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New Eden 26

L.Corvidae

Red Rain

"So," I said nervously, "this is nice." It was like something out of the Twilight Zone. The three women I was having dinner with might as well have been clones, each at a different stage of development. I was seated at the head of the dining table, with Camille on my right and Casey at my left. Stacey, the older girl, was next to Casey, further down along the table. At least the food was excellent: spaghetti in a rich red sauce that had bits of sausage in it, with stuffed mushrooms and garlic bread on the side. There was a bottle of Corbel, too, but Camille was drinking most of it herself. "So, uh, Casey, you like baseball, huh?" Casey, who had just slurped up one long noodle, liberally spattering her face with tomato paste, just rolled her eyes as if I'd asked the stupidest question on earth. Stacey snorted loudly. "Our father likes baseball," Camille answered sharply. "I do, too!" Casey insisted. "You know," I interjected, "I couldn't help wondering..." "Daddy wasn't invited," Casey said, answering my question before it had been asked in a small, sad little voice. "Father remarried after mother died," Camille explained, seeing my curious look. "I don't get along well with her." "Stacey says Barbara's a 'cunt'!" Casey added. Both her sisters shouted at her in unison. "You little troll!" Stacey added, punching the girl in the arm. "Stacey!" Camille barked furiously, banging her fists down on the table hard, rattling the china. I suddenly wished she wasn't hogging all the champagne. Casey murmured darkly, rubbing her arm. "You know," I said, again desperate to change the subject, "this meal is terrific!" "Get used to it, Stud," Stacey muttered. "Everything else she makes tastes like bat barf!" Camille didn't say anything, but she glared murderously at her younger sibling. In spite of the tension, Casey giggled a little at "bat barf." Camille poured herself another glass while the rest of us quietly stared at our plates, occasionally shoveling a forkload of pasta into our mouths. "So tell me, Stud..." Stacey began. "Will you please stop calling him that!" Camille snapped. Undaunted, the girl ignored her sister and looked me straight in the eye. "So how did you two meet?" "At a party, actually," I said as Camille knocked back half of her refreshed flute. "Were you drunk?" she asked, giving Camille a dirty look from the corner of her eye. "Not particularly," I answered. Camille had her hands in her lap, curled up into tight little fists. I reached under the table, took her left hand in my right, and gave it a reassuring little squeeze. Stacey seemed disappointed, and quietly went back to her dinner. Casey carefully placed both hands around her glass of milk and lifted it to her lips. When she set the glass back down, a deep, heady belch escaped her. "Good one!" Stacey laughed. "What do we say, Casey?" Camille said sternly. "Sorry," the little girl answered meekly. "Jesus, Camilla," Stacey shot back, angrily. "Like you're so perfect you never burp or cut the cheese!" Camille glared at Stacey, but the girl went on, addressing me directly. "I hope you know your girlfriend shits milk white chocolate!" A stunned silence fell over the table. "Is that with... or without almonds?" I asked, batting my eyelashes innocently. Stacey's jaw dropped open, and Camille looked at me with open shock. Then the teenager broke into a wild, almost hyena-like, laughter. I joined her, chuckling affably, giving Camile's hand another squeeze. Casey joined in, not quite getting the joke, but not wanting to be left out. Even Camille managed a tight smile at her own expense. We ate the rest of the meal in good spirits. As Camille got up to bring out the sherbet, I felt a sudden urge to try again with the small talk. "So, what time is Camille taking you two home tonight?" "She's, uh, not," Stacey replied, her eyes darting around evasively. "I'm not what?" Camille asked, returning from the kitchen. When I told her, she made a strange face. "Well, Casey is staying until Sunday," she explained, looking intently at Stacey. "And I just assumed Stacey would just drive herself home." "I, uh, didn't see a car out there..." I said nervously. Stacey gave me a dark look and Camille's tension returned with a vengeance. "What happened to your car?" Camille demanded icily. "Geez! It was just a little fender-bender! You don't have to get all postal about it! Carly's going to pick me up at ten!" "You mean your stoner friend?" I shifted in my chair, suddenly very uncomfortable. I caught Casey's eye and we regarded each other, embarrassed. "Wanna see my baseball cards?" she asked quietly. I nodded eagerly, and she took my hand and led me away from the burgeoning war zone. She led me to the stairs, and for an instant, I had a horrifying vision of her calmly leading me by the hand down the stairs, to that place of darkness; her piping, melancholic voice the last thing that I would hear as the door slams shut, saying, "We look like everyone else." Thankfully, she led me up the stairs instead, to the second bedroom which had, up until then, registered in my consciousness as little more than a closed door next to the bathroom. The room was much like her sister's next door, save for the fact that the furnishings were all obviously reproductions, instead of genuine antiques, and all painted in a matching white. There were pennants on the walls, all Cubs, and a bookcase whose shelves were filled with binders on the lower levels and a few assorted plastic figurines on the upper ones. "This isn't my real collection," she said, stressing the word "real." "These are just my doubles. My real collection's at home." She picked out a binder and we walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge of the pink, quilted comforter. I looked at pictures of people I didn't know, and listened to stats I could care less about. The more she went on, the more she relaxed. "Do you get to see a lot of games?" "I used to, all the time," she said, the glum quality returning to her voice. "But now daddy spends all his time with Barbara." She said the name like a child's taunt. "So... I guess you stay over here a lot?" I asked, looking around the room again. After all, sweet as she was, she did represent a possible hitch in my blossoming sex life. She shrugged. "Every other weekend or so. I think Camilla wants to be my mommy." I looked down at her, surprised at her insight. We sat quietly for a moment, the binder still open in her lap. I reached into my back pocket and pulled out my billfold. "You wanna see something?" I asked, unfolding the worn cowhide. She nodded, looking between me and the wallet with avid curiosity. "Okay," I began, "this is a true story. Before I was born, my parents lived in New York City..." "Yankees!" she said, breaking into a heartbreakingly innocent grin. "Exactly," I said, returning the smile. "Anyway, my grandfather was a taxi driver. Was his whole life. And people were always leaving stuff behind in his cab. Jackets, money, umbrellas..." I left out used condoms and hypodermics. "The day I was born, right before he got the news, in fact, he was cleaning out his cab from that morning, and he found this - " I handed her the card, and her eyes became as big as saucers - "wedged down into the back seat." The card had been bent in half, the corners were dog-eared, and the border had severe foxing, but none of that mattered to her. "Joe DiMaggio," she whispered reverently. I nodded. "My grandfather always kept it in his wallet after that. Considered it his good luck charm. When he died he passed it on to me." I saw the way her eyes sparkled, the way her tiny hands trembled as she held the ratty old thing, tenderly, yet clinging to it for dear life. "You like that, huh?" I asked. She looked up at me with newfound respect, and nodded solemnly. "You can keep it, if you like." "Jordan, no!I looked over at the sound of Camille's voice and saw her standing in the doorway, her arms folded across her chest, looking at me in the same awestruck way that her sister was. Casey jumped off the bed, calling out to her sister and brandishing her newfound treasure like the Holy Grail itself. "Look Camilla, look! Joe DiMaggio! Joe DiMaggio!" I laughed and stood up slowly. Camille was saying "Yes, that's nice," without ever looking at the card. Instead, she kept her eyes on me the whole time. "I can't let you..." she began. "Aw, it's pretty beat up. You can barely make out the autograph." Casey shrieked with excitement and immediately began thoroughly inspecting the card for the faded remnants of ink. "Jordan, it must still be worth..." Ignoring her, I turned to Casey. "Hold out your hand," I said. She did, giving me a funny look, and I gave her a quick low-five. "Slapjack," I said in the parlance of my own childhood, "no tradebacks!" "What's that mean?" she asked, puzzled. I dropped my voice to a conspiratorial whisper, but not so low that Camille couldn't hear me. "That means she can't make you give it back." Casey started dancing around the room, while Camille still glared at me with resigned irritation. I smiled and gave her a fleeting kiss. She sighed, gave me a look that indicated she didn't know if she wanted to hug me or punch me in the nose, and then leaned in and gave me a second, longer kiss. "It's past your bedtime!" she said loudly, resting her forehead against my chest. "Awww!" "Say good night to Jordan, please," Camille said, pushing herself away from me reluctantly. The little girl walked over to me and stared up with those huge, sad eyes. "Good night, Jordan." I smiled warmly back at her. "Night, Casey." Then Camille shooed me from the room as she began giving orders for Casey to prepare for bed. I strolled down the stairs with a goofy grin on my face. There was a cool breeze through the living room, and it carried a smell I still remembered from college. Stacey was on the back deck, the joint clenched between her lips. She looked over her shoulder at me as I stepped through the open sliding glass door. "Pretty expensive bribe for your girlfriend's kid sister, don't you think, stud?" she asked, taking a long drag. She exhaled a cloud of noxious smoke and tried to smile at me seductively. "Makes me wonder what you've got for me!" "You heard all that, did you?" I asked, leaning up against the rail beside her. She nodded, and offered me the cigarette. "Want some?" I shook my head and she shrugged her shoulders as if it were no skin off her ass. "I don't know," I mumbled, turning to stare out over the placid, gray surface of the lake. The air was cool, but it had lost the bite of the previous days' chill. "Maybe it was a bit much, but fuck it! By the time I have kids, baseball will be so far out of it that they won't even care who Joe DiMaggio was. Hell, I only really know about him from the card, and 'Mrs. Robinson.'" "Who's Mrs. Robinson?" Stacey asked. I turned my head slightly, to see if she was yanking me. She wasn't. "So tell me," I said, turning back to face her; leaning up against the rail on one elbow, "why do you enjoy busting your sister's balls so much?" "Maybe because she always acts like she has balls," she said, taking one long, final drag. She flicked the remainder away towards the lake; a cascade of sparks flitting through the air before being swallowed up by the night. "She's a bitch," she said, blowing out a last, billowing plume up into the air. "She deserves it. You could do better." "Why? You know someone who's available?" She smiled enigmatically, and was on the verge of responding when the distant crunch of tires on the gravel drive interrupted; followed by the grating bleat of a horn. "Gotta jet, stud," she said, backing away, still smiling. "You watch out for those almonds, now. They get stuck between your teeth!" She winked, and disappeared around the prow of the house. A few seconds later, the car tore out of the drive loudly, with a gratuitous flourish of the horn. Silence slowly settled down over things again. I turned back to the lake and lost myself in its depths for a while. Eventually I heard Camille close the sliding glass door behind me. She took one breath and swore sharply. "God damn her!" She leaned up against the rail next to me and sighed mournfully. "Well, I guess I should be happy it's just weed and not heroin... yet, anyway." I cocked my eyebrow and looked at her sidelong. "What are you? Joe Friday? Weed!" She laughed, too. "Mary Jane!" "Whacky Tobaccy," I said in a slow, southern drawl and we both broke into laughter that lasted a long time. When the laughing had run its course, she sighed and took my hand. "Walk with me," she said, leading me down the steps. We walked hand in hand along the shore, moving steadily away from the house. We kept going until her house was just a vague, dark shape at the end of the beach. We stopped a few yards before the strand gave way to hills and grass and the shoreline curved back towards the more densely packed beach houses. The moon was waxing, but it still wasn't very full. Starlight reflected off the mirrored surface of the lake and frolicked in the depths of her eyes. "I want to do something," she said, biting her lower lip and glancing back anxiously at the house. I turned my head and looked around. Even if Casey were to wander out onto the deck, she still probably couldn't see anything clearly that far away in the dark. "Take off your pants." I didn't need to be told twice. In seconds my khakis, only one of two pairs I owned, lay in a wadded heap in the sand, along with my briefs. Camille put her hands on my shoulders and gently eased me down onto the cool, gritty sand. I laid on my back, staring up at her with breathless anticipation. Billowing her long skirt like a tent, she stepped astride my bare legs, and let the fabric of the skirt cover my nakedness, the hem reaching all the way up to my chest as she squatted down over my cock. "Just so you know," she informed me, grunting from the strain on her legs as she held her position, "I did not go through dinner bare-assed! I took them off before coming out on the deck!" With that, she awkwardly began thrusting her uncovered pussy around; blindly trying to connect with my penis. When the head of my dick brushed up against the moistened lips of her sex, I shuddered and had to suppress a sudden, premature eruption. It took a little more, entirely thrilling, fine tuning, but finally she was able to steer me inside of her, and with a last, heavy sigh, she dropped on top of me unceremoniously, our pubic bones banging together painfully. She didn't lose herself in passion, as she always had before, but rather rode me with a look of fixed concentration on her features, sitting bolt upright, her whole frame trembling a little from the exertion. The only complaint I had was that the sand dug into my ass mercilessly. After a few minutes of thrusting and groaning, she slowed her already leisurely pace and looked me directly in the eyes. "Hold very still," she said, deadly serious. She began lifting herself up off my cock, stopping halfway. She kept herself in that position, again, showing the obvious strain of doing so. She smiled, a chilling, wicked smile. The orgasm hit me, literally hit me, so fast and so hard that I lost all conscious awareness of everything around me for several minutes afterwards. It was as if she had, in one unbelievable maneuver, managed to envelop my cock, my balls, my thighs, my pubis - all of it - in the searing, wet juices of her womanhood. The hardest hit was the penis itself, experiencing a rush of heat and wetness unlike anything I'd ever felt in all my life. I lay there on the beach, dizzy and gasping for air. Camille chuckled to herself and lifted her body off of mine. As her skirt swept away, the dampness, which had so warmed and thrilled my entire lower region a minute previously, started to turn cold and clammy when exposed to the night air. I suddenly realized just what she had done, and it sent a second chill racing through me. I began to squirm, my ass sloshing around in the soaked sand. Camille leaned into my field of vision, cheeks flush, eyes bright and grinning from ear to ear. "Still think people who get off on watersports are freaks?"

Chapter Four: Champagne Supernova - Part Two

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/8872.txt

Waldo (mellin6695.aol.com)

Flash

"He's whacking his meat again. The sound of him playing with himself woke me up," remarked Doctor Zarkov as he crawled out of the small bunk in the rear of the rocket's small living area. Shaking his head as if Hurley's not-so-discreet actions displeased him, the bearded doctor moved forward toward the co-pilot's chair. There was a faint smile on Dale's pretty lips as she brought the doctor up to date on what occurred while he was sleeping. "That's the third time in a little over five hours for him, but who's counting? I know from my own personal experience that coming off the erection-inhibitor pills can be very frustrating if there's not a ready source for physical release. I can easily imagine how frustrating it must be for him at this stage of his withdrawal symptoms, especially with my female body present to act as a catalyst for constantly reminding him of his pent-up frustrations. He's not hit on me yet because he knows damn well what my answer will be - 'FUCKING NO' - because I've already told him that I'll never have sex with any man. But that doesn't stop him from looking at me like a horny dog and imagining what it would be like to screw me. Just before he rushed to the bathroom this time to masturbate again, he told me that I even smelled like a woman." Pulling his pipe out of his pocket and holding the unlit pipe, the doctor mused, "Pheromones. In this small, cooped-up living quarters, your female body produces enough pheromones to make a battalion of Marines go AWOL. I've also noticed the same wonderful smell quite occasionally, and it's had the same physical effect on me. Thank god that I'm so fucking old and decrepit that I can't get it up as often as I did when I was a young horny stud, or I would be back there with the cook, hatching a nefarious scheme with him to use a Tractor-Grazer on you. You've got to admit that your female body is worth fantasizing about. Well, it's good to see that our cook's not shy about expressing his frustration. When they keep their frustration pent up, it becomes more difficult to maintain a healthy equilibrium. Has he flirted with you yet?" "You will know if he does. Just check his eyes out. If one's swollen and bruised, then he crossed the line." "Look, you and I go a long way back, and I'm the only person who knows how this ungodly daily transformation into two different bodies has affected you mentally. I know that when you're in her body, you feel all of her urges, desires, physical itches and frustrations - both mentally and physically. I've seen you go into the bathroom and take a long shower too many times to suspect that you're really that interested in having a clean body. She was only human, and so are you. If the situation was reversed and it was the real Dale sitting here beside me, I would give her the same advice. Don't go months without sex, especially when you're getting ready to put your life on the line again. No matter what the stupid official government studies indicate, sex can be very beneficial if done under the right circumstances. They banned it in space simply because they didn't want to have to deal with uncontrolled sex, such as rape and problems associated with pregnancy, diseases or jealousy on a long space voyage. If I was a young, virile man, I would've already offered myself as a solution to the problems that you're ignoring day after day; but I'm lucky if my little pee spout gets hard enough where it can fit into my hand, much less squeeze into a tight body cavity. That young cook back there has a serious problem caused by drugs that our government fed him to keep him flaccid and behaving himself. Coming off the drugs right now, he could keep it hard for hours and make a woman real happy. I guess that I'm trying to advise you as your friend and as your doctor that you need to rethink some of your decisions about how you're going to handle your dual lifestyle as Dale and Flash. You could solve some of your own problems by helping him with his problem. After all, a good man is hard to find, so it's also true that a hard man is good to find on this small rocket, especially with the type of problems that you face daily." The smile disappeared from her face, and her lips tightened as he openly discussed a taboo subject that she had previously decreed as 'banned'. A ban that the doctor frequently ignored. She recognized that he knew when she was masturbating within the privacy of the small bathroom. That small relief with her hand was her only concession to the strong sexual urges that she felt when she was Dale. And she felt that urge almost daily now. When he was Flash, he also masturbated in the shower as he pretended that it was the real Dale he was making love to, instead of his right hand. When he was Dale, she pretended that she was spreading her thighs around the man of her dreams - her male self. That image came from the real Dale's memories where she really enjoyed making love to Flash, so it was very easy to use those old memories as the basis for the new masturbation fantasies. She knew that the female masturbation frequently got very vocal and loud within the small shower, but Zarkov had always pretended that he hadn't noticed before. Knowing that she had to face the problem sooner or later that he was describing, she ran a hand nervously through the thick mane of dark hair as she confessed to her good friend, "There are times when I think that I'm really her. When I do some of the personal things, such as brush my hair, or spend a little time on my nails, or...." They both knew what she was avoiding mentioning. She continued in a timid, almost hurting sounding voice, "I find myself drifting into thinking that I'm really her...that I feel as if I had been born as Dale Arden. I pray for those moments because I become her so much that I forget about who I really am. Because when I remember that I'm really Flash Gordon in her borrowed body, feeling her pains and pleasures, thinking the thoughts that she would've thought, that hurts so much that I can't stand it. Yes, I do masturbate myself because I can't help myself. I don't do it as often as I would like to, but it definitely relieves some of my frustration and makes it easier for me to stare at my borrowed face in the mirror or to look down at my chest to see her beautiful tits. One of the things that Dale and I used to enjoy when we had time to relax, was oral sex. So when I'm Dale and in the privacy of the bathroom..I frequently finger myself to a high state of arousal as I lick my fingers clean and pretend it's her jism coated fingers that I'm sucking." Zarkov coughed and stared at his trousers as he commented, "Wow. I haven't been this hard in a long time. Just hearing you describe that was enough to bring a spark of life back to what I thought was dead meat." Dale turned her chair and stared at the instrument panel as if the subject was instantly closed. Recognizing that he probably made a mistake, Zarkov continued, "Sorry about that personal observation, but as long as we were airing our problems, I thought that it was important that you know that my cock also considers you to be a total woman." Laughing out loud at her friend's crude but honest compliment, she spun her chair again to face him. For a moment, it looked as if she was going to lean forward and kiss him, which is what the real Dale would've done. She smiled at him and whispered, "My good friend...if I ever decide to have sex as a woman with a man, you will be at the top of my short list of men that I would share my bed with." Rubbing his now-obvious erection through the thin trousers, the Doctor commented, "This is the worst day of my life. I spend months in the company of one of the world's most beautiful women who's totally dedicated to her misguided principles as applies to 'romps in the hay' with men. So what if she's sexually frustrated and spends a lot of time pumping herself? Then one day she says something which turns me on so much that I feel like a twenty-year-old stud."My penis turns into a cock again, and what happens? She still turns down my bedroom request, and some horny cook is back in the only bathroom whacking his meat for only the third time in five hours, so I can't take advantage of my condition. If we can't have sex, how about if I drop my trousers and we take a picture of my manhood because I don't think it'll ever get this hard again at my age. They burst out laughing. Two old friends sharing a man-to-man joke that only they would think as being funny. They didn't know that the cook had just come out of the bathroom barely in time to watch the doctor rubbing his erection and to see the beautiful young smiling woman laughing at his speech. From the look on the cook's face, he certainly didn't think whatever they were laughing about was funny. The doctor heard the door open and spun his chair. Yelling "Gangway" in a joking manner, he rushed toward the open door of the bathroom. He skipped around Corporal Hurley as he unfastened his trousers and pulled the bathroom door shut behind him. Corporal Hurley felt that he had come in on the punchline and that he needed to hear the joke. He sat down in the just vacated chair and noticed that Dale's chest was bobbing slightly as she continued to laugh at the doctor's unexpected childlike antics. Hurley could only stare at her laughing lips and gleaming eyes as he observed a personal side of the transformed Dale Arden that he hadn't seen so far. Up to now, Dale had been just as ramrod straight and somber as her alternating Flash personality. Looking at the vibrant-looking woman sitting beside him, he felt a strong sexual desire for her. A desire that he thought he had just temporarily cured with his only-minutes-before trip to the bathroom. He clenched his fingernails into the palms of his hands, hoping that the minor pain would restore control to the big head, stripping control back from the little head that was taking total control of his body and mouth. He knew that he shouldn't say what he felt like saying, but he felt his lips open and heard the crude but true words come out of his mouth: "I want to fuck you." Her laughter instantly ceased. The gleam in her eyes disappeared, and a seriousness made her eyes look dangerous - like a caged tiger. Her lips tightened, and her breasts quit heaving from the mirth. Turning her chair to face him, she spoke in the command-type voice that they teach officers: "It'll never happen. Forget about it and resume your lessons. We're getting closer to Mongo and need to concentrate on improving your skills." Corporal Hurley had been chosen to become a cook by the military because he wasn't too good at thinking on his feet. Instead of taking her suggestion and shutting up as ordered, he continued digging his grave even deeper as he sneered, "You want me as much as I want you, but you won't admit it to yourself. I saw the look on your face when you were trying to warm my frozen body. You enjoyed it when I rubbed my hard cock against you, didn't you?" The hybrid Flash/Dale's mind was whirling with confusing thoughts. Unexpectedly, the Dale portion of her mind was thinking, "Yes, I need a man, and I did enjoy the sensation when you unexpectedly rubbed your cock against me," while the Flash portion was thinking, "Man, you're about to get your ass kicked for even thinking about jumping in bed with me." Adding to the confusion was the familiar strong itch that Dale was feeling between her legs that she had learned how to satisfy within the privacy of the bathroom. She recognized that her internal 'little head' was thinking for her, just as much as Hurley's cock was speaking for him. Knowing that she didn't want to have this confrontation, she stood up and stepped toward the rear of the rocket to get away from him and to give herself a little time to think. But before she could get more than one step away from the pilot's seat, he caught her hand and used his stronger strength to spin her back into his open arms. Before she could physically resist his manhandling of her, his hands went around her waist, pinning her within his grasp as his lips pressed against her shocked lips. Stunned by the suddenness of his unanticipated actions and by the unexpected strong emotions racking her totally female body, she offered only minimal resistance. Her mind was screaming, "THIS IS WHAT YOU REALLY WANT. FUCK HIS BRAINS OUT, THEN STOMP THE SHIT OUT OF HIM FOR BEING SO DAMN AGGRESSIVE." When his tongue probed through her easily spread lips, she offered no resistance because she knew that Hurley and Zarkov were both right about the frustration that she tried to hide. She needed sex. Real sex, not that temporary masturbation as she tried to satisfy her body's demands. When he pressed his pelvis hard against her vaginal mound and she felt the hard cock sticking straight up within his trousers mashing tightly against her body, she unexpectedly responded by pressing her own pelvis firmly against his pelvis and purposefully matched his gyrating pressure. The hard cock pressed tightly between their close bodies, and all she could think about was how wonderfully warm she felt in her raging body and how much she wanted his cock. A small part of her brain was whimpering, "I shouldn't be doing this," but the larger part of her brain was shouting, "YES. YES. YES, LET ME HAVE IT," while her body was screaming, "I NEED THIS. I WANT TO BE FUCKED. NOW!!!" As a result of all those confusing thoughts, she felt her legs spread slightly to allow his warm masculine leg to slip in between her spread thighs. She tilted her head upward to meet his face and used her probing tongue to hungrily explore inside his mouth as his hands cupped her breasts, causing another fantastic sexual sensation. She fought the strong womanly urge to pull his head down to her boobs and let him nuzzle her. Instead, she dug her fingernails into the back of his head and held his lips tightly against her lips as she tried to delay the inevitable by not going any further than she had already permitted. She felt him guide her backwards against a wall where he pinned her. She enjoyed the dual sensation of the hardness of the wall pressing against her back and the hardness of his cock pressing against her strong internal itch. She felt his hands pull her blouse out of her trousers, and his hands slid up under her blouse as his fingers explored her belly on the way up to her breasts. She felt his large fingers force their way up under the already tight bra and push the bra up her chest, exposing the warm heavy boobs to the coolness of the room air. If Flash was happy when the Dale side of their joined memories was completely in control, such as when she was brushing her hair, then Flash would have been ecstatic over how much of Dale's personality was in control at that moment. It was Dale's female mind that was reacting to Hurley's hungry mouth nipping on her exposed boobs. It was Dale's mind that was guiding her legs to tightly clench around the Corporal's legs as they did what teenagers called 'air-fucking'. Both bodies were humping each other as they leaned against a wall, but there wasn't anything eased into Dale's body other than a tongue in the mouth - YET! She felt one of her legs rise and try to wrap around his waist, but she didn't care that her hormones were controlling her actions instead of her brain. She felt her back arch as she puffed out her breasts so she could let the hungry man roughly suck and squeeze the sensitive flesh. She felt him let go of her nipple with his teeth and step back. She groaned and reached for his head to pull his lips back to her chest, but his stronger arms pushed her back. She could see the lust in his eyes and knew that the same lust was in her eyes. Then she watched him in slow motion as he grabbed her blouse and ripped it open, popping the buttons. She stepped forward and shook her arms to help him undress her as he guided the torn clothing from her body. As she merged back tightly against his body again, she felt his hands unsnap her bra, and she stepped back momentarily, holding up her arms so he could pull it up over her head. Like a tiger on the prowl, she reciprocated his actions by grabbing his shirt and pulling it up, ripping the buttons as she tried to undress him. He grabbed his shirt from her hands and proceeded to rip it from his body as she nuzzled her face against his hairy chest. The feel of the hairy chest rubbing against her face as she licked his male nipples did several things. It eased some of the sexual tension that she was feeling. But it also enabled some of Flash's mind to think about what was occurring. Dale's mind was saying, "We're two animals, and we're going to fuck all night," while Flash's mind was trying to stay focused upon, "I'm kissing a man's hairy chest. STOP!" Hurley grabbed Dale's hand and started pulling her toward the small cot. That simple action was just enough of a 'we are going to do it' signal for more of Flash's mind to take control again. Dale resisted for just a second so that the Flash portion of her mind could think about what was getting ready to occur. And Hurley screwed up. Instead of continuing to saturate the confused woman's over-worked mind with kisses and gentle sensations, he jerked his trousers down and reached for the back of Dale's head to force her mouth down to his cock. She couldn't stop his stronger downward push, but she could divert the downward push just enough to miss the target that her head was being aimed at. She twisted away from him into a spinning spiral so that as her body spun around, her boot-clad foot went spinning straight toward his jaw. With a loud thud, her foot collided hard with his face.For a second, he stood there dazed, then his knees collapsed as he passed out from her forceful kick. Like a falling tree, he fell where he had tried to drag her - on top of the bunk. The bathroom door opened and a quite jovial Doctor Zarkov came out of the bathroom, laughing at some private joke that he thought of while attending to his personal needs. But he quit laughing at the unexpected sight that greeted him. A semi-nude Dale Arden was standing over an unconscious Corporal Hurley whose trousers were down around his ankles. And the young Corporal's big erection was sticking straight up in the air. Turning his attention to the young woman who was angrily staring at the erection as if she was thinking about grabbing a knife and cutting the damn thing off, the Doctor noticed that her naked chest was a mixture of red and white coloring as if there had been some very recent strenuous groping of her body. The thick nipples showed that her body had enjoyed the manhandling. Deciding that he needed to try to make light of whatever occurred between the two of them while he was in the bathroom attending to his own personal needs, he tried to tell an impromptu joke. Pointing at the unconscious man's large erection, he joked "I was proud of my little erection until I saw that thing on him. What happened?" She picked up her bra from the floor and began putting it on as she declared in a solemn tone of voice with just a hint of suppressed anger "You were partially right. He's hard but as long as he's got erection problems, he's not going to be too good. Do we have any erection-inhibitor pills anywhere that we can start him on while he's on this ship with us?" "No, because I don't need them and you've always been against them." Picking up her ripped blouse, she declared in a strong, angry voice "That was when they used them against me and made me take them. But now I can easily see why the government mandates their use on every ship. The Corporal taught me a lot about myself and life that I didn't know." "Uhhh, just because you have one bad experience with a man doesn't mean that all experiences will be bad. You and I both know that it was the drugs that drove him to do whatever he did." In one quick step, she pushed the doctor hard back against the wall, pinning him just as she had been pinned against the same wall by Hurley only seconds earlier. Before Doctor Zarkov could react from the unexpected close quarters of her semi-naked body pressing hard against him, her hot mouth closed over his mouth. Not being a fool, he didn't resist her kiss or unexpected body pressing against his body and quickly felt the wonderful pleasure of her tongue penetrating his mouth. For several seconds, he was too stunned to do anything but enjoy the woman's quick flickering tongue within his mouth and the hard firm womanly breasts mashed against his chest. Her hot tongue within his mouth, revealed her flaming passion that she was fighting to control. Just as quick as their kiss started, she also ended it by pulling away and declaring in a husky voice "Sorry but I feel very aggressive and horny right now, thanks to our friend's overly aggressive stimulation of my body. I didn't know it until he showed me that I have feelings that I've been suppressing, but it appears from my reaction that I really do need to have some sex when I'm in this body. When and if I get fucked by a man, I want it to be because I want to fuck that someone; not because they want to fuck me and are physically superior to me. You're still the top of my short list and if anyone gets willingly into my panties, it's going to be you. And you're right. I do need some sex but I'm not ready for that sex to be with another person yet..especially if that other person is a man. Now if you'll watch our friend to make sure that he behaves himself when he wakes up, I'm going to go take a looooooonnnnnggggg shower. I need a good long masturbation at this moment." Dropping her blouse on the floor, she reached behind her and unsnapped the bra that she had just put on. She gave a quick shake of her body and let the delicate garment fall to the floor. Stepping back toward the doctor who was still leaning against the wall, she pressed her firm breasts against the stunned doctor's chest. She dug her fingernails into the back of his skull, then guided his bearded face down against her soft breasts. In one quick swing of her chest, she rubbed his beard against each breast then pushed away from him as she huskily whispered "I've been wondering for a long time what a scruffy beard would feel like rubbing against my boobs. I like its soft feel. Ta-ta, I'm off to take my shower." He could only stare at her naked back as she walked into the bathroom. He was still dazed and confused from the unexpected turn of events. Usually he carefully composed his words before he spoke but he found himself speaking exactly what was on his mind at that moment "Some men like legs or cunts or ass, but I've always been a boob man. Everyone that knows me, is aware that I thoroughly enjoy looking at women's boobs. So if you want to become a little more closer than just being friends with me some day, I would be most willing to let you see what a scruffy beard feels like against your pretty breasts for a couple of hours. I promise to not kiss and tell." As she turned to close the door, he saw that there was a faint smile on her face. A pretty smile from a beautiful woman with a terrific body that caused him to have the second rock-hard erection that he experienced that day.

Chapter 4 - A hard man is good to find or is it a good man.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/18123.txt

The Midnight Lurker

Cindy's Audience

"Wow, sweetheart! You look incredible!" David's jaw had almost dropped to the floor once he saw his beautiful young wife emerge from the bedroom. David had never seen Cindy dressed in something so tight and skimpy before - except before or during their lovemaking sessions. But this time it was different, because David knew that his 25-year-old wife would soon go out into public in that very provocative and sexy outfit. "Thanks," Cindy smiled in return. She did a pirouette and added, "I'm glad you like it." "Like it?" David gushed. "I LOVE IT!" Cindy's outfit consisted mostly of an aqua-colored top and matching short-skirt, both of which were made of a very thin, stretchy material. Needless to say, the aqua-colored outfit displayed the considerable and luscious curves of her 38d-24-35 figure. Since the top was cut low, it displayed a generous amount of Cindy's ample cleavage. Her breasts were very large and firm, without any sag or give in them. Just like the top, the short-skirt fit Cindy's body like a tight glove. It went down to the mid-point between her hips and knees, and offered a wonderful view of her richly-tanned long legs. To complete the outfit, the beautiful young lady wore a pair of white high-heeled shoes which accentuated her firm, long legs even more. Cindy had long, stylish blonde hair which went down to the center of her back. Even without smiling, there was no argument that Cindy had a beautiful face. But she looked even more appealing when she smiled. Since Cindy was a warm and pleasant person, the 25-year-old woman usually had a happy expression upon her lovely face. David's eyes surveyed the incredible sight of his wife in that outfit and surmised, "If I knew that you weren't headed out for an acting audition, I'd take you back into the bedroom and make wild love to you all day long." "Hmmmm," Cindy squealed, leaning over and pecking her husband's cheek with a kiss. "I'll have to take a rain-check on that, for another day." "You better get going," David said. "The last thing you want to do is be late for this audition. If you land this part in the movie, that would be great." "The audition is not for another four hours," Cindy told him. "I just decided to get ready for it a bit early." "Early?" the man said, confused. "Early? You have to go now, Cindy. I don't want you here when the guys show up, to watch the football game." "Why?" his wife giggled. "Because you'll be talking about 'guy things'? Come on, I have no place to go for four hours. I definitely couldn't go to a book store or the shopping center in this type of outfit. Where else could I possibly go?" "I don't want you here, honey, because the guys who will be coming over to watch the game are a bit rowdy. I don't think you would like them." "Oh, listen to you," Cindy smiled, flipping her hand at him. "I won't like them? I don't judge anyone because they scream or hoot and holler when their favorite football team scores a touchdown." She paused and giggled, "If that was the case, I'd have never married you!" David shook his head and returned, "No, you do not understand. I would just feel uncomfortable with you and them here at the same time." "I'm not leaving," Cindy insisted, "until it's time for the audition. You can try to change my mind, but it won't work." She turned and started strolling toward the kitchen. "Besides, I won't bother you guys. Neither you nor your friends will even know I'm here." As David watched Cindy's round ass jiggle and twitch seductively with each and every step, he mumbled to himself, "Oh, I have a feeling they'll know you're here..." Over the next hour, David's group of friends made their way to the apartment. All of them were his co-workers and were also very close to his age of 28. Alex had blond hair and a physically-fit body, thanks to many surfing sessions at the beach. Shawn's hair was brown and he had a slim but strong body. Kris had black hair and a handsome face, but just an average build. Tyrone had the best-looking body of the group. He was tall and attractive, and black. An African-American man, Tyrone was best friends with David. The four guests expected to come over to David's place to get loud and rowdy for their favorite pro football team. None of them expected to find a blonde bombshell like Cindy; especially one dressed in such a tiny little outfit. They had never met David's wife before, and to no great shock, were extremely impressed with Cindy's beauty. The young woman found herself giggling like a schoolgirl with some of the forward comments coming from the men. "Wow David, where have you been hiding this?" one man said. "What a fine-looking lady," another observed. "Too bad you're married, sweetheart," one of the men told her. David figured his friends were just kidding, so he laughed while telling them to stop teasing his wife. The group finally relented, and made their way to the living room. The football game was just about to start. Nonetheless, the compliments from the guys made Cindy feel very lightheaded and bubbly. She liked her husband's friends. As a result, the blonde decided that she was going to help them out until leaving for the audition. David protested at first, but Cindy nonetheless wound up serving the guys drinks and snacks from the kitchen. It was her own idea, of course. None of the guys objected to having a "waitress" serve them food and refreshments. This way, they would not miss any action of the big game. Over the next hour, the young wife must have made her way in and out of the living room 20 times. Instead of watching the television screen when Cindy was present, most of the eyes in the room were now focused on her large, firm breasts as they seductively bounced and wiggled with each step. If a set of eyes wasn't fixated upon her breasts, they were on her sweet ass, watching it twitch while she moved along. "Why is your wife dressed that way?" Shawn asked David once Cindy left the room. "She's an actress," David replied. "There is an audition later today, and she wants to look her best for it." "Whoooo weeee," Alex commented, shaking his head. "If they are choosing actresses based on looks - in that outfit, your wife should be a lock for whatever role she wants." The other three guests all nodded their heads in agreement. "Come on guys, watch the game," David insisted, shaking his head with a tiny smile. "Get your minds out of the gutter! That's my wife you're talking about!" A short time later, Cindy was preparing a bowl of popcorn and some nachos when she heard a deafening cheer come from the living room - and not the television set. "Those guys," she laughed to herself. "The team must have scored a touchdown." The 25-year-old lady shook her head and added, "Ahh, men. Absolutely crazy for their sports." When Cindy went back out to the living room, all eyes were on her again. While the four guests had explored nearly every subtle curve and shape of Cindy's hot body, they all wondered what she would look like without wearing that tiny outfit. An erection shot up in less than three seconds, in Alex's pants, once Cindy leaned over while handing him a bowl of nachos. Alex had received a clear, unobstructed view down the middle of her deep cleavage. "I'm gonna go upstairs for a second," Cindy told her husband. "I'll be back soon." "Okay," David replied. Once Cindy turned and started walking toward the steps, all four guests turned their heads and watched her ass as it jiggled and swayed with each and every step. "Stop it, guys!" David admonished once his wife went upstairs. They all looked back at him. "This is the last time we ever have a football party at my place." "Ahh come on," Shawn said. "You know, Dave, you're enjoying this just as much as we are. You like showing off that hot wife of yours to us - it's like bragging." "I'm not showing her off!" David told them. "I didn't even want her to be here!I asked her to leave earlier." "Bull..." most of the men chimed in, simultaneously. At this point, Cindy was making her way down the steps. When she heard voices coming from the living room, the woman stopped and decided to eavesdrop. "I'm glad she's here," Alex said with a toothy grin. "I much rather watch your wife than some football game." "Damn it, guys..." David sighed. "Come on, stop..." "What kind of actress is she?" Shawn asked. "What do you mean?" David inquired. "What kind of films does she go for?" "Regular films," David told him. "I think this movie she is auditioning for today involves a night club scene." He paused and added, "Why do you ask?" Shawn shrugged his shoulders and replied, "She reminds me of that hot blonde from the gang-bang movie we watched last week at Alex's house." Kris, Alex and Tyrone all nodded their heads in agreement at that comment. Meanwhile, still on the staircase, Cindy's eyes grew wide at that statement. "Shut up, guys!" David told them. "I don't want you talking about my wife that way!" "We wouldn't mind gang-banging Cindy," Kris smirked. "GUYS!" David exploded. "STOP IT!" "Dave would probably like to watch us do her," Alex joked. "I've always thought you could find the most fascinating conversation while listening to men," Cindy remarked as she made her way back into the living room. All of the guys turned and looked at Cindy, their jaws almost touching the floor in sheer embarrassment. "Uhh... we're sorry, ma'am," Kris said apologetically. "We were just teasing your husband." "Ahh..." David struggled to find the right words. It was difficult, since Cindy had a mean expression upon her face. "Honey, would you like it if I sent my friends home?" Her arms folded, Cindy tapped a high-heeled foot upon the carpet while staring angrily at the group of men. "I've been real nice to all you guys, all afternoon, and this is the thanks I get for it? You compare me to some porno slut?" "We're sorry," Shawn told her. "As Kris said, we were just teasing. Nothing serious. Please, it was just a joke." Though angry on the outside, Cindy's insides were aglow with heat and excitement. No one had ever spoken about her, at least that she knew of, in such graphic terms. Those nasty words actually made her hot! "Oh?" she commented, her anger loosening up. "Was everything that you guys said just a joke?" All of the men looked at her quizically. David was the one who broke the silence. "What do you mean, honey?" The young wife shrugged her shoulders and replied, "What was it you guys said?... You want to... yeah, you want to gang-bang me? Right?" This time, everyone looked at her with shock. But the one most shocked was her husband, David. However, Kris broke the silence this time. "We'd love to gang-bang you." "KRIS!" David exploded, in pure rage. "Would you like that, honey?" Cindy asked her husband. "Would you like it if these guys gang-banged me?" David's demeanor changed from rage to stunned disbelief. He looked at his wife - amazed at what she said. "You probably would," Cindy quipped, "since you spent last weekend watching some gang-bang porno movie at Alex's house." She paused, surverying the stunned reactions around the living room. "I heard what you perverts said." "I'm gonna send these guys home," David said cooly. "You didn't answer my question!" Cindy remarked, raising her voice. "Would you like it if these guys gang-banged me?" "If you would like it, yes, I would," came the words from David's mouth. A second later, he could not believe he had said that. Cindy was HIS; she was his prize possession. But on the other hand, it had always been a deep-rooted fantasy of David's to watch Cindy get fucked by a group of men. He often thought of what the scene would look like, while watching adult movies of this particular genre. "If any of you guys want me, come and get me." The four guests looked at each other, then Cindy, then each other again. They were all shocked. However, Kris was the first one to take the initiative. He stood up and started walking over to her. "My pleasure, baby." David looked on in stunned silence as he watched Kris take Cindy into his arms and smother her mouth with a kiss. He saw a brief exchange of tongues, then looked at the other guys. They too, were staring at the scene in front of them in sheer amazement. David never imagined that he could sit idly by and watch another man kiss his beloved wife. Cindy whimpered and nearly melted in Kris' arms as the kiss grew stronger and deeper. Kris snaked a hand between their pressed bodies, and pawed away at one of her ample breasts, hidden underneath the tight top she still wore. Cindy squealed in arousal when Kris pinched one breast with a hand and used another to paw her bottom. When Kris grabbed Cindy's short-skirt and pulled it up, past her waist, everyone had a clear view of her perfect ass and the string bikini-panties which hid less than 5% of it. At this point, David jumped up and demanded, "Let her go, Kris! She is MY wife!" "Hush David," Cindy admonished him, while breaking the kiss. "You said if I wanted to, I could have sex with these guys. Now sit back and enjoy the show." Her mouth went back to Kris' for another passionate kiss. Defeated, David sat back down on the sofa. It was true. He did give her permission to carry on with these guys. His husbandly side was screaming at him, telling him to stop the scene before him from unfolding anymore. On the other hand, his erotic side was urging him to let it continue. Slowly, David's erotic side was gaining the advantage. Shawn got up and decided to join the action. He walked over to Cindy and Kris, who were still embracing one another with their lips locked. He nudged up behind Cindy and pressed his bulging crotch against her backside. The pretty blonde sighed at the initial contact, then moaned as Shawn wrapped his arms around her from behind. His hands came to rest on her massive breasts, and he cupped and squeezed both through the top she wore in repeated succession. Kris brought Cindy down to the floor with him, his lips still firmly attached to hers. He cupped her ass with his hands and pulled her body hard against his own, while kissing her deeper. Meanwhile, Shawn dropped to his knees behind Cindy, and thumbed her tiny bikini-panties down. He slipped her white high-heeled shoes off, then flicked both them and her bikini-panties away to the side. David quietly sat on the sofa, a mixture of wild emotions still running throughout him. That was his WIFE on the floor, getting worked over by two guys. But at the same time, his cock was as big as it had ever been. It was so erect and hard that it felt as though it would explode in his pants. As Shawn rubbed and caressed her supple ass from behind, Cindy broke the kiss with Kris and reached for his jeans. In a hurried rush, she unbuckled his belt and then pulled down his zipper. Her delicate hand dove inside his jeans, underneath his briefs, and gripped his rock-hard cock. Cindy squealed with delight as she pulled Kris' jeans and briefs down, exposing his massive erection. Soon, she grasped the base of his cock and then slipped its fat, juicy head between her moist red lips. Kris moaned in arousal as Cindy's blonde head started to bounce up and down over his erection. He looked down at her and smiled, then glanced over at David and grinned at him as well. "You're a very lucky man, Dave," Kris announced. "I'd give my right arm to have this lusty babe as my wife." On her hands and knees with her bottom perched in the air, Cindy gave Shawn ample access to her pussy. Behind her, Shawn parted her slick pussy lips with two fingers and then drove his tongue inside. In response, Cindy sighed in utter lust. She had never taken part in two-on-one sex before; this was definitely something new - and exciting. Shawn then grasped each side of Cindy's ass with his hands as he buried his lips and tongue in her moist pussy. Cindy glanced back at him for an instant, but immediately resumed sucking Kris' cock. "I can't wait until I get my hands on her," Alex said to himself, sitting on an adjacent chair. He had already undid his pants and was openly stroking his erection. On the other hand, Tyrone sat still and watched the action, but figured he would not get a piece of Cindy for himself. Tyrone was an African-American man, and though he had tried for years, no white woman ever wanted anything to do with him. Tyrone was very attracted to white women - especially ones with long blonde hair, like Cindy. But if no white female ever wanted to have anything to with him, why would Cindy be any different? That was Tyrone's line of thinking. He expected to just be a voyuer today. Nonetheless, Tyrone was enjoying the show before him. Cindy's head was bobbing up and down over Kris' cock at warp-speed, while her hips were wiggling back and forth in response to Shawn's oral work on her pussy. Neither Kris nor Shawn could believe what they were doing. They came over here to watch the football game with David, but instead were in the process of making love to his hot wife! Even more, David was watching the action, too! A loud chrous of moans and gasps were coming from the three individuals as the action got even more heated and passionate. Cindy was doing her best to swallow Kris' monster cock right down her greedy little throat. At the same time, Shawn was feasting on the sweet recesses of Cindy's juicy pussy. Kris had already come to the conclusion that Cindy was giving him the best blowjob of his entire life. No one had ever given him a blowjob any better than this one, and she wasn't even finished yet.However, Kris brought the blowjob to a close when he could no longer contain himself. His cock erupted in her mouth, filling it with gush after gush of thick sperm. Kris sighed deeply at the discharge, and was amazed at the same time by Cindy as she sucked and swallowed his fuck-juice down her hungry throat. Still getting her pussy eaten from behind, Cindy slipped Kris' shaft out of her mouth and lovingly licked away at it. Kris gasped at the sight of Cindy's beautiful face as streams of cum dripped and dangled from it. "Did you like that?" she squealed at him. "Oh yeah," he sighed in return. "Oh, I loved it, baby. That was the best fucking blowjob of my life!" Cindy smiled and giggled, happy to draw such praise for her sexual skills. "I'm gonna fuck that sweet pussy of yours," Shawn said, as he withdrew his lips and tongue from her slit. But just when he was about to get himself into the doggie-style position, Shawn was yanked away by Alex. Shawn looked at him, angry. "HEY MAN! What are you doing?" "You and Kris have already sampled her," Alex told him. "Now, it's my turn. You can fuck her later, but I'm going to fuck her NOW." Alex had already stripped off his shirt and pants, and his cock was at full erection. He dropped to his knees behind Cindy as she stood on her hands and knees, then fisted his cock and nudged it against her pussy. Cindy squealed at the sensation - this was the first time a cock other than David's had touched her pussy since they started dating more than six years ago. Alex grunted as he popped his erection into Cindy's tiny, slick pussy. In response, the young woman squealed again, surprised at the sensations swirling throughout her. Alex's cock was definitely bigger than her husband's, she thought to herself. As a result, Cindy was going to enjoy this. On an adjacent chair, Tyrone felt very jealous. For the first time in his life, he really wished that his skin color was white instead of black. He wanted to get a piece of Cindy for himself, but figured she would not go for it. After all, no white woman had ever been attracted to him. He figured that before the day was through, Cindy would take care of the other guys in the room - all of whom were white. Unfortunately, Tyrone figured, he would be left in the cold. Shawn sat still, fuming, as he watched while Alex started to pump his cock in and out of Cindy's pussy. He knew that should have been him fucking her now - not Alex. But Shawn knew that there were other parts of Cindy's body which he could explore and play with, while Alex pounded her pussy. Thus, Shawn crawled around until he was sitting in front of Cindy, who was still in the doggie-style position, her body rocking back and forth in tune with Alex's thrusting hips. Shawn reached underneath her, then palmed her large breasts with his hands. Cindy looked up at him and grunted, then offered a charming smile. "My, what a fine pair you have," Shawn said as he pulled the tight top up, exposing her large breasts. Shawn tilted his head and stared at the twin pair, liking the sight of an erect nipple topping each of them. Then, using his thumbs and index fingers, he pinched both nipples. Cindy squealed in passionate delight - she loved all this attention! As Shawn continued to pay homage to Cindy's breasts, Alex kept up the pace by pounding into her from behind. He had his hands firmly planted on her bottom as he thrusted his cock in and out of her pussy, in the classic doggie-style position. Alex drilled her with all of his strength, his hips pumping back and forth harder and faster than he even previously thought possible. David sat on the sofa, with the same stunned expression as before. His cock was so hard in his pants that it hurt. The repeated loud SLAPping sound, caused by Alex's heavy balls hitting Cindy's upturned ass, reverberated throughout David's ears and mind. Watching his beautiful, angel wife get hammered like this was the most exciting thing which had ever happened to him. "I'M GONNA CUM!" Cindy screamed as Alex continued pumping into her from behind, while Shawn still pinched her nipples. "CUM WITH ME!" Alex exclaimed. "LET'S CUM TOGETHER!" Both individuals roared out in unequaled passion as they experienced mutual orgasms. Alex pumped his thick seed into Cindy's willing pussy, mixing it with her own release. The two shuddered together in shared lust for several seconds, until Alex pulled away. Next, the 25-year-old woman collapsed upon the floor, her breathing ragged and heavy. As Shawn caressed Cindy's long, silky blonde hair, David finally got up from the sofa and rushed over to his wife. "Are you okay, sweetheart?" he insisted, fearful that she may be hurt. After all, she had collapsed upon the floor and was gasping for breath. He had never seen her this way after a sexual encounter. "I'm okay," Cindy managed, in response to his question. "But I'd feel a lot better if I could have some more cock!" David's jaw almost hit the floor because of her lewd comment. She usually did not talk that way. Cindy's head rose from the floor and she looked at her husband. "Hmmm, three guys have had me already. You have four friends here... which one am I missing?" She glanced around the room and gasped once her blue eyes found Tyrone. Tyrone gasped as well - due to the lust-ridden eyes which Cindy intently stared at him with. Was a beautiful white woman actually hot for him? "What do you think about white pussy?" Cindy squealed as she rose to her knees. She started moving toward Tyrone, a sexy smile on her face. "Have you ever had sex with a white woman before?" Suddenly, Tyrone's cock was bigger than it ever had been before. He never dreamed of that this scenario would take place for real - not even in his wildest fantasies. "Ma'am," the polite-sounding man said. "I've never been with a white girl before - sexually speaking." Still walking on her knees toward him, Cindy flashed a charming smile and said, "Would you like to?" "HONEY!" David exclaimed. "You want to have sex with Tyrone, too?" "Why not?" Cindy giggled. "I've always had a thing for black men." She made her way up to Tyrone and stared directly into his eyes. "I find black men... ATTRACTIVE." Tyrone gasped in utter shock at her comment. "I... I... I'd love to have sex with you..." he mumbled. Tyrone's body stiffened and he sighed as Cindy reached for his belt buckle and unlooped it. She whipped his belt off, then nearly tore open his trousers. With her right hand, she fished his erect shaft out from within a pair of boxers, and squeezed it. "Oooooh, black cock..." Cindy squealed as she eyed and held the huge monster. The young woman gave the tip of his shaft a lick and added, "I've always wanted a black cock..." All of the other men in the room watched with amazement as Cindy's mouth opened and then closed over Tyrone's giant cock. They had never witnessed interracial sex before, but were quickly becoming a fan of it. Of particular interest was the strict contrast of Cindy's white face and blonde hair as they hovered over Tyrone's throbbing black shaft. The extreme contrast in color nearly blew the men away. For the longest time, Tyrone had dreamed of one day having sex with a beautiful white woman - especially one with long blonde hair. Now, that dream was quickly becoming a definite reality for him. Tyrone sighed in lust as Cindy worked his shaft over with her fabulous mouth and tongue. She sucked and slurped away at his slab of man-meat as if it was her sole purpose in life. Tyrone reached down and placed his hand on top of her head, then lovingly caressed her long blonde hair as she bobbed up and down over his massive member. While twirling his testicles between her fingertips, Cindy looked up into Tyrone's eyes and smiled as she continued sucking him off. Tyrone grinned at her in return, then shook his head in wonder. Cindy was his "dream girl". There was no doubt about it. "I want you to fuck me," the young lady squealed, rising to her feet and then settling down in his lap. Tyrone's heartbeat went into extreme overdrive as Cindy positioned his cock over her heated pussy. The other men watched with awe as Tyrone's black shaft slid up between the folds of Cindy's white thighs. The blonde let out a squeal once the cock was in her all the way, then she wrapped her arms around Tyrone's neck and vibrated in lust. In no time flat, Cindy was bouncing up and down upon Tyrone's prick. Their rhythmic fucking started slow, but steadily grew faster and harder. Tyrone had his hands at Cindy's waist, grasping it, while she continued to ride him. The others could easily see that the man's massive cock stretched Cindy's pussy lips to the absolute max. David wondered to himself if such a large cock would hurt her... but apparently not. He could tell by the lustful expression upon her face that Cindy was enjoying every single moment of having Tyrone's huge cock stuffed in her pussy. The intense action between the two lust-lovers hit a fever pitch, then things started to slow down. Tyrone screamed at the very top of his lungs while jettisoning a fresh batch of cum into Cindy's hungry pussy. In response, the wife-turned-slut buried her face against Tyrone's shoulder and shuddered, experiencing an orgasm of her own. "HONEY!" David exclaimed seconds later, once his wife finally slipped out of Tyrone's lap. "HONEY!" Not only was Cindy's face covered with sperm, but it was also sliding down her tanned thighs like a waterfall. "Honey, I didn't know that you had that type of sexual appetite!" Cindy giggled and shrugged her shoulders. "I didn't either... until now." She let out a content sigh. David looked at his wristwatch. "You only got an hour or so until the audition starts. I know you really need this part..."but there's no way you could make it there in time. Look at you... you're a mess! You have to wash up! "Screw the audition!" Cindy exclaimed, dropping to her knees in front of David. She reached for his pants and undid them, saying, "Who needs a job when they could fuck five hot studs instead?" Giggling with lust, Cindy slid David's hard cock between her lips and started sucking on it eagerly. - / - Instead of watching football, David's friends knew they had something better to do on Sunday afternoons from now on.

M+/F, gang-bang, cons

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/8124.txt

Corn53

Marie Calri-Wrogn School, pt 4 (REVSD)

"Let me try it," said Brian, "I bet I can get my finger in all the way the first time." Everyone quieted down while he pushed his finger in all the way. "Ummmggh," said Marie Clair, beginning a rhythmic squeezing with her anus in attempts to block his finger. "I could feel when she tried to squeeze it shut, like she was trying to hold my finger. Then each time she relaxed between squeezes, I pushed in farther. It was easy," bragged Brian. Then all the boys tried it. The grown-ups had lots of ideas for the already enthusiastic youngsters. "Brian, see if you can hold your hand perfectly still with two fingers in her pussy. Pull the folding chair over here and hold your elbow against it. Keep your weight on the chair and don't let it move while we try this. Cross your first two fingers like this," and he demonstrated crossing his two fingers with the index finger under the longer middle finger. "Billy, you like to play the drums. While Brian holds his fingers in her, you can try to play a slow, steady rhythm with this paddle." Brian inserted his fingers into her. He pushed slowly because it was a tight fit with two fingers, but fortunately she was very slippery. When Brian's fingers were all the way in, and his elbow braced against the top of the chair, Mr. Long nodded for Billy to give the first spank with the paddle. When the paddle smacked her fanny, Marie Clair tightened and hunched her hips forward - sliding almost off Brian's fingers. Then as she started to relax again, she started to slide back onto his fingers and stopped. "I have an idea," said Mr. Long. "After each spank, when she hunches forward, we'll see how long it takes for her to slide all the way back onto Brian's finger. If it takes too long, give her a really hard one. Ok, Billy?" "I'm ready." "Now, not too hard. We'll see if she flinches all the way forward with a medium spank. Then if she doesn't slide back quick enough, give her a really hard one." "Ready," said Billy. Mr. Long nodded again and Billy smacked her bare bottom. She tightened, sliding forward again, then settled back onto Brian's fingers faster this time, after hearing him explain about the possible harder spanks. "That was better, wasn't it kids?" "Yes, they agreed." Brian added, "She still didn't slide all the way back down though." "Try it again. Smack her, Billy." SMACK! She flinched all the way forward and slid all the way back down onto Brian's finger. She even wiggled her bottom as she slid down, trying to go as far on as possible. As the speed picked up, Brian noticed she was sliding back onto his finger faster. Within a minute, she was into a steady up and back rhythm, almost anticipating the spanks. Brian could tell she was even slipperier. Mr. Long silently signaled for Billy to stop the rhythmic spanks, but Marie Clair went up and back two more times. She finally stopped when she heard the kids and some of the grown-ups start to laugh. They 'tricked' her like this several more times, spanking for a minute and stopping - laughing when she continued to slide up and back even though the spanking stopped. The third time they tricked her, she continued to slide up and back on Brian's fingers even though they were all laughing. She even picked up speed and wiggled more as she backed into Brian's fingers. The other boys wanted to try two fingers, too. Each time they changed places and adjusted the chair, Marie Clair began sliding as soon as someone put their fingers in her. They didn't even have to spank her. The kids were enjoying this game. "See if one of you can use the 'tickler' while you take turns on both holes. Bet you can't do it," dared one of the other adults, while adjusting his pants. On the third time two fingers were in at once while she was being tickled, Marie almost lifted the table she twitched so hard, moaning. Inga gently pushed aside the vibrator and told the two children to hold still, leaving their fingers in her. With the camera zoomed in and the entire room quiet, all the adults vicariously enjoyed Marie Clair's first - and very intense - orgasm. The children who unwittingly precipitated this event didn't appreciate the significance, but did comment on the "squeezes" she was making for over a minute. Restrained, in the midst of a public spanking, blindfolded and embarrassed - were all factors she now associated with intense sexual pleasure. "Maybe we'd better stop for a few minutes, boys, and let her rest," suggested Inga. A couple of the other adult women concurred, and the boys headed towards her bra. "Brian, take your friends to the bathroom first and wash your hands. We'll be having some ice cream and cake in a few minutes," said Mrs. Hardman. The boys returned so quickly that Marie Clair heard several adults chuckle comments that they couldn't have washed very well. "Get under the table, boys, and see if you can unsnap her bra in the front," said Mr. Long. "But don't touch her titties yet. I want to show you something." They had some difficulty trying to unfasten it, but their determination eventually succeeded. The elastic pulled the bra up to the back of her neck to hang over the backs of her outstretched arms. Mr. Long knelt beside the table to explain about Marie Clair's breasts. "Our next anatomy lesson will focus on her breasts. Look closely and you'll see that the pink part in front looks soft and rounded. Those are her nipples. Watch this one while I massage and pinch it." While he fondled her right breast, he explained to the boys that the nipple was getting harder and pretty soon the little bump on the tip would stick out. "They look kind of soft like marshmallows until you get her excited," as he patted Marie Clair. When he removed his hand, they could all see the difference and were eager to try for themselves. "No, just watch a minute and the other one will firm up, too. Even if you just blow on it, it might stand out for you in anticipation." The boys started blowing before he finished his sentence, betraying their own excitement. The older Brian had been adjusting his trousers as he sat under the table, aware that other things were stiffening up, too, besides just Marie Clair's tits. He didn't know it, but all the adults in the room were noticing bodily changes of their own. Heather wanted to feel them, too, which was fine with her mom. Heather also felt the barely noticeable bumps in her own blouse. Several adults asked the boys to have fun with Marie Clair's titties, but not to pinch too hard. "Try to describe what they feel like. If her titties were fruit, what type of fruit would match their size?" Marie Clair cringed as Heather and the boys discussed her attributes. Thinking of others seeing the video tape - with close-ups of her private parts and her begging for harder spanks, and her very visible wetness, all adding to her embarrassment. ICE CREAM AND CAKE... AND GAMES "Ladies and Gentlemen. Boys and Girls, ice cream and cake is served. You kids sit over here and watch while we unfasten Marie Clair's arms for a few minutes. She may need to go to the bathroom after drinking all that pop at dinner," announced Mrs. Hardman to the world. While people were changing places and setting up some folding chairs nearby, Mrs Hardman whispered in Marie Clair's ear to see if indeed she did need to go to the bathroom. "Ummmgh, ummm," which Mrs. Hardman interpreted as "Yes, Ma'am." "Inga, bring it in," ordered Mrs. Hardman while two men unfastened her arms and helped her stand up, but they still restrained her hands. They did not unfasten her feet. Marie Clair felt herself being lowered onto a seat right there in the living room. "Hold her knees apart. If you kids want to watch her pee, you can come over in front," said Mrs. Hardman. Marie Clair heard the five of them come over to sit under the table, very close to her. "OK, Marie Clair, You can go now." "Unnggh. Unnnn," She wiggled as the pressure on her bladder mounted in her upright position. She was thinking how much better she would feel once she had gone. "There's no way I could be any more embarrassed than I already have been," she was thinking to herself. So she finally went ahead and started peeing with her knees held apart on the little portable toilet and two men holding her arms out. Then she farted! How embarrassing!As the pee started again, she farted again. The children were roaring with laughter as she finished and squeezed out the last drops with another fart. When the laughter subsided, Dr. Hardman continued his instruction, "When you put your fingers into her bottom, some air got pushed in. That's why she farted. So don't laugh too much, it's not her fault. Now we'll wipe her off with warm washcloths and dry her." After she was cleaned, they helped her stand again, feet still wide apart, fastened to the table legs. "If any of you kids want to feel her some more while she's standing up, go ahead. Notice how her breasts stick out like lemons while she is standing? She doesn't really need a bra to support them, does she?" The boys laughed in agreement and began to feel her. "Look, her pink nipples are getting stiff again. She must like this," observed Brian. Heather's small fingers felt different to Marie Clair, but there was no way to object, as Heather experimented with one then the other breast - squeezing, lifting and letting it drop, twisting and pinching the nipple. Marie Clair moaned in spite of herself. They led her back from the table, taking wide steps, unable to get one foot within 2 1/2 feet of the other. She was able to take short forward steps by leaning her weight to the side and hopping the other foot forward. The kids laughed as she practiced, noting how her breasts jiggled. "Ungggh unghhnnn," she tried to say something through her gag, which only brought more imitations and laughter from the children. "Maybe she needs some spankings to speed her up," suggested Brian, laughing to the point of coughing. "That might help her learn faster," agreed one of the adults. "But let's have our ice cream and cake first." Two of the men helped Marie Clair sit down. Then they laid her back onto some pillows so the bar would not hurt her back. "OK, kids. Anybody want to eat some icing off the 'Little Marie' table?" and Marie Clair felt someone put a spoonful of icing on each nipple. "We'll wipe her off after each person gets done so you won't get any germs," and then he put a dab of icing into her belly button and another on her thigh. "We'll put icing on different spots on the birthday girl and you can lick it off. A 'Living Birthday Cake!'" "Can I do it, too?" asked Heather. "I want to try it. Can I eat her belly button? Please, please. I want to play, too." "Well, of course, Dear," answered Heather's Mom and Mrs. Hardman at the same time, laughing, "Settle down, you'll get plenty of time to play with our birthday girl." For the next five minutes Marie Clair could feel the kids eating the icing off her. She was quickly wiped off as each spot was licked clean, and another dab was placed somewhere else. Marie Clair was wiggling around as the tongues tickled her tummy, legs, breasts, and neck. She could not tell who was who but hoped she would get to see the video later. The dabs near her lower tummy kept getting placed closer to her mound - then on the top of her slit. She tried to sit up but couldn't get her balance because one of the kids kept wanting to eat icing off her neck, chin and even her lips which were still stretched over the rubber ball with the strap through it. All the kids were enjoying themselves and the adults enjoyed watching. One of the boys kept licking lower and lower on her slit. Heather was now playing with one of her breasts with her fingers and tongue. "OK, kids. Let's stand her up now and watch her practice walking." Marie Clair could take short, hopping steps. She waited several seconds between each step, wondering why she heard the table being rolled away. "Brian, since you had the idea of how to speed her up, take this paddle and we'll all see if your idea works," suggested Mrs. Hardman. With a gleam in his eye, Brian took the paddle and walked over behind her. Marie Clair stood up straighter trying to tell by sound where he was standing. SMACK! right on her fanny. SMACK! SMACK! two more hard ones in the same spot sent her in a hopping gallop with her feet hardly staying on the ground. The crowd applauded Brian's training methods. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! and she was practically running in a wide circle, unable to get away from Brian who was spurred on by the laughter and clapping of the audience. Brian stopped spanking for a moment and she slowed down, trying to guess where he was. Everyone got quiet as she slowly turned around in the center of the floor, her pigtails flipping back and forth as she turned her head - listening. With her feet tied 30 inches apart, she leaned her head forward, bending her knees - ready to run - not realizing she was also sticking her fanny out. Brian was smiling broadly, two feet away - with the paddle raised in ambush, as she unknowingly turned her extended bottom right towards him. SMACK! SMACK! and he followed her around the floor, walking quickly, while she tried to get away again. The crowd cheered as he spanked her about every five seconds, speeding her up each time. "Stop now, Marie Clair," commanded Brian, a man in charge, "Heather likes to see your breasts bounce. Hop up and down to make them jiggle while I rest." The tired gladiator hopped slowly up and down while Brian put his hands on her hips to turn her to face Heather and most of the crowd. "Higher and faster, or I will have to spank!" She speeded up a little bit at the threat - but not enough for Brian. SMACK - and she started hopping much higher and faster, pleasing the cheering crowd as her firm breasts bounced. Heather tried in vain to make hers bounce while sitting on the edge of the chair, fidgeting more than usual. "OK, now stand still and move your shoulders back and forth to make them bounce sideways." She did this as fast as possible to avoid another swat. More applause for the ingenious Brian, a real crowd pleaser. "Let's let her rest a minute," Mr. Long finally interceded. "Maybe the other children would like to help you 'train' her," said Mrs. Hardman. "You can give her some more 'standing up' spankings - front and back, while she tries to walk around. Now, how does she like them, kids - hard or soft?" "Hard!" answered all the kids at once. They ran to get their favorite paddles, belts, and so forth. Heather grabbed the belt which worried some of the other would-be spankers who admired her enthusiasm, but did not trust her aim. Two men led Marie Clair back to the center of the room and moved the remaining chairs and other furniture out of the way. Men stood every few yards around the ring so she wouldn't run into furniture. Dr Hardman announced, "Brian gets credit for the hardest spank so far. Can anyone beat him?" Robby got back just as the men let go of her and smacked her pubic mound with the stir stick. As she hobbled to turn around, he smacked her harder on the fanny with the wooden paddle. He had a paddle in each hand! As she tried to hobble away, she felt the belt slap the back of her leg just above the knee. "Maybe we'd better just let 2 kids spank at a time," suggested Dr. Hardman - his request an order. Mr. Long became the judge and timer, letting Robby and Heather go first. Mr. Jones was the camera operator. Heather's next swing with the belt hit her on the side of the hip as she turned so that the tip of the belt smacked directly onto her pussy, which bent Marie Clair over. As she bent over, the finally smiling Robby smacked her fanny with the riding crop - standing her quickly back up. The adults and kids all laughed as Marie Clair hobbled around, making her lemon-shaped breasts jiggle and bounce. After 3 minutes of spanking, the referee said to stop and to go kiss and rub the birthday girl. Of course Heather liked the 'kiss' idea and went right for her breasts - just below her mouth level. Robby fondled the one she was not kissing. Brian walked out and asked if he could check her wetness - "to be sure she's enjoying this." The adults looked at each other and then nodded in silent permission. Reaching between her legs from behind, his finger slipped all the way into her pussy - no resistance at all. "She likes this game," he announced sagely, holding up a glistening, wet finger to the crowd awaiting his verdict. Applause and laughter. "Three Cheers for Marie Clair!" said Mr. Long. "And three cheers for the helpful spankers!" said several grown-ups. "See, the kids are learning a lot playing this game," commented one of the parents. "And I'm glad Marie Clair is enjoying her role, too." "The next two spankers are Billy and Nick. Are you ready, boys?" asked Mr. Long. "No, I'm waiting for the belt," said Nick. "Here it is," offered Heather. "But can I test her wetness before I sit down? Please, I want to test her, too." "Sure, Honey," answered Mrs. Hardman and her mom at the same time. Heather started fingering Marie Clair with gusto - slipping two fingers at once into the stationary Marie Clair."Bet that feels good, doesn't it, Marie Clair?" chided Nick as he tested a short piece of the belt on her fanny. "Don't be mean, Nick," warned his mother. "But she said in the video that she likes it hard," protested Nick with a wicked grin. "And I bet I can spank harder than Brian." Laughing in agreement, "You're right, Honey. Spank her as hard as you want." "Go!" said the referee. SMACK went the belt across the tops of the backs of Marie Clair's legs. And less than a second later, the riding crop smacked her bare pubic mound in an upward blow. Marie Clair began hopping and turning as the boys gleefully spanked her, thinking her noises expressed pleasure. The belt continued to strike the backs, sides, and fronts of her legs from her knees on up, sometimes wrapping to the inside. The stinging blows also hit her fanny, and sometimes the tip of the belt stung the front of her pussy. The crowd was laughing as Marie Clair jumped around, hobbled by the two poles attached to ankles and wrists. "Look how her titties jiggle, Mommy," giggled Heather. "She is so funny." "Break!" interrupted the referee after just two minutes. "But that wasn't three minutes," objected Nick's mother. "Start all over." The red lines around her legs and fanny and across her lower tummy showed everyone where the blows had been landing. "OK. They can have another two minutes with different paddles," said the referee, "But first they might want to let her rest while they check her wetness." Mr. Long wanted to give her time to catch her breath. "Marie Clair, try to squat down and open your legs for the boys. That's a good birthday girl," as she spread her knees, hunching her pussy forward for their easy inspection. She wanted them to keep inspecting her for two reasons, even though she would only have admitted to one. Her perspiration mingled with her perfume, giving off a sweet aroma. Her whole body glistened with her sweat, and there was also a slippery trail of thicker wetness down the insides of her legs. Mr. Long had an idea for making things a little easier for the nervous contestant. "Boy, this is fun, Nick. Isn't it?" as they each inserted a finger into her slippery pussy at the same time - for a very tight fit. "Help me kneel her down. Why don't you do some softer front spanks while she puts her head and shoulders down on this pillow with her fanny up in the air?" "Sure," said the boys. "Well, I would rather just feel her titties some more anyway," said Billy. "Let me give the birthday girl her choice," said Mr. Long. "If you want some gentle 'front spanks' and want Billy to feel your titties instead of spanking you, just lean forward and put your head on the pillows. If you want them to see how hard they can spank you for a few more minutes, then stand up." With that, she knelt down immediately. Nick looked at her upturned fanny and changed his mind. "I would rather put my fingers in her holes instead of spanking her." Mr. Long thought this over. "I'll ask the birthday girl again." Then to Marie Clair, "If you would rather have Nick put his fingers in you instead of giving you a front spanking, then put your knees farther apart." And - her knees slid wider apart on the wood floor as she arched her back, tilting her 'holes' up for easier access. "I want to, too, Mommy. Please. Can I finger her again?" "You already had a turn, but maybe Nick will let you do a few for him." "No," said Nick. "I want to do all fourteen in each hole myself." Then during the break, while the crowd was ordering more drinks from Inga, Heather whispered something into Nick's ear. Billy was happily fondling Marie Clair's firm, young breasts as the crowd refocused on the next round of fun after getting their drinks. "I'm going to show Heather how to put her fingers into the birthday girl, Mom. She hasn't tested Marie's fanny yet. Ahem, Marie Clair, listen up," trying to sound like a grown-up, "I want to show Heather how to put a finger in your fanny. Your challenge is to squeeze so tight that I can't put my finger in to show her. But first I'm going to put lots of your juice in, so relax while I do that. Put your knees a little farther apart if you accept my challenge." Marie put her knees even farther apart, arching her back more so that her chest was completely on the floor. Mr. Long fluffed the pillows under her hands so the bar would not press into her back, while Nick dipped out some of her lubricant and began pushing it into her bottom - until his finger slipped easily in and out. "OK, now try to squeeze so hard that I won't be able to get my finger in. Wiggle your ass if you're ready." Marie Clair wiggled her fanny back and forth, then tightened her anus as tight as she could and waited. Nick got his finger wet again, let her wait a moment, placed his fingertip on her puckered anus, and then pushed slowly in - all the way, while turning his hand back and forth slowly as he pressed. "See Heather, that's how you do it," explained the triumphant Nick. The audience clapped and laughed again as Heather got her fingers wet and tried first with one finger - then two, while Nick probed the front hole. When the children had finished, Mr. Long and Inga helped Marie Clair stand up. Mr. Long asked, "Marie Clair, if I unfasten your feet and wrists, and take off your gag, will you promise not to talk? Then Inga will take you upstairs and help you clean up so you can come back downstairs to your party. Nod your head if this is OK." She nodded her head enthusiastically. They unfastened the two bars and took off the gag. Inga wiped off her mouth with a warm washcloth. Marie Clair rotated her jaw to relax the tired muscles... then she smiled. The guests told her to hurry back down. Dr. Hardman promised no more spankings tonight as long as she did not talk, kept her blindfold on, and did whatever any of the guests wanted to do. The blindfolded birthday girl nodded without hesitation and was still smiling as Inga led her upstairs. The children took the ankle and wrist straps and the two wood rods downstairs to play while the adults fixed themselves another drink and watched the video again. Meanwhile, Inga finally took off Marie Clair's blindfold in her upstairs bedroom and began to wash her off gently with cool washcloths. She put soothing lotion on her reddened fanny and the backs of her thighs. "Lay back on the bed with your knees up so you won't put any weight on your sore bottom, Honey. Now scoot towards the edge of the bed so I can kiss your tender pussy and make it feel better." Marie Clair still had not spoken but did as directed, seemingly lost in a dream world. Inga heard the barely audible motor whirr of the bedroom security camera as it adjusted to zoom in on her soothing kisses. After a moment, Inga asked her if she wanted to go back down to the party or if she would rather just go to bed. Finally speaking, Marie Clair said, "I want to go back to the party, Inga. And thanks for kissing me there. It feels better now." "Are you enjoying your birthday party?" "Yes. Some of the spankings were too hard. But it was fun playing with the other kids, after I got used to the blindfold. I was really embarrassed at first, but they all seemed to think I was pretty, and they liked playing with me. I got lots better at the games, too, didn't I?" "You are pretty, Marie Clair. You did great at the games. You're a good sport, especially the way you pretended to like getting tickled with your new vibrator. And the finger game - you were really good at that - front and back." "Thanks, Inga. I tried to slide on the fingers as fast as I could!" "I know the adults, and maybe even the kids will want to kiss you goodnight. Since your bottom is sore, you'd better just wear the top of your nightie, OK?" "Well, I guess they already saw everything," still speaking softly, "and I want to go back to the party. I didn't get any ice cream and cake yet." Inga laughed at this. So did the adults who had switched the big living room TV to the security system. She was blindfolded again and led back downstairs. All the adults wanted to kiss her and wish her a "Happy Birthday." She ate the ice cream and cake standing up, which some of the adults found amusing. Her new, sheer nightie reached to just below her belly button. Everyone inspected her fanny and agreed that in a few days there would be no traces of the birthday party. PLEASE COME AGAIN As the guests left, Marie Clair invited each one to come over and play with her. Mrs. Hardman reminded her of her role as household servant and that she would have to "wait on them." "Oh, yes, Ma'am. I'll do whatever they say. I want them to come and play with me." And, conscious of her blindfold, she said to the parting guests, "I really want to see you." more to come...

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11379.txt

FirmHand23

Gabrielle's Next Spanking

"Come in, Gabrielle." As I open the door, you see me dressed in my white shirt and tie, standing erect but relaxed as I watch you cross my threshold. The threshold you both fear and love to cross. The lights are dimmed, and there is soft music playing; you think it might be Handel's Water Music. I direct you to my study, where I invite you to please sit in the large leather upholstered chair in front of my large mahogany desk. I watch as you sit and settle comfortably in the chair, demurely crossing your pretty legs and adjusting your dress so you don't reveal too much of your thighs. "Now then, my dear Gabrielle, I understand there was a little to-do after the barbecue the other night," I begin as I take my seat in the executive swivel chair behind the desk. "Why don't you tell me all about it," I say evenly, with a small, friendly smile as I steeple my fingers over my lips. I notice your pupils dilate with the shock that I already know about the incident. You were planning on minimizing your involvement and putting the best spin on the story you could, hoping to deceive me into inflicting a lighter punishment. But now... "Skinny dipping in the pool?" I ask incredulously. "You mean you have nothing more to confess to me than that? I think you'd better tell me the whole truth, young lady. Things such as with whom, and what did you do while skinny dipping? And afterwards? I want the WHOLE story." I watch as you sit there, squirming in the big chair, shifting and re-crossing your legs. You look down as your hands keep fidgeting. "Well? I have all the time in the world. But not all the patience in the world. You know you've already earned yourself a spanking. Do you want to earn extra by making me wait?" "No, Sir, please, I don't want any extra spankings. I'll tell you everything!" I'm amazed that you aren't more upset! There really isn't all that much more to tell. It's not like we had an orgy or something. I relax slightly and begin my tale. "A few of us stayed at the pool after the barbecue ended, just talking and enjoying the starry night. After a while, someone suggested we go for a swim. And someone else immediately suggested skinny dipping. I looked at Angie and shook my head. I really didn't want to get my hair wet so late at night. She just grinned and said 'I'll go, but I think you're going to have to persuade Gabrielle.' So someone offered to cook us dinner the next night. Well, Sir, this is an offer I couldn't refuse...he's a gourmet chef who owns a trendy little restaurant on Melrose and I knew the dinner would be fabulous. So I agreed to a swim." I pause and look over at you. You do not look amused. My heart sinks, and I continue a little less certainly. "So we went swimming...and then we went home." I look over at you again... and wish I could disappear. "HE'S a gourmet cook?" I ask with raised eyebrows. "You went skinny dipping with a MAN?" You slink down in your chair, your hands in your lap now still. You can't look me in the eye. "Gabrielle, Gabrielle....do you know how that makes me feel? You're mine, as you know. No other men are supposed to see your private parts. Especially the parts I have to punish when you behave so naughtily." I pause to let the import of my words sink in. "Now tell me, did anyone touch your bare skin during this incident? Did you touch anyone? Tell me the truth, little Gabrielle. I'll know if you're lying," I say softly but firmly. I arise from my chair and begin removing my tie and rolling up my sleeves as I wait for your reply.I give a gentle tug and you pull yourself out of the chair to a standing position. You self-consciously pull down at the hem of your dress. "Don't fuss with your dress, Gabrielle. It won't be in that position for very much longer," I tell you. "Place your hands behind your back and spread your legs as you've been taught," I command. You quickly snap into position, not wanting to anger me further. I begin to raise your sundress to your waist as I begin my lecture. I see you are wearing your panties, but no pantyhose. 'Good girl,' I think...at least she obeyed THAT instruction. I can feel the strength in your hand as you help me to my feet, the same hand that will soon be spanking my bare bottom. I clasp my hands tightly together behind my back as I spread my legs...I know from experience that the slightest disobedience during my punishment will be dealt with severely...sometimes more severely than the original punishment. I don't know why I get myself in these predicaments...I really do want to be a good girl and please you. As you begin to lecture me, you lift my dress and stare at my panties...I try not to squirm in embarrassment. I can feel myself blushing under your scrutiny...I try to ignore your eyes and listen to your words. You feel me raising your sundress, slowly tucking it in at your waist so it will leave your behind exposed. "Does my little girl know why she's here?" I ask. "Y...yes, Sir. I've been a bad girl," you stutter, keeping your head bowed. "And why else, Miss?" "Because I didn't tell you the whole truth at first, Sir," you confess. "And what should be done about this situation that seems to keep repeating itself with you?" "Maybe a good lecture and confinement to my room for a day, Sir?" you ask plaintively, hoping to dissuade me from the more severe option. "Oh, come now, Gabrielle. You know much better than that. You know what naughty girls like you always get for such offenses. Now tell me," I reply with a smirk of derision at your feeble attempt to skirt the inevitable. "I...I deserve...a spanking, Sir," you choke out. I notice your eyes are getting watery, but it has no effect on the punishment I've decided for you. "But please, Sir, don't spank me too hard. Please, Sir. I'm really sorry. It won't happen again, Sir. Please believe me!" "Stop your begging, Gabrielle," I reply evenly. "You've already admitted you've done wrong and that you need your bare bottom warmed. Begging will only cause me to believe you didn't really mean you're sorry." Your eyes meet mine for a second, then revert back to staring at the carpet in front of you. "You know what you have to do. Now do it!" I command. With a sigh and a hard swallow, you look up at me and say in an unsteady voice, "Please give me my spanking, Sir." "And how do you want your spanking, little Miss?" "Please spank me bare, Sir. I deserve it," you reply in resignation, knowing your submission to me has already begun. "Very well, Gabrielle. Pull down your panties. And be quick about it!" I command sharply. You look up at me suddenly, as if you hadn't realized before that your panties would have to be taken down to be spanked on the bare. But I was the one who always lowered them before. Your face blushes pink as you are forced to bare yourself to me. You hook your thumbs inside the elastic of your pretty panties and after the slightest hesitation, you close your eyes and pull them down until they are stretched across the middle of your thighs. I quickly clasp my hands behind my back again, knowing that failure to do so will have consequences. I'm afraid to open my eyes. I hear a funny noise and realize my breath is coming in short little gasps. I take a few deep cleansing breaths, and open my eyes. Another deep cleansing breath, and I slowly raise my head to look up at you. You're calmly watching me, apparently amused by my embarrassment. Squirming under your gaze, I drop my head in shame. You usually take your time inspecting me and preparing me to be spanked...sometimes the humiliation is worse than the actual spanking. I wish this was over with...I want you to hug me and tell me you forgive me. One more deep cleansing breath, and I summon all my courage to ask... "Please, Sir, please, will you spank my bare bottom now?" As you stand there, I clear off my desk, making it clear what I'm planning to do. I carefully take all the papers, knickknacks, lamp, coffee cup and place them on the credenza behind it. I open the drapes wide, and you can see the lights in some apartment buildings not too far away. You wonder if any of the apartment dwellers have telescopes. "It's time for your spanking now, Gabrielle. Please remove all your clothes and fold them neatly for me like a doll, would you?" You kick off your sandals as you bring your hands forward and slowly begin unbuttoning your eyelet. Soon I can see the cups of your white lacy bra come into view, then become the only thing left on top as you slide it over your shoulders and off. Folding it neatly, you hand it to me with both hands. I watch as you reach back to unclasp your bra, which forces your pretty breasts out front. As the bra falls away, I see the pink hardness of your nipples as they rise and blush, in response to the cool air and my gaze. After handing it to me, I watch as you remove your sundress and pull your cotton panties down all the way to your ankles, stepping out of them hesitantly. You know you have no defenses left, don't you? Immediately after handing me the last articles of clothing, you spread your legs and clasp your hands behind your back once again like the obedient little penitent you are. "Approach the desk and bend over it, Gabrielle," I tell you in a no-nonsense voice. I see you lick your dry lips as you step over to the dark flat surface. You snuggle your pelvis up to the edge and spread your legs. With a deep sigh, you lower your upper torso to meet the desk top. I watch from the side as first your nipple tips touch the cold surface, then your breasts flatten as your weight comes to rest. You place your arms behind your back as you've done in the past. But I know that something more is needed this time. "For this spanking, I'm going to have you extend your arms in front of you. Try to grip the opposite edge for me," I tell you. Your fingers just about make it to the edge. I take a moment to look at your attractive body spread before me, waiting for my punishment. I'm so lucky to have you, I think to myself. I watch you prepare the desk for my spanking, amazed that you acquiesced to my request. And all I had to do was ask nicely. True, I'm about to get my bare bottom spanked, but that was going to happen anyway. Hmmmm. As I slowly undress, I wonder why you opened the drapes. Do you want me to expose myself to your neighbors? The thought strikes me as so funny that I have to bite my lip to avoid giggling. I continue to undress slowly, enjoying the approval I see in your eyes. I keep my own eyes lowered, well aware of the danger of letting you see my surprising lack of repentance. Ohhh...I don't like your desk. It's hard and cold and it mashes my breasts. I wish I'd remembered to ask you to turn me over your knee...oh well, next time. I can barely reach the edge of your desk. I wonder why you have such a big desk. Not being big enough to reach makes me feel like a little girl, and I feel some of my willfulness slipping away. I stretch further across the desk, and can feel the opposite end cutting into my pelvis. Without saying a word, you gently raise my hips and slip a folded towel between the sharp edge of the desk and my pelvis, providing a cushion of sorts. "Thank you, Sir," I say gratefully, and try again to stretch far enough to grip the edge of your large mahogany desk. You look so small and vulnerable spread eagle over my desk. I gently reposition you so you are tight up against the desk, legs properly spread, nipples pressed onto the surface. I know how hard you're trying to please me....if only to avoid a harder spanking. You wonder why I haven't begun yet. Your unasked question is answered when you see me approach with some black leather straps. "These are wrist and ankle cuffs, Kitten," I explain. "Last time you really squirmed a lot, and I think I can expect the same reaction from you this time. So, I'm going to secure you to the desk-cum-spanking-bench with these." Your eyes are wide as you follow me around the desk. You do not resist, nor do you pull away as I fasten the wide, soft, black leather straps around each wrist, then tie them with white cotton rope to eye hooks I recently installed on the bottom of my side of the desk. Your arms are pulled apart, but not stretched, so you're still somewhat comfortable. I come around and attach the cuffs to your ankles, and similarly tie them wide apart to eye hooks you never noticed at the bottom sides of the desk. If you were restrained this way in a vertical position, your body would have the shape of a big "X". I walk over to the light switch and dim down the lights to a soft glow. I walk over to your left side and tell you to turn and face me. Your head rolls to your left, facing me. I gently clear the hair from your eyes and smooth it down onto your shoulders. "Is Gabrielle ready for her spanking?" I ask in a low voice. "Yes, Sir," you say with more confidence than I had anticipated. Could it be that you've come to realize that this is exactly what you want? And not only need? I place my right hand in front of your face, palm forward, fingers extended. You lean forward as much as your bonds allow, and plant a soft kiss right in the middle of my palm. I can't be sure, but I think I felt just the tip of your tongue touch my callused skin. I take my position to your side.I lay my warm right hand across both your quivering cheeks, as my left hand presses down firmly on the small of your back, just above your bare buttocks. I watch silently as you fasten the cuffs around my wrists. I feel my will slip away and have no desire to protest or try to stop you. As you move to attach the rope to the bottom of the desk, I realize how much trouble you've gone to for me. You must think I'm very special... I know my spanking is going to hurt...they always hurt...but I'm not afraid. I know you won't harm me even though you'll spank me till I cry. I kiss your hand gratefully, the rough calluses tickling my lip. I'm glad you're going to spank me with your hand. I like the feel of your hands on me. As you move into spanking position, I feel a heightened sense of awareness. I can feel the hard surface of your desk pressing against my breasts...I smell the faint aroma of your aftershave mingling with your musky male scent. As you place your hands on me I can feel the contrasts...one soft and firm, the other warm and rough. I move slightly, testing the restraints...assuring myself that I am indeed completely vulnerable to you. I've never felt safer in my life. I realize what a precious gift you've given me...the gift of trust...and wait for my spanking to begin. (Continued in Part 2)

Part 1

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/13707.txt

J M MCMURRAY

Slitfest

"How do I look, Denise?" she asked, posing in front of the large wall mirror in the bedroom. "Beautiful," came my reply. "Why are you all dressed up?" Barbara smiled. "Well, it's my first time seeing Julie in a few years. I guess, I want to impress her." I gave her a pat on the bottom before going over to the bed and throwing my purse down. "Well, you should definitely impress her. Especially, if you're going to wear that outfit." Barbara turned toward me with an inquisitive expression. "Are you sure you're not upset or jealous, Denise? I mean, I won't go, if it makes you upset. I truly mean that." "No, go," I said. "Go. I want you to go. I won't be jealous." I paused before adding, "Besides, I told you about the adventures Ashley and I used to have. I sure wasn't jealous when she was out fucking one, two, three... of my friends." There was another pause on my part. "I'm not the jealous type. I know, Barbara, that no matter what happens with you and Julie, you love me... and that is the important thing." "That's right," she said, coming over and offering a warm hug. "I do love you. And I appreciate your leniency." She stepped back and grinned. "Wow. You tell me of those `adventures' with Ashley... I've always wondered what it would be like to be involved in group sex." "It's the BEST," I sneered at her. "Pussies, hands, mouths, breasts... EVERYWHERE!" "No cocks?" she teased. "No cocks," I giggled. "For me to get involved with a man again, he's going to have to be perfect. Absolutely perfect. I mean, I've had so much trouble with men in my lifetime." I reached out, and traced a fingertip along the outline of Barbara's left breast. "I'm attracted to women. I'm attracted to women more than ever before." She laughed again. "I wonder if you'd say that, if there was a cock shoved inside your pussy." I snickered before replying. "Well, you shove dildos in my pussy. Does that count for anything?" "Maybe," she grinned. Several moments later, I had the tub full of hot, soapy water, and was luxuriating in the sensations. Such a long day of work; it felt so good to come home and relax in a nice, hot bath. I continually soaped up the washcloth, and rubbed it over my upper body, especially my breasts. It felt so nice. One breast, and then the other. A cycle that never wore itself out. That is, until I thought of something a little better. I stretched a leg out, and ran the soapy washcloth along it, and came to a halt between my thighs. It seemed as though my body was alive with wild sensations, and it felt so wonderful when I pressed the cloth down and rubbed it against my pussy. "Oooooh," came a squealing moan from me, and I pressed harder. Soon, I slipped down further in the tub, now sitting on my tailbone, and spread my legs out wide in the tub. Planting both feet alongside the edge gave me complete access to what I wanted. I opened the washcloth up and then smothered it between my thighs. I pressed deeply with two fingers, and moaned in delight while rotating each in tiny, erotic circles. Even though I masturbate on a daily basis, I can never get enough of it. After dunking the cloth in a patch of suds, I dug between my thighs once again. I cooed and sighed in approval, then giggled. I scrubbed my breasts and shoulders with the cloth, then got up and took a seat on the inside edge of the tub. It was about two feet in width, so there was plenty of room to sit and be comfortable. I did this for one reason, and that was to masturbate with the cloth in open air.I spread my thighs wide apart, facing the open shower curtain, and reached down into the sudsy water with the cloth. I brought it back up, settled in deeper on the edge, and then planted it against my pussy once again. I dug and dug into the sensitive flesh for at least 15 seconds, my insides getting hotter and hotter. I reached back into the water and then crumpled the washcloth in one hand. I wrung it out at my abdomen, letting the squeezed-out water trickle downward, over my pussy. Then I started giving long, slow swipes with the cloth, concentrating on the area between my thighs. Holding my slit open with the other hand, I dunked the cloth once again, then spread it across the exposed area. In a matter of seconds, both hands were busy. I rubbed the cloth over my pussy, and then did the same with the other hand, which was bare. I did this in a cycle which lasted for at least 30 seconds. After tossing the cloth into the suds, I used both bare hands to masturbate. While massaging my clit with two fingers from the left hand, I used three fingers from the right and thrusted them in-and-out of the slippery opening. The room was filled with a chorus of moans and sighs as I brought myself closer and closer to a self-induced orgasm. Too bad I didn't bring my favorite dildo to the tub along with me! However, orgasm had to wait. Not yet. Didn't want it yet. After retrieving the washcloth, I stood up in the center of the tub and wrung it out at my abdomen once again, letting the water filter over and through the folds of my pussy. Then I proceeded to turn around, and bend over at the waist. I put one hand on the edge where I had just sat, and propped a foot up there as well. With the other hand, I reached behind myself, and ground the cloth between my asscheeks. "Ooooooh!" I squealed in delight, rubbing against my anus. That hand still behind my back, I dug into my pussy, then roughly dragged the cloth upward, over and across my puckered anus. I did this motion several times before dropping the cloth into the water again. I was still bent at the waist, in the overly obscene position, when I simply used my index finger and forged it between my asscheeks. I cried out in sudden shock upon anal penetration, then relaxed for a short moment and sighed in total pleasure. My hips started to gyrate as I wiggled the finger around inside my ass. I felt so hot; my body was becoming a raging inferno! I started to writhe about and almost slipped before finally taking the finger out. I was about to retrieve the washcloth when I noticed the hand-held shower nozzle on the wall. "Hmmmmm," I moaned, curiously, while flipping the nozzle on. Water spurted out, and I immediately shoved it between my thighs. The head was very wide in length, and hard as rock, and I continued to grind it against my burning pussy. More moans and sighs escaped from within my throat, and I soon came to the decision that this wonderful instrument would bring me to orgasm. I moved it upward, and rubbed it across my anus. That set the wheels in motion, causing the loudest moan yet. I brought the nozzle back to my pussy and savagely masturbated with it. "Gonna cum!" I screamed, as if someone was there to hear me. "Ohhhhh.... OHHHHHHH.... OHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!" came my cry, as the juices started to flow. I dropped the nozzle, which was still shooting water out, and braced myself with both hands against the edge, in an effort not to fall over. "FUCK!" I screamed as the tidal wave started to taper off. "Feels so GOOD!" "Oooooh," I moaned, raising from the bent over position, the cloth now back in hand. I reached down and swiped my pussy with it once more, then slowly lowered myself back into the water. "Hotttt!" I sighed, taking a seat in the tub. I stayed in the tub for a half-hour more, giving myself time to recover from the blissful experience, and rested up. Masturbation is quite a common thing around this house. Barbara and I are very open with each other, and we both masturbate on a daily basis. She is always getting all sorts of new "toys" from adult mail-order companies. I have my own set of joy toys, and the two of us often share and trade. I washed my hair before exiting the tub, and then toweled and dried off. I was wearing only a pink robe and was about ready for bed when the telephone rang. "Hello?" "Denise, it's Barbara." I smiled. "Oh, hi honey. What can I do for you?" She paused. "Would it be okay if I brought Julie over to the house? I want to give her a guided tour before we call it a night." I looked down at myself, in a robe, almost ready to go to sleep. "Barbara, can't it wait un... oh, okay. Okay. You can bring her over." "Are you sure?" she asked, skeptical. "Yeah, I'm sure," came my reply. "Just give me a half-hour." "Great!" she exclaimed. "We'll be there in 45 minutes." Ahh, I didn't care. I'd just throw on a blouse and a pair of jeans. I figured the night was important to Barbara, wanting to score points with her former girlfriend. That's why I said it would be okay for her to come over for a visit, even though I was preparing to go to bed. It was actually over an hour after the call, before they finally arrived. And the photos I'd seen earlier did not do Julie any type of justice at all. She had the girl-next-door type of look. She was quite petite, without a lot of voluptuous curves, although everything seemed firm and tight. Julie had shoulder-length blonde hair, brown eyes and a very attractive smile. "You must be Denise," she said, extending her hand. "And you're Julie," I summarized, shaking her hand. "I've heard so much about you." "Really?" I said, looking over at Barbara. Well, I said to myself, someone wouldn't have to be Phi Beta Kappa to figure out Barbara and I are lovers, if they already know beforehand that one or both of us are bi-sexual. After all, we are living together. "Jules, let's go over to the sofa here," Barbara said. "I have some pictures I want to show you." "Great," the pretty blonde smiled. I stood there in silence for a moment, then finally spoke up. "Would either of you like something to drink?" "Red wine," Barbara replied, already on the sofa. Julie shrugged her shoulders. "Red wine for me too." I went into the kitchen to pour two glasses, thinking that Julie seemed like a very nice person. No wonder Barbara was so concerned about making it a perfect night. I thought hey, if Julie were my girlfriend, past or present, I'd want to impress her as well. After pouring both glasses, I took them and went back toward the living room. I almost spilled the drinks when I got my first look at what was happening. "Am I interrupting something?" was my question, in a shrill tone. Barbara, wrapped in Julie's arms, broke off the mouth-to-mouth kiss and looked over at me. "Forget the wine, baby. Come over and join us! Make it a threesome!" I glanced at Julie, who was looking at me with a lust-filled expression upon her lovely face. "But Barbara..." I finally said. "I don't even know that girl. I may like all kinds of sex, but I'm into doing it with strangers!" "Oh, come on!" Barbara encouraged. "Julie isn't a stranger. I know her quite well. Besides, this is the only night she can see us. You know how much I want to take part in a threesome." "Yeah, Denise! Come on!" Julie smiled in an innocent tone. I noticed Barbara had her hand buried inside Julie's blouse, massaging her breasts. "Please, Denise?" Barbara whined. "Arrrrg," I mumbled to myself, placing the glasses down upon the end-table and rushing over to them. A stranger. Sex with a stranger. A stranger. "Great!" Barbara exclaimed, reaching up and pulling me down onto the sofa, between her and Julie. Before I knew what happened next, Julie grasped my chin and turned my face toward hers... and then her mouth was clamped down upon mine for a heated kiss. The girl doesn't waste any time, I told myself. Barbara's right hand was massaging my left breast as I slumped down deeper into the sofa. Julie broke the kiss with me off, and then she and Barbara played a game of tongue-tag, about 6 inches away from my face. I felt hands on me; it seemed as though they were touching every part of my body. I moaned at the sudden excitement level, and reached in different directions with both hands. My left sought Julie's upper thigh, and I massaged it through the white pants she wore. The other went for the gusto, diving between Barbara's inviting legs, and rubbing her pussy through the tiny G-string she wore. I leaned forward a bit and stuck my tongue out, and now all three of us were playing tongue-tag in the open air. I must admit, it was very erotic, getting so intimate with a stranger, so soon. Both ladies detracted, and soon they were busy unbuttoning my blouse and whisking it off. Barbara reached underneath me and unhooked my bra, and took it off as well. I moaned as both took advantage of my topless state. Two mouths descended upon me -- one on each breast. "Ooooooh," I squealed, spreading my thighs wide (an involuntary reaction).Even though I still had on a pair of jeans, Barbara slid her hand downward and began rubbing my pussy through the material. I was now doing the same to Julie, rubbing her treasure box through her white pants. As for Barbara, I had my hand under her G-string now and was busy finger-fucking her. I continued to moan and sigh as their lips and teeth worked wonders upon my breasts and nipples. They broke away at the same time and then shared a series of deep, quick kisses right before my very eyes. Then, in a flash, both were planting kisses on either side of my face. One of my arms was now wrapped around Barbara's shoulder, and the opposite hand was groping Julie's breasts through her blouse. Each of their mouths returned to my nipples, and this time, they also used their hands and fingers, which only added to the pleasure. Why couldn't this have happened earlier? It soon became apparent that Barbara and Julie were dedicated to my breasts. They kept nibbling and sucking, this time not breaking off. I simply arched my neck and sighed in pleasure as they continued. I reached down and undid the jeans I wore. I moved my hands back to each body beside me, figuring they could take my jeans and panties off for me when they wanted to. But as for now, their mouths were committed to my breasts. Each kept sucking and nibbling, and it felt GREAT! I had not been in a threesome in several months; I almost forgot how great they are. Her mouth still at work, Julie reached down between my thighs and nudged her hand beneath my panties. I moaned as the foreign hand, at least to me, rubbed over my damp pussy. I looked over at Barbara and noticed that she was masturbating. Her miniskirt was raised above her waist, and her right hand was busy. Seconds later, the breast sucking finally came to a close. Barbara got onto the sofa and stood on her knees beside me. Slowly, as if asking permission, she raised one knee and moved it over my face. "Do it," I said. In a flash, Barbara was seated astride my face. I reached up and slid the tiny understrip of her G-string out of the way, then went to work on her succulent little pussy. Barbara's body bucked and writhed above me as I went to work with my mouth. I spread her slit with fingers from both hands and dug my tongue in deep between the folds, tasting every wet recess. Meanwhile, I felt my jeans being slid down, and then my panties. My body tensed as Julie's mouth dived between my own thighs and then started to lick and nibble away. I spread myself open for her, all the way, as Barbara reached back and down, tweaking one of my nipples with two fingers. I could not see what Julie was doing to me, because Barbara was blocking my view. But I certainly enjoyed Julie's oral ministrations! "FUCK YES!" I screamed, in both shock and pleasure, as Julie slammed at least three (perhaps four) fingers into me. She continued eating me at the same time... it was SOOOOO wonderful. I was sucking on Barbara's clit now, taking it into my mouth and gently tugging it downward. My own body was rocking with passion, thanks to Julie. I thought these two may engage in sexual activity... but I certainly never had any idea that I would be right in the middle of it, too! Julie was really doing a number on me. I felt her tongue taking long, erotic swipes of my pussy... every hint of contact excited me more and more. Meanwhile, I had my tongue forged up into Barbara's slit. I was determined to make her cum, because I wanted to swallow the explosion. And I was also determined to make her cum before Julie made ME cum. However, that was not the case. All of a sudden, it was as if an earthquake had hit. I screamed in lust, and I felt the juices flowing from me as if they were a tidal wave. And at the same time, I felt Julie's mouth still on me, trying herself to swallow and suck down the delicious liquid. "Cum for me, Barbara," I begged. A second later, she let herself go -- all over my face. Moaning, I swallowed as much as I could, my tongue lapping like crazy. She ground her pussy into my mouth, and just kept cumming, all the while screaming and moaning her own passion. Barbara slid away from me, and I noticed that she was completely nude, except for the G-string that I had to push out of the way in order to eat her, and her miniskirt. She must have gotten rid of her top while I worked on her pussy. She disposed of the miniskirt and G-string, sliding them down and tossing them aside. "Wait here," Barbara said, getting up and walking out of the living room. I looked over at Julie, and noticed that she was now topless. Her breasts weren't very large, but I wasn't complaining. They were perfect for her frame and build. She looked over at me and smiled. I brushed my hair back with a hand and realized a good portion of Barbara's cum was now coating my hair. So much for that shower earlier, eh? Well, not really. Masturbating like that was worth it! "I see you're not shy anymore," Julie grinned, stepping out of her white pants and G-string. "No," came a sigh from me. "No, I'm not." Barbara came back into the living room, carrying a double-headed dildo which was two feet in length. "Where did you get THAT?" Julie exclaimed, her brown eyes big and blazing with curiosity. "Mail order," Barbara grinned, re-joining us on the sofa. She gave one end of the dildo to Julie and told her to suck on it. Julie did, and then Barbara did the same with the opposite end. Both of them sucked on the dildo as if it were a real man's cock. Since there wasn't a third head for me, though, I started sucking on the middle, where there were fake balls. We did this for several seconds, until Barbara jerked it away from us. She grabbed hold of one end and pressed the fake cockhead against Julie's left breast, who moaned in response. Barbara prodded the tip against her friend's breast, rubbing it in tiny circles. Julie reached down and tweaked that nipple, and then I moved in and started sucking on the other (right) breast. But before I could get into a groove, Barbara took the dildo away again, and Julie moved back. Barbara handed the dildo to me and begged "please fuck us with it." Within seconds, the two women were laying on their backs, thighs spread and knees in the air, their pussies facing one another. I moved one end of the dildo between Barbara's thighs, and the other between Julie's. I worked on her first, forcing 10 inches of the toy into her, until the fake testicles at the center were touching her. Then I did the same with Barbara. I held onto the middle, so the instrument would not slip out. Then both of them started to buck together, like bitches in heat. I eventually increased their pleasure by moving the dildo in a back-and-forth motion. By doing this, an end thrusted outward of one of them, while the other end thrusted inward to the other person. I moved it back-and-forth at a torrid pace, wanting them to remember this coupling for a long time. I could also see each pussy, all stretched out and completely soaked, as they rocked together and screamed in lust. Barbara moved her hand down and started masturbating as I continued the dildo-fuck. I was going at such a pace that my arm was starting to hurt. I was really giving it to them now, and their sounds and expressions told the story. Both of them came instantaneously. I laughed in delight while taking both ends of the dildo out of them. I bent the instrument so the heads were side by side, then brought it to my mouth and stuffed them in, as far as they would go. My mouth was really stretching to get the two heads inside. I slurped each end, sucking down the cum from each woman. Barbara sat up and took the dildo from me, and then instructed me to lay down upon my back. I did, and spread my thighs wide for them. Julie, tired but ready for some more, sat up as well, then leaned down and gave me a full kiss on the mouth. I was not expecting it, but kissed her back with all the fever and intensity I could possibly find. Barbara's face was now hovering over my pussy. She had spread my thighs even wider, and had them in the air. She started to finger-fuck me while Julie splayed a serious of wild, passionate kisses along my neck and shoulders. Julie moved downward. While Barbara held my slit open, Julie dove in, using her lips and tongue on me. I started to writhe and moan -- I could have my pussy eaten all day and never become bored or complacent -- and then Barbara's tongue moved in as well. Two women were eating me, at the same time! I was in such a state of bliss that I do not know exactly what happened in the next sequence. I believe they took turns -- one would lick my pussy while the other held it open -- then they would switch. I did notice that on occasion, they would lick each other's tongues and share kisses. But their focus was me; specifically, my pussy. It got to the point where I was holding both my legs up, stretching them so my knees were almost touching my shoulders. Then I felt a finger against my anus. "Denise just LOVES having her little ass played with," Barbara commented, as she inserted a finger into my bunghole. While Julie held my pussy open with two fingers and ate it, Barbara finger-fucked me in the ass! What sensations! Things... they were kind of a little bleak after that. I remember screaming -- I couldn't stop. It was so pleasurable. I clutched and grabbed my breasts, massaging them savagely, just adding to the excitement. Then I remember cumming -- I couldn't stop doing that, either.Barbara and Julie lapped up all of my juices and took their time, too. It was so incredible. Barbara slid up to me and latched her cum-soaked mouth upon mine for a heated kiss. Julie joined in as well, laying down beside me, rubbing my breasts and kissing my shoulder. We were very tired, yes, but the night was far from over. The three of us fucked one another silly until we couldn't take it anymore. The last reading on the clock I remember that night was around 4:30 a.m. And I get up each morning at 6:30 a.m. for work! Talk about being groggy and tired... that was me, at work the next day. The only unfortunate thing that came out of the entire evening was the fact that Julie was in town for just a couple of days. As it turned out, that one night/early morning was the only time Barbara or myself got to see her. She came back to Los Angeles to visit her family, with the intention of rekindling the flame with Barbara for just one evening. I was very lucky that she wanted to start a brand new flame with me. What a great night! Julie may be back in San Francisco, but she has promised to visit us anytime she is in Los Angeles. And let me tell you, we are thinking about going up there to visit her. Barbara and I definitely want to see her again. It would be a travesty if we didn't. I'm very content with Barbara in my life and could easily live without sex from anyone but her. But when an opportunity like this arises, what am I supposed to do? Julie looked so beautiful that night, and when the two of them basically begged me to have sex with them... who could refuse that? Well, after I finish with this file and spread it around the local bulletin boards and networks, it will be time to go into the bedroom and spend some "quality time" with one of my vibrators. You don't know how hot I get, typing these experiences out. It will be time for another slitfest soon; hopefully tonight, with Barbara! Dripping, Denise Q.

Part 3 of 4

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/7262.txt

Anonymous

LYNDUKE: +++Barbara Loves Anal Sex+++

"Scream all you want, Barbara," Bob whispered into her ear as he attempted to mount her from behind, both on hands and knees in the doggie style position. Bob had applied a tiny drop of KY on the outside of her rectum. Just enough lube to work the head of his shaft just inside the anal ring. Not really enough to allay her fear of the pain that was coming. But he found the anal orgasm with the most pain gave the deepest, longest, strongest, and most satisfying climax. Therefore, he skimped on the lube. Most people would find more comfort with half a tube of KY. But Bob was going for quality, not comfort. Ultimately, she would find her comfort when she got her climax. And that is what he was going to assure - a totally perfect and complete rectal orgasm that wrenched her entire body. With that, he thrust forward viciously, burying his huge erection in the tight, rubbery confines of the little 5' brunette's bottom. She had earlier asked him to penetrate her anally, without letting up when she told him to stop. "Oh God," Barbara wailed as humiliation began to merge with the pain. He was moved by her tears. Indeed, seeing her suffering made him love her more and more and more, as he could comfort and assuage her more. A loving, aching feeling was deep in his heart - an aching need to give her total satisfaction, even though in the short run, it would be a bit painful. And he had promised to complete this act even if she took back her request for sodomy. A feeling of total helplessness washed over Barbara like a tidal wave as Bob sunk his rod to the hilt, his big hairy balls slapping luridly against her lovely butt cheeks. The black butt plug stuck out of his ass a little and gave him additional pleasure. "UUUUNNNNGGGGGHHHHH!!!! ….PLEASE, you have to stop. I can't do anal. I thought I could, but I can't. If you take it out, we can do anything else you want. ANYTHING!" But Bob already had what he wanted most in the world: His thick cock forcing its way into a tight, virgin, unwilling ass. One of his hands reached her pussy and diddled her clit. This helped to relax her and concentrate her focus on getting hornier. "Pinch your nipple, Darling, it will help you bear the pain till I get inside and make you cum." She did as directed. He began to screw part way in and out of the narrow rectal passage, bringing further cries of distress to her trembling lips. She cried out loud like a baby, sobbing hideously, but part of the cry, he knew from past sessions, was the start of a cry for joy, she was in the throes of conversion to orgasm. She had earlier taken 2 thorough soap suds enemas and a rinse enema to prepare her back door just for his use, and his alone. He bumped against her over and over, loosening her up. Then he began to brutally lunge into her soft buns, with his throbbing bone again and again, buried to the hilt in her rectum. Her arm and leg muscles collapsed, and Barbara went limp, and fell over the pillow he had placed beneath her. Much to her delight, she found the pain easing the more she relaxed and collapsed. Soon she was up on all fours, pushing back to meet the ramrod. Not long after, she was screaming "harder Bob!!!, you're all the way in, fuck me more. Hurt me more". All of a sudden, there was the beginning of an orgasm deep within her bowels, and it grew larger and larger. When it hit, her clitoris was spasming as much as her rectal walls and uterus. She felt his jism burn her insides. And then they both collapsed in a heap. Happy. He took a wet towel and lovingly washed her bottom off. Put his mouth on her clit and teased with his tongue for a minute. Then he gave her a sip of his drink, for she was very, very thirsty after that hearty ordeal. With tears staining her happy face, she took his face in her hands and kissed his lips tenderly. And for the first time ever, by this strong, loving man, Barbara was totally and completely sexually satisfied.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/8172.txt

Nergd

BATGIRL AND WONDER WOMAN: ALTER EGOS

"So, where is Batman tonight?" asked Batgirl. "He'll be out of town for a few weeks," replied Robin, the Boy Wonder. "Then I suppose we'll have to find the Catwoman's hideout ourselves," said Batgirl. "Before she gets into any mischief." "Yeah, I suppose," agreed Robin. "Let's take the Batmobile. You can leave your Batgirlcycle in your favorite hiding spot, and we can ride together." "Do you know where the hideout is?" asked Batgirl. "Sure," replied Robin. "Catwoman left the usual obvious clues." "All right then," replied Batgirl. "I suppose it would be better if we arrived together." "And we might find the communications installed in the Batmobile useful," added Robin. "In case we need an uplink to the Batcomputer or to call for help." Robin, in a very gentlemanly way, held the door of the Batmobile open for Batgirl. "Thank you," said the cowled woman coolly as she got in. Robin was ecstatic. The teenaged crimefighter had had a crush on Batgirl ever since he had met her. He dearly wanted to get to know her better, in the most intimate way possible. But he hesitated pursuing her, for fear Batman might not approve. Or worse, that Batgirl had feelings for Batman, and not him. But, with his mentor away for a few days, Robin could find out just how far he could get with the masked crimefightress. As they drove toward the feline villainess' hideout, Robin asked Batgirl: "How do you like the Batmobile?" "I think the Batmobile is fine," replied Batgirl, again, coolly. "This is your first ride in it, isn't it?" asked Robin, rhetorically. "I made a few refinements in it recently. Would you like to see how fast it can go?" The car, thought Robin. Chicks dig the car. "No, that won't be necessary," replied Batgirl, as coldly as she could muster. "Let's just get to the hideout." Robin was unfazed by his passenger's lack of interest. He decided to try a different tactic. "I bet you'd like to see the inside of the Batcave, eh, Batgirl? How about it if I take you on a tour after we take Catwoman and her kittens to jail? Of course, I'd have to blindfold you so you wouldn't learn my true identity..." "Look! That abandoned warehouse! That looks like a likely hideout! Pull over, and we'll check it out," said Batgirl, thankful that events allowed a change of subject. Batgirl left Robin's question unanswered as the pair of crimefighters got out of the Batmobile and prepared for action. Batgirl was grateful for the diversion, as she considered Robin something of a dork, and could see where their "conversation" was going. The last thing in the world Batgirl wanted was a "date" with such a geeky teenager, even if it was to see the secrets of the Batcave. "Shall we climb the wall and enter through the skylight?" asked Robin. "I don't like the looks of this," replied Batgirl. "It smells of a trap. Tell you what: You call for some help while I reconnoiter. Take the Batmobile around the corner, so no one can see you." "But Batgirl," protested Robin. "I want to go with you." "Just do it," ordered Batgirl. "But who shall I call for help?" asked Robin. "Batman can't be reached." "Oh, I don't care," replied Batgirl, exasperatedly. "Use Batman's communicator to call someone from the Justice League." "All right," agreed Robin. "I'll try. Will you be safe?" "Never mind me," replied Batgirl. "I can take care of myself." * * * When she awoke, Batgirl found herself lying on the floor. Although her costume was intact, she was horrified to learn that her cowl had been removed, revealing her face. "Welcome to my hideout, Miss Gordon," said the unmistakable voice of the Queen of Crime: Catwoman! "How purrrrrfectly wonderful for you to drop in! So, the heroic crimefightress Batgirl is in reality Commissioner Gordon's daughter!" "How... how do you know who I am?" replied the unmasked woman, believing it was useless to deny the obvious. "Because I had a plan a while back to kidnap you," replied the felonious feline. "As Commissioner of Police, your father would have to pay a good price for such a high-profile abduction. But I discarded that plan as too risky. Now, though, Barbara Gordon has made it easy for me just by walking into the trap I had set for Batgirl. I had planned to just reveal your secret identity to the world, nullifying your effectiveness as a crimefighter, but now, I can really make that plan pay! As soon as my kittens come back, we'll start!" "You mean we're here all alone?" asked Batgirl. "That's right, Miss Gordon," replied Catwoman. "I got the 'drop' on you all by myself. But don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you. You're much more valuable to me alive." "You'll never get away with this, Catwoman!" exclaimed the exposed librarian. "Oh?" replied Catwoman. "And who's going to stop me?" "How about me?" replied a statuesque woman in a star-spangled outfit as she burst through the door of the hideout. "Wonder Woman!" gasped Catwoman. "That's right," replied the Amazon. With a quick twirl of her lasso, the busty superheroine ensnared the villainess and quickly subdued her. Wonder Woman then turned her attention to the trussed-up form of Batgirl and quickly removed her bonds. "I'm glad you're safe, Batgirl, but it looks as though your career of crimefighting is over, now that this crook has learned your secret." Batgirl was irritated at the Amazon's condescending attitude as she replied: "Thanks for coming to help, Wonder Woman, but I had everything under control." "Under control?" replied Wonder Woman. "Catwoman was about to reveal your secret identity to the world! Even if you had escaped and turned the tables on her, she would still know." "Would she?" replied Batgirl, as she put her cowl back on, and reached into a compartment in her utility belt. From it, she retrieved a capsule. "Now stand back, Wonder Woman, and hold your breath." Both women gasped and held a lungful of air as Batgirl threw the capsule at the feet of Catwoman, who was held in place by Wonder Woman's magic lasso. The capsule exploded in a cloud of white vapor. Surprised, the supervillainess gasped, and breathed in the fumes. Catwoman's eyes blinked, and then they glazed over. A moment later, she saw the two heroines and said: "Batgirl? Wonder Woman? Where... how did I... What happened?" "Never mind, kitty," replied Batgirl. "Just run along home. Remember, I'm keeping an eye on you." Catwoman quickly scurried away to join her henchmen. Batgirl turned to Wonder Woman and asked: "How did you know I was here?" "That good-looking boy, Robin, called me on the Justice League transmitter in the Batmobile," replied Wonder Woman. "I told him to wait outside. But are you going to let Catwoman get away? Aren't you even going to arrest her? She'll tell everyone who you really are! And what was that gas you sprayed on her?" "I have to let her go," replied Batgirl. "She hasn't really broken the law yet." "'Not broken the law'?" asked Wonder Woman. "How about kidnapping?" "I can't very well have her prosecuted for that," replied Batgirl. "And as for my secret identity, that chemical was a mind-altering drug that will cause Catwoman to have a permanent memory loss of the events of the past twelve hours. So you see, my secret identity is safe. But it wouldn't be if I arrested her, because then I'd have to testify, and, well, you know." "Besides," added Batgirl, "Since she has no memory of what happened, she could just deny everything, even to the point of passing a lie detector test. So it would just be her word against mine, er, ours. I doubt that even your magic lasso would get the truth from her. And if it did, well, that would be the end of my crimefighting career." "Some career," muttered Wonder Woman under her breath. "What did you say?" asked Batgirl. "I said, 'Where did you learn about that drug?'" replied Wonder Woman. "From my research at the library," replied Batgirl. "Barbara Gordon is a librarian, you know." "Hmpf! All I know is that you're involved in some dangerous business," declared Wonder Woman. "Perhaps you should settle down and find a nice young man. Maybe Robin. He's a handsome lad." "Robin?" repeated Batgirl. "Well, he may be handsome, but he's just not my type. Besides, I think he's gay. After all, a muscular teenage boy that runs around in tights and hangs around with an older man..." "In any case, Batgirl, I think it would be better for you to leave the crimefighting business to us professionals," declared Wonder Woman. "Professionals?!" shrieked Batgirl, disturbed by Wonder Woman's continuing condescension."Look, Wonder Woman, just because you've got super powers to make it easier for you to catch crooks doesn't mean that us normal mortals can't handle it!" "That's not what I meant," replied Wonder Woman. "It's just that experience is the best teacher. Besides, having super powers doesn't make it any easier, and..." "Look, Wonder Woman," interrupted Batgirl, "anytime you want to trade places, it's fine with me." Wonder Woman paused and thought about the issue over which she was arguing with Batgirl. She then asked, "Do you really mean that?" "Mean what?" asked Batgirl in reply. "About changing places," replied Wonder Woman. "You become me, and I'll become you. Then we'll see who's the better crimefighter." "Just how would we go about doing that?" replied Batgirl incredulously. "Switch costumes? I don't think Barbara Gordon would look too good in a tiara, and besides, I'd probably miss a few bullets with those bracelets." "No," replied Wonder Woman. "That's not what I had in mind. I propose we switch our personalities between our two bodies." "You mean I would inhabit your body, and you would take over mine?" asked Batgirl. "Like on the final episode of 'Star Trek'? That's impossible!" "Oh, no it's not," countered the Amazon. "You see, I just happen to have my Purple Healing Ray in my invisible plane with me. With a few adjustments, I can use its technology to switch our bodies for a short while. But if you're afraid..." "Afraid?" replied Batgirl, who was even more irritated at Wonder Woman's suggestion of her cowardice. "Me? Lead the way!" "All right then," replied Wonder Woman as she directed Batgirl toward the invisible plane. On the way, the pair saw Robin. "Well, where's Catwoman?" He asked. "She, er, got away," replied Batgirl. "Now Robin, be a dear and wait for me. You can give me a ride back to my Batgirlcycle after Wonder Woman shows me something in her plane." "All right," agreed Robin, flushed with joy that Batgirl had referred to him as "dear". * * * Inside the invisible plane, Wonder Woman made some adjustments to her Purple Healing Ray, and soon, both heroines were strapped to the appropriate apparatus. Wonder Woman threw the switch, and a moment later, the process was complete. Wonder Woman, now in the body of Batgirl, spoke first: "How do you feel?" "I'm OK," replied Batgirl, now inhabiting the Amazon's voluptuous frame. "Fine," said Wonder Woman. "Now, let's brief each other on our personalities. We don't want anyone to suspect we've made a switch." After preparing each other, Wonder Woman said, "Now remember: Your secret identity is Diana Prince, and you work at Military Intelligence. You should have no trouble finding super criminals with which to do battle." "And you're Barbara Gordon," came the star-spangled woman's reply. "Librarian." "Oh, and I'll just bet those crooks are all over the library!" said Wonder Woman, sarcastically. "I can throw a Batarang at them if they talk above a whisper!" "Knock it off!" commanded Batgirl. "Now, go have Robin drive you to the Batgirlcycle. Then go to my -I mean your- apartment." "Right," agreed Wonder Woman. "And you go to mine. Are you sure you can handle flying the invisible plane?" "Of course," replied Batgirl. "All right then," said Wonder Woman. "We meet back here in twenty-four hours and see who has the better crimefighting career." "Agreed," replied Batgirl. Wonder Woman exited the plane and walked toward Robin. "Is everything OK, Batgirl?" asked the Boy Wonder. "Yeah," replied Wonder Woman. "She just wanted to show me how we could find Catwoman again." "Oh, that's OK," replied Robin. "We can use the Batcomputer for that. Say... that reminds me, how about that tour of the Batcave? Would you be interested?" "Sure," replied Wonder Woman. "Why not?" * * * Batgirl landed the invisible plane where Wonder Woman had instructed. She then entered the apartment of Diana Prince. Feeling somewhat spent from her experience, she decided to take a shower. Afterward, she relaxed and lounged around the apartment. A few minutes later, the doorbell rang. Still in her bathrobe, she got up to answer it. Opening the door, she was surprised to see a man in an army colonel's uniform. She stared, and her mouth opened in surprise at the sight of the man's handsome ruggedness. "Diana?" the man said. "Did you forget about my coming over tonight?" "Oh!" replied Batgirl. This must be Wonder Woman's boyfriend, Steve Trevor. The one she said was always after her to get her to marry him. Why Wonder Woman didn't do that, Batgirl couldn't imagine. But what was he doing here? Wonder Woman had told Batgirl that Steve didn't know her secret identity! "Don't you remember?" asked Steve. "You agreed that I should come over tonight, after Wonder Woman gave me the brush-off again. I thought we'd go over some of the files at work." Batgirl didn't understand why Wonder Woman hadn't ever been intimate or at least paid a little more attention to Steve. After all, he was very handsome. "Er, all right," she replied. "Let me get dressed. Come on in and have a seat." "I brought the files with me," said Steve as he entered. * * * Back at the Batcave, Wonder Woman, in the guise of Batgirl, felt Robin's hands as he removed the blindfold that prevented her from seeing the secret entrance to the Batcave. "Sorry about that, Batgirl," said Robin, "But we need to keep our identities secret from each other. I wish we didn't have to, but..." "Oh, that's all right Robin," replied Wonder Woman. "I understand." "Let me show you around," said Robin, taking Wonder Woman by the hand. The tour lasted for several hours. Wonder Woman acted impressed at every detail Robin was sharing, primarily because she found Robin's young and virile good looks so attractive. She wanted to stay near him. Robin, on the other hand, couldn't help but notice the newfound interest Batgirl was showing in him. Soon, it became apparent that he would have to make an attempt to get closer to the masked woman. "You know, Batgirl, it's getting late," said Robin. "Soon it will be light outside. I was thinking..." "Yes?" prompted Wonder Woman. "I was thinking that maybe you could, er..., spend the rest of the night here, in the Batcave," said the Boy Wonder. "I could take you back to your Batgirlcycle tomorrow night, so that you could go home under the cover of darkness." "Stay here?" replied Wonder Woman. "In the Batcave? Alone?" "No," replied Robin nervously. "I..., er..., that is..., er..., I could stay with you." There. He had said it. Wonder Woman thought about what Robin was suggesting. She could see that Robin was very interested in Batgirl, in spite of what Batgirl's feelings were. All Robin needed was a little encouragement to overpower the real Batgirl with his charms, once the two heroines switched back. If she slept with him, the Boy Wonder would no doubt become more aggressive at pursuing a more permanent relationship with Batgirl. The real Batgirl would eventually have to surrender to his attractiveness. So Wonder Woman, now completely under the spell of the young crimefighter's allure, said: "I think I'd like that." * * * Meanwhile, back at Diana Prince's apartment, Batgirl was falling victim to another man's charms. She found Wonder Woman's boyfriend so attractive that she couldn't help herself. She desperately wanted to feel his tender touch. There was nothing wrong in that, she thought. However, the way Wonder Woman acted, it was clear the Amazon only considered her relationship with Steve as platonic. But Batgirl wondered how Steve felt. So she decided to find out. "Steve?" asked Batgirl, now dressed as Diana Prince. "Yes, Diana?" replied Steve. "Why are you always chasing after Wonder Woman?" asked Batgirl. "Er..., well..., er..., the costume, I guess," replied Steve, somewhat taken aback by the question. "Wonder Woman really looks good in those blue, star-spangled briefs." "And the red and gold bustier?" added Batgirl. "And the red and gold bustier," agreed Steve. Batgirl found herself so strongly attracted to Steve's handsome ruggedness that she decided to press a bit further. "You mean to say that you'd make love to any woman who wore a Wonder Woman costume to bed?" she asked. "Oh no," nervously replied Steve. "Wonder Woman is one of a kind. I could never love anyone just because of a costume." "I have a Wonder Woman costume," said Batgirl in an obvious attempt to seduce Steve. Batgirl would have some fun while in Wonder Woman's body, after all. If she could get Steve to lie down with her, Wonder Woman would eventually have to stop being such a tease to him and submit to a more serious relationship. It wouldn't make any difference to Wonder Woman whether Steve thought he was having sex with Diana Prince or Wonder Woman, since they were the same person. And her secret identity would be safe, because Steve would just think that it was Diana to whom he had made love. It was just that Batgirl was so attracted to Steve that she just had to get him to make love to her. She thought: Robin, indeed! I'll have myself a real man, and use Wonder Woman's body to get him! "You do?" asked Steve. "Sure," replied Batgirl. "Let me go put it on and I'll show you." * * * Robin took Batgirl's hand and led her to a large bed in a corner of the Batcave. "This is where I sleep if I have to stay in the Batcave for any length of time," said Robin. "It looks very comfortable," replied Wonder Woman. "Here, let me help you," said the young masked man as he bent down and picked up the crimefightress in his arms. The cowled woman draped her arms around the boy's neck and looked longingly into his eyes. Robin carried his bundle to the bed and gently laid her down. "Er, uh..., you know, Batgirl, I've..., er..., never done this before," he admitted nervously."That's all right," replied Wonder Woman, as she reached behind her back to unfasten the skintight Batgirl costume. "This is my first time, too." Robin was overjoyed with the idea that he was getting Batgirl's cherry! The woman he loved had not slept with anyone before. She chose him! His penis, already threatening to burst through his green shorts, grew even harder at the news. Gently, the Boy Wonder removed his cape and tunic. Wonder Woman, having removed her own cape and the upper portion of the Batgirl costume to reveal her breasts, reached up and caressed Robin's bare chest. Robin got closer, and grabbing the lower portion of Batgirl's costume, pulled the unitard over the woman's knees down to her ankles. He then pulled his own shorts off. Staring at the woman's voluptuous love mound, Robin asked: "What shall we do first?" "I don't know," replied Wonder Woman. "Like I said before. This is new to me. But you're the man. You're supposed to be dominant." Without another word, Robin grasped the nearly naked crimefightress' knees and split her legs apart. He lowered himself down, into a perfect position from which he could aim his penis into her gaping vagina. As he got closer and touched the woman's nether region with the head of his penis, the woman closed her eyes and let out a soft moan. Finding that the entrance to joy was moist, Robin continued his penetration. His excitement grew as he pumped his hips to and fro. The woman responded with a counter-tempo of gyrations, punctuated by gasps and moaning that grew louder with each thrust. Soon, Robin could feel the not-unfamiliar growth toward climax he had learned from his experiments in masturbation; Research on the very bed upon which he was now showing his mastery as a result of that fine-tuning. The couple climaxed together, and Robin exited the woman and rolled over on his back. Wonder Woman rolled over onto her side, and draped her arm around the broad shoulders of the masked teenager. She still had on her Batgirl mask, but beyond that, they were both naked in bed. Robin turned to her and kissed her. Wonder Woman kissed back. "That was wonderful, darling," said Robin. "You've made me the happiest man on earth. You know, a lot of people think Robin the Boy Wonder is gay, just because he hangs around with Batman and wears tights. But now I think we've laid that rumor to rest. Thank you." "I enjoyed it too," said Wonder Woman. "But now, I must get back. Drive me to my Batgirlcycle?" "Aw, can't I just drive you home?" pleaded the Boy Wonder. "Now that we have slept together, I think you should at least let me know who you really are under that cowl." "No, I'd better not," replied Wonder Woman as she got up from the bed and put on her Batgirl costume. * * * While Wonder Woman and Robin were entertaining each other, Batgirl returned from the bedroom and appeared in front of Steve Trevor. She placed her hands on the waist of the familiar red, blue and gold costume of Wonder Woman she had put on. "Well Steve, how do I look?" she asked, as she stood on her red-booted legs that were apart in a way that added to her provocative posture. "You look like the real Wonder Woman, Diana," replied Steve. He did not think for a moment that it in fact was the real Wonder Woman's body at which he found himself leering, but only that of his heretofore mild-mannered secretary, Diana Prince. "Do I look enough like her to make you want to lie down with me?" asked Batgirl. Taken aback, Steve said: "No, Diana, as attractive as you are in that costume, I'm afraid I'll have to decline your invitation. I must remain true to Wonder Woman." He paused a moment, looking her over, then nervously said: "Perhaps I'd better be going." Batgirl was frustrated. She thought for sure that Steve would fall victim to her appearance as Wonder Woman. She had to try a different approach, and had to do it fast before Steve left. So Batgirl came up with a new plan. "No Steve," she said. "Please don't go. I'll just have a seat over here." Not wanting to make his secretary feel embarrassed for throwing herself at his feet, Steve agreed to stay. "All right, Diana," he said. "I'll stay." "Thanks Steve," replied Batgirl. "And I'm sorry if I embarrassed you. It's just that this costume makes me feel so sexy. I can imagine why Wonder Woman likes hers so much. I hope you don't mind it if I keep it on for a little while." "Not at all," said Steve, glad that Diana would stay on display for a while. Batgirl sat in a chair directly across from Steve. Steve looked back down at the papers on which he was working. A few moments later, when he glanced back up, he saw that Diana had shifted her position in her chair so that she was lying partially on her right side. The top of her Wonder Woman costume had been pulled down so that the gold-encrusted eagle was just beneath her now-exposed breasts. With her left hand, Diana held the crotch of her star-spangled blue satin briefs out of the way as she began stroking her clitoris with her first and middle fingers. Steve was mesmerized. As he continued to stare, Batgirl changed her position so that she was now erect, but lying partially on her left leg, with her right leg crossed over to give Steve a good look at her partially uncovered vagina. Steve started breathing heavily. Batgirl's plan to make him want her seemed to be working. She proceeded to remove her Wonder Woman costume, except for her boots, bracelets, tiara, and belt. She sat with her legs far apart and once again used the fingers of her left hand to split apart her lower lips. She was staring directly at Steve with a look of desire. Then, Batgirl closed her eyes as she brought her knees together and began stroking her clitoris once again. Soon, her crotch and fingers were wet with vaginal juices. As she moaned with ecstasy, she thought, I've always wondered what Wonder Woman felt when she masturbated. Now, I know. Leaning back, Batgirl looked at Steve. She noticed a bulge in his pants that was quickly growing larger. She could tell that he was about to lose his self-control, but needed a little more coaxing. So she removed her belt and leaned back, careful to show her naked breasts and her crotch. Finally, she laid on the floor, and crossing her wrists and placing her hands just above her crotch, partially obscuring it, she said: "Take me, Steve. Take me now." Steve Trevor immediately leapt to his feet and in one swift motion pulled his trousers and shorts to his ankles. He fell onto the woman, and their stomachs slapped as Steve pushed his penis all the way in. Taken somewhat by surprise, Batgirl could only wheeze at Steve's entrance into her. She gyrated her hips in an effort to add to the sensation, but all too soon, it was over. Steve had been ready to cum almost as soon as he saw her enter the room in her Wonder Woman costume. Extracting himself from the vagina he thought belonged to his secretary, Steve said: "I know that was quick, Diana, but the fun is just beginning. Open your mouth." Batgirl could not understand what had happened. It was her idea to seduce Steve into thinking he was having sex with his beloved Wonder Woman. But now, Steve had clearly gained control of the situation. She opened her mouth in anticipation. "That's it Diana," said Steve as he placed his penis inside the willing woman's mouth. Batgirl was amazed at how quickly the man's member had hardened after having just been used. She licked for all she was worth, and when he came again, Batgirl quickly swallowed every drop. * * * As Wonder Woman was fastening the Batgirl costume's utility belt, Robin, now dressed, grabbed her shoulders and said: "One last kiss." Wonder Woman reached up to embrace the Boy Wonder and return the kiss, but in so doing, she let go of the utility belt. It clattered on the floor of the Batcave and loosened one of the tablets Batgirl had used to erase the memory of Catwoman the night before. Instantly, the gas enveloped the two lovers, who barely had time to unlock their lips from each other. A few moments later, the couple regained their senses. "Robin?" asked Wonder Woman. "How...? Where...? Is this the Batcave? How did I get here? Robin?" "Batgirl?" replied the Boy Wonder. "What are you doing here? Are you all right?" "I'm fine, I think," replied Wonder Woman. "But why did you call me 'Batgirl'? I'm Wonder Woman!" "Wonder Woman?" replied Robin. "No, you're not. Look!" Wonder Woman looked in a mirror. "Something's very wrong here," she said. "Why do I look like Batgirl? I am Wonder Woman!" "Wait here," said Robin. "I'll call Wonder Woman on the Justice League transmitter. She'll straighten this out!" "But I'm Wonder Woman!" protested Wonder Woman, as Robin attached a blindfold to her eyes and proceeded to the rendezvous point where Wonder Woman had earlier appeared. * * * While Batgirl was still lying on the floor in delight, Steve got up and refastened his pants. "Thank you, Diana," he said. "For a wonderful evening. I guess you were right. It's the costume that makes a woman a wonder." "Glad to be of help, Steve," said Batgirl. "How about some breakfast?" asked Steve. "Sure," replied Batgirl. "Just let me put some clothes on." "No need to on my account," said Steve with a crooked grin. "Oh?" replied Batgirl. "I should go to the restaurant naked? You are a rascal, Steve Trevor!" Just then, the phone rang. It was a special tone that Wonder Woman had told Batgirl meant that the Justice League communicator was being used to make contact. "I'll get it!" cried Batgirl. On the other end of the line was Robin. Batgirl listened, then said: "I'll be right there!" and hung up. She turned to Steve and said: "Sorry Steve, but I'll have to take a rain check on that breakfast. Maybe we'll do it again sometime." "'Maybe we'll do it again sometime'?" repeated Steve with incredulity."Look, Diana, we just had the most fantastic lovemaking session in the history of men and women. Your body was made for sex! And now you want to give me the brush-off because of a lousy phone call? Who was that, anyway? Another lover?" "So my body was 'made for sex'?" replied Batgirl, aghast at the thought of Robin, the Boy Wonder, being mistaken for a lover. "Is that all I am to you? A body for sex? Well, Steve Trevor, perhaps you'd better go! Maybe you can find someone else with a Wonder Woman costume to wear for you! Or, better yet, get one to wear yourself while you masturbate!" She added as she slammed the door. I guess that Steve Trevor isn't such a great catch after all, she thought. Wonder Woman can have him! After the two heroines returned to normal, Wonder Woman asked Batgirl: "Well, how did it go? I mean, having super powers isn't all it's cracked up to be, is it?" "I guess not," agreed Batgirl. "And I'm sorry about you losing your memory and all that. I should have been more careful storing those capsules in my utility belt. By the way, why was it loose? Were you taking it off or something?" "I don't remember," replied Wonder Woman. "Maybe I had to go to the bathroom." "Yeah, that must be it," agreed Batgirl. "I can tell because my stomach doesn't feel so good." "Neither does mine," said Wonder Woman. "And I have this funny taste in my mouth." "So, what did you do during your one day as Wonder Woman?" asked Wonder Woman. "I spent it as Diana Prince," said Batgirl. "You see, Steve Trevor came over to your apartment and...," "Oh!" exclaimed Wonder Woman. "That's right! We needed to review some files. I forgot to tell you. I guess you had a pretty boring night after all. I'll bet you'll be glad to get back into action as Batgirl." "Not until Barbara Gordon's had something to eat first," replied Batgirl. "Oh! Look at the time!" exclaimed Wonder Woman. "I'll have to get back to the office before I'm missed. I'd love to stay and chat, but I've got to get going. Perhaps we'll try it again sometime?" "Not on your life!" replied Batgirl. "I'll stay being Batgirl, and you stay being Wonder Woman!" When Barbara Gordon finally got home, she was famished. She went to her refrigerator, opened the door, and said to herself: "Let's see. Pickles and strawberry ice cream. That should do the trick!" Then, she thought to herself: "Pickles and ice cream?! Why do I crave pickles and ice cream?! Oh, no! It couldn't be!" When Diana Prince showed up at work, she couldn't understand why Steve Trevor was giving her the cold shoulder. Sure, she was a few hours late that day, but she had been late before. Then, at the end of the day, she was called into Steve's office. Maybe now I'll get an explanation, she thought. Instead, she received a severe tongue-lashing from Steve, during which he criticized her performance, muttering something about what had happened the night before, and earlier that day. Perhaps Batgirl had pissed Steve off somehow. At the end of the tirade, Steve handed Diana a pink slip, and told her her services were no longer required. Diana was stunned. She had been fired! She quickly left the office, not bothering to clean her desk. She went home determined to find out what had happened. She would find Batgirl and go over every detail of the night before. Diana Prince changed into Wonder Woman and took to the skies in her invisible plane. She was flying toward Barbara Gordon's apartment when she spied a bank robbery in progress. Quickly, she swooped down, landed her plane, and entered the bank. She said to the robbers: "Mind if I join the party, boys?" One of the bank robbers turned around and cried: "Wonder Woman! Get her, boys!" One of the robbers lunged at the superheroine. Wonder Woman tried to step aside, but was hit directly in her midsection. With a "Whoof!" she fell over. The robber fell atop her and raised his fist to strike another blow. Surprised at her miscalculation, Wonder Woman strained her muscles to throw off her attacker, but found that her super strength was gone! The crook then landed a blow to her temple, knocking the superheroine unconscious. Fortunately for Wonder Woman, sirens from the approaching police forces frightened away the robbers, who made a clean getaway. Moments later, the police arrived. Shortly thereafter, Batgirl appeared, then Robin. Batgirl couldn't understand why Robin was staring, almost leering at her. The two masked crimefighters approached Wonder Woman, who was just then regaining consciousness. "What happened?" asked Batgirl of the fallen superheroine. "Batgirl!" exclaimed the injured Amazon. "I don't know. But somehow, I lost my super powers. I can only think that it must have been related to our switch." "I've been feeling strange, too," replied Batgirl. "Maybe we'd better check the equipment in your plane." "Everything checks out," Wonder Woman said to Batgirl. "I don't know how I could have lost my super powers unless... Wait a minute! Batgirl! Just EXACTLY what did you and Steve do last night?" Batgirl told the story. "You did WHAT?!" exclaimed Wonder Woman. "Oh no! I'm ruined!" "What's wrong, Wonder Woman?" asked Batgirl. "I thought you and Steve were, well, you know..." "No, Steve and I are NOT 'you know'!" cried Wonder Woman. "We couldn't be! It is an Amazon curse: If I have sex with a man, I lose my super powers! Permanently!" "Well, you were the one who said super powers didn't matter, so I guess that's one on you!" said Batgirl. "You little snit!" cried Wonder Woman. "I'll..." Wonder Woman reached for Batgirl. But before the larger woman could land the intended blow, Batgirl gave her a chop in the back of the neck that sent the despoiled ex-superheroine reeling. The next day, Barbara Gordon got her worst fears confirmed. "Are you sure doctor?" she asked. "Congratulations!" replied the doctor. "Now, for the record, what is the father's name?" "Er..., I don't know," replied Barbara. "In that case, Miss Gordon," said the doctor as he cleared his throat, "May I recommend some counseling?" "No thank you, doctor," said Barbara. "I want to keep the baby." A few months later, when she began to "show", Barbara Gordon was disowned by her strait-laced father and forced to quit her job at the library. She entered the Wayne Foundation's Home for Unwed Mothers. She had given up her activities as Batgirl immediately after learning of her condition, for fear that her vigorous physical activities might harm her baby. She had attempted to contact Diana Prince to find out who the father was, but Miss Prince was nowhere to be found. Due to the memory-erasing gas, Wonder Woman could not recall the details of that night, so she would have been of little use anyway. Barbara considered that it might have been one of the Catwoman's henchmen. But since the Catwoman had not harassed her since their earlier encounter, Barbara believed that her Batgirl identity was still unknown to the villainess. So, Barbara concluded that Catwoman was not responsible. Meanwhile, Diana Prince had not gotten pregnant with Steve Trevor's child, and thus had no grounds for a paternity suit. (Her sexual harassment case was thrown out, since she could not relate her experiences, owing to her loss of memory.) So she found a new job as a waitress at a truckstop outside of town. She had tried to return to her role as Princess of Paradise Island, but when her sister Amazons learned of her despoliation, she was defrocked, stripped of her costume and accessories, and banished. To supplement her income, she wears a replica of her Wonder Woman apparel she bought at a Halloween costume store, much to the satisfaction of her clients. The Catwoman also retired due to pregnancy, as, using the Batcomputer, Robin found her. Robin's newfound confidence had the effect of bringing Catwoman under his charms, and soon the pair had had intimate relations. Catwoman, too, had been infatuated with the young teenager's bulge in his tights. Robin never saw Batgirl again, Batgirl never saw Steve Trevor again, and Wonder Woman never saw Robin again.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11094.txt

Matt H.

Irene Chapter13 Last one

"Okay, girls, how shall we do this? I think maybe the best deal would be to go up to Irene's room where we will have more room to sprawl some bodies around. Irene, is the book still in your room?" "Yes, Dad, it's there. All of us can lay on the bed and you can use one of us as the sample to show Elaine whatever you want. Or maybe even a couple of us to show her some differences in girls' pussies. We have gone through this before, so we know pretty much what will go on. Elaine can watch as you go through the parts list on the pussy and explain what they are and what some of them do." I said, "Okay, let's all go up and get settled. We can begin with the bit about all the parts and go from there." So we all went up the stairs into Irene's bedroom. The girls got on the bed, and I picked Irene as the sample for Elaine to look at as I went through the class. She got set up on the bed with her legs apart and her pussy ready. I took one hand, as I had before, and opened it up wide. Elaine opened her eyes quite wide, staring at the pussy. "Gee, Mr. Stone, I've never seen a pussy open like that before. It's all pink and wet looking. This is very interesting already." I started at the top and showed her each item and explained what its name was and what its function was. When I got to the vagina, I paused and said I had forgotten something. Letting go of her pussy, I went downstairs and picked up a package I had brought home, and took it back up with me. When I got there, I told the girls I had a surprise for all of them. I opened the package and took out a speculum and showed it to them. "This, girls, is a speculum, the instrument a doctor uses to open your pussy for that horrible exam you all hate. I thought I would show you how it works and what he sees when he does the exam. It might give you an idea of what he does and how, and maybe the next time you won't be so nervous because you will know what's coming. I'm going to insert this in Irene's pussy and show you what the inside of the vagina looks like. So watch closely, and you will all have a chance to get close and have a good look. Irene, I have several of these, and you can have a look at one of the other girls' insides. Okay, girls, I explained to you about the parts of the pussy you could see. Now we'll look at one that is hidden inside called the cervix. It is actually the opening in the abdomen that the baby comes out of during childbirth. It is the neck of the uterus, also called the womb. It isn't very large as you will see, but it expands a great deal and stretches enough to let the baby through to the outside. The reason childbirth takes so long is to let that neck stretch large enough. Because it stretches so far, it also is what causes a lot of the pain during childbirth." "I'll put some lubricant on it and insert it in the pussy, and that will open the pussy enough so you can see inside to the back where you will see the cervix, a little round finger-like thing sticking out of the wall of the vagina. It's maybe a little larger than your thumb. So, here goes, and Irene, don't be afraid, this won't hurt at all. Just relax as much as you can. That will help the muscles at the opening expand." I put the lubricant on and gently inserted it in her pussy, then opened the mouth of the pussy as far as needed to see the cervix. I put the latch on to hold it open and stepped back. "Okay, girls, have a peek. You can also see all those membranes that make up the walls of the pussy." Gail and Elsie moved up close with Elaine and peered in, taking turns at looking in the narrow opening in the speculum. A bunch of 'Ohs' and 'ahhs' followed, and each girl had a good look inside. When they were finished, I asked if they saw the little hole in the middle of the cervix. They all nodded. "Okay, that is what the doctor is looking at when he does the exam. He uses a small scraping device to scrape some cells off the inside of that hole as well as the outside. He puts the scrapings on a microscope slide and sends it to a lab for inspection to see if there are any cancer cells there. So, it takes a couple of days, and then you call his office, and they tell you the results. That's all there is to that part of the exam." I removed the speculum from Irene's pussy and asked if anyone would let Irene see theirs inside. All three hands went up. Irene said she would like to see Gail's pussy, so Gail moved onto the bed and got into position. I showed Irene how I had opened her pussy and latched the speculum open so she could take her time and have a good view. She was very surprised at how it looked inside. "I never really thought about what it looked like inside, it was just there. Wow, that's great. Dad, I can't thank you enough for all this. It was really an eye-opener for me. I'll bet we are the only four girls around that have seen that." I told them that this was to be kept a secret, no mention of it outside this room. "Otherwise, I might have a line around the block of other girls wanting to see it too. They can watch the doctor if they ask to. Usually, he will let the nurse hold a mirror and props them up so they can watch the whole procedure. You girls can do the same. The only difference will be you can see him take the samples and put them on a slide. But now you know what goes on down there when you go in for that terrible exam. It isn't really so terrible now that you know and have seen what he does. So, are there any questions? If not, I'll take that thing out of Gail and let her relax." The girls looked at each other and shook their heads no. I removed the speculum and put it away. I told the girls that now I wanted them to all look at each other's pussies and note that each one was different, some were larger in some areas, some had larger inside or outside lips, some had the pee hole in a different spot. They all began to check out each other in pairs. They all had a good look and then looked at me for direction. Irene told me she was very glad we had a chance to see all these things. "That puts us in a very select group of girls. We know what's down there now. I guess now is the time that Elaine gets her big surprise, huh? I know I am ready for it, and I think the other girls are too, so let's begin the big adventure." I went through the same procedure I had with the other girls, and we had a great time watching Elaine as she had her first orgasm. Then the others listened to Elaine as she tried to describe the feeling she had during the orgasm. "I lost all track of time, and my whole body just went off by itself. It was like being on a cloud somewhere. I could feel all those contractions and the things my pussy was doing, but couldn't do a thing about them. That was truly amazing, the most exciting thing that ever happened to me. Wow, I sure am glad I came here today! This will change my whole life for sure. Irene, I owe you and the girls, and especially your dad a biiiiig thanks for giving me this education and that GREAT surprise you talked about. I can see now why you kept it a secret all this time. I can see a very bright future that wasn't there before. I had heard all those stories from girls about how their sex games went, and I wasn't sure I even wanted to try any of them. Some of the girls painted a rather bad picture about how it hurt, wasn't any fun, and things like that. Now I know it can be wonderful when done with the right person." "Elaine, you have had a great adventure."But it isn't something you want to spread around everywhere. What happened here today must stay here. I don't want any repercussions from parents, and I don't need a long line of girls waiting for their turn. And remember, don't have any kind of sex play until you get on the pill to protect yourself! The girls all nodded and said they would be very, very careful. After that, each had their turn, and a fine time was had by all. This brings to an end the saga of Irene and her friends. They eventually acquired boyfriends and had a great sex life. I have attempted to bring you a story combined with some education and humor. I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks to all of you who wrote and expressed your views of the story. There will be more stories at a later date. Matt H.

m/f/f/f, spank, w/s, inc?

