal bar with diamonds on both ends. It wasn't her belly button that drew my attention, though. She wasn't merely shaved, she was baby smooth, and there was only the faintest hint of tanlines. The tattoo inside her left thigh was a vine with four little flowers blooming from it, maybe four to five inches long overall. With me watching, she pulled the towel completely off and dropped it to the floor. I throbbed deep inside. I never would have believed that I could approach an orgasm at the mere sight of a nude body, especially a woman's, but if I touched myself right then, I was certain I would explode. The emotions I was experiencing were the same as those the night I'd first seen Megan and had gone home and fucked Adam like I never had before; I was swept up in a deep, pure lust.
"Can I see you?" As she asked the question, she began caressing her own stomach and breasts with the same light, gentle motions she'd been exploring me with just moments before.
My heart pounded. Desire and fear were at odds within me. Desire had long since won the fight, but an excited fear of the unknown and doubts about whether I should be here were still lingering in the background, sending my pulse racing and tying my stomach in one huge knot. I took a long, slow breath, and then in a single motion, pulled my top off over my head. The knot in my stomach tightened. My nipples stood out more than I knew they could, so hard they hurt. Kim smiled, her eyes roaming my body. She nodded at my tights. I took another deep breath and pulled them down. But I was nervous and the tights were awkward to remove, and I fell backward onto the couch struggling to remove them.
Kim laughed, then knelt on the floor and helped me finish the task, hooking her fingers inside my underwear and tights at the same time, and removing them both in one smooth motion. When she was done, she was kneeling in front of me, positioned between my legs as I sat on the edge of the couch. She pulled me close and kissed me, but this time the kissing didn't linger long on my lips. She kissed her way down my neck, sending shivers through my body, and then my chest. She continued down between my breasts and down my abdomen. I grew wetter in anticipation, but she stopped at my belly button, then ran her tongue from my belly button all the way up under my chin. Another unexpected moan escaped my lips. Kim looked me in the eyes, then kissed me full on the mouth, hard this time. She pinched my nipples again, and then gave my lower lip a soft, playful bite before placing a trail of kisses down my neck and chest. This time she didn't ignore my breasts. She kissed and licked them all over, but for a while she ignored my nipples that were standing erect and screaming for attention. When her tongue finally touched one, I let out a small scream and grabbed her head, pushing it hard into my breast. She bit my nipple then. Quick but hard, and the surprise and shock of the sensation made me jump. The she spent the next thirty seconds licking and kissing it as if to say she was sorry. She moved to other breast, and it received the same treatment. A quick, hard bite, followed by soft, warm attention from her tongue. I was in an ecstasy beyond imagining, and whether from the physical sensations, the emotional ones, or both, I can't say, but I was shocked to feel a tear streak from the corner of one eye and then the other. Kim noticed, smiled, and kissed them away.
She pushed me all the way back on the couch then, pushed my legs apart with her hands, and then while caressing my nipples lightly with her palms, made a trail of soft wet kisses from just above my breasts straight down the front of my body. I'd never been so close to an orgasm without having even been touched yet. The line of kisses stopped just as I thought the next one would land directly on my clit. It was swollen and ready and my lips were parted and wet. The whole area ached and throbbed in a pre-orgasmic state; a single touch would probably send me over the edge. But she teased me. With her fingers and lips and tongue she caressed and licked everywhere to within a millimeter of the truly sensitive parts. The sensations of her fingers and tongue on my smooth, shaved skin was almost enough. At one point, she pressed down hard at the base of my pubic bone, and I honestly thought I would come. I didn't, but more uncontrolled tears flowed down my cheeks as I became lost in the physical and emotional pleasure.
And then she did it. She ran her tongue straight up the middle of me, a deep stroke that touched everything that had been aching for attention, stopping on my clit, and staying there. It took only seconds. A powerful orgasm pulsed through me, waves of pleasure that started at the end of Kim's tongue and exploded outward through my every extremity. Somehow, Kim kept it going a long, long time. Her tongue knew just the right spots at just the right time. When I finally opened my eyes, Megan was standing naked in the doorway that led down the hall, caressing her breasts with one hand and masturbating gently with the other. I felt suddenly embarrassed and awkward.
I don't know if my posture changed, but Megan walked over, embraced me, and gave me a long, tender kiss, then told me to turn over. I must have looked confused. "What?" was all I could manage.
"Turn over." She patted the top edge of the couch. "Rest your head and arms here, and put your knees up on the couch."
Despite the intense orgasm I'd just experienced, the knot in my stomach began to work it's way back. Part excitement, part apprehension, just as before, but more apprehension this time. Why that was I didn't really know, but when I didn't move, Kim grabbed my hand and pulled me up from where I'd been leaning against the couch. "Come on, we'll make it worth your while, promise." She pulled harder on my hand.
So, without thinking about it any further, I did it. It was an impulse behavior. I think that somewhere deep inside, something was telling me that maybe I shouldn't be here, but right now I didn't want to hear it. Kim helped me up, and I turned and faced the couch, then kneeled on it, knees together.
"Oh cute butterfly." Kim had noticed my tattoo.
"I've always wondered what the rest of that thing looked like," added Megan.
I leaned forward, resting my head and arms on the back of the couch and closing my eyes, finding the position more comfortable than I'd anticipated. Even with my legs still tight together, though, I also felt vulnerable and exposed.
A hand stroked the back of my leg, upward from just above the knee, then up and across my exposed ass. The hand was Megan's. Kim's hands were warm now and she had fairly long fingernails. This hand was cool to the touch and had short smooth nails. Over the next few minutes her hands warmed as she caressed and massaged my legs and ass. I started to relax, and then a sudden smack across my rear jolted me.
"Ow!" The exclamation was more from surprise than anything else. The blow had been hard but not overly painful.
My ass was spanked again on the other side, just as hard. Then again. And again. Megan was giving me a real spanking! The realization of it made me immediately wet again, and without realizing it, I parted my legs a bit. The blows came faster, some of them very hard now, and I could feel my bottom warming up. As it progressed, though, pain disappeared and pleasure took its place. Each blow sent erotic sensations throughout my body, and the spanking became entirely sexual.
I felt the couch move a bit on my right, and I opened my eyes for a moment. Kim had taken a sitting position next to me. She smiled, and I closed my eyes again, lost in the sensuality of the spanking. At some point, I wasn't sure when, I'd moved my legs further apart, and I was entirely open and exposed now. Raw sexual feelings were stirring again.
When fingers suddenly entered me, forceful yet pleasant, I jumped and then moaned. The intensity of the spanking increased again. I leaned further forward on the couch and spread my legs wide now, pushing my ass upward. I didn't know which one of them was fucking me with her fingers, and I didn't care. I guessed it was Kim since Megan was busy spanking me, but whoever it was, the feelings were so erotic it went beyond mere physical pleasure. At times I almost felt like I needed to pee, and when that sensation overwhelmed me and I thought I actually would, it changed to a warm glowing sensation that wasn't an orgasm, but gave tremendous pleasure both physically and emotionally.
The spanking suddenly stopped, but the finger fucking didn't, and I realized I was moaning, almost crying. Embarrassed, I tried to stop.
"It's okay. Let it out. Let it go." Megan spoke the words from somewhere behind me.
For another moment I held it in, then lost all control when another new sensation assaulted me. My ass was spread wide, and something warm and slippery, a lubricated finger, began massaging its opening. The sensations were exquisite, sending new waves of pleasure through me. Then the fucking I was getting grew more intense, adding fingers and spending more time on my clit now. My second orgasm in ten minutes was building fast. And then the finger massaging my ass began pushing its way past the opening. I froze, and clenched involuntarily. For a moment, the spell was broken, but Megan and Kim knew what they were doing, and I was soon lost again under their skilled hands. Until the finger teasing my ass again began pushing its way in.
"No." I squeaked out the word as I froze again.
There was a pause, then. It lasted maybe two seconds, but seemed like two hours. "Okay. I'm sorry," said Megan from behind me.
But this time, the spell did break. A weird feeling formed in the pit of my stomach, and all of a sudden everything felt disconnected and wrong. I felt like the victim of a terrible practical joke, that a million eyes were watching and laughing at me, alone and exposed. I raised myself to a kneeling position, and reached down and stopped Kim's hand. With her other hand she stroked my hair, and then leaned in and kissed my cheek, whispering to me that it was okay, to relax and let myself go. She ran her hand back up the inside of my now closed legs, but I stopped her again.
"I'm sorry," I said. I stood and grabbed my clothes, and then almost ran from the room through the doorway that led to a bathroom somewhere. I found it and closed the door. My body was shaking, so I sat for a few minutes and calmed down. My mind spun everywhere, my thoughts a jumbled mess, and I decided I needed to just leave and do some thinking.
When I came out, Megan and Kim had put on shorts and t-shirts. They were both quiet as I walked through the room to the front of the house. Megan followed me. "Please stay."
Part of me wanted to, but part of me wasn't ready for this. Right now what I really wanted was Adam, to just curl up in his arms and go to sleep. "I really need to go, I'm sorry."
She offered to drive me home, but I wanted to take the bus. I wanted the time to think, to gather my thoughts.
An hour later, after two short walks and a bus ride, my thoughts were anything but gathered. It was after 10:30 and Adam was already in bed, but I couldn't have talked to him about any of it anyway, not yet. I poured a glass of wine, grabbed my laptop, turned off all the lights, and made myself comfortable on the living room couch. Maybe I could distract myself and just let it all go for a while. I opened the laptop, sipping the wine while I waited for it to boot. The wine tasted and felt wonderful; by the time my email was finally open I'd finished the entire glass, and I felt calmer, soothed by its warming glow.
I had only two new messages, and one of them was from Megan. She must have copied my email address off the bulletin board at the gym. I wanted to ignore it, to read it later when it might not bother me as much, but curiosity overcame me and I opened it. The message was short and not what I expected. "Lisa, we know you want this. The confusion will pass. Here's a short video that we think can help. Just be careful with it. We wouldn't want the wrong people to see it. Love, Megan and Kim." Just below the text was a link, and that was the entire message.
I rolled my eyes, imagining possible scenarios for the video they thought could "help" me, all of them seeming ridiculous. The link indicated it was sixty-three seconds. I almost deleted the email without clicking the link, but curiosity compelled me to click it. It should be amusing at least, and a one-minute video wasn't going to change anything anyway.
It turned out I was wrong. For the next sixty-three seconds I didn't breathe.
The video was six ten-second scenes. As each one appeared my jaw dropped further and my mind scrambled for explanations. In the first scene I stood in the entryway of Megan's house, backed against the door, the two of us kissing and groping. In the second one, Megan and I were making out on her couch. In the third one I was taking off my clothes while an already naked Kim watched. In the fourth one I was lying back on the couch, moaning in pleasure with Kim's blond head between my legs. In the fifth one I was kneeling on the couch, Kim watching and Megan spanking me; a few seconds into it, I watched myself spread my knees wide apart push my ass up into the air. The camera had excellent resolution; it exposed me with shocking clarity. In the final segment Kim was sitting on the couch next to me, fucking me with her hand, while Megan fingered the opening of my ass.
When it stopped, I was in shock. I played it again, and then one final time. It seemed surreal, and only after playing it the third time did I begin to accept what I was seeing.
And then I read the text of the message again. This time, the final sentence filled me with horror.
"Oh my god."
|
This story is a report message of an Internet Chat Discussion with an interested online friend, in january 2015.
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Hello!
Yesterday, I invite one guy I've already fucked and one guy with girlfriend (without her). They are best friends, so always together.
I tell them to come for 19h30.
On 18h30, I prepare myself : boost heaters to obtain +/- 25° in my flat. ponytail, put on my very tight pink swimsuit (long time I've not wear it), put in my geisha balls, and run for a Zumba session with TV and sound loud. I go for 45 minutes of intense sport.
Geisha balls make their job, and I was on fire.
They are on time. I pause music, and go open the door. Surprising, I tel them they are in advance, the meeting was fixed on 20h15.
So I tell them to go in, and wait I finish my session. They come, take a bear on fridge and sat on sofa. I continue my sport session in front of them. They are very interesting by the show. My swimsuit are almost wet (mostly on crotch...) and partially see trough (it's a single piece of fabric).
When I finish, I tell them I'm very hot and as they are here, they could give me a massage.
"Yes, of course" is the only response.
I put a big towel on sofa, lying on my front, and give them a massage oil.
They made a long massage on my back.
Then I turn, for they can be my face.
They rub all my body.
The guy with girlfriend leave when the other rub my pussy trough the swimsuit and I start to moan...
After a long breast and pussy massage, I tell him I want he fuck me now.
He undresses, and I tell him to wait until I liberate the place. I push the swimsuit crotch to show him my pussy, and start to search the string. I take out the balls slowly (his cock growing hard). The balls are very wet, and I suck them clean... He was very exited by this.
I keep my swimsuit on, and he fuck me on various positions. He cum on my belly.
After, I go to shower and he left.
I've pass a good night!!!
Very interesting!
Aurore
xxx
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The next message some days after. After the first session, I've invite some guys to see me for a new Zumba session and make me a massage.
------------
Hello!
So, Tuesday, 19h, guys come in (one already fucked, and another I've already see : very nice guy ).
I'm not ready for my session. Take them beer, and massage book (they are here for that lol! ).
I go to my room, don't close the door, and change to my black swimsuit (with full back coverage : speedo hydrasuit).
They can't see me when I change. I put baskets on, remake ponytail, and go with them. They help me to close the back zip of the swimsuit.
I run my session. Start with warmup stretching, then go on music.
After two music, I tell them I need cheer. They cry "allez", "plus fort", "plus vite", "remue ton petit cul", "fait bouger tes seins"...
Two more musics, and I tell them I need more cheer.
So I go to my room, put my vibrator egg, and take them the remote. I explain they can stimulate me when they want. We test it, and it make a good effect.
So return to music. They use the remote regularly, and I make mistakes in my routines.
I make a pause to drink water. I tell them they make me good effect, my pussy was very wet.
The new guy suggest me to put out the egg, and place it right on my clit, maintain in place by the swimsuit.
So I got it (just turn me back), and I place it just on my clit. We test the remote and it make a lot of effect (more than in pussy) (the session can be interesting).
Before I return on music, he tell me they count the number of mistakes, and I have forfeits on how much mistakes.
Go on. They play with the remote and I make lots of mistakes(18). I'm very excited.
It remains 4 musics, so we define the rules.
10 mistakes : they see me masturbating
20 mistakes : I must suck them
30 mistakes : they can fuck me
40 mistakes : must swallow
50 mistakes : they can tie me
Go for 4 last musics.
They play non stop with remote, and I make lots of mistakes. I'm on edge many times.
They have stop count after 50... and reduce the egg action for finish.
I'm very sweating, all my body wet.
I threw myself on the sofa. I'm so excited, they want me to make my first forfeit, and masturbate now to cum. So I rub my pussy and my clit trough the swimsuit, and I cum very fast and very hard.
I tell them it's time to massage.
They make a long massage (with oil), and lot of rubbing ass, breasts, pussy... remaining me excited.
Now they want their due.
So I take them my leather cuffs. Start with my hand on my back. suck one, and fuck the other. They swap several times.
My arms on back are not really fun. We change position. They cuffs mys hands under my knees, so I've knees on my breasts.
I move on my knee so they can fuck me in "levrette" (don't know in English).
After I roll on my back and they continue to fuck, suck, swap.
One cum in my mouth, and I swallow all!
The other cum on my swimsuit. So they get a spoon to pick up all load, and put it in my mouth. I swallow it.
I re-masturbate to make me cum another one.
They make a joke on telling they can leave me cuffed. (not very fair).
So They uncuff me and go out.
Another nice sport session. I'm very tired about all this. But very happy.
I think I must make another session soon...
Aurore
xxx
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There I was, sweaty, breathing hard, and frustrated. Sexually frustrated. And Lisa was teaching our Zumba class again. Zumba is a cardio class that is offered at my local gym and some of the women in the class wear some pretty revealing clothes, but that didn't matter when Lisa taught. All eyes were always on her beautiful body going through the motions and getting sweaty.
Lisa is this gorgeous 5'3" blonde with stunning 34B breasts that I always seem to be staring at whenever she looks my way. She is a fitness instructor so she has a really fit body with an ass to die for. It is the perfect blend between muscle and softness. She always wears lycra dance pants and tight shirts. She also acts completely oblivious to any of the women in our class hitting on her. She could make any straight woman question themselves.
"This isn't fair. There is this fucking gorgeous woman working hard and sweating in front of me and I can't just take her and fuck her." I complained, in between deep breaths, to my best friend, Shelly.
"Well, then fuck her already. God, you really need to get laid, you are getting whiney."
"She's probably taken. She has to be taken, look at her. Besides, she's most likely straight." I retorted.
My name is Colette and I am an 18 year old college student. I have piercing green eyes, dark brown, almost black, curly hair, and large 38D breasts with sizeable pink nipples that beg to be nibbled on. I have a few extra pounds that hang well and I am very proud of. Although I stand at only 5'3.5", I tend to draw a lot of attention to myself with my loud mouth and comedic personality. Simply put, I don't get embarrassed very easily.
But there I was, sweating and muttering under my breath about a beautiful woman I would probably never get the chance to fuck. Lisa noticed my mouth moving and asked what I was talking about. She caught me off guard and when the whole class turned and looked at me, I turned bright red and responded with a quick "uhm... Nothing!" The class giggled at my expense and Lisa flashed me a smile. God, she had amazing teeth...
Somehow I fought my way through the rest of the class and we all headed off to the locker room to shower and change. When I walked passed Lisa she smiled that fantastic smile again and I blushed and melted a little. Shelly snorted and whispered to me that I needed to just fuck her and get it over with. I completely agreed.
Shelly and I were in the process of changing and ready to shower when Lisa walked by and when to a locker a few down from mine. I looked at Shelly very confused because everyone knows the trainers have their own locker room.
"Their locker room is getting renovated so they have to share with us for a few months." She answered and gave me a look that said 'It is now or never...' It was this moment that I decided I had waited around for too long and needed to make my move before any other women did. I told Shelly to not wait up for me and that I would see her later. I walked over to where Lisa was changing.
"Uhm, hi. Sorry about interrupting your class today. I really wasn't talking to anyone but myself. I have a really bad tendency to talk to myself while I'm doing work, especially if there is a really beautiful woman in the room." I started out.
Lisa just laughed "Don't worry about it, I do the same thing."
"Really?" I replied as I raised an eyebrow. "Well, could you show me that one move again. You know the one that makes your fantastic ass look even more magnificent." Lisa blushed. "oh god, I'm sorry. I didn't think when I was talking. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable."
"It's okay." She responded. "I need to get into the shower." By this time most everyone had finished their shower and when I sauntered into the community shower area, it was only Lisa and I in the warm mist.
I started some idle small talk, just to get things rolling. After a few moments of talking about the upcoming weather and what we would be doing in class next week, I came close to her and dropped my voice.
"You know, I meant what I said about you having a fantastic ass. You are a really beautiful woman." I whispered as I slowly crept closer to her. She could only reply with an "Oh, uhm... Well..." I looked her in the eyes as I reached out, softly grabbed her, and pulled her into a deep kiss.
After I drew away I said "You are so beautiful. I've wanted you for a long time." I figured she would stop me if she wanted to, so I pulled her into one of the private showers and shut the curtain. I turned around and grinned at her. She giggled and I took that as her acceptance and we started kissing again. It was fast and passionate and I couldn't wait to get my hands on her beautiful breasts. I softly pulled at her nipples and she moaned into my mouth.
I broke our kiss so I could lick, nip, and bite my way down to her large, dark pink nipples. I sucked one of them into my mouth and felt her slightly shudder and hold my head to her breast. Every time I nipped at her nipple she would moan and hold me closer. I switched nipples and gave the other one the same treatment while pulling and twisting the first one.
After she had enough of my mouth on her nipples she pulled my head back up and started kissing me again. I broke from her kiss to whisper in her ear about how I was going to lick her clit until she came. She smiled and pushed me towards her pussy. I kissed my way down her body until I reached her sweet smelling, hairless cunt.
I made sure she was leaning against the wall of the shower and I opened her beautiful legs and pulled one over my shoulder. Her bare slit was staring at me and looking up at her face, I slowly started licking around her lips. She was sopping wet and ready. I licked circles around her clit, making her squirm and when I finally got there, she was breathing very fast and moaning. I began flicking my tongue over and over her clit and when I pulled it into my mouth and began sucking on it, she went ballistic, moaning, writhing, and holding my head to her pussy. I shoved my pink tongue in her tight hole and she came all over my face. I had to hold her against the wall, or she would've fallen over.
I held her and stroked her hair until her orgasm subsided. After she could stand on her own, I hugged her, thanked her, took my shower, and walked out of the gym.
|
Zuri knew that teasing Kassandra was a dangerous game, but she couldn't help herself. She was, technically, still a priestess of Shallya, albeit one who spent most of her time with bandits and thieves. Half the wanted posters in Aversol had the face of Kassandra Westerlark upon them. Distracting a notorious outlaw with barely-disguised flirtation? Why, for one such as Zuri who served the goddess of healing and mercy, that might actually be a holy act.
(The only reason why she remained an actual priestess, Zuri knew, was that the others in the church hierarchy were too merciful and forgiving to outright disown her. That, and they were probably scared shitless of Kassandra.)
So she sashayed a little more than usual, let her robes fall open just slightly more than proper, and was delighted when, late that evening, Kassandra simply swept her up, threw her over her shoulder, and carried her back to her tent.
"You," the bandit chieftain growled, "are utterly impossible." She tossed the squealing priestess gently down onto the blankets.
"Wah!" Zuri flopped around, affecting as innocent a look as possible. "What are we going to do on the bed?"
With a feral grin, Kassandra gently pushed on Zuri's shoulders until the priestess was lying flat on her back. "I think," she purred, "that we're going to remind you about the importance of <i>discipline</i>."
Zuri squirmed around as much as she was able. "Ooh, I'm so scared," she said, not bothering to hide the way that her hips were grinding up against her superior. "Now what? And," she said, "don't even think about fucking around all night, okay, Leah is still recovering from that time she tried showing off during a raid and I need to check on her first thing in the morning."
Kassandra rolled her eyes. "I know, I know. Those draenei farmers are surprisingly tough."
"Tell me about it." Zuri sighed. "It's always me who has to pick up the pieces afterwards when something goes wrong." Thinking about it, her smile slowly returned. "At least we got decent loot off 'em, right?"
"Yeah." The local farmers didn't usually have much gold, but the successful ones tended to be worth the effort. And you never knew when you might get lucky.
"Hey," Zuri said, squirming around a bit until she could reach up and poke Kassandra on the chest, "you're going to be careful when you're out there doing the ol' hit and run, yeah? I worry myself when you get delayed. Just," poke poke poke, "make sure you always come back to me."
Kassandra did not do a very good job at dodging. "Alright, that's it." Zuri was fairly agile, but trapped as she was it was short work for her boss to seize her wrists and hold her still.
"Took you long enough!" Zuri felt that being subtle about her teasing at this point would've been pointless.
"Mhm, fuck me for taking it slow." Sometimes it slipped past Zuri just how strong Kassandra was. It was a bit of a reminder when the outlaw chieftain shifted around so that she had both of Zuri's wrists grasped in one hand. With the other, she groped around inside a nearby box.
"There we are." Withdrawing her hand triumphantly, Kassandra drew out several silk scarves.
Zuri lay back and relaxed as she let herself be bound. There was a reason why Kassandra, several weeks ago, had given orders to find a real bed for the encampment. Apart from being nice to sleep on, the bedposts made things so much more convenient for little games like these.
"Be sure to get it tight," Zuri reminded Kassandra. Kassandra ignored her. They used silk for a reason: it was less prone to chafing, true, but also while the marks of hard use would be readily apparent on others of fair complexion, any injury would be much more difficult to notice on Zuri's skin. Kassandra was constantly worried about accidentally hurting her, especially with how enthusiastic Zuri got in the heat of the moment, and was always very careful with the restraints.
Personally, Zuri thought it was cute.
"Aaaand done," Kassandra said, sitting back. "Everything feel alright?"
Zuri gave a couple of exploratory tugs on the scarves which kept her quite firmly secured to the bed. "Yep. Can't hardly move an inch." She loved being tied spread-eagle. For one thing, it gave her something to hold onto.
"Good." Kassandra didn't bother with binding her feet, since she was straddling her waist anyways. "Now," she said, "remember what I said about learning discipline?
Those fingers were caressing her face, drifting across Zuri's neck and along her arms. She let out a nervous giggle. "Oh nooo."
"Oh yes." Zuri clamped her lips shut as Kassandra idly began running her fingers up to Zuri's wrists before they began their circuit back down. "It's been awhile since we've done this."
She wasn't going to react, she wasn't going to say anything, she was going to resist for as long as possible. As always. But this got harder and harder to remember as Kassandra's fingers swirled closer and closer to their mark.
When Kassandra quirked her fingertips into the hollows of her underarms, Zuri fell apart completely.
Zuri knew that most people who were deathly ticklish would shriek with forced mirth and quickly descend into the most pitiful begging. That was the case with, for example, the caravan leader who had pretended that her entire cargo was rough linen from the hinterland. Kassandra spent several hours happily punishing the unfortunate orc girl once they'd discovered the gems hidden in a secret compartment. Shortly afterwards, they'd sold the former caravan leader to a mistress who had seemed greatly interested in their story, greatly supplementing their profit from that particular raid.
But Kassandra, from many a long night's experimentation, had discovered that Zuri was different. After the first few moments, any sustained tickle torture would quickly send her into silent laughter. It was, they'd figured, a side effect of just how sensitive she was, that only a few touches could drive her beyond being able to speak.
"Not laughing? What's the matter, not ticklish anymore?" Kassandra taunted her. It was like a ritualized part of their game. So was the next bit, where Zuri, shoulders shaking but unable to make much of a sound, made a rude gesture with one of her hands.
"Bad girl." The admonition sent tingles down Zuri's spine. "You know what comes next."
Most priestesses of Shallya wore robes that were at least theoretically modest. Zuri was no different, although her attire was a little bit nonstandard in its design. Short-sleeved, which helped when Kassandra was in a playful mood, and loose enough so that undoing the ties at the front was simple. Simple enough for Kassandra to manage it with her teeth while those fingers of hers kept Zuri in a state of tortured bliss.
Zuri hoped, feeling the warmth of Kassandra's breath across her chest, that those lips would be put to good use. They were, at first. But even as Kassandra teased her breasts, mouthing the pebble-hard nipples in the way Zuri liked, those fingers didn't let up in their mission. And then Kassandra's mouth began to wander as she began placing kisses all around Zuri's ribs, places where Kassandra <i>knew</i> she was sensitive. It was too much.
"Mercy," Zuri managed to gasp through her silent paroxysms of hysteria, "mercymercymercy!"
Kassandra let up immediately, letting the bound woman take in shuddering gasps of air. Zuri gave her a sort of wry look. "Could've...gone...longer..."
"You need to breathe, dummy." Reaching out, Kassandra gave one of Zuri's nipples a pinch just to hear her squeak. She returned Zuri's mock-glare with fondness.
"Anyways," Kassandra said, "I had another thing I'd like to show you. You interested?"
"Oh, yes Mistress," Zuri purred. She wasn't wearing a collar, probably never would, but she deliberately played up her submission because it made Kassandra blush.
"Good girl." As Kassandra patted her cheek, Zuri remembered that the game worked both ways. And then Kassandra was reaching for another box, pulling out a device unlike any she'd seen.
"Bought this off a goblin artificer," she said, "last time I was in town. It's powered by some kind of crystal, they said. Don't remember."
"What's it do?"
Kassandra flipped a switch. The rounded head of the device began to audibly vibrate.
"Oh." Zuri's eyes widened. "Ohhhh."
Kassandra grinned, bringing the device down to Zuri. "Keep those legs apart," she commanded, "or I'll have to tie them up, too."
Zuri complied. The vibrator lowered closer...closer...
"Eeek!"
Kassandra quickly pulled back. "What? What's wrong?" She noticed Zuri's blush. "Oh my gods, don't tell me -"
"I can't help it!" Zuri's legs were pressed close together. "You've been working me over, now I'm on edge, and everything reminds me of...of that!"
Kassandra was already taking her own clothes off. "Alright, now I've got to try this." She shook a finger at Zuri. "But don't think I'll be going easy on you in the future, tickle-slut. You're cute when you lose your mind."
Zuri stuck her tongue out.
"Legs apart." Kassandra's order was obeyed with a smile. "Now," she said, straddling Zuri crossways, "let's see if we can't find the right position for this. I think this ought to work." She glanced down at her partner. "Ready?" A thumbs-up in response. Kassandra toggled the switch to start up the vibrations again as she lowered herself down onto Zuri.
Now this, Zuri thought, this was amazing. She couldn't squirm free with Kassandra pressing the device onto her, her partner starting to gasp and moan as the deceptively straightforward stimulus worked its magic on her too. It was also nice to have a front-row seat to the show, watching as Kassandra's muscled form trembled with the sensation. Zuri might've even heard a suppressed moan.
"Easy now," Zuri breathed.
Kassandra was keeping a straight face, although her smile occasionally twitched. "What's the matter, Zuri? C-can't take it?" Reaching down, she turned a knob that changed the pattern of vibrations from a steady drone to an irregular pulsing cycle.
"Oh fuck, oh my gods," Zuri stammered. Her hips bucked into the air, trying to free herself, but Kassandra kept the vibrator pressed between them by sheer force of will. And then the teasing pulse suddenly leapt in magnitude, taking both of them completely by surprise. "FUCK-!"
The world went white for Zuri. It seemed like an eternity later, or maybe only a few seconds, that Kassandra's arms gave out and she came crashing down on top of her, a strangled cry on her lips. That was the best part, Kassandra's body pressed against hers, the sound of her voice, the hum of the vibrator as it continued to tease the both of them...
It might have been another eternity before Kassandra was able to stop shaking, before she reached down to return the vibrator to an inactive state. Zuri was grateful for that. She couldn't take too much overstimulation, unlike some people.
"Uh," she tugged on the silk scarves which still held her arms. "Hey, Kass, could you -?"
"Shit, sorry." Kassandra undid the bindings, fumbling only slightly. Her arms free, Zuri curled up next to her partner.
"Could've gone another round," she murmured.
Kassandra snorted. "You were the one who said she had to be up early tomorrow," she said, pulling Zuri closer. "Because of Leah and all that. Honestly I ought to get caught up on planning stuff, too. Don't worry," she said, planting a kiss on her forehead. "We'll go longer next time."
"Mm." Zuri smiled, drowsiness slowing her words. "That sounds nice."
|
<em>*This is a continuation of the story of Zuzana and Michael, and I recommend reading the first 3 parts before diving in here. It's kinky stuff. Everyone is 18+. Comments, encouragement and suggestions are appreciated, hope you enjoy!*</em>
--
My eyes are fixed ahead, my mouth pressed closed, my jaw tensed. Another day, another insane sexual experience. This time what had started as a relationship building trip to the gym, ended with my girlfriend riding my trainer's cock right in front of me. As exciting as it was at the time, in the aftermath my mind raced, trying to process fully what had happened and what it meant. I looked over at my beautiful Czech girlfriend, who was staring blankly out the passenger side window. Her hair hung loosely down her back, and I realized that I could see dried cum under her ear. I had no idea who it belonged to.
"Jesus," I said to myself, and looked back at the road. Weeks ago, we had been a pretty normal couple with a great, but relatively vanilla sex life. Now what were we? Who was I? Who was she?
I though back to the moment when his dick split her lips open as she sat on him, and wondered how she could do that to me less than an hour after we had agreed not to fuck anyone else. Days after our last group experience with unclear boundaries, all of which were pushed. And pushed in such a way that I was on the losing end of things. At the same time, I couldn't deny what a turn on it was. Thinking about it now, how she looked as she was taking some guy's dick, I could once again feel blood start to flow between my legs.
"JESUS," I inadvertently repeated, more loudly this time. Zuzana turned to look at me, and I to her, her face unreadable. I opened my mouth to speak, but realized I didn't know what to say, so closed it and turned back to look at the road.
I hear her shift, and then feel her soft hand gently cover mine on the stick shift. I look at her again, and I can see the emotion in her eyes. Tears form and she says in a rush, "Oh cookie, I am so so sorry for what happened. I don't know what I was thinking, I wasn't thinking, I was just doing. And I thought we are having fun, and I think you also were liking it. And I know we said no sex, but then it all just seemed to happen, and it was so fun. And I should not have let him have sex with me but.."
"You didn't just let him, Zuzana. You fucked him." I interrupted. My voice heated. I floored the peddle in a blind rage, feeling satisfaction as she gasped and clutched the seat cushion, the RPMs near the red zone. Growling, I hit the brake, watching Zuzana lurch forward against her seat belt in my peripheral vision, and pulling the car to the side of the road, tires screeching.
My knuckles white on the steering wheel, I whipped my head towards her and spat, "You fucked him! How could you do it? We literally just agreed that it wasn't going to happen, you know I'm still fucked up from the last time, and now this? What the fuck!" Each phrase louder than the previous, I ended in a throaty yell.
Zuzana had sat back as I vented, and all I saw was pity in her eyes. I looked at my hands, which had risen up like a preacher at sermon as I ranted, palms open, and clenched them into fists, baring my teeth at her. I watched the pity turn to fear. I knew I would never hit her, but at that moment, I took some satisfaction in seeing that she thought I might.
She opened her mouth, but I cut her off, "I absolutely don't want to hear whatever you're about to say. I really don't. Keep your slut mouth closed for once." I immediately regretted saying it, and I found myself afraid that she was going to launch herself at me. Her eyes shot daggers at me, her mouth clenched, but she managed to control herself, and eventually broke our gaze, slumped dejectedly back into her seat. She sighed deeply and turning again to look out the window, her eyes glistening.
I looked at the dried semen on her neck again, gave my bulge a little rub, checked the mirrors, and then started home again. After five minutes of silence, I reached forward and turned on the radio, wanting to hear something other than my thoughts.
I glanced over at Zuz, and saw that she had her feet up on the seat now, as she leaned against the window. Her arms were between her legs, and I could see her hands grasped together and pressed against her crotch. I looked up and saw her eyes were closed, and her mouth was slightly open. I looked back at her hands, and was relieved to see they weren't moving. She had fallen asleep, or at least was pretending to have.
Alone now with my thoughts, I tried to figure out how I felt. I knew for sure that I was pissed that she had broken her word. I also knew that the whole experience was a massive turn on. I knew from my porn habits that I was a kinky guy, but I never really thought of myself as being particularly bi. Why had I done what I had done, then? I wasn't homophobic, and had zero problem with gay people, but I spent my whole life totally sure I was just your run of the mill straight guy.
"Jesus" I murmured. I honestly didn't know if it mattered, but for sure I had a mess in my head that I couldn't sort out right then. Fortunately, the drive was ending, and I pulled into a parking spot in front of our flat. I reached over, and gently touched my girl's cheek. She really was beautiful. "Zuz? We are home.."
She inhaled sharply with a start, and then looked over at me. She clasped my hand against her cheek, and then pulled it down to her lips. She held them there, and silently apologized again with her beautiful eyes. I looked back, and felt the familiar feeling of love warm my chest. I glanced again at the cum, and said, "Let's go get cleaned up."
She kissed my hand before dropping it, "I was dreaming about shower." She smiled gently, opening the door and gracefully exited the vehicle.
---
My hand rested on the door knob of the bathroom, but I paused, feeling hesitant to enter. I listened to the shower running and stared at the door handle. We never had privacy during showers, but part of me wondered if she wanted to be alone? "Fuck that," I responded to myself internally, and tried the door knob, which was unlocked, and entered the bathroom.
Steam greeted me as I entered, so I quickly shut the door behind me. Zuzana's perfect form was visible as a shadow through the fogged glass. She stood with her back to the shower, her head tilted back as she rinsed soap from her locks, both hands on her head. Her breasts pointed proudly upwards, droplets of water on goose-pimpled nipples. I licked my lips, she had the perfect body. Already naked, I asked with my hand on the shower door, "Can I join you?"
"Come cookie, come." Not needing any additional prompting, I opened the glass door and stepped into our large shower. I stepped forward, and put my hand on her hip, gently pulling myself to her, and buried my face against her neck, the shower raining down on me. I felt her arms embrace me, and we held each other like that for a long while.
Realizing my face was pressed right where the rogue cum had been, I snarfed, and then finally pulled back, looking at my girl. She cupped my face in her hands, and before I could speak, she said, "I love you cookie. I know I fucked up, but I love you. I only love you. I am yours. You are mine." She squeezed me, "I'm sorry I am crazy, but you are my love." Not giving me a chance to respond, she came forward again, her slippery body pressed against mine, and she kissed me.
She tasted of toothpaste and water, and I wrapped my hands around her slick body as we lost ourselves in each others mouths. I felt her slide one leg between mine, my cock, amazingly, responding to the contact of her thigh. She laughed and looked down at it, and then back at me, "You are amazing." Looking down again, she gripped my still not entirely hard shaft, and gave it a gentle squeeze, "You are amazing too."
She glanced at me cheekily, and then dropped down to her knees. Water poured down my body and hers, and I could honestly hardly feel it when she took me into her mouth. I ducked my head under the stream, and leaned forward, supporting myself with one hand on the wall and looked down, enjoying the view more than the sensation. I rested the other hand on the back of her head, and pulled her to me, feeling my cock continue to harden. I pushed forward and felt it slide down her throat. She moaned lustily, vibrating my shaft.