Chapter 13

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/16083.txt

LEOTHEWISE

The Gagnons in Paris

"Wow, Alois, that's beautiful!" Gerard exclaimed, examining his cousin's erection. His own cock was twitching and growing with excitement as the two boys stood naked together. Alois' younger sister Marie Suzette stroked her brother's shaft. "It's 27 centimeters long," Marie said proudly, "And 8 centimeters thick. It's a wonderful prick, n'est-ce pas?" "You bet!" Gerard burbled. He was practically slobbering to taste it. Gerard was 15 and his cock was more modest, 20 centimeters long by 6 wide, but it gave him much joy, and his fertile testes fed a limitless supply of sperm which allowed him to ejaculate seven or eight times a day without effort. "Alois can cum at least eight times a day," Marie rattled off, a veritable encyclopedia of information about her brother's rigid prick. "He has wonderful balls and I love his butt, Gerard, see isn't it cute? It scrunches up when he cums and he shoots sometimes two or three meters!" Gerard just nodded, his eyes wide. "I've never seen a boy suck off another boy, could you boys do that for me please?" Marie pleaded, playing with her underage nipples, because they always itched something terrible when she got her brother hard. "Are you gay, Gerard?" "No," he said, "I'm bisexual. But yes, I'd love to suck Alois' beautiful cock and drink his cum. I bet he tastes good!" "It's good, man," Alois declared. "Marie lives for it, don't you?" "Yes!" Marie nodded, "And he makes so much, Gerard, really it is amazing. Why don't you suck each other and let me watch? I will masturbate while you do it." The boys agreed. Despite his bisexuality, Gerard had never 69'd, and Alois had never had a cock in his mouth at all. Marie's idea was a turn on to them. Marie was quite the little organizer and directed the boys to lie down on the carpet, heads to groins. Then she knelt down and took a quick lick on Gerard's dick while randy Alois rubbed her bare butt and stuck a finger in her sweet 10-year-old cunt. "You're going to love this cock, Alois, it's flowing already." "Yeah, Alois!" Gerard said through gritted teeth; his preteen cousin even for that brief oral encounter gave indisputable proof of a masterful suck technique. "She's a good cocksucker, to be sure!" "Come on, Marie, let me get my mouth on that sweet cock!" Alois begged, and Gerard moved his head at the same time to inhale his cousin's wonderful crotch smell and then opened his mouth and began deep-throating him. Though neither boy could speak with their mouths stuffed full of hard randy cockmeat, their bodies glowed with excitement and Marie was frigging herself senseless and encouraging them with practiced obscenities, a droll habit she had picked up from her very liberal cousins and their parents. "Suck that fucking dick! Come on, Gerard, worship my brother's huge cock! Alois, doesn't his prick taste good? Come on guys, fill your bellies with each other's tasty cock cream!" Being young, grossly oversexed, and frenzied with the novelty of the act, both boys exploded quickly and after letting his cousin's dick detumesce Gerard reluctantly pulled off and said, "Alois, that is the best tasting cum I have ever, ever had! It's wonderful!" Alois smiled, licking his lips, savoring his first load of cock cream (other than his own!) "I can see why Marie Suzette is such a cock-crazed slut," he said. "I never realized how good cum tastes!" "It's the best thing in the world!" Marie declared. "I want you guys to fuck me now, okay?" Gerard was instantly hard at that suggestion. "I never fucked a girl so young as you," he said, "But your pussy sure looks pretty." "Her twat's like a furnace, Gerard, hot and tight!" Alois said with a broad open smile. The children were so eager and yet totally innocent in their sexual adventures. Never a thought crossed their minds that anything they did might be immoral or illegal or in any way dubious at all. Incest, bi-sexuality--these terms meant nothing to them. Fucking and cumming meant everything. Marie doted on orgasm, Alois would sacrifice his life itself for a hard cum, and Gerard wasn't able to fall asleep without having had at least six ejaculations in a day. Gerard got down between his cousin's legs and ate out her cunt, something Alois didn't do very much, and she started orgasming right away, getting even wetter. His cock throbbed with horny life and he sank into her, thrusting gently at first then harder as she begged him to fuck her brains out. Alois had never done a threesome and was kind of at a loss until he began to notice the flexing of Gerard's buttocks. Marie had so often commented on how cute Alois' butt was when he fucked and especially when he came, and he began to share his sister's fascination. He playfully rubbed his hands over Gerard's asscheeks and marveled at their softness, yet they were firm and muscled too. Growing bolder, he pulled them apart and smiled at how the boy's anus winked at him, almost like an invitation. Alois' huge prick brushed up against Gerard's butt and the soft silky skin aroused him such that a dollop of sweet pre-cum leaked out. Briefly Alois thought about fucking Gerard's ass then decided that he'd think about that some more, meanwhile he was going to give Marie his dick to suck on. "Gosh, Marie, you really fuck good," Gerard marveled. His cock slid in and out of her tight little cunt with ease and she was so enthusiastic. His was only the second cock that she had properly fucked. Aside from her brother she'd so far only seduced one other boy and he was a bit of a disappointment, an eleven-year-old schoolmate whose cock was small and didn't squirt yet, but nonetheless it was fun to experiment. Marie really liked Gerard's cock and thought he had a good technique. He poked his cock not merely forward but to the left and to the right too, stretching her in ways that Alois' monster-dick hadn't. She loved to be filled up with cock and she gripped him with her tight cunt-sheath and he just stammered, "Damn! Merde! So fucking hot and tight!" Gerard grabbed his cousin's hips and roughly pulled her toward him, getting so deep into her his balls bounced against her asshole. "Bite my nipples!" she begged him. Alois was really turned on and made a mental note to try that himself sometime, and almost without thinking about it he noticed himself cumming in his sister's mouth. "Oh, sweet fuck!" Alois murmured, relishing his hot spend. How hungrily his little sister swallowed his tasty load! Gerard then pulled out and wanked his cock and sent a huge load of jism all over Marie Suzette's chest and belly. "That's an OOB cum!" he declared, adding "out of body, get it?" The saucy child lazily played with her cousin's cum, swirling it around on her nips and into her belly button, and scooping it into her mouth. She smiled coyly as she painted her lips with his gooey white semen. "Was I good?" she asked him, "Did I give you a good fucking Gerard?" "You bet!" the boy wheezed. "You're the best fuck I ever had Marie, really hot!" "You fucked a lot of girls?" Alois asked. "Not really. Three girls counting Marie." "Alois' fucked four girls!" Marie boasted. "And according to one of them, when word gets out about my cock, I'm going to have a parade of girls to pick from," Alois added with insouciant charm, not sounding boastful. "I love to fuck," he said, again with such boyish innocence that none of them remarked on the statement's fatuity. Gerard asked, "Have you fucked your mom? She's a real fox, Alois, I'd sure like to fuck her!" "Yeah, I think she'd be great to fuck," Alois agreed, "But she's kind of square, you know. Mama and Papa are both really conservative, aren't they Marie?" "Well, kinda," Marie said, "But Alois beats off in front of her and she holds her tits up for him so he can blow his load on them. A lot of mothers don't do that." "Hey, that's neat!" Gerard said. "I haven't fucked my mom either, but I think Pierre has," referring to his sixteen-year-old brother. "I mean, once when Dad was in Toulouse on business, I could hear her fucking someone in the bedroom and I think Pierre and I were the only other ones here, so that's what I think. Anyway, there's always hope. But gee, your mom is really sexy. I love her tits." "I wish Mama and Papa were more modern like your parents," Marie declared. "You know, Mama was actually shocked when Alois and I first fucked in front of them. I mean, really, how backwards!" Temporarily fucked out (at least the boys were), the three kids got dressed.Marie kissed them both on the lips, letting them taste Gerard's cum, and the boys kissed each other too. "You want to look at my stamp collection?" Gerard asked. "Sure," Alois said. "I kind of like stamps. How long have you collected them?" "For about four years now. I have a nice collection of late 19th century France and a complete collection of Ireland from 1948." They also played a Nintendo game and watched a football (soccer) match on the satellite dish. Understand that the actors in our little drama are perfectly normal children, with the same interests and curiosity as others, but in addition, they are prodigiously sexed and strive to attain orgasm at every opportunity. That night at dinner, Alois excused himself and went to the bathroom and masturbated. He didn't feel it appropriate to jerk off right there in his Aunt and Uncle's dining room. Plus, this family always was dressed, while his family ordinarily went nude. But Alois couldn't hold off from masturbating as he kept staring at his Aunt's fabulous bosom, which threatened to pop out of her almost see-through blouse. After dinner, with Pierre, the kids went outside to walk around the garden, and Marie asked him if it was true that he'd fucked Angelique. Pierre blushed but admitted he had, "but only twice." "That's awesome, man!" Alois said, "Fucking right on!" "You mean you fucked her two times or two different occasions?" Gerard asked. Pierre cleared his throat and overcame his embarrassment. "Don't tell her I told you guys, okay? She said we should probably keep this secret because she wasn't sure how you would react, Gerard. She thinks you're kind of a blue nose, you know?" Gerard giggled. He'd just fucked with both his cousins a few hours ago, and now he learned his mom thought he was a blue nose! "I fucked her each time until I couldn't get it up again. Must have been about eight times apiece. Fuck, she is hot, Gerard! And she's got the best ass I've ever seen." "Did you fuck her ass?" Alois inquired. He still remembered Gretchen Verclos and her unabashed eagerness to have his prick up her butt. It made his cock twitch just thinking how fun that had been. "Man, how could I resist?" Pierre replied. "I mean, have you looked at that butt? It's fucking perfect! Mom's a great looking woman, Alois, she's got super tits and she's pretty, but I would be a happy man if she and I were Siamese twins connected cock to asshole. Fuck!" "I don't know if I'd like to fuck that way," Marie Suzette mused. She picked some flowers and stuck one in her hair. "It must hurt." Alois said, "I fucked a girl that way, Marie. She really liked it." Marie pouted. "Just be careful, Alois. Some of those girls out there are bitches. They want to just use you for your cock. Remember, I'm your sister and you should be concentrating your fucking on me, okay?" "Wow, you two fuck, huh?" Pierre exclaimed. "That's mucho coolo!" "And guess what, Pierre?" Gerard put in. "Alois and I sucked each other off today, too!" "And Gerard fucked my pussy," Marie added. "That's great," Pierre said. "This is going to be a great time, we can all fuck around. Gerard's bi, you know that of course. Myself, I'm straight, but we can still fuck around. I like getting my cock sucked and I don't care if it's a guy or a girl." "Well, doesn't that make you bi, too?" Marie wondered. "Nah. Being bi means you have no sexual preferences, you like guys and girls equally, right Gerard?" "Yeah, I guess so. I don't know. I just like cock, that's all I know for sure," Gerard answered. Alois thought about this. He'd enjoyed sucking his cousin's prick, and the taste of the cum was indescribably good, but he really preferred fucking girls, so he decided he was straight too. Not that it really mattered a snicker doodle, fucking is fucking, he reasoned, but that's what he was: straight. "Let's go to the tree house and fuck," Pierre suggested. "Okay!" Marie yipped, jumping up and down, "I wanna get screwed by you, Pierre! I've only had three cocks so far, I want more, more!" "You fucking little slut," Pierre said with a smile, stroking his cousin's blonde hair. "Come on, let's get going!" The kids climbed up the ladder to the quite spacious tree house. There were two mattresses, rather musty and stained. "Gerard and I fuck up here pretty often, hope you don't mind the cum stains," Pierre said apologetically. Marie unfastened Pierre's pants and took out his prick. It hardened quickly in her nimble hands. It was maybe about 4 centimeters shorter than Alois' and very fat. Like Gerard, he had big balls. And when he was naked, Marie almost came on the spot, drinking in his handsome body, nicely sinewed and hard from swimming and football. Marie was really turned on by older boys and wanted to start fucking full-grown men too. That kid from school just wasn't what she wanted. "I'm so fucking horny, Pierre," she declared. "Please hurry up and fuck me." She lay down on the mattress with her skirt up on her belly and unbuttoned her blouse to show her almost flat chest. Pierre reached for those perfect little bumps and ran his hands over them in a masterful way. "God, Marie, they're so pretty!" he whispered, almost choking. His cock was so hard he knew he had to fuck his pretty little cousin right away. "Marie, I want you to turn over on your stomach," Pierre said. "I like to look at a girl's butt while I fuck her, especially the first time." "Okay," Marie agreed, flopping over. Alois stood jerking his prick, then remembered Gerard was right there, and he cocked an eyebrow at the older boy. Gerard understood the implicit question and nodded vehemently and knelt down to suck Alois. Damn, Alois thought, Gerard is a super sucker, almost as good as Marie. "Hurry up, Pierre, put that cock up my hot little cunt!" Marie barked, frantic with lust. "All in good time, my delicious little slut cousin," Pierre said. Marie was beside herself and was falling under her oldest cousin's sway. He was so good looking, so strong, and so adult acting! Yvette had explained that men, and boys, are entitled to make up their own minds as to when and how they would fuck girls and where they would blow their wads; Pierre was the first boy who took real control of her, and she responded instinctively to it. If he told her he was going to fuck her butt, she would have gone along. She knew she could resist nothing he wanted; in fact, where cock was concerned, Marie Suzette could never resist! After inspecting Marie's bottom at considerable length, Pierre finally put the tip of his prick to her buttery little slit. His cock tip was twice or three times the size of her aperture, but Pierre could care less. He was going to enter this wonderful little hole and judge for himself just what a hot fuck she was. It did not surprise him at all when his knob easily entered her hole, her well-explored and repeatedly-fucked cunt expanding quickly to take his charger. Holding her by the waist, Pierre groaned with delight as she wiggled under him, and she held the bedding with clenched fists, thrashing her head about and urging him on "Fuck me fuck me fuck me", like a broken record. He slid into her like a U-boat docking. Pierre's prick had a pronounced curve to it and it was very, very hard. This stimulated the sex-crazed child's cunt and tripped her to a sweet mini-cum. He playfully spanked her butt cheeks, and Marie Suzette giggled and panted, loving the sensation. Her ass was as hot as her cunt! "Hang on," Alois told Gerard. "I have an idea!" So saying, Alois stepped back from Gerard and went to his sister. He got on his knees and lifted her chin. Sticking his cock right over her nose, he let fly a huge cum. Marie hadn't been expecting it and blinked her eyes rapidly because so much of the goo landed right on her eyeballs! "Alois!" she screamed. "You've blinded me!" Alois laughed like a little boy, he was so pleased with his last-minute idea, and gosh, did that cum feel good coming out! He loved to cum in and on his sister. "Make her suck you off, Gerard," Alois suggested. "She's really fucking hot!" "Your sister has a lovely ass," Pierre commented. "Her cunt is excellent." Though his voice sounded flat and unexcited, it was a mere feint on Pierre's part. He had a fairly wide experience with girls (and a few women) and knew that the female wants to be dominated by a male who is serenely self-confident. By disguising his almost indescribable desire for his cousin, he brought her under his command, made this pliant cock-crazed child almost insane with the need to please him. "Lift your hips up, push yourself onto me," he told her, stroking her ass. "I want to be deeper inside you." "Yes, Pierre, yes!" she bleated. "You two, stand back!" Pierre ordered. "I want her for myself. Do not distract her with your cocks, she is going to serve mine. Suck each other off or fuck each other, but give me some room." "Okay, Pierre," Gerard said, deferring as always to his brother. Alois grinned, enjoying the game. He gave his cock to Gerard's mouth again. This little slip of a girl! Pierre mused. Only ten years old and fucking like a whore. He decided he would cum in her twice, or more. "O Pierre!" she mewled, "I wish your cock could go all the way through me and stick out my mouth! You feel so good! You are so strong!" "You're my little fuck toy, aren't you sweetheart?" "Yes, yes, fuck......toy....." Marie came hard.... "Oh God yes! Cumming, cumming! Fuck me, Pierre, ram my cunt! Use me for God's sake, hurt me!" Alois looked over sharply, momentarily distracted from Gerard's mouth. Marie had just said "hurt me", the very same thing Gretchen Verclos had said. Alois made a note to explore this matter further when he was alone with her. He wondered if she'd let him spank her and twist her nipples and stuff.Boy, that sounded like it would be fun! Pierre said, as if he were a college instructor, "I want you two to observe what Marie just said. 'Hurt me,' she said. If you examine the face of a woman when she is having an orgasm, the expression is all but indistinguishable from the face of a woman who is having her ass spanked or whipped. To the female, pain and pleasure are equivalent. It is the jagged whipsaw of their heightened senses that constitutes a woman's lust." Desisting from his speech, he refucked Marie, speeding up his thrusts. He said nothing when he ejaculated, in fact did not alter his thrusts at all. Marie did not even notice he had cum. He continued to fuck her, making her think he was still working on it. Then he smiled as his cock softened ever so slightly. He squeezed her tiny titties with both hands and said, "Marie, dear cousin! I should have told you that I just came in you. Hold on, I am going to fuck you all over again!" Marie was so aroused now she was cumming steadily, her cunt itched terribly and her nipples felt like someone was shoving stickpins in them, they ached so beautifully when Pierre twisted and pulled them! Meanwhile, Gerard was sucking Alois and jerking his own cock. The boys were so wrapped up in their fun they weren't even looking at Pierre and Marie. "Ram it into me, stud!" Marie cried out, in a paroxysm of lust. "Fuck my brains out!" God, she loved this cock--only Alois' was better! Gerard was like a peanut compared to Pierre's cashew and Alois' brazil nut. Alois loved the way Marie was talking, so dirty and contrary to mama's prudish ways. It was very exciting to call a cock a cock rather than a penis, and say "cum" not "orgasm". Why did their parents have to be so old-fashioned? His thoughts on the matter were put aside as he felt his semen bubble up from his balls, shoot up his shaft, and out into the mouth of his cousin. Gerard nearly choked on the quantity of sperm Alois thrust into his throat. When at last Pierre blew his second load, Marie was totally fucked out. This had never happened to her before. She was totally sated. She felt at peace. Pierre came so hard it was almost painful. He gritted his teeth. Orgasms this intense were difficult but memorable. The only other times he came this hard was when masturbating when he used a technique he'd discovered just this year: never touching the tip or shaft, just manipulating the base of the penis. His long wand of love would wobble like a drunken sailor and when eventually the discharge hit, it would feel exactly like it did when he came in someone. The cum would fly hither and yon, spotting the carpet, hitting the walls, sticking to the TV set. Gerard said, "Pierre, isn't she a hot fuck? I never knew girls as young as that fucked." Pierre plopped down on the only chair in the tree house and dug out a handkerchief from his pants. He wiped his sensitive cock clean. Marie rolled over on her back with her legs wide open and put her hands over her small breasts. They felt so aroused still! Pierre lectured them. "Listen, Marie is a perfectly normal girl. Sex is sex, right? Why should a girl have to go without when she wants it? As long as she can get her cunt open enough for a cock to go in it, I said, let them fuck!" Gerard nodded. Alois raised a fist and said, "Right on!" Marie blinked, her smile evocative. Her dainty little fingers played with her pussy lips and clit, and she shivered happily.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/13023.txt

Lord Malinov

Slip of the Tongue

"Follow me," Kevin said in an excited whisper, waving me on as he started climbing the hillside. "What?" I asked, close behind, grabbing the trunk of a small tree and pulling myself up the steep incline. "You'll see," he said with a grin. I had known Kevin since high school and understood at once that we were up to mischief. I followed him through a thick nest of bushes before we climbed a large boulder. Kevin sat down on the edge of the rock and opened the leather binocular case hanging from his shoulder. "Deer?" I asked. "Kind of," Kevin said, smiling broadly. "Take a look, just past those trees over there." I lifted the glasses to my eyes, aimed them past the conifers, and focused. A small blonde woman was unbuttoning her blouse. My jaw fell open. I lowered the binoculars and looked again with my naked eye. "The showers?" I asked, knowing the answer. "Can you believe it?" Kevin asked. "I love this spot. Sit down. You can still see everything, and there's no way anyone will see us up here." I took a seat on the mossy boulder and raised the lenses. With a glimpse of Carol, a friend of Kevin's wife, a lanky dark-haired nude woman pushing her sandals under a wooden bench, I felt a shudder through my heart. I scanned the whole tent. "Are they all . . . ?" I started to ask. "Yup. The whole gang needs a shower. Pete drenched them in that pea-green lake water when he tipped the boats. We're going to have to buy him a beer." "Does he know about this?" I found Sarah, Kevin's wife, pushing down the bottom of her bathing suit. Her ass shone glistening white in the bright light of the afternoon sun. My blood caught fire, and I struggled to breathe. "Just you and me, buddy. But you have to let me have a turn." I reluctantly surrendered the spy glasses. "Didn't I tell you to buy a pair?" He chuckled as he aimed the binoculars over the short canvas wall. "I never go camping without mine. Not since I found this spot. Oooh, isn't she sweet?" "Who?" I asked, shading my eyes as I tried to distinguish the tiny figures below. "The one with the tits," Kevin said. "Look at those nips!" "Angie?" I asked, trying to remember names I hadn't really learned yet. I'd known Sarah since college, but I'd just met the rest recently. "Angela," said Kevin. "That's right, Angela. Squeeze those titties. Momma." "Let me," I said, reaching for the binoculars. "In a minute," said Kevin, pulling away. "Let me watch her pull down her pants. Oh, yes. I guessed she shaved." I squinted at the distant images, desperate to see. Kevin tapped my arm with the glasses. "Here," he said. I tried to find Angela's bare cunt but was distracted by Terri's little brown muff. "She was wearing a bikini at Jake's bar-b-que last weekend, and the wet fabric was clinging to her pussy lips. I suspected she was shaved clean. Besides, Sarah said Angela has a daddy complex, and women like that usually shave." "Sure," I said, following Sarah into the shower. I had known my friend's wife for six years, but I had never seen her naked. Well, there were a few drunken nights when I'd imagined her that way, but Sarah looked better than I'd ever dreamed. She faced our direction as she turned on the shower. Watching her squeal as the chill water struck made my dick throb. "Wow." "Tell me," said Kevin. "What's cooking?" "Oh, Terri's bending over. What a hot little pussy." "Pete says she fucks him like crazy. All kinds of kinky stuff." "Yeah?" I asked, getting horny as hell as I watched Sarah soap her breasts. "Lots of hot games. She likes to be spanked. You know, stuff like that." "Trip," I said. Sarah arched her back and rinsed her hair. I nearly lost it as she tensed her round ass tight. "One time, when we were out drinking, Pete asked me if I'd come over and help out, you know, like a threesome." "Did you?" I asked. I stole a quick peek at Angela's pink lips but then went back to staring at Kevin's naked wife. Sarah looked so fine I couldn't care about the rest of the ladies. "Nah," said Kevin, taking the binoculars from my hand. "Sarah would never go for it, and there's no way I could keep fucking her best friend a secret. Ah, show me your pussy, Angela. That's a good girl. If I were still single, I'd have gone for it." "I guess so. Maybe I could lend them a hand." I laughed. "Seriously, talk to Pete. Terri's hotter than hell, and if they considered me, they'd do you. Man, I love Angela's titties. This is her first time up here." "How long you been watching them shower?" I asked. "Since last summer. I went hiking and was lost for a while. I came down that way and sat here to rest. I caught Carol playing with herself in the shower, and now I sneak up here every chance I get. Come on, Terri. I'll spank your bottom." "No shit? Last summer?" "The trip before the last time you came with us. I wanted to show you then, but you had that foxy babe, and you wouldn't come with me." "Chris?" "Little tits, black pussy hair, bitty ass and long fucking legs." "Fucker!" "Sorry, buddy. I don't pick who takes a shower. I would have closed my eyes, you know, respect, but she was just too hot." I laughed and wrenched the binoculars away. "You owe me," I said. "Where's Sarah?" "Beats me. I've seen her naked. I don't have to climb rocks for that." "She's great," I said. "I love Sarah's ass." "Gimme those," said Kevin. "Let me find Carol." "Over in the corner." "Hah! There you are, you little bitch! Eat me, you wench. I hate that bitch. She never stops giving me crap. But she never takes a shower without playing with herself. She just needs a piece of Kev. I'd fuck that nasty look off your face, you bitch!" Kevin yelled a bit louder than I would have thought safe. He laughed and handed me the glasses. I stared at Sarah for a while while she soaped her legs, catching quick glimpses of her pussy lips. "Have you ever caught, you know, two of them?" "Girl games?" Kevin prompted with a chuckle. "Nah, I think they do that in the tent. But you know the blonde, Cindy?" "Yeah?" I said, scanning the shower, looking for her. "Is she down there?" "I think so. Over by the bench." "Yeah." I said, finding my prey. "She's gorgeous." "Tell me about it. We once picked up this chick in college who looked just like her." I let Cindy linger in the magnification. Her damp golden hair fell around strong shoulders. Her nipples stood tight as cherries atop her big breasts. Full hips framed her nearly naked pussy. She turned, and I realized she looked like a girl I had known all too well. Susan Jones. Susie. My girlfriend for half of my junior year at college. Susie and I broke up because I wouldn't lick her pussy. I was young and stupid, and one night she pushed her cunt in my face, and I balked. Susie wouldn't talk to me for weeks. The thing was, I really liked her, and so I hounded her until I finally convinced her to give me another chance. Susie came over, and I devoured her little blonde pussy, my first. I was hooked; I've been a devoted cunnilinguist ever since. But I only tasted Susie's cunt once. We went to a party the next Saturday night, and just after we got there, Susie turned pale and ran out. I never heard from her again. Every time she saw me, she ran. I have always regretted letting her get away. I swallowed and turned the binoculars back toward Sarah, watching as she talked to Carol. Terri dried herself just beyond them, rubbing her ass hard. It was all too hot. "It was my birthday," Kevin said. "Sarah and I had been dating a few months, and we got pretty drunk. We were downtown, in Westport, and Sarah runs into this blonde who looked just like Cindy. They start jabbing, and next thing I know, we're going back to her place for a little smoke or something. I was holding my breath, hoping one thing would lead to another." "Did it?" "We weren't there ten minutes before this chick starts playing with Sarah's tits. Buddy, my dick was so fucking hard. Skirts are going up and panties coming down, and pretty soon I'm stroking my cock, watching this bitch go down on Sarah. The blonde's ass was in the air, and I can't believe how wet her pussy gets, and she's got her tongue all over Sarah's pussy. I was ready to shoot my load, just sitting there." "No way," I said, watching Sarah's tits bounce as she explained something to Carol."So I don't know what to do, so I put my dick in Sarah's mouth. I wanted to boff the blonde, but you know, I wasn't sure that would be cool, so I let Sarah suck on me. Then she starts to scream like there was no tomorrow. I've never seen her so hot. I mean, she always comes when I fuck her, but not like that. Fucking wild. I just stepped back and watched her thrash, pulling this chick by the hair hard into her wet cunt. It was so cool." "I'll bet," I said, short of breath, staring at Sarah as she pulled on a pair of pretty white panties. "Then the chick shoves her cunt into Sarah's mouth and Sarah starts licking her. I couldn't believe Sarah would do that, but she had the blonde moaning so loud that I just managed to ram my dick into Sarah from behind before the cannon fired. There's nothing like watching chicks to get me off." "Yeah," I said. "Sarah made me promise never to tell anyone. You know how it is. But you're my best buddy, so I'm trusting you to keep this a secret." "What about the blonde?" "You know, I saw her on campus a few times after that, but she always turned pale and ran away. I guess it was too much for them. Sarah was always trying to get me to lick her pussy after that, but I can't. You know? Pussy is for fucking. A man can't be sticking his nose in there." "Mmm," I said. "Nice tits." "Yeah, give me another look. Is Angela still naked?" "I think so. Over by the towels." "Yeah, hot little cunt. I could use a piece of that. Maybe you could distract Sarah while I . . . . " Kevin laughed. "In my dreams. Oh, well. Show's over." "Wow. Thanks, Kevin," I said, standing up and shaking the dreams from my head. "My pleasure, buddy," said Kevin, putting away the glasses. "Wake up early tomorrow and we'll catch the next show. Six, not a minute later. Terri is always up by then. You'll have to see her morning routine to believe it. I've been dying to share this secret with you. I'm so glad you could make the trip with us." "Yeah," I said. "You know I like you and I'll lick Sarah. Like. Like Sarah. I mean, I really like you guys. Let's go down and start the fire for dinner." I slid down the boulder and Kevin came behind me with a crash. I helped my friend up and dusted him off. "You all right?" I asked. Kevin looked a little pale.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/14516.txt

Teresa Birdsong

Songs of Thanks and Praise

"Look who's here, everyone!" someone said. Then another voice added, "Teresa! We didn't know you were coming!" "Well, since Teresa means 'the harvester', I thought I'd put in an appearance," I said. "Should be a lot of stories to gather up. How's everything going?" "The party's just getting started," the first speaker said. Of course I didn't recognize her--how could I? I'd never seen any of these people before, had I? I wondered how that woman knew who I was. Funny, I had pictured all the men as tall, dashing gentlemen wearing impeccably tailored suits and the women as classic ideal beauties, like Cleopatra or Helen of Troy. "Care for something to drink?" she asked. "Is that cider very strong?" I said. "I don't want to pass out before things get hot and heavy. Gotta save my strength and all that, you know." "Save your strength?" A great big guy was asking. I leaned my head back and looked straight up. He looked fairly tough to me, wearing that plaid shirt and old jeans. But not altogether threatening. Besides, he was grinning. "What are your plans for this solstice evening?" "I don't know," I said. "Thought I would just relax here for a while and meet everyone. Was I supposed to make plans? I'm new to all this. I mean, I've never actually been to one of these affairs, only read about them." "Right now we're waiting for Ceilti to light the bonfire and then all of us are going to dance to open the festivities," he said. "Want to join us?" I looked him over more closely as he drew nearer. Hmmm. Not bad. Wonderful deep voice. I started planning. "Sure," I said. Then I spoke to the rest of them. "Would you like to hear a story while we're waiting?" "What? You tell US a story!" A little bald-headed guy was laughing. "We're the ones who tell stories for YOU!" "I know, and I love them. But I've got this one story to tell. Indulge me. You can even review it if you want," I said. Then a skinny little woman wearing a leather miniskirt and big black boots yelled at them. "Pipe down, you pinheads!" she shouted. "Quit laughing. I want to hear Teresa's story." And they did pipe down. So I told my tale. Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, a woman was traveling down a dirt road. Her shoulders slumped and her feet dragged. She was cold, tired and thirsty because she had been walking all day, following the directions given her by some folks in the last town she'd come through. She was a musician, a troubadour, and she hoped to find generous and appreciative patrons in the next village. Night was near and she worried that she might not find shelter. Then, in the distance, she saw a faint light. Its flickering gleam enticed her, beckoned her. Intrigued and curious, she hastened toward it. As she approached she thought it strange that the light didn't grow in brightness. When she reached it, she found it partially hidden by the branches of a tree. Close by the tree she found a group of men and women who surrounded a kettle of hot, fragrant soup. They were reading manuscripts and books or scribbling lines on paper. They must, she thought, be the group of maverick writers she'd heard about from someone on the road. So intent were they on their work that they didn't notice her approach. "Hello," she said, announcing herself. "May I share your soup?" One man looked up and smiled. "A visitor! Please join us. We've plenty of soup here. You're welcome to all you need." He motioned to another man to bring a bowl and he gave her a generous portion. As he handed it to her, he said, "Sit. Rest. Eat. You're obviously hungry and tired." Someone brought her a tattered old pillow. She put it on the ground, sat down and began to eat. "Thank you so much. Are all of you writers?" "Yes, we gathered here to write and discuss our stories," one woman answered. "Meeting together helps us perfect our craft. We try to help and learn from each other." She looked at her companions. "Maybe she can help us decide." "Oh, I'd be happy to help you. Decide what?" "We want to know which of our stories is the best. Are you a writer?" "No, but I can read. My mother taught me." The woman glanced at the others around the fire. Some were murmuring to each other and gave the troubadour questioning looks. The man who had first greeted her gathered up five manuscripts. As he handed her one of the stories, he said, "We haven't been able to decide which story is the best. Perhaps a visitor could judge for us." The other writers shrugged their shoulders and nodded their heads in agreement. She finished her soup and began to read. After she finished the very first story, she had tears in her eyes. "This is the best," she said, "because it made me cry." But they handed her another one and urged her to read. She returned the second one, chuckling, and said, "This is the best because it made me laugh." They still weren't satisfied, so she read another. "This is the best," she said, "because it gave me hope." Of the fourth story, she said, "This is the best because I learned something new." But the last one was good, too. "This is the best," she said, "because it made me remember." One of the younger men asked, "You can't decide?" She looked at the group apologetically. "No, all of them were wonderful. I'm sorry I couldn't decide. I want to help you because you are so kind to offer hospitality to me, but I can't say which one is best. Each story was like opening a marvelous, unique gift. May I give you a present in return? I would like to sing you a song." She stood and centered herself, feet front and flat, hips and shoulders aligned, her head pulled to the night sky. She began to sing a song of thanks, a song of gratitude for the kindness these people had shown her. Her lungs filled with air, and then the sound began at the base of her spine, went up her back in a tingling wave, emptied into her arms and chest and finally focused through at the top of her head. It was a song like the twinkle of a star, light and clear, full of trills and frills, full of grace. She imagined the notes dancing in the air as they left her mouth. Her soprano voice filled her body. The music enveloped her as it swirled in the air. She sighed when she finished. She sat down, but no one else moved or spoke. The writers all stared at the troubadour. Had she offended them? Was her gift improper somehow? One of the women slowly smiled and then she spoke. "Thank you," she said. "We may never decide whose story is the best, but your song has inspired me to write a new story." "I'll get more paper," another woman said. "I'll get some ink for us," someone else said. The troubadour rested as she listened to the sound of quills scratching on paper. Later, she went to the entrance of the camp and found a ladder. Placing it against the tree, she climbed it and positioned the lamp so the light could be seen more clearly. As she looked at the horizon, she could see silhouettes moving toward the camp. More visitors, she thought. Maybe they saw the light. She hoped they could read. And sing. My throat was dry so I gulped down the rest of the warm cider. I felt a strange sense of relief after finishing my tale. I looked at my companions. They were all smiling. One man grinned broadly and winked at me. One woman had tears in her eyes. "Teresa, will you sing us a song?" the man in the plaid shirt asked. "Yes, of course. I have always wanted to sing for you, to give you a gift in my own way. But I know a song we can all sing together. The words are simple. Would you like to join me?" So we sang a song of praise together, warming our spirits, as the bonfire flared to life.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/15621.txt

Lord Malinov

Rock Me, Amadeus

"Here, here, come in here, there and sit down." Angelica shouldered a young man's inert frame as she guided his weak steps through the dim light, working slowly around the end table and with a shove, deposited him on the tweed upholstered sofa. With a groan, Steven struck the back of his head on the short divan's wooden frame. "Oh, sorry, baby, I'm so sorry, I'll get you some ice. Lean back, gently, here's a pillow. Don't close your eyes, baby. Promise me you'll keep them open." "Ooh," moaned Steven, bringing a cautious hand to his swollen lip. Trying to focus in the pale glow of the distant kitchen light, he looked to see if the lip was still bleeding. Softly, he felt the bump on his nose. "Damn," he said. Angelica scurried back on her heels, carrying a cloth wrapped around several ice cubes. "Here," she said, handing him the cool, damp towel. Kicking off her shoes, she reached for the light switch. "Let me get a look at you." Steven turned his dark eyes up to her, lost and grateful. "Poor baby," she said tenderly. "You look like you just lost a fight." Steven touched the terrycloth to his lip gingerly, slowly pressing it closer. He smiled, vaguely. "I think that's what happened. Lost the battle, anyway." "You're going to have a black eye, baby. You were so brave." Angelica knelt down beside the sofa and pressed her lips to Steven's chest. "Yeah, well, if you call stepping in front of a truck brave." "Bah," spat Angelica, "Jack is a brute. He had no right to beat you up." Steven winced. "Someone should have explained that to him earlier. He seemed to think he had a right. Bam, bam, pow. What did it take? Six seconds?" "Jack's a boxer. He knows how to fight." "Figures," said Steven, rubbing his calf. "I've got a hell of a bruise there." "You hit the fire hydrant when you fell." Angelica frowned as her soft hands rubbed Steven's belly. "That was the only thing I hit, well, except the cement." "You didn't defend yourself, you know, baby. Why didn't you put up your dukes?" Angelica raised her hands in a defensive pose. Steven lifted his left hand, a strong, sturdy looking paw into the light and smiled. "I don't think it would have helped, but I didn't dare. My hands are my fortune. My face was just for show. I'm a musician." Angelica took his hand to look more closely at the talented fingers and then rubbed them over her full, pink cheek. "You have beautiful hands," she purred. "If I broke a finger, I'd be out of work for six weeks. This," he said, indicating his roughed face, "will only cost me a few kisses." "No, baby, it won't cost you kisses. Not from me." Angelica leaned up and kissed the unbruised corner of his mouth. "You were my hero. So brave." "So stupid," said Steven. "No, baby, not stupid. Jack acted like a child, bursting into the bar and making his demands. You refused to let him push you around." Steven put his hand on the back of Angelica's head and teased her thick black hair. "He pushed me pretty good, I'd say." "With his fists, but not with his will. You stood up to him, even knowing, especially knowing that you couldn't hit him back." "Well," said Steven, his smile evidencing a little pride, "I couldn't let him talk to you that way. It wasn't right." "Oh, baby," said Angelica, tickling her fingers down her chest. "You were so brave. Jack's just a punk, thinking he can control everybody with his loud talk and his fists." "Angelica," said Steven, softly. "Yes, baby?" "What kind of relationship did you have with Jack? I mean...." "No, baby. We dated for a while. Nothing serious. Nothing real except that he's like all men, just jealous and possessive. I don't do anything he hasn't done." "So he was out of line," said Steven, shifting as Angelica's hand began to caress his prick through his trousers. "Absolutely. I told him we were through long ago. He wouldn't believe me. You were such a brave boy." She pulled at the zipper of his pants. "Some guys just don't know when to quit," said Steven. "There was this one guy, back at the Fall Symposium." Angelica maneuvered a thickening staff from out of the shadows of cloth. "I would have laid him out, if I didn't have to, you know." Steven held his hand in the light. "I know, baby," she said, kissing the hard flesh of his cock. "I would have knocked him flat with some Rachmaninoff, just Pow!" Angelica turned her head to smile at Steven, pushed her shiny black hair behind a pale ear and sank his rigid girth between her red lips. "Nobody grabs a lady's arm when she's out with me, that's for damn sure. Oh, that's good. Such a pretty smile, sucking my dick. I would have done him flat. My hands are very strong, you know, and fast. Oh, fuck, suck it Angie. He got a lucky punch, before I was ready. I would have crashed him like a cymbal. Just bam, bam, baboom. You are so hot, such a fine ass. Yeah, wiggle. That piece of crap had better stay out of my way. Next time, I'll arpeggio his face. You like that, don't you, like sucking my big prick, yeah, suck it Angie." Steven pressed her head down as the shudders ran from deep within to pour a fountain of hot spray from his cock. Angelica laughed with delight as his wet, watery orgasm spurted into her mouth. "Oh God," he moaned as his aching body trembled. "So good. So good. So good." "That's right, baby," said Angelica, licking her lips. "You're my brave, brave man." "And I'd fuck you good," he said, closing his eyes. "If I weren't so fucking tired." "You sleep," she said, kissing Steven's soft dick. "You can tell me that story tomorrow."

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/8550.txt

HotScribe

Dominatrix

"Mistress, I have brought a friend. His name is Greg." You look at the naked man who stands beside me. He's a bit younger than I, not bad looking, and quite nicely built. It's obvious from his chest, arms, and legs that he's spent a little time working out with weights. But that doesn't concern you as you reach out and grab his flaccid cock. "I hope you can do something with this...?" "Oh, yes, mistress." "That remains to be seen." You lift a foot and put it down on a chair. "Lick my cunt, slave." Greg drops to his knees, pushes his face up between your thighs. You feel his tongue sliding along your pussy lips, looping around your clitoris, then thrusting up into the depths of your cunt. You look at me. "You--I want to see you suck his cock." I bow my head slightly, then lie down on my side on the carpeted floor. Greg's cock jiggles around as he continues to run his tongue over and around and into your wet cunt. I grab his cock with my hand, move the skin back and forth along the shaft for a few times, then lean forward and cover the head with my mouth. You see the glistening glans appear and disappear from between my lips as my mouth moves up and down along his shaft, taking as much of him into my mouth as I can. Gradually, you see his cock grow bigger, harder. "Enough. Stand up, both of you." Greg and I quickly rise to our feet. As we stand side-by-side, you get to your knees and grab both our cocks in your hands and begin to pump them simultaneously. You rub the heads together, watch our transparent pre-cums mixing together. Then you hold both cocks firmly together and engulf both at one time with your mouth. Hungrily you suck on us, your tongue sliding around both cocks, savoring our taste. You take your mouth away, look at us. "Greg, get behind me--fuck me hard. You--get down on the floor." As Greg moves behind you, I sit down on the floor. Your mouth closes over my cock once more. I feel your hair brushing lightly against my abdomen and my thighs, tickling me slightly, but feeling good. Your hot mouth rises and falls on my cock, and I watch, excited, as Greg moves forward and plunges his hard rod into your cunt. I hear a muffled groan from you as he begins to ram in and out of you. I reach under and grab your dangling breasts, kneading them, squeezing them, running my fingers over the nipples, feeling them hard and erect beneath my touch. Your mouth comes off me. "Tell me when you're ready to cum," you say quickly, then I'm in you again. I pump upwards into your mouth as your teeth run along the edge of my pole. Greg's cock continues to pound into your cunt, his balls slapping against your thighs. He lubricates a finger, then slowly inserts it into your anus, to the first knuckle, stopping for a moment, then to the second. You moan loudly, and I feel the vibration from your mouth through my hard cock. Suddenly you gasp, sucking hard on my cock, as you cum, your body spasmodically jerking as your orgasm ripples through your body from the sensation of Greg's cock and finger thrusting into your cunt and ass, my cock shoving up into your mouth. "Almost ready..." groans Greg. "Me, too," I say, feeling the warm sensation deep in my balls. You release me, pull yourself from Greg's cock and finger. "Get up." I get to my feet quickly, and you grab our cocks, pumping them in unison. "Aaaahh---!" cries Greg as you yank on him. "Cover me!" you call out. "Cover me with your cum!" A moment later, unable to stop, Greg spurts his warm jism, its thin streams shooting onto your face and neck. "Ooooh--!" I moan as you pump me harder, then a few quick seconds later, I start to fire my own load, the wet sticky milky-white fluid spewing out into your mouth, running down your neck and trickling down over your breasts and nipples...

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/17580.txt

DG

Banana Split

"DG? Deej, honey? Are you awake?" I slowly opened my eyes. Cindy was crouched over me, her face framed by the waving fronds of a palm tree, the glossy sheaf of her hair brushing softly against my cheek. There are much, much worse sights to wake up to. I was napping, or had been napping, on the warm sands of a remote tropical island. Cindy and I were stranded in paradise, you see. "What is it, babe? Headhunters? A tiger?" "I want a coconut." "So have a coconut." "I can't find a nice one on the ground. Can you climb up and get me one?" I sat up with a sigh and found myself facing a stretch of ocean so blue it should smell like chlorine instead of brine. It wasn't easy working up any sort of indignation in this setting, but I gave it a shot, just for form's sake. "You want me to risk my neck climbing up into a palm tree like a giant monkey, when there's fruit all around us? You can't walk ten feet without tripping over a kumquat. You could swing a dead cat anywhere on the island and knock down a week's supply of bananas." She wrinkled her nose in that adorable way that she has. "But I'm thirsty. I've got this wild craving for coconut milk. Come on, you did it yesterday." This was true. Like a big show-off, I had demonstrated the proper technique for clambering up into the dizzying heights of a coconut palm. My fellow castaways - writers, pleasure seekers, and various hangers-on associated with the esteemed Guild of Internet Erotica Writers - had been duly impressed. They had enjoyed the coconuts I cut down, anyway. I stood up and stretched, casually surveying the picturesque little inlet we had discovered. Sheltered from the steady pounding of the big Pacific rollers by a crusty wall of coral, shaded from the strong tropical sun by overhanging palm trees and mangroves, it was a quiet little slice of heaven. We had taken off on our own after lunch to do a little exploring, just wandering aimlessly, and had chosen this secluded spot for a swim, and that had segued quite naturally into a siesta. Now it was late afternoon, and I realized I was hungry. I said "All right, I could use a snack too. You go pick us some of the easy stuff, and I'll go after that most dangerous of all prey, the coconut in its lair." "You won't regret it," she said with a smile, bumping her warm hip against mine. "I'll make sure of that." Cindy was wearing my white cotton undershirt, and nothing else. I was wearing silk boxer shorts and a dress shirt with the sleeves ripped off. One problem with being a castaway is that you don't get to select the outfit you're going to wear. When the whole ruckus had started, we had been enjoying a formal dinner on board our cruise ship. Cindy had dressed up in a tight little black sheath that was totally impractical for rowing a lifeboat, or for any activity more vigorous than lifting a fork to her mouth. I had been wearing a beautifully-cut gabardine wool suit that made me feel like James Bond. I could cry to look at it now - you don't want to know what sea water does to gabardine. Anyway, Cindy has a talent for making any outfit look terrific, and my undershirt was no exception. I was particularly fond of the way her perky nipples poked against the soft, sheer fabric. The fact that it just barely covered her ass was nice too. I watched her fondly as she strolled off into the jungly undergrowth, admiring the way her slim, tan legs and dark hair contrasted with the white cotton. Cindy was one delectable female, unless you happen to prefer the full-figured type. I grabbed a short length of rope with a loop on each end and found a palm tree that looked promising. The trick, which I picked up from the Nature channel, is to put your wrists through the loops with the rope around the tree, as if you'd been arrested by the beach patrol. Then you can easily hold yourself in position by putting your bare feet against the trunk and leaning back against the rope. You climb the tree by sliding the rope up the trunk in quick little twists as you take small steps. Just don't look down, and don't do it on a windy day. I made it to the top of the tree and managed to hack off several ripe coconuts with the knife conveniently supplied in our lifeboat. Then I took a moment to enjoy the view and get my bearings. Shading my eyes against the glare, I spotted the larger cove where we had made our landfall and set up camp, a few miles away. Here and there along the ribbon of white beach were little groups of people chatting and relaxing, playing in the surf, and generally enjoying themselves. The Guild's annual Spring Workshop is really just an excuse for a bunch of hedonistic friends to get together and party, and we're not about to let a little thing like being stranded on on a tiny island interfere with our fun. As my buddy Bear put it, people pay through the nose for adventure travel these days, and we're getting to experience the real thing for free. Officially we're still lost and awaiting rescue, but I don't think anyone is in a big rush to be found. No ragged "HELP" signs are laid out on the beach with rocks. No towering bonfires are waiting to be lit at the first sight of a ship. I overheard Taria talking furtively on a cell phone yesterday, rescheduling her Lit. 101 class, but I'll bet she hasn't called the coast guard. A plane flew overhead this morning, and from the way people ducked out of sight you would have thought it was a Japanese Zero making a strafing run. As I was preparing to climb back down, I noticed some strange activity in a nearby clearing. What appeared at first glance to be the death struggles of a huge, fleshy insect turned out to be one of my male colleagues engaging in an athletic, sweaty bout of our favorite recreational activity with two of the nymphomaniac cheerleaders Bear had invited along. I made myself more comfortable and tried to pick up a few pointers. My eavesdropping was rudely interrupted when Cindy called up to me. "DG! Come on down, I got us all sorts of stuff. What are you looking at?" "Non-indigenous wildlife," I said as I shimmied back down the tree. "Here's a riddle for you: what has twelve tangled limbs, four bouncing breasts, and lots of school spirit?" "Ah yes, the cheerleaders," she said, raising an eyebrow. "Don't they ever sleep? I have no idea how they manage to keep their grades up." I couldn't tell whether she disapproved or not - Cindy can be hard to read at times. I looked with interest at the piles of freshly-picked fruit laid out on the sand. Ripe bananas, tender kumquats, furry little kiwis, luscious mangoes, and various other juicy delicacies that we haven't quite identified, none of us being a botanist or a chef. "Check out those bad boys," said Cindy, pointing proudly to what looked like bananas fed on Miracle-Gro. "I think they must be plantains," I said, examining the bunch. Each shiny, yellow-green fruit was easily twice the size of an average banana. "Not good eating unless you cook them. I can certainly see how they might catch a young woman's eye, though." "Hah. How about these?" She pointed to some oval green fruit with a dull, waxy skin. "Pussyfruit," I said with a lewd grin. "Exsqueeze me?" "You heard me - pussyfruit. That's what Kim calls them, anyway. Go ahead and cut one open, they're yummy." Cindy took the knife and sliced the end off one. The inside meat was a lovely, dark pink color, with a moist, rubbery texture. The open fissure running down the center of the fruit added to the resemblance. Cindy laughed and scooped out a glistening glob with her finger. "Mmm, it is good. Tastes a little like watermelon." "I always knew you'd like pussyfruit." "OK, wise guy, let's eat." I punched holes in a few of the big hairy coconuts, and we settled down to our high-fructose picnic. Cindy put a coconut to her mouth and tilted her head back for a long drink. Milk dribbled down her chin and throat. "Ahhh," she said finally. "That hits the spot." "Careful of my undershirt," I said around a big mouthful of mango. "I'm thinking of dressing up for the big luau tonight."She giggled fetchingly and then, after delicately licking her fingers clean, she peeled off the t-shirt, folded it neatly, and set it aside. "Much better," I said, suddenly a little hoarse. Despite the fact that we had been skinny dipping together just a few hours ago, the sight of her naked, loose-limbed form sprawled casually on the sand made my chest tighten and brought a familiar straining feeling to my loins. As she daintily stuffed juicy mouthfuls of fruit into her mouth, she gazed knowingly at my shorts. "What are you thinking about, big guy? Those naughty cheerleaders?" "No. Actually, I had this sudden mental picture of your cute little face all flushed and contorted with the joyful confusion of lust as I rammed your tight, hot pussy with one of those plantains." "Is that right?" Cindy's used to me blurting out stuff like that. As a writer, I try to get overripe baloney like that out of my system quickly so it doesn't end up in my work. "Yeah, pretty silly. Sorry." "Hmm," she said noncommittally. I saw her steal a glance at the plantains. "I mean, being so petite and all, you couldn't really handle something that big, it would spread you open like a... like a chicken laying a goose egg." "Shows how much you know. Just because you're not hung like a plantain, don't think I wouldn't enjoy it." I smiled. "Hung like a plantain, I like that. Very colorful." We looked at each other and started to laugh. Then she took a fresh coconut and tipped it up over her head. The stream of coconut milk missed her mouth by a mile, splattering against her throat and dribbling down her chest. "Oops," she said. "Now look what I've done." "Allow me." I eased her back onto her elbows and began to lick the milk off her neck, working my way down along the channel between her firm little breasts. The cloying sweetness of the milk blended nicely with the tang of sea salt and the familiar taste of Cindy's skin. More coconut milk splashed against the side of my face and coated her right breast. Some of it went into my ear. "Damn, this one just doesn't pour straight. Sorry about that." "Let me try." I took the nut and upended it over her torso, liberally coating her breasts and stomach and making sure that plenty dribbled down into the furry little crevice between her thighs. "Jeez, what a sticky, sloppy mess," I said, tossing the coconut aside. "You really know how to flatter a girl." She pulled my head down and held it firmly against her elegant bosom. I licked the milk off her breasts with long slow strokes of my tongue, making sure to occasionally bump against the hard, protruding nubs of her nipples. "How do I taste?" she asked, a little breathlessly. "Delicious. A little sweet, though. You need a little something." I found a ripe little kiwi fruit and squeezed it over Cindy like I was wringing out a sponge. She shrieked in mock horror as green kiwi juice and pulp spurted everywhere. Then she rubbed it into her skin, giving her nipples an extra little pinch in the process. I took my time lapping up the fruit cocktail, running my tongue all over her smooth tan skin until she was shiny and clean. She spent most of the time giggling and squirming, especially when I ran my tongue along the taut bumps of her ribcage, but when I was done I could see in her eyes that her motor was warmed up and idling fast. The same was true of me. "Your turn," she said. She selected another coconut and carefully poured a thin stream of milk onto the swollen head of my cock. It trickled down my shaft and around my balls, following the path of least resistance all the way down into the crack in my ass. Yes, it tickled. Cindy knelt in front of me and sucked eagerly on my coconut-flavored lollipop, quickly cleaning off the milk. I picked up the nut and poured on a fresh coating, and she sucked and licked and slurped happily as I splashed the sweet, sticky juice onto my cock and balls, getting plenty of it on her face. Finally, she released my happy organ and looked up at me with a wet, sticky smile. "OK, I think I've finally satisfied my craving for coconut." My cock strained up toward her mouth as if of its own accord. My balls twitched impatiently. "That's nice for you, but..." I looked down meaningfully. She got a mischievous look in her eyes. "What you need is some pussy...fruit." She picked up the one she had sliced open earlier and slid it over my cock. The inside felt cool and slick, with mushy little ridges. Not much like the real thing, but pleasant just the same. "Interesting vacation this is turning out to be," said Cindy. She started moving the fruit up and down on my cock, making a pulpy squelching noise. "I thought I'd be shopping, getting my nails done, and hanging out by the pool, and here I am on a deserted island helping my husband sodomize a helpless piece of fruit." "Well, you make your own fun. A little faster, please?" Cindy picked up the pace, and I leaned my head back and groaned, trying to push myself over the edge. But the fruit was disintegrating on the inside, disgorging a juicy, sloppy mess all over my balls and thighs, and despite my best efforts, I couldn't quite manage to get off. "I'm afraid you've worn this one out," said Cindy, tossing the loose, waxy skin aside. "You were just too much of a man for that poor -" "Enough! I need it bad, woman - can't you see that? Do something!" "Don't you want to see me fuck a huge banana first?" she asked sweetly. I swallowed hard. "When you put it that way..." I grabbed the bunch of plantains and broke off a relatively straight one. I hate to belabor the point, but it was much bigger than what Cindy was used to. As far as I know, anyway. She eyed it a little uncertainly. "I think I need to warm up on something a little more manageable." "Like a banana?" She put her hand on my chest and pushed me back. "Don't be silly." She lifted a leg over my bent knees to straddle me, and then slid down the slope of my upper thighs until we made contact. A sinuous little wriggle, and she smoothly impaled herself on my sticky coconut palm. Her pussy was a decadently tight embrace of warm velvet, and I let out a moan and strained up against her. We moved together in our familiar coupling rhythm for a delicious few seconds and then she cruelly stood up, leaving me high and dry. "That ought to do it, thanks hon." "All right, bitch," I growled. "I'm gonna give you a fruit-fucking you'll never forget." With the menacing ьberbanana gripped in my fist, I guided her onto her back and spread her thighs. "Be gentle," she squeaked. I was, in fact, quite gentle as I pressed the head of the waxy, yellow-green plantain against her moist pink slot. She twisted and shifted a little, making fine adjustments, then said "take me." I pressed a little harder, and the phallic fruit slid smoothly into her muscular confines. "God," she said. And then, a little louder, "Oh God!" "Meaning?" "Meaning keep going." The huge organic dildo slid in a few more inches, spreading apart her moist pink folds in a fascinatingly obscene way. I slid it back out, and then slowly worked it back in even farther, as she continued to loosen up and adjust. "Oh Gaawwd!" she moaned. "So is this like a religious experience, then?" "Shut up and fuck me." I obediently shoved the plantain in and out of her pussy, and a pleasantly hydraulic sucking sound began to accompany her guttural grunts of pleasure. A few times her eyes shut tight and her body stiffened, but I couldn't tell if she was really coming or not. After a few minutes of groaning, heavy breathing, and terse instructions ("faster," "slower," and "stop twisting, dammit!" are the ones I remember) she finally pushed my hand away and let the plantain squirt out onto the sand. "Had enough?" I asked. She shook her head. "It's driving me crazy, DG. It feels good, but I can't get all the way off. I need to come. I mean, I really need to come." I could have said "Join the club," but I went with "What's your pleasure?" instead, figuring she would want to be mounted and I could finally release the pent-up tension in my balls. "Eat me." She spread her legs in lewd invitation. "Please." I selected a ripe banana and began to peel it, trying to appear casual. "Let me just grab a bite first." "Dee-Gee!" "OK, OK, just a second. I've got an idea." I took the peeled banana and pressed it against her crotch. "You're not going to satisfy me with that," she protested. "Hey, that tickles!" I finished pushing soft banana up inside her pussy. "How does that feel?" "Sticky and mushy and not very satisfying." "Maybe if I ate the banana now?" Her face lit up with anticipation. "Now you're talking. Chow down on my banana split, big guy." "I thought banana split is what happened to you before," I said with a grin. She wasn't much in the mood for wordplay, though, so I sprawled forward and went to work. I licked up all the little chunks of banana that I could reach with my tongue, and then I took mercy on her and moved up to her sensitive, swollen clit. "Oh yes..." she whimpered, as I swirled around it. "Right there, sweetie." She came with a shuddering groan, and I was rewarded with a mouthful of warm banana mush as her pussy clenched and spasmed. For some reason, I was reminded of the experiments where the pigeons learn to peck on a lever to get a food pellet. I slurped up the banana and then went back to her clit. Sure enough, the same thing happened again, this time accompanied by a full-throated cry of pleasure.After a record-tying fifth orgasm, the banana was completely gone and so was Cindy. She lay in a limp puddle on the soft sand with her eyes half-closed, staring at me with a look of utter bovine satisfaction on her face. "That was great, hon. Gonna take...little nappie." "What! What about me?" She grunted, and one shoulder twitched in what I could only assume was a shrug. "Just...do whatever you want. So....sleepy." Wonderful. I rolled her onto her side and spooned myself in behind her. My aching erection quickly buried itself in her wet, sticky pussy, and I wriggled into a position where I could drive myself into her tight cunt with short little thrusts. After thirty seconds or so, Cindy started to come out of her coma and push back against me, grinding her cute little ass into my groin. Almost immediately, I felt the delicious burning rush move up my shaft and then the beach seemed to spin around us in slow circles as I pumped about three gallons of semen up inside her. After a short breather, Cindy arched her long neck around and gave me a kiss. "We better go for a swim before the juice dries and we get permanently stuck like this," she said. "People would talk, even here." So we helped each other to our feet and walked hand in hand into the clear, refreshing water of our own private corner of paradise.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/9875.txt

Andrew Roller

Summer of Sin

"I want to fish too," I said. "You can't, dear. You don't have a penis," Pauline answered. Her voice was languid. She sounded bored. I gazed with inquisitive eyes at the men. John, Brad, and Steve all sat on a couch in the living room. There was a fish tank on the floor. Multicolored tropical fish swam in the tank. Each man sat with his penis hanging erectly over the side of the tank. A fishing line was tied around each man's dick. At the end of each line, down in the submerged depths of the fish tank, was a barbed hook. On the hook a fresh nightcrawler wiggled. "They aren't biting," Steve said. "Don't wiggle your dick around so much," Paul said. "I want to fish!" I said again. I crouched on the floor, beside the tank. My hands clutched its glass walls, along the top. "She could, you know," my aunt said. She was sitting on a pillow. Her well-lotioned bottom was hidden from our view, but it was still red, from my whipping. My own fanny bore the marks of John's discipline. It didn't hurt as much now, but there were several weals that would take a while to heal. I let go of the fishtank and rubbed my bare ass. It stung. I winced. John looked up from the end of his penis and laughed at me. "You're wicked," I told him. "You won't call me names anymore," he said. "You're right," I said glumly. I pouted. "You look pretty when you pout," John said. "Let me fish. Can I play with your fishing pole?" I asked John. "Tie string to her nipples. Then she can fish," my aunt told Pauline. "Of course!" Pauline said. "You're quite inventive, Rebecca." She leapt up from the couch. "But I want to play with *his* fishing pole!" I said, pointing to John's dick. "No, you're not playing with my husband's penis," Pauline said. "He's going to need all of his sperm for tonight, when he gets married to Chrissy." She picked up the ball of fishing line. "Do you want bait, or a real worm?" Pauline asked me. "Yuck!" I said. "I don't want a real worm. They're yucky!" "Which hook do you want, then?" Pauline asked. There was a collection of them laid out on a soft towel, on the carpet. Next to the ersatz baits was a can with worms in it. Pauline's fingers passed over the can of worms and fingered the nearest bait. "Give me a pretty one," I said. "Two pretty ones, since I have two nipples." "She gets to fish with two lines?" Brad asked, looking up from his penis. "She's a girl. She won't catch anything," John said dismissively. "I told you not to wiggle your dick around. The fish will never bite your line if you do that." "I can't help it. I'm horny as hell," Brad said. "After my wife and Chrissy both blow-jobbed you this morning?" John asked. "Yes," Brad said. There was a look of desperation in his eyes. He looked at me, pleadingly. "Nope," I said. Pauline knelt down next to me. She made me turn towards her so she could tie fishing line around my nipples. "What do you mean, 'nope'?" Brad asked me. "I know what you're thinking," I said to him. "What?" Brad asked. "You want to fuck me," I said. "And I bet I know where you want to put it, too." "Where?" Brad said. "Don't wiggle your line," John told Brad again. "Up my bottom," I said. "So, let's do it," Brad said. He began to rise. "Nope," I told him. "Sit down," John said. He was sitting next to Brad. He clutched at Brad's penis and forced him to sit back down, bare assed, on the sofa. "I've got to cum," Brad said. "Not in me!" I shouted. "I'm fishing." "For God's sake. Go whack off in the bushes if you need it that bad," Steve swore. "You keep wiggling your dick around and it's scaring the fish!" "Nobody is going to cum again until I do," John said. He looked at Steve. "And tonight we're getting married." "Not to each other," Steve said. "I could marry every one of you fucks and fuck you in every hole you've got," John said. "John! Don't be rude," Pauline told her husband. She tied fishing line to my right nipple. It made a pretty bow. Then she tied a hook onto the end of my line. "Be careful with this," she told me. "I don't want it cutting your pretty skin." "My bottom's already cut," I said ruefully. Pauline dropped the plastic bait, with the hook built into it, in the fish tank. The water rippled. "You only have a few welts, that's all," Pauline told me. "My husband didn't cut your skin when he whipped you. It wasn't that kind of whipping." "She almost cut mine!" Rebecca said. "I didn't know what I was doing," I said. "I never whipped anyone's bottom before." "It hurts when I sit down," Rebecca told me. "Sorry," I said. "You'll both be better in a few days, if not well before then," Pauline said. "There. I've tied on the other line, Chloe." She plopped it in the water. I pressed my belly to the fish tank. Flatness of glass upon flatness of flesh. I looked over the edge of the tank and saw my belly button through the glass. "This is fun," I said, jiggling my bosoms. My bait wiggled in the water. "Don't wobble your boobs around," John told me. "You'll scare the fish."She dripped on the floor. "Do you, Chrissy, take John here to be your unlawfully wedded husband?" Rebecca asked with a giggle. Chrissy gulped. "I do," Chrissy managed to say. I understood her fear. At the last minute, it had been agreed that the marriage would have one very important added feature. Though it was a lewd marriage, giving Chrissy to John, and Pauline to Steve, it would also be a ceremony that bound each lover more completely to their true love. For, in a corner, next to a pile of soft, comfy pillows, stood a brazier. There were two irons heating on the coals of the brazier. One bore a J. The other bore an S. Though she would marry John this night, and be impregnated by him, and carry his child, Chrissy would, to always remember her true love, be branded on her bottom. With an S. The initial of her real husband's first name. It would be the same for Pauline. She would take marriage vows to Steve, and receive his sperm. But, so she remembered who her real husband was, she would, before the fucking, be permanently marked with a J. I could feel Pauline trembling as she stood beside me. Her hand was in mine. It was sweating. "Do you, John, take Chrissy as your unlawfully wedded wife?" Rebecca asked our black host. "I do," John said. He felt the squirtgun (there was one for each of us, lying on the alter) jet out wine upon the length of his penis. "That makes me have to go to the bathroom," John said. "No peeing at the altar," Rebecca told him. Then she read out the marriage vows for Pauline. She drenched her pussy with wine. Pauline agreed to be unlawfully married to Steve. Then Rebecca, turning to him, shot wine all over his penis. "And now you, Brad, as best man," Rebecca said. She drenched his cock with wine. When the squirtgun designated for him was empty, she did me. Finally, turning a gun on herself, Rebecca soaked her own pussy. "Now you may kiss," Rebecca told the two couples. Brad and I watched from opposite sides as the four people embraced. They kissed long and passionately. Brad looked at me with pleading eyes. His dick was dripping, and I knew there was more than just wine plopping off the end of it. I lifted my nose. I wouldn't let him have me. Not yet. We might get in trouble with John, if we messed up his wedding by balling at the altar. "I want to get married," I said suddenly to Rebecca. Watching John and Chrissy and Steve and Pauline kiss was making me hungry for it. "You're too young," she answered. "I want to fuck," Brad said frankly. "Go in the bushes if you need it that badly," I giggled. John told us to shut up. He said we were messing up his kissing. Chrissy swooned as he kissed her. I think he managed to stick his tongue all the way down her throat. "Now for the brazier," John said. "Oh, I don't--!" Pauline said. There was misgiving in her eyes. "We must," John said. "Will it hurt?" Chrissy asked. Her eyes looked across the room at the flickering coals. "No worse than when you birth my child," John said. We walked across the room. The steps of Pauline and Chrissy were hesitant, unsure. Reaching the mound of pillows, Pauline gazed down at them. Her hand rose to her mouth and figeted there. She put a finger between her lips and uncertainly sucked upon it. "Down," her husband, John, said to her in a deep voice. "Get down." Pauline whirled about and clutched at her husband's big frame. "Please, dear! Don't make me--" she gasped. "Get down and spread your ass," John said to Pauline. She looked up into his eyes. She gave him a small, pecking kiss on the cheek. Another. He pushed her away. Not hard, but firmly. She tottered on her heels. He caught her arm so she wouldn't fall. "Help me get her undressed," John said to Steve. His voice growled. As we watched, horrified, the two men grabbed Pauline. She shrieked. They ripped off her bridal gown. They stripped her down to her lovely white mesh stockings, tearing off even her garter belt, leaving her in just her elastic stockings. And the pretty white ribbons she'd put in her hair. Ribboned, stockinged, with her earrings dangling off her ears but otherwise nude, Pauline gazed again at the brazier. She rubbed her bare hands up and down her naked arms. Her pubic bush was still moist from all the wine that had been squirted into it. She touched her bare belly. Her hands skimmed her bare thighs. She interlaced her fingers across her wet bush and looked down at them. "Don't I at least get a ring?" Pauline said. "It is an unlawful marriage," John said. "You don't get a ring. You get a brand on your bottom." "Oh!" Pauline gasped. She looked again at the brazier and seemed to reach some sort of mental accomodation with it. She walked around the mound of pillows. She put her back to the brazier. She looked back over her shoulder at its glowing coals. Then, she knelt. She stretched out over the mound of pillows. She opened her legs. She looked up at her husband. Then, looking away from his cock, which hung over her head, she reached back behind herself and spread the cheeks of her bottom. "Very good," John said to Pauline. "Steve, since you'll be impregnating her, you'll do her the honor of branding her as well." "Right," Steve said. He walked over to the brazier. "Be careful. I have to live with your handiwork for the rest of my life," John told Steve. "Oh!" Pauline said. She was moved by her husband's remark that he would, in fact, love her forever and never leave her. Wet tears appeared in her eyes. "Gag her," John said to Chrissy. "Me?" Chrissy asked in a meek voice. "You," John said. "But I'm next!" Chrissy blurted. "Kneel down and gag her," John repeated. With trembling hands, Chrissy knelt down. There was a black gag lying, as if by afterthought, along the back of the piled-up pillows. Chrissy took the gag. She urged Pauline to open her mouth. Pauline resisted. "You must," Chrissy said to Pauline. "To protect your teeth." Pauline at last relented and the gag filled her mouth. It was made of thick black leather to protect her from biting down on her tongue or of harshly grinding her teeth. Chrissy leaned over her contrite head and knotted the gag firmly against her neck, careful to pull her hair free so that it woulnd't be bound in with the knot of the gag. "There," Chrissy said. She patted Pauline's head. "Now her hands," John said. Chrissy reached back. She clutched at Pauline's wrists. Pauline was pressing her hands to the back of her bottom, opening herself for the brand, showing us her anus. "Oh! I can feel it!" Chrissy said. "The heat from the brazier is warming her bottom." Steve laughed. The brazier sat just beyond Pauline's upturned feet. He knelt beside it, stirring the coals. He used an iron rod. He had an oven mitt on his hand, which had hung on a peg on the wall next to the brazier, but which he now was wearing. He sat sideways so that the meatiness of his left thigh protected his naked cock from the brazier's heat. "Her toes are even warmer," Steve said. "But I can feel it on her bottom too!" Chrissy said. She picked up both Pauline's hands. She drew them out in front of Pauline. Two heavy iron weights had been placed on the carpet before the ceremony began. Chrissy now tied each of Pauline's wrists to one of the weights. The weights were widely spaced on the floor and they made Pauline's hands be stretched wide apart. Behind her, Steve used two weights near her ankles to tie her legs into a spread-eagled position. The mound of pillows under Pauline's belly lifted her bottom high. Gagged, tied, Pauline looked with pleading eyes up at her husband. "She is ready," John said to Steve. "Apply the brand." Steve picked up one of the brands that lay warming above the coals. "Oh! I cannot look!" I gasped. My aunt grasped my shoulders. "Try," my aunt breathed. "You have a lovely bottom and someday--" her voice broke into a sob. She couldn't speak. "Someday what--?" I squeaked. I felt my aunt press her chin down upon my frail shoulder. She held me in front of her, as if clutching a shield. She tried to speak but she couldn't. She was too nervous. "Oh, God!" Chrissy, knowing she was next, cried aloud. She put her fist in her mouth. She bit it. She drew blood, but none of us noticed, not even her, until later. With a quavering hand Steve lifted one of the brands off the hot griddle. He knelt with his penis erect between Pauline's legs. He nervously stroked one of her bare thighs with his fingers. Pauline squeezed her eyes shut. She seemed to lift her bottom, to evade the brand, or to offer herself to it? I could not tell. She could only move a little, because she was stretched out completely and tied. Only John remained firm, his figure erect and tall, his hands quietly by his sides, gazing with resolute eyes. He showed no sign of nervousness. "Steady," John told Steve. "That's my wife you're about to poke in the ass." "I know," Steve said. "Ruin her with your nervousness and I'll do the same to your own wife's bottom," John said. "Right," Steve agreed. "Oh!" Chrissy shouted. She grabbed at one of Pauline's wrists, as if to untie it. John scooped her up off the floor. He held Chrissy in his arms. "No," John intoned. "I don't wish to be branded!" Chrissy babbled. But her voice was childlike, lost in fear. John held her wriggling body. She stared down at Pauline.John told Steve. Pauline's hips rocked. Steve placed a hand on one of the cheeks of her bottom. "Be still," Steve said. He pried apart her asscheeks with his fingers. "Right next to the anus," John said. "Both sides?" Steve asked. "Just one," John replied. "Perhaps I will brand the other side someday, but for now, just do the left inner cheek. I don't want to use up all the space in one sitting." "It's more fun to do them one at a time," Steve agreed. He directed the brand into the space he'd made, wrenching open her bottom with his big fingers. "Oh! Let me help! There isn't enough room!" my aunt cried. She tossed me aside like a rag doll. She leapt down on Pauline's back. To our surprise, she clapped her hands to Pauline's bottom. For a moment I thought she was trying to protect her, but then she widened Pauline's ass with stiff-gripping fingers, splitting her cheeks. "Have you done this before?" Steve asked Rebecca. "I-- I saw it done once," Rebecca said. "Put the brand to her while it is still hot. Do it now." Frantically Pauline, feeling the weight of Rebecca on her back, twisted her body. She could barely move, but she tried her best to escape the long, hot iron that hovered over her bare fanny. It was no use. My aunt held her firmly between clamping thighs and her arms and legs were tied tightly to the weights spread out on the floor. SSSSSSSSS !!! The sound of hot steel touching warm, naked bottomfat was heard in the room. Pauline's eyes gaped. A sound of screaming, gagged desperation erupted from her thin throat. "Hold it! Hold it!" Rebecca shouted. Her hair had come free from her wedding-day coiffure and tumbled prettily down into her eyes. She struggled to keep Pauline's squirming bottom apart. Steve, looking rather like he was fucking Pauline up the ass with the long, hard iron poker, held the wicked thing against Pauline's skin. Pauline's small anal hole tensed. It drew inward. It went from its small dimpled size to an even smaller size. Directly next to it the hot iron brand imprinted itself on her intimate flesh. "Ten!" Rebecca said. She had been counting, silently. "Take it off! Now!" With relief Steve lifted the brand. A harsh raw mark was left behind in Pauline's skin, in the furrow of her bottom. It read, "S". We all gazed wondrously at it. Pauline trembled between Rebecca's tight-gripped thighs. She fainted. "You idiot! You branded her with your brand!" John screamed at Steve. "Yikes! I didn't realize!" Steve said. "Oh my God!" Chrissy cried. John, still holding her, gripped her firmly. "Then your wife shall bear forever my initial," John said to Steve. "Oh, no!" Steve yelled. Both women sat in wooden tubs. The tubs had been filled with cool water. The women sat in the nude, their bare behinds submerged in the tubs. Their feet rested on the carpet. They held hands. There was rice in their hair, thrown by the slave boys. "There are our brides, their bottoms branded," John said to Steve. "Now all that remains is to fuck them," Steve said. "Yes, after their bottoms have a chance to cool off," John said. "They are a pretty sight," Steve said. "They will make fine mothers," John agreed. In the morning, when both Pauline and Chrissy's bottoms had healed sufficiently, we went upstairs. Separate bedrooms had been prepared. One for John and Chrissy. The other for Steve and Pauline. Each bedroom had a 'Do Not Disturb' sign waiting on the outside handle of the door. Despite our games, our earlier enjoyments, this would be a private, intimate affair. It would be shared only by the parties involved. No interference would be allowed. Both doors could be locked from the inside, to assure complete privacy. "Good night," Pauline said. She kissed her husband. He kissed her. At the same time, Steve and Chrissy kissed farewell. It was morning, the sunlight bright against the drawn curtains of each bedroom, but both couples bid each other goodnight anyway. Perhaps they would not see each other again until the following morning. When they did meet again, both females would be pregnant, with the seed of a man not their husband. "I love you," Chrissy said to Steve. She looked longingly at him. John drew her away. "Come. We must go inside," John said to Chrissy. She turned. She looked into the waiting bedroom. The covers of the bed were already drawn back. The sheets were fresh and crisp. On the nightstand, next to the bed, were lotions and creams and oils. There were no condoms, however. No birth control pills. "Oh! I'll be pregnant when I see you again, dear!" Chrissy blurted across the hallway to her husband. Steve stood by the door to the bedroom he would share with John's wife, Pauline. "I know," Steve said. "Say goodbye to your wife," Steve said to John. "I want a boy," John said to Steve. "You'll get whatever I give her," Steve answered. "Perhaps it will be a redheaded white boy, who only likes math, and hates girls." "For God's sake, don't give me a fag!" John said. "You never know," Steve answered. "I have a cousin who's a member of NAMBLA." "I have three relatives who are in the State Penitentiary," John said. "Enough of this!" Pauline cried. "We will both have fine children. Won't we?" "Yes!" Chrissy agreed. "Your son will be a future president," Steve told John solemnly. "He will get blow-jobs from every intern in the White House." "Come, dear. We have work to do," Pauline said. She took Steve's hand. She drew him into the bedroom. "Goodbye," John said from the doorway to his own bedroom. There was a note of regret in his voice. He gazed across the hall at his wife's bare, flat belly. Chrissy kissed his cheek. "I want a son who's a rapper," Chrissy said quietly to John. She reached between his legs and took hold of his bare cock. We were all naked, standing there in the hall. The night had passed slowly as the men waited for the two women to recover from their branding. Chrissy fondled John's balls. They looked enormous to me, standing there in the middle of the hall, watching. She emitted a small loving moan, and squeezed them. I put a hand to my own snatch and fingered myself. Steve and Pauline closed the door to their bedroom. I heard them slide shut the lock on the other side of the door. John and Chrissy, her hand still touching his testicles, did the same. "What shall we do?" I asked Brad. My aunt stood holding his hand. "We are one out," Rebecca confessed. "Shall we have a menage a trois?" "I want to get both of you pregnant," Brad said to me. "You can't, dear. She's only 13. She goes to a private school, in America. It's quite expensive. I'm sure her parents don't want to have to pay for two places," Rebecca said. She grinned at me. "My mom and dad would be totally shocked if I went home pregnant," I giggled to Brad. "Then let's just enjoy ourselves, eh?" Brad said. He stroked his bare cock. "We can, you know, practise." "Practising sounds nice," Rebecca agreed. We left the island. John steered his boat. Pauline wore a sailor's hat and clam-digger pants. She was bare-breasted. There was a small shirt lying on the bench seat at the back of the boat. She would put it on as we drew in toward shore, she assured us. I smiled. My bosoms were also bare. I wore bikini panties, given to me by Pauline. Her hips were wider than mine and she had cut them with scissors to make them smaller. She did the same for a bra which I fingered. It hung over one of my shoulders. I would put it on when I saw another boat, or when we got close enough to the shoreline for people to see me. I liked being topless. I could feel the morning sun on my breasts and it felt warm. Perhaps it would give my nipples a tan. The boat hit a wave and spray from it crossed over the side of the boat and splattered upon Pauline's belly. She laughed. She looked down at herself. Her belly was flat but we all knew her condition would visibly change soon. Inside, in her womb, she now carried Steve's seed. It was the same for Chrissy. I looked at her bare belly, dry and warm in the sun. She already had her shirt on, as did my aunt. Both of them had knotted their shirts so that their bellies showed. My aunt's would not bloat in the coming weeks, but Chrissy's would, as would Pauline's. I patted my own belly. I looked over at Brad. He grinned at me. "I wish I'd gotten pregnant," I confessed. "I'm sure it can be arranged," he said. He wore his jeans. There was a bulge in the front of his trousers. "Are you up again already?" I gasped. I looked frankly at his crotch. "I'm always up, for you," Brad said. "I love you," I gasped. I leaned over and kissed him. He wrapped his arms around me. I looked up into his eyes. "I wish I had a brand too. On my bottom." I said. My voice was soft, babyish. "Sure you do," Brad said. He reached into the back of my swim panties and felt between the cheeks of my ass, in my crack. "Right there." "Oooh! Don't put your finger in my hole!" I gasped. "What are you two up to?" Rebecca laughed. "You'd better keep an eye on her," Pauline warned. "She could wind up like me."Press your "return" key. Scroll to the very bottom of the page that appears. Change "Standard" to "Complete" roller39@idt.net is already typed into the window. Click in the window behind the "t" in ".net" Press your "return" key. -Or look under: roller666@earthlink.net -Other providers: Usenet Newsgroup: alt.sex.stories.moderated or by e-mail: file.request@backdrop.com or via the Web: http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/ -Free minicomics: send a stamped, self-addressed envelope to: Jim Corrigan, P.O. Box 3663, Phenix City, AL 36868 - JOIN the world's greatest organization! Send $35.00 to The North American Man/Boy Love Association for a one-year membership. NAMBLA, P.O. Box 174, Midtown Station, New York, NY 10018. -Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is copyright 1998 and a trademark of Andrew Roller. Work by others copyright 1998 by the respective copyright holder. -END OF story EMISSION

NND

Chapter Eleven

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/8519.txt

Dream Spinner

Tulsa Encore

"Can't keep myself from thinking about you It's because I love you, and I know that it's true, whoooa I'll call it desperation, can't you see it in my eyes? That I want to be with you until the sun falls from the sky." As Taylor Hanson finished the repeat chorus of "A Minute Without You," he had the image of a very special person in his mind, a person he was aching to see after the performance. He glanced about the theatre even though he knew with the glaring lights he couldn't even see the audience, never mind spot him out of the thousands of fans. He prayed that he had made it to Tulsa. The brothers started in on their next number. Performing in their hometown was a major rush, and what a difference now that they were famous. The last time they had performed in Tulsa, it had been in one of the smaller halls and it had been only partially filled. Now they had packed the Mabee Center, the biggest stage in Tulsa with a capacity of more than eleven thousand seats. At the end of the concert, none of them felt like going home and relaxing with the family, even though it had been six weeks since they had left home for their European-North American tour. Their mother and father understood that. Even though they still insisted their boys follow the evangelical Christian values they had instilled in them years ago, they knew that they were now major stars and had to live their own lives too. Their boys were growing up. Besides, after a performance like they had tonight, it would take hours to come down. Anyway, commencing with the Tulsa performance, the entire family was going to be tour bussing it for the next leg of the American tour. That meant not just mom and dad and the three boys, but their three younger sisters and kid brother besides. With five more cities added to the tour, this was going to be the last chance for the boys to be alone for a long time. Actually, young Zac was going home, and he was looking forward to spending a night in their bedroom after six weeks of sharing a hotel room with his two brothers. An entire night without them telling him to quieten down and get some sleep would be like having a holiday. Isaac, on the other hand, was on his way to a house party, with him being the featured guest of course. He was hoping there would also be a certain girl there that he had a crush on. Even if there wasn't, the seventeen-year-old knew that there would be plenty of girls for him to choose from. Tay was heading out to meet someone special also, someone special he had met five months ago. As soon as their tour schedule had been finalized, he had made all the arrangements for this night, including booking an air flight, sending the front seat concert ticket and booking the hotel room. There had been countless nights since then that he had lain in bed and quietly stroked himself thinking of the first night they had spent together, and what this night in Tulsa would be like. His mom and dad thought he was spending the night with a friend, and he had not lied about that. He could never lie to his parents. It was just that this was not the friend they thought he was spending the night with. They certainly would be shocked to know what he was hoping he and his special friend might be doing. The fifteen-year-old had come to terms with that himself, and it had not been easy with his upbringing and the closeness of his family, but over the past year he had seen a lot of the world, and he was not your typical fifteen-year-old boy. Being recognized no matter where you went in the world, dealing with reporters, and working with agents on albums, you matured fast. He knew that somehow there would be a way to reconcile his feelings with his beliefs. For the moment, he was satisfied to deal with his feelings and the present. In that regard, he was a typical teenager. His parents would also be shocked at the appearance of their second youngest son. At the moment he was in a stall in the Tulsa Transit washroom removing his clothes and putting on his disguise. Now that he was famous, he couldn't go anywhere without being recognized, let alone in his hometown, and tonight he did not want anyone to know where he was going. That would be all he would need, some photog snapping his picture in a part of town where he was not supposed to be tonight. Having stripped down, he quickly slipped on the clothes he had smuggled out of the house. Making sure there was nobody in the can, he hurried to the door, and seeing nobody in the hallway, he quickly slipped out of the men's can and into the women's. He took a quick look around. He'd never been in the women's before, and he took the opportunity to check it out. Other than the absence of urinals, he found there was not much noticeable difference. He quickly looked into the mirror and adjusted his dress so the straps of his padded bra were not showing. He quickly applied a bit of blush to his cheeks, and some cherry red lipstick to his lips. He'd observed his mother often enough to do a fair job, although he could not understand how a woman could stand the paste on her lips. He looked at the image in the bright red dress in the mirror and fluttered his long, blond eyelashes. Red was his favorite colour, and the bright scarlet suited him. Actually, with his long blond hair and his fine features, he made a good-looking young girl. He'd gotten the idea from some fake celebrity pics of him in drag that an irate fan who thought he should know what was going on had sent him. Nobody was going to recognize him in this outfit. The words from "Weird" came to mind: "When you live in a cookie cutter world being different is a sin. So you don't stand out. And you don't fit in. Weird." That was exactly how he felt, and he wasn't just thinking of his disguise. Tay walked out of the station unnoticed and caught the city transit heading to North Garnett Road. As he stared out the bus window, he felt the tension begin to rise. What if he was wrong about his special friend? What if he was wrong about himself? Suppose things did not go as he had dreamed this past month? The growing anticipation and the worries were not unlike the feeling he had just before a performance. As he watched the streets go by, he hummed the lines of "Thinking of You" without even realizing he was doing so. "Fly with wings of an eagle Glide along with the wind No matter how high I'll be thinking of you the whole time. I'm carrying this heavy load I don't know what to do The only thing I know is that I'm in love with you. Oh Fly the wings of an eagle No matter how high I'll be thinkin' of you." Arriving at the Holiday Inn, he wiped his sweaty palms nervously on his dress. It had gotten over ninety today, but it wasn't just the heat and humidity that were causing his sweat. Not once in his daydreams had he figured he would be so frightened. He wondered if this was a mistake as he entered the hotel and headed for room 217. Had it been a mistake to reserve the same room where they had their first sex together? Tay would never forget that February night for as long as he lived. By the time he reached the room, his heart was pounding so hard you'd think he'd just finished an hour performing on stage. What he was about to do was far more frightening than any show he had ever performed. Wiping his sweating palms once more on his dress, he inhaled deeply and knocked on the door. The door opened to reveal a nervous, grinning teenager that was sweating just as badly. Taran Noah Smith's smile quickly disappeared. He couldn't hide his surprise at the sight of the blond girl standing at his door. She was beautiful, but that was not who he was expecting. A tremor of disappointment rippled through his heart. "Hi." "Ah, sorry, you must have... ah, Tay?" "No other. You going to invite a girl in, or you going to make her stand out here in the hallway all evening?" "Well, ah, c'mon in." "Thanks." "What is this?" "A disguise. What do you think?" "I think you're gorgeous." "Don't get funny." "I'm not." "Well," said Taylor, fluttering his long eyelashes, "I think you're a hunk too." Taran laughed as Taylor walked over to the bed and kicked off his shoes. "Shit, I don't know why women would wear such awkward shoes. My feet are killing me and I've had these high heels on for less than an hour." Taylor leaned back on the bed and looked over at Taran."That was a fantastic show." "So you did manage to catch it." "Nothing would have kept me away. You were superb!" "Thanks." "That was something with all those fans yelling and screaming and everything. You must feel a real buzz right now." "Yeah, it was a real rush performing at home. It's been a long time since we performed in Tulsa." "Really?" "Yeah. Last time we performed here was before we became known." "Well, you're known now." "Yeah. If we weren't, I wouldn't need this freakin' disguise." The two boys stood there in the awkward silence that followed. Neither really wanted to talk about the performance nor the fans or anything else. Both had only one thing on their minds, and that was the last time they were here, in this very room, in this very bed. That was, after all, why Tay had invited Taran here, and that was the only reason Taran had accepted the ticket to his performance and the booking at the hotel room. The reason for this meeting had seemed so obvious a month ago. Now they wondered just what the other was thinking. 'Perhaps he was just being kind and wanted me to see the concert,' thought Taran as he wondered how to raise the topic of sex. 'Perhaps he just thought I wanted him to see the performance,' thought Tay as he wondered how he was going to let Taran know what he wanted to do. "So-," began Tay at the same time as Taran. "You first," said Taran at the same time as Tay. The boys laughed. "Actually, what really gave me a buzz tonight was thinking of seeing you," Tay said tentatively. It was a safe comment that could mean several things. "Really? I've been really wanting to see you again too." That was another safe comment. "Cool." "You want a Mug root beer?" Taran asked, knowing it was Tay's favorite and having some on ice. "Yeah sure, I'm still dry after all that singing." "You must be exhausted." "No, not really." "Really?" "Yeah. Performing is a rush. It takes a long time to come down afterwards." "Hmm." Taran thought of another meaning for "coming down" and his dick twitched. "You ever feel that way acting?" "Yeah, when a shoot has gone particularly well." "I like it when a shoot goes particularly well," Tay said suggestively. "Have you had many shoots since we saw each other last?" Taran asked, picking up on the double meaning immediately. "Oh yeah, but none as good as that night." "Really?" "Yeah. What about you?" "Same here." "Lots of shoots, or none as good as the last one here?" "Both," Taran said with a smile. "Well, we'll have to see if we can be as good again." "Yeah," Taran said, stepping forward. "Let me get out of this outfit first." "Ununh, let me get you out of it," Taran suggested with a grin as he sat beside Taylor. "I am going to need help," Tay said. "I'll never understand why they design dresses so they button up the back." "That's so you need a guy to help you get undressed," Taran suggested with a leer. He unbuttoned the dress and eased it down over Tay's smooth shoulders and upper torso. Tay stood and stepped out of it. He had put on pink lace panties and matching bra and nylons with a black garter belt. In part it was to make sure the disguise was complete. In part it was because he thought it would be sexy having Taran see him that way. Mostly, he'd been thinking about dressing up that way ever since he'd seen those fake pictures, and the idea had turned him on. That, and thinking of Taran, had been his two main jerk off fantasies lately. Unfortunately dressing up in the men's can had been risky and had not been the major turnon he had expected. Tay ran his hands under Taran's turtleneck, raising it and running his hands over the fourteen-year-old boy's slender, smooth body. He bent down and kissed his hairless chest, and ran his tongue over Taran's nipple. Slipping the sweater off over his head, Tay turned his attention to the Hollywood jeans, unbuttoning the fly and undoing the belt buckle. As he pulled them down, he smiled to see Taran had chosen black jockey briefs. He cupped his crotch and could feel the dampness and the heat of his genitals through the cloth. Taran reached up and after a bit of a struggle managed to unsnap Tay's bra. Removing it, he too ran his hands over the slight youth's slim, hairless chest. He squeezed his nipples gently and bent over and sucked on one. He felt it grow hard in his mouth. Taran was growing hard too. He quickly removed Tay's garter belt and nylons. His silk panties were jutting out in a manner that was very unfeminine. "You know," said Taylor as he saw Taran looking at his crotch, "I like the feel of them." "I like the way they make you look," Taran said sincerely. Tay reached over and ran his hands over Taran's crotch again. They eased each other's underwear down, and then lay on the bed and kissed. The kiss was a brief one, a tentative investigation. The second was more forceful, and the third the most powerful. They caressed each other for a while and their lips met again, this time touching softly, their tongues exploring tenderly. They pressed their bodies together, their boners squeezed between them. "You're a much better kisser than the last time we met." "Yeah, well, I'm older now. Fifteen and four months." "You've had a birthday since we, well, since we. . . ." "Had a hot fuck and suck session." "Yeah, that's one way to put it." "You got another way?" "No," Taran said, "That's exactly the way to put it. I've had a birthday too. Three months ago." "Thought you kissed better." The boys looked into each other's eyes. Still worried, the two used the banter to hide their true fears and feelings, but neither one was fooling the other. "Nervous?" "Oh yeah." "Me too." "What would you like to do?" Taran asked huskily. "I liked it best when you were fucking me," Tay admitted. "Hey, I liked that the best too." "I'd like to do it in a different position though." "Yeah?" "I want to do it on my back, so I can see your face when you cum." "Cool," said Taran agreeably. Tay lay down on his back and placed several pillows under his hips. "Hey, you been doing this with someone else?" asked Taran. "No, just saw a pic of two guys in this position when I was surfing the net looking for stuff," Tay said with a grin. Tay didn't mention he was looking for nude pictures of himself supposedly on the web, and for gay stories that he heard men were writing about him. "Thank heavens for the net," said Taran with a smile. Taran took out a tube of KY jelly he'd placed in the drawer of the stand beside the bed just in case. Opening it up, he squeezed a gob on his finger and then spreading apart Tay's cheeks, he began working it into his asshole. "Hey, where did you learn about that stuff?" "You're not the only one who surfs the net," Taran replied with a smile. Smearing more of the lubricant on his stiff cock, Taran finally got into position. As he leaned forward, Tay took his bone in his hand. "Hey, I think you've gotten bigger since we last saw each other." "Yep, by half an inch." "We're almost the same size now," Tay observed, his own being just over five-and-a-half inches. "Wish it was twice as long and twice as thick so I could give you a good time." "Hey, that would be painful. I like you just as you are dude." Taran smiled as he lowered himself. Tay guided his knob to his door. As Taran pressed forward, Tay strained to open up to him. For the next couple minutes the boys were silent as they tried to connect. Both were new and inexperienced at this sort of thing, and all the erotic stories and all the gay pictures couldn't prepare you for the real thing. Taran was about to think he was doing something wrong, or that this position would not work, when he felt his knob begin penetrate Tay. He inhaled deeply as he pushed down and felt Tay's sphincter slip about the head of his cock. Tay grunted with the exertion as he both tried to relax and to open up his anus. As he felt Taran's solid flesh finally begin to penetrate him, he inhaled deeply and held his breath. He felt the hot boycock slowly sink into his body until all five-and-a-half inches were snugly buried up his rectum. Taran paused and looked down at him with a wide grin, and he returned the smile. Taran bent forward slowly and Tay struggled to raise himself. Their lips met in a hot, desperate kiss. God, Tay thought, this is so fucking hot. He watched Taran's face as the teenager began to work his hips to and fro in a slow and as of yet novel rhythm. A melody played in both boys' minds: "mmmBop, ba duba dop, Ba du bop, ba duba dop, Ba du bop, ba duba dop, Ba du." Taran smiled down at Tay as he humped his ass. He was so fucking beautiful, and it was so cool fucking his ass and being able to look into those deep blue eyes and that delicate face with the little mole on his chin and scar on his left cheek. Taran inhaled Tay's Ckbe and sighed. He worked his cock in and out slowly, wanting this pleasure to last forever. When he finally felt himself reaching that inevitable peak, he froze and tried to think of the most asexual thing he could. He thought of some of the fan letters he'd gotten from girls saying how hot they were for him. Once his passion had subsided, he resumed his fucking. Tay had been doing the same, thinking of the screaming preteen girls at the concert that night to stop himself from cumming. If the girls only knew, he thought with a smile. He reached down and grasped his boner and began to pump it.Jerking off while a friend is fucking your ass was a very different experience than jerking off in the hotel can or the bathroom at home. He had to squeeze his throbbing boner below the knob several times to stop from cumming. It had to be perfect. They had to come together. The two boys reached their peaks and allowed themselves to cool down a second time, but as they started up for the third time, they knew it would be brief, and that when the time came, they were not going to be able to resist going to the end. Their breath grew deeper and louder as they approached that magical moment. The two hot teens began to speed up, Taran pumping his cock in and out of Tay's asshole with a rapid, steady rhythm, and Tay pumping his hot cock in time to Taran's humping. "MmmBop, ba duba dop, Ba du bop, ba du dop, Ba du dop, ba du dop, Ba du." If anyone had been watching, they would have been unable to tell which boy came first. Taran suddenly quivered and thrust his body forward, and Tay trembled at the same time. Both boys' breaths shuddered as they released their hot boy juices, Taran's squirting up Tay's hot, pulsating hole, and Tay's squirting out of his throbbing cock and striking his smooth, hairless chest. Hot white cum spurted forth like fountains from the two boys, and they sighed and groaned with the joy of release, and the joy of having pleased each other. Taran at last withdrew his still stiff organ, and as Tay lowered his legs, Taran eased farther up over his body. As he lay down, their hot, hard cocks lined up side by side and were pressed between their flat stomachs. The last hot jizz was squeezed out of their boners and oozed between their bellies. Taran leaned forward, his smooth, perspiring chest pressing against Tay's, and the two boys kissed. As their tongues entwined, Tay's hot semen spread between the two panting chests and pounding hearts. It was a wonderful beginning to what was going to be a long and wonderful night.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/13487.txt

deirdre

Exam

"Number three, on the right," said the nurse, holding a clipboard. I started down the corridor, left to my own devices, looking at the numbered doors. Something always makes me nervous about visiting doctors, even though this was just a routine check: the league wanted assurance that I wasn't going to have a heart attack during the games. I turned the knob and pushed the door open. It was occupied. "Oops, excuse me," I said, backing out. Then I stared, frozen - a nurse had turned around and looked at me. She smiled at me: her smile said *you and I are both enjoying this*. But it was the patient that brought me up short: it was a man lying on the examining table, totally naked! I quickly shut the door and discovered I must not have been paying attention because the number on the door was *two*. I stood there, my mind racing. The man had been blindfolded! He was lying face down, his hands and feet at the corners of the table, fastened to it with cloth, canvas restraints around his ankles and wrists. I went on and found room three. The nurse! She'd had rubber gloves on both hands and was holding something shiny and metal: I had no idea what it was, but it was a little rod, about 8 inches long and a couple inches in diameter and was rounded at one end. I cautiously peeked in room three, which was empty, and went in. The door closed behind me. I hadn't even sat down when the door opened to reveal the nurse with the clipboard. She looked at the clipboard, then up at me: "OK, get undressed and sit on the examining table. You can put your clothes on that chair." While she talked, the doctor appeared behind her and stopped to talk to her. "Number two is ready," she said to him. "Is Julie in there?" "Yes." He paused and looked at me. "This one?" "He'll be next." "Good. Come along, I'll need you in number two right now." At that, she followed him out and the door closed again. I stood there a minute, feeling like something puzzling was going on. Finally, I started to get undressed. When the Doctor had looked at me, I thought I saw his eyes briefly glance down at my pants! I heard the sound of the next examining room's door close. Then I heard voices, but I couldn't make out the words. But I definitely heard male and female talking. Then there was some laughing and giggling! I was down to my underpants. But instead of sitting on the table, I stood next to the wall, listening. I heard another little giggle. Then there was a smacking or slapping sound, four times. Then talking and another giggle. Then walking and the door opening. I went back to the table to make sure I wasn't caught eavesdropping. My door opened and the nurse with the clipboard appeared again. "OK, Mr. Sanford," she said as the door closed. She glanced down at me. "You need to take *them* off too." She was undoing the hose from a blood-pressure meter that was attached to the wall. I just sat there, watching. Finally, she had it ready and to put on my arm and had put a stethoscope on and looked back at me. "Go ahead, get them off," she said. I stood up and slipped them off, putting them on the rest of my clothes on the chair. She gave me a little smile, then motioned me to come over so she could take my blood pressure. There I stood, a foot from her, my arm caught between her forearm and her body as she wrapped my arm and pumped. Wearing nothing. It was definitely weird. She was all business though, and was soon done. "OK, lie down on the table," she said. I looked at her - I didn't quite know what to make of this. I knew they might well attach electrodes to listen to my heart and need me to lie down. But the memory of that next examining room kept me on edge. Certainly they'd listen to my chest and ask questions and things before anything like that. "Go ahead," she said. It was embarrassing. There I was, totally exposed. I did see her glance at it, but nothing more than a glance. "OK, turn over so you are on your stomach," she said. She had a blindfold in her hand! "Come on," she added. "What are you going to do?" I asked before I caught myself. "Don't worry, just do it," she said, and I caught a hint of amusement in her voice. She was obviously waiting for me, the blindfold in her hand. I turned myself over. I noticed restraints on the counter, looking like the ones I'd seen the man in as I glanced around. "OK, here we go," she said, when I was on my stomach, moving to put the blindfold on me. "What *is* this!?" I blurted and quickly sat up. This wasn't right. "Please, Mr. Sanford, lie down again," she answered. I stared at her. Too strange. "I don't have all day," she went on, looking a little perturbed. "Forget it," I said, getting up and grabbing my underpants. I started dressing. "Mr. Sanford!" "I'm leaving. I don't want any of *this*... whatever it is." I was dressed and headed back down the corridor, leaving the nurse standing there, seeming all the world like she couldn't believe I was doing this. A woman was at the front desk talking to the receptionist as I approached the front desk and she started out of the office, leaving right ahead of me. As she held the door for me, she looked back at me and I realized it was a woman who lived on my block. "Oh, hi," she said, smiling. There we were, walking out into the parking lot. I realized her smile had been a little nervous. I didn't know her first name; Beth and I always refer to her as Mrs. Jackson. I figured she was in her forties, maybe ten years older than Beth and me. "Uh, listen," she started talking as we walked. "You won't tell my husband about this, will you?" This was weird. I thought about what I'd seen in the doctor's office. "You won't, will you?" she repeated. I realized she was looking very desperate. "No," I said. I hardly ever talked to either of them so I'd have no trouble doing that for her. I briefly wondered what it was that she didn't want me to tell him: that I saw her here? She grabbed my arm. "Please?" she said. She looked like she clearly didn't believe me, though I couldn't imagine what would make her think that. "Please don't tell him!" She looked almost like she was going to cry. "I won't. I said I won't." "I *mean* it. Listen, come here," she said, still sounding concerned. She pulled on my arm back toward the building. But she pulled me behind the building. I was out of my element. I just followed along. She stopped and said. "Look, I'm *desperate*.""*Please* don't." "Look, it isn't any problem. I really don't talk to him anyway." While I was talking, she still held my arm but looked back the way we came and then looked the other way around the building. We were between the building and a high fence. Suddenly, she was on her knees in front of me, unzipping me! She glanced up at me with pleading eyes, then had my cock out and in her mouth! I looked back and forth the way she had: we were out of sight. She quickly started bobbing her head, bringing her lips up and down the length of my cock. I stared at her. I don't think I'd ever really thought about her as someone I'd be attracted to, but she was reasonably good-looking. And this was absolutely unique to *my* experience: being sucked off in an alley! She didn't stop, just went on and on, and soon I was coming in her mouth. She sat down on the ground, her arms draped around my legs, looking exhausted herself. In a few seconds, she was up again, and licking my cock, and I realized she was trying to clean it. She glanced up at me again, and I didn't see the fear I'd seen before. She put my cock back in, zipped me up, and stood up. She looked up at me, not saying anything. I couldn't imagine what she was thinking. I realized she had a speculative look in her eye. "Come here," she finally said, grabbing my wrist and pulling me back to the parking lot. She pulled me to a car and told me to get in the passenger side. She had her key out, and it was evident that it was her car. I was curious. What was she thinking? I went along with it and sat there, and soon she was driving us. She didn't say anything, but one time she did look at me, and I saw her smile as she looked back at the road. Finally, we pulled into a driveway--it wasn't our block or even anywhere close. "Come on," she said, getting out of the car. I followed her up to the front door, where she pushed the doorbell button and stood there waiting, glancing up at me one more time as she waited. A young woman answered the door--early twenties at the most: she seemed too young to me to be the owner of the house. She and Mrs. Jackson started talking right away, and in a minute, Mrs. Jackson introduced her to me as Lisa. "I work in Dr. Starne's office two mornings a week," volunteered Lisa. "She's a nurse," added Mrs. Jackson. Mrs. Jackson was taking off her clothes! The front door was shut, but we were standing in the middle of Lisa's living room, and Mrs. Jackson was taking her clothes off, seemingly as fast as she could. Lisa watched her a little while, glanced at me, and then went across the room to a little cabinet. Mrs. Jackson looked at me. "Hurry, get them off!" she said. "Listen," I said, wondering what I was going to say, "I..." I stood there, mute for a second. Lisa had returned from the cabinet. Both of them were looking at me, and Mrs. Jackson was naked. "Yes?" Mrs. Jackson prompted. "I didn't stay." I can't say my voice was very strong. "Didn't stay?" "I... that was my first time at Dr. Starne's office, and I left before..." I couldn't go on--think of what to say. In fact, I really didn't *know* what I'd left before. They both looked up at me, seeming to be amazed. I realized Lisa had blindfolds and handcuffs in her hands--for two people! The three of us were frozen. Lisa was the first one to move. "Don't worry about it," she said, putting the items she was holding on a table. Then she was right up to me, reaching up and unbuttoning my shirt! Mrs. Jackson was there in an instant, too, undoing my belt and pants! "Listen, this'll be great," said Lisa, looking excited. She had my shirt unbuttoned and was pulling it off. Mrs. Jackson had my pants and underpants down at my ankles and was trying to get my shoes untied and get me to step out. Lisa had my shirt off, and I was in just a tee-shirt. She looked at it for a second, then started unbuttoning her own blouse. I noticed that laying on the small cabinet were some dildoes and a small whip. Soon Mrs. Jackson had everything but my tee-shirt off, and Lisa was down to her bra and underpants. Lisa pulled my head down and started kissing me, wrapping her arms around my head. Mrs. Jackson was behind me, and I felt her fingering my rear. "Let's sit down," Lisa finally said, and we sat on the couch, one on each side of me. Mrs. Jackson started pulling off my tee-shirt. As soon as it was off, Lisa pulled me into another kiss. Mrs. Jackson leaned over and had my cock in her mouth again. This time she didn't bob her head, but just sucked it and tongued it. They kept doing this for a minute or more, then Lisa broke the kiss and said quietly to me: "You're going to *like* this." Then she was kissing me again. There were noises in the room, and I realized another woman was standing in front of us! I broke away from the kiss, staring at her. Lisa looked up at the woman, who was fully dressed, just watching us. She looked to be about Lisa's age, but her hair was darker and shorter. "What's going on?" asked the woman. "He got cold feet at Starne's," said Lisa. Mrs. Jackson was still sucking on my cock and doing a good job too. The woman didn't answer, but she gave a quick giggle as if she hadn't managed to catch herself. I was going to come again. Mrs. Jackson didn't stop, and I felt like I was out of control. "Can you call them?" asked Lisa, apparently to the standing woman. "Sure, what's the number?" "555-1212." The woman looked ready to go, but then just stood for a second. "What should I say?" she finally asked. I was getting closer--so close. I think since I'd come before, it was taking exquisitely long. "Get Starne to come over during lunch." "Julie? Vicki?" I was so close to coming. "Whatever. Yes, I guess so since we've got two of them." "*I* could help." She had this grin on her face. "Oh, *sure* you could," answered Lisa, her voice sounding patronizing, like a mother talking to her two-year-old. "I *could*! I've watched, you know." "Kiss me," said Lisa, and she stood up. She and the woman were kissing in seconds, and it seemed they had forgotten us completely. The woman's hands went up and down Lisa's back as they kissed, and finally one slipped inside the waistband of her underpants. They just kissed and kissed, seemingly oblivious to us. I came.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11619.txt

LeAnna

[Paint]

"Her beauty is like a whisper." "A whisper? What do you mean?" "Hmmm... When it hits you, you feel like you're something -- something special. Like she only means for you to watch the rise and fall of her breasts. Like you're the only person who is permitted to watch her legs plunge from that beatific apex, down down down to her, yes her _dainty_ ankles..." "You're quite poetic." "It's because when I watch her, I try to explain her beauty to myself. Oh, I know it can't ever be explained, but what's the harm in trying? And weeks of trying have started to affect my everyday thinking. But what I do is I sit there, watching... It's odd, actually. She could see my face, see me sitting right there in her bushes, if she'd only turn and look. But she never does. She's always too absorbed in her pai..." "You -- let me get this straight. You watch her?" "Oh, I'd never hurt her." "Do you know who she is?" "Yes." A smile darted across the shadows of my soul. "Oh, yes. It's Iris. Isn't that such a beautiful name? So fitting." "So... how did you come to meet Iris?" "I didn't." "I see." "What? What are you writing in that notebook of yours?" "Nothing. Tell me more about Iris. Why did you choose her to watch?" "Choose." A dry chuckle. "I chose her no more than a man chooses when to be born. My heart chose her." "Ah." "Can't you understand what I'm saying?" "I understand what you mean." "No, you don't. You don't understand. Look at it this way. I was _taken_ by her. She was just walking down the street, and with one glance, I was hooked. You know... I can even remember what she wore. Black leathers. So tight that it... Well, it looked like... paint... on her skin. Have you ever seen someone who is wearing paint for clothing?" "I can't say that I have, no." "It's so sensual. Sometimes you can't even tell at first that it's paint, but when you do, arousal hits you, bam, like a train." "Have you seen painted people often, then?" "She does." "She sees painted people often?" "No, she paints herself often." Pause. "Nobody sees it. She lives alone, so nobody knows it. She paints wild designs, and sometimes portraits. She slides her fingers over her face and down her neck and across her chest. Her arms. Her belly. Orange and green and black, wild, kaleidoscopic designs that swirl and dip and groove in a harmony of color. Rock 'n roll. Heavy metal! Yes!" "She paints herself?" "And it gets her off. Her slippery fingers can barely keep hold of her nipples, they're so hard. Her -- her chest starts to heave with her uneven breathing. Still, her fingers move. Down the valley of her belly, around, around the slight swell. Down! Her fingers move down! The delta of her thighs. She... Oh, her fingers never stop. She shaves so she can paint designs on the roundness of her sex. And then she paints her inner thighs, her labia, her clitoris." "That may not be healthy." "She comes in an explosive orgasm. It never takes long. Her fingers are so slippery with the paints and she's so aroused from her beautiful foreplay that in no time, she's thrashing and moaning. I can hear her. And when she is done it's a beautiful work of art. The previously plain canvas decorated in splashes of vivid color and shapes." "That's... quite unusual." "Damned right it's unusual. But it's lovely. She's quite talented. My favorite is the cat she did last Thursday. Her breasts were transformed into big, green eyes. It's hard to describe -- it's -- look, here's a photo." "I really don't think -- oh, my. She is talented." "She is, isn't she?" "But let me put it this way. She is talented, don't get me wrong. But you tell me she does it in solitary?" "Yes. She's never done it for any of her friends, or for her lover." "She does this for her own pleasure, then?" "Yes." "Don't you think it would detract from the enjoyment of her painting if she were to think that it wasn't her own private experience?" "Doctor..." "Because I think that art comes from the reaches of one's soul, the ultimate personal place." "Yet inside every artist is an exhibitionist screaming to get loose." "Perhaps -- but then, how could you explain Emily Dickinson?" "Her exhibitionist side never surfaced. She bottled it up inside. The despair in some of her poetry shows how it made her feel." "But that despair added a beautiful element to her poetry. Her poetry was an outlet for her feelings. Nevertheless." He seemed irritated. "Does this artist seem to like others viewing her work?" "Obviously not." "Well, then, why do you watch?" Silence. "Because," I said a trifle bitterly, "because art can never be private. Because this is the most beautiful expression of art that I could imagine, but due to the natural prudity that is in our genes, we cannot put it on display at a museum. And it's wrong to hide it. This is the best exhibition I could ever go to." "Well... ok. First, This is not a case of human nature wanting to reveal nudity -- this is a case of a woman finding pleasure in things she does for herself only. And you would be robbing her of that pleasure. Second..." "I think she knows that I watch her. Otherwise, why would she keep the window shades up?" "You said she never looks." "She's a woman. Women have eyes on the back of their heads -- you should know that. She's -- it's an instinct, I think. A feeling. You know, 'I felt their eyes boring into the back of my head.' Only it isn't the back of her head I'm looking at..." "Therefore, she likes it?" "Yes. That's what I'm saying." "I'm almost tempted to recommend that you go talk to her about it." "It wouldn't come over well, would it?" "It would be a 'way-we-met' story to beat all others." "Are you recommending it?" "No." "What, then?" "I'm . . . strongly . . . recommending that you come in for another appointment this Friday, as we are currently out of time." "Ah. I'll see you then." "Goodbye." "Bye." (c) LeAnna 1998 leanna1@hotmail.com http://geocities.sucks.com

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/14821.txt

Rob

The Partners

"Hey, honey," Mitch said as he towel-dried his body, making certain that the helpless female attorney had a bird's-eye view of his swollen member. "Still here, I see." He slapped her elevated rump playfully once and then harder the second time and still harder for a third time. The sting of each slap caused tears to fill the girl's eyes again. Mitch saw this and gave her a light kiss on the nose. "Don't cry, sweet thing. It won't all be painful. I promise. See? I can be nice. Let me undo those wrists." He placed her on her back and then fulfilled his promise by untying her wrists from her ankles. She looked up at him thankfully, glad to be in a different position and even happier to be able to rub the circulation back in her hands. Mitch saw her look from him to her ankles, which were still securely tied to her thighs, and said, "Sorry, baby, no can do. The ankles stay just as they are. I like seeing that cute tush of yours like that." Wendy continued to rub her wrists to get the circulation going and absently placed her untied hands by her mouth. Mitch saw what she was doing and grabbed her hands. "See what happens when you try to be nice?" he taunted. "You give an inch and she takes a yard." He looked down at her sternly and raised his voice to a near scream, "Who the hell told you to take the gag off? If I want the fucking gag off, I'll take it off!" Anger danced across his face as he once again flipped her on her stomach, pulled the ropes that were attached to each of her wrists, and strictly tied them to the bed's posts. His tone softened as unexpectedly as it had hardened seconds before. "Wendy," said Mitch. "You really must try harder to not piss me off. Okay?" She nodded. "Good girl. Now, do you want a drink of water?" She nodded again. "Okay, but you have to promise not to scream. Not that it'd do you any good because it's quite a distance to the nearest neighbor, but screaming will definitely make me mad. You promise?" She nodded for a third time, and he nodded back to her before reaching to peel the white surgical tape from her mouth. When all of the tape was removed, he told her to stay still until he got back with her water. He was still buck naked with a raging hard-on. She was tempted to spit out the black handball, but remembering the brief spanking she had just received, decided to bide her time for now and behave. Sooner or later, she thought, an opportunity to escape this hell she found herself would arise. Mitch quickly returned with a glass of ice water and a straw. He reached his index finger in her mouth and popped the ball free. Wendy coughed a few times and tried to get the saliva running again. The ball had tasted horrible, and the foul taste remained with her even though the gag was out of her mouth. "Here," said Mitch, offering her the straw so she could sip the water. "Thank you," she said between sips from the straw. "You're welcome," he replied. When she was done drinking, she looked at him and hesitated before speaking in a low, calm voice. "Mitch, please let me go." "No way, baby. No way." "You can't keep me a prisoner forever," she stated. "Why not? No one even knows you're missing. And, by the time someone files a missing person report and finds your Jeep, they'll just assume you were carjacked by some serial killer or something. Face it, Wendy, you are mine." She began to cry again as the impact of Mitch's words were driven home. Could he be right? Would anyone miss her? And if so, would they think she was a captive in Mitch's isolated cottage? Doubt filled her mind, and the tears began to flow again. "Well, what are you going to do to me?" She knew the answer but felt she had to ask the question anyway. Mitch laughed aloud and smacked her ass again. "Anything I want, sweetie. Anything I want." He offered her another sip of the water, but she shook her head. Mitch shrugged and put the glass on the dresser. "Like I said, I'm going to do anything I want to you, and you know what I want now, Wendy?" he asked as he cupped her chin in his hands. She stared up at him but remained silent. "I want you to suck my cock." And as he completed the sentence, he pulled her chin down, causing her to gasp in surprise and open her mouth wide enough for him to plunge his throbbing dick in it. "See, honey? I told you that I'd gag you with something sweeter than that old handball. But, let me warn you, Wendy. I better not feel any teeth, or you will really be sorry." He thrust in and out of her mouth. For some reason, though, he was disappointed. He thought Wendy would have been much better at giving a blow job, but she really seemed like a novice to him. Not that he didn't enjoy it, but he thought she'd have been a little more skilled. "Oh, well," he thought. "She'll learn." He smiled as he planted his hands on each side of her ass and continued to fuck her mouth. She tried to accommodate his massive cock and, for her own comfort, get into the rhythm of Mitch's thrusting, but he was too big, and she found herself gagging. She barely heard Mitch as he whispered to her to keep sucking as she concentrated on trying to breathe while his swollen cock choked her. She prayed that he would stop, but her prayers went unanswered. After a while, Mitch eased off on his thrusting. He knew he was ready to explode, but he was holding back. He had something else in mind. "Wendy," he said, "Don't move." She stayed still and felt a cold metal against her backside. Snip! Mitch had produced a pair of scissors and cut away her powder blue panties. He raised them to his face, saw that they were somewhat stained and very wet, and deeply inhaled their aroma. The panties were a lot moister than they were when he had first stripped and tied her. "Cool! Now, check this out, bitch," he said as he slid his dick from her mouth. "Look how wet these panties are. I think you're enjoying this as much as I am." He held the panties by her face, certain that she, too, was smelling her sex on them. She looked up at him, eyes blazing with anger, and defiantly spit on the floor. Mitch laughed. The captive girl looked him square in the eye and said, "I hate you! I really . . . aargh." Her words were trapped in her throat -- trapped behind the soiled panties that Mitch suddenly shoved deep in her mouth. He filled her mouth with the panties, laughing as he did so. "Suck on that for a while, bitch." He looked at the naked struggling girl and felt himself becoming aroused again. He still had not cum, but he knew that would change shortly. Wendy moaned behind the new gag and swung her lower body back and forth. It looked funny to Mitch because he had tied her so her ass was still in the air with her feet tied to her thighs. "You know something, bitch?" he asked as he moved behind her to better admire her pale white ass. "I was thinking. You know how you used to strut around the office like you were the lord's gift to litigation? Like your shit didn't smell? Everyone used to wonder if you had a stick up your ass. Well, let's test that theory." He quickly thrust his index finger between her exposed cheeks and into her waiting asshole. She writhed in pain at this unexpected attack. "Nope," he said as he probed with his finger. "No stick up there." He laughed cruelly as he plunged his rock-hard member into her asshole. "No stick. Just my dick."He thrust into her, savoring her tightness and enjoying her struggling, which only seemed to excite him more. In and out, deeper and deeper. She cried and threw her bottom up and down like a bucking bronco, but Mitch held on and kept himself firmly planted in her backside. Suddenly, he knew he was ready to explode. He pulled himself out of her ass, scurried around to the front of the bed, and pulled the panties from her mouth. Wendy lay sprawled on the bed, exhausted. She opened her mouth to take a deep breath, but by the time she saw what Mitch was up to, it was too late. As she inhaled deeply to breathe clean air, he once again thrust his dick in her mouth. She choked and gagged on his cock, which, she sickeningly remembered, had only seconds ago been up her ass. Her torment increased as she involuntarily sucked on his dirty cock, which violently exploded in her mouth, sending a long, steady stream of semen down her throat. When he was finally spent, Mitch removed his dick from her mouth and wiped it on her panties. He then stuffed them back in her mouth and secured it there with a small length of cord. The helpless female attorney lay sprawled on the bed, gasping and sobbing. "Not a bad way to start the morning," said Mitch, who was now wearing a bathrobe. "Hey, Wendy," he laughed. "How would you like to see the rest of my house? Let's go check out the basement." He scooped her up in his arms and carried her out of the bedroom.

Part 2 -- Total Control

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/17754.txt

Edward Bangor

The Tales of Hampton Wick (Part 7)

"Got you at last." Tommy cried, lashing the startled boy across the buttocks with his hand. Barelyable to feel the blow through the thickness of his denim dungarees, Scotty Armstrong didn't give a vocal answer, he simply turned and faced his captor. Smack! The blow to his cheek made Scotty's eyes water. "Move!" Tommy ordered, repeating the order as necessary until he had the slightly younger boy safely inside the Groundsman's hut. Only then did Scotty realise what was happening. Only there's nothing to be seen but his big brother's best friend whose intent is made plainly obvious by the stretched condition of his trousers. "Drop 'em!" It was a familiar pattern just as it was to all boys of the generation. Faced with such a demand from an elder boy there was nothing for him to do but unfasten the braces of his overalls and step out of the garment. Naked, he stood, his prick already rising. Tommy ignored it. "Lie on the mat." The boy wasn't even down when Tommy snatched the legs from under him and flattened him on the floor. Flicked onto his back, limbs stretched, one by one, until both wrists and ankles were secured to pegs hammered into the compacted mud floor. His prisoner helplessly laid out across the floor, Tommy spent a few moments looking over the pretty sight that reminded him so much of his best friend, only smaller, and more manageable. The heavy mane of dirty, blond hair trailed about the deeply sun-tanned flesh, providing a contrast so harsh it became delightful in itself. The skin, an even colouring everywhere but under the raised arms and around the stretched crutch. There, only a light brushing of pubic hair broke the soft lines and crystal white of the unblemished flesh. The puppy fat that had recently covered Scotty had disappeared in the last few months but as he'd only recently left the village school and entered full-time employment the strength and definition of Chris had yet to break through to the surface. Yet already the shade and structure of sizeable boy could be detected, most noticeably in a prick that, despite the three year age gap, was only half-an-inch smaller than the weapon secreted inside Chris's trousers. Although thinner, Scotty's prick roared up in an erection so intense it didn't stand horizontal rather, lay flat upon the harden abdomen as if begging to be wanked. The boy duly moaned as Tommy snatched his prick and gave it the flick-test. Pulling it all the way down until the shaft pressed between the twin bollocks and then releasing it so it snapped up, with a smack, back where it had come from. "This," Tommy said seriously as he picked up the prick, "Can get you into serious trouble and I should know. You have to learn to control it. Do you want me to show you how they taught us to do that at the orphanage?" Scotty, who'd heard Chris tell some wild tales of the all-boys home in which Tommy had grown up, nodded eagerly. Smiling, the youth reached for the thin wooden ruler he'd lifted from Mr. Nelson's workshop and showed it to the helpless boy. "This is what the Superintendent used if he found a boy stiff during his night rounds." The prick throbbed in anticipation. "Slowly, he'd creep up to the sleeping boy, and lift up the course blanket each of us had. Not allowed to sleep in our clothes, we'd be naked underneath. Carefully, so as not to wake us, the Superintendent, would move the stiff boy into a workable position and then deliver his punishment." Whistle! Slap! The ruler landed on the slanted eye at the end Scotty's prick. The pain jerked him against the ropes holding him and caused the cry to stick in his mouth even before it had began to form. His prick dropped instantly. Tommy laughed. "Works every time. Fancy another go?" he offered. His eyes watering, Scotty declined in a voice croaked with emotion. "Oh well. maybe you'll change you mind after work." Tommy stood up. "I'll see you later." "He ain't going to be here is he?" "He might." Gerald answered his distraught friend. "You saw the look on Cotton's face. He had been up to something. I'd bet the Estate on it." "Yeah, but you know what happened last time we was caught here. Your arse ain't going to take much more beating." "You let me be the judge of..." "Heeeeellllpp!" The two boys stopped in their tracks. Nervously Paul grasped at his friend's arm. "What the fuck was that?" "No idea." Gerald shrugged. "There's only one way to find out!" Paul opened his mouth to protest but the future Lord was already on his way towards the hut they'd been skirting around. Not overly eager to relive his many punishment sessions within the wooden walls, Paul hung back until Gerald's cry of, "What do we have here?" brought him running. "Help!" the bound boy repeated less hysterically as the boys entered his prison. "Tommy done this to me and I can't get out." "So it would seem." smiled Gerald. "Paul, see if you can lend a hand." The large framed boy soon released the ankles but was stopped when he went to move onto the wrists. "There is no need for that." Gerald told him. The dirty blond head snapped up, with the question, "Why the hell not?" Ignoring the interruption, Gerald directed his next comment to Paul, "I think it would be preferable if he remained silent during our activities." Neither Paul nor Scotty understood the latter part of his sentence but the initial thrust was soon put into action. Once more Paul's filthy hankie was pressed into another boy's mouth, as an effective gag. "There, that is better, is it not?" The question rhetorical, no one answered in the pause given. Gerald gave Paul a prod before continuing. "I think it would be best if we employed the method we initiated in Cotton's bedroom. Would you care to have the boy prepared for such an operation?" Paul shook his head at his friend's strange way of speaking, and then asked for his help. Gerald seated upon the miscreant's legs so the rope could be refastened to the left ankle. Paul then selected a suitable position on the wall from where he removed the tool which hung there and wrapped the cord around the protruding nail, once. Exerting most of his strength on the end of the rope, lifted Scotty's leg from the floor and brought it backwards. With no option but to roll into an inverted ball, Scotty moaned and groaned through his gag as his body contorted until his knees are pressed to either side of his face. His arse raised completely from the floor. Tossing his head back he can see his toes pressed into the side wall and the red rings the cord made in his tender flesh as it bit down. By craning his neck up the view changes to that of his own prick, complete with two inch wide rule-stripe, and inverted bollocks, but it is the view from between his folded legs which provided him with most concern. There, a saliva slickened, aristocratic finger brushed his erected prick and down the length of the shaft, across the base of his bollocks and into the immodestly widened crack of his arse. Trailing across the sensitive skin between balls and arsehole, it sunk lower and lower until it reached the anal lips themselves. There, it circled the opening, prodding and pushing until they gave slightly. The carefully manicured finger entered. "Not at all tight." observed Gerald. "Should be a good fit."The bound boy's chest sighed for him as the finger came from his nether regions. He watched, staring, as Gerald slipped out of his neatly pressed clothing and displayed his five-inch prick. Pinching the skin between thumb and finger, the head becomes exposed. Red, wet, and ready to go. Wanking in a steady motion, Gerald slickened his knob-end with the lubrication it provided and knelt behind the spread boy's arse. Continuing to please himself, he feasted for a couple of moments on the delightful hole before lifting his face from between the flexing buttocks and replacing it with his bulbous prick. Screwing his eyes shut, Scotty concentrated all his attention on keeping the invader out. His sphincter contracted, locked tight against the intrusion. His bollocks seized in a death grip that simultaneously caressed and hurt. The pressure against his hole increased as Gerald leaned over and pressed his entire weight onto the opening between his legs. Little jabs were made, small twists, every trick in the arse-fucker's guidebook employed to get into him. Sooner or later, one of them had to work. At the moment his prick became enveloped in a pumping fist, Scotty surrendered to the inevitable and was impaled. "Master Gerald!" Paul stage-whispered, "Master Gerald!" The fucking, which had only just started, didn't stop although Gerald did call a temporary halt to his attempts to kiss the avoiding, gagged, mouth to ask what the trouble was. Paul never got the chance to answer. Someone else did though. "Get off my brother Master Gerald, and turn around."Billy Nelson put his hands around the man's unshaven chin and rattled the great head, "Wake up dad!" he whispered to no avail. Gently he slapped the cheeks. Nothing. He bent, and kissed, reigning his lips over his father's. Spotting the bear bottle was still half empty he tried a hair of the dog. Easing down the jaw, he rested the neck of the bottle upon his father's chin and raised the body. Slowly a trickle of golden liquid ebbed and flowed forward to drip into the cavernous mouth. Mr. Nelson groaned. "Dad, dad," his youngest son chanted, "Paul's wants you to... you know? What you said." The man's eyelids flickered but stayed firmly shut. "More drink!" he mumbled. Billy tipped up the bottle. It was empty. "There ain't no more." "Need more." The tongue extended, licking around the neck of the bottle so sexually even Billy couldn't help but notice and understand. Quickly he stood, ripped his shirt down his arms and pushed his shorts to his knees. His pricklet thickening. Kneeling, he caressed himself with his right hand. "You sure Dad?" he asked. "More drink!" was the answer. Shrugging, Billy leaned over his father's face and pressed the tip of his foreskin to the licked lips. It slipped right in. Billy giggled and hunched his hips a couple of times, in experimentation. It felt great. He watched his father's head turn slightly to become directly in front of his young loins and allow his short length to slide all the way inside. After a few minutes Billy's initial interest began to vanish. He didn't want such a passive partner. His big, strong, father shouldn't be made love to in such a fashion by a little boy. Mr. Nelson should be the one taking control of the situation. Yanking his still lengthening pricklet from the man's face, Billy tried, once more, to gain some sort of response from his father, but no matter how much he rattled the great head, or kissed the sucking lips he couldn't raise more than the faintest squeak. He returned to fucking it. The first inch of Billy's pricklet having hardened, made the remainder drooped at an unfaltering angle, as if it were a balloon that had yet to be fully inflated. However, it as this which enabled him to give his father's face such a royal fuck as he did. Whilst the knob-end and majority of the shaft continued to point down the paternal throat, the erected sections allowed him to butt against lips and cause the foreskin to be retracted so the knob could press against the languishing tongue. Slowly Billy's pricklet became teased by this and erected itself to its full four-and-a-half inch length which, by angling his father's head back slightly, Billy found he could poke right down into the tighter section of Mr. Nelson's throat. Muscles he didn't know he had rose up in his compact body as he hunched back and forth over the inert figure. Strands of mousy hair, flapped over his sweet, young, face until sweat forced them to cling to his scalp. Then it happened, his father began to wake. It wasn't the prodding in his throat which woke Mr. Nelson, but the sensation of the hot, hairless, bollocks slapping against his nose. Memories of his brother flooded into his head, dispelling some of the alcohol that had languished there. His right hand raised, automatically, to take another beer and found the body crouched over him. The boy's torso jerked away in fright when he touched it but he soon calmed that by stroking the hollow beneath the tossed back shoulders. The huge fingers gradually widening the area under inspection to include the nearest hip and buttocks, before sliding beneath to stroke the hard, flat belly, and pinch the pin-prick nipples of his youngest son. Initially Mr. Nelson was surprised to find out just whose pricklet it was that he had in his mouth for he'd never suspected little Billy possessed such a delightful prick as the one he chewed, let alone the knowledge of how to use it. Then, as he thought back to his own childhood, twenty-odd years, previously he realised such things must run in the family. More than once he'd laid under his beloved elder-brother, as the teenager's prick expanded the dimensions of his mouth and throat. He eased Billy up so he could fully explore what he'd bequeathed him. The pricklet, erect now, pointed up tight to the belly as only a young boy's could. It's owner groaned and sighed as the adult's tongue lapped around the ridge inside the foreskin. A hand, gripping his arse, prevented him from sinking back into the warm, vacuuming mouth until the inspection had been completed and then directed the slowed rhythm once it had done. Doing full press-ups now, Billy's eyes screwed shut and he bit down on his upper lip, surrendering himself to his father's loving caresses of his rear. One hand on the small of his back, the other sliding up and down between the upper parts of his thighs. Fingertips nestled against his swinging bollocks. "Fuck me Dad?" he whispered. Suddenly he was thrown off. "I can't!" Mr. Nelson said. "Why not?" "You're too little." "I'm not." Billy rose to his full five-foot-two-inch height, still stroking his pricklet. "You did it to Master Gerald." For a moment Mr. Nelson remembered that chubby, white, aristocratic arse and the way it had felt to fuck it and how the future Lord had enjoyed it. Hearing a squishing noise of his trousers being undone he remembered what was being proposed. "He's older than you!" "Not by that much." "Enough... Oooohhh!" Mr. Nelson sighed. His prick was out now, being caressed in warm, manipulative fingers. "To make a difference." "Bet I could take it," stated Billy, "I've been fucked before." Mr. Nelson smiled, "Paul?" "And Master Gerald, and Tommy, and Chris Armstrong, and..." "Alright, I believe you. But I'm bigger than all of them. It even hurts your mum when I put it in her." The image stifled Billy's keenness somewhat, although not enough. He'd remembered something that would help. "Will you do it," he said, "If I show you my bum can take it?" "Why not?" Billy took that to be the answer he wanted and snatched the beer bottle up. Releasing his pricklet for the first time he spat into his hand and rubbed it around the neck of the bottle. Looking into his father's confused eyes, he wanked the neck until recognition signalled between the generations. Returning to wanking himself, Billy crouched, with his knees open and bent double and reached behind himself to place the beer bottle onto a patch of firm, flat ground and directed it to his hole. His lip again seized between his teeth, he wanked at a faster rate, and began to bounce the bottle against his anus. Mr. Nelson's eyes almost popped right out of their sockets. From where he lay, he had the perfect view of all Billy held dear. The right hand little more than a blur on the pricklet, the bollocks beneath bounced and jingled, the action keeping them clear of the main area. Slippy fingers struggled to hold the bottle still at the bottom, whilst, at the top there was no such trouble. The neck couldn't go anywhere for it was firmly implanted in the rectum of his youngest son who seem intent on taking as much of it up him as he could. Every couple of seconds a little more would disappear and would then reappear only to vanish again along with that little bit more. In a fraction of a second Billy reached the bottom of the neck, where the diameter doubled. "Careful Billy!" Mr. Nelson warned, his arse having bleed when thrust down on the balled handle of a shovel during his own initiation rites when he was little older than his youngest. Then, he'd had little control over how fast the timber had entered him, as he was tied and gagged and dropped onto it. Billy, on the other hand, had all the control in the world. Gritting his teeth so hard, they ground he raised himself to the very edge of the expansion and dropped. "AAaarghh!" he groaned as the glass opened him wider. The pain more intense than he'd imagined threaten to split him. He tried to rise but his father held him down. The large hands wrapped around his thighs. "Go on Billy. You can do it," he was encouraged. "It hurts!" he spat but even as he said it the pain diminished to a dull throb that didn't feel so bad. He began to move. Not up this time but down. In little jerky motions he forced more of the glassware into him until there was little doubt he would be able to handle the solid lump of flesh that thrust itself out from his father's flies. This time there would be no argument. Quickly father and son exchanged places. Billy lay face down on the floor with their combined clothes bundled up beneath his belly, his youthful arse angled up at what he hoped would be the perfect angle for fucking. He heard his father spit into his hand and felt the rubbing and lubrication of his crack and then up, into his hole. He felt so gaping and open after the bottle he hardly noticed anything until he squirmed all over the floor as a thick, working man's finger shoved itself deep inside him. He heard his father spit, coughing up a real handful which he then massaged into, and around, his knob-end. It pressed to Billy's hole, and pushed. "Arghhhh!" the little boy shrieked in pain. Hands dropped to his back, holding, caressing away the pain until he was ready to continue. The second time, as always, wasn't so bad. Biting his lip hard enough to draw blood, Billy felt his sphincter give way and, just as if he was having the biggest shit of his young life, backwards, his father's enormous prick slipped into his hole. He bucked against it. "Get used to it first Billy," Mr. Nelson said with a laugh, holding back his son's rampant enthusiasm. "Then I'll stick the rest in." Billy sighed, he thought he had it all. The thought of more slapped his pricklet against his belly. "Take a deep breath, and keep doing it!"He followed the instructions exactly. Billy's father knew everything, or so the boy thought. Gulping down great lung-fulls of the unpolluted forest air only to exhale it in gasps as more prick fed itself into him. No more words of instruction followed - it was all Mr. Nelson could do to gasp, the supreme tightness of Billy's anus rendered him next-to-speechless - for each participant knew exactly what to do in order to enjoy themselves. Sure, it hurt Billy a bit, more than a bit, having something as large as his father's prick stuffed up his arse, but felt good too. Better than good. Better than anything. Mr. Nelson, for his part, went at it like a madman. Humping, pumping, wanking and fucking, he did the lot, all to his son. Every time he shoved in, he felt like he was coming home, completing the circle his own brother had started with him. Fulfilling the fantasies he'd had about his own father, providing that service for young Billy before the boy had even the chance to have it. Somewhat squashed beneath his father's heavy body, Billy didn't think about anything but the prick pounding in and out of his rectum. Playing with his brother had been fun but that was kid's stuff when compared to what his father could do for him. He didn't need anyone to touch his penis for that was doing fine by itself as it pressed and rolled about the spunk drenched clothing, jumped each and every time his arse got poked from behind. He'd had so many orgasms he'd lost count, unsure there was any gap between them. Suddenly, it was all over. With a strange cry Mr. Nelson rammed himself as high up into Billy's column as he could get, hugged the boy good and tight and shot his fatherly spunk out in great gushing streams. For several minutes the couple remained joined at the hips with the larger of the two pricks still stuffed into the smaller anus even though it wasn't as hard as it once had. "Billy," Mr. Nelson groaned. "Yes dad," sighed the youngster flexing the internal muscles of his rectum. "Why were you looking for me? Did your mum want something?" "No. It's Paul." Mr. Nelson panicked and tried to regain his prick. Billy wouldn't let it go, so he asked, "He's not in trouble is he, your brother?" "No! Not yet but he wants to be." "What's that mean?" "NOoohh!" exclaimed Billy as arse filled again. "But, he wants to be." The thrusting resumed as the youngster explained the teenager's plan, exciting his father's lust to a pitch that would have been unheard of by Mrs. Nelson.

T/b M/b B/b Spank bd

Chapters Thirty-Eight and Thirty-Nine

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/10167.txt

Daphne

Tit Torture-Free Site

"YOWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!" Something zapped my breasts! I slammed forward and bounced backward, nearly falling over. I caught myself just in time and glanced around furtively, hoping nobody noticed. Fortunately, only a couple of people were in this computer cluster: one busily typing away at his workstation, and the other asleep with his head on the keyboard. It was eight in the morning; few people were still up this late. As the pain in my breasts dissipated, I was able to breathe normally again. I nervously looked back at my workstation, wondering if I dared touch it. What the heck had happened? I had typed in a URL in Netscape and was waiting for it to connect when it happened! Netscape was there waiting, displaying my webpage in all innocence as if nothing had happened. I stood there, terrified to touch the workstation again. Finally, I carefully reached around back and rebooted the workstation. I logged into the one next to it and composed an email to the system folk telling how the workstation had malfunctioned. Then I started up Netscape and tried to access the website again -- ZAP! Not again! What the heck was going on? Was it my imagination, or had I briefly seen electric current jumping from the screen to the nipples of my breasts? They were sticking out noticeably under my tee-shirt, and they still felt extremely sensitive. I dashed off another furious email and logged off in a huff. After class that afternoon, I logged in again. I went to a different cluster, with a different brand of workstations. I still remembered the soreness in my breasts. Maybe it was superstition, but I didn't want to take the chance. I first checked my email. Sigh, it was mostly spam: "$50,000 Guaranteed!" "!Learn the Secrets of Attracting Girls!" "##Young, Hung, and Full of Cum!!" "High School Grrls Wanting and Ready for You!" "!!Tit Torture-Free Site!!" "Free Sex!" "Man Sucking Teen Tampon!" "No Spam! No Password! Simply HOT YOUNG GURLZ, Barely Legal!" "Get Rich Quick! Make $50,000!!" "Writers Wanted!" What was up with those idiots? Couldn't they tell from my name that I might possibly be female? I also received a reply to my messages earlier this morning: They had checked the workstations and found nothing wrong with them; what I had described could not possibly have happened. Furthermore, I was not to reboot a workstation except under the direst emergency. Rebooting a workstation can potentially damage the workstation and the network. I angrily bumped that message to the "Extra" box. Yep. 'Twas "Notwork Noservices" for you. I started up Netscape again and clicked on a URL. I waited expectantly, then -- ZAP! Owwww, my poor breasts! Why oh why me, why is this happening to me? I wondered, burying my head in my arms on the keyboard and weeping. When I sat back up, I noticed nearly everyone in the room looking at me. Embarrassed, I quickly clicked on the logoff button and walked out of the room in humiliation. That evening after supper, I finally succumbed to temptation and logged in again, in a third cluster. This time, I decided to use Arena instead of Netscape, just in case. Of course, it was utterly ridiculous to think that the web had anything to do with those shocks on my breast. It had to have been pure coincidence that the shocks came just as I was opening a webpage. Something was the matter with those particular workstations; that's all it was. Nevertheless, after typing in the URL, I stood up off to the side almost in front of the next workstation over. I kept waiting and waiting, not daring to press the ENTER key just yet. "Excuse me, mind if I take this machine?" Yikes! I jumped, startled. "Oh, yes. Of course." A bit embarrassed, I slid back to my own workstation. Apparently this was the only free workstation, and someone wanted to use it. Distracted, I pressed ENTER -- ZAP!!!! Everyone heard my shriek, I'm sure. The guy asked, "Is something wrong?" "Yes, very wrong!" I managed to hold back my tears as I turned and walked out. I ran all the way to my dorm and upstairs to my room and jumped on my bed for a good long cry. Of course, I couldn't keep myself off the Internet. I logged on again the next morning. Along with the usual spam, I received an email reminding me to log out when I leave, saying how tempted he was to invite everyone to a strip poker party. Okay, it was going to be another one of those days. I slid down underneath the table before connecting to a website. Nothing happened that I could tell, but I decided to wait a couple of minutes just to be on the safe side. "Excuse me, Miss. What are you doing under there?" came a harsh male voice above. "Um, uh, checking something out." "Young lady, if you have a problem with the computers, don't try to fix things yourself. You could break something. Report the problem to Network Services." I slid out from underneath, flaming in embarrassment. The man looked down at me. "Understand, young lady?" I nodded, flaming. He turned and walked away. I turned to sit down at the workstation -- ZAP! Grrrrrrr! Somebody's going to be castrated for this! I imagined the scissors snipping: snip-snip-snip-snip. The next time, I asked a girl sitting next to me to try it. She didn't know how to use Netscape, but once I showed her, she was able to access the web without problem. Meanwhile, I got ZAPPED again. She gave me a weird look, circled her finger around her ear, and left. Another time, I slid a nice thick loop of rubber on me, across my breasts and around the back, under my tee-shirt. It was awfully tight, especially on my breasts, but it should be a good insulator, I thought. Anything would be better than being ZAPPED. "What ARE you wearing under there?" someone asked on the way. "Under where?" I pretended not to know what he was talking about. "Rather strange underwear. We can see it through your clothes, you know." I blushed and ran off. I should have worn a dark tee-shirt instead of a white one. Anyway, the thing didn't work; I got ZAPPED again. When I took it off that evening, I found two holes burnt through the rubber, right at my nipples. The next time I logged in, someone asked, "What are you doing in that scuba suit?" "What? Oh, am I still wearing this? I guess I forgot to take it off." "Uh huh, right." He shook his head and walked away, muttering, "That girl needs help." Sigh, nothing worked. I was always ZAPPED, no matter what site I accessed, no matter what workstation I used, no matter what web-browser I used. Ahhhhhh!!!! Sorting through my email, removing the ever-increasing spam, I noticed one title that had been coming with obnoxious frequency: "Tit Torture-Free Site!" I blush to admit that I actually opened the spam and read it. The message was very short. "The Only Site You'll Ever Need!" followed by a URL repeated three times. Feeling really foolish at following up a spam, I clicked on the URL and Netscape popped up. Darn, too late! I twisted my body in what I knew was a futile attempt to avoid the ZAP, and then came -- Nothing. I looked at the screen. The webpage had loaded up, and -- miracle of miracles! -- I wasn't ZAPPED! I never found out what was happening. But that no longer matters. Whenever I access the Web, I go to the "Tit Torture-Free Site." I will never use another site. This is The Only Site I'll Ever Need. The ENDto/erotica/assm/faq.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/7573.txt

Candy Kane

Girls Loving Girls Part 2

"Hi Lisa." Brenda held the door open. The petite seventh grader smiled and walked in, a small gym bag hung from her right hand. "You guys are really great to let me come over," Lisa said as she stood in the foyer and looked around. I could see her from the living room. She was dressed in short denim cutoffs and a Nike pullover. Her long blond hair was tied in a ponytail, and she wore white tennis shoes, no socks. Her legs were long and firm, and starting to take shape; the two little mounds on her chest were developing nicely. Brenda was right, she did have a cute ass, and it definitely filled out her snug shorts. My pussy tingled at the thought of licking it. "Come on in, Lisa," I called. She walked into the living room, sat her bag down, and plopped down on the couch beside me. "You hungry?" I asked. "No thanks, Karen, I ate just before I came over." Then she turned and looked at the TV. "What are you watching?" she asked with a startled expression. I had one of my dad's X-rated video tapes playing in the VCR, the ones he and mom kept hidden and didn't think we knew about. I had located a hot scene just as Lisa arrived. "Oh, this," I said nonchalantly. "We rented a couple of movies for tonight. You like adult films?" As Lisa stared at the screen, two girls and a guy had just undressed each other. "Yeah, I guess," Lisa said, transfixed on the images. One girl knelt in front of the guy and put his dick in her mouth while the other girl crawled under her friend and ate her. Brenda came over and sat on the other side of Lisa. "This movie is guaranteed to get you wet," she said. "Yeah?" was all Lisa said, sinking back into the couch and slipping her shoes off. "You don't mind if I turn the lights down, do you, Lisa?" I asked. "No," she said, never taking her eyes off the sex on the TV screen. As the movie continued, the scene got hotter: the two girls were doing each other in a sixty-nine while the guy screwed the one on top from behind. The girl on the bottom licked her friend's cunt and the guy's balls at the same time. It didn't take more than a few minutes before I saw Lisa move her hand down between her legs. I tried not to let her know I was watching, but this was definitely promising. The hotter the movie made her, the better our chances of getting her out of those little tight shorts. Lisa reminded me of some girls we had fun with last summer. Brenda and I were counselors at a girl's camp in the mountains. One night we wound up looking after six twelve-year-olds while the rest of the kids went on an overnight campout. It started raining, so the eight of us were stuck in one of the cabins. The girls were all restless and horny, and the conversation quickly turned to sex. One of them had smuggled in a copy of Penthouse and started reading the letters out loud. One story was about two cheerleaders who took a shower together and wound up making love. This brought a lot of suggestive comments about what would happen if we all showered together. Then we looked at the pictures and decided to vote on the best ones. The winner was a pictorial showing three lesbians in a hot tub doing what girls do best. I was getting really turned on, and I told the girls I had to go pee. I motioned Brenda to follow me into the bathroom, and when we were alone, I suggested we sneak off to one of the other empty cabins and make love. To entice her, I put my hand down my jeans and slipped a finger into my already wet hole. I offered it to her, and she licked it clean, saying it tasted tempting. Then she pulled her pants down and sat on the toilet. As I watched her pee, she spread her legs so I could see the golden stream shoot out. We liked to watch each other pee, and I always got a tingle seeing her wipe herself. Lucky tissue. As she pulled her jeans back up, she said that after what she saw earlier, we might have more fun staying there. I asked her what she meant, and she told me that two of the girls went outside on the porch to smoke a cigarette. After a few minutes, she went to the window to see what was taking them so long, and she saw them making out and feeling each other up. I immediately saw her point; my pussy moistened at the idea of eating something that young and sweet. When we came out of the bathroom, the girls were still looking at the pictures in the magazine. This time it was a series of shots of a girl laying on her back in a bathtub letting the water shoot onto her pussy. Everyone agreed they had to try that as soon as they got home. Brenda had a couple of joints, and we all sat around and smoked them. Then someone suggested we play strip poker. To make it interesting, we decided that the loser of each hand had to let another girl remove the article of clothing. Brenda lost the first hand on purpose to break the ice. She picked me, and I pretended to be her boyfriend. I slowly unbuttoned her shirt, seductively sliding it off her shoulders. Then I went behind her, reached around, and playfully fondled her breasts, pinching her nipples through her bra. The girls called out for more and cheered me on. I pulled one side of her bra down and flashed them a nipple. This brought more cheers and applause. I lost the next hand, so I stood up and made Brenda kneel in front of me and pull my jeans down. Like a guy shoving dollar bills in a stripper's garter, Brenda stuck a few playing cards in the top of my panties and asked me what she got for her "money". One of the cards was an ace, so I put it down the front of my panties and rubbed it on my wet pussy. I took it out and let her sniff. Then she passed it around, and the girls all agreed I smelled sexy. I told them they could sniff me for an ace and lick me with a full house. I'd go down on any girl that could come up with a straight flush. A couple of the girls frantically shuffled through the deck, trying to put the right combination of cards together. We were laughing so hard we cried. Everyone really got into the game, whistling and clapping, yelling "take it off" or "go all the way". I lost another hand. Brenda removed my bra and teased my nipples until they were hard and stuck straight out. Then she hooked her fingers in the sides of my bikini panties and slowly pulled them down until my bare slit was showing. Just the week before, we had started shaving each other's pussies. She tried to taste me, but I pushed her away, saying she only paid to sniff, not to lick. That brought tons of laughs and catcalls. I pulled my panties back up, telling the girls I hadn't technically lost them yet, but I'd still give them something to look at. Pressing the thin silk crotch together, I stretched it so it disappeared between the folds of my pussy; my lips stuck out on each side. When I sat back down, I spread my legs so everyone got a good view. It made me so wet knowing seven girls were mentally eating me. The effect of the grass was really kicking in now, and everyone was acting silly and having fun. The comments were getting very sexual, bisexual to be exact. One of the girls lost the next hand. While her friend pulled the girl's shorts off, Brenda announced that all this was making her so horny she didn't care which one of us fucked her as long as it was soon. Each time it was our turn to strip a piece of clothing off one of the girls, Brenda and I would "accidentally" touch them between their legs, brush their nipples or whisper something sexy in their ears. By the time we were all down to just panties, everyone was masturbating, and the air was thick with the smell of wet pussies. Then a couple of the girls started French kissing and playing with each other. One of the girls, a pretty little redhead with pink lace panties, had been staring at my partially exposed pussy for the last few hands. There was no mistaking the look in her eyes and the wet spot between her legs that she wanted to fuck me. Acting like there was no one else in the room, she stood up and slipped her panties off. Then she came over and sat in my lap, wrapping her legs around me. She held her panties up and asked me if I wanted a sniff. With our eyes locked on each other, I brought them to my nose, breathed deeply, and licked her girl-cum off the crotch. She smelled and tasted heavenly. Then she said that if I wanted, she could lick the real thing.We kissed passionately, and she ran her hand down between my legs. The other girls were going crazy watching us, and the last of their panties flew off. Brenda went and turned out the lights, and the next thing I knew, there were naked girls everywhere. I had never heard so much slurping and sucking and moaning in my life. In the dark, it didn't matter who was with whom; it was a pussy-eating frenzy. My little redhead was so turned on that the first time I touched her clitoris, she screamed and climaxed. I remember at one point having two girls sucking my nipples, one eating me, and one sitting on my face. It was so much fun showing them how to please each other. The best part was when we all formed a daisy chain circle and everyone "ate at the Y." Eventually, we paired off and found an empty bunk. I lost count of how many times I came that night because the girl I slept with was having the first orgasms of her life and she was insatiable; we fucked for hours. When she finally fell asleep, I laid there for a long time with her in my arms, listening to the erotic sounds of the other girls making love. The next morning, I awoke from a wonderful wet dream to find my little redhead was back in my bed. She had her warm mouth on my breast and a finger in my pussy. I pulled her mouth to mine, and she tasted delicious. She said good morning and asked if I was hungry. I told her I was starving, and she giggled, saying she had something for me to eat. Then she got up on her knees, straddled my face, and lowered herself down on my mouth. Soon, her cries woke up all the others, and it didn't take long before the sounds of girls loving girls filled the cabin. Finally, when everyone had climaxed one last time, we got up and came together in the middle of the cabin. At some point during the night, we had all made love to one another. Now we lovingly pressed our naked bodies together, kissing and hugging. The girls would be going home that day, so we promised that next summer we would have a reunion. My little redheaded still calls me once or twice a month to talk about the night we made love. We always wind up masturbating together on the phone. Thinking about how much fun I had with all that fresh girl-candy made my pussy ache as I sat next to Lisa and watched the porn flick. I was really turned on, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lisa rubbing herself. "This is making me so hot," Brenda said and stood up. We wore only T-shirts and panties, and Brenda pulled her shirt over her head. She slipped her panties down and slid them off, purposefully bending over so Lisa got a full view of her ass and sex. Her nipples stood out like pencil erasers as she sat back down, this time right next to Lisa. God, she played dirty, I thought with a smile. "What are you doing?" Lisa said. Her voice was more puzzled than alarmed as she looked at the naked girl beside her. "I don't know about you," Brenda said, "but I'm so fucking horny." She started caressing her breasts and rolling her nipples between her fingers. "Does this bother you?" she asked Lisa. "If it does, I'll stop." "Well, no, I guess not." Lisa was not attempting to hide the fact that she was rubbing herself now, and Brenda's beautiful, naked body so close to her only seemed to add to her arousal. "I think you've got the right idea, Brenda," I said and pulled my shirt off. Without standing up, I slipped my panties under my ass and down my legs. Then I tossed them at Brenda, who held the crotch up to her nose. "Smells like somebody wants to fuck," she said and playfully tossed them back at me. "Are you guys always this . . ." "Horny?" Brenda said. "Definitely," I added. "Sometimes we get so turned on," Brenda said, "we do each other." Lisa's eyes grew wide as she looked back and forth at our naked bodies. The timing was perfect as the movie changed to a girl-girl love scene. It was obvious I had picked the right tape; there were two beautiful, young girls French kissing. Lisa watched intently as they got into a sixty-nine and went down on each other. "Don't you just love having your pussy eaten like that?" I said as I looked at Lisa. "I've never . . . ." she said softly. Her little body must be on fire by now, I thought. Her hands were between her legs, her fingers fighting their way under the edge of her shorts. Brenda leaned over and whispered in Lisa's ear, "That'll be a lot more fun if you take your pants off." Without hesitating, Lisa wiggled out of her shorts and panties, and pulled her shirt over her head. She wasn't wearing a bra, and her breasts, the size of ripe plums, looked delicious. When her fingers went back to work, I looked down at the most beautiful little hairless pussy. Lisa's fingers moved in and out, her head back slightly, her breathing heavy. The sight made me light-headed. Brenda winked at me, and I knew what she was thinking. In less than ten minutes, we had managed to get Lisa to take her clothes off and masturbate in front of us. This was too easy. Phase two of our seduction of Lisa was about to begin. So far, it had been each of us doing our own thing. Now it was time for group involvement. When the movie ended, I stood up. "I feel like dancing," I said and went over to the CD player. I put on a grinding rock song and moved back in front of the two naked girls. As the song started, I did my best slut dance; a lot of bending over and squatting down so Lisa could see what was between my legs. She stared at my crotch as I ran my hands up and down my body. Then I reached out and said, "Lisa, come dance with me." She gave Brenda a hesitant look and then turned back to me, not sure what to do. Brenda ran her hand up the inside of Lisa's thigh, lightly touching her pussy, and whispered in her ear, "Let's see how wet you two can make me." I danced over and took Lisa by the hand. Pulling her off the couch, I brought her to the middle of the room and started dancing beside her. She caught on quickly, and it was obvious she had a little slut in her too. Soon she was rubbing up against me, teasing me with her ass and sliding her hands seductively over her body and down between her legs. I could tell Brenda was thoroughly enjoying our little game. Lisa was definitely aroused; I could smell her pussy, and it drove me crazy. The song ended, and a slow song started. Lisa took a step toward the couch as if she was going to sit down when I grabbed her hand and pulled her back. "Want to drive Brenda crazy?" I said. "Let's see how sexy we can slow dance together." I turned her around so she faced my sister and pushed my crotch against her ass, pressing my tits into her back. Moving my pelvis in a slow, sexy motion, I placed my hands on her hips and guided her in sync with me. Lisa quickly followed my lead, and we moved over to dance just a few feet in front of Brenda. My sister already had her legs spread and was masturbating, her eyes glued to the spot between Lisa's legs. The music was perfect: slow and steamy. I felt Lisa reach behind and start rubbing my hips and thighs. She slid one hand down between my legs and played with my bush while she used her other to stroke herself. Then she closed her eyes and let her head drift back to rest on my shoulder. I kissed her neck and ear, whispering how fantastic her body felt against me. "Do you like it too?" I asked. "I love it," she answered, never opening her eyes. Her finger found my slit, and I trembled at her touch. I lightly pulled her chin around, and our lips met. I slid my tongue into her mouth. She tasted so warm and sweet! We kissed as I felt her finger slide easily into my wet hole. Then Lisa let out a heavy moan. I looked down to see Brenda on her knees, her head buried in the little girl's crotch. My hands went up and cupped Lisa's breasts, and I closed my mouth over hers, exploring the inside with my tongue. It was all I could do to keep from falling, I was so aroused. Finally, I led her to the couch and laid on my back, pulling her down on me. She kissed me passionately, her tongue in my mouth. I pulled her knees up, spreading her open for my sister. Brenda lay between my legs and sank her face into Lisa's ass while she fingered me. I ran my hands all over Lisa's body, trying to taste and touch as much of her as I could. I was dying to eat her, but I let Brenda have the first taste. I could tell from their moans that both girls were really getting off. Lisa's hips ground into me, and her breathing became heavy. Suddenly she let out a gasp, and her body stiffened. I continued kissing her face and neck as the orgasm washed over her. She lay on me, breathless, covered in sweat, her eyes closed. "God, I never felt anything like that before," she said after a few moments. "Just the first of many, my sweet little lover," I whispered to her. Brenda moved up and lay beside us, kissing me then Lisa. Our mouths were close, and the three of us kissed together. I could taste Lisa's juice on my sister's mouth; it was intoxicating. I had to have Lisa or I was going to explode. "Trade places, sweetheart," I said to her. She moved over, and let me up. As I worked my way down the couch, Brenda got up on her knees and straddled Lisa's face. She reached up and wrapped her arms around Brenda's legs, pulling my sister down to her eager mouth. At the same time, I lay between Lisa's legs and spread her little-girl cunt open with my fingers. Then I put my hands under her ass, pushed her legs up, and brought my mouth down on her. The sensation of tasting this delicious twelve-year-old was almost more than I could take. I ran my tongue up and down her slit, trying to taste her pussy and lick her ass all at once.I raised up to see Brenda, her head thrown back, eyes closed, her fingers caressing her nipples in a deep sexual trance as Lisa moved her tongue in and out of my sister. Lisa was totally ours now, her body completely overcome with the forbidden pleasures of girl sex. We climaxed together and finally lay back on the couch. Our bodies were covered in sweat, our faces and cunts dripping with girl-cum. The room was filled with the smell of wet pussies. After resting for a few minutes, Brenda said, "I'm going for a hot shower. Want to join me?" "Sounds nice," Lisa said. We each took her by the hand and headed up the stairs.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/9904.txt

Rass Senip

Tim, the Teenage MC

"I hope you two remember which piece goes to which helicopter," I said as I ran my eyes across the parts scattered all over the garage. "I can tell the difference," Holly said, walking up to me while wiping her hands on the borrowed white coveralls she had on. They were already streaked with oil, grease, and grime, so a little more didn't matter. What did matter was the fact that she had a smile on her face, and when she reached me, she wrapped her arms around me and gave me a nice kiss. "I take it you feel better?" I said, feeling the warm feeling she was emitting. "I always feel better after working on Beany, and Randy is a good listener. I'll get over you," she said. Then, with a grin, she added, "And then we'll see who's the miserable one." "Where is Randy?" I asked, not sensing him in the garage. "He went to get us something to eat," she said. "Aren't you hungry?" "Yeah. But I wanted to see if you would like to eat with me and meet Joey and my mom." "What about Tammy?" she said, with the last remains of her smile fading. "She's with my dad still. Don't give me that look. If you want her to be her old self again, you're going to have to let my dad do what he thinks best. I trust him," I said, not really sure if I meant it. "All right. But if I go eat with you, what about Randy? Can he eat with us too?" "Sure, if he wants," I said, reaching out to find his mind. "Uhm, Holly.. He kinda got side-tracked by one of his, er, roommates. I don't think he's gonna be making it to dinner." "Oh.. That's okay. He said he might be a while before he came back because of something he had to do first. Just let him know I'm going to go eat with you, okay?" "Okay. Done. Uhm, you do have your clothes on under that, don't you?" "Yes, of course I do," she said while struggling to undo the fasteners on her overalls. By the time she had taken her protective clothing off, I had finished walking around the garage inspecting the pairs of parts from the twin helicopters. While Holly still was feeling a bit hurt, she didn't let it show as we made our way to the dining room. We were about halfway there when our conversation hit a quiet spot, and for a few minutes, we walked in silence. I couldn't prevent my empathic senses from feeling every emotion running through her. All of a sudden, I felt the need to hug her, an instinct of some kind telling me it would be the best answer to her problems, or at least help her for the moment. She resisted me initially, complaining that she was hungry and wanted to eat. But once I had my arms around her, she took a deep breath, moved into the hug, and let me hold her while I kissed the side of her head and told her how special she was to my life. We only spent about ten minutes leaning against the wall before we broke apart and continued on our way. We were still holding hands when we arrived at the dining room. I only remember that fact because when she saw the image of my mom made out of light on the wall, Holly nearly ripped my arm out pulling me towards her and asking if I saw it. Once Holly got over her shock, introductions were made, and we sat down to eat. Joey and my mom had already started, and I had a distinct feeling Holly was rather upset that everyone was dressed. Or not upset, just disappointed. She was getting used to experiencing new things, and sitting down at the dinner table with a bunch of nudes would have definitely fit in that category. Dinner wasn't all that fun for me. Every time I talked to Joey or Holly, I found the other's mind wandering, not finding the conversation interesting. My mom helped out a lot, but it felt so strange going back and forth like that, unable to find some common ground. The three of us were heading for the TV room to watch a movie when Holly asked about Tammy again. "Tammy? Tammy who?" Joey said without any real interest. "Tim's dad is trying to turn her back to normal after some guy made her his toy," Holly answered before I could. "Hey, wait a second. I thought it was his sister you were looking for. Why didn't you tell..." She didn't finish her question when she noticed my pained expression, and just as it clicked in Joey's head, Holly realized she shouldn't have said it. "What does she mean you're looking for my sister?" Joey said with heavy emotion. "Sarah's dead, isn't she?" "Joey, we don't know anything for sure yet," I said as I avoided his eyes. "Just don't worry about it until you're back to nor..." "Fuck normal! Is Sarah dead or not? Tell me!" Joey demanded as his desperation and hope fought for control. "We don't know! Okay? We think she's still alive, but we don't know! Shit, Joey. You're not ready for this yet. You're shaking all over and..." I said as he started to wobble. Holly and I tried to get him to sit down, but he wouldn't have any part of it. Somehow, he managed to stay on his feet long enough to reach the TV room, then all three of us collapsed on the sofa. Despite my better judgment, Joey dragged the whole story out of the two of us. But after a while, I realized perhaps it wasn't such a bad thing. Joey started feeling like his old self to me. His attention was focused on the possibility that his sister was alive instead of the disturbing urges and memories that kept popping into his head. The death of his sister had been the first tragic event of his life, and his feelings about it ran much deeper than the things Steven had done to him. By the time Joey was satisfied that we had told him everything we knew, Holly was struggling to stay awake, and I was kind of tired myself. "Am I sleeping here tonight?" Holly asked after a yawn. "Where else would you sleep?" I said, laying my head against hers. "At home, Remember? What is it, a half an hour drive to the park?" "From here, it's more like an hour and a half, and your parent's place is almost two hours. I didn't think you'd want to leave without Tammy anyway." "Oh, I'm not planning on it," she said, yawning again. "I'm just trying to get you to tell me where my room is without having to ask you, that's all." "Ah," I said, grinning. "Well, that depends on whether or not you want to sleep alone or not." "I'm so tired I don't think it will matter. Let's try separate beds tonight so we both can get some sleep." "Okay," I said, not wanting to push the issue. Joey didn't even seem to notice when we got up and told him good night. I could feel his mind struggling to recall everything he could about his sister, and found he had made fairly good progress there. I was about to ask him if he had heard us, but decided otherwise and left quietly with Holly to show her to a guest room. After a gentle good night kiss with Holly, I walked back to my room alone, recalling the day's events with a sense of detachment. I was surprised to find Joey waiting for me in my room, but didn't have to ask what was on his mind. Despite the fact that both of us were tired, we spent half the night just talking in bed, Joey having found he could force his memories to come back if he tried to think about them. I must have drifted off while he was concentrating at one point, and woke to the familiar feeling of a twin's mouth on my hard cock. Joey was getting some of the same, but after the girls had brought us off, Joey and I both rolled onto our stomachs and went right back to sleep. We had learned a long time ago that was the only way to stop the twins from forcing us to get up when they wanted to, er, play. "Hey, sleepy head," Holly's voice said several hours later and disrupting a dream that I instantly forgot what it had been about. "Hey, yourself," I said automatically. I opened my eyes and looked at her a moment, then I had to rub my eyes before taking another look. "Uhm, why are you naked?" I blurted out. "I had a dream last night," she said, crawling in between me and the stirring Joey. "A dream?" I said suspiciously. "Don't worry.. I'm pretty sure it was my own dream and not someone else's," she said, cuddling up to me under the sheet. "I have a favor to ask you that you will probably think I'm nuts to ask. But I've thought about it for a couple of hours..." "What is it?" I said softly as she stroked my chest. "Tammy dared me to let you make me your slave for a day. I'm not willing to go for a whole day like that, but for a couple of hours wouldn't..." "A slave?" I said, sitting up. "Are you sure?"Pretty sure," she said, making me lay back down and climbing on top of me. "Tammy dared me, and it bothers me that she felt I would never go for it. You know I'm a daredevil, but Tammy's the one who always tried to play it safe. But now..." "Come on. You're not really letting her dare you into doing this, are you?" "No, of course not. It's just I don't understand her anymore. Your dad brought her to my room this morning really early. He said she's as normal as she's going to be. You were right about her. She's not a slave anymore, but she still wants to do it all the time." "I'm sorry, Holly. I hoped I was wrong. But you don't really believe you becoming a slave for an hour or two is going to fix her problems, do you?" "No, but... I want to help her, Tim. She's my best friend, and has been nearly all my life. I thought of killing myself when she stole Justin away from me. Then he dumped her, and we made up because of it. But ever since she went away to college, I've felt like there was a wall between us. Now that I know what the wall is, I can't think of any other way to get past it. Tim... She was talking about becoming a prostitute... I can't let that happen. But I have to understand what she went through to help her get back to normal. You'd do it for Joey, wouldn't you?" "Yeah, I guess I would," I said, looking Joey in the eyes for more than a moment. "But Holly.. I can't do it to you, not even to help Tammy. I'm not sure if this was a one-time thing or not, but.. When I tried to do it with Tammy yesterday, I felt how.. corrupted she was." "Corrupted?" Joey and Holly said at the same time. "Okay, not corrupted, but.. I don't know how else to describe it. She felt like she wasn't really alive.. no, that's not it either.. All I know is she felt WRONG to me. Unnatural. It scared the hell out of me," I said, fighting the creepy crawly feeling I had. "That's why my mom came to find me, yesterday," I added to Joey. Holly and I argued for several minutes, Joey wisely deciding to stay out of it and left to go eat breakfast. Holly can be as stubborn as a mule, but in this instance, I was more stubborn. I cheated in a sense by recreating how it felt and sharing it with her, but I have to give her credit. It didn't upset her like I thought it should have. In fact, I think what made her give up was seeing how rattled I was afterwards. Neither of us was in the mood to take advantage of us being in bed alone and already nude. And I could tell she wasn't comfortable about her nudity, especially when we crossed the hall to see Tammy. Tammy was sound asleep on top of the covers nude, an erotic yet innocent sight to behold. "The one thing I hate about going nude is you can't hide it when you get wood," I said to Holly after she gave me a look of frustration. "I think she and your dad were up all night," Holly said in a hushed voice. "I'd hate to wake her." "Then don't," I said, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to Tammy. "She looks so peaceful like this," I whispered as I stroked her soft cheek gently. Holly got down on her knees and laid her chin on the edge of the bed closest to Tammy's face. I felt the same feelings of worry and hope coming from Holly as I had been feeling for Joey and Suzi for the past month. I stopped caressing Tammy's cheek and for a few minutes and simply let my feelings for Holly build as I watched her. At some point, she noticed my stare and glanced up only to be captured in an empathic linking that I wasn't trying to form. She rose while I bent over, and in moments, we were in each other's arms locked in a heartfelt kiss. After several minutes of kissing and rubbing, Holly forced me on my back, which resulted in waking Tammy since she was immediately behind me. My first thought was that the fun was over, and I prepared to sit back up, but after Tammy's legs got out of the way, I found Holly's mouth on my right nipple, and moments later Tammy's on my left. My legs were still hanging over the edge of the bed, so once I got over the small shock that Holly was letting Tammy join in, I managed to wiggle out from under them long enough to get on the bed properly. The two girls had just finished whispering something when I looked over at them, and so I expected something interesting to happen. To my surprise, Holly got off the bed and bent over to give me a kiss on the forehead, then grabbed some clothes and hit the shower. My attention immediately focused on Tammy, who was licking her way up my left leg. "I have... a score to... settle with... you.." Tammy said huskily between licks. "You made me... miserable... while I... was your... fuck slave...and wouldn't... use me..." With that, she sucked both of my balls into her mouth and made me wiggle with a mixture of pleasure and discomfort. When her mouth finally released my family jewels, I was sweating all over and very nearly out of breath. I was just starting to gather my wits when her tongue ran across my crack, shattering any trace of organized thoughts in my mind. But then she began to use her mouth and tongue on my dick, I managed to regroup. I decided I wasn't going to be the guinea pig for her sexual liberation, and quickly figured out how to turn the tables on her. Tammy started to get desperate when she sensed my arousal was declining, and was going to try something else when I sat up and ran my magic fingers across her back and down to her hanging tits. Her mouth swallowed my cock and attempted to fight fire with fire, but each time I ran my magic touch across her back and tits, she lost momentum and finally let my hardon fall heavily from her gasping mouth. I easily had Tammy limply crawl on top of me as I laid down, and once I was comfortable, I realized how tired Tammy was from the night with my dad. I switched my magic touch from being sexually pleasurable to a more soothing pleasure, and enjoyed luring her to sleep on top of me while my hardon finally gave up and relaxed. I had just started to fall asleep myself when my stomach grumbled loudly and woke her up. "I can't believe you were able to do that," she said sleepily and moving up to my face. "What? Put you to sleep?" "No. Stop me from having sex with you. I just don't understand you. Every guy I dated in high school tried to start something with me, but I didn't want to do anything sexual back then. Now that I want to, you don't, even though you do with Holly. Don't you like how I look?" "It's not like that, believe me. I do want to, but... It just isn't for the right reasons, I guess. God, you are beautiful. Your body is perfect, your face doesn't have a pimple, and you smell wonderful. But I guess that isn't enough for me anymore." "I still don't understand," she said, sliding down a bit to rest her head on my chest. "Maybe that's why.. never mind." "Aren't you going to try and get me hard again or something?" I asked as I started stroking her long hair from her head to her shoulders. "I'm too tired to try. Besides, your dad said if you didn't give me what I wanted, I could just ask him. At least HE likes me." "I like you too. And Holly loves you like a sister, even though she'd never say so out loud. I think your ex-master confused you into thinking to like someone means you wanna have sex with them. You know that's not really true though, don't you?" "I guess," she said softly. "But I like having sex with people. It feels so much more real. The more sex I had with someone, the closer I felt to them. That's why I wanted Holly so bad." "Tammy, can I ask you a really personal question? I promise I won't tell anyone." "Only if I can ask you one afterwards," she replied with a small shiver. "Okay. That's fair enough," I said, laying the arm I had been stroking her hair with over her shoulders. I took a moment to reach down with my other hand to pull the sheet up over our legs and lower backs, then rested that hand below the first one and gave the top of her head a little kiss. "I've been wondering.. If you were so close to Holly, why did you steal Justin away from her?" She sighed, and I felt her struggle internally about telling me the truth or not. "I was... jealous, okay?" she finally blurted out. "Well, that part was obvious. But jealous of whom? I mean, for someone as good looking as you are, Justin sure lost interest in you awfully fast. You never really was interested in him, were you?" Tammy didn't move, but I could feel her emotions cascading inside her. I knew I was right, but wanted her to admit it to herself. I hoped it would help her realize a nonsexual relationship was just as good and strong as a sexual one. Better even. "She thought he was everything. I tried so hard to tell her how big of a jerk he was, but she wouldn't listen. Even when I found out he was still fucking that slut behind her back, she ignored me and told me I was just trying to steal him from her. So I did, and I had to lose my virginity in order to get her back as my friend. "It was supposed to be our summer together. We planned all year to spend it together and doing whatever we wanted before I went away to school. Then HE ruined it. He was such an asshole. I had to get him away from her.." Tammy sniffed a few times, then looked up at me and said, "Is that good enough for you?" "Yeah," I said, kissing her on the forehead. "That was more than enough. Your turn." She laid her head back the way it was before and took a nice deep breath that she let out as a sigh. "When we were in the motel room, and Holly was about to come out from her shower, why did you give me that kiss after I stopped licking you?" "Huh? Uhm, I don't know. It just felt like the right thing to do. Did you like it?" "I guess," she said, disappointed. "I mean, I had wanted a tongue fuck kiss." "But something about it made you ask. What was it?" "It's nothing really."It's just that I had never had someone kiss me like that without trying to start something. You're just not like the other guys. I'm trying to figure you out." "Tammy, could I try kissing you again?" "Why? You want to see if it feels different?" "Not exactly. I just want to kiss you. I like you." "I'll kiss you, but you're just doing it to make me feel...mmmm," she said as I pulled her up to my lips and began ravaging her mouth with my tongue. She responded as I expected, and soon we were fucking each other's mouths like two animals. It only took a few minutes before we had to break apart to catch our breath, and while we panted, I calmed my excitement down and started trying to catch her eyes with mine. "That was more like it," she said before trying to get my hardon back by rubbing her wet crotch over it. "Tammy, I want to give you another kiss first," I said, pulling her arms out from under her and, with a little help from my telepathy, held her crotch still. We struggled for nearly two minutes before she gave up in a huff and stopped trying to invade my mouth with her tongue. I think it must have taken me another good five minutes before she finally relaxed and let herself enjoy my gentle kisses and rubbing. When she started to respond with the same gentle loving kisses, I knew I had accomplished what I had set out to do. So when her lips returned to mine after taking a small breather, I parted them and waited to see what she would try. I was disappointed in her when her tongue slipped through, but I found I had judged her too soon when all she did was wiggle her tongue like she was teasing me, then continued her slow and steady tongue-less kissing. I instantly returned to mine, and didn't stop until she did. "Well?" I said after she had moved back down so her head was back on my chest. "Well, what?" she said, giving my chest a kiss. "Which kind of kissing did you like better? The tongue fucking kind? Or the other." "The tongue fucking kind," she said incidentally. "Oh," I said, not hiding my disappointment. "Gotcha," she said looking up at me smiling. "You witch," I said with a laugh. "You're as bad as Holly." At the mention of Holly's name, Tammy suddenly became uncomfortable. "What's the matter?" I asked, kissing her head again. "I just forgot, that's all." "Forgot what?" "Forgot you were already taken. By Holly." "Tammy, I'm not taken by Holly. I love her, but... Ah hell. I love a lot of people. And I've made love to many of them too. I guess what I'm trying to say is, just because Holly and I love each other doesn't mean I have to stop loving her to love you. I think Holly knows that now. Otherwise, why would she leave you here with me?" "So she could ask your dad to make her his slave for a couple of hours," she said softly. "She WHAT!" I said, reaching out to find Holly's mind. "Thank God," I sighed moments later. "My dad wouldn't do it. I guess I've been wrong about him in the past." "Tim.. I think I am falling in love for you, but I don't want to. Like you said, I've never found someone on my own to love. You're not going to give Holly up for me, and I don't want you to, but in the end that's the only thing I'd be happy with. So.. I know this sounds kind of rude, but.. unless you want to fuck me, go away, please? Right now all I think I can handle is having mindless sex with guys, not falling in love with them." "Uhm.. Okay, if that's really how you feel," I said bewildered. My stomach made another loud growl which prompted her to roll off me and curl up under the sheet like she was going to go to sleep. I knew she was right, but at the same time I felt it would be wrong not to share my feelings with her. So I crawled over to her and said to her face, "I love you too, Tammy. If you can't handle that, I'm sorry. Tonight, I'm going to come in here and make love to you. And then I'm going to go and do the same to Holly. I don't have to play by your rules, understand? I can love as many people as I want, and you can only stop me from sharing it with you, not having it for you." And with that I kissed her cheek and left to go eat.She led me back to my car, then waited on the passenger side for me to unlock it without any explanation. It wasn't until we were both in the car with the doors shut that she finally said, "Frank and I don't see eye to eye about everything that's happened. Suzi's keeping him busy in the basement for a few minutes, but we need to go somewhere else and have a heart-to-heart talk. I tried to catch you before you left, but they said I had just missed you." I didn't say anything as I started my car and pulled out, trying to think of some place close with air conditioning where we could talk privately. I quickly drew a blank, so I asked her, and then nearly had a wreck from her response. "Excuse me? Did you say Becker's Grove?" "Unless you have a better place in mind. At this time of the day, there won't be anyone there, it's shady, and there's always a breeze. Have you ever been up there?" "Uhm, yeah. Suzi, ehm, took me there once," I said, recalling the late evening Suzi had suggested going there. "Good. Then I don't have to tell you the way," she said with a strange sound of confidence. Several times I found her "checking me out," so to speak, and there were a few other things she did that suggested she was coming on to me. But my empathic senses only reported feelings of caution and indecision from her, and I was confused as to what was going on. She obviously was testing me, but why in this way? Becker's Grove was one of those scenic spots where teens go to park and make out after dark. I was sure she knew this, and as I pulled under one of the bigger oaks lining the drive and shut off the engine, she showed the first sign of her true intentions by nervously checking to see if the door was still unlocked in case she had to get out in a hurry. "Mrs. Aston, what's going on?" "Call me Betty," she said, turning towards me and faking a smile. "Uhm.. Okay, Betty... Why are you trying to get me to make a pass at you?" Even though she wasn't prepared for such a direct question, Betty quickly responded with, "Maybe I like you. Like Suzi does." "But you don't like me like that. You're not interested in me. You're testing me, but I don't understand what for or why." She sighed with a mixture of disappointment and relief, then said, "Well, if you read my mind for that much, why didn't you just take it all?" "I didn't. I mean, I didn't read your mind. You should have been giving off feelings of arousal, desire, love, or something, but you weren't. Just... concern." Betty stared at me for several moments, and I was tempted to let the empathic connection form that I was having to hold back. But Betty looked away and suggested we go for a walk, trying to give her more time to filter through the sea of indecision she felt stretched before her. We walked for a few minutes in silence, then finally she said, "You know, I have to admit that there has been one good thing come from all of this. I haven't felt this close to Suzi since she was just a little girl. I've missed how she used to tell me everything that was important to her, everything that she had done at school or playing at a friend's house. I suppose it seems rather selfish to you." "No. Not really," I said. "If Suzi had stopped talking to me about what she likes and doesn't like, I'd start feeling like she didn't trust me, and that would hurt pretty bad." She didn't say anything at first, but I had felt her mild shock after hitting what she had been feeling right on the nose. Her emotions flickered back and forth between trust and distrust, obviously from her uncertainty whether I had honestly answered my own feelings, or I had just taken it from her own thoughts and had said what she hoped I would say. She stopped and turned to me, then while looking me in the eye, she said, "If Suzi didn't care for you as much as she does, we would have moved as far away from here as we could have, and you would have never seen her or us again. "But Suzi's has been telling us everything as she remembers it, and even though Frank thinks you've done something to her... You have your gifts, and I have mine. I usually can tell what a person is like when I first meet them. I don't believe you would ever do anything to Suzi. It just doesn't feel like you. That's why I've wanted to believe what Suzi tells us. "But I can't ignore the other possibilities either. After seeing you controlling Suzi's body at the airport, it all just hit me that you really can do the things your mother said. Part of me is terrified of you. The only reason I keep myself from running is because I love my daughter and she loves you." "I love her too," I said softly. "Thanks for giving me this chance to prove it to you." "That's what we have to figure out, Tim. How do you prove to me and Frank that this isn't all just a fantasy you've dreamed up and made us believe in?" "How? I don't know!? I mean, if you already feel this way, how can I? No matter what I did, you would sooner or later wonder if it had just been an illusion." She sighed, then said, "I hadn't thought of that." "What are you going to do?" I said when she turned away to gaze out into the peaceful valley before us. "I'll do whatever you think is best. Just please don't take her from me. I just got her and Joey back." "Well, for right now, even Frank sees she needs you, and that's why he's letting you come to dinner. I can't promise you anything, but let me talk to him and see if we can think of something." "Thanks. Thanks a lot, Mrs. Aston," I said, giving her a peck on the cheek. "You don't know how much this means to me." "Oh, I think I do. You're not the only person to be in love, you know," she said with a smile. We went back to her house, and Betty went in first to check on things a few minutes before I got out of my car. This time when I approached the front door, Suzi was the one who opened it before I could knock, but she didn't say anything. She didn't have to. The only thing in our minds was to touch each other again. I don't even remember her moving from the door. She just was suddenly in my arms and I was in hers, our lips searching for the other's as we held each other tighter and tighter. Our lips found the other's and immediately embraced in their own way. Our kissing tapered off very quickly, and we stood there just rubbing our arms up and down the other's body, taking in lungfuls of each other's scent, filling my being with the contentment of holding her and feeling her hold me. The wonderful moment of happiness was brought to an end with a voice saying, "Who left the front door open?!? Oh.." I looked up to find Jason looking at us with a wry grin on his face before it disappeared behind the closing door. Even though I knew he had gone back to the kitchen, we didn't resume our hug, and after a minute we went inside. "Pete's here to meet a friend of Jason's from Central State," Suzi said in a hushed tone. "I've been going nuts trying to keep myself from ripping my clothes off and landing one of them." "Huh?" I said, feeling she meant every word of it. "Why? I mean, beyond the obvious reason." "This is why," she whispered as we entered the kitchen. My eyes probably were bulging out of their sockets finding both Jason and Pete had put on a considerable amount of muscle tone, especially Jason. In fact, if it wasn't for his face, I would have never known it was Jason from all of the bulk of muscles. After getting over the shock of Jason's new body, I began noticing other differences. His skin had a healthy shine to it which complemented his perfect tan and incredible muscles. But the greatest change was the fact he was wearing a diamond stud earring. Jason used to rip on guys who got their ear pierced. It was so strange to see him with one. Suzi's smile told me she was enjoying my shock and surprise. And it didn't disappear after I said hey to Jason and Pete. Not only was Jason's physical appearance different, but his demeanor had changed too. While Jason had never been truly unfriendly towards me, I was a bit surprised by his warm, white, toothy smiles, the friendly feelings he emitted while speaking to me, and the overwhelming good-natured attitude he portrayed. Last time I had seen Jason, I had to resist altering him so I wouldn't have to put up with his overbearing and almost bully-like attitude. Immediately I was suspicious of tampering, and even though I thought this was a hell of an improvement, I began scanning Jason's mind for another telepath's work. After finding none of the obvious mental commands, I started back-tracking through Jason's experiences concerning his attitude towards people he considered inferior. I had just started to consider the possibility that Jason hadn't been altered when the real reason for his transformation walked into the kitchen. "Oh," Jason said, noticing the even larger, muscled guy standing in the doorway with his pearly white teeth lighting up the room in a smile. "Tim, this is Ron. Ron, this is Tim Brandton, Suzi's boyfriend." Charisma was literally pouring out of this guy. As I shook his hand and remarked how incredibly gentle yet solid his grip was, I found myself already echoing his warm smile and friendly attitude, and I realized that given time I'd probably pick up some of his mannerisms just like Jason had. We spent around a half an hour talking about weightlifting before Suzi's mom shooed us out of the kitchen to start making dinner. Suzi managed to get me away from their intriguing stories of working out at college at that point, but I was still thinking about how awesome it would be to have muscles like Ron when I found myself sitting on Suzi's bed while Suzi closed the door and locked it.I was in the process of switching states of mind as Suzi walked up to me, slipping both straps of her sleeveless top off her shoulders and seductively uncovering her breasts before climbing on my lap and pressing her cool, wet lips against mine. My mind spun in confusion, finding myself incredibly turned on by her actions and the arousal she was emitting, while disturbed by the suddenness and speed at which she was going. But within each kiss, there was the undeniable feeling it was the real her, and that she was in fact holding back as much as she could to prolong the love and passion flowing out of her. So as her hands lifted my shirt over my head, I complied with her wishes and began working my hands over her topless body, letting the passion build and take over. Our lips parted for a time, and while my hands stroked her hot flesh even faster, Suzi closed her eyes and rose up on her knees, pressing her tattooed, darkened nipples against my mouth. As I began my sucking and licking of her mammaries, my stroking hands worked lower and lower until they were lowering her shorts and panties from the inside. That was the point where I started sensing that we were playing out a fantasy of hers - one that she had been forming over the past couple of days while coping to control the powerful sexual desires and needs she still had. If I had any concerns about stopping, they were completely washed away by the desire and lust Suzi was pouring into my empathic senses. As her lips found mine again and we somehow managed to pull my shorts off without her getting off me, I found myself forming a two-way connection without thinking about it. From that point on, the only thing in our minds was fulfilling her vision of her once again becoming a human-sized cock. And it happened so fast... I only remember seeing her head tilt back, her eyes squeezed shut while her lips parted to prepare for our orgasm. Suzi's own lust was driving me to comply with her perverted fantasy, and thus driving her to complete it since we were linked. As my dick and balls were filled with the pleasure of an ejaculation, our minds finished the transformation. As I watched the liquid spew from her lips, my empathic senses caused a transformation of their own. Or more precisely, it distorted the image of my Suzi's face and body so it darkened and mutated, corrupting her beauty, dulling the golden light that was always shining from within her, and forming the image of a black-headed, white-necked cock that was spewing its sperm from its dark lips. I felt it all over again - the corruption, the unnatural, unholy, undead-like feeling I had felt from Tammy and the others at the mansion. But this was ten times worse because it was coming from Suzi, my Suzi, and I had been the one to release the sickness or whatever you call it on to her. My eyes couldn't seem to see anything but the corrupted vision of Suzi's penis-like face. I struggled weakly to crawl from under her sagging body, and as soon as I was halfway out from under her, I couldn't help but start whimpering and shuddering, seeing and feeling how her entire body was softening. Suzi didn't even realize something was wrong until her father rammed the door open, and then she only mildly took interest at the confusion and anger showing on his face. The confusion grew even greater when her father realized the whimpers he had heard and had responded to were mine and not his daughter's. But I didn't see any of this, for my attention was centered on the horror of what I saw moving towards me, speaking in Suzi's voice, telling me to do it some more. When I felt it touch me, its clammy yet hot skin sent a pulse of terror through me, zapping all my strength and destroying any chance of my escape. I don't remember feeling Frank's hand grasping my arm and hair, but one moment I was crying and begging it not to get any closer, the next I was flying through the air before getting a rug burn on the right side of my face. I was senseless for a few moments, but then I started to realize the very angry voice was yelling at me, telling me to get the hell out of his house and never come back. When I was able to work my legs and arms enough to get up, I shakily started to try and explain what happened until Suzi lurched lustfully at me. I was filled with panic and terror by the way the features of her human face and body had seemingly retained the look of the penis I had seen. I backed out of the room while blathering "I'm sorry..." over and over, then ran right into Jason and his mom when I turned to flee. I was still terrified as I scrambled to climb over the two, and I became even more frantic to leave as they attempted to grab me with their hands. The only thing running through my mind was getting out of that house, and it didn't make any difference that I was nude and it was broad daylight outside. After I shook off someone's hand holding my left foot, I flew down the hall, went right under Pete's outstretched arms, and set a direct course for the front door which was within my sight. Just as I was about to reach out to grab the doorknob, a massive arm stretched out in front of me from practically nowhere and stopped me cold in my tracks. I struggled to escape from Ron's grasp for only a few seconds before I felt it again - an unnatural corruption of his being. It was deep within him, very deep. In fact, it was in complete control of him, just like... Before I could complete my thought, the terror struck me again. Ron was even worse than Suzi, Tammy, or anyone else I had felt it from. It was like an evil life form had implanted itself inside his mind and was secretly guiding him to do the evil it required done. It could take control of his entire personality or just alter parts of it and his perception. And right now, it was trying to tell me something. My cry of fear startled the muscle-bound wall enough that Ron let his grip slip. But then I found myself cornered by him, Pete, and Jason in the small sitting room, and after I had felt how the cold evil had spread to both Pete and Jason to some extent, I curled myself up in a protective ball in the corner to await my fate. For some reason, I never once considered using my telepathic abilities to aid my escape. I suppose I was so disturbed by how everyone felt altered and corrupted, I couldn't bear to take a chance inflicting more of it, even if it only meant controlling a body part or something else unrelated to their thoughts. As I crouched there with my knees up to my face and my arms covering the rest of my head, I felt the evil slowly fade from my senses. I was already calming down when Suzi's mom crouched beside me and started telling me everything was okay and that I was safe. After I looked up, I couldn't help but open my arms and bury my face in her shoulder. While she held me and stroked the hair on the back of my head, she started asking me what was wrong and what had happened. Feeling the eyes of the three guys upon us, I whispered shakily into her ear, "I can't say it out loud. I'm going to talk to you in your head, okay? Don't get upset." I felt her stiffen a moment, then she took a hold of my shoulders and pushed me away to look me in the face. I guess I looked sincere enough that she decided to trust me because after studying my face a few moments, she ordered the three to leave the room. "Now, what's going on?" she said with a stern yet soft voice. "What happened in there, and why are you afraid of the boys hearing?" "I... <sigh> I can't tell you with words. It's too complicated. Can't I just show you?" "Fine. Show me. But I don't want... Oh!.." she said as I had immediately formed a one-way and was busy downloading what had happened through her conscious mind. "Stop... Please?" she said just before I reached the part where I was stopped by Ron. "But there's just this little bit more.." I said, opening my eyes to find her own filled with tears. "I'm sorry.. I didn't mean to scare you or.." "I know you didn't.." she said, wiping her eyes. "Is there anything you can do to undo what she made you do to her?" "She made me do to her?" I said, not understanding. "Yes. Oh, Timothy.. Surely you realize she was controlling you, not the other way around. You were as helpless as... as..." she turned her head away from me to recompose herself, then noticed a shadow moving away from the entrance of the room. Betty looked to see if I had seen it, and after I nodded my head, she indicated for me to communicate through my telepathy. "That was Ron," I thought to her. "He's not what he seems to be. Oh.. You can talk back by just thinking it to me.... But you have to direct it to me because I don't listen to everything you're thinking. That would be rude, not to mention very confusing." "This... is... very unnerving," she thought back with some difficulty. "You're doing fine. I'm sorry for messing everything up tonight. I guess Fran.. I mean, I don't think Mr. Aster will be giving me another chance after this." "I wouldn't count on that.... Tim, what is Ron? What did you mean he wasn't what he seemed?" "I mean he's.. Well, I guess he's like Tammy. Actually, he's a lot like Tammy. Oh, sorry. Tammy is the girl I brought back with me who this guy we're looking for made her his slave. This guy is really good at keeping himself from being discovered. I mean, when I first met Ron, I scanned his mind for any tampering, and I didn't find any. There's this other personality hiding behind the real Ron's personality that has complete control over what Ron thinks and does. At least that's what it felt like." "What about Jason? And Pete?" "I don't know. I felt something from them, but it wasn't... Oh.. I know what it is. Ron's personality is contagious. The real Ron, not the other one. Jason has changed so much in the past six months that it felt unnatural.""But I don't feel anything... Holy shit.. Sorry.. I didn't mean to cuss in." "What did you find? Has Jason been.. tampered with?" "Not exactly.. I'm not sure if you want to know this from me or not. I mean, it isn't exactly..." "Tim, after everything I've had to accept and deal with since Suzi was taken from us, I doubt anything could upset me worse than not knowing." "You sure? Okay.. Uhm, you know how, like, Joey and I have fooled around.. Well, it seems Ron has been kind of working Jason towards trying some things like that with him." "You mean, Ron is turning Jason gay?" "No! I mean, not gay gay. Bi gay, maybe. Hang on. Frank just told Jason to get you." "I better go then. You'll be okay?" "Yeah," I said out loud. "I'm all right now. Thanks." Betty gave me a peck on the forehead, then got up to leave just as Jason called from down the hall. She answered him, then before she walked around the corner, she said, "Tim, will you please put your clothes back on? I'm starting to get used to seeing you like that." "What did she mean by that?" I said to myself a few moments later. I got up and was about to comply with her suggestion when I realized my clothes were in Suzi's room, and I wasn't about to go in there. Before I could decide what to do, Jason came back with my clothes and held them out for me. But when I tried to take them, he shoved them into my face before knocking me down, rolling me onto my stomach, and pinning my right arm behind my back before I even knew what was going on. "OWWW!" I said as he pulled my arm back further than what was comfortable. "What the FUCK is WRONG WITH YOU!" "I want to know what the hell you did to my sister, you fucking manipulating bastard! I don't know how you convinced my mom you're innocent, but you can't fool me! So confess, or I'll twist your fucking arm off!" "AAAARRRRWWWW" I cried as he turned up the pressure even more. I was just forming the command to make him release me when Ron's voice boomed, "Jason, let him go!" "Stay out of this, Ron!" Jason said with some anger. "I said let him go," Ron breathed as he took hold of Jason's wrist and applied pressure to the fleshy spot just below it. Jason's hand opened an instant later, and I gasped as my arm suddenly swung away from him, causing even more pain than Jason had been causing alone. "You faggot!" Jason spewed at Ron. "You have no right to interfere! He's done something to her, and I have to get him to admit it!" Ron took Jason by the shoulders and peered directly into his eyes saying, "And what could he have done? Drugged her? Hypnotized her? Brainwash her?" "Yes! Exactly!" "Think about it, Jason! Why would he do it and then freak out like that? Why do it while everyone was here? Why not wait until he was alone with her all day? You saw the look on his face. He was scared shitless! You said your sister had been brainwashed by someone trying to get Tim. Doesn't it make any sense that Tim accidentally triggered something that made her go nuts like that?" Jason had lost all his rigidity, his shoulders had sank, and his head started to hang forward in guilt. "I'm sorry, Ron. You're right. I was over reacting again, and I'm sorry." "That's all right, Jason," Ron said warmly. "I know you couldn't help it." "I still shouldn't have called you a faggot. I'm really sorry. You're the best friend I've ever had, and I... I... I'm sorry..." As Ron moved to give him a hug, I realized I was staring and diverted my attention by gathering my clothes and putting them on. I was just finished when we all heard yelling. The three of us raced to the source, which turned out to be Suzi's parents arguing while Pete was trying to get Suzi dressed. I shuddered when I saw her face, finding it still resembled the head of the penis she had envisioned becoming. Pete wasn't getting anywhere, so Jason decided to go help him while Frank and Betty continued arguing what they believed had caused her relapse. "TIMMM" Suzi moaned when she noticed me at the door. I felt Frank's anger hit me like a slap on my face, and it was followed by his voice blasting, "I thought I told you to get the fuck out of my house!" "Frank! Stop it! He was as much of a victim as Suzi was!" Betty said, grabbing his shoulder when he began to move towards me. "TIM! TIMMMY!" Suzi cried desperately as she tried to wiggle free of her brother and cousin. "Oh, Suzi..." I said, my eyes filling with tears. "Please don't act like this..." "She's only acting like that because you're making her! GET OUT BEFORE I CALL THE POLICE!" Frank barked. "TIMMY!" "Mom! I think she just peed all over me!" Jason cried. "Well what am I supposed to do about it?!" she shouted. "Hey! Don't wipe it on me!" Pete exclaimed. "I'm sorry! I wish it had been me not her!" I cried, stumbling sideways then falling forward on my hands and knees. As everyone in the room started to yell at everyone else, I covered my ears with my hands and shut my eyes, not wanting to witness Suzi's family fall apart. But then Ron's voice boomed out, "Shut the FUCK UP all of you!" You could have heard a pin drop from the kitchen it was so quiet. I think even Ron was surprised at how well it had worked. "Sorry, but you were all getting hysterical, and that wasn't going to help anyone. I may not know any details of what caused all this, but from what I have seen today and heard from Jason in the past, it wasn't anyone's fault but the guy who did this to her. But if you want to blame someone for something, blame me." "You?" Suzi's parents both said. Ron sighed, then said, "Right after lunch, Suzi begged me to, excuse my language, 'fuck her ass until I could fuck no more.' I accepted, but after the third time I realized she was only getting more desperate. I'm afraid I told her she would have to wait for her boyfriend to get any more. I'm sorry. I supposed I've gotten used to girls offering themselves to me like that. If she hadn't been so.. desperate, I wouldn't have accepted her offer. I thought I could satisfy her..." "TIMM... Satisfy ME!" Suzi sobbed. "Please Timmy? I got to have it! I don't want anything else!" "Oh, give it a rest, Suzi," Frank said exasperated. "OW! Suzi! Don't bite me again or I'll..." Jason warned. "Timmy! Help me!" Suzi cried. I sighed a heavy sigh, then wearily got on my feet and walked up to her. She frantically reached for my crotch while Pete and Jason held her back, waiting for either Frank or Betty to tell them what to do. "Suzi, look at me, please? Look at my face?" I begged. When her eyes finally glanced up, I captured them with mine and pushed hard against the inrush of desire and lust which followed. "Please, Suzi, fight this. You remember what happened after you, me and Joey had our first three way? Remember how I made Joey want to suck my cock because he didn't believe I could? Remember? He almost gave in to it. He almost let himself lose control forever. But he didn't. He resisted the temptation. "Remember how my mom wanted me to do something like that to you to make sure you were able to resist that kind of temptation? I'm sorry, Suzi. I couldn't do it then, and now you're letting it control you. Fight it, my love. Don't let it win. I know you're stronger than both Joey and I put together. I don't want to lose you. Please, don't let it control you any more because I won't be able to see you until you have it beat. I love you. We love you. Remember nothing else matters more than that." She had stopped struggling, and didn't make any sudden movements as I slowly leaned forward intending to kiss her forehead like her mom had done to me earlier. But I found it impossible to pull my lips from her skin, knowing that I wouldn't be able to kiss her again for a long time. Somehow, I gathered some last remaining strength and straightened up, then allowed myself only a fleeting glance at her tear-streaked face before turning and walking straight out of the room. I actually made it to the family room before I heard her explosion of sobs, and I wouldn't have made it any further if Ron hadn't been right there to help me. With Ron's calming words of encouragement, I didn't break down into my own tears until I was halfway to my car. At that point, nothing could stop my sorrow, and I guess Ron knew it since at the first sob he wrapped his arms around me and carried me as I cried into his shoulder. By the time I was sobering up, Ron had gone from being a possible enemy to someone I couldn't help but trust. I mean, I had enough sense to leave out anything dealing with my telepathy and empathic abilities, but Ron was very easy to talk to, and as he drove me home in my own car, I began telling him about Suzi, Joey, and I. I was explaining my feelings for Joey when I felt Ron's other personality suddenly take charge. I managed to keep talking after only a slight hesitation, and frantically tried to scan his mind to find out what I could. All I got was a few thoughts of licking every inch of my body before it disappeared from my mind, leaving a slightly more talkative and revealing Ron behind. By the time we reached the driveway of the North mansion, Ron had admitted he was bisexual, and had asked to meet Joey and perhaps tell us about his own experiences. It took some doing, but I managed to keep Ron from seeing anything suspicious while we were heading to the gym where Joey was. As we approached the gym, I felt his hidden persona take charge for a moment, then found him working out a suitable way to test to see if we were interested in weight lifting in the nude. Joey was already pumping iron when we got there, and I was surprised to find he had been there since before we had pulled into the grounds. Joey's shirtless body was shiny with sweat, making Ron shift in arousal as he took it in.I decided to take a risk and made Ron have to go take a leak and a dump. While Ron was in the john, I filled Joey in and discovered he was very interested in hearing Ron's story. In fact, I felt a new sense of commitment in his interests. Joey had been formulating plans and trying to piece together some of the missing information he needed. By the time Ron came back, Joey and I were share-linked and had a two-way open while Joey spotted for me. Ron simply took off his shirt and selected a weight that was nearly ten times what I was bench-pressing. He settled into the bench next to me, then asked Joey what his max was. The topic quickly turned to the subject of building fat-less muscles, and Ron pumped continuously as the conversation moved to more personal matters. Ron had me admit in front of Joey what I had said about him in the car, and then Ron astonished us both by revealing he was in love with Jason. "I've never met someone who wanted to act like me like he does. At first, Jason was just like everyone else, smiling without realizing it, warming up to people around him, and things like that. If you haven't noticed, I have an effect on people. I can't help it, really. One time I tried to dampen my effects on everyone else, but everyone I knew thought I was depressed and wouldn't leave me alone until I stopped. "Right after Christmas break, I started noticing Jason was paying a lot more attention to me than guys usually do. I first thought he was just interested in me sexually, but when I tried to make a move, I scared him off, so I knew it wasn't that. "About a month later, I noticed Jason kept showing up at the weight room whenever I was there and seemed to mirror my own routine. I kept catching him studying me, not my body, but my body language I guess. I wasn't sure if I liked it or not, but I kept my distance to see what happened. "I'll never forget it when I found him talking to three knockout blondes. He wasn't acting like himself, and I couldn't figure out what he was doing until I recognized my "Wouldn't you like to fuck me," smile he was giving the middle one. "I was flabbergasted, angry, yet honored. The next day when I saw him getting ready for his first set, I went over and offered to spot for him. He hesitated, so I flashed him a smile, and as always he smiled back and accepted. "It took two weeks before he admitted to me he had been trying to learn my 'tricks' so he could pick up girls easier. But said he didn't want to do it for that reason anymore. He told me he thought I was the most perfect person he ever had met, and he wanted to learn more than just my pick-up lines from me. "I couldn't help but like him after that. I mean, he suddenly was like my little brother, asking me how and why I did things, accepting everything I said, always studying how I talked and acted with others. And when he asked me what I was doing during spring break, I knew he wanted to go with me no matter where I was going. "Telling him he couldn't go with me was the hardest thing I had done in a long time. He got really upset, and then got angry like he did earlier today. He said some things that hurt, and didn't speak to me for nearly two weeks afterwards. "When I saw him working out in the south campus's weight room, I couldn't bear it any longer and went in prepared to give him my best smiles. But he surprised me by smiling at me first, and at that point I knew I loved him. "Before Jason, the only person who could make me feel good just by smiling at me was my mom. She has it too, and you should have seen us when I tried leaving home to go to college for the first time. I was supposed to go a week and a half before classes started. I didn't get there until the day before. "Anyway, Jason was using it on me without either of us knowing it, and I guess I was using it on him too. We were on our way to the weight room the weekend before finals when I felt a little playful and we raced to the weight room. "We ended up collapsed on the grass outside the back entrance, gasping for breath and laughing like a couple of kids. But when I saw the look in his eyes, I knew he was feeling the same thing for me, even if he was afraid to admit it. "I saw that same look in his eyes twice more that evening, and the last one was in my room at the frat house. He almost panicked when I kissed him, and even though he let me finish the kiss, Jason made it really clear he wasn't ready for that. "I couldn't believe it when he called me the next day and said his family was in danger and he had to go into hiding for a while. I told him before he hung up that I loved him, and he tried to say it, but I told him it was okay. He didn't have to. "When he called me up and asked to stay with me for a while three weeks ago, I cried I was so happy. I nearly cried again when he got to my house and I realized some of my whatever you call it had worn off. "But by the end of the week, he kissed me, and ever since then he's been the most important person in my life. Jason's not ready to do anything more than kiss, and I don't want him to do anything he isn't comfortable with. I don't have a virginity left to offer him, but if he ever reaches the point he wants me to take his, I'll probably die from happiness." Joey and I had switched twice while he had been talking, but Ron had been pumping the whole time, never slowing down or letting any strain into his voice. Joey peeked to find that he was actually pushing his limit, but Ron was driven with a suspicious sense of lust to go as long as he could. While Joey had been checking his conscious mind out and talking about what Jason had been like before, I was struggling with my own limit, finding I had gone too long without working the weights. Joey was in a little better shape than I was, but still he was puny compared to Jason or Ron. "Whoa.. You have your nipple pierced?" Joey suddenly said, noticing the tiny stone. "He does?" I said, relieved to find an excuse to stop and sit up. "Yeah.. My fraternity is very picky about its members. This is the last ritual any new member has to endure, and basically if you go through with it, you're in. I got in my freshman year, and I'm helping Jason get ready for the rituals. I'll probably get Pete in by Thanksgiving since he already fits most of the requirements." There it was. Something about the fraternity was the key to his hidden personality. Both Joey and I were busily going through his mind, digging for information, finding that for the most part, Ron didn't seem to remember the rituals or what he did for a good third of his day while at the frat house. It felt just like what had been done to Tammy, and when I shared that with Joey, I felt him make a decision that he wasn't looking forward to implementing. "Well, I've told you guys all about me, and Tim pretty much told me his side. So, Joey.. You going to share?" "Share what?" Joey said, coming out of his deep thinking. "Oh.. Uhm, well... I would if I could remember them. I'm sorta not myself yet." "Joey was brainwashed by the same guy who had messed up Suzi," I added. "So far he hasn't had as hard of a time as Suzi has. I'm hoping it will stay like that. I don't know how I'd handle losing him too." "What do you mean losing me? What happened with Suzi? I didn't think you'd be back until late." "Well fellas, I guess I'll be calling a cab. Looks like you have some talking to do," Ron said, finally quitting and sitting up. "You don't need to call a cab," I said instantly. "You can ride back in one of my dad's limos. You look like you could use a shower first though." "I don't want to put you through any trouble," Ron said, flashing his smile that made you want to give him your wallet and watch. "Hey, you helped me a lot. It's the least I can do," I said, going over to the gym's phone and calling the garage and housekeeping. "Okay. It's all set. The showers are right through that door, and the driver will meet you right outside the gym to take you to the limo. My mom wants to know what's going on with Suzi, so if it's okay with you, we'll see you later. Okay?" "Oh.. Alright," he said, obviously disappointed that we weren't going to shower with him. Joey played along since he knew my mom was with my dad in the other end of the mansion and didn't have a clue that I was home. We both were keeping our thoughts to ourselves for the most part, not wanting to propose what our plans were until we had enough information to do so. We were out the gym door when I thought of something I wanted to ask Ron, and asked Joey to wait out there just so Ron would think I wasn't going to tell Joey everything. Ron was walking to the door leading to the showers, shorts already off and cock in hand. I almost turned back, but Ron noticed me and turned around to show off his incredible body to me. "You wanted to ask me something?" he said with a smile that would melt a ton of frozen butter. "Uhm, yeah," I said, ripping my eyes off his body and forcing them to stay planted on his face. "Why did you lie about having sex with Suzi?" "Who said I didn't?" "I'd know if Suzi had been fucked by someone with a cock that big before I did. So why did you tell them you did? You didn't have to save my neck." "I wasn't just helping you, you know. I was helping Suzi too. She did ask me to fuck her ass. But you're right. I didn't. But I would have if I hadn't sworn an oath not to have sex like that. So in a sense, I did, even if I didn't." "Oh.." I said, keeping my attention on his face while he continued to stroke his hard cock. "Well, I gotta go. Thanks again, Ron. You're a really nice guy." I joined Joey outside the gym, and I saw his look of amusement as I let out the breath of air I had been holding. "Where to?" Joey said when I started down the hall with him. "Tammy's room. I want to put her in the link while we scan Ron's mind again."She might be able to feel something out we can't." "Good idea. Uhm, you going to tell me what happened with Suzi?" "Not right now. We don't have the time. Shit, Joey. You see what he's thinking?" "Yeah.. I'm not sure if I should be seeing this, but I can't risk missing something important." "Wow. I would have thought that thing in his nipple would hurt fiddling with it like that. But it actually feels kinda good." "How certain are you about Tammy and Ron having both been programmed by the same guy?" "I'm not certain at all, Joey. They don't go to the same school and they're obviously have been programmed to seek out completely different types of people. I don't want to risk making this guy run and hide if another one of his slaves goes missing or he finds one altered by us. I'm not sure if we can find out anything this way, but.. Whoa! Did you feel that?" "Yeah!" Joey said as we both madly began scanning his mind for anything the hidden personality was letting come to the surface as it did its thing. All we got was a few vague images of a few of his frat brothers having sex and the information that Ron had decided that after Jason and Pete were initiated, they would finish evaluating Joey and I and recruit us if we passed. Ron's hidden persona was disappointed that he wouldn't be around to pierce our nipples himself since he was graduating this coming summer. As Ron's normal persona was restored, Joey and I felt all traces of what we were looking for submerge beneath it. Ron's thoughts focused on getting back to Suzi's house and seeing if Jason was in the mood for some tenderness. Tammy was a great help in pointing out that Ron seemed to have a fixed routine, and he always seemed to have a blank spot at three different times during his routine. She couldn't be sure, but Tammy thought Ron had been programmed the same way she had, mostly because Ron didn't have a clue he wasn't truly in control of himself. By the time Ron had left in the limo, I was pretty tired from all of my probing, but Joey didn't let up until Ron was too far away to keep a lock on his thoughts. I fell asleep while Joey and Tammy went over her own experiences again, then woke up startled to find myself alone in Tammy's room. I grabbed some dinner, then went to look for my mom and dad to get their opinion on some things. With all the probing I had been doing, I hadn't felt like seeking their minds out, and instead had asked Simon where they were. I found them only by accident, having passed the small sitting room on my way from the elevator in the south wing after not finding them in the library. They were kissing each other in an unhurried and loving way, my dad wearing his robe while my mom was nude as usual. Dad leaned forward a bit, then my mom wrapped her arms around his back and proceeded to pull him down with her. My dad's head followed hers below the back of the couch, and as I listened to their exchange of kisses and breaths, I realized how deeply in love they were. I felt happy, yet it unsettled me in a way I couldn't understand. When the kissing stopped and things grew still for a few moments, I left them there without saying a word, knowing they were going to take it as slow as possible. I guess what upset me was realizing that my mom had never experienced someone make love to her, even during the few years of innocence before discovering her powers. My dad had an excuse in not having felt it before. Growing up in a house where to love someone meant you fucked them more frequently than the other slaves. Maybe my dad really did love his mom. I heard grandma moaning in her room the night before I left for Holly's. I bet my dad was responsible, especially since he had said something about spending a little time with his mom that evening. In effect, my mom and dad were about to discover something I had known for a long time, and I felt guilty for not helping my mom find it sooner. I mean, there I was, mister "I want to make love to you first," knowing what the greatest experience was in the world, and that everyone should experience it before leaving this life. But did I even consider the possibility my mom was one of those unfortunate people who had not had it yet? I started to several times, but I didn't want to cross that line. I didn't want to find a reason to have sex with my own mother. And now I had lost the chance of being the first person to share it with the woman I had loved my entire life. I knew thinking like this was really stupid, but my emotional stability hadn't returned since the time with Tammy, and I guess it was time for a little depression anyway. I wandered around the south wing a while, finding it's sinister look and feel somehow appropriate to my mood. I ended up laying down inside a large cardboard box that was left over from the addition of a full size kitchen to that wing. It's funny how the mind likes to torture itself. I spent hours reviewing everything that had happened the past six months, letting myself relive the guilt, the sorrow, the fear, and the anger. After I finished demolishing the box which had been my refuge, I decided it was time to go to bed and headed that way. "There you are," I heard Tammy's voice say from somewhere down the hall. "We've been looking all over for you." I was about to reply, but found she wasn't talking to me. "Why did he leave you all tied up? You should have told him not to. There. Hey, you can't go out there like that. Put your clothes on and try and look normal. Tim came home early, but Joey stayed with him until we managed to bore him to sleep. Joey and I have been searching for you for almost three hours, and now no one seems to know where Tim went after he woke up. "Stop doing that. You know that makes me horny. I'm sorry. I know you're only wanting to please me, but we can't risk Tim finding you like this. Remember how worried his mom was about him finding out she made you Randy's slave. Oh, did I say something you liked? I can't wait to hear how he was. I bet he made you do all sorts of wicked things." I hid from sight when I realized they were leaving the guest room they were in. Since we were in the south wing, I wasn't sure exactly what kind of layout that room had, but I knew it was probably full of gadgetry and restraints. Holly followed Tammy down the hall, only once running her hands up and down Tammy's ass before obeying Tammy's order to restrain herself. I couldn't believe it. My mom? My mom made Holly Randy's plaything? How did they think they could get away with it? I would have known the next time I touched Holly's mind. But even more importantly, why? Tammy didn't know the mansion very well, so it was a simple matter to make her get lost. I wasn't sure what I wanted to do, but I was certain I wanted to talk to my mom before she undid the slave commands in Holly's head. I guess I had my mind on making sure Tammy stayed lost because I didn't sense Joey until he saw me. "Hey. I've been looking everywhere for you," Joey said as he strolled up to me. "Where were you? I couldn't feel you anywhere." "I went out for a while," I lied. "You okay? You looked kind of pale a moment ago." "I was just surprised to see you, that's all. I mean, this end of the mansion is kind of creepy." "I used to think so too, but I guess I got used to it. You going to sleep in your own room or mine? Or are you going to try out Tammy's bed tonight?" I said with a grin. "Heh. Yeah, right... Uhm, if it's okay with you, I'll sleep with you again. I really need to talk to you about what I want to do." I felt the sincerity of his words, and for a few moments I considered skipping confronting my mom about what she was doing behind my back. But then I remembered that Joey was involved in it, and that made me angry. "Why do you want to talk about it with me? You seem to trust my mom's opinion more than mine." Joey turned white again and stopped in his tracks. "What do you mean?" "You know what I mean. Shit, Joey. I thought I could trust you. But you must have gotten too good at hiding the stuff you did with the girls you enslaved at your cousin's school. You're doing it even now. What, do I have to say it?" "I don't... know what you're talking about," Joey said with growing confidence. "My mom turned Holly into Randy's sex slave while I was over at Suzi's. You and Tammy both knew, so stop fucking around with me. If I wasn't so tired, I'd probably want to argue with you, but all I want to do now is tell my mom what I think of her, and then go to bed." I left Joey standing there, his face twisted in a mixture of emotions and indecision. I thought he was just going to let me be, but then he caught up with me and grabbed my arm. "Look. I may have done things you don't like in the past, and yes, I tried to help Samantha, but... Shit, Tim. You're not God. You don't know everything there is to know, and you don't have the right to tell everyone what is right and wrong. When someone wants to do something you forbid, you get really upset when they keep talking about it or try it. You scare me sometimes the way you get so emotional. And your mom is always worried you'll find something else to blame yourself for, then go off the deep edge with grief. "Holly, Randy, and Tammy talked your mom in doing it. I didn't find out until afterwards, and I only went along with it because I knew you would flip out if you found out. That's the truth, and I know you can feel it. I'm sorry for hiding it from you, but I was only trying to make things easier on you." I had been staring into his eyes the whole time without showing any signs of emotion, and after he finished, I glared down at his hand holding my upper arm which he released instantly. I turned around and walked away without a word, trying to stay determined to confront my mom and not let Joey off the hook.But my exhaustion was making me doubt myself, and when I reached the elevator, I looked back to see Joey watching me with hopeful eyes. I sighed, rubbed my tired eyes, then looked at him with a judging gaze. "Okay. I guess you're right," I said finally. "But that still doesn't make what mom did right." "She's not stupid, you know," Joey said, jogging up to me. "Sam said she tried to talk Holly out of it, but she wouldn't let up. I don't think Sam would have done it if she thought Holly might be hurt or not able to handle it." "Shit... Yeah, Holly can be more stubborn than a rock. And if there is anyone who can handle something, it's Holly. All right. Let's just go to bed. I'm wiped out. I hope you can wait until morning to tell me what you're planning." The elevator doors opened at that instant, and before I could turn around, Joey's eyes lit up and he said with a grin, "I guess I'll have to." Joy and Honey joined us in my bed that night, but to my relief, the girls were just looking for some snuggling. Joey wound up pulling double duty there, for as soon as my head touched the pillow, I was off in dreamland.He convinced us we were only feeling what every college freshman felt before leaving home for school the first time, and that there were always a couple of guys who looked too young to be in college. Even the fact that Joey and I only had to shave about once every two weeks didn't seem to persuade Fred's assurances that we were as ready as we could be. Of course, he didn't know what we had been preparing for. As far as Fred was concerned, we were just two really young-looking guys who had needed his assurances and insight about college life. He didn't know that while he was telling us everything he remembered from his college experience, my dad was picking his brain with a small but extremely sharp mental blade. The things my dad was able to pull from the foggy areas of Fred's memory convinced Joey that Sarah was alive and a slave at one of the four state universities. The first thing my dad pieced together was a memory of one of Fred's daily visits to a medical laboratory where at least twenty medical students were working. Fred just walked right in, took a form from a bin near the door, wrote his name, the time, and his student ID number on it, then removed his shirt and looked for the first available station. The two lab assistants at the station he picked took Fred's blood pressure and other measurements, then Fred removed the small pin from his pierced nipple and stood still while one of them inserted a short needle into the top hole, puncturing the skin inside. Fred didn't seem to feel anything but a mild tingle as the lab assistant extracted several cc's of a faintly yellow liquid. The extraction took several minutes to complete, and once the assistant seemed satisfied by the amount, he called the other one over while removing the syringe section, leaving the needle section stuck in Fred's nipple. The first assistant took the syringe away while the other returned with another syringe filled with a clear liquid. She attached the syringe to the needle, then proceeded to inject the contents into the same place the other had come from. When she finished, the syringe and needle were removed, and Fred automatically reinserted the sterilized nipple pin, put his shirt on, and left. Apparently, he did this three times a day without having any conscious memory of doing it, and this seemed to make up the largest portion of the blank spots in his memory. But not all of them. In fact, the most important piece of information we got came from a week he couldn't consciously recall living. A few weeks after his initiation into the fraternity and the programming of his mind by an unseen person, one of the senior brothers told Fred to meet some of the other new members outside at 2:00 am, and to follow the instructions given to him by the masked stranger who showed up. When a woman appeared wearing a black ski mask, she ordered the group to close their eyes and to put on the blindfolds she passed out. One by one, they were led into what felt like a school bus and were told to go to sleep. He never knew how long he had been asleep or how far away he had traveled before waking up in a hospital-like waiting room. A nurse rolled a cart into the waiting room after he waited patiently in the room for a good hour. She passed out a clipboard of forms and a paper grocery bag to each of the ten young men there, then told them to fill out the forms and to write their names on the bags before stripping and putting all their clothes in it. They followed her orders without question, then once they were all nude, she led them all down the hall to a room filled with physicians. They were given physicals, gave blood and urine samples, ran through an assortment of other tests and scans, then finally were told to lay down on a gurney and were knocked out by an injection. Fred woke up finding his right breast burning like a bitch, but having been ordered to ignore it, he didn't touch it or complain about it in the least. Just like with Tammy, Fred found himself still nude, in strange unknown surroundings, and completely committed to please his mistress. The woman who he and four others pleasured for six exhaustive days was not someone we had seen before, but it was perfectly obvious that while she was a telepath, she wasn't talented or even smart enough to perform the kind of programming we had been finding. In fact, she appeared to be a spoiled brat who didn't want to do any of the work to obtain what she wanted. It was clear she was dependent on someone else's skill and generosity, sometimes mentioning what she was going to ask for next. Each day they were run through the same routine, waking up in the hospital, being run through the battery of tests like cattle, then getting knocked out just to wake up with their breast feeling like it was on fire. But with the wild and frenzied sex they had after they woke, Fred didn't seem to notice it all that much. When Fred's mistress would get tired of the five men's attentions, she would entertain herself by having them wrestle and eventually fuck each other. Fred had never considered sex with another man before, but the moment his mistress said so, he desired nothing else. Fred woke up once hearing an unfamiliar voice talking to his mistress. He only caught a glance of the other woman before Fred was told to go back to sleep. Even though he didn't get a good look at her, both Joey and I swore it looked like an older version of the girl who had met Joey's dad with the man we were looking for. So that was when we knew we were on the right track.

Chapter XIII: 11th Grade, Fall 1987 - Part 4 - Enough Love For Everyone

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/8389.txt

Waiting for Orchidea

"Hmm... It feels so good... I just started shitting in my panties... Hmm... so nice... so hot... I feel so filthy... Hmm... Hmm... What a long stinker..." At the other end of the line, Orchidea had just started to leak brown in her panties. "Oh god... Hmm." Excited she sure was, her voice betrayed it... Such a splendid vessel carrying such vile words, such unladylike dialogues... It was the paradoxical beauty of it all... Orchidea... What a soiled, impure yet splendid flower she was. "Are you full, are you gonna shit a lot?" "Fuck yes... I'm rubbing spit on my big shit-bloated belly... It's all swollen and packed tight with that magic shit... Hmm... Full of that stinky love cream... Fuck... It's starting to slide up along my cunt... Hmm... Wish you were there to fucking tongue me." "Come over now, I can't wait anymore... I wanna see you and smell you, I want you to stink up the whole place again... You coming now?" "Yeah... I'll be at your place in half an hour... If I don't stop to rub myself too often in the car, hahaha... Hmm... Before I go..." A few seconds of silence, and then I heard the muffled sound of a gush of bowel wind... Her hot, light and airy gift that unfortunately only my ear could enjoy at that moment... The shit in the seat of her panties must have given it that unusual sound... I loved brown ear candy... "I wish you could smell it... Hmm... Dear... Okay, see you!" It took me almost a minute to stop caressing my cock and hang up the phone, comfortably trapped as I was in the mind-fucking trance that our conversations always threw me in... Orchidea had the way with potty talk. Everyone knew her as an articulate and polite young woman whose speech was always decent, but I was the lucky witness to her love of dirty talk. She adored verbal filth and knew how to turn me on with raw, obscene and vulgar talk that paradoxically made her so hot in my eyes. She was a pretty orchid outside, but indoors she changed into one of those giant jungle flowers whose gigantic size was only matched by the gigantic stench they gave off. And we both loved that! Just like the flies in those jungles, I was irresistibly drawn to her vile smelly ways, because she took so much pleasure in them, because it made her the most desirable woman I could imagine. With total abandon and carelessness, she everyday went from being an odorless flower to a 5'11" tall, pear-shaped goddess whose essence was found in her anal folds... her anal folds which weren't hidden much, always exposed, always on her mind. The shit-eating fly I was, how thrilled I was to worm my tongue into her all her smiling, carefree, loose, open gift-giving mouths... Oh! I loved the kiss of her filthy lips as she vomited shit-induced moans and fart-stained syllables!I'd French-kiss her, our lips and tongues lubricated brown. I'd let the enema drool out of my mouth into hers. "RING!" I leaped out of my erotic daydreaming. Someone was at the door, downstairs. I went to the videophone and turned it on. The woman at the door was lustfully wiggling her tongue at the mini camera. She moved back so I could see more of her, and I loved what I saw: She was tall, almost 5'11", and her revealing clothes couldn't hide her wonderfully feminine curves. Her hair was long, dark, and slightly wavy. The coarse black and white image was good enough to show that she was very good-looking. A good-looking woman who was now removing her skirt, stripping down to her panties! Some panties that were obviously filled with a not-too-subtle smelling cream! She pointed her ass to the camera: what a wonder! Large, round yet muscular, with her tight undies struggling to contain both her wonderful globes of flesh and the creamy contents they had given birth to! Was she going to get into the elevator like that? Of course, she was going to! Silly me... I knew she loved to show off, and getting caught almost naked with panties full of waste was the kind of risk-taking that made her wet! "Are you gonna open that door for me, you goof?" she said, laughing. "I'm freezing my butt and my shit out here!" "I told you not to do this. What if someone sees you like that? Anyway, I'm so glad you're here! Come in... everything is ready... hehe." I pressed the black button to open the door downstairs. I wasn't waiting for Orchidea anymore... she was there. The end (so far...) brownkisser Latrine People Foundation

SCAT,mf,raunch

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/9567.txt

LeAnna

"Ten" by LeAnna

"Definite ten." "No way! You're shitting me. Look at her -- sure, she's got a nice face, but the legs are waaaaaay too short." "Look at her breasts." I nudged Nick none too gently. "Look at how they jump up, and gently slope down. Perky." He frowned, squinting his eyes, and shifted in the metal bench. "I like them round." "Hers aren't round? No, no, look at this one..." His gaze followed mine, and he whistled appreciatively. "Now, those are round breasts. Perfectly proportionate in all directions. Don't jut out too far in the front. The sides jut out too." I leaned close to Nick and whispered in a conspiratorial tone, "Want to know how you can tell if a chick's got breast implants?" His interest piqued, he tore his gaze off of the lady passing by and looked at me. "How?" "The breasts are too round" -- I pointed to the lady -- "just like that." "That's not true," he protested, punching me lightly on the shoulder. I grinned maniacally. "Pamela Anderson." "Like you've seen Pamela Anderson's tits." "Everybody's seen Pamela Anderson's tits. That's not the point here. Breasts are supposed to be sort of triangles." "Yeah, but look at the tits here. Silicone footballs jutting out of the chicks' chests." "And you love it, don't you?" "Nah." He stared off into the distance, squinting his eyes a bit. "I'm not into it, really, the whole fake-chest thing. The girls around here..." "If you don't like fake breasts, why do you like the ones that look fake then?" Caught in his argument, he shrugged. I prodded further. "What kind of tits do you like?" He broke his stare off from the distance and his eyes followed my curves, resting on my own mounds of flesh. I nudged him in the side, giggling. "Stop that, now." He stared unashamedly, a smile teasing the edge of his lips, and he nudged me back, his elbow pushing into the side of my breast none too subtly. I sat closer to him and leaned my head against his shoulder. We fell into a silence and sat for a while, observing passers-by going into the bar one by one. I took a drink of the vodka bottle I held in my hand and passed it to Nick, who took a healthy swig, winced, and passed it back. After a few moments, I spoke up again. "Look at her." He looked. "Too skinny." "Her legs, man. They're longer than I am," I remarked, half-enviously and half-appreciatively. He noticed the jealous tone in my voice and nudged me. "Yours aren't bad, either." I grinned devilishly. "I'm not drunk enough, hon. Back to the subject. The more leg a woman has, the better to ride you with." He nodded in agreement. "True, true. Has anybody ever told you that you think like a man?" "What? Do you mind?" "Not at all, Lee. Not at all." "Good." I slitted my eyes in fake menace, just to let him know his place. Half the vodka bottle was gone now, and I was feeling rather slippery-footed and loose-tongued. I smiled, and lay back against the bench, and we continued watching people disappear into the bar, one by one. The bouncer would give us the evil eye every once in a while, but since we'd bought the bottle in the bar, he didn't say anything. We sat, growing bored and drunk. She walked by in a simple black dress that flowed gracefully around her body, the hem ending right above her knees. Like the woman before her, her legs were achingly long and smooth. My mouth watered. Nick's jaw dropped. Her face was beautiful because it was simple. No makeup, just a speckling of freckles across her ski-jump nose atop her porcelain-pale skin. Soft red hair that shone in the moonlight. Lips that weren't too full or too thin yet still curved and pouted and jutted. Her breasts curved up and sloped down -- the perfect pair of breasts, as I had commented earlier to Nick. He didn't seem to mind that they weren't round, as his eyes were eagerly traveling up and down her figure. Her legs shot up forever and finally met her ass, cheeks tight and yet still round enough to make her dress swish obediently behind her. "My god." The words slipped out in a slurred whisper. I was in awe. Nick looked over at me, and clutched his heart, thumping at it. I nudged and poked him in the side. "Go ahead. Do it." He jumped. "Huh? What?" "Hurry! She's getting away!" "Ma'am! Miss!" Nick called out to her, waving his hand in the air, and she turned to face us. My heart skipped a beat and my pulse pounded in my ears when her gaze rested upon me. She frowned and pointed to herself. "Yes, you, ma'am," Nick called again, motioning her to come over. She jaunted toward us, walking with a spring in her step. I couldn't tear my gaze off of her body. Her stomach was perfect, flat with a slight womanly bulge. "Can I help you people?" Nick nodded, gazing up at her. He smiled gently. And then the dumbest thing popped out of his mouth. "That's a pretty dress." She looked down, self-conscious. "Thank you." "I bet it'd look pretty on the floor next to my bed." Her eyes widened, her cheeks flushed, her hand flew out and smacked Nick on the cheek with a resounding POP! I fell over laughing, and she gave me a dirty look, "hmmph"ing right before she turned around and walked away into the bar, her ass wiggling with the most delightful indignation. My laughter echoed off of the streets, and Nick sat there with the most pitiful look he could muster. He couldn't last long with the morose expression, and started laughing along with me. Finally, we eased back into the routine of boredom. "Nick?" "What?" "Do you use that on all the little ladies?" "So what if I do? Next time you try pickin' her up." I giggled and shook my head. "Here." I handed him the bottle. "Loosen up." I let my gaze drift to the street. The night air sounded with the music and general pandemonium of the bar inside. When there was a break in the music the twittering chirp of crickets could be heard, and truth be told, I found the crickets more endearing to me. The air was crisp and fresh, a rarity in the city, and moist with night air. I slipped my feet out of my heels and put it down on the grass, letting the wet, dew-kissed grass slip between my toes and tickle the arch of my foot. I counted the cars as they thundered by. A blue Grand Am. A white Cavalier. A black Corvette. A red Ford pickup. The bottle was almost empty. A covert glance at Nick told me that he was quickly getting drunk, his eyes glassy and his mouth spread wide in a grin. He told me the same of myself, and I only laughed, though the world felt as if it were spinning. He put his hand on my knee, and I shivered as the electricity crackled between us. "Still not drunk enough, dear," I intoned, my voice laced with possibility. "Damn," he intoned, his voice laced with laughter. He slipped his hand up closer to my thighs. "You know, I don't really believe you. I think you want me." "Maybe. Buy me another bottle of this shit, will you?" "With what money? Should I sell my body?" His hand crept closer and closer to my thighs, creeping along as slowly as a snail trudging along a sidewalk on a hot, simmering day. "Well, bother, I mean, don't" -- His fingertip grazed the vertex of my shorts. We sat there, as if nothing were going on, even though strangers passing by would gaze at us curiously. I gave them a slow, easy smile and occasionally shouted out comments to them that usually made them blush and turn away, leaving us to our playing. I relaxed back on the bench, and my retorts to their stares quickly turned into obnoxious comments shouted at the women, who usually started walking faster. A fleeting half-thought came to my mind that I would regret it in the morning, but the thought would usually shoot like a bullet out of the distance before I fully realized it. So I let my obnoxious, dark side take over. "Hey babe! Nice ass!" "Look at 'em tits juggle, boy!" "Wouldn't I love those legs wrapped around me!" My voice was becoming gravelly, and I'd forget a letter or a word here and slur a few letters together there.Only one woman didn't start walking faster in eagerness to escape our scathing comments. The redhead. Instead, she turned to stare at us, her eyebrows furrowing in anger. I giggled, and Nick slid his fingers underneath the hem of my shorts. She stared for a few moments, her eyes slitted, and then walked slowly and deliberately to us. Her eyes were flashing. She stood there for a few moments, and there was a small crowd gathering, hooting and hollering. "Get 'em, lady!" "Kick ass!" "Show that bastard!" Her hand shot out... And slapped Nick squarely on the cheek. His eyes widened in surprise as a matching welt started to develop opposite the one she'd given him earlier. "You just can't get enough, can you, you sick pervert?" I stood up. "Hey, miss, leave 'im alone! It was me that said 'I'd love them legs wrapped around me.'" She looked at me only then, her stare deep and piercing. Her furrowed brow eased, and her eyes relaxed. She looked back and forth at us, her head snapping side to side in confusion, and finally, her gaze rested upon mine. I could feel my cheeks turning red as I stood before her like a dog with its tail between its legs. Finally, her scowl turned into a relaxed thin-lipped expression, and slowly developed into a smile. She started to chuckle, then snicker, and then bellow out her raucous laughter. I was silent with surprise, and then my own guilty expression started to loosen into a smile, and I laughed along with her. Nick gazed up at us, his hand on his cheek, looking at us as if we had suddenly gone insane. A smile played on the edge of his lip, dancing for a moment before he joined us in our laughter. Her eyes bore into my own. They were a piercing shade of green, so much different from the softness of her skin and features and hair. I felt myself falling into her gaze, and tried to slow my descent with little success. Her voice lowered, and she moved closer to me. "So you like my legs, huh?" I blushed, embarrassment hitting me with the sudden speed of a train. I expected a slap at any moment. "Yes. I do." "What did you say you'd like to see them do?" My guard started to slip down a bit, but I still kept my hands at my side, twitching with nervousness. "Wrap around my thighs, ma'am." She laughed, her head tilting back with the breezy sound. "Is that all?" I hesitated, feeling very much like a little boy who'd been caught with a Playboy. Only I was a woman, so very close to another woman. I could feel her breath caressing my face as she exhaled. Smelled wonderful - she hadn't eaten in a bit, so it didn't smell over-minted or spicy. Natural. There was a hint of perfume lingering about her, and it drifted over to me in tiny little waves. My breathing quickened. "No, ma'am, that's not all." "What else would you like to do to me?" All menace was gone from her expression, and her eyes smoldered. My guard let loose completely and clattered to the ground with a resounding bang. "Lick and suck you until you scream, ma'am." "Denise. I'm not ma'am, I'm Denise. Who are you?" "Lee." She leaned close to me, and I could smell her coconut perfume strongly now. Her lips grazed mine gently, and I closed my eyes, reveling in the sensation. The kiss deepened, and she pressed her body closer to mine. I could feel the curves I'd so admired earlier touching mine. Her lips were soft and sweet, and pressed urgently against mine. Her mouth opened a tiny bit, and my tongue slowly moved between the crack. Finally, we parted, and I opened my eyes to see her green eyes looking back at mine. Her breath was hot and quick. Her nipples were visible through the fabric, and when she glanced down at my chest, I knew mine were also. I tore my gaze hesitatingly from her to Nick. His eyes were as round as saucers as he stared at us intently, and his lips were slightly parted. I could tell he was breathing hard. Denise put her hand on my waist, and I grinned at him before returning my attention to Denise. "Lee." "Denise." "I'll forgive you for that comment on one condition." I grinned evilly. "What condition is that?" "That you come with me. You and your" - she gestured to Nick - "companion. To my apartment." All trace of feeling like a guilty puppy faded away. She wanted me. Nothing to be guilty about. When I shot a quick glance at Nick, I could see the same thoughts that coursed through my mind course through his. Her fingers squeezed on my waist. I couldn't refuse. Her arm wrapped around my waist, and I beckoned Nick to follow. He looked at me a little suspiciously, wondering if another slap would come pummeling at him, but after some contemplation as to tonight's activities, he leapt up eagerly and trailed behind us like a puppy anxious for his treat. A few minutes and a bumpy car ride later, we arrived at her apartment. We thundered up three flights of stairs. Denise panted, "I don't get enough exercise." "Get an elevator." "We can get there quicker if we run," she replied with a grin. We reached the landing for her floor, and as we walked toward her apartment, she looked at Nick. "You okay?" He smiled at her. "I'll live." He rubbed his cheeks, gesturing to her his red welts. She snickered. "If you can live through what me and Denise are going to do to you, you can live through anything." Her voice was teasing and made me shiver with its sexual annotations. The low, throaty tone made me moisten significantly. The lock clicked, and the door swung open, revealing a classy apartment that was tastefully furnished. White, shimmering curtains hung over the sliding door that led to the balcony. An entertainment system to be envied, with a large screen television and speakers that reached to my thighs in height. There was a desk with a small laptop situated in the middle of it, and to the left of the desk was a small, black leather loveseat. A bar that had a champagne bottle with an unfinished glass lingering on it separated the kitchen from the living room. She led us to her bedroom, giving an obligatory tour on the way, pointing toward the bathroom and talking a mile a minute about her apartment. "It's real small, but I'm living by myself, so it does the job for me. Besides, it is rather cozy in here. Thick walls, too. I hardly ever get bothered by the neighbors." "Or bother the neighbors," Nick mused in a tone so low it was almost as if it wasn't meant for her to hear. She looked at him again, and he grinned at her. His face seemed to beam with sunshine every time she focused her attention on me. I nudged him, and his eyes shot to me. I winked, and he took the opportunity to slap Denise lightly on her ass. I giggled. "Hey Denise, we better teach him a lesson. Seems that he's getting too fond of my girl." "Yup," she muttered absently, her eyebrows furrowed in thought. She opened the bedroom door. Inside of this room was a huge king-sized bed with a bedspread ornamented with roses and sprigs. A bedside table was off to the side of it. A large, plush, black leather armchair sat by it, tilted toward the bed. Denise headed straight for the bedside table, rummaging through it and murmuring to herself. I stood awkwardly, and Nick patted me on the bottom, his fingers caressing the inward curve of my cheeks. I jumped in surprise and winked at him. Finally, Denise found what she wanted and held it out proudly. Rope. Handcuffs. Denise and I slowly directed our menacing gazes to Nick, who started backing away. "Me? No, not... No!" "Let's do it," I whispered to Denise, nudging her. She sauntered up to him, and I moved my hand quickly to his cock that was bulging through his jeans. I moved behind him, gripping hold of the bulge in his jeans, feeling it for a moment before I undid the zipper and slipped my hand in to meet his hot, hard skin. Denise started to kiss him, the wet sounds of their osculating echoing through the air. She slipped the handcuffs to me, him unaware of what was going on. I pulled his hand back to my breast, and he obediently started to massage the flesh and tease my hard nipple. He moved his other arm awkwardly back to feel my other breast, his elbow's joint cracking with protest. Denise caught my eye over his shoulder, and I nodded. She slapped the cuffs over his wrists and clicked them shut. He jerked his hands apart against the metal reflexively, and I stood back to admire my handiwork. I moved to the front of his body, and Denise stood behind me, her hands reaching around to run along my stomach and cup my breasts. Her fingers rubbed and tweaked and tugged my nipple, and I arched my chest into her hands in response. I slowly got to my knees, and Denise descended with me. I leaned forward to lick the bulging head of his cock, my fingers playing with his testes. One of Denise's hands strayed to my pussy, popping open the button and pulling down the zipper of my shorts. I took his head into my mouth, swirling my tongue about it. He groaned and tilted his head back. His eyes were shut with concentration. "Now." Denise whispered into my ear, and I nodded, understanding. She handed me one of her pieces of rope, and slowly, silently moved away from me and stood behind him, bending to her knees, ready to catch the rope. With the speed of a cat, I wound the rope around his ankles as tightly as I could. He stumbled, shouting protest, and Denise jumped up to catch him around the waist, her hand forming a fist around the base of his cock. I lifted him up by the feet, and she carried him by the waist. We dragged him over to the armchair and propped him up in it. My, it did look comfortable. My, did he look uncomfortable. His cock stood straight out from his pants like a flagpole. The head of his penis was an angry scarlet. If I didn't know better, I'd say that being tied up turned him on."What are you ladies planning on doing?" His expression had melted from angry to devilish. We didn't answer. Denise turned to me, and I wrapped my arms around her neck, pulling her close for a deep kiss. Her lips were warm and inviting. Her tongue was wet and slippery as they worked between my lips. I ached for her, and my hands slipped down to cup her breasts. They were every bit as firm and imposing as I'd dreamt them to be. I squeezed the nipples experimentally, and she deepened the kiss, her mound pressing against me. We worked our way to the bed and fell on it, kissing and touching and feeling. We rolled over again and again, back and forth, kissing. Finally, we landed with myself on top and her on the bottom. She let her hand stray to my groin and undid the zipper. She slipped her fingers into the band of my panties, and my skin jumped at the cool touch. She giggled and scrunched down, pushing up my shirt and pulling down my shorts. I squirmed, helping her take them off, and kicked them off to the other side of the room. They landed on Nick's right armrest, and I giggled, pulling my shirt up and tossing it over to him too. I could see his cock surging with excitement, jumping and bobbing comically. His expression was somewhere between ecstasy and pain. Her mouth found my stomach, and I groaned, writhing beneath her hot lips. I wove my hands into her silky hair and watched her kiss and nibble my belly, working closer and closer to the gold. Her lips traveled downward. With every millimeter, my excitement soared. Sweat appeared on my face in tiny droplets. My body was on fire, and she was closer and closer to quenching the flames. Her tongue traveled along my hairless mound. Tease. Lick. Tickle. She nibbled my thighs. I tilted my head back, my mouth wide open in a moan, eyes squeezed shut. My clit! She sucked it gently, with a maddening rhythm, and her finger suddenly went deep inside me. She tilted me higher and higher. Finally, when she took my clit between her teeth and nibbled, I couldn't handle it anymore and screamed my pleasure out loud, pulling her tightly to me, gasping and grunting as my body shook with orgasm. Finally, my limbs relaxed, one by one, and I let out a trailing moan as if bidding my orgasm farewell. Her head popped up, and she grinned broadly. "Did you like that?" Her voice was low and sexy. "God, yes." We sat there for a few moments, basking in the afterglow. Finally, I turned my head to Nick. Poor guy! Precum was running down his angry red cock in rivulets, and he was thrusting it in empty air. It throbbed and pulsed constantly. Denise followed my gaze and laughed when she saw him. "Please! I can't take much more!" His face was desperate. I gave Denise a sly grin, and sat up, pulling her dress up over her head. She put her arms around me to unsnap my bra while I tugged at her panties. She wriggled out of them obediently, and her bra soon followed the growing pile of clothes. Both completely nude, we got up off of the bed and stood proudly before Nick. His cock jumped. I went around the back of the armchair and gripped him just below the shoulders, pulling him up by his armpits while Denise pulled up his legs. We dropped him down onto the bed. "Will you take off my handcuffs?" "Mmmm. No. But we'll undo your leg binds." Denise's voice was low and teasing. I undid the buttons of his shirt and ran my hand along his muscular skin, whistling appreciatively. Denise undid the rope around his leg, and I put a pillow underneath his head to make him more comfortable. I dropped my head down to Nick's ear and whispered, "Are you about to come?" He nodded. "Hmmm." I mounted him, my legs spread just below his cock. His cock surged again. I touched the tip of my clit to the base of his cock, reveling in the warm skin. Denise moved past me and sat on his face towards me, her ass positioned over his eyes, and he promptly opened his mouth and started to lick her. I moved my clit against his cock a few times before lifting up my body and setting it down on him. "Oh, god," I whispered wetly. "Feels so... mmmm... big and hard..." "Oh god," Denise moaned. "Work that tongue, baby." I worked up and down his cock, shivering and moaning every time he bottomed out in my pussy. I felt so full and satiated. He felt delicious inside me. I gave a tiny gasp, feeling his rigid cock as he thrust it. He moaned into Denise's pussy, and Denise tilted her head back as she rode his face. He thrust his hips up harder, faster, slamming into me with all the strength he had, until he exploded with a groan and a hard thrust. He came and came and came. I felt it shoot inside me, and I felt my pussy grow slipperier with his cum. I squirmed with pleasure and kept riding him, pushing my hips back and forth, until I was pushed over the edge again. The fall wasn't as long and hard this time, but I still shouted and groaned, my orgasm stretching on forever. "BITE MY CLIT!" Denise squealed, her hips undulating rapidly on him. "Oh, god, yes, harder! I'm going to come!" A guttural groan rose up from her throat and let loose, and her body shaking as she bucked faster on him. I was bucking on him, too, his cock thrusting in and out, and I could only imagine the strength we were sapping out of the poor guy, both sitting on him. I tilted my head back and moaned, my hands reaching out to caress her nipples. She still bucked back and forth on him, her delicate face beaded with sweat, and I could tell she was close to another orgasm. My hand dropped down to her clit, and I massaged it, back and forth, up and down, around and around. Nick's tongue was going crazy, brushing against me occasionally. I could hear the suction of his lips on her clit and sense the flickering and nibbling that was driving her insane. "Oh, my god, I'm COMING!" her moans were even louder now, and she was bucking on him so hard that his neck would probably hurt in the morning. His cock twitched inside me, jumping with every thrust she made. I felt her clit tremble against my finger as I instigated another orgasm from Denise. She groaned and bit her lip, her body stiffening. She shook her head from side to side, eyes clenched tight in orgasm, and from deep within her throat, squeals of pleasure escaped. Finally, she collapsed, her muscles relaxing. I leaned forward to kiss her on the lips, and we kissed for a while. I let her taste the tinge of her cum that remained on my tongue. Finally, we got up off of Nick and undid his handcuffs. He pulled his arms apart, and I collapsed in the crook of one arm, snuggling against his body, exhausted. Denise did the same, and we slipped off into a deep, satisfied sleep, holding each other.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11050.txt

Lord Malinov

Equal Opportunity

"How did the interviews go?" asked Kathy, unbuttoning her blouse. Sitting on their bed, Jeff looked up, still lost in thought. "Did you find someone to help you?" "Nope," he said, watching calmly as his wife unclasped her bra. "Tomorrow will be looking at four more applicants." Caught boyishly by the sight of Kathy's naked breasts, Jeff smiled slightly. "That's too bad," she said, dropping her pants. "I thought you sounded hopeful this morning." Kathy tickled her faint brown muff and turned to step into the bathroom. Jeff watched his wife's bottom shake, always ready to appreciate her sensual charms. "I was," he called out. "She looked good on paper, but it wouldn't have worked out." The water began to run, and Jeff heaved a deep sigh. Two weeks had passed since he had finagled the Morgan case away from Epstein, and Jeff couldn't help but lament the days they'd wasted. It was beginning to seem impossible to find assistants who could help handle the convoluted legalisms that plagued the Morgan situation. With the booming economy, competition for skilled help offered them a shallow pool of applicants. This morning, finally, Jeff really thought the search was over. He'd been sitting at his desk, reading over her resume again, trying to find an excuse not to hire this one on sight. Most applicants hadn't even been close; Jeff had turned away twenty. The work was starting to back up on him, but Jeff reminded himself each morning that bad help was worse than no help. The summer before, he'd been severely burned by the assistant Jack had hired for him, and Jeff didn't want that kind of trouble again. He'd spent six weeks undoing the mess Ben had made, three weeks more than it probably would have taken to just do the job by himself. Jeff scowled, adamant he would not go through that again. But when Jeff read through the list of this applicant's qualifications again, he found constant reassurance in each well-chosen word. "Maybe," he thought, still afraid to be hopeful, "we can actually start to get some work done today." Jeff took a deep breath when the intercom gave a familiar buzz, and Stacy said, "Beth Carter to see you, Mr. Walters." Jeff reached for the white button. "Thanks, Stacy. Send her in." Jeff started to stand as the young woman stepped into the doorway, but felt his knees weaken when she came full into view. Jeff's eyes opened wide, and he put a hand on his desk to help raise himself up. "Mr. Walters?" she asked. Her voice sang pleasantly. "Jeff," he said. His voice faltered. "Please, come in." He looked back down at the resume. "Elizabeth?" "Beth Carter," she said, reaching forward in greeting. Jeff shook her soft hand lightly. "Please," he said, already drifting down into his chair. "Have a seat." Beth smiled and smoothed her plum suit skirt over her lean thigh with an elegance that pleased Jeff. "She'd give the team a real touch of class," he thought, imagining the impact such a smart-looking woman would have by his side when he met with the field group. "I brought some writing samples," she said, opening a leather folder and withdrawing several sheets of paper. "Good," Jeff said, reaching over the desk to take the documents. Looking up from the well-crafted prose, he caught the anxious stare of her bright blue gaze. A rush of heat invigorated his heartbeat. "This is excellent," he said, reacting honestly as he deliberately read another paragraph. Jeff looked up at the woman and saw a faint blush color her soft cheeks. "Thank you," Beth said. "I wrote those when I worked for Myer and Baker." "Right," Jeff said, pulling out her resume again. "They're a good firm. Can I ask you why you left?" "They weren't challenging me," Beth said, seriously. Jeff could imagine her speaking with such insistence to someone like Jenkins or even Bradford. "I mean, I have nothing against the paperwork and such, that's just part of the business, but they seemed to shy away from tackling real problems. I want to work hard and have something to be proud of when I'm done." Jeff nodded knowingly, recognizing with delight his own attitude. He smiled wryly. "What makes you think a job here will be any different than the one you had with Don Myers?" "That's why I applied for this position. Frankly, Mr. Walters, I could probably find a higher paying job over at someplace like Witherspoon Gaddis, but I'm not looking to play a social, client shmoozing role. Not yet, anyway. From what I've seen of your work, and of you, I believe I can find what I'm looking for here." "Challenges?" "You're getting ready to handle the Morgan case, aren't you?" "Yes," said Jeff. "You're going to fight it, aren't you?" "Well, I'm not at liberty. . . ." "If you aren't going to fight," Beth said sternly, "then please don't hire me. I want to put on the gloves and get in the ring with that one. If you're just going to file settlements, I can get that somewhere else." Jeff leaned forward, excited by her fire. "Good," he said emphatically. "I like your attitude, Miss Carter." Without thinking, he noticed the absence of a ring on her left hand's fourth finger. "It would mean hard work, and probably some long hours, at least for the next few months." "I'm hoping it would," she said, smiling, flush with enthusiasm. As she leaned forward, Jeff noticed the gold cross at her breastbone, and then a glimpse of the untanned curve just beneath the edge of her blouse. He swallowed deliberately. "Evenings, some weekends," he said, his throat dry. He picked up the glass of water on his desk and, as he took a sip, he remembered the long evenings he had spent working with Ben. He remembered the proximity of his assistant as they pored over the figures for some indicia of intent, Ben's head almost on his shoulder, the dull scent of the young man's cologne irritating him immeasurably as the nights wore on. Jeff put the glass down and looked at Beth. She nodded and smiled. Her breasts weren't big, but they had substance. Jeff imagined the way they would press against his arm as she leaned over to show him some passage that needed explanation. Beth pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, and Jeff could almost smell the delectable aroma. "We'll probably have to take two or three trips to Atlanta this spring, and there's a chance we'd have to spend a few weeks in Oregon." "I know," Beth said. "I know what the work is like. At this point, Mr. Walters. . ." "Jeff," he said quietly, smiling. "Jeff," she repeated with an indulgent grin, "at this point, I want to log some miles and put in the hours. My life is relatively free of commitments right now, and I want to put this time to good use. I don't know, maybe it's hard to believe, but I want to get my hands dirty working in the field. I'm not saying this to get a job. I can get a job. I just happen to know where I stand right now. I imagine there will be a day when I want something less taxing. But for now, I'm a young woman. I want the chance to learn from people who know and also to prove what I'm made of." Jeff nodded. He imagined for a brief moment the first week in February, when they'd go to Atlanta. He imagined carrying his suitcase into the hotel. He remembered the trip with Ben to Montreal, sitting at the hotel table most of the night getting ready for the meeting at Lystar. Jeff cleared his throat. "Well, Miss Carter," he began. "Beth," she corrected with a friendly laugh. "Everything looks good," he said. "I'm going to have to talk this over with Jack, I think they told me you met him already." "Sure," she said. "But we should be in touch with you soon." Jeff stood and held out his hand. "It's been a pleasure meeting you," he said. "Likewise," Beth said, standing and touching his hand with hers. Sitting on his bed, Jeff trembled slightly as he remembered watching the young woman leave his office, leering at the way her skirt moved when she walked. "What's the matter, Hon?" Kathy asked, toweling off her hair. "Nothing," said Jeff. "I'm just not sure I did the right thing." "About?" "Well, the woman I interviewed was probably as good as I'm going to get, and I can't help wishing I could have hired her." "Why didn't you?" Kathy asked, sitting down on the bed. "I don't know," said Jeff. "I think it was because she's a woman." Kathy hit her husband on the leg. "That doesn't sound like you, Jeff," she said, raising an eyebrow. "I know. I could even get in trouble, I mean, if she filed an EEO complaint, I'd have a hard time explaining. She was really well qualified." "Then why didn't you hire her?""Kathy," he said, his voice implying his reasons, "if you'd seen her, you'd understand." "Oh," said Kathy, catching hold of his unspoken thought. "Well, then, I'm proud of you." She smiled gaily and crawled up the bed. "You're a good husband," she said, teasing the stiffening member shrouded within his pajamas. Jeff sighed. "Lead me not into temptation," he said softly. Kathy extracted his prick from its confines and kissed the round knob atop the hard staff. Her tongue played along his pale cockskin. "You'll find someone," she promised, tickling Jeff's balls as she let the rod descend into her mouth. Bringing it back out, she looked up at her husband. "Are you going to get in trouble?" "I don't think so," Jeff said. "I told Jack I couldn't work with her and he said he could take care of it." "Jack will take care of it," Kathy echoed, suckling down her good husband's dick. "Yeah," Jeff said, closing his eyes, "that's the way." "Look, Jeff," Jack had said later that day, "I looked over her resume and I think you're nuts. Beth is really too good to let get away and she really wants to work with us. So I hope you don't mind, but I hired her as my assistant. I'll let her get started on the Morgan case while you keep looking for another hand. She won't be reporting to you, so you don't have to worry about that. She'll sit at Louise's old desk, and you can start briefing her tomorrow after your interviews are finished." Jack smacked him on the back. "And don't worry. I told her you recommended her for the senior assistant position and threw in another five grand. I think she's worth it." Jeff felt the stroke of Kathy's tongue down his prick, but his thoughts filled with mad visions of Beth's bright smiling eyes and her tits and her ass and her lean, stockinged legs and the sweet subtle fragrance as Beth bent down close to help him understand the operative fucking rule. Each day and each evening, sitting ten yards past his door and always in sight and Atlanta still waiting just a few weeks away. "Oh, God," Jeff moaned as he thrust his prick up and felt his hot fountain erupt in spurts of wild lust. Kathy eagerly drank the thick wanton flow. As his wife smiled, licking her lips, Jeff shuddered and silently groaned, "please help me."

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/9004.txt

Sandman

Friends and Lovers

"It's so funny!" Kathy exclaimed as she poked lightly at Cal's erect cock. It bobbed away slightly at her touch before springing back into position like a pendulum. "All right!" Cal protested. "You've seen it! You promised to show me yours." "Just a minute," she said, sounding slightly annoyed as she stared at the strange protrusion with great intensity, as if memorizing every last detail. She reached her hand around and grasped it, applying a light but firm pressure. "Ohh!" Cal exclaimed, bending over slightly. "Did it hurt?" Kathy asked worriedly as she withdrew her hand. "No," Cal said. "It felt kinda good, but your hands are awful cold." Kathy frowned and rubbed her hands together, blowing on them as well. The texture of his cock in her hands had been unique, hard yet somehow soft at the same time, all while being very, very alive. She lowered her hand again to his penis and grasped it again. "Better?" She asked. "Yea," Cal answered, his voice quivering slightly, his eyes wide as saucers. Standing almost nose to nose with him, her hand wrapped around his cock, Kathy leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. If her hands had not been wrapped around his cock, if the feelings and sensations he was feeling for the very first time had not been completely overwhelming him, Cal would have protested strongly at the "mushy stuff". But the kiss was a new dimension to the new sensations, and rather than pull back, he leaned forward, pursuing the touch, much to Kathy's surprise. She had known Cal all her life, since he was her neighbor and all. They waited for the school bus almost every day. Sometimes she even joined in his silly games. As they had grown older, she had often wondered what it would be like to kiss him, like the people she saw kissing in the movies. Kissing hadn't been on Cal's mind when he agreed to let her lure him into the woods, but it had been on hers. She pulled back from the closed-mouth kiss when Cal began to move in her hand. "What are you doing?" She asked. Cal blushed. "I don't know. I just started doing it. It feels really, really good!" Kathy frowned again in thought and then moved her hand up and down a little. "Like that? That feels good?" Cal gasped. "Yes!" "Hmmm," Kathy hummed thoughtfully. "And the kiss? Did you like the kiss?" "Yes," Cal admitted with another gasp, since she had continued to move her hand up and down, dragging the foreskin up and around his swollen glans. "Good," Kathy said, sounding very pleased with herself. "I liked it too." "Don't stop," Cal pleaded as she unwrapped her hand. The devastation on his face was so clear it was almost comical. "Oh. I thought you wanted to see mine," Kathy answered. It had been fun kissing him and holding his privates, but she felt he would let her do that all day long, and while the kiss was nice, it wasn't as earth-shattering to her as it apparently was to him. Indecision rocked Cal's world. Kathy's touch had built pleasure on top of pleasure, and it felt like it had all been leading somewhere. He desperately wanted that touch again. But at the same time, he was curious to know just how boys differed from girls. It was the reason he had asked her out here in the first place. Finally, his shoulders slumped, and disappointment rang in his voice as he said, "Oh, OK." She hitched her fingers into her pants and then paused, giving him a stern look. "Remember, you promised," she said, reminding him that he had sworn to keep everything secret. "I remember," Cal said, slightly impatiently. She pushed down, in one fell swoop lowering pants and panties. She looked cautiously up at Cal, and noted with a sense of rising panic the look of disbelieving amusement on his face. Cal scooted around behind her, circling once before standing in front of her again. "It looks like a butt," Cal declared. Kathy blushed furiously, but anger also reared up its head, and she bent down to grab her pants, fully intending to pull them back up, storm back home, and put an end to all this foolishness. "You promised," Cal said quickly, reminding her that they had promised to let each other get a full measure of the differences. Kathy sighed and stood up straight again. "What do you pee with?" Cal asked. She pulled back her outer lips, revealing a staggeringly complex pink landscape within. "Here," she said, her finger poised above the opening. Cal fell to his knees to get a close-up view. There was something fascinating about what he was seeing that he couldn't quite put his finger on. "Is touching it nice?" Cal asked. "Like when you touched me?" "I've never tried before," Kathy answered. "Except to clean myself, and I never noticed anything special about that." Cal considered touching her, like she had touched him, but the daunting creases and folds confused him. Finally, he stood up. "I don't see why it's such a big deal. Adults are weird." Relieved, Kathy pulled up her pants. "Yea. It was kinda nice actually," she admitted as Cal retrieved his shorts. "Hey. Wanna go find Gary and see if he's up for a game of Robin Hood? You can be Maid Marian." "Thanks, but I've got some homework to do." "Maybe tomorrow then." "Maybe." -!- "Hey Kathy," Cal said after they had stepped off the bus, his voice cracking in the first stages of puberty. "Hey Cal," Kathy goofed back at him. "Remember that time in the woods where, well, you know," Cal said hesitantly. "What about it?" Kathy asked. "Well, I found this book, and it had some ideas. I thought maybe it would be fun to try," Cal fumbled. Kathy thought a moment. "Why don't you bring me the book, and if I like what it says, maybe we'll try." "I can't!" Cal exclaimed.Calming himself, he explained, "It's in my parents' room. I could only sneak a few looks at it. If it turned up missing, they'd have my hide. You know how parents are." "Well, what did it say?" Kathy asked. Cal sneaked a glance up and down the street to make sure no one was around. "A lot of things. Remember how I hang out and you have a hole?" Kathy nodded. "Well, I'm supposed to put my thing in your hole." Kathy's face was a mixture of incredulity as Cal continued. "Really. It's supposed to be a real trip, but we can't do that 'cause that's how babies are made." "So, what's to try?" Kathy asked, trying to find the point her squeaky-voiced friend was making. "Well, the book said a lot about sucking," Cal said, studying the ground quite intently. "Sucking?" Kathy asked, almost with a laugh and louder than she had intended. "Shh!" Cal scolded. "Yeah. Well, the book says it's really intense if someone puts their mouth down there." "Calvin Conner, if you expect me to put your thing in my mouth, we'd better just cart you off to the loony bin right now. You PEE with that thing! That is SO gross!" Kathy said in a low voice, but with a tone that definitely conveyed how grossed out she was. "Look, you don't have to do anything to me," Cal said quickly, trying to calm her down. "I'll try on you. If you don't like it, we'll stop, but the book says you'll like it, a lot." "I don't know," Kathy said, sounding a little unsure of herself. "Come on," Cal coaxed with a lopsided grin. "Last time we did it, it was fun." "That was a year ago," she reminded him. "We were just kids then." "So?" Cal asked, failing to see the relevance. Kathy thought a moment. "Can we practice kissing first?" Kathy asked. "Lynn said she kissed a boy who used his tongue, and she made it sound really fine!" Cal smiled broadly. "Sure!" He agreed readily, as the book which he had been reading whenever he could sneak it away had a whole chapter devoted to kissing. They sat in a clearing in the woods behind Kathy's house, leaning up against the base of a large oak tree, exploring the pleasures of the kiss. At first, it had been but a gentle meeting of their lips. Then Cal had pressed his tongue forward, hesitantly parting her lips. When his tongue met hers, and she hesitantly responded to the meeting, it was intense beyond belief, and his arms embraced her unconsciously, drawing her closer. She responded to this by wrapping her arms around him. "Wow," Kathy said as she pulled back, gasping slightly for breath. "Yeah," Cal agreed with a weak smile on his face. "You sure you want to do this?" Kathy asked uncertainly. It took Cal a second to realize that she had moved on to the next reason for their being there. "Sure," Cal answered. Kathy shrugged and pulled down her pants, wincing as she rested down into the dry, scratchy grasses. She was about to move to stand up when she saw Cal maneuvering between her legs, crawling towards her. Something in the way he moved, what he was about to do, fired her imagination, and she ignored the discomfort. Cal wasted no time, and she suddenly felt his warm tongue run through her lips. The sensation was utterly pleasant, but was nothing compared to what she felt when his hands parted her, and his tongue began to dance and stroke the most intimate parts of her. "Ohhh," she moaned, arching her neck and back as she let the waves of pleasure roll through her. Cal lifted his head and smiled. "You like?" he asked, knowing full well the answer. He had never heard a sound like that in his life, but something told him it was not a bad one. "Yes!" She exclaimed. "Don't stop!" "You'll show me what it's like?" Cal asked slyly, sensing his favorable bargaining position. "Yes," Kathy agreed, angry at him for stopping, angry at him for forcing her to agree. Cal smiled smugly and then returned to his kisses. As Kathy grew more vocal, he discovered the erect knob that seemed to be the focal point of her pleasures. The book had mentioned it, but there really weren't any illustrations, so he discovered the clitoris by her reactions. After a while, she started panting and moaning loudly and thrashed under him. He was a little worried about the noise she was making, but the book had made quite a point that he should not stop at this point, so he didn't. When she had settled down and was fondly running her fingers through his hair, he raised up. "How was it?" "Perfect," she said distantly. The look on her face was completely unreadable. "Payback time," Cal said. "Payback time?" Kathy said. "You lift me up to touch heaven itself, then spoil it all with one crass remark. Boys!" Cal was thrown completely off balance by the vehemence of her words. Seeing the confusion on his face, Kathy's expression softened, and she said softly, "Next time, try to say something more gentle. And now, I guess we can see if it's as good for you as it was for me." Cal's face brightened considerably as he quickly pulled down his shorts and settled down onto the grass while Kathy dressed. Finally, she knelt down beside him, noting how it had grown since the last time she had seen it. She grasped it as she had done before and heard his breath catch, a slight tremor rippling through his body. Bracing herself, unable to really believe she was really doing this, she closed her eyes and lowered her head. The taste that greeted her was just slightly salty and not strong or unpleasant. The texture of hard yet fleshy was also pleasant. She could not take him all in, but she could take most of it. Remembering how he liked motion, she began to move her head, drawing it in and out of her mouth, letting it roll past her tongue. Calvin helped her by telling her when she did something he really liked, like letting her tongue play around his glans, and what he didn't like when her teeth fell too sharply against his cock. She was disturbed when she felt his hands around her head, pulling her into him, sometimes too far. But when she resisted, his touch lightened, and she allowed his lighter touch to set her pace, a pace which he seemed to need quickened more and more. Suddenly, he gasped deeply and pulled her head hard into her, causing her to gag as his cock pushed against the back of her throat. She felt something warm and sticky and pulled back hard. He resisted, but she managed to pull free in time for a second spurt of his seed to land square on her cheek. She stared at him, the warm, bitter, salty taste in her mouth, the thick white goo sliding down her cheek. She watched his intense expression as his cock twitched and shot even more milky white liquid onto his shirt. Finally, he exhaled deeply and looked up at her. Frowning when he saw the liquid on her cheek, remembering that in the throes of ecstasy, he had felt something leave him. "Oh God! I'm so sorry, Kathy. I didn't know!" he said. She wiped the liquid off her cheek and stared at it, rolling her tongue around her mouth to clear out the taste of the stuff he had shot inside her. "What is it?" She asked finally. "I think it's sperm," Cal answered. "The book said that kids don't have it, but grown-up men shoot it when they climax. That's what the book called it, 'shoot it.' It goes into the woman and makes her pregnant." "Did you like it?" Kathy asked. "Oh man! It was fantastic!" Cal said enthusiastically. "It was kinda a letdown when you stopped, but it was great!" "Well, next time, maybe you can warn me, and I'll just use my hand," Kathy said. Cal smiled broadly as he stood and pulled up his pants. He was already looking forward to the next time. "Cal," Kathy said as they rested in each other's arms under a hot August sun. "We're moving." "Moving?" Cal asked, a thick knot of dread welling up in his stomach. "Dad got a promotion. My parents have a nice house picked out, but it's all the way across town. We won't even be in the same school!" "No," Cal said futilely. "There's got to be a way." "There isn't. They're putting up the For Sale sign tomorrow," Kathy said, the pain on her own face as deep and profound as on Cal's. Cal stared at the pretty girl across the restaurant, trying to figure out why she looked so familiar. There was something about the way her blue eyes flashed, something about the way she kept brushing her brown hair out of her eyes. She noticed his stares and would meet his gaze for a moment before turning back to laugh with her girlfriend. "Cal," David said, pushing Cal's shoulder to get his attention. "What's up? She's pretty, yes, but I doubt Jenny will be thrilled to find you ogling other girls." "Sorry," Cal said, turning back to his friend. "Something about her is familiar. I think I know her, but I can't really put a name to her face." "Well, I suppose there's no harm in asking," David said. "No," Cal said resolutely. "No harm at all." He walked over to the table and waited until she acknowledged him with a glance. "I'm sorry for staring, but I think I might know you. I'm Calvin Conner." "Cal?" The girl said excitedly. "I'm Kathy! God! I didn't even recognize you! Last time I saw you, you were a squeaky-voiced little boy. And now, look at you!" She said, the words coming in a rush as she bounded up to hug him. He returned the hug and pushed her back at arm's length to look at her. "Look at you!" He said. "You're absolutely beautiful!" She blushed and smiled at him, basking in the happiness of finding a long-lost friend. Suddenly, she remembered her manners. "Cal, this is Carol. Carol, this is Calvin Conner, a very old friend." Carol smiled and shook his hand. "Take my seat, Calvin," Carol insisted."I have to be running along anyway, and it looks like you two are going to reminisce a while." "Thanks," Calvin said as he sat down. Kathy leaned forward and said, "So tell me EVERYTHING," she insisted. Cal laughed. "Not much to say, really. I finished school and got accepted at State. I'm in my final year now, I'm just visiting friends and family for the holidays." "What's your major?" Kathy asked, leering so he'd catch the oft-used pickup line in the question. Cal laughed again. "Business, with a minor in English. And what have you been doing since your parents so evilly thwarted our plans?" "About the same. Finished school, I'm attending the city college now. I plan to be a teacher and get my certificate after I graduate," she answered. "How's the love life?" He winked. "If you mean have I found anyone like you, the answer is no. But I've looked. I've been going steady with a girl almost a year now. She's fun, exciting, interesting, and all that other mushy stuff. You?" "I'm seeing a guy pretty regularly, he's nice and cares for me, but the sex is pretty boring. I usually have a private party the next day if he actually manages to get me off. I actually had two last month, I guess he's getting better." The pause that followed was pregnant with anticipation as they stared at each other, memorizing the interesting new features of each other's face. "You've really grown up to be quite a looker," Cal said. Kathy smiled, the blush creeping back onto her cheeks. "And you the stud. Do you work out?" "Intramural football. There's a little weight training on the side," Cal answered. Kathy ran her finger around the rim of her glass, staring at the table as she asked, "You wouldn't be interested in maybe, well, for old times' sake, maybe--" She let the thought linger. "Your condom or mine," Calvin grinned. Kathy laughed. "Oh, Cal! Didn't you remember ANYTHING I told you about the right words at the right time?" "Oh, that's right, I should have said: 'I am a lowly slave to your radiant beauty. Ask, and I shall move a mountain so that you may better see the sunset. Ask, and I shall roll back the sea so that you may look for shells. Ask, and I will plant my lips upon thee and count myself most fortunate among all men.'" It had started as a joke, but somewhere in the middle, his voice grew serious and his eyes longing. Kathy felt herself panting under the heat and intensity of his words and gaze. She had to shake herself free before replying. "Yes. Something exactly like that." "David," Cal said. "Come again?" Kathy asked, confused. "I forgot the friend I was with! I'll be right back," Cal said. "Oh. The guy you were with. Go on, but don't keep me waiting too long. I might change my mind. We girls are fickle, you know," Kathy said mischievously. "Don't touch that dial!" Cal warned. "I'll be right back!" "Let me guess," David said after Cal returned. "You don't need a ride home." "That obvious, huh?" Cal asked. "You were fawning all over each other the moment the other girl left. You'd have to be blind not to see something between you. Go on, have fun," David said, making a shooing motion with his hand. "You're a real pal, Dave," Cal said. "See ya tomorrow." Then, glancing back at Kathy, added, "Well, maybe not tomorrow." David leaned over and punched Cal in the arm. "Bud, with a girl like that, maybe not next year." Calvin and Kathy made it as far as her Toyota before falling into a passionate embrace. The kiss didn't even start out tenderly, it went straight from passionate to aggressive as they rediscovered the comfortable road they had traveled that one magical summer so long ago. Cal lifted her up so she sat on the trunk of her car, and she wrapped her legs around him as they kissed. His hips ground against hers as they both responded to the naked desire that consumed them. "Where are we going?" Calvin asked, his chest heaving. "I've got an apartment, it's about twenty minutes away. I just drove down here to meet Carol on her lunch break. She works afternoons and evenings," Kathy replied, pulling him into another kiss. "Hmm," Calvin hummed, pulling back after a while. "Do you see that posh-looking hotel over to your left? I'd be willing to bet they've got a really nice room somewhere. Unless you really want to wait a half-hour or so before I ravish you." She grinned wickedly. "You're doing all right so far." "Yes," he said as he touched his forehead to hers. "But the elderly couple a few cars down have been staring at us like they wanted to go grab a hose or something." Kathy turned her head and saw the gray-haired couple staring at them indignantly a few cars down. "They're just jealous," she giggled. "If they watch, they deserve what they see." "Still, the wind's a bit nippy," Cal said. "And just think of all the fun we could have in a nice big bed, maybe a nice bottle of champagne on ice." He rolled his head playfully from side to side. She kicked her heels and squealed in delight. "You talked me into it. Your visa or mine?" "Mine, of course, silly," Calvin scolded. "Something's a guy's just gotta do." "Oh," Kathy smiled. "A gentleman." "My momma, my pappa, and a very dear friend raised me proper," Cal agreed. She slapped him on his butt playfully as she hopped down. On impulse, she glanced back at the disapproving couple and stuck out her tongue impishly at them before sliding behind the wheel. Ten minutes later, they stepped into the honeymoon suite at the ritzy hotel. "Wow," Kathy said as she took in the opulence of the room. "You musta won a lottery or something." Cal smiled as he watched her explore the room, noting with pleasure how her hips swayed lightly as she walked. "Just a good job that's paying my way through school and gives me a little spending money on the side." "Well, it's just perfect. Perfect!" She said as she bounced on the bed. "Yes, it is," Cal said, admiring her by the door. She stretched out her arms and smiled, "And what are you waiting for? I believe we started something in the parking lot." There was a knock on the door as she finished. Cal smiled smoothly and opened the door. He spoke to someone in the hall and turned around as the door closed with a silver tray with a bucket of champagne and two crystal goblets. "Waiting for this," Cal said. "Wouldn't do to get all hot and bothered again and get interrupted." He set the tray on the nightstand before sitting down on the bed beside her. "Now, where were we?" He asked. "You were just about to fuck me for the very first time," Kathy said. "Ah ah!" he replied, wagging his finger at her. "The right words, remember?" "You were about to sweep me off my feet and make mad passionate love to me," she answered as she fell into his arms. They broke the ensuing kiss only to hastily remove the layers of clothing that separated them from the union they both needed so much. Sweaters went flying, buttons were ripped, as bit by bit they got closer to that final moment existing only within the touch of each other. Finally, her exquisite body exposed to his hard, etched form, he thrust into her warm, moist womanhood, feeling it close around him as she lifted her legs up around him. They did not go gentle into that good night, they took as much as they gave; moving fast and furious under the silken sheets. Exploring this thing they had done with others but never each other as if for the first time, drinking in the powerful sensations like the sweetest wine after a long drought. They did not go silent into that good night, their moans of pleasure mingling with each other in a symphony of ecstasy. When her gasps and moans carried her into orgasm, she dragged him in behind her. His fevered thrusts, struggling to find yet a deeper purchase, met her upraised hips as her fingernails dug into his buttocks with each powerful thrust. When their moment had passed, he lingered inside her. Staring down into her radiant face, his contented, satisfied smile meeting hers, he kissed her lips lightly and said, "You complete me." "And you still lift me up to touch heaven itself," she replied as he poured the champagne into their glasses. "This is good stuff!" She said as she took her first sip. "Only the best," Cal agreed. She frowned into her glass. "What's the matter?" "It's just not fair," she complained. "Just when you and I start having some serious fun, life tears us apart. In a few days, you'll be back at state with your girlfriend, and I'll be back at city with Steve. And I swear to you I've never had sex like that in my life. Ever. Period." Cal dipped his finger in his glass and ran the moistened digit across her lips lightly. "Like two ships that pass in the night, or two thieves stealing time and pleasure where they can find it." She laughed. "You can stop being romantic now, we're both done after all." "Are we?" Cal asked. "Are you so sure about that?" "You couldn't possibly. I mean, so soon?" But she only had to glance down to see that they weren't done at all.

Section A

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11550.txt

JS3729

Love Conquers All

"Well, after high school ended, Wanda left for a two-week vacation with her folks. She was an only child, and they wanted her with them. She was not yet eighteen, and she felt that she should go. After she had been gone for about three days, I began to remember the earlier feelings I had had for Brian. This confused the hell out of me because I was now a confirmed lesbian, wasn't I, and all I should feel for the male race was scorn, right? Well, after two more days, I realized that I still had feelings for Brian and I at least owed it to myself to give him a last goodbye to reconcile my feelings for him. I knew that Wanda would be back at the end of the next week, and we would be going away together from this town. She had said we should go to San Francisco, at least we'd be accepted a little better there. Brian knocked on the door at this time. He had Little Lynda with him. They were both smiling. I invited them in. Little Lynda kissed both of her parents, and then went off to the living room to watch TV. Ingrid and Lynda would take turns checking on her. Lynda left to get her settled, and we told Brian what Lynda had been telling us and where she had left off. Brian picked up from there: "When I saw Lynda that night, it was the first time I talked with her for almost two years. I was in tears at seeing her, because I knew she was only here to tell me goodbye. Wanda had been bragging to the other girls that Lynda and her were going to get married by a lesbian priest and move to San Francisco. At least, I hoped she would let me kiss her goodbye." Lynda came back in the room. "She's OK, watching Looney Tunes. We'll be OK for at least an hour." I asked Brian how he'd found out about Wanda's plans if she had only told other girls. "She has a large mean streak. She deliberately told girls that she knew would blab it and in front of the whole school." Lynda by this time was furious again. She continued. "Deliberate cruelty is something I abhor. To see her tell the whole school our plans, instigated one of our most bitter fights. As usual, I caved in to her and told her it was my fault for overreacting." I vaguely remember this scene, but this was during the time I had been with Ingrid, and Wanda was not on my mind as much. Lynda continued: "At this time, the last thing I wanted to do was kiss him goodbye - he was a man, the enemy! However, Brian had other ideas, thank God!" Brian said "I kissed her when I opened the door and held it as long as I could, in the hope that maybe it would stir something." Lynda: "Amazing how something as simple as a kiss can seem so right, but after the kiss, instead of screaming and yelling and running out of there like I thought would, I stood my ground and I actually asked Brian for another one." Brian: "I was dumbfounded - I almost didn't kiss her again because I didn't believe what I was hearing. But never let it be said that I can't think in a crisis. I kissed her fully this time, wrapping my arms around her because I did not want to let her go." I interjected here: "I think I can figure out Lynda's reaction to the first kiss." Lynda and Brian (and Ingrid, I guess) both wanted to know what I thought. "Remember when I told you about hypnosis? Well, the farther away the subject is from the hypnotist, the weaker the hypnosis becomes. That is why a good hypnotist is constantly reinforcing the hypnosis. When Wanda left, and I am sure she did not want to leave, the hypnosis had a small chance to wear off. Brian, when you kissed Lynda the first time, it reactivated her love for you, the second kiss should just have reinforced it more. Did it, Lynda?" "Did it ever, I was back in love with Brian again, and I began to feel a hatred for Wanda. I did not understand it then, but I think I do now. As long as Wanda was around, I avoided Brian because Wanda had told me to, because it would just hurt him, and I did not really want to hurt him, did I. Thinking it over now, I can see how stupid that was - Brian loved me, not seeing me at all would hurt him more than us just remaining friends." Brian spoke: "I could never have remained just friends with you, Lynda, I love you too much, it would have killed me." Lynda: "I know, it would have done the same for me. Anyway, to continue the story, two days later, we made love for the first time in his house. His parents were both home, but they were beaming and as happy as I had ever seen them. They even knew we were meant to be together. Why couldn't I see it sooner?" She was in tears, and so was Ingrid. Brian picked up again. "When we finally made love for the first time, I was on Cloud 9 and I was as happy as I had been in nearly five years, until I realized that Lynda was leaving in less than a week and I would never see her again. That just rebroke my heart over again. I started crying and Lynda got mad." Lynda: "I thought he was rejecting me and I was furious with myself for letting myself fall in love again. I had the good sense to ask why he was crying, though." Brian: "I told her the truth, that she was leaving in less than a week and I would never see her again, and I couldn't take it. I did not want to lose you again." Lynda: "You wouldn't have lost me. When I heard Brian's words, I knew I couldn't go with Wanda. I was not yet ready to believe that I did not love Wanda, but I also knew I could not leave Brian, that would have made me very sad." "The next few days, we began to rediscover each other and I began to understand that I did not really love Wanda, but I was not sure I loved Brian enough to break away from her." Brian: "I tried my best to show Lynda how much I really cared for her and I tried to be fair with her about her feelings for Wanda. But I had always hated the bitch, and I couldn't talk to anybody about it. The only other two people I was close to - Lynda and Geo were both in love with her. How could I make you see what she really was?" I spoke: "Now I know why she made me love her. I had not really understood that before, but now it makes sense. Brian, you only really had two people that you could really trust other than Lynda, me and Ingrid, and Ingrid had left for Denmark the previous month. Wanda had to make me love her, otherwise we would have figured out what she was really up to. Boy, it feels really rotten to be used and get absolutely nothing out of it but heartbreak and pain." I turned to Ingrid: "Honey, if I had realized what Wanda was up to back then, I would have proposed to you before you left for home. I would not have been able to bear being apart from you." Ingrid started crying, and said through her tears "I loved you from the first night we were together. When you let me go back home, I was crushed. I could not understand why you let me go. That is why when I heard from Lynda that you had settled back in town, I took the instructor's job here in town - to see if I could get back together with the one man I had loved. When you saw me and did not recognize me (but your cock did), I thought it was a lost cause, until you called my name - I could hear in your voice that you still cared. I could also see that you still loved Wanda, and I was afraid that you still loved her more than you loved me." Wow - for Ingrid that was like a graduation speech, she never said that many words at once. Now it was my and Ingrid's turn to be comforted by Brian and Lynda. When I could speak again: "Ingrid, darling, to be perfectly honest, at that moment I did love Wanda more than you, until we kissed, and then Wanda did not seem so pretty anymore. I guess strong emotions can cancel out the hypnosis. As the night went on and I began to hear what Wanda was really like, the only feelings I had left for her are the ones I have now - extreme hatred. I fell back in love with you before that night was over." Ingrid and I must have kissed for five minutes.I happened to look at Lynda and Brian, and they were doing the same thing. Lynda left to check on Little Lynda, and soon returned. Ingrid asked them to continue their reunite story. Chapter Ten ******************************************************************** Lynda: "Wanda came back and immediately knew something was wrong. I tried to hide it and lie, but she knew that I had rediscovered Brian, and she was furious with me, and she was even more furious with Brian." Brian: "She called me up that night and called me every name in the book and a few I had never heard before. She said that I hope you enjoyed fucking Lynda, because I was never going to see her again. She then hung up. The next day, both her and Lynda were gone." That surprised both Ingrid and me. I asked: "Gone? I thought you would not have been able to leave, Lynda." Lynda: "When she came back, she must have reapplied the hypnosis even stronger, because I completely forgot about Brian again, but at least this time, I no longer hated the male race. I guess she did not think it necessary to reapply that. Thank God, she did or I would still be living with her in San Francisco and a four-year-old girl and a soon-to-be-born baby would have never happened." As it was, though, because I could now tolerate the male race, I began to notice a few things about myself that I had not noticed or cared about before. One was that I had large boobs and that could get me almost anything I wanted from a man if I played my cards right. Wanda also used this trick too, but it did not work as well, because she could not really stand to get close enough to a man to get what she really wanted." I chirped in "Take it from a professional boob fancier, I know I would have given you anything you had asked for." I knew this would get a response out of Ingrid, but I was not prepared for Brian and Lynda's responses. Ingrid pulled up her shirt (she never wore a bra at home -she knew I loved her boobs and she loved showing them off to me) "Are these as good, can I have my Mercedes now" she said giggling. "Well, what can I sell to get that Mercedes for you dear, hmm - Wait, I don't have to sell anything - look I have a Mercedes for you - I went upstairs and got the Mercedes Gull Wing Matchbox toy car from my collection and made a big deal of presenting it to her. "Aw, I wanted it in white, honey" laughed Ingrid. I was prepared - I produced one of those small bottles of model paint and prepared to paint the model white. Ingrid stopped me because she knew I loved my Matchbox collection and did not want me to deface one of my models. Lynda and Brian were both in hysterics and Brian piped up: "Let's see what was causing all that ruckus in San Francisco, baby" Now remember that Lynda was pregnant (quite pregnant) at this time and gave Brian a look that would cut diamond, but she pulled up her sweater anyway. Amazingly she was also not wearing a bra, and her big titties just sort of jiggled out. I had never seen Lynda's boobs before (though it was one of my fondest fantasies) and I was staring with my mouth open. Brian, on the other hand, was doing the same staring at Ingrid who had not pulled her top back down yet. There were two grown men reduced to gibbering idiots and both ladies could stand it no longer and broke out laughing. Ingrid thumped me on the arm (just about hard enough to disturb a flea) and Lynda did the same thing to Brian. Both ladies redressed themselves (Aw!) and Lynda continued with the story. "The other thing I had going for me was my pussy. I could turn strong-willed and powerful men into simpering idiots, like Ingrid and I just did here, just by using those two attributes." Ingrid was still laughing and Brian made the comment that her legs were not too shabby, either. I agreed with him. "Thanks guys - you really know how to make a fat old lady feel good." I had to say "Fat old lady, where is there a fat old lady - all I see are two lovely women, one of whom is carrying another wonderful person." That earned me a kiss from Ingrid, a "You betcha" from Brian, and the most loving smile I have ever seen on a pregnant woman. Lynda continued: "I am thoroughly ashamed of this now, but I used my body to set Wanda and I up quite comfortably in San Francisco. Since Wanda would never actually fuck a guy, I had to do all the dirty work in that department. I think that is why she did not reapply the hating males hypnosis. About a week after we settled into San Francisco, I met Brian again." Brian took over: "I knew that I had to see Lynda again, I knew she still loved me, and I had to make her see that again. I asked some friends I knew that were going to San Francisco to try to find Lynda and Wanda for me. It wasn't difficult, they had made quite a name for themselves in both the lesbian and the straight circles. They called at the end of the week and gave me the address where Lynda and Wanda were staying. When I got there, I couldn't believe my eyes - they were staying in the penthouse of one of the swankiest hotels in San Francisco. How did they ever afford that? Lynda: "It is amazing what pussy will buy. It is also amazing that I was never raped or that Wanda was never attacked." I offered "Maybe she used hypnosis to ensure your safety." Lynda: "You are probably right, that did not occur to me. Anyway, I was left a note by Wanda to meet this big spender in his office for a chat. He had promised Wanda that he would move her into her own even larger place, and that he would send a steady stream of girls for her enjoyment." Brian: "I knew that bitch well enough to know that she could not resist that offer. All I asked in return, was Lynda to myself for a week. I figured that if I couldn't reverse Wanda's hold on her in a week, I had no hope." Lynda: "I really wanted to do this, because I was starting to like my little escapades with all the men. That should have told me something, but it didn't. How could I be a contented lesbian and still enjoy fucking men? Well, when I first saw Brian, Wanda's programming took over and I began screaming at him. All he did was take me in his arms, with me fighting every step of the way, and kiss me. That caused me to stop fighting, and then he kissed me again. I began to respond to him, but not as would if I was in love with him, but as a girl who wants to get fucked. At that moment, I very much wanted to get fucked, and Brian would do just fine." Brian: "I began to worry after the second kiss had no real effect other than she looking at me as if to say "Do you want to fuck me?" Actually, no I did not want to fuck her, I wanted to take her home, marry her and then make love to her on our honeymoon." Lynda: "After a few minutes, the love started to fight the programming and I was in turmoil. I sat down on the nearest couch and looked up at Brian with a lost look on my face. I knew that there was something about him, but I did not know what. Then he kissed me again." Brian: "The third kiss was like the first kiss back while Wanda was away. I immediately applied the fourth kiss, and I had my Lynda back. A very angry Lynda, I might add." Lynda: "You're damned right I was angry - I was angry with myself for ever getting hooked up with Wanda again. Brian had finally awakened me to what Wanda truly was. This time I kissed Brian and I used tongue to let him know I was back, and I wouldn't leave this time. I think we were screwing within ten minutes and we must have screwed for an hour. Brian: "I proposed before the end of day, and she accepted". Lynda: "I knew that I could not ever see Wanda again, or she would take me back again. I did not know how powerful her hypnosis really was." Brian: "We left that night, went home and were married within a week. Wanda showed up two days later. Luckily we were on our honeymoon, and we had told our parents not to tell anyone where we were. Lynda: "Wanda called every place she could think of to try to find us, but we were smart. We were staying in town, right under her nose, in fact. We were staying at Geo's house and his parents were watchdogs for us with regards to Wanda." This was news to me - my parents had never told me. I was in college at the time. "Why would my parents not tell me? I asked Lynda and Brian. Brian: "We knew you were still under Wanda's influence and you would lead her right to us." They were absolutely right, I would have done it without a thought. I had been used again. How could I have ever thought I could love someone so evil?

mf, MF, ff, mc, rom, ts

9+10/12

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11366.txt

ShvedJerry@aol.com

rp sex slave chaper 2

"Are you ready?" I could only nod because my throat was too dry to talk. Mistress Pamela and I were sitting in my car in front of a small house in Venice Beach. We got out of the car and walked to the door. I walked behind my mistress as her hard tan ass swayed in her skintight leather skirt. It was so tight that it rode up and showed the bottom of her hard ass cheeks. Her long leather boots went up to her firm thighs. The only other item of clothing on her gorgeous body was a leather vest that did not even cover her hard high tits. All I was allowed to wear was my leather cock and ball harness. My prick was red and throbbing as it had been for half an hour. All the way over was torture in fear that we would be stopped or have an accident. How could I explain to a cop that my mistress made me drive naked at night? She said that slaves were not worthy of hiding their pitiful bodies. Every stoplight was an ordeal of staring straight ahead and not looking at the people next to us. I knew that several people had gotten a look into my car and knew something was odd. A barechested man with a drop-dead blonde in leather would draw some stares. Thankful that it was a dark street, I hurried to the door as Mistress Pamela knocked on the door. It was opened by a small blonde wearing a chain and leather vest that draped over small tan tits. Below her waist, a leather g-string was pulled up into her crotch. It was so tight that the crease showed. She looked at me and gave a small smile, then turned to Pamela and said "Looks like you have a new subject here." "Yes, I think that with the right training, we can turn him into something worthy of serving me." I was grateful that we were finally inside the house but was still very nervous as we walked to a back bedroom with a massage table. On the nightstand next to the table was a tray with the instruments that gave away the purpose of our visit. "Get on the table," Pamela ordered, and I obeyed. The little blonde, whose name was Arcy, took cotton swabs and rubbed alcohol over my hard nipples. The same treatment was given to my straining cock. She then went to the tray and got the long steel probe. "This is going to hurt somewhat, but I think you can handle it," Arcy told me as she pushed me back on the table. Pinching my nipple up to a hard knot, she placed the tip of the probe against the skin and gave a sudden push. A jolt of pain that felt like an electric shock went through my body. Quickly she reached over and took a silver stud and pushed it through the new hole in my nipple. As I caught my breath, Pamela reached down to fondle my balls. "Keep it hard, slave, or you'll get it when we get home." By now Arcy was on the other side of the table and was bunching up my other nipple. Bracing myself, I felt the burning pain again and the coldness of the stud that followed. "One more to go, lover," she whispered to me and went to the area below my waist. I noticed her nipples were now pointed and hard. Hanging from the right nipple was a silver miniature handcuff. Her navel held a gold stud. "I hope you know what you're doing," I told her. "Relax, stud, look at this," she replied. With a quick motion, she pulled her g-string off and pushed my head to the side. I was staring at a smooth shaven cunt with five silver rings protruding from her puffy, pussy lips. "Now let's get this over, and we can have some fun." Pinching the flesh right below the head of my cock, she took the probe and with a quick motion gave a short push. Actually, this did not feel as bad as the nipples, and the stud was soon in. "Well done," the mistress said. "Now in a few weeks, he will be perfect." Pamela told the blonde, "You do good work, just like you did to me." I looked down to see what my now pierced cock looked like. Now that my balls and cock were shaved like Mistress Pamela demanded, the stud was quite visible. I also saw the silver nipple rings that were now a permanent part of my body. Arcy was putting away her things, and I slid off the table. "You can't do anything for a few weeks, and you have to keep that area sterile." "Here are some pain pills if you need them." "You won't be much good to me for a while, will you, slave?" asked Pamela. "Who's going to take care of me now?" my mistress said. "Watching this has really got my pussy dripping." "Well, Pam, perhaps I can help you," said the blonde. When I saw the look on their faces, I knew that they had enjoyed each other before. Pamela didn't hesitate in removing her vest and unzipping her skirt. They came together, and their tongues snaked into the other's mouth. Hands found their way down to the fine asses in front of me and probed deep. Fingers were pulling and stretching pussy lips, and the smell of sex grew in the room. Their breasts rubbed against each other, and the little handcuffs were pushed and pulled by the breasts. They slid down to the floor and turned in the classic 69 position. Arcy took her hands and pulled open the bare pussy of my mistress before inserting her tongue as far as she could get it. Pamela was lapping at Arcy's hot pussy like a cat at a saucer. Her tongue ran from the clit down to the junction of the ass. The rings in their pussies were also now being tugged by white teeth. It looked like it would hurt, but to them, it was one more way of receiving pleasure. This was some very serious pussy eating, and one inspired the other to go deeper and faster. In spite of the pain of my new studs, drops of cum were appearing at the slit of my cock. I had my hands on my balls and was stroking the head of my purple organ. As the blonde's tongue snaked out to nibble on Pamela's clit, I could see that even her tongue had not escaped the piercing tool. A silver ball was through the tongue and was now running on Pamela's red and swollen clit. Both of them now started to moan and cry out. "Fuck my pussy, eat my pussy," they cried. Their backs were arching, and thighs were flexing as they attempted to fuck the other's tongues and lips. My dick could not take this anymore and began to twitch, and I felt the cum shooting onto my hand. The action on the floor was now reaching its climax, and the pants and moans came to a head. Both of these pierced ladies slumped against the others' thighs but not without a few final licks of cunt. Pamela looked up at me and smiled. "Well, slave, did you enjoy that?" "Do you see how pussy should be eaten?" "Maybe next time you can fuck Arcy." As we walked back to the car, I felt the throbbing in my nipples and dick and was hoped that I was now the property of Mistress Pamela. I wondered how many more trials I had to go through before this would be true.

Chapter 2

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/9619.txt

Spunk N. Wagnels

Not With My Daughter!

"Brenda, Honey, about last night," Marnie started to say. "No need, Mom. I am an adult, and I can handle it. Just keep your door closed when you guys are getting kinky, okay? Geesh. It's embarrassing," Brenda said, while fixing herself some breakfast. "So, what did you learn about my portfolio modeling pictures? Jeff was no help." "Well, I found out Kenneth and Maggie's last name, Brannon, and I know where to find them. I'm meeting them tonight to look the photos over," Marnie told her daughter. "What time do we go?" Brenda asked presumptively. "Oh Honey, it is at a bar, they won't let you in. I'll have to get them for you," Marnie said apologetically. "What time will you be back with them, then?" Brenda asked, put out. "I'll be back just as soon as I can, Dear," Marnie said, then thought, "I hope they have the sense to also bring Brenda's pictures, she'll be heartbroken if I don't come back with something for her to see. Well, there goes any fun I might have there, I can't stay out too long or it would look suspicious. I feel much better today. I think I could even do it with Roger, or someone tonight. Oh, what are you thinking? What has this come to? How could you be planning ahead to do it with someone else besides your own husband, just like that. You'd better check your priorities and figure out who you are, Missy, before it is too late. Oh, god, how do I turn off these thoughts? I can read it now, 'Pussy Drives Housewife Insane'. I've got to get out of here today, do something different, get my mind off of my next orgasm and get centered." Marnie ranted in her head. "Maybe I can get together with some of the gals today," Marnie thought as she picked up the phone. "Hi Barb. What are you doing today?" "Hi, Marnie. I haven't heard much from you lately. I've been meaning to call. There was this party I was supposed to go to today and invite a friend. Well, I was going to invite you, but I've been too chicken to go myself, so I haven't told you about it," her friend on the phone said. "What kind of party is it?" Marnie quizzed. "I'm too embarrassed to say, really," her friend said. "It's me. How can you be too embarrassed to tell me?" Marnie challenged. "Well, I thought you'd think less of me if I told you I was even thinking of going. It is a party to sell lingerie and things to heat up your marriage. It's the 'Sensual EXtras for You' group, you know, 'SEXY', and I hear they have a pretty daring time at these parties. I just thought it would be too embarrassing for both of us, am I right?" she asked. "Heat up your marriage, huh," Marnie thought out loud. "What time is it at, I think we should give it a try." "I can't believe you are saying this. We'll probably have to get naked to try things on. Doesn't that bother you? What if they ask us to try things out? I don't think I can," Barb said incredulously. "Come on, Barb, it is just us women, right? We've seen each other naked at the club in the locker room. It will be a chance for us to come out of our shells. Face it, we're about to enter our forties, and there is a whole lot of living to do before we're put out to pasture. Now where is it and when?" Marnie said resolutely. "I'll pick you up at one then. The invitation said there would be swimming, so bring a suit. Are you sure about this?" Barb said. "I'll be ready at one. Bye." Marnie busied herself until Barb arrived. She had a suit on under her sun dress and was looking forward to the sales display. When they got to the party, it was at a big house and many more people were in attendance than either of them anticipated. Marnie guessed the SEXY Group was a much bigger pull than the old Tupperware Group, these days. Marnie knew a few of the ladies there, but was the most familiar with Barb. There was mingling, snacking, and exploring the ground floor and pool area for about forty-five minutes before the SEXY people were introduced. As the tightly scripted presentation got underway, there were a few silly games, designed to get the ladies to lighten up, build camaraderie, and to get into a more carefree state. During an overview of what they could expect, Marnie learned that swimwear, lingerie, marital aids, bondage resources, and, to her shock, body piercing were all available to them today, or on a follow-up basis. The first presentations were of swimwear. Two models wheeled in a rack of suits and two male lifeguard types brought in a trunk. The two models stayed and the two hunks disappeared into another room, sending the ladies in attendance to shifting in their seats and talking for a moment at the brief presence of the men. The models held up suits to their bodies for the ladies to admire. They took off tops and mixed and matched bottoms right there, without going for cover. They both had small rings in their nipples, which created a stir among the ladies when these adornments were being noticed. The ladies were instructed to come up and pick out a suit they would like to try. Different sizes were available in the trunks for each style. It looked like a feeding frenzy as the attendees pushed and pawed their way to the different suit combinations. They were instructed to try them on and try them out in the pool. A few of the women, Marnie and Barb included, started to look outside of the room for a place to change, but when they saw that most of the women changed right in the room like the models did, they looked at each other, shrugged their shoulders, and changed in the back of the room with everyone else. Then it was off to the pool. Each lady had picked out a suit that was one or more notches more daring than they would imagine wearing in public, to see what it would be like. Ladies wore thongs for the first time, they wore bikinis that were nothing more than three triangle patches, and they wore suits that went from their waist down across their crotch up their abdomen as strings, and with thin patches across their nipples, tying around their necks at the top. They explored how they looked, how it felt, and how they might have to move, sit, and stand if they ever were to wear these items in a public setting. Most of the ladies put a suit aside to buy whether they would ever dare to wear them or not. Back in the room, the ladies sat in varying stages of undress as the SEXY Group prepared to present the lingerie selections. Barb and Marnie decided to just wear their dresses without anything else on underneath. Barb was less freaked out by this time and began to notice that Marnie didn't have much of a tan line, and asked, "Marn, I notice some fresh color in places the sun isn't supposed to shine. What's up?" "Oh, you know those tanning salons can do wonders," Marnie replied. "I could never get anything but a burn from those places, besides aren't you supposed to wear a suit there?" Barb asked. "They're private, no one knows," Marnie said. "Are you going to get something slinky for George to enjoy?" "I don't know, are you?" Barb asked. "Barb, you remind me of me, the old me. I am changing. I've decided to do new more daring things, to seize the moment, make some memories, take some risks, be a little naughty. We aren't getting any younger. My Brenda and your Susan have more daring in each of them than you and I put together. They are probably going to live more in the next ten years than we would for the rest of our lives, if we don't do something about it. We've got to do things we never thought we would do, create some memories we can look back on, joke about, relive in our minds, when our bodies can no longer go along with it. Let's live a little. This here party is a start. What do you say?"Marnie asked enthusiastically. "Gosh Marn, you're almost scaring me. I hear what you are saying, but I thought we had really good lives. George and Roger love us, we have exceptional kids, and we lead solid moral lives we can be proud of. What you are talking about could shake that up, and then where would we be?" Barb asked concerned. "Look, this is the kind of experience here, where you can explore and try pushing out your envelope of comfort in safety, and try it on for size. Then if you don't feel like you can handle it, you leave it here, and no regrets. Think about it. I think that number there would look good on you and get Good Old George saluting, what do you think?" Marnie said like a big sister. "Golly Marnie, I never knew this side of you. I'll give it a try, at least as far as I can." Barb said. "That's the spirit." Marnie said. During the lingerie portion of the presentation, the models changed into the different fashions. Ladies from the audience were asked to come up and be models. The audience "ooohed" and "aaahhed", hooted and hollered, and applauded their support for the non-professionals modeling, as well as for the garments themselves. When Barb was picked to go up, she tried to get out of it, until Marnie almost embarrassed her into doing it. Almost everyone was modeling at some point, but not Marnie. She was almost ready to jump up and volunteer. When everyone was wearing some favorite, the presentation moved to marital aids. The SEXY Group models walked among the audience with dildos, butt plugs, vibrators, lotions that lubricated, heated up, desensitized, or could be eaten, while the presenter with the microphone explained their uses. The presentation moved seamlessly to leather goods. There were costumes the models put on, restraints, whips, straps, and for the men in their lives, out came the lifeguard types, naked except for the straps, collars, chains, and cuffs they adorned. The ladies were shocked, and many started to cover themselves for modesty, until they realized that in sheer numbers, they were anonymous, almost invisible to the men. Barb and another woman were picked to come up and learn how cock and ball harnesses worked. Barb definitely wanted out of this demonstration, but Marnie physically pushed her forward, and the momentum of her movement and the audience brought her to center stage with the other woman. With instruction from the models, the ladies roughly applied the items. Barb was too embarrassed to look much at what she was feeling. When the harnesses were in place, leashes were attached to rings at the bottom of the ball spreader parts, and the two ladies were encouraged to lead the men through the crowd for a closer look. When Barb, brought her male model by Marnie, she leaned over and whispered, "Thanks for the push, this really is fun." Marnie felt a mixture of pride at converting her friend to enjoying herself, but also felt a little left behind. She was passed over for the rest of the leather items, as well. Then the presenter announced, "Now Ladies, for the newest and latest craze, we at the SEXY Group are now offering body piercing. The most popular place is through the nipples, but our licensed experts can apply jewelry to almost any part of the body. That's right, any part. Now while your imaginations take you places on your body, we have a lucky guest sitting in seat number twenty-three, who will be given a piercing of their choice, complete with the jewelry, right here, so we can demonstrate our patented drug-free, painless process for you today. Everybody look under your seat for your number. Since most of the women had not anticipated this service even being offered, many didn't even look. Barb looked and didn't have it. She was dying to know what Marnie's number was. "Well, aren't you going to even check?" She said to Marnie. "How daring is it to just check?" Marnie was shamed into checking. She quickly sat back down. "Well, let me see that." Barb insisted. She looked. "We have the winner here." She shouted, pointing at Marnie. Marnie tried to wave off the attention. A model came down the aisle to escort her to the front. "Come on." Barb goaded. "Where is that adventuring spirit you were preaching about?" The lady on the P.A. said, "Congratulations. This is worth, with the jewelry, six hundred dollars." Everyone applauded. When she saw hesitation, "I assure you our process is painless." When there was further hesitation, she said, "You really have nothing to lose, because you can leave the jewelry out and it heals over in a very short period of time." All eyes were upon her. "Here's a memory. Just think how excited Roger will be when he sees a new thing to play with on you. Live a little while you are still in your thirties girl. This would qualify as a 'little naughty'. Why not practice what you preach." Barb said, pouring it on thickly. Marnie lost the will to protest, but was not motivated to proceed. Barb pulled her up by the arm and gave her arm to the model who walked her dazed to the front of the room. "Here, we just have something for you to sign first, and we will demonstrate the painless procedure, exclusive to SEXY Group Productions. Now where would you like to have it done?" Marnie just looked blankly at the M.C. and then at Barb, who looked on with encouragement. "Well, let me recommend your nipples then. You have very beautiful breasts, doesn't she ladies?" There was applause, while Marnie cupped the ends of her breasts, as if they already hurt from piercing. "Here, we'll put these hypoallergenic rings in today, and in a couple of days, you can switch to your choice of ringed or studded jewelry here." Marnie still didn't respond and continued to hold the ends of her breasts. "Well, you can choose your favorites right before you leave today. Now we are going to have you spend a few minutes with Dr. Powers, and then you will return here for the painless procedure." Marnie was led into another room. The presenter announced to the remaining ladies that the drug-free procedure was a revolutionary form of hypnosis. She explained that when Marnie returned, she would be aware of everything happening, but would feel nothing she didn't want to feel. Marnie was led back in and was asked to be seated on a stool facing the audience. She sat with her hands together on her lap, her knees together, and her feet on a rung of the stool. She looked nervous, and stared at Barb for support. Dr. Powers said, "Let's have some fun." Marnie's eyes closed and her head dropped down, but her body stayed upright. Then Dr. Powers said, "Marnie, open your eyes and watch the fun of getting your nipples pierced." Marnie opened her eyes and raised her head a little, but was now looking at her breasts. "Marnie, we will now take off this top." And the teddy nightie she was wearing was pulled off her head. "Now Marnie, it will be best if you keep your nipples erect for this." The crowd watched in awe as her nipples grew out to their maximum size before their eyes. A lady in a nurse's outfit brought out a tray and placed it next to Marnie on her left side. Then she stood in front of Marnie, effectively blocking the view of her procedure from the curious eyes. Just as the audience began to smell rubbing alcohol, the nurse backed away and Marnie was sitting there staring at pierced nipples with stainless steel rings through them, and a smile on her face. "Marnie," Dr. Powers was saying, "maybe you'd like to walk around the audience slowly to show off your new rings." Marnie got up and walked along the front row in her see-through panties from the nightie set, shrugging her shoulders to squeeze her breasts out for everyone to see. There were lots of comments pro and con, but many were admiring her breasts and body as much as the rings. When she got to Barb, Barb was amazed, "Oh my god, you did it. You really did it. I never thought you would go through with it." Marnie smiled. "Do you like them?" She asked Barb. "I don't know what to think. My god, I can't believe you really went through with it." She answered. As Marnie was finishing showing everyone as much as they wanted to see about her piercing, the presentation wound down to the basic shopping and "thank you's" for attending. Two other women had piercings done there and a couple more made appointments for later. Marnie and Susan packed up their goodies, Marnie ended up choosing a ring set with a gemstone threaded through by the ring. Barb kept saying all the way to Marnie's house, that she couldn't believe that Marnie went through with it. By the time Marnie was home, it dawned on her to request, "Please don't say anything to anyone about this, okay?" "Okay Marn. Wow you sure were brave." "You need to promise me." "Okay, I promise. It will be tough. This is juicy, but I value our friendship more, and besides, I owe you. That was one of the most fun times I can remember." They hugged good bye. "By the way, it didn't hurt a bit." Marnie said, as she started to wave good bye. Once inside, Marnie headed for the bathroom upstairs to look at her new adornments. She put her packages on the bed and headed for the mirror with the care instructions in hand. When her dress was off, she stared at herself in the mirror. It was as if she were looking at a different person other than herself. "How could this person do something like that? Doesn't it hurt? What does she think others think about it? They sure are curious." Marnie was thinking. "Hey dummy, it's you. You've got to explain this to Roger, maybe someday to Brenda. What kind of example is this for Brenda?" She scolded in her head. "So what's the big deal. How different is it from my pierced ears, really? At any time I can take them out, and no one would ever be the wiser. Why don't you just see what Roger says?"Heck, you can say it is part of your birthday present to him, then if he is grossed out or disappointed in you, you just take them out, and you'll get credit for trying. That's it. That's the ticket." Marnie resolved as she put her things away so they wouldn't be seen accidentally. "Now, what to wear. I guess a sweatshirt would hide them." She thought as she pulled a sweatshirt on over her head. "Oh, wow, the material inside is way too sensuous for my nipples, as they are right now. I'd better put on a tee shirt first. Whew!" She discovered. The piercing was a fun little secret to have from her family that evening at dinner. Marnie's arousal was running high, and she needed to change her shorts before heading out to "Shareholders" to meet up with the Brannons. Roger was not too happy about letting her out again for the evening, but relented when she said she would give him a preview of one of her surprises that night. It was a different experience at the door this time. The doorman recognized her from the night before. She was immediately let in with smiles when she indicated that she was now a member. After signing a register and receiving her ID bracelet for the servers to run her tab on, she found out that the Brannons had not arrived yet. She couldn't remember Bill and Susan's last name, so she was faced with the dilemma of waiting for them in the lobby or going on in and waiting inside. Marnie waited in the lobby for about fifteen minutes, looking closely at the artwork, furnishings, and appointments. It was a little too tiresome waiting there, so she decided to go on in. She encountered the same locker room attendant as the night before. "Nice to see you again," she said. "Please let me know if there is anything I can do to assist you." "Thank you," Marnie said. "Do you think there is any hydrogen peroxide I could use?" "I'll check for you, Ma'am," the attendant said, as she left for the makeup area. "I don't see any, but here is some alcohol, if that would work," she said, handing it to Marnie, then looking at her nipples. "I hope you don't mind my asking, but do those hurt?" "Oh, these things," Marnie said, trying to act nonchalant, "they haven't hurt at all, but now they are starting to itch," she said with a scrunched-up face, emphasizing the discomfort. "Maybe that's a sign of healing," the attendant offered. "Probably so, well I guess I'll go out and wait for the party I am meeting out there. Do you know Maggie Brannon?" Marnie asked. "Yes, Ma'am, I do. Nice lady." "I'm meeting her and her husband here tonight. I'd consider it a favor if you'd tell her I'm here when you see her." "Yes, Ma'am, I sure will. Have a good time," the attendant said as Marnie left the locker room out to the club, waving thanks and goodbye. This time was different. Aside from the fact that Marnie was walking along the path with reddened nipples with rings attached, she was walking with no particular destination in mind. There was nobody out in the club she knew, and she was a married woman who shouldn't accept advances from other "Shareholders" there. Somehow, this was scarier than the first time the night before. "What should I do if I'm offered a drink? It will be on my tab. What do I do if somebody invites me to join them before I run into the Brannons?" Marnie worried in her head. "I should sit down in the closest place to the dressing rooms so I don't miss them," she figured. Marnie walked the path and looked in each alcove to find an unoccupied one, and for one that would have a good viewpoint. The club was fairly busy as she made it to the hot tub spa before finding an appropriate place to set herself down. There were two couples in the tub. Marnie thought it would be very difficult for the Brannons to get past her unnoticed if she were to hang out there, so she sat on the edge and dangled her feet into the water. One of the ladies worked her way over to Marnie's side to get a better look at her nipple rings. Then the other lady followed suit at her other side. The two men slid around next to their ladies, so Marnie was surrounded by the couples. "Does that hurt?" the lady on her right asked. "I've been thinking about getting it done myself." "No, the way they did it, it didn't hurt at all. It does itch a bit tonight, though, I just got them done. Do you like them?" Marnie asked. "Oh yes," both ladies responded in turn. "I think they are very sexy, myself," the lady on her left added. The men nodded and smiled. Before the conversation could get rolling, a lady server came up with the drink of the evening, Mai Tais. "Please have one on us," the man on her left said. "No, thank you, I think I'll wait for the rest of my party to show up," Marnie said. "Please, we insist. You can nurse it until your friends appear, and you can sit with us until they do," the man said again, as he held his wrist band up for the server to take down his ID number. The server handed her one, and Marnie ended up taking it. Each person took one. Then the man said, "Give her ten for me, if you will, since you are already out of the pool." Marnie felt a little bit conned. "This is a woman, one of you men should get up here and do her," she thought to herself. The server stood next to her with her legs spread and eyes closed, waiting for her tip. Marnie turned to look up at her, but all Marnie noticed was a neatly trimmed cunt staring her in the face, from her vantage point. "We'll opt for the 'dildo option,' Ma'am," the man said, meaning that she still would put a dollar down on his tab for every stroke she received, and she still ran the same risk of wiping the tab clean if she came before the end of the strokes, but instead of being vested in her tip at twenty-five strokes per tab, the 'dildo option' made her vested at fifteen strokes while doubling the tip to two dollars for every stroke. The server produced the dildo, which was strapped to the bottom of her tray, and started to hand it to the man who called for the option. When he pointed to Marnie, she redirected it to Marnie, put the tray down to her left, and bent forward, sticking her rear and cunt into Marnie's face, waiting. Marnie had only seen a dildo in the form of a white plastic vibrating massager until earlier today. This one looked like an anatomically correct penis with the front half of a scrotum attached at the base acting as a stop. Beyond this was a handle. To the handle, a tube of K-Y Jelly was attached by a rubber band turned back on itself a couple of times. Marnie took the dildo gingerly in her hands, looked at it as if she had never seen one before, undid the rubber band, and squeezed some K-Y onto the dildo, while the server waited patiently for her tip. Marnie took her left leg out of the pool so she could turn toward her and use the dildo in her right hand. She looked at everyone to be sure she should proceed and put it at the server's cunt lips. She held it there for a couple of seconds, rallying her internal resources to venture into this new territory. The server unconsciously swayed back a little to help it in. Marnie then slid it in slowly and gently. She looked back at everyone for approval and then pulled it out until just the tip was in. Then she heard the quartet say in unison, "One." She slowly slid it back in and slowly pulled it out a couple of more times, and the lady was starting to sweat in agony over Marnie's slow pace. "Six," "seven," and "eight," Marnie experimented with three quick deep hard ones. The woman started a guttural moan. The man on her left said to the other man, "Bob, how about your tip?" "I'm in for five." "Five?" the man on Marnie's left said. "Come on, back up my investment, I think we have a chance here." "Okay, I'm in for ten." Encouraged by the group, Marnie tried faster, slow again, with a twisting motion and a wobble. She had the server hopping a couple of times for balance. On the last stroke, Marnie shoved it in hopeful that it would take her over, and left the dildo in for the server to take out herself. It was not to be, this time without upping the tip to fourteen. The server left agonizingly aroused like a slot machine that Marnie and the crowd had been working, and was now ready to pay off with one more dollar put in by the next gambler. The lady on her right patted her thigh, "You did great. Don't let it get you down if Bob and Will here hadn't been so cheap, you would have cleared our tab for us for sure. Hi, I'm Nancy, this is Melanie. What's your name?" Marnie thought a moment. "Last night I was introduced as Bonnie." "It's Bonnie," she said. "Why don't you slide on in and join us? The water is great," Nancy said. "I'd better not, thanks. The care instructions on these warn against such a thing for the next several days," Marnie said, as she flipped the rings up and down. "Ooooo, I'd better not do that for a while either. Phew! That was surprisingly painful." Then Nancy jumped out so she was sitting next to Marnie on the edge of the spa, and said, "Whew. I think maybe I've been in here too long anyway." Then Melanie got out and sat on Marnie's left, saying essentially the same thing. "Do you mind if I take a closer look at these?" Nancy asked. "Sure, okay," said Marnie hesitantly. Nancy put her right hand on the underside of Marnie's breast and turned it toward her. Melanie followed suit after asking Marnie with her eyes. Now Marnie sat with a mildly disgusted expression on her face while two hands lifted and separated her breasts for a close visual examination of her nipples. Will and Bob swam up to in front of her and stood, leaning in, to get a better look see themselves. "You know, I should just run and check to see if there are any messages left for me by the party I was supposed to meet here tonight," Marnie said, a little uneasy. "Hurry back."Nancy said as Marnie was leaving. In the locker room, Marnie asked the attendant how she would be able to check with the front desk for messages. The attendant gave her a "Shareholder's" robe, and Marnie went to the lobby to check at the desk. Marnie put her arm with the bracelet down on the counter and pulled the sleeve away to show the clerk her ID number. "Are there any messages for me from the Brannons?" she asked. "Why yes, there is, this just came in for you," the clerk said as she handed Marnie the note. "Thank you," Marnie said, as she opened it to read, "Sorry we couldn't make it in tonight. Something came up. Gave the proofs to Walter L. Figured you'd be able to find him before meeting up with us. Hope you like the shots. Let me know at this number which ones you want me to produce for you as soon as possible. All our best, Kenneth." "Do you have a phone I can use?" Marnie asked, nearly panicked. "Yes, ma'am, right around there." Marnie called the number on the note. Maggie answered the phone. "No, Kenneth is out for a couple of hours," she said. "Isn't there some way I can meet with Kenneth instead of Larcher?" Marnie asked pleadingly. "Probably not before a week. If you need your photos before a week from Saturday, we are going to need to know your selections before then, to be sure we can have them done for you in time. Besides, Walter has the proofs. Kenneth would have to track him down and get them back from him first anyway. Your best bet is to find Walter and make a note of the ones you want done by Roger's party, and call us here with the picture numbers," Maggie explained. "What about Brenda's shots? Does Walter have them too?" Marnie asked, resigning herself to the dreadful thought of having to go through Larcher to access boudoir photos of herself. "Yes, I believe Kenneth sent those proofs along as well, figuring Brenda would be pretty anxious to see them. Sorry we couldn't make it tonight. Hope you enjoyed yourself there," Maggie said, and they exchanged closing pleasantries before hanging up. Marnie showered, got dressed, and hightailed it home. As she walked in the house, Brenda grabbed her and pulled her aside for a private conversation. "Well? Let's see them," she said. "Honey, the Brannons didn't show. They gave them to Walter to give to us. I'll go downtown and see him at his work, and try to get them tomorrow morning," Marnie said, a little dejected. "What time will we leave?" Brenda said assertively. Marnie thought before answering, "If Brenda goes, Larcher will surely leave me alone. That's what I should do from now on." "How about we leave at 9:00? Now, where's your father?" Marnie asked. "In the kitchen fixing something," Brenda said, as she bounded cheerfully upstairs to her room. "Oh dear," she said musically, as she entered the kitchen. "I couldn't interest you in a little preview of one of the things I have planned for your fortieth, could I?" she said, causing Roger to drop his project and get up. "It's early, but still close enough to bedtime to call it a night, don't you think?" she said as he approached her. "I'm with you, Sweets. Let's go," Roger said, taking her hand and leading the way. Upstairs in the room, Marnie closed the door with her hands behind her back, facing Roger seductively. "Why don't you take a shower, while I get a few things ready," she said with sex appeal that had Roger scrambling to follow her suggestion. While Roger showered, Marnie got some of the goods she purchased earlier in the day out in strategic places. She dressed in a black bra and panty set, put on a full-length robe, and laid down on the bed waiting with the robe open enough for one leg to be fully exposed up past her hip. Roger came into the room, saw her thus, and started to moan audibly as he approached to hug and kiss her. "Settle down, Tiger. If you want a preview, you're going to have to let me be in charge of the presentation. Now, lay down on the bed here," she said as she got up and patted the middle where she wanted him to lay. "Now, for what I am about to show you, I'm sure you're going to be naughty like before, so hands up over your head," she said, smiling at Roger's quick compliance. "We can't have you kicking again, so spread 'em. Hold still, or the preview's off," she said as she climbed all over him to fasten his hands above his head and his feet to the corners of the bed with new leather cuffs on chains. Marnie's warm legs and the smell of the new leather had Roger's cock twitching up to full salute. Marnie sat straddling his stomach, and took the satiny robe and spread it around her. Then she reached back and rubbed his cock under the robe, sending, otherwise knee-buckling, pleasurable sensations to Roger's midsection. Then she did a slow, sensuous tease of removing her robe, to reveal the black bra and panty set. Roger was getting so excited that Marnie's arousal was steeping. She removed the panties and backed up to Roger's face, straddling his chest. "Show me that you love me, before I show you one of your surprises," she said as she backed her cunt up to his eager lips. Marnie held his balls with her fingers of her right hand, hooking her thumb around the base of his cock. As he kissed, sucked, licked, and nuzzled her nether area, she kissed him up and down his cock and around his balls. After she came in a pleasurable orgasm, she took a ball in her mouth and sucked on it as she rolled her tongue around it. This caused Roger to buck against his bonds, so she switched and repeated it with the other one. She sensed that she would be able to tolerate his cock in her at this point, so she moved herself around, facing him, and watched him for a moment as he tried to catch his breath and blink the sweat out of his eyes. Marnie lowered herself gingerly down onto his cock and sat there momentarily, relieved that she had recovered enough to go this far with him without pain. As she pulled her rear up so that Roger's cock was just barely in at the tip, he took in a big breath and held it, until she lowered herself down slowly and steadily again. Roger let out his breath in a loud uncontrollable torrent as she sunk him deep into her. Roger tried to buck up into her to increase the motion. Marnie couldn't afford to have any motion she didn't have complete control over with him inside her, so she placed her palms down on his upper thighs to control his efforts. Roger's head was flailing from side to side. Marnie had never seen him agonize toward having his orgasm as much as he was right then. She felt him stiffen, have some telltale lurches, and just before he was about to explode, she reached back and quickly removed her bra. Roger's eyes went wide like two eggs sunny side up, at the sight of her pierced nipples. Then they closed tightly as he shot the first of several spewings deep inside of her. Before he cruised to the end of his reverie, Marnie was off of him, putting her robe back on. She let his feet free. She pondered the advisability of letting his hands free. Then she decided to loosen the chain so he could bring his arms down somewhat but not enough to feel her breasts, in case he decided to go exploring on her in the night. Not quite being sure of what he saw, Roger asked, "Could you open that robe of yours again for a second?" "Now, now, time for naughty boys to get some shuteye," she said, rolling him over on his side so she could spoon him from the rear, playing with his nipples, thinking, "They would have to make pretty small rings to fit on these babies." Comments welcomed: spunknwagnels@hotmail.com http://www.dejanews.com/home_ps.shtml Find with " Author(s):spunkn* " or ftp://asstr.ml.org/pub/Authors/spunknwagnels Saved as "nwmd12.txt"