I flexed, feeling more blood fill my somewhat traumatized member. I ran my hand down to the back of her neck, and grabbed a handful of her wet hair. An image of her tongue reaching for cum dripping from my trainer's cock flashed through my mind, and my grip tightened on her hair. I pushed forward more forcefully until I felt her gag.
She reached up with one hand, and pushed me gently, yet insistently back, and my dick exited her mouth. She took a breath, looking at me before back at my shaft and kissed the head, "I so love you. You are the most beautiful penis I have ever seen." She closed her eyes, and tilted her head, pressing the shaft against her eyes. She bent down, lifting her head, and massaged herself with the underside now, and then pulled back to run the tip against her cheeks like some sort of fleshy beauty device. She opened her eyes, and looked up at me, "let's finish, showering and go to bed no?"
I reached a hand down, which she grasped, and I lifted her up. She wiped the water from her face, and gave me a quick kiss, before turning her back to me, reaching for the shampoo. She pressed the crack of her ass against me, trapping my dick between us. I hummed appreciatively, and slid my hands down her back and rested them on her hips, gliding my shaft up and down between her slippery cheeks.
She laughed and leaned forward, loosely holding the soap down at her side and matched my motion. Her other hand clasped mine and we raised and lowered ourselves in unison. I raised my hands up and massaged her breasts, enjoying the sensations. She looked over her shoulder and asked, "You want to come now cookie? Or do you want to go play in bed?"
Watching my cock head appear and disappear between her cheeks, I wondered, but then said, "Just playing baby. I'm not going to come now."
She turned then, and pressed herself forward, "Good, because you are still a dirty boy." My dick pressed against her belly and she reached up and started to lather my hair with the soap she had apparently dispensed on her hands. I grinned at her, and looked down at her chest. I lean down and start kissing between her breasts, and then take a nipple into my mouth. I can hear her giggle, and then feel her hands press down on my head, guiding me down her body. I follow the waterfall downwards until I am on my knees, her pussy eye level with me.
The last time I saw it, cum was pouring from it onto my face. Now clean, it was still red and puffy, inflamed from the pounding she had taken. I flexed hard, and my cock jumped strongly at the memory. I leaned forward as she continued to massage my head, shampoo running down my face. I tongued her, not tasting anything but soap and water, but enjoying the slippery sensation. She spread her legs slightly to allow me more access, and I reached up to slip in a finger.
Zuz flinched slightly and pulled away, though, reaching down to stop me. "I think she needs a small rest, Cookie. We have to be gentle with her now." I withdrew my hand, but continued gently tonguing her as she rinsed the soap from my head. I felt her shift and turn off the water. I looked up at her gently smiling face, and she reached her hand down to me, "Let's go to bed no?"
She exited first, and had my bathrobe held open for me, which I happily slipped on. She remained naked, and hugged me tightly before turning her back to me to start her evening process. I brushed my teeth, creamed my face, kissed her neck, and went to wait for her in bed.
Unfortunately, my mind wasn't as willing as my cock, and within second of my head hitting the pillow, I was asleep.
--
The sound of the coffee grounder woke me the next morning and, after a stretch and a groan, I checked the clock and saw that it was already 8 o'clock. "Shit" I muttered to myself as I jumped out of bed, adrenaline coursing through my veins, realizing I hadn't set any alarm. I had a 9am interview that morning, and it was a thirty minute drive to work. No lazy Monday with Zuzana.
I threw on some clothes, ran down the stairs and gazed longingly at the breakfast Zuzana had waiting for me. I gave her a kiss and said, "Thank you for this, but I'm so late, I really have to run. Let's talk tonight OK? I love you baby."
Not waiting for her response, I exited the flat and got into the car, praying the traffic wouldn't be bad. I hate being late for meetings, and I was pretty excited about the interview. The company had finally grown to the size where I could justify hiring an executive assistant for myself, and last week we'd received an application from an twenty year old graduate from Portugal named Sofia. She seemed qualified, and the quick background check I'd done (checking her social media profiles) made her seem like a fun person. And yes, she was hot. Not that that mattered. But, yes, she was attractive.
I arrive to the office at five minutes to nine, and one of my guys tells me that she's already waiting in the meeting room. I quickly grab a coffee and a copy of her resume and enter with a smile. She stands as I enter and she offers her small hand to me, which I take and warmly shake. "I'm sorry I'm a bit late, traffic was killer today!" I lied. "My name's Micheal Bray, thank you for coming in" as I gave her a once over.
As I saw on Facebook, she's very petite, and I notice she has gauge ear rings, a piercing in her lower lip, a pixie like face and short dark hair. She's wearing a black dress shirt with short sleeves. Dark, form fitting jeans and black leather strapped shoes completed her outfit. I can see a sliver of skin between the bottom of her shirt and her pants, and notice she has tattoos on her hips. My grin freezes as I bring my gaze back up towards her face. She doesn't seem to be wearing a bra, and I'm almost certain she has nipple piercings. Beautiful in such a different way to my girlfriend.
I see that her smile has turned to a slight smirk, and she raises her eyebrows. "It's nice to meet you Mr. Bray." I take my hand back and gesture for her to sit back down. As I start my pitch about the company, she leans forward and I find it takes monumental will power not to look back down at her breasts. She's whip smart, has a bubbly personality, and laughed at my jokes. By the end of the talk, I'm sure that she will improve the atmosphere and will certainly be up for the job.
As we stand up, I impulsively decide to just offer her the job immediately. With a loud whoop she rushes towards me and throws her arms around me in a hug. Not one of those lean forward at the waist hugs, either, no, she basically jumped into my arms. The feeling of her pert breasts against my stomach, and her belly against my belt, immediately causes some movement between my legs. I clear my throat, put my arms on her shoulders, and push her gently away from me, laughing. "I take that to mean you accept?"
She looks at my hand on her arm, and stops laughing immediately. She stepped back, and looked up at my shyly, chastised. "I'm sorry that I got so excited. It is how I am. I hope it won't be a problem." She looked down again, and I'm confused for a moment, wondering what happened to the Sofia I'd been talking to the previous hour.
"Hey it's no problem at all! I'm a hugger too, no worries. I'm really glad you're going to be with us, and I love you are so excited to join us. I'm excited too! Just be yourself, and I'm sure you'll do great here. I'll see you next week OK? Will send you an email with all the details."
---
"So how was work Cookie" Zuz asks me as we sit down for dinner. She cuts into her chicken and looks at me like whatever I'm about to say is the most important thing in the world. Clearly she was on her best behavior.
I grin at her and say, "It was great actually. I finally found someone to be my assistant." Her eyebrows raised slightly as I continued, "College grad who just moved here from Portugal." The memory of her body pressed against mine flashed through my mind, and I felt my face flush. I coughed and looked down at my chicken, muttering, "She seems great." Smooth.
I looked back up at my girlfriend, and see the familiar jealous look in her narrowed eyes. She's holding her fork loosely, her elbow on the table, a piece of chicken hanging uneaten on the prongs. "She seems great?" she repeated. "What is her name?" Her best behavior didn't last long.
"Sofia."
"Sofia what?"
I laughed falsely, trying to defuse the situation, "Oh come on Zuz baby, she's just going to be a colleague. You don't have to look at me like that."
"What is her last name Micheal?"
I had barely finished saying her family name when Zuz had her phone out, searching on Facebook. "Oh yes Miku, she looks very talented." She shook her head, looking up at me, "You are such a typical man. Hiring hot secretary so you can flirt all day. No, I say no. I do not approve of this." She stared at me menacingly.
"Zuzana! What the hell? Yes, she's not bad looking, but what? It means I can't hire her?" My blood was boiling, and I continued harshly, "Get your head out of your ass. I'm professional at work, and you know that. Plus, I'm not the one who's fucking everyone that fucking looks at me." My rage was back in full force, but this time it was reflected right back at me.
"I am not you Mike. I do not like to watch my partner cheat like you do." She snarled, and I gasped as if she'd hit me in the stomach. Cheat. She had cheated on me. Had she cheated on me? "And don't tell me to shut up, I say what I want." Her glare could kill.
"Well maybe you just haven't watched me fuck the right one." I shouted, not really making sense. I stood up, "You know what? Fuck this. You have no right to say shit to me Zuzana. I'm not the cheater in this relationship!" Conveniently not remembering what I had done with Nina at the party. "I'm going out."
I saw the rage melt from her face, but it was too late, I was out of there. I heard her call weekly, "Miku, where you go? Don't go." As the door slammed behind me. I walked down the street, nearly running, my mind racing. This was bad, our relationship had never been like this. I hailed a cab and went to my local cocktail bar, drinking to get drunk. Not talking to anyone. Morose and alone. Not a good look.
By the time I stumbled home, Zuzana was asleep. I crawled into bed, fully clothed, unwashed, un-brushed, spinning and sad.
---
It's 10:30 am when I wake, my head pounding. I stumble down to the kitchen, and gulp down some lukewarm coffee. Looking at my phone, I see a message from Zuzana, "I am going shopping and then to gym with Nina. Enjoy your hang over stinky man."
I drop the phone onto the kitchen table, and cradle my aching head, looking down at the text, reading it again. Is she mad? Stinky man could be playful, or it could be pissed. I had no idea. She's going to the gym for the first time since the debacle, probably jealous and pissed at me. With Nina. I retched, suppressing the urge to puke. I wonder if I should go to the gym as well, but then see a notification on my phone. I have a meeting in thirty minutes.
I groan and slam the rest of the coffee. Grabbing a banana, I scarf it as I head to the shower. Thanks to a couple ibuprofen, I'm decent enough to join the meeting online.
I'm not able to focus at all though, my stomach churning, thinking about what's going on at the gym. Despite feeling nauseous, my dick was also making it's opinion known, as blood filled it once again. I knew I was fucked up and needed help.
I turned off the camera, barely listening to the team, and looked online for English speaking therapists in Prague. It didn't take long to find something that looked suitable, and it had an online booking form. I've booked my appointment for the following week before the meeting ended.
I say goodbye, hoping I didn't embarrass myself, and stumble to the bed to lie down. My head is throbbing, as is my dick. I unbuckle my pants, and bring it out. I open up a porn site, but before it even loads I have visions of Nina and Zuzana in the sauna with the trainers. I close my eyes and put the phone down. They are on their knees sharing their cocks. I stroke, moaning. I imagine Nina sixty-nining with my girlfriend as she's penetrated from both ends. I realize I am about to come and sit up. What the fuck am I doing?
Just then I hear the lock turn in the door downstairs. I pull my pants up and buckle as quietly as I can, take a deep breath trying to compose myself, and walk downstairs. Zuz is bent over putting down her gym bag as I come into view, causing me to exhaled heavily. I take in the outline of her pussy lips through her tight light blue leggings. My dick pulses, realizing this is what she was wearing in the gym.
She turns to face me, her face flushed, I can see she didn't shower after her workout. Her workout top pushes her breasts together, accentuating her cleavage. Her stomach muscles are defined after her workout, and I can see her abdomen from the bottom of her tits to the top of her vulva. If she hadn't shaved, her bush would be on display. My dick is like a rock.
She licks her lips as she looks at me, her mouth hangs open. Her eyes capture mine as I stand frozen on the bottom step. Without a word she almost runs to me, throwing herself urgently against my rigid body, so hard that we both stumble as I fall backwards on to my ass. Undeterred, she mounts me, and kisses me passionately, her tongue probing my mouth. I feel her hands on my belt, as she frantically unpacks my cock. I grab her top and pull it up, her tits bounce free. I grab her nipples roughly, and moan into her mouth, "Seems like you enjoyed your workout."
She finally releases me from my pants, and squeezes my pole hard enough to make me gasp, "You're right. I did." I continue pinching her nipples, and she my cock. A game of pain chicken, and I realize I'm going to lose. I release her tit with one hand and grab her behind the neck.
Pulling her down, "well enjoy this" I growl, which turns into a moan as her soft mouth takes me to the root, not resisting at all. Her head bobbing rapidly, it feels like she's trying to suck my soul out via my dick hole. I release her other breast and run my hands down her back and into her leggins, grabbing her ass, but wanting more. I stand, and lean down further, my finger finding her pussy. It feels like she's emptied a can of lube there. Wet like we'd been messing around for hours.
"What did you do Zuzana." I feel the butterflies in my stomach, and the familiar feeling in my balls. "Did you fuck him again? Did you fuck them with Nina?" It's too much, I was too close from jerking off earlier. My balls clench and I realize I'm about to blow. I can't stop it. I squeak, "Is this his cum?" as my orgasm racks my body. I spasm and groan as I start to ejaculate, pushing myself as deeply as I can into her mouth.
I can hear her laughing on my dick as it spurts.
I pull my fingers out of her, capturing as much of the cum as I can. But I realize my fingers are clear. Wet, but clear. It's just her. She's just incredibly turned on. I look down, and see she has the head of my dick on her lips, rivulets still streaming from the tip onto her teeth and down her chin. She's smiling, bright eyed. "You are crazy Miku." She looked down at my twitching cock and welcomed it back into her hot, wet, mouth. I squirmed.
I'm bracing myself against the banister, trying not to collapse now, my orgasm finally subsiding. The shit men say right before they come could fill an eight hundred page tome of idiocy. Not my proudest cum shot to be sure, but at least she seemed to like it.
Zuzana stands up and climbs on to my stair, her body pressed against me, her skin rough with dry sweat. She looks at me with a dirty smile. "The only cum I have in me today is yours, Cookie." Laughing, she kissed me, and I kissed back, still dazed. The now familiar taste of semen coating her lips and then mine acts as a smelling salt, bringing me back to reality. Still, her insistent tongue pressed forcefully into my mouth as a slippery reminder of how horny she still was. I reached down into her pants again, and massaged her clit from the front. It's monsoon season in her tights, and they're not up to the task of keeping it in check. She's literally dripping through the fabric.
She pulls back from me and reaches up to collect the cum from her chin, "Do you wish it was someone else's? That idea really made you come fast Cookie. Who's cum do you wish this is?" she asked, holding her filthy fingers up near my face.
I stared at it and opened my mouth, feeling dirty and liking it. I want her to stick her fingers down my throat. She smiled devilishly, knowing she had me, but instead reaches down, smearing my cock in my own cum to use as lube as she jerks me. "Whose come do you want me to have in my mouth, hmm? I feel how hard you still are. I know you like it. You like when your girl is dirty don't you." She kissed me, her still sticky tongue darting into my mouth again. She reaches around and pulls my face down, offering me her chin. I moaned and kissed her face, not bothering to resist, and sucked her chin into my mouth.
"Maybe Kyle?" She paused and I felt her lips curl to a grin as I flexed my dick in her hand. "Did I say you that Kyle came with us to the gym with Nina?"
I groaned and she squeezed my cock, stroking it firmly. Laughing knowingly, "That's right Miku. Are you sure you really want to know why I am so horny?" I continued to kiss her face and mouth, swapping cum as I fingered her. She must have taken my silence as agreement, because she continued, "We didn't have trainers today. It was just me and Nina and Kyle. He is so strong Cookie. He helped me a lot today." Her hand started stroking me faster, and I rubbed her more strongly as well.
She pushed me down again and turned to face away from me. Bending over, she spread her legs. "He watched me stretch like this." She pressed her barely covered ass back to me and arched her back. Her entire backside was soaked with her juices, the smell of her sex potent and mesmerizing. She reached up and slid her tights down, and I saw why her pussy was so visible; she wasn't wearing any underwear. "He liked watching, I know." She lowered herself slowly, looking back over her shoulder at me, resting her bare ass on my abs, my dick slotted between her thighs and pressed against her pussy. Slippery, she started to masturbate me against herself, grinding her hips into me.
"He told me he liked my outfit. But he was so funny, he told me he liked me without my outfit even more and said we have to go to sauna." I moaned and grabbed her breasts again, moving my hips trying to enter her. She slapped my cock-head, "Don't be impatient, listen to my story." she said sternly, and I stopped moving, letting her use me as a toy.
"I let him see me, but we were in the sauna, so that's not cheating right Cookie?" I breathed shallowly, my stomach doing flip flops. She turned to look at me, her hand motionless on my dick, waiting. "Right?"
"Yeah, that's not cheating baby." I admitted, more to get her to keep stroking than anything else. Not thinking clearly, as always.
"Good boy, that's right it's not." She continued stroking me against her clit, her breath coming heavier now. "And it wasn't cheating when I told him that if I was naked, and Nina was naked, then he should also be. And that's also OK, isn't it."
Her hand again stopped, and more quickly this time I answered, "Yeah, everyone should be naked in the sauna." Her hand continued its administrations.
"He was sitting where are trainers were sitting last time, up at the top because he is weak. And Nina and I were next to each other like you and I were sitting. And it was so hot, and we were so sweaty. And I was hurting after the workout, so Nina gave me a little massage there. That's OK isn't it Cookie?"
This time I answered before she had a chance to finish speaking, "Yeah Baby, you and Nina can touch each other whenever and however you want" I moaned at the idea.
"Oh that's so good that you say it Cookie. Because, well, it started as a massage, but Kyle really liked it. He was so funny and had such good ideas. And so we started kissing, and touching everywhere."
"Wait what?" I said, "You were kissing Kyle?"
"No no silly, I told you I was a good girl. Me and Nina. We had a lot of fun showing off for him. I realize I really love sucking on tits." I smiled at that one, thinking to myself that we have that in common.
"And what was Kyle doing?" I asked.
"Well what do you think he was doing" she asked, slyly, her voice low now, quavering. Her breath coming in gasps. Her hand moved faster now on my dick, rubbing directly on her clit. "He was jerking off that big dick of his. Oh he was so hard watching us Cookie. His cock looks so good, it looked so good that Nina went over to him before she made me cum and she sucked him. She kept saying, 'come suck it with me Zuzi, it was so fun last time. You can fuck him, I don't mind.'" She paused to moan loudly now, and looked back to pout at me. "But I didn't do it because I love you Cookie. So I just watched what he did to her, and it got me so horny and I wanted it so bad."
Her juicing were running freely from her now, soaking me from tip to balls. She put the tip of me inside her and groaned, "I love your dick Miku, you know I do.. But Kyle's, oh... you should have seen what he did to Nina." She rolled her hips on the tip of my cock, rubbing her clit now with her fingers. "I thought the police would come she was so loud. And he's so strong how he fucks." She groaned loudly at the thought, and as if to illustrate to me how it was, she slammed herself down on to my lap. We both gasped as I penetrated her fully. Thankful she didn't break my dick in half.
From zero to a hundred, Zuza started bouncing up and down on my cock with a ferocity I'd never seen. Loud slaps as her ass repetitively hit my lap, she was loudly yelping with each penetration. Her orgasm was approaching quickly. "I want to be fucked like that." she gasped. She looked over her shoulder at me as she bounced and met my gaze. Still slamming herself hard on my hardon, she yelped out one word each time she bottomed out. "I want you to watch him fuck me like that" and then closed her eyes and focused on her impending orgasm. I didn't know if I should cry or come.
As always when she talks about Kyle, two forces fight inside me, a horrible jealousy and an unbelievable lust born from the taboo. The lust was winning once again. I wanted to see him fuck her as badly as she wanted to fucked.
Zuz was gasping in Czech now, the same phrase over and over and I clenched my jaw when I realized what it was. "I want his cock," over and over. Her orgasm took her and she slammed down one last time, her pussy clenching so hard I winced in pain as my overused cock struggled to deal with the pressure. She ground her hips, unaware of my discomfort, her eyes closed, whimpering "I want his cock, I want his cock."
The session with the therapist couldn't come soon enough.
--
The address was for an area of Prague near the tourist center that I rarely went to. As I sat on the tram, my mind raced, wondering if I was wasting my time. I had never been to a therapist before, though I had recommended that my girlfriend's go nearly every relationship. Thinking about how confusing the relationship was with Zuzana at the moment, how uncentered I felt, I knew it really was time. My eyes lost focused as the beauty of the city rocked past me. The tram was, fortunately, not very crowded as late fall was the low season for tourists. I found myself examining the other passengers on the tram, noting their nearly universally gloomy faces as they gazed uninterested out the window, or at the phones in their hands.
I wondered glumly at why everyone was always so grim, when I turned to look out the window. I caught a view of myself in the reflection, and saw my own down-turned lips and clenched brow. I raised my hand to my brow and rubbed my forehead pensively, before bringing the hand to cover my mouth. Resting there momentarily, I recenter myself. Yes, some crazy shit had happened with Zuzana recently but, so what?
My business was still going well, I was healthy, I lived in one of the most beautiful cities in the world, and I had been having some absolutely insane orgasms recently. I shook my head and laughed to myself, just heading to do some self maintenance. Get a little mental tune up, nothing wrong with that. I took my phone out of my pocket and scrolled a bit on reddit, trying to keep my mood elevated before the session.
The tram finally arrived at the closest stop, and I hopped out of the seat, heading towards the exit and unnecessarily pressing the button to alert the driver that I wanted to get off. By the time the tram stopped, nearly everyone on the nearly empty tram was up and waiting to exit. The doors opened with a recorded voice warning the non existent people who could have been waiting at the stop to let people off before entering the tram.
I skipped down the steps and checked my phone to orient myself before heading towards the street where the therapist's office was located. The air was crisp and damp, and the square was eerily empty relative to how it normally was during tourist season. I took a deep breath and looked up, enjoying the ornate architecture of Prague as I continued walking towards my destination.
BBBBBBBBBBBBRRRRRRNIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNG. I jumped and bobbled my phone in a panic, realizing that I was just walking blindly across the tram tracks. I prepared to leap to safety before realizing that the tram that had rung was the still motionless trolly that I had just left, rather than one coming from the other direction. I tried to catch the drivers gaze to eye fuck him, but he just stared blankly through me and accelerated slowly. I swore at him under my breath, fantasizing about punching some emotion into his face.
I crossed the tracks, looking both ways, and reached the desired street and walked slowly towards the building, two down on the right. I managed to get my mood back, feeling sorry for the driver. I mean, how much joy do they really have, going back and forth on the same route each day? Scaring the fuck out of a unsuspecting foreigner must be one of the few joys of his experience.
My pace had quickened, and I was gently smiling again by the time I reached the building. As is often the case in Prague, the office was located in a residential building that had been converted at least partially to commercial. I scanned the names on the list of buzzers before finding, Dr. Spirova's name. I buzzed for a second or two, and then waiting.
A pleasant, slightly accented voice crackled through the aging speaker, "Come up, it's the third floor." I held my hand to the door handle, trained over the years to always be prepared to turn it as soon as the buzzer sounded as some of the locking mechanisms were a finicky. Fortunately, this handle gave a satisfying crunch as it turned and I pushed the heavy green door inwards.
The refurbished building gave off an air of well spent money, and I was happy to see that the elevator at the back of the building was a quality and modern construction. I likely would survive this trip up to the third floor.
I checked myself out in the mirror at the back of the lift as the doors closed behind me and we started to ascend. I was wearing a form fitting white collared shirt, the sleeves rolled up to below my elbows. My pants were form fitting slacks. My hair was good, I was shaved and cologned. I felt good, I looked pretty good. I turned around and faced the door as the lift slowed and the doors parted.
Smiling in front of me with the door to her office open behind her stood a brown eyed woman who appeared to be in her early forties. She had her brunette hair in a large bun, held there by two black sticks, though two locks stylishly hung down, framing her face and ending near her chin. Horn rimmed glasses, dark yet manicured eyebrows, long eye lashes and a dark lipstick distracted from what I realized was an adorably crooked, yet proud nose. Her teeth were white, but also had never been straightened. The type of flaws that make a woman even more beautiful in my opinion.
She had one hand outstretched to me, and another clasping a clipboard against her ample chest.
I smiled back at her sincerely, already feeling better about my decision to come here. If nothing else, at least I'd get to look at a good looking woman for the next hour. I strode towards her confidently and reached out to clasp her hand, introduced myself at the same time, "Dobry den. Ja jsem Michal. You must be Diana?"
Her smile widened and her warm, slightly calloused hand, gripped me tightly. "Oh you speak such good Czech!" She cocked her head and continued in Czech, "Would you like to continue the session in Czech?" At least I thought that's what she asked. She raised one eyebrow and waited for my response.
Using a Czech phrase that I'd used hundreds of times in these situations, I responded fluently, "I supposed we could, but if it's OK with you I'd prefer to speak in English. I'm a bit lazy with my Czech I have to admit."
This nearly always impressed the person I was speaking to, but let me continue in English before I embarrassed myself. True to my experience, rather than carrying on in Czech, she released my hand and gestured for me to enter the room.
"Of course, of course." She murmured, looked down at her clipboard briefly. I took the moment to check the rest of her out. She was also wearing a white button up shirt, which clung tightly to her curvy form. Not overweight by any means, but she certainly had a solidness to her that filled out her outfit. A pencil skirt wrapped her strong legs which were covered in dark stockings. Her short high heel shoes were polished to a high shine were pressed tightly together as she stood rigidly, her back straight.
I looked up in time to meet her eyes as I walked past her. "Yes, you indicated that you wanted the session in English on the form. Good, good. Well, first let me thank you for coming." I stopped as I entered, not sure where to go, but after closing the door, the doctor led me down a short hallway to another room. Her ass certainly filled out that skirt, and I had to suppress a whistle of appreciation as she strode in a practiced manner on her high heels. I looked up quickly, not wanted to be caught checking her out, and I was looking at the back of her head when she turned around to smile at me as she opened the door.
"Come in and please sit down in this chair here. I can offer you a coffee, tea or water?"
Rather than immediately answer, I settled in the comfy chair and looked around. The room was simple, clean, and classy. The doctor stood at a small kitchenette counter on which I could see a nespresso machine, kettle and water filter. Glasses were arranged on an open shelf and I smiled cheekily as I noticed the contents of a second shelf above the glasses. Six bottles of various liquors stood proudly an, after a quick glance at my watch to confirm that it was, indeed, late enough in the day to respectfully drink, I asked, "Is that a bottle of Johnny Walker?"
"Yes, yes it is." Her expression turned serious though and she asked, "I don't usually offer alcohol on the first session." Seeing my look of disappointment she continued, "some of my clients who come to see me struggle with substance abuse issues. Honestly, they almost all ask for alcohol rather than what I offer them. I know we haven't really gotten started yet, but you didn't indicate what you're coming to see me for. Is it a substance problem?"
"Ahaa," I said and looked around with an amused expression before turning more serious myself. "I guess I probably do drink more alcohol than I should if I'm being honest. But it's not like I ever feel like I have to drink it. I can have it around the house and not feel at all tempted. So, no, that's not why I'm here. I just do like whiskey after dark though. How about I also order a water, will that be better?"
Her smile returned and she turned and reached up for the bottle of Johnny. Again I found myself staring at her ass, marveling at its size and shape. She was not very tall, and she had to place one hand on the counter to support herself as she raised up on tip toes. Her skirt raised during the motion and I was teased with a hint of dark lacy bands circling her thighs.
Given my nearly permanent state of arousal the last few weeks, I wasn't surprised to feel my cock twitch. I licked my lips, and imagined pushing her forward over that counter, lifting the skirt and fucking her from behind. I felt my dick start to lengthen now as my fantasy continued. Wondering what her big tits would feel like in my hands as I pounded her. I started breathing more heavily. She plopped back down onto her heels, placing the bottle of Green on the counter and reached up for two glasses.
Without looking towards me, she turned and leaned down to open what I realized was a small freezer and reached inside. Her ass was even more amazing from the side, and I had to restrain myself from rubbing my even harder cock. I was so, so horny. I dragged my eyes away from her ass to check the rest of her out, and I nearly moaned when I realized the illumination from the freezer's LED light was strong enough penetrate the fabric of her shirt. The shape of one of her heavy breasts was visible, and I could see that the bra she was wearing only covered the bottom half of her fantastic assets.
She straightened and closed the door, glancing over at me with what could have been a knowing smile. "So, Michael, if you're not here because of a drinking problem, then I am happy to have a drink during our session. I do find that a drink or two can ease some tension and make our conversations more productive."
She turned her back to me again and I heard an ice cube clink into one, and then the other glass. She took the bottle and turned towards me, leaning back against the counter. Looking like she was about to speak, she instead grimaced slightly as she realized the bottle was not so easy to open as she had expected.
Bringing it to her chest, I watched fascinated as she grasped the bottle between her tits to stabilize it, and used more force to torque the bottle. She grit her teeth and grunted as it came loose, letting out a satisfied "aaah" as it twisted loose. Her noises and facial expressions were enough to cause me to grunt as well, to my great embarrassment. My dick was almost totally erect now, the tip having found it's way under my boxers, pressed against my right thigh. Unbelievable that this was happening. I was sexualizing a therapist who I had just met who was simply making a drink. My face reddened and I waited for her to ask me why I was grunting like a perverted teenager.
Fortunately the good Dr. just turned and finished pouring our drinks before, against prompting. "So what brings you here today Michael?"
I swallowed hard and looked down at my hard-on, clearly visible down my pant leg. Why didn't I just wear jeans and a long t-shirt? I looked around a bit frantically before realizing that I was sitting on a pillow that was clearly meant for lumbar support. Leaning forward, I grabbed it and placed it nonchalantly on my lap and answered, as casually as I could, "well, my girlfriend and I have been having problems recently. And I wanted to talk to someone about it."
Dr. Spirova walked towards me, holding a classy tray on which two generously poured crystal whiskey glasses, a flask of water, and two more water classes stood. Gracefully, she placed the tray on a small coffee table that separated my comfy chair with her seat. She lifted one of the whiskey glasses and offered it to me, a gentle expression on her face. Feeling slightly ridiculous with a circular green couch pillow resting bizarrely on my lap, I reached forward to accept the glass.
She took the second one and we gently clinked glasses. "To self improvement" I said and smiled self-consciously. She returned the smile thoughtfully and brought the glass to her lips. I did the same, and savored the slight burn, and then warmth of the quality alcohol as I swallowed a sip. I wondered to myself if she was going to charge me for these as a separate line item on the bill.
She sighed and sat down, placing her drink on a small desk that was next to her chair. She crossed her legs demurely and regarded me. "Relationship problems are best handled in a couple counseling session. That is a service I provide, but you are here alone Michael. Individual sessions focus on the individual. In many cases, what is good for the individual who is having problems in their relationship, is not necessarily good for the couple. If you come to me as a couple, then my focus will be on the relationship. If you come to me by yourself, my focus will be on you."
Her voice was so smooth, her accent so sexy. I was staring at her lips as she spoke, enraptured by her tongue which had made an appearing to lick some reminisce of the alcohol from her lips. She was so smart. I realized for the first time that I could see a hint of bare cleavage, as she had two buttons undone on her shirt. As the words, "my focus will be on you" hit my ears, I found myself flexing my cock hard enough that the pillow on my lap visibly shifted.
Her eyebrow lifted, but before she could continue I interjected, "Yes, that makes a lot of sense. I mean, it's true that things have been very odd with my girlfriend recently, and we definitely need to talk about it more, but I'm more worried about my personal behavior. I mean, I'm worried about what she's doing as well, but I've been doing stuff and I'm not sure if it's normal? I saw your website, and your specialty, and I thought maybe we could help me out?"
"Oh good, I'm glad you have seen my site." she said, smiling now again. She sat straight and took a breath. "We have had a slightly unusual start to this session I have to say, and I'd like to apologize for it. Before we go any further I do want to clarify some things."
"First, my name is Dr. Diana Spirova, as you know, but I would prefer if you refer to me as Dr. Spirova or simply Dr. moving forward in our sessions."
My face reddening again, I started to apologize for my informality but she simply waved her hand and continued talking. "Think nothing of it. I know it is a bit formal, but with the type of things that we will be discussing here, I find that a bit of formality can help."
"Secondly, you may already know, but I am a licensed therapist, and bound by confidentiality laws. Anything you say or do here will be held in the strictest confidence. For our therapy to be effective, I do hope that you will open yourself to me as much as possible to ensure we achieve the full results. Yes?"
My dick pillow was jumping now at the idea of opening myself to this curvaceous woman and achieving full results. I was nearly sweating now with embarrassment. She tapped her lips with her pencil and she observed me.
"Now, you booked this session using my online form, so can I assume you read about me a bit?"
I nodded, of course I had. Her dark eyes held mine. God she was beautiful.
"Good, then you know that I am a sex therapist. I want you to know that in my line of work I have heard everything." She pointedly glanced at the bouncing pillow in my lap and then looked me again my my eyes. "I have seen everything. When you are in this room, you have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. We are going to be talking about sex and it's entirely possible that this will be erotically thrilling to you."
She paused and grabbed her whiskey and held it in front of her face, waited a moment, and then continued, "but I want to be clear that this is not my main objective for our sessions. My goal is to help you achieve balance, understanding, and a love and appreciation for your sexual self." She waited again and looked at me meaningfully.
"Yes Dr. that sounds good..." wondering if I should just start spilling the beans about all the kinky shit that we'd been up to, but her stare made me think she wanted something else. My dick flexed again, despite the fact that she had literally just told me that her main objective wasn't to be "erotically thrilling."
"Michal, you asked for this whiskey, and now you're making me drink alone?"
"Ahh, aha! OK yes sorry" I said, leaning forward to grab my glass. In my hurry, the couch pillow fell to the floor. I looked at it, looked back at her, looked down at my glass, shrugged and took a deep swig, emptying over half the liquid. Fuck it, if she says I don't have to be ashamed, then I won't be. I looked at her more confidently now, smiled and leaned back, spreading my legs to show off my condition.
My fully engorged pipe was easily visible as it strained against the material of my tight pants on my thigh. If the bulge wasn't obvious enough, a small wet spot had formed that extended from where the tip of my dick pulsed a tiny river of pre-cum which gravity pulled downwards to pool near my knee. I watched her look at my situation and flexed, proud at how my dick look, how hard it was trying to escape.
If I had hoped for her to look impressed, I was a disappointed. She looked back up at me and continued to speak confidently, "As I said, it's perfectly natural for you to become aroused, though we had not begun discussing your particular situation before that started to occur." With a slight smile, she continued, "But it appears we can rule out erectile dysfunction as the issue you are dealing with." She looked at me and took her pad of paper from her desk, and a pencil from behind her ear and jotted something down.
"Michal, can you tell me what caused this erection?" looking up at me quizzically.
I breathed heavily, and looked her in the eyes, then down to her lips, down her smooth skin to the hint of cleavage. I glanced up at her face and, not seeing any disapproval, continued to admire her. My eyes returned to her legs which, sadly, were crossed in such a way that not a hint of her garters were visible. My right hand reached down and squeezed my cock as I look at the area where her skirt ended, and thighs began.
I met her eyes and said, "Well, I guess it started when I saw your ass." I ran my hand lightly up and down the length of my erection as I met her eyes. "And then when you reached up for the bottle, I could see some lace on your stockings."
Still not reacting, I continued, "And I imagined what it would be like to push you forward over the counter and fuck you from behind." My hand went to my zipper. I was panting now.
"Michael." Her tone and expression was like nothing what I had seen or heard so far in the session. "While I said that you have nothing to be ashamed of, and I am pleased that you feel so quickly comfortable here in my office, it is entirely inappropriate to masturbate in front of someone in this way. It would be entirely inappropriate to, quote, bend me over the counter and fuck me, end quote."
My hand shot away from my cock to my head, my face beet red with shame, she's right, what the fuck am I doing? I'm going crazy with lust. She's going to have me arrested.
She continued, "I see that what I've said has made you stressed and ashamed, and that is not at all my intent. Please try to relax, this is a safe space and you are OK. I am OK. But it must be clear that no matter the situation, it is not OK to partake in a sexual act with, or in front of someone, without their consent. You know that, right?" I nodded, not sure what to say, and she continued gently, "Just breath slowly Michael, lean back, just count back from 10."
I did as she said, and breathed deeply and started counting, "10, 9, 8."
"Slowly, deep breath in, hold it for a second, and count, then breath out slowly and count, yes 7.."
I took over, as she instructed and felt myself calming down. By the time I was at zero, neither my heart nor mind were racing. My dick was still like a rock, and painfully angled down my pant leg. I grimaced, but did not dare to readjust.
"Good, now, are we clear about consent?"
"Yes, we are, I'm sorry Doctor. I've never done anything like this before, it's just that the last few weeks have been absolutely insane, and I am so horny I'm not acting like myself. I am very, very sorry for my behavior."
"Let's not exaggerate Michael" she said gently and then looked again at my cock. "That looks extremely painful." Her glasses covered eyes met mine and she smiled thoughtfully. She looked at me for a moment, cocked her head as if she'd made some decision, and said smoothly, "Before we continue, let's make you more comfortable. If you'd like, you can undo your pants, and take out your penis. Would that make you more comfortable?" She had her pencil pressed against her lip as she asked that, and I groaned and nodded.
I reached down and undid my belt, unbuttoned and unzipped my pants, feeling natural to be in yet another kinky situation, excited to show off. I pulled my pants down a bit and then reached my thumbs under the band of my underwear and paused, asking, "So I have your consent to take these off?"
"That's right," she said with a soft grin. I lifted my hips and pulled my underwear down and my dick sprung free like a tightly wound spring, precum splashed against my shirt. I pulled my pants all the way down until the were at my ankles, and then leaned back, proud as a peacock of my red and glistening rod. I spread my legs a bit and flexed, enjoying the feeling of being appraised by this incredibly hot and intelligent woman. My dick pulsed in time with my heart beat.