Part 12

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/15744.txt

Citation

"Damn!" The patrol car's blue and red flashers loomed large in my rearview mirror... I had been caught. I pulled into the parking lot of a large mall simply because traffic on the street was too heavy. I held on to a faint hope the patrol car would keep going, but no luck; it pulled in right behind me. For the first time, I got a good look at the officer behind the wheel. Auburn hair and hazel eyes... the kind that could melt ice cubes or start fires in other places. "If I have to get a ticket, at least it will come from a good-looking lady," I muttered out loud. When she stepped from the patrol car, I received a double surprise - not only did she have a stunning-looking face, but she filled her uniform magnificently! She wasn't petite by any means, but she wasn't an amazon either. She was very shapely and looked like she could handle herself in any situation, from a street brawl to the bedroom. Looking at her walk as she approached my car, I felt that familiar warmth and stirring in the most private parts of my body. "What the hell, John," I said to myself, "Let's have a little fun." As she approached, I noticed the absence of a wedding ring, something I always look for on good-looking women, not that a wedding ring really makes a difference - the approach is just different. I rolled down my window and waited. She stood cautiously about three feet from my door. I put both hands on the steering wheel to let her know I meant no harm. I looked up at those deep, hazel eyes with a big grin on my face... "I hope you realize," I said good-naturedly, "this has completely destroyed any possibility of a meaningful relationship between us." Her eyes widened slightly in surprise, radiating a twinkle that promised a great sense of humor. A wide smile came shortly after, and she hid it with her hand. "Excuse me," she said in a silky voice that failed to hide the amusement she was feeling. "I'll be right back. Please stay where you are." She returned to her patrol car and got in. I could see her laughing in my rearview, aided by the lights in her car and the lights in the parking lot. Officer K. Edwards had a sense of humor all right; I was determined to test it to the limit. While she sat in the patrol car, I unzipped my slacks and fished out my semi-hard cock. The mere sight of the way she filled her uniform made me tingle all over... a few sensual strokes, and my cock stood up in my lap like a submarine's periscope looking for something to torpedo. A quick check of the rearview showed me she was returning. Her countenance composed and all business. "May I have your driver's license, registra... Oh Shit!" She had seen the periscope. I looked deep into her eyes and saw no humor in them. I had carried my little joke too far. "Sir," she said in a controlled and level tone of voice, "please put your penis back in your pants and step out of the car." Her right hand rested on the handle of the gun at her side. "I'm sorry, Officer Edwards, I..." "Do it now." She cut me off sternly, her hand tightening on the gun handle. I knew she meant business. I was sorry I had gone as far as I did and was a little embarrassed and frightened. I stuffed my cock back in my pants as best I could while she watched. I got out of the car. "Face the car, put your feet apart, lean against the car with your hands on the roof." "Oh, come on, officer. I was only..." "Please DO IT, sir." I was really scared now, and the fear only made my now aching cock even harder. I assumed the position she requested, my heart thudding in my chest, pumping even more blood into my already stiff shaft. She pulled my feet further away from my car with her own, forcing my weight onto my hands, setting me off balance. Beginning at my ankles, she frisked me, moving slowly upward, first on the outside, then the inside of my legs. When she reached my crotch, she pushed gently upward on my testicles, then moved her hand firmly along the length of my now throbbing cock. I felt a bead of lubricating liquid ooze from the tip. "I suppose you think this is funny." She seemed just a little out of breath, but her voice still had that silky, sensual tone laced with authority. "N-no, officer." I was really frightened now. "I can't help it, something about you really turns me on." Her hand left my cock and continued expertly exploring the upper regions of my body. "Put your left hand behind you back, please." Her manner was professional and all business. I felt the cold chrome steel of the handcuff close around my wrist. "Now your right hand, please." She finished cuffing me, turned me around, and leaned me against the car. "Aw, c'mon officer, you're not really going to..." "Shut up or I'll gag you too!" Her voice was even and low. It had lost that sensual silkiness. She meant what she said. "You are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law." I couldn't believe I had been so stupid, exposing myself to a cop. She finished Mirandizing me and locked up my car. "I'm taking you to the station for booking. The charge is indecent exposure." She led me to the patrol car, opened the rear door, and helped me in. "Shit!" I thought, "Nine o'clock at night and I'm on my way to jail for flashing my cock at a cop!" She glanced back at me in the rearview mirror from time to time. I couldn't swear to it, but I thought I saw that sparkle in her eyes again...like a predator cat toying with its victim just before the kill. "Look on the bright side," she said, that silkiness back in her voice, "I'm not going to give you a ticket." "I don't suppose you'd be willing to forget about my, shall we say, stupidity back there, would you?" "Not a chance! You're going to pay for this one, mister." "John," I said weakly. "Listen, I didn't mean any disrespect, Officer Edwards...may I ask you your first name?" "Sure," she said evenly, "you can ask." "What is your first name, officer?" "Patrolwoman Edwards, badge 6973," she said. "Now button it up, creep, we're almost there." "This is it," I thought. "My life ruined and all because I had to have a little fun...SHIT!" She pulled the patrol car into the driveway of what looked like a deserted building across the street from the police station. "Hey," I said, "isn't that the police station across the street?" "That's the new station, this is the old station. We use the old station as a holding area. You're not getting booked until morning. Give you a chance to cool off." "But Officer..." "I told you to button it! One more word and you get a gag...I mean it!" She pulled to a stop at the rear of the building and helped me out. I thought it rather strange there were no lights in the parking lot, and none on in the building. She led me in to the building, her flashlight leading the way. "Hey, wait a second! Where are you..." "Shut up!" she said, and took us to the basement and a long row of deserted cells. She stopped in front of one of the cells and removed the handcuffs. I turned around to see the barrel of her revolver aimed at the center of my chest. "Now back up, slowly, into the cell." The gun barrel didn't waver an inch...I backed in slowly. "Strip." "What?" I couldn't believe what I'd heard. "I'm not stripping for you or anyone else. I want to make a phone call." She cocked the revolver and aimed it lower. "Strip or I'll give you a .38 caliber vasectomy, you son-of-a-bitch." I stripped down to my undershorts and socks and stood there like an adolescent at his first dance. My hard-on had long since vanished. All I felt now was a slight nausea and weakness in my knees. "Take it all off," she said evenly. I did as she commanded, first the socks, then, hesitantly, the underwear. I cupped my hands in front of my private parts. "A little shy?" she asked, smiling. "You were anxious enough to show it to me a little while ago." "Look, Patrolwoman Edwards," I said weakly, "that was a mistake and I'm sorry." "Kate," she said with her silky voice, "now lie down on the bunk on your back." Her revolver was still aimed at my shriveled privates. I stretched out on the bunk. "Here," she said, tossing the handcuffs at me, "put the chain through the bars on the bunk and cuff both hands.""When I had done that, she produced a pair of plastic strip ties and bound my feet, spread eagled, to the foot of the bunk. She came to the side of the bunk and sat down next to me. She put the barrel of her revolver under my limp cock and lifted it. The coldness of the steel sent shivers through my body. "Pathetic looking little thing," she said laughing, "what's the matter, stud, can't get it up?" I moaned in embarrassment. She got up and hung the heavy wool blanket from the other bunk across the cell window, then lit a large candle that had been in the sink. A warm glow of light and eerie shadows filled the cell. She stood in the center of the cell, put her gun in its holster, and removed the belt. She tossed it on the empty bunk. Slowly, she reached behind her head and did something with her hair. It fell across her shoulders flashing like deep burning embers in the candlelight. "I'll make you a deal," she said, standing with her legs slightly apart, hands on her hips, "if I'm happy with you in the morning, you go free. If not, you go to jail." My mouth fell open in astonishment and I could feel the hydraulic system in my loins begin to pump blood into my limp meat. "Huh?" was all I could manage. "Either that," she purred with that silky voice, "or I take you across the street and book you right now. What'll it be? A night of pleasure or a police record?" "What do I have to do to make you happy?" "It's really very simple. Until six tomorrow morning, you are going to be my slave. If you do everything, EVERYTHING I tell you to do, and don't complain about anything...I'll be happy and you'll be free. Fail to comply just once, or complain the slightest bit...and I book you as a pervert. Deal?" "I-I'll give it a try, Kate. May I call you Kate?" "You may. Now for the rules. You may make any sounds of passion you wish and as loud as you wish. No one will hear us. You may not touch me unless I give you my permission. I will do with you whatever I please and you will not complain. That's all there is to it." "O-okay," I said timidly, "I'll try." She unbuttoned the blouse of her uniform and removed it. Her ample breasts trapped by her bra swelled in the middle like two gently rolling hills. She reached behind her and set them free, tossing her bra on the empty bunk with her blouse. She cupped her breasts, lifting them slightly and looked from them to me. "Do you like my breasts, slave?" Frantically trying to remember the rules she had outlined, I replied, "Yes, Kate, they're magnificent." I didn't have to pretend to answer, either...they were truly amazing! She approached me slowly, still cupping those beautiful globes. When she got to me she leaned over and put one of her erect nipples about a half inch from my lips. My cock had come fully awake now and was standing at attention. I wanted to take that succulent nipple in my mouth...taste its sweetness and nibble on it...my cock began to pulsate. "May I take your nipple in my mouth, Kate?" "NO!" she said, a huskiness in her silky voice, her breathing deeper and a little faster. She closed the distance between her nipple and my lips, pushing it lightly against my mouth. My loins were screaming at my lips and teeth to open up and take that hard little bud inside...my mind kept my mouth tightly shut. After what seemed like centuries, she stood up. "You've passed my little test, slave. Do you want to suck on my nipple?" "Oh yes, Kate, please, I beg you, put your nipple in my mouth." At that moment I wasn't acting or playing a slave game, my entire being ached to taste her. "Very well," she purred seductively, "you're a good slave and deserve a reward. The better you are, the more rewards you get." She leaned over me again. I parted my hungry lips and raised my head to meet her descending nipple. She held it just out of reach. I couldn't help myself, little boy whimpering sounds escaped my throat in anticipation. "Please, oh please, Kate," I whimpered, "I'll do anything you say, ANYTHING, just let me taste your nipple." "I know you will, darling," she whispered, "I know you will." She lowered her hard nipple to my parted lips. I closed them around it and slowly traced a path around its base with my tongue. Her eyes closed and a soft moan came out of her. She pushed harder with her breast and I opened my mouth wider to take all she wanted to give. "Yessss slave! Suck my breast!" Her breathing was heavier. I captured her nipple in my teeth and began nibbling from the base, working my way to the tip, then flicked, licked and sucked, then began nibbling again. Her moaning became louder and more yearning. Without warning she stood up, pulling her breast from my mouth with a wet popping sound. I groaned in frustration and disappointment. "Something wrong, slave?" Her eyes flashed mischievously at mine, the sparkle had returned. "Do you want to suck on my nipple some more?" she asked teasingly. "You aren't complaining, are you?" "No, mistress Kate, I'm not complaining. It's just that your nipples are so sweet, and firm...I could nibble and suck on them for hours." "Perhaps later," she said, moving back to the center of the cell. "Right now I want you to see the rest of what you may or may not get to experience tonight." She kicked her shoes off and flipped them onto the other bunk. Slowly, she unfastened the waistband of her slacks and lowered the zipper. My pulse quickened and my rigid cock began waving wildly in the air, its spasms completely beyond my control. My eyes were riveted on the juncture of her thighs as she continued to lower the zipper with one hand, the other holding the waistband together. As the zipper reached its lowest point, she turned her back to me. To say she was a master tease would be an understatement. I had no doubt she was serious when she told me I may or may not get to partake of her luscious charms. It became my fervent hope that she would be a compassionate mistress and allow me to become lost in ecstasy within her body. She lowered her slacks from her waist to the top of her hips, looked back over her shoulder at me, blew me a sensuous kiss, then threw her head back and laughed teasingly. She began undulating her hips in a slow, circular motion. With each rotation she pushed the slacks lower on her hips. After what seemed an eternity, I could see the lacy waistband of her panties, black against the creamy smooth flesh of her lower back. She wasn't wearing pantyhose. Still lower the slacks went, driving me crazy with desire, until her entire buttocks were exposed, sheathed in filmy, black lace bikini panties. Her ass cheeks rotating against one another beneath the lace of her panties as she continued to undulate her hips. It was almost more than I could bear. I wanted to scream out, "Fuck me, Kate! Oh, please, slide your hot pussy down over my cock! I want to be inside you!" But I dared not for fear this would all end with a trip across the street and booking. So I simply lay there watching, my heart pounding in my chest, my cock throbbing mercilessly. She stopped undulating her hips and simply let her slacks fall down around her ankles. Her bare legs were smooth and shapely and held promises of wondrous delights. Slowly, she bent over at the waist without bending her knees. As she bent, the fabric of her panties tightened across her cheeks and the juncture between. Covered only by a thin strip of lace, her hidden pussy raised my blood to the boiling point. As she lifted first one leg, then the other to step out of her slacks, her pussy also shifted, first to one side, then the other. She was watching me now from between her legs, her upside down smile seemed somehow angelic and demonic at the same time. She raised her hand between her legs and began moving her middle finger up and down the lace that covered her charms. She closed her eyes and moaned softly...I could barely hear it over the whimpering sounds I was making. She moved the lace aside, exposing the deliriously luscious lips of her moist pussy. As I watched hypnotized, her finger slowly vanished between those lips. "Oh God! Kate," I moaned, "you're driving me..." I became silent, remembering the "no complaint" rule. She stopped, her finger buried deep in her pussy. Her eyes opened wide, staring at me upside down from between her long, shapely legs. "You may continue, slave. Don't be afraid," she purred. "CRAZY!" I shouted in pure animal lust. She jumped slightly at my shout, but kept her finger buried deep within her. I had never wanted a woman as badly as I wanted her at that moment. "Oh God, please mistress..." Tears of frustration were streaming down my face, my body arched off the bed, my hips thrust into the air. "Let me ram my cock deep inside your pussy! GOD! IT HURTS...I FEEL LIKE I'M GOING TO BURST...I WANT YOU SO BADLY!" I was squirming all over the bunk, breathing heavily and moaning loudly. "It hurts?" She asked, her finger now moving slowly in and out of her wet pussy, making me delirious with lust. "Is that a complaint, slave?" "N-no, no mistress!" I replied quickly with gasping breath. "It's a good hurt! A wonderful hurt!" "That's better," she purred, slowly removing her finger from her pussy. She stood up straight, turned sensually and came toward me, her pubic mound pushing at the lace...undulating...teasing. She sat on the bunk next to me. "We'll have to do something about that hurt," she said. She took my throbbing, pulsating, aching cock in her hand and closed her fingers loosely around it. Then she ran the finger that had been buried deep in her wet pussy under my nose. As she did this, she squeezed my cock with her other hand. The sweet smell of her juices invaded my brain short-circuiting millions of neuro switches."Her scent and the squeezing pressure of her hand on my cock was too much. My balls tightened involuntarily, and a stream of hot, creamy cum erupted from the head of my cock and flowed over her hand. I tried to pump against her hand with my hips to release more of my pent-up fluid, but she released her grip on my hot cock immediately. It jerked a few times on its own, pumping liquid from the tip with each spasm. I could feel it hot against my skin as it worked its way down my shaft toward my balls. I wanted to scream in frustration, wanted to rape this hot cop bitch who held me captive, wanted to stab her to death with my hot, throbbing cock...all I did was whimper "Oh God, Kate...Oh God...Oh my God..." "Does it feel better now?" she asked and laughed a deep, animal laugh. She slowly licked my cum from her hand. "You taste delicious, slave," she purred. "I'll have to have more....but later." She bent then, lowering her lips to mine, her tongue exploring the inside of my mouth. I could taste my own salty juices in her mouth and could smell the musky scent of my cum on her breath. My mind began to slip...I was driven slowly to the brink of sexual insanity by this taunting, teasing police officer! She broke the kiss long before I wanted her to. I closed my eyes and savored the kiss, committing it to memory forever. Opening my eyes again, I looked down my body and saw her face in the vicinity of my still hard cock. "Oh, look," she whispered sensually, "you've spilled some of your sweet cum." I could feel her hot breath on my cock and balls as she spoke. "Would my slave like me to clean him up?" she asked teasingly. "Y-yesssss, please do." There was an aching, genuinely urgent tone in my voice. "Do you think you deserve to be cleaned? Do you think you've been a good slave, darling John?" Her voice was teasing, taunting, driving me wild with desire and a deep, yawning urge to bury my hot cock into any opening she might offer. "I've tried to be good, Mistress," I said timidly, not looking at her. As much as I tried to hold on to my masculinity, I failed. I really had become this incredibly sexy vixen's slave. At that moment, I knew I would do anything she asked. I'd do it gladly if it meant sampling her charms. Every nerve ending in my body was on a razor's edge...her slightest touch, anywhere on my body, sent waves of tingles and goose flesh racing throughout my entire being. "Look at me, slave," she commanded. I looked into her sparkling hazel eyes and became lost in a place I never wanted to escape from. I felt as if I were falling into transparent pools of hazel-colored liquid....if she didn't speak soon, I knew I would drown. At the last possible second, her voice pulled me out of her liquid eyes, saving me from being trapped there for eternity. "Yes," she said slowly, "you have been a good slave, an obedient and tasty slave. You have earned another reward. I will let it be one of your own choosing. How would you like to be cleaned up, slave?" My mind raced with the possibilities. I wanted my cock deep in her inviting pussy....I also wanted to feel it slide deep into her throat...I wanted to stuff its entire, throbbing length into her ass, too. I was so consumed with desire for this creature, I couldn't speak. "Quickly, slave," she purred, "what part of your Mistress do you want me to clean your beautiful cock and balls with?" "It's not a slave's place to choose, Mistress." It was as if someone else had spoken with my voice. I'd been given the chance to let my cock explore any part of this luscious body I desired, and I actually said it wasn't my place to choose! "Ahhh, my sweet, sexy John slave." She was using that sexy voice of hers. "You are indeed the perfect slave. You pass each test I give you." With that, she lowered her head and cleaned the cum from my cock and balls with her luxuriously thick auburn hair. She wrapped my rigid cock in it and slowly moved it from the base of my shaft to the tip of its head. It was like pushing my cock through a silken tube....the sensation was so intense I nearly came again. I gasped from the pure pleasure of it. I had never imagined, in my wildest fantasies, that a woman's hair could feel so good! When she finally finished cleaning me and lifted her head, I could see streaks of her hair stuck wetly together with my creamy cum. "We're going to have some fun now, slave." She left the bunk and bent over a carry bag she had brought with her. Again, she bent at the waist, knees straight, giving me a direct view of her glorious pussy trapped beneath her lacy panties. She took her time rummaging through the bag, all the while shifting her weight from one leg to the other. The movement beneath her panties was driving me even deeper into the depths of sexual desire....and she knew it! At long last, she stood up and turned to face me. In one hand, she held a small, penis-shaped vibrator, in the other was a string of ten wooden beads, each a quarter of an inch in diameter and spaced two inches apart on the string. I had heard stories of the beads and how they were used, but I had never experienced it...my blood raced at the thought. She approached slowly, her hips undulating, her weapons in her hands, a wide smile on her face. She laid her weapons at the foot of the bed between my legs. Then she removed the pillow from beneath my head. "Lift your ass," she commanded. I obeyed. She doubled the pillow and placed it beneath my ass. "Relax," she said. I tried. She retrieved her weapons and positioned herself between my legs. She switched on the vibrator and put its tip at the base of my scrotum and moved it slowly upward. The sensations made my cock jump and wobble uncontrollably. After a few minutes, she moved it to the base of my cock and held it there. She lowered her head then, and I could feel her warm, wet tongue licking my ass and poking at my hole. Moaning sounds were coming from deep within her as she continued to lubricate my asshole with her warm saliva. I jerked my hips upward and tightened my ass muscles when she attempted to insert the first wooden bead. She raised her head and stared at me with those bewitching eyes. "Relax, John," she commanded softly, compassionately, sensually. "Your Mistress wants you to feel pleasure, not pain." "Oh God," was all I could manage to moan. She lowered her head again. I loosened my muscles as best I could, and felt the first of ten beads being pushed gently into my ass by this wildly erotic animal that held me captive. "Oooooooh GOD!" I moaned....and with each of the ten beads she inserted, I moaned the same phrase. "How do you feel?" she asked when she had completed her task. "Full," I said, "it feels so, so strange." I was breathing heavily. "Don't worry, John. Just relax your muscles, you'll enjoy it so much more." With all the effort I could manage, I concentrated on relaxing. As I became more and more relaxed, that strange feeling left me, and I felt less full. The sensation actually became pleasant. "Yes, John. That's much better," she purred soothingly. She put the buzzing vibrator back on my scrotum and rotated it in tiny circles. Her other hand grasped my throbbing shaft and held it steady. Then she lowered her head and probed the tiny opening in the head of my cock with her hot tongue. Indescribable sensations shot down the length of my tortured cock and raced through my body like an avalanche! "I'm going to make you cum in my mouth," she said, moving her head away from my eager cock. "But I promise you one thing, you'll experience ecstasy you never thought possible before you do!" I had already experienced ecstasy of the magnitude she described, and she hadn't really done anything to me, yet. All of her, her body, her eyes, her voice, her taunting and teasing were driving me insane with passion. I wanted to deposit a hot load of liquid deep within her luscious body, and I didn't care where! My hips jerked spasmodically when I felt the hot wetness of her mouth close around the head of my cock .... she was still working the vibrator in tight circles on my scrotum, her other hand rhythmically squeezing my shaft. Her tongue began moving back and forth across the opening in my cock .... slowly at first, then faster and faster. In a desperate effort to get more of myself inside her, I pushed upward. She immediately stopped all activity and sat upright, staring at me with her hypnotic eyes .... my steel-hard cock was left bobbing in the air like a drunken sailor, the skin on its head hot, purple, and tight in anticipation. "Oooooh GOD! Kate, Mistress .... please, don't torture me this way. I don't know how much longer I can stand it!" My head tossed from side to side as I spoke. The pressure of the hot fluids trapped inside my body was becoming painful. I felt if I didn't cum soon, I would explode, flooding the insides of my own body with juices. "Don't?" She asked with authority. "Did my slave actually say 'don't' to me?" She laughed a wicked little laugh, "Dear slave, you don't understand, do you? You are MY slave, I AM your Mistress. I will decide what I will and will not do, not you. Your only purpose for being tonight is to make me happy. Do you understand?" "Y-yes, Kate," I said sheepishly, "I will do as you say, it's just that you're driving me crazy .... I can't help it, I just want to feel all of me deep inside you." "Let me hear you beg for it, slave," she said tauntingly, eyes flashing, then she licked the underside of my throbbing shaft from base to tip. "OH GOD!" I moaned, my body jerking in response to her tongue. "You are the perfect Mistress." I was gasping for breath, barely getting the words out. "You are fair in your punishment and compassionate in your judgment.""Please, Mistress, I beg of you, have compassion for this unworthy servant. I exist only to give you pleasure. Ummm, please, allow my fevered and eager cock to explore the depths of your throat. Oh God, Kate, allow this pitiful slave to provide you with a warm drink of sweet juices to soothe your burning throat. Please, Kate, I only want to please you." "Oooooh, slave!" She purred, her eyes softening with compassion and just a hint of eagerness. "You have begged so eloquently, how can I possibly refuse? Besides, I am anxious to taste your cum again. I have decided to grant your request." She put the vibrator back on my scrotum and quickly slid her hot mouth down the full length of my tormented cock, enclosing it in a moist, velvety sheath that clung to the contours of my shaft and head like a glove. "Aaaaagggghhhh!" I moaned as the head of my pulsing tube came to rest at the back of her throat, her soft lips applying scintillating pressure on the base of my shaft, her silken tongue moving back and forth on the underside of my cock. Her tongue was picking up and transmitting the tingling vibration from the machine pressing against my balls. "OH MY GOD! I CAN'T STAND IT... IT FEELS SOOOOO WONDERFUL!" I was moaning and whimpering now, buried to the hilt in her tight throat. I thought I was going to die! She began a slow, steady up and down movement with her head, animal sounds of her own mingling with mine. My burning cock slid out to the head then back into that tight sheath to the base of her throat, faster and faster she moved. My head was tossing from side to side, eyes squeezed tightly shut, sparks of sexual fire exploding in my brain and showering my entire body with hot pin pricks of sensual sensation. She continued moving her head up and down, the pleasure she and the vibrator were giving went far past the concept of "normal". So intense was the pleasure, it bordered on the threshold of pain. The mechanism in my body that triggers orgasm was frozen solid. I was lost in a galaxy of pleasure and pain, without orgasm there could be no way out! I can't be sure how long she kept it up. But, if she kept doing what she was doing, I knew the exhilarating intensity of sensation would never let me cum. She must have read my mind or my cock or both because she slowed her pace and began working her magic mouth on the head only, her free hand gripping my shaft and jacking me off in perfect time with her mouth. As suddenly as she had shifted technique, a whole different wave of sensations rolled in and crashed over my tingling body. The first warnings of a 10.2 earthquake began rocking my body, its epicenter at my throbbing cock. The major quake shot throughout my body. Stream after stream of hot cum rocketed into her hungry mouth. "OOOOOOH SHIIIIIT!" I screamed, thrusting my hips off the pillow. She took all of the first load, moaning and making animal sounds. Then she grabbed the string sticking out of my ass and pulled the first wooden bead across my prostate. "OH! OH! OOOOOH MY GOD!" I was screaming in surprise as an aftershock coursed through my cock, producing a second orgasm and a second flood of hot liquid. She captured it in her mouth and gulped it down. Another pull on the string, another aftershock, another orgasm, more cum than I ever thought I was capable of producing. My eyes were wide open, not seeing, my body arched off the pillow, frozen like a statue, my mouth wide and working, no sound coming out. Still another bead exploding my insides with sensation, draining me of fluid and still her mouth worked feverishly on my erupting cock, sucking out the creamy liquid, tongue swirling, urging me to produce more! I came 11 times in the space of two minutes. It seemed like an eternity, each bead worked its magic on my prostate, each pass producing an intense, cum gushing orgasm! After the last orgasm, my body remained frozen in that arched position, the head of my drained cock still trapped in her mouth, still pulsating with frequent, non-orgasmic aftershocks. She slowly inserted the vibrator in my ass, my entire body began to shudder and collapsed on the bed, quivering and shaking out of control. I was gasping for breath, trying to gain control of my body. "Oh fuck it!" I thought and gave myself to the sensations controlling me. "Oooooh, slave! You have given me a wonderful treat. My thirst is quenched! But my pussy and my ass need a drink, too!" "Noooooo..." I protested weakly. My mind was telling me my body was exhausted, drained, used up. "Yessss," she purred, "but not until you've rested." She took a washcloth from her bag and held it under cold water from the sink. She wrung it out and, lifting my limp cock delicately with her fingers, placed the cool, damp cloth on my feverish balls. Then she released my cock and pulled the remainder of the cloth over it. "Aaaaahhh," I sighed, my breathing beginning to return to normal, "that feels wonderful." She reached back into her goody bag and pulled out a banana. Sitting beside me on the bunk, she peeled it slowly. Everything she did had an air of sensuality. She tossed the peel in the corner and held the fruit up delicately in front of my face. "We must have nourishment," she said and moved the end of the banana toward her parted lips. She licked it from mid-way to the tip and let the end slip slowly into her mouth. In the deepest, most remote places of my being, I felt a weak sexual stirring begin. "Ummmmm," she sighed, biting off the tip of the fruit. I watched in fascination as she chewed and then swallowed it. "It's good, slave, but not as delicious as you!" She laid the banana on my chest and took her panties off, teasingly, sensuously. The sight of her full, beautiful bush made my heart skip a beat. I couldn't take my eyes away from it. "You like my pussy, slave?" She asked tauntingly. She spread her legs, and her pink and inviting clit lay nestled in her flesh like a precious cultured pearl. Further down, the entrance to paradise lay invitingly open. "Would you like to fuck me, slave?" Her eyes were sparkling again, and she began slowly rotating her hips, teasing me with her waiting pink flesh. "Would you like to put your cock deep in my hot, wet pussy, slave?" "OH GOD YES!" My eyes were wide, my throat dry, the sexual stirring I felt moments before becoming a tornado of destructive passion and yearning. I felt my balls moving inside my sack, and my limp meat was beginning to stiffen again. "Perhaps... perhaps not!" She laughed deep in her throat, fanning the fires she had started deep within me. She turned the banana around and placed the unbitten end against the entrance to paradise. Leaning back slightly, she pushed the fruit slowly into her pussy. I watched in a hypnotic trance as the fruit slid inch by agonizing inch into her moist opening. After pushing it almost all the way in, she withdrew it, then pushed it in again, then withdrew it all the way. She brought the fruit toward my face, her woman scent mixed with the smell of the banana made my mouth water. I opened my mouth wide in anticipation of this delightful treat. She did not disappoint me. I took a big bite, savoring the mixed flavors. She fed me the rest of the most delicious fruit I'd ever tasted. I knew deep inside I'd never be able to look at a banana again without reliving these moments. Back in her goodie bag again, she took out a can of whipped cream. Shaking the can, she spread her legs once again and sprayed her entire bush with the fluffy white topping. "Time for dessert," she purred and put one knee on each side of my head, her cream-soaked pussy hovering above my mouth. "Bon appétit," she said and lowered that savory treat to my mouth. She didn't have to tell me what to do next. Starting at the entrance to paradise, I licked the cream from her treasures. She rocked her hips back and forth to help me, breathing heavily, moaning and sighing. I licked and slurped and sucked the delicious stuff from between her pussy lips, from the sides of her legs and her bush. Another food I would never look at in quite the same way again! As the sweet treat vanished, I concentrated my efforts on her clit. She pressed harder against my mouth, rocking faster and moaning louder. "Ummmmm... yes, slave," she sighed, breathing faster. "Eat my pussy, Ooooooh... take my clit in your teeth, that's it... Oh God, Yes! Bite it, yes, yes, YEESSSSS... a little harder... Oooooh, Yeah... now put your tongue in my hole... Oooooooo, Ummmmmmm... yes, slave!" She was rocking faster, moving her sweet wet pussy back and forth, her nipples and rolling them back and forth between her fingers. Her head was thrown back, and she began whimpering and moaning louder. The fire that had begun in my loins was now raging out of control and spread to other parts of my body. My cock had once again become hard as steel. "Oooooh, Oooooh, Oooooh, Oooooh, slave!" She was beginning to scream in ecstasy. I could feel her thighs quivering against the sides of my head as she moved her pussy ever faster across my tongue. She was grinding that magnificent cunt down into my mouth now. Each time her clit came over my tongue, her thighs jerked, and I tried to capture that elusive bud and suck on it, but nothing would stop the rocking, grinding motion she had begun with her hips. "YES, YES, YES, YES!" She chanted, rocking still faster. "OOOH GOD! OOOH GOD! OOOOOOOOO YEEEEESSSSS!" She was breathing wildly now, her chest heaving with the labor. Her thighs began jerking uncontrollably. She moved her hands from her breasts to my head.Taking a handful of my hair with each hand, she pulled my face harder into her soaking wet crotch. Suddenly, she stopped rocking, her entire body quivering. She ground her pussy into my face in tiny rotating circles, pulling my face still harder into her crotch with her hands. I captured her throbbing clit and closed my lips around it, applying all the suction I could manage and, at the same time, nibbling and flicking it with my tongue as hard as I could. The quivering in her body turned to a shudder, and a loud, shrieking scream tore from her throat. Her hips were grinding in small circles hard against my face, forcing her hot, wet pussy even tighter to my hungry mouth. She was climbing to the peak of an orgasmic mountain, and I was doing all I could to help her reach the top. At the peak of her orgasm, she ceased all movement, except for her clit. I could feel it pulsating in my mouth, and I continued to nibble and run my tongue roughly across its tip. Suddenly, the scream coming from her throat was cut off, and the shuddering in her body became a heaving of all her muscles. Her clit still pulsated and throbbed in climax. She was holding her breath, and her muscles ceased heaving and tensed like those of a predator cat ready to pounce. Still, her clit throbbed and pulsated between my lips, and we were frozen in time like models for a still life artist, with the only movement being her clit and my tongue. She had reached the peak of the orgasmic mountain and was taking her sweet time, enjoying the sensations at the top. Finally, she began to descend the other side. She finished the scream, her chest began heaving again desperately sucking in life-giving oxygen, her body began shuddering again, and her hips began rocking back and forth wildly. Her clit continued to throb as it swept past my tongue. She was taking a roller coaster ride, and I had to hang on and take the ride with her. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, all her movement began to slow. The closer she got to the base of the mountain, the slower she moved. Sigh after deep, satisfied sigh came out of her, her hips slowed to a halt, and her clit rested directly on my tongue. It was no longer throbbing. I licked it gently, and she began purring like a cat, running her fingers through my hair and soothing the places she had pulled so hard just moments before. "Ummmmmmmmm," she sighed dreamily. "John, that was wonderful." The masterful tone in her voice had vanished, replaced by the voice of a soft, sensual woman who had set out on an adventure in mountain climbing, had succeeded, and was now relaxing in front of a cozy fire in a snowed-in lodge. "God! Your mouth is fantastic, lover," she purred, then sighed heavily in contentment. "Unghflnnnfggh," I replied, her pussy still resting sweetly on my mouth. "Oops, sorry!" She laughed and climbed off my face. She stretched out next to me on the bunk, her body pressing close to mine, her fingers making little curls with the hair on my chest. She was looking dreamily into my eyes, her own eyes soft and feeling. They had lost the sparkle of the Mistress who held me captive and took on the look of the eyes of a captured dove. She ran her hand down my chest and across my stomach to my cock. She stroked its head gently with her fingers, then gripped it and squeezed lightly, sending shivers through my body. As she squeezed my cock, she moved her face close to mine, her eyes searching mine. She lowered her lips to mine in a long, passionate, deep French kiss, her tongue seeking out mine and playing tag with it. Little moaning sounds came from her throat. "Oh God!" she said, her lips still on mine, speaking directly into my mouth, "I want your hard, beautiful cock in my pussy. I want to feel it fill me. I want it to explode inside of me and flood me with your hot, wonderful cum." She moaned a long, sensual moan into my mouth, and I could feel the vibrations of it on my lips. Her hand began squeezing my cock tighter and moving slowly up and down the shaft. She let it move down my cock to my balls and began massaging them gently, cupping them, scratching the bottom of my sack with her nails, and gently squeezing them. She pressed her mouth tighter against mine and resumed the passionate kiss of seconds before, all the while doing miraculous things to my genitals with her talented fingers. "Ooooooh," she purred, "Do you want to fuck me, John? Do you want to feel yourself deep inside me?" Her breathing was becoming more rapid, as was my own. "Do you want to feel my pussy squeeze your beautiful cock until you can't stand it anymore? Do you want to feel your hot cum spurt deep inside me? Oh God... PLEASE TELL me the passion of wanting to bury my cock deep inside her." "Oh God Yes!" She moaned, "SO DO I!" She got the whipped cream can and began shaking it. When it was ready, she put the nozzle at the base of my rigid cock and made a complete circle of the sweet cream from the base of my cock to the top. It looked like I had a hard, whipped cream cock protruding from my body. "Ooooooh," she sighed, "just looking at that makes my pussy hungry!" She positioned herself over my whipped cream cock, one leg on each side of my hips, facing me. Slowly, she lowered herself until the creamy head of my swollen cock barely touched her pussy lips. She was breathing heavily now, looking down between her legs to position her juicy pussy just right. When the head of my cock was in just the right position, she lowered her hips a little more, forcing the head of my cock between the hungry, waiting lips of her unbelievably hot cunt. She locked onto my eyes with her own. I held my breath in anticipation, afraid to move for fear she would revert to the slave Mistress and stop. "Oooooh God! I've been waiting for this all night!" She moaned, still suspended above me, just the head of my cock inside her. I wanted to scream and thrust upward, wanted to shout "ME TOO! SIT DOWN FOR GOD'S SAKE! COVER MY COCK WITH YOUR HOT PUSSY!" But I didn't. I just held my breath, hoping she would slide down my waiting pole. I didn't have to wait too long. Very slowly, she allowed my cock to slip into her hot, hungry pussy. I wanted to thrust, I wanted to scream, I WANTED TO BURY IT TO THE HILT! The whipped cream was beginning to melt from the heat of our bodies. I could feel it sliding down my cock, over my balls and into the crack of my ass. It was exciting, using the whipped cream for a lubricant, not that her pussy needed lubricating - it was soaking wet all on its own. Still, the thought was erotic and more than just a little stimulating. My cock was about a fourth of the way in. She was squirming and panting and whimpering. Her thighs were beginning to shake from the strain of lowering herself so slowly and from anticipation. "Ummmmmm... God that feels great!" She purred, still moving slowly down my rigid cock. One third the way in now, we were both moaning and panting. Half way in, she began to chant "Ooooh Baby! Ooooh Baby! Ooooh Baby!" Two-thirds of my throbbing cock was now out of sight, concealed within the walls of her tight love tunnel. I couldn't contain myself any longer. "OH GOD, KATE! PLEASE, BURY MY COCK ALL THE WAY! I CAN'T STAND IT... OOOOHHHH MY GOD!" Apparently, she couldn't stand it any longer either. Without warning, she slammed her hips down, burying my cock completely inside her. "OH!" She squealed with delight, "Ummmmmmmm, that's wonderful." She purred, sitting absolutely still, my cock completely and totally buried inside her. At the moment she sat down on my cock, the breath escaped my lungs, and I shouted, "HOLY SHIT! OOOOH GOD YESSSS!" Still motionless on top of me, she began rhythmically contracting and relaxing the muscles inside her hungry pussy. Each time she contracted those wonderful muscles, squeezing my cock, I would tighten my sphincter and expand the head of my cock to its fullest size. We played expand and contract for what seemed like hours, our eyes locked on one another, just feeling the sensations and being one with each other. "Oooohhh slave," she whispered sexily, "you have a very talented cock. Does it like being in my pussy?" "Yes, yes, Mistress! It wants to please you and fill you with its hot load of white liquid." "My pussy can hardly wait!" She sighed and began rocking back and forth with her hips. The motion bent my rigid pole back and forth, moving it only slightly inside her. Her head was back, and she cupped her breasts with her hands, squeezing them as she continued to rock back and forth on my burning cock. After a while, she leaned forward, pressing her breasts against my hairy and heaving chest. Her lips found mine, and we kissed passionately. I longed for my hands to be free so I could fondle her breasts and grab her ass cheeks. While she lay on my chest, I began a slow thrusting motion with my hips, driving my cock slowly in and out of the hot, velvety tunnel that held it prisoner. She began moaning softly into my mouth, and I into hers, our tongues still locked in a battle for dominance. As I thrust in and out of her hot pussy, she began moving her hips from side to side. Her motion combined with mine caused my thrusting cock to scrape one side lining of her tight love tunnel, then the other. It was a completely new sensation to me, and it was bringing me to the base of my own orgasmic mountain! "Ahhhh yes, fuck me baby!" She moaned into my mouth. "Ram that hard cock into me... deeper, Oooooh yes, that's it... it feels so wonderful I want you to push it all the way through me!" The way she moaned those words of passion directly into my mouth was helping me, pushing me, to the first ledge of my mountain. The silky wet walls of her pussy were working wonders on the sensitive head of my pulsing cock! "God, baby, you're sooo good!"So tight, so hot, so wet!" I breathed the words into her mouth. She put her hands on my chest and pushed herself to an upright position and, using the muscles in her legs, began lifting herself up and down on my rigid cock. Faster and faster she went, like a novice rider on a galloping horse. With each bounce, my throbbing [member] whimpered, and I sighed "OH GOD! OH GOD!" Faster and faster she bounced, tossing her head from side to side, beginning a low-volume chant of "FUCK ME! FUCK ME! FUCK ME!" That became louder the faster she moved. She was moving at a furious pace now, with each downward plunge she made, little bits of whipped cream splashed out from between us, covering my chest and her inner thighs. "OOOOOHHHH GOD YES!" She screamed, reaching a quick and violent orgasm that made her body shudder. As she came, I began thrusting my hips upward and letting them fall, then up again, lifting her weight, helping her fuck herself into oblivion. "CUM CUM CUM .... YES YES YES .... OOOH OOOH OOOH" she was screaming as orgasmic sensations raced through her body. When her orgasm subsided, she slowed her pace until she came to a stop, sitting on my still rock-hard cock. My hips were squirming beneath her in passion, my own moaning and whimpering becoming louder .... "Ohhhhh noooo, please, don't stop now ..... Oh God ...." "Don't worry, lover, we're not through yet," she purred. Then she stretched her legs out in front of her and rotated her body so her back was to my face. Never once coming close to losing the cock buried deep in her hot pussy. The sensation of her turning sent a chill through my entire body! She reached down between my legs and began raking her fingernails along the underside of my balls. "OOOOOHHHH SHIIIIT!" I cried out in total surprise at both what she was doing and the sensations it caused. Her knees under her once again, she began that slow up and down movement with her body. Every few strokes, she would pause with my cock almost all the way out, then move her hips from side to side and slowly slide back down over my hard and hot cock, all the while scratching and squeezing and massaging my balls gently, seductively. My breathing became more rapid as I quickly approached the second ledge on my orgasmic mountain! I felt lost on that mountain and was thankful to have a guide like her showing me the way to the top! "Yes baby, fill me with that hot cock of yours!" She moaned, "I love it deep inside me .... Ooooh yes, it fills me up soooo much .... I want your cum to wash every bit of my pussy .... I want to feel it splashing hot against my walls .... I want to hear you moan as your cum gushes out of your hot cock and floods deep into me .... Ummmmmm!" Her words were making my cock even harder than it was .... I didn't know how that could be possible, but it was happening. That feeling I get when I know I'm going to last a long time. For the time being, I was lost in the sensual, tingling feelings her hot pussy was imparting to my cock. She worked her body feverishly on my erect pole, speeding up her pace, then slowing down .... shifting positions slightly, each time bringing me to new heights of ecstasy .... and all the while stroking, scratching and squeezing my balls. In the next half hour, she came twice, each more powerful than the one before. With each orgasm, her fingernails dug into the flesh of my thighs and her screams of passion pierced the very essence of my soul. Tiny beads of sweat had broken out on her body, and her breathing was becoming labored. Still, she continued, working her wet pussy all over my throbbing hot cock. As she was approaching her fourth orgasm, her buildup to it was so raw, so animalistic that my balls began to tingle wildly. The first warning that I was approaching the peak of my mountain. She pumped so hard and so fast, and squeezed my cock with her pussy so tightly, I began to go insane with passion. With each foot of height I gained on my upward climb, she matched me in intensity and abandonment. We both began grunting and moaning, pounding our genitals together mercilessly. My legs began to go numb as the tingling spread throughout my body. I could feel my balls swell slightly prior to releasing their heavy load. At that instant, I thought it would be impossible for either of us to get any more wild than we were .... I was wrong! As we approached orgasm, her hand pulled my ball sack gently, the other drew blood from my thigh. We were both screaming between labored breaths .... our bodies writhing wildly, trying to tear one another apart with pure animal lust. As my heavy balls exploded their load through my seminal vesicles, I thrust upward with all my strength, burying my spurting cock deeper into her greedy pussy than it had ever been. She screamed in a mixture of pain and pleasure and ground her hips downward, impaling her pulsating pussy even further on my exploding cock. It's hard to describe the sounds, the sensations, the movements of our bodies and the punishment we inflicted on one another during our simultaneous orgasm. I only know her screams of passion were equal to my own, the intensity of her orgasm matched by mine, and the pure animal lust that flooded over us was shared equally. I don't know how long we were lost in the throes of orgasmic ecstasy .... it just seemed to go on and on .... I felt as if every ounce of fluid was being sucked from my entire body by her gripping, hungry pussy. My balls were so drained they began to ache, and still our bodies were tangled and thrusting in an animalistic frenzy, each attempting to best the other. I wanted to be lost in this wild abandon forever .... to be washed away in a flood. I'm not sure quite how it ended. All I remember is our bodies collapsing in an exhausted heap. My cock was still deep within her, but there was no feeling, no sensation. Her fabulous pussy had literally stripped the nerve endings from my body and devoured them. There was more deliriously sensual sex between us that night. We came again and again .... she used the beads on me twice more that I can remember .... it could have been more. I never dreamed I could cum so many times in such a short span of time, but her body and imagination did things to me that had never been done to me before. I remember at about three in the morning, she released me from my bonds. We experimented with every imaginable position .... before we were finished, my cock had explored every possible opening in her body and deposited its creamy cargo within them all. At six o'clock, a travel alarm in her goody bag went off. At the time, we lay exhausted in one another's arms, caressing and frenching deeply, passionately. "Oh damn," she muttered at the sound of the alarm and got up to turn it off. "Well, John, slave, lover. Your sentence has been carried out, and I hereby set you free." We dressed in silence. She in her uniform, me in my jeans and sweatshirt. I didn't want this wild sexual animal to walk out of my life, but I didn't know what to say. "Would you like to come home with me? I'll make you a great breakfast," she must have read my mind. "I'd love to, Kate," I said softly. She took me to my car, and I followed her home. As she put her key in the front door, it swung open, a stunning brunette standing in the doorway. "John," Kate said, "I'd like you to meet my roommate Kimberly." "Hi, Kimberly," I said, my hand on Kate's ass. "Oooooh Hi John," she purred, her deep green eyes sparkling with sexual energy. Kate gave me a seductive little wink, a huge smile on her face. [THE END]

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/6995.txt

Grey Wolf

The Wild Side

"Cutter," she breathed, the word barely more than a whisper. Bridget stood near the fountain in the large crowded banquet hall of the Brentwood Country Club. All around her, people talked and chatted inanely about uninteresting topics while Bridget stood near the broad window and looked longingly at the distant mountains. The sun's last light was gilding the peaks as the shadows grew, creeping toward the summit. Four days had passed since she had hastily said goodbye to her rescuer high in those mountains. Four long days, and even longer nights, since they had coupled together on the porch of the rustic cabin. The heat of that encounter still lingered strongly in Bridget's mind, as she toyed with the diamond necklace that hung about her slender neck. She had concocted a story to placate the police concerning her disappearance. She claimed to have lost control of her car, then she had called Marjorie on her cellular phone to come and get her, returning to her home instead of the Lake Lodge. Marjorie had cooperated with the deception, but was very hurt by the fact that Bridget refused to give her any details about what had really happened. The Annual Arts Festival was a major success, due in large part to Bridget's efforts as co-coordinator. Not that she cared now. In fact, she had thought seriously about staying home again tonight, to wait for her hero to come down from the mountain as she had been promised. But Marjorie and Beth had cajoled and guilted her into attending, stating that she had a responsibility to attend. So she had come, dressed in her finest for the occasion, even if her heart and mind were far away. Her dress was black velvet and strapless, with a cinched waist that most closely resembled a corset. The neckline plunged, the underwire of the seemingly delicate bra hidden beneath pushing her round breasts into an impressive décolletage. Dark, line back stockings finished the sultry look with her legs ending in a pair of black velvet pumps with gold tipped stiletto heels, a sexy, slim gold buckled strap encircling each ankle. The men attending the Festival Banquet devoured her with their eyes, but Bridget hardly noticed tonight. In the past, she would have reveled in the obvious attention her looks brought her, but tonight her mind was on one person alone, and he was still mysteriously absent. She remembered the glass of champagne that she held in one satin gloved hand, and she brought it up to her deep red lips. She glanced about the ballroom, trying desperately to think of a reason to excuse herself and go home. She was positive that Cutter would make good on his promise to come to her as soon as he could. No matter how jaded she had become at the hands of her lying husband, she was convinced of Cutter's goodness and sincerity. Though she really knew so little about him, she yearned for his touch, and she trusted him. "Bridget," came a woman's voice from behind her, "Have you met Mr. Smithers?" Bridget sighed and turned toward Marjorie and her guest, well-worn words of welcome already forming on her lips as her eyes fell on the trio standing before her. The words never saw life as Bridget froze in place, almost dropping the crystal glass that she held. Marjorie stood beside a heavy-set man of about 60, who reached out to shake the hand that Bridget still unconsciously offered in greeting. He was saying something, but the actual words were lost to Bridget amid the pounding of her pulse in her ears. The other man flanking the two was tall, close to 6 feet, with long brown hair that was beginning to go grey at the temples. His grey eyes sparkled with amusement at Bridget's reaction to his surprise appearance here. A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he tried to conceal his gratification at her response. "...and this is Mr. McGuiness, an artist with the Earth Arts Center," Marjorie's voice rose louder in an attempt to rouse her friend from her obvious stupor. "He has some marvelous pieces in the Festival this year." "Mrs. Wentworth," Cutter said, stepping forward, "I am very pleased to make your acquaintance." He arched one eyebrow in a conspiratorial look as he raised her hand to his lips briefly. Bridget could feel her skin warm beneath his lips, even through the smooth fabric of the elbow-length gloves. Cutter was an impressive figure, in a tuxedo or not, and Bridget could sense the envious stares of the women in the room as she stood toe to toe with him. Marjorie tried once more to engage Bridget into a conversation with the older man, before hustling him away to meet someone else. She cast a disapproving glance at Bridget for her rudeness as she led the grey-haired gentleman away, then smiled to herself as she noticed Cutter and Bridget standing mesmerized and still as stones facing each other. "Miss me?" Cutter asked, grinning wickedly. "I thought you'd never come," she said, finding her voice at last. "I thought it best to lay low for a while, but things seemed to have settled down well enough." "Let's go someplace quieter," she said, her heels bringing her almost to his height as she took a step nearer to him. "Why, Mrs. Wentworth," he said, feigning shock, "what WILL the ladies of the Club say?" The corners of her red, full lips turned up into their own wicked smile as she reached out to take his hand. "Whatever the Hell they want to..." she replied, leading him through the crowd toward the hallway. They wound through the bustle of people as Bridget led Cutter forward. The long full mane of her black hair bobbed and weaved down her back in masses of large curls as they pressed on. Finally, they reached the quieter hallway with its rows of dark-stained wooden doorways. Halfway down the row of doors, Bridget stopped, extending one finger to press the numbers of the keypad lock that safeguarded the office beyond. The lock disengaged with an audible click, and Bridget swung the door open, pulling Cutter in behind her before closing it again. The office was dark, with no windows to the outside. Cutter could see nothing as Bridget released his hand to feel her way across the room. There was a sharp click, followed by a glow of light from a lamp where it sat near the center of a large oak desk. Bridget sat on the edge of the desk facing Cutter, her long legs crossed forcing the hem of the dress to ride higher up her thighs. The top edge of her stockings and the strap of one garter peeked out from beneath the cloth. Bridget drummed the fingers of one hand on the desktop slowly, the clicking of the long nails muffled by the satin of the gloves. She could see the outline of Cutter's cock clearly as it grew beneath the fabric of his pants. She watched it as if hypnotized, her pink tongue darting out to run lightly across her upper lip. Cutter's dick jumped visibly and strained behind the zipper of his pants at this, and Bridget smiled, her eyes darting up to Cutter's face. She held out one satin-covered arm and commanded him to come forward by moving her finger. Cutter walked forward and bent to kiss her, but Bridget placed her slender fingers against his warm lips, stopping him. She tilted her head and stretched her neck upward to brush her hot, warm lips against the skin of his throat. She smiled as her hot, moist breath caused his skin to quiver. She licked him from the end of his white shirt collar to the edge of his jaw, slowly, her slender fingers encircling his wrists and forcing his strong hands to remain flat against the top of the desk on either side of where she sat. Cutter tilted his head backward, exposing his throat to her hot, wet kisses. Assured that he would remain in this position, Bridget released his wrists and unbuttoned the starched shirt from top to bottom, her tongue and lips working their way ever downward across his chest as it was exposed. Her satin-covered hands spread the cloth away from his muscular body, revealing his nipples for her mouth's pleasure. As she sucked and nibbled upon his nipples, Cutter's now rock-hard cock brushed back and forth against her still-crossed legs, through the fabric of his pants. Bridget's hands deftly released the belt and button holding Cutter's pants, and slowly pulled the zipper down, his shaft bulging through the underwear beneath. His pants slid easily to the floor, as Bridget pulled the shirt and jacket back and off his powerful arms. Bridget traced the outline of his straining member through the cotton of the boxers with one finger, Cutter's cock jumping with every touch of her hand.Hooking her fingers into the waistband, she sent it too toward the floor, where Cutter stepped free of the garments. His huge cock was fully free now, and it stood out erect in a gentle upward curve from above his wrinkled scrotum. The purple head seemed to throb as Bridget wrapped her long fingers around the thick shaft, running her hand over its length from head to base. She cradled his balls in one hand, while she slowly pumped his shaft with the other, her eyes riveted to the sight of it in her small hands. Cutter bent once again to kiss her, but she slipped easily from his reach. Uncrossing her legs, Bridget slipped down from her seat on the desk, to crouch before him. He stood, leaning upon his arms against the desk top, the smooth head of his dick swaying in the air just inches from Bridget's face. She kissed one thigh, and then the other, her tongue briefly flicking against his balls between each. As she squatted atop the stiletto heels, Bridget felt the warming wetness building in her cunt. She knew that the juices would spread out to the black lace panties soon and might even drip to the floor in this position, but she didn't care. Grasping Cutter's cock in her left hand, Bridget pulled the skin back toward his body, forcing it even tighter over the bulging head. The small hole in the end gaped open like a mouth as Bridget lightly tickled the swollen head of Cutter's cock with her wet tongue. Around and around, she circled the head, stopping occasionally to kiss the tip with her moist red lips. Cutter's breathing increased, and Bridget could see the muscles in his legs begin to ripple in pleasure. Softly, she wrapped her wonderfully supple lips around Cutter's meat, just behind the bulging rim of the head. Bridget's hot tongue flicked within her mouth along the sensitive underside as Cutter began to slightly thrust his hips forward and back. She knew his dick was aching to stroke fully in and out of her burning mouth, but she did not allow it. For ages she tortured him with the pleasure of holding the head of his cock in her mouth, her tongue working its way over the underside and the tip. Cutter's hands gripped the edge of the desk, and Bridget thought he just might rip it to pieces with those muscular arms. Slowly at first, and then at a faster pace, Bridget slid her red lips down Cutter's shaft all the way to the base and then back to the tip of the head. His huge cock threatened to gag her, but she concentrated and relaxed her throat to take him all the way in again and again. On each outstroke, the throbbing head of Cutter's dick slurped out of her mouth with an audible "pop", then it disappeared back into that wonderful, wet, hot heaven. With each pop, Cutter's body jerked and a low moan of ecstasy rumbled deep within. The thick shaft of his cock glistened with Bridget's saliva in the light of the desk lamp as it flew faster and faster in and out of her willing mouth. Cutter's knees bent slightly as he fucked Bridget's mouth with increasing intensity, the mass of her pulled-back hair cushioning her head as it bumped against the desk with every stroke. At the moment that Bridget felt Cutter edge toward losing control, she let the head of his cock slip completely out of her hungry mouth. It wavered there, straining like an animal that hungered for something it could not have. She angled it upward with her hand, her tongue tracing a long slow line from his balls to the tip, her large blue eyes looking up into Cutter's grey eyes with a look of hunger and lust that burned into his mind. Overcome by the heat of lust, Cutter wrenched his hands from the desktop at last, bent down, and gripped Bridget around her slim waist. With one effortless motion, he lifted her up to sit upon the edge of the desk top, papers and telephone spilling haphazardly upon the floor. Her legs spread willingly as they wrapped around his waist. Cutter pulled the top of her velvet dress down, freeing her round, heaving breasts. The diamond necklace sparkled fiercely in the light of the lamp as it lay nestled in the deep cleavage, rising and falling quickly as Bridget began to pant with lust of her own. Pushing the soft, rich fabric of the dress up around her waist, Cutter pulled on the flimsy lace panty. It tore away easily in his strong hands to reveal Bridget's heat-swollen pussy. The lips of her cunt were swollen with desire as the juices flowed glistening upon the desktop. Lowering his lips to her nipple, Cutter sucked forcefully as Bridget cast her head back, her hands pushing his head into her breast firmly. Cutter's cock needed no guidance to find the entrance of her hole as he spread her dripping cunt lips with one hand. He slid easily inside her warmth, the walls firmly tight around his wide shaft. Bridget braced her gloved hands against the desktop as Cutter slid his cock in and out of her burning hole. Cutter watched as his cock slid in fully, then back out completely, and then plunged in once again. He reached out taking one slim ankle in each hand, spreading her legs out wide to either side, the gold-tipped stiletto heels pointing out into the darkness of the room. Cutter stood before her, his hips thrusting faster and faster as the gleaming wet shaft of his cock buried itself inside Bridget again and again. Bridget loved being open to him like this, her long legs spread open with his enormous dick pumping in and out madly. She gritted her teeth, but the squeals and moans of delight would not be stifled. Thrusting her own hips to meet his plunges, Bridget grunted like an animal at the depth of every plunge as Cutter's cock rubbed against her now madly throbbing clit. The entire desk rocked with the force of their fucking, the small lamp wavering as it threatened to tumble onto the floor. Bridget felt herself reaching the brink of climax, and she strained to hold the moment back. She was in heaven, and she wanted the pleasure to last and last. Sensing that she was about to boil over, Cutter released her ankles and drew her writhing body fully upright, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist. He held her wrists in front of him and ceased his pumping. Bridget hunched on his still embedded shaft, squealing in frustration and pleasure as she tried desperately to fuck him. Her legs gripped him as she tried frantically to pump that marvelous cock in and out, but she just managed to squirm. Cutter held her gloved wrists in his iron grip as she struggled and fought like an animal in heat, her eyes burning with lust from behind the wild locks of her hair. Small plaintive cries passed her fevered lips as she begged him to fuck her. "This is your husband's office?" he asked softly. "Yessssss...." she hissed through clenched teeth, her hips grinding her dripping cunt along his throbbing cock. "You wanted to be in control. You wanted to fuck me on your husband's desk?" came the low voice again. "YESSSSssss..." she squealed loudly as she tried once again to free her hands and pull him in and out of her burning hole. "Then DO it...." Bridget ceased her struggles as Cutter slipped his glistening cock from inside her and pulled her off the desk top. Turning, Cutter lay back upon the top of the desk, his huge wet cock standing straight up like a steeple over his muscled stomach. Bridget understood immediately and scrambled to the top of the desk. She stood, her wild-maned head inches from the low ceiling. She straddled his prone body, one high-heeled foot on either side of his hips, her lovely legs shaking slightly from the building passion. Reaching back, she unzipped the dress and pulled it over her head, casting it aside into the shadows. One gloved hand ran through her hair, moving it back from her eyes as she looked down at her lover. The other hand slid between her spread legs, the moisture darkening the black glove further as she brought the fingers to her own lips. The taste of her own juices spurred her on as she crouched over Cutter's quivering tool, her own wetness causing it to glisten. Balanced on the gold-tipped heels, Bridget lowered herself onto the huge cock. Her heart jumped as the head entered her and the shaft slid easily within her hot tunnel. Her fingertips braced against Cutter's hard stomach as she began to slide up and down on the incredible pole. Harder and faster she fucked him, her body bouncing up and down, the heels of the shoes marring the polished surface of the desk. Cutter gripped the edges of the desk, his arms bulging as he strained in pleasure. Bridget's breasts bounced with every plunge she made upon the rock-hard shaft. Bridget felt herself reaching the edge once again, her breath punctuated by grunts each time she slammed down on Cutter's dick. Her pumping was frantic now, and her squeals and screams of pleasure echoed through the small office mingling with the moans and shouts of Cutter as he too reached the point of no return. "Oh...God...Yessss...HMMmmmmm...Unhhhhh," she wailed. Bridget felt the walls of her cunt contract hard against the iron cock within her. She pumped a few more times in rapid succession, then buried Cutter's shaft to its full length within her as she felt him explode inside her. Bridget fell forward, burying her lovely face in the downy hair covering Cutter's chest, her own hair spilling across his body and onto the desk top. The walls of her pussy continued to contract around Cutter's spewing cock as each wave of orgasm shook her body. Cutter's cum filled her to overflowing and the still hard cock continued to jerk within her as drops of his fluid overflowed to fall on the desk. They lay together, bodies exhausted and limp, his dick still deep inside her warmth. Bridget could not move at all for several minutes. Gradually, she gained some control and managed to raise her head and look at Cutter. He smiled that gentle smile at her once again, and she returned it freely. "Why, Mrs."Wentworth," he said, feigning shock once again, "what would the ladies of the Club say?" "My hero," she said softly, a wide smile splitting her beautiful red lips. Cutter pulled her, and her light weight slid easily up his body until her face was inches from his own. Finally, their lips met in a passionate, soft, warm kiss that lingered for an eternity. "Promise me," Bridget breathed, her eyes still closed from the kiss, "promise me we won't be apart again." "I swear," he answered. Bridget lay her head back down on her hero's chest. The sound of his large heart drumming in her ears. Surely, some of the party goers had seen them exit to the office together. And she could only imagine the expression on the faces of those close enough to hear what had taken place behind its closed door. But none of that mattered. What mattered was right here in her arms. She could figure all the rest out later, now that her Knight had arrived, armor and all.

Chapter 5

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11421.txt

Raped by Racists

"Please! Please don't!" she begged. "We'll show you what happens to girls who go out with niggers," the broad-shouldered man said. The blonde man tore her jacket open, then they shoved her back on her back in the grass, prying her legs wide. He knelt between her legs as the big man knelt above her head, holding her hands pressed down against the grass above her. The blonde guy leered down at her and then grabbed her blouse and tore it open. She gave a low cry and then resumed her weeping. His hands tore at her bra until it too parted. All three sighed in pleasure at the sight of her full, rounded breasts. "Nice fuckin' tits!" Her groin ached, her buttocks ached, her thighs ached, her head was pounding, and her tits felt cut and torn as they pinched and groped at her oversized nipples. Then the blonde man was kneeling in front of her. He gripped her hair and jerked her head up so hard she cried out in pain. "Suck me off, whore!" he snarled, shoving the cockhead at her lips. She gurgled in denial as his cock slid past her lips and into her mouth. She'd never sucked a cock before, but had no choice now as he gripped her hair hard and force-fed it to her. She slipped her tongue along the underside of the head, the way Susan had recommended, rubbing it over his cock as she sucked on it. He was holding her hair hard, and fucking his cock back and forth in her mouth, using her mouth like it was a cunt. Misty tried to push against his hips to slow his pace, to control the depth of the strokes, but he slapped her hands away. His cockhead kept smashing against the back of her mouth, against the entry to her throat, making her choke and cough and gag. "Deep throat me, nigger-lover girl," he hissed. "Take it in your throat!" She didn't know what he meant and stopped sucking. He cursed her and thrust hard, and his cock slid right down her gullet. Her eyes opened wide and she gave a brief chirp of horror before her voice was cut off, her throat blocked with cock meat. His prick slid right down into her throat until her nose was mashed against his belly, his cock hair grinding against her face. He groaned and slid his cock up and down in her throat as she slapped hysterically at his hips. He cuffed her again, and pulled his cock back out, rubbing the wet, drooling meat against her face. "Like that, nigger-fucker bitch?" he sneered. "I love these tits," he said, squeezing her left breast as he pulled completely out of her mouth. He pushed her onto her back, dropping to a straddling position above her torso. "Gimmie a tit fuck, whore!" he snarled. "Wha... what?" she whimpered. "Take your tits in your hands and fuck against my cock, you stupid nigger loving whore!" She looked down in shock at her breasts, then cried out as he slapped her face. "Come on, you cheap cunt, we ain't got all day!" She cupped her breasts fearfully as he lowered his cock into her cleavage; she wrapped her heavy breasts around it, squeezing his cock between them. He started to hump up and down as she pressed her tits around it, and she rubbed them from side to side as he sighed in pleasure. Her mind was numbed from the horror of what they were doing to her, and she was hardly thinking as he fucked her tits and she rubbed them against his cock. Suddenly, he moved forward and shoved it into her mouth again. She sucked helplessly as he pumped his load into her mouth. Then he pulled it out and held it in his fist right in front of her face. Pumping it frantically, more big wads of sperm shot out and hit her on the forehead. Another fat spurt of juice shot out and splattered on her nose, then more wads, a long stream of them, shot out onto her mouth, cheeks, nose and eyes. He laughed, then rubbed his cock in her hair and stepped back as the other men rolled her onto her stomach. The vicious oral invasion was the worst thing that had ever happened to her, but what was to come was still worse. Much worse. Her face was pressed flat into the dirt, her big breasts mashed beneath her. Then she felt her buttocks being spread roughly apart.... ....She felt something pry between her buttocks, but at first ignored it. Her mind was hardly working and she didn't realize what was going on. But as the pain mounted behind her it woke her a little, enough for her to understand what was happening. "Oh no! Oh please no!" she whimpered, struggling to pull away. Her asscheeks were cupped tightly by the short man's hands. He held her easily as he pressed his cock against her asshole. She sobbed and moaned and begged for mercy, but the three men only sneered and laughed as the short man worked his cock into her. She cried out in pain as the cock gave a lurch forward, penetrating her virgin anal hole. He slapped her ass hard, cursing her. The cock worked deeper, tearing her rectum apart as it drove into her. "Oh God!" she sobbed. "Oh my GOD!" "You love it, you nigger loving slut!" a voice said. "No! No! Don't do this to me! Please don't!" The cock thrust in hard and she cried out again. It began to pump slowly in and out, with short movements, gradually working its way deeper and deeper into her anus. She felt it push high up into her guts, and her belly cramped as her bowels filled with cock. "Ahhhh," he said, driving it in to the hilt, pressing his balls against her ass cheeks. "UHHHhhhhh! Uuuuuuhhhhhh!" Misty moaned. The cock tore backwards, then thrust in again. It pulled back, then pounded deeply into her. Soon it had torn her asshole wide open and was pumping easily. The man squatted behind her, holding her ass cheeks as he pumped the entire length of his cock up and down in her rectum. He groaned in pleasure as he watched his pole sliding back and forth through the girl's little round hole. The other man held Misty's shoulders into the dirt. She could hear him snigger as the short man sodomized her. Her big breasts were crushed under her and were scraping back and forth in the dirt as her body was jerked and pulled back and forth. She was still wearing her jacket and shirt, which had now slid down around her shoulders. She tried to pull some fragments of them beneath her to put between her swollen nipples and the hard sandy ground, but the man above her was jamming her shoulders into the ground too hard. The cock pounded in her asshole, reaming her out with furious, pistoning strokes. Again male hips hammered her buttocks. Her knees were grinding into the dirt just like her tits, shoulders and face, and she could feel the cold sand and dirt and grass between her bare toes. He held her buttcheeks wide open, and was fucking almost straight down into her rectum. The force of his thrusts smashed her pussy down harder in the dirt as he grunted in pleasure. Finally, the man dropped his load deep inside her anus, grunting with pleasure as he let it out.He slowed his pumping, then stopped, slapped her ass, and staggered away. The big man let go of her shoulders and moved behind her, though she didn't see him. She didn't move at all as he got down on his knees behind her. She was completely naked now, but Misty no longer cared. "Please, no more," she moaned in despair as she felt the larger man press his cock against her anus. She shuddered as he drove it into her to the hilt, then closed her wet eyes. The man pressed down on her shoulders, his belly coming down on her buttocks as he drove her flat on the ground. He fucked his cock up her anus for long minutes, his hands closing tightly around her throbbing breasts in front. Her entire body was crushed into the dirt, and she almost felt like she was a part of it. She ground back and forth, back and forth, back and forth in time to his fucking movements, then he groaned and she felt his seed pumping into her asshole. She lost consciousness. When she came to, she was laying flat, spread-eagled on the ground, naked, shivering with cold. Her pussy felt wet and she could see the stickiness on her chest between her breasts, could feel the sand sticking to her there, and between her legs. Her anus throbbed, and still felt stretched, her bowels still felt full. Slowly, she looked up, then tried to push herself up to a sitting position. Feeling a sharp, tearing pain in her rectum, she reached back and to her shocked horror realized that they had shoved a thick tree branch up her ass! She pulled it out slowly, each retreating inch causing her fresh agony. Finally, the jagged end pulled free, allowing her torn anus to close at last. She slowly made her way out of the field.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/13430.txt

Mesmer

Hypno-Poem

"Oh, come on," Julie said as she looked across the small table in the lounge room where she and David, her neighbor, sat in her home having morning tea. "You don't mean you're telling me that it actually works? Ha!" Julie liked David. He had always been good company for her in the mornings after her husband had left for work and before she had to start her boring days of never-ending housework and thinking about her life in general, which she always did while doing the boring housework. Sometimes, when she felt sick of her life and its boring routine, she would empty the trash and do other small things from the house wearing only her skimpy underwear, just for the hell of it. She wasn't an exhibitionist; Julie just wanted to do something different, which was why she had always found David's visits so uplifting. He was different in her life. David seemed to give her day a lift, such that she missed his visits when they didn't occur. Sometimes, though, his zealousness for believing things he had been told or had read in a book would go a bit over the top, like this one - hypnosis without consent. David smiled with a sigh, waiting for the right opportunity. He had liked his neighbor's wife for some time, so far though, only as a friend to talk to. She was a bored housewife, and he had always felt that his visits helped brighten up her otherwise long days alone in the house. He often saw her getting around the yard in her bra and panties while doing some outside chore. David had called over for his morning cup of coffee before leaving for class at the local university where he was studying psychology. He had just mentioned to Julie that he had been told it was possible to hypnotize someone without them even being aware it was happening, and now she was scoffing at the idea. She was the original cynic, and her answer was exactly what he had been expecting. He'd hoped she would answer that way, and, in fact, he knew she would the minute he thought of doing it. That was why he had done it - so he could then test it out on her and see for himself whether his idea based on what he had been told would work or not. "I can only tell you what I was told," David said with another deep sigh. "I know this guy, and he isn't the lying type, nor does he ever stretch the truth, at least, as long as I've known him." He was casting his baited hook, hoping her own intelligence and cynicism would be hungry. "Rubbish!" Julie said, with a dry laugh. "Maybe he did it with some dumb blonde who had the hots for him anyway." Then Julie laughed. Did he think she came down in the last shower, or what? Did she have "Idiot" written across her forehead? David laughed also, along with sensing that the opportune moment in time had just arrived. "I can tell you the exact same story he told me," he told her. "Then you can make up your own mind, if you like." That should do it, he thought. Take the bait. Take the bait. "Okay," Julie answered. "Just don't exaggerate anything. Just the facts - only what he said." She hated people who blew up the facts of something, just to support their own case for a win or acceptance of what they were saying. Still, it was better than the dreary daytime soapies she could be watching if he wasn't there each day. David agreed, smiling politely. "Okay," he began, making sure he was getting it right from the word go. He knew he had to hook her from the beginning, or he wouldn't have a chance. "Well," he began. "Tom had asked this girl - her name was Sue, if she wanted to participate in an experiment in hypnosis, and she agreed. He called in at her flat one morning for a cup of coffee, just like we're doing now, and he began to tell her the story of how he had hypnotized someone before." David noticed Julie's eyes widening slightly as she leaned forward on her elbows with her coffee cup in her hand as she listened. So far, so good, he thought. Time to pace it out now. She was nibbling the bait, a little, at least. "Anyway," David continued. "While he was telling her the story, Tom noticed that Sue began to study his face closely, very closely, in fact, as if she wanted to study one particular detail of his face that she found the most interesting to really study very closely, like she'd never noticed it before, while he talked, and she continued to listen very closely to every word he said, even though she was always really looking very interestingly at that special part of his face which she found so interesting she listened to every word he said, hearing every word and took it all in, even though she was studying his face in the most interesting manner he'd ever noticed anyone ever studying his face so closely before." Julie found herself looking at a small brown mole on David's cheek. It was shaped like a tiny starfish. She was listening to what he was saying, but was surprised she had never noticed it before, just like he was saying. David paused briefly to take a breath. She was taking the bait. Julie's eyes had widened and had then ceased to blink as he noticed her focusing her gaze somewhere on his left cheek. He also noticed she had returned her gaze to his eyes less and less as he continued to talk. And her face seemed to be relaxing. Her lips had parted slightly already, and she hadn't sipped her coffee since he had begun to talk. "And he noticed, as she watched and studied that really interesting part of his face so very closely, that she never really noticed before, she seemed to relax more and more, more relaxed, and was becoming more and more calm, with every easy breath she took and every soothing word she heard him say softly as she listened only to the soothing, soft sound of his voice, while she studied that special part of his face so closely, focusing right in on that special, interesting part to the exclusion of everything else, and listening to every relaxing, soothing word he said, and just kept relaxing more and more deeply, as she felt her mind and body really let go and relax completely, and her face just looked as if it was melting down and letting go, especially with all the muscles around her eyes and shoulders and neck becoming so very heavy and so very tired, she couldn't stop them from closing, relaxing, letting go, all by themselves, because they felt more and more heavy and more and more tired and wanted to relax and close, all by themselves, and then she just allowed them to do whatever they wanted, it was so easy and so natural, felt so relaxing, and they felt so tired and so heavy, that she just allowed them to relax and close down tightly, all by themselves, and then she relaxed twice as deeply, twice as calmly, feeling very good about herself, relaxing so beautifully and so deeply, and just letting everything go completely, breathing peacefully, relaxing more deeply, floating on a cloud, drifting deeper and deeper, so peaceful, so relaxed, so calm, feeling so good about herself, so good, so good, so relaxed, so wonderful, feeling so relaxed and calm." Somewhere along the line, Julie had been staring intently at the small mole on his cheek, and the next thing she became aware of was a feeling of incredible relaxation and tiredness as it washed over her from the top of her head to the tip of her toes. Her eyelids felt so heavy with each word he spoke. She just couldn't keep them open, and she tried. But it didn't worry her in the slightest. She felt so wonderfully relaxed and calm. David ceased talking with the last word and smiled immediately. Julie's eyes had closed almost as soon as he had mentioned them considering doing so. He gazed at her peaceful face and features. She breathed evenly and peacefully, her chest rising and falling gently with each easy breath she took. She still rested on her elbows on the table, her coffee cup still lightly clasped in one hand, tilting just a little forward.He had noticed Julie also give a deep, slow sigh when he had been cementing the relaxing suggestions through repetition. Her head hung slightly forward, with her beautiful long, red hair tied in a ponytail disappearing behind her shoulder. As he sat there wondering what to do next, David was very happy within himself. Then he got an idea. "Relax and let go," he said to his entranced neighbor. "And because you feel so wonderful and so naturally relaxed, it would probably feel a lot more comfortable if you could feel your beautiful red hair all let down and cascading down like a flaming red, soft waterfall all down over your relaxed shoulders and back, and feel the relaxed warmth as you let your hair fully down and free, like a beautiful red bird, free and beautiful, hair down, free and beautiful. And remember to forget everything you didn't notice to remember, since your unconscious mind will remember everything anyway, so you don't have to remember what you didn't need to notice in the first place. And allow your unconscious mind to remember your trance key, sleep time, and then forget I said it, which will bring you instantly back here to this relaxing place where you feel so good and so relaxed, whenever you hear me say your trance key, sleep time, that you can forget to notice to remember whenever I say it, and then forget I said it and come straight back here, eyes closed and relaxed so beautifully." Julie felt herself moving her limbs, but was disinterested and uncaring as to the reasons why. All she knew was that she felt so good. Her own special key for something or other, sleep time. Great idea. Yes, she thought. Anything to stay right where she was, wherever that was, she concluded as she let herself go even deeper into the calm and peace of mind of where she now found herself. David watched smiling as Julie's hand lowered the coffee cup to the table and then both hands came slowly up behind her neck and slipped off the band holding her thick red hair in place in the ponytail. It fell loosely and softly down around her shoulders and back. Her hands then came back down and rested with her forearms on the table once more. "You feel so good knowing now you can come back here anytime you hear me say your trance key, sleep time, and then you can forget I said it. Now you can come back to the sound of my voice, feeling really refreshed and feeling so good and alive and excited, and can come back slowly now, feeling fresh in the face and body and in your mind, as you become aware of my voice and the feel of the chair and the feel of the table and the feel of the floor beneath your feet. And when you are ready and feeling really aware and awake, you can feel your eyes open gently, all by themselves, and feel really good about everything, and wonder when we will start talking about whatever I came to talk about." David ceased talking and waited for Julie's eyes to open. After about three minutes, they slowly opened and blinked several times as she regained her focus. He began talking immediately. For some reason she couldn't figure out, Julie slowly became aware of her surroundings once again. She felt wonderful as the room and David's face and the tiny mole came back into her line of sight as her eyes lightly opened all by themselves. "And Tom then asked Sue how it felt to be hypnotized without her knowing it, and it happened exactly like that. Honest." Then he watched Julie as her focus and her mind, along with what she was hearing, conflicted everywhere in her consciousness and her immediate recollection of things. Her brow furrowed as the conflict went on, a puzzled look on her face as she held his gaze and flexed her fingers open and shut a few times. "Are you okay?" he asked sincerely. "I... ah... yes," she stammered. "Oh, I can't believe it! I must have drifted off! I'm sorry, David! Oh, how rude I am!" Julie found herself embarrassed in the extreme. She couldn't believe she'd gone off to noddy-land in the middle of a conversation with someone - daydreaming like a little schoolgirl. She felt hot and flushed. David laughed. "That's okay. Anyone with red hair as beautiful as yours is allowed to drift off every now and then." Julie's mouth laughed, but her eyes didn't. She had a new puzzle now, and her mind raced against the conflict going on in her conscious mind. She looked to her left shoulder and saw her hair let down and loose. She furrowed her brow even deeper. Her gaze shot from her hair to his eyes, then to her hair again, and then flew to the coffee cup on the table with the hair band resting next to it. She stared quickly back at him, the dawning of what had happened slowly, but surely becoming known to her conscious mind. David just sat there smiling softly at her. "David!" she exclaimed. "Did you...? Did I...? You didn't! Did you?" David couldn't help laughing aloud at the sight of her. Her eyes had opened as large as saucers. Her brow had wrinkled to her scalp with utter disbelief. Her mouth hung open in complete surprise at what her conscious mind was trying to tell her had happened, that she obviously had trouble believing. "Yep," was all he said, still grinning. "How else would your hair have gotten undone?" "I didn't!" Julie exclaimed again. "Did I? Did you? Oh, you couldn't have. I would have noticed. Wouldn't I? I would have remembered! Wouldn't I?" David laughed all the more harder at her confusion, such that the tears ran down his cheeks. In fact, so much so, that he couldn't stand to see the look on her face without laughing even harder. He looked down at the floor and wiped the tears from his eyes. Then he heard Julie sigh. He looked up at her once again. Julie sat rock-still, staring at him. She couldn't believe it - didn't want to believe it. It was impossible. She would have remembered. Wouldn't she? Her mind raced with her pulse at the very thought of it being true. Surely not, but her hair-band? How did it...? And the thought died at birth as the dawning of realization filtered slowly down through her consciousness. "You did! Didn't you?" Julie accused him, admitting it more to herself than accusing him of doing so. "You hypnotized me without me being aware that you did! And then you made me forget that you did as well as let my hair down, just to prove that you did! Didn't you?" "Yep," was all he answered, but he was still smiling at the memory of how confused she had looked. It took all of his inner strength not to burst out laughing again. "Well!" Julie said with a defeated sigh. "I'll be damned!" And then slowly, a nervous, yet strangely-excited smile trying to creep across her face. She felt her eyes deepen and become milky. David just smiled and began to sip his cold coffee. Julie looked down at hers as he did so. She was wondering as he sipped, whether or not she should get them more coffee. David was wondering if he should try her trance key and see if it worked, or maybe, he played with, he should quit while he was ahead. "Would you like another coffee?" Julie said, interrupting his thoughts of testing her trance key. "That must be cold." Then, "David, you really did! Didn't you?" she exclaimed as she rose from her chair smiling and scooped up his coffee cup as if he'd done something naughty. "Yep," was all he said as he handed her the cup and grinned up at her. Julie was back in five minutes with fresh coffee. As she sat opposite him once again, she had a strange look on her face as she glanced at him between silent sips. And Julie knew that was exactly how she felt - strange, and excited. "And what else did you do while I was hypnotized without me knowing it that you've conveniently made me forget?" David laughed aloud, almost spilling his coffee in the process. He lowered it to the table gently. "Nothing," he chuckled, and that was all he said, leaving her to ponder the what-ifs all by herself, while he just kept sipping slowly on his coffee. Julie's eyes never left him, nor did the strange look ever leave her face as she drank her own coffee slowly. David had not yet decided whether to test her trance key or not while he looked innocently at her suspicious face as she studied him in disbelief. "Could you have done that?" she asked softly. "You know - taken advantage of me while I was hypnotized?" Her mind raced. Surely she would have felt him penetrate her if he had. David laughed again. "Don't you think you would have remembered that?" he said. And with that said, Julie suddenly glanced down at herself, inspecting her blouse. Then she looked down lower, at her waist for several seconds before finally looking back up at his smiling face and eyes. Everything felt normal, except that she was beginning to feel powerful in all the wrong places for such an incredible conversation and happening. But her hair? She wondered incredulously. Her hair? "I didn't remember letting down my hair. Did I?" she countered suspiciously to his question. It was all he could do to not burst out laughing, but he managed it somehow. "That's amazing!" Julie admitted. "It's absolutely amazing!" Julie was blown away. She just couldn't believe what her mind told her was true, whether she liked it or not. It was true. "Yep," was all David said, and continued to drink his coffee while holding her gaze in his own and smiling softly. Then, on impulse, he added, "What would you do if I had done it?" he asked her. Her eyes widened over her coffee cup. "I...I don't know," she answered hesitatingly. "I guess...if I couldn't remember what you did, then I...I couldn't do anything about it."Could I?" Julie's heart pounded, for more reasons than one. David just smiled as he took another sip of his coffee. He waited until she was looking right into his eyes. Then: "Sleep time," he said soothingly, softly, drawing it out. "What?" she said, stopping her sipping action. "Sleep, what?" And as she stared questioningly at David's expressionless face, Julie felt herself, her mind and her senses, hit with a wave of tiredness the size of the hugest tidal wave she had ever experienced, a wave on which she now found herself willingly just going along for the beautiful ride. David's heart skipped a beat. It wasn't working. But as he continued to look at her, he saw her blink heavily. While he was holding her gaze and trying to decide if he should say her trance key again, her eyelids fluttered and closed down. They continued to flutter while they were closed for a few seconds, and then they were still. Then Julie took a deep breath and sighed. "Deeper and deeper, relax and just let yourself go, and take time out and really enjoy the feeling of being so deeply relaxed and so deeply hypnotized, while you listen to your pretty poem and want to do and then remember to forget it after you've learned it off by heart, then you can want to do your pretty poem and then forget it after you've learned it off by heart, and know you want to do your pretty poem and allow yourself to relax and enjoy being hypnotized so deeply because it makes you feel so good to be so relaxed and know your pretty poem so deeply and want to do your pretty poem and so deeply hypnotized, you can learn your pretty poem and then want to do your pretty poem and then forget to remember it as soon as you're sure you've learned it off by heart, then you can forget to remember it. Is that clear?" My very own special poem, Julie thought, as she reflected on the words and the rhythm of David's voice. David saw Julie's head nod slightly and he smiled. Then he continued. "Say your pretty poem after me now," David began. "Either out loud or silently to yourself. And each time you hear yourself say it, it will sink deeper into your mind, and you will always relax more and more as you remember to forget that you know it and will remember to forget that you will follow your poem in everything it means and everything it says when I say the first line, and you will remember to say the rest and relax deeply into a hypnotic trance or stay awake if I tell you. Is that clear?" Julie tried to speak, but no sound came from her mouth. She felt too relaxed and too good to even try to make the sound. So she decided to just think them like he said she could. Once again David saw the slight nod of Julie's head as she continued to breathe evenly and deeply. He began saying the special conditioning poem. "Now to listen, for your greater cause, and soon my thoughts will all be yours. Listening now to the soothing sound, awake I'll do, as I am bound." David then repeated the poem several times to Julie, who, although she said nothing aloud as he spoke, mouthed the words silently as she followed his slow speech in saying it over and over again. Then, once more he gave her instructions in bringing herself back to full awareness of where she was, along with feelings of freshness and vitality. Sue awoke feeling brighter than she had felt for a long time. She blinked several times and then looked directly at David. Her face felt full of confusion again as she listened to him continue talking about something she hadn't heard until now. Then she saw him start to get up from the table. "Anyway," he said, getting up from his chair. "It's been interesting to say the least, Julie, but I really have to be going now, or I'll be late. Maybe we could continue this conversation again sometime, if you'd like?" Julie's face felt and showed a mixture of confusion and disappointment at his leaving. She got up and walked him to the door. By the time he turned to say goodbye, she had recovered to her former cheery self and smiled. He looked deeply into her smiling eyes only a foot away from her face as he smiled goodbye. "See you later," she chirped cheerily, one hand on the door, ready to close it, wondering how the rest of her day was now going to go after such a strange beginning. "Now to listen for your greater cause," he said soothingly. Then he watched as her eyes took on a far away look, along with a relaxing of her face as her eyelids gently fluttered several times, and then finally closed. Julie felt herself suddenly go all fuzzy and light in the head. Her eyes had trouble focusing and were feeling very tired. Something was running around in her head. A tune or a song or something. It felt like it was trying to get out, sort of like an animal in a cage. Then she felt her mouth open as the words in her spinning senses came hesitatingly, yet clearly out through her lips. "And soon my thoughts will all be yours. Listening now to the soothing sound, awake I'll do as I am bound," Julie said hesitatingly. David watched the sight before him. Julie stood leaning against the door, one hand resting lightly half-way up along the edge - the other hanging limply by her side. Her eyes were closed and she breathed evenly and gently. "I'll go now, you count to ten, then close the door and begin your day again," he told her soothingly. Then he turned and walked quickly to the large tree at the front of her yard to watch what she did. After about a minute, Julie opened her eyes, looked around to the left and right, then smiled and closed the door, wondering what she had been thinking about as she had held the door open when she had so much to do before her soapies began. David grinned, turned and went quickly towards the school, happy with the first day's experiment in what was surely going to be his thesis, knowing the little poem he had taught her was yet to prove its worth in every possible way he could think of. Julie had David's coffee waiting for him as he walked into her kitchen the next morning. Her husband had left at the usual time, and now she sat waiting for David, dressed in her morning robe, her hair done up in a ponytail, as it always was. "Hi!" he said, dragging the chair out and sitting on it. "How can anyone sound so alive first thing in the morning?" she smiled drily. "I sleep well," David countered, raising the coffee to his lips. "Thanks." "You're welcome," Julie answered. "Busy day?" "Yep," was all he said. "Is that your favorite word these days?" she asked. "Yep," he grinned. "David. I've been thinking about yesterday, and what... you know... what you did - hypnotize me, I mean." "And?" David answered, curious. "Well. Ahh...could you have done that, really? Without my knowing, I mean?" "Don't be silly," he said, smiling. "You've been watching too many movies." "Why do you ask?" "It's just that, well, I've been feeling funny, sort of," Julie said. "Funny?" he queried. "It's hard to describe," Julie went on, her brow furrowing. "It's just that I... I feel like... I feel different... somehow." "I never touched you," David defended with a mock grin as he threw his hands up in the air. "Honest." "No, it's not that. I don't think. I'm sure I would have remembered that. It's something else, but I can't put my finger on it. That's all. And it's bothering me." "Now to listen to your greater cause," David said soothingly. Julie's face frowned all over. Her eyes widened, fluttered several times, and then closed. He waited a few seconds, hoping. "Soon my thoughts will all be yours. Listening now to the soothing sound, awake I'll do as I am bound," Julie began to say the remainder of the poem. "That's fine," David said soothingly, softly. "You're doing perfectly. And you can nod your head if you've realized that you are now deeply hypnotized again, just like you were yesterday." He smiled as Julie nodded her head. "And do you know what your special poem means?" he asked her. She nodded again. "You may tell me now with your voice," he instructed her. "What each line means to you as your very own special poem." "Now to listen," Julie began, with her eyes still shut. "Means, I must listen right now. To my greater cause means that somehow, what I'm listening to is for my own good, the big picture. Soon my thoughts will all be yours, means that somehow we're going to exchange thoughts. Listening now, means the same thing as before. To the soothing sound, means the soothing sound of your voice as you talk to me. Awake I'll do what I am bound, means that when I'm awake and not hypnotized, I'll do what I'm bound to, or told to, I guess." David grinned. He couldn't have explained it better himself, so he didn't try. "Count yourself up to ten now, silently, to yourself, and when you reach ten your eyes will open and you'll feel a lot better than you did before I hypnotized you again without you knowing it. And you won't remember a thing of what we've just said except how good you feel all of a sudden. Is that clear?" "Yes," she answered. "That's fine. Start counting now." He watched and waited until her eyelids blinked open several times, then began speaking as if there had been no break in their conversation at all. "Yes, Jules," David said. "One too many strange movies about hypnotized victims, I think." Then he smiled at her and sipped his coffee. Julie looked a little confused. Then she shrugged and began to drink her coffee."You actually look a lot better than you did when I first came in," he told her. "Must be the sight of my energy every morning after I arrive that perks you up, or the coffee." Julie laughed and drained the rest of her coffee. "Want another?" she asked as she got up from her chair and reached for his cup. "Okay," he said, handing it to her and capturing her gaze as he did so. "And when you come back with it, please come back without any clothes on. Is that clear?" David's heart was in his mouth. Would it work, or would it not? Julie's eyes flew open instantly. She froze with her hand on his cup, her gaze locked tightly onto his. Her lips were parted as if she had been about to say something, but had then changed her mind. "Is that clear?" he repeated softly, soothingly. "Err, no. I mean ... err. yes...sure...I mean .. it's clear," she stammered, her gaze not leaving his for a moment. "Okay," he smiled. "Off you go then. I'm really looking forward to that coffee. You make wonderful coffee." He could see her confusion, but he had spoken soothingly and softly, yet firmly and naturally, as if he had asked her to do the most natural thing in the world, one that she shouldn't even be questioning. He released his hand from the cup she had also been holding. Then he looked down at the table and began doodling on the top with his forefinger. David was aware of her continuing to look at him for several seconds before she slowly turned around and disappeared into the other room. Then he let out the breath he'd been holding. His heart pounded against his rib cage and his mind raced. For all he knew, she could come back with the cops or a gun. Or, she could very well come back completely nude. Julie returned within a few minutes with two fresh cups of coffee - minus her robe and underwear. She was completely naked as she placed his coffee on the table before him and then sat in her own chair. Her face was deadly serious as she rested her forearms on the table and just sat there staring at him. "You look absolutely gorgeous," he told her soothingly. "David," she said suddenly. "Why did you ask me to.. do .. this?" He looked her square in the eye as he answered. "Just for fun, to see what you'd say. You know, brighten up your day and all that," he said. "More importantly, why did you do it? You didn't have to. Did you?" "I ... I didn't want to," Julie answered softly in a hushed tone of voice. "I did, I know, but .. but I didn't want to .. even as I was doing it." "And how do you feel now?" David asked her. "Really. Be honest." "David!" Julie exclaimed in a hushed tone. "This isn't right! You know that!" "Then why on earth did you do it?" he answered her. "Out for some cheap thrills at my expense to brighten up your own boring day at home?" He regretted it the instant he'd said it. Julie dropped her gaze from his and stared down at the table. The scarlet blush started half-way up her beautiful breasts and just kept right on going before his eyes, but he said nothing. Too late to take it back now, he realised. After a few minutes of silence, Julie looked back up at him, her face a deep blushing red. "No," she said softly. "It wasn't because of that. It was because you .. because .. you told me to." "Because I told you to?" David answered her with mock surprise. "Yes," Julie said softly. "It .. It must be that. Why else would I have done it?" "Then if I'm to believe you," David said as he looked her square in the eyes. "If I told you, right now, to get up and come around here, and stand with your legs spread wide, that you'd have no hesitation in doing it, even if you didn't want to, just because I told you to do it, right now, without you saying a single word, and just do it?" "No!" Julie exclaimed. "I didn't mean that! I meant .. I meant . Oh, no! Nooo!" David watched as Julie slowly rose from her chair and came around to stand beside him. He turned his chair to face her as she adopted a wide-legged stance, her thick and lush flaming red thatch of pubic hair, with its long curly strands of red flame whipping down along each high upper-inside thigh. He couldn't take his eyes off her fiery-looking junction for several long seconds. When he did, he was as hard as a rock of granite. "Oh, no!" Julie exclaimed softly, but emphatically. "No, David! Please! This is wrong! I'm married! We can't do this!" David raised his eyes from the apex of her red centre. Hers were wide with confusion. "We are not doing this," he told her soothingly. "You are, and, you did. I didn't. Remember?" "Yes, but...Ohhh! What's happening to me?" she said in a worried tone. "I guess you're just doing what you've always wanted to," David replied. "No!" she answered instantly. "I would never be unfaithful to my husband. Never!" "Okay," David said. "Then I guess you better go and get dressed, before you do something else you wanted to do, but didn't want to." Then he quickly added, "After you kneel down right now and take me in your mouth as wonderfully as you can." "No! David! Please! No! I can't!" she implored him, the tears forming rapidly in each of her eyes. "Well, try and stop yourself then," he told her. He watched Julie sink slowly to her knees before him, all the while saying she didn't want to and couldn't, but she did anyway. Even when her hands undid his trousers and grasped gently onto his rampant rigidity, she was still saying she couldn't do it. She only stopped talking when she had fed his length into her mouth, taking it as deeply as she could, again and again into the humid depths of her mouth and throat. David listened to her mumbling as she mouthed him solidly for about ten minutes. When the warning signs were felt, he knew it was time to stop. "You can stop doing that now, if you want to," he told her. She did instantly. "And you can stand up and turn around, then lower yourself down onto me and move yourself in the most sensuous manner you can imagine, quickly finding that you're going to climax intensely before I do." "No! David! We can't! Please!" she begged him. "Then try and stop yourself from doing it," he said. Julie protested all the while as she slowly got to her feet and turned around, lowering herself down until he felt the girth of his lance resting against the warm, slick lips of her red jade gates. He moaned as the moist heat of her junction drew him further inside her flaming red, slick centre with the lowering of her hips and buttocks down and down and down, until she had fully impaled herself on his entire length and girth. Even between her protests, Julie moaned as he filled her channel to the very back, touching firmly on her cervix when she'd fully settled. "David! We can't! Ooohh, God!" she continued to protest as her hips and buttocks began an undulating, back and forth, round and round, lifting and rocking motion that threatened to bring him undone within seconds. "But I want you to like it," he told her soothingly. Julie ceased her protests instantly and began to moan and groan with each deep penetration her sensuous actions caused. "Oh, my God!" she moaned. "David! Ooooh, yes! Oooh God! Ooh! Oh! Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnn! Ooooooooyeeeeeeeeesssss!" she cried as she fired herself down on his spear and ground herself firmly against his impalement as her intense orgasm washed over her from head to toe. It was all David could do to stop himself from tipping over his own edge as Julie thrashed and ground herself against him, pumping her hips and buttocks rapidly up and down, around and around, back and forth, sheathing herself like a scabbard on its sharp sword, over and over again, until finally, she slumped forward with a deep, guttural groan, her head hanging down, with her hands supporting the weight of her upper torso by resting on her knees. Her breathing came in ragged gasps, and short, sharp pants. David sat very still, trying desperately to deal with his own problem, but extremely glad she had stopped moving. "Did you like that?" he asked in a soothing voice. "Ye...yes," she answered in two pants. "I want you to lift yourself up and lower yourself down slowly again, taking me fully between your buttocks," he told her. "No! David! No!" she shouted at him defiantly, but was already slowly lifting herself upwards from the base of his lance, even as she protested. He held her buttocks apart, guiding himself by feel as she lowered her hips back down again, until finally she stopped, his already slickened spear resting gently at the tiny tight entrance between the warmth of her two ample, soft cheeks. "No! David! I don't want to! I've never ... ahhhh!" She cried as she continued to lower herself downwards onto his slippery shaft. "Ooooooooohhhhhhhnnnnnnnooooooo!" she cried out as she took him fully by length and girth, deeply inside the tight confines of her bottom, finally settling herself fully down, impaled like a pig on a spit. David heard her breathing become ragged again as she started to move slowly around and around in the same rocking and lifting motion as she had when she had plundered her other channel on his long, thick spear. "Ooooh, god!" Julie cried out as she lifted herself each time, higher and higher, driving herself down a little more firmly each time. "Oooommmyyyygoooooooood!" "I want you to come now," he told her. And the instant he said that, Julie began to pump herself up and down on the entire fullness of his length, pistonning herself up and down like the engine of a car, racing headlong towards her second powerfully intense orgasm for the morning.Her buttocks twisted left and right, thrashing themselves wildly from side to side as she lifted and rocked herself violently on her impalement like a stuck pig. Then her breathing shuddered. She suddenly slammed herself down hard on his lance and threw her head back, her flaming red hair whipping him painfully across the face. "Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnoooooooo!" she cried as her orgasm overtook her mind and senses. "Oooooooooooooooooooooohhhhhnnnnnoooooooooooo!" David couldn't believe the tightness of her contracting backside. It was milking him, or trying to, at least, drawing him deeper than it was physically possible for him to go. But he held onto her hips with fingers of steel while Julie had the ride of her life, until once more, she collapsed and sat still, firmly implanted and impaled on his length and girth. David waited until her breathing had calmed. Then he spoke soothingly and softly to her. "I want you to get up now, then turn around and kneel before me. Then I want you to suck me to completion. And while you're doing it, I want you to have two powerful and intense orgasms all joined together," he told her. Julie didn't say a word. She lifted herself slowly off his still rigid hardness and knelt before him, taking it swiftly into her warm mouth and deeply down into her throat. Within minutes, David felt the razor sharpness of her teeth as they clamped tightly on his shaft with the rapid arrival of her first orgasm. She sucked and drew him in and out as she writhed with her head impaled now on his lance. He could take it no longer and exploded in time with the arrival of her second intense orgasm. David felt himself emptying deeply inside her throat. His fluids gushed forth in abundance. He felt her jaws and mouth close around him, stripping his length, milking him, draining the vital fluids from his mind as well as his body, until finally, she stripped his softening member with the firmness of her gums and drained him of his last drop. "I want you to get us both a coffee now," he told her as she sat staring down at the floor after she had settled back on her haunches. "And while you're there, you can put your robe back on and forget any of this ever happened. That way, you'll have nothing to feel guilty or embarrassed about. Then you'll be back to your charming self again. That is what you want, isn't it?" "Yes," she whispered heavily, without looking up at him. "And after I go, you can go straight to bed, because you will feel very tired after I leave and will sleep well into the afternoon. But you'll wake up refreshed and feeling the best you've felt in a long while. Is that clear, and is that what you want?" "Yes," she whispered heavily again. Then she rose tiredly to her feet and walked slowly towards the kitchen. David dressed himself and waited. Julie was back within five minutes, dressed in her robe, her ponytail back where it had been. She smiled at him as she handed him his coffee. "Gee, I feel really tired today," she complained as she sat and sipped her coffee. "Giving your husband too much love, no doubt," David answered her whining with a grin. "Ha!" she smirked. "No such luck. For me, I mean. He's always working on something or other until late, most nights." David grinned. "It's hard at the top," he smirked back at her as he finished his coffee. "Have to go. Thanks for the talk. Great, as usual." He then said, rising from his chair. "What exactly did we talk about this morning, David?" she asked him as she walked him to the door. "What we always talk about," he answered. "Basically, nothing." Then he laughed, and so did she. "You didn't do any of that hypno-stuff on me and made me forget it, I hope," she laughed as he passed by her and walked through the door and outside to turn and face her. "Julie," he said with a smile. "Even if that could be done, do you really think you wouldn't remember it?" "Not with my memory!" she said confidently. David laughed as he waved goodbye and walked down her driveway and off to university for the day, wondering if he should give up his studies and become a full-time poet. Julie shut the door and walked back inside, suddenly feeling very tired. As she dragged herself up the stairs towards her bedroom to have a sleep, she wondered why her bottom felt so sore and tender when she walked. She reached down between her legs and felt herself, noticing for the first time the wetness and warmth. Her brow furrowed as she began to think. Almost simultaneously, she lost the thought of what she was even thinking about as wave after wave of incredible tiredness began to wash over her mind and body from head to toe. It was all she could do to haul her tired, leaden body into the bedroom and flop down, almost asleep before she hit the soft, warm covers. Her last thought was lost to her consciousness as soon as it arrived, just before the sandman closed her eyes and sent her deeply to sleep. "Hypno-bullshit," was the thought that got lost in Julie's mind before it arrived. "Nobody could be penetrated and not remember it." She sighed, and then fell deeply into the dark abyss of exhausted and very satisfied sleep. * * * Another Happy Ending By Mesmer.

Chapter I

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/17654.txt

M. Quayle

A "Farrell" Story (Late for Dinner)

"I can't wait to get this thing off me!" Kathy tugged at the bright orange chastity belt. "I can't believe I've been locked in it since Saturday." Mommy patted Kathy's stocking-covered knee. "Just be patient, Sweetheart," she idly thumbed through a six-month-old copy of Ladies Home Dungeon, "I'm sure we won't have to wait long." But Kathy couldn't sit still. She hated waiting rooms, she hated old magazines, and the pain killer the doctor had given her before inserting the butt plug had long since worn off. "This thing's killing me," the blonde girl shifted from one cheek to another as the bulbous rubber stopper pulsed inside her poop shoot. Christi looked up from her copy of Submissive Bride, "here, this will take your mind off your bottom," she pointed to a photo spread of twin girls bound for matrimony. "Look, matching hers-and-hers wedding gowns with linking clit chains, isn't that neat!" "I don't care," Kathy pouted. "If the doctor doesn't get me out of this thing soon, I'm not going to give him a blowjob or anything!" "That's enough," Mommy corrected, "a lady never says 'no'." She stroked her daughter's budding breasts, "I think you'll be singing a different tune when he takes out that nasty old plug." "I'm sorry, Mommy," Kathy snuggled against the older woman's shoulder, "it's just that it hurts and I'm so hungry. I haven't had anything except soda and semen since Saturday." "You had me three times last night," Christi teased, "but I guess she-food is pretty low-calorie fare." "Oh, yeah, and I'm really horny, too," Kathy whined and kicked her feet. "Well," Mommy kissed her daughter sweetly. "I'm sure we can take care of that little problem, if the doctor doesn't satisfy you first." "One guy satisfy me?" Kathy's mood brightened, "just whose daughter do you think I am?" The nurse opened the inner-office door, "Kathy, the doctor will see you now." "It's about time," Kathy followed the white-clad woman down the hall to the examination room and hopped up on the table. "Well, hello, Pool Shark." The doctor smiled, zipped his pants and said good-bye to his last patient -- a pretty lady whose face he had decorated with a fashionable swath of frothy white semen. "And how are you doing today?" "Not as good as you'll be once you get this thing off me." Kathy gave him her best come-hither look. "I'll be happy to thank you any way I can," she cooed, "and my Mommy and my fiancée are here, too, if I need reinforcements." "Well," the doctor unlocked the chastity belt and slipped it from around Kathy's slender, inviting waist. "I thought you might want to join some friends of mine for a few rounds of miniature golf." "Hey, wait a minute," Kathy protested. "I got locked in that thing because a bunch of guys used me for a pool table, now you want me to be a putting green?" She winced as he pulled out the catheter then turned around so he could remove the painful plug. "Well, the balls are a lot smaller and they don't travel nearly as fast," the doctor popped the plug then spread her nether lips for a latex-gloved inspection, "but considering what you've been through you'd probably have more fun being the 19th hole, you know, in the clubhouse." "Oh, yeah," Kathy smiled, "I'd really like that." She squeezed his probing fingers with her well-toned vaginal muscles. "And I really like, like, like, like your bedside manner," she stammered as the trained medical professional released her pent-up tension and transformed her into a puddle of pleasure on the examining room table. "Then let's get your mother and your girlfriend and head for the club," the doctor helped the pleasantly pacified girl to her feet. "One thing, doctor," Kathy paused, "my girlfriend, Christi, was really disappointed when she didn't get to play pool the other night. Do you think she could," she fondled his crotch, "you know, play a few rounds?" "No trouble at all," the doctor puffed up from the pretty blonde's attention, "after all, I own the course." Kathy clapped her hands and kissed the handsome man on the cheek. "Oh, thank you doctor, but," she smiled a naughty smile, "I better warn you, she may not want to give the guys their balls back."

Chapter 33: The 19th Hole

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/18307.txt

deirdre

Closet

"Sheila?" She didn't answer. I'd knocked on their back storm door, but there hadn't been any answer. The door was wide open, so I'd opened the storm door and called her. I knew she had to be around. I stepped into the kitchen and peeked into the living room. "Sheila?" Still no answer. The house seemed deserted. "Yes." It was her voice, but for some reason, I felt a little confused. Maybe because she waited so long to answer. It came from their bedroom. I had a twinge of doubt about walking into their bedroom, but she had called. The door was almost shut, and I pushed it open. I froze in horror! Randy, who was standing in the middle of the bedroom, looked at me in surprise. Sheila was in the closet! She was facing into the closet with her wrists tied to the clothes bar and she was completely naked! She had a blindfold on and was wearing earphones. Randy, who was fully dressed, held a whip in his hand! Randy put his finger across his lips, signaling me to keep quiet. Suddenly, I felt more than horror--I was afraid! What was going on here? "Don't talk too loudly," Randy said quietly. "Randy!" I hissed. I was afraid. I knew Randy pretty well, or thought I did, but this? She never told me he ever hit her. Had he gone off his rocker? "Cindy, don't panic!" he said. He seemed about to panic himself. I think he was sensing what I was thinking. "Watch this," he went on. He walked over to Sheila and indicated to me again to keep quiet. I don't know why, but for some reason, I stood there like a statue. He took off Sheila's earphones. "OK, ready to get down?" he asked her. "Honey, what's the matter?" asked Sheila. "Nothing," he answered. "Aren't... you going to do it? Whip me?" "Let's stop now." "No! You can't get ready and then just stop! Please?" I couldn't believe what she was saying. Obviously, this was something they did together. I'd never *heard* of such a thing! Well, I'd heard of it, but never knew anyone who'd do it! Sheila and Randy! My own best friend; my next door neighbors! I guess what I never knew was anyone who ever admitted to doing it. "Please honey? Don't stop," Sheila went on. "What do you want me to do?" asked Randy. "Whip me!" "Are you sure?" "Yes, honey! Please! Now!" "OK, I'm going to whip you. Two times." He shook out the whip. It was small--actually a riding crop. Then he swung it at her, and it smacked her right on the rear. She let out a groan. Then he repeated it, and she groaned again. "Did you like that?" he asked. "Yes!" "Now what do you want?" "Whip me again! Please!" "Are you sure?" he asked. "Yes! Yes, honey, I'm sure. Again!" He stood there for a second. "Please honey!" she said. "Would you like someone to... *see* you get whipped?" "Oh my god!" she answered. "How would you like me to get Cindy in here to watch? Would it turn you on to have Cindy in here, watching me whip your rear like that?" She didn't answer. "Would it make you wet? To have Cindy see you like this?" He paused, and the room was silent for a second. "Yes." Her voice was small. "Aha! You just think of Cindy right here, and I'm going to whip you two more times! She's going to watch you groan and beg just like you always do." "Yes!" He didn't answer but swung the whip around again and whipped her rear again. And again. She groaned some more. "Did you like that?" "Yes!" "What would Cindy think of you, begging to be whipped like that and getting off on it?" She didn't answer, but she was breathing louder and louder. After a little while, he looked at me and spoke again: "How would you like Cindy to take the whip and whip you herself? You'd get off on that, wouldn't you?" "Yes!" came her breathy answer. He smiled and then reached out and took my wrist. He drew me to where he was behind Sheila. He put the whip in my hand. "OK, this time think of Cindy holding the whip." "Oh yes!" "She sees you like this and is thinking about whipping you herself." "Oh yes, honey! Yes!" "You'd better ask her to whip you. Ask Cindy." "Yes! Please whip me!" "Ask Cindy. Think of Cindy back here." "OK. Please whip me, Cindy!" I had the whip in my hand. I stared at her. "Ask her again. Beg her." Randy went on. "Please whip me, Cindy. Please?" Randy took my hand and guided me into hitting her rear with it. It didn't come out nearly as hard as he had done. He nodded to me to get me to do it again myself. I did it. "Did you like having Cindy whip you?" asked Randy. "Yes! Harder! Please honey!" "Cindy's just learning to use the whip. Thank her and ask her again." "OK. Thank you Cindy! Please whip me again, harder." Randy nodded to me again. I did it again twice. I got better at it and did it harder. "Was that better?" asked Randy. "Yes! More, please, more! Harder!" "Say please to Cindy." "Please Cindy!" "You know, I could kiss Cindy while she's whipping you." "Oh my god!" she answered. He moved closer to me. I stood there--I should have stopped this. I looked up at him. He lowered his face and touched his lips to mine. Then he smiled and nodded. I whipped her again. "She kisses nice," he said. "Would you like to kiss her?" "Oh yes!" "But now she's just going to whip you. You like Cindy whipping you?" "Yes! Yes!" I whipped her again. "I think she's beginning to enjoy whipping you. I think I'll unbutton her blouse." What was I getting myself into? "Yes!" he answered. His fingers started down the buttons of my blouse. "She must be excited from whipping you. She's letting me do it. Should I strip her naked?" "Yes!" "You want Cindy naked?" "Yes!" He had my blouse off and was taking off my bra. "Why? Do you like Cindy's body?" He was quietly unbuttoning my jeans! "Yes!" "You want to see it?" "Yes!" "Well, you won't see it now." I had just panties on, and he slipped them down to my knees! "But she'll be naked while she whips you!" He nodded to me to whip her again. I was getting better, and sometimes she'd groan when I did it. "How do you like being whipped by Cindy with her naked?" "Yes! I *love* it!" "Right here in this room. Naked. Whipping you." "Yes!" "Do you want her to whip you some more?" "Yes!" "She's naked. What should I do to her now?" He was fingering my nipple. I was going crazy. "Fuck her!" I almost choked. I couldn't believe she was saying this. "What?" Randy asked, obviously playing dumb. His hands were roaming down my body. My clitoris. It was hard to remain standing. "Fuck her! Fuck her good!" "You want me to fuck Cindy while she whips you?" He'd grabbed a chair and was sitting right next to me! He was unzipping his pants! "Yes!" "Why?" His cock was sticking straight up! "She *needs* it! She *needs* a hard fucking!" "Your best friend? You want me to fuck your best friend hard?" "Yes! Yes!"I was still riding his cock, and his finger was in my rear! I couldn't believe how excited I was, but I'd never had anything there! "You want my cock in her rear?" "Yes! Do it good!" His finger pushed further! It was too much! I managed to keep quiet as I came and came. "You made her come." "Yes!" "Would you like her to touch you?" "Oh god, yes!" Randy lifted me to standing and stood behind me. He guided me close to her. We knelt next to each other right behind her. "Would you like her to make you come?" He leaned his head next to mine as he talked. "Yes!" He guided my hand between her legs. My fingers were right on her vagina. "OK, she's touching you. You like that, don't you?" "Oh god!" She was coming again. I hadn't done much more than just touch her a little. I was in a daze and just did what Randy had me do. Sheila calmed down again, and Randy drew me away again. "Cindy has to go now," he said. "Oh god!" "You'd better thank her." He had my clothes and pushed them into my hands. I started getting dressed. "Thank you!" "Say 'Thank you Cindy'." "Thank you Cindy!" I was almost dressed. "OK, she's going to leave now, then I'm going to put you in bed and fuck you!" "Yes! Oh god yes!" And he guided me out of the room. The door shut behind me. I slipped out the back door and went back home. I must have sat for an hour in a complete daze. The next day when I saw Cindy, I had trouble keeping from staring at her. The things she said! She was just the same as always, but I stammered several times while we talked. Right before she left, she motioned me to come close and whispered in my ear: "Thank you for yesterday." She smiled at me and left.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/6961.txt

Andrew Roller

Summer of Sin

"Well, you have been opened fore and aft, and fed upon by some of the glitterati of Paris," Rebecca laughed to me the next morning. "What shall we do for an encore?" I hugged my pillow. I lay in my bed, defensively. We were home again. Rebecca was up early, decked out in her broad-brimmed hat and a bikini. She was lithe, graceful. She tossed back her brown hair in a carefree way. She gazed down at me. She put her hands on her hips. She was intent on catching the morning rays of the sun out by her pool. "I don't want to have an encore," I said testily. I knew she wished for me to join her. But I was still sore from the night before. I put my thumb in my mouth. I sucked upon it and closed my eyes. "Very well," Rebecca said. I heard her heels click upon the floor. She turned, left. I drifted gratefully back into sleep. That afternoon we went shopping downtown. A collection had been made at the party the night before, in appreciation of our boldness. I enjoyed spending the money. "Does this make us--" I asked Rebecca, pausing over the word in French, not sure how to pronounce it. "No, darling," Rebecca assured me. "We are adventurous, but we are not that," she said. "I hoped we were not," I said, gulping. We were in a hattery. I put a broad-brimmed straw hat upon my head. It was similar to the one Rebecca owned. She adjusted it for me. She tied the ribboned chin strap under my chin. "You look adorable," Rebecca said. A young man put some boxes down in a corner of the store, near to where we were standing. We both turned and looked at him. He looked at us. I judged him to be about 19. He smiled. I found his figure extraordinary and couldn't help but smile back. He had broad shoulders, long legs. His hips were trim. There was a bulge in the front of his tight jeans. He wore a plaid shirt but it was undone down the front, displaying a muscled chest and a flat belly. He had hair growing up his belly and over his chest. "Oh, sorry," the man said. He put his fingers to his shirt and began buttoning it. "It's hot out today," he said. The proprietress of the store circled back between the hats to where we were standing. I blushed, seeing her, for I knew my eyes betrayed an admiration for her stockboy. She glanced at me, my hat, which was still her hat, for I had not bought it yet. She looked at her boy. She was Rebecca's age. I guessed the young man meant more to her than just someone who labored over her boxes. "I hope he is not bothering you?" the woman asked. "Oh, no," Rebecca replied. I remained silent. I lowered my face, letting the hat's brim cover my eyes. From under it I peered at the boy's crotch, surreptitiously. How could he be so big there? Was it just the tightness of the pants? Or had he become excited, seeing me in this hat? I felt guilty looking at his thing but I couldn't help myself. "We shall take the hat," Rebecca said. "Yes, of course," the proprietress answered. "She looks darling in it." "Thank you," I whispered from under my hat, still keeping my eyes lowered, looking at the man's crotch. "Anything else?" the proprietress asked. "No. The hat will be fine," Rebecca said. "It is how much?" She began to open her purse. "You needn't open that," the proprietress said. Her hand darted out and caught at the top of Rebecca's handbag. Gently she closed it. Her hand remained atop it, lingering, an unspoken question in the air. "Oh, but I must pay you," Rebecca said, and tried to open her purse again. The proprietress' fingers kept it shut. "There are any number of ways to pay for the necessities of life," the proprietress said. "And money is, I think, the most boring of all." "Oh!" Rebecca said, gasping a little. The proprietress forced her purse closed. She did not try to open it again. "I live on Bourbon Street," the proprietress said. "Number 25. I should be honored if she would wear the hat to tea. Three o'clock, perhaps? Tomorrow?" She glanced at the boy. "Johnnie, do you have classes tomorrow?" "Only in the morning," Johnnie said. "Good," the proprietress said. "You will report to my home after your classes. Call Maria and have her tend the store." "What do you think?" Rebecca asked. She turned to me. I lifted my eyes. I wondered if I was still blushing. My eyes met the young man's and I smiled. "I want to see all the different things in Paris," I said coyly. My eyes dropped to the man's crotch and then lifted quickly, guiltily, and looked into the face of the proprietress. She smiled. "I shall expect you both at three then," the proprietress said. "My name is Helene. And yours?" she asked, turning her face to Rebecca. "Rebecca," my aunt replied. "And this is Chloe." "Ah, a lovely name," Helene said. "Johnnie, do not put the boxes there. Put them up front, by the register," Helene said, turning to the stockboy. He nodded. He bent over and I watched his buttocks tense in his jeans. He had a broad back and it spread over the boxes. His muscled arms scooped them up. He turned, grinned at myself and Rebecca, and then sauntered through the racks of hats up to the front of the store. "Is he your boyfriend?" Rebecca asked Helene. "He is quite gorgeous." Helene nodded. "Yes, I just met him," she said. "He is from the Czech Republic. I invited him to claim my address as his own so he could attend the University. At domestic rates," she said. "Oh," Rebecca said. "That was kind of you." "Yes," Helene said. "Your friend. She is an American?" "Yes," Rebecca said. "She is staying with me just for the summer." "She looks lovely in her new hat," Helene said. "Thank you again for letting us have it," Rebecca said. "She was made for it," Helene said. "Tomorrow, then?" she asked, for the store's bell rang at the front door, announcing the entry of a customer. "Yes, of course," Rebecca said. We continued our shopping. I enjoyed my hat. It kept the sun off my face. I bought a ring with a diamond at another store. We ate a late lunch and then went home. That night we went dancing. We did not stay out late. When we came home we both went gratefully to bed. I was glad to be sleeping by myself. Yet as I drifted off I wondered about tomorrow's tea. I felt a strange excitement. I guessed I might fall asleep tomorrow evening somewhere else, perhaps at 25 Bourbon Street. He met us at the door. Rebecca and I were outfitted in short dresses. My own fitted me like a corset. It hugged my middle. It was elaborately tied in back. Bra cups covered the lower curves of my breasts, just barely containing my nipples. The jellied mounds of my breasts bounced in the cups, their tops bared. The white flesh of my mounds caught Johnnie's eyes as he opened Helene's front door. I blushed. He smiled. My shoulders were nude, as was my back, down to where the dress hugged me with corset-like firmness. I was slipped as if into a vise, bare-legged, bare-shouldered, with my dress crossing behind the small of my back and covering my flat belly. Twin spaghetti straps tied behind my neck kept the cups over my breasts from falling away. A very short skirt, flaring out from the bodice of my dress, just managed to cover my bottom. I wore no stockings. But I did wear my new ring that I'd bought, plus a pair of high-heels. Around my ankles, the same color as my black dress, were two leather ankle straps. On my head was my straw broad-brimmed hat. Rebecca was dressed like me. She wore her straw hat. The sun glared down on us, excusing our skimpy attire. It was summer. We could dress salaciously without making a scene. Johnnie, for his part, was nude, save for a pair of Speedoes.I guessed he must have been swimming or, since his hair was dry, about to. I wondered at this, for were we not to have tea? I hoped he would join us. Johnnie grinned. He invited us inside. We stepped into a parlor. It had ornate decorations. Johnnie closed the front door behind us. As soon as he had, he put his thumbs in his swimsuit. He yanked it down off his hips, exposing his cock. He stepped out of it. He hung it on a peg on the wall. "I have to wear that to answer the door," Johnnie said to us. We blushed. We gazed at his thing. It was huge. It quavered stiffly on the air, in time to his pulse. "I hope you don't mind," Johnnie said, glancing from us down to his cock. "It's not my idea, going nude. Helene insists. 'Mistress' actually, is what I call her, in her home. She takes care of me and I perform various... services," Johnnie said. He looked at us. He offered his brawny arm to Rebecca. "May I escort you to tea?" he asked. "I am no slouch in good-mannered gallantry, even if I am required to walk around without any clothes on." "Yes," Rebecca said, putting a hand to her lips. "Yes," she said again. She let Johnnie take her arm. "Come, Chloe," she whispered to me. Johnnie's cock bobbed in front of him, like some obscene fleshy log, as he led Rebecca by her arm to the back of the house. Helene was there, sitting on an enclosed porch. Big trees in her back yard kept prying eyes from seeing Johnnie's display. She sipped tea from an ivory teacup. "Hello, girls," Helene said. "My, you dress wonderfully. And such nice hats! Please sit down. I hope Johnnie didn't scare you? I prefer him naked in this summer heat. It keeps him cooler," she said. I wondered at that. Her home was air conditioned, though the porch, being screened in, let in some of the summer heat. The glass doors leading out to the porch were drawn back, letting the air conditioned interior of the home cool the porch as well. It was wasteful, but elegant, I thought. The porch would have been too hot with the glass doors closed. The day was too fine to have tea inside. Johnnie seated Rebecca at the table, then myself. He had to be careful not to let his cock jut against our bottoms. I put my hands under my seat to get my dress under me, but it was too short, and I found myself sitting in my panties directly on the chair. Its seat was made of wrought iron, painted white. "Johnnie, get some cushions for them to sit on. The seats are too hard," Helene said to our escort. "Really, I told you to do that earlier," she scolded. "Yes, mistress," Johnnie said. He went into the house and came out a moment later with two lace cushions. He put them on a side table, where flowers stood in a vase. Then he picked up one and bade me lift up my bottom so he could get it under me. I complied. Blushingly I admired his naked cock as his strong hands fitted the cushion under my ass. I sat down too quickly, sitting on his hands. I let out a small cry and lifted my seat again. He adjusted the cushion, removed his hands out from under me, and told me to sit. I did. The cushion was soft. There was lace trimming around its edges. Johnnie placed a cushion under Rebecca's fanny. She smiled. She adjusted herself on her new seat and tossed back her hair. Helene poured her tea, then me, passing the cups to us. "Mmm, it's good," Rebecca said. She sipped her tea. "Orange Pekoe." "Yes, it's perfect for summer, is it not?" Helene asked. "Johnnie, dear, why don't you have a tie on? Go put on a tie for these young ladies here." "Oh, there is no need," Rebecca said. Johnnie left, then returned a moment later. A black bow tie was tied skillfully round the base of his cock. The bow part of it faced up, toward his chest. I gasped. Rebecca, beside me, gasped. His thing was extraordinarily long and, despite the tie at its base, it still stuck out usefully a good ten inches or so, providing plenty of meat for a girl who wished to pleasure herself with it. "It is nice, decorated that way, is it not?" Helene asked us. "And there is so much of him, one does not compromise its essential functions, doing it." "No, one does not," Rebecca agreed. She gulped at her tea. "It is essential that I see the male penis displayed," Helene said. "For my business." "Your business?" Rebecca asked. "Oh, I did not tell you?" Helene asked. She drew Johnnie toward her, clasping at his cock with her fingers. Instinctively he knew, somehow, to refill her cup with tea, and when he had, using a big silver pitcher on the table, he picked up a pitcher of cream and added a dollop of it to her cup. Then she took his cock and dipped the tip of it in her cup. She stirred her tea with the big knobby head of his dick. Mostly just the pee-holed tip of his cock touched her tea, for if his whole head had been plunged in it would have spilled all the tea from her cup. "Give me a bit of your pre-cum, Johnnie," Helene said. She squeezed lightly on his veined shaft. Johnnie tensed his bottom cheeks. He uttered a slight groan. "Yes, that's it," Helene said. She lifted the tip of his hard cock out of her tea and watched as a big dollop of pre-seminal fluid oozed out of Johnnie's penis. It plopped into her cup. "Mmmm," Helene said. She brought the warm tea to her lips and sipped it. "He has such fine control," she said. She let go of his cock. "Give our guests some, too," she told Johnnie. "Oh, I--" Rebecca said. But Johnnie took her cup and, not allowing her to let go of it, drew it to his crotch. He dipped his cockhead into it. He winced slightly at the heat of the tea, then stirred her tea with his knob. "Pre-cum, madam?" Johnnie asked. "Yes, please, if it doesn't take too much out of you," Rebecca said. She regarded him with awestruck eyes. Helene stood. She walked round behind Rebecca and put her fingers through Rebecca's hair. She touched her neck. She loosened the ties there, the ties that held up the front of Rebecca's dress. "Oh!" Rebecca gasped. "He must be inspired a little," Helene said. I watched in amazement as Rebecca's bra cups were loosened. They were part of her dress, yet separate, in a sense, for loosening the cups did nothing to lighten the tightness of the corset-like bodice of the dress around Rebecca's middle. The cups fell away. Rebecca's breasts spilled out. Their tips were cherry red, and hard, in contrast to the jellied mounds themselves, which were white and soft. Johnnie gaped at Rebecca's breasts. They were quite lovely, and the sight of them caused his dick to deposit a droplet of pre-cum into Rebecca's cup. "You also," Helene said, coming round the table to me. "Oh, I do not want--!" I blurted, my tea cup hovering at my lips. I held it delicately. I wished to be ladylike. "Do not protest. It is summer," Rebecca smiled at me. She watched approvingly as Helene undid the strings at my neck, causing my bosoms to pop from my dress. They jiggled freely. I felt the warm air upon them, cooled by the outflow of air from the house, and their tips stood up. Johnnie was brought round to me and I was forced by the intervention of Helene's hand to offer my cup to him. We held it together as he drooled a droplet of pre-cum into my tea. "It will add to its flavor," Helene assured me. "And provide a taste of what is yet to come?" I asked, lifting my eyes to her. I asked innocently, though it caused Rebecca and Helene to laugh. "You are wearing panties at the moment, my dear," Helene said. "Perhaps you should take them off if you wish to enjoy Johnnie more fully." "Oh, no. I do not wish to," I said, quickly sipping my tea. "It is hot," Rebecca said. She put down her tea. She lifted her hips. She slipped her hands within the abbreviated folds of her dress and pulled down her panties. "Yes, it is," Helene agreed. Standing behind me, she did the same, pulling down her own panties and stepping out of them. They were white. Rebecca's were black. "Put them on the table so he can see them," Helene said. "It will inspire him more." The two women placed their panties on the table as if offering silky gifts to Johnnie, though he was only our servant, an immigrant from the Czech Republic. He stared at them. I saw a quiver of a smile pass across his lips. Then it faded. A slightly haunted look came to his eyes. I wondered at it. Wasn't he delighted to have three females at his disposal? Helene returned to her seat. Rebecca settled back into hers. Helene tossed back her head. She had long hair, fetchingly curled so that it formed a mane of loose curls that tumbled round her face and down over her shoulders. There was a blue ribbon tied into the back of her hair, in a bow. She wore no hat, as if hats were reserved for younger girls, like myself, to make me look sweet and childish. She had on a blue silk shirt with a high collar. It had long sleeves. Through it I could just make out the areoles of her breasts. They perked their nipples into the fabric of the shirt now as she sat sipping her tea once more, regarding our naked bosoms and Johnnie's bare cock. She wore a miniskirt round her waist. Her legs were encased in white silk stockings that gripped her thighs, not needing garters to keep them aloft. Between the tops of her stockings and the hem of her skirt, her legs were bare. She opened them, not wearing panties anymore, her muff free to rub itself on the lace-trimmed cushion upon which she was sitting. Rebecca, also without panties now, wiggled a little on the deep cushion on which she sat. "It is pleasant, is it not, going without panties?"Helene asked Rebecca. My aunt smiled. "It is very pleasant, yes," Rebecca said. "And cooler too." I looked again at Johnnie's eyes. He glanced at Helene's tummy. It was bare, flat. Her shirt was purposely too short to cover it, though her sleeves were too long for her arms, the cuffs of them covering her hands out to her knuckles. Helene smiled. "I work him hard," Helene said to Rebecca. The two women shifted their legs wider apart, letting the cool air from the house find their moistening slits between their legs. I longed, suddenly, to be without my own panties. I wanted to expose my quim. How delightful to sit bare-bottomed upon the expensive lace seat cushion! To let it moisten with my pussy's juices. I reached within my dress. I waited for Johnnie's roving eyes to move away from me. He was admiring us all, as any male would, yet I sensed still that haunted look in his eyes. He looked from Helene's tummy to my breasts, then to the breasts of my aunt. I lifted my bottom and slid my panties down my thighs. "Oh, she is doing it!" Helene said. All eyes darted to me. My privacy disappeared. I blushed, my panties ringing my knees. I contemplated, briefly, pulling my panties back up. I did not have to undress. Then the sinfulness of the moment, the feel of the pretty cushion pressed to my naked ass, got the better of me. I succumbed. With a glance at Johnnie's big cock, I drew my panties down over my knees and let them drop to my ankles. "Take her panties, please, Johnnie, and put them on the table, where we can see them," Helene said. The young man strode over to me. Despite the haunted look in his eyes, his cock bounced jauntily. He bent down. I gave a small cry as he grabbed the panties ringing my ankles. He forcibly picked up my feet. He disentangled the panties from my spiked heels. He walked over to Helene, holding them in his hand. He gave them to her. She held them up and admired them. They were small, pink. They had pretty red ribbons along their sides. "Yes," Helene said. She looked at me, then at Rebecca. She smiled. There was a vengefulness in her eyes. She tugged at the panties, hard. "Oh, do not rip them!" I cried. I heard a tearing sound. They were expensive panties, made without the gusset. There was no extra layer of lining where my pussy lips pressed against the fabric. I watched as the crotch of my panties ripped open. Then, still pulling, biting her lip slightly, Helene ripped my undies even more. I felt tears spring to my eyes. Helene dropped my ruined panties on the table. Her nipples were quite stiff now, pushing into the fabric of her shirt like twin bits of coral. I feared the stiffness of the tips might put holes in her shirt. My own nipples, I realized, blushing as I felt tears on my face, were just as hard. Did I like being denuded, my panties publicly torn apart? I looked at Johnnie. Perhaps I hoped he would somehow rescue me from this indignity. Instead I saw a flicker of a smile cross his lips again. Then he licked them. Pre-cum drooled from the tip of his cock and fell on the floor of the screened-in porch. Rebecca, surprised by Helene's violence toward my panties, now let herself relax once more and smiled at me. "You will not need them, dear," Rebecca said. "But when we go home?" I asked. Rebecca looked into her teacup and said nothing. After a moment, she sipped her tea. "It is delicious," she said to Helene. Our hostess reached across the table to where Rebecca's panties lay. She plucked them from the table with her fingers. They had long nails. Rebecca gulped. Her own panties were without a gusset and Helene stressed them now, pulling at them, until the crotch of them ripped wide apart. Then Helene dropped them on the table and picked up her own panties. Despite the expensiveness of the fabric, she pulled at them until they tore open at the crotch. Then she pulled on them some more, until one of the frilled sides gave way completely, leaving her panties a stringy, useless wreck. She dropped them back on the table. "There," Helene said. "Now we are all bereft, and can enjoy the freedom of our pussies. Is it not nice, to spread one's legs and let the air intrude between them?" She looked at Rebecca. She put her hand between her legs and diddled her cunny with a pointed finger. Rebecca watched, wide-eyed, as Helene masturbated. So did I. The table hid the indecency of the act but there was no doubt at all where Helene had put her hand, for almost at once she gave a convulsive shudder. Then she sighed. "Ooooh," she said. "That feels so good. It is summer and a girl should be able to sit outdoors, bare-bottomed, and give herself a bit of pleasure if she wishes, don't you think?" Helene asked. "Yes," Rebecca agreed. She was, I think, trying to be polite, agreeing with our hostess, but Helene took her at her word. "Then do it yourself, my dear," Helene said. "There's no reason to be shy. No one can see. And we needn't feel like lesbians, for we have a man with us, to admire our suffering." Rebecca glanced at Johnnie. I watched as Rebecca put down her teacup on the table. Then her hand left the table. It slipped, I knew without seeing, down between her legs. Rebecca jerked, her breath catching, as her finger touched her aroused slit. "Oh, yes!" Rebecca said. "It is pleasant, yet it makes you wish for even more, does it not?" Helene asked Rebecca. "Yes," Rebecca agreed. "That is why I call it suffering," Helene said. "It is sweet to suffer this way, playing in one's slit, especially with a man so near." "Yes," Rebecca sighed. I gazed at them both, wide-eyed. I held my teacup aloft, too surprised to drink from it, or to put it back down on the table. Helene looked at me. "You too," she said. "Oh, no!" I answered. For I knew the moment I started, I would be unable to stop. I would shiver with ever-increasing need until I begged to be taken. "Yes," Helene said. Her eyes looked at me with a hardness in them. I shuddered. I felt myself wanting, between my legs. I dropped my hand to the cushion, between my thighs, and flicked a finger toward my nest. "Touch yourself," Helene ordered. "Oh, please don't make me!" I cried. Yet Helene sat across the table from me, unable to reach over to where I was sitting. Her eyes alone commanded. "Please don't make me," I said again. "Chloe, be a good girl," Rebecca told me. "By being bad?" I asked. Rebecca smiled. "Yes, by being bad, dear," she said. Then she emitted an involuntary sigh as her own doings caused her to suffer the pangs of desire. I looked at Johnnie. First at his penis, then up at his eyes. Now I knew why they looked haunted. He was never free from Helene's sexual plottings. She worked his cock like this every day, teasing him, making him use his tool again and again to serve her pleasure. And it was perverse, the way she used him, making him be naked, using his dick to stir her tea. I had no doubt there were many other tasks she had him perform, every day. And always, if it could possibly be done that way, she made him perform his jobs with his penis. This in addition to the normal round of fucking I knew she must demand from him every night. He was a walking dong, in her house. Always he had to keep himself erect and vulnerable. The rest of his body, though it was gorgeous, mattered little in comparison to his cock. Helene smiled. "Johnnie, have you watered the plants?" she asked. "No, mistress," Johnnie answered. "Not yet." "Please do so," Helene said. "Yes, mistress," Johnnie replied. There were plants on the porch and Johnnie turned and walked to the nearest one. It was a rose bush. He put his hands on his hips. He thrust his cock carelessly into the mass of thorned branches that made up the bush. I watched, my breath catching, fearing he might pierce himself on a thorn. But he did not, thankfully, and a moment later, as I watched his buttcheeks tighten, I heard a hissing sound. Johnnie urinated on the bush. We all watched. Helene licked her lips. Involuntarily my finger found my dell and massaged it. I heard myself gasp. "That's enough, Johnnie," Helene called out. I heard the flow of urine stop, abruptly. Johnnie's asscheeks squeezed hard. He flexed his torso. I guessed he was flinging spare drops of urine into the plant, so they would not fall on the floor and be wasted. Then he turned. His big penis, still tied with the bow, presented itself to us again. "Do the others," Helene told Johnnie. "Yes, mistress," Johnnie agreed. He walked over to a poinsettia and began urinating anew, into the pointy leaves. After a bit he stopped the flow of his urine again, squeezing his buttcheeks tightly. Then he walked over to a spray of narcissus flowers, growing in a clay pot. He aimed his cock at them and let his urine on them. Finally he turned and walked over to a cluster of tulip blossoms. He filled the flowered cups with his urine, overspilling them, making them bend under their newfound load and droop toward the earth. "I have no more... in my bladder," Johnnie said to Helene, turning toward us again. I gazed at his balls, bulging with virile firmness between his legs. Would she make him jerk himself off on the remaining plants? I shivered. I felt my finger intruding in my dell but had not the will to stop it. I dithered it over my clitoris and let out a moan. "Come here, Johnnie," Helene commanded our servant. He walked over to her, his cock a big sausage of flesh that bobbed freely with his every step. Droplets of urine flew off the tip, the last errant remnants of his watering.Helene clutched at the head of his cock and inspected it. She put her teacup to it and gently submerged the tip in the hot tea. Johnnie tensed at the touch of the warm fluid to his cock. Helene bathed the end of Johnnie's cock in her cup of tea to cleanse it of pee. When she lifted the end of Johnnie's cock out of her cup, she waited until all the tea had dripped off it. Then she put the big knobby head to her lips and sucked briefly upon it. Johnnie groaned. "I shall expect you to service our guests as eagerly and thoroughly as you serve me, Johnnie," Helene said to the man, not looking up at his face, however, but keeping her eyes on his cock, addressing his pee hole. "Yes, mistress," Johnnie said. "You must make every effort to satisfy them," Helene told the man, still looking at his cock as she spoke. "Yes, mistress," Johnnie said. The haunted look returned to his eyes, though he smiled, slightly. Helene looked at me. I gazed at her, my finger between my legs under the table, diddling my slit. I gave a sigh as my finger, paying attention to my nubbed clit, made it hunger for even greater attention. "Stand up," Helene said. I drew my shoulders together. I crouched a little, recalcitrant, for I did not want to stop playing with myself, and did not want to be seen doing it, either. "Stand up," Helene told me again. With a great sigh, I leaped to my feet. I plucked my hand from my dell, only to put it back again, so great had my need suddenly become. With my pussy above the level of the table, I freely fingered myself, uncaring that they all could see what I was doing to myself. At the same time, I told myself that I was hiding my cunt from their view, for my hand was over it, though one of my fingers was inquiring up within it. "Turn around," Helene told me. I gave a sigh of relief. Of course! If I turned around, they would see only my too-short miniskirt, just covering my bottom, and not see the front anymore, where my hand, intruding in my dell, caused my skirt to rise and display my furred mount. I turned on my spiked heels. As I offered them a view of my bottom, I frigged myself more freely. I didn't have to worry about hiding my nakedness now. I sighed as my questing finger delved deep in my lips. Helene's next words shocked me. "Lift her skirt in back," she told Johnnie. "I want to see her ass." The man strode over to me. I glanced over my shoulder at him, still too hungry for something up my twat to spare it the touch of my finger. As I diddled myself, he gallantly lifted the back of my skirt, baring my bottom. Helene, sitting across the table, nodded. "It is a sweet tush," she said approvingly. "It has still the pertness of a child's bottom, the cheeks sticking out, while yet having the bell-shaped fullness of a woman." Helene looked at Rebecca. "It is especially lovely that, even with the filling out of her hips, her ass is still small. I have a taste for spanking small bottoms. May I do hers? I promise I would soothe it afterward." "She would look quite salacious wiggling it all about under the lash," Rebecca agreed. Then she bit her lip and gasped as her finger, playing in her slit, brought her a new tremor of pleasure. "Yes, it would be delightful," Helene said. She too gasped, thinking of paddling me as she played in her dell. As for myself, despite the wickedness of the proposal, I couldn't stop frigging myself! "What... implements would you use?" Rebecca gasped to Helene. "A good sturdy paddle," Helene answered. "She would have to be tied down, of course. I wouldn't want her running around the house. She might break something." "Of course," Rebecca said. "You both arrived wearing ankle straps," Helene said. "They're quite sexy looking. Did you intend just to tease, or...?" "Perhaps not just to tease," Rebecca replied with a fevered sigh. "Good. I had hoped not," Helene said. "If the moment is right, perhaps you both will get to use them for their intended purpose," Helene said to Rebecca. "Not just for decoration, but for their utility in rendering one immobile." "Yes," Rebecca gasped. She was quite excited by the playing of her finger in her cunt by now, as was I. We no longer had the good sense to say no to such silly ideas. I felt the air upon my bare bottom and shivered. "Tear off her dress," Helene told Johnnie. "No!" I cried. But before I could think how to save myself, Johnnie, who was very strong, ripped the skirt of my dress off the corset-like bodice. A moment later I wore only the middle part of my dress, the cups of it undone from my breasts, the back torn away to permanently reveal my bottom.

Chapter Four

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/6918.txt

Stephanie

It's Hard to be a Man

"And I thought I couldn't be surprised anymore," Amanda said, shell-shocked. She turned to Abigail, who was negotiating her car back towards her shop. "Are you sure of this?" "Yes!" Abigail replied for the third time. "I wouldn't have pulled you out from your office like that if I wasn't certain." "I just can't believe it. Patrick and Hank together...having sex. And he doesn't want to break the curse?" "It's...worse than that. He wants to stay female and marry Hank." "MARRY HANK!?!" Amanda almost screamed. "Ow! Mind my eardrums!" "Sorry." Amanda tried to find something coherent to say. "Neither Hank nor Patrick are the marrying type. Why did Patrick change his mind so fast?" "He's been trying to control his new body all week. Like someone driving a new car they can't quite handle yet. Unfortunately, he crashed before he could get enough experience, and now he's wandering around in shock." "He's not the only one." Amanda tried to digest all she had been told. "So you think this is his reaction to making love as a woman? But why settle on Hank of all people? He's almost as bad as Patrick is, or was." "Perhaps he's acting the way he believes the ideal woman should?" Abigail suggested. "Serves him right if he is." Amanda rubbed her forehead. Now she was getting a migraine. "So what are we going to do?" "Simple," Abigail replied, "we carry on with the ritual as planned. Patrick doesn't have to do much more than simply be there for it to work." "Which in his current state is the absolutely last place in the world he'll want to be," Amanda pointed out. "How do we get him there and keep him there?" "That's...something we're going to have to work on." Abigail replied uncertainly. Susan knocked on the door of the bathroom cubicle. "Ian," she called, "are you okay?" "W-what are you doing in the men's room?" came a small voice from inside. "I came to check if you were alright. You've been in there for twenty minutes!" "I'm...ah...fine. You go on ahead and I'll catch you up soon." "Okay, Ian." Susan replied. What the hell was up with him? she thought. "Me and Becky will see you back at the office. Are you sure everything is okay?" "Yep, everything is fine!" Ian replied, trying to sound upbeat, but only managing to sound terrified. He relaxed slightly as he heard Susan walk from the room. At least he wouldn't have to go out there and face Patrick again. How had his boss done the impossible and turned himself into a woman? Did Hank know he was sleeping not with Patrick's cousin, but with Patrick himself? Probably not, Hank and Patrick were friends, but not that sort of friends. Ian's mind drifted back to the previous Monday night when he had seen Patrick do the impossible. His boss had been down an alley in a small occult bookshop when he had changed sex. Ian was certain that was not a coincidence. Maybe it was run by a witch and she had done it to him. The idea seemed stupid, but no more absurd than what he had seen with his own eyes. He decided the coast was clear and cautiously opened the stall door. The men's room was deserted. He quickly moved over to the washroom door and looked into the restaurant. By opening the door a crack he could see where he, Susan and 'Becky' had been sitting. Someone else was sitting there now. Ian slipped back into the restaurant and headed for the exit, checking all around himself for his boss. Back on the street he tried to decide where to go. He couldn't head back to the office, because Patrick would be there. Perhaps he should check out that shop. Find out what happened to Patrick, and maybe find a way to reverse what had been done to him. It was a short walk to the shop. Looking in through the window at the piles of occult and New Age books Ian was beginning to question his judgement. What if whatever had been done to Patrick was done to him? He opened the door and jumped three feet in the air when it triggered a little bell. He stood dead still as he waited to see if anyone would answer it. After several heartbeats he convinced himself that no-one was coming and edged into the shop. He had to find something to help Patrick. Carefully he looked around the small bookshop. It was impossible to tell if any of the books was of any use. He didn't know which ones carried the information he needed. He looked behind the counter. Perhaps the witch kept her important stuff there. "Back away from the cash register," came a voice. A female voice. Ian turned in horror to see a woman standing halfway up a narrow flight of stairs. She had red hair and was dressed like a cross between a gypsy fortune teller and a hippy. "Don't turn me into a woman!" he screamed and dived behind the counter. Abigail frowned. That was not the normal reaction of a thief. "What did you say?" "I recognize that voice," said Amanda behind her. "It's Ian, isn't it? You work with Patrick." Ian carefully poked his head above the counter. He recognized the second woman as well. "You're Patrick's latest girlfriend." "Latest ex-girlfriend," she corrected him. Amanda moved towards him and he ducked down. "Look it's alright. We're not going to do anything to you. We're trying to cure Patrick before he gets into any more trouble." Ian's head popped up again, "Really?" "Really. Come on upstairs and we'll explain." Ian decided he couldn't risk running in case the red-haired woman really was a witch. Perhaps if he played it cool he'd be okay. Reluctantly he followed them upstairs. Patrick was in seventh heaven as he walked around the shop. He had spent the last three quarters of an hour getting a makeover and trying out various cosmetics. He had sat around the office for a while after he and Susan had got back from the restaurant. Hank was really too busy to pay much attention to him, but Patrick wasn't annoyed. At least he was close to the man he loved. After an hour, Hank had suggested Patrick should do a little shopping or something. It'd be much better than hanging around a boring office waiting for him to finish work. Hank gave Patrick a hundred dollars as spending money and told him to get something nice. Patrick didn't need the money at all, but as far as Hank knew he was an unemployed girl come to the city to look for a job. He made a show of trying to refuse the money before accepting it. He made Hank promise to come around to his apartment as soon as he finished work. Hank only agreed when he was convinced that 'Becky' would be there alone. Patrick had no problem about taking Hank's money. After all, a husband was supposed to support his wife. Wife. He rolled the word around his mind as he collected his purchases and set off for the clothing section of the store. He was going to be Hank's wife! He spent nearly all of Hank's money on a bottle of perfume with a French name. He still had a few hours to kill before Hank finished work. What better way to spend that time, he thought, than in shopping for clothes.A woman couldn't have too many clothes, and the ones they had here were so sexy it made his body tingle. Being a woman was such fun! Quite a while later, Patrick had trouble holding on to all of his purchases as he made his way to his car. He tripped and almost went flying. Wearing high heels took a lot of effort, and he wasn't nearly good enough in them yet. He loaded his new clothes and cosmetics into the back of his car and gratefully settled into the driving seat. His legs ached due to his shoes. How did women put up with those things? Well, he'd just have to work at it until he got it right. The idea of not wearing high-heeled shoes simply did not occur to him. He hadn't mastered the art of driving in them yet either, so he removed them before he headed back to his apartment. It was nearly 4:00 PM before he finally made it home. It was still a couple of hours before Hank would finish work. Still, he could use that time to get ready. Patrick could tell something was wrong the second he opened the door of his apartment. He stood still for a moment, straining to hear any noise that might be coming from his apartment. "Who's there?" he called. Amanda stepped into the entrance hall and headed over to him. "I let myself in." Patrick gave a relieved smile. "I thought I was being robbed for a moment." He dropped his purchases off in his bedroom and then headed back to the main room. "We need to talk," his ex-girlfriend said. "No, we don't." Patrick replied. "I suppose Abigail told you of what I was planning?" Amanda nodded, "And I think I was more shocked than her. The Patrick I knew would never do this, would be horrified even to contemplate it." "Maybe," Patrick said, "but I'm not Patrick anymore. I'm Rebecca! Hank's girlfriend. Before too long I'll be his wife!" "Patrick, that is not you talking! You've had an extreme shock and this is your mind trying to compensate. You need help." "I'm not mad!" Patrick replied hotly. "I know exactly what I'm doing!" "I'm not saying you're mad," Amanda replied, already in danger of losing her temper. "You'll thank us for this later." Patrick stopped and looked at her suspiciously. "Us?" He saw a movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to see Abigail emerge from the kitchen. "I'm not happy about doing this either," she said, "but there is no other way. Ian, secure the door." Yet another figure emerged from the kitchen and started edging around the three women. Now Patrick was angry. "What right did you have to tell Ian?!" "He worked it out for himself," Abigail replied. "Go on Ian." Ian gave Patrick a wide berth and then headed down to the front door. Patrick folded his arms under his breasts and glared at the two other women. "So what now?" "Now we keep you here until past midnight." Abigail replied. "Then we perform the ritual and break the curse." Patrick took a step back. "No! You can't do this! What right do you have to break up this wonderful thing me and Hank have?!" He stabbed a finger at Amanda. "You're just jealous. You're only doing this because I jilted you for Hank!" "Dear God," Amanda exclaimed. "He's even more egotistical than when he was a man. Let's get him into the bedroom." Amanda and Abigail moved forward as one and grabbed an arm each. Together they started to pull Patrick towards his bedroom. He wasn't going quietly and was fighting them every step of the way. "Come on Ian!" Amanda called, "Give us a hand." Ian had been standing dumbly watching the fight unfold. He was still trying to digest the story he had been told. He was glad at least that Patrick had confirmed the story was true in the way he had acted towards Abigail and Amanda. He moved towards Patrick and tried to work out where he could hold him and cause the least embarrassment to either of them. It was really disturbing him how much Patrick's new form was attractive to him. His boss really did make a very sexy woman. Ian waited until he was sure he wouldn't get kicked and then grabbed Patrick's legs. Ian's boss struggled and cursed, but the three working together could just hold him. "What do we do with him?" Ian asked as he held on to Patrick's shapely legs desperately. His head was pressed against Patrick's stomach, and he tried to ignore how close he was to his boss's feminine crotch. "Into his bedroom," Amanda replied. They manhandled Patrick into his own bedroom. While Amanda and Ian held him down on the bed, Abigail gathered a few of the belts from the large pile of female clothes he had bought. The belts made good straps, and they soon had his hands and feet tied around the legs of the bed. Patrick was stuck spread-eagled and was unable to move. He glared up at his captors, "When I get out of this I'm going to fucking kill every last one of you!" "Well," remarked Amanda, "at least some of the old Patrick is still in there. You keep quiet or we'll gag you." "I really am sorry about all this, Patrick." Abigail told him. "I wish it hadn't come to this, but you will thank us for this later." Patrick just glared angrily at her. She looked away, "Yes, well. Amanda, you and I need to start preparing for the ritual. You need to be word perfect when we do it for real." She turned to Ian, "You stay here and keep an eye on Patrick." "Me?" Ian said worriedly. "There's no-one else who can. Amanda and I are going to be busy. You'll be okay." The two women headed back to the main room to prepare for the ritual. Ian avoided Patrick's gaze and sat down in a chair. Ian was beginning to regret ever getting involved over the mystery of Patrick's transformation. It was far too late to back out now. Anyway, overbearing boss that Patrick was, Ian couldn't just walk away and leave him as a lovesick bimbo. He looked up to see Patrick struggling on the bed. "Ian?" his transformed boss said. "If you don't release me, NOW, you're fired. Do you understand that? Fired!" "Patrick, please relax. It'll be over soon." Ian said, trying to be reassuring. He knew that if Patrick's mind didn't return to normal after the curse was lifted, he'd lose his job. This was just getting worse and worse. Patrick looked at him, "But I don't want it to be over. I'm a sexy girl. Do you have any idea how this body feels. Not just on the outside, but on the inside. Nothing else comes close." Ian looked down at Patrick stretched out on the bed. It was a fantastic body, he had to admit. In any other situation, he'd be trying to get to know the girl a lot better. He watched, spellbound, as Patrick continued to struggle against his bonds. His eyes drank in Patrick's shapely body, from the breasts that rolled and moved under the revealing dress, down to the long, shapely legs struggling to break free. The movements grew less frantic and more sensuous, almost as if Patrick was enjoying it. Ian looked up to see Patrick smiling broadly at him. With great relish, Patrick breathed the words "take me." Ian jumped as if he had been stung and retreated over to the window. His face reddened with embarrassment as he heard Patrick laugh softly. He was almost painfully aware of the erection in his pants. He wanted that woman so badly, but 'she' was Patrick, his boss! "I wouldn't worry about it, Ian." Patrick said with an amused tone in his voice. "It's perfectly natural for a body like mine to get you all hot and hard." "It's not natural at all!" Ian retorted. "Perhaps, but I can tell how much you want me. It's written all over your face." "Shut up!" Ian turned to look out of the window. He checked his watch. It was still more than seven hours to midnight, and he was mentally exhausted already. Patrick said nothing more. After several minutes, Ian had enough courage to turn around and face Patrick again. He was surprised to see that Patrick had fallen asleep. How could he fall asleep under conditions like that? Probably didn't get much rest the previous night, when he was with Hank, Ian thought. Ian shook his head and sighed. He still couldn't believe it. Hank obviously couldn't tell the difference. Ian wondered if he could. If he had been making love to a magically transformed man, would he have been able to tell if, behind the bountiful breasts and soft skin, lived the soul of a man? No wonder Patrick had gone nuts. Ian doubted he would deal with it better if he woke with feminine lips between his legs instead of his manhood. Or if his chest suddenly held two sensuous globes. His erection was uncomfortably tight in his pants, and his mouth was dry. He stared at Patrick for several long minutes. Finally, he came to a decision and he moved his chair closer to the bed. Being very careful not to wake Patrick, Ian leaned over and breathed in the scent of the sleeping woman. Ian shivered uncontrollably. Even the smell cried out with sex appeal. He looked up at the door to check no-one was there. Then he carefully held his hand barely above one of Patrick's breasts. He was so close to it that he imagined he could feel Patrick's body heat. He looked up at Patrick's face, and almost died of fright when he saw his boss's eyes were open. Patrick smiled and whispered "It's alright. Go ahead." Ian wavered for a moment before giving in to his desires. Slowly, he brought his hand down to cup Patrick's soft flesh. Patrick groaned sensuously as Ian caressed him. Ian could feel Patrick's aroused nipple pushing into his palm. His confidence grew, and he started to massage Patrick's breast. At that moment he wanted to have Patrick more than any other woman he had ever been with. His boss might once have been a man, but now he was the embodiment of feminine sensuality. He slipped his hand inside Patrick's dress to get better access. Patrick hadn't bothered with a bra that morning, preferring to let his breasts swing free. Patrick's skin was so smooth and unblemished it only made Ian want him more. "Ohh, that feels so good," Patrick said dreamily.Ian looked up at Patrick's face. There was no hint of masculinity in that face. Nothing that could point to Patrick's formerly male status. Slowly, he leaned over, and their lips met. Ian felt as if he had gotten an electric shock from Patrick, and the kiss rapidly grew more passionate. Patrick's lips opened, inviting Ian's tongue into his mouth. By now, Ian was leaning over Patrick, and his erection was pressing into the transformed man under him. Finally, they broke for air. Patrick looked at the aroused man on top of him; he was keenly aware of how far Ian had fallen under his spell. "Could you undo my right hand, my love?" he asked. "I shouldn't," Ian said, but without any force. "I won't be going anywhere while you're with me, will I?" Ian caught the double meaning and swallowed. "I suppose it can't hurt." He reached up and quickly undid the belt holding Patrick's right hand. Patrick's free hand ran softly down the side of Ian's face, and then headed downwards. It eagerly grabbed at the hard lump in Ian's jeans. Ian needed no further encouragement and undid his own belt. He was shaking now and beyond much rational thought. This beautiful creature, that used to be a man, but was now a woman, wanted him! Patrick was rougher now, more urgent, pulling Ian's jeans open and down. His shorts quickly followed. Patrick's eyes widened with lust as he saw Ian's penis, erect in all its glory. "Closer, closer," he urged. Ian kneeled over Patrick the best he could with his jeans and pants round his ankles and edged forward. Patrick pulled him closer still. It was all Ian could do to stop himself from reaching orgasm when Patrick's hot, velvet-soft mouth closed on his hot and hard length. Patrick's hand gripped Ian's ass, and his nails dug in, but the young man was past caring. The hand controlled the speed of thrusting and only removed itself when Ian had settled into the rhythm Patrick wanted. Ian had to lean forwards to allow his penis easy access to Patrick's eager mouth. He was gripping on to the backboard of the bed and trying to retain enough self-control to avoid crying out. The fact that there were two women in the next room who must not find out what he was doing only heightened his excitement. He felt himself building to the inevitable explosion, and he did his best to keep it at bay for as long as possible. Patrick's tongue flicked over the head of his penis, and he lost the battle against his orgasm. He gave a strangled, quiet cry and pumped his seed into Patrick's mouth. Then, just as he was recovering, he was suddenly thrown backwards and off the bed, slamming his head into a wardrobe as he hit the floor. He gave a cry of pain and confusion. He put his hand to his throbbing head and tried to work out what had happened. Patrick was sitting upright on the bed, working feverishly at the two belts restraining his legs. He must have freed his other hand when he was sucking me off, Ian realized. "Sorry," Patrick told him as he worked, "you're very cute, and I really didn't want to do that." He tried to struggle to his feet, but Patrick was free. Ian could only watch as Patrick wiped some cum from the side of his mouth, and then grabbed his handbag. "Ian?" came Abigail's voice from the hallway. "What's going on?" Patrick wasted no time leaping from the room and running to the front door. From the confused yelling and cursing, it was obvious to Ian that Patrick had made a clean getaway. Some moments later, Amanda prowled into the bedroom looking very angry. "What the hell hap--?" she started before she saw Ian collapsed on the floor. Ian finally managed to struggle to his feet. It was only then that he remembered his jeans were around his ankles. He quickly tried to pull them up as Amanda, now joined by Abigail, could only stare on in disbelief. "You sick bastard!" Amanda exclaimed. "What the hell were you thinking? That was Patrick!" Ian tried to think of something to say and failed. Amanda hadn't finished yet. "I just can't believe this! Did you like doing it with a man? Perhaps you should be a woman like him. In fact, I wish mmfff!" Abigail held her hand tightly over Amanda's mouth. "Let's not risk creating another problem, okay?" Amanda nodded slowly, and Abigail took her hand away. She thought about continuing her tirade against Ian's stupidity, but decided to storm out instead. "Men! Absolutely nothing but trouble!" she said angrily as she left. Abigail hurried after her. Ian turned and looked down at the bed and tried to sort out his emotions. He had known all the time that it was Patrick, but it hadn't seemed to bother him. Patrick was laughing as he drove away. That had been a very close call, but nothing would stop him being the woman he undoubtedly was. He felt bad about what had happened with Ian for two reasons. The first was that he had cheated on Hank, his future husband. The second reason was that Ian was a really cute guy. Patrick thought that if it wasn't for Hank, he could really go for him. As soon as he felt he was far enough away from home to be safe, he stopped and pulled out his mobile phone. "Hank? It's me, Becky. Slight change of plans. I'll meet you at your place."

Part Nine

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/9607.txt

David Lawrence

Reckless

"I thought I was coming over to help you with the math exam study," said David, who was always called Davy by everyone at school. Even the girls who usually ignored the tall, thin math wizard with the horn-rimmed glasses called him that when they had to speak to him for some reason. "You are, Davy. And I do need the help. But I know a better place to study than my house. Some friends have asked me to house-sit this weekend, and I have a key. Let's go over there and study, okay?" "All right. I guess it doesn't matter where we do it." "You're right," replied Kristy with a wink, patting the empty passenger seat in her 1986 Mustang, which had only a few rents and tears in it. Davy climbed in beside her, letting his eyes linger only for a moment on the red hair and blue eyes, the white t-shirt with a pink trim and a funny face on the front, the tight cutoff jeans that flowed around her fertile and sexy hips, and the tanned, perfect legs of a girl the sight of whom could melt the frozen loins of an octogenarian scoutmaster. Sure, Davy the math wiz was a teenaged human being, and thus he'd made love to the girl sitting beside him in every conceivable nasty, dirty way in his fantasies; but now in the fading light of the late May afternoon, he knew she was off-limits to him. He wished it wasn't so, but no girl really looked twice at him, and thus knowing he wasn't sexy, to risk anything other than a distant relationship was to court the kind of humiliation and rejection he would do just about anything to avoid. The weather was getting hot, and Kristy's air conditioner didn't work, so as they drove with the windows open, her hair blew out wildly behind her, but she seemed unconcerned. The last exam of the year was upon her, and she wanted desperately to do well on it. Nothing troubled her as much as the image she had of being an airheaded bimbo. She was far from stupid, but in her studies, she was too frequently inattentive. There was just so much life to live, she couldn't fit it all in. But it seemed to her that Davy could help her, and, no doubt, she could help him. "Tell me, Dave," she said loudly over the wind to the silent boy sitting next to her staring straight ahead down the road, "you're a senior, aren't you?" "Sure," he replied, startled and somewhat pleased that she had called him Dave rather than Davy. "Do you mind if I ask you a personal question, then?" "No, go ahead," What else could he say, he thought. "Have you ever been laid?" Her tone was matter-of-fact, as if she'd asked if he'd ever had strawberry ice cream. "What?" "You know what I mean, don't ya?" she asked, turning her radiant face towards him, her long red hair flowing back behind her. "I mean fucking. Like, putting your dick inside a girl and moving it back and forth till you cum. Got the picture?" she smiled broadly. This conversation was entirely outside David A. Graham's experience. He was a nice boy who lived at home with his parents and had done everything he could to please them. He thought his horniness was his own dirty little secret. He took a lot of precautions to be sure nobody knew he masturbated. He could see the look in this mother's eyes now: I'm so *ashamed* of you David, so very *ashamed*. And you should be too. This is just so *awful* and so *disgusting*. "Well, not really," he replied nervously, forgetting to raise his voice so it could be heard over the wind. He looked a bit pained, and his face was turning beet red. "Well, hey, Dave, it doesn't hurt, you know. It's a natural thing. Everybody does it. And you're over eighteen, sweetie, you're not a little kid anymore." "So I've been told," he replied, but stared straight ahead. Still, inwardly he smiled a little. He snuck another look at her, sitting there driving with that sexy, incredible body. Then a flash of anger: why was she teasing him this way? He hated it when the girls did that. He was still staring straight ahead when the Mustang swung into Pam's driveway. But he unfroze in time to accompany Kristy to the door. The house was indeed empty, and a little to David's surprise, Kristy went straight to the kitchen table and spread out the books. And to her surprise, David turned out to be a great teacher. He explained things clearly and patiently that she had never understood. There was a meeting of the minds, and a shared purpose, and soon he forgot what he thought was the teasing in the car. He almost, but not quite, forgot the inspiring legs and gorgeous ass that sat so close to him by the quiet kitchen table, as the time passed silently and the night spread its wings over the day. It seemed like minutes, but an hour passed. As Dave (she couldn't even think of him as Davy anymore) got up to get them a soda, she thought how surprising it was that a real person lay frozen beneath the shy exterior, a person who emerged lit up with enthusiasm as he saw she was paying attention to him, and learning from him. Just then, the doorbell rang. "I know who that is," exclaimed Kristy, getting up and going through the little hallway from the kitchen to the door. Dave could hear the exchange of words. "Hi Kristen! Hi Jeff!" Kristy said in her rather low voice. "Hi! Ok if we come in?" replied a female voice. "I invited you didn't I?" Kristy said back. All three came back to the kitchen. Dave knew Kristen, she was in his senior class but not a close friend. Blond and slim and athletic, he knew she was a sports buff, but wasn't really sure what sport she was into. Jeff was obviously her boyfriend, taller and older, probably a college kid. Dave was immediately uncomfortable as Kristy made introductions all around. He wondered if they were there to study too. Kristen gave him a sweet smile, and he relaxed a little. Nope, no study, for after a little small talk, Kristen and Jeff got a quick house tour from Kristy, who showed them every room, including Pam's waterbed in the bedroom. Afterward, Kristen and her boyfriend settled on the couch with some beer they'd bought and turned on the TV. Kristy returned to the kitchen table, saying over her shoulder as she left them alone, "Just a little more for us to study, so be good you two!" Fifteen minutes of studious concentration later, a strange sound rose slightly over the noise of the TV. Kristy and Dave immediately looked up. It was a quiet but unmistakable feminine moan. "I bet they're doing something naughty," Kristy whispered, but Dave didn't say anything and returned to his explanations. But shortly, the moan came again, a little louder. Dave and Kristy looked at one another, then she quietly got up from the chair and padded on bare feet to the hall where the living room was visible. Dave just sat there and watched her go. Twenty seconds later, she reappeared, and holding out a hand, beckoned Dave to join her. He knew he should just sit there, but something made him get up and follow the sexy redhead in spite of himself. He even tried consciously to be quiet. At the wide doorway where the hall opened into the living room, the two young and curious heads peered discreetly around the doorjamb. What they saw was a side view of the comfortable wide stuffed couch facing the TV. In one corner, Jeff lay back against the armrest, one foot on the floor and the other on the couch. Straddling the couch-borne leg, Kristen had both her tanned and athletic legs spread low on the couch, and her arms around Jeff's neck. The TV was ignored, as she locked her lips in a passionate kiss with her boyfriend's. The movement of their tongues inside their cheeks was clearly visible, and the eyes of the young lovers were closed as they enjoyed the ecstasy of the urgent wet kisses. What was most shocking to David, her thin pink summer blouse was unbuttoned and the bra cast aside on the floor, and one of Jeff's hands was fondling and rubbing her naked breasts even as they kissed. David stood rooted to the spot. He'd never even dreamed of seeing anything like this in his life. He knew he should leave but he didn't move. Somehow, the fact that Kristy didn't look away either, but seemed fascinated, kept him there. A powerful nervous tension did battle in his body with a struggling green shoot of arousal, making itself felt in spite of his mental denial. Eventually, the kiss broke.The lovely girl leaned back slightly as her boyfriend reached up with both arms and, taking her breasts in his wide palms, began to rub both her peaked nipples back and forth with his thumbs. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhyeeeessss," she moaned again, "You know what that does to me, baby." "What does it do to you, golden girl?" "It makes me so hot and tingly and wet for you, baby. Oh, God, you drive me wild." "Yeah, your tits are so goddamn sexy, and I love these hard little nipples. Love to tweak them," he said with an aroused fervor to his voice as he twirled them between his thumb and forefinger. She trembled visibly and began to rub her crotch on his leg in an unmistakable invitation to lustier activities. It was too much. David felt himself getting hard, the blood flowing deliciously into his cock, and drew back and softly walked the few steps back to the kitchen. In a few moments, Kristy followed. "What's wrong, guy?" she asked him in a whisper. "That's so private, we shouldn't be looking." "I'll tell you a secret if you promise not to repeat it anywhere," she whispered. He leaned down a little as she stood close to him, her sexy body so near it seemed to physically hurt him in some way. "Okay," he said. "She loves it," Kristy whispered into his ear. Her lips were so close, her warm breath sent chills down his spine. "We're friends, and I've double-dated with her before. She likes being watched. She even likes it when she knows someone is watching. Can you handle that?" "I guess so," he replied, in somewhat of a state of moral confusion at this unexpected new information. "But," he suddenly thought, and said aloud, "What about him?" "Let me tell ya, sweetie, once his dick gets hard, he really doesn't care anymore either." David just looked at her. She winked and flashed a wicked smile at him. "Now c'mon back with me. Don't be a chicken. You've been teaching me, and now it's my turn." Knowing it was wrong, he couldn't seem to stop himself. He removed his shoes at her whispered suggestion, and they crept back to their watching post, the tops of their heads up to their eyes peering around the edge of the doorway. Things had progressed dramatically. The attractive blonde Kristen was now sitting slouched down on the couch, her hips on the edge, as the taller Jeff was on his knees in front of her. She put her feet, now bare, on the floor and raised up just as Kristy and David resumed their watching, and Jeff boldly just slipped her shorts off, leaving her in only a pair of sheer panties. Her blouse was open, revealing her enchanting breasts with the tight hard nipples, so sexy and healthy they pointed in different directions. Her eyes were closed as she assisted her boyfriend in removing the barriers to their pleasure. He paused then, the cutoffs discarded, as if in wonder. "God, you're so wet it's incredible," he said, staring into the damp valley between her smooth legs. "Yes, lover, and what are you going to do about it?" He reached forward and with his fingers began to trace the outline of her puffy and visibly aroused lips through the sheer, silk panty. The look of pleasure on her face, the way her head leaned back and her eyes closed, more than the action between her legs, made David's cock harden to a full erection inside his pants. He was hooked now. He no longer wanted to leave, even though it might be painful to see such pleasure given and taken and not even know what it felt like himself. Jeff only played a little while, and then Kristen lifted her hips in a gesture that couldn't be missed, even by David. He took hold of the panties and slipped them off. The big wet stain in the center was clearly visible. David had never known that a woman could get so wet. He did not know the reality and power of a woman's arousal -- he had thought they just put up with it, or did it for favors. Her naked pussy, the lips swollen out and colored a bright pink on the outside fading to a deep vermillion within, shone with the copious honey that flowed from inside her. She pushed her hips towards Jeff, and he responded so quickly it almost looked savage and wild. He kissed her inner thighs, and she automatically spread her legs wider for him. It was obvious that his cock was almost painfully hard inside his pants, so much so he had to reach down and rearrange it slightly. But he knew his pleasure would not be denied, it would only have to wait a bit longer. He gave her hers. His face pressed into the V of her beautiful legs, and both Kristy and David could see the slight movement of his jaw that signaled the tongue working in her warm velvet folds. "Ooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, god, YES," a long moan came from the supine girl, that had such an inexpressibly pathetic quality to it, as though her whole soul was dancing quiveringly alive on the tongue that pleasured her. Jeff's head moved up and down, and the watching couple could tell that the long strokes of the wide tongue were scooping up the sexy Kristen's sweet honey. He was damn good at it, Kristy thought. If he didn't belong to Kristen, I'd like to have a few cracks at him. High-pitched moans escaped the lips of the transported girl. Along with "yes....yes.....oh god, fuck me, just like, oh ....justlikethat....". His head stopped moving up and down, and the voyeurs could see his lips puckered at the top of the furrow. His tongue was obviously working directly on her clit, as Kristy observed, even if David was lost on the details due to inexperience. Below, a hand crept up to insert a finger inside his squirming victim. As it did, she bucked and howled, "Yes, fuck me with it, oh god, YES!" Jeff began sensuously working his finger in and out. This had such an effect that Kristen began to lean back even further and clench her teeth as her beautiful features distorted in agonized pleasure. The combination of tongue and finger soon made her even wilder. Her hips began to heave in a rhythmic motion against him, making him need to flex his neck to keep his tongue on her clit, but he did it, driving in even more firmly the wilder she moved. It was the sounds she made that were so incredible, though. She didn't even try to be quiet, and there's no human sound quite like the noise a woman makes when she's really into sex -- not the fake sounds you hear in the porno movies. The tension in her moans and whimpers and gasps gave the two teen voyeurs and her boyfriend undeniable evidence of how far she was lost in otherworldly pleasure. Kristy could feel the sweet tension in her loins, the swelling of her sex, the wetness and heat begin to flow freely. She gave herself over to the excitement. A vibrant electricity seemed to flutter like butterfly wings all over her body. She wanted to reach down and touch herself but she forced her hand to wait. For his part, David felt a longing, a desperate need as his cock asked him to touch it, rub it, give it the pleasure it yearned for. He too forced himself to not move or touch. Jeff's oral pleasuring of Kristen quickly reached its climax. Such extravagant feelings could not last. "Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww GOD," she wailed, and heaved one last time, her face a contorted mask of ecstasy. Her loins just left the couch entirely and shoved into Jeff's face violently, pushing him back. He held on to her thighs, and she fell back, then heaved and wailed again. Even Kristy had seldom seen anyone let go so completely when they came. After that last heave, she fell back and lay there gasping over and over again in a breathless voice, "Oh god, oh god." Her breathing was harsh, and she kept gasping for breath. Jeff, his head still attached by the neck despite her thrashings, rested his chin on her brownish blonde bush and looked up at the contented face of his girl, eyes still closed but a sweet smile creeping across. His clean-shaven face and lips were shining with a thorough coating of her sweet juices. David seemed to have trouble breathing himself. He knew he shouldn't have watched this -- now he was rock hard and his body full of juice, and nowhere to go and nothing to do about it. It was agony, but kind of a sweet agony. He'd never been near this excited in his life. And confused. It was all too much. He wished he had a car of his own, or even a bike, so he could ride home and masturbate furiously, as many times as he could stand it. He had a jar of vaseline in his nightstand, and he knew he'd need it tonight. His eyes took in the sight before him one last time, and he vowed to remember it. Kristen opened her eyes, and the look of contentment and joy on her face was another thing among many he'd never dreamed of. He saw her reach down to her boyfriend's curly hair and stroke it lovingly. "You are a gorgeous wonderful man," she sighed. "I bet you've got a nice present hidden away for me right now, don't you?" Jeff thought of his throbbing cock and replied, "You bet, baby." "I'm ready for it, babe, but you just might need to carry me into the bedroom. My legs might be kind of weak." "Bull, your legs are stronger than mine, but I'll carry you if you want." Jeff then lifted his lover, naked but for her flimsy and open blouse, and cradled her in his arms as they headed for the bedroom for Round Two. Kristy and David could hear their conversation as they went in. "What if we mess up the bed, we'll have to wash the sheets," he was saying. "Better that than the couch, sweetie," Kristen replied with a giggle. They didn't bother to even close the door. David straightened up, his back aching and his legs weak. He hadn't realized how tight his body had been, but his cock was giving off pleasure sparks that, from long experience, he knew he had to ignore so it might go down until he could get in private. He started to move towards the kitchen, in a kind of daze that had made him almost forget his companion.But he hadn't gone two steps before a pair of surprisingly strong arms wrapped around him and pushed him against the wall of the hallway. Before he could react, a very warm and buxom female body pressed against his front, sandwiching his back tightly against the wall. "*You* are not going *anywhere*," said Kristy, her hands sliding up under his shirt along his sides. Her body melted into his. He'd felt a few girls up close at the two or three dances he'd gone to in his life, but nothing like this. My God, his cock was hard and she must be able to feel it! She didn't seem to mind, in fact, her body pressed as tight as it could, and then she pushed her loins forward to merge with his even harder. He could clearly feel her belly press up against his erection. There was nowhere to go, so he stood there. She held him tight and looked up into his eyes. He looked back, and the glowing heat he saw there almost shocked him. As they looked at one another, she began to undulate her hips in a sexy motion, rubbing her lower belly against his long cock stretched up so high that it rose several inches it seemed above his beltline. "I'm a woman, and you're a man, Dave honey," she breathed to him as she humped against him ever so slowly, "And you're hard, and I'm wet, baby, you know what that means?" He couldn't answer, so she continued, "It feels good, doesn't it, that rubbing. Feels good to me too, sweetie, it makes me want to make you feel so good." The motion did feel good to him, in fact, so good it almost made his vision blur. He felt a stirring inside that he'd never felt before. It made him feel reckless, unconcerned with Mom and her shame. Fire spread out from his loins, and he didn't try to fight it, but it was mingled with tension and fear; fear that he'd make a fool of himself. He didn't even know how to kiss, and here was this...expert...who would be disappointed in him. But he couldn't think of an escape, and her motion was rubbing his fear away slowly. She must have sensed it. "Don't worry, hon, I'll show you what you need to know. You led me through the equilateral triangles and asymmetrical slices, now just relax, baby, and follow my lead." "Okay," he said in a squeaky voice, but he did begin to relax a little. She was so sweet. He was used to girls making fun of him, used to words like "nerd" and "geek". But the sexiest girl in school seemed to want him, and was being nice to him -- it was a miracle that made him almost believe it was another dream. "Just stand there right now, baby, you don't have to do a thing. You're too hot to learn, hon, and I know just how to cool you down some. Lean back against the wall," she said, as if he wasn't already pressed there. Her warm body left him, and she dropped to a squatting position and began to undo his belt with an expertise that told of countless other unbeltings. As she did, her hand felt the outlines of his long and rather thin cock. Hmmm, she thought inwardly, another right-on. His fingers were long and thin too, and she'd told her girlfriends that the way to know how a man's cock was built was to look at his fingers. Mostly, it was true -- there were some notable exceptions she could think of, but Dave was right on the money with her theory. The belt undone, she undid the fastener and pulled the pants down to his knees. He felt the air on his legs. He couldn't help but look down, taking in a top view of her staring straight at his hard cock still hidden by his white briefs. She ran her finger up and down and all over the shape of it, making him tremble slightly as the shoots of pleasure hit his overheated brain. The pleasure was powerful, but the tension hadn't melted entirely. The tension was the only thing that gave him control, if you could call it that. Without the lingering uncertainty, he would have exploded at her touch. He closed his eyes, and then felt the finger loop under the elastic and pull down the briefs. God, he was naked in front of her, and she was right there looking at it! It was nasty and he didn't want to look, but he had to. He looked down just as she took his long, red, throbbing cock into her warm hand and began to stroke it up and down right in front of her eyes. The sight and feel were both overwhelming. He closed his eyes again, and very shortly felt a warm wetness at the tip of his cock. He couldn't believe this, he just couldn't. It wasn't happening to him. It wasn't real. He looked down again, drawn by some magnetism he wasn't aware of. And it was real. Her full pink lips closed tightly over his cock head, and the freckled face moved forward slightly as she took him slowly into her mouth. He could feel only smooth lips, somehow touching nerves and lighting fires that his own hand had never even come close to. And then the tongue -- he could clearly feel her tongue licking and circling and swirling gently against his sensitive sex like the beating of a thousand wings of angels. He closed his eyes and heard himself moan. He was floating on a sweet river of fire, and had no choice now but to ride with the current. Higher and higher he went, as the experienced tongue and lips and mouth of the teen sex goddess drove him to a controlled frenzy. His whole body burned and ached. He began to fear he would cum, and do a horrible thing by cumming in her mouth. "I...I...might...cum," he gasped to her. "Cum, baby. Cum, my sweet Dave. Give it to me, I want it, all you've got. Don't be shy, honey, squirt it in my mouth." She didn't want him to wait. Her tongue began to concentrate on the nerve bundle under the head of his cock. The torture in him rose, and he knew somewhere that he couldn't stop it, not now. His body seized, and his legs trembled. The heat, the agony, the thrill was like nothing he had ever known. Only his back firmly against the wall kept him from falling. He felt his cock stiffen deliciously, and then the pulses and waves of ecstasy overcame him as he felt the juice of life pump firmly out in spurt after spurt. She held her lips firmly around him, cradling his spasming organ in her warm welcoming mouth. She loved the feel of the pulses as the hot sperm splashed out on her tongue. Soon the ripples ebbed and slowed, and the flow dwindled to drops. He had cum a lot, and her mouth felt fairly full of the salty, sexy, unique taste. Some girls honestly didn't like it, but Kristy just loved it. Only when the boys had been drinking beer or something that made it bitter did she swallow without savoring the taste. She swirled it around but did not swallow, looking up at him. His eyes were closed and his chest was heaving. She rubbed his wet cock on her face, spreading trails of saliva and sperm in her freckles. At this, he opened his eyes and looked down, to see the sexiest sight he'd ever dreamed. As he did, she very deliberately ran her tongue out and over her lips as if to get every last drop, and then swallowed his load of sperm visibly, letting him see her throat muscles flex as it went down. She wanted him to know how she loved it, and for him not to feel guilty or that he'd done anything wrong by her. "Oh, God, Kristy. Oh my God," was all he could say. She stood up, hugged him tightly, and kissed his neck. A more experienced boy she'd have kissed on the lips, but she didn't want to freak him his first time, knowing how weird some boys were about sperm, even their own. "Didn't that feel so gooooooood?" she crooned in her sexiest and most seductive voice. "Oh yes, oh yes it did," his voice was returning to normal, now that he could get enough air in his chest, and his body relaxed its tension some. "Look, Dave, honey, I'm so wet and horny, can you help me like I helped you?" she asked in a plaintive voice. "I'll try," he answered. What else could he say? He was in her hands, literally and figuratively. "Here, step out of these so you can walk," she suggested, bending and pulling on his already down pants. Of course, he could also walk if he pulled them up, but that just wasn't the direction things were destined to travel on this incredible, unreal, impossible night. He stepped out of them as she helped him, his cock dangling out in the open, but somehow he no longer felt any shyness about it. After all, after he'd had it in her mouth and had cum there, what was the point of shyness? She then stood up and unbuttoned his shirt, running her fingers around in his curly chest hair. Even playing a bit with his nipple, which to his surprise sent a sharp thrill up his spine. Once the shirt was off, he was as naked as could be, wearing only his digital multifunction wristwatch. "No fair you getting naked and I'm not," she said, sticking out her lower lip in a mock pout. He got the hint, and reached forward and somewhat awkwardly pulled up on the edges of her t-shirt. She helped by raising her arms, and soon it was over her head and off, red hair cascading up and then down in a wild and fiery explosion. He looked at her, standing there in a bra and cutoff jeans. Her top was tanned a little, but her body had the white pallor that many redheads had. Her shoulders and back were covered with little freckles, which she might have thought were ugly, but he was enchanted with. On such a perfect body, a little imperfection was endearing. "Here, sweetie, it's time to learn how to take one of these off," she said, spinning around so her back was to him. "There's little hooks back there, under that overlap," she instructed. "Just pull the flap on the top to the left, and the hooks'll come out." With only a little trouble, and close observation, he undid the bra and let go the ends, letting it fall to the hallway floor. "Now, sometimes you won't be able to look, but just remember how those little hooks work and you won't have any trouble at all!" she smiled happily as she turned to face him with these words of wisdom.He couldn't help but look down at her breasts, full and beautiful, as good or better than any he'd seen in the men's magazines. The nipples were dark brown, contrasting with the milky white globes. "Do you like them?" she asked. "Oh, very much," he answered. "They're beautiful." "Yeah, a girl likes to hear that. Don't ever feel shy about telling a woman how good she looks. It may sound corny to you, but if you really mean it, she'll just glow and want you more. She'll give you rewards if you'll just have the sense to talk to her. Some boys just don't get it, but you're such a sweetheart, I want you to know, you understand?" She looked into his eyes. "Yes, I do," he said. He was just feeling his way along, reacting to her. She surprised him again by coming up close and hugging him tightly, her warm breasts pressed against his chest so hard he could feel her nipples. "Kiss me," she said, looking up at him. This was scary. He'd never really kissed a girl in a sexual way. He was sure he didn't know what to do. But he bent his face down a little, and felt her lips touch his. For a few sweet moments, just their lips touched, and then he began to feel her tongue creeping up against his lips. Then pushing a little further, until it was in his mouth fully. God! She was tongue-kissing him! He felt a surge go through him. The combination of the tongue, lips, and the feel of her firm young nipples against his chest caused his bare cock to stir and grow again. He didn't bother to fight it this time. He just wrapped his arms around her and drew her close, letting their sweet young flesh press close as their tongues danced and swirled together in pleasure. Kissing is the sexiest thing ever, he thought. But soon she drew away, and told him, "Come with me." They left the hallway, discarded clothing scattered on the floor, and went to the couch where so recently Jeff had given Kristen her peak of joy. It reminded him there was another couple in the house, and sure enough, as soon as he remembered, he could hear a soft "Ohhhhhhh yes" murmured from the open bedroom door. "Sounds like they're having some more fun!" said Kristy, not bothering to whisper. "C'mere, guy, and unsnap this." She meant her cutoffs, and he obeyed, reaching down and unsnapping the top. Kristy then spread the sides over her hips, and as they cleared the lovely bulges, they dropped instantly to the floor, and she stepped out of them. Wasting no time, she swung around and sat on the couch in her wet panties, and motioned for David to come and kneel between her knees. Squatting on his knees, he obeyed easily. It was almost like worshipping at the altar of love, he thought briefly, remembering a phrase he'd read in an erotic novel. Kristy was in the very same position that Kristen had been, her ass on the edge of the sofa and a pillow under her head, leaning back against the armrest. But Kristy, as usual, especially since meeting Pam, was in a talkative mood, even though the arousal coursed fiercely through her veins. "See this, sweetheart?" she said seductively, as her fingers traced the outlines of her obviously very swollen labia, still covered in theory by the very thin and very soaked panties. "See how wet I am?" "Yes," he replied, a little catch in his voice, his eyes glued to the spot, his cock hardening and throbbing and signaling it was ready for more. "When you see that, you know a woman's ready for her man. If you ever wonder if she's really into it, when you see this flood, you know she's sincere. That's the body talking, baby, and it doesn't lie." He just nodded. From the bedroom came another "Ooooooooooooooo" moan, but neither young lover was paying much attention right now. "Take 'em off, sweetie." She raised her hips, and let him slip off her panties. The dramatic view revealed took his breath away. The reddish-brown hair curled up over and around the swollen pink lips, the nearest strands soaked with the pungent wetness of her honey. He could smell it when her panties were on, but bare, the vertical smile emitted an aura of heat mixed with the most attractive scent David had ever inhaled. He'd heard some guys talk about how it smelled like fish, but they were ever so wrong. It was sexy and hot and nasty and wonderful. He loved it instantly. Kristy sexily touched herself, stroking her labia gently as he watched. She wanted more. "Touch it, hon, it won't bite." He did, letting his fingers stroke the wet, smooth, hot flesh. It was softer than anything he'd ever felt. "Ohhhh yeah, that feels so gooooood, honey." she breathed. "Put your finger in me, right here, see." She spread her lips to reveal the pink little vaginal entrance. Like a good boy, he slipped his finger into the dark tight tunnel as she had asked, wondering at the magic soft feel of it. "Deeper," she prompted, and easily his finger slid in to the knuckle. He was glad his nails were short. He didn't resist the urge to feel around and explore the mystery he'd been invited into, and was amazed at the folds, the mounds, the harder areas and the softer ones. He didn't know what he was feeling in there, but was just fascinated at the variety. It wasn't just a tunnel of flesh, but a living organ. "Oh, God, that's so good. Now take it out and let me...show you...one more thing." She felt she was on the edge of losing control but held on just barely, remembering her teaching role. Besides just the physical, it was incredibly sexy knowing that the virgin boy was seeing and feeling her for the first time, and would remember her for as long as he lived. "Now, Dave, a woman loves a finger in her pussy, and on her lips, but feel right up here, baby, at the top." He did. She guided his finger. "Feel that hard little bump? That's my clit, honey, and every girl's got one. Ohhhh! Baby, don't rub it right now, in just a second. Now, some are bigger and some are littler, but they're all there. That's like the spot underneath your cockhead, hon, it's the trigger that pops the gun. Some girls like pressure right on it, others just around it, but there's not a woman in the world that doesn't like it played with by tongues or fingers or cocks." He said nothing, he was tongue-tied. It was all just too wonderful. From the bedroom, they could both hear more moans. Kristy had lost all patience now. "Dave, it's all yours, baby, every bit of it. Do what you want and don't worry about anything. Just do me, and I'll help you if you need, but please, please make me cum. Please." She spread her legs for him and took her hands away. It was his first solo. His only guide was what she'd said, and what he'd seen Jeff do to Kristen. He never thought about not plunging in. He put his face down to her sweet, attractive sex and let his eyes feast one more time before turning and kissing the softness of her inner thighs. Like he'd seen Jeff do, he kissed his way closer and closer, until he heard Kristy pant "Hurry, David, kiss my cunt, baby. It needs a kiss so bad." He put his lips on her hot, velvet wetness and extended his tongue. The tangy, musky, sexy taste on his tongue-tip sent every last inhibition away. He loved it, absolutely loved it. He started licking, like a dog lapping up milk from the floor. Yeah, like a dog. Fuck it. He felt a surge go through him, a surge of pent-up animal instincts. Everybody had spent their whole lives trying to keep him from this, make him such a nice boy, such a fucking wimp. He felt wild and free at last. Nothing to stop him. Nobody to say "stop" or "shame". Wild, reckless, not caring. He licked up and down, feeling the hot juice in his mouth, letting the taste seep into his pores. He felt the indentation of her hole, and drove his tongue up into it in a wild gesture, as if to say "Fuck you, parents. Fuck you, teachers. Fuck you, world." "Oh yeah, baby, tongue-fuck me! You're a natural, baby, you love it. Get it in deep, stud lover." Kristy encouraged. He drove it in as deep as he could, and wished he could go deeper. His lips mashed against the hot lips and wet hair. He licked inside. His cock pulsed and throbbed. "Stud Lover"...he'd never been called that before! "My clit, baby. Lick it, honey, please, I wanna cum so bad, please!" she panted. He pulled his tongue out and sought the hard nub he'd felt before. It was bigger and more swollen than it was previously. He could feel it, and rolled it under his tongue. Damn, this was easy, he thought, why did he used to think it was so hard to do? He didn't know anything then. "Oh, yeah, baby, give me a steady rhythm, right on it, just don't stop, please don't stop." He continued to lick her, like a kitten lapping milk, with stroke after rapid stroke right directly on her clit as she had asked. She was silent for a minute, except for heavy breathing, then her feet dug into the floor and her hips began to rise up. He adjusted his position for her, and as she rose to about a foot off the couch, she shrieked... "Aiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeee" and heaved up. A flood of juice seemed to wet his face even further. He instinctively grabbed her thighs as Jeff had done Kristen, and held on tightly. But Kristy had a different style of cum. She grunted, "Uh! Uh! Uh!" and with every grunt, her loins jerked in a rhythm. After about eight or nine little feminine grunts and heaves, she flopped back on the couch, gasping. His face finally out of her wonderful crotch, he looked at his amazing handiwork. It was unbelievable, incredible, yet oh so real. The sexiest body he ever could imagine lay open and gasping, her face a mask of pleasure overflowing. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her legs were spread wide but swayed back and forth in some strange rhythm, her toes spread wide and digging into the carpet. There was a pink flush color all over her that looked almost like uneven sunburn.David didn't know what one was yet, but Kristy had just gotten a "full body orgasm," one that you feel in every muscle and fiber of your body from top of head to tip of toes. "Oh, Dave, come here and hug me," were her first words, after a few minutes of glowing. He did, sitting next to her on the couch and hugging her in a sweet, lusty, naked hug. She put her face into the V of his neck, licked there, and whispered, "Oh, you are a hell of a lover, guy." His smile was the broadest he could even remember feeling right then. He felt touched by a sweet fire from heaven, bright sunlight radiating on him in the dead of night. They both hugged silently, as Kristy soaked up the afterglow. David's cock was wanting attention again, but he was patient and didn't say anything. He just enjoyed the feel of her, warm and soft, next to his skin. In a while, they were aware, in the relative silence, of the sound of motion in the bedroom. They perked up their ears, David now unconcerned with privacy. "Roll over," they heard Kristen say. "Ooooooo," Kristy whispered to David, "Let's watch." She got up off the sofa, not waiting for a reply, and walked towards the bedroom door, her sexy ass swaying deliciously. David followed her with his eyes, then got up to walk with her to the door. He'd follow her over a cliff at this point, he thought. Kristy was not subtle. Naked without even a stitch on, she stood in the doorway and looked at Pam's waterbed (which as the reader of previous chapters will recall, she was very familiar). On it, arranged diagonally, lay Jeff's muscular body, fully naked also. And over him straddled the lovely Kristen, her blonde hair splayed in attractive disorder over her shoulders. Both had a sheen of sweat on their bodies. It was obvious that Jeff's cock was up inside his girlfriend, as she leaned forward and held a breast with one hand, to feed him the erect nipple to suck on. As he sucked, Kristen closed her eyes, then opened them again, soaking in the double pleasure of her stuffed pussy and licked nipple. He lapped and sucked, as he also reached up and rubbed and tweaked the other brown hard nub. After a minute or so, she couldn't take any more, and leaned back up. As Kristen opened her eyes, she caught a glimpse of her friend, naked and watching in the door opening. She didn't say anything or move at all, just smiled and locked blue eyes on blue eyes. David came up next to Kristy, but Kristen only glanced at him briefly. As she and Kristy shared some subtle female communication, Jeff caught on and twisted his head around to see. Once he saw the other couple watching, he smiled and winked, and turned back to watch his lover. Without taking her eyes off Kristy, Kristen began to fuck Jeff. Raising her hips in a slow, steady rhythm, she revealed the base of the thick cock that impaled her, before sinking down again and letting it fill her. It was so sexy, thought David, to see her trim and athletic ass rising and falling on Jeff's thick red cock. How did I ever get so lucky? "It's beautiful, isn't it?" asked Kristy. "Oh yeah," replied David enthusiastically. "That's got to feel so good, doesn't it?" she continued, eyes glued to the couple on the bed, "To feel your cock up inside a hot pussy as far as it will go. Knowing she loves it, knowing you're going to cum in there. Squirt your seed up inside her, where it belongs." Kristen rocked back and forth steadily. She could hear Kristy, and it seemed to inflame her passions. She closed her eyes and began humping harder, pulling up further, revealing more of Jeff's shiny hard cock. Kristy noticed the reaction. "Yeah, Kristen, go for it, girl. Fuck that thing, you hear me? You love it, don't you? I know you do. Fuck it till you make him cum in you, keep it going till he fills you up with his little spermies. I know he's got a big load in there for you," Kristy incited her friend. "Oh God yes, I do love it. I can't help it, it feels so fucking good," Kristen grunted shakily, as she began to be filled to overflowing with the sweet stings of sexual pleasure. Kristy turned to David. "That's fucking, hon. And it feels so good. You know it does, don't you?" To emphasize her point, she took David's long hard cock in her hand and began gently stroking it. "Yeah," David said, feeling the sugary pleasure on his member. "Doesn't that make you wanna fuck, Dave?" "Yeah it does, oh Kristy, yeah it really does." "We're gonna stay here and watch till Jeff cums in Kristen, and then I want you to fuck me, Dave, my stud man. Will you fuck me? Please?" "Yes," he said weakly, not taking his eyes off the rise and fall of Kristen's pretty ass as she humped Jeff's cock faster and faster. "Ohhhhhh god, what sweet fucking," the blonde girl moaned, as she cupped her lover's face with her hands during a pause. As she sat there, hot cock and wet pussy soldered together, he began to push up, needing release desperately. "Oooooooo," she moaned and began to hump back at him. They were clearly excited at being watched by their friends, and the situation was sending them both toward the sweet explosion of the cum. Soon they both lost all control. She began to thrust down harder, and he began to hump up more violently. The wet slap of their loins could be heard all over the house. "Oh, yes, baby please squirt it up me, I don't care, just please do it now!!" Kristen begged. He began to grunt and humped even harder. He was so fucking close. "Yes...yes....YES oh dammit give it to me, oh YES!" she moaned in his ear. "Here it cums baby," he groaned softly, then: "Ugggghhhh!" a grunt and moan at the same time as his hips pushed up. As deep inside her as he could go, his cock pulsed and squirted shot after shot of hot cum. Her hips quivered and shook, but it was the only motion visible as they tensely clung tight to one another, eyes closed as they both felt the ecstasy of the melting together of their sexual fluids. She delighted in the feel of his cock pulsing just at the external point where they were joined. At last, their bodies relaxed and settled back into the welcoming waterbed. They still held one another tight. Kristen sighed deeply, and began to plant little kisses all over Jeff's face. "I felt it, I really felt it squirt that time," she whispered quietly, but Kristy and David heard her. "Fuck me now," Kristy told David fiercely, "Fuck me right on the floor in this goddamn door." She lay down, spread her legs, and pulled him between them. He'd never heard or read of anyone so wild. "Here just lay between my legs on your knees." He got into position. She grabbed his cock and guided it to her hot hole. "Don't play around. Push it in me and fuck." All he had to do was push forward. He couldn't miss if he tried. The slick labia took his cockhead and guided it to its target. The virgin boy shoved his hips forward, so horny now he didn't care about much of anything. He didn't care about the other couple on the bed just a few feet away, and he didn't care about his parents, his teachers, his church elders and their lectures. His cock slid into the girl beneath him like a knife in hot butter. In no time at all, he felt his pubic hair push up against her labia and mingle with hers. So hot. So exquisite. "Oh, god, you bottomed out baby, you fill me up so good. Fuck me, baby, rub it in and out of me, make Kristy feel so good!" Even for a newbie, the motion of sex is easy and natural. He began to work his hips back and forth, not thinking about it, just going with the feelings in his body. The result was a slow explosion of unfathomable pleasure that built around his cock, as Kristy flexed and relaxed her muscles to increase the friction for both of them. "Ooooo baby you're a sweet fucker, honey, you're gonna cum in it and fill me up, Oh YEAH!" He stopped. Gasping, he heeded a small voice of caution. "Kristy, I don't want to make a baby in you," he gasped, holding his cock still inside her. She opened her eyes and looked up at him. She'd played a game with others before, but not with this boy. She took his face in her hands and said, "Don't worry honey, I'm safe. Just let it go. Shoot it deep in me. I need it. Please, please." He began the motion again, and this time the little pause made the streaks of joy even stronger. He heard himself groan. The level of pleasure your body could give you was just out of comprehension, he thought in the last sane corner of his mind. He felt her legs wrap around him, holding him strongly in her. As he humped, he felt her heave back at him. Their breathing was ragged as they gasped and moaned. All either knew now was the feel of cock sliding in pussy. They were beyond words now. Kristen and Jeff, temporarily sated by their mutual orgasm, watched fascinated and aroused by the wild animal scene in the doorway. They had a great rear view, and when Kristy raised her fantastic legs and wrapped them around the slim waist of her tallish lover, they got a wonderful view of his long slim cock sliding wetly in and out of her. As they watched, Kristy quite obviously went over the edge. She began to hump quickly and frantically, and grunted her little grunts. David sensed her cumming and slowed briefly. "Uh! Uh! Uh!" she panted again and again. He thought he'd be able to feel her cum, but he could only feel an increased tightness. But he did feel her hips pushing up to him in a quick rhythm. He knew by some instinct she was there, and it fired him to the last degree. His ass was on autopilot as he humped and fucked her now, groans and grunts coming from his lips. Soon David felt the opening of the valves that told him no matter what, the cum was going to shoot from his cock. He groaned, unable to give his lover any more warning, and pushed up violently and deeply in her in an instinctive ancient move to plant his sperm as deeply as possible.Then his loins seized, and he felt his asshole tighten deliciously as his cock stiffened to its last degree, and the spasms flooded his overloaded brain. Kristy held him tight and she felt him stiffen and could even feel the pulses of his cock at the base of her sensitive lips as the hot white juice she loved flowed into her open womb. "Oh yesssssssssss," she moaned, again and again, even as he came, and even as he relaxed atop her. Their panting and gasping had barely ended, and his cock was still stiff up inside her, soaking in their mutual honey, when they both heard the sound of gentle applause. Their audience was very appreciative. David couldn't move, but Kristy raised her arm high and shot up a thumb, in a gesture of joy and triumph.

Chapter 6 - Sex Ed with Kristy

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/9768.txt

o_rofrano@hotmail.com

In the moon that is always rising.

"Wheresoever she was, there was Eden." Mark Twain wrote that. I always thought it sounded cool. The ultimate compliment in six words. So unexpected in context, so complete in sincerity, so simple in expression. But I never knew what those words really meant until Kate taught me. A friend of mine from the German department introduced us at a party he hosted. As parties go, that one was pretty restrained. No loud music. No dancing. No kegs. Just the soft sounds of a stereo and lots of conversation. Kate was a first-year graduate student in English; I was a second-year in math. Since I skipped the sixth grade and completed college in three years, it turned out Kate was actually a few months older than me. We enjoyed many of the same activities. We both loved to paint and cook. (She was much better at both though.) She liked classical music too but wasn't the opera fiend I am. We did share a common passion for literature -- the gift of language -- and that's what we talked about when we hit it off. Who would have thought staying awake when my undergrad Russian Civ. class discussed WAR AND PEACE would help me meet the girl of my dreams? Anyway, after that party we cooked a couple of meals for each other and hung out on the weekends. I took her to see the symphony play some Tchaikovsky; she even agreed to make the five-hour drive down to the Met to see LA CENERENTOLA with me. I usually take relationships slowly. Yeah, I did kiss her after our first real date, but it was a while before we got into bed. It finally happened about a month after we began seeing each other. We ate dinner at our favorite Chinese restaurant and frittered most of the evening away talking. Conversations with Kate tend to be manic affairs -- she confided that hardly anyone besides her parents and her younger brother could keep up -- but apparently we were a match. We traded stories from our lost youth and filled each other in on the latest books we'd read. (Kate's was THE GRAPES OF WRATH for the second time that year; if you discount number theory textbooks, mine was THE LAND OF LAUGHS.) We discussed the singular habits of a small band of renegade geese that refused to migrate south with the others and contentedly remained at the lake waking half of campus up at daybreak even as cool October turned into cold November and the days grew ever shorter. After pondering the peculiar behavior of cola when salt is generously heaped into it, we swapped fairy tales. I told her the sad history of the Ring of the Nibelungs, and she spoke of the Butterfly Dream of Chuang-Tzu. Together, we wondered about Merlyn, frozen in wood by a sorceress' spell, and prophesied his liberation by the king who would one day return. We could easily have kept at it all night, feeding off each other's voices, but the attentions of the proprietor and her staff made it clear that we should depart. Stepping outside into the only slightly chilly autumn air, we headed downhill the half-mile towards Kate's apartment. The afternoon had been one of the loveliest of the season -- Indian summer came late to the Northeast that year -- and the evening was, if anything, even more splendid. Although it was but ten o'clock on a Saturday night, somehow an inexplicable quiet surrounded us. Hardly anyone walked about; the traffic was subdued, almost non-existent. The footlights in front of the campus buildings lent the columned facades an otherworldly aura. Indeed, it was a magical night, the kind of eve when faeries mingle and dance with mortals under the naked oak trees; when nature and the heavens conspire to sculpt and present to us a perfect hour, a gift so that we may remember and, in remembering, preserve beauty if only as a memory; when a man and a woman would declare their love to each other, their longing and affection and desire witnessed solely by the earth below and the black velvet sky festooned with jewel-like stars and the harvest moon above. It was a night for lunatics and lovers and poets, a night for Kate and me. Glancing up above the church steeple about a block ahead, I quoted, "The moon shines bright: in such a night as this, when the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees and they did make no noise, in such a night Troilus methinks mounted the Trojan walls and sigh'd his soul toward the Grecian tents, where Cressid lay that night." To my surprise, she continued where I'd left off. "In such a night did Thisbe fearfully o'ertrip the dew and saw the lion's shadow ere himself and ran dismay'd away." "In such a night stood Dido with a willow in her hand upon the wild sea banks and waft her love to come again to Carthage." "In such a night Medea gather'd the enchanted herbs that did renew old Aeson." With exaggerated gestures I went on: "In such a night did Jessica steal from the wealthy Jew and with an unthrift love did run from Venice as far as Belmont." "In such a night did young Lorenzo swear he loved her well, stealing her soul with many vows of faith and ne'er a true one." "In such a night did pretty Jessica, like a little shrew, slander her love, and he forgave it her," I finished, delighting in the rich cadence of the words and dissolving in a fit of gentle mirth. Kate wore this huge smile on her face. "I didn't know you knew Shakespeare so well," said she, grasping my hand. "Just the good parts," said I. We continued quietly through certain half-deserted streets. I felt uneasy though. I knew what I wanted to say, but I wondered if this was the right time. "Screw your courage to the sticking-place. Tell her. Ask her," a small voice in my head encouraged. "Fair Jessica, did we just announce that we're falling in love or am I imagining it?" I inquired, in a quavering voice. Enveloped by a new silence even less amiable than the last, we approached the next street. The music of the spheres dimmed. The wind died down. The trees stopped swaying, their branches hanging solemnly in the mute air like my unanswered question. It was as though God finally reached five hundred quadrillion Mississippi and paused for a breath. In that interminable interval between one tick and the next, a single question hammered away, relentless in its urgency: "Did I just say the wrong thing?" "Gentle Lorenzo, if you're dreaming, then so am I," she responded, tightening her grip on my hand -- and my heart -- with her words. "Then we are such stuff as dreams are made on," I said, in my best Bogart voice which, unfortunately, was a truly pathetic imitation. But, nonetheless, the future opened out pregnant with possibility. We waited at the curb while traffic whizzed by. I stared into her eyes. She stared into mine. Our lips met. My arms wrapped around Kate's back and pulled her close. Her hands leapt up to my face. We held the kiss. A car horn broke the connection. We clasped each other's fingers and crossed the now still street. I brought her hand up to my lips and gave it a quick peck. Another silence. This time, it satisfied. We reached her apartment building, bounded up two flights of stairs with an alacrity of spirit, and entered her humble abode. I sat on the old, dilapidated couch in her tiny living room. She opened the fridge, grabbed a couple of beers, and handed me one. "Wait here a minute," she said before disappearing into the adjoining bathroom. "I'll put some music on," I told the rustling and banging that was Kate closeted behind the bathroom door. I rummaged through her disorganized CD collection, found what I was looking for, and put a Beethoven disc in Kate's little stereo. I heard a flush. She tirled at the pin and returned as the Hand of Fate started knocking on our door. If music be the food of love, play on; give me excess of it. I. Allegro con brio. ------------------- Kate sits down next to me on the sofa. I drape my left arm around her shoulder and hold her. For a moment, there we sit and let the sounds of music creep into our ears. I turn around to look at her. Backlit by moonlight streaming in through the window, her face achieves an ethereal glow. She's as divine as a Raphael Madonna. A bird squawks outside. Is it a nightingale or a lark? Or a goose? Does it matter? My face sinks the two inches to meet hers. Our lips brush against each other's for an instant; my tongue darts out to wet them. I pull her lower lip into my mouth and suck on it briefly and lift my hands up to her cheeks to frame her face.Fingers splayed, I gently push her back into the couch. Our heads rotate in opposite directions and veer together until our noses rub. My tongue parts her lips and pounds against her teeth while Beethoven's fate motif resounds through the room. My hands finger the unbuttoned top of her blouse. The gate opens. My tongue snakes inside to joust with hers. Kate's hands grip the back of my neck, pulling me in still closer. My hands caress her back. The kiss is a moment arrested in eternity. I move her hair behind her ears. My lips tickle her nose, her cheeks jostle against mine, and the metal frames of our glasses clank. We remove them, and she climbs atop my lap. I tilt her head back to taste her neck. Looking down her shirt, I see the top of her bra. My hands yank the shirt out of her skirt, then slip beneath to fly along her spine. On the third clumsy attempt, I succeed in unclasping the bra. She slides her fingers down the blouse and lifts it out. Through the cotton, I observe the outline of her hardening breasts. With her arms out of the way, I stare longingly at the tops of her breasts. My hands extricate themselves from under her blouse and reappear in front to fondle her chest through the fabric. Kate jumps a little when my palms cover her, and she slowly flows into me, moaning her approval as I tweak her nipples. Her fingers unbutton my shirt. As she exposes my chest, her lips press against my skin. When she finishes, I wrestle the shirt off and chuck it across the room. My turn. Fingers trace the contour of her collarbone and descend down her chest into the exposed cleavage. Unfastening the third button of her white blouse lets me slide it off her shoulders. Undoing the fourth completely reveals her bare breasts. I gaze at them with awe, wonder, respect, and adoration, and slowly glide my hands across their curves. I force myself to surrender perfection and make brisk work of the remaining buttons. Bending my head to greet her chest properly, I kiss her clavicle and leisurely travel downwards. Teeth playfully gnaw at the skin immediately above her breasts. The rest of my mouth demands a piece of the action and soon takes over. As I tongue her breasts, the areolae stiffen. Small pink mountains burst out of a sea of skin. I nibble on her erect nipples the way a small rabbit might begin a meal. Her hands push my head into her chest, holding them there, spurring me on. The solitary sea subsumes me. Reverting to the instincts of infancy, I just suckle. Eventually, my hands race across her inner thigh. She spreads her legs a little to admit my fingers into the cave of her skirt. Is this the Allegory of Love? (I couldn't see either Folly or Time, but I don't doubt Venus and Cupid were both there with us.) Kate kicks off her sandals and lifts up her ass. I relieve her of her purple panties and bring them up to my face. Sniffing deeply, I revel in their musky odor. Tossing her underwear to the floor, our lips meet once more. This time her tongue worms its way into my mouth, and the combat begins anew. II. Andante con moto. Yearning like a god in pain, my erection strains uncomfortably into denim. Kate must have felt its throbbing moments before because her hands undo my belt buckle and unbutton my pants. She slides off me, and I get up and kick off my shoes and hop around comically trying to disentangle my feet from my jeans and boxers. The air is cold, but my cock stands perfectly rigid. Kate gives it a friendly glance. Meeting my eyes, she kneels before me, toppling the unopened and by now forgotten bottles of Pete's Wicked. Her warm hands massage my balls. I groan in ecstasy. She dives between my legs, surfaces beneath my scrotum, and, taking each sac into her hot mouth, sucks my balls clean. Kate coos and runs her lips along the bottom of my shaft from its base up to the head. She strokes my length and stabs her tongue at the single cloudy tear dripping off the eye of my little cyclops. Then, she grazes the head of my dick; covering just its tip with her mouth, barely raking it with her teeth, the bottom of her tongue presses against it. Her lips encircle the annular indentation whence the foreskin once emerged. I clench my jaw in pleasure. My hands course through her hair as Kate releases the head and blows across it. Her fingers pull my skin tight at the base of the shaft. At first, she only takes the tip back in, bathing it in saliva. Kate inaugurates a bobbing motion. Her strokes are deliberate, each enveloping a little more of the shaft. The head never leaves her mouth; she licks it on every pass. Ere long, my entire cock vanishes into her, only to reappear and vanish again. Her hands clutch my butt. I know my geyser will soon erupt. To delay the inevitable climax, I mentally recite the first twenty digits of pi over and over again. It works, and the suspense is perilously sustained. Kate starts to rotate her mouth as she fucks me with her face. Her tongue slides along the bottom of my cylinder on every stroke. I can't contain myself any longer. I tell her I'm coming. A finger slips into my anus. I explode. She stops sucking and holds the bulging head of my dick in her mouth. An avalanche of cum tears down my mountain and buries her tongue in mounds of melting snow. A feasting presence so full of light, she accepts my gift. III. Allegro. Gazing into her cherubic face, as beautiful and innocent as a vision in a dream, I help Kate to her feet. I thank her. Then I kiss her, my tongue exploring the mouth I just shot into. I notice a few stray drops of whiteness upon her chin and lick the dribble off, sharing it with her. I slide her blouse off and push her back down onto the sofa. My hand sprints down her chest to greet her waist. She sucks in a deep breath, and I unbutton her skirt. Sliding it off her legs, I stare at her body in its full splendor for the first time. Even Helen was but a shadow compared to this. "You're beautiful," I remark, tremulously. It's the truth, but the words are inadequate. I worship her like an acolyte reveres his master. Setting off on my pilgrimage by taking her toes into my mouth, I lift her legs up and lick the hollow behind her knees. My hands exalt in the smoothness of her skin. Methodically working towards the altar of the goddess, virtuoso lips kiss first one, then the other calf. Like a giant bird opening its wings, Kate parts her thighs. When I finally reach the temple, my fingers loop through her pubic hair. Pressing my hands against her slit, I shove a pair of fingers into her moist cunt, sliding them in and out to simulate fucking. Kate's sighs are the music of Orpheus, the apotheosis of sound. Eager lips usurp the fingers' ministrations. My tongue thrusts out, and the snake enters the Garden. It explores her pussy, teasing her. It penetrates her cunt, coaxing an endless string of soft and blissful moans. The tongue ultimately attacks her clit. Licking it. Sucking it. Leaving her gasping for breath. Rasping in desire. Shuddering in delight. The rising ocean crashes against crumbling dikes. The dams collapse. A searing paroxysm shatters the flood-gates and bathes her pulsating femininity in a torrent of warm ambrosia. Ecstasy fuses with the orgiastic music of thunder and dissolves in a tender embrace. IV. Allegro. I stand up and kiss her, letting her taste of herself while I taste of myself. The nectar of the gods couldn't be as sweet. We migrate to her bedroom and fall onto her bed. Separated by a wall, Beethoven sounds thinner and less expansive but paradoxically more immediate and human as well. Our hands scamper across each other's bodies. I return to her breasts and lick and kiss and nip at them like a condemned man savoring a final meal. My tongue dashes down her front and gets sucked into her navel the way a whirlpool or a black hole devours everything which gets in its way. I lie down on her and cover her neck with my mouth, watching goose-bumps rise on her skin. My dick, even harder than it was when she blew me, rests right below her crack. Her legs spread, inviting me to enter. 'Tis a consummation devoutly to be wish'd. "Should I go find a condom, Kate?" I ask, praying her response is negative. Someone on Olympus smiles on me as she shakes her head. "Fuck me," she says desperately. "Just fuck me. I need you now." I gladly oblige. The bow is drawn. The shaft flies true. With a sudden thrust, my tongue disappears into her mouth just as my dick is swallowed by her slit. Her cunt muscles respond to the intrusion by squeezing my member. Shifting my weight to my elbows, I initiate a frantic pumping and then gradually slow my strokes down. Kate lifts her butt off the bed, allowing me to plunge still deeper. I commence a circular motion that Kate matches. Initially, our movements are relaxed but swiftly become more violent and less controlled. When I sense Kate's spasm approaching, I stop twisting and lift myself out of her. Ignoring her moans of protest and resisting her efforts to pull me back in, I rub the tip of my cock against her labia and circumscribe her clitoris with a thumb and forefinger. I know that by keeping her excruciatingly poised on the precipice of orgasm I'm only delaying my own release, but I also know that easing off now will make the climax that much stronger when it arrives. I'm not sure she agrees because her nails dig into the sensitive skin right below my armpits. Biting into her shoulders, I give her what she wants, placing the knob back inside to emphatic sighs of welcome. With leisurely strokes, I burrow my length home. Like a python, Kate's pussy constricts about my cock.I enter into a rhythm, alternating slow strokes with fast ones, and after a minute abandon the slow ones altogether. Over the plaintive wails of the bedsprings, I hear her mantra: "Harder. Harder. Harder." Language is only rarely so eloquent. Kate's fingers sink into my back while I drive in and out of her cunt. Her legs wrap around my ass. Heightening our frenzy, her body shoves back in time with my thrusts. Suddenly, the walls of her vagina convulse around me. She arches her back. A primal scream echoes in my ears, and Kate thrashes furiously underneath. Her thighs hold me in a vise-like grip. I stop fighting my orgasm. A shudder, a tremor, and a heroic palpitation. Then a whimper, a trembling, and a final quiver. Six spurts of sperm fly into her drenched cleft. We die the little death and are resurrected to die again. I pull out of her and rub my cum-covered dick against her clit. It takes but a few moments: She gasps. The rill sings its liquid notes and fades melodiously away. Encore? Sheltered by a luxurious afterglow, we lay on her bed, her head leaning against my shoulder, my right leg carelessly hooked through hers, her hands drifting across my chest, our souls grappled each to the other with hoops of steel. I looked at her, opened my mouth to say something, and changed my mind. The silence was far more satisfying than words could ever be.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11430.txt

Andrew Roller

Summer of Sin

"Put it away, Page," I said. He was playing with his Tamagotchi again. Well, that was the slang for it, since that's what the first one was called. In fact, it was called a "Palm Pet." It was only supposed to be for guys over 18, so naturally, Page had one, even though he wasn't 18 yet. He liked it. It featured a girl. You could make her do just about anything you wished. Page undressed her very slowly the first day he got her. Then, as he gave his sexual urges freer reign, he made her do other things. "Put it away," I told him again. "She's coming." "I know. She's cumming!" Page said. "Not here, numbnuts. The prosecutor," I told Page. "Oh." Page said. He fumbled with his Palm Pet, slipped it into his pocket. Together we watched the woman coming out of the courthouse. They said she was a "top prosecutor." She put a lot of men and boys in prison. We watched her crossing the street, briefcase in hand, her feminist lackey beside her. God knows what he was. "Junior top prosecutor"? Page stepped out first. Page. Fucking Page. I think he was going to do some kind of Mark David Chapman, John Lennon thing. You know, "Pleased to meet you, ma'am? I admire your work. May I have your autograph?" But my finger was like, you know, "This is it." At last. It had taken us two weeks to smuggle the gun parts into the center of the city, past all the guards. The first time we assembled it and tried firing it, we almost killed ourselves. My hands were still burned from that. Page put out one of his burned hands toward the woman, like he wanted to shake hands with her. Her lackey, sensing trouble, darted in front of her. His lackey eyes narrowed, and he pushed at Page. "Get back, Page!" I shouted. I wasn't much more experienced at shooting laser rifles than I was at assembling them. The lackey turned, looked at me. He reached into his jacket, fast. I fired. There was an eruption where his neck connected to his head, and the head just kind of popped up, like a ball, ripped neck muscles flaying uselessly at open air where the head had once been connected, where all those lackey thoughts had travelled down from his brain to the places that actually worked normally, like his asshole. (His asshole, give it credit, continued to function normally. At the severing of his head, his shithole made a nice big crap in his thousand-dollar pants.) The "top prosecutor" watched as her lackey's headless body crumpled backward and fell to the street. She seemed shocked. Her eyes looked past his body toward his head, rolling aimlessly down the street. I think in that moment of horror she actually, in locating his head, tried to say something to it, but then her higher brain prevailed and countermanded the order, realizing it was quite useless. She turned toward me. It's interesting how someone powerful looks when they're at the wrong end of the barrel of a gun. At first, there was rage in her eyes. Page was still trying to do something smart-ass, like ask her for her autograph. I felt like shooting his head off too, but I needed him. He was useful as a diversion if nothing else... Page's antics caused the woman to turn her glance away from me and look at him. At the same moment, she tore open her handbag and reached into it. I never found out whether there was pepper spray in there, or a real weapon. She focused on Page, I think, in her last moment of life, because he was nearer. Amazing how the primal instinct goes for things like that, isn't it? I have a gun, but since guns were only invented in the last 300 years or so, she goes for Page, because he's nearer. And weirder. But he was, you know, unarmed. A weird-fucking dude, a threat to the social order, probably somebody who needed to be prosecuted right away but, nonetheless, unarmed. I fired. The shot missed. The prosecutor dug around in her handbag, reaching for whatever it was she was looking for. Lipstick? I fired again. I hit her that time. Right in the chest. She had no tits to speak of, so I didn't consider it a loss of anything important. Her insides became her outsides, and her outsides just kind of disappeared. She fell backward, the blast knocking her a good five yards before she hit the street. I ran up to her, aimed at her head, and fired again. I didn't want to take any chances. Doctors are good these days. Especially with expensive patients, like her, who earn them a good return because of insurance. I aimed for the 'brain,' if you could call it that, given all the feminist crap that was clogging it. Her head blew open, and I felt a wave of satisfaction and relief. Almost at once I heard sirens. "Shit man, you did it!" Page said. He danced around me and the woman's body. He put a rolled-up fist to one of his eyes and pretended to film the whole thing, like he was going to put it on the 10 o'clock news. "Well, yeah. I guess I did," I said. My first kill. No, my second. The lackey was my first. I hadn't been sure, five minutes ago, if I'd have the guts to do it. Now I had two notches in my belt. Too bad I wasn't wearing one. "Shit, and I wanted to get her autograph too," Page told me. "Now you can have anything you want," I said. I looked at Page. I motioned towards the woman's purse. "No, man," Page said. "That would be, like, stealing. You know, desecrating the dead. This is for Liberation, right?" "Yeah," I said. "But we could use the money for the Cause." Page considered a moment. I heard sirens wailing louder. I thought I heard a gun go off, somewhere. Screams reached my ears distantly. It was like I was in a vacuum, even though I was standing out on the sidewalk, next to the street. "Yeah. For the Cause!" Page said. Then he leaped down on the woman's purse. Almost at once he got hold of some money, actual Benjamins, and he tore them out of her purse and lifted them up to me. "Let's go," I said, turning. I didn't want the money. I needed to be able to shoot and run. Page didn't have a gun. Let him hold the fucking money. Another gunshot. I think that one was close to my head. 'Do Unto Others As They Do Unto You,' you know. I guess the feminist lackey's "Junior Prosecutor" had some friends. Other prosecutors, cops, court clerks, who knows? Anybody authorized to carry a gun in the center of the city. And that was the whole fucking establishment, except for people like me and Page. Moving as if in slow motion, I broke from the vacuum that seemed to enclose me. I gaped with a kind of childlike innocence at the people nearest me. Yes. Nearest. My primal mind worked the same as the prosecutor's. I didn't know whether they were armed or unarmed. I fired. Once. Twice. Again. I heard more screams. Louder. More urgent. I saw blood but paid no attention. "Let's go, Page!" I said. He took one final camera-look at the prosecutor and her dead lackey through his curled fist. We ran out into traffic. Horns. Screeching tires. Someone cursed, and I fired in the direction the curse had come from. I don't know if I hit him or not. A Porsche stopped. "Nice car," Page said. "Too unique," I said. I saw a Ford. It was one of those big fucking vehicles families ride around in these days. It had stopped, near the Porsche, in the middle of the street. They always tell these people, 'don't rubberneck,' but they do it anyway. I aimed for the driver. BLAM! BLAM! Two shots. The side of his window shattered. His head flew off and bounced around inside the front part of his van and then plopped into his wife's lap. She was sitting beside him. I fired at her. I hit her head too. "Head shots," Page said, echoing G. Gordon Liddy. He yanked open the driver's door. He gaped at the interior. It was drenched in blood. "God, what a mess." "Get in!" I said to Page. I pushed him from behind."All this stuff will ruin my clothes!" Page protested. I shoved hard. He gave a wail and went sprawling into the body fat and blood that now soaked the whole interior of the vehicle. At the same time, the driver, headless, decided to come out for a rest break. His body slumped towards me. His arm dangled down into the street. It was as if he were reaching for the ground that would soon hold him forever. I climbed over him. Page threw the woman out the other side of the vehicle. I pushed the driver down onto the asphalt below. He made a sickening thud as he hit the street. "Goddammit, there's a dog in here!" Page shouted. I heard loud barking. I turned and saw some big monster trying to bite Page's head off. I fired. It burst into blood and bone fragments, and one of the beast's bones, flying past my head, almost put my eye out. Imagine that. I've got cops and God-knows-what shooting at me, and I almost lose an eye thanks to some dumb dog. I threw the laser rifle into Page's lap. I yanked the driver's side door closed. Page's door on his side of the Ford van was still open. I grabbed the wheel. The vehicle had begun rolling, or perhaps had never quite stopped, and now I hit the gas hard. We lurched forward. A gunshot hit the front windshield, and it caved in on us. I blinked, found I still had both my eyes from that mess, and shoved the glass toward Page. A clear view of the street presented itself through the broken-open front of the van's windscreen. I felt chilled air on my face. At the same time, I heard, softly, the purring of the interior heating system. The van was like a body half-blown away, but with the other half, unknowingly innocent of it all, still functioning normally. Like the prosecutor's asshole, dumping a load in his pants after I'd already removed his head. "Shut your door, Goddammit, Page!" I shouted. I looked in his direction. He was tripping on the whole scene, the glass, the sudden possession in his lap of my gun, all the while the side door open next to him. I heard a slam. More gunshots. I careened around the back of a truck and looked over at Page again. He got the door closed. His side of the van struck a car a moment later. "Watch where you're going," Page grinned. He liked movies with wild car scenes in them. Now we were the stars of one. Dirty Mike and Crazy Page. Too bad we didn't have any Mary with us. Just some dumb, dead dog. "God, this is a mess," I said, looking briefly down at my lap. There was blood, human remains, glass, everything all over the inside of this (formerly) luxurious Ford van. The heating system warmed it all, combating the chill blowing in from the front of the shattered windscreen. "Where's the fucking Lift Bar?" I asked Page. I let go with one hand from the steering wheel and groped along the blood-spattered dashboard. "This isn't a lift area!" Page shouted to me. He grinned as we hit another car. "Damn Toyota," I heard Page mutter under his breath, still grinning. "Goddammit, I know this isn't a lift area! Where's the Bar?" I screamed at Page. I was feeling kind of desperate now. I was still hearing gunshots and they weren't far away. "We'll hit something if you Lift!" Page warned me. "We'll get our ass blown off if we stay Grounded," I told him. "There's no windshield! We can't do a Jump!" Page told me. Grinning, for we were still careening wildly down the street, he pointed at the shattered windscreen. "Hell, I know that! I just want some Lift!" I yelled back. "This isn't a lift area--" Page began. I found the Lift Bar and yanked on it. Suddenly, the van's tires drew in. Engines spiraled neatly downward from the underside of the van. We both heard a roaring sound. And then we went up. A hard burst of unfriendly fire scudded beneath us, just missing us. A moment more of being Grounded and we might have both been killed. I felt a hard bump as our van thudded into something overhead. There was a shower of sparks, and something, a sign I guess, tumbled past us and slammed into the street. "See? You hit something! This isn't a lift area!" Page said. But his grin widened as our van rose higher, and we topped a building's roof. A spectacular sunset greeted our eyes. Gleaming in the setting sun were the Sky Dwellings. Prime real estate. I guess at one time people could lie in grassy fields and look up and just see clouds. But now, with anti-grav technology, all that empty space in the sky was starting to fill up. "Let's go," I said. I groped along the dashboard again, feeling for the Lift Forward button. It was hard to find it in amongst the blood and bodily tissue streaking the dash. "Can't. There's no fucking windshield," Page said. "We can't Jump," I said. Meaning, of course, that we couldn't leave Earth's atmosphere. I wasn't sure if this model of Ford was built for it, anyway. "But we can damn well hit the gas." Meaning, of course, not the gas pedal, that was for Groundside. Rather, the Lift Forward button. I found it. There was a blast of air through the shattered windscreen as we lurched forward. Page screamed. The wind drowned it. The gunshots I'd been hearing faded away. "I can't see!" Page, his eyes narrowed to slits, complained through the wind. My eyes were barely open themselves. The Ford streaked through the sky, over the city below, making the air rush in on us. The Sky Dwellings loomed larger as we rushed toward them. "Don't worry. I can see well enough to know when to stop," I told Page. "You'd better," Page said. The buildings floating in the distance bulked larger in our windscreen. "I don't want to be a pancake," Page said. A burst of laser fire hit the back of our Ford. It careened wildly in response. I clung to the wheel. Somehow I kept the Ford from dipping into a fatal dive. Page turned, looked back. The next thing I knew the laser rifle was going off beside me. Page was firing. I glanced toward him. With a hand on the driver's side door, precariously gripping the window frame in the door, his upper body was completely out of the window. He was sitting with his ass on the bottom of the window frame. He looked like he was in a movie. Except he wasn't. BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! "Fucking Page!" I yelled. "I almost hit one!" Page shouted. THHHWUNK! Our Ford careened again as a well-placed shot slammed into us. I didn't dare turn around. A quick glance in the rear-view showed what I most feared. Two gaping holes, near the back of the Ford. We had twin moon roofs now. But the engine showed in the dashboard that the damage done by the laser blasts was causing it to overheat. "Damn, they were quick!" I said to Page. Meaning, the skyborne police vehicles. I guess I hadn't counted on them being that quick. "They were quick, Page. Too quick," I said. I looked over at him. "We ain't gonna make it," Page said. He slipped back into the Ford. His face was pale. He was holding the laser rifle aloft. He pulled the trigger. I cringed. But nothing happened. Our gun was empty. We had no reloads for it. I gazed ahead of us. The Sky Buildings were coming up fast. I saw people standing on a terrace about midway up one of the nearer buildings. They pointed. "They're pointing at us!" I said. I had found a piece of the windscreen that was still intact. It was over in the leftmost corner of the (formerly) screened area. "Yeah," Page said. I glanced at him and saw he had a similar setup; a small corner of glass that he could hunch behind to see through, and keep the wind out of his eyes. (Actually out of only one eye; he had to close the nearer one. The wind was coming in too strong to keep both of them open.) "We're the life of their party," Page said. He shoved his rifle through the broken portion of the windscreen and pulled the trigger. Nothing. "Page..." I said. There was a sense of unreal coolness in my voice. "Yeah?" he shouted over the roar of the incoming wind. "We've got no chance against the cops," I said. He heard me, somehow, even though I didn't think I'd said it loud enough. "No chance! They came up so fast!" Page yelled to me. "So fast! But we got her!" I yelled to Page. "Yeah," Page agreed. "Page?" I asked. "Did you ever crash a party?" "Hmmm?" Page asked. He looked at me and grinned. It was all the permission I needed. We both knew what kind of people lived in the Sky Dwellings. "I've never been invited to a party, actually," I thought I heard Page say. As he said it, I instinctively looked down. Down at the seat. The Sky Dwellings were coming up very fast now. The people on the terrace had stopped pointing and were drawing back, beginning to run. I wanted to stare at them, at their horrified faces, as we shot straight into the middle of them, but instead I found myself gazing down at the seat, at Page's lovely Palm Pet. What did Page call her? Chloe, I think. Bye, bye, Chloe. THE ENDWhen visiting Barnes and Noble, ask for: Jock Sturges' Radiant Identities and David Hamilton's The Age of Innocence. Support art! Join the world's greatest organization! Send $35.00 to The North American Man/Boy Love Association for a one-year membership. NAMBLA, P.O. Box 174, Midtown Station, New York, NY 10018. Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is copyright 1998 and a trademark of Andrew Roller. Need a book? http://www.amazon.com

Chapter Twenty

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/9749.txt

Corn53

Snowed in With Emily

"No! And that's final," Mom continued in a raised voice. "It's snowing already, and Barb and I are taking my car." Barb got divorced about 6 months ago. She and Mom started going to a singles dance every Friday night since then. Usually, I was allowed to use Mom's car, and they went in Barb's van. "Besides, you've only had your license for two months. And since it's snowing, I told her to bring Emily just in case we get snowed in. Barb is picking up pizza on her way over." "Great! Not only can't I go out, I have to babysit a stupid kid. Just great!" I said, including this new information in my ongoing complaint. "Stop. It's no use arguing. Stop feeling sorry for yourself and make the best of it. Maybe you could play checkers or some of our other games." "Great," I said, still sulking. Later... "Here they are. Go help them bring in the pizza and snacks." Barb looked sexy tonight. We had been neighbors ever since I could remember. We moved out to the suburbs two years ago, but she and Mom remained best friends. I had called her by her first name since learning to talk. Barb had lost about 20 pounds right after her divorce. Even with her boots on over her shoes, I still liked her black stockings that showed between her coat and boots. When she sat down a bag of snacks on the counter, her coat opened enough to reveal a short skirt. "Whoa! Barb," I was thinking, "You look sharp tonight." But I only said, "You look nice tonight, Barb." Then, as I hoped, she took off her coat and modeled her new outfit. Although not well endowed, her tighter clothes showed off her new, slimmer figure. I could see her nipples raise to little bumps through her sheer bra and blouse as she turned around in front of me, as if she liked being looked at. "You're getting so big, Bobby. Sorry we have to take your car tonight," meaning Mom's car, which I usually used on the weekends. "And thanks for keeping an eye on Emily for me." Barb never teased me about being small for my age. Emily came in as Barb was turning. She looked embarrassed by her mother's 'modeling.' Taking off her coat and stamping the snow off her gym shoes, pulling off the knit cap and shaking out her pigtails - with ribbons - she said, "Oh, Mother. Bobby doesn't want to check you out." I disagreed but didn't say anything, noticing things about Barb that I never noticed before. "We'd better go, Barbie," said Mom, "It's supposed to start snowing worse. Maybe we shouldn't even go tonight." "Maybe we should go back home, Mom," suggested Emily hopefully. "I don't want to stay here." "That's enough, young lady. You're not going back home just so you can run over to Jackie's house. And just because you're almost 13 doesn't mean you can't still get a spanking. Do you want a spanking right now, in front of Bobby?" I could tell Barb had had enough of Emily's "lip." "You could both stay here if you don't want to drive tonight, Barb," offered Mom. "No, I just got this outfit. Let's go right now," putting her coat back on, heading for the door. "You kids get along. Don't forget, you used to take baths together. Bobby, Emily will be 13 next week. See if she will tell you what she wants. I can't get any suggestions out of her." And they hustled out the door, beginning to yak before it was closed. Emily and I looked at each other, both wishing we were somewhere else. But knowing we were 'stuck' here for the evening, I opened the pizza box and said, "I would have liked watching you get a spanking, Em, especially a bare-bottomed spanking," and started to snicker. She fumed a moment longer, then burst out laughing. "Don't eat all of it, you pig!" and came over to the table, kicking off her wet shoes, standing next to me as I sat in the best chair, the one with arms. "Do you still have cable? Mom had ours disconnected." "Your mom was looking sexy tonight." "You pervert. She's your Mom's best friend," confiding, "Sometimes she embarrasses me the way she 'advertises.' It looked like you were really checking her out," as she grabbed her second piece, spilling some on the floor. "Look who's calling who a pig!" I joked, "You're the one slopping food on the floor," and playfully slapped her fanny through her jeans. She gave me a funny look and sat down, "Maybe we should get plates and go see what's on TV. Do you get any movie channels? Friday nights have the scariest movies," then she started joking, "But I won't be scared with a 'big strong boy' like you around," mimicking her mother, "Or am I being too sour castic?" "It's not 'sour-castic' it's 'sarcastic,' and yes, you are. Maybe your mom was right about you needing a spanking. Besides, it's almost your birthday," offering another excuse to spank her. "Thank you for correcting me, Mr. Webster!" continuing to dig, "Aren't we grown up now? In high school, a driver's license... What next? The honor roll?" laughing. "Actually, I did make the honor roll, so Mom would give me the car every weekend. But you can see how long that lasted." Reaching to get plates out of the cupboard, she turned and said, "If we were allowed to cook, I could make cookies - so we won't starve," now joking about the bagful of snacks on the counter. We had never been friends before, but she seemed older tonight, more like another teenager instead of a kid. I never knew she was such a joker. I went over to help her get the plates. As I reached up, she smacked me on the behind! With platefuls of pizza and cans of pop, we headed to the living room. "Mom said we should play checkers, Emily. Doesn't THAT sound like fun?" laughing again. We had never laughed together before, as far as I could remember. My clicking through the channels was beginning to get on her nerves. "Such a 'man,'" she said. "Let me have that." And she tried to grab it from me. We wrestled on the couch for a moment. She was stronger than I expected. I noticed she had on some kind of perfume. Momentarily distracted, she wrenched the controller from my hand and stuffed her hands up under her sweatshirt and doubled over to prevent me from recovering it. We rolled back onto the other end of the big couch, and I pulled her arms out, pinning them to the couch, sitting on top of her, my knees straddling her tummy. She laughed as I looked at her empty hands. "Where did it go, Bobby?" she teased. Looking down in front of me at her baggy sweatshirt, I distinguished 3 bumps, and realized the middle one had to be the controller. She continued laughing at my indecision, twisting and wiggling so I had to hold tight. Not knowing whether I should reach under her sweatshirt to retrieve it, events took care of themselves as she twisted too far over. We fell on the floor, rolling, and the controller fell out. I grabbed it and jumped back into my seat. As if nothing had happened, she stood, shook her pigtails, and asked, "Want another pop?" and headed to the kitchen. "Yes, thanks, Em," now totally discomfited by my former neighbor. I was small for my age, but so was she. Those two brand new bumps on her chest and the lingering aroma of her perfume was having an unexpected effect on me. "Just a kid," I told myself in warning. Emily's strawberry blond hair, ribboned in pigtails, freckles, braces, along with her small stature and baggy sweatshirt all gave her a "little kid" look, but her strength, humor, and the two new 'buds' told me she was more grown than I first thought. She came bouncing back into the room, jumped onto the couch, right beside me. She sat cross-legged, with her bent knee resting over mine. "Here's your pop. What do you want to watch?" and she pulled the comforter off the back of the couch and put it over our laps. I swear I don't know why, but I put my arm around her after popping open my Pepsi. She leaned against me and suggested, "Let's watch a scary movie." "Sure, Emily. I'll protect you," continuing our joke. The cable movie station was showing previews of tonight's movies. ABDUCTED HIGH SCHOOL WITCH was on next, followed by BARBIE'S FIRST TIME. We laughed at the title and preview, both thinking of her mom all dressed up and going to the single's dance. We didn't even have to say anything.The preview showed a close-up of a man's hand unsnapping a lady's bra and pulling her down - off camera. That really cracked us up. We just looked at each other and began laughing so hard we almost cried. As the 'ABDUCTED WITCH' movie started, she snuggled in closer. It felt great. Snuggled there, the smell of pizza with an overtone of her perfume, her pigtail tickling my neck. We began a rambling, disjointed conversation, just kind of seeing the movie, but not paying much attention. "Aren't grown-ups a riot?" she asked. "My god. You'd think they were going to a prom or something. Mom took over an hour to get ready. And you should see some of her new underwear!" "I wish I could," only partly joking. "Mom got some new undies after she got divorced five years ago. No, make that six years ago. I had just turned 10." "Why, Bobby, have you been looking at your own mom's underwear? You ARE a pervert!" she said, laughing. She poked me in the ribs a few times. "I saw how you looked at my mom's tits." Embarrassed, she was right. When she stopped poking my ribs, she put her other hand on my leg. "Cat got your tongue?" she asked, noting my silence. "Hey, I don't look at my mom's underwear, OK? I just noticed it in the laundry when I brought my clothes down. That's all," I said, feeling a need to explain. "Oh, Bobby. You're funny. Are you blushing?" She looked right into my face, which made me blush even more, of course. Her left hand was still resting on my leg, and when she looked in my face, she reached her right hand over to the middle of my chest. Her blue eyes struck me. Another thing I had never noticed. Emily suddenly seemed like a different person. She looked back at the TV as a woman screamed, tied to a wall, arms and legs spread. As we watched the scene, still not listening to the dialog, her fingers slipped between the buttons on my plaid shirt, touching my bare skin. "Maybe this will be a scary movie," she said, snuggling even closer to me. The pop was getting to us. I really needed to go to the bathroom but didn't want to get up. I think she felt the same way. My arm was getting stiff, too. Finally, I pinched her on the side and said, "I got to take a whiz," and got up. "I'll put the pizza away," she said as she headed back to the kitchen, adding "and I got to whiz, too!" teasing me on my archaic choice of words. When I came back downstairs, she was already on the couch in the same spot. Her sweatshirt was over the back of the reclining chair! Looking from her sweatshirt back to her, I saw the straps of her white T-shirt above the comforter. She pulled the blanket aside and said, "Come on, they're getting to a good part, where they light candles all around her and strap her to a table. And wait till you see what she's wearing, Bobby," patting the spot on the couch for me to sit. I looked back at her sweatshirt. "I was getting too hot in that thing under our blanket. Come on, I'm getting cold." Her 'buds' were more prominent now, with just the tight T-shirt with the shoulder straps. It was obvious that she wasn't wearing a bra. Her golf ball-sized tits pushed straight out. Sitting down, I suggested, "Why don't I rub your back while we watch TV and then you can rub mine. OK?" "Sure, Bobby. Hurry under here. I'm getting cold! How should I sit?" as I sat down beside her. "Scoot over. Then you can lay across my lap, Em." We slid down about a foot, and she laid across my lap. She pulled the throw pillow down and put her head and shoulders on it. The blanket was covering her except for her head. Her back was in the middle of my lap as I began massaging outside her T-shirt. I could hardly detect those two tiny 'buds' pressing against my left leg, but just knowing they were there was getting me stiff. "Lift up a minute, Em." I adjusted my pants. Surprisingly, the observant Emily didn't comment, but just let me adjust myself. A quiet chuckle as she settled back, enjoying the back rub. "Want your spankings now, Emily?" I said, patting her fanny as she laid across my lap. "Let's see, you'll be 13, right?" and slapped her a little harder to see what she would do. "I could hardly feel that through these jeans, Bobby. Besides, I thought you were just going to rub my back." Resting my hand on her firm fanny through those jeans was making me even stiffer. I decided to try a harder spank. Moving the cover, I gave her a harder one. SMACK! "Ow!" SMACK! "If you want your back rub, you have to let me spank you first." "Ow! Was that two or three, Bobby?" "Only the first one. The others were just warm-ups." SMACK, SMACK! "Ouch! You'd better give me a good back rub when you're done, that's all I can say," she said as she squirmed back and forth. SMACK, SMACK, SMACK! with the third one being the hardest. She didn't say anything but continued to squirm. She was trying not to say anything, so I challenged her, "I bet I can make you say 'ouch' on the next ones." "No, you can't," she said, accepting my dare. I moved our blanket completely off her rear end and gave her two more hard ones. She squirmed and wiggled, bending her knees so her feet would block my swing, but she didn't say anything. "Keep your feet down, Em, or else I might have to start over." "That's not fair, Bobby. I shouldn't even let you spank me. It better be a good back rub." "Tell you what, Emily. If you pull your jeans down so I can spank you on your panties, I won't spank so hard." I rubbed her fanny lightly while she was deciding. "Well, OK. But they better be lots softer." Then she knelt up, unsnapped her jeans, pulled down the zipper, and pushed them down towards her knees. Her white cotton panties had little flowers all over them. They fit snugly. She laid back across my lap, and I put my hand on her bottom, sliding the material around against her skin. "Not so hard, remember." "OK. How's this?" as I smacked her much softer, almost a pat. She still squirmed each time I spanked her. As she squirmed, I put my hand on her thigh and parted her legs. After each remaining spank, I parted them a little farther, finally reaching the limit of her bunched-up jeans. My timing was irregular so she wouldn't know when the next one was coming. I pulled the cover back over her when I finished, hoping she would leave her jeans down while I rubbed her back. I immediately started massaging, and to my relief, she didn't make a move to pull up her pants. "Have you seen this movie before?" knowing she had. "What happens next?" We watched in silence as the "witch" was led into the stone chamber, hands tied behind her, a chain attached to her studded, leather collar. She was to be punished for casting spells. The high school witch was almost naked, but they never showed a complete front shot. My hands were massaging under her T-shirt now, on her back and sides, sometimes sliding a finger under the edge of her panties around the top and sometimes around the bottom edge. I even rubbed her armpits almost to her chest, glancing along the edge of her breasts. No objections so far. I ventured to rub her fanny and the backs of her legs and even the insides of her thighs. As my fingers 'accidentally' touched her panties between her legs, I noticed they felt moist. She still squirmed sometimes, even though I wasn't spanking. We both jumped at the sound of the phone. Neither of us wanting to move or break our own "spell." Mom and Barb would not be home for another two hours. Who could be calling? "Are you two OK?" asked Mom's voice. "We're fine. Just watching TV. We cleaned up the pizza already," thinking that was why she called. "Get Emily on the other phone, Bobby." "Hi, Bev," said Emily from the kitchen phone. She had pulled up her jeans and run to the kitchen phone when I answered the one in the living room. "Kids, it's really getting bad outside. We're going to spend the night here at the Holiday Inn. The radio is saying nobody should be driving." A clicking, then Barb's voice, "Honey, you'll need to find something to sleep in and spend the night at Bev's house. You can find something to wear in one of her drawers or maybe use one of Bobby's shirts. You can sleep in Aunt Bev's bed. OK?" Silence. "Like I have a choice. Crap. Will I miss gymnastics practice tomorrow?" Emily finally replied. "Honey, gymnastics will probably be cancelled. Everything's getting cancelled." "OK, Mom. We'll be fine. Did you meet a guy or something?" "Don't get smart. We're snowed in. You two should be fine there. We'll call in the morning. And I meant it about not being too old for a spanking, young lady." Then to me, "Has she been helping, Bobby?" "Well, yes. She cleaned up the pizza leftovers and put them in the fridge. We're just watching TV," coming to Emily's defense. "We might play Checkers." "Well, you kids take care. Find something to sleep in in Bev's dresser, Emily. Good night." After we all hung up, Emily came skipping into the living room laughing. Her laughter blended with the howling, blowing wind outside. "Checkers?" she asked, giggling. "What should we do next?" different possibilities spinning in our heads? "It's your turn to rub my back. Or should I give you more spankings first? Or maybe we should find you a nightie. We could make some popcorn and watch the late, late movies." "I want to see the choice of nighties first," she decided. She was pulling off her socks as we bounded up the stairs. "Wait," I said as we entered Mom's room. "I get to pick it out, OK?" As she stopped to consider, I noticed her 'buds' looked even bigger when she was standing up straight.When she noticed me looking at her chest, she didn't try to slouch or hide them. She just smiled at me and let me look. And as I continued to look, with her tacit permission, her nipples poked forward, changing shape before my eyes, like BBs on golf balls. "Then I get to pick out something for you to sleep in," her words not reaching me right away. "What?" "If you get to pick out what I have to wear, then I get to pick out what you have to wear. That's only fair." "I don't know," I finally said. "Then maybe I'll just wear my sweatshirt," as she opened mom's jewelry drawer - her first random choice. We looked at the assortment of jewelry. The end of a flashlight covered by a cloth box struck my eye. "What's this flashlight doing here?" as I pulled out a white, plastic, pointed flashlight. "Where's the bulb?" Emily doubled over with laughter. She couldn't talk. Tears formed in her eyes again. "Oh, Bobby. I don't believe you!" still laughing. "Don't you know what this is?" I had never seen it before. "We keep the other flashlights in the kitchen drawer by the garage." "Sit down on the chair a minute," leading me to the wooden chair next to mom's bed. "Close your eyes while I 'flash' this on you, 'Big Boy'. I'll show you how it works. Jackie's mom has one of these. We play with it sometimes when she's gone." I sat there expecting to see light through my closed eyelids. Instead I heard a buzzing noise. Suddenly I felt her push something against my chest through my flannel shirt. It tickled. She touched it against my nipple and I pulled away, opening my eyes. I took it from her hand and felt it. It was vibrating like an electric sander in shop class. Looking closer, turning it this way and that, I finally asked, "What's it for?" "It's a vibrator!" "And?" looking back at her, still not getting the joke. "What does it do?" "Women use them, Bobby. They put this against themselves and tickle, like giving yourself a massage." she was rubbing it on her shoulders and tummy, down to her panties. "Didn't you ever hear of a vibrator? Jackie's Mom has one. We played with it once when she wasn't home. I don't know exactly how they work. Maybe we could play with it." Feeling my skin turn color, I said, "Like a sex thing? But why would old people use them? Mom is almost 40. She wouldn't use one, would she? Is that what makes the blood come out?" "Bobby, I don't want to be 'sarcastic', but you need to learn a few things. Let's play with this for my massage. It might feel good on my back." Then twisting off the vibrator, she looked into the next drawer. "We can talk more about this later, but I want to see my choices now." We both noticed with relief how messy her underwear and nightie drawers were. We could get everything out and just throw stuff back in and she wouldn't know if we had opened it or not. There were panties of every color. Some silky, some just strings with a cloth patch, some with ruffles, and some stained, cotton 'everyday' panties. There was the same variety in the nightie drawer. Some you could see right through. Instantly turned on, just seeing her hand clearly through the pink nightgown she was holding up, I tentatively said, "Try that one." Bargaining again, she replied, "Maybe I will. But only if you agree to wear what I tell you." Passion overcoming judgment, I said, "Sure." Then in a dry, raspy voice, "Can I stay here and watch you try it on?" "You stay here. I'll go in the bathroom and try it on. I MIGHT come out and model it for you, since you seemed to like watching my mom model her clothes," chiding me again. I couldn't speak. Sat on the chair, waiting, mind locked up without words. Dick hard as a rock, but not daring to 'adjust' myself through my jeans for fear of shooting right now. The next minute seemed like 10. She walked out. Beauty. No jeans. No T-shirt. Only her flowered panties under the nightie. I could see everything clearly. Her pink nipples. She seemed uncommonly meek for a change. Not talking. Looking down, as if waiting for my approval. "You look great, Em. I didn't know you were so grown-up, but those panties don't match. Either take the panties off or find some that go with it." She pulled her panties down and stood up, kicking them off. I could see the beginnings of a small blond bush over her still bare lips. I walked to her and took her hand. "We can try some more outfits on later. Let's go back downstairs and I'll rub your back some more, watch TV a little bit. Ummm, for some reason, I feel kind of nervous," as I led her downstairs. She was strangely quiet, then, half way down she blurted, "Just your T-shirt and underwear for now," telling me what to wear while I rubbed her back. Without talking we assumed the same positions we were in before the phone call. Me in my underwear and T-shirt, she in mom's nightie, the blanket over us. I don't think either of us heard a word as the witch ceremony continued. Evidently she had escaped somehow and been caught again. Now the high school witch had leg irons, handcuffs, and the leather collar with a chain leash. It was an erotic scene, but almost comical - 20 grown men and women, all dressed up, with a naked high school girl in chains. As the TV characters staked her out on the concrete floor - legs and arms stretched out with chains, my hands were feeling something much softer. We were both aware that I wasn't rubbing her back anymore. She had scooted forward so her buns were centered on my lap. My left hand was now under her nightie 'massaging' her firm breasts which were suspended between my leg and her pillow. My right hand was on her fanny, thighs, and touching the now-moist lips. Her legs spread a little farther apart every minute or two. I could feel the peach fuzz on her lips as my fingers stroked up and down her lips, not yet daring to 'enter.' I had even scratched the tiny blond bush on her mound like I was scratching our old Cocker Spaniel - kind of a scratch-pull-rub motion. Ever curious, and now knowing Emily as a source of honest information, I asked, "Why is your pussy so wet, Emily?" Then, "May I put my finger in it?" "Bobby, It gets THAT way when I feel THIS way. I'm not sure how to explain it exactly, but it's like I have an itch inside and want you to scratch it for me. My tummy is quivering with excitement. It means you're really turning me on. And, Yes! Please put your finger in me, Bobby. I've been hoping you would. Just go slow, OK?" "Like this?" as my finger slipped in slowly... all the way. "Ohhhhh, yes, just like that."

Part 1

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/9509.txt

The SandMan

Zero G (Mystery)

"They're shutting down the engines tonight," Trish said as she stared at the beautiful star-studded sky through the cabin porthole. Steve walked up behind her, slipping an arm around her waist and kissing her lightly on the neck. "Nice. I've always wanted to find out what sex in zero-G would be like." She laughed, turning around and planting a full wet kiss on his lips. "I thought you old guys weren't supposed to be interested in sex all the time." "Most old guys aren't traveling with a beautiful twenty-year-old coed," Steve laughed, running an appreciative hand around her butt. "And, we old guys just love to be reminded we're old." She flushed a deep scarlet red. "Well, you are twice my age." "That I am," Steve said, pulling away. "Flatter me again by telling me why I was the lucky man you picked as your companion for this journey." "I would have picked you anyway," she protested. "Honestly!" "And the fact that the others were not already married or gay had nothing at all to do with it?" Steve asked slyly. She grinned evilly. "That only sped up the selection process. I had this nice idea of you sneaking up behind me while we discussed the fun we're going to have tonight. How did we get on this subject?" Steve laughed. "You called me old." "Oh." She pulled down the zipper of her jumpsuit. "Well, I guess now is as good a time as any for you to prove how young you still are." Steve's eyebrows arched appreciatively as she stepped out of the jumpsuit and let it fall slowly to the floor. Dinner was served early that evening and was by far the most lavish feast yet prepared on the journey. There was a very good reason for both the lavishness and the early meal. Since their departure from Earth, the ship's engines had been pushing the gargantuan, modified asteroid through space. This thrust simulated almost half of Earth's regular gravity. Now, though, the Isthmus was preparing to drift for two weeks before she would begin her turn and resume a braking thrust, slowing her down as she neared Mars. For those two weeks they would be adrift, there would be almost no gravity at all. Though the Isthmus was a modified asteroid, the gravity was so feeble that should someone drop a pen, the time between release and landing could be measured in days rather than seconds. The meal was a veritable feast because it would be the last meal they would have for the next two weeks that would not come from a squeeze tube or a ration pack. The Isthmus was only nominally a passenger liner. Her primary purpose was to carry cargo between Earth and Mars, and this she had been doing now for almost half a century. Most people selected the instantaneous magic of teleporting over the eight-week space voyage, but enough people were still leery enough of teleporting for the great space freighters to make some room for paying passengers. Steve and Trish had been invited to dine at the captain's table this evening. On anything other than a space voyage, this would have been an honor. However, considering there were only twelve passengers aboard, every passenger would dine at the Captain's table eventually. Still, it was Steve's first time at the table, and from his vantage point, he was able to get a good look at his fellow travelers. As he gazed around the room, he realized for the first time that he had been so infatuated with Trish that he had made no effort at all to get to know any of these people. "Is this everyone aboard?" Steve asked the captain. "Indeed it is, Mr. Whiley. Twelve passengers, including yourself and the fair lady, three crewmen, and six droids," the captain answered. "I can't believe more people don't travel this way," Trish said. "It's terribly romantic." Steve coughed. "Romance is one way to pass the time, I suppose," the captain admitted. "Most people don't have the patience for an eight-week journey. Even more people don't have the fortitude to withstand two weeks without gravity. Our sister ship, the Carpathia, sees a great deal more passenger traffic than we do, since they put on the rotating wheel. Centrifugal force substitutes for gravity when the ship goes adrift." "Why do we have to drift anyway?" Steve asked, suddenly interested. "Seems it would be faster to just accelerate to the halfway point, then turn and decelerate." "Well, there's a number of factors really. Fuel concern is one. But really, the main reason is the faster we go, the more dangerous an impact is to us. Of course, we have several tons of rock and steel between us, but the faster we go, the less that will serve to protect us." Noticing their worried faces, "Oh, don't be too concerned. It's precautionary only. Space really is quite empty. In my thirty years aboard the Isthmus, we've never hit anything larger than a baseball, and all that did was create another crater on the surface, no harm done." "The technology is absolutely wonderful," Trish commented. "It has been a very pleasant journey so far." The captain coughed. "Well, technology keeps marching forward. If one of our passengers has his way, ships such as these will no longer be needed." "Really?" Steve asked. The captain inclined his head. "Yes."The distinguished-looking man with the goatee over there is a certain Doctor Ernest Vance, a Nobel Prize winner by all accounts. Apparently, he travels to Mars to test what he calls a wormhole between the Moon and Mars. He insists that with a wormhole, you can just step through a hole in space on the Moon and step out on Mars. "You can do that with a Teleport," Steve said, frowning slightly. "Not my preferred way to travel." "No, no. Teleport works by destroying you one place and re-creating you somewhere else. The good Doctor explains his wormhole as a fold in space, joining two distant points. Nothing is destroyed -- nothing created. Apparently, it is as simple as walking through a door and finding yourself millions upon millions of miles away." "Well, that is interesting!" Steve confessed. The captain nodded. "That it is. If it works, it will likely put me out of a job in a few years, but I'm near enough to retirement anyway. If it works, it will put the very stars within our reach." Steve nodded, and Trish beamed. "An astronomer's dream," she sighed. "Is that what you are studying?" The captain asked. "Forgive me if I intrude. The manifest says you are traveling to continue your studies at Molesworth University on Mars." "That is exactly what I'm majoring in. I'm returning to start my Junior year, on a full scholarship!" Trish bubbled. "Very impressive. It's not often Martian universities extend scholarships to Terrans; you must be an exceptionally talented lady." "I had excellent scholastic scores, it's true. But I think the primary motivation was to introduce some cultural diversity to the university. The younger Martians these days apparently forget all too easily that there are billions of their fellow men in their same cosmic neighborhood. And I'll admit they're a bit different than the people back home." The captain nodded. "That they are. They still have to work very hard to keep the place livable. The lack of luxuries and infrastructure tend to make them a very grim and determined people." As dessert ended, the captain rose and addressed the gathered complement. "Good people, in an hour, we will shut down the engines. If you would be so kind as to return straight away to your cabins and secure yourselves when prompted, we should have no problems. Those of you who have difficulties with micro-gravity should take one of the pills you'll find in your bathrooms. Please remember, extended periods of micro-gravity present some difficulties, and on behalf of the entire crew, I remind you we are here to alleviate those difficulties should they arise." *** -- Zero G -- *** Steve strapped himself into the easy chair as the time neared. Trish walked over and settled into his lap, snuggling in comfortably. When the captain's voice started counting down the seconds over the speaker, Steve wrapped his arms around her. When the countdown reached zero, the ever-present rumbling of the ship ceased. The quiet that followed was profound. "Let go," Trish said eagerly. Steve complied, and she pushed away gently, drifting lazily towards the ceiling. "I'm flying!" She squealed in delight. "I'm falling!" Steve squealed back! And indeed, though he was securely strapped to the comfortable chair, every sense in his body told him he was falling. Trish turned gracefully in mid-air and came to rest standing on the ceiling, looking down at Steve. "You'll get used to it quickly, I promise. Do you need a pill?" "No. I've taken this trip before. You're right, I'll get used to it, but it will take a few minutes." "You never told me why you were going to Mars," Trish said as she pushed off the ceiling, flying fast towards one of the walls. Steve smiled as he watched her carefree acrobatics. "My sister is getting married. Since I'm the only family she's got left, it falls to me to give her away." Suddenly, he laughed. Trish, noticing the laughter, grabbed hold of a light stand and pulled herself to a stop. "What's so funny?" "Oh, just recalling something about children, sugar, and bouncing off walls," Steve said, still chuckling. Trish arched an eyebrow dangerously. "Children?" She pulled down the zipper to her jumpsuit and disrobed, tossing it across the room. She was wearing nothing underneath, and Steve could not help but note how wonderfully micro-gravity tended to augment the female form. "Are you calling me a child?" "N-Never!" Steve stammered. She smiled and pushed very lightly off the wall, drifting towards the center of the room, flapping her arms lightly to come to a stop in the dead center. "Are you going to join me?" She asked, her voice becoming sultry and full of promise. "Right away!" Steve answered eagerly, fumbling at the straps in the chair. In his haste, he pushed away from the chair a little too hard and went speeding towards the ceiling, something he didn't notice as he was searching for his zipper, at least until he bumped his head. "Offf!" he grunted as he rubbed his injured cranium. Trish giggled. "Slow and steady is the rule in sex and zero G, Steve me boy." Finally, Steve managed to discard his jumpsuit and pushed lightly off the ceiling, drifting over towards Trish. Her smile grew larger as he drifted closer. When they were close enough, she wrapped her arms around him and drew him close for a lingering kiss. When his engorged cock moved from pressing against her waist to probing for her entrance, she pulled back. "Trust me, Steve. The only real way to have sex in space is orally." She said. "And since men tend to lose interest..." She let the thought trail off. Steve understood the latter full well, though it would be the next day before he understood the former. He smiled and pushed against her, lowering himself between her legs. As they floated, weightless, he began to probe her with his tongue, with a confidence none of Trish's peers had yet mastered. Trish arched her back and neck, closing her eyes as she groaned. "I forgot how wonderful this is," she gasped between panting breaths. Steve's deft tongue probed her deeply before moving up to run playful circles around her clitoris. As her gasps became more pronounced, more urgent, he began to suck her, grinding his lips to add additional sensations. When her gasps turned into shrieks of "Yes!" he found her hands wrapped fully around the back of his head, pulling him into her. "Wonderful!" Trish groaned. "That was wonderful! You could do that to me all night long." Steve smiled and favored her with another orgasm. After she had recovered from the second, Trish pushed away slightly. "Ready to go to heaven, Steve?" "I hope you mean figuratively, darling," Steve chuckled. Trish smiled knowingly. "You'll have to decide that for yourself. Close your eyes." Steve complied. "You're drifting. Nothing exists but this." She wrapped her mouth around his erect cock, and then one hand around his buttocks. Steve groaned. "This is sooo weird," Steve moaned. "Hush," Trish commanded. "It gets better." Then she returned her mouth around his cock and began to bob her head up and down. The only sensations that existed for Steve were her warm, moist mouth around his excited cock and her light touch on his ass, which she used to keep contact with him. Young though she was, she brought him to the threshold of orgasm with a deft, practiced efficiency and then held him there, until the only thing that existed for him was the waves of pleasure springing forth from his groin. It was like floating in a ball of pure pleasure. Finally, she sped up just enough to throw him over the edge, and the orgasm was blinding in its intensity. "Wow," Steve said, more than a little awed as Trish floated up to snuggle against him. "Told you," Trish smiled as she brushed away some hair that had fallen near his eye. "That you did. Too bad it's only two weeks," Steve smiled. "Too bad indeed," Trish agreed. *** -- Murder! Murder most foul! -- *** The next day was spent in an orgy of sex play, exploring the possibilities that zero G provided. Trish was indeed right. Copulation was so difficult it wasn't worth doing. They were as apt to send each other flying around the room as anything, and after twice flying uncontrollably into a wall or floor, they stuck to oral sex. They were floating in the middle of the room that evening when the doorbell chimed. Steve sighed and pushed away from Trish, floating over toward his jumpsuit. The doorbell chimed again as he was getting dressed. As he pulled up his zipper, he noted that Trish had already dressed. Now, however, he had a small problem as he was floating in mid-air. The doorbell chimed yet again as he began flapping his arms, trying to get to a nearby wall. Trish laughed, delighted at his comedy, and pushed off the floor towards him, pushing him into a wall. "Thanks!" Steve said sheepishly as he pushed himself onto the floor, the soles of his suit gripping the floor, providing some traction. The doorbell was chiming a fourth time as he opened it to find the Purser. She was a smallish Japanese girl, barely older than Trish. "What can I do for you, Miko?" "The Captain has asked me to bring you to Doctor Vance's quarters. There has been a murder," her eyes flitted worriedly towards Trish and then back to Steve. "Doctor Vance?" Steve asked. Miko nodded her head. Trish had moved up behind Steve and was listening intently. "The Captain wishes to keep this as quiet as possible for now," Miko said pointedly to Trish. "He wishes you to come to the Doctor's cabin," she said to Steve. "Of course. Let me get my notebook first," Steve said. "Can I tag along, Steve?" Trish asked as she followed him over to the desk. Steve frowned. "You'd better not," he said cautiously. "It won't be pretty. It never is." "Please?" She said, batting her lashes. "Let me be your Doctor Watson." Steve sighed."You don't play fair at all." "I know." She giggled. "I'm terrible, aren't I?" Steve sighed again. "OK, but unless we're alone, be as quiet as a mouse. Can you do that?" She snapped to attention and gave him a salute. "Aye-aye, Captain." She broke into a broad grin. "I promise I'll be your perfect, devoted servant." Steve pulled the notebook computer from his desk. "OK," he said as he tossed the computer toward her. "You can set this up to record the crime scene." She nodded and followed him back to the door where the Purser was waiting anxiously. She frowned when she saw Trish was going to accompany them. "The Captain will not be pleased to see Ms. Carter." Steve shrugged. "I've selected her as my assistant. Since we've been inseparable for the last few days, right now she is the only person aboard this ship I'm sure did not commit the murder, besides myself." "As you say, Mr. Whiley," Miko said as she led them down the wide hallway towards the Doctor's Cabin. As they entered the room, Steve's eyes were immediately drawn to the corpse seated in the easy chair. Doctor Vance appeared to have been around fifty and had the gray hairs that went with that age, giving him a distinguished look. He had strapped himself into the chair and tucked the folds of the chair by his side was a paperback novel. His tan tunic was soaked in red, still wet blood around his chest. The Captain and Mrs. Vance were standing by the bed, talking in hushed tones as they entered. Noticing their arrival, the Captain turned and walked over to them, a grim expression on his face. "Thank you for coming, Mr. Whiley. As you can see, we have need of your services." "It does appear we will all be going down in the history books," Steve said. "There's never been a murder in space before." "I'm hoping you can allow us to say there's never been an unsolved murder in space before we reach Mars," the Captain said. Steve nodded. Then, noticing the Captain's gaze on Trish, said, "Ms. Carter will be acting as my assistant." The Captain frowned. "Before I sent for you, I checked your credentials, Mr. Whiley: former policeman, former FBI agent, former CIA agent, and a distinguished career as a private investigator. Your references are unassailable. You are the only person other than myself I do not suspect at the present." "Then, since Ms. Carter and I have been together since we started drifting, she is cleared by association to my credentials," Steve said. "Of course," the Captain admitted. "Let's begin with how the body was found," Steve suggested. The Captain nodded. "Miko, please tell Mr. Whiley what you know." "At six-thirty, ship's time, the call light for this room began to flash. This is a non-urgent call; it usually means the passenger simply wants the room straightened up. If it's urgent, they'll call voice. I had nothing pressing at the moment, so I answered the call straight away. When I got to the door, there was no answer. This is not unusual. Some passengers press the call button before they leave so they return to a straightened cabin. After a minute, I opened the door and found Doctor Vance as you see him now." Steve checked his watch, noting the current time of seven-fifteen. "I take it you then went straight to the Captain?" "Yes," Miko replied. "And I came down to see for myself," the Captain said. "I sent Miko to track down Mrs. Vance and set Lieutenant Alexander to guard the room. I then reported the crime to my superiors. After we had investigated your credentials, it was decided to allow you to head the investigation." Steve nodded. "And when was he last seen alive?" "At six," Mrs. Vance said. "I left here at six o'clock." "Well, that's a nice narrow time frame," Steve said as he walked over to the body. "Did anyone else see Mr. Vance alive around that time?" Miko nodded her head. "Mr. Vance called me at two minutes after six and requested the temperature in his cabin be lowered. It is logged in my workstation." He paused a moment in front of the lifeless form and turned. Behind him on the wall was an oblong circle of splattered blood. He studied it a moment. "Odd," he said. "He was obviously stabbed. When the killer removed the knife, it must have sent the blood flying. Notice the clean area in the circle? Almost like an eclipse. I'd be willing to bet some of the blood landed on the killer's clothing." "I didn't notice that," the Captain said. "But now that you mention it, it is quite obvious." "You have spare tunics on board?" Steve asked. "Yes," the Captain said. "Enough to replace everyone's current wardrobe?" "I believe so." "I think the first thing we should do is gather everyone's jumpsuits. Label each one. If we haven't found the killer by the time we reach Mars, a DNA sweep should find which tunic was involved with the murder." The Captain's face brightened considerably. "An excellent idea. Miko, fetch Lieutenant Alexander and see to it at once. Be very meticulous with your notes." "While you're at it, be on the lookout for a largish knife," Steve added. "If you find one, don't touch it, but send for me at once." The Captain nodded his agreement. Miko bowed slightly and left. Steve turned his attention back to the corpse, letting his eyes move slowly up from the man's feet, probing every millimeter of the body. When his eyes fell to the clenched left hand, Steve paused and moved in closer. Between the fingers were a few strands of red hair. "Captain, I think you should find Mrs. Vance another cabin. Being forced to occupy this one would no doubt prove distressful to her." "Of course! I wasn't thinking," the Captain apologized. "Please, Mrs. Vance, if you would accompany me." "Y-Yes," Mrs. Vance stammered. After they had left, Trish walked over and knelt beside Steve. "What is it? What did you find?" Steve took the man's hand and turned it over, palm up, forcing the fingers open to reveal the red hair between the fingers. "Red hair," Steve said. "There's only one red-headed person on board!" Trish said excitedly. "Gosh, this is easy!" Steve pulled out a handkerchief and snatched a floating coin out of the air. "And I'll wager the red-haired man has been to India. This is an Indian Paisa. Look at the placement of the wound. That had to go through his ribs; whoever did this was very strong. Notice also only one entry point. He was stabbed only once." "Well, I guess now you just tell the Captain to arrest the red-haired man, and it's all done with." "Think a moment, Trish. We're in space. There's only fifteen people here. No one can enter. No one can leave. What kind of murder happens in such a situation?" Trish frowned. "A crime of passion?" "Yes, that is one possibility. There's another." "A premeditated murder? But that's silly." "Not if you plan to make it look like someone else did the murder," Steve said. "Examine the hairs in the hand carefully." Trish leaned forward and stared. "They're hairs." "Notice the roots, and think," Steve coaxed. Trish's face drew into a concentrating frown. Her eyes suddenly lit up. "The roots are facing the palm! If he had grabbed someone's hair, the roots would have been on the outside, not the inside!" "Good!" Steve said. "You're beginning to think like a detective now. It's possible he may have had some weird grip on the murderer. But I'll wager you that this is a plant. Right now, our red-haired man is on the very bottom of the list of suspects." Trish beamed as Steve explored the corpse further. "This will be a tough case," he said as he examined the body. "We don't have net access out here, and there are none of the traditional tools." He bent over and sniffed at the body's mouth. "Hmmm. Wine." Steve pushed away and started exploring the rest of the room, finding nothing remarkable. "See if you agree with this, Trish. Sometime between six and six-thirty, someone rings the doorbell. Dr. Vance tucks his book into the chair, and the murderer enters. The murderer has brought wine. Doctor Vance drinks some, and shortly thereafter is stabbed. When the murderer withdraws the knife, blood rushes out; some of it splashing on the murderer, the rest hitting against the wall. The murderer then places the red hairs in the victim's hand and leaves behind an Indian Paisa. The killer collects whatever the wine was in and leaves, pressing the attendant call button on the way out." "I don't think I could have pieced it together as easily, but that certainly sounds right," Trish said, impressed. "But why the call button?" "Most likely the murderer felt he or she had a solid alibi for the time in question, since this would serve to fix the time of death. Also, if it is indeed a frame job, it is likely the person being implicated does not have a strong alibi. Still, it is possible that Dr. Vance managed to hit the call button before he lost consciousness and panicked the killer." "So if all the clues are false, how are you going to find the REAL killer?" "Two of the clues aren't false," Steve noted. Trish frowned again. "You've lost me." "There are two very real clues right in this room, though they are contradictory. First, there is the fact that it took a great blow to drive the knife through the ribs. That indicates strength, probably a man. The second is the wine. Men don't ordinarily share wine; that would indicate a woman entered the room." "Maybe he shared a drink with his wife before she left," Trish suggested. "Perhaps. But there is no wine in this room. It may be a dead end; we'll know after we find out more about his day." The Captain re-entered. "I've got Mrs. Vance settled. Lieutenant Alexander and Miko are seeing to the cabin searches. I'm afraid we've had to tell everyone there's a murder; no other explanation would serve." Steve nodded. "That's fine.""I'd like to see the passenger manifest tonight, and first thing tomorrow, I'd like to start interviewing everyone on the ship." "Of course. I anticipated as such." The captain withdrew a small pad and handed it to Trish, who started transferring the information. "Have you discovered anything?" Steve nodded. "Red hairs in the victim's hands and an Indian Paisa, but I believe them to be plants to frame someone else." The Captain frowned. "Red hair, that would be Jase Hobkins. Are you so sure it's a frame-up?" "It's possible. In any case, it's best to be thorough, especially when history will be watching us." The Captain's head snapped back, stung by the reminder. He took the pad back from Trish when she offered it to him. "Who would you like to interview first tomorrow?" "I'll start with Mrs. Vance. I'll schedule the rest after I've had the chance to study the passenger manifests." "Very good. The home office has agencies all over the globe gathering more detailed information on our passengers, but it will no doubt take several days to compile." "A very challenging case," Steve said. "Do you require anything else?" The captain asked. Steve thought a moment. "Do your computers log the airlocks?" "No. They are completely independent systems. Safety reasons and all," the captain said. "If I were a murderer and wished to dispose of evidence on a space ship, I would send it out the nearest airlock," Steve said. The Captain's face brightened for the first time that evening. "Then the killer has made a mistake!" "Oh?" "Yes! We're drifting right now, and feeble though it is, the ship does have gravity. There would be just enough atmosphere left in an airlock to send something into space, but it would most likely be in orbit around us at least until we fire the engines again." "Do you think you can find it, assuming of course that is how the evidence was disposed of?" The Captain frowned again. "I don't know. But I shall most certainly set the task to Lieutenant Alexander when he finishes the room searches." "Then I guess there's nothing further to do until morning," Steve said. *** -- A brief Interlude -- *** Steve sat in the easy chair of his room, studying the list Trish had downloaded. Trish was curled in his lap, studying the manifest as well. Barr, Jeff S. M - USA - Detroit, MI - 48 - Engineer (Teleport). Purpose: Pleasure - Room #3 Brown, Tanner B. M - EU - Germany, Bonn - 33 - Journalist (Science Times) Purpose: Business - Room #15 Carter, Trish M. F - USA - Vancouver, BC - 20 - Student (Molesworth) Purpose: Business - Room #8 Davis, Myrial K. F - EU - England, Westminster - 38 - Homemaker. Purpose: Pleasure - Room #5 Davis, Paul C. M - EU, England, Westminster - 43 - Director, NexCor. Purpose: Pleasure - Room #5 Dawson, Janet C. F - USA - San Francisco, CA - 29 - None. Purpose: Pleasure - Room #9 Gold, Barry J. M - USA - San Francisco, CA - 28 - Doctoral Candidate (Harvard) Purpose: Business - Room #19 Hobkins, Jase D. M - USA - Miami, FL - 44 - Research Assistant. Purpose: Business - Room #18 Kneed, Kathy T. F - EU - England, Westminster - 28 - Secretary. Purpose: Business - Room #6 Vance, Ernest T. Dr. M - Quebec - Montreal - 51 - Researcher (Harvard) Purpose: Business - Room #20 Vance, Grace L. F - Quebec - Montreal - 47 - Homemaker. Purpose: Pleasure - Room #20 Whiley, Steve A. M - USA - Los Angeles, CA - 40 - Private Investigator. Purpose: Pleasure - Room #7 "Not much here," Trish said. "Quite a bit, actually," Steve said. "Oh, please!" Trish said incredulously. "Well, let's start with Mr. Barr. It says he travels to Mars for pleasure, but he works for Teleport." "So?" "Do you not suppose Teleport might be interested in a magical wormhole that lets people travel from one point to another?" Trish thought on that. "I guess they would." "Paul Davis works for NexCor, a giant multinational shipping firm. They even run their own space freighters, yet he travels on a competitor's ship with his wife and probably his secretary. Is this suggestive?" "He's also interested in the wormhole!" Trish said, her eyes brightening. "Janet Dawson is probably hitched up with Barry Gold, she's probably the one I saw at their table. Barry Gold is probably working on the project with Doctor Vance." She continued the train of thought. "Tanner Brown is probably covering the story. Jase Hobkins is also working on the project. Kathy Kneed is probably Paul Davis' secretary." She stared at Steve in surprise. "Aside from the crew, we're probably the only people on the ship who aren't here because of the wormhole thingy." Steve smiled. "Very good! You really ought to consider studying law enforcement, you've got a good eye for these things." She gave an exasperated sigh. "Only after you rub my nose in it!" "You learn to look for these things -- how they all connect. It's part of the job description." "Like Mrs. Vance," Trish said confidently. "You noticed," Steve smiled. "She was very calm. She looked disturbed, but not at all like what you'd expect of a wife who just found her husband murdered." "That's not necessarily incriminating," Steve warned. "It could be shock or maybe there wasn't much love in the marriage. I've seen spouses before who were perfectly innocent, yet very happy at their better half's demise." "I think I'll stick to astronomy," Trish said. "I think there's such a thing as knowing your fellow man too well." "That's the hardest thing about being a cop," Steve agreed. "It doesn't take long at all to lose your faith in humanity." She smiled and wiggled her bottom against his crotch. "I think I can restore a little faith if you're in the mood. I know it's terribly perverse and all, but all this has made me horny as hell." "Well, I think something can be arranged," Steve replied slyly. After a half-hour or so, Trish had indeed managed to restore some of Steve's faith. *** -- Interview with the widow -- *** "Good morning, Mrs. Vance," Steve said as the stately woman entered the room Captain Zigler had set up for them. "Please have a seat, although I guess it really isn't necessary." "I'll take the seat, Mr. Whiley," Mrs. Vance said as she walked over to the chair and strapped herself down. "I imagine I'd look pretty silly floating around." "Well, it has its merits," Steve said. He paused a moment and glanced at his notebook. "If you could, please tell me everything that occurred immediately before you left your husband and what you were doing during the time he was -- well, the time of the incident." "I know this is going to sound perfectly horrible," she began, "but yesterday, Ernest found me kissing Jase Hobkins. We've been good friends for many years, but in the last few months, we've also been lovers. Ernest and I argued about it in our room. He was a hard man, Mr. Whiley. He lived for his job, never for me. I was a showpiece, something he dragged out for faculty parties and the reporters. I was as much a part of his wardrobe as his tuxedo. The argument was quite intense, and I fled. I spent the next forty-five minutes with Jase in his room, until Miko found me." "You realize that gives you a strong motive for the murder," Steve asked, surprised at her candor. She nodded. "I do. But it would be a stronger motive if I tried to hide the truth and you found out anyway. I remember reading about you in the papers when you hunted the rose stalker. It was quite sensational at the time. I not only think you're good enough to catch my husband's killer, but I also think you're good enough to find out about the affair. So I save you the effort." "Catching the Rose Stalker was the most difficult case in my career," Steve admitted. "And I do thank you for your candor. If I may ask, where exactly were you and Jase making out?" "In the Gym." "Did anyone else see you?" "I don't know. I mean, I really wasn't paying attention to anything other than Jase." Steve nodded. "Now let us discuss your husband's research." "The wormhole?" Mrs. Vance asked. "Tell me a little about it," Steve prompted. "Well, the first thing you should know is that the wormhole is really Barry Gold's baby. My husband won a Nobel Prize for his theory on gravitational wavelets, but it was Barry who saw the possibility of using the theory to create a wormhole between two points. I thought that what my husband was doing was despicable. We argued about it constantly, but he assured me it was simply how things were done in the academic world." Steve thought on that a moment. "So now we have another suspect." "Oh, Barry? He wouldn't hurt a fly, and he idolized my husband. That's probably why they got along so well." Steve shrugged. "So tell me what the wormhole does." She frowned. "You'll get a better explanation from Barry or Jase." "Humor me." "Well, apparently it's possible to generate some sort of field, and if a similar field is started somewhere else, the space between the two fields sort of bends. When it bends enough, it's like the two fields are right next door to each other, and if you pass something through, it's like passing something through an ordinary doorway, only it appears wherever the second field is." "Have they tried it before?" Steve asked. "On the lunar research facility. It worked flawlessly. We're traveling to Mars to see if distance affects the device. If it worked between the Moon and Mars, we were going to travel to Europa and make one last field test before announcing the discovery and commercializing it." "And when it's commercialized?" Steve asked. "Who shares in the profits?" "Well, the university for one. They get twenty-five percent. My husband, since he led the project, would get fifty percent. The other twenty-five percent would be distributed between the others working on the project as he saw fit." "And now?" Steve asked."Why, I'm not sure. I would suppose Barry would take over the project, based on his work to date and the success of the project so far. No doubt the college would grant his doctorate and allow him to continue." Steve leaned back. "And there was never any contention between Barry and your husband?" "Not that I knew of," Mrs. Vance answered. "Whenever he and Janet visited for dinner, everything was very cordial. He often remarked to me how much he admired my husband's theories on gravity." "Janet is Barry's girlfriend?" Steve asked. "Fiancée," Mrs. Vance corrected. "Barry proposed before we departed. She accepted." "Do you think Janet knows your husband was appropriating Barry's work?" "Maybe. I really don't know." "What are your impressions of Janet?" "Well, she's a nice enough girl, I guess. Young, very pretty, and talkative. Barry seems happy enough with her." "Don't spare anyone's feelings, please, Mrs. Vance." She sighed. "Really, she's a very nice girl. With the differences in our ages, there's just not enough to really form a good friendship." "Do you know a Mr. Paul Davis?" "Only from meeting him on the ship. He's the director of NexCor." "How about a Mr. Tanner Brown?" Mrs. Vance smiled. "He's the Science Times reporter who is covering the wormhole experiments. It's all top secret, of course, but when the announcement is finally made, Mr. Brown will have the full exclusive inside story all ready for print." "So he's been with your party for a while?" "For almost a year now. Science Times considers this the story of the century." Steve nodded. "Do you know a Mr. Jeff Barr?" "Again, only after meeting him on the ship." "Tell me about Jase Hobkins. What he does, what he's like." Despite herself, Mrs. Vance blushed. "Well, he's the lead assistant on the project. He organizes notes, files, sets up equipment, records measurements. A sort of glorified errand boy in a high-tech way. But I think the project would collapse without his organizational skills. As for what he's like, he's a good, kind, honest man." "Did you notice your husband drinking wine before you left?" Mrs. Vance cocked her head at the shift in topics but answered quickly. "No. Ernest rarely drinks alcohol; he prided himself on his thinking and despised anything which affected that." "Thank you, Mrs. Vance. I may have further questions for you later. I ask that you do not discuss our conversation with anyone else." Mrs. Vance rose and walked to the door. Before leaving, she turned and said, "Mr. Whiley, my husband and I had our differences. I may not have loved him anymore, but he was in many ways still my friend. He may have been riding on his past accomplishments, but he was still a most brilliant man, and the universe has precious few truly brilliant men in it. I wish you the best of luck and God speed in finding his killer." After she had left, Steve turned to Trish and asked, "What do you think?" "I think she's telling the truth," Trish said flatly. "I think she was with Jase when her husband was killed. And since you're pretty sure Jase is being framed, that makes her innocent." "On the other hand, she and Jase might have conspired to kill him. They are having an affair, after all. It would be a crime of passion. The clues left behind might be unintentional, or the clues may have been planted deliberately to make it look like an obvious frame." "I'm confused again," Trish admitted. Steve smiled. "So am I. Only twelve more people to interview." Steve pressed the call button and said, "Miko, please ask Jase Hobkins to join us." "Right away, Mr. Whiley. The Captain asked me to inform you that our data links will be going down for the next three days. There seems to be a malfunction in the laser. We can still use Teledata for important communications, however." "Was the Captain able to obtain the passenger biographies before the data link went down?" "No, Mr. Whiley." "Thank you, Miko." "I will send Mr. Hobkins in right away as you requested." She bowed her head slightly, and the picture disappeared. *** -- Interview with Jase Hobkins -- *** The man who entered the room was large and powerful looking. The type of man one would expect to see working at the docks lifting heavy cargo, yet there was a thoughtful expression to his face, and the glimmer of sharp intelligence behind his blue eyes. He made his way easily to the chair and seated himself, gazing at Steve and Trish much as one would gaze at two coiled cobras. Steve looked up from his notes and smiled. "Good morning, Mr. Hobkins. I need to ask you a few questions, some of them may be of a personal nature." He nodded. "I understand." "When was the last time you saw Mr. Vance alive?" "That would have been around five o'clock when he burst in on Grace and me in the Gym." "Did you argue?" "No. He called attention to himself and demanded Grace return with him to his room." "Is this the first time Mr. Vance caught you two together?" "Yes." "Is this the first time you were caught together?" Jase leaned back in his chair and thought. "No. Barry walked in on us two months ago, shortly before we left the moon." "Did anyone else see you together yesterday afternoon?" "I don't think so. I wasn't really paying attention." "When did you next see Mrs. Vance?" "Shortly after six." "Was she upset?" "Yes. She said Mr. Vance had argued with her, that he had threatened her, and he had come close to striking her. She told me she wanted a divorce as soon as we reached Mars." "Are you aware the timing of the divorce would cause significant hardships in the future?" "Yes," Jase replied. "In my opinion, it would have been worth it." "In what capacity did you work for Mr. Vance?" "I organized the project; coordinated the help, took notes, scheduled trials, worked the bureaucracy to obtain permits, moved equipment. You name it, I did it." "Were you satisfied in your job?" "Yes. I found it very rewarding." "Does the wormhole work?" "On the moon at least. It didn't matter if the two ends were right next to each other, or on the other side of the globe. No one had any reason to doubt that it would work between the moon and Mars or the moon and Europa. This trip is just a formality to ensure the research is as complete as we could make it." "Tell me a bit about Tanner Brown." "The reporter? Not much to say. He's always hanging around, asking questions. Nice enough fellow, even if he is gay." "Did you sleep with him?" "I don't swing that way." "What do you know of Paul Davis?" Jase shifted uncomfortably and lowered his gaze. "He's a nice enough fellow. We've had several chats since he's been aboard." "What were the nature of those chats?" "Just general chit-chat; sports, politics, space travel. He plays chess, and so do I. We've gotten together for more than a few games this trip." "Was Mr. Davis interested in your wormhole project?" "Yes. We talked about it in a general manner. Mostly its impact on space exploration." "Have you also talked with Jeff Barr?" "Only hello. We've bumped into each other a few times on board ship." "Were you aware that Dr. Vance was appropriating Barry Gold's work?" "Yes. I didn't approve." "Did Mr. Gold seem uncomfortable with the idea?" "You know, it's odd, but he wasn't. I'd swear the kid practically worshipped the ground Dr. Vance walked on." "Tell me about Janet Dawson?" "She's Barry's fiancée. Pretty and smart to boot. I don't see her very often." "Have you been sleeping with anyone other than Grace Vance?" Jase shifted uncomfortably at the sudden shift in questions and answered, "No." "Are you in the employ of anyone other than the former Doctor Vance?" After a slight pause, he answered, "No." "Do you love Grace?" "Yes." "Do you plan to marry her?" "I haven't thought about it. I think I will, though." "Have you been to India recently?" "Why, as a matter of fact, I have. My brother lives there, and I visited him right before we left." "Thank you, Mr. Hobkins. I may have further questions for you later on." "Anytime," Jase answered as he rose. After he left, Trish turned to Steve and let out a deep breath. "Wow, the tension in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife." Steve nodded thoughtfully. "Jase Hobkins is a man with secrets to hide, Trish." "Do you think he did it?" "I'm not sure. I believe he's capable of it. He has a motive. But there is one thing that saves him at the present?" "What's that?" "I believe Mrs. Vance." Trish nodded. Steve pressed the call button, and Miko appeared on the screen. "Miko, will you please join us for a few minutes? I'd like to get your testimony now." "Right away, Mr. Whiley," she said, bowing slightly as the image faded. *** -- Interview with Purser Miko Toranaga -- *** "This won't take very long, I hope, Miko," Steve said. After she remained silent, Steve began. "You say you received a call from Mr. Vance at six o'clock and two minutes?" "Yes." "Did you notice anyone in the halls either shortly before or after that?" "Shortly after the call, Mr. Brown passed my station. I believe he was heading for the rec room." "Is he the only person you saw?" "Yes." "When the captain asked you to find Mrs. Vance, how did you locate her?" Miko blushed slightly. "I have seen Mrs. Vance and Mr. Hobkins when they are near to each other; they are close friends. I visited Mr. Hobkins' room first. They were together." "Very observant." Miko made no reply to that. "Did you notice anything at all between six and six-thirty that may be of any help?" "No. I'm very sorry." Steve shook his head dismissively. "No need to apologize. When you and Lieutenant Alexander searched the rooms last night, did you find anything?" "No, Mr. Whiley. We found no knives. There was no blood on anyone's tunics." "You've collected them all, then?" "Yes, sir. They are labeled very well.""While you were searching, did anyone appear nervous or apprehensive?" "Not that I could see, Mr. Whiley." "When you explained there had been a murder, did anyone react unusually?" "They all seemed genuinely surprised, sir." Steve sighed. "Thank you, Miko. Please send Barry Gold in next." Miko rose, bowed slightly, and left gracefully. "I like her," Trish said. "She's very polite." "That she is." "Not very helpful, though." "Helpful enough," Steve said. "One of the hardest things about a murder is determining the time of death. Thanks to Miko, we have it narrowed down to a nice half-hour span." Trish nodded. "Interesting there was no blood found on the tunics." "I have a theory about that," Steve said. "Care to enlighten me?" Steve smiled. "Think on it a bit." *** -- Interview with Barry Gold -- *** The man who entered the cabin next was thin as a rail, and though he was otherwise an attractive man, he entered the room in a gloom. "Mr. Whiley?" he asked. Steve nodded. "Please have a seat, Mr. Gold." After Barry had been seated, Steve continued, "I have to ask you a few questions, a few may be rather personal." "OK," Barry said. "Dr. Vance was murdered between six and six-thirty last night. Where were you during that time?" "Asleep in my cabin with Janet," Barry answered. "Six is very early to be retiring." Barry blushed. "Well, we decided to find out what zero-G sex was like. It was strenuous." "I see. How long have you known Dr. Vance?" "He's been my mentor for close to four years now." "You admired him?" Barry leaned forward. "Very much! The man was a genius! His theory on gravitational wavelets is as important and as profound as relativity itself." "And yet he was stealing your work." Barry leaned back. "It was our work, Mr. Whiley. The theory was his, I had an interesting idea of how to exploit it, and he worked with me on developing that idea." "So you saw yourself in partnership with him?" "No. I was his student. He was my friend." "Are you aware of how your relationship would affect the financial distribution?" "I am. But we're talking huge here. Doctor Vance had promised me 20% of the project, the rest of the 5% to be distributed among the rest of the staff. That 20% will get me far, far more money than I could ever hope to spend in one or even a hundred lifetimes." "How about the prestige? It might have been his theory, but it was your idea. History will record Doctor Earnest Vance as the father of the wormhole." "And he deserves that recognition. As you say, it was his theory. And I have years and years ahead of me. Right now, it takes a machine at each point to create the wormhole. That means to travel to the stars, we first have to send out a probe before we can open up a link. But I have a theory on how to create a stable wormhole with only ONE machine. After I got my doctorate and was doing my own research, that's what would get me my Nobel. I'd go down in history as the man who gave humanity the stars." "More than enough glory to share, then?" "Exactly." "Are you aware Doctor Vance's wife was having an affair?" Barry crossed his arms. "Yes. Several. I saw her and Jase a few months ago." "Did you mention the affair to anyone?" "Only to Janet. I have no secrets from her." "Congratulations are in order, I hear." Barry beamed. "Yes. We're going to hold a ceremony on Mars a few weeks after we arrive." "I see on the passenger manifest that Janet Dawson has no profession listed. Is this accurate?" "Yes. I met her on campus when she was a first-year med student. She decided she wasn't cut out for medicine, but by then, we were pretty much an item, and I've enough money for us to both live on comfortably." "Before your, activities last afternoon, did you and Janet share a drink?" Barry looked at Steve quizzically, "Yes, we did actually. How did you know?" "Just a guess, Mr. Gold. You are certain the wormhole works?" "Positive." "Do you know a Mr. Tanner Brown?" "Yes. He's the Science Times reporter. He's been covering our project." "Have you had any difficulties with him?" "None at all. He's been very discreet, and I rather like him." "Do you know a Mr. Paul Davis, his wife, or Kathy Kneed?" "Only by bumping into them on the ship." "What about Jeff Barr?" "The teleport engineer? We had a few chats on board. Nice enough fellow, very sharp on his physics." "Thank you, Mr. Gold. That will be all for now. I may have further questions for you later on." Barry nodded and left the room. "This is so frustrating!" Trish mumbled after he left. "All the people with the strongest motives seem so sincere." "These are all extraordinarily bright people, Trish, and I believe the murder was well planned, meticulously planned in fact. No one is going to walk into this room and act in such a way that we will know immediately that he or she is the murderer." "Then what's the point of the interviews?" "The interviews give us more information than we had before, and information is our friend and the murderer's enemy. Already, things begin to fall into place." "And you're not going to tell me what those things are, are you?" Trish pouted. "I would not presume to rub your nose in the facts," Steve smiled. Pressing the call button, Steve said to Miko, "Please send in Janet Dawson." *** -- Interview with Janet Dawson -- *** "Good morning, Ms. Dawson," Steve said as the pretty woman entered the cabin. "Please have a seat." As she moved, he couldn't help noticing how similar in stature she was to Mrs. Vance, though they were several decades apart in ages. "Thank you, Mr. Whiley. I hope you are making good progress on finding Doctor Vance's killer." "There have been some important clues," Steve admitted. "But these interviews will serve to place those clues in context. I have a few questions for you, a few of them may be of a personal nature." "I will answer to the best of my abilities." "Where were you last afternoon between six and six-thirty ships' time?" "In my cabin with my fiancé." "Asleep?" "Resting." "Mr. Gold informed us you were a medical student before you gave it up." "That is correct. I found I was squeamish at the sight of blood. That is not a very good quality for a doctor to have." "And now you will be a homemaker for your husband?" "It is an honorable career." "Indeed it is. Were you aware Mrs. Vance and Jase Hobkins were having an affair?" "Barry mentioned it to me several weeks ago. It did not surprise me." "Why didn't it surprise you?" "I had noticed a certain tenderness between the two of them for almost a year now, as well as a friction between Jase and Dr. Vance." "So Dr. Vance and Mr. Hobkins were not on friendly terms?" "Oh, professionally they were friendly enough. But there always seemed to be some unspoken stress between them when they were together. I had the impression they did not really like each other." "Were you aware Dr. Vance was appropriating Mr. Gold's work?" Janet frowned. "Yes. I didn't like it one bit, but Barry absolutely worshipped Dr. Vance. He assured me that whoever got credit, we were all going to end up absurdly wealthy. He also assured me that he had another idea that would earn him more than enough fame later on." "Are you on favorable terms with Jase Hobkins?" "I like to think so, yes." "With Grace Vance?" "Yes. We're not fast friends or anything, but we're civil enough to each other." "Have you ever slept with Jase Hobkins?" "No." "Do you know a Mr. Davis?" "Yes, I've seen him and Jase together fairly often." "Before this trip?" "At least twice on the moon." "That is interesting. Are you aware that Mr. Davis is the director for NexCor?" "The shipping firm? No, I was not." "Do you know a Mr. Tanner Brown?" "Yes. He's the reporter for Science Times. He always seemed pleasant enough, even if a bit nosy." "Do you believe Jase Hobkins capable of murder?" Janet paused. "Before yesterday, I would have said no. But considering he was having an affair with Dr. Vance's wife, I think he may very well have done it." "And if I told you that Mrs. Vance said she was with Jase at the time of the murder?" Janet thought a moment. "I do not think I would be terribly surprised if they were both involved in the murder." "We found no physical evidence to support that conclusion." Janet's eyebrow arched slightly. "Well, I'm not an investigator. My opinions are, of course, completely uninformed speculation." "Do you know a Jack Barr?" "Yes. He's had several conversations with Barry since we've been on board. They tend to get very technical. I usually don't sit in on their conversations." "Thank you, Ms. Dawson. I may have further questions for you later on. But for now, you have been most helpful." "Why, thank you," Janet said. Trish leaned over and said, "She makes a strong case against Mrs. Vance and Mr. Hobkins." "That she does," Jack said as he pressed the call button. "Miko, since it is nearly lunch time, I would like to dine with the Captain and the Lieutenant. Afterwards, I would like to interview, in this order, Tanner Brown, Paul Davis, Myrial Davis, Kathy Kneed, and Jack Barr." "Very good, Mr. Whiley. The Captain had hoped you would dine with him regardless. I shall make the arrangements, say lunch in two hours?" "That should be fine." "What are we going to do for two hours?" Trish asked. Steve smiled knowingly. "Oh," Trish smiled back. *** -- Another Interlude -- *** "Do you think any of the people we've seen so far is the murderer?" Trish asked as Steve pulled at her zipper. "It's possible. Why don't you tell me what you think of our interviews so far while we play?" Trish's eyes grew wide as Steve lowered himself between her legs. "That is SO naughty!" She scolded. "You mean thinking on a mystery while having sex is perverted?" Steve asked slyly. "In a word, yes," Trish said. "But I like it." "Good.""Steve said as he lowered his mouth to her waiting pussy. "Hmm. This is going to be fun. Well, let's start back on the moon. Oh! That's nice! Jase Hobkins, who's our primary suspect at this point, is caught doing the nasty with Grace by Barry, who mentions it to Janet. Probably caught doing what you're doing to me right now. God, this is so damn weird! Hmmmm. Janet says there's some tension between Jase and Dr. Vance, and she also says Jase has been meeting with Paul Davis before they ever met here. OHHH! Damn, if you keep doing that, this is going to get really, really hard." "That's not the only thing that's really, really hard right now," Steve said mischievously. "I think there's some serious backdoor politics going on here. In addition to the affair, Jase is probably selling project research to Paul Davis. If everything works as everyone seems to think it is, it's probably in Mr. Davis' interest to either sabotage the project or delay it long enough to develop his own wormhole. But that goes right back to incriminating Jase and Mrs. Vance. Yes!" She moaned as she ran her fingers through his hair. "This is so damn sexy." "But the thing is, oooooh!, I believe Mrs. Vance. That means Jase really does have an alibi. And Barry and Janet were together. So I'm, I'm, Oh God! I'm cumming!" "Not bad!" Steve said as he floated up beside her, letting one hand trace delicately around her breasts. "You were paying attention." "And I'm still lost," Trish said. "There were a few subtle points you seemed to have missed though," Steve said. "Maybe you can expound them while I return a favor?" Trish suggested. "I think I'll let you think on it a little more. You seem to have so much fun figuring these things out for yourself." Trish sighed before delicately wrapping her luscious lips around his engorged cock. *** -- Lunch -- *** Lunch consisted of little more than dry ration bars and tea served from squeeze tubes. Ordinarily, such simple fare was consumed in the privacy of one's cabin, but this was more a meeting than lunch. "Have you made any progress, Mr. Whiley?" The Captain asked as they entered. "Some. I've a few theories at the moment, none of which I'm ready to share." "I'm terribly sorry about the lost data link. Apparently, one of the circuits on the communication's laser has malfunctioned." Steve snickered. "It wouldn't be the AE-35 unit, would it?" The captain's face was a puzzled blank as he missed the private joke. "I'm not familiar with that. We do have a teledata unit on board, but it has a limited capacity, and we're saving it for important messages and the final data transfer when the home office has the passenger data compiled." "Have you made any progress on the outside search?" The captain turned to a tall blond man next to him. "Your report, Mr. Alexander?" "I've found nothing yet. But that's not surprising. The asteroid is actually very large, and since we don't know the angle of the orbit, I've had to make a painstaking survey. I do not have much hope of finding anything." "Did you find anything unusual in your search of the passenger cabins?" Steve asked. "Nothing." The lieutenant said. "But I do not have an eye trained for such things; it may very well be that I missed something." "Did you notice any unusual reactions when you informed the passengers of the murder?" Steve asked. "Nothing really stood out, no. There were various reactions from shock, curiosity, worry, confusion. But nothing drew my attention as being out of the ordinary." "You and Miko collected the passenger's clothing?" "Yes, sir. As was instructed, everything has been appropriately labeled." "We may have had a break in that Whitestar requires its passengers to wear ship-issued jumpsuits," Steve commented. "It really isn't that unusual," the captain said. "Jumpsuits are best suited for zero-G environments. They're easy to put on and get out of, and they do not tend to float up in inappropriate places. Do you believe the killer has made a mistake?" "Perhaps. If we find the evidence outside, then the killer has made a mistake. It may be that the killer has made a mistake with the jumpsuit, though I doubt it." "Miko tells me that you only have five more people to interview. Will you be able to solve the case then?" "I believe I will be able to solve it, as for physical proof that may be much, much harder. I would urge Mr. Alexander to be very meticulous in his search." "I will do my utmost, I assure you," the lieutenant said. "And you, Ms. Carter, what do you think of all this?" Trish smiled. "I think it is fascinating to watch Steve at work. But I'm quite lost, I assure you." *** -- Interview with an Interviewer -- *** "Good afternoon, Mr. Brown," Steve said as a dark, smallish man entered the cabin. "I'm honored to meet you, Mr. Whiley. Most gratified as well," Tanner replied. "You've heard of me?" "I follow the press; it's my nature, of course. You were the lead investigator on the Rose Stalker back with the FBI. I believe you also tracked down and apprehended the Foritha Terrorists before they could detonate a nuke in Miami when you were with the CIA. A very impressive career." "Thank you. You realize, of course, why I asked to see you." "Oh, of course. I'm no doubt an abundance of information about the case." "Why don't you share with me some of that abundance?" "Well, going strictly to motive, there's a lot here. If you want to accuse Barry Gold, you only have to know that Doctor Vance was stealing Barry's research. We all knew it, even Barry. But I'll give the Kid credit for being a better person than I would; he didn't seem to care. Jase Hobkins was selling research and test results to Paul Davis." "Really?" Steve said, leaning forward. "Oh yes. I don't think they saw me, but I spied Jase passing a rather large folder on to Mr. Davis back at the lunar research facility." "Interesting," Steve said as he jotted a note. "Please continue." "I'm not terribly sure, but I also think Jase and Mrs. Vance were having an affair. It's more a suspicion, really." "So that would go to Mrs. Vance's motive," Steve noted. "Do you know a Jack Barr?" "Yes. He's a teleport engineer we met on board. He and Barry have had a few chats. I've slept with him a few times to break the monotony." "Do you believe Barry is also selling research?" Tanner thought a moment. "No. I think they may have talked about the theory, but Barry would do that with anyone who could understand him. It would not be in his interest anyway. He's going to be a very rich person, credit or not." "Where were you between six and six-thirty yesterday?" "At six, I left for the rec-room; I spent an hour working out." Steve nodded. "Did you pass anyone on your way to the rec-room?" "I wouldn't say pass. I saw Mrs. Vance go into Jase Hobkins' cabin. I passed Miko at the purser's desk on my way to the rec-room." "Who do you think killed Dr. Vance?" "If pressed, I would say, Jase, Grace, and then Barry in that order." "What about Paul Davis? Surely with billions if not trillions of dollars at stake, he would have motive." "I suppose he would, but surely a man like that would hire a professional." "Perhaps, but he is hands-on enough to see to the theft of research personally," Steve noted. "But this is only wild theory. You also left off Janet Dawson." "Well, there's not much motive for her to have done it." "Maybe Jack Barr then?" Tanner laughed. "Jack's probably the last man on the list of suspects. You'll understand when you interview him." "Thank you, Mr. Brown. I may have further questions later on." "Anytime. It has been a rare pleasure watching you work. If you don't mind, may I take your picture?" "You plan to publish our story?" "Of course! This is the story of the century! The first murder in space!" Steve sighed. "Try not to portray me as some larger-than-life hero. Remember, I still have to live in the world, and it won't be very easy for me to do that if I continually disappoint everyone for not living up to their ideas of me." Tanner laughed as he pulled out a small vid camera and took a few sweeping shots. *** -- Interview with Paul Davis -- *** Paul Davis was very confident and self-assured as he took his seat. He very much looked like a man who ran the affairs of a billion-dollar multinational company. "Good afternoon, Mr. Davis," Steve said. "I'd like to begin by advising you that though I am investigating this murder, I have no official capacity in law enforcement at the present. I therefore ask that you be candid with me, though it may reveal illegalities on your part. So long as your activities do not touch on the murder, I will not be obligated to divulge any improprieties." "Then you already know I've been buying research results," Mr. Davis said, suddenly on guard. "From Mr. Hobkins, is this correct?" Mr. Davis sighed. "Yes, it is. We in the shipping business can survive in the age of the teleport because somehow the raw teleport material has to be shipped from point A to point B. The wormhole bypasses all of that. Thanks to the information we obtained from Mr. Hobkins, we were developing our own wormhole. The timing was tricky, but there was a very good chance that we would share in the patents. This would allow my company to survive and even prosper." "So, in actuality, the death of Dr. Vance is a good thing for your company since it will cause a delay in their research, allowing you more time to finish your prototype." "Stated that way, yes. But I assure you, neither I nor my company had anything to do with Dr. Vance's untimely demise." "Were you in contact with any other member of the research project?" "No. I tried to be as discreet as possible." "Where were you between six and six-thirty yesterday afternoon?" "In my cabin." "Alone?" "Yes."Myrial had decided she wanted to get out and explore a little. "Do you know a Jack Barr?" "I met him on board. He's a teleport engineer, apparently traveling to Mars on vacation, though I find that odd." "How so?" "Well, I've never met anyone from teleport yet who didn't actually use teleport for travel, especially since it costs them nothing." "Thank you, Mr. Davis. I may have other questions for you later on." After Mr. Davis had left, Trish leaned over and asked, "Why so short?" "He didn't do it," Steve said. "How do you know?" "Because the murder will uncover exactly what he doesn't want uncovered. The fact that he has been stealing their research. That will nullify his patents." "Oh." *** -- Interview with Myrial Davis -- *** The prim, proper lady sitting before them looked every inch the wife of a director of a large multinational corporation. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Davis. I have just a few questions for you, a formality really." "Of course," she answered. "Where were you between six and six-thirty yesterday afternoon?" "I was taking a stroll around the ship. It gets awfully boring in the cabin sometimes." "Did you see anyone while you were out and about?" "I saw Mr. Brown in the rec-room doing some exercises, but no one else. Mostly, I was in the viewing gallery watching the stars. They are so beautiful." "Do you know, or have any impressions about, the other people on board?" "Other than my husband and Kathy? No, I'm afraid not." "Are you aware your husband was purchasing research on the wormhole project from Mr. Hobkins?" "I really do not concern myself with my husband's business, Mr. Whiley." "What do you concern yourself with, Mrs. Davis?" Steve asked pointedly. "Why, what a wife of a prominent businessman should concern herself with, Mr. Whiley. I hold social events, meet with the wives of his executives, manage the household, and a million other things that make us both very successful." Steve sighed. "Can you think of anything that may help me in this investigation, however trivial?" "No. I'm afraid not." "Very well. I may have other questions for you later on." "Thank you, Mr. Whiley. I'm sorry I couldn't be of much help." After she had left, Trish shuddered and said, "That woman is totally consumed by her husband's life." "Maybe," Steve said. "She is a very fine actress and plays her part well, I think. But everyone has their own lives. I think that if we dug beneath the surface, what we found would surprise you." *** -- Interview with Kathy Kneed -- *** "You are Mr. Davis' secretary?" Steve asked of the pretty woman sitting before him. "Yes." Steve started to ask something further, but she interrupted. "Before you continue, there are a few other things you should know. I know this is not an official investigation, but I do know murder is very serious, and I have no desire to be a part of that particular intrigue." Steve sat back. "Please continue." "I'm Mr. Davis' secretary, it's true, for close to five years now. I'm a very good secretary. But I also work for TransCor, a competitor of NexCor. I obtain information that I think may be of value to my employer and pass it on." Steve nodded. "I actually suspected as much, though it was only a very small suspicion. This information, of course, included the wormhole research Mr. Davis was obtaining from Mr. Hobkins." Kathy raised an eyebrow in surprise. "I think I did right by coming clean with you if you figured that much out for yourself. Yes, the wormhole research was the majority of the information I passed along." "You've been having an affair with Mr. Davis?" "On and off, when he needed it. It's not strictly a part of the job description, but it is expected if not engraved in stone." "Did you ever meet with any of the researchers of the wormhole project?" "I met a few of them for the first time on-board. The short answer is I wasn't on a first-name basis with anyone." "Do you know a Jack Barr?" "Only by bumping into him on-board." "Do you think Mr. Davis has the capacity to have murdered Dr. Vance?" Kathy sat back and thought. "Mr. Davis can be ruthless. When you head up a multibillion-dollar corporation, you are swimming with the sharks literally. Such men don't survive on things like compassion or humanity. So, in answer to your question, I believe the answer is yes. If you ask if I think he did it, I'd say no. It would interfere with his plans." "But not TransCor," Steve said pointedly. "No," Kathy said. "Their link is further removed, thanks to me. This is why I decided to be very candid with you. If I tried to hide my link to TransCor and you uncovered it, I would become a suspect." "It is something I will consider. Where were you between six and six-thirty yesterday?" "In my cabin, organizing files and notes for Mr. Davis." "Alone?" "Yes." "Thank you for your testimony and candor, Ms. Kneed. I may have further questions for you later on." "I will be at your beck and call," she answered before leaving. "Very suspicious, that one," Trish said. "She actually has motive, I can see her sharing wine with Dr. Vance, and she's tough as nails beneath that pretty exterior." The terminal lit up, and Miko appeared on the screen. "Mr. Whiley? The Captain has asked me to inform you that Lieutenant Alexander has found a large knife and a hammer outside. He asks me to tell you that there may be other evidence, and they are still searching." Steve leaned back, bringing his hands up to his mouth as he thought on that. Finally, after a few moments, he said, "Thank you, Miko. That answers one of the questions I still had. Please send in Jack Barr." *** -- Interview with Jack Barr -- *** The man sitting across from them was very small, standing about five feet tall. He was physically the weakest man Steve could remember seeing in a very long time. In addition to that, the man very much looked his role as an engineer. "Good afternoon, Mr. Barr. I have a few questions I'd like to ask." "I understand." "You work for teleport?" "I do." "If I may ask, why are you traveling in this manner?" "Not everyone at teleport is enamored of the process. I prefer to keep my molecules intact." "The manifest also says you are on vacation?" "I am." "Teleport is a very generous company to allow you a what, twenty-week vacation?" Jack coughed. "Well, it's more a leave of absence." "And your presence here with researchers who are developing a competing product is merely a coincidence?" Jack turned beet red. "In truth, no. Teleport found out about the wormhole experiments. I was asked to travel and find out if there was any truth to the reports." "And you discovered?" "After talking with Barry, I believe the device will revolutionize everything." "And put teleport out of business?" "Teledata may survive, but teleport as a means of travel will go the way of the horse and buggy." "This disturbs you?" "Not at all! There's always demand for a good engineer." "Where were you between six and six-thirty yesterday?" "In my cabin doing some research on gravitational wavelets." "Other than Barry Gold, have you talked with anyone else aboard?" "Tanner Brown and I have talked on occasion. But as for the others, no. I was really interested only in the theories behind the wormhole." "You and Mr. Brown are lovers?" Jack blushed again. "Friends or acquaintances really. I'm usually not so free with who I have relationships with, but as the only other gay man on board, he offered some diversion to the routine." "Thank you, Mr. Barr. I may have other questions for you later on." *** -- Pieces of a Puzzle -- *** "Well, this is an interesting puzzle," Trish said after they returned to their cabin. "Yes, it is. Do you know who did it yet?" "You mean you do?" Steve nodded. "The evidence found outside was the last link." "Who?" Trish demanded. "Think on it a bit. I'll help you out with the clues. See if you can put it together. You've, after all, been privy to every moment of the investigation. Everything's there if you look for it." "OK. I'll play your game. The clues, let's see, that would be the wine, the blood, the coin, and the hairs." "Dismiss the coin and the hairs. They might or might not have been plants. But since the possibility exists that they are plants, ignore them and go with the other evidence." "Hmm. That only leaves the wine and the blood." "You're forgetting the wound itself. A single blow, delivered powerfully enough to crack the ribs." "I remember now. You said that was contradictory evidence. Men don't ordinarily share wine, and the blow was powerful as if delivered from a strong man. The only really powerful man aboard is Mr. Hobkins." "And the other evidence points to him as well," Steve said. "But remember also our conversation at the crime scene." "Because everyone knows the killer is aboard, the killer would go to great pains to make sure that someone else was blamed. Or something like that. Unless, of course, it was a crime of passion." "Now consider what was found outside." "A knife and a hammer. Why a hammer?" "Think on it a second," Steve prompted. "You can figure it out." "To deliver a powerful blow!" Trish said in awe after a moment. "But that's silly! Surely Dr. Vance did not just sit there while the victim poised a knife at his chest and strike it with a hammer." "Yes, that is a puzzle," Steve admitted. "At least until you put it in context with the other facts." Trish thought for a few minutes on that. "The wine, could it have been drugged?" "Very nice!" Steve said. "I'm assuming it would be a drug that left almost no trace unless it was being specifically looked for, of course. When we reach Mars, we'll have them check for just such a class of drugs – something which would leave the victim immobile or unconscious." "The killer was a woman!" Trish exclaimed. "Undoubtedly."That means either Mr. Hobkins was covering for Grace and thus an accomplice, or it was one of the other women." "Yes. It does tend to narrow the suspect list down to five people." "There are six women aboard," Trish said slyly. "And I was getting a heavenly blow job by one of them at the time, and she has an alibi," Steve smiled. "I doubt Miko was in on it," Trish said. "And Mrs. Davis just seems too artificial to do anything so vulgar." "I guess that leaves Mrs. Vance, Ms. Kneed, and Ms. Dawson," Steve said. "But Mrs. Vance has an alibi. She was with Mr. Hobkins. Mr. Hobkins vouches for her, and Mr. Brown said he saw her enter Mr. Hobkins' room. Besides, I believe her. So it's really only two people." "Yes. I'm sure the killer didn't plan on Mrs. Vance being seen by Mr. Brown. It's one of the problems with murder. No matter how well you plan things, something usually goes wrong. The testimony of Miko and Mr. Brown and the timing of it all tend to exclude Mrs. Vance," Steve said. Trish studied the desk intently for several minutes before slowly raising her eyes to meet Steve's gaze. "It was Janet Dawson!" Steve's eyes twinkled. "What gave her away?" "The wine was drugged! Janet was a med student!" "But she had an alibi," Steve reminded her playfully. "Barry was asleep!" Trish jerked the notebook around to her and typed in a few commands. "Barry said that he and Janet had a drink before they had sex! It's right here! I'll bet she slipped him a mickey! Barry was asleep, but Janet said only she was resting!" "You'd probably win your bet," Steve said. "There are another couple of points against her as well, though they are very subtle." "I'm sorry, Steve, I've played myself out, and I can't even begin to guess at motive." "I suppose money and power would do as a motive. The prestige of being the wife of the man who invented the wormhole would likely be far greater than the prestige of being the wife of the man who worked to develop the wormhole. No doubt if we do a psychological work-up of her personality, we'll find a deep need to be around power. But that's really conjecture at this point." "So what are the other points?" "She has the same general build as Mrs. Vance. They could probably wear each other's jumpsuits quite easily." "The blood!" Steve nodded. "No doubt she cleaned it off, but knew full well it wouldn't survive a deep DNA probe. Again, as a medical student, she would be familiar with chemicals that would remove blood. I would hazard a guess that after arriving, she offered Dr. Vance some wine and shortly thereafter excused herself to visit the bathroom. She probably lifted one of Mrs. Vance's spare suits and probably put it on over her own. No doubt the DNA tests will find traces of Dr. Vance's blood on one of Mrs. Vance's suits." "So she was really framing both Mrs. Vance and Mr. Hobkins!" Trish exclaimed. "Exactly. There was another subtle point as well." "Which was?" "She was the only person we interviewed other than Tanner Brown who suggested motives of others with little prompting. Mr. Brown had a solid alibi." "Ahhh. I never would have noticed that." "I think with practice you would have," Steve said. Trish frowned. "But how to prove it? All the physical evidence still points to Mr. Hobkins." "That really isn't a problem at all," Steve said. "Though all this was elaborately planned, she was too smart for her own good and actually made several crucial mistakes." "Like assuming whoever investigated would take the evidence she planted at face value." "Right, that's one." "She also didn't expect the murder weapon to be recovered." Trish frowned. "But the radiation and vacuum in space would destroy any DNA evidence. She may have even stolen the knife from Mr. Hobkins." "True," Steve admitted. "But I think the drugs she used will be uncovered once they are being looked for, and no doubt an investigation will reveal she had access to or purchased the drugs in question. Also, a DNA sweep of the jumpsuits would reveal the blood, and a more thorough sweep should show that Ms. Dawson was inexplicably close to that suit. Something in light of motive, means, and opportunity will be very hard for her to explain." "Ah!" Trish said. "How long have you known she was the culprit?" "I suspected her after our interview with Mrs. Vance. Each subsequent interview only served to confirm my suspicions. When Miko told me of the hammer, I knew beyond a reasonable doubt." "But what about the hairs? How did she get Mr. Hobkins' hairs?" "They may have slept together once. Maybe Mr. Hobkins visited their home and she just gathered what she found. Any number of explanations would suffice, really." "I'm impressed," Trish admitted. "So am I," Steve said. "You unraveled it quite nicely on your own." "But not all the way, and certainly not as quickly as you did," Trish said. "She spent how long planning all this, weeks, months? You had her figured out in hours." "Aw shucks," Steve said bashfully. "I think you deserve some sort of reward," Trish said intently. "Well, maybe we ought to fill in the Captain first." "It's not like she's going to rush off and kill again, Steve! I think an hour or so wouldn't do any harm!" "An hour or so?" Steve asked incredulously. *** -- All's well that ends well -- *** "Mr. Whiley! Mr. Whiley!" Tanner Brown called from across the busy spaceport. Steve glanced over and saw the intrepid reporter and paused, waiting for the man to catch up with him. "I'm glad I caught up with you!" "I saw your story in Time," Steve said. "Very flattering. Exactly the sort of garbage that I'm going to have to spend the rest of my life trying to live up to." "It was only the truth, Mr. Whiley," the reporter said defensively. "Before any of the physical evidence could be analyzed, before any psychological profiles drawn up, before any passenger histories could be delivered, you had the killer dead to rights and behind bars, well behind a locked door anyway." "Whatever," Steve replied. "So what brings you to the spaceport today?" "Well, Science Times is owned by a larger media company. They want to buy the VR rights to your story." Steve started laughing. "Really, Mr. Whiley, this is a substantial amount of money!" Steve wiped a tear from his eye. "Mr. Brown, I'm a private detective. I enjoy what I do, and I like to think I'm good at it. I've worked with enough famous clients to know exactly the price of fame, and I seriously doubt your company can meet that price." "How does half a million new dollars sound?" Despite himself, Steve stopped and turned to consider the man. "No dickering, Mr. Brown. I'll give you exactly one more chance to name a figure. You'd better make it the highest number you're authorized to make." Tanner Brown considered Steve carefully. "One million new dollars." "Nice," Steve said. "Let us discuss artistic license a moment. If, for instance, I wished the story to uncover corporate espionage and the theft of a fine young man's research, I'm assuming, of course, that would be a part of the story?" "I think that could be arranged," the reporter said, his smile growing. "And if I suggested the name of the detective be changed?" "No doubt that screenwriters would wish to choose a more adventurous name." "Tell me, are you making the trip back?" "Why, as a matter of fact, I am." "Then I'll accompany you to the ticket desk. It seems Whitestar has granted me and my guests free passage in perpetuity in gratitude for a certain small favor." Tanner laughed. "That perpetuity won't be all that long, I assure you!" "Then the Mars-moon wormhole worked?" "Flawlessly," Tanner said as they made their way to the ticket counter. -- Sandman Afterward: The science in the Whiley series up until this point has pretty much been grounded in science fact. That is, all the marvelous technologies described are based on actual scientific discoveries that, assuming a hyperactive imagination, could CONCEIVABLY be applied to the devices used in these stories. However, the wormhole device in this story is purely a construct of the author's imagination.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/8350.txt

Andrew Roller

Dungeon of Desire

"Yes, that's it," Katy encouraged us. She stroked our backs. Dick could not find space for his big penis and was forced immediately to plunge it into the glory hole as he mounted the bench. I heard a sliding sound, or imagined I did, of hardened flesh pushing within the slick steel rings. They'd been greased to accept him. He had only to poke himself within, and the fat and lard smeared on the rings took him within themselves, offering no resistance, letting him slip right in to his fate. And then, quite distinctly, I did hear Dick gasp as two prongs within the ringed tube separated, like tongs, and then closed again on his cock. "Don't back up. It's dangerous!" Katy laughed. She told Dick what was happening to him. "Within the lining of rings lie two slim bits of metal, a little sharp at the end. Have you ever driven over prongs in a parking lot?" "Um, yeah. That's what it feels like," Dick answered. His voice was calm and controlled, but I could sense a deep fear brooding in him, yet at the same time an astonishment that he could be so completely made captive. And by a girl, with just a clever set of rings in a hole in the wall. And in such an unlikely way; by his erect penis. "I can feel, well, within the rings, two prongs," Dick explained out loud, as if to convince himself that this was really happening. "I pushed in okay, but if I try to pull out the sharp ends of the prongs dig into the flesh of my penis. They're pressing down just at their tips, behind the flanged head of my cock..." Dick had studied pre-med and he knew all the terminology. He seemed to be attempting to explain his situation clinically, as if reason, and not the spending of his passion, would save him. Even then, I feared, he might not get back out. However much he might reduce his size by shooting out his sperm, the tongs would still be pressing inward, their sharp points preventing his cockhead from withdrawing. "Shove yourself in a little more, dear. I want the prongs not directly against your penis crown. Let them press against your shaft. That's it, press yourself completely against the wall," Katy said. She placed both her palms firmly against the underside of his bare bottom and shoved his ass forward. Dick gasped again as he felt himself truly put all of himself into the hole now, so that he was captive right up to the root of his manhood. "Does it feel good?" Katy asked Dick matter-of-factly. "It feels...whoa!" Dick shouted. I suddenly realized that little Jennifer had snuck behind the plywood wall and was screwing closed the rings around Dick's penis. "No! Stop!" Dick urged. I think he suddenly saw himself winding up like John Bobbit, except this severing would be complete and permanent. I watched his handsome face contort as he felt the rings close and close and close, little Jennifer merrily twisting the screw handle. She was so small and young and unsure of herself yet, given a chance to screw a man's penis into a wall, she was suddenly quite delighted and happy. I heard her give a little squeal as she watched, from her side of the plywood, the rings crush themselves into Dick's big fleshy member. "Not too tight, Jennifer dear," Katy cautioned. "We may want to use him later." She stroked Dick's back. "But not now, eh Dickie boy? You surely won't find any pleasure inside those steel rings. You can't rub yourself, and you certainly can't pull out and then shove yourself back in. And the steel rings, spaced out, provide no real comfort, do they? It's not like when you were a boy and might stick your penis into a towel. No, these are just metal rings, and most of your cock is not held by anything. Yet parts of it are, and the rings plus the prongs ensure that you, my dear Dick, aren't going anywhere. Or cumming, either."There is no finer thing in life than a naked, beautiful female. And while there is a 'standard' for beauty, the average guy, including me, is quite willing to admire a whole range of female types. Ladies, please! Try to 'get it'! Us guys are interested in serving you. Haven't you ever heard the phrase, "serve a woman"? If you are unhappy, it's not because guys are bad. It's because you've chosen the wrong guy! A psychologist once said, "We like to think there's that one special someone out there, just for us. But, in fact, there are 100,000 special someones." If you feel unhappy with the person you've chosen, choose another one. Now let's have a look at the lusty babes in this issue: Adele Stephens, page 5, is an utterly perfect blonde. She gets very soapy as she washes her master's car. Yes, it is a little exploitative, I guess. He's sitting in a fine silk suit, smoking a cigar, discussing world affairs with his distinguished friends, while young Adele struggles with a floppy sponge and a wriggling hose. What's worse, they make her wear just a skimpy white t-shirt. But Adele doesn't seem too offended by how they're using her. After all, she knows she's the prettiest girl they've ever seen, and if her master ever neglects her, the other men present would pay anything to have her. Jenna and Janine, page 14, are having a party. You're invited. While you struggle to get your zipper unstuck, these two girls get carried away with a bottle of champagne. Jenna mounts a chair and offers her bottomhole to Janine. Janine pops the champagne open and pours it over her own breasts, and straight into Jenna's hole! A feminist might say, "disgusting!" But why? Isn't it wonderful to see nude, exceptionally attractive girls displaying their sexual parts in this way? What could be better in life than this, especially when a guy is afflicted with a rock-hard erection? Tina, page 27, understands. She's snuggled up next to the fireplace in her house. It's cold and stormy outside, but she feels safe inside. She's got some friends to keep her company. What a pleasant way to spend the evening, with another couple, dressed just in sleepwear, telling stories next to a crackling fire? Chestnuts roast over the fire as the stories are told. Tina's story gets rather sexy. She pulls down her panties to make sure her pussy isn't getting too wet. After all, it's raining cats and dogs outside. She doesn't need to be wet inside too! I could talk about all the other steamy girls in this issue, but unfortunately I'm getting quite, er, wet myself. (Damn! My last clean pair of underpants, too.) There is one more girl I absolutely must mention, though: Dill, page 63. She's a slim blonde. She's just 18. Her pictorial opens with her wearing a small t-shirt, panties, and white socks. God, what a fantastic pictorial this is! Dill is so sweet and lovely, and looks so comfy in her bed. Yet, for some reason, she's decided to take a big, long, black dildo to bed with her! LUST over this girl as she kneels on her bed and pulls up her neat little t-shirt. SALIVATE as she laughs with her legs spread apart, her discarded panties ringing one of her ankles. DIE as she offers her bottom, and sucks her thumb, while lying on her belly with the dildo about to penetrate her ass! YA-HOOOOOOOO! If that isn't enough, on the opposite page, there's an ad. In this ad there's a photo of a young blonde. She's naked, except for her panties. As she smiles mischievously at the camera, she sticks her hand into the front of her panties and plays with her slit. (Shit. Now I not only need new underpants, but a new carpet!) At the very back of this magazine, there's an ad for next issue. Guess what? Claire Cass is cumming back! I really loved Claire when she used to be in Mayfair. Then, in her last few pictorials, I felt she was starting to look too old. (At least in comparison to the wonderfully youthful way she'd looked earlier!) I am pleased to report that, although Claire does look older in the 'sneak preview' photo shown at the back of this magazine, she nonetheless looks terrific! She has a bit of a dominatrix look in her gaze, but at the same time a vulnerability too. It's almost as if she's saying, "I'd like to dominate you, but you're so big and strong, I'm not sure that I can." (Don't worry, Claire. You can definitely dominate me. I'll buy the handcuffs.) Speaking of which, I have next to my computer a new photo! It's actually an old photo, from a Playboy calendar, of Petra Verkaik. She's one of the all-time greatest Playboy Playmates ever photographed, as voted over and over again, not only by readers but also by fellow Playmates! In this photo, Petra, a very shy, playful woman, has adopted a pose that's quite severe. She's wearing riding attire. (Without pants on, of course.) In her hand she's holding a riding crop! If you have any attraction to no-nonsense dommes, I highly recommend this picture. Perhaps it's available somewhere on Playboy's web site. Meantime, if you can't find the photo of Petra, check out next month's Mayfair. I think Claire Cass could make a wonderful dominatrix, now that she looks a little older, but still retains some of her girlish charm. I really liked this issue of Mayfair. I hope all the future issues of Mayfair are as exciting as this one. (And remember ladies, if you don't want us guys looking at Mayfair, there's a very simple solution. You don't have to pass any laws. Just send us an e-mail. Put "FUCK ME -- I'M A 10" in the subject header. We'll think of nothing but you once we get that. Not even this month's Mayfair!) BARE AT THE BOOKSTORE by holy joe Beautiful girls in the nude A Place in the Sun, by David Hamilton, $31.50. (List price: $45.00) Hardcover. Many color pages. Web: http://www.amazon.com Review: This book contains a variety of beautiful pictures of various things, from deserted beaches, to storm-encroached seas, to even a mule! It also has some excellent photos of young girls, some of which are extraordinary in their perfection of beauty and their playful attitude toward life. I would say there are 10 to 20 photos of beautiful girls in this book. They are well worth the asking price of the book. BUY! BUY! BUY! What am I made of, money? Okay, let's face it. Between porno magazines and art books, you could wind up spending an awful lot of money. What to do? Should you buy just Hamilton? Sturges? And what's Sally Mann up to? I've only seen Hamilton's work, but I've been able to glean some information about the others. Sally Mann, as far as I can tell, is a feminist. She is just presenting "the feminist line," which is the only viewpoint some Americans want to see in this world. (The line that says, 'Girls must be strong and assertive and dominant, and boys must be either the same, or submissive.') (There's no room, in other words, for soft, giggly, silly girls, or even ones that are challenging in their sexuality, but new and therefore still slightly unsure of themselves.) Don't get me wrong. I have seen some wonderful work by women in magazines like Playboy and Penthouse. I'm not criticizing Sally Mann because she's a woman photographer. In my opinion, a woman photographer might be able, especially in a "porno" magazine, to get more in touch with her subject than a male photographer can. But my fear is that Sally Mann is focused primarily on presenting her subjects as icons of feminism. As for Sturges, TIME calls his work "unobjectionable." (Though TIME would still prefer that Sturges didn't exist.) A reader at Amazon.com, evaluating Hamilton's A Place in the Sun, writes: "One shows nudity as dull, while the other, brings charm and grace that quickens the pulse, not dulls the senses." Sturges is the one described as "dull." Sturges also shoots in black and white, while Hamilton takes photos in color. The problem for Sturges is that he lives in America. As you know, America has been in a death-grip of totalitarianism regarding this subject. Sturges even had his home invaded by the police, and they destroyed many of his photos. (That happened about a decade ago. The 'case' was later dropped.) My advice would be, if you can only afford one or two books, buy Hamilton. AND IN THE END... "This book really shows that there is no more beautiful image in the world than that of the female body, especially in its age of innocence." - Amazon.com reader reviewing David Hamilton's The Age of Innocence."[In addition to being photographed,] these girls... should be on nude beaches, resorts, etc. feeling stress-free and being free as the little white doves they are." - Amazon.com reader reviewing David Hamilton's The Age of Innocence. (Yes! - h.j.) -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.