"OK, that looks very good Michael, much better." Her eyes lingered a moment on my manhood before she met my eyes and said, "Now then.. please tell me more about these" checking her notes, 'absolutely insane' weeks you've been having.
Haltingly at first, I started by telling her about the dinner party at Kyle's place. When I got to the part about walking in on Zuzana as Phil and Kyle were grinding their cocks against her as they 'danced' I unthinkingly reached down to stroke my cock.
Dr. Spirova, who had been listening quietly and scribbling notes, immediately tsked and said, "You do not have my consent to masturbate Michael, did you forget?"
I withdrew my hand as if burned and started to apologize, but she again gestured that I should carry on. I was more horny than I could ever remember. I continued the story, how I cheated with Nina, apologizing with Zuzana. I told her how I ate Nina's pussy, and how I had inadvertently eaten Kyle's come. I was flexing my dick now, and precum was running freely from the tip of my dick, coating it and my balls.
She prompted me to continue telling the story, asking how I felt at various points and taking notes during the entire story. She seemed particularly interested in my reaction to my girlfriend sucking on Kyle's dick, or being fucked by Phil, her eyes always returning to my cock as it jerked and leaked during the telling.
"Well that was quite an experience Michael, I can see why you're a bit confused. And was that everything that happened?"
My balls were full to nearly bursting, I knew if I even touched myself I'd come, but with supreme will power I resisted touching myself, and explained that, no, that wasn't all that happened. I told her about the Zuzana watching cuckold porn, and then the trip the the gym. How I had told Zuz not to be crazy, but how she had teased the trainers anyway, and ended up fucking one in front of me. How she had encouraged me to lick his balls, and how I had eaten their cum. How I had come while rubbing my dick against my trainer's legs while he pumped his come into my woman.
My breath was ragged now, my dick completely red, the head purple. I told her how Zuz
Her questions were coming fast now, "And did you want to suck Ray's dick Michael?"
"I don't know, maybe?"
"Would you like him to fuck you in the ass? To bend you over that table and take you while Zuzana watched?"
My dick twitched and I moaned, "No, I don't think so, no. I'm not gay."
"Hmm" she said, watching me and my dick intently. "And what about Kyle? Do you want to watch Kyle split your Zuzana's lips open again? Do you want to watch her gag on his big cock?" I started bucking my hips, not answering, "Do you want him to force it down your throat? To pump a load deep in your mouth Michael?" I groaned and forced myself to stop moving, dangerously close to coming.
I whispered, "No, he's my friend."
"You have my consent to come Michael. You can come thinking about your friend's big fat cock pushing itself into your girlfriend's wet pussy while you watch. You can come thinking about his balls contracting up, and pulsing as he unloads his hot semen into your woman."
I yelled and the orgasm I'd been holding off for what seemed like hours overcame my will. For the first time in my life, I started to come without even touching myself. Dr. Spirova's deep brown eyes caught mine as my ejaculate began to fly from my cock. The first rope splashed me directly in the face and neck, as did the next. I counted as I bucked my hips, my sperm flying randomly, landing on her coffee table, the couch, my stomach, and eventually my lap. Nearly fifteen pulses before I was done. I looked down and was shocked by the volume of semen I'd produced. My dick was still rigid and willing. "I... I..."
"Michael, what just happened was totally fine. Do not feel bad." She looked down and I could see some of my white come on her thigh, and another blast on her foot and left shoe. She smiled broadly at me again and laughed, "It's not very professional of me to say, but that was a very impressive orgasm." She looked down at herself and then back to me, noting that my cock had slowly begun to deflate.
"You might not realize it, but this but I just captured many sessions worth of data in just under an hour. While we are running out of time now, I wonder if you'd be interested in continuing for just a moment? I think there's a bit more to be learned here."
Seeing me nod, unable to speak, she stood up and sauntered slowly towards me. She reached down, and gently raised her skirt, revealing that the lace I had viewed was, in fact, the end of her stocking. She raised her skirt until I could see a sliver of her white skin above them. "Is this OK for you?" she asked gently. I nodded slowly. She raised her right foot, and placed it on my chest. "I want you to clean my shoe." she intoned forcefully.
I leaned forward and took a tissue from the box that was on the coffee table, but she shook her head and forced me back down with her foot. "Nuh uh." she admonished, and then opened her mouth and showed me her tongue, illustratively. "You have my consent to eat your cum off me."
She raised her eyebrows and looked down again at her foot. My cock stopped it's decent, and I leaned forward with mouth open. She brought her leg up, which I caught with my hands, and brought her shiny shoe into my mouth. I sucked the sperm from it, and then continued upwards, tonguing the top of her foot until the next glob was in my mouth. It's salty flavor and texture was familiar to me now, and I swallowed, releasing her leg.
She came closer and reached her hand behind my head, pulling me forwards towards her cum covered thigh. "This too," she whispered, and I pushed my mouth against the fabric. I felt my dick harden further. I could smell her musk, and groaned, realizing how turned on she almost must be. After cleaning her thigh, I ran my tongue upwards until it reached her skin. Trying to reach her pussy with my tongue, but she roughly pushed me back right before I reached my goal. "No Miku, I didn't get you consent for that. Our time nearly up, and we still have some things to discuss. It's time to calm down, and put that away" glancing at my penis. "We had our fun, but now it's time to work."
What followed was twenty minutes of intense analysis, and I had to admit that she seemed to understand me pretty well. Apparently you can get a lot of truth out of a guy who's got a hard dick out.
She explains that it's extremely common for people who are successful in life to enjoy being dominated in their personal life. Kinks in general are not harmful so long as the person who has the kink does not feel harmed by it. The tricky part with mine is that the feeling of jealousy is closely tied to the erotic nature. And jealousy left untreated will eventually cause great harm to a relationship. The trick was learning how to communicate, and to separate the feelings during sex from those during normal life. It's not an easy thing to do.
She recommends that Zuzana join for a couples therapy session in two weeks so we can work on it together. In the meantime, she tells me that a feeling of fairness is important in relationships, and I should try to establish clear boundaries with Zuzana about our sexual practices, and I should look for ways to make things feel equal for me. It's a long and tricky process.
I leave in a daze, feeling cum dripping down my pant leg, and think to myself that therapy is a hell of a lot more entertaining than I thought it would be. I hoped the doctors advise was as good as her dirty talk, because I planned on using it with Zuzana soon.
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<I>For background on this story and to avoid confusion, read “Zuzie Beams Me Up”.</I>
One evening last week, I was walking home from a club meeting and cut across the vacant lot like I usually do. Suddenly, the ground was no longer beneath my feet, and when I looked down, I could see that I was rapidly rising in the air. “Zuzie, what do you want now?” I asked out loud even though I didn’t really think she could hear me. I had been through this before and I was pretty sure I knew what she wanted anyhow. I hadn’t expected her to come for me again, though, so with combined feelings of irritation and anticipation, I rose toward her flying saucer. I felt irritation because it seemed rather high-handed of Zuzie to be beaming me up again, after she had assured me she would be allright for the rest of her tour of duty, and anticipation because I remembered what delicious pussies she has, and what a really great time I had with her the last time.
Zuzie’s flying saucer was high above the clouds and, as I continued to rise, I was getting cold and having trouble breathing. I was greatly relieved when I finally passed through the familiar port and landed on the platform that I also recognized. Zuzie was at the controls and she had an embarrassed look about her although I don’t know how I could tell that it was embarrassment that I saw. “Hello, Zuzie,” I said in a casual manner. “What are you doing, bringing me up here again, as if I didn’t know?”
“Hello, George. It isn’t what you think it is although, come to think of it, I could use some of that too. The grocking with you was really great but it was a long time ago and I could use some more. What I really brought you here for, though, was to prove a point. That receptor over there on my sleeping platform is named Tomiss and she doesn’t believe in you.” I was aware that a “receptor” is the equivalent of a woman on Earth.
I turned to face Tomiss. “Well, you can see I am real. Now, can I go back home, Zuzie?”
“She doesn’t understand you, George. I speak English because I am observing this part of your world. Tomiss is observing a world far away and speaks no human languages. I am ashamed to admit that I bragged to the other receptor observers about grocking twice from the way you penetrated me before. Some of them didn’t believe me and Tomiss expressed so much doubt we are now calling her “Doubting Tomiss”. She comes from a place on Zoop called Masura, where the people have such a reputation for being cynical that there is an expression that translates “I’m from Masura; you gotta show me.”
“Just to prove I am telling the truth or, as she would prefer, to prove I am lying, Tomiss has come over here to see for herself. If I can show her that you did make me grock twice, she will tell the others and I will be believed. I really want to be believed because among receptors, being multi-grockasmic is quite a distinction.”
“You mean that you want me to fuck, er, penetrate you again, and make you cum or grock or whatever, twice, so you will be a big shot and I can go back home? It was fun the first time but it’s getting old now.”
“I just wish it could be that easy. I would really love it if it could be because grocking twice was the highlight of my life, besides being a lot of fun, but it’s not that simple. You have to penetrate Tomiss and make her grock twice.”
I looked at Tomiss again. Physically, as far as I could see, she and Zuzie were identical but I had developed a considerable amount of fondness for Zuzie, as I do for all my lady friends. Tomiss had a certain air about her, almost hostility, certainly unfriendliness, and I really didn’t want anything to do with her. “Now, look here, Zuzie. I like you and I must admit that I had fun the first time here, and if you wanted me to penetrate you again, and you wanted to grock twice again, maybe even three times, I would do it but I don’t like the idea of you whoring me out to your friends.”
“Tomiss isn’t a friend of mine, George. Actually, I dislike her a lot. Grock three times? I’ve never even heard of anybody doing that. Do you really think you could do that for me?”
“Probably. Maybe I could do that for you while Tomiss watches. Would that satisfy her doubts?”
“No. She would claim I was faking them. Sometimes receptors on Zoop do that with their mates although I never have. Please do this for me, George. I would really appreciate it and it would give me a lot of prestige on Zoop. Pretty please?”
When she put it that way, I felt I had to go along. I never turn down a reasonable request from one of my lady friends, and that certainly included Zuzie. “Okay, Zuzie, I’ll do it. We’ll have to use your sleeping platform. If you remember, my methods are very much different from what you have been used to, and they are probably different from what Tomiss is used to also. Tell her that and if she wants to grock twice, she has to let me do things my way.”
Zuzie spoke to Tomiss in a language completely unintelligible to me, and Tomiss responded by removing her coveralls and sitting on the edge of the sleeping platform. With her clothing off, I could see differences between the two observers. While I remember Zuzie’s side receptors as being large and firm, those of Tomiss were much smaller and were sagging. The side receptors look very much like human breasts, and perform some of the same functions so I will refer to them as breasts. Zuzie’s bottom receptor, which I think of as her lower pussy is pretty and pink and surrounded by soft, dark hair while Tomiss’s is covered by a gray thatch that looked unpleasantly wiry, and not much fun to lick. Besides that, I thought I could see the equivalent of her pussy lips drooping through the hair. Zoopian receptors, or pussies have only one pair of lips each. On Zoop, Zuzie’s home planet, the gender is known as “receptors” and their sex organs are known by the same name. To avoid confusion, I will refer to the sex organs as breasts and upper or lower pussies because they serve somewhat similar functions and look a lot alike.
Tomiss remained sitting on the side of the bed as I approached her and I was unsure how to proceed. I needed her to lie down so I could start fondling and licking her breasts, as I had with Zuzie and as I usually do with my lady friends. “Zuzie, you are going to have to interpret for me. Tell Tomiss to lie on her back near the edge of the sleeping platform.”
Apparently, she passed on my instructions because Tomiss did as I wanted but I had the impression that she didn’t really want to cum, or grock, and would prefer proving Zuzie had been lying. Because I have a genuine fondness for Zuzie, that attitude made me determined to get Tomiss off twice even though, for one of the few times in my life, I would be having sex rather than making love. On general principles, I removed all my clothing before I started doing anything.
Like with Zuzie, I knelt beside the bed and cupped one breast in either hand and bent over and started licking the nearest one. Unlike with Zuzie, her breasts were rather flabby and the small nubbins on the ends, which I thought of as nipples, were soft. I continued licking, first one, then the other and back again, and I could feel the nipples becoming harder. I persevered and, eventually, they became almost as erect as Zuzie’s had been, and actually felt good on my tongue.
I drew one of the breasts into my mouth and started sucking on it, again, as I had with Zuzie. There seemed to be a certain tension in Tomiss’s body, as if she were, figuratively, gritting her teeth to avoid what would be a normal reaction. For a long time, I moved my mouth back and forth between her breasts, glancing occasionally at her lower pussy to see if there would be any reaction. Finally, I could see and smell juices trickling from her pussy, and it seemed as if Tomiss were becoming aroused in spite of herself. I continued sucking on her breasts and, finally, I was rewarded as her pussy, reluctantly it seemed, started fucking into the air and producing a steady stream of juices. From the juices, the fucking into the air and the erect nipples, I knew Tomiss was sexually aroused but I still had a long way to go before she grocked, and it was very tiring to me.
When I got on the bed to kneel between Tomiss’s lower limbs, she said something to Zuzie, and got a reply. “She asked what you were doing, George,” Zuzie told me. “Don’t forget to keep stimulating her side receptors. I told her you had some surprises for her and she shouldn’t fight them. She’s resisting but her resistance is breaking down, as I think you can tell.”
That was the impression I had, that Tomiss was trying to avoid grocking but the sensuous part of her nature was betraying her. The Zoopian lower pussy is located in the same place as a human pussy, and reacts much the same, so I licked Tomiss almost the same way as I would have licked a human pussy. There is only one pair of lips, and they were engorged with fluid, probably blood, as human pussy lips become, and as Zuzie’s had been. I licked the outside edge of one lip, starting from below her receptor hole to the end, where it merges with her other lip. Underneath the junction of the two lips is an organ much like the human clit and it seems to serve a similar function. When I had eaten Zuzie’s pussy, her clit had become swollen, just like her lips, and very sensitive, and Tomiss’s pussy was reacting the same, despite her efforts to avoid becoming aroused. Besides the juices and the engorgement of her clit and lips and the fucking motions of her pussy, Tomiss’s body was squirming on the sleeping platform, another sign of her arousal.
Although the two pussies were alike in some ways, the taste was very different. Zuzie’s pussy juice had been delicious but when I tasted that of Tomiss, it had a sour tinge, like vinegar. All pussies taste good, even Zoopian pussies, but some taste less good than others and hers was probably the least good tasting in my experience. Her bristly gray hair was also somewhat unpleasant, tickling my nose and lips but I was able to keep most of it out of my way and concentrate on what my tongue was doing with Tomiss’s pussy.
After licking the first lip to the end, where it forms what in a human woman would be the clit hood, I harvested all the fresh juices. Though not really very tasty, they were good enough that I didn’t want to waste them. The other pussy lip was treated the same way and my mouth was then ready to pleasure Tomiss’s clit, first indirectly and then with my tongue directly fondling her engorged love toy. Tomiss said something to Zuzie and it sounded like a complaint of some kind.
Zuzie answered her rival and then said to me, “She’s complaining that you are doing it wrong. I told her that you are doing it your way and getting a reaction. Tomiss is getting closer to grocking and I told her to be a fair and honest observer and quit fighting it.”
I already knew that Tomiss was closer to cumming from the way her lower pussy was reacting and her body had gone from squirming to writhing on the bed. I brought her further along when I licked her clit hood. That resulted in more fresh juices from her pussy and she started fucking more strongly into my face. Briefly, I stroked her clit with my tongue, while continuing to caress her breasts with my hands. I am hardly an expert on the sex life of Zoopians but I was sure Tomiss was ready to cum so I moved on to her upper pussy.
Although the juices from Tomiss’s lower pussy had left much to be desired, I expected those from her upper pussy to taste much better, and I was right. Zoopian penetrators, the equivalent to the human males, have two sex organs, which are also called penetrators. The lower sex organ is the equivalent of a human cock and the upper sex organ is quite similar to a tongue. They enjoy inserting their cocks into the lower pussies of the receptors and they also enjoy fondling breasts with their “hands”. In order to induce the males to insert their tongues into the upper pussies and cause the females to grock, which sometimes results in pregnancy, the upper pussies produce the most incredibly delicious secretions I have ever tasted. The juices from Zuzie’s upper pussy were the best in my experience, bar none. The upper pussy of Tomiss also produced delicious juices, better than the pussies of most, but not all human women in my experience. So far, that had been the only good part of penetrating her.
Tomiss’s lower pussy was still lubricating so my cock slid easily into her and I started stroking it in and out while fondling her breasts. Her pussy fucked strongly back to meet me, an involuntary reaction, because she was trying to prevent it from happening and couldn’t. My tongue swirled in and out of her upper pussy, caressing her clit, which was even more swollen than the one in her lower pussy had been. My cock felt good, caressing her lower clit while fucking that pussy. Tomiss’s lower pussy felt the same as Zuzie’s had, except looser, and I really enjoyed the delicious juices that were flooding out of her upper pussy.
Even though there was some enjoyment there, it was marred by the mutual dislike between Tomiss and me, and I could feel tension building in her body. Unlike the pleasure that builds up in a woman’s body and leads to cumming, or the pleasure that had built up in Zuzie’s body and led to grocking, the tension that built up in Tomiss’s body seemed negative. It was not at all pleasurable, as if she was fighting the buildup, which she, in fact, was. The resistance was to no avail, because, abruptly, her whole body shuddered, and just as abruptly relaxed, all the tension evaporating.
“You did it, George. She grocked, even though she fought it all the way,” Zuzie enthused, and then she said something to Tomiss that sound like “Nyah, nyah, nyah.” Even though she had just grocked, possibly for the first time in a long while, Tomiss seemed sullen and said something to Zuzie that was probably not fit to print, even if I had understood it.
“Okay, George. She’s beaten and she knows it. Tomiss said she wouldn’t grock even once and you really showed her. One more time! You can do it!” Zuzie was cheering me on and I did feel good about what I had just done. It seems strange that you can hurt somebody by giving her intense pleasure but that is what I had just done to Tomiss and I intended to do it again.
After a few minutes of allowing her to regain her strength, Zuzie told Tomiss to get into position again. I started the same way as I had before and this time there seemed to be no resistance. Tomiss was relaxed and as I licked and then sucked on her breasts, her pussy started fucking into the air sooner and more naturally. “You’ve got her, George. She knows she can’t win so she’s going to relax and enjoy it. I can’t blame her; that’s what I would do.”
Tomiss did enjoy it and so did I, certainly more than either of us had the first time. Her breasts felt better in my mouth and my mouth felt better on them. She said something to Zuzie and it actually sounded like a friendly comment or, at, least non-hostile.
“She said it feels good, George,” Zuzie interpreted. “She likes it and wants you to keep sucking and licking her and then do the same things as you did before. She said the first time should have been the best fucking she has ever had and she feels bad about letting it be wasted. For the second grocking, she wants to let go and enjoy herself fully and not waste it.”
I was glad to hear that because I can’t really enjoy making love or even having sex unless my lady friend is also enjoying it. I don’t think I could ever consider Tomiss to be a lady friend the way I thought of Zuzie but at least our feelings toward each other were much less hostile than they had been earlier. I was happy for Zuzie in her moment of triumph but I also felt better knowing that Tomiss was having fun too.
When I ate Tomiss’s lower pussy, she fucked into my face with zeal, producing a flood of juices. They still didn’t taste all that good and her gray pubic hair was still something of a nuisance, but I enjoyed myself all the same. As I fondled her breasts and sucked her lower clit, I truly took pleasure from the way Tomiss writhed and squirmed on Zuzie’s sleeping platform while moaning from the pleasure she was getting.
When I knew that Tomiss was ready for her second grock, I moved up on her body and feasted on the delicious juices her upper pussy was producing. I thrust my cock into her lower pussy and began fucking her, slowly for a few strokes but then faster when her pussy fucked back so much faster. While I massaged her lower clit with my cock, it was apparent she was on the verge of grocking. Because she was so close, I decided against the usual slow buildup of her upper pussy and went directly to sucking and licking her clit, which was even more swollen that it had been before. As my mouth licked one pussy and my cock fucked the other, and my hands massaged her breasts, I felt her start to cum.
This time Tomiss really let herself go and enjoyed the grocking, the way it should be enjoyed. Her lower limbs wrapped themselves around my hips and her upper limbs, which were like arms wrapped themselves around my shoulders and one of her hands pushed on the back of my head, forcing my mouth around her clit. Holding to me tightly and pushing my face against her upper pussy, Tomiss rocked back and forth on the bed while her lower pussy fucked back to meet the thrusts of my cock.
Tomiss’s entire body gave a great spasm and, unlike the first time, this time I knew she had climaxed. I continued to pound my cock into her until I also climaxed, ejaculating into her lower pussy. For one of the very few times, I had fucked without a condom, knowing that there was no possibility of either STD or pregnancy. She lay on the bed for ten minutes, in a state of blissful relaxation, while I recovered my strength, then got off her and put my clothes back on.
Before Tomiss left, she and Zuzie seemed to make up, as if they were no longer hostile toward one another, and just before she went through the airlock they embraced. There was a slight jolt as the visiting spacecraft detached from Zuzie’s saucer and Tomiss took off. I was glad to see her go because I had some questions I wanted to ask Zuzie about the visit and the aftermath, and in general.
“How do you know Tomiss will tell the truth? Couldn’t she just go and lie and say she didn’t grock even once?”
“All observers take a very solemn oath to tell the truth about what they observe. Since she was here observing, she would never lie about it.”
“Tomiss is another observer and she was over here visiting you. Couldn’t another observer, this time a penetrator come over here and you could get each other off?”
“Our government is very puritanical and would never permit that. If such a visit ever happened, both observers would be immediately recalled and fired in total disgrace. They would probably end up starving to death because nobody would ever do anything for them or help them in any way. The penetrators all know that and would never agree. They all just masturbate and have no real need to come over but we can’t masturbate because we need complicated devices to do it, and the hypocrites in the government won’t allow us to bring them aboard. Zoop is really a penetrator’s world. Other receptors can come over here, though, and there is no problem.”
“I thought it was something like that,” I told her. “Also, there might be the problem with an unwanted pregnancy.”
“There is that too but now I have a problem. Watching you and Tomiss has gotten me really horny. I thought I would be able to hold out through the rest of my tour of duty but I won’t be able to. I really need you to fuck me again. You said something earlier about making me grock three times. I don’t believe that is even possible but it would be fun trying.”
“I’m sorry, Zuzie but I’m just too tired now. Penetrating Tomiss took so long that I’m worn out. However, I will return but I have to know when you are going to beam me up so I will be ready. If it’s physically possible for you to grock three times, I can make you do it, but not today.”
Zuzie understood that because she knew how long I had spent with Tomiss and we made a date for her to beam me up from my back yard a night in the very near future. I had some plans on how I could actually make her grock three times and, possibly, never be needed again.
“Zuzie, how big are my penetrators, compared to those of a Zoopian?”
“Quite small. On Zoop, we have a saying, ‘It’s not the size of the wand; it’s the magician waving it.’ Your ‘wands’ aren’t very big but you do a great job of waving them.”
That didn’t make me feel proud but it also didn’t bother me and I knew how to prepare for my next trip up here. Once again, Zuzie turned on the invisibility ray in conjunction with the tractor beam and I landed back on Earth, unseen and safely.
<I>Thank you for reading this story. I hope you liked it as much as I liked writing it. I have fun writing stories like this one but I have a lot more fun if I know people are reading and enjoying them. I really appreciate feedback, either a Public Comment added to the end of the story or an email to me. Any kind of comment, either positive or negative is welcome and I am always open to suggestions about new story ideas. I always respond to any feedback I receive.</I>
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Originally, "horny" was used to refer to a man who wasn't getting any sex and therefore frequently had an erection when he shouldn't have had one. Since then, it has come to describe someone who isn't getting enough sex, and wishes he or she were getting a lot more. Although it is actually an oxymoron, people, myself included, sometimes refer to "horny women". Extreme horniness, among men and women, is probably a major cause of lost industrial productivity.
I mentioned this to point out that "horniness" means having a strong, possibly overpowering urge for sex, even though the horny person might not have anything that gets hard during sex. One night, a few years ago, I ran into someone who was really horny, and took desperate measures to alleviate it. I don't know if anybody will believe me or not, but I have been living with this story for a long time and I want to tell it.
Late one night, I was walking home and took a shortcut across a vacant lot. As I walked, I felt a strange sensation of walking on air, and suddenly realized that is exactly what I was doing. My feet had left the ground, and instead of proceeding forward, I was rising straight up, at an increasing speed. I am a reader of science fiction novels, and the term "tractor beam", a staple device in science fiction, came to mind. If there were such a thing, it would be a device that could be aimed at a distant object and draw that object toward itself, without causing any kind of disturbance, such as a suction device would cause. I don't know why I say "If there were such a thing", because there obviously is, and I had been caught by it, and was rapidly being drawn to some unknown destination.
It was a cloudy night and in a few seconds I was above the clouds. I looked up and saw what I thought of as a flying saucer, because it looked round. Quickly, I was drawn through a porthole, and then the device shut off and I was deposited on a small platform. I looked around for bug-eyed monsters but all I saw was Zuzie. At first I did not think of her as being female, but I do now so I will sometimes refer to her using female pronouns.
"Hello, George", she said to me. "I am Zuzie from the planet Zoop and I need your help."
The rapid rise had caused some giddiness and I was naturally confused but Zuzie was quite humanoid and didn't seem at all threatening; she seemed very friendly and docile. "What can I do for you, Zuzie", I asked, "and what am I doing here, and why am I, specifically, here?"
"I'm really horny, George, and I want you to fuck me. I have seen you do that for a lot of human females, and I want you to do that for me. If you don't want to, you don't have to, but I know you have sex with women in ways that they like and I want you to do the same thing for me. It won't hurt you any and you will actually like it. Whether you do it or not, I will transport you back home and you won't be hurt at all."
Zuzie then went on to explain that Zoop, her home planet, sent observors out all around the universe to watch other species, particularly to observe their everyday life. Like humans and most species, Zoopians came in two genders, one called the receptors, who bore the young, and the other, called penetrators, who were the equivalent of human males. "I'm a receptor", she told me. "And I haven't been penetrated in over an Earth year, and that's why I'm horny." I asked Zuzie, for the sake of simplicity, to refer to the receptors and penetrators as men and women, and I will do so now.
Zuzie explained further that the women have four organs, called receptors, that were stimulated by the men during sexual intercourse. Then she removed her coverall to show me. The four receptors were in the shape of an elongated diamond, with the upper and lower organs strongly resembling pussies, even to the soft hair, resembling pubic hair, surrounding them. The two side organs looked very much like breasts and, in Zuzie's case at least, very firm, erect and beautiful breasts, so I will call them that. The upper and lower organs were about three feet apart, and the more I looked at them, the more they resembled pussies, even to the point of having labia and a clit, so that is what I will call them. The lower pussy was between her lower limbs, which I could see served the same function as human legs, about where the pussy of an Earth woman is found. Zuzie's pussies even seemed to be lubricating, and I thought I could smell some very delectable juices but I thought that might have been my imagination.
The men on Zoop have much simpler sex organs. Each man has only two, which are called his penetrators, and one of them looks exactly like a penis and is in the same position. During mating, the men insert their lower penetrators into the women's lower pussies while manipulating the women's breasts. The upper pussies are stimulated by the men licking and probing them with organs the men have in their mouths These organs are called their upper penetrators and are virtually identical with tongues. When done properly, with the lower penetrators sliding in and out of the lower pussy and the upper pussy being licked and probed, and the breasts being manipulated, the women have an experience they call grocking, which is equivalent to an Earth woman cumming. Zuzie hadn't grocked in over a year.
"I have seen you mating with many earth women", Zuzie added. "They have only three receptors, the two side receptors like I have", and here she placed her hands under her beautiful breasts, "and the lower receptor, which is very similar to mine. They don't have an upper receptor like I have but I have seen you put your upper penetrator into their lower receptors and later insert your lower penetrator, and I have seen you stimulate their side receptors, so you are not a stranger to the mating practices on my planet but you don't do them quite the same."
I marveled at how sophisticated their observation devices must be because usually I stimulate the receptors in closed rooms but I wasn't concerned about that just now. "If you have been here for a year, isn't there a way you could stimulate yourself instead of dragging me up here? On Earth is is called masturbating."
"I have observed your women masturbating and I envy them the ease with which they do it. On Zoop, we have complicated devices to do the same thing but our government is very puritanical and does not allow them on our observation spacecraft. If they did, I would have been using mine and would not have dragged you up here. It's really not fair because a penatrator can masturbate as easily as a male on Earth, and the observors who are penetrators probably do it all the time. We women have it tough. It just isn't fair."
I pondered the situation for a while. One tenet I always follow is to never refuse a reasonable sexual request from one of my lady friends, and I was already thinking of Zuzie as a lady friend. True, she had brought me up here in a rather high-handed way, but there isn't that much difference between a tractor beam and a telephone call, especially one from some of my lady friends, and she had no other way to contact me. Eating her pussy, fondling her titties and fucking her pussy were requests about as normal as any I had ever gotten, and more normal than a lot of requests.
"Okay, Zuzie, I'll do it. But there are some other things I want to do in the process that you may not be used to. Besides being fondled during penetration, do your side receptors perform any function?"
"Yes, we feed our young with them. But of course, that can't happen with you and me."
"Are there any differences between your lower and upper receptors?"
"Although they look the same on the surface, the lower receptors are connected to internal organs where the young are incubated. Of course, that could never happen with you and me either. The upper receptors are connected to nerve endings which, when stimulated, along with the side receptors being stimulated, enable the lower receptors to perform their function and enable the women to experience what you are calling "cumming" and I call "grocking". All this talking is getting me hornier than ever. Are you going to fuck me or not?"
"I am, but first there are certain things that I like to do, and they may seem strange to you."
"Yes, I have seen you using your upper penetrator on the side receptors of Earth women, and using both your penetrators on their lower receptors, and that has seemed strange but they seemed to like it and you seemed to like it so I think of it as being a variation from one species to another. If you want to do some of these things with me, I guess it will be allright as long as I get a good fucking out of it. My sleeping platform is the best place to use."
The low sleeping platform, or bed, as I will call it was wide enough for Zuzie to lie down on but not really wide enough for both of us. As she lay on the bed, I knelt on the floor beside her and started to lick her nearer breast. It felt like a human titty except for being larger and more firm and the part that would correspond to the nipple was pink and had firm ridges along the base. It felt very pleasant on my tongue, so I held one in either hand and started started licking the breast, or titty, with broad strokes.
"What are you doing? Mmmm, but it feels good. Really good. Oooo, I like that. Keep doing it.", was the response of Zuzie. As her precious nipple became erect, it felt even better to my tongue and I continued to lick it. "Oooooo,yes. Yes. I like that. Mmmmmmm, yes, yes. Keep doing that. Don't stop", was the response.
But, of, course, I had to move over and give the gorgeous twin the same treatment. As soon as I started there, Zuzie was purring in pleasure and encouraging me to keep going. "Oooo, George. Yes. That's really good. Yes, keep going."
I switched back and forth between these twin beauties, licking sometimes with broad strokes of my tongue and sometimes with short thrusts, using just the tip. Zuzie purred happily and told me how much she liked what I was doing. When I clamped my lips on one of her succulent globes and started sucking, while my tongue caressed her nipple, she started thrashing around on the bed. She hadn't been exagerating about being horny. I sucked and licked on the first of her lovely mounds then switched my attentions to the other, and Zuzie started humping her lower pussy into the air. I could see a thick liquid dripping out of it and the liquid looked and smelled delectable, as a woman's pussy juices.
As I sucked and licked on Zuzie's lovely globes, she continued to thrash about on her bed, and both her pussies were humping into the air. "Penetrate me, George", she begged. "I need to be fucked."
I had every intention of fucking Zuzie but there are two things I always do: I always do what I can to satisfy a woman, and that would include Zuzie, and I always eat her pussy before fucking it. In this case, since Zuzie had two pussies, I would want to eat both of them and, acccordingly, I kissed and licked my way down to her lower pussy, expecting to eat her fhere, and then fuck her there while eating her upper pussy.
Because of the location of the lower pussy, I placed my shoulders against the backs of Zuzie's lower limbs and wrapped my arms around the limbs so my face was right in front of her lower pussy. When Zuzie realized what I was about to do, she objected. "What are you doing? That is where your lower penetrator goes. Your upper penetrator goes up here. I'm embarassed because I smell bad down there."
Actually, Zuzie's lower had the same delightful aroma as an Earth woman's pussy and, like many Earth women, Zuzie didn't seem to understand just how wonderfully enticing that aroma is to men. When I started licking the delicious juices, which tasted even better than they smelled, out of Zuzie's lower pussy, she started to protest.
"George that's not the...That's the wrong...Oooo. Ooo, that feels good. Ooooo, yeah", and, as her protests turned to expressions of pleasure, Zuzie's lower pussy started fucking into my face, like an Earth woman's pussy does when I am eating it.
Except that she only had one pair of lips, Zuzie's lower pussy looked about the same as a human pussy and it tasted and smelled just as delectable. I started running my tongue along the outer surface of one of the lips, and it felt like a human pussy lip. The lower end started just below a wet, pink hole, which was the source of the delicious juices I was licking up and swallowing. The upper end joined the other lip, and beneath the junction of the two lips, and seemingly protected by them, was what appeared to be a clit. After I had run my tongue to the meeting place of the two lips, I started caressing what I thought of as Zuzie's clit hood. Her pussy started humping into my face even more strongly, and producing more of the delicious juices.
"Ooooo, George, that feels wonderful. I don't know what you're doing but don't stop. Oooo, yeah."
What I was doing was eating her pussy, the one that had never been eaten before. I was really enjoying the taste, the aroma, and the texture under my tongue. Most of all, I was enjoying the way Zuzie's pussy was fucking into my face and her voice was telling me how good it felt. After licking her clit hood, I brought my tongue back to what I thought of as her vagina or love hole and sucked all the fresh juices out, and then started licking Zuzie's other pussy lip. After remembering what else she needed to have done, I reached my hands up her body and started gently fondling her big, firm titties, making sure my fingers caressed the erect nipples. As I fondled her there, Zuzie's pussy fucked more strongly into my face, and she loudly told me how much she liked what I was doing.
I really liked what I was doing too, and when I write my memoirs, I will list Zuzie's lower pussy as one of the most delectable I have ever eaten. My tongue slowly licked its way up her pussy lip, covering the outer surface completely, and covering it over and over again, all the way to the clit hood. As I licked her clit hood and my hands massaged her lovely globes, Zuzie's pussy produced more delectable juices and fucked into my face stronger than ever, and she was moaning in pleasure in between begging me to fuck her the way she was more used to
"Oh, George. I want to grock. Make me grock. Penetrate me. Fuck me. Penetrate me. Make me grock", Zuzie was begging. "Penetrate my upper receptor."
Her upper receptor was the next place I was going to penetrate, and soon but first I wanted to suck and lick the part of Zuzie's lower pussy that looked like a clit. After I sucked up all the delectable juice her lower pussy had produced, I pulled the clit-like part into my mouth and started sucking on it and caressed it with my tongue. Her reaction was immediate.
Zuzie's lower limbs wrapped themselves around my temples and her upper limbs pressed on the back of my head and pressed my face into her delectable pussy, which was jamming itself into my face, and covering my chin with its warm and fragrant juices. Zuzie could probably not cum - or grock - without my eating her upper pussy and fucking her lower pussy with my cock but she was certainly enjoying what I was doing.
For quite a while, Zuzie rocked band forth on her bed, holding my face against her pussy, but then she realized something was lacking. She realeased my head and looked at me, my face smeared with her fresh pussy juices and said "George, something doesn't seem right. I felt like I was going to grock but it just wasn't right. I need you to penetrate my upper receptor like you were doing to my lower one."
"I know that, Zuzie and I was just about to start doing that." That was when I realized that, although Zuzie was naked, I was still fully dressed. Quickly, I removed my pants and underwear. Zuzie lay back on her bed and, still massaging her lovely titties, I moved up on her body, bringing my cock into position. A long-standing rule was being broken because I was not using a condom but I figured it was not necessary. She guided it into her lower pussy where it slipped in easily because she was dripping wet, and I stroked it in and out a few times. Zuzie loudly expressed her appreciation and wrapped her lower limbs around me again, this time around my hips, and fucked her lower pussy back to meet the thrusts of my cocks.
"Oooo, oooo, George, that's wonderful. Penetrate me good. Make me grock. Use your upper penetrator now." That last instruction was not necessary because I had already started licking the fresh juices from Zuzie's upper pussy. Although the juices from Zuzie's lower pussy had been delicious, they were as boiled tofu compared to the incredibly delicious juices being produced by her upper pussy. This was only logical because this pussy was intended for oral sex. They were so good that I forgot to caress her lovely, and very caressable titties until Zuzie reminded me. After fully enjoying the taste of her juices, I started licking the single pair of lips in this pussy, starting on the end that was just below the lovely hole where the juices were being produces.
With my cock plunging in and out of her wet lower pussy, which was fucking back to meet me, my hands fondling her gorgeous globes, and my tongue licking her upper pussy lips, Zuzie was making a sound that I thought sounded much like moaning, but in pleasure, not in pain. My mouth was busy eating the most delectable pussy in my experience, and that pussy was fucking up into my face, so I didn't ask Zuzie if she was allright but she answered the question anyhow.