Chapter Four

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/9415.txt

Martina Lee

car ride (1/17 from Oh, Susana)

"Fuck me!" Susana pressed her feet hard against the roof of the car, bracing herself as Peter pounded away at her pulsating pussy. "Yes! Yes! Fuck me. Harder. HARDER. Fuck me, fuck me, FUCK me, get it in, push it, push it in, push, push, yes, yes, YESSS . . . Oh, fuck YESSS!" She arched her back on the laid-back seat and whinnied as his plunging cock drove her once again to the point of climax and beyond. She flung her arms over her head, jammed her hands under the squab of the back seat and pushed back against his relentless hammering. "Yes," she panted. "Yes, oh, yes." Susana had decided more than two weeks earlier that she had to have him, and it had taken her this long to get him alone. In that time, he had become an obsession with her. She was bored with life in this strange city, this strange country, where as the expatriate wife of an expatriate contract worker there was little for her to do except supervise the housemaid, shop and hang out at the club, usually with other bored expat wives. A couple of times a month, a group of them would descend on a hotel disco where they would dance a lot, drink rather more than was prudent, and flirt with the local male talent. Neil would be waiting up for her when she got home and she'd tease him with elaborate tales of how this guy or that had tried to pick her up. That always turned him on, and they'd spend the rest of the night screwing, acting out their fantasies of what might have happened if she'd accepted one of the offers. She never did — she'd seen the mess that some of the other women got into when they cheated on their husbands and she had no intention of being unfaithful to Neil. But then she met Peter, and her hormones got the better of her. He was big, and brown, and beautiful, and she sensed it would be a mistake to mention him to Neil. More and more frequently she caught herself daydreaming about him, imagining his body pressed to hers, his lips teasing her breasts, his cock drilling into her. Some days she spent hours lost in fantasies about him. She masturbated constantly, often unconsciously, rubbing her crotch against the backs of chairs and the corners of tables, caressing herself in the shower and revelling in the feel of warm water coursing down her belly and between her legs. Even in the car she found a way of keeping up the tension, clenching and unclenching the muscles in her buttocks and thighs as she drove. After one such episode on the way to the supermarket, she couldn't get out of the car and had to drive home again to change...there was a large wet patch on the back of her skirt. Waking from erotic dreams in the early hours of the morning, while Neil slept beside her in their king-size bed, she sought release in finger-fucking, surreptitiously driving herself to silent and unsatisfying orgasm after orgasm. None of it helped. The worst of it was that Peter seemed indifferent to her obvious infatuation, paying as much attention to her friends as he did to her and showing no sign of being interested in more than a few dances, a few drinks and the usual nightclub chat. Susana began to doubt her own desirability. Finally, in desperation, she told him she wanted an evening alone with him, without any of his friends or hers, and he agreed, with some amusement, that she could pick him up from work and they could go out together. Susana was elated. It didn't matter that he seemed to have no thoughts of crossing the line separating friend from lover. She had to have him as lover, and tonight she was going to make sure she did. He was working late, and it was almost nine o'clock when she picked him up. She had spent almost three hours getting ready, discarding one outfit after another and finally going back through the pile to settle on a full-skirted blue dress that he had once said he liked. The scent of his aftershave wafted over her as he settled into the seat beside her, and involuntarily she raised her left hand and touched him lightly on the cheek. "You smell good enough to eat," she said, blushed with the sudden erotic image that presented to her, and put the car in gear. "Where to?" she asked. He didn't know. They drove around aimlessly for a while, considering one place after another, Susana rejecting each in turn because they were likely to run into friends and defeat her whole purpose. She agreed she was hungry, and at length they settled on a takeaway meal, drove to the beach and parked, made small talk while they ate in the car. When they finished, he gathered up the containers and got out to dump them in the bin. Susana took a deep breath, slid her seat back, then clambered over to the seat he had just vacated. "Get in the other side," she said when he returned. As he settled behind the wheel she turned towards him and placed a hand on his thigh. "I want you," she said. "Here. Now." She leaned closer, pulled his head towards her, kissed him on the forehead and then, clumsily, on the lips. "Please," she said. "I need it now." She kissed him again, slipped her hand from the top of his thigh to brush her fingers against the front of his pants, and was encouraged to discover that he had the beginnings of an erection. She reached for his right hand, guided it through the folds of her dress to her breast. She wasn't wearing a bra and his fingers closed on warm flesh, began to knead and caress her swollen nipple. Almost feverishly, Susana unbuttoned his shirt, peeled it open and began to cover his chest with kisses. She dropped her left hand again to the front of his pants, found him erect and ready, sought his mouth once more. His lips parted to admit her tongue and he wrapped his left arm around her shoulders, pulled her fiercely to him. It was a long, hot kiss, and they were both panting when, finally, she pulled back from him. "Time to eat," she said, remembering her remark when he first got into the car. She yanked at his belt, and he raised his hips and held the waistband of his trousers as she unzipped him. The tip of his by now rampant cock poked above the waist of his underpants. Susana lowered her head to his belly, licked his navel, then peeled back his pants and dipped further to take his cock in her mouth. He moaned softly, placed a hand on top of her head and urged her on. She gurgled with delight, allowed him to press her down until her mouth was crammed with cock and there was no more left to take. He lifted his hand away from her head and she began to pump, her left hand lightly squeezing and releasing his balls as her head rose and fell and her lips and tongue slid up and down, up and down his burning pole. Soon he was gasping in time with her downstrokes, and she sensed he was more than ready for the next phase. She pulled away from him, reached for the seat-back release and lay back. "Fuck me," she said. She pulled her skirt up to her waist, dropped a hand between her legs and watched his face as her fingers brushed aside the leg of her cami-knickers and busied themselves in her sodden slit. "Fuck me now." He scrambled across the car to kneel between her legs, pushed his pants down around his thighs, and dived onto her. Susana grabbed for his tool, guided it between the lips of her cunt, and shivered in ecstasy as he rammed into her. Two weeks of dreaming had all come true, and the reality was far, far better than the fantasy. "YESSS," she yelled, as he ploughed his way up and down her furrow. "DO IT TO ME!" Susana shuddered with another aftershock of orgasm, fell back limp and exhausted, stiffened again as the pounding continued. "No...more," she gasped. "No more, don't, stop, don't, don't, stop, don't...stop...stop...don't, don't, stop, don't...stop, don't stop, don't stop, don't stop don't stop, DON'T STOP, DON'T STOP!"Peter had no intention of stopping, would not have been able to stop even if he had wanted to. His face and arms were running with sweat, he was gasping for breath, lights flashed in the red haze before his eyes, and he was fucking like an automaton, aware of nothing except the urgent need to rid himself of the mounting pressure in his loins. He clawed at Susana's breasts, digging his fingers into the soft flesh and making her cry out in pain as the dam burst and he exploded inside her, his hips jerking out of control and his bursting cock buried up to the hilt in her warm, clutching cunt. He fell forward on top of her, humped spasmodically a couple of times as the hot juice jetted out of him, and bit at her neck. Susana wrapped her arms around him, brought her feet down from the roof, and dug her heels into his buttocks as she climaxed again. She hugged him to her, twisted her head, and stuck her tongue in his ear. "Thank you," she said. Totally spent, they lay still and quiet for a few moments, then he raised himself slightly, and Susana groaned as his softening cock slipped out of her and flopped limply between her legs. The leg of her knickers fell back into place, and the fabric was soaked instantly as their combined juices flooded out of her cunt. She pulled his head down to hers again and kissed him. Suddenly there was an almighty "bang" on the roof, and the inside of the car rang like a gong. Peter jerked upright, and there was another bang as he cracked his head against the roof. He cursed, spun around, and there were three grinning faces peering in through the windscreen. Kids, maybe 12 or 13 years old. As he struggled to pull up his pants, they laughed and hammered again on the roof. "Great show," one of them yelled, "but don't you have a bed to do it in?" They scampered off into the darkness, hooting loudly with laughter. Peter was trembling with rage and embarrassment. Susana reached for him, pulled herself up, and hugged him tightly. "It's all right," she soothed. "They've gone." She kissed him again, buttoned his shirt, helped him back into his trousers. Then she drove him home.

1. Take me for a ride in the car

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/17994.txt

FirmHand23

"Dawn's Big Confession"

"Hmm...I wonder what you're not confessing to me..." My words, spoken so softly, echoed throughout the room. She looked at me in disbelief. 'How can he possibly know I'm not telling him everything?' she thought. She tried to think of something to say...but could only think of lies...the truth was too embarrassing to confess, even to me. Our "accountability sessions" often began this way. Dawn knew she was required to confess her latest errors and misbehaviors. But she never knew just how much I already knew. I always tested her honesty during our little sessions, although dragging the truth from her is sometimes a lengthy chore. She did realize that being caught in a lie or significant omission would not fare well for her tender little bottom. "Well, Sir, I was late three more times, but I didn't want to tell you that." She hoped I'd be satisfied with this explanation, even though she knew it would still cost her a sore bottom. "Young lady, you will atone for your tardiness...you can be sure of that! But what is it you're still not confessing to me?" 'I don't believe it! How did he know? I wish I hadn't lied! Now I'm going to pay for something I didn't do, and he's still waiting for the truth.' She started to fidget, trying to come up with a plan. She looked across the table at me. I was calmly watching her, obviously amused by her increasing nervousness. She desperately tried to think of something to say to satisfy my curiosity without admitting her indiscretion. She looked down at her hands as she thought back to the last Girls Night Out, when all her troubles began. She had planned to come home early, so that she wouldn't be late to work the next day. But when Angie suggested they go up to the Cowboy Bar, it really did sound like fun. Of course, she knew I'd forbidden her to go there, but they were just going to shoot some pool and flirt with the cowboys...no big deal. She suddenly remembered the consequences the last time she didn't obey me and she hesitated, thinking that maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. Sarah's voice broke into her thoughts. "Come on, Dawn, are you with us or not?" She pushed all thoughts of me and my training out of her mind, and happily went off into the night with her friends. Twenty minutes later, they arrived at the Cowboy Bar, shocked to see several Sheriff's cars parked outside, lights flashing. Angie looked disappointed and said, "Oh wow, I wonder what we missed!" Dawn was glad they missed it. Now she wished she'd stayed home...obviously I had good reasons for telling her she was not allowed to go there. A deputy approached their car, shining his flashlight on the four of them. "This is no place for ladies. I suggest you leave. Now." Kathy, who was driving, replied "Yes, Sir" and promptly started the car. All the way back down the canyon, Angie and Sarah kept complaining that they missed all the excitement. Kathy didn't say very much, and Dawn was glad they were nearly home. She couldn't stop thinking about me, and what would happen if I ever found out about this little misadventure. She finally looked up from her hands and back across the table at me. I was still calmly watching her, waiting patiently for her confession. She sighed in resignation for she knew I would continue to wait until she told me the truth. Trying to keep her voice steady, she began "Well, Sir, it happened last month on Girls Night Out..." and went on to explain what had happened. "Hmmm...disobeyed me again, young lady. I was amused at her nervousness, and I did nothing to decrease it. I have ways of getting the whole story out of her...however long it may take. I told her to stand up from the table. I came around to her side and led her into the bedroom. The room she is all too familiar with at times like these. 'Oh shit,' she thought. 'I knew this was going to happen, but it's too soon! I don't want to leave the safety of the table.' "You know what you have to do, Dawn, my dear," I told her in a low but very firm voice. Without any further instructions, she slowly unbuckled her belt, pulled her zipper down and tugged down her jeans until they were resting comfortably at her ankles. She looked up at me, her eyes pleading, but I silently motioned her with my index finger to lower her panties. She knelt down in front of me and slipped her thumbs into the top of her thin white panties, forcing them down to her knees. I tucked up her T-shirt so she was now completely bare below the waist. I slowly walked around her, inspecting her nakedness. A sharp slap on her left buttock snapped her to attention. "You may continue now, Miss," I said evenly. She both loved and feared the strength in my voice. The air was cool against her bare skin, but she was warm all over from the shame of being exposed this way. As I slowly walked around her, inspecting her nakedness, she tried to control her breathing. She knew she couldn't control anything else at that point. 'I don't want to continue. I wish he'd just spank me and get it over with,' she prayed silently. She looked up at me, hoping to see at least a trace of sympathy, but my eyes held only amusement at her plight. Even more embarrassed, she moved her hands in front of herself, trying without success to hide from my gaze. "Get those hands behind you! NOW!!" I ordered. Shocked by the harshness of my command, she immediately clasped her hands behind her and straightened up as she had been taught. "That just earned you an extra five, young lady!" Taking a deep breath, she slowly continued her confession. "Well, Sir, I knew I needed to be home early as promised, but instead I stayed out past my bedtime. I know there are consequences for not following the rules, so I'm sure you understand why I was reluctant to confess this to you, Sir." She kept her head down, afraid to let me see into her eyes, hoping against all odds that I'd accept this as a full confession. There was no way I was going to accept this as a full confession! I placed my fingers under her chin and firmly but gently raised her head so she faced me fully...her eyes couldn't help but meet mine. I pierced her soul with the intensity of my gaze...and told her: "You will give me ALL the details of your indiscretions, young lady! And you will do it promptly. Any hesitation will result in more severe discipline. Do you understand me? Now start over from the beginning!" I knew she was powerless to resist me and my will. She was kneeling before me, naked and vulnerable...open to my inspection. She relented and began to describe her behavior to me in a halting voice. She felt like she was going to cry...she didn't like being on her knees...she didn't like being exposed to me...she didn't like the anger that replaced the amusement in my eyes. She didn't want me to know how she disobeyed me and put herself in a potentially dangerous situation. She knew it was stupid and she knew there were consequences...but she didn't want me to think she was stupid. She took yet another deep breath and tried to keep the wobble out of her voice. "We...we went for a ride, Sir. It was a clear and starry night, the moon being dark, the stars were at their brightest," she began again. She related the ride out of the canyon...winding up the hill with Hotel California playing on the radio. Will he believe that we just went out to enjoy the ride? She peeked up at me and saw my eyes staring down at her, staring right through her. She shuddered involuntarily and clasped her hands even more tightly together in front of herself. "We went all the way to town, Sir, and then we turned around and came home." She knew I was waiting for more details...but maybe she shouldn't even mention the Cowboy Bar. After all, it wasn't her idea and she wasn't driving. And besides, they never even went inside! "I know it was stupid, Sir, to go out joyriding like a bunch of teenagers, but it was such a beautiful night. I know there are consequences when I behave irresponsibly, but please, Sir, please forgive me." I knew she was holding out on me. I pursued the truth relentlessly, at her great expense. "You'd better come forward with every detail quickly...or your bottom will force you to scream it out. I'm no longer amused with you. You are turning from a naughty young lady into a stubborn brat very fast. And you know how I treat stubborn brats," I raised my voice.I picked up my black leather paddle and walked behind her. Without warning, the first stroke was delivered to her clenched buns with a SPLAAATT!! "Owwwwww!" "Now, brat, let's have it ALL. And right now! My patience is growing thin!" I told her in a menacing voice. "And keep your hands clasped BEHIND you!" SPLAATT!! Another paddle smack emphasized that I was not kidding now. She gasped in fear...I had never used anything but my hand before. The burn from the first stroke radiated across her cheeks. "Yeowwwww!!!!" The burn from the second swat merges with that from the first and she begins to cry. "I...I'm sorry, Sir. I know I should have told you everything, but I was too ashamed to admit my stupidity to you." I saw her butt cheeks clench in anticipation of another swat, so I mercifully allowed her to continue speaking for now. "I went to the Cowboy Bar, Sir, even though you had forbidden me to go there. But I didn't go inside, Sir." She wanted to stop here, but she realized leaving any unanswered questions would no doubt result in more paddle smacks. Keeping her head down in shame, she continued in a trembling voice. "I didn't go inside, because when we arrived there were Sheriff's cars everywhere. One of the deputies came up to our car and told us to leave. We did just that, Sir, without ever going inside." There, now I knew everything. She began to cry softly, because she knew her punishment was going to be severe. SPLAAATT!! My paddle took her by surprise, sending another burst of stinging heat radiating across her bottom. "WHY did you go to the Cowboy Bar???" "I..I'm sorry, Sir. We went...I mean, I went there to flirt with the cowboys who hang out there." She kept her head lowered. It's bad enough I thought she was a brat...now I also was going to think she was a naughty little slut. "You go out riding with the girls, trying to pick up cowboys, and now you want my mercy?" I asked in an incredulous tone of voice. "And I suppose you don't want me to think of you as a little slut, a common tramp, either?" She sobbed and trembled, but tried to keep her head up so as not to inflame me further. She couldn't help but keep her eyes downcast, though. "No answer, huh?" I asked. 'I'm sorry, Sir! I'm sorry!!!' her heart cried out but her words had no voice. She just knelt there silently. 'I knew this was going to happen...but it wasn't like he makes it sound. It was just an innocent night out with some friends. But that doesn't matter...it only matters that he thinks I'm a tramp,' she thinks to herself. "OK, have it your way. Your first ten spanks will be delivered in this position. I expect you to remain still and maintain your position. Because you reached down before and tried to cover yourself, I'm going to fasten your wrists behind you so you can't do that again." 'Oh, Sir, I really am sorry...I didn't mean to be so disobedient.' Again, her words find no voice and she could only kneel there, completely vulnerable to me. She felt the tears welling up in her eyes again. I took two leather straps and buckled one around each wrist, then I clipped them together behind the small of her back. "There. That should do just fine," I said to myself in a low voice. I walked to her front and pulled up her T-shirt to her shoulders. As I did so, she felt a jolt between her legs. I noticed her white pushup bra fastened in the front, and I took the time to undo the little catch, allowing the cups to fall to the sides. I marveled at her firm, pert breasts and her nipples which were rapidly hardening under my intense gaze. As her breasts were freed, she felt ashamed to feel her nipples harden. 'Will he take this as proof that I'm a naughty tramp?' she wondered. Taking my position behind her, I laid the leather paddle across both of her buttocks and adjusted my aim. The paddle was long enough so I hardly had to bend to reach her posterior. She could still feel the warmth from the earlier smacks. 'I don't think I can take ten with the paddle,' she worried. She started to turn, to plead with me for mercy, but before she can do so, she heard my voice. "Tell me, my darling, why are you here before me today?" I asked, obviously knowing the answer. I always make her state the obvious. "Because I've been naughty by disobeying you, Sir." God, I know how she hates to confess to me. But she realizes that she has to do it to make a clean conscience for herself. But somehow, once she confessed out loud, to me, she was able to shed the guilt that comes with her naughty ways. "What happens to girls when they're naughty and disobey instructions, pet?" "They get spanked, Sir." "And how are they spanked?" She swallowed hard and hesitated just a moment before replying, "They get spanked bare, Sir." "Does my little girl deserve her spanking today?" "Yes, Sir. I deserve a bare spanking for disobeying you. I know I disappointed you. Please give me a good spanking, Sir." She hated to beg for her spankings, but there was no other way to get what she deserved...or so deeply wanted! "Is my Dawn ready to take her paddling?" I asked firmly. The tone in my voice indicated that she WOULD be ready to take her paddling, and no other answer would be acceptable. I knew she really didn't think she was ready for this at all. Nonetheless, she had no will to object. "Ye..yes, Sir." "You know the rules, Miss. You will count each stroke. Missed counts will result in my administering that stroke again. Excessive squirming, protesting or hesitation in counting will earn you extra spanks. Is that clear?" "Yes, Sir," she managed to squeak out. I knew how much she hated counting her spanks, and that's precisely why I made her count. It's an embarrassing and humbling ritual that makes her feel like a little girl. But that's exactly what she needs, since she'd behaved like a little girl. She felt the paddle come away from her bare cheeks and she clenched her buttocks together tightly, waiting for the first smack. She heard the SMAACKK! before she felt it. The force of the strike burned across both cheeks causing her to squirm and gasp. 'I don't think I can take this...but I have to...I have to please him, to show him I really am a good girl!' she resolved. She tried to be still and then remembered, hopefully not too late, and shouted out, "ONE!!" After what seemed like an eternity, she heard the air move again and a second smack covered the first. "Yeowwwwwwwww!!" This was nothing like the hand spankings I'd given her in the past, and she didn't think she could bear it. Remembering to count, she gasped "TWOOOOO!" And then a third SMAACKK!!! resounded, causing her to struggle to keep her balance. "Oh, Sir, Noooooo! Pleeeeeease, no more!!!!!!" My only reply, an even more forceful paddle smack landing right on top of the first three! I knew my aim was good. Choking back a sob, she shouted "Four!" "No, Miss," I said calmly. "Four does not come after two. Try again." And yet another swat found its target causing her to shriek, "THHREEEEEEEE!! Oh, Sir....pleea..." SMAACKKK!!! "FIIIIIIVE!!! Nooooooooooooo......please no more...." Her ass cheeks were burning with a pain more intense than anything she'd ever felt before. She wondered now if she could stand five more. And so it continued, as I administered each smack with more force and unerring aim. By the time the count reached eight, she was unable to be still, her hips writhing in an effort to avoid my paddle. SMAAACKKK!!! "NIIINE!!!" she shrieked in reply, and then, unable to control herself, she lowered her bound hands and tried to protect her burning cheeks. SMAAACKKK!!! I aimed low, sending a searing pain across the tops of her thighs. "YOWWWWWW!!!! Oh Sir, please, i'msorryi'msorryi'm sorry..." she sobbed uncontrollably as she quickly removed her hands from my target. Before she remembered to count I said in a low, firm voice "That little stunt just earned you two additional strokes, Miss. The count will resume at ten and continue to twelve." I continued the punishment, each of the remaining strokes coming with more force, until the last swat, more powerful than the rest, knocked her forward. She made no effort to get up...she couldn't...the throbbing pain was too overpowering. Her hips were gyrating wildly, trying to somehow shake off the heat of the paddling. With her forehead on the floor and her hands still held behind her, her bottom was pointing right up at me. In embarrassment, she realized how exposed she was and tried to move her legs closer together, becoming aware for the first time of the moisture starting to drip down her inner thighs. As I moved in front of her to watch her face, I saw now how naughty my little Dawn was by what was happening between her legs. I spread her legs a bit and ran my index finger softly up and down her outer pussy lips, tickling the little brown hairs guarding her private place. I worked my finger into the slit and ran it up and down, soaking it in her lady juices, which allowed me to slip my finger ever so slightly inside her lips. I plunged my index finger into her pussy, then followed it with the middle one. I could feel her so warm, wet and slippery. I let my fingers rest there, savoring her discomfort. I finally withdrew them slowly, finding her swollen clit on the way out. I caressed her little nub, and slid my fingers in small circles around it, making her squirm. She knew I wouldn't let her find release yet. Her spanking wasn't over. "Aren't you forgetting something, Miss?" I asked with disdain. "Sir, I...I..." she faltered. "What happened during your scolding before? Did you think I was going to forget? You were going to let me forget, weren't you, pet?" I drilled into her. "Oh, no, Sir, really I wasn't.I was going to remind you that I earned five extra spanks for moving my hands in front of me," she quickly recited. "I know I did wrong and I want to be punished for that. Please spank me, Sir. I deserve the extra five." Pleased that she was sufficiently contrite, I pulled her up to her feet and walked her over to the bed. I pulled all three pillows to the center and stacked them one on top of the other. "OK, Dawn, I want you face down with your hips over the pillows. Center yourself so your hips are raised as high as they can go," I instructed her. I helped her into position and had her raise her hips slightly so I could adjust the pillows beneath her. As a last measure, I spread her legs wide and fastened soft leather cuffs to each ankle. With two leather straps, the cuffs were attached to each bedpost at the foot of the bed, splaying her legs as wide as they could go. With her hands fastened behind her back, she was unable to squirm out of position, leaving me free to go fetch the Vick's from the dresser. "My dear, your last five strokes are going to be special. I want to impress upon you the consequences of disobedience. I want you to stay still, no matter what. It'll all be over soon," I explained without telling her the details of what was to come. Standing at the head of the bed where she could watch, I unscrewed the cap from the blue jar and dipped a long cotton-tipped wooden swab into it, twirling it conspicuously. When I extracted it, I made sure she could see a glob of clear, thick gel sitting at the end of the cotton tip. "Please, Sir, I don't need that today. I promise I will never disobey you again. Please!!" "Quiet, little one. This is what I've decided you will endure, and that's final. I expect you to take your entire punishment with good grace." She resigned herself to the fact that I would not be dissuaded from administering the full treatment. She couldn't believe this was happening again! I knew how much she hated the Vick's treatment. 'Was I really that bad? I don't think so, but obviously he does. All I wanted was to be turned over his knee...why does he think I need so much more?' she thought, silently biting her lower lip. She watched me. She couldn't move. She figured if she didn't speak, maybe she'd get through this without earning even more punishment. She watched me standing at the head of the bed, displaying the innocent looking swab about to cause her so much discomfort. She noticed the gel glistening on the tip. She didn't feel any fear or even any real interest...'this must be happening to someone else,' she thought. Though disconnected from herself, she was surprised to feel the joy emanating between her legs. Impossible! She felt her fears draining away, leaving her sort of 'in neutral' as she waited for me to begin. 'I can't be finding pleasure in this punishment! With my legs spread and bound, and my hands fastened behind my back, I must look like the girls in the naughty magazines they sell at the liquor store!' she fretted silently. Her mind refused to accept that she was aroused...so aroused that she might cum at any second! Suddenly I smiled, and slowly began to walk to the foot of the bed... Sitting next to her on the bed, I spread her buttocks apart right where her anus lies. Keeping my eye on her little brown rosebud, I aimed the swab directly into the center. She felt the cool gel make contact with her sensitive skin, then felt the coated cotton tip push slowly past her outer entrance. I had to twist the swab back and forth to work it into her anal area. Once inside about an inch, I twirled it and moved it in small circles to be sure to coat the membranes just inside. I pushed it in and out several times. Finally, as I withdrew it for the last time, I carefully painted every little crease and crevice of her puckered area with the Vick's. She could feel the swab touch and tickle her sensitive area and she couldn't help but squirm. My hand and fingers holding her buttocks apart held her still, however. In just a few seconds, the Vick's took effect, making her bottom feel at once cool and warm, the sensation some describe as "icy hot." This sensation, coupled with the cool room air, made her clench and unclench her cheeks in order to get some relief. After a moment to let it take it's full effect, I announced that she was ready for her final five spanks. With one arm, I encircled her waist and pulled her in tight. My hand rested on her bottom, marking the spot where her spanking would begin. SLAAPPP!!! The first spank struck her left cheek. "OWWWW!!" she shouted. "Oh, please, Sir, not too hard..." I waited a little in between spanks to let each one sink in before stimulating her with the next one. SLAAPPP!!! "TWO!" "I'm sorry Miss, but you forgot to count the first spank. So we have to start again, I'm afraid," I sighed with annoyance. SLAAPPP!!! "ONE!" "THAT'S better," I said. SLAAPPP!!! "TWO...Ohhhh..." And so it went for the full five spanks, each one on alternate cheeks. Finally, it was over. The echo of her last count faded from the room as I let her lie there, bottom high, softly sobbing into the bedsheets. I unbuckled her ankle cuffs and allowed her to close her legs in a futile attempt to regain her modesty. I took some Kleenex and wiped the remaining Vick's from between her ass cheeks, and with a new tissue, wiped the juices flowing from her pussy down her thighs. She sighed and pushed her hips up to meet my hand as I gently cleansed her private areas, no longer caring what I could see. After a soothing application of scented massage lotion, I applied baby powder to her pelvic area, smoothing the fragrant talc over her buttocks, around the outside of her genitals and in between her thighs. "OK, Dawn, it's time for you to rest. Come along, now," I said as I helped her up from her spanking platform. I walked her to her room and slowly helped her undress, removing her T-shirt and bra. I ran my hands over her curvy body, noticing how firm and smooth it was. I pulled her toward me and placed her arms around my neck, making her reach up slightly to do that. I wrapped my arms around her and gave her a big kiss and a hug. As I nibbled on her ear, I told her that she was forgiven. "You've paid the price for your misbehavior, Dawn. Your punishment is over. I forgive you," I whispered as I hugged her tight. "Thank you, Sir. I'm really sorry. I'll try to be the best girl in the world for you from now on," she replied, returning my squeeze. "OK, into bed with you, honey," I said as I released her and gave her a little swat on the bottom. I watched her slide beneath the covers and nestle her head into the pillow. I smoothed the blankets over her and tucked them in at the edges, making a nice snug enclosure for her. She looked at me dreamily, her eyes half closed, as I kissed her on the cheek. "Get some rest. I'll be back in just a little while," I told her. She watched me turn off the lights and close the door...knowing I would return shortly and slip silently in beside her.... END

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/10875.txt

Phloighd

Mystery Flasher 2: The Return

"Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin' alive, hi, ha-hai, ive, haa yehaa-aah!" I put my head in my hands to try to escape Vaughn's Bee Gees routine, and the round of stares and giggles it had brought from the crowd of teenagers nearby. It was early Saturday evening, and I was in for the long haul at the music section of the bookstore. In no shape to deal with customers or my coworkers' insanities was I; five-thirty and I *still* felt hungover, having put away most of a bottle of Malibu at Lou's housewarming party the night before. But I got no sympathy. Customers seemed to speak louder than necessary on purpose, as if they knew my pain and wanted to torment me. My new coworker, Vaughn, I had no question about; he definitely wanted to torment me. Ever since he discovered the "Saturday Night Fever" soundtrack in our "in-store play" pile, he'd blast it at every opportunity. "Hi, Jack." I looked between my fingers to see a dark, long-haired beauty looking over her shoulder at me. I had no idea who she was, but she looked ultra-fine. Her jean shorts were rolled halfway up her calf, exposing long, tanned legs. The vest she wore over the small green T-shirt was short and sexy. A second later when my eyes reached her face, she grinned and started walking away. With a start I realized it was her, the girl who'd freaked the hell out of me three weeks ago. That face had been grafted onto my memory! Despite the long black hair, I was sure it was her. She must have been wearing a wig, but it looked very real. Not a few men gazed at her as she sashayed towards the art section, possibly noting as I had that she probably wasn't wearing panties. I couldn't see her face but I knew she was still grinning, knowing exactly what that walk did to guys like me. Folks who can appreciate beauty, yeah, that's it. "Jeez, man, where do you know her from?" Vaughn poked me. "She's a customer, you pervert." He was caught in mid-twirl, twisted around to look at my mysterious playmate. "Damn, Vaughn, put your tongue back in your mouth, wouldja? You're gonna get caught looking one day." "Yeah, you will too, homes. You're worse than me. What about that Indian girl, the other night, what was her name --" "Riva," I said absently as I continued to watch my temptress in disguise as she asked another coworker to retrieve a book from the overstock bins above the shelves. Somehow I knew she was leaning forward a bit, waiting for him to glance downwards. "Yeah, Riva, or something, the one who got you to wrap all those books for her, individually, in different kinds of paper, 'cause she said you have great hair... Yer a sucker for a pretty face, dude. She was fine, though." "Uh huh, sure was," I repeated, eyeing the perfect way her asscheeks bulged oh-so-slightly, thinking of how they'd feel in my hands -- "Sir, excuse me, could you point out the Contemporary Christian section?" I bit the inside of my cheek hard to regain focus, and proceeded to find Andy Griffith's "Heaven's Over That Way, Stupid" or whathaveyou for another of the masses. Let someone else get theirs, I figured, she'll be back or she won't. Besides, not much could happen; I was supposed to be making sure that no heavy metal, rap or Judy Garland discs walked out the door, and it was doubtful she'd flash her bare breasts on a crowded Saturday night. Still, as I led customers through the store to find their Bach or B-52's I'd catch a glimpse of her, usually talking to some older male with a half-smile on dark red lips. The crowd gradually thinned and grew as the hours passed. Shortly before eight I announced the concert in the cafe, "Roughneck Susie and her Cacaphonous Cajuns," with as much of a straight face as I could muster. As I was winding up I caught sight of her, walking towards me with a big smile. "...That's in fifteen minutes, folks, in our cafe." When she leaned against the desk I noticed she wasn't wearing a bra. "We'll see both of your, uhm, we'll see you there!" I blurted, slamming down the phone without hitting the release key, making a loud click-thump over the intercom. She burst out laughing, turned and walked away quickly. I was torn between diving for cover and watching her leave when laughter behind me caught my attention. Danni was giggling as she bounced to the desk. "I know exactly what happened to you," she grinned, poking me. Danni was a new coworker in books, short, full of energy, gay, and cute. From comments that she'd made I judged we had the same tastes in women. "You saw her, didn't you?" "Who?" I said innocently. "Your great-grandmother looking at the gay video guides?" She poked me again. "No, dummy, the girl in the vest. She's in here a lot. She's wearing a wig. I've seen her tease men all the time." "Yeah? What does she do?" I attempted to catch sight of her again with no avail. "Her usual thing is to wear sexy clothes, but one time I saw her brush her tits against some guy's back as she went around him. She's pretty hot, eh?" Danni babbled quietly. "Usually she's with some friends, but I think she's here alone tonight. I saw her come in when I had a smoke. I wish I had legs like that, either on me or around me --" "Okay, enough," I said as my dick began to bulge in my jeans. "I got work to do, here, you lazy girl." I tried to sound menacing as I picked up some discs to shelve, but she was still laughing as she walked away. "Try to control yourself," she whispered just before a customer asked her for help. Though I began to work diligently, the image of Danni and my temptress making out kept flashing into my thoughts. My embarrassing erection was difficult to disguise; keeping a basketful of music to shelve at my waist, I kept returning to the desk to get more CDs so as not to reveal my condition. Vaughn stayed at the desk to help customers, and glanced over at me periodically to wonder why I was working so hard. Suddenly I turned to find her standing in front of me, looking flushed. She leaned in close. "Take a break. Now. Go out and get in the blue microbus. Quick." Without waiting for my reaction she began to almost run for the front door. I returned to the desk and dropped the basket on the floor. "I'm taking a break, Vaughn," I said, as he fooled around with the computer. He nodded and I made my way to the front door as quickly and inconspicuously as possible, hoping my supervisor wouldn't notice me taking my third smoke break. The VW, a blue microbus that showed its age, was on the side of the building in a long row of cars. I glanced around, then walked to its door. It was locked, and I saw no one inside, but the door opened. She leaned out and dragged me into the backseat, then closed the door. She scooted in beside me, then lay backwards. She'd taken off her shorts, and I took in the musky scent of her sex. With one leg she pushed me against the far wall, the other thrown wide into the front seat. Her hands moved to her engorged lips and pushed in and out with a slurping noise. She writhed on the seat and moaned. "Your little screwup got me all crazy," she gasped, rubbing her clit with one hand and grabbing her breast with the other. "Suck my cunt, Jack, make me come on your face. Suck it now," she moaned. I pushed her leg aside and dove in, sucking both lips into my mouth with abandon. I love eating pussy, and hers tasted sweet. I realized that the taste was actually mingled with honey, and I glanced to her side to see a small squirt bottle of it. I groaned and lapped at her. She moaned louder, and louder still as I thrust my tongue in and out of her. She was soaking wet, and I lapped up her juices with loving care. "God that feels good, it's so good, does it taste good Jack?" "Mmm, exquisite," I agreed, nibbling on her clit gently before sucking it and rolling my tongue around it. Her hands went to my head, holding me firmly at her crotch as she ground against me. "I've been turned on for hours, watching guys get all horny looking at my ass, at my tits...""These tits here?" I inquired, grabbing her breasts firmly through her shirt before returning to flick at her clit. "Oh yeah, you naughty boy, those tits there have been stared at all night, making my nipples hard..." I continued to suck her clit but began moving my thumbs gently across her nipples, which were very hard. She jerked her head, making the wig fall out of place. "This one kid has been following me around all night," she murmured as she twisted her head back and forth. "He's not even fourteen, but he knows enough to lust after a hot piece of ass... His cock got all hard when I'd squat to look at a book, he'd get behind me and watch my ass..." I brought my hands back to her crotch. As I pressed my thumb against her sphincter, I pushed two fingers into her dripping pussy with ease, which elicited a sharp gasp. "I bet you wanted to push me over the desk and fuck me hard right in front of everybody, Jack, and I might have let you, I'm so hot," she continued, her voice rising steadily. "All night all I've been thinking about is dragging you back here to suck my wet pussy just, like, that, oh, Jack, don't, stop, just, like that, oh," she gasped as the steady rhythm brought her off, shaking the van and screaming like a banshee. She pushed my face into her pussy, rubbing her juices all over my face. Her pussy clenched around my fingers as she peaked. Finally, she released the deathgrip on my hair and sighed, grinning. As she calmed down, I realized how horribly vulnerable I was, that if I was caught I'd surely be fired, but that I didn't care. But my reverie was broken when she lifted me up, grabbed her shorts from the floor, and yanked them on. "I better get going, I'm gonna be late," she said nonchalantly. I was flabbergasted. "That's it?" I said quietly. "You've got somewhere to be?" "Yeah, I've got a date," she said in a matter-of-fact tone. "We'll have to do this again sometime," she said with a glance at me before rooting on the floor for her keys. "Yeah," I said. I was numb. The pulsing in my cock was echoing in my brain like a car alarm. She sat back and looked over at me innocently. "What's wrong, Jack? Something bothering you?" She smiled. Suddenly I realized the game she was playing, what she wanted me to do. At least I hoped so, because I didn't want to piss her off if I was wrong. But I forged ahead. "I'll tell you what the problem is," I growled. I quickly grabbed her shoulders and bent her over, pressing her face against my crotch. "You feel that? You did that to me. Now you're gonna do something about it." She rubbed her face on the front of my jeans, against the lump of my cock. "I'm sure you know just what to do, don't you?" Unbuttoning my jeans, she pulled down the zipper and took out my dick. She roughly jerked it and smiled up at me. "This what you want?" she whispered, her eyes sparkling in the dim light. She pulled my pants down further and cupped my balls, squeezing gently as she continued to pull at my cock. "No, that won't do," I murmured, taking her head in my hands and guiding her lips to my shaft. Moaning, she tongued the head with quick swirling strokes before slowly sucking it in. "Yeah, that's it, I want what every guy who saw you tonight wants, I want to come down your throat and that's what you want too, isn't it, you want me to shoot off in your mouth..." She suddenly swooped down, taking it all in, and I grabbed her hair to fuck her face in earnest. Moaning, she began to suck harder as I helped her increase the speed of her motions. As she squeezed my balls, I felt the orgasm hit me like a freight train; she began sucking the cum from the head of my cock as she looked up at me, and I was totally thrown into another level as my cock spurted into her mouth. She swallowed repeatedly as I returned to earth, finally sitting back to wipe at a corner of her mouth. Catching some semen on one finger, she flicked it at me to land on my cheek. I sat breathing hard, staring at her. "You'll make me late, you naughty man." She yanked my pants back up and pulled up the zipper. "I really do have a date." "But... Let me take you out sometime," I blurted. She smiled sweetly. "Maybe. But not tonight. This bus has gotta roll, so move it, sucker." She opened the side door and began pulling me out of my stupor. "Okay... What's your phone number?" I babbled as I stumbled out the door. "Nuh-uh," she closed it and shook her head. "That comes later. You did good, but there's more. We'll see how you hold up." She jumped into the driver's seat and started the VW. With no fanfare at all, she pulled away just as I remembered something. "Wait, what is your NAME?" I shouted, but she beeped the horn and continued driving away. I sighed, then remembered the cum on my face. Reaching up to wipe it off, I spied Danni leaning against the wall having a cigarette. She was grinning from ear to ear. "I thought I told you to control yourself," she accused. "How much did you hear?" I walked over to her. She grinned even wider. "Enough to need to go spend some quality time in the bathroom."

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/8086.txt

Ann Douglas

Awakenings

"That was simply the best play I've ever seen." Kathryn said as they exited the theater. "It was good wasn't it," Yolanda smiled. "I'm so glad you enjoyed it. "So what's next?" Kathryn asked. "I guess that's up to you." Yolanda said. "After all, this is your night, isn't it?" Glancing up at the now dark night sky, Kathryn considered for a moment that she really should be heading home. As it was, she wouldn't get there until well after midnight. "Is there somewhere we can go and get a drink?" she asked instead. "Well, there are a few nice places in the neighborhood," Yolanda said in response. "But they're all likely to be pretty packed on a Saturday night." "Oh, I really wanted to have a drink and maybe talk some." Kathryn pouted. Yolanda took a few long moments to think about it. Long enough for Kathryn to start framing another question. One that was cut off as Yolanda finally spoke. "Well if you really want to talk," the olive-skinned woman said with a little hesitation. "I supposed we could go back to my apartment, it's only about twelve blocks from here. I'm sure I have something we could have as a nightcap too." "That's a fabulous idea!" Kathryn gushed with enthusiasm. "Let's go!" she added as she took Yolanda by the arm. "All right," Yolanda surrendered. "But it's this way." she said, turning both of them northward. "My, this is nice," Kathryn said as she looked up at the old brownstone her friend had led her to. "Which floor do you live on?" she asked. "Actually, I live on all of them." Yolanda replied. "All of them?" Kathryn repeated as she looked up at the three-story building. "How can you afford that, the rent must be incredible." "I sort of own the building." Yolanda said as she slid a key from her bag and put it into the lock of the first-floor door. "Me and First City Bank that is." Stepping inside, Yolanda turned on the light and led Kathryn inside. The large room that took up much of the first floor had been made into a combination office and workroom, filled with several computers and peripherals. "What's all this?" Kathryn asked. "This is Southstar Enterprises." Yolanda replied as she checked for any new email on one of the active terminals. "This is what I do when I'm not consulting." "You run your own company too?" Kathryn asked. "Sweetheart, I am my own company." Yolanda smiled. "President, Mailroom Clerk and Chief Bottle Washer. Which is why the job I'm doing for Moore and Ryan will be my last for a while. Southstar is finally beginning to take off and I'm going to devote myself to it full time for a while." "Can you afford to do that?" Kathryn asked curiously. Wondering if she'd ever get the chance to do anything like that. "I can't afford not to," Yolanda said as she guided Kathryn to the staircase leading to the second floor. "Not if I ever want to break out from the pack." By the time they reached the second floor, Yolanda had changed the subject. Kathryn still had at least a dozen questions about what she had seen downstairs, but there would be time for that later. "Is white wine okay with you?" Yolanda asked as she stepped into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. "That would be fine." Kathryn said as she looked around the simply furnished living room. She couldn't help but compare it to her little apartment over her parent's garage. "I fixed us a little snack too." Yolanda said as she came out of the kitchen with a tray filled with three kinds of cheese and the wine. "It looks delicious." Kathryn said as she picked up one of the wine glasses and took a sip. "This is also very good." she added. "Would you like to hear some music?" Yolanda asked as she turned on the bookcase stereo. As the soft sounds filled the air, Yolanda sat down next to Kathryn and took a taste of her own wine. "Now there was something that you wanted to talk about?" Yolanda asked as she put her glass down on the small coffee table. Kathryn took a long taste of her wine. Now that she was where she thought she wanted to be, she hesitated. Long silent moments passed as the redhead collected her thoughts. Moments that Yolanda just sat there, she was in no hurry. "We don't have to talk." Yolanda said with a small smile. "We can just sit here and enjoy the wine and music." So for the next ten minutes, that was exactly what they did. "I think I love you." Kathryn suddenly blurted out. "Really?" Yolanda said quietly as she took another small sip of wine. "And how long have you felt this way?" "I'm not sure," came the reply. "A while I think, but I didn't realize it until today." Yolanda took another sip of wine, giving Kathryn a moment to consider what she was saying. "Have you ever had feelings for another woman before?" Yolanda asked. Kathryn quickly told her about Sally and her brief introduction into female sex. The telling brought back that same warmth between her legs. "That's lust, not love." Yolanda noted. "Not that there's anything wrong with that at times." "And I have had feelings for some of my girlfriends too." Kathryn added. "Ever tell any of them about it?" Yolanda asked as she moved just a little bit closer. "No," Kathryn said. "I didn't think any of them would've understood. "Not even Angela?" Yolanda asked as she took the wine glass from Kathryn hand and put it down on the table next to hers. "Definitely not Angela!" Kathryn said quickly. "Pity," Yolanda mused. "She's got dynamite tits." she laughingly added. The comment caught Kathryn off guard. Then, picturing the number of times she'd seen Angela's big nippled breasts in the flesh, she had to agree with Yolanda's assessment. "I guess she does." Kathryn smiled. "But I'm glad she's not here," Yolanda said as she leaned toward Kathryn. "And that you are." And then their lips met...wetness engulf her stiff nipple, bringing back the memory of Sally's touch from so long ago. The memory quickly faded in the face of reality and the knowledge that Sally was a rank amateur next to Yolanda. With only one nipple exposed, Yolanda took her time. Her tongue darting to and fro, tracing wide circles around the pink nipple. Then she would tickle it directly before taking it whole into her mouth again. "Oh, this feels so good." Kathryn moaned as she laid back with her eyes closed and just enjoyed the feel of Yolanda's attentions. "Let's see how you like this?" Yolanda said as she picked up the closest wine glass and poured just a little of it on the center of Kathryn's breast. "Oh yes!" Kathryn gasped as Yolanda licked up all traces of the wine. A few minutes later, Yolanda exposed the other pale white breast and repeated her performance. Sending Kathryn further into a blissful state. Finally satisfied. Yolanda turned her attention away from her new playthings and kissed Kathryn again. This time the kiss was brief, just enough to signal a temporary end to their play. "I want to try that on you." Kathryn said excitedly, wondering what it would be like to taste another woman's breasts. "Oh you will soon enough, my new love." Yolanda said as she planted another kiss, this time on the cheek. "But I think we should be practical for a moment." Kathryn looked at Yolanda for a moment. A puzzled look on her face. "This has already gone far beyond what I think either of us had planned." Yolanda said. "Not that I'm complaining, mind you. But if you do plan to stay here, I think it might be a good idea if you called home and told them." The call home only took a few minutes. Virginia Gray agreed with her daughter's decision to spend the night at her friend's house. It was far too late for her to be riding the subway and buses home. A wicked smile formed on Kathryn's face as she spoke, imagining what her mother's reaction would be if she could see her right now. Standing in the center of the living room, her dress still down around her waist with her breasts hanging free. Her nipples still wet from the kiss of her new lover. Virginia started to suggest to her daughter that she try to get home early in the morning and have brunch with Eric, but Kathryn quickly dismissed that idea. "I'll probably have breakfast here, Mom." Kathryn said, bringing the conversation to a quick close. "I'll see you tomorrow afternoon. Bye." No sooner had Kathryn put down the phone when she felt Yolanda's arms close around her from behind. The older woman pulled tight against her and brought her hands up to cup Kathryn's breasts, rubbing her fingers against the stiff nipples. "Mmmm." Kathryn said softly as she closed her eyes and cherished the warmth of the embrace. Still holding her tight, Yolanda kissed Kathryn's neck, then her cheek, then finally ran her tongue along the inner edge of the redhead's ear. Kathryn wanted this moment to last a lifetime, she felt so warm and secure. The only thing that made it's passing bearable was the knowledge that it would only get better. Yolanda turned Kathryn around and kissed her softly a few more times. She took Kathryn's hands in her own and guided them up under the bottom of her blouse, pressing them against her own breasts. Kathryn squeezed them softly, feeling Yolanda's nipples through the thin material of her own bra. With practiced skill, Yolanda undid the buttons of her blouse, letting it fall open, giving her friend a much better look at her endowments. Then, just as quickly, she undid the front clasp of her bra and let it fall free into Kathryn's hands. Wasting no time, Kathryn let the material drop away, quickly placing her hands back on the now exposed flesh. It felt so warm to her touch. "Can I kiss them?" she asked softly. "Of course you can, darling." Yolanda said with a smile. "You can do anything that you want." Yolanda lifted one of her breasts and offered it as a gift to Kathryn. She leaned down and kissed the center of the dark silver dollar she had admired in the theater. Unlike her own breasts, Yolanda's were all one hue, a combination of her nature color and a proclivity for nude sunbathing. Her large nipples and wide areola where a dark brown, several shade darkener than the surrounding skin. Kathryn tickled the stiff nipple with her tongue, before taking it into her mouth. "Yesss," Yolanda moaned as she felt the wet embrace of Kathryn's mouth. "You do that well." In reply, Kathryn let the hard nub slip from her lips and ran her tongue across the wide circle a few more times before taking it again fully into her mouth. Back in college she had regretted the fact that she had never had the chance to taste Sally's breasts. Tonight she was going to make up for that and much more. After a few more minutes of play , Yolanda shifted her other mound to Kathryn's eager mouth to give her neophyte lover a chance to feast on that as well. As she worked her way across this new morsel, Kathryn was intoxicated by the erotic combination of Yolanda's natural scent and the perfume she wore. In was strongest in the deep, dark valley between her breasts, a place the twenty-three year old was quickly becoming very familiar with. When she was satisfied that Kathryn had enjoyed herself enough for the moment, Yolanda lifted both her breasts and rubbed them against Kathryn's own. They kissed as their nipples rubbed against each other, their tongues becoming one. "I want you," Kathryn panted as she broke the kiss. "Right here, right now." "I have a better idea my love," Yolanda said in reply as she ran her tongue across Kathryn's red lips. "We have all night, and I want this to be special for you." As she spoke, she slipped her hand down and under the hem of Kathryn's dress. Sliding between the band of her panties, her fingers came to rest on the redhead's wet mound. Yolanda rubbed against the lightly haired bush, sliding her index finger up into Kathryn's tunnel of love. Back and forth she moved it, just enough to give Kathryn a quick thrill. Then, just as quickly, she removed her hand completely from her panties and brought it up to her face. Even in the lamp light, Kathryn could see the shiny residue of her excitement on the tanned index finger. "Hmmmm," Yolanda purred as she slid the outstretched finger between her lips and licked it clean. "I do so love a little appetizer before the main course." she laughed. Kathryn smiled back, wondering what it would be like to taste Yolanda's nectar. A question that she knew would be answered in a very short time. "I want to give you a few minutes to catch your breath," Yolanda abruptly said. "To give you one last chance to decide if this is what you really want." Kathryn opened her mouth to say something but was stilled as Yolanda placed her index finger against her open lips. She could easily smell her own scent filling her nostrils. It was a heady aroma. "Don't say anything," Yolanda continued. "I want you to wait here and finish your wine. Wait fifteen minutes, then if you're still sure, follow me upstairs. I'll be waiting for you." With that, Yolanda broke the embrace and headed up the wrought iron circular staircase and disappeared onto the third floor. The quiet swing of the pendulum on the wall clock counted off each of those fifteen minutes as Kathryn sat and finished her wine. The drink only added to the warmth that still filled her body. The soft caress of Yolanda's lips against her own still tingled, more so those against her breasts. In her heart, she felt more sixteen than twenty- three, more like a virgin than an experienced lover. Deep within her, Kathryn could hear a small voice calling out to her. It was the voice of caution, urging her to take a large step backwards and carefully examine what she was about to do. That voice was balanced by that of her soul, filled with the fire of suddenly realized dreams. At that moment Kathryn recalled her dream of the night before. Only this time she could see the face of her lover. It was a face she had caressed so lovingly only ten minutes before. The wall clock chimed the quarter hour, and Kathryn put her now empty wine glass down on the table. She looked up at the staircase leading to the third floor and decided to follow the voice of her soul and dreams.

Part Four

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/14454.txt

Delta

Hotsprings

"Here's the software you asked for, Kathy. You really think it will make a difference?" Big Jake looked at the box he was holding for a second before handing it to Kat. He had come around the desk to hand it to her, ensuring that the combination of his height and her being seated would give him a good look down the top of her dress. Kat recognized this and smiled demurely up at him. "It will give us an easy way to track expenses by categories. We'll have a much better grip on where the money is going and where it is coming from. Yes, it will make a difference, Big Jake," Kat answered. Big Jake didn't look especially happy about that. Perhaps it was the cost of the software, perhaps it was something else. Kat decided she would redouble her efforts to sort out the mess that comprised the books of Hotsprings Campsite. "It will also save a lot of time, time which can then be spent on other things. Basically, you'll be saving the salary of one employee." "Anything else you need me for, just now?" Big Jake moved back around the desk, twirling his keys around his finger. "I strained my back a little and I think I'll take a dip in the pool then have a little rest before dinner," he explained. "No, thanks Big Jake. You've been a big help. I may have more questions later, but for now I have my work cut out for me." Kat was looking at the papers and books which covered the desk, yet was well aware of the long looks Big Jake was lavishing on her breasts. It was difficult not to smile. "Kat?" Stacy was at the door. "Yes, Stacy." "Here's the salad you wanted." Stacy squeezed past Big Jake, who made no effort to give her more room, and placed the salad on the desk. Kat dismissed her, and she squeezed her way back out past Big Jake. He had moved fractionally to give her even less room on the way out, causing her breasts to lightly brush against his arm as she went past. Kat could see Stacy's jaw was tight. She would have to do something about this - soon. Big Jake would have to learn to back off where her people were concerned. She couldn't have distractions like this disrupting the subtle training which was going on. Her eyes were mild, however, as she looked up at Big Jake, whose glance had followed Stacy out of the room. "Well, I'd better get at it. I hope your back gets better fast, Big Jake." Big Jake was licking his lips as he turned his attention back to her and gave a wave. "Thanks, Kathy." He turned and left, giving Stacy a long look as he passed the counter on his way to the door. "Stacy." "Yes, Kat?" She had arrived at the door in seconds. She was learning. Kat looked up from the computer which wasn't cooperating with her at all. The damn program wouldn't function. She'd never had any problem with it before in other places. "Where's Fred?" "He should be doing prep for the supper hour, Kat." Stacy was nervous. She didn't know why Kat elicited that response in her. All she knew was that she had to keep on her toes at all times. "Ask him to come here." "Yes, Kat." She turned to go. "And Stacy..." Stacy turned back. "Stacy, all this desk work has me a little stiff again. We'll close the office for a half hour when you bring Fred back." Stacy looked down and blushed. "Yes, Kat." Her voice was subdued. Stacy left to do Kat's bidding. It was a beautiful day outside, yet she didn't notice it. Her mind was on the previous night. Kat had returned, from wherever it was she had gone, complaining that she was stiff. Stacy had been in the process of winding down her day when Kat had come through the door. Again Stacy had noticed the almost regal bearing of the smaller woman. There was something about her which made you step back and take notice. She was a woman accustomed to giving orders.However, the job she was doing didn't suit Kat's standards, for she began directing Stacy where and how to stroke. It was fortunate, Stacy thought, that she had quite an aptitude for learning. Kat didn't seem the patient type. The feel of Kat's skin under her hands had been a little exciting. Eliciting the moans from her even more so. Every time Kat gave any indication of enjoying the work Stacy was doing, Stacy felt her heart leap. If she were able to keep Kat happy, Kat would keep Tom away. At last Kat had dismissed her, not even thanking her. It had been hard work and she had been sweating by the end of it. She went to her room to take a shower. "Hi, Stacy, what's up?" Fred's voice brought her back to the present. "Kat would like to see you in the inner office as soon as you can manage it." "And she sent you to tell me?" Fred was a little indignant. "What's wrong with her, broken a leg? I have half a mind to get you to tell her to come herself if she wants to talk to me. Does she think I have nothing better to do?" Stacy became visibly agitated. "Please come, Fred. Don't send me back with that message. Please?" Fred relented. It wasn't Stacy with whom he was angry. "Okay, Stacy, I'll come along and see what it is Kat wants." Stacy looked pathetically grateful. "Is it worth it, Stacy?" She was confused. "Is what worth it?" "Your relationship with Kat. I don't like seeing you so worried about what she might think." He patted her on the shoulder kindly as she led him out the door. "She's protecting me, Fred. It feels so good to know that she cares about me, better to know that Tom will be leaving me alone." "That sort of protection carries a price-tag. Is it worth it?" "She's good to me," Stacy began defending Kat. "I'm not saying otherwise, Stacy. All I am asking is, is it worth the price?" "Yes." The word was spoken defiantly. "Then it's okay. I'd just hate to see you get hurt." Fred's voice was mild. "You're sweet, Fred, but I know what I'm doing." Stacy wondered if she did, but wasn't going to admit that. They walked into the office and Fred went to the inner office while Stacy returned to her desk. "Ah, Fred, do you know anything about computers?" Kat asked him. "I can't get this program up and working. I figured you would probably have some ideas." The woman had some cheek - calling him in on the off chance he knew about computers. If he didn't, then the whole trip was a waste of time. Who the hell did she think she was? He nodded to himself - of course. It's what she would do, being who she was. "I know a little. Let me take a look." Kat vacated her seat for him and he sat down. She sat on the edge of the desk and watched him carefully, as if she were studying him. Which she probably was, he thought, grimly. Ten minutes later he was finished. He stood and relinquished the chair. "You had an irq conflict and not enough memory. I resolved the conflict and loaded DOS and a few other things high. It should solve the problem." He turned to go. "You did that well, and quickly." Kat was thoughtful. "Why are you here?" "Because you asked me," he replied innocently, well aware that his answer wasn't to the question she had asked. "You asked me at a time when I was quite busy with my duties. I came. You owe me for that." He grinned to himself. "And what would you like to square the debt?" Kat asked him. She was fishing for information, he knew. "Oh, I'm sure I'll think of something," he said in an offhand manner and left her scowling behind him. Did she think he'd be that easy? Big Jake was walking down the boardwalk and he waved to him before returning to the kitchen. Big Jake walked into the office, looking much more relaxed. His hair was still wet and was combed straight back. "Well, Stacy, you're sure looking good today." He leered at her. "Thank you, Big Jake," Stacy blushed and looked down. "You ought to try one of those push-up bras - I think it'd look real good on you - maybe one of those half-cups." "Big Jake," Stacy began plaintively, "please." "Here." He tossed her something, but it fell short, landing on the floor. He stood waiting. "Go, on, pick it up, it's for you." He had purposely thrown it short so she would have to bend down to pick it up. Stacy looked around for help, but there was none forthcoming. Her face was red and she felt humiliated. She moved to pick up the souvenir pin, for that was what it was, she now saw. "MISTER Saunders." Stacy looked up to see Kat standing like an avenging angel. Her heart began to beat faster. "Mister Saunders. That is sexual harassment, and I cannot allow it to continue." Her eyes were bright with the prospect of battle. Stacy thrilled to her words and backed up out of the line of fire, so to speak. "Aw, come on, Kathy, it's all in fun." "From where I stand it doesn't look much like fun for Stacy. I don't think it's very funny either. It will stop Mr. Saunders. It will stop now." Kat was all aglow, Stacy thought. She was enjoying the confrontation, where Stacy would have been paralyzed. "Now look here, Kathy . . ." Big Jake was becoming angry, but Kat interrupted him before he could finish what he had begun. "No. You look, Mister Saunders. If it doesn't cease, I'm afraid there will be a sexual harassment suit. And you know how the courts are these days, concerning sexual harassment." Big Jake was red in the face and Stacy began to fear for Kat. She'd never seen him so angry before. Kat, however, didn't appear worried. "I hired you, young lady, and I can fire you . . ." Again he was interrupted. "I wonder what your potential investors would think about a wrongful dismissal suit *and* a sexual harassment suit coming about at the same time. Might make them reconsider, don't you think, Mister Saunders?" Big Jake seemed to run out of steam suddenly. Stacy looked back to Kat, who appeared much larger than life. She was relaxing slowly, knowing she had won. "It's not much I'm asking, Big Jake," she said soothingly. "All we are asking is for you to treat us with the respect that employees are due. We, of course, will continue to treat you with the respect that an employer is due. Think of it this way: it will improve morale here and more work will get done. Your staff will be happier and your customers can only benefit. When they benefit they will be happier and you will benefit, also. Is that too much to ask?" "Guess, not," Big Jake huffed. He bent down and retrieved the pin. He walked over to Stacy and handed it to her. "I know you collect these, Stacy. I'm sorry," he apologized, "I never wanted you to feel harassed or anything." Stacy looked down at the pin. "Thank you, Big Jake, it really is nice." He turned and stomped out. As soon as he had disappeared from sight, Stacy turned to Kat. "You did it," the excitement was too much for her and she began jumping up and down. She ran over to Kat and hugged her. "You did it, you did it," she repeated. Kat allowed her the moment than disengaged from her. "We still have an appointment in my room, Stacy. Close the office." "Sure, Kat, sure. Let's go. I'll give you the best back rub you've ever had." At that moment Jennie walked in. "Hi, girls. I thought I'd give you a break. Go on out and enjoy this magnificent sunshine for a while. Come back in ninety minutes." "Thank you." The two women said in unison. Stacy had expected this massage to follow the pattern of the last. It wasn't to be. After she had helped Kat out of her dress and bra, Kat turned and looked at her. Her stomach began its familiar churning. She looked Kat in the eyes as long as she could, but had to look down before Kat broke contact. "You must get quite hot when you give a massage." Kat waited until Stacy felt she had to answer. "I guess so, Kat." She wasn't sure she knew where this was heading, but she was fairly sure she wouldn't like it. "I don't want guesses from you. Do you or do you not find that you become hot?" "Yes. It is a hot job, Kat." She continued looking down. "Much better, Stacy." Stacy perked up a bit. "You must continue to give straight answers." She paused and Stacy's stomach resumed its churning. "Your skirt is quite abrasive and distracting and I don't like that. I think we'll both feel much better if you undress to the same level as I have." Stacy's eyes rounded and her jaw dropped. "Do you have a problem with that, Stacy?" Stacy raised her eyes to meet Kat's gaze. The level stare from the cool green eyes unnerved her. She wished she were anywhere else but here. She owed Kat, yes, but how much? Yet if Kat abandoned her now, she'd have to face Big Jake alone and she knew she couldn't do that. After the scene downstairs he'd be after more than the odd look down her top, and now she knew she wouldn't be able to say no. She'd either have to give in or quit. She began to tremble. "No, I guess not." "Pardon." "No, Kat, I don't have a problem with that." "With what, Stacy?" "I don't have a problem with taking off my clothes to give a massage, Kat." "Ah, much better. You don't have to, of course. Do you want to do this?" Stacy looked up relieved. The relief died quickly as she saw Kat's face. "Yes, Kat, I want to take off my clothes to give you a massage. It'll be much more comfortable for both of us." Stacy felt defeated. "Well, if you think so. Okay. Let's get started." Kat lay down on her back and watched as Stacy's trembling hands began to unbutton her blouse.The last button came undone and Stacy hesitated under Kat's unwavering gaze. Then she mustered up her courage and pulled the blouse from her skirt and shrugged it off. Kat continued to watch impassively. Her heart was pounding as she unclasped her skirt and let it fall to the floor. Why was she doing this? Because she had to. Not doing it, leaving Kat's protection, was unthinkable. Stacy bent over and removed her shoes and socks. There was something both degrading and liberating about being without her clothes and, as Kat had correctly stated, it was hot work. It would be more pleasant doing it in this state of undress. The massage oil, as before, was on the night table. Stacy moved toward it, then stopped as Kat held up her hand. "The same level, Stacy." Stacy's face burned. "But my bra won't even touch you, won't come near. Why would you want . . . ." "The same level, Stacy." The words were colder this time. Stacy gulped and unhooked her bra. There was a fraction of a second's hesitation before it slipped off, exposing her breasts to the air. Kat was appraising her. Stacy knew what she was seeing. Her breasts were large, pear-like, with large pink areolae capped with pink nubbins which pointed slightly downwards. Her waist flared out into wide hips and down into nicely shaped legs. A nice hour-glass figure. She wished that her ass was a little less plump, but one has to live with what one gets - the thought of any sort of surgery, besides being too expensive, was too frightening to contemplate for long. She had always been slightly embarrassed about her looks - the boys had always given her those long leering looks. Kat, however, seemed to be suitably impressed. She nodded at Stacy and turned over to allow her to begin her work. Stacy began as Kat had instructed, with long light strokes to her back. She straddled Kat's legs, as before, feeling Kat's skin against her own in an unrestricted way which she had not before felt, and her stomach did a flip flop. Her pressure strokes began. Again, every time Kat moaned in delight, Stacy was proud that it was her strokes which were doing this. She bent her head down and continued work with a passion. "Stacy." "Yes, Kat?" Had she done something wrong? But, no, there was no tone of censure in Kat's tone. "You are free of Big Jake and Tom now. Do you realize what that means?" It had been so long since she had had such freedom that she didn't. She started thinking of how it would feel to simply go to work, go about her job and not feel pressured or put upon by her co-workers. Mel, she thought, had a thing for her, but was too embarrassed to mention it. Fred, on the other hand, was simply kind and she felt no pressure from him at all. Actually, Fred she wouldn't mind getting closer to. She was free! A sense of euphoria rose within her. What to do with her freedom, though? She just didn't know. She had never expected to reach this position, this position she had always dreamed of. Now that she had, there was no dream to carry her on. It would take time, she supposed, to accustom herself to her new freedom. Damn Big Jake, Tom and others like them who had kept her down for so long! Thank God Kat had come along and put them in their place. "Stacy?" Oh, no, she hadn't answered Kat's last question. "Yes, Kat?" Here it comes, she thought. "I'd like you to think of what you'd like to do. Think out loud. I'm interested in your thoughts." Kat was interested in what she had to say? Nobody had ever been that interested in what was in her head, only in what was in her bra and panties. "Gee, Kat. It's all been so sudden. I don't know what I want. Maybe just to bask in this sense of freedom. I feel really up, you know, really up. It's never been this way before. I guess I don't know what I want . . . Sorry. I don't really know what I want. It may take some time." "You'll have time, Stacy. Oh, that feels good, just a little harder." Stacy put a little more pressure into her strokes. "You know, it feels so good being up that I'm mad that they kept me down." "They?" "Tom, Big Jake, men. Sometimes I'd like to punish them all . . ." At these words Kat began to twist, to turn over. Stacy moved to give her room to turn, then relaxed back down on her thighs. Kat moved a pillow under her head and gazed up at Stacy. She was pondering something. Stacy wondered if she'd said something wrong. "Punish them?" Kat seemed intrigued. "Oh, it's just a thought." Stacy's face turned hard. "But sometimes I'd like to hurt them, the way they've hurt me, treating me like I wasn't really human, just something to use. When I think of how I used to feel when I went in to get something to eat," tears began forming, "just wanting to enjoy some food - " her voice cracked, "'cause he cooks so well, damn him - and have to take all those leers, the nasty double meanings in everything he said . . . . Why'd he do that to me, Kat, why?" The tears were coming freely now. Kat reached out to take Stacy's hands, to comfort her, but Stacy jerked them back. She didn't want to be comforted. Anger welled up, and she wiped away the tears. Her voice, when it came, was harsh. "I want to pay them, him, back, Kat. That's what I want. Revenge." She stopped speaking. "Revenge can be a costly undertaking, Stacy." Kat's voice was soft, but her eyes were bright. "It might be better to just enjoy the freedom you have." Kat seemed to be giving her an out, and Stacy loved her for it. "I'll pay the price, Kat." A light burst in her brain. "That's why you're here, isn't it? You're going to get him, aren't you? You're going to show him who's the boss, aren't you? I'll help, I'll do anything." She was excited now. "No, Stacy, not him." Disappointment crashed down about Stacy's shoulders. "Not *just* him. All of them, Stacy, all of them. Do you still want to help?" "Yes. Definitely." "It will mean doing whatever I say, when I say it. You may not like some of the things I ask you to do." Stacy had the feeling that although Kat appeared to be trying to talk her out of it, she was drawing her in further and further - deliberately. She looked down and saw Kat's breasts, nipples erect, moving up and down with her breathing. She was breathing quickly, the look on her face, the look beneath the quiet considerate look, was one of triumph. There was a moment of doubt, but it passed. "I want, Kat, I want." "Good." Stacy flung herself forward, squashing her breasts against Kat's and hugged her. Her head was next to Kat's ear. "Thank you, Kat, thank you," she breathed. "Okay, Stacy, you can get up now." Stacy released her hold on Kat and clambered to her feet. "On the dresser you will find a small black choker. If you put it on, you will be mine." Stacy picked up the choker. "It will be a constant reminder that you belong to me, that you must do what I say." Stacy studied the small piece of cloth in her hands. "If you do not obey quickly, or well enough, you will be punished." Stacy looked up. "Do you understand?" "If I don't obey you to your satisfaction you will punish me." She paused. "But if I please you, I'll get to punish the others?" "You will get your revenge," Kat agreed. "Be sure you want to do this. If you ever take off the choker and return it to me, or if I take it back, you will lose all your privileges - you will be back where you were before I took you in. You can remain where you are now, you don't have to put it on, but once you do, there is no turning back." Stacy placed the black cloth about her neck without hesitation. "I am yours. I want to wear it." There was triumph on Kat's face, naked triumph. "You have pleased me. Your actions and your massage have pleased me. As a reward I will allow you to suckle at my breasts." Stacy's eyes lit up and she hurried forward to join Kat on the bed. She had pleased Kat! Kat held Stacy's head and guided it to her breast. Her nipple was suddenly encased in warm wetness. It ached as it became even stiffer. She felt the tingling run from her nipple down and through her body. She was alive with the triumph of the moment, and this was the cap of it. Her first victory. Stacy was hers, now, and the others would soon follow. She would use Stacy - ah, that felt so good, Stacy was flicking her nipple with her tongue - to get the others. Mel would be easy pickings, she figured. Tom - difficult, yet manageable. She only had to set up the right set of circumstances and he would be had. Fred was the wild card, yet he, too, would succumb eventually. Of that she was sure. She had never failed before, and would not this time. Big Jake? Well, that would depend on Jennie. Jennie . . . A warm wave of contentment went through her, disrupting her thoughts. It was always the same, this joy at the first conquest. Stacy had a nimble tongue. Perhaps she would use it to better effect than on her breasts only. But that could wait. Kat didn't want to scare her off. Oh, yes, that felt good. She pulled at Stacy's hair and led her to the other breast. Stacy put as much as she could in her mouth, sucking and licking at it. She pet Stacy on the head. A good pet. Yes, she was a good pet, indeed. "That's enough, Stacy. You didn't please me excessively." Stacy looked disappointed as she gave up the nipple. She stood and Kat followed her up. "I think I need a shower now. You may soap me." Stacy's eyes lit again with the chance to please her friend, her mistress. "You may take off my panties." Stacy went immediately to her knees and pulled Kat's panties gently down. Kat was indeed a true red-head, as Stacy would see.There was a bush of fine red hair on her mound, neatly trimmed. Kat watched as she stood once more. She merely gazed at Stacy, waiting. The light of understanding lit Stacy's face - to the same level. Stacy pulled down her own panties and left them lying on the floor as she followed Kat into the bathroom. The water was warm and Stacy's hands were slippery with soap. Her hands roamed up and down Kat's body, teasing her breasts, stomach, and legs. Kat's moans of satisfaction guided her. The more she moaned, the more attention Stacy paid to that particular area. The undersides of Kat's breasts had received much attention, as had her nipples. Stacy wondered how far she should go. Suddenly it was obvious - she belonged to Kat now. Her hand, thick with suds, moved between Kat's legs and began stroking and soaping her there. Kat's breathing quickened and Stacy felt the joy within her rise. She soaped Kat up and rinsed her down, then soaped her up again. Kat's legs were beginning to tremble, and in a sudden bit of daring, Stacy found her clit and began to wash it carefully and thoroughly. She looked up through the stream of water to see Kat's arms were above her head, her hands holding on to the showerhead for support. Her head was back, and she was breathing through her mouth, trembling, her breasts jiggling like jello. Stacy grinned and reached one hand up to still a breast, then to rub the nipple while the other kept up its work on Kat's clit. Kat must be washed clean, she thought joyously. The trembling grew and grew, and Stacy stroked faster and faster. "Oh, yes!" Kat took in great draughts of breath and slowly collapsed down, down. Stacy felt her head being drawn back to a nipple. She fastened on and began to lick and suck once more, the water cascading over them both. She had pleased her mistress. She was ecstatic. "Oh, Kat, you're so beautiful," she murmured as she switched breasts. "Mistress Kathryn," Kat corrected her gently, stroking her hair. "Mistress Kathryn," Stacy agreed.She had a nice ass, but it was a little on the skinny side. Mel grinned. The job had its perks. He reached down, unclasped his pants, and undid the zipper. He had experimented and discovered that sound would make its way from the shower to the supply room and the other way also, but not to the same extent. As long as he was careful to make no loud sounds, the woman would be unable to hear him. When the shower was on, it would be near impossible. However, he would be able to hear a fair bit of what was said on the other side - not that much was ever said. "We'll share," he heard faintly through the wall. The other woman, younger - perhaps nineteen or twenty - walked in. "All the other showers are in use," she said. This one was a brunette, about four inches shorter than the first one, but with larger breasts and a plumper ass. She dropped her bag alongside the other one. They both looked into the mirror and smiled at their reflections. "That's right, babes, smile at me," Mel whispered, as he shifted and pulled his underwear down. He reached down and began to slowly stroke his soft cock. "Flip for first?" the brunette asked. "I was here first, Sally, I shower first," the blonde answered. "Besides, you should show respect for your older sister." She grinned. "Yeah, sure. That's what you always say, Karen. Oh, well, I guess you're right. Age before beauty - ouch!" Karen had slapped Sally on her butt. "I'll tell dad." Karen stuck out her tongue at her younger sister as she untied her top, allowing Mel his first look at her nipples. "Yes!" he exulted. The relative coolness of the shower room, along with the evaporation of the water from them, had her nipples growing erect. They were the size of pencil erasers. "Nice tits," Sally grinned at Karen, who had bent over to remove her bottoms. Her breasts hung down towards the floor, nipples scratching at the air. "That's for sure," Mel murmured, his cock slowly growing under his ministrations. "Bitch." Karen laughed and moved into the shower. Karen made a show of wiggling her ass as she walked, much to the amusement of Sally. For Mel, however, it was like a dream come true. Two women showing off for each other. His cock was now semi-erect. He didn't want to rush things. With two of them there, he could take his time. The shower sprang to life, and Karen moved under it, lifting her face up to it. The water ran down her hair and on down her back. Nice ass, thought Mel. He was hard now and had made a circle of his thumb and fingers into which his cock fit nicely. With slow, light strokes, he moved his hand up and down his cock, enjoying the light friction. He licked at his lips as Karen turned and allowed the hot water to stream down her back. She had a nice thatch of pussy hair, thick and blonde as well, though somewhat darker than the hair on her head. Mel stared at her crotch, transfixed, and increased the friction on his cock slightly. "Mmm, yes, soap it up, baby, soap it up." Karen had moved out of the spray and was soaping her body. The white suds were beautiful on her tanned skin. She took her time soaping her breasts and between her legs, and Mel's cock gave a little jump. He stopped stroking and pulled off his t-shirt. Leaning back in his chair, now, Mel renewed his stroking. With his left hand, he ran his fingers all over his chest, imagining it to be Karen who was doing the rubbing. "Ah, yes, baby," he murmured. There was a tightness in his stomach as his excitement grew. God, they were beautiful, both of them. Sally was watching her sister in the mirror, yet it seemed as if she were watching him. "For you, baby, for you." White streams of suds flowed down Karen's legs as the shower spray rinsed the soap from her. She turned around a few times, allowing the water to rinse every inch of skin. Then she was finished and was squeezing the water from her hair. "Your turn, sis." "Humph. Not much of a show. Nice wiggle on the way in, though. Is that how you do it for Bill?" "Slut." "Hussy." Karen picked up her towel as Sally freed her breasts. They were nice and fleshy. She boosted them with her hands, while looking in the mirror. "This is what men want, sis, something they can hold on to." "Bull. This is what they want," Karen touched her pussy, "something they can sink into." The two broke out laughing, and Sally bounced her way into the shower. Karen was drying herself off right in front of him while Sally was soaping herself in the background. Mel began stroking himself faster and faster. He wanted to be finished before Karen covered up those lovely pert tits. Tensions increased, and Mel stretched out his legs until his feet were pressing against the boxes in front of him. He pushed, feeling the tightness travel up his legs to his stomach. His butt was at the edge of his seat, and he was leaning back, putting his body into an almost straight line. Breathing through his mouth now, he increased the friction of his hand. His cockhead was large and dark in the dim light and becoming very sensitive. Sally was bent over, soaping her legs, her breasts hanging, water splashing off her shoulders. It could be his hand there, soaping and stroking. It could be him taking those tits into his mouth. He was stiff, and his stomach was as hard as a board. His head was back, pressing against the box behind him, and only by looking down his nose, through slitted eyes, could he see the twin visions of beauty in front of him. His hips began rocking, and occasionally, he'd lose the rhythm. His fist moved faster, feeling the buildup towards orgasm. What a lovely pussy. He'd love to be in it, pumping hard, making her gasp with pleasure. He could feel those breasts, mashed against his chest; those lips, whispering in his ear, urging him on and on, crying out in ecstasy. The blonde, watching, diddling herself, waiting her turn to be fucked. Yes, he'd fuck them, fuck them both. One sister at a time while the other one watched. He'd fuck the brunette, hard and fast, until she came, then bury himself in that blonde pussy, feel those eraser-tip nipples rubbing against his chest, see those blue eyes half closed with the pleasure his cock was giving her. The brunette would be at his side, wide-eyed, saying 'Fuck her, fuck her hard. Make her come,' as she knelt down for a better look at his cock parting her sister's pussy. He'd move her legs up over his shoulders. She'd know there would be nothing she could do, now, but get taken by him, fucked by him . . . by him. "Oh God!" he gasped. It was now. He forced himself to look the blonde in the eyes as his body tensed. "Take it, baby, take it all," he whispered, then groaned as his hips stopped moving, as everything tensed, stopped - except his fist. He jerked upright as the cum splashed onto his chest, relaxed back, then jerked upright again, still pumping. Then with a sigh, all tension draining, he lowered himself back down. It had been a good one. "Thanks, babes," he murmured, looking at the two pairs of breasts, through the one-way glass. "You were great." Mel absently reached out his hand to grab some of the tissues which were sitting on the box next to him. He started as he felt the tissues being placed in his hand. "Wha . . ." "Interesting show, Mel," Kat purred. "So, which one do you like best? I kind of prefer the blonde. She's more mature, but the brunette has a hot little body, wouldn't you say?" Mel wasn't saying anything. His mind was blank. He could only stare, unbelievingly, at Kat, standing above him, looking through his picture window. Kat looked down at him and smiled. "Well, Mel, which one were you in when you came? It looked like you were concentrating on the blonde, but it was difficult to tell from where I was. Which one?" The last two words, though spoken in a whisper, were like a whip. "The b-blonde," he stuttered, trying vainly to think of an excuse, to find a way out of his predicament. "Ah, that's better. See, we can have a quiet little talk if you answer my questions." Mel didn't know where she was leading, so he simply nodded his head. "Good." "How'd you . . ." "Get in?" Mel nodded. "I have a passkey. I found your little window the other day. You should have disposed of your tissues a little better. I smelled your cum in the air. It didn't take long to figure it out." Mel was mortified. He was slowly coming out of his paralysis. The implications were staggering. This woman, this Kat, could do terrible things with what she knew. He'd be fired - or worse. He didn't want to think about the 'worse'. Kat brought it up for him. The whir of a hair-drier on the other side of the mirror allowed them to talk normally. "What do you think those young ladies," she pointed at the two who were now finishing dressing, "would say if they knew about all this? What do you think their father would say?" Mel didn't want to think about that. He swallowed, hard. "You're going to tell them?" He closed his eyes, thinking of the shame. "I don't want to, Mel," Kat said kindly. "And I'm sure we can make a little deal so I won't have to." "Tom says you're a dominatrix." Mel wanted, badly, to change the subject. "Does he now?" Kat asked, and Mel nodded. "It's a limiting label, but it has its uses. If you like it, you can use it." She smiled at him. To Mel, there was no smile, simply the baring of teeth. It was worse than he imagined. Suddenly, he realized that he was practically naked in front of her. He blushed. The humiliation was furthered when he realized she had watched him beating off. "Tell you what, Mel: you think on what I've said."We'll talk later - after you've cleaned yourself up and dressed. How's that sound?" "Okay." Anything to get her out of there. Kat bared her teeth again and turned away. Oh God, what had he gotten himself into? He watched as she slipped out the door. He slumped into the chair, his dreams crashing around him. Another woman entered the shower that the sisters had vacated, but Mel's eyes were blind to her features. All he knew was that he had to get out. "Hi Tom." Stacy walked into the lunch counter. "Hello, Stacy. What can I do for you?" "Jennie asked me to get her a bottle of ketchup." Stacy breathed deeply of the freedom from Tom's former attitude. "Sure thing." Tom reached under the counter and came up with a new bottle. As he handed it to her, he became aware of the choker. "Nice choker, Stacy," he said with a straight face, "it suits you." "Thank you, Tom," Stacy couldn't believe how the atmosphere had changed since Mistress Kathryn had come. She made an effort to think of Kat as Mistress Kathryn so as not to displease her if caught off guard. "Mistress Kathryn gave it to me." "I thought so." Tom spoke kindly, much to Stacy's surprise. "You poor thing. You don't know what you've gotten yourself into. But I'll enjoy watching." Stacy's anger flared. "I am not a poor thing." "You're just a pet now, Stacy. Kat's pet." He chuckled as a connection was made, "Yes, a pet cat - a pussy." Stacy's face burned. "You'll be talking out of the other side of your mouth when we're finished with you." She turned and stomped out, leaving Tom looking thoughtful. "Have you seen Mel lately, Fred?" Kat, Fred and Stacy were sitting around the table in the communal kitchen. Fred had been experimenting, and the three were enjoying the fruits of his experiment - a rice dish with cubed chicken breast in a white sauce. Fred looked up and answered Kat negatively. "Haven't seen him all day, actually. Strange, that. He usually shows up for supper. Maybe today he decided to eat in the lunch counter." "Perhaps," Kat agreed. "Excellent dinner, Fred." "Thank you." He grinned. "Is this another one you owe me?" He was not serious, his manner was joking, it was obvious he was joking, yet Kat seemed to take him seriously. "It could be, but only if you tell me what you want in return. I like to pay off my debts promptly." Her green eyes were cool and calm. "You don't give up, do you?" "Never." Fred took a deep breath. This was becoming tiring. Perhaps he could end it here - he didn't think so, but it was worth a try. "Okay, then, I'll tell you." He paused and Kat's eyes brightened. Not so fast, my dear, I won't play your game. "I'm willing to cancel all favors you owe me by the simple expedient of your ceasing to play this game of yours with me. Just leave me alone and we're even." The gleam in her eyes faded, replaced with a calculating stare. "No. You haven't earned that much." Fred burst out laughing, which didn't seem to improve Kat's disposition. "You just don't get it, do you, Kat?" She made no move to answer. "Okay, I'll tell you then. I don't hold favors as being owed. You don't owe me anything, Kat, you never did. And, unless I specifically enter into an agreement, I don't consider any favors you do me as placing me in your debt. "And now, ladies, I see it is time for me to head down and help Tom. No rest for the working poor, huh?" He gave them a wave. Something occurred to him and he stopped. He paused a moment before turning. When he did turn, Kat's eyes were on him. Calculating. Had he given something away? "Kat, you've been trying to get information from and about me. You want to use it to ensnare me, no doubt." Kat's face was expressionless. He felt suddenly old and sad. "You have nothing I want, Kat. You never did. Give it up. Leave me alone. Play your games with the others." He paused for a moment, suppressing memories. "Besides, you keep it up and I leave. There's nothing keeping me here." That wasn't completely true but, if it could get her off his back, a small lie wouldn't hurt too much. Fred forced a smile onto his face. "See, you can't win." He spun around and left. The hollow sound of his steps as he descended the stairs reverberated in his mind. Talking to her had been a mistake. It simply brought up things better left covered. "What do you know about him, Stacy?" Kat was beginning to doubt her ability to get Fred. If he truly wanted nothing, she couldn't, as he put it, win. "Nothing, really, Mistress. He's a real nice person. He never treated me badly in any way." Stacy wanted to help but couldn't. "Does he like you?" Stacy smiled, "Oh, I'm sure he does. But he seems to like everybody. He's friendly, but he's friendly to everyone." "Has he ever mentioned why he's working here? I've read his application. He doesn't say much in it, yet his abilities and his manner seem to indicate that he's well educated. Why is he working as a cook?" "He hasn't said anything, Mistress. Wait." Stacy thought back. There was something. Kat waited patiently. "Oh, yes. He once said that having a degree didn't always mean anything. I think he was talking about himself." "Thank you, Stacy, that may help. You can go back down to the office now." Stacy smiled broadly as she rose and cleared up the dishes. She left feeling good about herself. She had helped her Mistress again. Kat remained at the table, lost in thought, until she heard Jennie coming up the stairs. Jake was already in their apartment and, as this was his last day at Hotsprings Campsite before his expedition into the capital, it stood to reason that things might become hot once Jennie arrived. Kat rose and placed her glass in the sink, Stacy could clean it later, then made her way back toward her room. She had almost reached her door when she realized that this was the perfect opportunity to take a look in Fred's room. She turned back to his door and, with a careful look around her, put the passkey in the lock. To her surprise the door had not been locked. She stepped in quickly and closed the door behind her. For a moment she thought that she was in the wrong room, in the empty room. There were no pictures on the walls. Nothing stood on the dresser, nor on the night table. It was as if no one occupied the room. The bed was neatly made, the floor clean. Kat opened the closet door. Clothes hung neatly on the hangers. Two suitcases stood on the floor. She pulled them out and opened them. Nothing. She replaced them. The dresser drawers held little. All that he had, she realized, would fit in the two small cases. Fred was more of a mystery than she had expected. She turned to the night table. There was a bag in the lower compartment. It held a 35mm camera. A good one. There were two other lenses in it and a single roll of film. Nothing else. She opened the night table drawer. Within was a small box and a few assorted items: A pen, car keys, cough drops, some loose change. She lifted the box out carefully, so as to disturb nothing else. Damn. It was locked. She replaced it and exited the room after checking to see that the bathroom had the same empty quality to it that the bedroom did. Very, very interesting. Who was this young man? Back in her room, Kat took out a little receiver and plugged her earphones into it. She turned it on. It was the receiver set from a Baby-Minder. Parents were encouraged to place the transmitter in their baby's room and take the receiver with them so they could monitor their baby from any room in the house. It had become quite a popular item. Kat had her own ideas about usage and their worth. The transmitter now sat behind the Saunders' bed, plugged into the spare receptacle. Now she would be able to hear whatever went on. She turned up the volume and adjusted her earphones. Ah, yes. They were there, all right, just as she had suspected they would be. "You look so lovely, Jennie, spread like that. It makes me hard just to look at you." Jake's voice was fairly clear. "Come inside me, honey. I'm ready." Kat could imagine her, spread-eagled on the bed. "I know you are, but you're going to have to beg." He laughed as she gave a sudden gasp. Had he suddenly introduced a finger into her? "What are you doing?" Ah, she was wearing the blindfold that Kat had discovered in the little box. "You like?" He chuckled. "It tickles." The feather? There were some squeaking sounds as if she were trying, unsuccessfully of course, to escape her bonds, shaking the bed in her attempts. "Mmmm." It was an erotic hum. Was he flicking her nipples with the feather? Perhaps drawing it down her oh so sensitive neck and across her breasts? Kat realized that she was becoming wet as she struggled to interpret the sounds she was hearing. She quickly undressed and lay down on her own bed. It would be nice to kick Big Jake out and continue working on Jennie herself. Jennie continued to make little humming, mewling noises. Kat imagined flicking the feather across Jennie's nipples, seeing her breasts sloshing about as she tried to avoid the little caresses. She touched her own nipples. Ah, yes, that would be what Jennie would be feeling. That glorious current running between the nipples, the trigger for deeper sensations within the core. Oh, yes. A sudden gasp. Had Jake transferred his attention to Jennie's unprotected cunt? Was the feather stroking her clit, now bared by her widespread legs? Or was the feather gently caressing her cuntlips? Kat's fingers moved down to gently stroke her own labia. She would have Jennie begging for release before she stopped."Like it down there?" Yes, she had been right. "Come inside me," the voice was pleading. Not a chance. Make her beg first. Another gasp. A flick on the clit? Kat flicked her own and gave a gasp herself. Jennie would be helpless, at her mercy. "What's your hurry?" Good. "We have plenty of time. Here, suck on my finger, make it good and wet." Kat put a finger in her mouth and tasted her own juices on it. She hummed, with Jennie, in contentment. That's it Jennie, get it good and wet, you know where it's going. Poor Jennie. What a lovely body to play with, to tease, to drive wild. No release for poor Jennie - not soon at any rate. A sucking sound - had the finger been suddenly removed? Kat removed her own and positioned it at her portal, at Jennie's portal, ready to plunge deep inside. The cry. Her finger plunged inside and she, too, cried out Jennie's cry. Whimper, Jennie, whimper as the finger moves in and out; thrash about, unable to escape. Buck those hips in the air as the finger rides you. Kat was wetter than she'd been in a long time. Her hips gyrated as her finger plunged in and out. Now a second joined the first even as she heard yet another cry through the phones. "Jake, Jake. Please stop. I'm going to come. I want you inside me when I come. Please Jake. I'm begging, Jake, I'm begging. Please come in me, please." Not good enough, Jennie, not good enough. Kat rode herself, her breathing ragged, as she would ride Jennie, forcing her breathing to come in great gasps and gulps, forcing her to cry out, begging for more. "I'm sorry I asked you to let me tie you up Jake. I'm sorry." She sounded sorry. Not good enough Jennie, you know what to do, do it. "Fuck me, Jake. Please, fuck me. Use me, fuck me, put it in and fuck me hard, please, Jake, I'm begging." Yes! Beg like a slut, Jennie. Beg to be used. "You want to be fucked?" Jake's voice was harsh, rasping. "Yes, Jake, fuck me, fuck me good." The bed creaked. Kat withdrew her fingers then placed a third with the other two, waiting. Okay, Jennie, you want to be fucked, I'll fuck you. I have a strap-on, Jennie, you'll like that. Kat listened intently. She cried out almost as Jennie cried out and Jake grunted. The three fingers plunged inside as Jake's cock parted Jennie's cunt and drove in to the hilt. The ride became a wild one, the three fingers driving in and out while the first two fingers of the other hand stroked and rubbed her clit ever faster. Kat's hips came off the bed, her legs pushing them ever higher, poised on the moment, timing it exactly. Her center was a liquid volcano, ready to erupt, sitting on the edge. Ecstasy only a moment away. You can't fight it, Jennie. Now, Jennie, now. The wail in her ears matched the wail in her throat as she pitched that last inch upwards, the warmth exploding in waves throughout her, until her trembling thighs could hold her no longer and she collapsed to the bed, panting heavily. She was covered with a sheen of sweat, and she pulled the sheet over herself as she slowly came down, hearing her own soft words calming and soothing Jennie. It had been wild, she thought, as her heavy eyelids closed. Wild and wonderful. And, as a bonus, an important piece of information had come her way. The smile creasing her lips faded as she drifted off to a warm and wonderful sleep. End Chapter 4, Hotsprings by Delta.

Chapter 3

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/12281.txt

Walter Fortner

Marcia's Predicament

"A lady came up to the farmer's house and said, 'I've just run over your cat and I'd like to replace it.' The farmer scratched his chin, looked at her for a moment, and said, 'Very well, how good are you at catching mice?'" It was an old joke, buried deep in the recesses of Marcia's mind. But when the body is restrained, the mind is free to wander where it will. Marcia's body was definitely restrained, and her mind was definitely wandering. For the past thirty hours, it had wandered far and wide, digging into the most remote areas of her memory. Sometimes while she dreamt away the agony of the present, sometimes while she absorbed every little nuance of her predicament, every sound in her new world. This old story resurfaced over and over. His footsteps finally tore her from her reverie, and she watched his approach. There was not much else she could do! He stepped through the last row of corn stalks and grinned. "Ready for a little break?", he asked. A soft moan was her response, which he took for a yes. "Okay, but remember the rules." He stepped forward and undid the leather strap around her neck. Next, he carefully rolled up the stocking which he had pulled over her head. This stocking also covered the post against which she strained, keeping her head pinned firmly against it. He rolled the stocking up until the roll pressed across her eyes, forbidding her from looking down and offering her very little view in any other direction. He undid the strap which held the ball in her mouth; it, too, fastened behind the post and prevented her from turning her head. Free to speak, Marcia desperately wanted to plead for mercy, but not a word came out. She knew the drill; he was going to give her food and water, but if she made a sound, the break was over. So she bit her tongue and stifled her urge. She could not help herself; she was totally dependent upon his generosity. He didn't seem to have much. He proffered a squeeze bottle of water; she drank greedily. A small whimper escaped her lips as he withdrew the bottle; he ignored it. He spooned some cereal into her mouth. It was already soggy with milk, so she had little problem chewing it enough to swallow, even though her jaw ached. "It has 100 percent of the vitamins and minerals you need every day", he offered. A faint smile crossed her lips, then faded into the reality of her helplessness. He alternated cereal and water, until both were gone. He dabbed up the spillage and gave her a quick kiss. She knew he was ready to replace the gag anyway, so she summoned her strength for one heartrending plea for mercy. It was cut off before it got started as he stuffed the ball in her mouth the first time she opened it enough to do so easily. Her tears were hidden by the rolled stocking as he buckled the strap back behind the post. He fluffed her hair behind her back, rearranging it to fall evenly across her back. Then he rolled the stocking back down and strapped it into place with the collar. He removed the floppy straw hat she wore and checked the stocking for rips. There were none, so he replaced the hat, smoothed the stocking over her face, briefly held her chin in his hand, and gave her a gentle peck on the cheek through the nylon. He then set about checking the rest of her bonds. Her arms shared a long-sleeved flannel shirt with a rough rod about eight feet long. He had tied a rope across her right palm, pinning the back of her hand against the rod. After knotting this first loop, he had arranged some bits of straw around her wrist and up the sleeve of her shirt. The rope from her hand was then wound repeatedly around her arm, clamping it firmly to the rod, until he reached her shoulder, where he tied it off. The left arm was fixed similarly. Nothing had come loose, and there was no need to replace the straw, as she had not worked any of it out. She groaned, knowing she would spend another day being scratched and tickled by its presence. Her arms and the rod were fastened to the post by a rope which started behind the post, came around on both sides above her shoulders, passed under her arms and rod, and crossed behind the post. This was repeated several times, with some passes being looped through the ropes around her arms, to keep them from slipping up her arms. He checked, and this ropework was still tight, too. He surprised her. Instead of just checking the rope which held her torso against the post, he undid it. He paused to unbutton the itchy flannel shirt, pulling it apart enough to expose her breasts; she wore nothing underneath it. He allowed himself a little fun, after all. He teased her nipples a bit, traced complex designs on her belly with his fingernail, and allowed a cool breeze to caress her nakedness. Then he was done. He rebuttoned the shirt and replaced the rope. Across her body, above the breasts and below her arms, back behind the post and tug, to make sure it was tight. A knot would keep her from shifting any slack she might find. Back around front, under her breasts this time, back behind the post, and knot. Around again a little lower, and then one more time around her waist. She was again plastered to the post and could not move a muscle. The rope which glued her rump to the post was checked but not removed. It started at the waist, made a couple of passes across her pelvic regions before disappearing between her legs from the front. Resurfacing behind, this rope was carefully situated between her cheeks before being drawn up behind her back, brought around to the front of her arms, across her shoulders and tied behind the post at the level of her neck. This was her main means of support since her feet were far from the ground. From there, he checked the ropes around her legs. The upper legs were fastened in an alternating pattern -- one time tied around the legs themselves and crossed behind them before finishing a figure eight around the post, the next just around her legs and the post in one circle. He thought this might be "more interesting" to her. It took about a dozen loops to reach her knees. The jeans she wore had rivets down each seam, providing a fine "catch" for each loop to keep it from sliding down. She hadn't been able to move enough to cause any to slip, but he found some slack and went about removing it. Below her knees, another rope wound from behind the post to the inside of each leg, around the front, and back behind the post. This pulled her legs slightly apart; more so as the rope got lower. At her ankles, the rope around her legs passed in front of the post instead and looped once more around her ankles, pulling her legs together and keeping her from kicking them back in an effort to loosen the rest of the rope. After a couple of times around her ankles, the rope was passed over the loop just above her ankle loop to cinch it. Nothing had come loose here, and the straw he had tied under her jeans to hide her feet was still there. Like that around her wrists, the straw irritated her with a thousand tiny pinpricks, but she could not dislodge it. She wore stockings, but no shoes. Her feet were tied with a rope which came around her ankles, across the top of her feet, and then several times around at her instep. The way her legs were tied, her feet would not come together, but he pulled them as close as he could. The last of the rope was used to cinch the foot ropes before going around the post and being knotted there. Nothing was loose here, and he paused a moment to tease the soles of her feet. Yes, she was still receiving sensations from her feet; he could tell by her desperate struggles and low moan. But she was definitely not going anywhere! Satisfied, he straightened up and took one more long look at her. Picking up the bowl and water bottle, he stepped back through the row of corn. Before disappearing from sight completely, he turned, waved cheerily, and said, "Keep the crows away. I'll check on you again tonight!". Marcia cried as he vanished. Nothing to do but hang around all day in the hot sun, watching the corn grow. Bitterly, she remembered tentatively knocking on his door, hoping no one would be home. But he was there. "I'm sorry," she had said, "but my car ran off the road. I destroyed your scarecrow, and I'd like to replace it."Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/----http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/15220.txt

Chili Peeler

Peeler RP: Manhattan Madness - Part 12 (end)

"ATTENTION. FLIGHT 623 TO CHICAGO IS BOARDING ALL ROWS..." "That's me," Jim said sadly, holding his sister's hand as they sat near the boarding ramp. "Don't be such a gloomy Gus," Beth said, squeezing his hand and kissing him on the cheek. "What did you expect, Liz? After all, he's leaving us two sexy creatures behind," Julie teased, from his other side. "Well, not forever," Beth promised. "That's true," Jim said confidently, "And until then I've got plenty of memories to last me." "Not to mention those Polaroids!" Julie sexily said as she kissed his other cheek. Their last night had been captured on Polaroids and a camcorder; the girls would keep the camcorded chronicle. "Hide those good," Beth said, kissing his ear. "I better get on board...before you two get me going again." He stood up and they walked over to the gate. There were about 20 guys in Army uniforms in line to board, and their heads all swiveled toward him and his two shapely companions. "Look at those wolves," Julie kidded as they mentally undressed her. Boy, would they be surprised! "Yeah, I think we ought to show them who we're with," Beth said, and she turned his face to her and kissed him hard, with lots of tongue. He felt Julie leaning against him, her hand going to rub his crotch. As fast as their little show began, the girls disengaged themselves and headed back down the terminal, waving goodbye and then hugging each other as they sashayed out of sight. Jim turned around to find the Army grunts staring at him. "If you got it, you got it!" he said. THE END

Part 12 (end)

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11125.txt

Loch Raveena

The Rooster

"The rooster has come home to roost," read the 2-star National Guard general. "The US military for years trained and supported death squads in El Salvador and Colombia - and now shadowy groups have emerged here at home - killing us!" The general put the newspaper down and lit up a cigar. "Damn right," the general thought, "and you're next!" The general, in his younger years when he was just a major in the real army, was among those special forces who were sent in to Central America to help eliminate the communists who had infested the little minds of little peasants and poor people. Communism was like a disease, and it had to be weeded out. Commie bastards were crawling all over the place down there, but he and his comrades had done the job. They were fully-functioning democracies now! How 'bout that? Why wasn't this 'student leader,' who was being quoted in the newspaper, saying anything about that?! He's a communist, that's why, and the disease had spread throughout the great US of A. His men were called on to defend American interests in Central America, and now they were needed right here at home. The operation was black, of course. The press knew how to stay in line, and those among them who grew sympathetic of the red faggots were quietly and quickly made to 'disappear.' The general cackled, then coughed, then sucked on his cigar. "Sergeant!" he barked, and immediately Sgt. Williams appeared in the doorway to the general's office. Sgt. Williams was a good 'ole boy, raised in Missouri and knew what it meant to tend the land, raise cattle, and hump a whore. The general liked him despite his penchant for serious ass-kissing. A general needed his ass kissed, anyway. "Yes, sir?" Williams asked. "Get this fucker in here asap! I can't stand to read about this anti-American 'graduate' student, this 'intellectual wonder' as the paper calls him! Get this Giuseppe Firenze in here," the general commanded. "Yes, sir," said the sergeant who promptly left the general's office. The general could hear the young sergeant barking commands and giving orders like a little general. It pleased the general to have such dedicated young men in his secret unit. The general looked down at the paper again, his face growing red with anger. People just don't know, he thought. The red menace was back and stronger than ever. College campuses once again were becoming havens for 'young intellectuals,' a code word for communists. Giuseppe - what kind of name was that! A friggin' immigrant! Of course! That was the cause of it all, wasn't it? Mexicans moving in and taking over - and everyone knows that Mexicans are communists. Not even human. Traitors. Murderers. And this guy, this Giuseppe - what was that, Italian? Probably. Wops were no better than Mexicans. Wops sided with Hitler, then when the Allies began to win the war, the cowards switched sides! Once a betrayer, always a betrayer - even if they did switch to our side. It was only about an hour later when Sgt. Williams reported that Giuseppe was in custody along with his girlfriend and other friends. How fast, how efficient his unit ran! The general was pleased. But, girlfriend? Yeah, right, thought the general. Everyone knew that communists were really homosexuals. She was probably just a cover. "Bring in that traitor," the general commanded. Williams disappeared then reappeared leading the 'young intellectual' into the room. The general was surprised by the young man's age - he was older than the average college student. He was about 26, with long jet black hair that was in his eyes and his face, all stringy and twisted into dreadlocks like a Jamaican rastafarian. His face was youthful, his eyes dark, his skin slightly dark in that Mediterranean complexion. He was very skinny, but athletic - like a swimmer...or a surfer. Yes, that's what this 'cool look' was probably all about. He was a pot-smoking, crack-sniffing, faggot surfer. He was a faggot all the way!, the general thought. The general smiled at the lad and nicely asked him to have a seat. The general saw that Giuseppe was handcuffed and told Williams that handcuffs would not be needed. His eyes told Williams that this skinny little punk could easily be handled without cuffs. The young man's dark eyes were fearful, but defiant. He pushed his little chest out, the general noted with amusement. The 'boy' sat down with ease, his shoulders slumping. "We're sorry for having to bring you and your friends down here," the general explained in a soft and understanding voice, "but we're going to need some information." The general went on to explain that they were concerned about the recent disappearances of college students and professors, artists, and other intellectuals. The general assured him that he could protect them if only he told them what their plans were, what activities took place where - so that they could be protected. The young lad said he knew of no plans or activities, but he thanked the general for his concern and for his offer of help. Coy little devil, the general thought. "How old are you, son?" the general asked. "28," Giuseppe replied. 28? Wow, the guy looked like he was 26, or even 23, but not 28. It was probably the long hair, the oversized t-shirt and baggy jeans that the man was wearing that made him look so much younger. But 28 was young, the general thought, remembering that he had reached his peak in physical fitness around age 31 - when he could run 12 miles without even breaking a sweat! "What are you studying?" the general asked. "Anthropology," the young man replied. "I'm a graduate student." "Oh? Master's program?" "Ph.D.," the boy answered. "Really! How nice." The general stood up from behind his desk and moved to the front, sitting on it. Bending over until his nose was almost touching Giuseppe's, he whispered, "You're going to tell me everything I want to know and you're going to tell me right now, you fucking mogul!" The general glared into Giuseppe's dark eyes, and he noted the black eyebrows and how they involuntarily twitched as the general's words hung in the room like the smoke from his cigar. "I don't know anything," Giuseppe said. Sgt. Williams silently moved into the room behind Giuseppe, along with Private Bundy, another dependable young man who grew up in Texas and was a Damn Fine American. Big, burly, and always hungry for a fight. Bundy was a brawler. The Guard needed more brawlers like him. The general sighed, sucked his cigar, then whispered "you will, my boy, you will." Sgt. Williams grabbed the dark 'young intellectual' from behind, putting him in a chokehold and immediately cutting off his breath. He was yanked backwards out of his seat, the chair spilling over onto its back, the legs facing the general's desk. The boy struggled for breath, his arms reaching up and struggling to remove Williams' arms. Williams kept the pressure on him and placed his knee into the small of the skinny man's back, arching his body. The stretching and arching of the skinny man's body raised his t-shirt, exposing his tiny protruding knot of a navel, exciting the general. Of course, thought the general, the lad had an outtie belly button like all faggots and had no hair on his body! The brawler private stepped forward then and landed a meaty punch right in the boy's stomach, and his legs buckled immediately, Sgt. Williams letting the boy slip out of his grip and onto the floor where he gasped for breath but couldn't find any. Bundy the brawler stepped forward again, lifting the little commie off the ground by his shirt and reached back to bash his face with a powerful Texan right, but the kid surprisingly landed a head butt on the private's jaw. The general was surprised to see a wild look take hold in the young man's dark eyes, and watched in satisfaction as the Mediterranean youth showed speed and agility with three quick jabs to the private's nose and then a lightning-quick right that flashed before the private's eyes. A loud 'snap!' echoed in the room as the beefy private stumbled backwards against the wall, blood pouring from between his fingers as his hands tried to cover his broken nose. Sgt. Williams immediately tried to subdue the dark-haired young man from behind, but the youth's quick kick to his shins left him gasping, and the boy then darted for the door. The commotion in the general's office brought soldiers scrambling into the doorway, and the dark-haired man they had brought in earlier ran right into them.They quickly subdued him and threw him to the ground, the soldiers kicking him over and over in the stomach and ribs. "Enough!" yelled the beefy private. "He's mine." The soldiers stepped back as the young brawler with the now-broken nose stepped forward. The general was smiling from ear to ear. How the boy fought! What a complete surprise! The skinny young man broke the Texan's nose! Too bad the lad was a communist! The Texan private looked to the general for approval, and he got it with a nod and sparkling eyes. The old man was loving this, Bundy thought - and so was he. The boy on the ground before him turned out to be a worthy opponent. Too many are not willing to fight - but this kid, this skinny kid, he had balls. He felt the pain in his nose. Of course, the skinny little fuck was going to pay for it now, though. The dark-haired young man was about to jump up with newfound speed and agility after so successfully feigning injury, but the Texan was wise to him now. His steel-toed boot caught him in the belly as he was gracefully rising off the floor, but there was no faking the 'whumph!' that sent air rushing out of the boy's lungs. The boy fell forward hard, groping his little stomach, his mouth wide open trying to suck in air. The Texan landed another steel-toed kick into the boy's side, knocking him over onto his back, his black t-shirt crumpling up over his skinny middle section. The private's eyes noted the boy's soft little belly with the protruding navel that he was sure ladies would kill for. Bundy then leaped into the air and brought his full 215 pounds onto the young man's curved and soft little stomach. The dark-haired guy's body bounced into the air, then back down onto his back. The boy's eyes were opened wide and staring up at the ceiling - the private could see them struggling to focus, and it was a sign of victory! He kicked the boy in the side, and a sickening 'crack!' filled their ears. The young man was no longer resisting, his stomach - now turning a light blue - was rising and falling rapidly and with irregularity. The general stepped forward then, placing a hand onto the private's shoulder. "Good, Tex, good boy." Tex stepped back, smiling, savoring his victory. All the soldiers slapped him on the back, saying "tiger" and "wow, did you hear his ribs break, man?!" The general, bent over the young man like a rooster, looked down into his dark eyes. "Are you ready to answer my questions, boy?" he asked. The dark eyes were focusing and unfocusing - the boy was semi-conscious, the general realized. "Damn, Tex, I think you might've killed him." The soldiers looked at the proud skinny young dark-haired man lying at the general's feet. His shirt was crumpled up to his skinny but firm chest now, and the general noted the slender muscles and excellent tone. The kid's clothes did not accentuate his athletic physique, causing them to underestimate the boy's physical abilities. This was important to remember, the general thought. The young man's dark eyes remained fixated on the ceiling, trying to focus but failing to hold it. The boy's breathing grew harsher and more erratic. Both of his hands cradled his little belly, now a darker shade of blue and beginning to bulge slightly, his knot of a navel protruding out a little further. The general stepped back aghast as the boy's belly suddenly bulged, his navel protruding ominously from his blue stomach. The navel continued to extend outward, growing outwards with a sickly wet sound until the stem showed. It looked like a twig sticking out of his stomach, growing. The stomach retreated, as did the navel, but the navel protruded further now than before. It was almost obscene. Everyone's eyes remained transfixed on the boy's bluish stomach which was still rising and falling rapidly and erratically. "I killed him," said the Texan with satisfaction. "Did you see his belly button? Wow!" The skinny young man's body suddenly arched, his navel protruding even further, his head turning towards the soldiers, his mouth opening wide as thick dark blood erupted from his wide-open mouth, spilling down his cheek. He began to gurgle, his dark eyes continuing to focus and unfocus as they now fixated on the soldiers' shiny boots. The boy's body jerked then, his hands slipping from his belly and to his sides, the fingers twitching. The boy's body began to twitch violently as he slipped into convulsions, the dark eyes wide open and unblinking. The boy's twitching became less frequent, finally stopping. The soldiers stood mesmerized by the young man's dead body. His tiny stomach was slightly swollen and blue, his knot of a navel protruding obscenely from his belly with its stem showing - it was extremely sensual and sexually stimulating, even though the soldiers were all straight men. The boy's dark eyes were wide open and staring at the soldier's boots, blood and spittle leaking out of the youth's partially-opened mouth. His legs were bent at angles and his baggy jeans had slipped down just a little below the tan line showing the curves of his hips. "Bring in the next one," the general commanded. The soldiers all filed out except for Williams and Tex. Another young dark-headed youth was led in, his eyes immediately going to the dark staring eyes of the dreadlocked dead boy, then to his little bulging stomach with the incredibly protruding belly button. A tingle of excitement pressed against his sex. He could not take his eyes off of Giuseppe's beautiful corpse, those dark staring eyes, the protruding belly button, the way he laid there. As the general began to question him, he only hoped that he could look like Giuseppe did before the day was over.

m/beating, death

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/14523.txt

M2MNIPU8me

The Complete Takeover

"So, Mr. Howe, why are you here?" "Please, call me Glenn. May I call you Patrick?" Wanting to keep his distance, Pat Erickson replied, "Mr. Howe, your reputation as a takeover pirate is well known..." "That is unfair. All of my, shall we say, acquisitions have been done with the blessing of the principals!" "...what you say appears to be true...on the surface. All I know is that initially, firms are ironclad in their desire to resist your overtures, but soon, somehow, for some reason, the CEOs and Powers that be become your..." Pat searched for the appropriate word. "...boys...?" Glenn interjected, wanting to get that word into Erickson's subconscious as early as possible. "...disciples..." Pat continued. "I can assure you, Mr. Howe, if that is your purpose for being here, to take over our firm...which my father has spent his lifetime building...you are wasting your time. In fact, my father is so adamant that he even refuses to see you. He asked me to see you ONLY as a business courtesy. So, in response to your question, Mr. Howe, I despise the name Patrick, my friends call me Pat, but you may address me as Mr. Erickson!" Inwardly, Glenn smiled. "Oh good," he thought to himself, "a defiant one. They always prove to be the most fun to manipulate and subjugate...and this one has such a nice firm body which I am going to enjoy having at my beck and call!" But to his prey, "I see. Then Mr. Erickson it shall be...for now. But then, to be consistent, I would like you to address me as Dr. Howe!" There was a hurried knock on the door, and before Erickson could respond, a young man rushed in. "Sorry about the interruption, Pat, but I thought you should see these figures!" As Erickson examined the document, Glenn carefully studied the intruder, whom he judged to be an inch shorter than his own 6'3" and weighing about 220...a very muscular 220. (With the proper training, Glenn thought, he would make a very good lure for other fish.) "Yes, yes...this is what I expected," Pat remarked. Then, remembering the visitor, Pat quickly changed the subject. "Forgive my rudeness, Mr. Howe, this is Mike Miller, our best salesman." The two men exchanged a firm handshake. "Well, Michael, I can see by your build that you must use your own products." Blushing, Miller replied, "I prefer Mike...(not another one, thought Howe)...but thank you for noticing. Actually, using our workout machines has two advantages...I am walking evidence as to what our machines can do, which helps my sales pitch...and when I turn on the charm, I can turn even the most religious of females into shimmying jello by flirting with my muscles!" "With those pecs, I'm sure you turn some male's heads as well," Glenn teased, causing the red in Miller's face to deepen. Howe continued, "Do I detect a Southern accent, Mr. Miller?" "Why yes, I got my MA at the University of Alabama..." "Ah, The Tide...you guys have been getting your asses beat by The Gators of late..." "That's only because they have been getting better Negro players than us." (The use of that "N" word did not go unnoticed by Howe. "So, Michael looks down on Blacks, does he!" he thought.) "Yes, THEY have..." "You went to Florida?" "Yes, me and my number two man. I would like you to meet him someday..." "Stay away from my people, Howe...especially Mike...understand!" Erickson said with some irritation in his voice. "Tell you what, after he leaves your office, I won't set eyes on him again...unless you give your blessing...and are there in person." "Well, that will never happen," Erickson shot back. Then, turning to Miller, he nodded towards the door, indicating he was to leave. Miller got the message and, after another handshake, took his leave. "I mean what I said, Howe...stay away...now, where were we...?" "I had just requested that you address me as Doctor..." "Doctor? ...There is no data in our dossier on you that you are a Doctor...but this is immaterial, however, as after your short presentation to me...what did I tell you I would allow...one half hour...we will not be seeing each other again! But you have me curious...just what is your degree in...Mr. Howe?" "Psychology...with a special interest in the subconscious. The fact that you were not aware is by my design. I purposely keep a low profile when it comes to my achievements in this field...except for those I choose." "And you have chosen me..." Pat asked in a mocking voice. "Yes...I have chosen you, Pat-trick..." (thinking of the tricks he would soon have this young muscular stud performing to fulfill his need for sexual satisfaction). "I told you I dislike the name Patrick, Mis...eh...Doctor." The fact that Patrick had, even in his anger, corrected himself and used the term he was instructed to use both pleased and excited Glenn. It showed that Patrick's subconscious was every bit as pliable and obedient as his profile had predicted. "Well, I am a very persuasive man...who's to say what I'll have you believing, accepting as gospel, agreeing to do, and wantoning before you've finished viewing my presentation!" (The use of the word 'wantoning' was a subtle trick...using a word which sounded similar to another but with a much more provocative meaning. Though Patrick did not consciously catch it, Glenn knew Patrick's subconscious would be excited by its use.) "I for one can...and I'm telling you you're wasting both your and my time. I shan't be swayed by any of your mind games! My willpower is as strong as yours. Now, I suggest you begin as you've already cutting into your allotted time, and I have a lunch date with my fiancée." ("Not only shall I have you swaying to my mental manipulations, my big hot stud," Glenn thought to himself, "but I intend to program you to my liking and needs as well! As far as lunch is concerned, I think you're going to break it, of your own 'free will' as well as canceling all of your afternoon appointments just so you can spend it here alone with me in your office!") "Very well. A moment ago you referred to your father's refusal to see me. This is actually the reaction I expected and planned for. You see, Mr. Erickson, it is you whom I intend to convert. Your father is old and shall be retiring soon. It is a well-known fact that when he does, you shall be the big boy around here." "Now just a minute..." Patrick interrupted. "Shhhhhhhhhhhhh," Glenn urged (since he had begun his mental attack on Patrick's brain, Glenn had been subtly lowering his voice, luring Patrick's subconscious into concentrating all the more on his every word), "this is my half hour...to give me the slightest chance, I want you to be a good boy by sitting there and listening...only speaking when I require you to...you will do that for me...won't you?...It's only fair..." As he spoke, Glenn wiggled his index finger in a side-to-side motion. To his excitement, Patrick's eyes followed the movement of the finger. "Only fair..." Patrick responded in a whisper as his head nodded while his eyes continued to follow the swaying finger. Glenn also noticed that Patrick's voice had lowered to match his own...another good sign that he was succumbing to Glenn's manipulative powers. Now to spin a sexual cocoon around this heterosexual caterpillar and transform him into a submissive, obedient homosexual butterfly. "Good boy," Glenn purposely used the phrase "boy" as often as possible to condition his prey to its sound. Glenn slowly moved his finger up to in front of his face so that now, as Patrick followed the movement of the finger, he stared unknowingly into Glenn's deep brown eyes. "Now, I have prepared a very special presentation for you. Take this disk and load it into your drive." He was talking almost in a whisper now, but Patrick heard him loud and clear as he obediently took the disk and inserted it into his PC. "Now put on your earphones...""We don't want to disturb your secretary who is sitting right outside the door. Now type b:\takeover...." Hit enter.... Patrick again did exactly as told, never once taking his eyes off Glenn's deep, seemingly bottomless brown spheres. As soon as he hit enter, however, a bright multicolored spiral began spinning on his screen. The pattern was so seductive that Patrick's eyes were immediately lured to it, and he was captivated. In unison, a combination of musical notes began to filter into Patrick's brain through the earphones. Anyone hearing these sounds over a speaker would judge them as a collection of unrelated notes. Nothing could be further from the truth. In fact, they were very specific sounds, designed for a very definite purpose. The sounds coming through the left earphone were different than those coming through the right, each targeting the side of the brain that heard it. Glenn continued to observe Patrick's eyes. In them, he could see the mesmerizing dance of the sphere. The combination of the sphere and the music had their intended results as Patrick's eyes became completely dilated. "First the eyes, now the mind," Glenn thought. A soothing voice began to whisper directly into Patrick's innermost thought receptors. "Glenn is so handsome, so sexy, so desirable, so trustworthy. Glenn is my friend. Glenn is so handsome, so sexy, so desirable, so trustworthy. Glenn is my friend. Glenn is so handsome, so sexy...." This compelling chant repeated itself over and over again. It was not long before Patrick's lips first mouthed and then whispered this thought as it was drummed into him. The next phase of Patrick's enslavement began. Both the image and the sound changed, inducing stress in anyone watching and wearing the headphones. The stress became evident on Patrick's face. The voice on the disk (Glenn's voice) returned, "Feel the stress. Glenn can free you. Ask Glenn to rub you. Feel the stress. Glenn can free you. Ask Glenn to rub you. Feel the stress..." "Doctor Howe, please rub my neck!" "Of course, my boy, anything to please...." "Your boy, anything to please," repeated Patrick. Glenn loved this whole technique. To him, the seduction was so erotic. He moved behind Patrick, removed his tie, and unbuttoned his shirt, slowly pulling the shirt over the growing bulge in his pants. Though he still wore the shirt, Patrick's neck and muscular chest were now completely exposed to Glenn's manipulative fingers. Glenn did not miss his cue. He began to give Patrick a massage like none other he had ever received. He paid particular attention to the nerves at the base of the brain and to Patrick's well-developed pecs. Relax the brain, stimulate the body. As programmed, the screen image and sounds which Patrick saw and heard again changed, reinforcing in his now very receptive mind how safe he was when in Glenn's hands. Glenn's recorded voice now coaxed Patrick's eyes to close. "Your eyes are so heavy, tired and heavy, heavy and tired. You cannot keep them open. Try to resist, try to keep them open, to watch the pretty swirling spiral. The harder you try, the heavier your eyelids become. The harder you try, the HARDER you become (now as he massaged his nipples). Harder, HARDER, heavier, heavier, as your eyes close, you continue to see the swirling spiral. Sleep, sleep, sleep. Do you see the spiral, Patrick?" "...Yes..." Patrick whispered. Glenn now removed the headphones from Patrick's head as he aroused the pecs of his entranced prey. With his mouth now just inches from Patrick's ear, Glenn whispered hotly, "You like it when I call you Patrick, it turns you on. Patrick, hot, Patrick, horny Patrick, see the spiral and say it...." "...Like you to call me Patrick, makes me hot, makes me horny...." "Patrick, hot, Patrick, horny...." "Patrick, hot, Patrick, horny...." "You like it when I call you boy, because that is what you are, my boy...." "...Like when you call me boy, because that is what I am, your boy." "Patrick, hot, horny, boy....." "Patrick, hot, horny, boy....." "Hot, horny, boy....." "Hot, horny, boy....." "Patrick, do you have plans for tonight and the weekend?" "...Yes...." "Tell me what they are...." "...Picking out wedding rings with my fiancée, making plans for the reception...." "No, Patrick, you have more important things to do...." "More important things....." "Yes, you need to be with me, want to be with me, you want me. REPEAT!" "I need to be with you, I want to be with you, I want you..." "Again..." "I need to be with you, I want to be with you, I want you..." "Open your eyes, boy, gaze at the spinning spiral, pick up the phone, call your fiancée, cancel lunch, and all your plans with her for tonight and the weekend, tell her you have to work...." As Patrick obeyed, Glenn continued to whisper in Patrick's other ear erotic thoughts of submissive obedience. When he hung up the phone, Glenn asked Patrick what she had said. "She was pissed...." "It's okay, she was pissed. You know you NEED TO BE WITH ME. REPEAT!" "It's okay, she was pissed. I know I need to be with you..." "You NEED TO BE WITH ME." "I need to be with you." "Good boy. You will come to me tonight. You will not make any other plans or tell anyone else where you are going. For the rest of the day, you will think of nothing else but your desire, your need to come to me tonight, to be with me tonight and for the entire weekend, all day, all night. Do you understand, boy?" "Yes, I understand." "Good boy. Tell me what you lust to do tonight and tomorrow and Sunday." "I lust to come to you, I need to be with you, tonight, tomorrow, and Sunday, all day, all night!" "Yes, boy, all day, all night, nothing matters except you, except me, especially me, and your desires to please me. REPEAT, boy!" "...all day, all night, nothing matters except you and my desires to please you!" "It will be our secret," Glenn whispered hotly in Patrick's ear as he daringly cupped the bulge in Patrick's pants. Patrick was now so completely under Glenn's hypnotic influence that all he could do was sigh erotically, "...our secret...." Stroking Patrick's hard cock through his pants, Glenn led him yet deeper, "You like having secrets with me, Patrick. Tell me, boy!" "I like having secrets with you...." "We shall have many secrets, each will reinforce your allegiance to me, each you will find more erotic than the one before it. You like erotic secrets, don't you, Patrick!" It was a command, not a question. "Yes...." "Patrick, be a good boy and remove the disk, hand it to me!" "Now, Patrick, when I count to five, you shall awaken. You shall feel relaxed and refreshed. You shall be in awe of me from both a physical and business sense. You shall have no conscious remembrance of anything which has transpired. You will only know that we have more to talk about. The fact that your shirt is open will seem very natural. You shall stand up and dress yourself in front of me without giving it a second thought. You shall not feel awkward about the hardness of your cock, it will seem so natural. You shall look forward to being with me tonight. Do you understand?" "Yes." "Even when fully conscious, you will remain completely susceptible to my suggestions and commands. Say it for me, Patrick!" "Even when fully conscious, completely susceptible to your suggestions and commands...." "Yes, susceptible to my suggestions and commands. You want to please me. Say it!" "I want to please you....." "I excite you like no one you have ever known....." "You excite me like no one I have ever known......" (Patrick had slipped yet further under Glenn's hypnotic spell because he now repeated his master's words without being prompted. It just seemed so natural to repeat, and when he repeated, when he heard his own voice speak the words, it gave powerful credence to the meaning of the words!) "I excite you and you NEED TO PLEASE ME!" "You excite me, I need to please you...." "Whenever you hear me say the phrase 'Please me, boy,' your conscious mind will immediately sleep, your subconscious mind will replace it, and you shall be TOTALLY OBEDIENT to my will. Do you understand, boy?" "Yes, I understand...." "Good boy, you please me....." (Glenn observed how Patrick's cock visually hardened when he heard that.) Then, noticing the expensive Rolex watch Patrick wore on his wrist, Glenn added, "You desire to give me something of great value to prove your sincerity to continue our talks, don't you, boy Patrick!" Again, it was a suggestive command, not a question. "Yes...." "Very good, boy. One, two, three, four, FIVE. Well, that's my allotted half hour, Patrick. Oh, I forgot, you do not like the name Patrick...." "Patrick is just fine, Master, er, I mean, Doctor," Patrick said with a confused look on his face. "Nonetheless, thank you for your time. I guess we will not be seeing one another again...." "To the contrary, Doctor, I truly desire to continue our discussion. How about tonight, at your place?" "Tonight, my place, I don't know....""You're not leading me on, are you, Patrick?" "No, not at all. Here, please take my Rolex watch as a token of my interest in seeing you again, Doctor." "Your Rolex? Well, if you insist..." "Yes, I insist. Until tonight, Doctor. I'll call my lawyers and arrange for someone to come with me." "No! No lawyers are necessary!" "But I will need someone to give me advice..." Howe made use of Patrick's susceptibility to his suggestions even when conscious. "Lawyers are a bad idea. I won't need one, and when you think about it, you do not need one to come with you, do you?" After a brief silence, Howe repeated, "You do not need a lawyer to come with you, do you?" "No, I do not need a lawyer to come with me." "But you need an ally, someone to give you advice, won't you?" "Yes." "I would like you to bring Miller with you, just you and Miller." "But Miller is only a salesman." "Yes, but your best salesman, your best, your best. Who better to bring than your best, don't you agree, Patrick?" "Yes, best to bring my best." "Michael is your best." "Michael is my best." "You shall bring Michael!" "I shall bring Michael!" "And you shall swear him to secrecy. No one must know, not even your father. He will be against it because it is your idea. Do you understand?" "Yes, only Miller, secrecy, no one must know, not even my father." "He is jealous of you." "He is jealous of me." "Good boy. You have pleased me!" Howe chuckled to himself as a wet spot appeared in Patrick's crotch. "Now, give me the token of your interest in continuing our discussions!" Until tonight, Patrick, my boy," Glenn said as Patrick took the watch off his wrist and handed it to the sexy male who stood before him. Something about the way Glenn said "...boy..." caused Patrick's cock to twitch. To be continued... Suggestions and comments welcomed.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/9162.txt

Andrew Roller

Dungeon of Desire

"How can I...?" Dick hesitated to broach the question. It implied that they were there for impure purposes. Perhaps they might have inspected the dungeon and then simply left, to play in bed, perhaps, the dungeon just a curiosity. But held obscenely by his erect member, Dick could no longer entertain that fantasy. He needed and wanted now. His own captivity made him harder and hungrier. "How can I fuck?" Dick asked bluntly. "How can I get off? I came here to have fun and to fuck, not to be stuck in some wall!" Dick yanked himself back, slamming his fists into the plywood. But the board barely trembled. Dick, on the other hand, grunted painfully as his cock found it absolutely could not withdraw. Jennifer squealed. She watched as the prongs held Dick firm, pressing and digging into his fleshy column, even making it stretch out a little, as he tried to draw his hips back. And the rings, the awful rings, held his cock in a toothsome grip. "My, my, such dirty thoughts for a clean-cut Citadel graduate," Katy tsked. She patted his buttocks. "Well, don't worry, Officer Dick, I'll see that you're made to be good. We have whips here for just such a purpose. And paddles, and crops. I'll let you pick your poison in a minute." Katy turned and slipped, liquid-like, over to Kelly. She was upon her before she had time to think. Kelly was still too busy staring at her powerful boyfriend, his Herculean body made utterly captive by a few well-placed rings around his penis. Katy lifted Kelly's bottom with her palm, making her straighten a little. She cupped both Kelly's large breasts with her other hand and did her best to gather her bosoms and aim her nipples into the holes. Jennifer waited, with bated breath, on the other side. "Get them in, dear. Time to have the tips of your breasts milked," Katy said quietly, certainly, not giving Kelly any chance to argue. She must have done this trick before because, despite Kelly's ample bosom and the smallness of her palm, she managed to squeeze and direct the tips of her breasts into the small, waiting holes. Kelly felt her nipples slide within the mouth-like openings. Katy pressed a palm hard against her back. Kelly's chin bumped the wall and then her head lofted back. Her breasts pressed themselves to the plywood. And, within the holes now, she felt her stiff nipples suddenly captured. Jennifer screwed the rings down. They were much smaller than the rings which held Dick. Their greased bodies of steel closed on Kelly's nipples and she felt little prongs touch and tip their way into the flesh of her teats. And she knew. Hearing Jennifer giggle, she felt the awful truth. The prongs, pressing into her skin just behind the very tip of each of her nipples, left the actual ends of her nipples looking like little mouths gasping for air. She felt a tongue-flick. Jennifer was licking her nipples! Just the mouthing tips, where a baby might draw milk. She tasted each provoked nipple tip tentatively. Then she licked again. Kelly felt like a mother, offering herself to her child. But she didn't want to be like this. It was so awful, having her nipples held, the prongs distorting the ends of her nipples and Jennifer tasting them like they were little rosebuds that needed suckling to open. "No!" she gasped. Katy only laughed. Jennifer, behind the board, laughed. And then the worst happened. The little imp who had wet Kelly's breasts with her tongue flipped a switch. Kelly didn't hear the switch get flipped but she felt the result. A small electric current flowed through the rings and the prongs that held her and it shocked her nipples. She screamed. Dick cried out like a warlock made captive in Hell. The current subsided. "There, that should keep you both on your best behavior," Katy laughed. Jennifer giggled and wanted to shock them again but Katy forbid it. "Only if I say so, dear Jennifer. I want to use it as a method of control for now. I still have to chain them both up!" Katy lifted Kelly's arms. She did not resist. She could not. She was still too busy gasping from the shock little Jennifer, now definitely her former friend, had given her. Katy raised both her arms and then pinned them together with only one of her hands. She gripped her lightly, like a butterfly, knowing she dared not resist. Then she slipped a padded leather cuff down over each of her hands. Kelly's fingers struggled and tried to resist the descent of each cuff, but she only fought with half her strength, not wanting to get in trouble, and she did not move her wrists. Jennifer closed each cuff over Kelly's wrists. She was clasped tight within the padded leather. The cuffs were connected to each other by a very short chain. It was like wearing handcuffs. The big chain from which the cuffs descended down from the ceiling had a hook in it. It permitted the chain to be drawn down but kept it from sliding back up. Once secured, Kelly was left to hang. Her nipples were caught and her wrists were held high over her head. She glanced fearfully at Katy. She only smiled. She kissed her cheek. She licked her earlobe. "You are so precious. I'll have fun torturing you," she said. "Now let's get these little legs of yours apart. I want to have complete access to you, my dear. You're too lovely not to penetrate in every available place!" She pushed apart Kelly's knees. Kelly felt them slide across the pink beach towel and knew she'd rather be lying on the towel, out in the air, under the sun, even if it meant getting burned all over. For here, only some places of her stood to get burnt, and she knew where they lay on her body. Her huddling asscheeks, perhaps the slope of her soft back and her nervous, well-formed thighs. Perhaps, wickedly, a whip curling around to tease her as it struck against her, upon her belly or her sloping breasts. Katy clamped the ends of a spreader bar within Kelly's opened thighs. She imprisoned her right above her knees. Kelly felt utterly open, her tight cunny hanging down, offering itself in a futile gesture of sacrifice. Her pinhole bottomhole felt its hidden place between the cheeks of her butt exposed to the light and the air. Whereas Dick, obviously, was held with his hips slammed up against the wall, Kelly was held to the wall by her bosoms. Her bottom hung free. Her belly had no contact with the wall. She was like a bitch offering her bottom to the male. Katy encouraged her to dip her back more and show more of her heinie and her spread ass to her. She flicked a finger along the lips of Kelly's cunny, making her shudder. She separated her hair so that it fell away from her back and in front of her, leaving her backside and back completely exposed. "I'm going to gag you," Katy said to Kelly. She did not say why. She called to Jennifer, who stood singing a little song behind the plywood, admiring Dick and playing her fingers along his trapped penis. "Bring me a gag for Kelly," Katy told Jennifer. The girl went to a shelf and took down a strip of rawhide. She brought it to her Mistress and Katy opened Kelly's lips and put the rawhide into her mouth. It tasted something like beef jerky, and she pushed it deep into her mouth so that she could not clench her teeth together. Kelly felt her tongue jammed back and knew she would be making no small talk anytime soon. The polite conversation they had enjoyed at their tea party was over. Satisfied that Kelly was completely hers, that she could do whatever she wished with her, Katy stood admiring her for a moment. Like a woman does, jealously. Her fingers touched her and she finally used both hands to press at and hold the trembling cheeks of Kelly's bottom. She seemed in awe of her heinie. "You have such a precious little bottom," Katy told Kelly, a touch of envy in her words. "It's so white and resilient."Irresistible, really. I'm going to put some weals on it for you. You'll feel very proud when you can show Sauron how you've suffered for him. They'll be trophies, really, your little weals. You can bend over for him and lift your skirt and say, 'Here, Sauron, this is my gift to you. I did this to show you that even though I'm naughty sometimes and make you angry, I do still love you. Here's proof! I had myself punished just so I could be your beloved again, faithful and true, guiltless and ever so loving." Jennifer, meanwhile, so that our punishment would not be needlessly delayed, had put herself in charge of trussing up Dick's limbs. She was not tall enough to simply raise up his arms. She had to mount the bench and stand there, child-like, beside him. With her bottom quivering behind her, still showing the marks of her own punishment, she lofted up Dick's arms, one by one. They were big and heavy and muscled, and he did not help her. He made her lift his arm all by herself. She sounded like she was lifting a tree trunk, I thought, as she gasped out grunts in doing her work. A veritable Junior Amazon, Jennifer finally managed to get both Dick's arms uplifted and belted into a pair of overhanging cuffs. Unlike my wrists, which were held submissively together, connected by a short handcuff-like chain, Dick's wrists were spread far apart. He looked like Samson holding up the roof of the king's palace. And, when Jennifer got his legs apart, and fixed into a spreader bar, one might have thought he was the Pillars of Hercules. I wanted to sail a little boat between his legs and look up and admire his manly balls. We were roped up at last, bound and gagged and caught by our most private parts, like sails affixed to the mast and the yardarms, ready to take on the winds of the open sea. I looked at Dick. He glanced over at me. We were both gagged, but I somehow communicated, I thought, to him that I loved him and loved that he'd come with me to Sauron's. His eyes were glazed. It was, absent Sauron, a man's dream come true. Three lovely young females, all scurrying around him as if he were king, yet playing tricks on him at the same time. There was no doubt that he was well loved, even as they contemplated torturing him. He had a fine body and plenty of muscles, and he was an Officer to boot, fresh from the Citadel, trained in all the ways of a Southern gentleman. And he was theirs! Girls, no matter how pretty they are, always stand in awe of a truly fine man and wet themselves over him. Now they had one all to themselves, to play with and tease as much as they pleased. Even as she'd put his arms up into the cuffs, Jennifer had openly admired them. And as she'd spread his legs, she'd admired him even more. Katy mused over the implements on the wall and chose a slim, whippy riding crop. I shivered. It would sting and weal me if she chose to use it at its full potential, swinging it hard. She walked behind myself and my lover. She snapped her wrist. The whip ricocheted through the air, making me tremble. My nipples winced in their clamps. Dick flinched, giving his penis an unwanted jerk that caused the tongs to dig into his organ. Katy seemed to want to start with me. After all, she had only one crop. She slipped close to me and stroked my waist and kissed my face. "Now, darling, I just want you to concentrate on the sensations of your body, both the good and the bad," she purred. She kissed me again. "I must awaken you in all your aspects." Then she stepped back behind me. I heard her feet prance as she leapt in toward me and gave herself a practice swing. Then she withdrew again and, coming forward once more, she let fly her wrist. SWWWICK! I yelped as her crop zinged into my flesh...I need a (discount) carpet cleaner! -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | +----------------------------------------------------------------+

Chapter Four

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/9442.txt

Lord Malinov

The Romantic

"I love you!" The girl's squeal of adoration cut through the screaming applause of the audience. Richard smiled at the sound and took one more quick bow before starting down the cluttered backstage path. The mass of voices followed him in thundering echoes as he strode quickly past the lines of congratulating hands to reach the limo parked outside. Inside, Richard leaned back, breathing deeply. His manager handed him a drink. "Fantastic," said Stephen, nodding rapidly. "Couldn't go much better than that." Richard downed the glass of bourbon. "Thanks," he said, wiping his mouth on his white satin sleeve. He picked up a pack of Camels and tore away the cellophane. "Beautiful audience. Not like Sacramento." He smacked the package against his left palm and ripped at the silver folds. Richard's hands trembled slightly as he worked his way inside. "It's so much easier to sing with such pretty girls all around." He flipped a cigarette out of the tight bundle and stuck it on his lip. Stephen thrust a flame beneath the tip. "Thanks," mumbled Richard, taking a deep hit of the dry smoke. "Preston wanted me to ask you to drop by the Stardust. He's having a..." "No," said Richard. "I told him you were beat, but he wanted...." "No," said Richard again. "I'm going back to my room and get some sleep. My nerves are edgy." "I know, I know," said his manager, trying to console. "Look, Angelica, one of the company's promotion people told me that her niece is dying to meet you. I suggested, well, she might...." "Yeah," said Richard, closing his eyes. "Send her around." Twenty minutes later, his hotel room door closed with a satisfying click, and Richard drooped slightly, finally freed. He walked over to the bed, sat down and took off his shoes. Picking up the phone, he punched the numbers his manager had written down. "Stephen? Looks good. Is she coming? Great. Have them hold my calls. Yeah, I'll let you know. Not before ten." Richard sat the receiver back in its cradle and stepped over to the window. The city stretched out in black glittering motion below. Even at midnight, the lights of transit poured red and yellow in lean streams. Richard sighed, imagining a room, so far away, where he could really rest; the chair, his chair, molded by evenings to his weary form; the piano, scarred and perpetually drifting from tune; the smile of a woman who loved him for more than vocal intonations. Richard looked down, and sighed again. The pack of Camels appeared in his hand. He lit another cigarette and poured himself a glass of champagne. A knock came through the door. "It's Terri," a young voice spoke. "Stephen sent me." Richard opened the chained door cautiously. A girl of nineteen, maybe twenty, stood in the hallway, smiling broadly, wringing her hands. In a decisive instant, Richard looked her over critically. She had pale brown hair, almost blonde, probably a touch of color to lighten it, curls added by heat in looping rings past her shoulders. Her eyes were green, probably colored contacts masking ordinary brown eyes. She had a smooth, creamy complexion, quite nice, well painted to increase her allure, but her lips were perhaps a touch too thin. Her frame was medium, not a small girl, but not big either. Richard smiled. Her breasts looked firm under the ruffles of her silky black blouse, not inflated but substantial. A slight tummy, delightfully feminine, could be seen where the blouse met her skirt. Lean legs encased in dark silk emerged from beneath the hem of black leather. Richard wished for a fleeting moment she would turn around, but at the same time reached up to unchain the door. Terri would do. "Come in," he said smoothly. "Come in." The girl seemed frozen as she suddenly faced her idol, but with a touch of his hand, she moved stiffly through his door. Her green eyes fixed firmly on him, a stare so hard that Richard felt compelled to turn away, walking ahead of her into the room. "Make yourself comfortable," he said. "Can I get you a glass of champagne?" "Wow," the young woman muttered, looking around at the plush setting of the suite. "Sure," she said. Richard poured her a glass and refilled his own. He handed her the crystal flute and touched his to hers with a gentle tink. "Nice to meet you, Terri, did you say?" "Terri," she said, gulping down a swig of the sparkling wine. The alcohol seemed to calm her at once. "You were great." "You saw the show?" he asked, flattered. "I wouldn't have missed it for anything," Terri began to bubble with enthusiasm, having touched a favorite subject. "I'll be there tomorrow night, too. I saw your show in August, too. You are so great." Richard gestured for her to sit beside him on the bed. Terri sat down with a flop, spilling a splash of champagne over her hand. "Oh," she squealed. Richard took gently ahold of her wrist and kissed the wine from her pale fingers. "Ooh," said Terri, utterly delighted by the singer's attentive gesture. "I thought it went well," he said quietly. "You were fantastic. I wanted you to sing 'Meadows' so badly and when you did, I thought I was going to faint, I got so excited. And then you sang, 'In Twilight,' and that was incredible because I never heard you sing that one and I've always wanted to hear you, it was my favorite album for so many years, until 'Songs of Love' came out, and then I wanted...." "Terri," Richard interrupted her babbling praise. "I'm flattered, but all day long people talk to me about my songs, and I'd really just like to talk about other things. I'm a person, too." "Oh," said Terri, blushing and thoughtful. "I didn't mean to act like a crazed fan or something." She turned away, frowning. Richard glimpsed the swell of white bosom as her blouse sagged away. "Do you have a boyfriend?" he asked, his eyes still fixed on the slow rise and fall of her tantalizing bit of chest. "Yes," she said shyly. "I'm sorry," he said. "We don't have to talk about that, if you don't want to. But I don't get to know people anymore, not really, and well, I'm a romantic. I like to hear people talk about love." Terri looked into his dark eyes, touched. "I understand," she said. "Do you love him?" he asked. "Yes," she said strongly, "very much. Just madly." "Is he handsome?" "Oh, yes. I mean, he's just a guy, but I like the way he looks." Terri stumbled over her words. "He's lucky," said Richard, bravely. "I envy him." "Jack?" Terri laughed. "But he's just a... I mean... You've got everything!" "When I was a younger man, maybe Jack's age, I had everything. I had a girl who loved me dearly, and the whole world before me. That was when my first album came out." "Dark Nights." "I envy him, because he has you. When I signed my contracts, they gave me a king's ransom, but they never told me what it would cost." "Oh, Richard." Terri's young voice rippled with pathos. "She married another man, and I've never seen her since." "That is so sad." "I envy the love you have for Jack. I would trade all of this, just to feel that love again." Richard turned his face away, hiding the burst of emotion that threatened to erupt. Terri put her hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry," she said. "But we all love you, you sing so beautifully, and well, I love you." "Do you?" "Yes. Very much." "It's not the same." "Still," said Terri, thoughtfully, "it's something." Richard turned at once and kissed the girl. She melted, overwhelmed by the touch of his lips, and as his arms wrapped around her, she gave herself away. Strong hands caressed her warm body as his kiss grew moist and feverish. Terri threw her arms around the singer made man. "Oh, God," she moaned, "I love you." They rolled over the bed, kissing madly. Pulling her blouse from the skirt, he found her breasts beneath. She yanked the silk over her head and unclasped her brassiere. He suckled her stiffened nipples, sending shivers down her spine. Terri felt the hard throb of his manhood pressed against her thigh. "Fuck me, Richard," she said, letting the words roll wickedly past her lips, savoring the thought as his hands roamed down to lift her leather skirt and squeeze her full behind. "I'll love you, Richard. I'll love you." Terri licked her lips. "Fuck me, Richard." He knelt between her spread long legs and looked into the sultry gaze of her eyes. Terri shuddered in delight. Richard slipped his strong hands down the length of her lean thighs, indulged himself in a moment's anticipation.Taking hold of her white lace panties and with a sudden jerk, he tore the fragile fabric from her waist. "Oh my God," moaned Terri. Richard lifted the shredded panties to his face and smiled as he tossed them away. Leaning down, he thrust his face into Terri's dripping snatch, pushing his maestro's tongue between the scarlet lips, framed in dark curls, into the swampy pit of her young cunt. "Ooh," she whimpered, and as he lapped the hot froth, he wordlessly sang her favorite song. She grasped his hair and pulled him closer. He tickled her hard clit. Leaping forward as the shudders overcame her, Richard impaled his burning cock into Terri's hole, and thrusting with a wild mambo beat, he soaked her womb in his mad lust. He looked into her subdued eyes as the ecstasy rippled through him, filling her love with adoration. Spent, Richard collapsed beside her on the bed, breathing deeply. Terri leaned over to suck the scent from his receding prick. He teased her hair with gentle fingers, encouraging her devotions, falling into quiet lethargy. She moved up close beside him and pressed her lips to his. Richard kissed her, sweetly. "Do you really love me?" he asked. "Yes, Richard," Terri said. "I love you." "I mean really," he said, his voice falling dim. "Really?" "More than you will ever know." "I mean, if I come back, when the tour's over in June, if I come back, you'd go away with me?" "Richard!" said Terri sharply. "Don't tease me like that." "I'm not," he said, sitting up. "I'll come back in June." "Yes," she said lovingly. "I'd do anything for you." "You'll have to go," he said. "I have to sleep, and with you here I won't." Terri giggled and blushed. Richard continued. "Tomorrow's full of press and meetings and appearances, and then there's the show to do and if I don't sleep, it will kill me." "I understand," said Terri, reaching for her blouse. "Here's some paper," he said, taking a pad from the hotel table. "Write your name and address and number down for me. I'll be in touch." Terri stepped over to the table and Richard watched contentedly as the naked girl scribbled, admiring the roundness of her creamy bottom over the dark furrow of her cunt, still dripping with their juices. She handed him the pad, smiling lasciviously and pulled her skirt down. Richard kissed her again, deeply, and led her to the door. "I love you," she said, blowing him a kiss as the door closed. "Goodbye, Terri," he replied. Walking over to his bag, Richard brought out a large scrapbook. Flipping through the pages, he came to a blank page, three quarters of the way through. Carefully, he taped Terri's note onto the page. "She was sweet," he thought, turning the page back. Melissa. Janet. Francie. Elizabeth. "One of the best," he said. Richard replaced the scrapbook in his bag and picked up the phone, punching the numbers deftly. "Stephen? Yeah. Fabulous. You have exquisite taste. Did Mary call? I had a feeling. No, I'll tell her. Listen, would you send Terri some flowers? Yeah, she was sweet. Have them say 'dream of me, love Richard'. It's the least I can do. No, she already has tickets. All right. Good night." Richard pressed down the button in the cradle, paused and then lifted his finger to arouse another dial tone. He punched a longer set of numbers familiarly. "Mary? Did I wake you? Yeah. Good show, I think. I tried to sleep, but I kept thinking of you. I don't know, just a feeling. We must be in tune or something. Stephen says I'll be home on the third for the week, but we have to spend the sixth and seventh at some resort. I know. I'm sorry. Maybe you could... I know. You know I will. I've got to get some sleep, but tell me again. I love you, too." Richard hung up the phone and stopped to stare out the window. A plane roared overhead, tiny lights flashing, headed far away. He lit another cigarette, letting the heat fill his tired lungs. "So far away," he muttered. Looking down, Richard's heart sank in anticipation of another dark night, alone.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/8999.txt

Spoonbender

The Legend 7 - The Icon

"She's here!" The whisper spread around the village like wildfire. The goddess of plenty had arrived. Their next harvest would be a bountiful one. The gods would take care of it. It has been ordained. A rhythmic chant went up, while the villagers dropped to their knees in supplication as the young woman, in the flowing white robe, walked gracefully by. Flanked by her bodyguards, and some say, her tormentors. She stepped daintily through the sucking mud that succeeded the three-day rainstorm, her sandals barely denting the surface, so light was she. The headman, who alone could look her in the eye, stepped forward as the rest of the village cringed dutifully. Only a few may look a goddess in the eye. Even a fallen one like this. In any event, they couldn't have looked into her eyes, which she kept shamefully downcast. The headman grunted and paid the bountiful tribute of the glittering stones to the temple followers that surrounded her. That, and the act that was to follow, would ensure that the forest would yield up its bounteous fruits and the tribe would survive another year. It was just. It was proclaimed. It was the legend. It was foretold around many a campfire, while the forest rustled in the darkness. It was said she was the daughter of the most high god. The mightiest god of all. And she had displeased him, as daughters were wont to do. So he gave her a task. A sacred mission to fulfill. She was to be the keeper of the garden, mother earth herself. And it was thus that she could change her shape, her hair, her looks. A goddess, taking many forms, as is her birthright. And her perpetual youth, a testimony to her immortality. Every year she was young, and every year she looked different. And of course, she was always beautiful. She was a goddess, after all, and you didn't, couldn't, get ugly goddesses. It was unnatural. The headman took her hand. Her dainty fingers lost in the horny grip of his paw. He tugged her gently towards his hut. She hesitated. But a prod with the stick from one of her guardians urged her on her way. Destiny awaited inside the smoky depths of the foul-smelling hut. The villagers gathered around as the cloths were dropped, decorously shielding the scene inside. She was trembling as the Headman unclasped the hasp on her robe, which fell away to reveal her perfect body to his lustful eyes. Her newest manifestation was ripe. 'It surely would be a bounteous harvest,' he thought as his manhood tried to assert itself through its protective gourd. He tossed the gourd aside to reveal his power, which stood proudly high. She whimpered. Even goddesses were impressed with its size. He led her, resisting, to his sleeping mat. He sat down and pulled her towards him. She fell across him, and he felt, for the first time, her nubile new body. He pushed her flat onto the sleeping mat and insinuated his body between her thighs. She tried, feebly, to push him away. But he knew his duty. His tribe's whole future was at stake. He must consummate the joining of his people and the gods, so he forced her down and open. He tried to kiss her, but she turned away. He was not dismayed. None of the previous manifestations had wanted to kiss either. He fondled her breasts with one hand as he stroked his manhood with the other. It stood straight and true. It was time. He settled between her widespread legs, forcing them wider, as he guided his weapon towards her pit. Earth-bound human, a throwback to the stone-age, entering the pleasure cave of a goddess. His penis entered her, and he heard her gasp, like she did the year before and the years before that. Whatever her new appearance, whether it be large or small, she always gasped as he asserted his maleness within her. This year she was tight. As if she had been hardly used, although he knew the other tribes also made use of her services, as she traipsed the faint trails along the bank of the mighty river. He had to push hard, and he saw crystals of tears pooling in her eyes. This year he really was appeasing the gods, especially the most high. He grunted in happiness and bliss. The gods were good. His mighty lunges forced him deep, widening her ready for the offering of his seed. Creating a seedbed just as his motive offering was urging her to grant them the boon of an overflowing gathering of the fruits of the forest. Faster and faster. Deeper and deeper. Harder and harder. While she bucked and moaned and cried. His back arched. His fingers became talons on her milky breasts as he felt his offering gathering mightily within him. The release, when it came, was like the breaching of a powerful dam unleashing the flood of his juices within her. She cried out as she felt him cum. The natives outside dropped to the floor as they heard the strange, alien language from within the hut. Screamed out. It was the language of the gods, lighter in its timbre and with a softer sibilance than the previous year's manifestation. As if it were a different language. The villagers whispered in awe at the volume of her cries. Truly it would be a plenteous harvest as her lamentations carried into the forest. The headman had worked his miracle well. Inside the hut, Marie Clare, the eighteen-year-old, newly kidnapped daughter of a French Businessman, screamed out in horror as she felt the sudden warmth inside her unprotected womb.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/9613.txt

Rob

The Partners

"So, what say we have a little fun?" asked Mitch. "What do you mean?" asked Linda Draybeck. "Well, Linda, the sky's the limit. Unless you're shy. I don't think Ben here is shy though. Are you, Ben?" "I'm in pig heaven, Mitch, my boy," answered the older man. "You got anything to drink here, by the way?" "Sure. Liquor cabinet's by the window. Help yourself." Henderson nodded and moved to the credenza that housed Mitch's liquor. He spotted an opened bottle of Grand Marnier and grabbed it and a glass. "Let's go have ourselves a party," said Henderson whose pants were already bulging as he grabbed Draybeck by the shoulder and led her toward the basement. Mitch called to them as they opened the door to the cellar. "Here, take these. It's a little cool down there." He handed them each robes and took his own robe as well. The three of them then proceeded down the stairs to the basement. "Let me go first," said Mitch who was already undressing and donning the robe. "I'll get things set up while you two get yourselves ready." They nodded in agreement to him. He sauntered over to the tied girl whose eyes were still closed and cleared his throat to announce his return. "Hello, sunshine," he said. "Guess what, we've got company! And guess what again, they're friends of yours. Let me introduce you to my new partners." He waved his hands with a flourish toward the stairs and added, "Ben, Linda, I believe you know Wendy." She craned her neck to see who Mitch was referring to and what little color that remained in her face drained when she saw Henderson and Draybeck walking toward her and wearing robes similar to the one Mitch was wearing. "Hello, Ms. King," said Henderson with a sneer as he downed some more of the orange-flavored liquor. "May I go first?" he asked Mitch and Draybeck. Draybeck held up her hand in protest. "Ladies first, if you don't mind." Henderson looked dejected, but Mitch consoled him. "Don't worry, Ben," answered Mitch. "There's plenty of time for all of us. You're not going anywhere, are you sweet thing?" he said with a nod toward the struggling girl. Draybeck pursed her lips and looked at Wendy's bound figure. Then, she walked around the desk to which the girl was tied and rummaged through its drawers until she found what she was looking for -- a pair of small binder clips. Similar to clothes pins in their use, Draybeck thought they would do quite nicely for what she had in mind. Next, she rifled through Mitch's work bench where she found some kite string. She returned to the desk and held the two black binder clips before Wendy's eyes. "Your tits are too small to tie but your nipples look oh so fine, Ms. King. Let's dress them up a bit." Wendy's eyes opened wide in horror and she shook her head in angry protest. She screamed into her gag but her mouth was packed so tightly with her panties that no sound came forth. Slowly and deliberately, Draybeck grasped each of Wendy's nipples and affixed a binder clip to them. She smiled as she saw tears appear in the corner of the captive girl's eyes. "You'll get used to it, dear," she said as she looped a length of kite string through each of the binder clips. When she was through and certain that the strings were long enough for her purposes, she gave each a tug. This had the effect of pulling the tightly clamped binder clips upward. Wendy uttered a muffled scream as she arched her back in an effort to ease the tension and she feared her nipples would be torn from her breasts. "Perfect," announced Draybeck. "And that's what I'm going to do if you fail to do exactly as you're told." Draybeck turned to Mitch. "Can I remove the gag?" "Sure, there's no neighbors nearby and even if there were, it's an old house with thick walls. No one will hear her. Go ahead." Draybeck smiled again and began to remove the gray duct tape that Mitch had placed over Wendy's mouth earlier. She then snaked a finger in Wendy's mouth and extracted the panties. Holding them up with a look of absolute disdain, she wiped them on Wendy's face and tossed them aside. She then disrobed to reveal a nice trim body with firm breasts. "Not bad for a girl of 42," she said to no one in particular. Draybeck, Mitch thought as he saw the female partner clad only in her gray panties, was not that unattractive after all. She stepped out of her panties and placed them on the desk. Wendy was licking her lips to relieve the dryness that filled her mouth. Draybeck meanwhile climbed on top of the desk, still holding the strings that were connected to the binder clips attached to Wendy's now erect and reddened nipples. "Okay, bitch, here's the plan," Draybeck began to explain, "I didn't remove your gag because I want conversation. I removed it because you wouldn't be able to lick my pussy if you were still sucking on your filthy panties. So, start licking." Draybeck eased her crotch over Wendy's face and positioned herself so the girl's mouth could perform its assigned task. Wendy shrieked, "No! No! Uuughh," and turned her head to escape Draybeck's plush mound. Draybeck shrugged and gave the strings a jerk. Wendy howled in pain. "If you don't start licking me good, I'm going to rip those nipples right off those tits. Start licking!" With no alternative, Wendy began to lick the older woman's crotch. Draybeck pressed herself hard against the girl's mouth and felt her juices begin to flow. Mitch and Henderson watched and smiled as they observed their prisoner working Draybeck's pussy and heard Draybeck's moans of pleasure. Draybeck's juices flowed into Wendy's mouth and all over her face. The girl would occasionally give a yelp of pain as Draybeck sometimes pulled on the strings for no apparent reason. After about fifteen minutes, Draybeck let go of the strings and climbed off the girl's face. Wendy began crying again but her captors remained unphased as they watched her tears mix with the juices Draybeck had deposited on the bound girl's face. "Oh, here," said Draybeck with a hint of exasperation. "Let me clean you up a little." Draybeck picked up her own panties and ran it over Wendy's face, wiping up the girl's tears and her own fluids. Wendy looked up at Draybeck and opened her mouth to speak, but before she could utter a word, Draybeck shoved her own panties into Wendy's mouth. "Suck on those for a while, whore." She put a few pieces of the duct tape over the girl's mouth to prevent her from spitting her new gag out. Mitch and Henderson laughed as they watched Wendy protest. It had been bad enough having her own soiled panties packed in her mouth, but having Draybeck's panties used as a gag was utterly repulsive. "My turn," announced Henderson, who could barely contain himself. He removed the bathrobe to reveal an ugly, overweight body covered with hair. Wendy was sickened at the thought of Henderson invading her and she stared in muted horror at Henderson's cock which was brimming with anticipation. "Can we flip her over on her belly when I'm ready?" he asked. "Ben, old friend, you can have her hanging upside down if that's your pleasure," Mitch answered. The girl's eyes bulged with fear and she swung her head back and forth in an effort to shut out the inevitable. Henderson smiled and bent over to whisper in her ear. "You little, blackmailing whore. You wanted to be paid. Well, here's your first installment."With that, he removed the binder clips from her nipples and poured the contents of his glass of Grand Marnier on the captive girl, climbed on top of her, and began to lick the sticky liqueur from her body. He licked her face, her arms, her tits, and her legs. All the while, his hairy body rubbed against the frightened girl, who could do nothing to repel him. She looked to Mitch and Draybeck for help, but saw that their attention was riveted to Henderson and his licking frenzy. When he was done, he looked to Mitch and said, "Help me flip the little bitch over. I want to check her out from the rear." Mitch untied her hands while Henderson undid the ropes that bound her legs. Mitch flipped her over and retied the ropes to the desk's legs, but Henderson left her legs free from the cords. Instead, he grabbed her by her ankles and pulled himself forward until his ready shaft was touching her. "I'm going to take her from behind...doggie style," he announced as he plunged his member inside the girl, who was on her hands and knees. In and out it went. She felt Henderson's coffee breath on her neck and thought she would be sick as he continued his merciless assault of her vagina. "Mitch, let's double team her," said Henderson unexpectedly. Mitch smiled and nodded. He reached for her mouth, undid the tape, and removed the gag. Then, he had another idea. He took Draybeck's panties and placed them over Wendy's face so that her nose was stuck in the crotch of the panties, but her mouth was free for Mitch's pleasure. Draybeck and Henderson both applauded Mitch's creativity as he climbed on the desk and forced his cock back into her mouth. Henderson and Mitch quickly fell into a rhythmic pattern as they each pumped their dicks in opposite ends of the girl. "Get ready, Mitch!" yelled Henderson after a few minutes. "I'm going to cum!" Mitch said to his partner, "Just give me the word." "On three," replied Henderson. "One...two...NOW!" Simultaneously, they each let loose, filling her orifices with their salty semen. She felt Henderson's cum dribble down her leg as Mitch's poured down her throat since he would not remove his dick to allow her to spit out his seed. Finally, he removed his cock from her mouth. The helpless girl looked at her captors and meekly said, "What now?" Draybeck approached and answered her. "Well, bitch, there are still three other partners in the firm. Plus, there are associates and support staff bonuses to consider." Henderson snickered. Mitch came up to her and held her face in his hands. "Just think, Wendy, you wanted so badly to be made a partner. Now you're being made by all the partners." He kissed her face and said to his new partners, "Who's ready for more?" THE END

Part 5 -- Company Cums

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/17759.txt

Rod Stiffener

The Legalities of Sex - Part 2

"Come in!" She entered and stood before his desk. She had on a more demure outfit today, just jeans and a sweatshirt. She thought to herself, wait until he saw what was underneath! But at first it was strictly business. "I've looked at your paper. It is good in places but obviously a rush job." He took the time to explain what he would have expected of a really good assignment, knowing as he did so that this delay was just building the sexual tension between them. Oh, when would he shut up and take her into his arms again! Then he put the paper aside, and without getting out of his chair, said, "Come here." It was spoken quietly, but it was an order. She gladly obeyed, coming around the desk to stand before him. This time he was going to tease, to make her beg before he satisfied her. He idly ran his hand over her baggy sweater, going up her hard stomach and circling her high-thrust breasts. Something felt rough and lacey under there, and he made it drag back and forth over her nipples. Then he unzipped the fly of her jeans, poking one finger into the metal-lined aperture. Again, the feeling of rough lace, but loose, and his finger could push under the edge to feel soft, downy pubic hair on her mound. She held her breath for a moment as she enjoyed his touch upon her cunt. "Turn around." Again, spoken like an order. She faced away from him, and he reached around, unsnapping her jeans and pulling them... slowly... down past her hips to expose her buttocks. Surprise! A little something she had borrowed out of her mother's lingerie drawer. A *very* little something. A pink lace g-string that, at the back, was just a narrow strip that disappeared into her butt crack, leaving her buttocks bare. Oh, delicious! Her jeans got thrust rapidly down to her knees as he got his face up close to her ass, licking her smooth firm butt, kissing it, getting his saliva all over it. She felt her rear get wet and cold as he spread his saliva over it, but he had brought his hand up between her legs to touch the gusset of the g-string, and now something else was getting hot! She bent slightly forward so that her pussy lips were now aimed at his face. He tore the pink gusset aside and got down lower, so his tongue could flicker over her delicate sex. She nearly cried out, it was so erotic, so *dirty*, so... so fucking sexy! He must really care for her if he was willing to do that. He stopped. Oh, no! But it was so he could turn her around and shove the sweatshirt up over her head. Surprise number two! A tiny pink bra to match the g-string. It was too small to cover her breasts properly, and barely hid her nipples. He swept the cups apart with his hands and fastened his lips to the exposed nipples. Her smallish breasts stuck straight out from her chest, almost symmetrical, such was their youthfully elastic ability to hold their shape. The strength of his sucking drew one of them out into a sharp cone, almost hurting her but at the same time feeling so heavenly! He was like a man possessed now, no more teasing, his original intentions were forgotten as he tried to possess her young body. He suddenly got up and lifted her bodily onto the desk, scattering papers everywhere. Bending her legs far back from her hips, and opening them as far as her jeans-bound knees would allow, he slathered his tongue over her exposed cunt. With fine downy hairs that made it look almost hairless, it was soon slick and shiny as he thrust his tongue into her virgin pussy and his nose rubbed at her clitoris. Powerful feelings swept through her pelvic region, radiating outwards until she was a gibbering mass of muscular spasms, as there burst within her an orgasm more mind-blowing than anything experienced in her life so far. She collapsed against the desk, jeans at half-mast and tiny pink bra all twisted around. He stood and unzipped his fly. "Down on your knees." She had wondered when he would ask her for this. It was something she had read about, talked to Belinda about, even seen a few pictures about. But she didn't know how she was going to feel when actually face to face with a big, erect penis, one that the owner urgently wanted to have sucked. She knelt as he had asked, and looked at it with a little anxiety. It looked huge! Angry purplish knob with a tiny slit, and a shaft full of veins. Hairy balls swung below. She stuck out her tongue and dabbed the end of it delicately, just tasting it at first. Sharp, a bit whiffy, but not too bad. She looked up into his eyes and he nodded, urging her on. Well, if it was going to make him so happy... She kissed it, chastely at first but then turned it into a French kiss that tongued the little slit on the cap of the helmet. He groaned audibly at the heightening sensations, and the sheer anticipation of what he hoped was coming next. Her lips were wrapped around him now, and a few gentle fuck-thrusts were enough to coax her mouth open wider. Her upturned face looked into his, wide eyes seeking his approval for her first blowjob attempt, approval that he gave by moaning again when she took it deeper and applied suction. This for him was one of the ultimate power trips. A sweet, beautiful thing like her, who could have almost any man she wanted, on her knees before an aging scroat like him, taking his dick into her mouth and *wanting* him to enjoy it! She was inexperienced and not providing quite enough stimulation, but he didn't want to correct or criticize her just yet. She was going to be getting plenty of practice. He got her to concentrate on the tip, taking him in a shallow entry that allowed her to swirl her tongue against the underside of his cockhead while he grasped his shaft at the base and jacked off. She was going to get it. She was going to get it all! Actually, she wondered about that. Whether she would be able to stomach his semen or not. I mean, gross! But it was probably what he wanted. She had learned that much about guys. She decided to tell him of her decision. She pulled away for a moment, and said "You can come in my mouth if you want. I don't mind!" Well, he had been planning to anyway, but just hearing her say the words pushed him over the edge. As her mouth encircled him once more, he beat a frenzy upon the base of his penis and in the next moment he was gushing his seed into her pretty little mouth. She felt herself gagging, almost choking as he filled her up with an acrid taste, a taste unlike anything she had come across before. And there was so much of it! She felt awash, and the thick mucus overflowed onto her chin, forced out by the sheer amount of cock that was stuck into her mouth. He got tissues, as before, and used them to wipe her chin, then the end of his penis. "That was good, Veronica. Very good." She beamed with pride at the compliment. He liked it! And he liked her! And he had done such wonderful things with his tongue on her pussy! "But you better go. Your parents might wonder." No they wouldn't.They were used to her going over to Belinda's place after school. But he was right, they mustn't be found out, though it disappointed her that he wanted her to go so soon. After this, their affair got hot and heavy. They met nearly every day, as often as other commitments would allow. She was addicted to him, and he couldn't resist her adoration. He would have liked to fuck her, and at times was sorely tempted, but he was already getting his fucks elsewhere, so it was not essential that they do that. The buzz with Veronica was not so much the sex act itself. It was having her so willing to fuck, so willing that simply knowing he only had to ask meant that he didn't need to. It was giving him the biggest thrills of his life. The thrill was knowing that he had her where he wanted her; the fact that she would suck his cock at any time was proof of that. And who would not be contented at having their cock sucked by such a sweet, willing young mouth almost every day? Okay, it was improper, it was wrong. Technically, he was not in breach of the school rules nor his contract with the school. But morally, he knew he was betraying the trust of the school, the parents, and of Veronica herself, as the day must surely come when he would have to dump her. Meanwhile, she had been making it obvious to Belinda that she was getting it on hot and heavy with someone. It was coming out in her conversation that she was becoming quite knowledgeable about various sex acts, a knowledge born of personal experience. She wouldn't divulge who with, and Belinda was determined to find out. In fact, she thought she now had a pretty good idea. Veronica never caught the regular school bus to go home with her anymore. One day, she too stayed back late, and from a distance saw Veronica headed down to the Legal Studies classroom. She had followed and entered the classroom, but found it empty and the office door at the far end closed. Where had that girl disappeared to? Could it be Mr. Wynton that she was learning all this sex stuff from? But she hadn't actually seen them together, so could prove nothing. Meanwhile, the two lovebirds' affair was becoming an obsession. Then, one day, disaster! She was half-naked before him in his office, top and bra off but jeans on, slurping him deeply into her mouth in a way she was becoming quite skilled at, when there was a knock on his office door. Shit! They froze, and he held his finger to his lips in a gesture of silence. They waited, but there was the knock again. "Mr. Wynton!" It was Mr. Komett, the Deputy Principal! "Mr. Wynton, can you open up please!" It was obvious that Komett knew he was inside. "Just a minute, Renn." Veronica was pulling her jumper back on, while he stowed away his dick and kicked her bra out of sight under the desk. He opened the door. It was obvious to Komett that they had been keeping the door locked, because Phil had to turn the key noisily before it would open. "Working late, Mr. Wynton?" "Just going over Veronica's test paper with her." "Very good." He looked dubious. "I just came to ask if you could move your car. The janitor needs to get the garbage skip out and you are blocking it." "Oh, sorry! I'll be right down." Mr. Wynton was flushing red, though Veronica was keeping her cool. Games were definitely over for today, and they parted without another word to each other. Next day, he left straight after class and went home. He had got a hell of a shock at being seen with Veronica, and Komett must be suspicious by now. As long as he doesn't get proof! Better play things cool for a bit. Veronica went to the office as usual, and was disappointed to find it locked and nobody answering her knock. In Legal Studies class over the next few days, she sensed a coolness in his attitude toward her. She felt dread in the pit of her stomach that he no longer cared for her. She waited near his car, to get him to say something to her, reassure her in some way. He came, and saw her nearby, as he unlocked his car door. "Mr. Wynton, don't you want to see me anymore?" "Yes, Veronica, I do. Very badly. But we need to lay low for a while. I think we better not see each other for a bit." It was like a blow to her stomach. She could see the sense in what he said, but how would she manage without his attention, his touches, his making her feel wanted, needed? It would be purgatory to see him each day but be unable to have any sweet moments together. And why had they only ever met in his office? He never took her to his home, never wanted to be near her in public, he never wanted her to stay and chat after he had finished wiping his semen from her chin. I mean, were we friends, or not? Belinda began to hear some adverse comments from Veronica about the man who had been educating her in pleasures of the flesh. The knight-in-shining-armor was sounding a little tarnished. "All he seems to want is sex! I mean, he's so intelligent, so smart, I want to talk about stuff with him! I thought he was my friend, but now I can't even see him! Not even for sex!" Veronica was a soul in torment. "He sounds sexy," said Belinda, "But he also sounds like a bastard." "That's it!" replied Veronica. "That describes him exactly! He's a sexy bastard!" "I've heard of men like that," said Belinda, trying to sound knowledgeable. "The attractive ones are the dangerous ones." "But you still won't tell me who he is," she continued. "I mean, as a friend, how can I give you advice unless I know all the facts?" "But it is SOOOO scary, the person, I mean. It's not just any boy. If it ever gets out who I've been seeing, this town will just about explode!" This was confirming what Belinda already suspected. She took a shot in the dark. "Is it... Mr. Wynton?" "Omigosh! How did you know?" "Just intuition. You didn't think you could stop your closest buddy from figuring out a thing like that, did you?" "Well, you can't breathe a word, okay?" "Okay." After Veronica left to go home, Belinda reached behind the scatter cushions on her bed and brought out the little Sony dictaphone recorder that she had earlier hidden there. Rewinding, she checked if it had come out on the tape. Sure enough, she could hear Veronica clearly saying "how did you know?" in response to her question. Belinda didn't yet know what she would do with the tape, but it might come in handy for something. She did not approve of teachers who hit on their students. Mr. Wynton was missing the heady rush of power that he got when Veronica was on her knees before him. And it looked like the hue and cry had died down. After grading her workbook one day, he slipped in a little note. "Meet me at the corner of 10th and Juniper, I'll pick you up at 4:30." He wanted to see her! And he was going to take her away, to a better spot, to his home maybe! He still wanted to spend time with her! She was leaning on the fence by the sidewalk when his car pulled up. She hopped in and was about to kiss him on the cheek. "Don't!" he stopped her. "We mustn't be seen!" She felt a little hurt that he still wouldn't take the kind of chances she was willingly taking for him. But she was also excited to be with him again. She put her hand on his crotch and gave his prick a squeeze. "No one can see me do that!" she told him gleefully. A couple of lamp-posts back, Renn Komett tailed them. He had been keeping an eye on Mr. Wynton lately, knowing the legal man was up to something but unable to prove it. Now he had seen her get into Wynton's car! He tried to keep up, but tailing cars is not as easy as it looks in the movies, and he lost them at the next set of traffic lights. Damn! He still didn't have any really hard evidence of impropriety. Wynton stopped at some parkland outside town, under a thicket of trees. It had been hard to navigate the car properly, because of her toying away at his penis all the while, plus between gear shifts he had kept one hand between her legs on the seat beside him to grope at her sex. Now they were both hot. Their mouths and hands were all over each other in a flurry. Her skirt was up, her knickers down. He was pawing at her crotch, feeling it get hotter and wetter, softening, opening. His cock was in her hand, throbbing and twitching as she pulled on it. It was close to shooting after almost twenty minutes of fondling. She marveled at his size, his hardness. She felt her own sense of power, that a young kid like her could get him so out-of-control. She wanted him! All of him this time! She twisted around and got up over him, aggressively pushing him back, reaching down and hitting the "recline" button of the driver's seat so that he was almost prone. She straddled him, head bumping the low car ceiling, still grasping his cock, bringing it to her entrance, rubbing the big purple helmet against her slippery virgin slit. He could see what she was trying to do, but he still didn't want to penetrate her. He wanted to be able to say truthfully that he hadn't been fucking her. It became a contest, she trying to force her hips downward to impale herself upon him, he holding her up so that his prick was rubbing her folds but not able to slip in between them. "Fuck me" she begged. "Please fuck me!" "No, we mustn't." "But I want to do this!" she almost sobbed. Too late!The friction of her pussy on his cockhead and the thrill of hearing her begging for him to defile her pushed him over the edge. Big spurts of semen shot up over her spread-out cunt, dribbling over her tender lips and silky inner thighs, falling down onto his trousers, making a mess on them both. She felt the hot stuff contact her open pussy and was suddenly disappointed and afraid. Disappointed that it was over, that she still had not had all of him. Suddenly afraid that the sperm coating her pussy might make her pregnant. As always, he thoughtfully brought out tissues to clean her up, then they drove back into town in silence. He dropped her off at her bus route and drove off into the gathering darkness. Next day brought a visit from Komett. He was blunt and to the point. "Mr. Wynton, are you having some kind of a relationship with Veronica Drew-Bentley?" "No, sir. I have been giving her some extra tuition." "That's all?" "That's all." Well, Komett had to be happy with that. It is a big deal to question the integrity of a faculty member. Without proof, he would not be able to push it any further than that. Wynton knew it too and felt safe for the moment. He was familiar with the workings of political scandal and knew that most citizens go into denial when prominent pillars of society get their pricks caught in a jam. Either that, or they blame the woman concerned and make out it is all her fault. He was sure he could ride out any storm on this one. But he had to tell Veronica that it was over. For a while, anyway. Things were getting too hot for comfort. She was distraught. He had picked her up in his car again, and they were driving around aimlessly as he kept his eyes on the road and explained to her in a quiet voice that they had to break it off for a while. She was still sniffling when he finally let her off at her stop. Nothing he could say would satisfy her because the only thing that could satisfy her was his continued friendship and attention. She headed straight to Belinda for consolation. Belinda was shocked at the emotional state her friend was in. And mad as hell at the man who could do that to her. But why only get mad? Why not also get even? A week later, Komett again appeared at Wynton's office. "Mr. Wynton, I must ask you a more direct question this time. Did you at any time have sex with your student, Veronica Drew-Bentley?" "Absolutely not." "It is just that, well... we have received information that you did. Not once, but more than once." "I did not have sex with that student." "Someone has provided us with evidence." "Who?" "Belinda Fripp." "Any statement from Belinda Fripp can only be hearsay." "It is not a statement that she has given us. It is a tape." "A what?" "An audio cassette recording. Of a conversation she had with Veronica Drew-Bentley." "I say again: I did not have sex with that student." "We are of course going to be asking Veronica for her own version of events. And she has a reputation for being a very truthful person..." The heat was now well and truly directed upon the seat of Wynton's pants. And Komett was steadily turning up the flame. They can't fire him. No way can they fire him over this! He would just brazen it out. Maybe if he talked to Veronica, coached her a bit on her story. And what if she insisted on telling the truth? Well, he could make out that she was mentally a bit unhinged. Emotionally-distraught women do not make good witnesses, as a general rule. Or should he come clean? Confess to what had happened as far as it went, but insist that technically he had done nothing that he could be fired over? A legalistic response based upon "what is sex" would not earn him the undying respect of his colleagues or spouse, but at least he might keep his job. And he really needed this job. Interesting times lay ahead for Mr. Wynton. EPILOGUE: Well, what happened? How did it all turn out? I can spare you all the tedious procedural details by giving you a short summary, a bit like the ending of that famous movie "All the President's Men" where about five years of legal maneuverings got crammed into the space of three minutes running time. Except that this story's epilogue reads more like the one in that other famous movie, "Animal House". First of all, Wynton got to keep his job. Veronica told the truth to the school committee, and they were as surprised as anyone to learn that, technically, blowjobs are not sex. But was it worth it? His marriage now existed in name only. And he soon found that he was no longer effective as a teacher. The sound of snickering always preceded him down the corridors. The more delinquent among his students would completely ignore assignment deadlines, and if brought to task would jokingly ask if a blowjob would be sufficient. He couldn't stand it. He decided to stay only for the length of his current contract, after which he was going to sneak away with his tail between his legs. Veronica is still receiving counseling after a failed suicide attempt. Needless to say, she and Belinda are no longer friends. Belinda was a big help to Renn Komett during his efforts to pursue Wynton with a vengeance. Being both of a devious nature, they became close. Nothing could go on in the student body without her informing him about it. One day, she took the initiative and kissed him. They have been on-again-off-again lovers ever since. Which proves the truth of the saying: Character is defined by the things you do when you think no one else is watching.

Part 2

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/16104.txt

DG

Banana Split

"DG? Deej, honey? Are you awake?" I slowly opened my eyes. Cindy was crouched over me, her face framed by the waving fronds of a palm tree, the glossy sheaf of her hair brushing softly against my cheek. There are much, much worse sights to wake up to. I was napping, or had been napping, on the warm sands of a remote tropical island. Cindy and I were stranded in paradise, you see. "What is it, babe? Headhunters? A tiger?" "I want a coconut." "So have a coconut." "I can't find a nice one on the ground. Can you climb up and get me one?" I sat up with a sigh, and found myself facing a stretch of ocean so blue it should smell like chlorine instead of brine. It wasn't easy working up any sort of indignation in this setting, but I gave it a shot, just for form's sake. "You want me to risk my neck climbing up into a palm tree like a giant monkey, when there's fruit all around us? You can't walk ten feet without tripping over a kumquat. You could swing a dead cat anywhere on the island and knock down a week's supply of bananas." She wrinkled her nose in that adorable way that she has. "But I'm thirsty. I've got this wild craving for coconut milk. Come on, you did it yesterday." This was true. Like a big show-off, I had demonstrated the proper technique for clambering up into the dizzying heights of a coconut palm. My fellow castaways - writers, pleasure seekers, and various hangers-on associated with the esteemed Guild of Internet Erotica Writers - had been duly impressed. They had enjoyed the coconuts I cut down, anyway. I stood up and stretched, casually surveying the picturesque little inlet we had discovered. Sheltered from the steady pounding of the big Pacific rollers by a crusty wall of coral, shaded from the strong tropical sun by overhanging palm trees and mangroves, it was a quiet little slice of heaven. We had taken off on our own after lunch to do a little exploring, just wandering aimlessly, and had chosen this secluded spot for a swim, and that had segued quite naturally into a siesta. Now it was late afternoon, and I realized I was hungry. I said "All right, I could use a snack too. You go pick us some of the easy stuff, and I'll go after that most dangerous of all prey, the coconut in its lair." "You won't regret it," she said with a smile, bumping her warm hip against mine. "I'll make sure of that." Cindy was wearing my white cotton undershirt, and nothing else. I was wearing silk boxer shorts and a dress shirt with the sleeves ripped off. One problem with being a castaway is that you don't get to select the outfit you're going to wear. When the whole ruckus had started, we had been enjoying a formal dinner on board our cruise ship. Cindy had dressed up in a tight little black sheath that was totally impractical for rowing a lifeboat, or for any activity more vigorous than lifting a fork to her mouth. I had been wearing a beautifully-cut gabardine wool suit that made me feel like James Bond. I could cry to look at it now - you don't want to know what sea water does to gabardine. Anyway, Cindy has a talent for making any outfit look terrific, and my undershirt was no exception. I was particularly fond of the way her perky nipples poked against the soft, sheer fabric. The fact that it just barely covered her ass was nice too. I watched her fondly as she strolled off into the jungly undergrowth, admiring the way her slim, tan legs and dark hair contrasted with the white cotton. Cindy was one delectable female, unless you happen to prefer the full-figured type. I grabbed a short length of rope with a loop on each end and found a palm tree that looked promising. The trick, which I picked up from the Nature channel, is to put your wrists through the loops with the rope around the tree, as if you'd been arrested by the beach patrol. Then you can easily hold yourself in position by putting your bare feet against the trunk and leaning back against the rope. You climb the tree by sliding the rope up the trunk in quick little twists as you take small steps. Just don't look down, and don't do it on a windy day. I made it to the top of the tree and managed to hack off several ripe coconuts with the knife conveniently supplied in our lifeboat. Then I took a moment to enjoy the view and get my bearings. Shading my eyes against the glare, I spotted the larger cove where we had made our landfall and set up camp, a few miles away. Here and there along the ribbon of white beach were little groups of people chatting and relaxing, playing in the surf, and generally enjoying themselves. The Guild's annual Spring Workshop is really just an excuse for a bunch of hedonistic friends to get together and party, and we're not about to let a little thing like being stranded on on a tiny island interfere with our fun. As my buddy Bear put it, people pay through the nose for adventure travel these days, and we're getting to experience the real thing for free. Officially we're still lost and awaiting rescue, but I don't think anyone is in a big rush to be found. No ragged "HELP" signs are laid out on the beach with rocks. No towering bonfires are waiting to be lit at the first sight of a ship. I overheard Taria talking furtively on a cell phone yesterday, rescheduling her Lit. 101 class, but I'll bet she hasn't called the coast guard. A plane flew overhead this morning, and from the way people ducked out of sight you would have thought it was a Japanese Zero making a strafing run. As I was preparing to climb back down, I noticed some strange activity in a nearby clearing. What appeared at first glance to be the death struggles of a huge, fleshy insect turned out to be one of my male colleagues engaging in an athletic, sweaty bout of our favorite recreational activity with two of the nymphomaniac cheerleaders Bear had invited along. I made myself more comfortable and tried to pick up a few pointers. My eavesdropping was rudely interrupted when Cindy called up to me. "DG! Come on down, I got us all sorts of stuff. What are you looking at?" "Non-indigenous wildlife," I said as I shimmied back down the tree. "Here's a riddle for you: what has twelve tangled limbs, four bouncing breasts, and lots of school spirit?" "Ah yes, the cheerleaders," she said, raising an eyebrow. "Don't they ever sleep? I have no idea how they manage to keep their grades up." I couldn't tell whether she disapproved or not - Cindy can be hard to read at times. I looked with interest at the piles of freshly-picked fruit laid out on the sand. Ripe bananas, tender kumquats, furry little kiwis, luscious mangoes, and various other juicy delicacies that we haven't quite identified, none of us being a botanist or a chef. "Check out those bad boys," said Cindy, pointing proudly to what looked like bananas fed on Miracle-Gro. "I think they must be plantains," I said, examining the bunch. Each shiny, yellow-green fruit was easily twice the size of an average banana. "Not good eating unless you cook them. I can certainly see how they might catch a young woman's eye, though." "Hah. How about these?" She pointed to some oval green fruit with a dull, waxy skin. "Pussyfruit," I said with a lewd grin. "Exsqueeze me?" "You heard me - pussyfruit. That's what Kim calls them, anyway. Go ahead and cut one open, they're yummy." Cindy took the knife and sliced the end off one. The inside meat was a lovely, dark pink color, with a moist, rubbery texture. The open fissure running down the center of the fruit added to the resemblance. Cindy laughed and scooped out a glistening glob with her finger. "Mmm, it is good. Tastes a little like watermelon." "I always knew you'd like pussyfruit." "OK, wise guy, let's eat." I punched holes in a few of the big hairy coconuts, and we settled down to our high-fructose picnic. Cindy put a coconut to her mouth and tilted her head back for a long drink. Milk dribbled down her chin and throat. "Ahhh," she said finally. "That hits the spot." "Careful of my undershirt," I said around a big mouthful of mango. "I'm thinking of dressing up for the big luau tonight."She giggled fetchingly and then, after delicately licking her fingers clean, she peeled off the t-shirt, folded it neatly, and set it aside. "Much better," I said, suddenly a little hoarse. Despite the fact that we had been skinny dipping together just a few hours ago, the sight of her naked, loose-limbed form sprawled casually on the sand made my chest tighten and brought a familiar straining feeling to my loins. As she daintily stuffed juicy mouthfuls of fruit into her mouth, she gazed knowingly at my shorts. "What are you thinking about, big guy? Those naughty cheerleaders?" "No. Actually, I had this sudden mental picture of your cute little face all flushed and contorted with the joyful confusion of lust as I reamed your tight, hot cunny with one of those plantains." "Is that right?" Cindy's used to me blurting out stuff like that. As a writer, I try to get overripe baloney like that out of my system quickly so it doesn't end up in my work. "Yeah, pretty silly. Sorry." "Hmm," she said noncommittally. I saw her steal a glance at the plantains. "I mean, being so petite and all, you couldn't really handle something that big, it would spread you open like a... like a chicken laying a goose egg." "Shows how much you know. Just because you're not hung like a plantain, don't think I wouldn't enjoy it." I smiled. "Hung like a plantain, I like that. Very colorful." We looked at each other and started to laugh. Then she took a fresh coconut and tipped it up over her head. The stream of coconut milk missed her mouth by a mile, splattering against her throat and dribbling down her chest. "Oops," she said. "Now look what I've done." "Allow me." I eased her back onto her elbows and began to lick the milk off her neck, working my way down along the channel between her firm little breasts. The cloying sweetness of the milk blended nicely with the tang of sea salt and the familiar taste of Cindy's skin. More coconut milk splashed against the side of my face and coated her right breast. Some of it went into my ear. "Damn, this one just doesn't pour straight. Sorry about that." "Let me try." I took the nut and upended it over her torso, liberally coating her breasts and stomach and making sure that plenty dribbled down into the furry little crevice between her thighs. "Jeez, what a sticky, sloppy mess," I said, tossing the coconut aside. "You really know how to flatter a girl." She pulled my head down and held it firmly against her elegant bosom. I licked the milk off her breasts with long slow strokes of my tongue, making sure to occasionally bump against the hard, protruding nubs of her nipples. "How do I taste?" she asked, a little breathlessly. "Delish. Kinda sweet, though. You need a little something." I found a ripe little kiwi fruit and squeezed it over Cindy like I was wringing out a sponge. She shrieked in mock horror as green kiwi juice and pulp spurted everywhere. Then she rubbed it into her skin, giving her nipples an extra little pinch in the process. I took my time lapping up the fruit cocktail, running my tongue all over her smooth tan skin until she was shiny and clean. She spent most of the time giggling and squirming, especially when I ran my tongue tip along the taut bumps of her ribcage, but when I was done I could see in her eyes that her motor was warmed up and idling fast. The most casual of observers would immediately note that the same was true of me. "Your turn," she said. She selected another coconut and carefully poured a thin stream of milk onto the swollen head of my cock. It trickled down my shaft and around my balls, following the path of least resistance all the way down into the crack in my ass. Yes, it tickled. Cindy knelt in front of me and sucked eagerly on my coconut-flavored lollipop, quickly cleaning off the milk. I picked up the nut and poured on a fresh coating, and she sucked and licked and slurped happily as I splashed the sweet, sticky juice onto my cock and balls, getting plenty of it on her face. Finally, she released my happy organ and looked up at me with a wet, sticky smile. "OK, I think I've finally satisfied my craving for coconut." My cock strained up toward her mouth as if of its own accord. My balls twitched impatiently. "That's nice for you, but..." I looked down meaningfully. She got a mischievous look in her eyes. "What you need is some pussy...fruit." She picked up the one she had sliced open earlier, and slid it over my cock. The inside felt cool and slick, with mushy little ridges. Not much like the real thing, but pleasant just the same. "Interesting vacation this is turning out to be," said Cindy. She started moving the fruit up and down on my cock, making a pulpy squelching noise. "I thought I'd be shopping, getting my nails done, and hanging out by the pool, and here I am on a deserted island helping my husband sodomize a helpless piece of fruit." "Well, you make your own fun. A little faster, please?" Cindy picked up the pace, and I leaned my head back and groaned, trying to push myself over the edge. But the fruit was disintegrating on the inside, disgorging a juicy, sloppy mess all over my balls and thighs, and despite my best efforts, I couldn't quite manage to get off. "I'm afraid you've worn this one out," said Cindy, tossing the loose, waxy skin aside. "You were just too much of a man for that poor -" "Enough! I need it bad, woman - can't you see that? Do something!" "Don't you want to see me fuck a huge banana first?" she asked sweetly. I swallowed hard. "When you put it that way..." I grabbed the bunch of plantains and broke off a relatively straight one. I hate to belabor the point, but it was much bigger than what Cindy was used to. As far as I know, anyway. She eyed it a little uncertainly. "I think I need to warm up on something a little more manageable." "Like a banana?" She put her hand on my chest and pushed me back. "Don't be silly." She lifted a leg over my bent knees to straddle me, and then slid down the slope of my upper thighs until we made contact. A sinuous little wriggle, and she smoothly impaled herself on my sticky coconut palm. Her pussy was a decadently tight embrace of warm velvet, and I let out a moan and strained up against her. We moved together in our familiar coupling rhythm for a delicious few seconds and then she cruelly stood up, leaving me high and dry. "That ought to do it, thanks hon." "All right, bitch," I growled. "I'm gonna give you a fruit-fucking you'll never forget." With the menacing uberbanana gripped in my fist, I guided her onto her back and spread her thighs. "Be gentle," she squeaked. I was, in fact, quite gentle as I pressed the head of the waxy, yellow-green plantain against her moist pink slot. She twisted and shifted a little, making fine adjustments, then said "take me." I pressed a little harder, and the phallic fruit slid smoothly into her muscular confines. "God," she said. And then, a little louder, "Oh God!" "Meaning?" "Meaning keep going." The huge organic dildo slid in a few more inches, spreading apart her moist pink folds in a fascinatingly obscene way. I slid it back out, and then slowly worked it back in even farther, as she continued to loosen up and adjust. "Oh Gaawwd!" she moaned. "So is this like a religious experience, then?" "Shut up and fuck me." I obediently shoved the plantain in and out of her pussy, and a pleasantly hydraulic sucking sound began to accompany her guttural grunts of pleasure. A few times her eyes shut tight and her body stiffened, but I couldn't tell if she was really coming or not. After a few minutes of groaning, heavy breathing, and terse instructions ("faster," "slower," and "stop twisting, dammit!" are the ones I remember) she finally pushed my hand away and let the plantain squirt out onto the sand. "Had enough?" I asked. She shook her head. "It's driving me crazy, DG. It feels good, but I can't get all the way off. I need to come. I mean, I really need to come." I could have said "Join the club," but I went with "What's your pleasure?" instead, figuring she would want to be mounted and I could finally release the pent-up tension in my balls. "Eat me." She spread her legs in lewd invitation. "Please." I selected a ripe banana and began to peel it, trying to appear casual. "Let me just grab a bite first." "Dee-Gee!" "OK, OK, just a second. I've got an idea." I took the peeled banana and pressed it against her crotch. "You're not going to satisfy me with that," she protested. "Hey, that tickles!" I finished pushing soft banana up inside her pussy. "How does that feel?" "Sticky and mushy and not very satisfying." "Maybe if I ate the banana now?" Her face lit up with anticipation. "Now you're talking. Chow down on my banana split, big guy." "I thought banana split is what happened to you before," I said with a grin. She wasn't much in the mood for wordplay, though, so I sprawled forward and went to work. I licked up all the little chunks of banana that I could reach with my tongue, and then I took mercy on her and moved up to her sensitive, swollen clit. "Oh yes..." she whimpered, as I swirled around it. "Right there, sweetie." She came with a shuddering groan, and I was rewarded with a mouthful of warm banana mush as her pussy clenched and spasmed. For some reason, I was reminded of the experiments where the pigeons learn to peck on a lever to get a food pellet. I slurped up the banana and then went back to her clit. Sure enough, the same thing happened again, this time accompanied by a full-throated cry of pleasure.After a record-tying fifth orgasm, the banana was completely gone and so was Cindy. She lay in a limp puddle on the soft sand with her eyes half-closed, staring at me with a look of utter bovine satisfaction on her face. "That was great, hon. Gonna take...little nappie." "What! What about me?" She grunted, and one shoulder twitched in what I could only assume was a shrug. "Just...do whatever you want. So....sleepy." Wonderful. I rolled her onto her side and spooned myself in behind her. My aching erection quickly buried itself in her wet, sticky pussy, and I wriggled into a position where I could drive myself into her tight cunt with short little thrusts. After thirty seconds or so, Cindy started to come out of her coma and push back against me, grinding her cute little ass into my groin. Almost immediately, I felt the delicious burning rush move up my shaft and then the beach seemed to spin around us in slow circles as I pumped about three gallons of semen up inside her. After a short breather, Cindy arched her long neck around and gave me a kiss. "We better go for a swim before the juice dries and we get permanently stuck like this," she said. "People would talk, even here." So we helped each other to our feet and walked hand in hand into the clear, refreshing water of our own private corner of paradise.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/10386.txt

Vickie Tern

RP Queer Halloween by Vickie Tern

"Why don't you invite one of your best clients, too?" I suggested. "Someone who'd really enjoy an all-out bash like this one. Someone who likes parties where people dress up like what they're not, but someone who can remain a gentleman even when there are available women everywhere. No real competition for our own unattached staff." "I hear you, Anne," he said. "Great! I know just the one! Our biggest client! He lives in town and he'll be delighted!" So it was all set. Then I told Jerry that we'd been invited to a Halloween Costume Party at my Boss's House. A lot of the office staff and their friends would be there. People I knew and people I didn't. Maybe no one he knew, maybe only a few. He nodded, not really concerned. I told him the rules for the grand prize this year, and asked him, "Any ideas?" "How about I go as a girl again. You can go as a guy, so we'll be a couple." "No," I said. "This time you'd have to be a lot more persuasive. It would take you too long to learn how a real woman acts and feels. After seeing last year's performance I doubt you're capable of it. This year you've got to act the part, convince people you're really what you seem to be. Not so incidentally, if we don't go as a couple you'll have a terrific advantage at this party, because no one knows the real you. You can seem to be anybody or anything if you do it right, and they'll believe you're the real thing. And I've got just the part for you to play, something you seem to think you aren't at all, though I've got my doubts." "What's that?" "Look here. If you can persuade the judges that you are in fact what you seem to be, that you're not even in costume, you'll win! You won't like it, but I want you to do this for me. Then maybe I can be persuaded that you do care enough about me to do things I want you to, whether you want to or not. That could have an effect on the way I feel about you in bed. No promises, mind you." "What are you proposing, Anne?" "I want you to go this time as a man." He stared at me. "What are you talking about? Are you kidding? What's the costume? And how is that something I think I'm not?" "That's the edge I have in mind. Other people will dress up in costumes. But this year our costumes aren't going to be just cloth or makeup. They'll be under our skins, in the way we act, how we behave. We'll dress appropriately of course, but mainly we'll create the illusion with our voices, our mannerisms, the ways we move and relate to other people. You maintain your role perfectly through the whole evening and maybe we can talk again about what you are with me in bed, and what you aren't. Maybe I'll forgive you for that night when you didn't think I was sexy enough, or sexy the right way, or maybe the right sex." "So what'll I go as?" "A man." "You've said that. I can do that." "A gay man." "A what!!?" "You heard me! A gay man, Jerry! A homo! A faggot! A fairy! A pansy! A queer! A feygel! You know any other names, name them!" I'd let out some of my real suppressed anger, so I stopped short, and took some deep breaths, and then continued more calmly. "You usually behave the way most gay men behave, normal. So that won't do. You'd never be recognized if you acted normal. So you'll have to pretend. For people to catch on you'll have to exaggerate some traits, behave like a full-blown stereotype queer. But nothing excessive. No camping. No burlesquing. No signalling 'I am but I'm not.' This time there'll be none of that admiration you got because you had the guts to dress like a girl but were too gutless or unimaginative to act like one. This time you'll need to look and act just like what people think is the real thing, persuasively." I looked at him meaningfully. "I suspect you have a talent for it, as you know." He ignored the innuendo. "And you? What will you go as?" I smiled and weaved my hips at him a little. "Oh, you'll like what I'll be. You're always trying to get me to go out dressed like one, and to behave like one. So for once I will." "What's that?" "A really promiscuous slut. A whore who enjoys sex so much she doesn't charge. I know I haven't been anything like that in the past. I love sex, but I've never yet once cheated on you, Jerry. I think you know that. That's why your...inability when I was hot for you affected me so deeply. If I can play my role the way you play your role, then maybe when we get back here I'll be able to reconsider what you really are." Jerry began thinking. "It would look funny if we arrived at this party together, a gay man married to a whore." "That's not so strange a pair. Gays and whores can be on the lookout for partners for each other. But we won't be married at all as far as anyone knows. We'll be brother and sister. People at my office know I'm married to someone, that I'm a responsible executive, not a tramp, so they'll see my costume in the way I behave. But no one there knows you at all. They'll have no reason to think you aren't really my gay brother, the genuine article, until the time comes for the judges to do their judging." "What would I wear?" "I've thought about that. Not much that's different. A tight T-shirt, or muscle shirt, maybe a loose satin shirt. Really tight jeans, skin tight, so your buns show -- we may need to pad them. Maybe made of velvet, so you can stroke yourself and people will understand why. It's your behavior that'll give you away, mainly. Most people don't know that gays come in all styles -- leather, three-piece suit, tough hood, dresses, cops, the whole range. So you'll have to behave stereotype femme for your disguise to be identified." "I'll get you a haircut with little bangs, maybe. You'll swish a little while walking, not a lot. You'll talk with a slight lilt, maybe move a little floppy wristed, not a lot. In fact I think maybe we'll have you talk like a girl. Most gays don't, but you'd be more persuasive that way. Let's see -- a single ear ring. You won't need to get an ear pierced, there are spring-loaded kinds you can't tell from the real thing from the front. But that's up to you. If you do get one ear pierced, I'd recommend you get them both pierced. I hear a gay man with a steady boy friend changes which ear has the ear ring, so other men won't hit on him all the time. Like wearing a wedding ring." "Oh, yes. We won't dance with each other at all. I'll dance with other men, and so will you. You'll have to sense which ones are most likely willing, and which most likely to turn you down. Check 'em out, the way gay men do. Tune in. Gays can tell a lot about each other with very few words. If any man asks you to dance, you'll look him up and down and then of course you'll accept. Charmingly. You can walk tight-assed or you can swagger, which ever you choose. Last year when you were a girl you should have been modest and tight-assed, but instead you swaggered. This year you can do it either way." Jerry thought about it. "You've been thinking I'm a queer, because I couldn't get it up for you that one night. Now if I can prove to everyone that's what I am, you'll be persuaded I'm not? Is that what you're saying? What sense does that make?" "I'll know that whatever you pretend, it isn't what I know you are, because I'll see the difference. And I'll know that you did it because I wanted you to do it. And that you're trying hard to do it right. For me." He thought a moment, still a bit confused. "OK. That's not too hard. I can do it, for one night. It'll be worth it just to see you loosen up for once, see you try to act like a loose woman. I don't think you've got any more talent for it than I've got." I smiled. "Maybe not. We'll see." Well, Carol, finally, here comes our lunch. A bottle of Pouilly Fuisse too? That seem about right? We can sip it while we eat, and afterwards too. There's lots more to tell.Then he had to find his keys in his pocket as if he were searching through a purse, and I made him slide the key into the lock with flair, like a ballet movement, or a sexual act performed with one arm. At first, I made him try to sound like Truman Capote, but we settled for his sounding just a little bitchy. It started out as a game for him, to please me, something to master like a golf stroke or skiing moguls. Obviously, he didn't feel touched deep inside, not obviously. But he soon began to wear the mannerisms casually, the way he'd worn his chorus girl outfit last year, un-self-consciously, almost unawares, and that only made him seem more naturally faggoty, more the way people expect gays to behave. As he did it better, he really got into it. The weekend before the big event, old Mrs. Warren from down the street saw him mincing across the front yard to dig in some bulbs for me, and she jokingly asked him if he'd dig in hers too. Without even thinking, he pushed the air toward her with one hand and then gracefully withdrew it, and said "Silly! What a naughty thing to say!" with a smile and a lisp of all things, as if she'd made an immoral suggestion. Mrs. Warren stared at him a moment and continued on her way without another word. I handed him some more bulbs and pointed to where I wanted them without another word too. He didn't even know what he'd done! It became the way he behaved everywhere except at the office. I took him shopping one day at a store that catered to certain...umm...flamboyant male tastes, to buy himself some velvet pants while I loitered outside and enjoyed watching him. The salesman happened to be altogether floppy wristed, a real parody gay man, and waved his arms and bobbed his neck dramatically like some drag queen caricature. They struck it off right away. The salesman leaned in on Jerry to tug his the pants up, to be sure his ass cheeks would be seen in them to advantage, and he kept patting Jerry's rear, until finally, I saw Jerry wag a finger at him. When Jerry emerged with his package, I asked what he had said to cool the salesman down. "I told him I was taken." "Well, we'll see to it that you're not too taken when you're at the party. The more your partners paw you, the more convincing your act will seem. It *is* still an act, isn't it?" He just smiled understandingly at me, but the truth was, I was doing everything I could think of to make him unsure. The most fun came in bed. Sex between us stopped altogether, of course, because I didn't want to trigger any masculine feelings if I could help it. Yet I had to keep him drained, so he wouldn't pick up a little loose nookie at the office and undo what I was doing to him at home. So I went to Victoria's Secret and bought the sexiest lingerie I could find, crotchless panties, a demi-pushup bra I spilled out of as soon as I was in it and a black lace teddy that hid nothing underneath. I decided these would be my slut wear under the little bolero Jerry had worn last year, and I was pleased to see that the bolero played peek-a-boo with the dark shadows of my nipples when I tried it all on. Garter belt and net stockings, naturally. Then I made up the way Jerry had been made up last year, eyes slathered in black. I lay back on pillows and with one knee raised, I invited Jerry to approach me when he entered the bedroom. He was already breathing hard and was about to leap me when I flung back a fold in my robe and exposed an enormous black dildo rising high out of my crotch! "Here, faggoty-boy, this is for you," I said. "You remember how I used to do you? Do me! And be persuasive!" He was shocked, so repelled and resentful he almost refused. But I glowered at him with all the sexual power I could muster. "Make love to my prick, Jerry! Suck my cock, my fairy queen! Now!" And slowly, he lowered himself to his knees, and he did it! Twice I had to tell him to put his heart and soul into it, and I kept him at it for over an hour, until his head and lips seemed to belong there, and my cock in his mouth felt as natural to him as his own tongue. Then for a finale, I had him whack off, squirting all over the dildo, and then lick his cum off it. "Why all this?" he asked, a little annoyed, as he bent over to scoop up a pearly puddle at the base of the dildo with his lips and tongue. "What has this to do with playing the homo at a party?" "Why, Jerry," I answered, trying to restrain my glee as his tongue chased his own cum around the dildo's shaft, licking it provocatively in the process. "Don't you know what gay men like to do? Every moment you're talking with some man, or dancing with one, and you'd better, I'll want you to be imagining how his cock would feel in your mouth, how his cum would taste. You see, honey, you're going to have to try to seduce your partners, if you can find any, and you can't fake a desire to be really intimate with someone, or you won't be convincing to anyone who's watching. You'll have to seem to mean it! To want to hold a cock in your mouth as the height of bliss! Now kiss mine with real affection, and jerk off again while you're doing it so it feels good to you whenever you kiss me there. But be sure the cum lands where it should. Then lick it off me again, and I'll let you get to sleep." In the morning, he had to produce cum for licking twice more, and that next night the same again. A few days before the party, he could barely cum even once, and I was quite sure he wasn't rediscovering masculine drives with any of the secretaries at work. Each evening I reclined back on the bed with my knees parted, and he flounced to the floor, sucked away on my cock, finally managed to cum all over it and me, licked it all off, and went to sleep. It got to be a bedtime routine like brushing his teeth -- except that he brushed beforehand, of course, because I wanted him sleeping every night with the flavor of cum in his mouth. The Thursday before Halloween Saturday Night, I took Jerry to my Beauty Salon, got them to put tight waves into his hair like a marcel, and then to pierce both his ears, both of them before he had any idea what was happening. I wanted him to wear little gold hoops in both ears, I told him, until we found out which meant he was cruising and which that he was taken. Then he could take out one, depending. He wasn't happy. In fact, he was a little angry. "How the hell am I supposed to go to the office tomorrow looking like this?" he asked. So I sounded even angrier, as if my patience was exhausted. "Jerry, the same way you always do, only this time, looking the way you're supposed to look Saturday night." I stopped him as we were leaving the salon, and I stared him down. "And you better get into character now, and stay in character all day tomorrow, pansy man, and you'd better not tell anybody at your office what all this is about! I want them to think you're their resident closet queer suddenly blossomed out into daylight. I want you to get used to different people's reactions. If they make cracks, or insults, no macho bullshit in return! You can be bitchy if you want, or you can name call. You can even be aggressively affectionate -- try to put your hands on them and call them 'dear' if they get too close, and they'll back off soon enough. Or you can cry and run away." "Most people will treat you decently enough, at least to your face. You might try flirting with some of them for practice. Next Monday, I don't care what you tell them. But tomorrow you are a flaming queer and you'll dress the part -- tight pants, pointy suede shoes and everything. Maybe a little mascara and pink lipstick also, to underline the point!" I knew he'd have a hard day, and he did. That afternoon he flounced back into the house frowning deeply and muttering to himself, and at first, I wasn't going to ask him why. I assumed that the girls in the office had figured him for a freak, and his male ego had cracked under the strain. Or that Ralph, his boss, had come by and had seen Jerry waving his ass at someone. Well, good! But that night when I was in my whore's regalia as usual and he was kneeling down to suck my cock as usual, he suddenly volunteered what had happened. "Bastards!" he said. "Out-of-town salesmen, they don't know me! Three of them figure I'm fair game, grab me when I'm in the third floor men's room, nowhere near our office, and they haul me into a booth, and then they take turns holding me down while I blow them, one after the other. They stank of piss, those goddam cocks. And their cum was so slimy I could barely get it down without gagging." Perfect! "But you did get it down," I said to console him, not knowing whether to laugh or feel pity. "That's a good boy. What did their cocks feel like in your mouth?" "Rubber," he said. "Like this one of yours, but silky smooth. Much warmer. I don't want to think about it! Wait 'till Monday! If I see them again, their asses are mine!" "Maybe," I said, thinking that if all went well, by Monday his ass as well as theirs would be up for grabs. I noticed that he was intensely absorbed, and there were tears in his eyes. Because he still felt furious? Helpless? Anything else? You sure you have nothing else planned for this afternoon, Carol? Well, maybe we'll look in at that sale in Nordstrom's when we're finished here. I need to pick up a few things for me and Jerry. Remind me if I forget. Anyhow, the big night finally rolled around -- it's hard to remember now that it was just last weekend, so much has changed! There was a nip in the air, and unraked autumn leaves everywhere. Halloween weather!I made myself ravishing the way I did every night, but this time I put on new black high-heeled thigh-high boots to wear instead of stockings, and my crotchless panties of course, and a black leather micro mini that covered my bare pussy lips only when I stood up straight and still. Jerry looked great too. A little touch of mascara again, and his hair oiled back, and a chest-tight knit silk muscle shirt together with his purple velvet pants, and he was fussing around the room without even thinking about it. We'd had his pants tailored even tighter, so his balls bulged in front as well as his buns in back, and he grabbed for them now and then unthinkingly, to relieve the pressure. Just the right touch of suggestiveness. Just before we left the house, I gave his crotch a squirt of perfume. He looked startled, and I said playfully, "Can I help it if my brother is a fag who wears perfume?" That reminded him, and he minced into the car. Then as he was starting to back down the driveway, I said to him, "Just one more thing and you're on your own, brother. When we make our entrance, walk as if someone's cock was already in your ass. If anyone really gay is interested, we'll want them to know that you're available, so the judges can see for themselves that even the real thing thinks you're the real thing." "Anne, just how far do you mean for me to go? Isn't there any limit to this notion of yours?" "Jerry," I said. "You just stay in character, and be what you're supposed to be for this one night, and do it right even if that means you have to go a little further than you'd like. It won't be anything men don't do. Then afterward we'll talk. I suspect that after tonight I'll feel satisfied. We'll see." The mansion was impressive all lit up, as we parked in the space I'd reserved for me. My boss Roger met us at the door, looking splendid in a tuxedo with a wing collar, not much of a costume, but suitable I suppose to his role as a host. "Welcome, Anne," he said. "You've done wonders with the decoration, and the food, and the orchestra, everything. Impressive, and handled with no last-minute flurries!" He looked a little more closely at Jerry and his mouth opened just a bit. "And this is...your husband?" "My brother!" I told Roger, looking him straight in the eye. "This is my brother Jerry. Same name as my husband's, no resemblance otherwise. I'm alone tonight, though I don't expect to stay that way." "Not in that costume," he said. "You look good enough to eat." "I hope so," I replied. "I'm looking forward to it." Roger squared his shoulders and took my arm and led me into the main hallway, leaving Jerry standing on his own at the door. "Not a chance it won't happen," he said. "Not a chance. May I have the first dance?" He did. A half hour after we arrived I was in one of the larger bedrooms off the main downstairs hallway, two huge beds with coverlets already drawn down, wiping his cum out of my pussy as best I could, tucking kleenex into my slit to slow the flow, and kissing him on the nose. "That was marvelous!" I told him. "My husband's been away a long time now. I'd almost forgotten the moves." "Oh no," he said. "You do things my wife couldn't possibly do. That teeny rotating of your twat just about when you started moaning, it drove me wild! And I wish I'd known earlier how wonderful you taste." "Well, you know now," I said. I just couldn't stop smiling! I felt so liberated! It was just delicious, being a bona fide slut! Here in front of me was my first brand new man since my marriage! A whole new world to explore! He had a great tongue, really marvelous, and a short but fat and altogether satisfying prick. I had no complaint about either of my orgasms. "I'd better go see how Jerry's doing," I said. "He doesn't know anyone here." "Don't worry, Anne," Roger said. "I suspect he's well tended. There are a few people here with his... ahh... interests. I notice that you invited your husband's boss, Ralph. He's an old friend, we were in the same eating club at Princeton. I'm glad you asked him, his ex being off with my wife and all, and Ralph with nothing else planned. But he's brought someone who'll certainly want to meet your brother if he hasn't already, a client of his who is as it happens is also a client of ours too. If the two of them hit it off, we can all be happy." He smiled at me, and took me gently by the elbow, and led me back to the bed. "Anne, if you don't mind mounting me this time, I'd love to show your wonderful breasts how profoundly I can worship them while we fuck again. My wife's also been away longer than I'd thought." "That's what I'm here for, Roger," I said. "Sluttish is as sluttish does." His tongue on my nipples felt even better than his cock in my cunt, and that was ecstasy! God, I'd waited a long time for a real man! I smiled as I thought that Jerry'd been one only a few months ago. I wondered if I could think of him that way ever again. If he'd ever be one again. It didn't look that way when I went into the large room we'd turned into a ballroom, orchestra on one side, all sorts of animals and bunnies and horror film characters swaying and bouncing everywhere. The orchestra began a slow dance, and the floor quickly filled. Sure enough, there was my Jerry in a far corner plastered to a tall, muscular man I didn't know. The man wore a studded motorcycle jacket, and Jerry was nearly wrapped inside it. The mutual client, no doubt about it, and they'd found each other as Roger had predicted. As I looked closer I saw the client grinding his pelvis into my Jerry's crotch with each beat, holding Jerry's velvet buns close, one in each huge hand. Jerry was holding his partner around the neck, taking the woman's role I noted with satisfaction, his head on the man's shoulder and turned well away. There seemed to be a desperate gleam in his eye, and as I watched I saw why. The client let go Jerry's rear end for a moment, and as Jerry turned toward him thinking the dance was finally done, he took Jerry's head in both hands, leaned over him, and tenderly but with iron firmness kissed him on the mouth. The kiss lasted a while. Jerry's hands fell helplessly to his sides, dangling there. Then his partner placed them back around his neck and they resumed their clutched movements, grinding against each other. "They're getting on very well, wouldn't you say?" I looked up, and there alongside me was Ralph in a tiger costume of sorts, also looking at the loving couple. "I'm glad you invited me to invite him. His name's Mike, incidentally. I introduced Jerry to him as your brother, as you'd suggested, and they hit it off right away. At least Mike did, and Jerry's obviously under strict instructions to go with the flow, to be what he seems to be. I told him Mike was our best client, so he should be sure Mike gets whatever he wants. How did you turn that compulsive stud into such a compliant queer? What kind of a hold have you got on him?" "The best kind," I replied. "I've got him by the balls! He still wants to stay married to me for some reason, and I'm setting conditions. Enlarging his horizons for him."

2/3

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/16794.txt

Grey Wolf

The Wild Side

"Are you even listening to me?" she asked. "Hmm?" he grunted absently from behind the copy of The Wall Street Journal. Bridget glared at the wall of newsprint that shielded her husband from her across the breakfast table. She drummed her manicured nails on the tablecloth and waited for him to acknowledge her. As usual, that moment never came. "I was SAYING, why don't we go up to the lake this weekend? It would do us good to get away for a while." "You know I can't get away right now," he said, his voice a blend of disinterest and mild annoyance. "The Parkinson deal is closing a week from Monday, and I have to meet with the attorneys all week to finalize the details." He turned the page of the newspaper as he spoke, never once lowering it enough to make eye contact with his wife. Bridget sighed loudly and pursed her lip in her best pout. That maneuver used to be her secret weapon. Men could not resist the "pouty little girl" look. But since Bill couldn't see her, she did it more from a force of habit than anything else. Even when they weren't separated by a newspaper, Bill didn't seem to see Bridget at all anymore. She unconsciously trailed her spoon through the uneaten eggs on her plate as she thought. It infuriated her to be ignored. She had never been able to stand that. Her marriage to Bill had been good in the early years, but for the past few they had become more like roommates than lovers. "So, you are flying off to Tahoe, and just leaving me here alone again?" "Business is business, hon," he answered. "If you're bored, why don't you drive up to the lodge with some of your friends?" "But I wanted to go with YOU," she purred. Her slippered foot slid beneath the table and edged up into the leg hole of Bill's slacks, rubbing his ankle. "Maybe we can go next month," he said, moving his leg back out of her reach, "after things calm down a bit." Bridget fought back tears as her husband rose from the table, downed the last of his coffee, and walked to the door. "Is SHE going to Tahoe?" The words were out before Bridget realized what she had said, and they hung there in the air like smoke. Bill physically stiffened for a moment. His back was toward her, but Bridget knew that his jaw muscles were clenching the way they always did when he was annoyed. "I'll try and give you a call from the hotel tonight," he said brusquely, his eyes still avoiding her as he walked out of the breakfast nook and out to the garage. Bridget sat alone at the table. The huge house was as quiet as a church. The branches of the oak trees swayed in the morning breeze as she looked out the large bay window into the back yard. The crystal clear water of the pool glinted in the bright sunshine, but Bridget felt as if a dark cloud had covered everything. No matter what she tried, Bill had become more and more distant and uninterested in her. 14 years ago, she had been the happiest girl in the world. William Wentworth III, 10 years her senior, had literally swept her off her feet when she was a new assistant with the firm. Romance, adventure, a rich lifestyle.....it had all seemed like a dream to a young girl right out of college. And now, she was more alone than she ever could have imagined. All the money and all the parties in the world could not take the place of the romance and passion that had drained away from their marriage over the years. And now, Bill had taken to going on week-long business trips accompanied by his secretary, Brenda. It would have been one thing if the matter had been handled more discreetly, but Bill's infidelity was common knowledge around the influential Brentwood social scene. Bridget pretended in public not to know about her husband's extracurricular activities, but the shame of the public humiliation was almost too much for her to bear. She had redoubled her efforts to save their marriage when she first began to suspect her husband of cheating. Bridget had even suggested that they go and see a marriage counselor about the problem, but Bill had just grunted and discounted the idea. Instead, he had suggested that she take a class in folk dancing at the community college if she was so bored. Folk Dancing. "Fucking Bastard," Bridget muttered through a mist of tears. "Que?" came a quizzical voice from behind her. Bridget jumped in her seat at the sound, spilling her orange juice. "Shit! Maria, you startled me!" she said, turning to look at the plump little maid that had entered the room. "I am sorry, Mrs. Wentworth," answered the Hispanic woman, "but I didn't think you were still here. Will you be going out today?" "Yes. Marjorie and Beth are meeting me for lunch at The Club to talk over plans for the Arts Festival." Maria glanced up at Bridget as she dabbed up the spilled juice from the white tablecloth. "Are you all right Mrs. Wentworth?" she asked, a look of concern on her warm face. Bridget's deep blue eyes were slightly red from the tears that she had refused to allow to fully flow. She sniffed and looked away from the older woman's stare. "Yes.....I'm fine, just my allergies acting up a bit," she lied. She rose from the table and pulled her silk robe more firmly closed about her body. "Oh, and Mr. Wentworth will be out of town this weekend again, ....... so I'm driving up to the Lake Lodge this evening. Why don't you take the weekend off and go see your grandchildren. There is no need for you to hang around here with us both gone," Bridget said as she walked away toward the hallway. "You are going by yourself, Mrs. Wentworth?" the old woman asked, the motherly look of concern still present on her face. Bridget smiled as she looked back at the dark-skinned woman who had become more like an Aunt than an employee to her. "I'm a big girl, Maria," she said. "I can take very good care of myself. You just go and have a good weekend with the little ones,.... and don't worry about me." Bridget stood on the flagstone deck of the swimming pool, the summer sun drying her tan body even in the early morning light. The water of the pool was clear and bright as it lapped against the sides of the unusual pool. Bill had paid an exorbitant amount of money for the installation, but the effect was dramatic. Natural stone and plants melded around the perimeter of the water, with a cozy whirlpool/jacuzzi built into the end near a huge boulder-strewn waterfall. At night, the image was particularly impressive, with hidden lights above and below the water giving a magical, romantic feeling. They used to play together here quite frequently. "Used to" being the operative words. Bill and Bridget had not been swimming, much less "playing" together in the pool for a long time. In fact, as near as she could remember, it had been over a year since they had even made love together. And even longer since Bridget had achieved an orgasm from their unions. Their lovemaking had never been what one would call "adventurous". Bill had always preferred straightforward, quiet, simple sex, and always in the dark. Bridget would have given anything just to have that little bit of excitement back. The passion and spark were just not there. Bill was more like a robot when it came to sex now, and she was sure that the only reason he tried at all was from some sense of obligation. Which, of course, made it all that much more unenjoyable for Bridget.The few close friends that she had confided in about her dilemma all gave her the same advice: leave him. Bridget knew that she should, but the thought of being alone frightened her. Not from a financial standpoint, but from an emotional one. She needed to be loved, almost as much as she needed to love someone. She often fantasized about being swept away by a hero, like those men in the cheap romance novels. Someone who would bring the vibrance and the passion back into her life. "Where's MY knight in shining armor?" she mused. She turned slightly and caught her reflection in the tinted windows of the house. She studied her profile in the glass, as if it would somehow reveal an answer to her problems. She was tall, about 5'10", with long black hair that curled in soft ringlets when she wore it down and loose. Years of aerobics and tennis had done more than just fill the empty moments of her life; her body was the type achieved by most only through the magic of cosmetic surgery. At 36 years old, Bridget looked closer to 26. Her skin was smooth and her flesh firm, as the tiny black bikini displayed freely. Her breasts were not huge, but they were well formed and didn't droop. As she looked at herself, Bridget arched her leg and pointed her toe to accentuate her favorite feature: her legs. Long and curved, she had always enjoyed the fact that men noticed her legs. She had a closet full to the brim with various styles of pumps and heels to ensure that her legs were displayed to the best advantage whenever she went out. Bridget slid the Raybans down to the tip of her nose, revealing a startlingly beautiful pair of blue eyes. "Well...the package seems to be holding up all right," she muttered, "So maybe I DO need to find a more appreciative customer." She glanced at the sun as it rose in the late morning sky. "Gotta hurry if I'm gonna make it in time for the 'hen scratching'." That was the term the close-knit group of women at the Brentwood Country Club used to describe their meetings. Most of them considered themselves "business widows", whose husbands were so preoccupied with making money that they paid little attention to their wives' activities. Their outings were harmless enough. Shopping and shows, mostly. Occasionally, they would flirt with strangers in the private bar at Brentwood, but it never went farther than that. Today was Friday, and Bridget was going to be late for the usual lunch meeting at The Club if she didn't hurry. Walking to the French doors off the pool deck area, Bridget opened them and stepped into the master bedroom of the palatial home. The room was dark and cool in contrast to the bright warmth of the patio. Thick white carpet cushioned her feet as she walked noiselessly to the walk-in closet beside the bed. "Hmmm...What to wear?" she thought to herself. She leafed through the racks of outfits lining the walls of the closet. She would probably be leaving for the lodge right after lunch, so she should probably just dress in slacks and a blouse, with some comfortable shoes. But she didn't feel like being practical today. She pulled out a long slinky black strapless dress, with a long slit up the side. Then hesitated and put it back. "That's a little TOO much," she giggled aloud. "Ahhh...that's it." Bridget selected a light summery dress with a subdued floral pattern. The collar was high and wrapped around her neck with an opening that framed the hollow at the base of her throat and the upper swell of her breasts. The waistline was perfect for showing off her hourglass figure, with the hem of the dress reaching about to her knees. Just enough to showcase her legs with the addition of the pair of white leather pumps that she pulled from the shelf as she left the closet. Tossing the dress and shoes on top of the bed, Bridget padded over to the dark oak dresser. She slid the top drawer open and studied the lingerie before her, absently chewing her lower lip as she made her selection. "What difference does it make what underwear I pick?" she thought to herself. "Nobody is going to see it anyway." She reached for a pair of cotton briefs and a standard white bra, but her slender hand hesitated in mid-motion. "No," she whispered aloud, "my Knight will find me someday. And it wouldn't do at all for me to greet Him wearing Grandma Undies." She smiled to herself as she ran her hands over the delicate black satin and lace bra and thong set that lay in one corner of the large drawer. Any man she met at The Club during lunch would be off-limits. Even if she gathered the courage to act on her passionate urges, she would not be as crass as Bill had been. Once at the Lake Lodge, she probably wouldn't see another soul, so the odds of her finding her "hero" were virtually null. Still, even the thought of a possible romantic, sensual encounter was enough to warm her in places that had long been neglected. She removed the flimsy items, pushed the drawer half closed, and then opened it again. Reaching to the back of the drawer, Bridget probed until she found the garter belt and a pair of sheer stockings. "Might as well go for broke," she giggled.

Chapter 1 and Chapter 2

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11419.txt

deirdre

Run

"What are *you* doing here?" Yes, she was surprised to find me at her doorstep. "Joanie, my sister. I just had to get away." "Well, Mom and Dad are going to *kill* you," she answered, still just standing in the doorway to her apartment, looking at me. "Listen... listen, can I come in?" She stood aside and let me in, then turned around, closing the door, and looked at me. I stood nervously in the middle of her living room. "You don't have to tell them," I added. Yes, they'd definitely be mad knowing I'd skipped out while classes were in session. "Please? I *had* to get away!" She gave a little half laugh and walked away from the door toward the kitchen. She was amused. I knew she wouldn't tell Mom and Dad. I just *knew* it: she'd been through college and probably knew very well how it could get you down. I followed her into the kitchen and sat down. "Need something to drink?" she asked, pulling a carton of milk out of the fridge. I let out my breath when she said that: now I was certain she wouldn't tell. I'd go back--I wasn't dropping out or anything--I just needed a break. I drank some milk. "What *is* it?" she asked. "Nothing! You know, I just had to get away." She didn't respond right away. She was looking at me. Once again I felt nervous: Joanie did that when she was up to something. She wouldn't tell, would she? "You know," she started, "having you here isn't so great: I've got a date tonight." "Oh, don't worry about me," I volunteered. I wondered why she worried about *that*. "Well, it's not so easy having you here." She must have been thinking of bringing the guy here. I could see her point and started trying to think of some solution. I could make myself scarce for a while. Was she planning on having him overnight? She probably had no specific plans, but wasn't likely to be happy having the decision determined beforehand by her brother's presence. "How late do you want me to stay out?" I could make my offer. She didn't answer, but stood up and left. I followed her, done with my milk. She turned around and looked at me again. She makes me so nervous. "You're going to do me a favor," she finally said. I detected a hint of a grin on her face. "What?" "Come here," she added, not enlightening me at all, but leading me into the bedroom. She was in her closet and had a dress in her hand. She held it up in front of me, hanger and all, looking at it. I was confused. "Put it on," she said. "Joanie!" I said. No, I wasn't as alarmed as you might think: in fact, I'd worn Joanie's clothes before: when she was pinning dresses and skirts. Much to my chagrin, she'd discovered I was close to her size when we'd been in high school. I didn't particularly want to go through that again, but she was always both grateful about it and never did anything to embarrass me. "Come on," she said, cajolingly. She smiled. There was no escape: she was letting me stay without telling Mom and Dad. Well, I didn't really have much to do anyway. I started unbuttoning my shirt. "Thanks," she said as she left the room, sounding sincerely grateful. I peeked out of the bedroom in my stocking feet and the dress. I'd have heard if anyone else had come in the apartment, since the bedroom door was open, so I headed for the kitchen where I heard Joanie doing something. She looked up at me and smiled. And she looked me up and down. I didn't feel right about something: she didn't seem to be getting ready for any sewing work. "Looks good," she said, still smiling. I almost said a "b" word. "What do you want?" I managed to say with admirable restraint. "You're going to do me a favor," she said. I was alarmed and didn't answer. I couldn't figure out what she might be thinking, but I knew it was a lot more than I bargained for. "Gerold wants a threesome." "What!?" "He's been hinting. It's best I do something about it or he'll stick with Victoria." "Victoria?" I was confused. "His wife." "Joanie, I'm not into that! There's no way..." "Listen, you don't have to do anything." I eyed her suspiciously. "I'll tell him you're my friend and that you'll watch and that's all." "No way!" I still wasn't sure I understood this, but I wanted no part of it. "Really, I swear! All you have to do is watch! He's been bugging me about whether I was *into women*--I can tell he's thinking *threesome*. I'll tell him you're a friend of mine and that you'll watch us, but nothing more. It won't be precisely what he was hinting at, but I'll bet it'll be much more than he'll ever get out of that *Victoria*. I tried to imagine it, but couldn't. "No: no way!" "Listen, I don't want to have to call Dad." I stared at her. I couldn't believe she'd said that. She looked guilty. "Please, I'm desperate--you don't know what it's like being the *other woman*." "Joanie, this is too much." "Just dress like it, and watch. That's all." "And he's *really* going to think I'm a woman?" "That won't be any trouble: sorry, but it's true; I can get a wig and do your face..." I stared at her. Finally, she went on: "It's that or Dad--sorry, but I've got to do this." He was big and tall and that frightened me somehow. I'm not very tall--I guess you gathered that since I can wear Joanie's clothes. I wasn't as nervous about the possibility of him spotting me for a man as I might have predicted: Joanie had performed magic on me, and the mirror told me no one was going to start wondering. Besides, I was probably a bit drunk: Joanie and I had prepared ourselves. Joanie whispered in his ear. She'd just finished introducing me as *Debbie*. I realized it wasn't really going to be much of a date: just heading straight for the bedroom. What kind of relationship was it that Joanie had with this guy? He stared at me. While Joanie whispered to him, I noticed a slight smile grow on his face. Joanie took me by the hand and pulled me into the bedroom. Gerold was right there behind us. I sat on a chair, watching them. They were still dressed, sitting on the bed, kissing. They just kissed and kissed for what seemed like minutes, not really moving much. Gerold had Joanie's face in his hands. Finally they broke it. Joanie was out of breath. Gerold immediately had her lying on the bed and leaned over and kissed her again. His right hand was sliding up and down her body over her dress. Finally it slid underneath the hem. I knew it had reached home: her face showed it and she brought one knee up. He still kissed her. She was beginning to writhe and I heard her groan through the kiss, but he didn't stop. Then he finally stopped. He sat up, but she still lay there, staring up at the ceiling, breathing heavily, his hand between her legs. Her breathing was picking up. I'd certainly never seen Joanie like this: my own sister in the throes of passion. More than once it seemed like she was on the verge, only to fail to make it. I caught her face one of those times, and it was pure desperation. His hand was out from between her legs and he was running it up and down her body again, over her breasts and the front of her body. He lifted her to sitting. He touched her lips with his fingertips, then kissed her again for a couple of seconds. "Please," she begged, still breathing hard. It was amazing to see a woman turned on as much as she was. I was hard. He glanced at me, then looked back at her. "Kiss Debbie," he said. His hand was back under her dress again and once again she looked like she was about to. But he withdrew it again. "No... please... bastard..." she said, having trouble talking between her breaths. "Kiss her," he said, his voice harder, and he pulled her over to me. There was my sister, Joanie, kneeling next to me breathing like she'd just run a marathon. His hands were on her breasts. "Do it, now." Her eyes were wild. She grabbed my head and pulled me into a kiss. Her mouth was open. At first she had trouble kissing because of her breathing, but managed to get her tongue in my mouth. I took her head in my hand and kissed her back--I was so hard. We just kissed and kissed. I wasn't thinking--just reacting and feeling. My hands were soon on her back, and going up and down her body. Her rear. Then we were locked in embrace and standing. I felt my cock against her and her breasts against me. It was just us.Then we were apart. Gerold had separated us. Then his mouth was on mine! I still can't believe it, but I didn't think, I just reacted. He stopped after a couple of seconds. If he hadn't, I might have come to my senses and pulled away.Then he kissed Joanie the same way, except that he leaned her backward as he kissed her. But he stopped again, pulling her to standing. "Tell Debbie to kneel," he said. She looked at me. I saw desperation in her eyes, though she didn't say a word. Finally, she whispered in my ear, "Do it." I was on my knees. He stood in front of me and unzipped his pants. "Touch her," he told Joanie. There it was, in front of me. Joanie was behind me, her hands all over me. He took my head with his hands and guided it. "She's new to this," he said to Joanie after a little while. It was so big in my mouth. I *never* thought I'd ever be doing this. He didn't come. He stopped. Then I was on the bed - he'd put me there. On my hands and knees. Joanie lay under me. She pulled on my head down, kissing me, and I was forced down to my elbows. I felt my dress lifted up over my back, and my underpants pulled down. He was going to see. He laughed. Joanie still kissed me, her arms wrapped around my chest. She pulled me against her, practically lifting herself off the bed. My rear was completely uncovered, and he was roaring with laughter. He'd seen, and he was laughing. Then suddenly, he was in me to the hilt. That was months ago: tonight, Joanie and I wait kneeling in her living room. We're both dressed in short nightgowns. Each of us has a leather collar around our neck. My hair is long, like Joanie's. A thin chain dangles between us, linking our collars. We just wait. Gerold opens the door with his key. As usual, Victoria is with him. This time, they've brought another couple that I've never seen before. The four of them are dressed up - they've obviously just been out to dinner. Joanie and I continue to kneel, making no move. Our hands are folded on top of our heads. Victoria walks up to Joanie and takes Joanie's chin in her hand. She lifts Joanie's face and looks down at her. I can sense that Joanie's turned on. "Is that the boy?" asks the other woman. Victoria giggles slightly at the question, still looking down at Joanie's face. "Does it matter?" she replies. Later, the four of them sit around the living room, watching Joanie and me in the middle of the carpet. Victoria and the other woman sit together on the couch, holding hands. Joanie now has a dildo strapped on her. I'm on my hands and knees, and she's in me. I'm very hard. The chain still joins our collars.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/8256.txt

Roadrunner

Slave Teacher

"Ah, Karen, you came just at the right time," Mark greeted Karen as Laura led her into the room by taking the chain over from Laura. He led her to Amy who was lying on the bed with her hip resting on the edge and her hands tied to the headboard. "Oh, Amy!" Karen gasped as she looked at Amy. The young girl was gagged and, like Karen, her nipples were now ornamented with two gold rings. "Hmmmm..." Amy whined under her gag as she looked at her teacher with tear-filled eyes. "So did you guys have a good time downstairs?" Steve asked, chuckling. "Yeah, we certainly had a great time, right, slut?" said Laura as she came over and uncuffed Karen. "Now," she continued as she lit a candle and handed it to Karen, "why don't you show Amy what we've been doing downstairs..." "No! Please!" Karen pleaded as she dropped down to her knees and grabbed Laura's hand. "Please don't make me do this! Please!" "Listen, slut! Either you do it or we'll do it ourselves, and we'll do it twice! We'll clean her up and start all over again! Is that what you want?" "No!" Karen pleaded as tears began to fill her eyes. "What d'you mean 'no'? Do you want me to start now?" "Oh, no! Please! Alright! I'll, I'll do it!" "Now that's my girl! Here, take it!" said Laura as she gave Karen the candle. "Oh, Amy, I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" said Karen as she stood next to Amy, sobbing. Amy was breathing quickly and looking at the candle in her hand in fear. "C'mon, do it!" Laura urged. Sobbing, Karen tilted the candle and let a drop of wax fall onto Amy's belly. "Hmm!" Amy moaned under the gag and jumped. "Go on!" as they urged, Karen continued until there were drops of wax all over Amy's breasts, belly and thighs. Amy was moaning and wriggling in pain all the time. When Karen was finally allowed to stop, she was almost exhausted. "Now, clean her up!" said Dr Jackson as he handed her the whip. "Remember, if we have to do it we'll do it twice as hard, slut!" Knowing that it's useless to beg, Karen took the whip and, biting her lower lip, whipped Amy lightly across her belly, but none of the dried wax came off. "C'mon, harder!" Steve scolded. Crack! Karen brought the whip down on Amy again, and this time some of the dried wax came off, revealing an area of skin which was now turning red. Amy whimpered as Karen brought the whip down on her again and again, until all of the dried wax came off her body. "Oh, God," Karen whined, "what have I done!" "Excellent!" said Mark as he patted Karen on her ass. "Now let's give your special student a kiss, miss Johnson!" he said chuckling as he pushed Karen forward to Amy. "Oh, Amy!" Karen whispered to the sobbing teen as she held her face gently in her hands. She kissed the girl's cheek gently, then kissed her mouth through the gag. Slowly, she began kissed her way down Amy's neck to her breasts, soothing the skin that she had hurt with her lips and tongue. The double-head dildo was still half-buried in her pussy, and her movements while whipping Amy had caused it to rub against her pussy, which was by now dripping wet. Her kisses soon reached Amy's pussy and, after licking it a few times, she was ordered to fuck Amy with the double-head dildo, and she quickly complied. Easing the dildo in slowly, Karen began fucking Amy in long, gentle strokes. Soon, she could feel Amy trembling lightly under her, and she increased her tempo. "Oh, Amy, oh, oh," she moaned as she fucked Amy harder and harder until the girl signaled her orgasm with her moans and spasms. She continued pumping Amy until she also came with a loud moan. Karen hugged her student tightly as she tried to catch her breath. She felt ashamed that she had fucked Amy so roughly in the heat of her own passions, and she felt more ashamed when her colleagues all applauded and cheered at her performance. After Karen had licked the dildo clean, the two were finally allowed to rest. They were gagged and laid face to face on the bed, with their hands chained to the headboard so that they couldn't turn. "Sleep tight, girls!" said Laura as she gave Karen a spank on her ass before leaving the room. When they were left alone in the room, Karen looked at Amy, who was looking at her. After a pause, and, much to Karen's surprise, the girl whimpered and pressed her body against Karen's. Closing her eyes, Amy began rubbing her breasts against Karen's. Karen could feel Amy's rock-hard nipples together with the rings, and her own nipples were also rock hard. Her breath quickened as Amy went on, and she let out a muffled moan as Amy pushed a leg between Karen's legs and began rubbing her thigh against Karen's pussy. Karen shuddered and returned the favor. Soon the two were humping passionately against each other until they both came, locking their legs together, squeezing their thighs wildly. Karen opened her eyes and saw that Amy still had her eyes closed. For a moment she thought she could see a faint smile behind the gag. Then Amy's breath slowed down as she sank into a deep sleep, and Karen, after watching her for a while, also drifted off to sleep. Karen was woken up the next day by Laura who came to uncuff her. "Good morning, my pet, did you have a good sleep?" "Y-yes," Karen answered meekly as Laura removed her gag. "C'mon, let's go downstairs quietly. We don't want to disturb your sleeping beauty here do we? Unless you want her to join you." "Oh, no, no," Karen answered in a lowered voice. She followed Laura downstairs to the living room where the three men were waiting, then the chain joining her nipple rings were also removed. "Good morning, slut," Mark greeted her, smiling. "G-good morning, sir," Karen answered submissively. "How're you feeling this morning, slut?" Mark continued as he gently stroked her breasts. "F-fine, sir, th-thank you." Karen answered, knowing that something horrible was coming. "Good," said Mark, "'Cos we have made a plan for you. We were aware that you've missed a meeting with Ben the other day, right?" "Y-yes, sir," "Now that's not very good is it?" "No, sir," "And we'd better make up to Ben before he gets too angry, right?" "Yes, sir," Karen answered with a trembling voice. "As your masters, we have thought of a way that you can make it up to Ben..." As Karen listened in horror, Mark laid out the arrangement. Karen was to go to school and drop Ben a note and ask him to meet her in the storeroom behind the gym, where Dr Jackson had a video camera installed so that they could watch what happened. Karen was to please Ben in every way that he demanded, and she had to finish and come back to Dr Jackson's house before three in the afternoon, otherwise Amy would be punished. "Now, doesn't that sound like great fun?" Laura cooed as she grabbed Karen's breasts from behind. Karen closed her eyes and moaned in dismay. "Dear Ben, I'm sorry I missed our appointment the other day. I have no excuse and I deserve to be punished. Please come and meet me in the storeroom at the back of the gym and use me like the slut that I am. Your slut Karen" Ben grinned as he read the note. He wasn't quite happy about having to work on Saturday morning, but now things seemed to be looking much better for him. The problem was that he wasn't expecting anything like this, and he hadn't got the toys that he had for Karen with him. What the hell, he thought, we can try them some other time. After looking through his drawers, he took the bamboo rod, the collar and some metals clips and hurried to the gym. "So there you are, Miss Johnson," he chuckled as he saw Karen. The young teacher was standing in the middle of the room, gagged, naked except for her g-string and a pair of high heels. Her hands were cuffed together and attached to a hook from a chain hanging above her head, keeping her standing straight, and her clothes were folded neatly in a corner of the room.What attracted Ben's attention most was the gold rings on her erect nipples and the word "SLUT" written on her left breast in bright red lipstick (it was Mark's idea). Karen looked at Ben in shame and fear as he approached. "Mine, mine," he murmured. "Did you do this yourself?" Ben asked. Closing her eyes in shame, Karen nodded as Mark had ordered her to. "And this too?" Ben asked as he took the ring on her left nipple and tugged it gently. Whimpering, Karen nodded. Ben felt like his cock was going to burst out of his pants when he walked behind Karen and saw the words "USE ME" written across her ass. "Holy shit!" he chuckled as he raised the thin bamboo rod, "You're a real slut, aren't you?" swish! "Aren't you?" swish! "Aren't you!" swish! With each question, he brought the rod heavily down onto Karen's ass, which, to his curiosity, was already criss-crossed with faint marks. After whipping her a few times, Ben couldn't wait any longer and unzipped his pants. "Got to give that little slut a good fuck first, and then we'll continue with the rod and other stuff," he thought as he tore Karen's g-string off. Grabbing her thighs, he entered her hot, wet pussy in one deep thrust. "Hmmmm!" Karen groaned as Ben began pumping her. Ben squeezed her breasts and pinched her pierced nipples roughly. Then, grabbing her breasts, he used them as grips to pull her towards him as he fucked her, drawing muffled cries from her. "Here, take this, slut!" Ben shouted as he began pumping his cum deep into her burning pussy. "Holy shit, man! What are you doing!" Ben and Karen were woken up from their trance by the voice of a student. Karen opened her eyes in terror and saw a guy from the football team standing at the door. In his haste, Ben had forgotten to lock the door, and their cries had drawn the attention of the entire football team, who were on their way to the changing room. "It's okay, guys," Ben chuckled, embarrassed, as he quickly pulled out of Karen. "Miss Johnson and I are just having a little fun here, right, Miss Johnson?" "Hey man, look at her tits!" Another student shouted, "They're pierced!" "Yeah," Ben went on, "as you can see, Miss Johnson here is really into, you know, kinky stuff. Right, Karen?" He said, pinching her ass. Karen couldn't believe this was happening. All she could do was to lower her head in shame. "I asked you a question, slut!" said Ben angrily, spanking her ass hard. Karen jumped at the blow and opened her eyes. "Answer me, slut!" Ben asked as he spanked her again and again. Closing her eyes, she nodded. "See?" said Ben, "she got turned on by this!" "Wow! She's certainly a hot bitch, Ben!" "Yeah, now if you guys promise to keep this secret, I'm sure Miss Johnson won't mind you joining in! C'mon!" Mesmerized, the students approached. Karen looked at them in horror. She tugged at her bonds, but Ben held her tight. "C'mon!" He urged, "I guarantee it's okay!" Karen whimpered when the first guy felt between her legs. "God, she's dripping wet!" He exclaimed. Soon hands were all over Karen's body, squeezing her breasts, pulling at her nipple rings, fingering her pussy and her ass. In their frenzy, Ben was pushed aside, and all he could do was to stand in a corner of the room and watch them fuck her, one after another. When the first two students were done, Karen was uncuffed and placed onto her hands and knees. By now she wasn't struggling at all, and when a student grabbed her hip and entered her asshole, all she did was close her eyes and groan. "Oh, oh," she moaned as her gag was removed, but her moans were soon muffled when another guy shoved his cock into her mouth. Karen couldn't remember how many times she'd been fucked in her mouth, her pussy, her ass, or even between her breasts, and she had also lost count of how many times she had come. When the last guy finally pulled out of her, she collapsed on the floor, exhausted. "Hey," one of the students said, "anyone want another go?" "Let's take a break first," another guy answered, "it's only three, we've got plenty of time. Or maybe we should call our friends!" It's three already! Amy! Karen screamed in her mind. The students laughed as she struggled to get up. "Still haven't got enough, huh?" a guy said as he grabbed her ankle, "okay, let's have another round, Miss Johnson!" Gathering all her strength, Karen kicked him hard in the groin, and as he howled with pain and let go of her, Karen ran out of the gym as fast as she could. There were only a few students outside, and they watched wide-eyed as their teacher ran naked across the school yard towards the main gate. All that was on her mind was that she had to get away from all those guys. She ran out of the school and across the road. As she heard a screeching noise and turned to look, she saw a van coming towards her. She screamed and fell onto the ground, with the van just avoiding hitting her. The driver of the van jumped out and ran to see if she was hit. "Jesus Christ!" He cried out in shock as he saw Karen's naked body with all the bruises and cum stains all over her face, her breasts and her thighs. Karen's memory of the chaotic events that followed--the police investigations and the sensational trial--was all a blur. In the end, all the staff involved--Dr Jackson, Laura, Mara, Ben, Mark and Steve--were indicted and convicted. However, to avoid an even bigger scandal, the authorities decided not to press charges against any of the students. Although the school was eventually re-opened, Karen never went back. She was offered therapy, but after a few months she quit and moved to another state. Her career as a teacher was over, not only because of the publicity of the event, but also because she couldn't bring herself to stand in front of a class again. She took up a job as a library clerk in a quiet, small town. She heard that Amy had moved to another school, but lost contact with her when she moved out of state. Since then, life had become very quiet for Karen. She worked, went out with her colleagues from time to time, but most of the evenings were spent quietly in her apartment. It was more than a year later when, one evening, she heard her doorbell ring. She went to answer the door and, much to her surprise, found Amy standing outside. "Amy!" She exclaimed, "what are you doing here?" "I-I've been looking for you..." the girl answered quietly. "Wh-what?" Karen asked, dumbfounded. "I've been looking for you. I-I miss you, Miss Johnson." Amy said shyly, her eyes wet with tears. "Oh, poor girl," said Karen as she took the girl in her arms. As Karen held her in her arms, Amy looked up and, holding Karen's head with her hands, kissed her on her lips. Shocked at first, Karen soon found herself returning the kiss passionately, and the tender moments that they had in the ordeal that they went through together sprang up in her mind. When Amy pressed her body against Karen, Karen could tell that she wasn't wearing a bra. She could not only feel the pressure of Amy's erect nipples but also something else. It was her nipple rings. "You've k--kept them?" Karen asked when they finally broke off their passionate kiss. Blushing, Amy nodded. "M-me too," Karen whispered, blushing herself. "Come on in, my pet," she said tenderly as she let Amy into her apartment and closed the door behind them. The end

Chapter 11

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/13051.txt

Corn53

The Birthday Party

"I feel so dressed up," Marie Clair said to Inga and Mrs. Hardman, who had just helped her with all the starched slips under her short ruffled white dress. She was wearing her ruffled ankle socks and 2-inch heels. Her sandy-red hair was combed into two pigtails with white ribbons to match her dress. With her sheer, white, nylon panties and bra, she felt more like a pretty 2nd grader than a 9th grader! At first, she was disappointed that only 3 adults came to the dinner party. Her disappointment turned to relief after dinner when she saw all the beautifully wrapped presents and learned about the 'game' she would have to play to get the presents - relief that more people would not see her bare bottom. All three of the guests, along with the Hardmans and Inga, would give her 14 bare-bottom spankings for each gift, along with some "directions-following" challenges. They all told her how pretty she was and lavished kisses and good wishes on her. Marie Clair enjoyed being the center of such attention and resolved to go along with their 'games' no matter how silly they seemed. She wasn't able to follow the instructions for the 'code game' of saying the opposite, like saying 'hard spankings' when you meant 'soft spankings,' but she was determined to try her best. "Let's video tape Marie Clair's party tonight," Dr. Hardman suggested before they left the dining room, "OK, Marie Clair?" "Well, ummm, OK, Dr. Hardman. Nobody will see it except for us, right?" Blushing, "Especially since you said I would have to pull down my panties for the spankings." "Only birthday guests will see it, Dear," Mrs. Hardman replied for him. "Don't you worry. You might think it's funny later." Then in a whisper into Marie Clair's ear, "I know you'll be getting some pretty little new panties. So don't worry about taking these off." She patted her tenderly on the bottom. "Just do whatever they say." They all went into the living room while Inga cleared off the table. Everyone was dressed up tonight, and even Inga had on a longer skirt. "Where are the rugs?" Marie Clair asked. "We put the Persian rugs away for our party. We thought we were going to have more guests," answered Dr. Hardman. "First you need to open this one, Marie Clair," said Mr. Long, as he sat in the middle of the couch with a pretty package. "Now for your 'directions following test' - Lift up your skirt, pull your panties to your knees and try to walk over here without letting them fall all the way down." Dr. Hardman was working the camera as she shuffled over to stand in front of the couch. "Front or back first?" asked Mr. Long as he slapped his hand with a paint stirring stick. "Remember, I will spank softly on the front and really hard on the back." "Well, then let's start on the front," giggled out the excited Marie Clair, anxious to open presents and feeling quite embarrassed with her panties down. "Should I stand here?" as she lifted her skirt higher right in front of him. "No, lay on your back across my lap," and he pulled one of the cushions down beside him for her head and shoulders. "Let me pull your panties down to your ankles so you can get your knees farther apart. Don't let them fall off, but just keep them stretched between your ankles. That's a girl. Put your knees as far apart as you can. Each time I spank you, say, 'Thank you for the spank. Please do it a little harder, sir.' OK, Marie Clair? Now open wide!" Dr. Hardman had stopped taping for a moment. "OK, I'll say it, but please don't spank too hard." "If I spank too hard, say, 'please spank me harder.' OK?" Dr. Hardman started the tape again - just before the first front spank hit right on the open mound between her legs with a soft 'smack!' "Thank you for the spank. Please do it a little harder, Sir." The next 13 spanks were harder - so she kept asking for him to spank harder. Her body twitched with each stroke, but she continued to keep her knees wide apart while Dr. Hardman zoomed in. Mr. Long stroked her lightly between each spank, which both put her at ease and made her tingle. She was getting over her initial embarrassment, concentrating on opening her knees after each tap. Then she sat up on his lap and began opening the first gift. When she pulled out the leather ankle and wrist cuffs, each with a metal ring, she didn't know what to think. Mrs. Hardman presented the next gift after 14 medium-hard spanks on her bare bottom. She took the time to massage Marie Clair's burning fanny between spanks. To everyone's surprise, Marie Clair thanked her also, "Thank you for the spank. Please do it harder, Ma'am." Then Marie Clair opened the present, clutching the navy blue silk panties with no cotton liner, and a matching sheer bra which she held to her chest with an appreciative laugh and a hearty, "Thank you, Ma'am. I love these." "Come, Sweetheart, let's go try on your gifts and hurry back down." "No, no. It's just us. Try them on right here in the living room. Besides, we all just witnessed your bare bottom spankings," reminded Dr. Hardman. The others agreed. So while the video camera rolled, Marie Clair took off everything but her black, high-heeled party shoes and lacy ankle socks, and tried on the new dark blue panties and bra. They helped her with the ankle and wrist cuffs, while Mr. Long took a leaf out of the table, leaving a gap, and put a pillow on the edge. "Let's play over at the table now, Marie Clair. Put your legs apart so we can tie your ankle bracelets to the table legs." "Are you sure, Dr. Hardman?" "It's part of the game. We'll fasten your arms to the other end and your pretty new bra will hang in the center of the table where Mr. Long took the leaf out." Dr. Hardman coaxed the somewhat reluctant Marie Clair, patting the pillow. She leaned over the pillow and they pulled her feet next to the table legs and fastened her cuffs with rope. They stretched her arms forward to make it easy for Mrs. Hardman to put the ropes through the metal rings on her wrist straps, and fasten the rope to the table legs at the other end. Mr. Long had clamped the table open wide enough so her breasts would be suspended where the table leaf had been removed. Mr. Jones put a pillow on the other side of the gap for Marie to rest her head on. Her fanny was several inches above the table top, and she had enough range of motion to wiggle it back and forth or up and back. "These spanks will sting a little, Marie Clair, but be sure to say 'thank you' again." "Yes, Sir," she replied without much enthusiasm. Marie Clair resolved to answer with enthusiasm even if it did sting, because she wanted all the presents. Fourteen medium-hard spanks later - all on video - they opened her present for her. She didn't know what it was. It looked like a flashlight body made of white plastic. Mrs. Hardman twisted it, and it started making a buzzing noise. She put it up against Marie Clair's arm. It tickled. "That tickles, Mrs. Hardman, but it feels good," she commented as Mrs. Hardman walked it along her side, pausing to tickle Marie Clair's new bra while Dr. Hardman zoomed in on her face. When Mrs. Hardman began tickling Marie Clair's new panties, he zoomed back in on her face. "Oh, that really tickles, Mrs. Hardman. Umm," as she began squirming. "Oh, Mrs. Hardman. What is that thing? It tickles." "Do you want me to stop?" "No, not yet," she answered quickly, which made the adults laugh. They noted she was beginning to squirm around while getting tickled. "We'll tickle you with this some more after you get your next two presents," She promised the girl. Then to her husband, "What time is it? Do we need to hurry?" "Yes, we'd better give her the next two presents right now. Let me open these for you, Marie Clair," and he began on the next one of the packages, setting down the video camera. Mr. Long and Inga helped open the other one in front of the curious Marie Clair. "What's the rush?" Marie Clair asked them while trying to figure out what the rubber ball with the leather strap through it could be for. She knew what the blindfold was for. "Is this stuff for the game?" "Yes, Marie. Before we play the next part of the game, we want you to say this into the camera," and he gave her the lines. "But of course, WE won't spank you any harder. OK?"She practiced once, remembering that this must be part of the 'code game,' and then said enthusiastically into the camera, getting into the spirit of the strange game, still enjoying being the center of attention of the 5 older people, and looking forward to getting 'tickled' on her panties again. "I love to get spanked and tickled - front and back. I'm going to pretend to object and struggle but it's just part of the game. I really like to get spanked. Please spank me real hard. I especially like to get spanked on my bare bottom! Maybe you could even put your fingers in me. I would like it if you did. Please spank me REAL HARD!" Then they put the gag in her mouth and blindfolded her. As promised, Mrs. Hardman began tickling her panties with the white plastic thing. It felt so good that she began to squirm around whenever the buzzer pressed right between her legs, causing a wet spot to develop on the dark blue panties. She felt vulnerable with her ankles tied to the table legs, her arms stretching her forward over the gap in the table, only wearing a sheer bra and panties, ruffled white ankle socks and her high heels, unable to speak or see, but the feeling between her legs was holding all her attention.... until she heard the doorbell. MORE PARTY GUESTS The older adults all left to get the door. Inga slapped Marie's extended bottom with a laugh. "Get ready for your party, Honey," pressing her panties into her with the vibrator. Then she left to greet the new guests. She heard several adults walk in talking with the Hardmans when the doorbell rang again. Marie tried to break free to no avail, her pleading cries sounded like, "Ugghh, unnff unggngh." She began to pick up parts of conversations as the new guests entered. "Mrs. Hardman, You remember Brian, don't you? He just got his temporary driver's permit so we let him drive us over tonight. And since Nick is only 12 we didn't want to leave him home alone. Neither of the boys wanted to come to a girl's birthday party, but I told them they might enjoy it." Lots of hands were now playfully patting Marie Clair's bottom but no hard spanks yet. She could feel herself turning red - brighter than her red lipstick. "Well, of course the boys are welcome. They can help us spank and tickle her. But first let's all watch the video we recorded earlier tonight." The room got quiet as they all watched the video on the big screen TV. "The boys will like this part where she pulls down her panties and lifts her dress. Now, boys, look how she twitches each time the little paddle hits her pussy, but you can tell she likes it, can't you?" "Yes, Ma'am," said two young voices. "She is so pretty." "Could I please get a copy of the video, Mrs. Hardman, asked one of the young voices?" "Why Brian, that's a nice idea. But first I'd like to get shots of you and your brother spanking her. Wouldn't you like to be in the video, too?" "Yes Ma'am. That would be cool! Could I show it to my friends?" "That's up to your mother, but I suppose you could show it to your friends at your house, just don't make copies. OK?" Marie Clair could hear herself getting spanked on the video again, and begging for harder spanks - front and back! Then she heard herself saying how she was going to pretend to object and struggle but that she really liked getting spanked and wanted the guests to put their fingers in her! "Mrs. Hardman," asked the younger voice, "Is Aunt Sarah coming over? Maybe she could bring Billy. I know he would like to spank Marie Clair, too. And he'll be studying about girls and sex and stuff in his 6th grade health class." "Maybe I should run home and get my kids, too," said a woman's voice, "They should learn about this." "Splendid idea. I'll go call Sarah. Meanwhile why don't you two boys give her a few practice spanks. It's OK for you to touch her anywhere you want. Ask your mother if you can pull down her panties in a few minutes." "Oh, it's fine with me. I think it's healthy for boys to learn what girls look and feel like. Go ahead boys." said their mother. The boys spent the next 15 minutes giving her playful spanks and feeling her legs and panties. Marie heard the door close without a doorbell sound, which told her that the woman left to get her kids. She wondered if they would be boys or girls and how old they were. Her skin turned a brighter pink - redder than her hair. "Ungggh! Oggghh! Nnnnfgh" said Marie Clair as she fought against her bindings. "Ungggh! Unnngh!" mimicked Brian, laughing. "She's really pretending she wants to get away, isn't she Brian. Oh, look. How's come her panties are wet here?" asked Nick, the younger brother while he patted her fanny. "Did she pee in her panties?" More visitors were now entering the room, including 12-year-old Billy who ran over to join his cousins. "She really likes this, Billy," said Nick, demonstrating a hard slap on her fanny, "You want to try it?" "Oh neat!" said Billy, "Let me practice the drums on her butt!" and started laughing as he gave her a dozen rhythmic but hard slaps. "Why are her panties so wet?" "You boys! She's wet because she likes getting tickled with this thing. Let me show you how to use it. Watch how she wiggles when I press this up against her," said Inga. She pressed the vibrator against Marie Clair's panties "Let me pull her panties aside and put this most of the way into her. You boys watch it, and tell me when it falls all the way out." Then Inga pulled Marie Clair's panties back over the vibrator to keep it from falling right out, and pulled them up snugly - tight as a drum - trapping it in her. Whenever the vibrator started to slide out, it formed a 'tent' in the growing wet area of her dark panties. "Unggh! Agghng!" as she tried to pull her knees together, squirming. "Unnnngh!" mimicked the boys, laughing again and pulling the panties tighter whenever 'the tent' started to develop. It took almost 5 minutes for her to wiggle it all the way out into her panties. But that wasn't really fair because the boys 'accidentally' pushed it back in several times before it came all the way out. While the boys were thwarting Marie Clair's efforts to expel the vibrator, the door opened and Marie Clair heard two more kids enter the room, one of them running over to look at her. "Look at her panties," said a girl's voice, "She must have peepeed in them!" followed by some giggles. "Heather, maybe you should go watch the video with your mommy before you start saying stupid things," explained Billy to the younger girl. "It's not pee. She's excited to have us spanking and tickling her. But you're too young to know that. When big girls get excited, that gooey, wet stuff comes out." "I'm almost as old as you, Billy, so shut up. You're only four months older than me. And remember last summer at Camp Sunshine when we saw that neither of us had pubic hair? Well I've got 5 now," she bragged. Then to Inga, "What's making that buzzing noise in her panties?" "Ok," said Inga who had pretended not to notice that the boys kept pushing the vibrator all the way back in the birthday girl. "Look how much wetter her panties are now. We'll be pulling them off in a minute." And Inga pulled it out from inside the panties she pointed out to the curious boys how wet and slippery it was. "Feel it, Nick. Let Heather feel it. This is a slim one - about the same size as Dr. Hardman's finger," holding it up for everyone nearby to see. Several women raised their eyebrows at Inga's last remark. The vibrator was glistening with Marie's pubescent lubricant. "It's about the same diameter as two of your fingers, isn't it Nick?" "Here, Brian, You try it. Hold it firmly and push it against her panties. Then you can try it on her bra, too, if you want to, before you pull down her panties. Oh, Hi, Robby, I didn't see you come in," said Inga. "Oh boy, this thing tickles my hand! Here, feel this, Nick. You go first. You guys can tickle her with it. I want to go feel her bra," the boys were talking quickly and laughing, encouraged by the adults who were now giving their drink orders to Inga. The doorbell rang several times as other guests arrived. Marie Clair heard several of the adults say things like, "Boys will be boys." "Her dark panties are wet already." "It's a great way for the kids to learn anatomy," and so forth. "Go ahead and pull down her panties now, boys. We're going to give her some more spankings so she can earn more of her gifts." "Ew, look. Her panties are sticking to her where they are wet," said Nick. "It looks gooey," exclaimed Billy, getting a close look. "Can I touch it?" asked Heather. "Of course, Dear," answered Heather's mom. "I wanted you to see this." "That 'gooey stuff' won't hurt anything. Girls do that when they get excited. It's how their bodies make it easy for things to slip into them," explained Mr. Long. "That's it, boys. Pull them down as far as they go with her feet fastened that far apart. Then you can take turns putting a finger into her if you want. Did you each give her 14 spankings yet?" Dr. Hardman's deep baritone voice added, "With her legs that far apart you'll have to really stretch them. Maybe we should cut them off on one side. What do you think?" The boys were now eagerly pulling them almost to her knees, when the material ripped on one leg, so that the panties slid all the way down to her left ankle. All the adults laughed at the sound of the ripping panties. Heather was giggling. The video was playing for the new arrivals.One of the adults suggested that the boys see how slippery the wet stuff was that was glistening around Marie Clair's totally exposed, upraised, bald pussy. A man wet his finger while showing them how to push in slowly at first to make sure there was plenty of lubrication. "She is really wet. That means she's ready for things to slip in, but first you'd better each give her the spankings," saying this just as someone turned up the volume on the TV so everybody could hear Marie begging to get spanked harder. All four of the boys and Heather had their heads close to Marie Clair's bottom, looking intently. "Come over here a minute, kids, and watch this and you can see when she started getting wet. You can see other ways her body changed when she received some front spanks, too." They reluctantly accompanied Dr. Hardman to the TV. He rewound to the beginning of the front spanks and paused the tape. Marie Clair heard him explain, "You can see inside her pussy in this close-up shot before the spankings started. Notice she is completely dry and all the tissue is soft. It's difficult to distinguish the different parts. Watch how that changes over the course of the 14 spanks. Notice how quickly she spreads her knees apart after each spank." Everyone, including the adults, watched quietly, which made the relative volume seem even louder as Marie Clair twitched in the video with each spank and begged to get spanked harder, and thanked Mr. Long for spanking and rubbing her. Although Marie Clair could not see the video, she heard several comments about how she seemed to get wetter with each spank. "Now here's a close-up after the last spank. Notice how wet she is and see how the little bump in front is swollen. All of her tissue appears much firmer and somewhat enlarged, doesn't it, boys? You can distinguish the separate parts. See how easily Mr. Long can slide his fingers over the erect ridge down the center. Her magic button is at the bottom end of that ridge, just where it flares out into two tiny flaps beside her hole." "Yes, sir. You can see the difference," answered Brian for the group. "That indicates that she really likes hard spankings. Observing those changes in her pussy may help you in your Health classes, too," he chuckled at his own humor. Several adults asked to watch that part again as Heather and the four boys went back to Marie Clair with renewed interest in female anatomy. "You can use your hand, one of the wooden paddles, the belt, the hairbrush, this riding crop, or the cane, but don't hit too hard with the cane. Maybe you should each try a few swats with each one," said Mr. Long. "Each type of paddle makes a different mark and a different sound. Pay close attention and take your time. You'll get to finger her soon enough," then added in a quiet, fatherly voice, "And boys... and you too, Heather... remember that she kept saying that she likes really hard spankings," then he gave them a knowing wink. A lady's voice suggested, "Billy and Nick, why don't you give her the spanks for your mothers. Then you can begin putting your fingers in her and playing with the vibrator." Several more adults came over to watch this round of spankings. The adults intended to give their spankings later when the kids lost interest. One of them had been video taping the boys' fascination with little Marie Clair's bottom with a new tape. "I want to try that riding thing," said Nick eagerly, as he swished it through the air. "The paddle," said Brian. "Well, I want to try all the paddles, starting with the ping-pong paddle." SMACK! on Marie Clair's left cheek. Brian then bent closer to watch as the area reddened. "Can I spank her in the same spot each time? Or should I hit different areas?" "Unnnngh!" Marie Clair squirmed. "Wherever you want to, Brian," said Dr. Hardman, smiling and patting him on the head. "But, even though she likes hard spankings, only give her five hard ones out of each set of fourteen. Then she won't know when a hard one is coming." SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! went Brian - all three in the same spot, laughing with the other boys at Marie Clair's noises and writing. "She really likes this, doesn't she?" They proceeded to each give her 14 spanks with all of the different 'tools' provided, sometimes stopping to rub her fanny and check to see if she was getting wetter, even Heather checked. They had each surreptitiously slipped fingers in while rubbing between spanks, noticing the changes in Marie Clair's posture. She tried to hunch forward away from the paddles but then arched back into the probing fingers - as if trying to wiggle closer. "Brian, let's see who can make her twitch or flinch the most," challenged Billy. "OK. Let me try the belt next." Marie jumped in her bindings as the next two swishes of the belt stung her bottom. Brian winked at the crowd as he said aloud, "Now for a really hard one. Stand back. Zoom in close on her fanny," still grinning as he swished the belt over the top of Marie Clair's back, missing her fanny completely. Everybody laughed at Marie Clair's flinch when she heard the sound of the belt in the quiet room. They laughed some more and patted and felt her and taunted her with things like, "Bet you're sorry I missed. Let me see if she got wetter with anticipation - Yep, she did!" And more laughter as all five children investigated her pussy. "Maybe we'd better wait before giving her the spankings for your moms," suggested one of the ladies. "Let me feel how wet she is now." Marie Clair felt a long manicured fingernail flick her button several times and then slide easily all the way into her. "Oh yes, boys. You're doing a fine job on our little birthday girl." The boys began sliding their fingers into her pussy, commenting on how tight it felt inside. They commented on the viscosity and color of the silvery wetness. Billy and Nick almost started fighting - trying to get in first, when someone suggested they see how fast they could take turns. Marie Clair was now holding still so they would not miss the center. She even lifted her bottom higher, standing on her tippy toes and arching her back to present an easier target. Billy's finger plunged in the instant Nick's came out - over and over. Brian set the cadence by calling their names like a drill instructor. "Mr. Long, Dr. Hardman wants you to plug this wire in the back of the video camera so everyone can get a close-up view on the large TV," and Marie Clair heard some clicking as it was plugged in. "If she's 14, why doesn't she have any hair?" asked Billy while he was getting his fingers wet in the oozing pussy. "Oh, this feels slippery, almost greasy." "We shaved off her little tuft so you boys could see better," answered Inga. "I shave mine, too. Can I get you kids some pop? Remember, this is a party. I'm sure our little birthday girl wants her guests to have a good time!" "Can we look at yours, Inga?" asked one of the boys. "I'm a servant and will do whatever you ask me to do, Brian." "Maybe later, for comparison," interjected Dr. Hardman. "She's busy right now." Brian stepped up close to Dr. Hardman and tilted his head away from the crowd to indicate he wanted a private word. Then he asked discreetly if he could examine Inga in more depth at a later date, explaining he had so much to learn. Dr. Hardman chuckled and said, "Of course, Brian. I'm sure Inga would be happy to take you past your 'learner's permit!' Stop by next week." After the boys had been taking turns fingering and feeling Marie Clair, someone suggested that the two younger boys try two fingers at once. "This is really fun!" said Billy. "My fingers just slide right in." "I want to try those 'front spanks,'" the taciturn Robby finally speaking, "OK?" Mr. Long asked one of the other men to take over the video camera while he set up the kids so Robby could give Marie Clair some 'front spanks.' "Billy and Nick, I want each of you to put a hand on her fanny and your other hand on her thigh just above her knees. That's it. Now pull her open so Robby can hit the target." "Hold her open a moment, boys," Dr. Hardman continued his 'lessons.' "You can see part way up her vagina when she is pulled open like that." That comment renewed Marie Clair's attempt for some modesty so she tried to squeeze her pussy shut, but each time she tried, the pull of the boy's hands re-opened her. The kids and the crowd were quiet as they noticed that each 'squeeze-shut' effort pushed out almost a 1/2 teaspoon of her pubescent, glistening 'wetness,' which dripped out to form a small puddle on the polished wood floor between her fastened feet - all caught close-up on the video. Robby was very timid with the first few spanks, not wanting to hurt Marie Clair and not wanting anyone to know how much he was enjoying this. With encouragement from the crowd, he gave her some harder smacks - right on her very firm little button. He paused several times to check Marie Clair's wetness, enjoying his task, but still not smiling. Then the four boys took turns fingering her hole or feeling the different parts in front. Two of the ladies were discussing other nieces and nephews who might enjoy learning anatomy this way. "If nothing else, we could share our video with them." Mr. Long said, "Here's another idea for you boys. Billy and Nick, pull her fanny open again. That's it. Let me show you something else. You could also put your fingers in her bottom. You have to go slow and dip several times in front to keep your finger slippery." He finally pushed his finger all the way in even though Marie Clair was squeezing as tight as she could."She's trying to squeeze shut, boys, so get your fingers really wet and push in slowly - but hard." "Let me try it," said Brian, "I bet I can get mine in all the way the first time." next: he does it, then ICE CREAM & CAKE... AND GAMES

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11381.txt

Charles Thain

My Weekend in Portland

"It's a strap-on dildo," I said. "I bought it this afternoon." I took the device out of its bag and handed it to Ruth. I'd had to go to three "adult" stores before I found what I wanted. Most of the strap-ons I saw were either flimsy vinyl contraptions, or they sported dildos so huge they would severely damage any normal woman. This one came with a sturdy, comfortable harness and a pink dildo of human proportions. LARGE human proportions, but not life-threatening. It was even shaped like a penis, with a fat glans and the suggestion of veins molded into it. "How does it work?" Denise asked, fascinated. I had her kneel on the bed and began fitting the strap-on around her hips. The base of the dildo was attached to a triangular pad that fitted over Denise's mons, covering her pussy. One thin, soft strap led from the bottom of the triangle between her legs and up through her ass-crack. I led the other, wider straps over her hips where all three connected to a second, smaller triangle just above her butt-crack. I adjusted the straps until the pink rubber dildo was held firmly in place, jutting out from her groin. Denise pulled the tip of the dildo up to her belly, reaching nearly to her navel. She let go and it fell back, bobbing heavily in front of her. She giggled. "Isn't this kind of big?" she laughed. "Would you believe it's the smallest I could find?" "Hmmm. Wearing this makes me want to go for a beer ... in a topless bar!" she joked. Ruth, too, was studying the pink phallus hanging from Denise's crotch. "Does that work like I think it works?" she asked. "She can actually use that like ... you use yours?" "Yep, that's the idea," I said, "but I've never actually seen anybody use one ... outside of an X-rated movie. It looks real, but it might not work." "Let's try," Denise said eagerly. "If it's no good we can always do something else." "Okaaaay," Ruth said cautiously. She moved to the middle of the bed and laid on her back, propping herself up on her elbows to watch. Denise knelt awkwardly between her legs, then leaned forward, guiding the fake phallus with one hand while leaning her weight on the other. Ruth reached between her legs to help guide the dildo and Denise suspended herself on both arms, eager to push. "Ready," Ruth said breathlessly, and Denise began pushing, but with little effect. They changed position slightly and tried again. "Stop," Ruth gasped after half a minute. "It won't go in. I don't think I'm wet enough." She blushed. Amazing, I thought. A woman she barely knows is trying to push a rubber penis into her most private opening, and Ruth is embarrassed because she isn't wet enough. Her attitude truly HAD changed. "I think I can help," I said, nudging my way between Ruth's legs. Denise scooted aside and I leaned forward, sliding my hands under Ruth's buttocks. I lifted her hips and eagerly descended on her pussy, hungry for her taste, smelling her sex. I nuzzled through her pubes to kiss her thick outer lips, then darted my tongue between them. I found her opening, then slowly traced my way up her channel toward her little bud. Ruth was up on her elbows, watching me closely, panting quickly. I avoided touching her clit on the first pass, circling it instead and sliding my tongue back down her slit. There I thrust into her hole as deeply as I could. Ruth rewarded me with a quick gasp and tilted her hips up. I began to slowly tongue-fuck her pussy, caressing the sensitive tissues around her opening, then thrusting deep inside. The sensations became too much and she fell back moaning, her hips thrusting. I extended my arms along her sides and took hold of her breasts, gently rolling her hardening nipples between my thumbs and forefingers. She gave a long sigh. I tongue-fucked Ruth for several minutes, pausing occasionally to suck gently on her labia, and her arousal built steadily. Finally I slid my tongue to the top of her slit where gave her clitoris three long, slow licks. The effect on Ruth was electrifying, at least judging by her deep, hoarse groans. Then I sat up. Her legs were spread limply, as wide as they could go, her pussy shining wet and open. "I think she's ready," I said to Denise, picking a pube off my tongue. Denise moved eagerly between our lover's legs and fitted the head of the dildo into her opening. She leaned forward and the fat head suddenly popped inside, prompting a sharp, "Oh!" from Ruth. The shaft gradually disappeared until it was fully inside Ruth's pussy and the pad covering Denise's pussy was pressed firmly against the larger woman's crotch. Ruth's eyes were open now, staring up at Denise's face inches above her. "God, baby, that's so BIG," she panted. Denise paid no attention, but began slowly withdrawing the dildo until it was halfway out. Then she slowly thrust forward again, her face a study in concentration. She was fucking Ruth, slowly penetrating her with the long, thick dildo, then slowly withdrawing halfway and repeating the process. The dildo slid easily on a generous coating of pussy juice. Ruth put her hands under her knees and pulled her widespread legs up to her chest, tilting her pussy to meet the invading phallus. "UUUUUuuuuuuuuunnnnnnNNNHHHHH," Ruth groaned at the next penetration, and Denise stopped momentarily. "Does this feel okay?" she asked, and Ruth quickly nodded her head, 'Yes,' while she stared longingly at Denise's tits, bobbing just out of reach above her. Denise began to speed her thrusts and I put my mouth against her ear. "Shift your weight forward to rub her clit more," I whispered, and she did, prompting another long moan from Ruth, "UuuuuuuuuuuunnnnNNNNNNHHHHHHH!" Denise was concentrating intently, looking down to where her hips met Ruth's, connected by the gleaming pink shaft. Her pleasure rising in steady waves, Ruth began encouraging her lover in a low, urgent whisper. "Yes ... sweetheart! Fuck me with that thing! Oh ... oh ... oh ... yessss, babyyyyyy! ... That feels so gooood! ... So deeeeep! ... So haaaard! Yes! Yes! YeeesssssSSS!!! Harder! HARDER! Denise had mastered the dildo strapped to her crotch and was fucking with ease now, ending each thrust with a small grunt. I watched her muscular buttocks flex each time she pushed her artificial dick into Ruth's waiting pussy. Sweat glistened on her back and made short wisps of black hair cling to her neck. She was breathing deep and steady, like a runner pacing herself in a race. After several minutes of this treatment, Ruth gradually fell silent. Her eyes screwed shut and her breathing changed to quick, shallow pants. She strained to hold her legs up and open, with her forearms hooked under her knees. Then she gave a long, high-pitched whimper and exploded, crying out wildly and thrusting herself up at Denise. "GAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHH!" Ruth shouted. "OH, FUUUUUUUUCCCCCCKKKKK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK ME! FUCK ME! FUCK MMEEEEEEEEEE!!!" Her head slammed back onto the bed, her back arched and her hips began thrusting urgently upward to meet Denise's descending shaft. "UNNNHH! UNNNHH! UNNNHH! UNNNNNNNNNNNNHHHHHH!!! she moaned. "Oh, SWEETHEART! Oh, SWEETIE! OH, YESSSSSSSSSS!!! I thought Ruth's orgasm would never end. She moaned and cursed and bucked and shuddered until Denise had to fall forward, hugging Ruth tightly to stay on top. Ruth's hands were all over Denise, now gripping her ass-cheeks, now raking her back. Denise gave up thrusting and just hung on, her rubber penis completely buried inside her lover. Finally Ruth was spent, motionless, lying still under Denise, but still breathing deep, harsh gulps of air. Denise raised head and looked at me with wonder. "That was AMAZING!" she exclaimed. "Doing that to her, I felt so SEXY and so POWERFUL at the same time! What a RUSH!" I leaned over to Denise for a long, lingering kiss, tasting sweat on her lips. "It's a kick," I said, "and you did a great job. You already know more about satisfying a woman than half the guys on the planet.Denise gazed thoughtfully down at Ruth's face, lying slack and serene a few inches below her own. "It's not exactly easy, but it's sure worth the effort," she mused. "I could feel her cumming with every ounce of her body." She laid her head on Ruth's shoulder, gently kissing and caressing her with a tender expression on her face. I slid one arm under Ruth's neck and the other across Denise's shoulders, hugging them to me. We rested like that for a long time (I may have dozed a little) until Ruth suddenly moved and giggled, "I never want to move again, but if I don't, I'm afraid my legs will start to cramp. If that happens, you guys will be carrying me to the emergency room to have this thing surgically removed!" We all laughed at that and Denise began slowly, gingerly to remove herself from Ruth's embrace -- and her pussy. The first few inches of dildo came out slowly, reluctantly, Ruth's coarse pubes and inner labia clinging wetly to the pink shaft. The last couple of inches popped out in a rush, leaving the mouth of Ruth's pussy gaping open for a second. Denise knelt there, stroking the dildo dangling between her legs, and Ruth reached down to rub her crotch. "My pussy is going to be as sore as my ass!" she declared, then she blushed. Denise looked at me with arched eyebrows. "I fucked Ruth's butt this afternoon," I admitted. "She was great!" "You guys really have covered a lot of ground," Denise laughed. "Here, help me with these straps." (End of Chapter 14)

Chapter 14 of 15

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/13652.txt

The Raven

Wife's Evening Out

"You want me to what?!" Tara screamed at the top of her lungs. "Please don't be angry, honey," her husband Bruce begged, "I could lose my job if you don't." "I can't believe you're asking me to do this! I'm your goddamn wife!!! I can't believe you're asking me to fuck your boss!!!" "Please, Tara!" Bruce begged, "I was supposed to find him a call girl and I did, but she backed out at the last second!" Tara was dumbfounded. She and Bruce had been married for ten years, ever since they graduated from college. He was only the second man she had ever had sex with and had never once in all those years thought about cheating on him. Not that she wouldn't have been able to, she was a very attractive young woman after all. Early thirties, trim athletic body, dark black hair, she ran every day to keep in shape, but cheating had never entered her mind. He had always filled all her needs, so there was never a reason. Bruce kept her well taken care of. He had gotten a job in the planning department of a fledgling construction firm when he graduated, and he rose quickly to the top of the office, eventually being put in charge of his division. Occasionally, when a new project was started, his superior, Jack Gonzolas, would come into town to make sure things were going to run smoothly. Tara had now learned that when these visits occurred, her loving husband would set him up with a woman for the evening, and apparently failure to do so could cost him his job. This wouldn't be the official reason, of course, but it would be the reality. "Please!!!" he begged again with even more vigor than before. "He knows who I am, Bruce! You've introduced me to him several times in the past at company functions. He'll know I'm not a call girl." "I know he does, honey. But, I've tried everyone I can think of and I've come up short." Tears welled up in Bruce's eyes, "I don't want to share you with anyone, baby, but we don't have much of a choice. We've got bills to pay, and losing this job would be devastating. We could end up on the street in a matter of months!" Tara began to cry as she entered her bedroom and slammed the door on her husband. How could he let something like this happen to them? She always had a deep fear of ending up on the streets. Her mother had gone through it when she was young and told her the horror stories of trying to find a place to sleep at night where they wouldn't freeze to death. She buried her head in the mattress on her bed. She hated her husband for what he was asking of her, but she hated the idea of living on the streets even more. She could hear him begging her from the other side of the door, and she decided she would just have to sacrifice her dignity for her life. "Okay," she answered as she opened the bedroom door, "I'll do this." "Thank you, honey." he responded in relief as well as a touch of revulsion, not in her response but in the fact that he had to ask her to do this, "Let's get you ready, and I'll take you over." Over the next several hours, they chose the outfit she would wear as well as dolled her up. The dress was a classy black satin number with a high slit up the left thigh. It was very form-fitting, and Bruce decided it would be best if she didn't wear any underwear underneath. When they were finished, Tara looked like a runway model, only with a touch more sexuality. "You look breathtaking, baby," Bruce said with a little excitement in his voice. "Are you getting turned on by this?" she questioned. "By you, hon, not by this." Bruce had to hold back. He knew she wasn't happy about this at all, but for some reason, the thought of another man pleasuring his wife was growing on him, and he could feel a throbbing in his crotch. "I just wish this was for me and not for him." "Do you think he'll be happy?" She said half sarcastically and half curious. "Are you kidding, baby! The second he sees you, his dick is gonna tear a hole in his pants!" Tara giggled, "That sexy, huh?" "Damn straight! I'd have to pay a grand to get him a girl as hot as you! No joke!" Tara giggled again. Bruce's words were turning her on a bit. She wanted to jump on him right there, but she knew she couldn't. This wasn't for her husband; it was for Mr. Gonzalas. They were both dead silent on the way to the hotel. Tara was terrified. What if she didn't please this man? She knew what her husband enjoyed, but since she had not been with very many men, she thought maybe this could turn out to be a total failure. Being homeless entered her mind again, and she steeled herself. She and her husband had watched many pornographic films over the years, and from what she had seen in them, she figured that with most men, it was just a matter of showing some interest. The more excited you seemed as the woman, the more they appeared to enjoy it, and although she was scared to death, she had to admit she was starting to get excited. She always thought of Mr. Gonzalas as an attractive man, so at least she wouldn't have to snuggle up to a troll. He kind of reminded her a bit of Antonio Banderas, dark smoldering eyes and hair, and very well built. He was also very charming, and up until this night, she couldn't really understand why his wife had left him a few years back. But even so, she never really considered him as a sexual partner, not even in fantasies. She could feel herself getting a bit flushed, but she chose to chalk it up to nerves. Bruce escorted her all the way to the lobby of the hotel, "Honey, I love you so much. Thank you again for doing this. I promise you, this will never ever happen again." "It's okay, baby," she responded, trying to hide her growing enthusiasm. She really didn't want him knowing she was getting turned on by this, since he never once, in the time they were together, expressed any interest in sharing her with another man. She didn't want his ego bruised in the least. He handed her a paper, "Here's the room number. He should be waiting. You can call me whenever you're finished, and I'll come and get you." "Okay," she answered. "Even if it isn't until tomorrow." "What?!!!" she exclaimed, "You mean this could take all night?!!!" "Yeah, honey," he said in a calming voice, "He's been known to spend a full twenty-four hours with the women we hire for him. Many of them come out asking me to keep them in mind if he ever needs their services again." "Really?" she responded, "What the hell does he do to them up there?" "You're just gonna have to find that out for yourself," Bruce answered as he gave her a quick peck on the cheek, "I know you don't really want to do this, but please, honey, don't worry about me and try and enjoy yourself. The time should pass easier that way." "I'll be okay," she said as she headed for the elevators, "Have a good night." Tara's mind was racing. What could this man be doing to these women that could take an entire day and have them crawling back for more? She noticed one of the men in the elevator sneaking glances at her exposed leg. That and the thought of being ravished by the man waiting for her upstairs started to get her wet. She could feel a small trickle of moisture caress her bare thigh. The doors to the elevator opened to her floor, and as she exited, she could feel the searing stares of all the men she left behind. She knew the satin of her dress was hugging every curve of her ass, and it was probably very apparent to them that she had nothing on underneath. Thoughts of each of them taking her in turn only served to fuel the excitement that had been growing in her since she left her home. She found the room she was looking for. It was a suite on the northern end of the building. She started to tingle as she knocked. This was it. If she was harboring any thoughts of backing out, it was too late now. Mr. Gonzalas answered the door. He was as handsome as she remembered, wearing a fitted Armani suit sans jacket and drinking a glass of scotch. A look of surprise crossed his face for a moment, followed by a broad welcoming smile. "Your Bruce's wife, aren't you? Did I miss something? Are we all going out to dinner?" he said as he set down his glass on a nearby counter, "Because to be honest, I've already eaten." "Actually, no, Mr. Gonzalas," Tara answered with a coy smile, "I'm your partner for the evening." "But you're Bruce's wife..." he stated again, "You do know what this entails, don't you?" Tara entered the room, closing the door behind her. She slinked over to him as sexy as she could. "Yes, Mr. Gonzalas, I know exactly what this entails.Other arrangements were made but they fell through. So I'm yours. "Your husband...?" "... Brought me over here. This was his idea and I'm OK with it." His hands rested on her shoulders and slid their way down her back. He ran them down the satin until they came to rest on her buttocks, where he proceeded to stroke and fondle them. "You're a very attractive woman and I must admit the thought of doing this with a married woman does excite me a great deal, but are you sure?" "I'm here to give you anything you want, Mr. Gonzalez." "OK then," He said as he raised his hands to the straps of her dress, flicking them off her shoulders and allowing the dress to fall to the floor. She stood there totally exposed in front of him as her heart raced and her body shivered, "... and call me Jack." "Only if you call me Tara." "Let's have some fun, Tara." He reached around her, supporting her bottom with his arm and lifting her off the floor. His hand came underneath and between her legs and found its mark, her awaiting clitoris. He played with it furiously and Tara found herself at a loss of breath from the sudden waves of pleasure that entered her body. She found herself involuntarily wrapping her legs around his hips and humping his hand. Jack buried his face into hers, giving her a long deep kiss. His tongue probed her mouth very skillfully. Her humping continued and for a brief moment she brushed his crotch. She was unsure because of how quickly it happened, but it seemed quite large. She hadn't even thought of this until now, but how large was Jack. Tara had never had a man over six and a half inches, which was Bruce's length. The only other penis she had ever had was her boyfriend in high school and he was only about five or so. Both were about average and were more than enough to fulfill her needs, but what if Jack was larger. Bruce was a tight fit and she had never even had fantasies about a man any larger. Jack carried her through a nearby doorway and into the bedroom, kicking the door closed behind him. He set her down on the bed and dropped between her legs. Kissing was not the only thing his mouth was adept at doing. His tongue worked her over, making her squirm and writhe on the bed. She kicked off her shoes and ran her bare feet down his back. He dug in deeper, determined to drive her over the edge. She moaned, the tingling felt great but she had never cum this way and was sure it was not going to happen now. She knew how to manipulate herself to orgasm but no one else had ever been able to do it to her without penetrating her. Jack bore down on her hips. His tongue had worked its way inside the inner edge of her pussy lips. Then it slithered up onto the underside of her clit and hit its mark. Tara found herself overcome by waves of pleasure. She let out a loud scream of shock and excitement. Her body shook and thrust down on Jack's head until it passed over her. Jack stood up by the side of the bed and began removing his shirt. "That was incredible!" Tara exclaimed as she let out a sigh of satisfaction. Here it had only been about ten minutes and this man had already been able to make her cum once already. She wondered if it was all him or if the fact that she was with a man other than her husband had her halfway there already. Jack had removed everything now with the exception of his pants. Tara inspected what she could see of his body so far and found it quite attractive. He was surprisingly well built for a man in his late forties. His arms had a nice cut to them and he had a strong, broad chest. Her eyes dropped to his washboard abs and she thought for a moment about how much sexier his body was compared to her husband. This thought brought on a bit of guilt which quickly passed as she noticed the lump in his pants. Her eyes widened a bit, it looked quite large and she was taken aback by a bit of fear and excitement. "Take off my pants, Tara," he commanded. The firm tone and the sly grin on his face told her she was in for a shock. He obviously liked to surprise his lovers with his size and tonight would be no different. She sat up on the bed and reached for his pants. Undoing the belt, she came to realize just how large the lump was. When the buckle was undone, the tension it created forced the pants to drop an inch or so. Tara was getting turned on again. "How big can this thing be?" she thought as she unzipped his fly. His pants dropped to the floor and his briefs looked as though they were going to tear from the tension underneath them. She looked up at him in a bit of surprise. "Take them down, Tara," he smiled. Tara giggled a little as she took hold of his waistband. She was breathing in short quick breaths and when she jerked them down, she shuddered and let out a deep sigh. "OH MY GOD, JACK! OH MY GOD..." was all she could say in exasperation. Jack's penis appeared to be about eleven inches in length and about as thick as a soda can. She found herself in shock, his fully erect member throbbed and bounced languidly in front of her. She was mesmerized. She had never in her life seen a dick this large and was almost afraid of it. "Was this going to hurt?" she thought "Or was this going to feel incredible?" "Lift it, sweetie," Jack ordered. Tara placed her hand on its underside and found herself once again amazed, this time by its weight and the fact that her fingers couldn't get all the way around it. She pumped it a bit and Jack let out a little moan. This excited her and she pumped a little faster. All she could think of was how great this giant dick felt as it passed through her palm. "Suck it," Jack moaned. Tara paused for a moment. Bruce was surprisingly not a big fan of blowjobs so she had not had a lot of practice at them and this monster was so large that there was no way it could go directly in her mouth, but she desperately wanted to satisfy him now and she found herself working her mouth up and down its shaft. She could swear it grew even more during this and she continued. She slid her tongue up and down its base while at the same time pumping it slowly with her hand. She wanted it deep in her mouth but found that she could only fit the head. Jack seemed quite satisfied with this and moaned even more in response. Then suddenly, to Tara's disappointment, he pulled away. He lifted her from the bed, spun her around and dropped her back down on her belly. He raised her at the hips, arching them up while her chest lay firmly against the sheet. Tara spread her legs and he dropped in behind her. She could feel the base of his cockhead as it slithered around across her opening and slowly her lips parted as he entered. Tara's worries about pain quickly passed, but it was very, very tight as he inched his way in. Deeper and deeper he continued to enter her and, hearing no objections, he continued even deeper. She couldn't believe what she was feeling, it felt like someone was mounting her on a flagpole and she half expected to feel his dick coming up through her throat. Then she felt his balls making slight contact with her clitoris. He had bottomed out in her. This huge cock had filled her right to the max. Then without warning, he pulled out almost to the head. She braced herself, knowing what was coming next. The thrust was firm as he re-entered her. She squealed in delight, it felt incredible as he once again pulled out and gave her another deep thrust. Her toes curled as he picked up the pace. "OH...MY...GOD!!!" she screamed. The feeling of tightness slowly dissipated as she became more wet and he stretched her out with each deep, pleasurable stroke. He continued this for several minutes at a furious pace and she found herself making more noise than she had ever made in her life, but she couldn't help herself, he was driving her mad with lust. She was beginning to see why all those call girls wanted to be brought back. How many times does a person get a chance to make that much money and enjoy themselves like this. Tara found herself thinking that if everyone who required the services of a call girl was this adept at fucking, she'd do it for free. Fuck her husband! Once again a wave of guilt crossed over her. She really did love Bruce, but Jack's dick was driving her thoughts in very unexpected directions. Jack pulled out once again and flipped her over, re-entering her from the missionary position. As he stroked deep into her once again, Tara approached orgasm. He could read it on her face - she was looking at him as though she had been blind and was suddenly thrilled to discover she could now see. She was also wearing a huge shit-eating grin as she repeatedly threw her head back in pleasure. "You've never had a cock this big before, have you, baby?" Jack asked as their foreheads touched and they looked deep into each other's eyes. "Oh Fuck!" she wailed as he thrusted once again, "No, Jack...Uh..Uh...Never!" "You like it, don't you?" "Oh God! Yes!" she squealed in response, "This is the best damn fuck I've ever had in my life!" He pulled her close to his bronze skin and lifted her from the bed. Tara wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he effortlessly raised and lowered her entire body on his awaiting shaft. "Tell me how much you love it, Tara," he said as a leer crossed his face. "OHHHH YES!!! OH GOD YES!!!" Tara screamed as she came, "I LOVE YOUR COCK, JACK! FUCK ME WITH YOUR HUGE COCK!" "You like big cocks, don't you, Tara?" He smiled. "I LOVE BIG COCKS!!!" "Good, baby, wait until later," he laughed, "If you think this is good, you'll love the rest." Tara heard him but it didn't register. Her orgasm was blocking out all rational thoughts. All she could think about was wanting this to never end. He turned around and dropped onto the bed. Now she was on top of him.Realizing this, she leaned forward and began bucking her hips up and down at a frantic pace. She was raising her ass higher and higher into the air with each hump, allowing for long, fast strokes. The sweat covered their bodies now, and they looked like two oiled-up wrestlers slipping and sliding on one another, their skin slapping together continuously. "DON'T EVER STOP FUCKING ME, JACK!" she wailed. "I WANT TO FEEL YOU INSIDE OF ME FOREVER!" Jack would have been more than happy to oblige, but he knew he wouldn't last much longer at this pace. Tara was fucking him like a wild animal, and he was close to his own orgasm. He thought to himself about how lucky a man Bruce was to have someone this enthusiastic. He grabbed her once again and threw her down on the bed. She was laying on her side as he reentered her. He ran his hands across her body as he drove himself deep within her slippery little hole. He fondled her breasts, which were beautiful little handfuls. The perfect size, he thought. Again, he fondled and kneaded her buttocks, the small of her back, her inner thighs. He loved the feel of a woman's skin when it was covered in perspiration, and the fondling appeared to be driving her over the edge once again. "YES!! YES!! YESSS!!!" Tara howled. She couldn't believe how incredible this felt. She pondered how she could possibly go back to only Bruce from here on out, especially since there were lovers like Jack Gonzalas out there in the world. She couldn't help herself; she now wanted to fuck them all. "Oh God!" Jack grunted, "I'm gonna cum! Where do you want it, baby?" Tara didn't respond; she threw him off and flipped him down, gripping his massive cock in her hand, pumping it furiously. She loved the feeling of power in having his manhood under her control. Jack let out a loud grunt as his hips bucked up and down under her. "Cum for me, baby!" she ordered. Jack couldn't hold it any longer. Sperm jetted upward from his prick nearly five feet as Tara continued to pump. She giggled as his hips continued to fuck her hand until the sensations subsided. Jack was spent; they had been going at this for nearly two hours now, and Tara looked like she couldn't wait to start again. "Oh, baby, fuck me some more," she whispered. "Sorry, honey. You wore me out. You have got to be the best fuck I've ever had on one of these trips," Jack said with a smile. "That's all?" Tara looked up at him in disappointment. "But Bruce told me you spend up to twenty-four hours with the other girls." "Bruce didn't tell you?" Jack asked in a very confused manner. "Tell me what?" "I always bring my son and friend along on these trips. We share the girls," he flashed her a sly grin. Part Two "WHAT?!!!" Tara was in shock. Her dirtball of a husband obviously knew there was no way she would do this with more than one guy, so he didn't tell her everything, hoping she wouldn't back out when she found out. "Your son and his friend?!!! Jack, I can't do this!" "You have to, Tara. All the girls do, and when you came in, you told me you'd do anything I want." He leaned in closer to her, "And I want this, Tara. My boy gets everything I want him to have, and I want him to have you." Tara was pissed. While she was fucking Jack, she was having fantasies about fucking even more men, but now she wasn't so sure she really wanted this. She didn't know what to do. If she backed out now, she knew he'd be angry, and her worst fears would probably happen. "Rueben!! Leo!!" Jack called out to the adjacent rooms in the suite. The door to the bedroom opened, and two naked young men entered. Tara grabbed the sheets and quickly covered herself. Jack climbed up from the bed and walked over to them, his big dick bouncing lewdly as he stepped. "This is my son, Rueben," Jack said as he gestured to a young, handsome, Hispanic male. He was slightly shorter than his father, but Tara noticed that he had a dick very similar to his dad's, maybe even a bit larger. She felt a twinge of excitement once again enter her body, but there was no way she was going to do this. "And this is his best friend, Leo." Jack was now gesturing to a young black male, very athletic in build and very dark. He grinned, flashing a set of the whitest teeth she had ever seen. Tara looked down at his crotch, and her eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets. This young man was sporting a penis that put the other two to shame. It was fully erect and stood, at least it seemed to her, to be about 14-inches in length and a little thicker than Jack's cock. It looked as though someone had merged this boy with a horse. "No!" she said, "I'm sorry, Jack. I can't do this!" "Boys," Jack grinned, "It appears you're going to have to loosen the lady up a bit." And with that, Jack exited the room, closing the door behind him. The young men approached the bed from two sides to cut off any chance of escape for Tara. She knew she was in trouble and curled up in a ball against the headboard as they yanked away her sheet. "Please! Please don't do this!" she begged, but to no avail. They grabbed her by the arms and legs, pinning her to the bed. Rueben dropped between her thighs and looked up at her with a big smile. "Come on, honey, we're not gonna hurt you," he said as he slid his hands under her hips and up her waist. "We want you to enjoy this as much as we're going to. With a body like yours, you deserve every bit of pleasure it can be given." Tara quivered as his tongue worked over her clit. She couldn't believe this was happening. What had she gotten herself into? All she could do now was pray Rueben would keep his word that this wouldn't hurt. The tingle she was beginning to feel between her legs proved he knew how to pleasure a woman with his mouth, and the way he was working his hands up and down her body was quickly doing a number on her senses. She started to squirm once again; this young man knew an awful lot about oral stimulation, and he was already driving her crazy. She was quickly losing interest in trying to escape, and then suddenly, without warning, the most intense orgasm she had ever felt washed over her. She found her body thrust up towards his mouth, driving him in deeper and making her scream. When it passed, he didn't stop. His tongue darted over her again and again until once again she climaxed. Again, he didn't stop; he just kept driving her over, again and again, until her eyes glazed over in a fog of sheer lust. She felt as though everything was moving in slow motion, and she didn't even move when Rueben and Leo traded positions. Leo had apparently learned his technique from the same source as her, too, and he continually drove Tara to orgasm after wet, slippery orgasm. They worked her over for what seemed like hours but in reality had been about 45 minutes, and when they had finished, Tara just lay there stretched out like a satisfied kitten. She had never felt anything so incredible, and all her mind could think about was the pleasure. "That was some tasty pussy," Leo exclaimed. "MMMM MMMMM, I could eat her out all night," Rueben responded, and deep in the back of Tara's mind, she wished he would. "Tara," Leo said as he leaned in on her sweaty body, "Tell us what you want, baby." Tara smiled as she purred and stretched herself out, "Fuck me," she whispered. "Louder, baby, I didn't quite hear you." She spread her legs wide and ran her bare feet back and forth across the sheets, "Fuck me, I want you to fuck me now." Leo climbed between her legs; she had no intentions of fighting anymore. They could bring in every man in the hotel now, and she would give herself up freely to every one of them. "Your wish is my command, my lady," he said as his giant black cock slipped up and down across the soft skin of her snatch. It made brief contact with her clit, and once again, she felt another twinge of pleasure. "God, Rueben, she is so wet!" He applied some pressure, and slowly, his cockhead was enveloped by the folds of her womanhood. He slid smoothly into her deep, well-lubricated body. He was definitely bigger than Jack, but she was stretched out enough now that she took him with only slight pain. Leo kept a steady, smooth rhythm as he pumped her. All Tara could do was smile; this was exactly what she pictured heaven would be like, nothing but endless pleasure. Leo's easy pace had sensations washing over her like the surf on a beach. With a quick jerk, he rolled her over on top of him; she just laid motionless across his strong body as he stroked long, steady strokes into her from underneath. She had been moaning now for several minutes and was so into it that when Rueben started priming her asshole, she didn't even object. It was clear to her what was going to happen next, and although she would never allow her husband access to this part of her body, she was now more than willing to allow this young man to have his way with it. All she wanted was sex, and she no longer cared what shape it took. "Oh God, is she tight!" Rueben stated as he slowly entered her ass with his massive prick. Tara could feel the pain and tightness, but the sensations she felt from below were more than enough to counter it. Rueben pushed deeper and deeper into her in very slow strokes; he really did not want to hurt her, and since she was giving him no indication of discomfort, he worked in deeper and deeper until he buried himself up to its hilt. Slowly, he worked it out again, and when he reached the halfway point, he plunged back in. He continued this over and over, speeding up a bit with each thrust. Tara found that the pain was now subsiding and giving way to even more pleasure. The friction against the soft tissues separating the two men was starting to drive her crazy once again. "OH YEAH, OH YEAH, OH YEAH," she chanted as they picked up the pace. She had never felt so full in all of her life. This little screw-up of her husband's was turning out to be one hell of a blessing for her.They pumped her even harder now, and she started to feel the waves of an orgasm fast approaching. "Does your husband fuck you this good, baby?" Leo asked as he nibbled on her ear. "N-N-No, never!" she managed to work through her lips. "What would he do if he knew how much you were enjoying this?" Rueben chuckled. "I don't know," Tara smiled as he kissed the back of her neck. "Let's find out," Rueben laughed, and Tara could now hear the sound of a cellular phone being dialed. "WHAT?! NO... OH... GOD!" Her objection was quickly drowned out by the orgasm that had suddenly rocked her body. She squealed over and over again as the pleasure refused to subside. "Hello?" Bruce answered the phone on the second ring, figuring Tara may be finished and needed him to come and pick her up. "Hi there. Is this Bruce? Tara's husband?" The voice on the other end asked. Bruce could hear the sounds of sex on the other end and found himself curiously excited. "Yeah," he responded. "Hi. I'm Rueben Gonzalas, Jack's son. We met last year when you brought that woman over for us. Remember?" Bruce could swear he was hearing his wife in the background making the loudest sex noises he had ever heard her make. "Yeah, I remember you, Rueben. What's up?" "Well, I just wanted to thank you for the one you set us up with this year. My dad's all through with her, and my friend Leo and I are doing her right now." "Right now?" Bruce asked, surprised by what he was hearing but incredibly turned on as well. "Yeah, right this very minute. She's taking us both. Leo's in her pussy, and I'm riding her ass hard. She's loving it! Let me tell you, man, you are one lucky guy to have a wife this fucking hot." "You mean you're in her ass?!" Bruce was floored. Tara would never let him in her ass, but this guy had her going crazy over it. "Yeah, man, it's great!" Bruce sat down in the recliner in the living room. His dick shot to full attention in hearing this, and he quickly worked it out of his pants. "Do you want to talk to her?" Rueben asked. Bruce began jerking himself off, "Yeah, yeah, put her on." Rueben leaned over Tara, holding the phone in front of her face, "Your husband would like to talk to you." "OH GOD!" she squealed as she was still coming down off her last orgasm. She steeled herself and grabbed the phone from his hand. "Hello...Bruce?" "Yeah, baby, it's me." "Why didn't you tell me I would have to have sex...Uh.. Oh God, yes...with Mr. Gonzalas's son and his son's...HU...HU...HU...best friend?" "I'm sorry about that, baby. Last year was the first time it happened, and I didn't know it would happen again this year. I should have told you. Are you ok?" "YE..YEE...YEEESSS, I'm.. OH GOD! I'm fine, baby." "They really are fucking you right now, aren't they?" "Uh...Uh...YESSSS...Yes, they are, OH GOD!" she stammered, "I'm sorry, baby...Uh... hhh... hhhh... they called without MY...MY..permission." "It's OK, baby," Bruce answered, "Are you having fun?" Tara didn't answer. She didn't want to hurt him by telling him how much she was enjoying this. "Honey, it's ok. You can answer. This is actually kinda turning me on," he stated. "R...R...Really?" "Yes, really, baby. As a matter of fact, guess what I'm doing right this second." "Really?" "Yeah, baby. Tell me what they're doing to you right this second." "Oh G..G.. God, Baby...They're in me. They're both in me! Oh God, it feels so good!" "You like it, don't you, Tara?" Bruce said as he jacked off even faster. "YEESSSS! OHHHH GOD, BAAABEEEE! I LOVE IT!" "Are they big, baby?" "OH GOD, YESS!" "How big?" "Twice as big as you, baby, and three times as thick!" Rueben and Leo picked up the pace, determined to make her cum again while she was talking to her husband. "OOOOHHH YEEAH!!!! BABEEE!!! THEY'RE FUCKING ME FASTER!!!!" "Oh God, honey, you're getting me so fucking hot! Fuck those monster cocks...FUCK 'EM HARD!" Tara did as she was told and started to meet the two men's thrusts. She could feel another orgasm building inside, and she could hardly speak. "Tell me, baby. Is this the best fuck you've ever had?" Bruce didn't care what the response would be; he was so turned on by this. "OHHHH GOD, BABEEE!!! YEESSSSS!!!! YESSSSS!!!! YESSSSSS!!!! IT'S THE BEST FUCK I'VE EVER HAD!!!! IT FEELS SO FUCKING GOOOD!!!!!" This sent Bruce over the edge, knowing his wife was just across town being fucked better than she had ever been fucked in her life caused his cock to spasm and erupt. "Oh GOD!!! TARA, I'M CUMMING!!!" The sound of this sent Tara reeling. Her orgasm hit her like a ton of bricks, "FUUUUUCKKK, BABBBBEEEE!!!! I'M CUMMING TOOOOO!!!!! YESSSS!!!! YESSSSS!!!! YESSSSSS!!!! YESSSSSS!!!!!" Bruce was flustered; he couldn't believe how hot this was, and he now hoped one day he could watch her fuck another man. But for now, he decided to let her have her fun. "Tara, baby. I'm gonna let you have your fun, ok. Call me when you're done, and I'll pick you up." "OK, baby, thank you." Tara shut off the phone, "FUCK ME, YOU ANIMALS!!!" She screamed, "MAKE ME CUM AGAIN!!!" Bruce came for his wife the next afternoon. He was amused by the look of satisfaction that was now plastered across her face and even let out a bit of a chuckle when he noticed she was walking a little funny. "So, baby," He smiled, "How was your evening?" She couldn't find the strength to hide the smile on her face, "I oughta kill you, you little bastard!" She giggled, "But if I did, my pussy would never speak to me again." "So she liked it, did she?" "She's a happy little pussy." Tara grinned, "A bit sore now, but she is definitely happy." Tara spent the next several hours telling Bruce about her wild night. After the phone call, Rueben and Leo continued their rigorous fuckfest until about dawn when they ordered in some room service. It was then that they invited the guy who brought their food to have his way with her. He agreed to a quickie and spent the next twenty minutes working her over. When he left, Mr. Gonzalas came back, and he and the boys spent several more hours gangbanging her. She hadn't had so much fun in her entire life. Bruce was enthralled. "I'm glad to hear that, honey," he said as he lay there next to her on their bed, "because after your little snatch has had enough time to recover, I was thinking, one of my friends at work had told me recently about this all-male dance club on the other side of town that, for the right amount of money, will gangbang anyone who's interested. Of course, this time, I want to watch!" Tara looked at him in total shock for a moment, and then slowly a mischievous grin grew across her face.