"That's it, George, give it too me! Penetrate me! Fuck me! Make me grock. Oh! Oh! I'm grocking. I'm grocking. It's wonderful." Zuzie's upper limbs, which were like arms and ended in hands, wrapped themselves around me, one of them pushing my face into her upper pussy, and the other one around my lower back. With her upper and lower limbs around me, Zuzie rocked back and forth, loudly telling me she was grocking, and how great it was. While she continued grocking, I continued fucking her lower pussy, caressing her lovely titties and licking her upper pussy but I hadn't yet licked or sucked what looked like a clit in her upper pussy, and I wasn't even close to cumming.
Suddenly, there was a great spasm of her entire body, and then Zuzie's lower limbs released my legs and her upper limbs relaxed their grips on my head and back as she sighed and relaxed. "That was wonderful, George. That was the best I have ever grocked. You are a really great penetrator and I will tell my friends back at Zoop about you after I get home. They will be so jealous that I found such a great penetrator as you, so far from home. I will send you back home in a few minutes but first let me rest and regain my strength. When I grock, especially such a great grocking as I just had, I am weak for a little while. But why are you still penetrating my upper receptor like that?"
Zuzie was asking me why I was licking the fresh cum juices from her upper pussy. The reason was simple; they were the most marvelous pussy juices I have ever eaten and I have eaten truly delicious juices from many beautiful pussies. "Zuzie", I asked "have you ever grocked more than once from being penetrated?"
"Me? Never. There are movies that are what you would call porn, and sometimes they show a receptor grocking more than once but nobody believes it can actually happen. Personally, I think you are a better penetrator than any who appear in those movies. You have some methods that are delightful and that I have never experienced before, not even seen in the porn movies, and if anybody could make me grock more than once, it would be you, but I don't know if even you can do it. It would be wonderful if you could, though."
"let's give it a try. I like you and I want to give you the best time I can. My motto is that when I go away from a woman, she has been sexually satisfied. You might think you're allright but you will get horny again. I can do it but you have to give me a chance."
Zuzie lay back down on her bed because she liked the idea of multiple grocking like an Earth woman would like the idea of multiple orgasms but she didn't expect them like some of the Earth women I have been with. Once again I started licking, then sucking on her lovely breasts, paying special attention to her nipples. After a few minutes her nipples started to harden and I could see her pussies stirring and smell the delectable juices. To me, there was no problem in eating Zuzie's lower pussy some more. My cock had been in there a little earlier but I hadn't cum so the only juices were the ones Zuzie had produced and they were delicious. Not as delicious as the juices produced by her upper pussy, but plenty tasty. After spending a lot of time sucking and licking her breasts, I started eating her lower pussy. This time I remembered to fondle her breasts at thr same time. Almost as soon as I started eating Zuzie's lower pussy, it started humping into my face.
The longer I ate her delectable pussy and fondled her lovely titties, the harder her pussy fucked into my face. Her upper pussy also fucking into the air, and I could see and smell juices running from it but I would wait a while before going there. "This is amazing'", Zuzie told me. "I'm still a long way from grocking but I have never been this close to grocking a second time. That feels really, George. Keep doing it. I might grock again. I hope I do."
That was my hope too and, of course, I wanted to cum also but that would be later, while I would be eating her upper pussy and fucking her lower one. So far, on Zuzie's lower pussy, I had licked the single lip and the equivalent of the clit hood, and all around the love hole where I would be putting my cock soon. It was time to start licking and sucking what appeared to be Zuzie's clit, and I remembered what the reaction had been previously, and I was ready.
First, I curled my tongue under her clit hood and gently caressed the precious love button that was hiding there. I could again hear Zuzie making the moaning sound and her pussies were fucking more strenuously, one into my face and one into the air. My tongue caressed her clit for for only about half a minute then I licked the marvelous juices from Zuzie's love hole and started sucking on her clit. Although I knew she would not cum from this, it would bring her closer so I sucked on her clit and massaged it with my tongue.
Zuzie's limbs were thrashing about, and her pleasurable moans were louder. Both of her pussies were fucking up so hard, they were bouncing off the bed. "George, you are incredible", I heard her say. "I can feel I am close to grocking a second time."
Being close was good, for now so I removed my mouth from her lower pussy and moved up on her body, maneuvering my cock to penetrate where my mouth had just been. Her lower pussy was tight but there was plenty of lubricant so my cock slipped in easily and I moved forward so it was rubbing against Zuzie's clit. I fucked in and out a few strokes and felt Zuzie lubricating even more around my cock and her lower pussy fucking up to meet my strokes. I knew that Zuzie was ready, especially when her lower limbs squeezed my legs, and I was ready to resume eating the most delicious pussy in my experience.
Because her upper pussy was bouncing around so much, I had to start licking just below it, then move my mouth up to her wet, pink hole, so I could feast on the plentiful and delicious juices. When I reached the source of her juices, I felt like I was in Paradise. My cock was fucking Zuzie's hot, tight, wet lower pussy, and it was fucking back in perfect unison; my hands were fondling two of the nicest, biggest and firmest titties I had ever felt, with big, erect nipples and my mouth was feasting on the most delicious pussy juices I have ever eaten, while the pussy that produced those juices was fucking wildly into my face, and promising to deliver cum juices that would be even more delicious. And to top it off, the owner of those titties and pussies was telling me how wonderful I was and how much she loved what I was doing. I assume that's what she was doing but mostly it was in her native language, so I couldn't understand, but I could easily understand her tone of voice and her actions.
I loved what she was doing also, but my mouth was too busy eating her upper pussy to tell her. After I thoroughly licked what I have been calling her pussy lips, I was ready to start sucking on her clit, and Zuzie was ready for me to suck there. I clamped my lips onto that delightful love button, and started sucking on it, while my tongue caressed the engorged sides and top. When eating a human pussy, I can usually hold on to her legs to keep contact but my hands were otherwise busy so I had to press my face as firmly as I could into Zuzie's pussy in order to keep my mouth on her clit. Keeping it there wasn't easy, the way it was trying to bounce around, but I managed, and I sucked and licked on her clit until she started cumming.
"George! Fuck me! I'm grocking! I'm grocking! Penetrate me! It's wonderful. You're wonderful. I'm grocking!", and the rest of what she said was unintelligible, at least to me. What I did understand was the way her upper limbs wrapped themselves around my head and back and held my face against her upper pussy, which was where I wanted it to be. Because I wanted to cum also, right after Zuzie climaxed, I started fucking her lower pussy faster, and she responded by fucking back just as fast to meet me, while her lower limbs held my legs tightly.
Zuzie rocked back and forth and from side to side, ecstatically proclaiming what a wonderful feeling it was, and how wonderful I was, and I had to agree that I was a bit of allright. "Oh, George, fuck me good. I'm grocking! I'm grocking!" was the last thing Zuzie said, and then she climaxed with a great spasm, even bigger than the first one. A few strokes of my cock later, and I also climaxed, ejaculating into her lower pussy. Zuzie's limbs released me, and her body totally relaxed on the bed, and she sighed in total peace and contentment. The cum juices in her upper pussy were even more delicious that the juices had been before and I sucked them all out and then licked her dry, but the rest of my body was tired and satisfied to relax on top of Zuzie.
Both Zuzie and I lay contentedly until she spoke. "George, you are wonderful and amazing. The people on Zoop will never believe me so I won't tell them. They will never believe that I could grock twice, especially with a penetrator who wasn't from Zoop. Now I will easily be able to finish my tour as an observer, and I owe you a lot. Do you want me to put you back in the place where I picked you up?"
I had to think about that for a while. It had been late at night when I was beamed up here so it would be daylight now and I didn't want people to see me coming out of the clouds and onto the Earth. My life is quiet and I did not want to cause a sensation so I told Zuzie my reservations. "No sweat", she said, using an idiom she had recently learned. "I can connect an invisibility beam to the tractor beam so nobody will see you till I turn off both the beams when you arrive on Earth."
That seemed like a good idea so I agreed, and that is what was done. I did get a few double-takes when I seemed to appear from nowhere but nobody that I knew saw me and nobody who did see me wanted to admit that they had seen me appear from nowhere. I finished walking home, and I have told nobody what happened until now.
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<i>For background on this story, see the two previous stories of Zuzie and me.</i>
*
The morning after I proved a point and upheld Zuzie's reputation by bringing her rival, Tomiss, to two grocks, roughly equivalent to climaxes for Earth females, she called me to schedule when she would beam me up again. While watching me with Tomiss she had gotten very horny again and would need sex with me to get her back to normal. Using some advanced Zoopian communications technique which I couldn't even begin to explain, she called me at home on my telephone.
"Hello, George. I'm really horny and I need to grock, hopefully twice again. Maybe even three times, like you said but I could never truly hope for that. When can you come up and penetrate me?"
"Tomorrow night, Zuzie. I will be standing out in my back yard at nine o'clock and you can beam me up to your saucer."
"Okay. I know I don't have to tell you how much I'm looking forward to this."
"Me too, Zuzie. I'll see you tomorrow night."
After hanging up the phone, I went to a store where they sell sex toys, except that they call them "marital aids". There I bought a variety of devices like those I have sometimes seen my lady friends use between themselves, but the ones I picked out ranged from medium size to the biggest ones they had. The clerks in these places are used to some unusual transactions and the woman behind the counter kept a straight face as she rang up what I was buying. I suppose the clerks and other employees of places like this talk about their customers and, if so, I was certainly a major topic of some interesting discussions after I left. That wouldn't bother me but it is an intriguing thought.
At the appointed hour, I felt the sensation that was starting to become more familiar as I rose up from my back yard, holding my purchases in a sturdy paper sack, further protected by a plastic grocery bag. The loops on the plastic bag were wrapped around my arm because I didn't want to take any risks of losing anything. Once again, I was drawn into Zuzie's flying saucer, landing on the platform where I had landed twice before. Zuzie was behind the controls but, unlike previous visits, she was naked, apparently wanting to waste as little time as possible before being penetrated, the Zoopian equivalent of being fucked. As before, I very much admired the large, succulent organs that she called her side receptors and I called breasts because of their appearance and position on her body.
"Hello, George," she greeted me. "I'm really glad to see you again."
"Hello, Zuzie, you sexy thing. I'm glad to see you too." Calling her "sexy" was only a little facetious. She really was sexy to me, partly because of her large, naked breasts, partly because I could already smell what I think of as her pussy juices, although they smell and taste better than any juices I have ever had from human pussies, partly because of her cheery disposition, and partly because she really is so much sexier than Tomiss was on my last visit to the same flying saucer.
Zuzie turned off the tractor beam and went to lie down on her sleeping platform. "I really need this, George, almost as badly as I did your first time here."
"Always glad to help a friend, Zuzie," I answered as I walked over to join her, starting to undress on the way. I finished removing my clothing while sitting on her bed, and complimented her on her lovely breasts. After that I didn't say anything because my hands were cupped under those beauties and I was licking one of what are very similar in appearance to human nipples. They even feel much like human nipples, including tiny ridges which became erect when licked, but they are bigger and seem to have a riper feel than those of most women I know. Surrounding the nipples is a ring that seemed much like a human areola, having a slightly puffy texture on my tongue.
She didn't say anything either. After my two trips to her saucer, Zuzie has become used to what she first considered my strange methods, and she knows how well they work. Normally when a Zoopian male and female, what they call a penetrator and receptor get together and fuck, he uses his hands to fondle what I think of as breasts. As I alternated licking her nipples, one hand cupped under either one, I could hear what sounded a lot like cooing in pleasure.
"I like that, George. It feels really good and my lower receptor is starting to get juicier. Your methods are strange but I won't question them because I remember how well they work." A few seconds later, she did question them. "Are you going to suck on me there too? I remember how good that felt the last time."
I didn't say anything because it wasn't necessary to answer in words. I answered by drawing one of the luscious globes into my mouth and sucking on it. My tongue continued to lick her nipple and I could feel her body squirming under me.
"Ooo, yeah! Yeah! Like that!" Zuzie really liked what I was doing and it felt great to me too. Besides her nipples feeling so good on my tongue, her breasts, were even more firm and succulent than those of most of the women I know and gave me almost as much fun. Holding one of the twin treasures in either hand, I moved my mouth between them, sucking either one in turn while my tongue licked her nipples and areolas.
As in human women, Zuzie's lower pussy, or receptor, is located at the junction of her lower limbs. As I glanced down from sucking on her delectable breasts, I could see her lower pussy humping up into the air and I could smell what I was aware would be incredibly delicious juices dripping from her. I knew it was time to put my mouth to work between her legs.
With human women, I would have licked and kissed and nuzzled my way from her breasts down her belly but I had no wish to do so with Zuzie. For one thing, that part of her body is not soft and inviting like that of a woman and for another, and really the main reason, I was avid to devour the juices that were running freely from her pussy. As I had done previously with her, and as I had done with Tomiss, I got up, went around to the foot of the sleeping platform and knelt between her lower limbs. Zuzie, also remembering what I had done earlier, raised her limbs and draped them over my shoulders. Happily, I wrapped my arms around them and leaned forward, first enjoying the delightful aroma of her juices, then leaning farther forward and enjoying their even more delicious flavor. I didn't forget, either, to reach up and fondle her breasts while my mouth was busy on her pussy.
"Mmmmm, that really feels good, George. I knew it would. Don't stop what you're doing."
I had no intention of stopping until the time came to move up on her body to the final position I would use to help Zuzie to grock. Until then, I would feast on her juices and enjoy the texture of her pussy on my tongue. Except that she had only one pair of lips, which were swollen and felt spongy as I licked them, Zuzie's lower pussy looked about the same as that of a woman. A very light coat of soft hair surrounded her lips and it felt even better to me than her bare skin. Taking my time, wanting to give both of us the maximum amount of pleasure, I licked one lip on both sides until I reached the end.
At that point, the lip joined the one that curved up around the other side of her pussy, forming a shelter for the Zoopian equivalent of a clit. From her arousal, Zuzie's "clit" was swollen, like her labia. I would lick her there soon but first I devoured all the delicious fresh juices and licked her other lip, the same as I had the first. When I reached her clit again, Zuzie was ramming her pussy into my face and telling me how much she liked what I was doing and how badly she needed to grock.
"Yes! Yes! Keep doing that. Make me grock!"
With a human woman, I would have sucked on her clit and she would have cum from that. With Zuzie, or any other Zoopian receptor, I would need to penetrate her upper pussy with my tongue while fucking her lower pussy. Before that, I wanted to bring her a little closer so I enfolded my mouth around her clit and started sucking while caressing the sides and top with my tongue.
Her movements became even more erratic but I only stayed there for about a minute, delightful though it was. I knew it was time for Zuzie to grock, the first of what I hoped would be three times that night. She was still lying on her back so I quickly moved up on her body, until I was able to drive my cock into her pussy. It slid into her easily. Her lower hole was wet with her juices and besides that, on Zoop I would be described as "hung like a stud mouse" and Zuzie's pussy was made to accept cocks much bigger than mine. When I started fucking, I made sure my cock was also massaging her clit, because I know that is more important than how far it was going in to her. On Zoop, receptors have a saying: "It isn't the size of the magic wand; it's the skill of the magician who wields it."
As my cock plunged in and out of her pussy, with Zuzie fucking back to meet me, my hands massaged her breasts. Her upper body was writhing under me and her nipples were still fully erect and felt as good to my hands as they had to my mouth. The third thing I had to do was press my face against Zuzie's upper pussy and thrust in my tongue. I was more than happy to do this because the juices from her upper pussy are even more delicious than those I had just been feasting on.
Although Zuzie's whole body was churning up the bed, she forced herself to hold still enough so I could plaster my face against her upper pussy and start flicking my tongue against the clit there. "Yes! Yes!" she cried out delightedly. "Make me grock! Make me grock!"
That was exactly my intention as my hands massaged her firm breasts, concentrating on her erect nipples and my tongue fondled the clit in her upper pussy, reveling in the delicious juices that were gushing from her. I drove my cock in and out of her lower pussy, caressing that clit. Because of the smallness of my cock, I had no trouble fucking Zuzie with hard, fast strokes, and every one, into her and coming back out, stimulated her lower clit.
"Oh! Oh!" she cried ecstatically. "I'm grocking! I'm grocking. Keep fucking me!"
I did keep fucking her, with my tongue, my hands and my cock. Zuzie saw to it that I would, with her lower limbs wrapped around my ass and her upper ones pressing my face against her upper pussy. As she grocked, her whole body thrashed about on her sleeping platform, and she crooned a string of words in Zoopian. Although I couldn't understand the words, I am sure they were pretty much the same as what I have heard human women say in similar circumstances.
Zuzie climaxed with a great spasm of her body, the same as she had on my first visit. After her orgasm, her limbs released my head and body and she lay quietly on her bed. I hadn't cum yet but I removed my cock from her lower orifice and licked all the juices off her upper pussy. They seemed to be even more delicious that they had been a minute ago, possibly because they were the result of grocking, rather than just from arousal.
"That was wonderful, George," Zuzie told me after resting for a few minutes. "You can stop now, if you want to but I would really like you to make me grock a second time, like you did before and like you did for Tomiss."
"I definitely want to, Zuzie, a second time and a third, like I said I would."
"A third time would be amazing, but I don't really believe you could. Still, I didn't believe you could do it a second time, and you did, so maybe you can make it to three. If any penetrator could, it would be you."
"We'll see." Since Zuzie was ready, I started licking and fondling and sucking her breasts, as I had before, followed by kneeling between her lower limbs to lick that pussy. Once again, I took my time, slowly building Zuzie up for her second grock. This wasn't just for her benefit because I intended to cum this time too, and I wanted to enjoy it as much as I could. After a long, intensely pleasurable period of licking her pussy and massaging her breasts, Zuzie's body was writhing on her sleeping platform and her lower pussy was fucking up into my face. It was time, I knew, for her second grock.
Moving quickly in order to not lose the moment, I covered her body again, shoving my cock into the pussy I had just been licking. My hands remained busy on her side receptors and I was able to slide my tongue into her upper pussy. Zuzie thrashed on the bed as she had before until she once again started grocking.
"Yes! Yes!" she cried out again. "Grocking! I'm grocking! Keep fucking me." She said more than that but in Zoopian, and it sounded about like what she had said before.
I did keep fucking her, as her arms and legs once again wrapped around me, holding me tightly against her while her body moved wildly under me. She climaxed, her second that night, with an even greater spasm of her body, while all four of her limbs squeezed me against her. When she was done, she released me, and lay under me, seemingly in total relaxation. I was not finished yet and I continued to lick up the incredibly delicious juices from her upper pussy while fucking her lower pussy, until I climaxed, ejaculating directly into her. Usually, I wear a condom when making love to one of my lady friends but I saw no need for one with Zuzie.
After resting for a few minutes, I rolled off her and sat on the side of the bed. She got up and sat beside me, apparently believing we were through for the night, despite what I had told her were my intentions.
"That was wonderful, George. Once again, you have done what I once thought wasn't even possible. Do you want to rest for a while before I send you back to Earth?"
"We're not through yet, Zuzie. I intend to make you grock three times, like I said I would."
"That would be even more wonderful and truly amazing, but I don't see how you can. I see that when you grocked, you squirted your juices into me, and that usually means you are done penetrating until the next day or even later."
"I think I have a way but I need to find out some things first. The first time I was here, you told me how you can masturbate at home but not when you are here because it takes a complicated machine to do it."
That's right. The Zoopian government won't let me bring my grocking machine with me. They say it would distract me too much from my observations and that it would take up too much space. Personally, I think they are just too Victorian. Is that the right word? Victorian?"
"That's the right word. That or puritanical, and I think you're right. Governments on Earth are usually that way too. Does your grocking machine massage your side receptors for you?"
"Mine does. It's the top of the line model. On the cheaper ones, the user has to use these. She spread out the ends of her upper limbs. The ends were similar to human hands, and she demonstrated by crossing her limbs and holding either of her breasts in one of her hands. "I could do this if I had to but I prefer having the machine do all the work. It's a lot more fun that way and worth the extra cost."
"Is there any difference between your hands and those of a penetrator?"
"No. Except for the differences in individuals, of course. Some penetrators have hands that are bigger than mine or bonier or are different in other ways."
"I know you can't have a penetrator come and visit you but you can have another receptor come over here to call on you, the way Tomiss did, can't you?"
"Yes, within limits. The government would object if we overdid the visiting but a little is allright. They know there won't be any hanky-panky between two receptors because we don't have the right body parts."
"Would another receptor be able to massage your side receptors the way a penetrator does, or the way I did?"
"Why would she ever do a thing like that?"
"Never mind why. Would she be able to do it?"
"I suppose so. We would never do that, though, because there wouldn't be any point. Actually, it would make things worse because there would be increased arousal and horniness but no way to make anybody grock. Why would you ask me such a thing as that?"
"Because I think I might have the answer to your problem." I walked over to the landing platform, picked up the bag that contained the things I had bought that morning. Zuzie looked on the contents with extreme puzzlement when I dumped them onto her sleeping platform.
"What are these," she asked, picking one of several things up from the pile.
"They're called dildos and Earth women use them sometimes when they masturbate."
"Yes, I see that now. I have seen them being used by women on your planet but I didn't recognize them loose like they are here. The bigger ones are about the size of lower penetrators and the smaller ones about the size of upper penetrators on Zoop. What's that black thing with the straps?"
The black thing was a strapon but there was no dildo fastened to it. The big dildos could be attached, different sizes, depending on the wishes of the people using them. The smaller dildos were hand held, and were intended to be used by women to get themselves off. I left them lying next to Zuzie's body. Rather than explaining the concept of the strapon to Zuzie, I felt it would be better to demonstrate, so I fastened it around my waist and under my crotch. My cock was flaccid and didn't get in the way, which was one of the reasons I had wanted to cum before demonstrating the toy to Zuzie.
"Which of these penetrators would you want used in your lower receptor?"
She selected the second largest of the three. "A few years ago, I would have chosen the smallest but now, I think the bigger one would be better. Maybe some time when I might be more daring, I would choose the biggest. I know for sure Tomiss would want only the biggest one, the slut."
I fastened her selection to the strapon belt and stood up facing Zuzie. "How would you like to be penetrated by this?" I asked her. Never before in my life having worn anything even remotely like the toy that I had around my waist, I felt almost freakish. I felt off balance too, at the way the huge dildo, so much bigger than my own cock, seemed to be pulling me toward Zuzie.
"George, that is amazing. I never would have thought of doing such a thing. I can see how it would work, though, with your own upper penetrator doing what it does so well. Do you want to try it out?"
"That's the idea but there's something else I want to use at the same time. Before I start, though, there is one other thing. You now the way I lick and suck your receptors before actually penetrating you? Well, does a penetrator do that?"
"No, never. Not even in pornography."
"Why don't you insist that he has to? He might actually like it, you know. I certainly do, either yours or a female human's."
"I'll try it. Usually they're just out for their own fun but I might get one to do that."
That ended our discussion of oral sex and started the demonstration. As I had done twice before, I began licking her breasts, followed by sucking them and licking her nipples. Zuzie was not very horny after grocking twice already but her arousal slowly grew as I continued my efforts. After a long and very enjoyable time for both of us, she was cooing in pleasure again and her lower pussy was dripping her juices and squirming on her bed.
Since I was more interested in demonstrating the use of dildos, I didn't lick her pussy, but knelt between her legs and prepared to penetrate her with the toy. It felt extremely awkward, because the dildo was so much bigger than my own cock and I couldn't feel what I was doing. The way her lower body was thrashing on the bed made it just that much harder. As I fumbled around with it at the entrance to Zuzie's lower pussy, I gained a certain amount of respect for women who sometimes make use of one of the unwieldy things. My clumsy attempts did at least serve the purpose of coating the tip with her juices, which would be lubrication when I finally got on target and was able to penetrate her.
Zuzie, of course, had never experienced anything like what I was trying to do. On Zoop, penetrators who were going to fuck her presumably would have the same control as I would normally have over my own cock. "Is there a problem, George?" she asked me. "I wasn't horny to start with but I am now after what you did with my side receptors. I really need that big penetrator in me. I think I just might grock again."
As she spoke, she briefly ceased her frantic movements and I was able to squeeze the tip of the dildo into her pussy. "Oooo, yes. Yes, like that. Now put it in all the way."
I did what she wanted, easing more of the toy into Zuzie's lower pussy. After I had enough of it inside, I no longer needed to guide it so I resumed caressing her breasts. Over and over, I thrust forward, plunging it deeper into Zuzie, eliciting moans of pleasure from what my hands and the big artificial cock were doing for her. I looked closely at her pussy and saw how the dildo was pressing against the base of her clit, like I had done when I fucked her with my own cock. The dildo was so thick that, from the angle I was penetrating her, it was filling her completely and caressing what I knew was the most sensitive part of her lower pussy.
She also had an upper pussy with very sensitive parts and, when I had the first dildo almost all the way inside her, it was time to concentrate on that delightful place. Fresh juices were flowing freely and I greedily licked them off, and started caressing her swollen labia. I was actually cheating when I did that because my demonstration called for me to use an artificial cock there too, but her juices were so delicious and her pussy felt so good on my tongue that I couldn't resist the urge.
After devouring all the fresh juices, I removed one hand from her breast and reached over to pick up one of the smaller dildos. They were relatively cheap and the shaft ended abruptly, with no handle or simulated balls. I had deliberately picked out this style because of the way I would have to use it. Since my hands would be busy on Zuzie's breasts, I would need to hold the base of the small dildo in my mouth. From the high level of her arousal, Zuzie's body was writhing on her sleeping platform, and I could see it would be very difficult to insert something into her while holding it like that. Holding the shaft in my hand, I placed the tip at the entrance to her upper pussy and thrust the head into her pussy.
Once the head of the smaller dildo was inside Zuzie, I held the base between my teeth and my hand returned to fondling her breasts. Her upper pussy was just as wet as her lower one had been and I had no trouble driving the toy in deeper when I leaned my face forward. With a few more strokes, the dildo was all the way inside and I was plunging it in and out of her, my mouth pressing against her pussy lips with every thrust, while Zuzie thrashed under me and moaned in pleasure.
I quickly established a rhythm, alternating driving one dildo into her lower receptor and the other into her upper pussy. For a long time we fucked, longer than we had either of the first two times, while Zuzie's body churned the coverings on her sleeping platform and she loudly urged me on. I was having a good time too, caressing her succulent breasts and enjoying the incredible aroma of her gushing pussy juices just inches from my nose.
"That's it, George! Give it to me! Penetrate me! Fuck me! Make me grock!" Zuzie implored me. She may not have believed she could cum three times but she certainly wanted to.
I wanted that too and I continued to do as she wanted, fucking her as hard as I could, considering the unnatural way I was doing it. I wanted her to grock, partly to feast on the abundance of fresh juices she was producing but more than that, to take pride in the unprecedented accomplishment. Finally, we achieved our goal.
"Oh! Oh! I'm grocking!" was her joyous shout. For the third time that night, her arms and legs wrapped themselves around me and hugged me to her. My face was pressed tightly against her upper pussy and my groin was held against her lower pussy so I could no longer stroke in and out. The best I could do was to keep jerking my body to jam the dildos against her two clits and to massage her breasts while she was cumming.
It took her longer this time than it had any of the previous times and her movements were even more frantic under me. She bounced up and down on her bed, causing it to squeak and squawk alarmingly. Her legs, with my body imprisoned between them, swung from side to side and I was glad we were in the middle of the bed. All the while she was cumming, Zuzie babbled, mostly in Zoopian and mostly incoherently although I caught the words "fuck" and "grock" repeated several times.
Finally, there was the spasm of her entire body, as I had grown accustomed to, but bigger and stronger than ever before. Zuzie completely relaxed, collapsing onto the bed like a wet tissue, and her arms and legs released their grip. There was no question that she had climaxed so I removed the small dildo and rewarded myself with all the delicious juices from her upper pussy. Cautiously, I backed the big dildo from her lower pussy and climbed off the bed, leaving Zuzie lying there contentedly. After a few minutes, she opened her eyes and looked at me with what I knew was a smile on her face.
"That was amazing, George. I won't even tell anybody I grocked three times because nobody would believe me. If you don't mind, I want to just lie here and enjoy the afterglow of the best fucking anyone has ever gotten. I'll send you back home in a little while."
"We're not done yet, Zuzie. There's something else I want to show you."
"You want to make me grock a fourth time? Even though it has been really wonderful, I think another time would be way too much. I believe you would be able to do it but I know for sure I couldn't."
"I'm not talking about me making you grock. I want to show you how you can grock with other receptors and make them grock when they come here to visit you."
"With other receptors? How could that be? They don't have the right sex organs and neither do I."
"Now you have." I unbuckled the strapon and held it up for Zuzie to look at. "You can wear this and penetrate her just as I did to you." I picked up and showed her a toy we hadn't used yet, a double-dong with both ends the same length as the dildo I had held in my mouth. "You can put one end of this in her upper receptor and the other end in yours. You can fondle her side receptors like I asked about before. And, when you are finished, she can do the same for you."
Zuzie looked at the strapon and the double-dong and at me and felt around her mid-section, as if she were contemplating how it would feel there. From our earlier conversation and thinking about what I had just done, she was coming to the realization that it could work.
After that, I spent quite a lot of time with her, helping her put the toy around herself with the strap between her legs and showing her how to change the dildos. I even lay on my back, playing the part of a receptor, while Zuzie wore the strapon and pushed the big dildo between my legs. She held one end of the double-dong in her upper pussy and when she moved forward as if to insert the other end into my mouth, I ducked my head to the side.
Finally, Zuzie was satisfied that it could work, and she started thinking which of her fellow receptors was horny enough and adventurous enough to be willing to experiment. With her prestige from having grocked twice before, she could choose almost anybody she wanted. Zuzie hadn't yet come to a decision when she sent me back to Earth, the invisibility ray protecting me from being seen. It was almost daylight when I arrived home and I was so exhausted I slept until after two o'clock.
That was the last time Zuzie beamed me up to her flying saucer but she does call me at home now and then. I wouldn't know how to contact her, but the Zoopian technology is much more advanced than ours so she has no problem, and calls only when I am alone. When I ask how her sex life is, she always answers by telling me about the great times she regularly has with her fellow receptors, but never with Tomiss. Surprisingly, they have found one of the best parts is licking and sucking their side receptors and having them do the same for hers. Not only that, she and the others have come to prefer using their tongues on the upper pussies of their sex partners rather than sharing the double-dong that I left for that purpose. She even described a threesome one time, with her and the others happily grocking. Sometimes I wonder if she will get into trouble by neglecting her duties as an observer.
I wonder about other things too. Zuzie is, I would assume, reasonably educated and intelligent, but the idea of two receptors having sex together and helping each other grock was totally new to her. That would, presumably, mean that any kind of lesbianism was unknown on Zoop. When Zuzie and her sex partners go back home after their tours of duty, will they continue grocking together or will they go back to masturbating if they are not otherwise being penetrated enough. My guess would be the former; everybody who ever expressed an opinion to me preferred sex with another person over masturbating.
And, what about other receptors who aren't getting enough? Dildos and strapons aren't that hard to devise. If Zuzie or one of her former sex partners demonstrates to a horny receptor the joys of penetration with her in lieu of masturbating, will that initiate pass the concept on to others, who will pass it on to still more horny receptors? Will some of them come to prefer grocking with members of their own gender rather than the more conventional way with a penetrator? In other words, have I introduced bisexuality and lesbianism to the planet Zoop?
*
<i>Thank you for reading this story. I hope you had as much fun as Zuzie and I did. I like writing stories on this site but I like it a lot more when I know that people are reading and enjoying them. That's why I always appreciate it when readers take the time to express their opinions by voting. Like most other writers on Literotica, I practically live for feedback from readers, either public comments or email to me. Such comments help me to write more and better stories, and I respond to them whenever I can.</i>
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*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.
Disclaimers: This story has been edited by myself, utilizing Microsoft Spell-check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.
*.*
Martina 'Marty' Reffels parked her car in the students' parking lot of Hattie Caraway High School. The Myndee, Arkansas high school had been built in 1964 and Marty was sure that 1964 had been the last time the school had seen a paint brush.
The parking lot's asphalt was horribly cracked. Any lines delineating parking spaces had long ago faded. But since few of the students that attended the high school actually had their own automobiles, parking availability was not a problem.
"Last year," Marty said out loud as she turned off her car. "Well, it better be."
The nineteen year old girl got out of the car and grabbed her tall thermos. Entering the school, Marty sighed in disgust.
The fluorescent lights still had a few blown tubes. The hallway was dingy, dark.
The once black and white checkerboard tile was now dark gray and light, mottle gray. Many of the tiles were chipped, in need of replacement. The walls were faded; it was hard to tell what color they had once been; it was hard to tell what color they were now.
Marty found her assigned locker and knew she would not be using it. The door was caved in and did not shut fully. Locking it would be an impossibility.
"Didn't Clarkston pass some stupid sales tax pay for education?" Marty asked no one in particular.
"Uh huh, a quarter penny," a male student said. "Feel like you getting your money's worth?"
Room 310 had thirty four desks crammed in haphazard rows of seven and eight desks. Many of the desks were wobbly. A few were missing their tops, some were missing their seats. Marty quickly grabbed one that didn't look too bad. She unscrewed the top of her thermos and took a deep, satisfying sip of her coffee.
"Jesus, smells like shit," one of the school's cheerleaders claimed.
"Smelling your upper lip, bitch," Marty muttered.
Marty looked up when a beautiful red head entered the room. The red head glanced around, pale round face smiling. She checked her card again, then found a desk that was in semi-decent shape.
Mr. Abadie urged his immense bulk into the room. The teacher panted and wheezed as he sat in his chair behind the large desk just as the school's buzzer gave the first anemic bleat.
"Every year, Ms. Davidson swears she's going have that thing fixed. And every year..." Mr. Abadie said.
After the third buzzer, Mr. Abadie asked one of the students to close the door of the room. Then he called attendance.
Marty found out, through the calling of attendance, that the beautiful stranger's name was Honey Fullilove, recently moved from DeGarde, Louisiana. Her voice was thick, like syrup.
Being seniors, Marty and Honey had many of the same classes. But from the moment the buzzer sounded for first class period, the popular clique surrounded the new girl, monopolized her attention.
But whenever Marty glanced over at Honey, the red head gave her a little smile. The one time Marty braved a smile, the red head's smile widened.
Marty stood four foot eleven. She was almost twenty pounds overweight, much of the weight in her buttocks and breasts. Her ankle length brown hair hung limply; usually, she had it done in a ponytail, just to keep it from dragging the floor. Her bright blue eyes, she always thought were her best feature.
Marty would have killed to have pretty green eyes and beautiful red hair like Honey. Marty would have loved to stand five feet four, and have a slender dancer's build like Honey Fullilove.
Marty would have loved to have everyone fawning over her as Honey had everyone fawning over her. Marty was used to being rebuffed, rejected by her peers, at least when they were in front of their friends.
Behind their friends' backs, Marty was the girl they fucked. She was the girl they promised friendship, affection; until they ejaculated. Then they abandoned her.
The day finally came to an end and Marty gratefully went to her car. She made sure she had her thermos with her, made sure to put it into the passenger's seat before driving away.
The following morning, Marty again grabbed her thermos, grabbed the books and the notebooks she'd need for her first three classes.
Entering Room 310, she saw that Honey was already in the room. Two of the football players were trying to impress the new beauty with stories of their football prowess.
Marty had admired Honey's clothing yesterday. Hattie Caraway had a dress code, but it had not been enforced in years. As one teacher joked, 'I'm happy they even bother to dress at all.' Honey's top had been a frilly, lacy top. Her jeans had been snug, enhancing her sculpted legs, her delectable buttocks.
Today's outfit was no different. The black jeans looked painted on. The lacy cream colored top made Honey's bright hair, her beautiful eyes stand out even more.
"Man! You boring yeah," Honey snapped at her two male admirers. "Football's stupid ask me."
To the shock of the people in their little clique, Honey got to her feet and walked out of their little cluster. The beauty walked to where Marty sat, beautiful blue eyes taking in the spectacle of the clique being brushed aside.
"You Marty, right?" Honey asked, taking the wobbly seat next to Marty.
"I uh yeah," Marty said, nervously unscrewing her thermos's top.
"Aw cher, what you got in that?" Honey asked.
"I uh, my coffee," Marty said.
"Stuff stinks," one of the cheerleaders announced.
"See, I grind my own, then I use this coffee press," Marty explained to Honey.
"Man! I try me some?" Honey asked.
"I uh, yeah, sure," Marty agreed and poured some into the thermos's top.
"Man!" Honey enthused, tasting the strong brew. "That good yeah."
For the classes they shared, Marty and Honey walked together, sat together, chatted with one another. At lunch time, they sat together and complained about the horrible school lunch the cafeteria served.
"Yeah, my daddy? He a teacher at that Myndee University there. Psychology," Honey explained why she had left DeGarde to move to the small Arkansas town. "They been after him long time, and then my momma, she kilt herself yeah and we just up and move."
"Oh my God!" Marty said, eyes wide. "My momma killed herself too!"
"You making that up yeah," Honey accused.
"No. No, I'm not. She, we found out, she had breast cancer and she just didn't want..." Marty said, then broke down, crying over the loss of her mother.
Oh! Aw cher! No, no, nuh, uh, don't need be crying no," Honey soothed, hugging Marty tightly.
On Friday morning, William Reffels shrugged when Marty asked if she could spend the night at Honey's house. William was sure this unknown 'Honey' was just camouflage for some boy Marty was having sex with. Ever since his wife's suicide, he found little to care about. He went to work. He did his job. He came home to whatever meal Marty had fixed for them, then he went to bed. In the morning, he repeated the whole ordeal. And William kept wishing for the whole ordeal to end.
Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays, William turned on the television and watched NASCAR, or football, or baseball, or wrestling. And drank beer.
"Not basketball, though. Shit drives me crazy," he said to himself. "Then shoes running up and down the court—squeaksqueaksqueak. Shoot me, huh?"
Marty packed her coffee beans, electric grinder, and coffee press into a small box, each item wrapped in two grocery bags apiece.
"Marty, this friend. They don't have their own coffee?" William teased his daughter.
"Honey likes mine," Marty explained.
"Oh. This Honey. She's got a phone?" William asked suddenly.
"Uh huh; want the number?" Marty asked, surprising him.
"Yes," he decided.
After school, Marty drove as Honey gave directions. Soon, they were driving north past the university. A series of turns put Marty into the more affluent neighborhood of Myndee, Arkansas. Marty had been through this area before, at Christmas time. Many of the houses really went all out on their decorations.
"And, right there, where that boat is," Honey said, pointing.
"Wow, nice," Marty said, looking at the large house.
Inside the house, Marty met Ida Campbell, Dr. Michael Fullilove's fiancé. The stunning blonde smiled warmly and confessed, when Honey had asked if her new friend Marty could spend the night, both she and Michael had assumed that Marty was a boy.
"We be down in the basement, Ida," Honey said.
"Of course," Ida smiled. "I've already got a whole bunch of pillows down there. There's some blankets on the backs of the couches. Oh! And I put the popcorn maker down there. All you have to do is plug it in and turn it on, okay?"
"Thanks, Ida," Honey smiled, pulling Marty toward the door.
"Supper in about an hour; don't do the popcorn just yet, okay?" Ida called out as Honey opened the door.
"Uh huh," Honey agreed as she led Marty into a large room with a long sectional couch, a wall-mounted television and game system. Through a small door, Marty could see a shower stall and a commode.
"Hang on," Marty said as they flopped down on the comfortable couch. "They thought I was a boy?"
"Man, I guess. I don't know me," Honey agreed.
"But they were still okay with me staying over?" Marty pressed.
"Yeah," Honey said.
Honey told Marty that her father had some strange ideas about child-rearing. His specialty was educational psychology. She and a few of the children in her neighborhood in DeGarde had been home-schooled, primarily by her mother, with a curriculum designed by her father.
"In 'bout three months? I'm taking me that G.E.D. thing," Honey said. "Hate school. I mean, other than you yeah."
"Huh!" Marty said, wondering if she could take the G.E.D.
She'd been held back after her mother's suicide. She'd simply quit caring about school, homework, studying. Alcohol and other recreational drugs became the norm for Marty. She'd also become quite promiscuous during this period.
Her grandfather, her mother's father had snapped Marty out of it, though. The grizzled old man had looked at his granddaughter as she sat, nursing an unrelenting hangover and asked if she thought her mother would be proud of her.
"Oh, that so sad yeah," Honey said, hugging her friend.
"Coming down, better be decent," a man's voice called out.
"Quick! Quick! Get them clothes on! Hide all them drugs!" Honey screamed.
"What?" Marty squealed.
"You are so not funny," Michael smirked, coming down the steps. "Ida tells me that Marty is actually a stark raving beauty."
"A what?" Marty asked, surprised.
"Dad, this Marty," Honey introduced. "Marty, this my dad, Dr. Michael Fullilove."
"It is so wonderful to meet you," a handsome older man smiled, holding out both of his hands to Marty.
"Uh, yeah, nice meet you too," Marty agreed.
The man had dark hair and dark eyes. His build was short and stocky. His teeth gleamed white against his swarthy skin when he smiled. His grip was firm and Marty could feel that the man's hands were slightly calloused.
"Had a good day at school today?" Dr. Fullilove asked the two teenagers.
"I guess," Honey mumbled, adopting a sullen attitude.
"Quit," Dr. Fullilove smiled and Honey giggled.
"Supper in about forty minutes, okay?" Dr. Fullilove reminded them and went up the stairs again.
"Your step-mom said I'm a stark raving beauty?" Marty asked Honey.
"Yeah. Well, you are," Honey said, placing a thumb on Marty's cheek.
She traced Marty's cheek, then her jawline, looking into Marty's blue eyes. Her fingers gently held Marty's head.
Marty's head was whirring, buzzing. This was very akin to the feeling she'd had the last time she'd drank nearly an entire fifth of dark rum.
"I mean, man, would love have hair all long like that and cher! Them eyes?" Honey whispered and softly kissed Marty's lips.
Marty thought to protest. She had never been with a girl before. She thought to push Honey away. She thought to grab her overnight bag, her box and storm up the stairs and out of the house.
Marty could smell Honey's perfume, a soft scent of musk. She could smell Honey's sweat; a not unpleasant sweat that filled her nostrils. She could feel the softness of Honey's lips against her own.
Marty opened her mouth and sucked Honey's tongue into her gasping mouth. She brought her hand up and softly traced Honey's beautiful face as they kissed.
Honey's other hand came up and touched Marty's shoulder. Honey gently urged Marty to swivel on the couch so that they more fully faced one another.
"Mm," Honey moaned into Marty's mouth.
"Mm," Marty agreed.
"Marty, you're not allergic to shellfish, are you?" Ida's voice floated down the stairs.
I uh, no, no ma'am," Marty gasped out.
"We're having a shrimp creole; that good?" Ida asked.
"Yes ma'am," Honey agreed.
"She an okay cook, but aw! Man, my momma's cooking? Plate of that? Need slap somebody, I tell you that," Honey said.
"What?" Marty giggled at Honey's odd statement.
They kissed again, then quietly talked until Ida called them up for supper. They held hands as they tromped up the stairs.
"Okay, you know where the ice cream is," Dr. Fullilove said as he finished eating his meal.
"And your Girl Scout cookies yeah," Honey agreed.
"Which are most definitely off limits to either one of you," Dr. Fullilove threatened.
"Need us, come get us," Ida said, rising from the table.
"But otherwise? You two have the whole basement to yourselves," Dr. Fullilove agreed.
Honey brought Marty back down the stairs. Then with another soft kiss, Honey said she'd get ready for bed then be right back down.
"She's cute," Dr. Fullilove said, stopping Honey right outside of her bedroom.
"Yeah," Honey said.
"I uh, so, does this mean...?" Dr. Fullilove asked, not finishing his question.
"I don't know," Honey admitted.
"Well, she's cute," he said again, then entered his bedroom.
In her bedroom, Honey selected a camisole top and a pair of tap pants. She quickly shrugged out of the light green top she'd worn to school that day. With a grateful sigh, she unhooked her bra and let her 30B breasts bobble free.
"Man!" Honey sighed, massaging her breasts.
She unzipped her snug jeans, kicked her tennis shoes off her feet, then slid the jeans down and off. Her pretty pink panties followed and the whole pile of clothes was stuffed into the cute wicker hamper in her adjoining bathroom.
She paused to admire herself in her mirror. Her breasts were small, with pale pink areolae, hard nipples. Her belly was slightly concave, her waist nipped in slightly. Her hips flared out slightly, giving her a slight hourglass shape. Her buttocks were small, tight. Her crotch was hairless, shaved smooth.
In her bedroom again, Honey quickly wiggled into her camisole top and tap pants, then jammed her feet into fuzzy flip flops.
"Good luck," Ida said quietly as Honey left her bedroom.
"Good luck?" Honey asked the young woman.
"Oh! Well, I had assumed you'd be telling your friend," Ida said, coloring slightly.
"Oh," Honey said.
Prancing down the basement steps, Honey saw Marty coming out of the bathroom. The brunette was dressed in short tee shirt and simple panties. Through the tee shirt, Honey could see Marty's dark areolae. Through the crotch of Marty's panties, Honey could see a dark shadow.
Pulling up the Netflix and they selected a movie. Then, as the movie began, Honey plugged the popcorn maker in and then lowered the lights.
"Mm," Marty sighed as Honey draped a blanket over their bare legs.
"Mm," Honey agreed as they snuggled together.
They ate popcorn, drank sodas, and talked while the movie was ignored.
Then, as the credits rolled, Marty leaned up and sucked on Honey's lips. Her small hand when up to cup one of Honey's breasts.
"Mm, oh man! Aw, got me something need tell you yeah," Honey moaned as Marty's touches and kissed grew more forceful.
"I uh, okay," Marty said, pulling back to look into Honey's eyes.
"I, when I was a baby me? Would watch my momma, aw! Cher! My momma? She was so beautiful yeah," Honey said.
She described watching her mother putting on her cosmetics. Honey talked about her mother's fine lingerie, her pretty garments. She told Marty how she would just sit and watch her mother get ready for her day ahead.
"And then I'd get ready," Honey said. "I'd put me my make up on, then I'd put me a dress and her shoes."
"Lots of little girls do that," Marty giggled, remembering that she too did the same thing.
"Uh huh, but I wasn't no little girl," Honey confessed.
"I mean, yeah, I was a tomboy too," Marty agreed. "After it would rain? I'd be right in the creek, getting as dirty as any old boy."
"My dad, he would do these experiments. He'd put out some boy's clothes and some girl's clothes and then wait see which ones I'd get. Man! Feeling them soft, pretty panties? Wasn't no way I was putting me no boy's drawers on, tell you that," Honey said.
"Huh?" Marty asked, beginning to sense that there was a reason Honey was divulging this odd tale.
"Marty, you my best friend, you the first girl I ever, Marty, need you swear you ain't going ever tell nobody none of this," Honey begged.
"Tell nobody none, Honey, what?" Marty asked, thoroughly confused.
"I'm a boy me," Honey confessed.
"You're a, no you're not!" Marty stated firmly.
Honey wiggled out from underneath their blanket. Marty looked at Honey's hotly blushing face, her fearful eyes.
"Look," Honey said, wiggling her pajama bottoms down her shapely legs.
Marty tore her gaze from Honey's beautiful red hair, her beautiful face and glanced down. The camisole top was snug, emphasizing Honey's perky breasts and hard nipples. The hem of the camisole top revealed Honey's pale belly, her soft middle, her little dent of a belly button.
And there was a fat little cock hanging limply over two large testicles.
Honey was uncircumcised; the foreskin draped over the head of Honey's limp cock. Marty goggled at this as well as goggling at the sight of a pale cock where a slit should have been.
"That, that's a, you got a weenie?" Marty asked.
"A what?" Honey couldn't help but giggle.
"A weenie, a dick," Marty said.
"I yeah," Honey agreed. "I was born Henry Michael Fullilove but even as a baby, I knew I wasn't no boy."
"Does it, does it work?" Marty asked, still looking at the small cock.
"I, yeah, we was kissing? Was real scared you going feel it poking you in the leg," Honey admitted.
"You, can you, it shoot?" Marty asked, reaching a small hand out toward Honey's cock.
"Man! Like you wouldn't believe!" Honey admitted. "I mean, been taking me that estrogen stuff? Why it kind of small, but it shoot all over the place yeah."
Marty's small hand came in contact with Honey's cock. She wrapped her small hand around the member and even tugged on it softly. Then she leaned forward and kissed Honey's pouting lips. Her other arm went around Honey's shoulders, pulling Honey toward her.
"Oh!" Honey sighed, thrilled with Marty's reaction.
"Mmph!" Marty grunted, surprised as Honey's cock quickly swelled in her small hand.
Her fingers had barely been able to fit around the fat, short penis when it was flaccid. Now, her fingers and thumb did not meet. The length was still short, no more than five inches, but Honey's member was very thick.
Their tongues dueled while Marty stroked and tugged on Honey's cock. Honey's hands went up to Marty's heavy breasts, hefting the heavy orbs in their snug tee shirt.
Honey wiggled her tap pants down and off her sleek legs. Marty pulled out of their kiss and pulled her tee shirt up and off, freeing her heavy breasts. Honey pulled her own top up and off.
"You ever..." Marty asked, wiggling out of her panties.
"I just, I only been with Richard and Eddie," Honey confessed.
Honey kissed Marty. Then she blushed hotly. But through her blush, Honey did smile.
"I mean, yeah, I look at a girl and I say 'Aw she pretty yeah' but you? You first girl I ever say 'Man! Need kiss her bad!'" Honey divulged.
"Sixty nine?" Marty suggested, already pushing Honey to lie back on the couch.
She swiveled around and looked at Honey's swollen cock. A little of Honey's cockhead peeked out of the thick foreskin. Marty could see Honey's excitement oozing out.
"Erk!" Marty grunted when she felt Honey's slim fingers pushing at her overheated crotch.
Honey's fingers opened Marty's pussy. Then Honey's hot breath blew across Marty's wet pussy lips.
To Honey, Marty's pussy had an aroma of sweat, of musk, and yes, slightly of fish. Bot Momma and Ida said, if a woman kept herself clean down there, there should be no odor. But neither Ida nor Momma ever made mention of a woman being excited.
Honey could tell Marty was excited. Her inner lips were plump, wet with her excitement. Marty's little clit, looking somewhat like a little penis, more like a thumb, was sticking out.
Just above the pretty little pussy was Marty's tightly clenched brown star. Honey usually inserted a finger or three into her anus when she pleasured herself. If she was really in the mood to be nasty, Honey had a fairly thick candle that she liked to work into her anus.
Both Richard and Eddie had been more than willing to use Honey's hot sucking mouth for their pleasure. Honey already knew what semen tasted like; she usually caught her semen into the palm of her hand, then she would lick her palm clean after her climax had passed.
Richard had balked at anal sex. Honey had used the excuse that it was her time of the month, then offered him her ass. According to him, only homos ever did that kind of stuff.
Eddie had been quite eager, and had blasted his second climax onto Honey's buttocks as he was preparing her anus for his cock. He had made the mistake of looking down while his finger plumbed her depths.
Thankfully, his recovery time was quick, and he did manage to shove his cock into her hole. Three thrusts and he was done. But Honey, already quite worked up from his finger, quite worked up from sucking his cock, quite worked up with the thought of being fucked, was also quite quick to achieve orgasm.
Now, looking at Marty's tight little pucker, Honey squirted a little of her excitement, thinking of shoving her cock into Marty's tight little hole.
Honey leaned her head up and began slowly, lovingly licking up and down Marty's fragrant slit. Marty's mouth was slowly sinking over the tip of Honey's cock. Marty's small hand was still pumping Honey's cock.
Honey wormed her tongue into Marty's slit, lapping up her flavor. She almost giggled as she felt Marty's shudder of pleasure.
Marty's mouth was stretched wide. Honey's cock was fat, slightly larger around than a juice can. She had learned, after having one boy slap her face, quite forcefully, to keep her teeth out of the way. Her tongue wormed underneath the foreskin of Honey's cock and she waggled her tongue.
"Erk!" Honey gasped, then giggled.
"Erk!" Marty agreed when Honey gave her clitoris a little suck.
Marty hefted Honey's quite large balls, 'weighing' them in her small hand. She did marvel at the smooth soft skin.
"Marty, I'm Marty," Honey hissed urgently.
"Mm-hmm," Marty gave her permission.
She could tell Honey was close. She'd sucked enough cocks to know when her lover was about to spurt his nasty, thick, slimy sperm. That first boy, the one that had slapped her face for accidentally scraping his cock with her teeth had also slapped her face when she pulled her mouth off of his spurting cock. The fact that it had been unexpected, she'd been surprised when his cock began shooting was no excuse, in his opinion.
Marty stroked Honey's cock rapidly. Her head bobbed up and down the length of Honey's cock as quickly as she could bob. Her throat muscles worked at creating suction.
"Oh!" Honey gasped out.
Marty's mouth filled with Honey's semen. She swallowed as quickly as she could, not allowing any of the semen to escape her tight lips.
"Mmph!" Marty almost protested as Honey's mouth and fingers brought her to her own orgasm.
She grunted and bucked, rasping her pussy against Honey's face. Somehow, Marty managed to not lose contact with Honey's beautiful cock.
"Mmph!" Marty protested when she felt Honey's tongue at her ass hole.
But she kept sucking and pumping Honey's wilting cock.
"Oh, yyeess!" Marty hissed when Honey jammed a spittle wet finger into her anus.
No one had ever touched Marty's anus before. She did have one partner suggest it but Marty shut that idea down immediately.
Honey's cock slowly revived as Marty licked and stroked it, and licked and sucked Honey's fat balls.
Honey continued to tongue Marty's pussy while working two, then three fingers into Marty's ass. When Honey licked Marty's clitoris, then gave it a hard suck, Marty grunted in orgasm.
"You, I, we got to fuck, you got to fuck me," Marty begged.
Marty scrambled around, swiveled so that she was looking into Honey's beautiful eyes. The two girls kissed, tongues tasting tongues.
"Oh!" both girls moaned as the tip of Honey's cock pushed into Marty's pussy.
Continuing to kiss, Marty wiggled down. Her pussy flowered open, allowing more of Honey's fat meat to enter her. Honey's small hands now toyed with Marty's heavy breasts, fingers tugging Marty's sensitive nipples.
"God!" Honey grunted as nearly half of her cock was enveloped in a warm tightness.
Neither Richard nor Eddie had known that Honey had a cock and balls. Neither Richard nor Eddie had touched Honey's hard cock. Marty's was the first hand, the first mouth, and now, the first pussy to ever touch Honey's cock.
"Ugh! God, you're so big. Baby, you're so big," Marty groaned as her pussy stretched to accommodate Honey's fat cock.
The two girls mashed their mouths together again, tongues thrusting frantically. With a wiggle, Marty had all of Honey inside of her tight pussy.
"Shit!" Marty suddenly barked out.
Honey felt her thighs and crotch suddenly become wet. She looked up into Marty's tightly clenched face as Marty shuddered through an orgasm.
"Oh," Marty finally sighed as she slumped against Honey.
A moment later, Marty pushed herself up into a sitting position. She smiled weakly at Honey, then rose up slightly. Then she lowered herself. At first, Marty's movements were jerky. Then she established a rhythm and bounced on Honey's cock.
Honey again played with Marty's bobbling breasts. She bent her head forward and captured one of Marty's bobbling nipples."
Oh, shit yes!" Marty gasped out when Honey bit down lightly on her nipple.
Again, Honey's crotch and thighs were squirted when Marty had another orgasm. Marty shook and shuddered through the orgasm.
"Marty, I'm Marty I'm about to," Honey hissed urgently.
"Come in me, Honey. Come in me," Marty cried out.
"Ugh, oh God!" Honey cried out as her sperm bubbled rapidly.
Both girls shook and shuddered as Honey's hot spunk filled Marty's pussy. Spurt after spurt shot into Marty's tight hole.
"Ugh, oh yyeess!" Honey gasped out and fell back, exhausted by her orgasm.
"Yyeess," Marty agreed, collapsing on top of Honey.
The two lay, gasping and grunting for a few moments. Then Honey reached both arms up and around, hugging the sweating Marty tightly against her sweaty body. She gently kissed Marty's cheek.
"I, I think I'm in love with you yeah," Honey whispered.
"Better be, 'cause I sure as shit love you," Marty wheezed.
Honey felt their combined juices beginning to seep out of Marty's pussy. She felt their juices trickling over her heavy balls.
"Need scoot up," Honey urged.
"Huh?" Marty asked.
Honey pulled Marty's legs up, causing her semi-erect cock to slide out of Marty's pussy. Wiggling down, and tugging Marty forward, Honey managed to pull Marty's pussy over her face.
"Oh, oh shit," Marty gasped as she knelt over Honey's sucking mouth.
Marty pinched one of her nipples and brought her other hand down. She rubbed her clitoris while Honey's tongue slurped at her puffy, sticky pussy lips.
After another orgasm, Marty wiggled off of the couch and scampered to the small bathroom. She did not bother to close the door as she plopped down on the small commode.
Through the open door, she watched as Honey used her fingers to scoop their juices from her fat balls, her small belly, and her chest. Marty had felt their juices seeping out of her pussy, but had not realized just how much had seeped out of her.
Now, as she urinated, she could feel just how stretched her pussy was. Marty actually giggled, thinking that out of all the partners she'd had, the one that had filled her the best, the one that had fucked her the best had been a girl.
She patted her pussy dry, then washed her hands. Returning to the room, she smiled when Honey slowly swiveled to sit up.
"Man!" Honey said.
"Yeah," Marty agreed, sitting next to Honey.
"Want some ice cream?" Honey asked.
Marty looked up at Honey. Then she giggled. A moment later, Honey giggled too. Then the two girls were convulsing in laughter, but neither one knew what was so funny.
They did not go for ice cream. Marty kissed Honey softly, lovingly. Then she gently pulled Honey on top of her. She spread her legs wide, urging Honey to slide her cock into her.
Having already come twice, Honey was able to last a while. She drove herself into Marty's sloppy pussy, causing squelching sounds as her cock pistoned, in and out.
"Oh, Honey, Oh Honey, God," Marty cried out, her legs winding around Honey's waist.
"Man!" Honey grunted and again, her semen jetted out forcefully.
Then, Honey pulled one of the blankets down and covered them. They slept, Honey's chest against Marty's naked back, her small hand underneath Marty's heavy breasts.
Michael and Ida woke to the smells of coffee. When the fog of sleep had left their heads, they could hear the sounds of two girls chattering and giggling.
"Let me go make sure they don't burn down the house," Ida smiled, kissing Michael.
She pulled a satin robe around her nude body, then slid her feet into slippers.
"Good morning, girls," Ida smiled, seeing Marty operating a coffee press, Honey at the stove.
"Good morning," Honey smiled.
She excitedly pointed to the sizzling, spattering cast iron skillet. Ida peered in at the five lumps of dough that floated in the hot oil.
"I'm make us bunch of beignets," Honey said.
"Do you deliver?" Ida teased, seeing that it was just after seven in the morning.
"And Marty making us that coffee," Honey continued.
"It does smell good," Ida said.
She kissed Honey on the cheek. Then she gently patted Marty's shoulder.
"Okay, I'm going back to bed," Ida said.
Honey flipped the frying treats, getting both sides golden brown. Then, she dumped the finished cakes into a paper bag, dumped a handful of powdered sugar into the bag, gripped the mouth of the bag and shook the bag vigorously.
At the table, both girls whistled as they tried to pick up the steaming hot beignets. Then they whistled as they tried to bite the far too hot treats. Scalding hot coffee was used to try to wash the hot bites down.
"Man, Honey! This is great!" Marty gasped out, hurriedly biting into her beignet.
"Uh huh," Honey agreed.
When there was a soft knock at their door, Ida hurriedly pulled her robe on again. She smiled at Michael as Michael wiggled into his boxer shorts.
"Guess it's my fault," Ida said. "I asked if they delivered. Come in!"
Honey and Marty came in, carrying a cookie sheet. There were two plates of sugar covered beignets and two mugs of hot coffee. Both girls smiled as they served the breakfasts.
"And we going clean it all up; don't worry 'bout that," Honey assured her father as she and Marty scampered out of the bedroom.
"Um, love this coffee," Ida praised.
"Hmm," Michael agreed.
Honey and Marty did clean up the kitchen; Honey had a habit of wiping everything down as she went along, so clean-up was quick. Then, they went down the stairs again.
They kissed for a few moments, then both girls wiggled out of their clothing again. Honey pulled the blanket over them again and lay on her left side. Marty lay on her left side and wiggled back until her buttocks came in contact with Honey's hard cock.
"Ugh! Oh yes," Marty grunted as Honey's cock slid into her wet pussy from behind.
Honey's cock was too short for them to do much more than short little jabs against one another. Soon, they became frustrated. Then Honey pulled Marty onto her knees. Kneeling behind her, Honey drove her cock into Marty's welcoming pussy.
Within moments, both girls were slamming against each other, their bodies making loud slapping sounds. Then both girls stiffened.
"Ugh! God, man, Marty," Honey grunted.
"Yes, Honey, yes," Marty cried out.
A few moments later, Honey pulled her shrinking cock from Marty's stretched pussy. She then glued her mouth to Marty's pussy and sucked their juices from her girlfriend's pussy.
Satiated, the girls slept again. They both groaned, exhausted when Ida stuck her head into the room and called down that lunch was ready.
On Monday, Marty went to the guidance counselor's office and inquired about the GED program. Mrs. Aucliffe seemed shocked that Marty Reffels, a lackluster student showed any real initiative. She gathered the information and showed Marty what she would need to do.
William Reffels met Honey. Then, he turned on the television, blaring the pre-game show for Monday Night Football. He pulled himself further into his isolation, shutting his daughter out.
Many evenings and nearly every weekend found Marty and Honey together, studying for their GED tests. Even though Honey had a bedroom on the second floor of the home, the basement became their unofficial home. They would study, make love, study, then sleep.
"Okay, we going be taking that test this Saturday," Honey reminded Marty needlessly one Thursday morning. "So, need study real hard."
"Uh huh," Marty groaned.
"Man, what wrong? You ain't feeling good?" Honey asked, noticing that Marty's naturally tanned skin had a slightly pale pallor.
"I don't know," Marty whined.
Then, she lurched for the bathroom. Honey actually cried as her girlfriend threw up into the commode.
"What's wrong?" Ida said gently, standing in the bathroom door.
"I don't know," Marty sobbed out.
"Ida you help her," Honey demanded, sobbing.
Ida smiled softly as she crouched down. She hummed softly, soft soothing sounds as Marty gave yet another heave.
"Okay, its okay, you're okay," Ida hummed when Marty finally sat back onto her heels.
Ida wet a facecloth and cleaned Marty's sweating face. Then, Ida sat on her own heels and looked Marty in the eye.
"Okay, I am sure you two of been, um, making love down here," Ida said directly. "But you have been using protection, right?"
"I'm on the...oh, my God, and I haven't been taking them," Marty groaned, then gasped out.
"Okay, well then, I think we might have a little problem on our hands," Ida said grimly.
"What you mean?" Honey asked, still crying.
"Honey, your girlfriend's pregnant," Ida said.
"She is?" Honey asked, beautiful eyes wide.
"So, now we've got some decisions to make," Ida said, getting to her feet.
"I'm keeping it," Marty declared, hands going to her still flat belly.
"Hmm? And how are you going to provide for it? Care for it? Martina, babies are not cheap," Ida said gently.
"I don't care; I'm not getting an abortion," Marty said firmly.
"Well, no, but after birth? You could put it up for adoption," Ida pointed out.
"My baby? You want me..." Marty gasped, horrified.
"Martina, it's not what I want. It's what's best for the baby," Ida said, pulling Marty to the couch.
"I, we raise it together; it my baby too," Honey declared.
"That's wonderful," Ida smiled. "Uh, and you'll pay for the hospital bills with...?"
"I get a job me," Honey decided.
"Sweetheart, I've lived here all my life," Ida said gently. "I can tell you; Myndee is not exactly bursting with opportunities. And you are not going to be able to support you, a baby, and a girlfriend on what Walmart pays, hear?"
Ida softly kissed Marty's cheek. She then got to her feet.
"You two get ready for school," she said. "We'll talk more this afternoon, okay?"
"Shit!" Marty said as she and Honey drove to school. "Didn't even have time make us our coffee!"
Between home and school were a few convenience stores. Neither Marty nor Honey were in any mood to chance drinking convenience store coffee though. So, both were quite grumpy as they struggled through their morning.
Ida was seated at the kitchen table, pad, calculator, and pen in front of her. She smiled softly and had the two girls sit down at the table.
"Okay, so, let's say, you get a job at the Pak N' Sak," Ida began.
"Ah! Man! Marty, that it!" Honey declared.
"What it, damn it, got me talking like a coon ass. What's it?" Marty asked.
"Coffee! We didn't want us none that Pak N' Sak coffee no," Honey said excitedly. "And I do them beignets!
Ida found her pad and calculator being wrested out of her hands. Marty used Honey's cell phone to look up prices while Honey scribbled out what she believed they would need.
"And that bug place closed down other week, remember that?" Honey asked.
"Couple months ago, Honey," Marty laughed at Honey's odd sense of time.
"Know what I mean yeah, don't be like that," Honey groused. "And ain't nobody been by see nothing 'bout it neither."
"Girls! GIRLS!" Ida called out as both Honey and Marty raced down the stairs to their basement. "We still have to...never mind."
'Zydeco Coffee' opened two months after Marty and Honey had passed their GEDs. Honey's mother had left Honey her jewelry and after careful consideration and some praying, Honey used the jewelry as collateral for a loan.
"Have you had your Zydeco Coffee today?" began popping up on small signs around Myndee.
The small signs began popping up two weeks before the grand opening of Zydeco Coffee. The owner of the building that had housed LR Exterminators was only too happy to rent out the empty building; each day it stood vacant cost him more and more money.
"Beg net? What's a beg net?" their first customer asked as she stood in front of the counter.
"Ben yay," Marty smiled. "It is a delicious hot doughnut with powdered sugar. You get three beignets and an average cup of coffee for five ninety nine."
"What the hey; I'll do ten extra crunches today," the woman said. "Give me that."
"One order," Honey called out just as Marty finished preparing the coffee.
"Thanks, Sweetheart," Marty smiled, taking the paper bag through the window that separated counter from kitchen.
"That, give me whatever she just had," their second customer demanded, sniffing the air appreciatively.
The small signs coupled with word of mouth had a line forming out the door before their first hour of business had ticked off the clock. Honey and Marty had it timed perfectly; Honey's beignets would be ready just as Marty had finished pressing the coffee.
At the end of their first day, both girls were too exhausted to shower. But they both complained about how the other smelled. So, exhausted or not, Marty and Honey crammed into the small shower to wash the smells of coffee, hot oil, and sweat from their bodies.
"Oops, I dropped the soap," Marty teased, bending over.
The hot water had somewhat revived her. And, seeing Honey, beautiful red hair wet, clinging to her had made Marty's nipples harden, her pussy moisten.
"Here, I get that for you," Honey said, sliding her hard cock into Marty's pussy from behind.
"That ain't where my soap at no," Marty grunted, bracing her hands against the wall.
In the morning, Marty woke up, finding herself alone for the first time in many months. She felt around on the soft, comfortable couch for her lover, but did not find her.
Marty realized, she did not like waking alone.
Upstairs, in the kitchen, Honey finished preparing hot oatmeal, with plenty of raisins and pecans and honey stirred in to the porridge. Her father watched as Honey smiled widely while preparing breakfast.
"Now, I know you don't like cooking that much," Michael asked.
"Well, when I'm doing it for my Marty? I love it me," Honey declared.
"Do you love it when you're doing it for me?" Ida teased Michael.
"No. Whether it's for you, or me, or the queen of England, it's still a pain in the ass," Michael said.
"I don't like being by myself," Marty snapped, entering the kitchen. "You. You don't leave me like that no more, hear?"
"Baby, got make us breakfast," Honey apologized.
The four of them ate the hearty, far too sweet breakfast. Then Honey and Marty raced to get ready for their second day of work.
"They're either overly enmeshed with one another..." Michael started to say.
"Or, they're very much in love," Ida finished.
By the end of the first week, the loan had been repaid. Word of mouth had lines in front of the door before six a.m., when Marty would reach up, flick the light switch on, then unlock the front door.
"Y'all need be open on Sunday, hear?" a customer complained. "Right after church? This would be just perfect."
But when Honey Bee, a local on-air celebrity from 92.9 KITN, the kitten that roars sang the praises of 'what has to be the best coffee I ever tasted,' Honey had to make a frantic call to Ida to run to the grocery store; they were almost out of everything.
Ida arrived, saw the two or three hundred people milling about in a downpour and shook her head in disbelief. She parked behind the small building and knocked on the rear entrance.
"Man! That the last of it yeah," Honey said, grabbing the bags out of Ida's hand.
"Coffee! Please tell me she's got coffee," Marty said, sticking her head in the small window.
"Four bags," Ida assured Marty.
Ida stood and watched as Honey mixed a batch of dough with practiced ease. She watched through the window as Marty handled the impatient customers with humble charm.
"But it's raining," one woman snapped at Marty, as if Marty could control the weather.
"Yes ma'am. Think how many people there'd be if it wasn't raining," Marty agreed.
"Order up," Honey yelled and a small cheer broke out.
"Bye," Ida said.
"Love you," both Honey and Marty called out, swinging into their ballet of service again.
At the end of their first month, after all expenses had been paid, including the nine times Ida had been called to make emergency runs to the grocery store, Marty and Honey stared at each other in disbelief.
"Eleven thousand, eight hundred and fifty two dollars and ninety one cents?" Marty verified.
"That what it say," Honey agreed.
"And if we was open on Sunday; everybody keep saying we need be open on Sunday," Marty mused.
"Then when we going sleep?" Honey asked, almost angrily.
"Girls," Michael interrupted. "Why not hire some help?"
"I mean, what are you two going to do when Marty has the baby?" Ida asked.
Honey and Marty looked again at the dollar amount, then silently communicated. Their eyes passed their thoughts back and forth, then they both nodded in agreement.
"Okay, but I ain't giving them no recipe," Honey said.
"Then you just mix it up and tell them what they got to add to it," Marty agreed.
"That was...interesting," Michael said as the two girls dashed downstairs.
"Told you; they're in love. Now, think you and me can do that? Ida asked.
Michael and Ida stared at each other for a long moment. Then Michael smiled.
"Oh, all right, we'll make love," he said.
"That wasn't what I was thinking!" Ida laughed. "But, okay."
"What were you thinking?" Michael asked, kissing her.
"Was thinking, uh, we've been engaged now for five months, but uh, ever plan on maybe setting a date?" Ida said, allowing him to lead her to the stairs.
"Tomorrow," Michael said, entering their bedroom.
"Tomorrow? We can't get married tomorrow! I still have to find my dress, oh! And Honey and Marty; they're going be my bridesmaids. Them and Kristi. Sweetheart, I know you don't like her, but she's my maid of honor and..."Ida exclaimed.
"No. We'll set the date tomorrow," Michael said, unbuttoning his shirt.
"Oh. Ha-ha, that's not funny, Michael," Ida said, turning and leaving the bedroom.
Honey and Marty hired three teenagers. Debbie Atkins was a heavy-set girl who claimed she love to cook. Frankie Franklin was a hulking young African-American youth. Beth Collier was a cute, bubbly blonde that had boundless energy.
"So, why's it Zydeco Coffee and not Zydeco Coffee and doughnuts?" Beth asked as Marty showed her how to operate the coffee press.
"Them people charge by the letter," Honey said, looking through the window at the counter.
"I was thinking same thing," Frankie laughed. "Man! This hairnet? Making my head sweat."
Their first afternoon off, Honey and Marty went to Dr. Ubelhauser for Marty's first check-up. The handsome young doctor had a warm, friendly smile, warm, friendly eyes, and a gentleness that made both Marty and Honey trust him.
Both smiled happily when Dr. Ubelhauser pronounced mother and baby to be in good health.
Their first morning off, even though they could have slept late, Honey and Marty were up, cooking breakfast. Then they went with Ida and Ida's cousin Kristi Campbell to select bridesmaid dresses.
Seeing Ida as she tried on her wedding gown, Honey and Marty looked at each other. Silently, they communicated, their eyes filling with tears.
"I love you yeah," Marty finally said.
Dr. Michael Henry Fullilove and Ida Helmsley Campbell married April second and went to Cozumel, Mexico for their honeymoon. Michael started off the marriage on a sour note when he declared that the college's Spring Break being scheduled at the same time was 'just a happy coincidence.' That would have been fine, had he said it just that one time. But as the champagne flowed, he repeated the statement over and over.
"So glad it's convenient," Ida snapped when Michael again reminded Ida's mother that Spring Break and their honeymoon was occurring at the same time.
"Daddy, need be quiet yeah," Honey whispered.
"Guess what? DJ says he's got a Wayne Toups," Marty excitedly told Honey.
"Ooh, I like him. He got any Lynn August? Oh! Oh, or Dennis Ourbe?" Honey asked, allowing herself to be dragged to the dance floor.
"Now, no burning down the house while we're gone," Michael drunkenly ordered Honey and Marty while Ida tried to drag him toward the car.
Honey and Marty put all the gifts into the trunk of Marty's car, then drove over to Zydeco Coffee. They sat and watched as Beth cheerfully prepared a cup of coffee, watched as Frankie smiled, pushing out an order of beignets.
Satisfied that the business was running smoothly, Marty and Honey drove home.
In their basement, Honey put on a Dennis Ourbe & The Benders cd. She and Marty danced around the large room, looking into each other's eyes.
When the cd started again, Honey bent and softly kissed Marty's beautiful lips. She then helped Marty out of the snug bridesmaid gown.
Marty lay on the couch and played with her pussy while watching Honey undress. Then, when Honey approached the couch, hard cock bobbling, Marty reached out and grabbed Honey's cock.
"Mm," both Honey and Marty moaned when Marty took Honey into her mouth.
Marty continued to rub herself while she sucked and stroked Honey's meat. Honey reached down and began to pinch and twist Marty's hard nipples.
"Mmph!" both Marty and Honey grunted in orgasm.
Marty held the last few spurts of Honey's semen in her mouth. Then, when Honey lowered herself to lay on top of Marty, the two kissed, sharing Honey's semen.
"Ooh!" both girls groaned when Honey's renewed erection slid into Marty's pussy.
*.*
The honeymoon between Dr. and Mrs. Fullilove started on a sour note. By the time the flight from Little Rock, Arkansas landed in Atlanta, Georgia for the Fullilove couple to catch their connecting flight to Mexico, Dr. Fullilove was suffering the effects of alcohol withdrawal.
By the time they landed in Mexico, Dr. Fullilove was drunk on airplane champagne. To the flight attendant, to fellow passengers, Michael bragged about Ida's oral skills, informed all that 'the carpet matches the drapes' and bragged that he was nearly twice her age.
Alcohol was plentiful at their resort and Michael imbibed quite heavily. On Thursday afternoon, Michael woke Ida from a nap, an embarrassed hotel maid in tow.
"Hey, Ida!" Michael drunkenly declared. "Carmen here? Says for a hundred bucks, she'll fuck both of us. What you say?"
"Carmen," Ida snapped.
"Eh, Amiga? It Anna," the maid said.
"Anna, please leave," Ida snapped.
The maid gratefully fled. Ida got up, made a pot of very strong coffee, woke the now slumbering Michael and made him drink the coffee.
"My son, EXCUSE ME, my DAUGHTER makes a much better cup of coffee," Michael snickered.
"Listen up, Dr. Michael Henry Fullilove..." Ida growled furiously.
"Oh oh, I'm in trouble," Michael giggled. "She used my full name."
"You touch one more drop of alcohol? I will get a divorce the minute we get back to Myndee. Do you hear me?" Ida now screamed.
Michael stared at the beautiful young woman in shock. But, even in his alcohol fogged brain, he could tell that she meant every word of it. He promised that he would not drink any more alcohol. He was very contrite and apologized profusely for his stupidity.
After another nap, Michael woke up, alcohol withdrawal making him shake. Then he became resentful of his new wife. How dare she make demands of him? She was little more than a college drop-out. A beautiful, sexy college drop-out, but a drop-out all the same.
Marty and Honey were at work when Ida walked in. Marty squealed happily, which brought Honey to the small window. Honey too squealed happily at the sight of her step-mother.
Then both girls saw that Ida was not smiling. Tearfully, she informed them that she was leaving them, leaving Michael, leaving Myndee, Arkansas.
There was an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting that met every Tuesday and Thursday night in the university chapel. A very nervous Michael entered, looked around at the strangers, and found a seat.
An older man asked him if he'd like a cup of coffee and Michael agreed.
"Billy," the man said.
"I uh, I'm Doctor..." Michael said.
"We uh, we're not into titles around here," Billy interrupted. "Okay? I'm actually lieutenant William Browning with the Clarkston County Sheriff's office. But, here? I go by Billy."
"Michael," Michael said.
"So, Michael, this your first meeting?" Billy asked.
"I uh, yeah. I mean, I kind of had a problem with it in college. Vodka mostly. Well, vodka and amphetamines. But what college kid doesn't, huh?" Michael admitted. "Saw it was really getting to be a problem so said 'This is it, no more' and haven't touched the stuff in twenty years."
"So, what happened?" Billy asked. "Know it hasn't been twenty years since your last drink. Your hands are shaking too much."
"Got married. Someone put a glass of champagne in my hand and..." Michael admitted.
"It's the first drink gets you drunk," Billy nodded.
*.*
In the summertime, Zydeco Coffee hit a small slump. The heat and humidity conspired against many people buying piping hot coffee, piping hot doughnuts. And, the novelty of a new business in a small town had also worn off slightly. So, instead of clearing nine to eleven thousand every month, Honey and Marty were down to six to nine thousand a month in profits.
Still, Marty and Honey hired two more employees; Marty was due at any moment. Becky Drummel was a pudgy African-American girl that had an infectious giggle. And Andy Percy was a red headed, freckle faced geek with thick glasses. He took one look at Beth Collier and was instantly smitten. The bubbly blonde blushed, but smiled and told the stammering young man she hoped they'd work together a lot.
June third, Marty groaned. Her groan woke Honey.
"Baby, you okay?" Honey asked.
"Baby's fine. Momma ain't," Marty groaned again.
They were now in the living room; the basement steps becoming too hard for the heavily pregnant girl to travel up and down comfortably.
"Daddy," Michael heard, interrupting a dream of the beautiful Ida.
He had contacted her, through her mother. He had told her that he was now attending Alcoholics Anonymous meetings, now realized he had a problem.
"I am glad you're getting the help you need," had been Ida's response.
"Daddy, baby's coming," Honey whimpered.
"All right," Michael smiled a reassuring smile. "Be right there. Get Mommy dressed, oh, and put some clothes on, huh? Don't need be wandering around the hospital in your nightie, okay?"
Michael silently told the dream Ida he'd see her again. Then he dressed, brushed his teeth and put on his shoes.
"Daddy!" Honey cried up the stairs.
"Coming, I'm coming," Michael called back.
At Conway Medical Center, Marty was admitted quickly; the contractions were coming less than three minutes apart. Dr. Ubelhauser was already on premises; his younger sister was also in the maternity ward, having given birth to her first child.
Michael ambled down to the cafeteria and sent Ida a text message, letting her know she was about to become a step-grandmother. Then he remembered to send William Reffels a text message.
When William had met Honey, he was surprised to find out that Honey really did exist. Then, he was disgusted, watching his daughter's affections for the attractive young woman.
His daughter's pregnancy pushed William further into his shell of beer, NASCAR, football.
The last three months, William had not spoken to, nor seen his only child. As far as William was concerned, Marty had simply disappeared.
"About to be a grandfather?" William asked his silent phone. "Huh?"
The word 'grandfather' woke William from his fog. He uncoiled his stiff, sore body, got to shaky legs, then staggered into his bathroom.
While William was scraping several day's growth from his sunken face, Michael was not enjoying his cafeteria cup of coffee. But, he did have to admit, it was better coffee than Kevin made. Kevin was a chronic relapser that attended the Chapel AA meetings. He simply could not, or would not grasp the concept of 'If you don't drink, you won't get drunk.' And he made terrible coffee.
"So, what's the latest?" Ida asked.
"You, you're here," Michael stammered. "You came."
"Hey, I'm about to be a grandma," Ida smiled tightly. "Grandma, not step grandma."
"Oh my God, and I'm about to be a grandpa," Michael realized.
"You really hurt me," Ida said, sitting down next to Michael in the hard plastic seats.
"I know. And I am so, so sorry for that," Michael said. "And I know, just saying 'sorry' doesn't make up for any of it."
"What happened, Michael? One minute, I've got the man of my dreams, I just couldn't be any happier, the perfect wedding, and then all of a sudden it just all comes apart," Ida asked.
"I, I didn't, I thought I could control it," Michael admitted. "I didn't know I was, I am an alcoholic. I didn't know about the phenomena of craving that happens when I take so much as one drop of alcohol. At the wedding? I had a glass of champagne. And it just snowballed from there."
Two and a half hours later, William, Michael, and Ida sat. They sat. And waited. At six forty one a.m., Ida left briefly and both William and Michael agreed, she was one beautiful woman.
"You get another chance with that? Hold on. Better hold on with both hands, Buddy," William advised.
"Plan to," Michael agreed.
Thirty minutes later, Ida bustled in, carrying three cups and three bags from Zydeco Coffee.
"And that. That's why I love you," Michael laughed at the pleased expression on Ida's face.
His declaration made her satisfied smile widen.
"What is this?" William asked.
"Huh?" both Ida and Michael asked.
"Mm! Damn, that's a good cup of coffee!" William said.
"Oh! I'm sorry. Y'all can't have that up here. I'm going have confiscate them doughnuts, hear?" a nurse said, seeing the purple, green and gold lettering on the bags.
"Be a fight on your hands too, sister," Ida smiled.
"Seriously, Mr. Reffels, you've not heard of Zydeco Coffee?" Michael asked.
"Told you, call me William. Yeah, I've seen them signs," William said.
"Your Marty owns half of it," Ida informed the man.
"She what?" William gasped, almost spitting out the bite of beignet.
While William was digesting the fact that his 'irresponsible pregnant high school drop-out' daughter was actually half-owner in a successful business, Honey and Marty were sobbing in relief, in joy. They looked down at the scrunched up bundle in Marty's arms and marveled.
"It's a boy," Marty said.
"It's a boy," Honey agreed.
Then Honey grew fearful. Her green eyes looked into Marty's blue eyes.
"Marty, what are we going do. What we know about boys, huh?" Honey asked.
"What you going do is go tell your daddy he a grandpa," Marty said.
"Ida!" Honey squealed, seeing her step-mother waiting in the hall.
"Honey!" Ida squealed, getting to her feet.
The two women hugged. Ida playfully tugged at the cap Honey wore.
"Look like a doctor," Ida teased.
"William Michael Fullilove-Reffels," Honey said. "Seven pounds, three ounces, twenty inches, all ten fingers and all ten toes."
"It's a boy?" Michael said, getting to his feet.
"It's a boy?" William asked.
"Daddy, I don't know, Marty and me? What we know 'bout boys?" Honey asked her father.
"I do, I know about boys," William said. "Me and Michael? We'll take that boy out, show him how fish and hunt and scratch."
"Well, someone's going have show Michael how do all that stuff," Ida laughed.
Ida moved back into the Fullilove home, to 'help take care of the baby.' She slept in what had been Honey's room before Honey and Marty began dating.
Two weeks into her staying in the Fullilove home, she stripped off her clothes, padded across the hall and slipped into her husband's bed. Neither Ida nor Michael said anything as they joined together.
William went out, bought a football, a baseball, and a radio controlled NASCAR model car for his grandson. He began to make a habit of stopping by the Fullilove home on his way home from work.
Honey returned to work two weeks after the birth of Willie. At three months, Marty approached Honey with the idea of finding a day-care center; she was going out of her mind just sitting in the basement, waiting on her lover to come home.
"Uh, really?" Ida shrilled. "A day care? Uh, what am I? Oh, that's right, I'm just the baby's grandmother, that's all."
"But Ida, you already doing too much," Honey said.
"Michael! Come talk some sense into your daughter!" Ida screamed up the stairs.
"I'll try, but you know I haven't had much luck with that," Michael agreed, trotting down the stairs.
*.*
The Thursday night that Michael was to pick up his one year chip, Ida kissed him softly and told him she was proud of him. Then she showed him the pee stick with the little plus sign.
"A, you, you're..." Michael stammered.
"Uh huh, Daddy," Ida giggled. "We're pregnant."
Downstairs, Honey and Marty were showering off a day's work. They were planning to go with Ida and Michael to the Chapel AA meeting, to watch Michael get his one year chip. Even though the air-conditioning was running at full blast, they showered with the door of the bathroom open, in case Willie woke from his nap.
"Oops, damn, dropped that soap again," Marty teased, bending over, bracing her hands against the shower wall.
"Damn, here, I help you find it," Honey said, lining her hard cock with Marty's splayed pussy.
"Man!" Marty grunted as Honey's fat cock filled her.
"What you think Ida and Daddy going say we tell them you pregnant again?" Honey groaned as she pistoned in and out of her lover's wet pussy.
THE END.
**Author's Note: I write these stories for my pleasure; I post them here for your enjoyment.
I thank you sincerely for reading my stories. I especially thank those that leave comments, good and bad. And those that take the time to rate my stories.
I do read comments. I do not, however, read emails. Of the few that I had read in the past, most were hateful, hurtful messages. So, now, I simply delete them without reading them. You have any comments to make? Leave them here so that we can all enjoy your words.
Dr. Gabriel Ubelhauser is a character from 'Lipstick Prints on the Window' in the Incest/Taboo category.
Have a sweet day.
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Moonlight sifted through the trees, entered through the closed window and settled on her pillow and hair. Her Auburn locks glistened and reflected the moonbeams like a thousand strands of burgundy ribbon. Her complexion shimmered as her olive skin picked up the highlights. She squirmed in her bed as she dreamed of the events of the evening and a subtle Mona Lisa smile possessed her lips. A moan of satisfaction and delight escaped her. She shuddered slightly and sank back into her slumber.
She had the mind of a philosopher, the heart of a poet, the hands of a surgeon, the voice of an angel and the laughter of innocence. Her body was an exquisite work of art that rivaled the work of Michelangelo and DaVinci. Her workout regimen maintained her figure as toned, fit and firm. She was exquisite on every level from her tanned olive skin to her deep blue eyes that would entrance any man with a pulse.
Her marriage was an "arrangement". It was not much more than a business agreement. His name was Rob. He provided for her financially and she in turn was his trophy wife whenever an occasion warranted her presence on his arm. His family, along with hers, thought they were a happy and ideal couple. Twelve years they had been together. The last ten years they had maintained the public appearance of propriety and marital bliss while the reality was not even close. In theory the "agreement" afforded each equal opportunity to explore other avenues for sexual fulfillment Reality again differed from the theory. Out of mutual respect they maintained a "don't ask, don't tell" attitude.
She knew of at least two of his liaisons. He had many more, the knowledge to which she was not privy. His late "work" nights at the office, overnight business trips and Saturdays "helping" friends, playing golf and playing poker she accepted as legitimate; and some were. She however was not afforded such opportunities. In typical male double standard fashion, his jealousy prevented her from being so free. She stayed with him partially out of a sense of obligation. He had taken her from relegated poverty and abuse and gave her an opportunity for a better life. The other reason she stayed with him was because it maintained a relationship within her comfort zone. They had many common interests and their lifestyle, while not opulent, was at least comfortable. They had a house about 20 miles from the city in a small semi-rural community. It sat on 5 acres of land and was adjacent to a State Park, Arboretum and Golf Course.
She worked close to the city as a marketing designer and she drew her clients from both the city as well as the farm community.
Her work constantly put her in position to meet many possible candidates for a romantic interlude or sexual encounter. Her beauty was such that she attracted an endless list of invitations to stray. Temptations abounded.
She had desire, passion and the body of a goddess. She had suitors. What she lacked was opportunity and the right candidate. Although men swarmed her like bees to honey, she had yet to meet one that she deemed worth the risk. Her standards were not just physical in nature. The one to whom she would succumb would need to earn that right. Her chosen one would need to be of superior intellect with a sense of humor and a passion for life and her. Plus he would need to understand and share her particular and unusual erotic interests while respecting the complexity of her relationship with Rob.
The one need Rob could not fulfill was her deepest and most intimate desire. She needed to feel dominated, physically, emotionally and intellectually. Rob was a nice guy. He was physically attractive, strong and fit but he was emotionally dependent and intellectually not her equal much less her master.
...
The music was slow and sultry. It was a combination of Jazz, Blues and Cajun Zydeco. The air was still and heavy with humidity and the undertone scent of steaming sexuality. Men and women had crowded the place earlier seeking their "hookup" for the night. The lights were low and cast a reddish glow on the entire room. A handful of patrons remained. They made up two groups, those couldn't "get lucky" and those who were only interested in drinking. He belonged to the latter.
He sat at the end of the bar watching the door, reminiscing and anticipating their next encounter.
He was obviously older than her but exactly how much she couldn't determine with any degree of certainty. She assumed he was older than he appeared. His smile was vibrant and youthful. His voice was deep, comforting and reassuring with a strong and commanding quality. His salt and pepper hair and somewhat rugged features indicated that he was a man of experience with a sophisticated and worldly air about him. His eyes were dark and penetrating yet kind and gentle. It was as if he could look inside her soul. His gaze unnerved her in some way.
Physically he was not tall in stature but was still significantly taller than her 5'4" frame. He was not thin but neither was he grotesquely obese. His arms were powerful and easily able to engulf and control her. His hands were proportionate to his body but they had a sensual quality about them that she could neither identify nor escape. She knew instinctively that he could grasp her arm and firmly guide her anywhere and she would comply. He may be the one...the one that she sought to dominate and control her. The one she needed to free that aching submissive inside her.
...
They met through her work. He was a prospective client who answered a mailed marketing piece she had designed. The chemistry was obvious and the passion was palpable as it permeated the air. There was something about him she had not encountered before, a confidence that bordered on arrogance... an intellectual and sexual presence that was both enticing and intimidating and combined with a mysterious nature that was itself intriguing and compelling.
As she went through her product presentation, something she had done hundreds of times before, he listened intently and followed with questions that conveyed his wit, intellect and interest in her. He was not too blatantly obvious in his approach but his mild lack of subtlety belied his intent and desire.
He asked her to join him for lunch and she agreed. What followed over the next few months was a series of daily emails, text messages and phone calls. She could not resist involvement with him. He demanded that she keep in communication with him. He knew she was married and yet he persisted. She somehow found his tenacity attractive. The more they spoke the more she revealed about her "secret" desires. He in turn listened and rewarded her revelations with his own projected fantasies of dominance, submission and bondage. He told her of his journey through darkness... his own marital blunders... his struggle to find the truth within himself... his joy and delight at finally finding someone who understood and shared his desires. But alas, had it been too little too late?
She confided her submissive desires and her fantasies of being exposed publically and used by anyone who came near. As she spoke, she felt her own juices begin to flow and the tightness in her loins growing as the opportunity to finally share her secret desire with a like mind was overtaking her.
She wanted to feel his weight pressing down on her. She wanted his lips to demand her surrender. She wanted his arms to hold her in a grip she could not escape. She wanted him to take her despite any resistance she might give.
They were a match made in heaven. There were only two problems... fate had placed them in generational spaces the differences of which were not easily overcome and then she had her marriage to Rob. Sweet Rob, who had been so good to her... Sweet Rob with whom her economic status was entangled... Dear sweet Rob with whom she had a co-dependent relationship ... Sweet Rob for whom she felt gratitude and affection and with whom she shared many common interests except that ONE that was most important, most compelling to her. She was caught in a trap of her own making. She was bound by obligation and pragmatic necessity but not by desire and passion. She felt warmth, gratitude and genuine affection for Rob but she would never feel the desire, passion and satisfaction she so craved. They would have a companionate love but never would they be soul mates. Never would she feel that overwhelming, all engulfing smallness of being totally possessed obsessed and dominated by him. This he was a need he was incapable of fulfilling.
After months of frustrated desire and sexual tension finally there was opportunity. She told him that Rob was going out of town on business the next week. He thought finally they could be together. But she told him that would not be possible. Her car was going to be in the shop for repairs so she had no way to get to him and her nosy neighbor across the road fancied herself the rural equivalent of a "blockwatch" Captain. She would surely see a strange car in the drive and mention it to Rob. He was devastated. For a moment his spirit soared with the thought of holding her, using her and possessing her. Then, just as quickly, his spirits were dashed like a wave crashing against a rocky shore.
The day of Rob's departure came and went without incident. The next day he was bursting with anticipation. They spoke during the day as usual and he mentioned nothing of his plans for that night. She told him Rob would be gone for two more days but she was still afraid to act on her desire to be with him.
Sunset was scheduled for 8:29 p.m. however because of the house's position in the valley with a small ridge to the West. The locals affectionately called the ridge "mountains" but they were more akin to large knolls. However they did afford an early interruption in the sunlight and caused dusk to begin an hour earlier than the rest of the surrounding area.
At 9:00 p.m. he rolled up on an access road and positioned his car behind a grove of trees a half mile from the house and around a curve well out of sight of the "blockwatch" Nazi. Dusk had given way to darkness and he sat patiently in his car texting her while he waited but never giving a hint of his plan. To help ensure his success he had sent a bottle of her favorite beverage to her office by courier. In her texts she had thanked him and told him how she had begun to indulge herself earlier and was now fading with the evening light. Fifteen more minutes she would be asleep. At 9:40 p.m. he left his car and began the overland trek across the harvested field of Milo and corn. He made his way around the back of the house to the first floor bedroom window that he knew she always left open while she slept. With care and stealth he climbed through the open window and quietly removed his boots and trousers and emptied the small duffle he had carried with him. It contained the "toys" they had so often discussed but had not had an opportunity to use. There were leather cuffs, satin rope and binding tape along with Ben Wa Balls, massage oils and a vibrator.
He looked at her lying on the bed. The moonlight cast mysterious yet erotic shadows across the room and illuminated her in such a way that she virtually glowed before him. She was wearing an oversized sleep shirt that had moved up her thigh enough to reveal the absence of any undergarments. The smooth and toned roundness of her bare bottom was exposed to him. He had not seen her nude form before this moment. Months of anticipation bore down on him. His excitement was such that he could barely contain himself. He knew that he must regain his composure and exercise control.
He resumed his prepared ritual. This scenario had been reiterated in his mind 24 hours a day for the past two weeks. It had been just short of an obsession that was now about to become a reality.
With the care, precision and the focus of a surgeon he took each of her hands and delicately placed a leather cuff on them carefully weaving the chain that joined them through the open headboard of the bed.
Next he moved with great stealth to the foot of the bed. He took her left ankle and with tenderness and grace he slipped the loop of a satin rope over her foot and tightened it loosely around her ankle. He then slipped the other end of the rope over the post at the foot of the bed.
He repeated the process with her right ankle and foot. She had been lying on her left side with her right leg bent slightly. The attachment of the rope on her right ankle to the opposite bedpost caused her to roll her entire body to the right. She was now on her back... hands shackled above her head and ankles tied to the bedposts in a spread eagle fashion. He took the scissors from his back pocket and began to cut the nightshirt up the middle.
He only had a second to enjoy the vision before him... her breasts ample and firm with nipples at full attention from the breeze wafting through the room... the gentle mound of her womanhood glistened and lay exposed and shaved cleanly... her smooth, flawless olive skin catching the moonbeams and turning each into an exotic and erotic flicker of sensuality. He had finished all but the last element of the nightshirt, the neckline. He was momentarily breathless as he tried to memorize each line and curve of this goddess before him. At that second, she awoke startled and jerked her body to move away.
Her sudden movement caused him to drop the scissors. They fell to the floor out of his reach. He quickly grabbed the sharpened hunting knife ha had placed on the bedside table and moved it toward her throat. She panicked and started to scream. He placed his right hand over her mouth and with the knife in his left hand he severed the last remaining entanglement of her nightshirt at the neckline.
The mask he had donned earlier still concealed his identity to her. She was at once terrified and aroused. The perceived danger of the moment... the restraints on her arms and legs and this apparent stranger with weapon in hand was about to assault her. The imagery... the circumstances and her particular secret desires all came together to provide a perfect storm of eroticism for her. She couldn't help it. Her juices were flowing. Suddenly her pussy was dripping wet. The desire in her was off the scale. She had never felt so aroused in her life.
She was totally helpless. Her life was in his hands. She was nothing but a vessel for his amusement, for his pleasure, for his taking. It was as though she were suddenly cast into space. She was floating in an absolute vacuum with the immensity of the universe surrounding her and swallowing her as her insignificance became a stark and erotic reality to her.
Whoever he was, she was his. She was completely and inescapably at his mercy. Orgasmic waves began to race through her body even before he touched her. There was only one element missing from this near perfect experience for her.
He stepped back to once again admire both his work and her awesome beauty. For several minutes he watched as she writhed against the restraints. He slowly moved his eyes up and down her body. His posturing was both reactive and with intent. The anticipation of this moment along with her beauty was such that he stood in mesmerized fixation upon her. The purpose of his inaction was intended to intensify and solidify his domination of her. Now she was his... mind and body and soul. The bond was nearly complete. Only one thing remained to be done.
He took the oils he had brought and began to rub them into her soft and supple skin, all over her body. He massaged the erect nipples, tweaking each as he did and bending over to take them in his mouth both sucking and nipping with his teeth. He ran his hands up and down her legs taking special care to brush his hands against her pulsing mound. She was jerking with spasms of pleasure. Orgasm after orgasm propelled her deeper into her tiny world.
His mouth began to place erotic kisses at her feet. He moved with mouth and tongue up her leg to her thighs. He paused to take in the scent of her. This along with her subjugation to him further aroused him. His member stood erect and awaited its fulfillment. His mouth continued to work. His tongue traced each contour of her labia... sought out her hooded queen and began an erotic oral assault that drove her to the edge of her sensual limits.
He now moved atop her. He sat astride her body with his cock between her perfect breasts. He grabbed her hair and with a single motion pulled her head down and moved his cock to her face. Her mouth opened in willing compliance and he began to move his thick hard shaft in and out of her mouth as she sucked obediently and steadily. He would move several strokes and then stop to allow her to suck more deeply. Her tongue expertly worked the underside of his penis as her mouth became a welcoming warm asylum for his manhood.
He withdrew lest he cum too soon. He moved between her legs, placing each over his shoulders. Then positioned as though he were about to perform a military pushup, he brought his mouth to hers and they locked in a deep, powerful and passionate kiss. At the same time his engorged cock filled her and she gasped with stunned joy and pleasure at the sensation. Now he was ready to complete the ecstasy.
The one element that she knew was missing... the desire for which she had not allowed herself to hope... the piece that would complete this near perfect experience...
As he towered above her naked form and penetrated her shell and dominated her totally, he removed the mask.
Her moment was complete. It was Him. It was he to whom she wanted to belong. The orgasms she had already experienced paled in comparison to the joy, passion and sense of completeness she now experienced. His movement within her now reached a frenzied and nearly frantic pace. He drove deep and hard into her. Wave after wave shuttered through her entire body. She was screaming uncontrollably as he plunged deeper and harder and filled her. Then he let out a loud yell of his own as he screamed at her: "NOW! YOU ARE MINE!"
She felt the explosion of semen within her... the throbbing pulses of his thick cock in spasmodic surrender of his seed. This took her over the edge. She was now in total erotic splendor. Shackled, dominated, exposed and bound in serenity she had never before experienced.
...
He slipped the rope from her ankles, unstrapped the cuffs and collapsed beside her. She lay in the protective comfort of his arms for several hours as each slipped into a post coital slumber that was peaceful and deep.
As the first beams of sunlight broke the horizon, he awoke. He again stared at her for long moments. He kissed her forehead, got up from the bed, dressed and gathered the items to his duffle. He moved to the bedside and cupped her face in his hands. As she opened her eyes, he placed his mouth on hers and gave her a deep and sensual kiss, not knowing when, or if, they would ever have this opportunity again.
He slipped out the window as he had entered and made his way across the fields to his car.
That evening he sat alone in the bar staring at the door reminiscing and anticipating their next encounter unsure as to if and when it would occur...the music was a soulful blend of jazz, blues and Southern Zydeco.
|
Zygurd peered up over the arm of his lieutenant as the lances passed... his breath low but ragged as he kept concealed under the corpses. His face was caked with blood and sweat and dirt and all the gruesome bits that remained of his fallen comrades. His body lay flat against the ground , a jagged rock digging into the bottom of his ribcage, but he did not mind or care so much about that. His body had experienced, and currently was experiencing much greater discomfort. He stared out of the bodies, peering through the armpit of his fallen Orcish brother in arms, as the pale faced lances scoured the area for signs of life.
It had been hours before... and he could remember the last time he'd seen his brothers alive... back near the base of the hill, in the woods where they made camp last evening. He had been strapping his boots up when Bargos and Lotar found him. Zygurd looked up at the two other Orcs with a nod of consideration.
"What is it?" he'd said offhandedly, banding off the boots and tying the knot off.
"Levtenan' come by, tell us you got the only good rubstone." Bargos said, brushing a wasp from his bare shoulder. The wasp however, did not yield and simply dug it's barb into him. Bargos merely gave an indifferent grunt, killed the buzzing insect and began picking the stinger of the callous it was buried in. Zygurd nodded, reaching for his whetstone to his companions. They'd sat down next to him on either side, taking turns with the stone and running I down the length of their axe heads and spear points.
"What news from the Levtenant?" Zygurd had inquired. Bargos shrugged.
"Bad shit going down today... the Imperials are marching towards the Fynne River... they ran into clan Grundyll last night while they were scouting around... bad scrap... take thirty.... Fo'ty maybe ... small fight.. But the humans routed... they know we're here and are going to try and shake out our ambush... like rattlin' birds outa der bush. " Bargos said, giving his axe a few good strokes and handing the stone off to Lotar. Zygurd looked back towards where the Lieutenant stood on post , peering into the surrounding woods.
"What word of Reinforcements then?" Zygurd asked. This time it had been Lotar who'd answered.
"A few pale skin humans... barbarians from the marshes and the woods... Picts mostly.... A few Highland an' Vanir but mostly Picts." Lotar muttered. "That's about it though... the goblins are tied up in a fuck over on the other side of the mountains...No one wants to get involved wit dem Imperials..."
"Picts aren't that bad." Zygard replied. "Scrappy and they know how to fight in the woods...they wont be too bad as long as they can follow fuckin' orders...they got no love of Imperials."
"They're brash and wild... " Bargos had grumbled.
"So are we... when y' get down to it."
"Got a point... " Bargos laughed. "But do that again and I clout your fuckin' nose off . "
They had laughed and passed the stone back to Zygurd who glanced back at the Lieutenant.
And here he was once again staring at the Lieutenant, his now dead left arm covering Zygurd's gaze as he watched the Imperial Lancers move away. Zygurd got up once they were out of sight and ran at a crouch back towards the tree line, his hand clutched to his shoulder as he struggled through the underbrush. He had made it... the flight from the battlefield was sure to have been seen... but he made it in one piece.
Or so he'd thought.
As soon as he stepped foot past the tree line he heard a sharp whistling. He turned in time to spot the arrow as it embedded itself in a nearby tree. He turned and saw them now, a small band of them descending from the hill after him, aided by a quiet hail of arrows from their archers. Zygurd ducked through the brush as the arrows hissed through the air after him, hitting logs and tree stumps with sickening 'thunk" sounds. He ran, his feet flailing about as he staggered through the mud and brush until he made his way to one of the shallow creeks that ran through he forest. He flopped down in the water, dropping down into the ditch it had cut through the ground over centuries, and lay down in the mud near the creek bank. He lay there for some time, hiding behind the ridge of the creek bank and waiting for the sounding approach of feet. He peered up over the ridge and looked across the forest floor and the fallen leaves about him. He could only see vague figures approaching through the forest. He looked around for signs of escape... that was when he saw her.
She was crouched behind one of the trees; her hand gripping a mace, an empire made mace. She was not of their faction though, Zygurd could tell she was one of the barbarians that had come to their aid. Much good they had done. He watched her as she waited for them to approach... peering venomously out of her dark locks of tangled hair. Her face was painted with the tattoos of her clan, her body clad in strips of metal pieced together with leather and fur... made more for mobility than for protection. She was fierce, like a cornered animal. Zygurd ducked back down under the ridge and found his curved hunting knife... the only weapon he had on his person.
He concentrated... forgetting now his wounded shoulder and how the blood was caking with the sweat to form a bitter scab where the sword had bit him. He forgot the pain and the sorrow and the agony that surged through his body and found the warrior buried within the raw emotion that made up his conscious mind. He clenched his teeth, his gaze becoming cold and his eyes loosing emotion bit by bit... He found the killer, and the hunter and the fighter and became him, feeling that mentality overcome him... He stood up and saw the exposed backs of the Human soldiers.... And he saw the angry frightened grimace of the woman as she leapt from her cover, seizing one by the neck.
Zygurd watched as she moved, angry, scared, vicious... sloppy. She was not fighting as a soldier, but as a caged animal fighting at the bars of her cell. The men reacted quickly.. But not nearly quickly enough... One went down... there was a growl... a guttural moan of pain a crunch and a scuffle. Zygurd could not see clearly who was winning and who as being hurt where... it was gruesome and dirty... the way people really fought. He climbed out of the riverbed and moved in as the iron shirted men began to draw their weapons on the woman... She stared up with wild eyes as they readied themselves and began to move in.
Perhaps in a different world they would have made an attempt to kill her... in a different world they would have succeeded. But they never made it past the raising of their blades. The woman could see nothing of their deaths but the sudden shocked look, a jerking of the body and a small steel point protruding from one of their chests. Zygurd drew his knife from the man's back and threw him to the ground to die on his back. With the other he had seized him by the neck and dug his sharp thumbnail into the vein below his chin... causing the man to cringe in pain. Zygurd slid his dagger home into the man's stomach, feeling the flesh part and the blood spill down the hilt of the blade as the man's eyes went wide and terrified. The Orc watched, feeling no remorse or sympathy for the man as he twisted the blade and felt the muscles in his stomach contract, vainly trying to stop the further agony of his wound. Zygurd looked on... cold ... unfeeling. He withdrew the dagger letting the man slump to the forest floor like a sack of potatoes, then curl up, clutching his abdomen and shuddering violently, spitting up blood and breathing heavily. The Orc knelt now and slowly crushed the human's throat.... And held his hand there , thumb on the jugular vein.... Slowly feeling the life leave him bit by bit as he died in his hand....
It all came back in a rush... he felt tired... drained from the exertion and from the brief reminder of just how much of his innocence had been lost up until that point. He sat there on his knees... taking a moment to breathe and to gaze upwards. The canopy lay above him... shafts of pure golden edged white light breaking through the foliage and casting it's purity in halos on the dark forest floor. All around these pools of light sat.... save for that spot where Zygurd sat with the bodies of two of the pale faced men. A moment of reflection now overtook him. They were men... with families and lives and hopes and dreams... and they were dead now. He had killed them. Such things entered the minds of every Orc, following the battle... it was a philosophy of compassion to those who suffered the burden of life and the agony of death along side you. They fought well... and died honorably... and in the end it was all he could say for them.
Zygurd bowed his head in Respect... but his thoughts were soon roused by the presence of the woman beside him. Zygurd turned to her and looked her over. Palefaced, creamy skinned like the men he'd killed... a grim tattered woman but one who returned his deep respectful gaze with one of her own. Zygurd stood and looked towards the retreat, remembering his orders. Should the line rout, they would regroup at the far edge of the forest. He looked down at the barbarian woman and helped her to her feet.
She said something, it was odd and foreign and smacked of that strange language the other humans spoke. Yet it held it's own dark and rich timbres that his own language held. Zygurd watched her speak, her voice sounding grateful. He shook his head.
"I don't... understand." He replied.
The woman said another thing. Zygurd simply turned back to the way he was headed. It would be a long trek and an ally would be good to have. He simply beckoned her to follow. This, was a gesture they both could understand.
Night wore on... and Zygurd's vision began to sharpen as he led the way through the forest, tree by tree with the woman following behind him. She now carried one of the iron-shirt's swords and had given Zygurd the other. They did not speak as they walked, there was no use for it. Yet Zygurd noticed as they marched, that bit by bit the woman became less alert, and her body slumped. She was becoming tired, Zygurd could tell, even though she made no announcement of the fact. He turned towards her, looking her over, she made an attempt to straighten up, but she was swaying ever so slightly. Zygurd nodded and found a good tree for them to sleep under, figuring she might get the jist of his intentions if he started to make camp for the night.
She followed quietly and helped him clear the leaves away and gather kindling for a campfire, they did this wordlessly and he pointed out the spot for them to lay it down...
Before long they were sitting, The woman curled up on her own as Zygurd shed his mail Hauberk and his fur mantle, giving himself few moments to stretch without the added weight. From there he went about digging out the food he'd saved from the night prior... the only thing close to field rations he could manage. He sat down and unfolded the bit of cloth that had a few flattened bannocks, a handful of dry berries and a few smoked fish. He started on the bannocks first, taking a bite out of one of the dry pieces of coarse bread.
He glanced over at the woman again, she had been eyeing the food but turned her head away once Zygurd looked over at her. He blinked a few times and sighed. Placing the cloth down on the ground between them and holding out one of the bannocks to her. There was a moment of reluctance... she held her hand out, but did not open her fingers to take it... Zygurd offered it again... she took it this time eating quietly on the morsel as the two of them turned their gaze once again to the fire.
The moments passed... the two of them ate frugally and left enough of the food to see them through another night. Having finished their dinner they sat in silence... eyes on the flames. Then a moment towards each other. Zygurd felt that he needed to say something... anything would have helped ease the anxiety between them. So he said at last
"My name... Is Zygurd."
This he said very slowly, holding his hand out and gesturing towards himself.
"It means, he who guards the victory...."
And once more.
"My name, is Zygurd.."
The woman watched for a few moments and then nodded before repeating shakily.
"Sig...gurd..."
Zygurd nodded, it was close enough... her accent was strange.
"Yes. Zygurd."
"Sigurd....
Zygurd nodded his approval and sat back waiting to see her reply. She pointed to her chest and spoke clearly.
'Ilga"
Zygurd nodded and repeated the name "Ylga..."
Ilga nodded and then pointed to the dark wound on his shoulder. She asked now something in her language, more words that held no meaning to Zygurd. She seemed to point with urgency towards his wound... and said something now, a word... he assumed it must have meant wound or hurt or something of the sort.
The orc raised an eyebrow and shook his head.
"It's fine. Don't worry." he said, only capable of assuming her meanings.
The woman did not cease though and bade him to come over and sit by her. Zygurd did so, but with reluctance. He sat down and peeled his tunic off, revealing his musclebound figure, cased in greenish grey flesh. He cast his gaze downward as she drew forth her waterskin and poured a bit onto a bit of cloth tartan cloth. She began to clean and wash away the wound, her hands warm and careful on the bruised and damaged flesh. He could imagine how she must have been outside of battle... maybe a mother or a wife or something... he wasn't sure. He was sure that this wild, armor clad and war painted woman was as much a creature of ferocity as she was a creature of compassion. He sat patiently and let her clean and dress his wound. Once done she turned to him and let him take a look. He nodded approvingly.
"Thank you.." he said quietly and regarded her strange reply as a "you're welcome."
They sat once more, the firelight casting it's glow as the eerie silence crept over them.
The sky was still dark when a rustling sound roused the Orc awake. His eyes popped open and he rubbed them, getting the blur to go away and let him see clearly in the darkness again. His eyes peered around, first left, then right... then off in the distance.
Again the rustling sound, footsteps approaching, pressing forwards past them... then voices. Strange ones... human ones. Ilga awoke now, only not seeing through the inky blackness as her companion could. Zygurd watched the shadowy figures move around in the darkness ... though as they moved through his field of vision he could not see their features, which were obscured by soft light from their torches. They shouted louder and louder, increasing in urgency... he could only make out a few words in their tongue... most recognizable was the word enemy. Zygurd looked down at Ilga, struggling against his arm as if wanting to scatter and hide.... Zygurd kept his grip on her strong and wrapped his hand over her mouth, urging her to silence. She struggled again for a few moments before stopping, her breath slowing to an even pace as more of the Ironshirt humans scrounged around trough the brush. With his back to the shadows of the tree he waited, listening intently and keeping his eyes closed... he couldn't bear for the life of him to have to fight off this many... just the two of them. He could feel her form now, even through the armor, soft and strong all at once.
In silent fear they sat quiet as the footsteps rose to a peak... then scattered... then pulled together... then faded off... back towards the human lines. Once they were gone Zygurd could breath easier again and as he removed his hand from her trembling mouth. For a few more moments they sat there in the strange silence that followed .
Zygurd stood and peered around each corner of the tree.... He sniffed the air....
Nothing, they had left.
He sat back down and ran a hand through his hair before burying his face in his palms for a moment to get a grip on his senses. That was when he felt her hand on his knee. He looked over to her and saw a sort of grateful, warm look in her eyes.
"Thank you..." she said, her accent strange but he could make out the words fairly clearly. He nodded and slumped back against the tree, guiding her once more to the soft crux of shoulder to rest her head, this time she wrapped her hands up around his neck and pulled herself closer to him, using the body heat of the mighty Orc for warmth as the night dragged on. Zygurd drifted off to sleep once more.
------------
"Lookit 'em..." Bargos muttered as they saw the picts shuffle up to assume ranks at the far flank of the field. ... ragged looking, clad in their rough hewn cottons and tartans... armored in lamellar and chain mail and carrying their curved spear tips unlike the very sharp and angular spears the orcs carried. Bargos shook his head. "They're right short fuckers... how'd you expec' em hold their line against the chargers?"
The Leiutenant regarded Bargos with a snarl. "We're not here to ask stupid questions like that you shit... 's wot we got and we're going to damn well make do. So I don't wanna hear nufink outa yer shit-traps about it. Understood trooper?" Bargos glanced up at the Lieutenant and nodded.
"Understood.... I'm jest wonderin' why we're puttin such faith in 'em... "
"I thought I just got done explaining, Bargos..." The lieutenant reared...
"I'm JEST SAYIN'..."
A hand gripped Bargos by the elbow and pulled him back.
"Leave the Levtenant alone Bargos...." Zygurd snapped "You're wasting your breath asking stupid questions like 'at.... Just get back in formation and do as yer told and you might live to see tomorrow."
Bargos cast Zygurd's hand away and shuffled back into line with his comrades. Lotar snickered at watching Bargos getting put back into place, This however was met with a sharp elbow to the gut... which shut Lotar up immediately. The moved on... past the picts as they assembled, their leaders and lieutenants talking to the orc commanders. Zygurd shook his head and decided not to dwell on his doubts on their abilities and hefted his long handled great axe onto his shoulder. He looked around at his linemates...there they were, the fifteenth Huscarl regiment out of Nurdhim... the heavy infantry...Axes, Broad Swords, Maces, Falchions... It was their task to charge in as footmen to take down the enemy spearmen and tie up the infantry so the wolf riders could flank from the south...... To the left of them marched the Lances... poorer warriors who were given spears and taught to fight in a tight phalanx and drive off the cavalry... and to the right of them the Slingers.... A loose group of ragged and wiry looking orcs that the warlords had taken from the hunting and fishing villages near the dark forest. Hunters most of them, armed with javelins, and the crude but highly effective composite bows made by the sylvan orcs. Zygurd marched and moved with the rest of his squad, giving the Picts one last final glance before turning his head forward and fixing his skullcap down on his head securely. Through the thick of them he could remember that one dark haired woman with the fur and the tattoos... that bold and strong sort of look to her.
-----
They reached the ford that day at about noon... the river ran shallow and it was to cross on foot through the stream, taking foot on the gravel beds. But there would be none of this for the two of them.... For the river meant a wide open space where they could be easily spotted by the patrols. So Zygurd led Ilga down along the riverbank, keeping to the tree line. A short march found them to the waterfall that fed the stream and kept it flowing southward.
The waterfall provided a calm place for them to rest for a while. Zygurd sat down on one of the great rocks that sat over the basin of the waterfall. With a groan he stretched out on his back for a moment, feeling his back pop here and there. He glanced over at Ilga who nodded, setting her weapon down and undressing before him. Zygurd watched her shed her clothes and then turned his gaze to the woods as Ilsa casually strode past him to take a dip in the waterfall. She was pretty... Zygurd noted, rather unfazed by her nudity, that she was rather good looking.
He sat still... watching the waters flow southward from the basin in which Ilga bathed quietly. Zygurd contemplated once again, as warriors do, the connectivity of the world from that point. That water had cascaded down Ilga's body... and in that respect, a tiny bit of Ilga flowed perpetually through the world... And that perhaps they had come in contact before in this way... His thoughts dwelt there, more and more on Ilga.
He noticed now a silence. An odd one that seemed pervasive through the clamor of the cascade behind him.
Zygurd stood wandering over to where Ilga bathed.... And he saw them...A pair of figures... groping through the water for purchase... muffled cries, drowned out by the waterfall. Zygurd could see them. Men of the imperial muster...
He did not tarry for a moment to see what they were doing, he assumed the worst for Ilga who struggled valiantly between them. A single cry suddenly pierced the waterfall as Ilga got her mouth free for a fleeting moment.
"Sigurd...!"
And like a wolf he was upon them, a snarling vicious beast, Wielding his stolen blade in a vicious metal arc.
It was over quickly... Zygurd fell to his hands and knees, gasping for air through the battle-haze, his body shivering from the shock of returning to reality in such a short period of time. Their bodies lay dead... soaked corpses lying motionless in the water.
He felt his mind calm as he felt a hand on his back...
Zygurd looked up at the naked woman. He let out another gasp for air and stood up as she hauled him to his feet. Quietly she led him back to the rock where he had sat before and laid him on his back... She sat next to him, placing a hand to his heart as he let his chest heave, in and out with his breaths. She then ran her hand to his cheek and curled her hand in the thick forelock of hair. Then softly kissed him on the crease between his eyebrows. Zygurd's body seemed to relax instantly.
"Ilga.... " he said softly... wanting to say more but unsure how to put it into human words. With a hand back on his chest she laid herself down next to him and rested her head on his shoulder.
For so many moments they lay like that, Ilga drying her wet body in the afternoon sun before putting her clothes back on. By an by zygurd sat up... and, seeing that there was no longer solace to be had here, they continued on into the woods once more.
The wore on and the darkness once more gave clarity to Zygurd's eyes as they trekked through the underbrush. Behind him he could hear the soft footfalls of Ilga who followed the sound of his own steps through the darkness. There was a full moon that night, but unfortunately the heavy canopy of the trees robbed them of that luxury. Through the darkness, zygurd became their guide, his feet sure on the ground beneath their feet while Ilga stumbled every so often.
Although they walked in silence, Zygurd could not help but glance back at her from moment to moment. She seemed to be trying to look back at him... her eyes unable to see clearly through the blackness and trying to make out his features. He could not tell for certain but he had a feeling that she must be trying to admire him in some regard. Of course, that, he knew was a foolish notion.... Perhaps she was just trying to get a better glimpse of the clearing that loomed in the distance where the moonlight from above managed to light the forest floor.
Zygurd stopped rather suddenly, hearing a soft ruckus arise from behind him as Ilga's foot found a tree root and she stumbled forward. Zygurd turned, catching her by the shoulders and putting her back on her feet. She tottered a bit and reached out for him...his hand found hers and clutched it tightly... relishing that contact for a brief moment. She was warm to the touch. He pulled her forwards towards him feeling her body brush against his shoulder... there was a beautiful sense of closeness in that. Zygurd could feel his heart jump in that brief instant before settling.
With a silent swallow to steady his nerves, he led her onward to the clearing.
Zygurd, even being as much of a stalwart soul as he was, wasn't prepared to witness the scene that awaited them in the clearing.
He stopped, his hands went clammy and his pulse rang in his ears. They lay in masses on the forest floor... piled up into heaps on the ground. Many of his fellow orcs strewn in the painful contortions that embodied their last moments of life. He fell to his knees.. Picking out familiar faces among them.... And some of them familiar faces that had been made obscure by horrific wounds wrought upon them by human blades. Zygurd staggered from heap to heap... taking in the carnage as best he could. True, it was no worse than the carnage of the battlefield behind him... but at least on that battlefield he was ready to experience such atrocity. Here , it was unexpected and shocking. He stood for a moment amidst it all... feeling sickness and woe churning in his stomach, but even still he kept a brave face on it. He simply stood there, his head bowed as he fought with his body and refused to let himself break down and discard his soldierly demeanor.
For the second time that day he felt the soft touch of the human woman on his shoulder. He turned and saw her there gazing up into his eyes, showing a desire to share in his sorrow with him. He couldn't speak... just let his jaw tremble as he looked back at her. In his eyes, the woman could see that fear and pain welled up. Zygurd tried valiantly to hide it but it was of no use. She wrapped her arms around his broad back and pulled herself into him resting her head on his chest and listening to the beat of his troubled heart. Zygurd was struck dumb by the gesture... unsure of what to make of it aside from the gesture of sympathy. He moved his hand out awkwardly... unsure of himself in returning the gesture... and wrapped his arm around her waist.
He wanted to cry... he wanted to scream this injustice to the gods and let them understand the woe they had inflicted upon him... but the woman seemed to silence this need altogether, suppressing his despair into soft sobs against her shoulder. He had known them, they were his friends... it was hard to say just what he had now... he felt empty inside and yet.... He felt at home here, huddled up in her arms. She took his hand pulled him towards a soft grassy spot on the edge of the clearing where they could sit and build a fire
Zygurd could do nothing but watch as she gathered up the kindling, set the twigs alight and coaxed a healthy flame out of them. She returned once more and slipped her arms around him as he sat with his back to the tree trunk. She sat there; ear once again pressed to his chest, hearing his heartbeat before reaching up to his chin to tangle her fingers in his forelock as she had done that afternoon on the rocks by the waterfall. However she did not tarry or stop here as she did before. Zygurd heard her say something in her strange language before pulling herself up to him and pressing her soft lips against his, a hand on either side of his cheeks. Dumbfounded Zygurd protested for a brief moment before sinking back, finding comfort here and feeling her drag him in deeper into herself. A soft moan escaped his lips, slipping through hers. His arms found her, he crushed her to his chest and felt himself forget everything around him for a brief yet seemingly eternal moment.
Their kiss seemed to rise in fervor... their mouths groping softly against each other wanting to come closer and closer. Her hands pressed themselves to his chest and began quietly pulling his hauberk off. She did away with his mail and his bracers and his mantle and finally tore his tunic from him to expose his bare chest. He stopped for a moment to let her do this and let her see his bare torso... laced with tattoos and scars.... Things that held significance to him... and could speak so many things to those who could read them. But they were there so that others would not have to look him over too closely to see who he was. To Ilga they held no significance, nor would they have if she could have read them. She looked and saw... green skinned as he was, that he was not so much different beneath the cloth. She smiled... not a giddy smile... but a warm and entranced smile. She lowered herself and kissed up from the short speckling of curls about his navel, up his chest to his neck where she paused to let her lips linger there.
Zygurd watched again, as she pulled away, straddling his legs. She undid her belt and did off with her tunic and armor. She sat on his legs her breasts bare, full, and presented before him. He sat up, pulling her towards him and taking one of her soft nipples into his mouth, eliciting a sharp gasp from her as he swirled his tongue around the soft puffy pink nipple... feeling it harden in his mouth. He sucked lovingly on it... kneading her nipple into a soft lump with his mouth. He felt her hands press the back of his head into her that large soft mound... she arched her back towards his sucking mouth, gasping things in her strange language. She rocked back and forth grabbing handfulls of his thick hair and feeling his tongue work on the peaks of her sensitive nipples. He alternated his efforts, first sucking one, then releasing it before letting his tongue circle her aureole before trailing it between her breasts... licking up and down there before up the other side to her other nipple and sucking it hotly into his mouth.
She fell to the side suddenly... throwing her self onto her back next to him and reaching for his breeches, rubbing her hand on the bulge that strained against the rawhide and fur. Zygurd quickly undid his belt but before he could get his breeches off she slid her hand down the front and gripped his cock... feeling the thickness in her hand. She let out a long moan and Zygurd saw her hand drift to the soft patch of hair between her legs.
Zygurd could hear a soft wet slippery sound as she moved her hand back and forth on her sex... Zigurd licked his lips and looked down at her soft womanhood, her eyes met his and she drew back a bit, sitting up and spreading her legs for him, then spreading the lips of her pussy apart for him to see. He could see that wetness glistening in the moonlight, it was flowing like a trickling waterfall...dripping down between her lush buttocks. She made a small sound that forced him to look up at her and he was startled by the sudden look of pleading. He watched as she pushed herself towards him, speaking once more in that foreign tongue...she was asking...no begging for something.
Zigurd brought his fingers to his mouth, and wet them with his saliva before slipping them along her dripping folds. She let out another low moan and keened her head back, feeling his thick finger slip within her tight silken folds . He let his digit wriggle inside her pussy and watched as she twitched and bucked her hips on his hand. She moaned out a single word, over and over again. To Zygurd it sounded much like the word "Please" or "yes" or "More"; something encouraging. He moved himself closer to her and worked his fingers in and out of her, then slipped them out and brought them to his mouth to taste her nectar. The sudden halt in pleasure drove her to fall forward onto him. Gripping his hip and his side for support as she felt her pussy cry out for more hot attention. Zygurd let the sweet flavor of her snatch linger on his tongue before slipping his fingers back in and exploring her pussy. She let out hot little gasps of pleasure her breasts rubbing against his side as she rocked back and forth on his fingers.
Zygurd could feel her trying now to find some way to take her mind off it... she let her hand wander to his bulge once more. She pushed his breeches down, finding his cock full and erect. She slowly began working it up and down, pumping him with her hand and licking her lips at the sight. Zygurd's thumb found her clitoris suddenly... small, sensitive and somewhat hidden between her folds. The sudden shock of ecstasy sent shudders down her spine and she twitched on top of him. She redoubled her efforts as he did this and seized his cock in her hand wrapping her mouth around the head and sucking hard . This was a new feeling for Zygurd and he dropped his hand from her wetness and arched his hips up to her mouth... he simply groaned... begging to feel more of her hot wet mouth around his cock. She seemed to smile and took him into her mouth running her tongue up and down the length before bobbing her head up and down and creating such a beautiful suction on him. He felt himself building to a climax.. The feeling was too intense. He tried to plead... his voice coming as short spasms of air, attempting to coax her to stop and let him recover. She seemed to understand this well enough and stopped, returning to stroking the wet shaft of his cock with her hand. She looked up at him her eyes wanting to find approval in his. He pulled her by the arm back up to him and attacked her lips with his... She let her eyes close and straddled him once more her mouth connected with his and her hand not once releasing control of his throbbing member. She rubbed the head now softly against her puss lips... feeling it and rocking her hips back and forth with it, rubbing it up and down and feeling the large swollen head part her lips just a bit.
The feeling of penetration was intense. He could see her eyes widen then squint shut as she slid herself down on him feeling his enormous length stretching the needy little hole of her pussy. She was tighter than he imagined... her muscles clamped down on his cock and put a great deal of resistance on him as he slid deep within her folds. She dripped around him... her wetness engulfing him and causing him to become slick and hard within her. She felt him slide to her furthest depth... becoming totally engulfed in her pussy and hitting her deepest parts. She let out a delighted shudder of pleasure before starting to roll her hips back and forth on him.
He could see her in the moonlight... a silver-lined silhouette illuminated in parts by the firelight nearby. She gripped her legs tight against him feeling his cock move in and out between the lips of her vulva she gasped and dug her nails into his head as she pressed him once more to her breasts. Zygurd understood her invitation all to well and sucked on her nipple once more. As he did this she started bouncing up and down on him, letting her pussy slip off his cock until just the nice large head remained inside of her then settling back down on him. Up and down.... She rode him like a horse, feeling his throbbing cock within her like length of hot iron inside of her gripping pussy. She could feel her body begin to tingle as if set on fire all at once. She looked down at him, her eyelids heavy with the sweet lusty need that boiled in her She was approaching her edge... and Zygurd could tell all to well. He too could feel something almost like liquid hot flame burst up through his heavy balls as he listened to the soft slapping sound her body made as it connected with his. He felt a sudden clenching of her pussy as she threw her head back and mewled almost like a cat. Zygurd tried to pull her off him and let his seed spill elsewhere but she threw his hands off her and settled herself down hard upon his cock, her pussy milking it softly as he exploded within her. He let out a low roar and tossed his head to the side, his hips pumping up into her. She could feel each spurt deep within her body... filling her with the orc's hot cum. She snarled and buried her face into his chest, letting him expel his hot thick jets of cum into her while her pussy spilled it's juices all over his member. The two of them finished cumming and at once she fell off to the side, breathing heavily and looking up into his eyes. She brought her face close to his, stealing a kiss once more.
Zygurd started to say something but cut himself off, seeing that she had already curled up, resting her body against his, and passed out. He smiled and felt himself grow weary now... with his newfound love in his arms he let his lids close and dozed off warm in her soft embrace for another night.
_____________
Once again he awoke that night, Zygurd's eyes popped open as a strange moist panting breeze brushed across him. He stared forward his eyes adjusting to the darkness and found himself peering back into a pair of phosphorescent yellow eyes. A lupine nose pressed against him, snuffing about and taking in his scent. Zygurd sat completely still unsure of what to make of this thing. He could not see it fully... too much of it was in the way. Ilga awoke as well and looked up.. She made as if to scream but tensed up and stared on frightfully at the thing. Zygurd looked down at her and flattened himself against the tree trunk.
Without warning the thing pulled away a few steps and Zygurd could see it. A massive wolf-beast... the kind ridden by the wolf riders. He wanted to relax but he knew he wasn't about to let his guard down yet. There were footsteps now and a gruff voice.
"On your feet." came a familiar words from an unfamiliar voice. Zygurd slowly got to his feet. And peered at the source, he could see a broad shouldered figure helmet clad and clutching a cutlass.
"What's your name trooper?" the voice asked. Zygurd cleared his throat.
"Zygurd... house of Morne" he said his back pressed to the tree still. The figure approached and pulled the helmet off. Zygurd could see the green flesh and rough features... an Orc.
"One of the Nurdim lads huh?... the scouts said your regiment was laid waste, no survivors... "
"Well they were wrong weren't they?"
"You survived... I don't know how, but when a unit takes a beating like that, it says something about anyone who manages to survive..."
"Been trekking for two nights now... "
"and who is that?" The Orc said, pointing at Ilga, slipping her tunic back on.
"One of the human women..."
"A prisoner?"
"No... she was with the pictish reinforcements.... We've been traveling together."
"Admirable... Two survivors then. Come... we've made camp by the hillslope.... We're moving back north... come."
Zygurd motioned for Ilga to follow. They took their things, and marched alongside the wolf rider back to the camp.
There they were, the elements left after the battle, mustering back up and licking their wounds. Zygurd walked amongst rows of the casualties. They moaned, finding themselves in various states of ill repair. Ilga strode on next to Zygurd. The rider showed them to the muster circle where the still well and standing warriors were gathering. The commanders were shouting orders and Zygurd found a lieutenant. An orc who hailed from somewhere near his home in Nurdim.
"Zygurd from Nurdim... what news is there?" He asked the Orc.
"Nurdim?... gods... didn't think one of you would make it back... we lost a few ourselves..." the lieutenant muttered. "Come, you're with us now... we can at least make sure you get back home at the end of the war... if you're still alive that is. "
Zygurd turned to look at Ilga... he opened his mouth to speak when a sharp human voice called out. Ilga turned to see one of her fellow Picts beckon her over. She stared at Zygurd.. Their eyes met..
And that was the last time he was that close to her.
He watched her draw away.... He called out to her... She seemed to resist the pull of her fellow humans pulling away and going their separate way....
The crowds parted.. The Orcs went one way, the humans went another... they picked up their wounded and made the long trek back to their lines. Zygurd marched forward, his eyes keen and his gaze steadfast... yet his mind would be elsewhere for some time to come.
____________
There was a path that cut through the town to the way outskirts. The path was covered by a small forested area. The stranger walked along it, the town behind him as he pressed on along the path. His face obscured by a great helmet. He could see a small clearing in the distance ahead. An inviting place that seemed to beckon him. He felt it must have been beckoning him like this for years now. He could feel his heart race with a sort of excitement.... Which stopped abruptly as something leapt form the brushes beside the path.
With a sort of snarl one might expect from a tiger cub, a young boy leapt onto the path. He was dressed plainly in tartan breeches and a small tunic, he was wielding a tree branch and baring a pair of short little fangs. The stranger looked the child over, a truly strange young boy. Long dark hair, a lupine nose and slightly greenish skin. The stranger smirked as the young boy, about 7, delivered an ultimatum.
"Grrr! Nobody goes this way boy-o! better run back or Sigurd's gonna knock your head off!" The little whelp growled. The stranger knelt before the youth and smirked.
"Who's this Sigurd then?" He said in an odd accent. "He must be a powerful warrior if he can knock my head off."
"Sigurd is me!" the child stated proudly, puffing out his chest. "And Sigurd is the biggest toughest warrior in these woods! So you'd better not take another step! It's my duty to protect these lands from intruders!"
The stranger laughed and patted the kid on his shoulder. "That is quite the task... And it is certainly becoming of a strong and courageous warrior." He looked the kid up and down. "You needn't worry about me then O mighty warrior. I am but a humble stranger coming in peace. I will not tarry here long, so long as you promise me you will always keep a watch here and guard this path and this home from it's enemies. Can you do that Sigurd?"
The boy nodded and watched as the stranger stood up and moved onward down the path. The child smiled and turned back to the road, holding his stick like a footman's pike. The stranger smiled and moved to the house. He moved through the yard and found the door. He knocked twice and heard a reply from within. A very irritated feminine voice shouting out.
"One moment! One moment!"
The door swung open and the stranger could see the woman. A firm and beautifully built woman with dark hair. She carried a great wooden bowl against her hip and stared glaringly at the stranger for a few moments. He smiled and felt his heart race... yes... it was here... as beautiful as the day he'd seen her in the underbrush. The stranger pulled his helm off and the woman let out a gasp... the bowl clattering to the floor beneath her. Ilga could hardly speak... her voice cut off with a trembling sob as her fingers trembled. She placed a hand over her mouth and backed away.
"Zygurd..." She gasped stepping back against the table behind her, tears welling up in her eyes. The orc approached her with outstretched arms and she flung herself onto him. Dampening his shoulder with her sobs of joy.
All that Sigurd could mutter at that moment was.
"Is he mine?"
She nodded and pressed her lips to his.
"Yes.. He is yours Zygurd... hes ours... "
Zygurd pulled his head away and looked into her eyes.
"He's beautiful.... He has your eyes Ilga." Ilga let out another laughing sob
"It's been hard... here.. Without you... I've had to raise him on my own... we cannot live in the villiage with the others... we must live here... it's alright though... I can put food on the table... and he's so adventurous.. He wants to be just like his father... I told him about you every day. I told him his father was a soldier... I told him his father had saved my life... I told him that when we made him, we loved each other truly and passionately... I told him about you so much.. I just... I never told him that he'd get to see you....Please... I've been silly... I should have..."
Zygurd shook his head and hushed her, tears of his own welling up . "No... it's alright... It doesn't matter. I'm here now Ilga... and I'll be a father to him... I've been searching for you for six years... You're everything I have now... I've lost much through the war... but I still have you... And if you'll have me, I'll make you my wife..."
"Yes Zygurd...."
They looked once more into each others eyes. ... They glanced out the window of the hut, seeing their son march up and down the road like a soldier... Just like his father. Zygurd turned back to Ilga and let another deep kiss swell between their lips.
"I love you.. Ilga..."
"I love you Zygurd..."
The sun drew it's arc across the sky... setting in the west and casting the warm glow on the hut. As the sun set Sigurd ran home to his mother, unknowing that this would be the last time he called only her name as he ran through the front yard.
|
The blonde sitting over there at the desk - that's Vanessa.
She looks fabulous for her thirty-two years. Hourglass figure, curves in all the right places. Well turned out in her heeled ankle boots and tight black pants. There's something about her that tells you she's in charge here. Perhaps it's the way she wears her hair: Tied back as it is in that immaculate, high-knot pony-tail.
This is her office. She runs things here. She's got over fifty girls on her books, most of them eastern-European and Russian. They probably expected to get chambermaid or waitress work. Perhaps they still think they might, one day.
Right now though, they work for Vanessa. They're her girls. Her whores.
Vanessa's supplier, Stenson, is the shabbily dressed, unshaven guy sitting opposite her across the desk.
"Well," Stenson raises his brow expectantly. "What do you think?"
"Very nice," Vanessa nods. "She's pretty."
They're looking at Francesca.
Francesca is indeed pretty. And young. Too young to be here. Cropped blondish hair. Hazel-brown, blinking eyes. She's shivering. Frightened? Looks tired. Distraught. It's been a long trip.
"Do you speak English, Francesca?" Vanessa asks.
"Yes, a little."
"You understand where you are and what is happening, don't you?"
Was that a sob? Is Francesca crying?
"You're to work for me until you've paid off your transport, fees and documentation costs. You understand that, don't you?"
Francesca nods. Definitely trying to hold back tears.
"Good girl."
Vanessa likes calling them "girls". Her girls. It makes her feel important. Powerful. Sexy.
"Take off your clothes, Francesca. I want to look at you."
Francesca doesn't look up. She understands. She knows why she's here. It's only until she can pay them for bringing her here. She had to come, didn't she? To find a better life. To try to be someone. Don't look. Just undress. Easy.
"Come on, girl."
Francesca crosses one arm over the other, pulls her frock up over her head, sets it to one side, and stands before them in her underwear.
"Everything. Hurry up."
Francesca unclips her bra and reveals to them her medium breasts with their thick light-brown nipples. She slides her panties down her legs and steps out of them. She's in good shape. The nub of her clitoris is visible. Did she shave her pussy because she knew she would end up here?
"Beautiful," Vanessa sighs.
Francesca doesn't look up.
"Turn around."
Francesca turns obediently. Tight little bottom. She's going to be popular. Stenson will want extra for her.
"She's young. How old are you, Francesca?"
"Eighteen."
"Eighteen?"
Francesca nods. She might be eighteen. She might not be. She definitely looks young. Too young. She should at home with her family in her village in Romania. This is no place for a girl her age.
"She's not a virgin is she?" Can't afford a virgin.
Stenson shakes his head. He knows she's not a virgin. He knows that because he raped her twice on the way here. And Gatsby had a go too. Definitely not a virgin.
"Bend over, girl."
Can't see Francesca's face, but she can't be enjoying this. Displaying her pussy-lips to them from behind. But that's why she's here, isn't it? That's her ware. It's what Vanessa is buying.
Vanessa gets up, struts confidently over to Francesca's rear, places a palm on one of the girl's bare buttocks, and gives it a good feel. Firm. Tender.
"I like her," Vanessa makes up her mind. "But I want her cheap."
"Three thousand," Stenson says. "For this quality, that is cheap."
Good. Not unaffordable.
"I'm going to have to train her up," Vanessa shakes her head. "I'll give you two thousand for her."
Francesca still bent over before them. So this is what it feels like to be sold into sexual slavery. To be sold to an English woman. For a couple of thousand pounds. More money than can be imagined back in her village. So cold. So naked. So exposed. Have they finished looking at her pussy? Can she straighten up? Can she put her clothes back on?
"Two-and-a-half. Agreed." Vanessa shakes Stenson's outstretched hand.
"A pleasure doing business with you, as always," Stenson beams at her. Another deal done. Another whore sold. Easy money. And he'll be back. With another girl. Around the end of the month. Una Latina de Bolivia, perhaps, next time. Adios. He doesn't even glance at Francesca as he exits Vanessa's office, whistling.
Vanessa sits back at her desk and taps her keyboard. The minutes go by. Francesca shivers. Her pussy still on show from the rear. This is humiliating. Cruel. Absurd. Can she straighten up now?
"Don't move girl."
Why isn't she allowed to move? Was this how prostitutes were supposed to behave? She hadn't imagined it would be anything like this. Were all the girls that come here treated like this? Are they all raped by their traffickers? Are they all inspected and sold like meat?
"Listen, girl. If you behave yourself and do what you're told, we'll get along."
Vanessa has said the same thing to more than one hundred girls. It comes effortlessly to her now, but it wasn't always this easy. She used to feel the guilt and the shame. She used to want to stop and get out and not be involved. But over time she's learned to be at peace with herself. She knows what she's doing isn't right. She knows she's as much to blame for forcing these girls into prostitution as anyone. But she also knows that if she didn't do it, then they would only be sold to someone else, and that that could be a thousand times worse. No. At least if they were with her, she could make it tolerable for them. Her girls are the lucky ones. She knows they are lucky because she has seen what goes on elsewhere. She has seen girls beaten to within inches of their lives. She's seen them branded. She's seen them dog-fested.
No, Vanessa doesn't treat her girls like that. She's helping them. Sure, she can be cruel. But it's cruel-to-be-kind. That's fair, isn't it? Don't the girls almost always end up thanking her, despite themselves?
"You may turn and face me."
Francesca straightens up, relieved. As she turns she catches Vanessa's gaze. She looks down hurriedly, unsure of herself. And ashamed. She knew it would be like this, didn't she? But she still came anyway, didn't she?
"I'm tough, but fair. I know how hard it is for you girls coming over here. I want to help you, but I can only help you if you help me. We'll work out a plan to get your debt paid off. I won't cheat or mislead you. Just work hard for me and obey me. If you can manage that, your stay here will pass smoothly, painlessly and quickly. Do you understand, girl?"
Francesca sniffs and nods. She understands. She doesn't have any choice but to understand. Maybe they really will help her. Maybe.
"Do you know how to curtsey, girl?"
Francesca nibbles her lower lip.
"Where you'll be working, you need to learn to curtsey. Curtsey for me now, girl."
A small, shy curtsey. That will do. For now.
"Every time you speak to me, you will curtsey first – and that includes nodding to say yes. Understood?"
Francesca nods. Then curtsies.
Wrong way round. But that will do too. For now.
"Since I have just bought you, I am now your owner. You will address me as 'mistress'."
Francesca stares at the floor. Owned? She belongs to someone else?
"As far as I am concerned, you are my slave. My property. You will remain my property until you worked enough to buy yourself back from me."
How does Francesca feel, now that she knows she is someone else's property? A possession. A thing. A nothing.
"Please..." Francesca starts.
"What is it?"
"The man..." She manages between sobs. "He forced me..."
"I'm not interested," Vanessa shrugs. "If you were raped, it was because you deserved it."
That's harsh, she knows. But it's the only way. She's gone the sympathetic route in the past and it's ended up getting messy. Experience has taught her that the only way these girls will survive their ordeal with their psyche intact is never to pander to their doubts and uncertainties, however understandable they might be. Better instead to make them see from the outset that they cannot control it. If they realise they cannot control it, then they won't feel responsible for it. If they are not responsible for it, then they can endure it.
"So, girl. Let's see if you've understood. Who owns you?"
Francesca performs a small curtsey and squeaks inaudibly.
"Speak up girl."
"You, mistress."
"Say it. Say 'you own me, mistress' and curtsey while you say it."
"You own me, mistress."
Delightful. She's half-way there already. Such a sweet, submissive girl. Cute little curtsies. Need to work on her posture, though.
Who's that?
Oh, it's Zynab. Look how she slides saucily round the half-ajar office door. Such a tease.
Zynab is Vanessa's assistant. She's twenty-three. British, but of Pakistani descent. Stunning short skirt. High-heeled sandals. Sexy floral-print blouse. Long, loose, dark hair. Full, pouting, fuck-me lips. Painted red.
"Oh my," Zynab puts a finger to the corner of her mouth and grins mischievously. "Sorry to interrupt. Is that the new girl?"
Vanessa doesn't answer. Of course it's the new girl. What does Zynab want? Busy.
"Very nice..." Zynab's eyes shine naughtily. "May I?"
Impossible to say no to Zynab. Not in that skirt. Even if she is interrupting.
"Of course. Go ahead."
Zynab sidles up to Francesca and for a moment they return each other's gaze. Mistake. How dare Francesca look her superior in the eye? Disrespectful little white slave-bitch. Slaves look down. At their owner's feet. That's how it works.
"Don't look at me, whore!"
Vanessa bristles with pleasure. She adores watching Zynab reprimand the girls. Because she has a certain way about her, something which Vanessa has always envied. She has the courage to be cruel where most would hold back. And for someone so young, she's not afraid to demonstrate her wicked talents openly. Almost as if it is the audience – in this instance Vanessa - that drives her.
"Sorry..." Francesca bleats.
Zynab glares at the pussy-maid-to-be (because that's the vacancy they've purchased her for) and dares her – double dares her - to look up again.
"Look at my feet, whore."
Wonderful feet. Incredible bottom too, from Vanessa's vantage point. Who wouldn't but admire Zynab's buttocks tucked up snugly in that cute little skirt of hers. The skirt that Vanessa insists she wears. The skirt that Zynab resisted for so long - because in her culture "women don't dress like whores." But Vanessa is the boss. And this is her culture. Her assistant will dress as she pleases. Wear the skirt, or be replaced. Simple.
"My feet own you." Zynab grips Francesca's chin between her thumb and forefinger and tilts her head forwards. Then she turns to Vanessa and raises a questioning eyebrow.
Vanessa smiles. Zynab deserves a treat. She's a good assistant. Look at her hips in that skirt. She's an Indian Goddess. Would love to have her for a slave. To have her standing submissively, head bowed, displaying her rich, smooth brown flesh, her bare breasts... To have her curtseying and saying 'mistress' and kneeling and bowing. That's the trouble with being accustomed to having submissive, naked girls at your constant beck and call. You can't help but imagine having every woman you meet in your service.
"Sorry..." Francesca is in tears. The poor girl. She's been forced into this. She's an illegal in this country. She has no friends here. No relatives to turn to. She has to get some money from somewhere. She has to.
"Kneel, whore."
Vanessa feels her arousal growing. What is it about Zynab that makes her so horny? What if Zynab were to command *her* to kneel? Would she kneel? How must that feel? Her sheer beauty is enough to make you want to submit to her, isn't it?
Francesca kneels, visibly afraid. She's probably never had her tongue inside another woman's vagina. She's about to find out. Poor little thing. Naked. Miles from home. Just been told she's owned. That she's a slave. Raped by Stenson and his cronies. And now kneeling at Zynab's feet. Still looking at them obediently.
They're gorgeous feet. Perfect high-heeled sandals. Perfect coffee-brown skin.
"Kiss my feet."
Francesca contemplates Zynab's toes. She doesn't have any choice. She's not legal. She doesn't know anyone. She's their whore. Their slave.
"What are you snivelling for? You want to pay off your debt, don't you? Kiss my feet. NOW."
Francesca bows humbly and presses her lips to the bridge of Zynab's left foot. Smell her flesh. Taste it. It was never meant to be like this. It was meant to be easy. Go to the UK. Work in the sex industry for a while. Make money quickly.
Vanessa, still seated at her desk, squirms with pleasure. This is why she puts up with the occasional prickles of conscience. Nothing trumps this. Nothing. One submissive sex-slave being dominated by one beautiful and willing assistant. Wearing the skirt she said she would never wear.
"Use your tongue. Lick my toes."
Poor Francesca. It's not her fault. She knew she would have to do some things she wouldn't want to do. That was the nature of the work, wasn't it? And she had even heard about the English and their perversions and their bizarre fetishes. But she never thought it would be like this. Like this! God. Not like this.
"Say sorry," Zynab smirks down at her.
"Sorry..." Francesca sobs, repeatedly kissing the tops of Zynab's toes.
"I am your mistress. You will call me mistress. Apologise again. Kiss my feet and keep apologising."
"Sorry mistress." Kiss. "Sorry mistress". Kiss. "Sorry mistress". Kiss.
It won't be forever, will it? Kiss her feet. Accept inferiority. It's just the way things are. Life is not always fair. Maybe she *had* been a little disrespectful? Look at Zynab's ankles. And she has amazing legs, doesn't she? No-one has long, smooth, brown legs like that back in Romania.
"Sorry mistress". Kiss. "Sorry mistress". Kiss.
Vanessa leans back in her chair and slips a hand past her belt-line into the front of her pants. Already moist. Watching Zynab makes her so horny. So incredibly horny.
"Sorry mistress". Kiss. "Sorry mistress". Kiss.
"Shut up and lick my toes."
Francesca's tongue waggles slavishly across Zynab's toes. She's good. Has she done this before? Does she have any idea how arousing her submissiveness is?
Vanessa locates her own clitoris and turns the tip of her forefinger around it. Her power makes her want to come. All these girls. These slaves. And Zynab. In her skirt. And Stenson raping Zynab. Probably raped her bum. Probably came in her face and made her suck him clean.
"Suck my foot, whore. I want to fuck your face with my foot."
Francesca, by her failure to resist, is humiliating herself. But she won't stop. They never do. She knows she is owned now. She knows she has to accept it. No choice.
"Today you're my foot slave." Zynab pushes the end of her sandal roughly into Francesca's distorted mouth. "Tomorrow you will be my pussy-maid."
Vanessa pants with excitement, captivated by Zynab's performance. Both hands at her own sex now. Tending the flames. Knowing the only way to put out the fire is to let it burn.
"Look at my panties, whore." Zynab pulls up the front of her skirt a little way, displaying the most astonishingly beautiful sight that poor little Francesca has ever seen. Vanessa can't see it from where she's sitting, but she knows that sight. She's seen it more than a few times. In a way, she *can* see it. Because it's all she ever sees when she looks at Zynab. In that skirt.
Perfect thighs surrounding a perfect little pussy. Covered by perfect panties. Soft, white, delicate, hand-tailored silk. They were a gift. From Vanessa. Just for Zynab. Vanessa had been there when the dressing-maids had measured her up. Zynab had been a doll that day. A living doll. She had argued and protested against dressing the way Vanessa wanted her to. But in the end, when she saw how much Vanessa was prepared to spend on her, she relented. And she remained so quiet, so passive while they measured and re-measured her sex. The distance between her anus and her sex. The width of her anus when bending over.
"My panties are worth more than you, whore," Zynab brags. "Kiss them. They own you."
Francesca, wet faced, nods her submission. Anyone entering the room right at that moment would surely be of the impression she was veritably salivating at the prospect of kissing Zynab's panties.
Vanessa fidgets in her seat and sighs with pleasure. Imagine kissing Zynab's perfect pussy through the material of her panties at her crotch. No. Don't imagine that. Only the slaves do that. It's how they know their place. Don't even think about it. But imagine it though. How can one look at Zynab and not imagine it? Imagine being Francesca. If she hadn't just been sold into sexual slavery, she might even be enjoying herself. Better than being raped, wasn't it? Better than being branded. Or dog-fested.
"You're my slave."
Francesca pecks submissively at Zynab's crotch. This is how slaves worship their owners. This is how they show respect. How they demonstrate their humility and devotion.
"You hear me, slut? You're my slave."
Vanessa loves hearing Zynab say that. She needs Zynab to say it again. She needs to hear it. Hearing it excites her more even than the prospect of a stiff thrust of cock between her legs. Imagine Zynab telling you that: That you are her slave. That she owns you. No. Stop thinking that. No need to think that. That's not how it is.
"My panties are worth more than you. Think about that as you kiss them."
Why doesn't Francesca refuse? Why doesn't she resist? Is she really going to make it that easy for Zynab? Why do they always make it so easy for her?
"Sniff me, whore."
Vanessa imagines that smell. The divine fragrance of Zynab's sodden, swollen sex. What she would give to make Zynab one of her girls and to own that pussy. As she had sat and watched her the day they measured her for the panties, hadn't it felt then - even if only momentarily - that she *did* own her? But how to own her always? How to make a pet-slave of her? God. What would Zynab say if she knew how much she secretly lusted after her? Perhaps she does know. Maybe she wants it. Maybe she wants to be owned. Maybe that's why she submitted to wearing the skirt? Impossible to sit still now. So aroused. Love watching slave-whores worship Zynab's pussy. Need to come. Need to desperately.
Look at the new girl running her tongue over Zynab's panties at her snatch. Lucky girl. She can do that and feel no shame because she's nothing more than a slave-whore. Lucky bitch. Probably doesn't know just how lucky she is. Impossible for Vanessa ever to do that. Not now. To sink that low would be unthinkable. No, not unthinkable. Not realisable. She could still think it if she wanted to, couldn't she?
"Lick my pussy, whore." Zynab grabs a clump of Francesca's hair at her crown and steers her face into her groin. Then with her free hand she pulls her panties aside, revealing her glistening sex.
"Taste me. Taste your new owner."
It doesn't matter that Francesca has never done this before. It doesn't matter that she's not bisexual. Here, all girls are bisexual. It is a requirement. If it does not come naturally, then it will be learned. Or acquired.
Francesca will be doing a lot more of it, too. Zynab will have her line up with the other girls and they'll take it in turns lapping at her expensive panties and kissing her feet and thanking her for owning them. That's what Zynab does best. That's what gets her off. How fortunate for Vanessa, because that's what gets her off, too. It's getting her off even now, as she massages her clitoris and wriggles in her seat.
"More. Eat me faster," Zynab snaps. Watch her pouting, red lips. She's the devil. She's perfect evil.
Francesca's flicks her tongue frantically at Zynab's insides. This is what life here will be like. This is the taste and the smell that will linger and serve as a constant reminder of who she is and what she has become. Every time Zynab passes, she will recall the sensation and remember that she is to bow her head and spread her legs, simply because she is worth less than the strip of material covering her mistress' sex.
Vanessa needs to slow down. Take deep breaths. No rush. Zynab isn't through yet. Enjoy the show. Let it consume you. What a good deal she's done. Francesca is submissive by nature. Not going to require much training. Think of the money to be made... May even treat Zynab to another skirt.
In place of tears, Francesca's cheeks drip now with the juices of her new mistress. Gagging at Zynab's sex. Gasping for air. And look at the expression on Zynab's face. Imperious. Smug. Delighted with herself.
Francesca's head is wrenched back with a violent tug on her hair. Did she do something wrong? Wasn't she licking her mistress fast enough? Not deep enough? Not obediently enough?
Zynab grips one of Francesca's nipples in her fingers and twists it roughly in her fingers, causing her to wince.
"Shut up." Zynab slaps the same breast, then swings across the other with the back of her palm. Yelping like a startled puppy, Francesca cowers as far as Zynab's grip on her hair permits.
Vanessa runs a hand over one of her own breasts and circles her nipples with the tips of her fingers. Electricity. Go on Zynab. Slap them again. Have them. Own them.
"Your breasts are mine." Zynab barks at a red-faced and trembling Francesca. "Offer them to me."
Francesca doesn't move. Offer them? How?
"Offer them to me NOW, whore."
Francesca just wants it all to end. Hasn't she been humiliated enough? Improvising uncertainly, she cups a hand under each of her breasts, raises them up slightly and opens her palms towards Zynab. Presenting her breasts to her mistress. Is she doing it right? Is this what her mistress wants?
Zynab slaps each breast twice. Francesca turns her head and grits her teeth. It hurts. Not too much, but enough. Does she really have to offer another woman her breasts? Does she have to put up with this?
Vanessa twists her own nipples in her fingers. She owns them all. All those girls with their slappable, kissable, suckable titties...
"That's better." Zynab gives Francesca another couple of slaps. "I own them, and I want them hard."
Francesca continues to offer up her hardened nipples. She wants to protect them, but she's afraid to. Are they no longer hers to protect?
"Now offer me your pussy."
What? How?
Just do something. Anything.
Still kneeling, Francesca parts her thighs slightly, reaches down and crudely pulls her pussy-lips aside.
"I can't see it there, whore." Zynab barks. "Lie on your back, raise you knees, and spread your legs."
Switch off. Don't think about it. It'll be alright. They'll look after her and help her pay her debts, won't they?
She lies back, raises her knees, spreads them as widely as she can and prises her pussy open with her fingers. Pink. Young. Fresh.
"Look at that, Vanessa." Zynab prods Francesca's sex with the end of her foot.
Vanessa grunts her approval. Fresh, young, wet pussy. Could she display herself to Zynab like that? How must that feel? How low are these whores? How worthless that they give their young pussies to be bought and sold like discounted meat?
"You know how much these shoes cost, whore?" Zynab swings an ankle over Zynab's face. "More than you. A lot more than you. Fuck yourself on my foot."
Francesca wriggles. Is every item of clothing her mistress is wearing worth more than she is?
"Every time a client fucks this pussy, you'll remember my shoes own it."
Francesca hates herself. She hates herself because she is pushing her clitoris into the sole of her mistress' sandals. She hates herself because she's rubbing herself against it and becoming aroused. She hates herself because she's unable to suppress her whining and her panting and her moaning. Are her mistress' shoes really worth more than she is? Do her mistress' shoes really own her pussy? Is that why she is giving her pussy so readily to their service? Is it still hers to give?
"There's a good little whore. Shine the soles of my shoes with your cunt juice."
Vanessa is close. She always comes after buying a new whore. Today will be no exception. She's a prisoner of her own prestige. A slave to her own seduction. She owns flesh. Their flesh. All her girls. They belong to her. Even Zynab, in a way, belongs to her. God. If only she did.
Francesca is close too. She knows she shouldn't be. She surely must know that she shouldn't be. This can't happen. Not to her. Not like this. It was never like this in Romania. She squirms and bucks and pants and moans. Her orgasm is ripe to explode within her. Raped. Sold. Humiliated. Foot fucked. And yet she's going to come... What does that say about her? What does that say about her response to being sold as a sex-slave? What would her friends say if they could see her now? What would her family say?
"Come then, you selfish whore," Zynab snaps at her.
And so Francesca comes. Clasping Zynab's foot to her sex. Hugging it there and quivering on it. Her face contorts with lust, pity, pleasure, anguish, ecstasy, sorrow. Now whimpering like a cub. And more tears.
Vanessa comes too. Can't hold back. She thrusts her pelvis up and down on her own fingers, tenses and arches her back. Try to hear the silent scream of a woman in the throes of dark lust. Heaven. Nothing tops it. Imagine Zynab's lips on yours. Imagine her fingers fondling your hair. Must stop thinking that. It's dangerous.
"Eat me again," Zynab snaps at Francesca. "Give me your selfish little whore face."
Francesca is up on her knees in an instant. Too obedient. Too submissive. How can she accept this?
Vanessa rides her aftershocks as they ripple through her. God. Great orgasm. Going to have to fuck Zynab soon. Can't resist her much longer. Either that or else replace her so as not to have to look at her and suffer. Maybe make her wear an even shorter, tarty skirt. Yes. That'll be fun. Push her to her limits. See how badly she wants to keep this job. Replace her if she refuses.
Zynab climaxes violently in Francesca's face.
When she's through, she'll call Francesca a whore and slap her cheeks. She'll have her lick her own whore-juice off her feet. She'll have her say "Thank you mistress" over and over again until it starts to sound like she means it.
Wait for that, then mention the skirt.
|
Miku looked up at the dangling crystal, her eyes blazing with a fierce intensity as she focused on the swaying, glittering piece of glass and set her mind to the task of following it with her stare. Chris waited for her to get settled, a tiny smirk spreading across his face as he watched her get ready with all the determination of a gladiator preparing for battle. "Whenever you want to start," he said, his voice ever so slightly condescending to Miku's ears. She knew it was absurd to get so competitive over something so silly, but she was determined to get all the way through this time.
"Z," she said, as he began to swing the crystal back and forth.
"There we go, that's a good start," Chris replied, his voice dropping slightly in register and mellowing into a warm, breathy purr. "You know you can do this. Just keep your mind focused on the letters, keep your eyes focused on the crystal and you know you'll be able to work your way easily and effortlessly back through the alphabet for me. And..."
"Y," Miku intoned, trying not to think about the way her lips already felt numb and clumsy as she spoke. She understood enough about hypnotism to know that every time she went through this sequence of actions, she became more and more susceptible to trance simply by association, but she was still just stubborn enough to force herself to try to get a little bit further along each time. Last time she made it as far as 'O'. This time she was sure she could get all the way.
Chris didn't make it easy, though. "That's it," he said softly, his voice coaxing her deeper into relaxation with every word. "Picture every letter in your mind as a link in a chain, each one leading you deeper down to the next one in a steady, even descent. You always start wide awake at 'Z', and you always sink down to 'Y', and after that comes..."
"X," Miku murmured, ignoring the way her brain lurched slightly as she spoke. It would be a lot easier to win if Chris didn't keep changing the game every time they played; sometimes he described the letters slipping away from her mind as she sank deeper into trance, while other times the recitation itself was hypnotic. She could never keep up with it all, especially not with the crystal constantly drawing her gaze back to its sparkling, captivating depths.
"That's right," Chris said, giving her an encouraging smile to go along with his encouraging words. "You're doing so well, staying focused and attentive to the letters, focused and attentive to the crystal that sways back and forth, and back and forth, and focused and attentive to the sound of my voice as it relaxes you deeper and deeper with every letter. Deeper and deeper with every letter, and the next letter is..."
"...W," Miku said, conscious of the moment of hesitation but unable to conceal it. She would have an easier time if she was working with hiragana-even after six years in America, she still had to force herself to think in English. Reciting the alphabet backwards required real mental effort on her part, especially when she was also trying to keep her mind on the crystal and Chris's voice at the same time. But that was what made it a challenge... and a challenge that Miku was determined to win.
"And deeper," Chris continued smoothly, lifting the crystal just a tiny bit so that Miku had to strain her eyes that much more to look up at it. "It's so good to repeat each letter and go deeper, so much better to struggle to remember the next letter and sink deeper still. Until you reach that warm, wonderful place in your mind where it feels too much like work to think at all, with..."
"V..." Miku mumbled, her head nodding just a little as she felt the suggestion take effect. She could feel the fog in her mind thickening, forcing her to expend a little more energy each time to follow the chain of the alphabet deeper into the spell that Chris was slowly weaving around her thoughts with his words. Her eyes already felt so heavy, but Miku knew that if she let them close she wouldn't be able to open them again.
Chris nodded encouragingly, his smile widening as he watched her eyelids droop and flutter. "That's it. Good girl. You're relaxing so much more now, focusing on each and every letter as they lead you deeper into my hypnotic trance. Paying close attention to the facets of the crystal as they gently spin past your tired, heavy eyes. Listening to my voice as I guide you down and down and down into the soft, sleepy place in your mind where you don't need to think anymore. Getting easier and easier to relax and sleep with every letter..."
Miku felt the pressure of the expectant pause, stretching out into a miniature eternity as she struggled to remember what letter she'd just said, let alone what letter came after it. "...U?" she finally guessed, her body twitching as a wave of deeper relaxation washed over her and her eyes began to burn with the effort of keeping them open. Miku could tell that this round wasn't going well, and the part of her that hated losing struggled against the part of her that knew all the things Chris was going to do to her when she lost.
Chris must have seen her internal battle and decided to put his thumb on the scale, because he reached out and took her left wrist in his right hand, rocking it gently from side to side as he said, "That's my good, good girl. Focusing on those tired, heavy eyes that want to slip shut and sleep so badly now, keeping your mind on my soft, soothing voice as it lulls you deeper and deeper into relaxation, staring at the crystal as it swings back and forth, feeling your muscles go loose and limp for me, and saying the next letter now..."
Miku's head jerked forward, and she blinked heavily as the fog in her thoughts threatened to overwhelm her completely. She tried to remember the next letter, but to remember the next letter she had to remember the last letter, and she couldn't concentrate on the letters and the crystal and Chris's voice and her tired eyes and her limp muscles all at the same time. Things kept dropping out of her head, just like she was... was hypnotized.
But Miku didn't want to be hypnotized yet. She wanted to show that she <i>could</i> resist, even if she didn't really <i>want</i> to resist, and she knew that didn't really make sense but she couldn't really think it through properly because her brain wasn't working very well right now because of the hypnosis that she wanted to resist... or did she? Miku realized distantly that her eyes had narrowed to slits, a thin band of white the only thing showing as she struggled to watch the crystal even though her head was already slumped forward onto her chest and she couldn't seem to lift it again.
But she knew she had to respond. She knew she had to say a letter, because if she didn't say a letter she would have lost the game again, and that would mean she was becoming more and more obedient every time they played. Miku wasn't sure she was ready for that. She liked being Chris's girlfriend, she liked all the hypnosis games they played together and all of the wonderful things he made her feel while she was deep in his power, but... she wanted to believe that it was still her choice. Even though she secretly dreamed of the day when she would stare at the crystal and sink into hypnotic oblivion at 'Z'.
So she fumbled around in her drowsy brain, forcing herself to pull out the only letter that still held any kind of meaning to her. "...N..." she mumbled, a trickle of drool running down her chin and soaking into the fabric of her thin shirt. She could feel a different kind of liquid warmth between her legs, as her body began to anticipate all of the ways that Chris was going to play with it once she surrendered to the trance completely, but her muscles felt too deeply relaxed to do anything about it.
Chris must have known somehow that she was almost ready to go under, because he let her arm drop heavily into her lap and reached up to stroke her cheek. "That's my good girl," he cooed, pulling her gently forward to slump into his arms. "That's my blank, obedient girl. Every letter you say makes it harder to remember the next one, until you're so helpless and confused that you don't have any thoughts at all anymore in that sleepy head of yours. Until all you want to do is repeat my words back to me like a good girl and surrender your will completely. Do you know your letters? Or are you a good girl?"
Miku heard, as if from an incredible distance, her voice slurring out, "ggd... grrl..." in a vacant, sleepy monotone. She had just enough time to be proud of herself for beating her record before her thoughts slipped away from her entirely and she surrendered to trance once again.
THE END
|
Madame Macabre returned home well after midnight, exhausted almost beyond endurance from assisting the Liberty Squad in their battle against the Void Titans. She was so tired that she didn't even bother with a concealment spell; she simply flew into the window of her third story walkup in the Little St-Ouen district of Pyramid City, counting on the darkness and the late hour to protect her privacy. Her little bookshop was hard enough to find anyway-the odds that some stranger would be watching it when she arrived home seemed like an acceptable risk when weighed against trudging up three flights of stairs.
If anyone did show up tomorrow asking inconvenient questions, she could always cast a charm over their memories, but she didn't feel too concerned. Despite a sign hanging over the door that announced the presence of 'Tales Come to Life - Rare Books and Antiquities', and another on the door itself that invited people to 'Come On Up!' in hand-lettered Gothic script, very few buyers ever actually made it to Madame Macabre's shop. Quite a few very desperate sellers, usually clutching a book they were very happy to be rid of, but almost no buyers. And certainly no social callers apart from a few highly trusted superheroes. Madame Macabre didn't invite ordinary people round her place any more than the Bank of England held high tea in their vaults.
Of course, she thought with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach as she alighted through the open window, the fact that nobody could get in didn't mean she never had any security problems to worry about. Even as dulled as they were by drowsiness, her mystic senses could tell that something was wrong even before she found her clerk Mordecai slumped unconscious in his favorite armchair, a book with mysteriously blank pages lying open on the floor beneath his limp and dangling hand. As soon as she saw him, she realized exactly what it was that was pricking her magical intuition.
One of the stories had escaped again.
She reached down and scooped up the book with her pale, dexterous fingers, turning it over to look at the spine with a sense of growing apprehension. She relaxed a little when she saw the title-'The Tale of Silas the Somnomancer'-but only a tiny bit. Silas was far from the most dangerous of the narratives she kept imprisoned in her magical shop; if Stabbily Ever After or The Duchess of Bone had made it out of their volumes, she probably wouldn't have found Mordecai alive. But she knew how Silas's story ended, and that meant she still couldn't leave it until morning. Damn. It was always something.
She closed her emerald-green eyes for a moment and made a few mystic passes, her fingers contorting into strange poses as she borrowed energy from her future self. It meant that she would crash even harder when the balance came due, but energy didn't come from nowhere, and Madame knew better than to try to take on this particular foe on anything less than full rest. Silas only knew the one spell, and he was anything but subtle with it, but the longer she left him to his own devices the more powerful he would become. If he had any purchase inside Madame Macabre's own mind, like for example being utterly drained from a full day of casting powerful magic, she knew her wards would crumble from within as well as without. She had no intention of letting that happen.
Madame Macabre felt the bright, sparkling power flow through her mind and body, washing away the cobwebs in her brain and leaving her filled with mystic strength. She made a quick, fluttering gesture at Mordecai that caused him to wake up with a spluttering cough, and said, "You fell asleep. Please don't let it happen again; not only will I dock your pay, but there's a very good chance that you could wake up without eyeballs. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go talk to a man about a book." She cast a quick waking ward on him just in case, then left him stammering apologies as she flew out into the night once more.
She really wished she could find a better helpmate than Mordecai, but there wasn't exactly a hiring website for assistants to the wardens of a mystic prison for out of control entities formed from the collective imagination of humankind. And it wasn't as though she could simply stay in the shop twenty-four hours a day anymore-the world had too many magical threats for her to spend all her time keeping the stories under control. Mordecai tried his best, and if he sometimes slipped up, well... that was what she'd spent centuries training for, wasn't it?
Not that Silas the Somnomancer needed centuries of training to prepare for. Even by the standards of a predetermined narrative, Silas ran on rails a bit-he was never happy with his status as a somnomancer, he always wanted to become a stronger magician, and he always looked for artifacts and rituals that would give his simple sleep spells more raw power. He never understood that he was there as a cautionary tale to young wizards, reminding them that strength wasn't everything. Someone written specifically to be an idiot about their own area of expertise was rarely much of a threat.
(Madame Macabre sometimes suspected the writer wasn't doing it on purpose-the prose was so bland and didactic, and Silas was such an annoying character, that many of them never even made it to the sleep spell in the back that he was there to teach about. Probably generations of student magicians willed him to life purely out of their collective irritation.)
In any event, at this stage, he wasn't yet much of a danger. She simply had to trace him down to the nearest collection of magical items-he was drawn to them like a raven to shiny objects, and she usually found him at some museum or private collection that didn't know what it had and didn't have enough to be worth the attention of a real thief. Then it was just a matter of warding off his battering ram of a sleep spell and binding him back into his book. She'd done it dozens of times. It was almost comforting to have something so simple to solve at the end of a long day of saving the universe.
That attitude lasted about three hours. Then she started to get annoyed. She had checked the Pyramid City Museum, the Antiquities wing of the local college, and no less than three private collections that she'd been keeping an eye on, all with no luck. She knew she hadn't missed him-if she knew anything about Silas, it was that he wasn't subtle. He usually left a trail of somnolescent bodies in his wake, security guards and homeowners alike slumped where they fell as they gave in to the power of his tranquilizing sorcery. But so far, nothing. Madame Macabre was beginning to get a little bit worried. The longer it took to find him, the more tired she would get. She didn't want to fight him on his terms, not when losing meant...
She tried to push the end of his story out of her head, but her mind simply wouldn't let it go. Silas the Somnomancer, deciding to use the artifacts he'd collected to summon a demon and demand the power that was his by right. Silas punching a hole in the fabric of reality without the proper rituals or training of a demonologist. Silas unleashing a horde of beasts from beyond reality that consumed him and everything else. Madame Macabre sighed in frustration. Why couldn't that long dead author simply have ended the story with Silas losing his powers or something?
Finally, just before dawn, Madame Macabre found herself outside of a palatial home owned by the Duquesne family. They were known mostly now as patrons of the arts, sitting on something like five generations of accumulated wealth, but Madame Macabre had always suspected that they owed more than a little of their fortune to sorcerous intervention back in the days when Pyramid City had first been settled. She'd always had better things to do than to prove it, though... until now. Tonight, she was desperate for a lead, and this was the only place within sixty miles of Pyramid City that she hadn't already checked out. She had no idea where Silas would be if not here-his instincts would keep him moving away from her shop, and she certainly didn't think he'd hopped onto a plane. His book predated the automobile, for Baal's sake. She descended onto the terrace behind the house, her red hair streaming behind her in the pre-dawn light, and made a gesture with her fingers.
It wasn't needed. The door was already open on its own.
Somehow, that worried her much more than it should. She didn't like finding broken glass, unconscious butlers, ransacked display cases and missing items of power... but she was finding that she didn't like *not* finding those things even more. Silas wasn't supposed to change his MO. He wasn't supposed to be able to. He was a story, pinned eternally into place by the strictures of his narrative. But if he was here... and Madame Macabre was increasingly convinced that he was here, somewhere... why was he hiding? How had he gained access? Where were the people who lived here? Had he caught them all in their beds, one by one, and simply deepened their natural slumber with his unnatural one? She didn't think a bumbler like Silas would be capable of that, but-
Her whole world went sideways as she was tackled from behind. Strange hands grabbed her arms, pulled them out and away from her as they pinned her body into place, and locked fingers with her grip to keep her from making even the simplest of spellcasting gestures. And only then, as the lights went on, did Silas step into view.
He looked as she remembered him in many ways-the same threadbare velvet robes, the same weedy goatee, the same ruddy cheeks and bulbous nose like Billy Bunter had grown up and gone to seed. He gave a shrill giggle and said, almost to himself, "It worked! It worked! It really really worked! Oh my, but this is just the most wonderful thing!" He clapped his hands together nervously, his eyes alight with malicious excitement.
Madame Macabre didn't understand how any of this could have happened. She looked over at the figures holding her tightly in their grip, utterly bewildered by their very presence-she recognized them from gossip magazines as members of the Duquesne family, one of the older sons and one of the younger daughters. Their eyes were wide open but unseeing, and they held her in a grip so determined that Madame could tell instantly that she would break her fingers sooner than break free. As she craned her neck around, struggling wildly and ineffectually against her captors, she saw that a maid and a butler had her legs held tight. And the matriarch of the family, Dame Lucette Duquesne herself, was sitting on Madame Macabre's back with no apparent awareness of her actions. (Or her weight-Madame Macabre winced as her full breasts were squashed against the hardwood floor.)
"I, I don't understand, how... how...?" Madame Macabre's voice trailed off into confusion as she desperately tried to force her fingers into a spell, any spell. It wasn't that she didn't understand what Silas had done-he'd used his simple-but-versatile sleep spell to draw the inhabitants of the house into a waking dream, turning them into blissful and blank somnambulists who did his mental bidding. They all thought this was a strange dream, one where they subdued an intruder and welcomed an old friend that they knew they knew intimately even if they couldn't say how or from where. It was one of the many, many applications of somnomancy that Silas wasn't supposed to understand.
That was what had Madame Macabre so perplexed... and frankly, terrified. Silas wasn't capable of this kind of nuance. That was the whole point of his existence-he used sleep magic purely as a blunt instrument, and one he openly disdained in favor of grand world-shattering evocations at that. How had he learned to use it to enslave people? More importantly, how had he learned anything at all?
She could figure it out later. For now, she focused on casting a simple disruption spell-it was limited and temporary, but it only required a very small motion of her left thumb. Once she snapped Isabelle Duquesne out of her waking slumber, she could get that hand free and use it to cast some serious magic to ward the whole family against Silas's castings. She didn't need it to last long, just long enough to bind him, and then-
She cast the spell. It didn't work.
Or rather, it worked for a moment-Madame Macabre saw Isabelle's eyes flutter in momentary consciousness as she became aware of her surroundings. But then her expression settled right back into that same glassy, placid indifference, and she didn't relax her grip for nearly long enough for Madame Macabre to break free. Another wiggle of her thumb targeted Claude Duquesne on the right, but again, it simply produced a temporary flicker of awareness that settled back into that same sleepy bliss.
"I did anticipate that," Silas said, squatting down to look her in the face. "You see, they are having a very pleasant dream at the moment-the most pleasant I could possibly give them, and that turns out to be very nice indeed. Free them as many times as you like, but their minds will always want to return to that same warm, drowsy place inside of their heads... and as long as they do, my spell will reassert itself." He clapped again, as though his hands were a fluttering moth banging against a window pane. "Oh, this is so wonderful! I never have to go back again!"
Madame Macabre struggled to lift herself. "It's... no good," she gasped out, panting with the exertion of trying to rise. "You... you can't win, you don't ever..." Her muscles gave out and she collapsed back to the floor, her breath going out in a whoosh as the weight of Dame Lucette's body forced the air out of her lungs. "...win..." she wheezed out, hating the defeated tone in her voice.
"Oh, I know I've been somewhat... limited, in the past," Silas said modestly, his hands working in mystical gestures as he spoke. She felt his sleep spell slam into the wards she'd placed around herself before she arrived, but they held for the moment. "But I spoke to the most amazing person when I was at the university. He was there to steal a little bauble, some trinket or other that he needed for his wider plans, but he saw in me quite a bit of potential. I was flattered, really. He expanded my consciousness, let me see what I was truly capable of. Freed me of my limitations. And do you know what?" He grinned widely, his cheeks dimpling with excitement. "I genuinely think I can rule the world with just a single spell!"
He giggled again, but his fingers worked with furious intensity as he battered away at Madame Macabre's mystic shields. "Oh, I know it seems unlikely, but really, I know just how it's going to work! These charming people will give me all the worldly wealth I need-it seems silly that I was going to consort with demons for the power to influence people, when honestly a little cash here and there does just as well. And once you're sound asleep... and that is going to be very soon, Madame, don't think you can resist me forever... well, then I'll have an ally who can do all the magic I ever wanted. And who knows so many of these delightful, um, superheroes that are so popular these days."
He leaned in to whisper to her conspiratorially. "Between you and me, that was part of the bargain I made with my benefactor. He keeps his secrets, does his business without interference, and me? I get a whole world to rule, and every hero in it to serve me." His hands moved faster and faster, repeating the sleep spell over and over as he spoke. "Starting with you. Starting now."
Madame Macabre tried to tell him that he was wasting his time, that she knew the spell he was casting and that she could hold it off as long as it took to free herself. But then the borrowed energy that she had stolen from her future self ran out, and her mind collapsed into irresistible drowsiness as she sagged down into sudden, inescapable slumber. She didn't even have time for a last thought before darkness swallowed her up. But if she had, it would have been to curse her own arrogance. Everything Silas said was true... and she was going to help him achieve it all.
*****
She dreamed of sex.
She knew she was dreaming; one didn't get to become a true adept in the sorcerous arts without knowing how to tell reality from its various permutations, alterations, and illusions. But knowing that it was a dream didn't make it feel any less real; the shifting, fluxing fantasy of sex felt every bit as good to Madame Macabre's body as if it were genuine physical pleasure. She could feel Adventure Girl's warm breath against her labia, look down and see WildRose and Venus Ascendant latching onto her nipples with their soft lips and suckling at her heavy tits. If anything, it felt more powerful; her mind was foggy and soft, and everything beyond the sex disappeared into a warm red mist of pure and indescribable lust. She only wanted to fuck right now. And she never wanted to stop.
That was part of the spell, but she couldn't escape it just by realizing that. She needed energy to overcome the drowsy inertia that kept drawing her back down into the dreamscape, helpless to resist the semi-permanent orgasm that flowed over her body as Adventure Girl's tongue was replaced by the Rescuer's cock. It felt so real to her, and so good-better than any sex could ever be. The Rescuer fucked her so powerfully, so intensely, and in the dream there was no possibility of pain or injury from his superhuman thrusts. She could take his massive dick with jackhammer force and feel nothing but pleasure. It was utterly overwhelming.
She tried to force some urgency into her thoughts, to remind herself that Silas was making her somnambulent body obey his every wish while she was trapped here in this dream state. But nothing seemed to matter. Every thought, every notion seemed to drift through her lethargic mind with the same placid, peaceful drowsiness, from 'Oh God, Professor Psyche's fingers feel so good on my tits' to 'I'm going to be used to help enslave the human race', and there was simply nothing she could do about it. Silas's magic kept her exhausted, enervated, drugged into blank and mindless slumber. And the sex...
The sex kept luring her deeper into her dream. She hated to admit it, but it was. It had been months since she'd had a good fuck, and decades since she'd had the kind of apocalyptic gang-bang her unconscious mind was giving her. She was getting double-penetrated by Starheart and Harrier while her tongue worked away at Sharpe's swollen cunt, she was getting spattered with Doctor Magick's cum all over her face and tits while Azure reached down and rubbed her clit with every thrust of the massive cock inside her. It felt so good, so real, so powerful that Madame Macabre didn't want to let it go. Silas was right. She couldn't resist because she didn't want to resist. The spell would always fuck her mind deeper into pleasure, and she would sink further and further into that same drowsy bliss.
And it was even worse than that. Silas told her he was going to use her to cast spells for him. He was going to keep her drained, her mental and magical batteries constantly pressed into service for his goals while her mind drifted through an endless dream of sucking and fucking. Even though she was sleeping constantly, her mystical energies would never replenish enough for her to even try to fight him. She was defeated. Utterly, thoroughly, and completely defeated. Somehow, though, that only made the sex that much better. It really was the most ecstatic bliss that she'd ever felt in her life.
She gave in to it. She stopped struggling to think, stopped wondering if Silas was forcing her to mesmerize her friends and allies and simply relaxed her mind into the rhythm of the sex. She rode Captain Patriot's cock to one climax after another, let Epiphany and Dilettante tweak and pinch her nipples until they practically incandesced with sensation, presented her ass to Eris and let the other woman rim her out until she almost cried with the joy of it. She couldn't win. She couldn't fight. She couldn't resist all this bliss. Why try?
The pleasure was so strong. So very very powerful. So real and so powerful, as real as any sex she ever experienced and charged with so much more erotic energy that-
And then she had it. In her dream, she smiled. And she fucked her lovers even harder. She rose up and down, letting the Rescuer pound her cunt with more force than any human being could even survive, let alone enjoy, letting her dream self experience the thrusts all the way up her spine. She drew every last moan, every last whimper out of him, knowing that when she couldn't even imagine him fucking her one second longer, there would always be another man or another woman right behind him to pour that pleasure into her.
Adventure Girl licked away at her clit, spiked that talented tongue deep into her cunt and sparked her into white-hot, tingling bliss. And Madame Macabre drew it all into herself, channeled it up her body past the sacral chakra where the sensations originated up her spine to her solar chakra, then further up and up her body with each tiny little kiss and suck. She didn't cum from it. She wasn't trying to cum any more.
Instead, she kept channeling the pleasure further along her chakra centers, building the tantric energy more and more with every partner. Doctor Phobos slid into her ass, his cock stimulating all of the tingling nerves with his rapid thrusts, but she simply accepted the energy and drew it up to her heart and her throat centers. When Voltaic fucked her wet pussy with a dick that literally crackled with electricity, she took every thrust until she could feel her third eye opening with the revelatory bliss of it all. She hadn't done magic like this in ages, but it was just like riding a bicycle. (Well, perhaps not a cycle, but definitely very bi.)
Finally, as Venus Ascendant slid her entire fist into Madame Macabre's cunt and flexed it, Madame felt the energy crowning above her head. She didn't know whether it was the feeling of perfect fullness that did it, or the little smile of pure joy she imagined on her partner's face, but it was all the energy she could possibly imagine. It came from her sex drive, it filled her up to overflowing far beyond anything Silas could even imagine, let alone drain. It felt like being a tiny god, holding all the power of a thousand lovers in her heart and her head, imagining it smashing down all the barriers and constraints that kept her imprisoned.
And with that... Madame Macabre woke up.
*****
She didn't know how long she'd spent in her waking dream, but the fact that she was wearing a completely different outfit (bondage gear? Really?) and she was kneeling at Silas's feet next to Adventure Girl and Venus Ascendant told her a lot. He must have accomplished quite a bit while she was daydreaming. Which meant that she was really going to enjoy wiping that smug look off his face.
It didn't take long. He barely even had time to recognize that she was free, let alone act on it before she cast a powerful ward on her friends that obliterated any trace of Silas's spells. They both looked shocked-Madame Macabre expected they had just come out of a dream very much like the one she had experienced-but the sheer force of her tantric energy prevented the spell from reasserting itself. Strength wasn't everything, but it certainly wasn't nothing, either.
Then she went after Silas. The energy she was channeling wouldn't last, but given how powerful she felt right now, she didn't need it to. She buffeted him with a gust of wind that sent him head over heels off of his throne (really? He made himself a throne?) and kept him too off-balance to even think about another spell. Her sentient whirlwind chased him around his... throne room, Madame Macabre mentally sighed... while she scooped up the book that had held him imprisoned. He couldn't destroy it, not without destroying himself. It was a part of him.
And now, she thought as she made a last few mystic passes, he was part of it. She gave him a tiny wave as he flowed past her, his substance melting like warm wax and scribbling itself onto the pages, and then closed the book with a grim smile. She'd need to put this one in the Sequestered Section from now on. Add that to the list of things to do, right after 'find out who could re-inscribe a living manifestation of the human imagination, and what they were planning to do with that kind of power'. Oh, and 'explain to the two bewildered superheroes next to you what happened'.
She looked over at Adventure Girl and Venus Ascendant. "I know this all seems odd, but... can you bear with me long enough to get this book back to my collection? My clerk has probably earned more than a little time and a half waiting for me to return." She had a sudden memory of Mordecai, subject to a compulsion that kept him awake until she returned, and privately winced. Definitely time to give him a raise.
Adventure Girl looked over at Venus Ascendant, her cheeks bright red in that charming way she had when she was horny as fuck and didn't want to admit it. "Um, okay," she murmured, practically biting her lip in frustration. "We'll follow along for the moment, we'll wait for you to do... whatever it is you need to do." Madame Macabre smiled politely, trying to pretend the two women wouldn't be fucking like rabbits the second she left them in the guest room. "But we really need answers."
"And you'll get them," Madame Macabre said. "In due time. Silas needs to go back on the shelf... and frankly, if you don't mind my admitting it? I could do with a nap after all this."
THE END
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