Part One

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/15981.txt

Stephanie

It's Hard to be a Man

"When were you thinking of telling me?" Patrick finished swallowing the headache tablets and looked up at Hank. "Well, things have moved really fast, and I didn't want to tell you until things were set in stone." "Bullshit," Hank replied forcefully, "I heard you gave your notice this morning." "Yeah, and I talked them into giving you my job." "Why aren't you taking me with you to your new company then?" Patrick felt for Hank. His friend looked genuinely offended. "Hank, you know how it'll be. I won't be able to pay you anything like what you're getting paid now, let alone what you'll get doing my job." Hank thought for a moment. "No, there's far more to this than just my bank account, and I think I know what it is." "You and Rebecca?" Patrick asked innocently. "No, it has nothing to do with your little affair." "You knew?" Hank asked. "I found out afterwards. I'll admit, I was a little angry when I found out, but Becky pointed out she can look after herself. There's more to her than meets the eye, you know." Hank was puzzled by that - he'd found her to be a fairly shallow bimbo - but he was not about to mention that to his friend. "Yeah. So why aren't you taking me to your new business?" "It's because of our friendship that I'm not. Even if my company does well, it'll be years until you have enough work to stretch your abilities, and there will be zero promotion prospects. That's why our friendship will be better with you here in my chair." Hank finally accepted that Patrick wasn't mad at him and returned to work. Patrick tried to concentrate on her work, but she found herself thinking about the changes that had occurred in such a short time. The love she felt for Ian had quickly blossomed into something wonderful. In comparison, all the other relationships she had had over the years seemed very empty. Patrick felt that she hadn't so much as changed as grown. She had been like a kid who hadn't grown up, simply reveling in physical sensations and not interested in a long-term relationship. With Ian, she had finally matured, and she felt for the first time she was making love with someone rather than simply getting sexual relief. It was true that she no longer saw what Amanda had inadvertently done to her as a curse. How had Ian put it? He had said that she was no longer merely a man or merely a woman, but the best of both. Patrick was still musing over her new view of the world when she got back to her apartment that evening. She and Ian had left separately. Patrick knew how hard it was to hide office romances, but it seemed that no one had noticed any strange looks between her and Ian; probably because the whole idea would have seemed too ridiculous to them. She let her body slip back into its female form and then stretched. The sooner she could stop having to keep her body male for up to five hours at a time, the better. She stripped out of her ill-fitting clothes and headed for the shower. She took her time, luxuriating as the hot jets of water unknotted her muscles. She felt another arm snake around her waist, and she turned to see Ian climbing in with her. "I was beginning to wonder where you had got to," she told him. "Never mind," he replied, "I'm here now." After they took turns washing each other, they dried themselves off and headed to the bedroom. It wasn't long before they were kissing and cuddling on the bed. Patrick could quite easily see how aroused Ian was, but he seemed strangely reticent. "What's the matter?" she asked. "Well, you know I asked to see you as a man?" "Yes." "Can you do it now?" Patrick sighed. She really didn't want to do it, but she knew how necessary it was. Even if she thought of herself as female, she was still going to spend a portion of her future life as a man. "Perhaps we should do this a bit at a time." "Okay," Ian replied. "What did you have in mind?" Almost immediately, he felt something touch his belly. He thought for a moment that Patrick had rested one of her hands there, but they were both in plain sight. Then he realized what it was. Patrick rolled onto her back, and they both looked down at her penis standing proudly upwards. Ian felt his mouth go dry as he drank in the image before him. This new half-female/half-male creature was just as sexy as the fully female Patrick, but in a different way. Patrick picked up Ian's hand and guided it down to her erect member. At first, Ian just let his hand rest there as he didn't know quite what to do. From the first time he had seen Patrick change, he had slowly become aware of his own true desires. It wasn't simply that Patrick's female form was very attractive. What added a whole new dimension was the knowledge that inside that sexy, ultra-feminine body was the soul of a man. Slowly, Ian clasped his hand around Patrick's hard member and then looked up at her face. Carefully at first, he began to stroke his hand up and down. Patrick gave a small gasp of anticipation. Her hands reached down to Ian's lap to hold his penis. Together they slowly caressed each other. Ian was starting to savor the feeling of holding the penis of another... man? Patrick couldn't be called merely a man or a woman, but somehow a merger of both. A beautiful, unique being. An idea presented itself in Ian's head. He couldn't do that, could he? Why not, he thought to himself. He let go of his lover's penis and started to turn around on the bed. Patrick watched him with a huge smile on her face. "Are you sure you want to go that far the first time?" she asked. "Maybe not, but there's no point holding back now, is there?" Ian straddled Patrick and looked down at her crotch. He held the base of her penis, closed his eyes, and slowly lowered his head towards it. A hot, hard lump pressed into his cheek. He closed his mouth on it. A part of him couldn't believe he was doing this, but it was making him incredibly excited. Hands grabbed his own penis, and he slowly lowered his hips. Then he felt Patrick's tongue running over the head of his cock. Ian moaned around his lover's penis. Patrick was relatively new to sucking cock, but she had been a quick learner. Ian didn't want to disappoint Patrick, so he tried to copy what she was doing. He licked Patrick's penis until it was slick with his own saliva and then sucked it deep into his mouth. Patrick gripped Ian's ass and dug her fingernails in. Ian could feel himself quickly rising towards orgasm. He gently squeezed Patrick's balls with his free hand, and he felt her tense under him. Without warning, Patrick flipped Ian over onto his back so that she was on top. She started to slowly stroke in and out of Ian's mouth while her own head bobbed up and down on his cock. Now she controlled the pace, and all Ian could do was take what was given. Patrick's balls were slapping against his nose as she rode him towards her orgasm. Her expert tongue quickly succeeded in pushing him to the brink of orgasm, and, with a muffled cry, he flooded her mouth. Patrick wasn't far behind, and soon she too felt the almost-forgotten power of a male orgasm. Ian almost choked on the cum and swallowed most of it by reflex. Patrick rolled off him, and then turned around so they could cuddle. They didn't say anything as they lay in each other's arms. There was nothing that needed to be said. Each knew they had found the missing part of themselves. Abigail sniffed loudly. Amanda rolled her eyes and fished out a tissue for her. "I'm sorry," Abigail said as she dabbed her eyes, "weddings always do this to me." Amanda didn't like to show it, but the occasion had got to her as well. She had never thought she would ever be in a church for Patrick's wedding, let alone with her former lover as the bride! But she had to admit that Ian and Patrick really went together well.Patrick had helped Ian become more assertive, and he had brought out the deeper emotions in her. Amanda looked around the church. Ian was up at the altar waiting for Patrick to arrive. His bride was being traditionally late, but Amanda had no doubts that she would arrive. Patrick always saw things through to the end. The previous evening had been a bit weird for Amanda. Together with Patrick and a few female friends, they had hit the town, celebrating Patrick's last night of freedom. If only Patrick had been like that in temperament when they had been going out, but it had taken the curse and Ian to mature her to this point. Elsewhere in the city, Ian had been going through the same old ritual, though Amanda had made Hank promise that he got Ian to the church in time and able to stand up. Hank had managed the role of Best Man quite well so far, though he had been quite confused by Patrick's point-blank refusal to go to 'Rebecca's' wedding. Amanda realized that eventually he would have to be told the truth about Patrick/Rebecca, but it was probably wise to wait a few years. Amanda doubted Hank could handle the news that he had slept with his old boss at the moment. The familiar wedding march suddenly struck up on the organ, and Amanda, with the rest of the church, turned to see Patrick make her entrance. Amanda had already seen the dress before, but even so, she was entranced by the figure standing there. It was a traditional full-length, white, wedding gown. Amanda had made several comments to Patrick about the honesty of wearing white, but her jibes had been ignored. As Patrick passed Amanda and Abigail, she gave them a little smile from behind her veil before heading up to the altar. Amanda's feeble attempts at cynicism quickly faded, and she found herself getting as wrapped up in the ceremony as Abigail was. Patrick herself was struck by the unreality of the whole event. Throughout her former life, she had never thought of herself as the marrying type. Now, there she was, marrying a man! She managed to get through her vows with only two stumbles. Ian had been very surprised when she had left the passage 'to honor and obey' in her vows; until that is, she said he should make the same vow. Ian's proposal had come totally out of the blue, but Patrick had quickly grown to like the idea. The only problem was 'Rebecca's' legal non-existence. Some less-than-legal dealings with a friend of a friend in the legal profession had finally given his female self some form of a legal identity. Good enough to get married anyway. "I pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride." Patrick and Ian turned to face each other. Patrick let Ian lift the veil, and then they kissed. She savored the moment, the feel of the dress holding her feminine body, her husband's arm around her, and the wonderful taste of his lips. She knew she would remember that moment for the rest of her life. It wasn't until much later at the reception that Amanda and Abigail were able to get a moment alone with Patrick. "I must admit," Amanda said, "I still think you're mad." "Perhaps, but I'm happy," Patrick replied. "That's the most important thing," Abigail agreed. Patrick smiled, and then turned to face the hall. "Time to throw the bouquet!" She declared. Abigail whooped and quickly rushed over to line up with the other women, but Amanda hung back. "You not joining in then?" She turned to see Hank walking over to her. "No, it's all a bit childish really." "Don't be silly," he said, grabbing her arm and walking her over to the waiting women. Amanda rolled her eyes and decided to go along with it. "Here it comes!" shouted Patrick and lobbed the bouquet over her shoulder towards them. Hank had no time to get out of the way before half a dozen women crashed him to the floor. "Ladies, please," he begged as the crowd laughed, "one at a time!" "Who got it?" Patrick asked as the women picked themselves off the floor. "Hank did," Amanda announced with a big smile. Hank looked down to see the bouquet stuffed into his suit. He gave a sharp look at Amanda, who did her best to look innocent. "Congratulations," Ian said as he helped Hank up from the floor. All too soon, it was time to see the bride and groom off on their honeymoon. A magnificent horse and carriage waited to take them away. Amanda showered them with confetti and then waved until they were out of sight. "There goes one lucky man," Hank commented. He was already slightly drunk, and it was still fairly early. "So you wish you were the one getting married today then?" Amanda asked. "Well, you know... if I met the right girl," he replied. "That girl doesn't exist, and you know it." "Maybe she's closer than you think..." "Yeah, right," Amanda replied with a laugh. As the reception wound down, Amanda and Hank talked. Amanda liked Hank for all his faults. He did have an attractive body and a witty personality. Unfortunately, he was exactly the way Patrick used to be; he didn't want to settle down with any one person, and she could trust him with women about as far as she could throw him. Quite frankly, she had had enough of that from Patrick. Finally, Amanda checked her watch and was surprised at how late it was. "I've got to be going, Hank." She got up and wobbled slightly from the drink. What the hell had gone into that punch bowl anyway? Hank staggered to his feet, clearly even worse for wear than she was. "Don't go yet. I know this great out-of-the-way place." "I'm sure you do. Goodnight, Hank." "Hold up," Hank reached for her, tripped over a chair leg, and crashed into her. He grabbed hold to stop himself from falling over. It only dawned on him slowly that he had grabbed hold of something round and soft. He removed his hand from her chest and started to apologize. Before he got very far, Amanda slapped him. "You're worse than Patrick ever was! I wish you understood how a woman wants to be treated! Then maybe you'd keep your hands to yourself!" A strange look came over Hank's face. His hands flew to his crotch, as if looking for something he had lost. Belatedly, Amanda realized Hank had lost his balance rather than had tried to sexually harass her. She remembered the wish she had made and the way Hank was pressing his hands to his crotch with a horrified look on his face. "Oops," she said. THE END

Part Fourteen

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/17622.txt

Andrew Roller

FUCK DECENCY 373 Passions Playpen

"There. You are quite captive now, my dear," Bess said. She drew Kate's hands apart so that the short chain between them became taut. Bess yanked on Kate's hands to ensure they were properly locked. The chain did not give, the cuffs did not spring apart or even hint that they wished to. Kate already wore earrings, new ones Bess had pinned on her at the vanity table. Bess tugged on Kate's earrings. They dangled down almost to Kate's shoulders and they felt heavy. Kate hoped her lover treated her well. The earrings made her feel delicate, as if she might lose her earlobes if they were pulled on too hard. Bess batted at them, watching as they brushed across the tops of Kate's shoulders. They were ruby, matching the color of her nipples, with silver to match her chains. "Wait. Let me get you something for good luck," Bess said. She rose and she bustled from the room. Kate stood, hardly able to move, she felt so weighed down by the chains, though they were light. She looked at herself in the bathroom mirror and saw a girl with radiant blonde hair and red lips and big, wide blue eyes staring back at her.For instance, if she says to you, "Bart the Fart, He likes to Fart," (and your name is Bart), what she's actually saying is: "I find you extremely attractive and I'd like to get to know you better." (page 13). This book ends with Marriage. In between, there are lots of fun illustrations and many insights drawn from psychology that explain both yourself, females, and even your mother. I was pleased that this book wasn't hostile to males who might like girls who are younger than themselves. They don't just take a 'cookie-cutter' approach to male/female relationships, assuming, say, that all 30-year-old guys could only ever be interested in mature, grown women who are approximately 30-years-old. Some guys who are 30 might get along better with girls who are 14. Some guys who are 30 might still be trying to figure out what a kindergarten girl is doing when she points out that his first name rhymes with "fart." The authors of this book also delve into all aspects of sexuality. They report that lesbianism is common among college-age females, almost a 'rite of passage.' They say that bondage is quite common, writing: "If you can find us a co-ed who doesn't own a pair of handcuffs, we'll give you a shiny new nickel." (page 117) The authors' writing is superb. There are lots of great lines in this book. For instance, the authors summarize the Story of O as follows: "Girl finds purpose in life through being submissive at an exclusive S/M club." (page 137) In their descriptions of various females that a male might want, the authors write of a sought-after girl who "knows how to take a good spanking." (page 10) On Catholic School Girls, the authors write: "The combination of their forbidden status and those sexy plaid-skirt uniforms is enough to give any man with a pulse an erection from forty yards." (page 32) On various types of males, the authors write of the man who has "a harem of female companions who need either Daddy or Brother." But, the authors warn, "Don't play Daddy unless you're ready to give a good spanking." (page 107) Finally, interviewing men about marriage, the authors come upon an old man with this insight: "I've never been married, and I'll tell you why. I don't like old women. Their boobs sag, their butts get bigger, their entire body goes straight to hell. I say no thank you to that. Who needs it? ...It makes me sick just thinking about it." (page 209) Of course, according to the conventional media, which you can wallow in every day of the week on your T.V., "grown" men are only interested in powerful, career-oriented women, who are at least as old as themselves. This book helps shatter that myth. In the section describing various sought-after female types, there is only ONE who fits the type advocated by the media. Others include: "A slacker girl who sleeps till noon and quits her job at Starbucks." "A... homemaker." "[A] multiply-pierced, part-time exotic dancer who steals money from [your] wallet." and "A wide-eyed girl who's looking for Daddy." Also, in addition to the girl who's looking for daddy, there's a different girl who is "obedient... cowers in [your] presence, and knows how to take a good spanking." (pages 9 and 10) As a result of this book, I have learned many new things about girls that I didn't know. (Even girls in kindergarten!) I have also realized that the media is selling me ONE type of female, even though there are actually many types of females in this world. I am told by the media that I MUST have a powerful, career-oriented woman, who is the same age as me. At the same time, the media tries to turn all the females in this world into career-oriented feminists. Worse, various laws have been passed, further restricting my choices in life. This book has helped to open my eyes. I now see what a fucked-up society I am living in. I am surrounded every day by laws, rules, regulations, and media propaganda. All of it is designed to make me desire to have sex and relationships with powerful, career-oriented feminists. It's funny, though: the more I am told what I MUST like, the less I like it. I'd rather have a slacker girl any day, who sleeps till noon and works at Starbucks. And I'd love to know she's looking for Daddy. And if she can take a good spanking, all the better! Even if you've never gone on a date, you'll find "A Guy's Guide to Dating" to be a good resource. It will help you understand what you want in life, and why you want it. Hopefully, armed with the knowledge in this book, you'll never find yourself in bed with a powerful, career-oriented woman who's the same age as you are. (Unless, that is, you truly want a woman like that in your life, which probably means you had a "Show Mom" mommy type and are "Boy X". Return to the Chateau, by Pauline Reage, $10.00. Paperback, 187 pages. Published by Ballantine. ISBN: 0-345-39465-8. Review: This book is subtitled, "Story of O, Part II." It is by the same author who wrote the highly-acclaimed novel "Story of O," which was also made into a movie in the 1970's, then re-made into another movie again later on (the latter film receiving much less widespread distribution). O is obviously a combination of the female types listed above, in the book "A Guy's Guide to Dating." She often, as a slave girl, sleeps till noon, like the "slacker" type of girl. Also, she's definitely looking for Daddy. And she can take a good spanking. Unfortunately, having already progressed from girlhood to womanhood in Story of O, this book lacks the fundamental quality of naivete which made O so appealing in the original book. The author herself seems not to know quite what to do with O. What more can be done with a girl who's already been fucked fore and aft, whipped, pierced, and branded? (I mean, a man can only do so much for a girl before his services are needed elsewhere!) Like the husband struggling to find his pregnant wife sexually interesting, Pauline Reage struggles to find new ways to make O appealing. Ultimately, she fails, and this book resorts to double-spaced type and frequent chapter-breaks (leaving lots of blank pages inbetween) to make this book hefty enough to appear to warrant a $10.00 investment. Nonetheless, Reage's ability to 'turn a phrase' is still present, and her best lines are some of the finest in erotic fiction. Return to the Chateau begins with O and a young girl, named Natalie. The girl is described unflinchingly by Reage as "the child." She is going to be taken to Roissy, along with O, where both girls will be slaves. Of Natalie the author writes: "[Her] happiness was equalled only by her impatience, and there was, in that happiness, a fair measure of the naivete and confidence that children display when they have been promised something by adults." (page 30) Unfortunately, Natalie's mother cuts short her visit with O, and little Natalie never gets to go to Roissy. In compensation, O deflowers Natalie, and then Natalie is fucked by O's master, Sir Stephen. Why does Natalie disappear from the book? My hunch is that Reage wanted to focus on O, alone, being taken back to Roissy. The journey of O, travelling all by herself, except for the male escorting her, was too juicy a topic to be spoiled by the presence of Natalie. However, once O arrives at Roissy, Reage quickly finds she needs little Natalie in the picture for the story to continue. (After all, O has already suffered in every way possible in the original Story of O.) Natalie is recreated in the guise of a character named Noelle. The new girl is described by Reage as follows: "O watched Noelle, who was seated opposite her, laughing. She was laughing because the black horse-hair of the chair on which she was sitting tickled her." (page 94) (O and Noelle are wearing dresses that open in back, leaving their bottoms bare.) If I had been writing this book, I would have found a way to get Natalie back into the story, after O had travelled by herself to Roissy. It is not uncommon, though, for a sex story author to invent a character, only to discard it along the way and then forget to bring the character back into the story when it is needed again. Instead, a new character appears, even though it's really the same old character. (I've even found Shakespeare reinventing a character, after the character had been killed off earlier. Hence, of his play Hamlet, I once wrote a term paper titled: "Polonius lives!") The first half of Return to the Chateau is excellent. Then it gets less and less interesting, as O is subjected, without much erotic effect, to a series of sexual acts. Reage is at her best as she is writing of O's anticipation, of her travelling to Roissy, and of her first days there. Once the "action" starts, the book descends into poorly-crafted, hack pornography. Perhaps someday Reage will write a new story, featuring an all-new character: the Story of P. AND IN THE END... WHAT IS A CRIME? "She was convicted of the crime of being a common scold. ...We'd all be in deep trouble if that were a crime today." - Reporter Cokie Roberts, (Charlie Rose, May 18, 1998.)net/~eli/erotica/assm/ When visiting Barnes and Noble, ask for: Jock Sturges' Radiant Identities and David Hamilton's The Age of Innocence. Support art! Also by David Hamilton: A Place in the Sun, and Twenty-Five Years of an Artist. Need a book? http://www.amazon.com Join the world's greatest organization! Send $35.00 to The North American Man/Boy Love Association for a one-year membership. NAMBLA, 537 Jones St. #8418, San Francisco, CA 94102. Phone: 1-212-807-8578; Web: http://www.nambla.org Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is copyright 1998 and a trademark of Andrew Roller. Official Newsletter, Temple of Pan END OF 373 EMISSION

Chapter Three

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11656.txt

Scamp(UK)

AJ's Revenge (A short story)

"I did it! I really did it!" Mel was so pleased that she had plucked up the courage to flash her firm juicy tits live on air. The viewers had been asking to see them since the series began. AJ sat in the corner of the hospitality suite clutching a can of beer; he couldn't take his eyes off Caesar, just how was he going to get his revenge on the little twat? Caesar sat at the bar, still wearing his soccer referee's outfit he had worn during the show. Having downed a few drinks, he was just a little tipsy. "Hey AJ!" Caesar bellowed across the room "How's my little dick tonight!" AJ forced a smile, "Cunt!" he muttered under his breath. Steve Perry, better known as Ben Dover to his fans, was sitting at the far end of the bar sipping a glass of wine. Mel, who had drunk far too much by now, was stripped to her bra and panties. She had her arm around Steve and was demanding he give her tits a squeeze. "What's the matter? My tits not good enough for the great Ben Dover!" Steve smiled, "I think they're lovely" but what about Caesar? "He won't mind, he's too pissed." The only other person in the room was the cute busty blonde stripper that had taken part in the game show. Every time a viewer picked the right card, she took something off. She was sitting on the floor staring at a bottle of beer, she couldn't make up her mind to drink it or fuck it. AJ sat watching the scene in front of him, when his eye spotted a large roll of brown sticky tape. The thick stuff that you seal parcels with. Why not, he thought. He picked up the roll and casually walked over to where Caesar was sitting at the bar. "Ooooh look it's AJ! Or is that A dick; heheheheeeee!" AJ gave the end of the tape to Caesar who just sat there with a puzzled look on his face. AJ quickly began wrapping the tape around Caesar, sticking both arms to his sides, before long Caesar's arms and upper body were cocooned in brown tape, Caesar just sat there giggling. "Look Mel, look. I'm a turd!" "To fucking right!" agreed AJ. AJ pulled out his pocket camera and pulled down Caesar's shorts and pants. Caesar looked shocked and confused. "W, What's going on!" "A little something for the website" AJ raised his camera "a very little something by the look of it!" Before he could take a picture, Mel started hugging him. "Me, me, me, take a picture of me, please AJ." AJ looked at Mel, somehow she had lost her bra, Steve Perry was smiling to himself. Her firm tits bounced in front of AJ's face. Her nipples stood out hard and erect, she was gorgeous. A mental image flashed through AJ's mind, he was cumming in Mel's sexy mouth, right on he thought. "Anyway" Mel started rubbing AJ's crotch "You won't find his dick, it's almost impossible to find when he's hard." AJ pulled Mel towards him and kissed her, her mouth opened and swallowed AJ's tongue. One of AJ's hands squeezed Mel's right tit. she cooed in pleasure, Mel reached down and unzipped AJ, releasing his 8-inch hard on. AJ let his free hand slip down to Mel's pussy, god she was wet! To AJ's surprise another pair of hands joined his, he looked down to see the blonde stripper completely naked kneeling behind Mel, pulling Mel's panties down. Mel gave out a long loud groan as the blonde parted her ass cheeks and thrust her tongue into her sweet asshole. AJ placed his prick at the entrance to Mel's pussy and sank deep inside her. Mel was so turned on, standing in front of Caesar, sandwiched, both her holes being excited. Caesar looked on horrified. "No Mel don't do it please!" Mel groaned with pleasure. "At least try to look as if you're not enjoying it!" Caesar shouted "Nooooooo Mel!" Steve pulled a table over to the three sexpots; Mel was laid on her back as AJ pumped into her pussy with a squelch. The stripper crouched over Mel and lowered her smooth pussy onto her face. As Mel drank the blonde's pussy juice, she looked up just in time to see Steve's enormous prick penetrate the blonde's ass. As Steve ravaged the stripper's ass, he looked at AJ, winked and nodded towards the bar. AJ smiled, Steve had set up his video camera and was recording the whole show. Mel's body convulsed as she came, a muffled cry came from her full mouth. Steve pulled the blonde off Mel, he knew AJ was about to cum. AJ pushed his prick into Mel's open mouth, as she began to suck he felt his shaft begin to throb, he released a full load into Mel's willing mouth. He watched as she swallowed every drop, and started to lick her pussy juice off AJ's cock. "Bitch!" screamed Caesar "You never let me do that!" Steve let out a groan as he shot his cum all over the blonde's ample chest. He was about to rub his cum into her smooth skin, when AJ suggested Mel should lick it off. Mel's eager mouth went to work, slurping up the white sticky globs on the blonde's tits. Mel used her tongue to make sure they were clean, paying special attention to her hard nipples. Steve then lay on the table, prick pointing skywards; Mel didn't need a written invitation. She mounted Steve and lowered herself onto his prick. Mel gasped as her pussy stretched around Steve's prick. Her eyes bulged in surprise as AJ entered her ass. "Ooooooh! Fuck me you bastards! Fucking split me!" AJ and Steve were happy to oblige. "Nnnnnnnnghgh! I'm cumming!" AJ and Steve pumped harder. "Mmmmmmmmghg!" Mel's whole body shook as she came, this triggered AJ and Steve, both men filled her belly with their cum. All three formed a sweaty heap on the table. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHGH!" They looked at Caesar, shocked at what they saw. The young blonde, tired of being left out, had pushed Caesar to the floor; he was on his knees. She had her left hand between Caesar's legs and was wanking his prick. Her right hand was fucking Caesar's ass with a beer bottle. AJ and Steve looked at each other, "Shit!" Steve leapt off the table; a look of relief crossed Caesar's face. It soon turned to horror as Steve grabbed his camera and started filming. Within minutes Caesar shot his load onto the floor, Steve's final shot as the video faded out was of a semi-conscious Caesar laying in his own cum with a bottle sticking out of his ass. The caption read "The best dildo in the world; probably!" Two days later the video grabs and the AVIs appeared on AJ's website. Mel was given her own show and Caesar; well he became famous for his beer commercials. Revenge complete? YESsss!

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/12396.txt

Andrew Roller

Dungeon of Desire

"If you do pee in my bed, I'm sending you straight back to Sauron," Miriam warned me. She wore a simple summer dress, and her hair was caught up loosely in a chignon, but I had no doubt she could enforce her will upon me if she wished. I wore a dog's collar. She, as if to keep some symbol of authority upon her, carried a long, slim riding crop in her fist. It was freshly polished. I gazed at it, and she watched me. "Go ahead, do it," Dick laughed. "I will if you do." Miriam, looking like she must enforce her will somehow, put a hand on young Dick's tousled head and leaned over him. Her big bosoms nearly spilled from her open-necked dress, its buttons more undone than done, barely containing the weight of her full breasts as all but their nipples hung forth. Carefully, looking quite grave and mature, Miriam slipped her riding crop under Dick's penis and lifted its elongated length. "Such a delightful young penis you have here, young man..." Miriam said. "I should hate to have to hurt it." Dick trembled. I think something changed in him as he watched his big penis hefted up by Miriam's crop, held stiffly in her small fist. I gazed, fascinated, as she ran her crop in a sawlike fashion under the halfway point of his shaft, as if to cut it in two. Then she slid the crop down to the tip of his penis. She caught the crown of his huge knob in the loop at the end of her crop. She tugged on him. He was trapped, lightly, within her crop's loop. Then she delicately brought her free hand down and, nimbly, used her nailed fingers to detach him from her loop. She swung the crop freely. He watched, his eyes big. "A man is coming to fuck me," she said to Dick. "Otherwise I'd make you pee, and I'd torture your big penis all night for it." She stood upright, looked at the window, ran her fingers through her hair. "And all afternoon. And forever, probably, but this man is most jealous, and I cannot let him see you. You must leave, dear boy, and you too, Kelly. All of you must go now. Playtime's over. Back to the real world and real things." She turned, and I saw her bottom sway within her dress as she moved. It was a large, fully shaped woman's bottom. She looked back over her shoulder at me and then, watching me, she slapped her own hiney with her riding crop. "He's most severe," she teased me. "You'd never be able to stand him." And then she left. Leaving, though, thoughts behind in my mind. I was trembling with some untouched need, something I'd only tested a little before, something which still lay dormant within me. I had to have someone break through to it, and I knew if he did, I'd melt into myself in a pool of bliss, and I'd die. He'd birth a new me. I wanted the baby. I glanced at Dick, longing in my eyes, but I knew he couldn't break through for me. He was only good at spearing hymens, physical barriers, not breaking into a girl's psychology. Yet, he could help. I think, somehow, he knew what I was thinking. As if to bond with him, with my fate, I let my pee (with some trepidation and difficulty) spritz from my peehole. It flooded the bed between my thighs. My cunny made water. Dick watched, and then, as if tacitly agreeing with what I must do, he peed too. Our companions laughed as we added to the wet spots already on the bed, most significantly. "Take me. Protect me," I whispered to Dick when we were done. We sat like children, apart, our legs spread on the white sheets of the bed. "You know I can't protect you," Dick replied. "Take me anyway. I want you to watch," I urged. I really did need him. "Who will protect me?" he asked. I smiled. "You're a big strong guy," I said. I licked my lips. "So's Sauron," he answered. "Come on, let's all take a bath together," the honey blonde interrupted. The strawberry redhead nodded her agreement but asked, "Where?" "Outside, on the grass. We can all bathe together out there. It's nice and warm," the blonde answered. I looked at her. We didn't even know each other's names, yet we were all nude together. She smiled at my blonde hair, and we shared dumb blonde thoughts, sisterly thoughts, just our eyes speaking. Beside her stood her lover, a newly minted Officer with his cock erect and ready for action. I decided to join them. Rising, I snagged Dick's penis between my fingers as I left the bed. I made him follow me. I held him by his lone fleshy rein, his genital-rein. He came after me like a big horse, his feet heavy on the stairs, his breathing a little labored (from passion!) as he followed me with his dick in my hand. The blonde and the redhead copied me, leading their Officer lover by his penis, both of them holding him.Another great shot in the Cindy and John pictorial is on page 56. It shows Cindy, her mouth agape, about to receive an emission from John's penis. Yet another photo I liked is on page 59. It shows Cindy licking John's cock. But you also see, in the same photo, her long, lovely neck, stretching forth to suck him. And you see her slender, naked back, plus her sumptuous bare bosoms. I mention particular photos in the Cindy and John pictorial for this reason: the 'important' photos, of Cindy licking John's cock, mostly didn't turn me on. Sure, they're great for helping little kids understand what Clinton (allegedly) did with Monica. But, aside from that, they're not much fun. I've seen tons of dick-licking photos in porno magazines and am quite tired of looking at them. But the shots I've detailed above are new, fun, and interesting. If you're making porn, it's important not to just recycle the same old poses again and again. Photos of splayed cunts and licked dicks are as common as weeds. But, with a little ingenuity, as Swank displays in some of its photos this month, an old, tired subject can be given new life. Cindy reappears, in the "Uncensored All Girl Lickfest," on page 84. (She has a different name in this pictorial, but it's the same girl. She's the one holding the camera.) The "lick fest" is a standard girl-on-girl pictorial, but again Swank saves an otherwise boring pictorial with the inclusion of new and creative shots. For instance, right at the start of the pictorial, a blonde in a white bikini is baring her breast. Despite the fact that all four girls will soon be licking each other, I sense a tad of jealousy in the face of another blonde, in a silver bikini. She's staring at the blonde's bared tit and seems to be thinking, "Oh, she thinks she's so hot... just because she has such nice tits." It's exciting to think that these girls could be envious of each other! I can imagine girls at a real orgy being like that. Eager to fuck, yet jealous also. This is the sort of emotion that's important. It makes this pictorial seem real. The worst sort of pictorial would be what you usually see... paid harlots, who couldn't care less about getting naked, and aren't even thinking about what they're doing as they engage in the most 'intimate' of acts. Another nice photo begins the "lick fest" pictorial. It's of all four girls, still 'clothed' in their bikinis, gazing up with innocent eyes at Cindy as she photographs them. It's another way of saying, "These are real girls, with real emotions." Of course, a porno magazine wouldn't be any fun if the most innocent-looking of girls didn't get down and 'do it'! These girls do, on the following pages, beginning with some lovely shots of the blonde being stripped of her panties and bra (pg. 86). Also on page 86 is a fantastic photo of Cindy kneeling. You see her mouth, open in wonder, gazing at the blonde's twat. Even more exciting, you see her bare bottom, her bare legs and bare feet. The fact that Cindy is barefoot adds to her naturalness. If she were wearing high-heels in that photo, I think it would be less sexy. But those bare feet, with her bottom jutting above them in all its wonderful, naked, cheek-split glory, is the best photo in this issue! Sadly, the "lick fest" pictorial loses its way on the following pages. Sure, there's a great shot of the blonde screaming, as she's invaded by her cunt-mates' fingers and tongues. But there are also some boring, 'standard' photos, images that are little more than explorations in gynecology. (Or butthole-ology.) How wonderful it would have been if these girls had wound up taking playful swats at each other with a riding crop! Or, they could have inflated a baby pool (with their succulent mouths) and played in it. There is no reason why a pictorial has to stick to just one subject. Why do photographers seem to concentrate on just one thing? Like, you know, "this is a pictorial about sex and food." Or, "this is an all girl lickfest." Fuck that! Put lots of stuff in your pictorial! Sure, you'll have to make the pictorial longer, but so what? Editorial judgement should tell you: "This is a good pictorial. Heck, we could devote half the magazine to just these four girls, having sexy adventures." Note: I do NOT mean, in saying the above, that the girls should have a series of separate adventures. That would be a return to the same, tired formula, of 'one subject' pictorials. They could do everything in one afternoon: strip, lick, spank, and swim. The pictorial could be 20 pages long, showing the girls getting progressively more kinky and messy. But, always, there should be a strong element of naturalness in the photos. The viewer should think, "This could really happen, to real, innocent girls." Maybe the girls are cooped up in a boarding school. Maybe their boyfriends are away, in the Army, in Saudi Arabia, and they decided to make a sexy video for them, and got carried away. Whatever. As long as they don't look like uncaring hookers. That we've seen far too much of in porno magazines. (One could, of course, make a magazine featuring tawdry older women who absolutely don't give a damn. In that case, you would want to focus explicitly on that. But you must decide what you want! Too much porn is just 'whacked out,' without any regard for an artistic vision.) Another fun pictorial in this issue is "Sonya and Josie" (pg. 20). This pictorial isn't as creative as the others (just two girls in bed), but it does have one or two nice shots. Specifically, a 'butt fucking shot' on page 22, plus a shot of Sonya gazing anxiously down at Josie as Josie licks Sonya's twat. (Also on page 22.) Which brings up an important point: girls, OPEN YOUR EYES when you're doing girl/girl pictorials. Sure, there are some photos, where the characters will be so overwhelmed with lust that their eyes will necessarily be closed. But, far too often, I am seeing girls with their eyes completely closed throughout the pictorial. How stupid! If I were having sex with a girl, I'm very sure my eyes would be open! I'd be like, "Whoa, there's her tits!" and, "Look! Her cunt!" Do you think if Beavis and Butthead were having sex with a girl their eyes would be closed? Heck no! Now, since I don't have enough money to make my own porn, allow me to give away a few of my ideas. Here are some things I'd like to see in a future issue of Swank: 1. One girl brushing another girl's teeth. Make sure both girls look sweet and innocent. Also, make sure you can see the bare bosoms of both girls hanging down. Have the girl who is getting her teeth brushed wearing a bright ribbon in her hair. 2. One girl douching another. 3. One girl wiping another after she poops on the toilet. 4. A girl eating with a too-short bib around her neck, so that you see her lovely bare bosoms. 5. A girl at a party, being initiated by being made to drink Castor Oil. Then, so she doesn't make a mess, she has her bare bottom powdered and fitted into diapers. (With pins, of course!) Remember to emphasize the softness and intimacy of feeling that exists between the girls. Also, they should look extraordinarily pretty. There should, in addition, be a sense of competitiveness between the girls in some of the photos. Is the brushing of teeth a loving act between two girls, or a 'mother' girl brushing the teeth of a bratty 'baby' girl? It's up to you, Swank! The important thing is not to simply grind out shots of naked people. Use your imagination! If you can't think of anything, just go to some college or high school and find some nerdy guy. Some guy who's never had sex. He'll be full of all sorts of wild, creative, fanciful ideas you can try. Some will be a little 'exotic'. Some might violate the Hatch Act. But, on the whole, he'll probably have some pretty great ideas. In my case, I'm thoroughly bored with the subject of sex and will, from now on, be devoting this newsletter to the Windows 95 operating system.little-neck.ny.us Archive site Newsgroup FAQ http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/ http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq

Chapter Four

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/8219.txt

J M MCMURRAY

Citation

"Damn!" The patrol car's blue and red flashers loomed large in my rear view mirror ... I had been caught. I pulled into the parking lot of a large mall simply because traffic on the street was too heavy. I held on to a faint hope the patrol car would keep going but no luck; it pulled in right behind me. For the first time I got a good look at the officer behind the wheel. Auburn hair and hazel eyes ... the kind that could melt ice cubes or start fires in other places. "If I have to get a ticket at least it will come from a good looking lady," I mutter out loud. When she stepped from the patrol car I received a double surprise, not only did she have a stunning looking face, but she filled her uniform magnificently! She wasn't petite by any means, but she wasn't an amazon either. She was very shapely and looked like she could handle herself in any situation from a street brawl to the bedroom. Looking at her walk as she approached my car, I felt that familiar warmth and stirring in the most private parts of my body. "What the hell, John" I said to myself, "Let's have a little fun." As she approached I noticed the absence of a wedding ring, something I always look for on good looking women, not that a wedding ring really makes a difference, the approach is just different. I rolled down my window and waited. She stood cautiously about three feet from my door. I put both hands on the steering wheel to let her know I meant no harm. I looked up at those deep, hazel eyes with a big grin on my face... "I hope you realize," I said good-naturedly, "this has completely destroyed any possibility of a meaningful relationship between us." Her eyes widened slightly in surprise, radiating a twinkle that promised a great sense of humor. A wide smile came shortly after and she hid it with her hand. "Excuse me," she said in a silky voice that failed to hide the amusement she was feeling. "I'll be right back. Please stay where you are." She returned to her patrol car and got in. I could see her laughing in my rear-view, aided by the lights in her car and the lights in the parking lot. Officer K. Edwards had a sense of humor all right; I was determined to test it to the limit. While she sat in the patrol car, I unzipped my slacks and fished out my semi-hard cock. The mere sight of the way she filled her uniform made me tingle all over ... a few sensual strokes and my cock stood up in my lap like a submarine's periscope looking for something to torpedo. A quick check of the rear-view showed me she was returning. Her countenance composed and all business. "May I have your driver's license, registra ... Oh Shit!" She had seen the periscope. I looked deep into her eyes and saw no humor in them. I had carried my little joke too far. "Sir," she said in a controlled and level tone of voice, "please put your penis back in your pants and step out of the car." Her right hand rested on the handle of the gun at her side. "I'm sorry, Officer Edwards, I..." "Do it now." She cut me off sternly, her hand tightening on the gun handle. I knew she meant business. I was sorry I had gone as far as I did and was a little embarrassed and frightened. I stuffed my cock back in my pants as best I could while she watched. I got out of the car. "Face the car, put your feet apart, lean against the car with your hands on the roof." "Oh, come on, officer. I was only..." "Please DO IT, sir." I was really scared now and the fear only made my now aching cock even harder. I assumed the position she requested, my heart thudding in my chest, pumping even more blood into my already stiff shaft. She pulled my feet further away from my car with her own, forcing my weight onto my hands, setting me off balance. Beginning at my ankles she frisked me, moving slowly upward, first on the outside, then the inside of my legs. When she reached my crotch, she pushed gently upward on my testicles, then moved her hand firmly along the length of my now throbbing cock. I felt a bead of lubricating liquid ooze from the tip. "I suppose you think this is funny." She seemed just a little out of breath, but her voice still had that silky, sensual tone laced with authority. "N-no, officer." I was really frightened now. "I can't help it, something about you really turns me on." Her hand left my cock and continued expertly exploring the upper regions of my body. "Put your left hand behind you back, please." Her manner was professional and all business. I felt the cold chrome steel of the handcuff close around my wrist. "Now your right hand, please." She finished cuffing me, turned me around and leaned me against the car. "Aw, c'mon officer, you're not really going to..." "Shut up or I'll gag you too!" Her voice was even and low. It had lost that sensual silkiness. She meant what she said. "You are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law." I couldn't believe I had been so stupid, exposing myself to a cop. She finished Mirandizing me and locked up my car. "I'm taking you to the station for booking. The charge is indecent exposure." She led me to the patrol car, opened the rear door, and helped me in. "Shit!" I thought, "Nine o'clock at night and I'm on my way to jail for flashing my cock at a cop!" She glanced back at me in the rear view mirror from time to time. I couldn't swear to it, but I thought I saw that sparkle in her eyes again...like a predator cat toying with it's victim just before the kill. "Look on the bright side" she said, that silkiness back in her voice, "I'm not going to give you a ticket." "I don't suppose you'd be willing to forget about my, shall we say, stupidity back there, would you?" "Not a chance! You're going to pay for this one, mister." "John" I said weakly. "Listen, I didn't mean any disrespect, Officer Edwards....may I ask you your first name?" "Sure" she said evenly, "you can ask." "What is your first name officer?" "Patrolwoman Edwards, badge 6973" she said. "Now button it up creep, we're almost there." "This is it" I thought. "My life ruined and all because I had to have a little fun....SHIT!" She pulled the patrol car into the driveway of what looked like a deserted building across the street from the police station. "Hey" I said, "isn't that the police station across the street?" "That's the new station, this is the old station. We use the old station as a holding area. You're not getting booked until morning. Give you a chance to cool off." "But Officer...." "I told you to button it! One more word and you get a gag...I mean it!" She pulled to a stop at the rear of the building and helped me out. I thought it rather strange there were no lights in the parking lot, and none on in the building. She led me in to the building, her flashlight leading the way. "Hey, wait a second! Where are you ..." "Shut up!" she said, and took us to the basement and a long row of deserted cells. She stopped in front of one of the cells and removed the handcuffs. I turned around to see the barrel of her revolver aimed at the center of my chest. "Now back up, slowly, into the cell." The gun barrel didn't waiver an inch....I backed in slowly. "Strip." "What?" I couldn't believe what I'd heard. "I'm not stipping for you or anyone else. I want to make a phone call." She cocked the revolver and aimed it lower. "Strip or I'll give you a .38 caliber vasectomy, you son-of-a-bitch." I stripped down to my undershorts and socks and stood there like an adolescent at his first dance. My hard-on had long since vanished. All I felt now was a slight nausea and weakness in my knees. "Take it all off" she said evenly. I did as she commanded, first the socks then, hesitantly, the underwear. I cupped my hands in front of my private parts. "A little shy?" she asked, smiling. "You were anxious enough to show it to me a little while ago." "Look Patrolwoman Edwards" I said weakly, "that was a mistake and I'm sorry." "Kate" she said with her silky voice, "now lie down on the bunk on your back." Her revolver was still aimed at my shriveled privates. I stretched out on the bunk. "Here" she said tossing the handcuffs at me, "put the chain through the bars on the bunk and cuff both hands.She came to the side of the bunk and sat down next to me. She put the barrel of her revolver under my limp cock and lifted it. The coldness of the steel sent shivers through my body. "Pathetic looking little thing" she said laughing, "what's the matter, stud, can't get it up?" I moaned in embarrassment. She got up and hung the heavy wool blanket from the other bunk across the cell window, then lit a large candle that had been in the sink. A warm glow of light and eerie shadows filled the cell. She stood in the center of the cell, put her gun in its holster, and removed the belt. She tossed it on the empty bunk. Slowly, she reached behind her head and did something with her hair. It fell across her shoulders flashing like deep burning embers in the candlelight. "I'll make you a deal" she said, standing with her legs slightly apart, hands on her hips, "if I'm happy with you in the morning, you go free. If not, you go to jail." My mouth fell open in astonishment and I could feel the hydraulic system in my loins begin to pump blood into my limp meat. "Huh?" was all I could manage. "Either that" she purred with that silky voice, "or I take you across the street and book you right now. What'll it be? A night of pleasure or a police record?" "What do I have to do to make you happy?" "It's really very simple. Until six tomorrow morning, you are going to be my slave. If you do everything, EVERYTHING I tell you to do, and don't complain about anything...I'll be happy and you'll be free. Fail to comply just once, or complain the slightest bit...and I book you as a pervert. Deal?" "I-I'll give it a try, Kate. May I call you Kate?" "You may. Now for the rules. You may make any sounds of passion you wish and as loud as you wish. No one will hear us. You may not touch me unless I give you my permission. I will do with you whatever I please and you will not complain. That's all there is to it." "O-okay" I said timidly, "I'll try." She unbuttoned the blouse of her uniform and removed it. Her ample breasts trapped by her bra swelled in the middle like two gently rolling hills. She reached behind her and set them free, tossing her bra on the empty bunk with her blouse. She cupped her breasts, lifting them slightly and looked from them to me. "Do you like my breasts, slave?" Frantically trying to remember the rules she had outlined, I replied, "Yes, Kate, they're magnificent." I didn't have to pretend to answer, either...they were truly amazing! She approached me slowly, still cupping those beautiful globes. When she got to me she leaned over and put one of her erect nipples about a half inch from my lips. My cock had come fully awake now and was standing at attention. I wanted to take that succulent nipple in my mouth...taste its sweetness and nibble on it...my cock began to pulsate. "May I take your nipple in my mouth, Kate?" "NO!" she said, a huskiness in her silky voice, her breathing deeper and a little faster. She closed the distance between her nipple and my lips, pushing it lightly against my mouth. My loins were screaming at my lips and teeth to open up and take that hard little bud inside...my mind kept my mouth tightly shut. After what seemed like centuries, she stood up. "You've passed my little test, slave. Do you want to suck on my nipple?" "Oh yes, Kate, please, I beg you, put your nipple in my mouth." At that moment I wasn't acting or playing a slave game, my entire being ached to taste her. "Very well" she purred seductively, "you're a good slave and deserve a reward. The better you are, the more rewards you get." She leaned over me again. I parted my hungry lips and raised my head to meet her descending nipple. She held it just out of reach. I couldn't help myself, little boy whimpering sounds escaped my throat in anticipation. "Please, oh please, Kate" I whimpered, "I'll do anything you say, ANYTHING, just let me taste your nipple." "I know you will, darling" she whispered, "I know you will." She lowered her hard nipple to my parted lips. I closed them around it and slowly traced a path around its base with my tongue. Her eyes closed and a soft moan came out of her. She pushed harder with her breast and I opened my mouth wider to take all she wanted to give. "Yessss slave! Suck my breast!" Her breathing was heavier. I captured her nipple in my teeth and began nibbling from the base, working my way to the tip, then flicked, licked and sucked, then began nibbling again. Her moaning became louder and more yearning. Without warning she stood up, pulling her breast from my mouth with a wet popping sound. I groaned in frustration and disappointment. "Something wrong, slave?" Her eyes flashed mischievously at mine, the sparkle had returned. "Do you want to suck on my nipple some more?" she asked teasingly. "You aren't complaining, are you?" "No, mistress Kate, I'm not complaining. It's just that your nipples are so sweet, and firm...I could nibble and suck on them for hours." "Perhaps later" she said, moving back to the center of the cell. "Right now I want you to see the rest of what you may or may not get to experience tonight."on my cock was too much. My balls tightened involuntarily and a stream of hot, creamy cum erupted from the head of my cock and flowed over her hand. I tried to pump against her hand with my hips to release more of my pent up fluid, but she released her grip on my hot cock immediately. It jerked a few times on its own, pumping liquid from the tip with each spasm. I could feel it hot against my skin as it worked its way down my shaft toward my balls. I wanted to scream in frustration, wanted to rape this hot cop bitch who held me captive, wanted to stab her to death with my hot throbbing cock...all I did was whimper "Oh God, Kate...Oh God...Oh my God..." "Does it feel better now?" she asked and laughed a deep, animal laugh. She slowly licked my cum from her hand. "You taste delicious, slave" she purred. "I'll have to have more....but later." She bent then, lowering her lips to mine, her tongue exploring the inside of my mouth. I could taste my own salty juices in her mouth and could smell the musky scent of my cum on her breath. My mind began to slip...I was driven slowly to the brink of sexual insanity by this taunting, teasing police officer! She broke the kiss long before I wanted her to. I closed my eyes and savored the kiss, committing it to memory forever. Opening my eyes again, I looked down my body and saw her face in the vicinity of my still hard cock. "Oh, look" she whispered sensually, "you've spilled some of your sweet cum." I could feel her hot breath on my cock and balls as she spoke. "Would my slave like me to clean him up?" she asked teasingly. "Y-yesssss, please do." There was an aching, genuinely urgent tone in my voice. "Do you think you deserve to be cleaned? Do you think you've been a good slave, darling John?" Her voice was teasing, taunting, driving me wild with desire and a deep, yawning urge to bury my hot cock into any opening she might offer. "I've tried to be good, Mistress." I said timidly, not looking at her. As much as I tried to hold on to my masculinity, I failed. I really had become this incredibly sexy vixen's slave. At that moment I knew I would do anything she asked. I'd do it gladly if it meant sampling her charms. Every nerve ending in my body was on a razor's edge...her slightest touch, anywhere on my body sent waves of tingles and goose flesh racing throughout my entire being. "Look at me, slave" she commanded. I looked into her sparkling hazel eyes and became lost in a place I never wanted to escape from. I felt as if I were falling into transparent pools of hazel colored liquid....if she didn't speak soon I knew I would drown. At the last possible second her voice pulled me out of her liquid eyes, saving me from being trapped there for eternity. "Yes" she said slowly, "you have been a good slave, an obedient and tasty slave. You have earned another reward. I will let it be one of your own choosing. How would you like to be cleaned up slave?" My mind raced with the possibilities. I wanted my cock deep in her inviting pussy....I also wanted to feel it slide deep into her throat...I wanted to stuff its entire, throbbing length into her ass, too. I was so consumed with desire for this creature, I couldn't speak. "Quickly, slave" she purred, "what part of your Mistress do you want me to clean your beautiful cock and balls with?" "It's not a slave's place to choose, Mistress." It was as if someone else had spoken with my voice. I'd been given the chance to let my cock explore any part of this luscious body I desired and I actually said it wasn't my place to choose! "Ahhh, my sweet, sexy John slave." She was using that sexy voice of hers. "You are indeed the perfect slave. You pass each test I give you." With that she lowered her head and cleaned the cum from my cock and balls with her luxuriously thick auburn hair. She wrapped my rigid cock in it and slowly moved it from the base of my shaft to the tip of its head. It was like pushing my cock through a silken tube....the sensation was so intense I nearly came again. I gasped from the pure pleasure of it. I had never imagined, in my wildest fantasies, that a woman's hair could feel so good! When she finally finished cleaning me and lifted her head, I could see streaks of her hair stuck wetly together with my creamy cum. "We're going to have some fun now, slave." She left the bunk and bent over a carry bag she had brought with her. Again she bent at the waist, knees straight, giving me a direct view of her glorious pussy trapped beneath her lacy panties. She took her time rummaging through the bag, all the while shifting her weight from one leg to the other. The movement beneath her panties was driving me even deeper into the depths of sexual desire....and she knew it! At long last she stood up and turned to face me. In one hand she held a small, penis shaped vibrator, in the other was a string of ten wooden beads, each a quarter of an inch in diameter and spaced two inches apart on the string. I had heard stories of the beads and how they were used, but I had never experienced it...my blood raced at the thought. She approached slowly, her hips undulating, her weapons in her hands, a wide smile on her face. She laid her weapons at the foot of the bed between my legs. Then she removed the pillow from beneath my head. "Lift your ass" she commanded. I obeyed. She doubled the pillow and placed it beneath my ass. "Relax" she said. I tried. She retrieved her weapons and positioned herself between my legs. She switched on the vibrator and put its tip at the base of my scrotum and moved it slowly upward. The sensations made my cock jump and wobble uncontrollably. After a few minutes she moved it to the base of my cock and held it there. She lowered her head then and I could feel her warm, wet tongue licking my ass and poking at my hole. Moaning sounds were coming from deep within her as she continued to lubricate my asshole with her warm saliva. I jerked my hips upward and tightened my ass muscles when she attempted to insert the first wooden bead. She raised her head and stared at me with those bewitching eyes. "Relax, John" she commanded softly, compassionately, sensually. "Your Mistress wants you to feel pleasure, not pain." "Oh God." was all I could manage to moan. She lowered her head again. I loosened my muscles as best I could and felt the first of ten beads being pushed gently into my ass by this wildly erotic animal that held me captive. "Oooooooh GOD!" I moaned....and with each of the ten beads she inserted, I moaned the same phrase. "How do you feel?" she asked when she had completed her task. "Full" I said, "it feels so, so strange." I was breathing heavily. "Don't worry, John. Just relax your muscles, you'll enjoy it so much more." With all the effort I could manage, I concentrated on relaxing. As I became more and more relaxed, that strange feeling left me and I felt less full. The sensation actually became pleasant. "Yes, John. That's much better" she purred soothingly. She put the buzzing vibrator back on my scrotum and rotated it in tiny circles. Her other hand grasped my throbbing shaft and held it steady. Then she lowered her head and probed the tiny opening in the head of my cock with her hot tongue. Indescribable sensations shot down the length of my tortured cock and raced through my body like an avalanche! "I'm going to make you cum in my mouth." She said, moving her head away from my eager cock. "But I promise you one thing, you'll experience ecstasy you never thought possible before you do!" I had already experienced ecstasy of the magnitude she described and she hadn't really done anything to me, yet. All of her, her body, her eyes, her voice, her taunting and teasing were driving me insane with passion. I wanted to deposit a hot load of liquid deep within her luscious body and I didn't care where! My hips jerked spasmodically when I felt the hot wetness of her mouth close around the head of my cock .... she was still working the vibrator in tight circles on my scrotum, her other hand rhythmically squeezing my shaft. Her tongue began moving back and forth across the opening in my cock .... slowly at first then faster and faster. In a desperate effort to get more of myself inside her, I pushed upward. She immediately stopped all activity and sat upright, staring at me with her hypnotic eyes .... my steel hard cock was left bobbing in the air like a drunken sailor, the skin on its head hot, purple and tight in anticipation. "Oooooh GOD! Kate, Mistress .... please, don't torture me this way. I don't know how much longer I can stand it!" My head tossed from side to side as I spoke. The pressure of the hot fluids trapped inside my body was becoming painful. I felt if I didn't cum soon I would explode, flooding the insides of my own body with juices. "Don't?" She asked with authority. "Did my slave actually say don't to me?" She laughed a wicked little laugh, "Dear slave, you don't understand do you? You are MY slave, I AM your Mistress. I will decide what I will and will not do, not you. Your only purpose for being tonight is to make me happy. Do you understand?" "Y-yes, Kate." I said sheepishly, "I will do as you say, it's just that you're driving me crazy .... I can't help it, I just want to feel all of me deep inside you." "Let me hear you beg for it slave." She said tauntingly, eyes flashing then she licked the underside of my throbbing shaft from base to tip. "OH GOD!" I moaned, my body jerking in response to her tongue. "You are the perfect Mistress." I was gasping for breath, barely getting the words out. "You are fair in your punishment and compassionate in your judgement.Please, Mistress, I beg of you, have compassion for this unworthy servant .... I exist only to give you pleasure .... ummmmm please, allow my fevered and eager cock to explore the depths of your throat ... Oh God, Kate, allow this pitiful slave to provide you with a warm drink of sweet juices to soothe your burning throat .... please, Kate, I only want to please you ... "Oooooh slave!" She purred, her eyes softening with compassion and just a hint of eagerness. "You have begged so eloquently, how can I possibly refuse? Besides, I am anxious to taste your cum again. I have decided to grant your request." She put the vibrator back on my scrotum and quickly slid her hot mouth down the full length of my tormented cock, enclosing it in a moist, velvety sheath that clung to the contours of my shaft and head like a glove. "Aaaaagggghhhh!" I moaned as the head of my pulsing tube came to rest at the back of her throat, her soft lips applying scintillating pressure on the base of my shaft, her silken tongue moving back and forth on the underside of my cock. Her tongue was picking up and transmitting the tingling vibration from the machine pressing against my balls. "OH MY GOD! I-I CAN'T STAND IT ... IT FEELS SOOOOO WONDERFUL!" I was moaning and whimpering now, buried to the hilt in her tight throat ... I thought I was going to die! She began a slow, steady up and down movement with her head, animal sounds of her own mingling with mine. My burning cock slid out to the head then back into that tight sheath to the base of her throat .... faster and faster she moved .... my head tossing from side to side .... eyes squeezed tightly shut .... sparks of sexual fire exploding in my brain and showering my entire body with hot pin pricks of sensual sensation .... she continued moving her head up and down .... the pleasure she and the vibrator were giving went far past the concept of "normal". So intense was the pleasure, it bordered on the threshold of pain .... the mechanism in my body that triggers orgasm was frozen solid .... I was lost in a galaxy of pleasure and pain .... without orgasm there could be no way out! I can't be sure how long she kept it up. But, if she kept doing what she was doing I knew the exhilarating intensity of sensation would never let me cum. She must have read my mind or my cock or both because she slowed her pace and began working her magic mouth on the head only, her free hand gripping my shaft and jacking me off in perfect time with her mouth. As suddenly as she had shifted technique, a whole different wave of sensations rolled in and crashed over my tingling body. The first warnings of a 10.2 earthquake began rocking my body, it's epicenter at my throbbing cock. The major quake shot throughout my body .... stream after stream of hot cum rocketed into her hungry mouth. "OOOOOOH SHIIIIIT!" I screamed, thrusting my hips off the pillow. She took all of the first load, moaning and making animal sounds .... then she grabbed the string sticking out of my ass and pulled the first wooden bead across my prostate..... "OH! OH! OOOOOH MY GOD!" I was screaming in surprise as an aftershock coursed through my cock producing a second orgasm and a second flood of hot liquid .... she captured it in her mouth and gulped it down .... another pull on the string, another aftershock, another orgasm, more cum than I ever thought I was capable of producing .... my eyes were wide open, not seeing .... my body arched off the pillow .... frozen like a statue .... my mouth wide and working .... no sound coming out .... Still another bead exploding my insides with sensation, draining me of fluid and still her mouth worked feverishly on my erupting cock, sucking out the creamy liquid .... tongue swirling .... urging me to produce more! I came 11 times in the space of two minutes .... it seemed like an eternity, each bead worked its magic on my prostate, each pass producing an intense, cum gushing orgasm! After the last orgasm my body remained frozen in that arched position, the head of my drained cock still trapped in her mouth .... still pulsating with frequent, non-orgasmic aftershocks .... she slowly inserted the vibrator in my ass .... my entire body began to shudder and collapsed on the bed, quivering and shaking out of control. I was gasping for breath, trying to gain control of my body .... "Oh fuck it!" I thought and gave myself to the sensations controlling me. "Oooooh slave! You have given me a wonderful treat .... my thirst is quenched! But my pussy and my ass need a drink, too!" "Noooooo ...." I protested weakly. My mind was telling me my body was exhausted .... drained .... used up. "Yessss," she purred, "but not until you've rested." She took a wash cloth from her bag and held it under cold water from the sink. She wrung it out and, lifting my limp cock delicately with her fingers, placed the cool, damp cloth on my feverish balls. Then she released my cock and pulled the remainder of the cloth over it. "Aaaaahhh," I sighed, my breathing beginning to return to normal, "that feels wonderful." She reached back into her goody bag and pulled out a banana. Sitting beside me on the bunk, she peeled it slowly. Everything she did had an air of sensuality. She tossed the peel in the corner and held the fruit up delicately in front of my face. "We must have nourishment." She said and moved the end of the banana toward her parted lips. She licked it from mid way to the tip and let the end slip slowly into her mouth. In the deepest, most remote places of my being, I felt a weak sexual stirring begin. "Ummmmm." She sighed, biting off the tip of the fruit. I watched in fascination as she chewed and then swallowed it. "It's good slave, but not as delicious as you!" She laid the banana on my chest and took her panties off, teasingly, sensu-ally. The sight of her full, beautiful bush made my heart skip a beat .... I couldn't take my eyes away from it. "You like my pussy slave?" She asked tauntingly. She spread pink and inviting clit lay nestled in her flesh like a precious cultured pearl. Further down the entrance to paradise lay invitingly open. "Would you like to fuck me slave?" Her eyes were sparkling again and she began slowly rotating her hips, teasing me with her waiting pink flesh. "Would you like to put your cock deep in my hot, wet pussy slave?" "OH GOD YES!" My eyes were wide, my throat dry, the sexual stirring I felt moments before becoming a tornado of destructive passion and yearning. I felt my balls moving inside my sack and my limp meat was beginning to stiffen again. "Perhaps .... perhaps not!" She laughed deep in her throat, fanning the fires she had started deep within me. She turned the banana around and placed the unbitten end against the entrance to paradise. Leaning back slightly, she pushed the fruit slowly into her pussy. I watched in a hypnotic trance as the fruit slid inch by agonizing inch into her moist opening. After pushing it almost all the way in, she withdrew it, then pushed it in again, then withdrew it all the way. She brought the fruit toward my face, her woman scent mixed with the smell of the banana made my mouth water. I opened my mouth wide in anticipation of this delightful treat. She did not disappoint me .... I took a big bite, savoring the mixed flavors. She fed me the rest of the most delicious fruit I'd ever tasted. I knew deep inside I'd never be able to look at a banana again without reliving these moments. Back in her goodie bag again, she took out a can of whipped cream. Shaking the can, she spread her legs once again and sprayed her entire bush with the fluffy white topping. "Time for dessert." She purred and put one knee on each side of my head, her cream soaked pussy hovering above my mouth. "Bon apetite." She said and lowered that savory treat to my mouth. She didn't have to tell me what to do next. Starting at the entrance to paradise, I licked the cream from her treasures .... she rocked her hips back and forth to help me, breathing heavily, moaning and sighing. I licked and slurped and sucked the delicious stuff from between her pussy lips, from the sides of her legs and her bush. Another food I would never look at in quite the same way again! As the sweet treat vanished, I concentrated my efforts on her clit. She pressed harder against my mouth, rocking faster and moaning louder. "Ummmmm .... yes slave." She sighed, breathing faster. "Eat my pussy, Ooooooh ... take my clit in your teeth, that's it .... Oh God Yes! Bite it yes yes YEESSSSS .... a little harder .... Oooooh Yeah .... now put your tongue in my hole .... Oooooooo Ummmmmmm .... yes slave!" She was rocking faster moving her sweet wet pussy back her nipples and rolling them back and forth between her fingers. Her head was thrown back and she began whimpering and moaning louder. The fire that had begun in my loins was now raging out of control and spread to other parts of my body .... my cock had once again become hard as steel. "Oooooh Oooooh Oooooh Oooooh slave!" She was beginning to scream in ecstasy .... I could feel her thighs quivering against the sides of my head as she moved her pussy ever faster across my tongue. She was grinding that magnificent cunt down into my mouth now .... each time her clit came over my tongue, her thighs jerked and I tried to capture that elusive bud and suck on it, but nothing would stop the rocking, grinding motion she had begun with her hips. "YES YES YES YES!" She chanted, rocking still faster. "OOOH GOD! OOOH GOD! OOOOOOOOO YEEEEESSSSS!" She was breathing wildly now, her chest heaving with the labor .... her thighs began jerking uncontrollably ... she moved her hands from her breasts to my head.Taking a handful of my hair with each hand she pulled my face harder into her soaking wet crotch .... suddenly she stopped rocking, her entire body quivering, she ground her pussy into my face in tiny rotating circles, pulling my face still harder into her crotch with her hands. I captured her throbbing clit and closed my lips around it .... applying all the suction I could manage and, at the same time, nibbled and flicked it with my tongue as hard as I could. The quivering in her body turned to a shudder, a loud shrieking scream tore from her throat .... her hips were grinding in small circles hard against my face forcing her hot, wet pussy even tighter to my hungry mouth. She was climbing to the peak of an orgasmic mountain and I was doing all I could to help her reach the top. At the peak of her orgasm she ceased all movement, except for her clit. I could feel it pulsating in my mouth and continued to nibble and run my tongue roughly across its tip. Suddenly the scream coming from her throat was cut off .... the shuddering in her body became a heaving of all her muscles .... her clit still pulsating, throbbing in climax! She was holding her breath ..... her muscles ceased heaving and tensed like those of a predator cat ready to pounce .... still her clit throbbed and pulsated between my lips .... we were frozen in time like models for a still life artist .... the only movement her clit and my tongue. She had reached the peak of the orgasmic mountain and was taking her sweet time, enjoying the sensations at the top. Finally, she began to descend the other side .... she finished the scream .... her chest began heaving again desperately sucking in life giving oxygen .... her body began shuddering again ..... her hips began rocking back and forth wildly again and her clit continued to throb as it swept past my tongue. She was taking a roller coaster ride and I had to hang on and take the ride with her. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, all her movement began to slow. The closer she got to the base of the mountain, the slower she moved. Sigh after deep, satisfied sigh came out of her .... her hips slowed to a halt, her clit resting directly on my tongue .... it was no longer throbbing. I licked it gently .... she began purring like a cat and ran her fingers through my hair, soothing the places she had pulled so hard just moments before. "Ummmmmmmmm" She sighed dreamily. "John, that was wonderful." The masterful tone in her voice had vanished. It was replaced by the voice of a soft, sensual woman who had set out on an adventure in mountain climbing, had succeeded and was now relaxing in front of a cozy fire in a snowed in lodge. "God! Your mouth is fantastic, lover." She purred then sighed heavily in contentment. "Unghflnnnfggh" I replied, her pussy still resting sweetly on my mouth. "Oops, sorry!" She laughed, and climbed off my face. She stretched out next to me on the bunk, her body pressing close to mine, her fingers making little curls with the hair on my chest. She was looking dreamily into my eyes, her own eyes soft and feeling. They had lost the sparkle of the Mistress who held me captive and took on the look of the eyes of a captured dove. She ran her hand down my chest and across my stomach to my cock. She stroked its head gently with her fingers, then gripped it and squeezed lightly sending shivers through my body. As she squeezed my cock she moved her face close to mine, her eyes searching mine. She lowered her lips to mine in a long, passionate, deep french .... her tongue seeking out mine and playing tag with it.... little moaning sounds coming from her throat. "Oh God!" She said, her lips still on mine, speaking directly into my mouth, "I want your hard beautiful cock in my pussy. I want to feel it fill me. I want it to explode inside of me and flood me with your hot, wonderful cum." She moaned a long, sensual moan into my mouth .... I could feel the vibrations of it on my lips. Her hand began squeezing my cock tighter and moving slowly up and down the shaft .... she let it move down my cock to my balls and began massaging them gently .... cupping them .... scratching the bottom of my sack with her nails .... gently squeezing them. She pressed her mouth tighter against mine and resumed the passionate kiss of seconds before, all the while doing miraculous things to my genitals with her talented fingers. "Ooooooh." She purred, "Do you want to fuck me, John? Do you want to feel yourself deep inside me?" Her breathing was becoming more rapid as was my own. "Do you want to feel my pussy squeeze your beautiful cock until you can't stand it anymore? Do you want to feel your hot cum spurt deep inside me? Oh God .... PLEASE TELL me the passion of wanting to bury my cock deep inside her. "Oh God Yes!" She moaned, "SO DO I!" She got the whipped cream can and began shaking it. When it was ready she put the nozzle at the base of my rigid cock and made a complete circle of the sweet cream from the base of my cock to the top. It looked like I had a hard, whipped cream cock protruding from my body. "Ooooooh" she sighed, "just looking at that makes my pussy hungry!" She positioned herself over my whipped cream cock, one leg on each side of my hips, facing me. Slowly, she lowered herself until the creamy head of my swollen cock barely touched her pussy lips. She was breathing heavily now, looking down between her legs to position her juicy pussy just right. When the head of my cock was in just the right position, she lowered her hips a little more, forcing the head of my cock between the hungry, waiting lips of her unbelievably hot cunt. She locked onto my eyes with her own. I held my breath in anticipation, afraid to move for fear she would revert to the slave Mistress and stop. "Oooooh God! I've been waiting for this all night!" She moaned, still suspended above me, just the head of my cock inside her. I wanted to scream and thrust upward, wanted to shout "ME TOO! SIT DOWN FOR GOD'S SAKE! COVER MY COCK WITH YOUR HOT PUSSY!" But I didn't .... I just held my breath hoping she would slide down my waiting pole. I didn't have to wait too long. V-e-r-y s-l-o-w-l-y she allowed my cock to slip into her hot, hungry pussy. I wanted to thrust, I wanted to scream, I WANTED TO BURY IT TO THE HILT! The whipped cream was beginning to melt from the heat of our bodies. I could feel it sliding down my cock, over my balls and into the crack of my ass .... it was exciting, using the whipped cream for a lubricant, not that her pussy needed lubricating, it was soaking wet all on its own .... still the thought was erotic and more than just a little stimulating. My cock was about a fourth of the way in .... she was squirming and panting and whimpering. Her thighs were beginning to shake from the strain of lowering herself so slowly and from anticipation. "Ummmmmm .... God that feels great!" She purred, still moving slowly down my rigid cock .... one third the way in now .... we were both moaning and panting .... half way in .... she began to chant "Ooooh Baby! Ooooh Baby! Ooooh Baby!" .... two thirds of my throbbing cock was now out of sight, concealed within the walls of her tight love tunnel. I couldn't contain myself any longer .... "OH GOD, KATE! PLEASE, BURY MY COCK ALL THE WAY! I CAN'T STAND IT .... OOOOHHHH MY GOD!" Apparently she couldn't stand it any longer either. Without warning, she slammed her hips down, burying my cock to the hilt in her hot, wet pussy. "OH!" She squealed with delight, "Ummmmmmmm, that's wonderful." She purred, sitting absolutely still, my cock completely and totally buried inside her. At the moment she sat down on my cock, the breath escaped my lungs and I shouted .... "HOLY SHIT! OOOOH GOD YESSSS!" Still motionless on top of me, she began rhythmically contracting and relaxing the muscles inside her hungry pussy. Each time she contracted those wonderful muscles, squeezing my cock, I would tighten my sphincter and expand the head of my cock to its fullest size. We played expand and contract for what seemed like hours, our eyes locked on one another, just feeling the sensations and being one with each other. "Oooohhh slave," She whispered sexily "you have a very talented cock. Does it like being in my pussy?" "Yes yes, Mistress! It wants to please you and fill you with its hot load of white liquid." "My pussy can hardly wait!" She sighed and began rocking back and forth with her hips. The motion bent my rigid pole back and forth, moving it only slightly inside her. Her head was back and she cupped her breasts with her hands, squeezing them as she continued to rock back and forth on my burning cock. After awhile, she leaned forward, pressing her breasts against my hairy and heaving chest .... her lips found mine and we kissed passionately. I longed for my hands to be free so I could fondle her breasts and grab her ass cheeks. While she lay on my chest, I began a slow thrusting motion with my hips, driving my cock slowly in and out of the hot, velvety tunnel that held it prisoner. She began moaning softly into my mouth and I into hers, our tongues still locked in a battle for dominance. As I thrust in and out of her hot pussy, she began moving her hips from side to side. Her motion combined with mine caused my thrusting cock to scrape one side lining of her tight love tunnel, then the other .... it was a completely new sensation to me and it was bringing me to the base of my own orgasmic mountain! "Ahhhh yes, fuck me baby!" She moaned into my mouth. "Ram that hard cock into me .... deeper, Oooooh yes, that's it .... it feels so wonderful I want you to push it all the way through me!" The way she moaned those words of passions directly into my mouth was helping me, pushing me, to the first ledge of my mountain. The silky wet walls of her pussy working wonders on the sensitive head of my pulsing cock! "God, baby, you're sooo good!"So tight .... so hot .... so wet!" I breathed the words into her mouth. She put her hands on my chest and pushed herself to an upright position and, using the muscles in her legs began lifting herself up and down on my rigid cock. Faster and faster she went, like a novice rider on a galloping horse. With each bounce, my throbbing whimpered and I sighed "OH GOD! OH GOD!" Faster and faster she bounced, tossing her head from side to side, beginning a low volume chant of "FUCK ME! FUCK ME! FUCK ME!" That became louder the faster she moved. She was moving at a furious pace now, with each downward plunge she made, little bits of whipped cream splashed out from between us, covering my chest and her inner thighs. "OOOOOHHHH GOD YES!" She screamed, reaching a quick and violent orgasm that made her body shudder. As she came, I began thrusting my hips upward and letting them fall, then up again, lifting her weight, helping her fuck herself into oblivion. "CUM CUM CUM .... YES YES YES .... OOOH OOOH OOOH" she was screaming as orgasmic sensations raced through her body. When her orgasm subsided, she slowed her pace until she came to a stop sitting on my still rock hard cock. My hips were squirming beneath her in passion, my own moaning and whimpering becoming louder .... "Ohhhhh noooo, please, don't stop now ..... Oh God ....". "Don't worry, lover, we're not through yet." She purred. Then she stretched her legs out in front of her and rotated her body so her back was to my face. Never once coming close to losing the cock buried deep in her hot pussy. The sensation of her turning sent a chill through my entire body! She reached down between my legs and began raking her fingernails along the underside of my balls. "OOOOOHHHH SHIIIIT!" I cried out in total surprise at both what she was doing and the sensations it caused. Her knees under her once again, she began that slow up and down movement with her body. Every few strokes she would pause with my cock almost all the way out, then move her hips from side to side and slowly slide back down over my hard and hot cock, all the while scratching and squeezing and massaging my balls gently, seductively. My breathing became more rapid as I quickly approached the second ledge on my orgasmic mountain! I felt lost on that mountain and was thankful to have a guide like her showing me the way to the top! "Yes baby, fill me with that hot cock of yours!" She moaned, "I love it deep inside me .... Ooooh yes, it fills me up soooo much .... I want your cum to wash every bit of my pussy .... I want to feel it splashing hot against my walls .... I want to hear you moan as your cum gushes out of your hot cock and floods deep into me .... Ummmmmm!" Her words were making my cock even harder than it was .... I didn't know how that could be possible but it was happening. that feeling I get when I know I'm going to last a long time. For the time being I was lost in the sensual, tingling feelings her hot pussy was imparting to my cock. She worked her body feverishly on my erect pole, speeding up her pace, then slowing down .... shifting positions slightly, each time bringing me to new heights of ecstasy .... and all the while stroking, scratching and squeezing my balls. In the next half hour she came twice, each more powerful than the one before. With each orgasm her fingernails dug into the flesh of my thighs and her screams of passion pierced the very essence of my soul. Tiny beads of sweat had broken out on her body and her breathing was becoming labored. Still she continued, working her wet pussy all over my throbbing hot cock. As she was approaching her fourth orgasm her buildup to it was so raw, so animalistic that my balls began to tingle wildly. The first warning that I was approaching the peak of my mountain. She pumped so hard and so fast, and squeezed my cock with her pussy so tightly I began to go insane with passion. With each foot of height I gained on my upward climb, she matched me in intensity and abandonment. We both began grunting and moaning, pounding our genitals together mercilessly. My legs began to go numb as the tingling spread throughout my body. I could feel my balls swell slightly prior to releasing their heavy load. At that instant I thought it would be impossible for either of us to get any more wild than we were .... I was wrong! As we approached orgasm her hand pulled my ball sack gently, the other drew blood from my thigh. We were both screaming between labored breaths .... our bodies writhing wildly trying to tear one another apart with pure animal lust. As my heavy balls exploded their load through my seminal vesicles, I thrust upward with all my strength, burying my spurting cock deeper into her greedy pussy than it had ever been. She screamed in a mixture of pain and pleasure and ground her hips downward impaling her pulsating pussy even further on my exploding cock. It's hard to describe the sounds, the sensations, the movements of our bodies and the punishment we inflicted on one another during our simultaneous orgasm. I only know her screams of passion were equal to my own, the intensity of her orgasm matched by mine and the pure animal lust that flooded over us was shared equally. I don't know how long we were lost in the throes of orgasmic ecstasy .... it just seemed to go on and on .... I felt as if every ounce of fluid was being sucked from my entire body by her gripping, hungry pussy. My balls were so drained they began to ache and still our bodies were tangled and thrusting in an animalistic frenzy, each attempting to best the other. I wanted to be lost in this wild abandon forever .... to be washed away in a flood I'm not sure quite how it ended. All I remember is our bodies collapsing in an exhausted heap. My cock was still deep within her but there was no feeling, no sensation. Her fabulous pussy had literally stripped the nerve endings from my body and devoured them. There was more deliriously sensual sex between us that night. We came again and again .... she used the beads on me twice more that I can remember .... it could have been more. I never dreamed I could cum so many times in such a short span of time, but her body and imagination did things to me that had never been done to me before. I remember at about three in the morning she released me from my bonds. We experimented with every imaginable position .... before we were finished my cock had explored every possible opening in her body and deposited it's creamy cargo within them all. At six o'clock a travel alarm in her goody bag went off. At the time we lay exhausted in one another's arms, caressing and frenching deeply, passionately. "Oh damn." She muttered at the sound of the alarm and got up to turn it off. "Well, John, slave, lover. Your sentence has been carried out and I hereby set you free." We dressed in silence. She in her uniform, me in my levis and sweat shirt. I didn't want this wild sexual animal to walk out of my life, but I didn't know what to say. "Would you like to come home with me? I'll make you a great breakfast." She must have read my mind. "I'd love to, Kate." I said softly. She took me to my car and I followed her home. As she put her key in the front door it swung open, a stunning brunette standing in the doorway. "John," Kate said, "I'd like you to meet my roommate Kimberly." "Hi, Kimberly." I said, my hand on Kate's ass. "Oooooh Hi John." She purred, her deep green eyes sparkling with sexual energy. Kate gave me a seductive little wink, a huge smile on her face.

M/F, light D&S, cop/arrest

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/14887.txt

The Naked Trucker

Trucker Encounter V: "At the Top of the Hill"

"Miles to go before I sleep." That's what it's about for a long-haul trucker: miles. The more miles you drive, the more money you make, especially when you're paid by the mile. Even if you're a regional driver who is paid a percentage of the run, you still make more money by driving more miles, thus being able to do more runs and get better-paying trips. When a trucking company recruiter interviews a prospective employee, one of the questions they sometimes ask is, "I see you have a hazmat endorsement. Do you like running hazmat loads?" Any trucker that says he likes to do so is nuts. "Hazmat" refers to hazardous materials - anything from gasoline to chemicals to explosives. The hazmat endorsement is one of several that can be earned through a written examination that truckers take when they earn their CDL (commercial driver's license). Like any other federal law, the endorsement is chock full of regulations from how far from the vehicle you have to be to light up a smoke and how far you are required to park from a building to how to handle chemical spills. Among all of the endorsements, which include double and triple trailers, tankers, and passenger vehicles, the hazmat endorsement is the one most commonly required by trucking companies. Even though most people think of gasoline tankers when they think about hazmat loads, they can also be shipped in dry vans and other types of tractor-trailers. And you never know when you're going to have to deliver a hazmat load. When you do, it's often more of a pain in the ass than it's worth, which is why most drivers don't want to be bothered with them at all. And since I drive a dry van or reefer most of the time, it's something I don't have to be bothered with myself - most of the time. It was a few late August when I had taken a load from Galveston, Texas, to Parkersburg, West Virginia. After punching in "Delivered and Waiting" on my Qualcomm, the on-board satellite computer in most tractor-trailers, I received a message from the dispatcher sending me to a plant in Nitro, West Virginia, just down the road from Parkersburg. I didn't realize how aptly named the town was until I got to the shipper and found out that I was going to be carrying a hazmat load up to New Jersey. Any truck that is carrying more than one thousand pounds of most hazmats, or hazardous materials, has to have placards or signs on all sides of the vehicle identifying the load as hazmat. As my truck sat at the loading dock in Nitro, I watched the lumpers - contracted laborers who load and unload trucks - drive their forklifts onto the trailer with pallets on which large chemical drums had been loaded. Most of the drums were filled with the raw materials for household cleaners, but four of the pallets were classified as hazmat. "Shit," I thought. Out of some 38,000 pounds of freight, only 1,800 pounds consisted of hazmats. But the law said that I had to placard my vehicle with signs indicating the hazardous nature of the shipment. Why was it such a pain in the ass? Because, to get to New Jersey from West Virginia, I would have to travel the Pennsylvania Turnpike. Midway along the turnpike were two areas where trucks have to pass through tunnels, and with few exceptions, trucks carrying hazmats were not allowed in the tunnels. That meant that I would have to take two detours off the road, bypassing the tunnels, and go through the mountainous terrain of Pennsylvania's local roads. "Yeah, yeah," I imagined, "nice scenery." But I knew that trucking up the steep Allegheny Mountains would hang me up for time, since a fully loaded tractor-trailer weighing some 80,000 pounds tended to chug up hills with less speed and energy than The Little Engine That Could. What would normally take 30 minutes going from exit to exit via the turnpike tunnels would take two hours of keeping my foot frozen to the accelerator pedal while the rig struggled to gain any respectable speed on the almost-vertical hills. And on the way down the other side of the mountains I'd be cursing out the air brakes that would lose power from constant application, smelling like the charred remains of burning rubber. I had been driving for several hours as I pulled off the turnpike on to U.S. Route 30 eastbound, where I would bypass the next couple of turnpike exits to avoid the tunnels. After trudging up the mountain I came to a cutoff in the road with a sign directing, "Trucks: Stop Here Before Descending." The cutoff was a chance to test their brakes and to build the air pressure up to maximum, as well as to give the breaks a rest before they would be constantly used going down the other side of the mountain. If driving a tractor-trailer is an art, the air brakes are one of the many hues and colors that make up the big picture. Unlike the hydraulic brakes on a car which respond to the touch of a foot on the pedal immediately, air brakes have a millisecond delay before responding. When a driver uses them for the first time, their lack of immediate response often causes the driver to press the brake pedal harder, resulting in the truck lurching to a stop. That sudden stop is something every newbie goes through, so much that it's almost a part of the initiation ritual to driving a truck. The art of using air brakes is so deft that truckers are required to pass both a written test and to take their actual road test on a vehicle with air brakes in order to be licensed to drive tractor-trailers. Air brakes also have a temperament of their own and, if they are overused, they actually begin to burn with a scent that is indescribable. The smell of burning brakes can so permeate your nostrils that you can "taste" the brakes. Overuse of the air brakes can also cause them to lose their pressure and become ineffective, which is why you see "emergency truck ramps" on highways along steep downhill runs. The *real* art in going down a steep grade of five percent or more is controlling your speed with a combination of using a truck's "Jake brake" (an engine retarder named after its inventor, a man named Jacobs), engine braking by using lower gears, and a light constant pressure on the brake pedal (which tends to make the brakes less hot than if you were to pump them off and on). Yet all three methods must be used, since the force of an 80,000 pounds pushing the vehicle down steep hills would otherwise cause the rig's speed to increase to an unsafe level, especially on downward hills that were several miles long at a time. Even though it's not recommended, some drivers also use their trailer brake lever to help pull the tractor back during the rig's descent; this tends to be done by company drivers who switch off trailers on a regular basis and want to keep their tractor brakes in good condition. Running Route 30, or any other mountain road that has steep hills, is truly a pain in the ass. A 30-minute portion of the run would take well over three times as long, chugging up the mountain and holding the speed back as I descended. I pulled into the truck cutoff, checked the air pressure in my brakes, then applied the parking brakes on both the tractor and trailer to give the foot brakes a rest before descending. I looked out the window and, as much as I was pissed off by having to take this damned detour because of a minimum-weight hazmat load, took in an atmosphere that was too damn beautiful to pass up without a sanity break. There were no other vehicles within sight or sound (hell, even cars were smart enough to avoid this precarious stretch of road), and I turned off the engine to take a breather before beginning my descent down the mountain. The cutoff was fairly small, big enough for only two or three rigs. It didn't have to be any bigger, since any driver not carrying a hazmat load would be smart enough to stick to the turnpike and its easier tunnels. It was a fairly hot August day, but the temperature at the top of the mountain was a good ten degrees cooler than down on the turnpike. The cutoff was on the side of the road along a forest, and the truck was shaded from the sun that had been hitting the cab on parts of the road that were more barren. As usual, I was driving bareass, and after stopping the rig in the truck cutoff I switched over to the passenger seat, opened the right-side door, and kicked up my feet to enjoy the breeze.The quiet at the top of the mountain was undisturbed by other cars or trucks, and after a few minutes, I moved back to the bed in my sleeper cab to rest up for the remainder of the trip over the mountains. I laid back and, as the cool air came through the truck, began stroking my cock in a slow, lazy manner. Even though the trip would take longer because of the hazmat detour, I had time to spare, and had the humorous thought that laying back and popping a load would make the truck a fraction of an ounce lighter going down the hill. As I was laying back and enjoying the feel of my hard cock and the juices that were beginning to churn in my balls, I heard another vehicle begin to approach from the distance. It was more than a car, but less than a tractor-trailer; I concluded that it might be a small truck, perhaps a pick-up. A minute or two later, I heard the truck pull into the cutoff, parking to my right, between my trailer and the woods. I quietly cursed the driver - probably some yahoo boondock farmer - for pulling in and disturbing the peace and quiet. At the same time, I was horny as shit by that point, and couldn't resist looking out to see who had come upon the scene. I got into the driver's seat of my cab and, using the electric mirror adjustment, positioned the mirror on the right side of my cab to see who had arrived. I caught sight of the driver getting out of his Dodge 4x4 pickup - a guy that looked to be in his mid to late 20s, about 5'11" with medium brown hair, husky although by no means fat, wearing a t-shirt and cutoff shorts. The word that came into my mind was "doable." He walked around the back of his pick-up, stood next to a tree, opened his zipper, and began to take a piss. He wasn't trying to be an exhibitionist, but as he stood sideways, I could see his ample meat releasing its flow against a large pine tree. He finished his business as I moved back to the passenger seat of my tractor, then he opened the right-side door of his truck, pulled out a beer, stood against the side of the truck and popped the can open. It was then that he looked over at my truck, as if he had seen its open right-side door for the first time, and seemed to catch my face in the large right sideview mirror. "Hey, driver, want a beer?" he called out. I leaned out of the door and said, "No, man. I can't drink when I'm driving a big rig, but thanks anyway." I didn't bother telling him that I didn't drink alcohol at all, in part because of the strict federal regulations governing commercial drivers. While states set their own standards for driving under the influence of alcohol, the federal blood alcohol concentration standard for commercial drivers of 0.04 percent is far more strict than that of any state. "Oh, okay. That's cool," he said as he began to walk toward my cab. As he approached the door, he noticed for the first time that I was sitting there naked. "Wow, man! Do you actually drive like that?" "Sure," I said, "it's a lot more comfortable hanging loose when the weather is like this, and it's a lot hotter down the mountain than it is here." "Yeah, I guess I never thought of it that way." He leaned up against a tree near my door, and I began to get the impression that this wasn't the first beer that he had that day. That was a turn-off, since I normally don't like hanging out with people who are drunk or stoned, let alone getting it on with them. It was also a concern because, though he wasn't smashed, he was obviously high enough that it would make him a dangerous driver. And here he was, drinking again while he was out with his pick-up truck. "You know, dude, if you're gonna be drinking that, you ought to hang out here for a while before you hit the road again." "Yeah, I know," he acknowledged. "It's just that I've had a bitch of a day, so I wanted to loosen up before I went home. Sometimes I just come up here to the top of the mountain just to mellow out." I couldn't help but notice that as he spoke, his eyes were drawn to my semi-erect cock. Each time he would look down, then look away as if he was afraid of being caught checking me out. I decided to take a risk and push his glance back in that direction. "I know what you mean. I've been driving all day and still have to get down this damn mountain with a big rig. I figured I'd hang out here for a while, maybe get my rocks off, and then head on out." "Yeah?" he asked. "That's what I was planning to do until I got into an argument with my girlfriend. I split her place, picked up a six-pack, and came up here instead." "Well, you can always take things into your own hands," I said as I leaned back in the seat and gave my cock one subtle stroke. "Yeah, I am kinda horny," he declared, leaving me the opening for the natural follow-up. "Well, maybe we can give each other a hand." He paused a moment as he thought about whether I was serious, then said, "Okay, what the hell," walking over to the truck. I knew that this guy was an amateur and that he had probably never gotten it on with another guy, but that he was just high enough to give it a try. As he approached the door of my cab, I stepped out to meet him. Beginning to slowly stroke my cock, I reached out and unzipped his pants, lowered his underwear - he was wearing briefs - and gently pulled his cock, which was already getting hard, out into the open. He leaned against the outside of my cab, looked down at his own meat and then at my now-hard cock. With the trepidation of someone who was obviously inexperienced with another guy, he reached out and took my rod in his hand, starting to stroke it with the same gentle rhythm I was using on him. As his dick began to get harder, he leaned back and let out a gentle moan. I continued to stroke him as I eased his shorts and underwear down toward the ground. There were two steep steps leading to the inside of my rig. As I rose, I put my foot up on the second step, exposing my balls to his view. I put my hand on his shoulder and leaned back against the open door of my cab to let him give me long, slow strokes. He couldn't take his eyes off of my meat, as if he was looking at the details of another man's cock and balls for the first time. I knew that I was making an exception to my usual rule of not getting it on with someone who had been drinking, but at this point I was horny as hell. I also knew that it was better for him to be occupied with me than to get back in his pick-up and head down the road while he was high. But I wasn't using that as a rationalization; based on his inability to take his eyes off of my hard rod, I felt that I was satisfying a curiosity that had been intrinsic in him before he ever had the argument with his girlfriend and drove up the mountain. I put my hand around his neck and gently pulled his head down toward my waiting cock. "Go ahead, man," I said, "check it out closer." "Huh?" he asked as his head moved down toward my legs. "Get a real taste for what it's like to get it on with another guy. Take it in your mouth." He followed my leading and bent down on his knees, beginning to stroke his own meat with one hand as he held my cock in the other. He was obviously taking in the scent of my crotch as he watched my rod pulsating with his strokes. As I pulled his head toward me, his mouth opened and he slowly began to lick my head and go down on my cockshaft. I began to pump his mouth, feeding him a little more of my shaft with each thrust, leaning his head backward so it would be easier for him to go down on me. It was obviously his first time sucking cock, but the tendency to gag lessened as he stroked his own meat faster, his breathing getting heavier as he worked up his load. "That's it, man," I said as I lifted his shirt higher toward his head. "Let's lose the shirt." He pulled back for a moment as I slipped his t-shirt off, then I led his head back down on my cock. "Do it," I said as I fed his eager mouth, "take it all. Make me cum right in your mouth." Any objection that he might have had was rectified by his own hard meat, which he was now beating with abandon. His moaning grew as he was about to cum, stroking me with one hand and himself with the other as his mouth continued to move up and down my shaft. I was on the edge as his body began to tense and told him, "I'm gonna shoot, man...now!" His own load shot out against my leg as my wad of jism exploded into his mouth. As I held him down on my cock, he drew himself closer to me, taking my load down in one swallow as his own cock was emptied of its juices. Out of breath, he slowly stood up and leaned back against the cab. "Looks like you could use a break," I observed. "Why don't you come on in and rest for a while?" "Yeah, I could dig that." He had never been in a tractor-trailer, so I motioned for him to get in ahead of me to make sure he wouldn't slip while climbing into the rig. Shirtless at this point, he slipped out of the shorts and underwear that were down to the ground and climbed up the steps into the cab. "Hang a left," I said, directing him back toward the sleeper. "Wow," he exclaimed, sitting on the bed, "this cab is big." I sat down next to him, moved toward the back wall, and gently pulled him down next to me. "Big *and* comfortable. Hell, man, that was a pretty intense scene out there, and it wouldn't hurt you to get some rest before you start driving again." "Shit, you're right," he said, "I *am* tired." I turned on my side and eased him onto his side, his ass up against my cock. "C'mon," I offered, "let's catch a few zzz's." With the combination of the beer he had earlier and the exhaustion that came with his intense orgasm, he easily drifted off as I held him, his neck resting on my arm. Thanks to my driving most of the day and my buddy's partiality for beer, we actually slept a few hours, waking in the early evening as the sun was beginning to go down behind us.His neck was still resting on my right arm, although he had rolled over and was laying on his stomach - a position in which I've found a fair number of supposedly straight guys like to sleep. As he nuzzled in closer, I began to massage his neck with my left hand. It was only a few minutes before I was on my knees, straddling him and massaging his back. I put some lotion on my hands and, working his neck, my hands ran down his well-developed back muscles, moving down toward his ass. Of course, I was already eyeing the tube of K-Y and condoms that I kept in the cab's bedside compartment, betting that as the massage got lower, his ass would be as hungry for sex as the rest of him. My cock was already hard by this point, nuzzling in the crack of his butt as I worked my way down his back. As I massaged his butt cheeks, I slipped on a condom. I felt the crack of his ass loosen and begin to welcome my ready cock, moving slowly into him - first the head, then the shaft. His ass muscles slowly began to flex, and it was obvious that he was working his own hard-on against the sheets. As he was straight, I didn't expect to hear him say, "Fuck me," and though he was primed to welcome my rod, he spoke no words at all as I entered his virgin ass. His ass muscles continued to relax as I moved at a slow pace, and I felt his butt rise up to welcome the rest of my advancing cock, burying it inside him. I took his hand and put some K-Y on it, saying, "Work your cock, man. I want you to get off on this, too." He reached down and started stroking his own rod as I continued to pump my meat deep into his butthole. The right-side door to the truck was still open, as was the driver's side window, creating a cross-breeze through the sleeper cab. The quiet at the top of the mountain magnified our increasingly heavy breathing as he proclaimed, "Shit, man, I never knew this could feel so fucking hot." As he stroked himself harder, his breathing became heavier. By this time, my own cock was pounding his asshole with long, deep thrusts. His breathing became even more labored as he began to shoot his load, and I felt his ass muscles tighten around my rod as my own cock began to explode inside him. I rose and straddled him once again, returning to massaging his back as he said, "Maybe I don't have to worry about getting back to my girlfriend after all." As we turned to lay on our sides, my cock still buried deep inside him, I began to hear another tractor-trailer ascend the long climb to the truck pull-off. We separated, and I stepped out of the rig to take a piss next to a nearby tree. As I stood there, I saw the edge of a Peterbilt tractor come around the final bend leading toward the top of the mountain, pulling a fuel tanker and slowing down to pull in and rest its brakes before the descent. The truck parked behind mine, and its driver watched as I made my way, still naked, back to my own rig. I heard the Peterbilt's engine turn off, and a few seconds later, footsteps began to approach my truck. My buddy from the Ford pick-up had begun to doze, and I sat on the passenger seat next to the open door enjoying the cross-breeze at the top of the hill. "How's it going," asked the tanker driver as he walked up to my open door. He was an older driver who looked to be in his early 50s, obviously fit from working a tanker and well-tanned from standing outside during fuel fills at gas stations. "Not too bad," I answered. "I'm gettin' ready to head down that damn hill there." "That's a shame," he said, seeing that I was still naked. "I thought you might want to hang back for a while." This guy was obviously looking for some action himself before descending the mountain. "Afraid I've already had my fill," I said, thinking about the third guy who was still back in my sleeper, "But I may be able to accommodate you." I stepped outside and told him about my new buddy, still asleep in my cab. "I've got him sobered up some, and think he's in need of some more action before he starts driving again." I could see the bulge in the tanker driver's jeans already beginning to grow. I climbed back into the cab and gently shook my buddy awake. "I have to head out," I said, "but there's someone here I want you to meet." We shook hands outside the truck, looking at each other in a way that there was no need for words. He had just been introduced to man sex, fucked for the first time, and knew that our scene at the top of the hill would be a special one regardless of what he or I did in the future. As he began to walk back toward the tanker with the newly arrived driver, I knew that my friend from the Ford pick-up would be spending a lot of time at the top of the hill. I started my engine as they got into the truck at my rear, watched my airbrakes charge up, and began the long trek down the mountain and back to the turnpike, ready for new adventures.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/7790.txt

marmot

The Long Ride

"Mommy, are we there yet?" "No, and don't ask again," came the somewhat irritable reply. The station wagon wound another of those exciting hairpin turns. At least 9-year-old Bobby Wilkins found them exciting. He was excited about everything today. Going to a new place to live, in a new state even, and up in the mountains, even! "Mommy, do you think we'll see any deer?" "Not in the daytime, and would you please be quiet!" Mommy didn't like hairpin turns and didn't seem to like much else today. Bobby looked up at the most beautiful woman in the world. Today, those warm brown eyes, usually so comforting, looked worried. The corners of her mouth turned downward. "Mommy, will you be happy when we get there?" "Yes, but you won't be happy for a long time if you say another word." She said that in the matter-of-fact tone that Bobby knew from experience meant he would probably be spanked if he said anything else. He didn't want that at all; his bottom was still sore from this morning. He would be quiet. "Mommy, I have to go potty." There was no answer, of course, because Bobby didn't say it aloud. Instead, he crossed his legs and tried to think of something else. He looked out the window, hoping to see deer. All he saw was a cornfield, with an irrigation machine spraying millions of gallons of water over it. "Mommy, I have to go potty." He almost said that aloud, but as he opened his mouth, he saw that angry-sad look in Mommy's face that showed she was thinking about Dad again. Last time Bobby asked when they would be together again, Mommy said, "when your father gets on his knees and kisses my rear and begs me to take him back." Bobby wished that would happen. "Mommy, I have to go potty!" The words were almost out of his mouth when the car rounded another hairpin turn, a little too fast, and the road dipped sharply. Bobby held on for dear life, and in his distraction, started to wet. Before he thought about stopping himself, his short pants were soaked, and pee was running down his legs. "Bobby, what's the matter, honey?" At first, all Barbara noticed was the boy's sniffling and the tears trickling down his cheeks. Then, with some alarm, she noted the cause of his distress. She pulled the car off the road, beside a roadside picnic table. She was in a difficult mood to begin with, and this definitely did not help matters. "Bobby, why didn't you tell me you had to go!?" "I don't know!" the boy sobbed. Barbara got out of the car and stalked angrily to the passenger side. Opening the door, she unfastened the seat belt and roughly pulled her son from the car, standing him on his quivering, wet legs. He was a picture of fear and misery. "And soon to be much more miserable," she thought. "Damn it, Bobby, look at you! Even your shirt is wet! How could you be so thoughtless?" She was holding the boy's shoulders as she spoke. When he didn't answer, she placed him, not at all gently, on the picnic table. "Well, you just sit here whilst I clean up your mess, then we'll take care of you!" Bobby sat there sobbing, his wet shorts cold against his legs. "I should have said something earlier," he thought. His mother was bending over, scrubbing the seat with a rag, wetted with water from the bottle she always had in the car. Her rear was quite pretty, and if he was Dad, he wouldn't mind kissing it. By the time she had finished scrubbing the car, Barbara had calmed down. It seemed Bobby had too; now he looked simply anxious and sad instead of terrified. Barbara felt her heart beating with maternal love for her little boy. "Still, we cannot have any more of this," she thought. She stood over the boy. "All right, Bobby, care to explain?" As there was no answer from the frightened lad, she continued. "Very well then. What happened is that you had an accident. You had to go, but didn't say anything, so you wet yourself. Now, Bobby, you are almost 10 years old, and you know better. We don't want any more accidents in the future, do we, dear one?" "No, Mommy." He was a little more calm, looking up at this sympathetic figure. "If I spank you, you will remember to tell Mommy so you don't wet yourself." Barbara stroked his tear-streaked face. "You do want to remember to tell Mommy, don't you?" "Yes, Mommy," came the somewhat fearful reply. "Here now, let's get these awful wet things off," Barbara said, lifting off his shirt. She gently laid her son back on the picnic table, removed his sneakers and wet socks. Then, she lifted his lower half with one hand and removed shorts and undies with the other. All this time, she looked in his eyes and murmured comforts. "Now, this will hurt a lot," she said in that same comforting, maternal tone. "But it's for the best." She lifted her son's damp naked body from the table and, sitting down on the bench, gently placed him across her ample lap. Barbara felt her little boy's body tense in anticipation of what was to come. Bobby was scared, but not as much as before. Mommy was always so loving and nice, even when she had to spank. Just the same, he couldn't relax. He knew what was going to happen next. He tried not to cry, because it was baby. But he sniffled when she laid her hand on his bottom, and even before the first blow landed, he was weeping aloud. WHAP! The first spank on his damp bottom hurt bad! WHAP!! WHAP!! WHAP!! It was awful, and Bobby knew it was just starting! WHAP-WHAP-WHAP-WHAP-WHAP!! Bobby's sobs turned to wails, and then to screams as the spanking began in earnest. He was kicking his legs helplessly as spank after awful spank landed on his sore bottom. Bobby's screams turned to one long wail. His bottom went from hot and painful to fiery and awful, awful pain! He wailed pitifully as Mommy's big hand came down again and again, covering his whole bottom with each dreadful spank. Finally, Bobby was exhausted and just lay there crying and getting spanked. With a practiced ear, Barbara listened for her son's angry screams to turn to the weeping that for him accompanied genuine sorrow. Then she added a few more spanks to rub the lesson in. When she picked him up off her lap, her little one was trembling and weeping, but did not rub his bottom nor do anything else defiant. Mommy hugged Bobby to her large bosom. His legs were too trembly to stand; she let him sit on her lap, and stroked his head as he wept weakly into her bosom. She told him gently that she loved him, and that she wanted him to ask Mommy for permission when he had to go, and that he was never to wet himself ever again. "Now, dearest, why don't we get you cleaned up, so we can go to our new home?" Mommy said brightly. She led Bobby back to the car. The sun had dried and warmed his seat, and Mommy sat down on it and took another rag. She washed Bobby off thoroughly from his chest to his ankles, teasing him about making so much pee. Then Mommy dried Bobby off with her soft blue skirt, even brushing off the pebbles and sand that clung to the bottoms of his feet. Bobby's penis was hard by the time she was finished washing and drying him. Mommy cuddled Bobby for a while in the car, gently squeezing and rubbing his penis, and kissed his forehead after he got shivery. Barbara put clean underpants on her son, but refused him any other clothes. "I want you to remember your lesson today," she said "so you can't wear clothes until I say." Her well-trained little boy gave not one word of complaint. His soft hug and submissive "yes, Mommy" was more than enough reward for today's trouble. They drove off in the late afternoon sun, and Mommy pointed out to Bobby the deer feeding in the meadow.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/17166.txt

Clayton

Clayton's Children - The Babysitter

"I said I was going to suck your cock and drink it all," Alison grins up at me from between my legs, silhouetted against the curtained window by the first chill light of the dawn. Her tight little fist continues the slow pumping action that had awoken me. "What about Rene?" I ask, not yet sure that she should be joining our games. "Don't worry about her, she's still asleep," Alison reassures me, even as she leans forwards and engulfs the head of my prick in her warm, wet mouth. Something about her answer leaves me feeling uneasy, but the sensation of her lips being forced open by the turgid, purple crown of my cock leaves little room for thinking. She sucks on it like a baby for a couple of seconds, then pulls free with a sloppy, wet, sucking slurp. With her fingertips lightly digging into the top of my cock, she resumes sliding the skin sheathing my shaft up and down jerkily. Then once again, she forces the soft tight ring of her lips down over my swollen glans. Somehow or other, the inexperience of her cock sucking and the knowledge that it's her first time excite me even more than a more talented attack on my prick would do. Groaning with the imminence of my release, I open my eyes to see *RENE* crouched between my thighs, with my prick in her tiny hands and her small red lips surrounding the head as she licks the tip. Even as my mind screams at the wrongness of this, my balls pulse powerfully, and with an incredible burning spasm, I pump a massive surge of semen into her warm, wet mouth. Surprised by the sudden eruption in her mouth, her head jerks upwards, and her eyes meet mine. Immediately, she freezes, an obscene drool of jism dripping from the corner of her parted lips. She does not even seem to notice the hot, searing splashes on her cheeks, chin, and lips as my prostate empties my balls into her face. Over and over again, my loins spasm, endlessly draining my seed to coat her tiny, perfect features with my viscous, creamy ejaculate. Finally, an eternity later, the fountaining jets become a slow upwelling that seeps from the bloated tip of my shaft to oozes down the sides and over her diminutive fists.Together, Alison and I lap the salty cocktail from Rene's little face, relishing every obscene droplet with noisy slurps and smackings of our lips. "Feeling better?" I ask the squirming, giggling bundle in my arms, when we have collected every last dribble of tears, semen, and even little girl snot. "Yes, stop," she giggles, trying to hide her face and avoid our darting tongues. "Oops, missed a bit," I say and lift her up to lick at a small dribble between her tiny nipples, then blow a raspberry on each minuscule point. "Oooh, stop, I'm going to wet myself," she squeals. "Really?" I ask and blow another raspberry in her belly button. "Oooh, stop, I need to go real bad," she squeaks. "Let's go then," I say, pushing Alison aside and rolling from the bed with a squirming Rene tucked under my arm. I take two steps towards the door and feel the chafing of my jocks, which Rene had tucked under my balls. "Uh, Alison," I ask, "could you fix my undies?" Instead of unhooking them, she giggles and pulls them down my legs to my ankles. "There," she says. Stepping from them, I quickly carry Rene into the toilet and set her on the floor. Even as she reaches for her knickers, she squeaks and a small wet patch blossoms between her legs. "Help," she pleads. Laughing, I flip down the seat and lift her onto it. "I want to watch you pee your knickers," I say, closing my hands over hers when she tries to tug them off. "That's naughty," she giggles, as I lift her up onto the seat. Another spurt of pee escapes and further dampens the crotch panel of her knickers. "Okay, here it comes." The tightly woven fabric of her knickers briefly bulges outwards between her legs, and the stain spreads, turning the thin cotton cloth transparent and molding it to the smooth hairless flesh of her plump pussy lips. A second later, it trickles over her buttocks and dribbles into the bowl. As soon as the first urgent pulse of urine leaves her body, she stops the flow and asks, "Help me like you did before?" Smiling inwardly at the transparency of her request, I push the damp cloth of her knickers to one side and part her glistening little lips, watching as she begins to play with the flow of her pee. With little grunts, she stops and starts the flow, slows it to a trickle, then squirts it out with such force that she farts noisily. This makes her giggle so much that my finger slips into her slit and covers her pouting urethral opening. Suddenly, piss sprays everywhere, back over her vaginal entrance, up over her clit, and into my face and onto the insides of her thighs. She stiffens and goes suddenly silent, cutting off the stream in mid-flow, but when I don't pull back and instead gently massage the tiny opening, she relaxes and another shower results before I get my finger out of the way. Moving it to the tiny pink button a bare half inch away, I tease it in gentle circles, feeling it swell under my ministrations, as I let the remainder of her flow trickle over the rest of my fingers. "Do you always help girls pee like that?" Alison's voice asks from the doorway, making me jump. "No, but it's fun when I do. Isn't it?" I answer, turning towards her. For the first time, I notice that all she is wearing is a tiny pair of knickers that are little more than a strip of almost transparent cloth held in place by elastic strings. Her little finger and thumb poke out on either side of that narrow strip as the other three fingers work in slow circles at the top of her slit. "Yeah," she giggles, as Rene looks on, half scared, half amazed. "What did she mean, 'help like before'?" I help Rene down from the seat and lift it to take care of my own pressing needs as I explain how she had wet the bed and I had hypnotized her into peeing for me earlier. I finish by saying, "I think she just likes it when I touch her pussy." "Out of the way!" she yelps, as I give the customary three shakes, "You made me want to do it now." Crowding me aside, she slaps the seat back down with a rifle-like crack and wrenches her knickers down, even as she backs onto the pedestal and sits down. Then safe from accidents, she turns a slightly strained, ingenuous smile on me, "Help me please?" Rene looks on in wide-eyed fascination as I kneel in front of her sister, finish pulling her knickers off, and force her legs out to their widest extent. Then, deciding to put on a good show for Rene, I slip two fingers into the glistening hole at the base of her big sister's slit. Alison squeaks at the sudden intrusion, then grins at me as she squirts a quick spurt of golden pee into the palm of my hand. At the same time, she brings one hand down over her belly and toys with the solid pea-sized bump of her clitoris. I begin to slowly pump my fingers in and out of her tight, young vagina as she lets her scalding hot pee slowly trickle into the palm of my hand and over my fingers. Within seconds, she begins to gasp for breath, and her hips rock in time to my fingers within her vagina. Grasping her engorged clit between thumb and forefinger, she begins to squeeze and tug on it, her movements quickly getting rougher as she rapidly approaches climax. Her other hand comes down, seizes my wrist, and moves my fingers faster and faster within her tight, clasping sheath. Losing control of her bladder, she sprays the remainder of her piss into my hand as her lips draw back in a snarl, and a short, savage climax rips through her. Back arched, she begins to slip from the seat, driving herself down onto my fingers as she emits a series of short, sobbing cries. "Stop it! Stop it! You're hurting her!" Rene cries, beating on my back with her tiny fists. Taking hold of my wrist, she tries to pull my fingers from her sister's body, but as my hand is just about all that is supporting Alison, her efforts are futile. Quickly recovering from her orgasm, Alison begins to giggle. "No, Rene, it's all right," she says, pulling herself off my fingers and back onto the seat. She catches her sister's tiny fists in her hands as Rene goes back to hitting me. "It's okay, Rene, he wasn't hurting me, he was making me feel really, really good." "Really?" she asks, turning her eyes to her sister. "Really," Alison answers, repeating herself for emphasis, "Really." "I'm sorry I hit you, Greg," Rene turns her penitent little face to me, "I thought you were hurting Alison." "It's okay," I tell her, "You were just protecting your sister. I wouldn't blame you if you'd hit me with a rolling pin." "Speaking of protecting sisters," Alison says, "How come your sperm was all over Rene's face anyway?" "He didn't do it!" Rene exclaims, leaping to my defense. "I made it happen." "Come on, let's get cleaned up first, and then we'll talk about it in bed, where it's warm," I say, ushering Rene ahead of me into the bathroom. I fill the basin with warm, soapy water and pause with the cloth in my hand to inspect Rene. From a point just above where her little slit begins, a dark stain disappears all the way down between her thigh, the soaking wet fabric tightly molded to and clearly outlining her juvenile mons. Under my close scrutiny, she blushes, the flush covering her from her forehead down to her tiny little nipples. Clasping her hands in the small of her back, she pushes her hips forwards, bringing her little pussy into even greater relief. "I'm gonna wet my knickers next time," Alison declares, "That looks really rude." Giggling, Rene brings a hand around to the front and readjusts her undies, pulling the leg bands together and drawing them up into her slit. "Fix my knickers, please," she says, the shy tone of her voice belied by the giggle that follows. Kneeling, I slip my finger beneath the fabric and rub my knuckle up and down her slit several times, smoothing out the gusset of her knickers and finally settling it over her mound with a pat. I then smooth the air bubbles from beneath the fabric and firmly drag my finger along the full length of her slit, forcing the wet cloth up into her crack. "It looks like she doesn't have any knickers on at all," Alison giggles, crouching to look closely at her baby sister's little pussy. "I wanna see," Rene says, hunching over to look. However, as she bends, the fabric wrinkles, spoiling the effect. "Lift me up so I can look in the mirror," she orders. Dropping the cloth in the basin, I put my hands under her arms and lift her to stand astride the sink. Insinuating my hand between her legs from behind, I use my fingers to push the fabric of her knickers back into her cleft and smooth it over her mound. "Look at me," the happy little girl giggles, "I'm a rudie nudie. Can I take them off now, they feel yucky?" Laughing, I lift her and stand her in the sink full of warm water. Slipping my fingers under the waistband, I slowly draw them down, turning them inside out on her legs. She squeaks and gives a little wiggle of her hips when the fabric finally pulls free of the tight clasp of her glistening pussy lips, and as I draw them further down her legs, she scratches at her slit, distractedly lifting her feet one at a time for me to remove her knickers. Tossing the wet fabric aside, I take up the cloth and carefully wash her flat little chest and down over her belly, making her giggle as I give her protruding belly button a quick squeeze. Working lower, I have to clean around her finger, which is still softly stroking back and forth over her clit. Moving around to the back, I wipe off her little bottom, then separating her buttocks, I run the cloth back and forth over her little pink pucker a few times, making her giggle again and push back against my finger. As her legs seem to be weakening, I quickly wipe them down and lift her to the floor. Taking the towel held out by Alison, I briskly rub Rene dry, finally dislodging her finger from her slit as I dry it. "My turn."Alison says, and I look up to see her climbing onto the side of the bath and from there onto the vanity. Wrapping Rene in the towel, I get up and apply the cloth to Alison's bulging mons. "No, do it properly," she says, pulling my hand up to her neck. As I begin to wipe down her torso, she pushes a finger into her slit and slowly works it back and forth. With slow strokes, I carefully wash her tiny breasts, gently tweaking her hard little nipples and teasingly moving away as she leans into my hand. Sliding the cloth lower, I wipe back and forth over her taut little belly, making her squeal with laughter as I push a finger into her navel and wriggle it back and forth. Then, as I approach her mons, she brings her other hand to her pussy and stretches her labia apart, inviting me to thoroughly wash inside her slit. Moaning as my cloth-covered fingers pass over her clit, she presses down against my hand and rocks her hips back and forth. She squeaks in outrage as I lightly swat her rhythmically clenching buttocks, but she ceases the motion and lifts up off my hand. Bringing the cloth around to the back, I find her waiting with her buttocks already obscenely parted, the crinkled dimple between them winking at me in the mirror. Chuckling, I drag the cloth along the full length of her arse crack, but skip over her puckered anus and continue down her legs. "O.K., that's it," I say. "No, it's not. You didn't wash my bottom properly," she replies accusingly. "What?" I pretend shock. "You want me to touch your bum hole?" "Yeah," she giggles, turning and thrusting her bum out so far that her cheek presses against the mirror. Grinning, I bring the cloth back to her little pink rosebud and give it a thorough washing, making her wriggle and push back against the rough cloth. "O.K., that's it this time," I say, bringing the cloth down on her bottom with a wet slap. Ignoring her outraged expression, I drop the cloth and lift her down. I grab another towel, but before I can cocoon Alison in it, she snatches the cloth from my fingers and cleans the drying semen from my dangling member and balls. She then scrubs at the wiry tuft of hair at the base of my belly. When she's finished, she tosses the cloth aside and takes up a towel to dry me. By the time she's done with me, my cock has risen to attention, and after bestowing a quick kiss and wicked flick of her tongue on its shiny purple crown, she pats herself dry. Scooping Rene into my arms, I allow Alison to take hold of my rigid shaft and lead me back to her mother's bedroom. "Now," I say, "once I'm snuggled up between the two girls, with my fingers tucked between their legs and lightly brushing the outsides of their hairless, little mounds, let's see if we can find out why I woke up with my cock in Rene's mouth. Rene, why were you playing with my penis this morning?" "B'cause I saw Alison doing it to you last night. But you already squirted, b'cause she was licking her hands and then she licked and sucked your penis. It surprised me when it squirted. Are you mad at me b'cause I didn't go to sleep?" "No, I guess not," I reassure her. "But you know, you really shouldn't spy on people like that. And if you think my penis surprised you, well, you REALLY surprised me. I thought it was a dream." "Did you like it?" "Yeah, it was great. I just wish I'd been awake to feel it for longer. But then again, I probably would have made you stop, because it's not something little girls like you should do." I blithely ignore the fact that even 'big' girls, like her sister, shouldn't be doing it either. "Can I do it again?" she asks. "I didn't get a very good taste last time." "Yeah, since you've already done it once, I guess you can do it again." "Goody!" she squeals, squirming down under the sheets. "Hang on a sec," I say, hauling her back out. "There's plenty of time for that later. Now, what else did you see?" "Nufing, you got up and I ran back to bed and fell asleep. Can I have a taste now?" "In a minute, my penis needs a bit of a rest first. Would you like me help you to feel good too?" I ask, diddling her tiny clit. "You're already making me feel good," she says, opening her legs to give me more access to her pussy. "I mean really good like Alison," I say. "Really, you'll put your fingers in me and everything?" she asks, a little apprehensively. "Well, you're a bit too small for that," I say. "I was thinking about tickling your crack some more and kissing and licking it too." "But that's where I piddle from," she says, her face screwing up in a little moue of disgust. "Well, I pee from my penis," I point out to her. "Besides, we just washed your crack, so it's nice and clean." "Oh yeah," she says in realization. "And I am too big enough. See?" She takes hold of my hand and holds onto my thumb as she folds my fingers into a fist. She then gives my thumb a quick suck, wetting it with her saliva, then lifts her bum up and guides my thumb towards the seeping entrance to her tiny vagina. Thinking that the best way for her to find out that it won't fit is to let her try, I offer her no resistance. Alison echoes my surprised gasp as the tip of my thumb slips easily into the snuggest, warmest, little cavity I've ever encountered. Afraid that she's going to hurt herself, pushing me through her hymen, I try to resist her, but she holds tight and pushes her hips at me, fully impaling herself on my thumb. "See," she says triumphantly. "Ah, yes, I see," I whisper. "Now, what happened to your hymen?" "What's that?" she asks curiously as she slowly fucks herself with my thumb. "It's a little piece of skin up inside your vagina that should have stopped my thumb going in," I explain. "Oh, that," she says. "I pushed my hairbrush through it, like Jenny told Alison to." "How do you know about that?" Alison half yells, turning on her sister. Rene's little vagina spasms around my thumb as she jerks in fear. She huddles against me, reverting to a baby-like lisp as she tries to explain, "You voodn't let me play wif you, so I sneaked in an' hid under ve bed. Ven you closed ve door, so I vas stuck." I give Alison a warning look when she opens her mouth to yell at her little sister, and she closes it with a snap, opening it again to apologize, "It's O.K., I guess Rene. I'm not really mad at you, but that was private and you shouldn't have been listening." "I know vat. But I couldn't get out and I knew you'd yell at me." "Yeah, I would have," Alison admits. "I would have been scared you'd tell Mama." "I can keep secrets!" Rene says indignantly. "I didn't tell about Jenny!" "Yes, you're a good girl," Alison soothes her sister. "You can keep secrets really good. You're not going to tell Mama about this either, are you?" "No way, Greg would get in twuble, and I wuv him ever so much," she declares, hugging me fiercely. "And I love you too," I say, letting go of Alison and hugging Rene tight. "What about me?" Alison cries indignantly. I wrap my arm back around her and hug her against me. "You too, I love all of my little girls," I say, kissing her upturned face. Hungrily, she seeks out my lips, opening hers to me and eagerly accepting my tongue into her mouth. I ardently explore the smooth sweet interior of her young mouth, tracing the line of her teeth, the insides of her teeth, playfully pinning her tongue, and allowing her to pin mine in return. A moment later, she crowds my tongue out and darts hers into my mouth, flickering lively over my teeth and the tip of my tongue. Hollowing my cheeks, I suck on the mobile little member, swirling my tongue around the tip. When we part, Rene, who had been looking on with wide-eyed interest, eagerly asks, "Me too?" "Sure," I reply, making her squeak as I extract my thumb from the warm, tight embrace of her slick little vagina. I lift her to straddle my lap, with her tiny hairless pussy pressed against the underside of my rigid shaft. Lowering my lips to her tiny upturned face, I plant small nibbling kisses all over her perfect, diminutive features. Sweeping her hair back with my hand, I softly kiss her brow, making her giggle. Shushing her, I kiss each of her tiny, perfect eyelids, feeling them quiver under my touch. Then, starting just in front of her dainty, little ears, I trace the line of her cheekbone, stopping to engulf her tiny button nose and lightly nip the tip with my teeth. Again, she giggles, hunching her shoulders, but not pulling away. I flick my tongue over the tip, to help her get used to the idea of tongues being involved, then finish tracing her cheekbone to her ear. Coming back, I trail along the line of her tiny jaw, then as I open my own jaw wide to engulf the point of her chin, I realize just how tiny my young lover is, as I cover most of the lower half of her face with my lips. Closing my mouth a little, I quickly nip the point of her chin and pass on to her other ear. Then, unable to resist the temptation, I give the tiny pink shell a broad wet lick, making her squeal and wriggle delightfully against my cock. She too notices the enchanting sensations emanating from her diminutive pussy and grinds it against the underside of my cock, making me pull my head back and gasp. She giggles at my reaction and hooks her feet behind my back, pulling herself harder against me. Because my back is getting sore from my hunching down to reach her face, I cup her tiny bottom in one hand and lift her, until I can press my lips to hers comfortably. At that height, the sensitive underside of my glans presses against her slit, just over her little clit.Though tempted to lift her that final inch or so, that would place my cock at the entrance to her tiny vagina and see if more than my thumb will fit, I restrain myself, knowing that the incredibly tight fit and the thought of entering one so young would have me shooting before I was properly bottomed out in her tiny five-year-old body. Wanting her first time to be the best that I can possibly give her, I hold her as she is and barely parting my lips, I draw one then the other of hers between them, flicking my tongue against the soft, moist skin. I pull back a little to look into her soft, trusting eyes, then tilting my head to the side, I press my parted lips against hers and lick them until they part to allow the entry of my tongue. At first, her teeth resist me, and I lick over them and her gums, but as she gets used to the sensation of a strange tongue within her mouth, she opens them and meets my tongue with hers. As our lips part further, I find it a little difficult to adjust to the tiny size of her mouth, and I end up engulfing the lower half of her face from her nose to her chin. She giggles delightfully into my mouth, and I adjust the fit of my lips to hers and try again. More successful this time, I slip my tongue between her lip and her tiny sharp teeth to taste the sweet glory of this tiny preschooler's mouth. At first, her little tongue lies limp and unresponsive in her mouth, but as I prod it with the tip of mine, it wakes up and presses back against me, quickly learning to swirl about the tip of mine. With little prodding flicks, I withdraw my tongue from her tiny honeyed mouth, inviting hers to follow and taste me. Hesitantly at first, but quickly becoming bolder, her little tongue passes my lips and flicks over my teeth, then between them to poke teasingly at my tongue. When I try to pin it against the roof of my mouth, it withdraws in a flash only to return flirtatiously a moment later. This time I hold my tongue curled back against the roof of my mouth, and the tip of her tongue finds the soft underside of mine. Kittenishly, she pulls back, then returns to explore further. When I do nothing, she becomes more daring, and presses against the smooth wet flesh. Feeling devilish, I suddenly release my tongue to slap down on top of hers, and she pulls it back with a giggling, squeak. I return my tongue to her mouth and find hers waiting to give mine the same treatment. I feel her lips tighten slightly in a smile and pull back just in time, hearing her tongue clack against the floor of her mouth. Darting back in quickly, I pin her tongue down with mine. In response, she gently closes her lips around my tongue and sucks on it like a baby, slowly pulling back until she can look into my eyes mischievously, with a final tiny nip like I'd given her nose, she pulls free and grins at me roguishly. I return the grin with interest and snap playfully at the tip of her nose. Squealing happily, she weaves and ducks her head as I continue to snap my teeth in her face. After a few seconds of this, I lower her back to my lap and bring my hands up to trap her head between them and making loud munching noises, I slowly close on her, as she squeals in mock fear and struggles weakly. Opening my mouth to its widest extent, I engulf her mouth and nose and munch loudly as I pretend to eat her face. Then pulling back, I drag my tongue over her madly giggling face, in a broad, wet lick from her chin to her brow, making her squeal in shocked outrage. Beside us, Alison rolls on the bed hugging herself and giggling insanely at her little sister's shocked expression. Releasing Rene, I lunge at her wildly giggling sister and start tickling unmercifully. Then holding her out flat, I cover every square inch of her squirming body with sloppy wet licks and zoobers. A moment later, Rene, having scrubbed her face dry, joins in, driving Alison to redouble her efforts to escape. Only when she warns of an impending flood do we relent. I finish with a final resounding and very wet zoober to the top of her pussy, making her gasp, and sit back on my heels waiting for her to recover. With great shuddering gasps, she draws breath back into her body and rolls over, scrubbing her front against the sheet. (Oh well, I was going to have to wash them anyway.) Then with a wild yell, she leaps at me and knocks me over backwards. Calling for aid from Rene, she sits on my hips and begins to tickle me. Not being very ticklish, or at least not where she's trying, I calmly accept her digging fingers, smiling beatifically up at her, even as Rene starts in on my feet. Frustrated by my lack of response, their fingers range farther afield, searching for a sensitive spot that might get a reaction out of me. Finally, they give up, and Alison says to her sister, "Watch this, this'll make him jump." She then slides down onto my legs and takes hold of my cock, pointing it at the ceiling. Then rising onto her knees, she fits the bulbous tip at the entrance to her pussy and sits down hard, gasping as my bloated member shoulders the warm, velvety walls of her vagina apart. She lets out a muffled yelp of discomfort as I do indeed jump, slamming my hips upwards and driving the last two inches of my shaft into her and jamming the engorged glans up against her cervix. "I wanna try that too!" Rene cries, trying to tug her sister from me. "You can't, you're too little," Alison says, slowly rotating her hips and making me groan at the incredible sensation of her cervix brushing over the sensitive tip of my cock. "I can too!" Rene declares heatedly, "Watch this." The indignant little preschooler rolls from the bed and stomps over to her mother's wardrobe. With a grunt, she pulls out the bottom drawer. She then fumbles around the floor of the wardrobe for a few seconds, emerging with a piece of timber that obviously forms a false floor. Reaching into the cavity that she has revealed, she pulls out a briefcase and brings it over to the bed. Keeping Alison impaled on my cock, I sit up to see what Rene has got. Smiling triumphantly, the little girl flips up the lid to reveal an incredible array of dildos and vibrators. The smallest a little more than half the size of the cock buried in Alison's guts and the largest as long as my forearm and as thick as my wrist, with an angry purple fist-sized glans at the end. A lifelike pink, it is finished with grotesque blue veins, which at a point about halfway along its length, spell out the name 'Mr Big'. Taking the smallest, Rene wets it in her mouth and lying back on the bed, with her feet towards us, she parts her legs and pushes almost the entire ivory shaft into her vagina, as her flabbergasted sister and I watch in amazement. A moment later, she pulls the dildo free and discards it, reaching for the next of the eight toys in the case, a smooth hot pink plastic phallus a little smaller than my cock, with a sketchily sculpted tip. She wets it by licking up and down the length of the shaft and then with no more effort than she showed taking the first, she pushes just over half of it home before coming up against her cervix. Then cupping both hands over the base, she pulls it further into her body, a strained look on her face. Suddenly her cervix gives way, and her hands slap against her mound. When she takes her hands away, less than an inch of shocking pink plastic remains visible outside her obscenely splayed labia. The next is a vibrator, a perfectly smooth, pure white cylinder of hard plastic, slightly slimmer than the last and about seven inches long, with a sharply tapered wedge-shaped tip. After wetting it, she slips it inside herself and with only the briefest of pauses forces the tip through her cervix and into her womb, not stopping until the knurled base is all that protrudes from her obscenely distended pussy. The fourth is also a vibrator, lifelike, eight inches long and nearly two inches in diameter. For the first time, her face screws up as she strains to get the head into her vagina, but with a little grunt, manages it and embeds about half of the thick shaft before bottoming out against her cervix. Alison sits unmoving in my, watching in wide-eyed amazement as her tiny five-year-old sister pulls the vibrator free and reaches for the next, even thicker, sex toy. About the same length as the last, this dildo is made of a firm, resilient, bright yellow rubber. From the base to within two inches of the smooth bullet-shaped tip, it is textured with small ridges every quarter of an inch or so. With a tiny grunt, she pushes it in until the first ridge rests against her massively stretched vaginal opening. Then wrapping both hands about the base, she pulls it deeper, grunting as each ridge stretches her and pops into her hugely distended vagina. Up until now, she has shown no real signs of arousal, but has simply been demonstrating to us just how accommodating her little vagina is, but when she withdraws this latest toy, she squeaks excitedly as her vagina reluctantly releases each ridge. At the same time, she massages her tiny clit with the fingers of her right hand, pushing it down into contact with the withdrawing ridges. Oddly though, as she seems to approach a climax, she stops playing with her clitoris and waits a few seconds before removing the dildo and discarding it. She skips the next toy in the case, because although longer than the last, it is no thicker. Instead, she reaches for the last, bar 'Mr Big'. Lifelike in form, if not size, this massive ebony shaft is over a foot long and nearly two and a half inches in diameter. This time instead of wetting it with her tongue, she takes a tube of KY jelly from the case and carefully squeezes out an inch-long noodle onto her fingers, with which she painstakingly coats the head and first few inches of the shaft.After carefully recapping the tube of jelly, she slips from the bed and rests the butt of the huge fake negro cock on the floor. Then, positioning herself over it, she holds her pussy lips apart and squats until the grotesque bulb on the end presses against her vaginal entrance. At first contact, Alison gasps, and I turn my head to look at her slack-jawed profile. Her eyes are almost popping from her head, and a thick strand of saliva drools unnoticed from the corner of her slack mouth, running from her chin to her chest. Feeling my gaze on her, she manages to regain control of her mouth to whisper "No way!" before it falls back open, and she turns back to her sister. Inside my head, a tiny little voice screams at me to stop this before Rene hurts herself, whereas a much stronger voice clamors to see if this tiny preschooler is indeed able to accomplish the impossible. The big voice wins, and holding Alison against me, I lie down with my head hanging over the edge of the bed and my nose only inches from the point where the glistening bulb topping the shaft parts her fat little labia; labia made even tinier by their proximity to the huge imitation cock. Taking a few deep breaths, Rene steadies herself with one hand on my forehead and allows more and more of her weight to fall on the obscene shaft beneath her. Grimacing, she works her hips in tiny circles as I watch the lips of her pussy stretch and whiten with the strain. Ever so slowly, I watch her tiny vulva stretch and stretch, and incredibly, stretch some more, until with a deep grunt, she seems to fall two inches as the tremendous black glans enters her body with a rush. Groaning and continuing to move her hips in a circle, Rene works another two inches of the thick ebony shaft into her body, then pushes herself upright. Taking a wobbling step backwards, she puts her hands on her hips and proudly thrusts her obscenely bulging pudenda forwards, grunting as the injudicious move makes the colossal shaft dangling from her body sway back and forth, the embedded tip visibly moving beneath her swollen mound. "Beat that!" she crows, directing a slightly strained grin at her gaping sister. "Okay, I will," Alison declares hotly, "Just as soon as I finish here." Lifting herself up until only my glans remains within her, she pauses briefly until she is sure her sister's eyes are on her, then drops back down, taking the entire length of my shaft in one swift, squelching movement. Then, satisfied that she has Rene's full attention, she slowly slides up and down the full length of my cock. Within seconds, though, the sensations of her velvety little snatch caressing my rod, coming on top of Rene's obscene show, become too much for me, and seizing her hips, I begin pumping her up and down, masturbating myself with her tiny body as I rapidly approach a climax. Only seconds later, my balls empty themselves into her tiny pre-teen twat, my semen coursing through my cock like lava to fill and overfill her clasping fuck tube. As I continue to pound her body up and down, my semen begins to leak down around my pulsing shaft, matting my pubic hair in a thick gooey froth. Finally, though, my climax ends, and I fall back as Alison takes over, bouncing on my cock seeking her own release, but it is not to be, my rapidly shrinking cock slips from her vagina, releasing a sticky white flood that trickles down around my balls as she futilely tries to stuff it back into her body. Then, giving in to the inevitable, she rolls from my lap and reaches for the vibrators. Eschewing the others, she picks up the slim white seven-incher and goes to insert it into her pussy. "Wipe it off first," I tell her, "it's got fluff on it." Before I can stop her, she grabs a corner of the sheet and wipes the hard plastic shaft clean. (Another reason to wash them.) Then, propping herself up on her elbow, she drives the slim tapered head into her vagina and begins pumping it in and out, striving for the release that had been denied her. With my eyes on Alison, I don't notice Rene until I feel her tongue on my balls, lapping up my cream like a little kitten. As I look down at her crouching over my groin with that thick black phallus still protruding obscenely from her grossly overstretched vulva, she moves up to the wiry mat of my pubic hair, not stopping until my groin is free of every last sticky strand of semen. "Mmmm, that was nice," she says, crawling up over my body to plant a sweet kiss, tasting of me and her sister, on my lips. "But how come it tasted different this time?" "Because it had your sister's pussy juice mixed with it," I reply. "You mean from inside her hole?" the tiny five-year-old asks, her voice comically filled with disgust. "Yeah," I laugh, "Tastes good, doesn't it? Want some more?" I reach over to where Alison lies panting, her body twitching with the after-effects of her orgasm. Slipping my hand between her legs, I extract the slim white shaft from her glistening vulva and bring it close to Rene's tiny face, grinning as she recoils slightly from the slimy cylinder of plastic. Her nose wrinkles briefly in disgust, then as the intoxicating odor reaches her, she tentatively reaches out with her tongue and takes a small taste. A moment later, she smiles broadly and, seizing my wrist in case I try to take this new treat away from her, she quickly licks the entire shaft clean. "That was yummy," she informs me with a giggle and turns to watch her sister. Recovered from her orgasm, Alison has taken up the lifelike eight-incher and, after cleaning it, she presses the thick bulbous head between her legs and shoves. She grunts loudly in discomfort as the head begins to pull her smooth hairless labia into her body with it, forcing her to stop. Lying back, she holds her pussy lips apart and tries again. This time, she forces the flared head into her vagina, yelping with pain as the flare stretches her more than she has ever had to deal with before. "Hey, take it easy," I caution her. White-faced and wincing, she nods, waiting for her vaginal passage to become accustomed to the intrusion. After a few moments, color begins to return to her face, and she slowly relaxes. Carefully, she gives the thick shaft protruding from her pussy an experimental wiggle and, deciding she can bear it, she carefully pushes, slowly edging the lifelike vibrator into her body. Finally, she stops with just over an inch at the base and the control knob protruding from between her white, bloodless labia. "Ready for this yet?" Rene asks, struggling to her feet with that obscene black shaft still dangling from her tiny pussy. Now comfortable with the massive rod stretching her vagina, she stands over her big sister, slowly pulling it almost all the way from her body and pushing it back in. "Give me a minute," Alison says, experimentally sliding about an inch of pink plastic from her vagina. She winces a little as the thick shaft briefly sticks, then slips with a rush. After another experimental movement, she begins to pump the thick phallus in and out slowly, gradually increasing the length of her strokes until she is fucking herself with nearly the full length of the shaft. Standing above her, Rene continues to slide the huge black prick in and out of her tiny vulva. Her breathing begins to speed up, and she becomes a little unsteady on her feet, so I reach up to steady her. Again, she stops as she appears to approach a climax and pulls the thick shaft free with an audible pop. In utter astonishment, I lie with my head between her feet and watch as the gaping hole between her legs closes faster than I could believe possible, shrinking from an opening large enough to accept a small jar to a tiny hole that looks as if it would protest the entry of a pencil. Amazed at the incredible elasticity of this tiny preschooler's vagina, I reach up and lightly caress the fat little lips of her tiny pudenda. Then I slowly insinuate my smallest finger between them and press into a warm, slick sheath that firmly grips my finger in an unbelievably snug embrace. Removing my finger, I roll over, sit up, and pull Rene down into my lap. "You've never had an orgasm, have you, darling?" I ask her as I gently stroke my fingertips over the outside of her little slit. "What's that?" she asks me. "You get an orgasm," I tell her, "by playing with your pussy until you feel so good inside that you don't care about anything else. It's like..." I cast around for something a very shy and easily scared five-year-old can understand. As I try to think of something within her experience, urgent sounds from Alison draw my attention to where she is rapidly sawing the quiescent vibrator in and out of her creaming pussy and moaning incoherently. "It's like this," I say, reaching across and giving the base of the vibrator a sharp twist. The sudden and unexpected onslaught of the new sensations brought about by the humming toy within her pussy are all it takes to send Alison crashing over the edge into a massive orgasm. Her mouth opens in a silent scream, and her hands hit the bed beside her as she flops bonelessly, caught up in the sensations that rip through her immature pre-teen body. Between her legs, each powerful, rippling contraction of her juvenile vagina forces more of the vibrator from her until it falls free and lies buzzing between her thighs. Without the stimulation of the vibrator within her pussy, her climax recedes, sending a few final weak shudders through her abdomen. Rene watches her twitching sister for a few moments longer, then turns her wide-eyed stare on me. "Would that happen to me if I didn't stop when it started to feel scary?" she asks fearfully. "Uh-huh," I confirm and reassure her, "I know it feels scary to start with, but it's a nice scary. Like when somebody throws you up in the air and catches you. I know! Have you ever been in a car when it goes over a bump and your tummy goes away?" "Uh-huh," she nods."Do you like that?" I ask, hoping for a 'yes'. "Yeah!" she replies eagerly. "Well, an orgasm is that sort of scary too," I say. "What sort of scary?" Alison asks, returning to the world of the coherent and entering conversation. "Like going over a bump in the car and losing your tummy," Rene answers, then asks, "Is a 'gasm really like that?" "Uh-huh," Alison confirms enthusiastically. "It's even better. It's like going right up into the sky on a swing and then you fall down and down and down, but you don't hit the ground because all your insides explode first, except they don't really. It's better than all the ice cream you can eat and all the hugs you ever had. It's better than anything." "Even the hug Mama gives me when I have a scary dream?" the wide-eyed and probably confused preschooler asks. "Better than ten hugs," Alison affirms. "I'm still scared," Rene says, wriggling around in my arms and hugging herself against my chest. "Cuddle me?" Tightening my arms about her, I lay my cheek on top of her soft blonde head and whisper soft reassurances, as I gently caress her stiff little back. Slowly she relaxes and melts against me until her arms hold me, instead of clutching me convulsively. "Are you ready to have an orgasm now?" Alison asks, earning a withering look from me as Rene stiffens slightly. Chapter 12 - Trust Me. I wait until the tiny girl in my arms relaxes again and lift my head from hers. Then, lifting her head with a finger under her chin, I ask, "Would you like to play a game, first?" "What's it called?" she asks, curiously. "It's called 'Trust me'," I tell her. "How do you play it?" she asks. "It's very easy," I say. "The hardest part is trusting me. Do you want to give it a try?" "Uh-huh," she answers in a small voice. "Okay, first things first," I say briskly. "Alison, would you wrap all these toys up in that towel and put the case on the floor. Rene, you can help me straighten this bed up a bit." A minute later, I guide Rene to stand in the middle of the bed and pull her hands up to her shoulders, crossing her arms over her chest. "Now close your eyes and fall over backwards," I tell her. "What?" she asks, spinning around and staring up at me. "I'll catch you," I tell her, turning her back around and putting her hands back on her shoulders. "That's why the game is called 'Trust Me', you have to trust me to catch you." "Promise?" she asks, tilting her head back to look up at me with big eyes. "No, no promises, because you wouldn't have to trust me then," I say. "Will you trust me?" "Uh-huh," she murmurs almost inaudibly and nods. "Okay, then," I say. "Close your eyes and just lean backwards until you fall over." The first time she falls, she collapses like a puppet with cut strings, but expecting this to happen, I catch her under the arms before her knees touch the bed, and lift her back to her feet. "Okay," I say, "this time, I want you to pretend you are a tree that's just been chopped down." "Uh-huh," she nods. "Okay, fall," I say, and catch her as soon as she overbalances. Pushing her back to her feet, I tell her, "Okay, from now on, I want you to keep your eyes closed until I tell you to open them. Fall!" I let her fall a little further this time before catching her and pushing her back to her feet. Each time she falls, I let her fall a little further until, finally, her bottom hits the bed softly as I catch her shoulders less than six inches from the mattress. "Okay, now we do it on the floor," I say. Her eyelids flicker at this, but she manages to keep them closed. "Good girl," I praise her. "That's right, keep them closed." I lift her back to her feet and step down to the floor as I tell her, "Now walk until you get to the edge of the bed. Take big steps, I won't let you fall." Having a very firm mattress, the bed is perfect for this, and she confidently steps forwards, trusting me to tell her when to stop. Instead, I let her take a step out into thin air and catch her in my arms as she topples with a thin scream. "You said you wouldn't let me fall," she accuses me. "I know, I lied," I say unrepentantly. "But I got you to trust me, and I did catch you. Didn't I?" "Uh-huh," she nods. "And you'd trust me to catch you on the floor, wouldn't you?" "Uh-huh," another nod. "Would you trust Alison?" I ask. Rene eyes her sister for a few moments, considering this, before she confidently answers, "Yes," then qualifies it, "Sometimes." "Will you trust me to give you an orgasm?" I ask. "It won't be like the one Alison had, I'll make it a little one. It will still be a bit scary, but I'll be there to catch you." "Okay," she agrees, a little fearfully. "It's okay, Rene," Alison says, "I was scared too, last night. Really scared. But afterwards I loved it." "Really, you was scared too?" "Uh-huh, I nearly wet my pants," Alison confirms. "I would've too if I had any piddle left." Hearing this, I give Alison a direct look, and she flushes as she explains, "I didn't tell you, because I didn't want you to stop." "I'm ready now," Rene announces. "What do I do?" "All you have to do is relax, and let me hold you," I tell her. "I'll do all the rest." "Okay," she nods. I pile the pillows at the head of the bed and recline against them, pulling Rene into my lap. Then, in the same hypnotic tones that I'd used on her earlier, I tell her to relax, continuously reassuring her that I'm there to hold her. I gently stroke the front of her body from her neck down to her knees, carefully avoiding the plump little mound at the juncture of her thighs. With each pass of my hands, I feel the tension fall from her tiny frame. When I ask her how she feels, she responds with a dreamy, "Nice." As I begin to trace the creases between the tops of her thighs and her pussy, she tenses slightly, then relaxes as I continue to murmur reassurances into her hair. Lifting one hand to her chest, I discover that it is so narrow that I am able to brush my fingertips over both tiny pink nipples at the same time. Under my fingertips, they harden, feeling like tiny ball bearings under the slightly crinkled skin. Under the fingers of my other hand, I feel the fat lips of her little pussy begin to warm and grow slightly, and I add a third finger, tracing the crease that divides her labia as well as the creases to either side. Almost instinctively, she pushes up against my hand, and I move my hand to her stomach, pushing her back down and telling her to relax and let me do everything. When I move my fingers back to her tiny vulva and resume stroking it, I begin to push a little harder, though still keeping my fingers on the outside. With each stroke, I push my fingers a little between her legs, and they gradually part until I am able to reach the tiny seep of moisture, flowing from her vagina. She shivers as I begin to draw this moisture up on my middle finger and smear it along the length of her slit. Then, on the third or fourth pass, I press inwards hard enough to part her plump little pussy lips and brush my finger over the tiny opening between her legs. This time, as I pull my fingers up, I maintain the pressure and draw the moisture up between her labia, stopping just short of her tiny clit. As my gentle ministrations continue, her breathing quickens, and her tiny, narrow hips rock involuntarily, causing my finger to come into contact with the tiny, rock-hard, pea-sized nubbin of her clit. She gasps at the contact and pushes into it, letting me know that she is ready for the final step. The next time my fingers slide down into the warm, slick gap between her legs, I press harder, pushing just the very tip of my finger into her vagina, then withdraw it, gently dragging the entire length of my finger between her pussy lips and over her clit. She moans deep in her throat and pushes back against me, as her body instinctively reacts to these new sensations, while my soothing voice quells her fears. Back and forth I slide my finger, entering the warm, slick embrace of her vagina more and more deeply with every pass until finally, my palm cups her warm, slippery mound at the bottom of every stroke. Her breathing now comes in short shallow gasps, punctuated by little peeps of excitement, and under my fingers, her heart flutters like a little bird. Only seconds later, as I withdraw my finger and push it back into her tight little hole, she cums, with gentle undulations rippling up and down her belly, as her vaginal walls rhythmically contract and relax around my finger, and she chirrups like a baby bird. I wait until her little pussy stops nibbling on my finger and she opens her eyes and tilts her head back to look up at me lovingly, before I take my hand from between her legs. "How was that?" I ask softly. "Nice," she replies. "It wasn't scary at all. Can you do it again?" "Later, Punkin, I think it's time we got up and had something to eat," I say as I absently bring my finger up to my face and sniff the sweet, delicate aroma of her spend, then avidly suck it clean. "Can I have some?" Alison asks. Without waiting for an answer, she grabs my wrist and starts sucking on my fingers, slurping noisily and making great lip-smacking noises of enjoyment. "Hey! She's getting it all," Rene protests. "Well, there's plenty more where that came from," I say, sliding my other hand down over her belly and wetting a finger in her vagina. I bring the finger up to her face and gently brush it over her lips. She tentatively licks them, and then, like her sister, she eagerly attacks my finger. All too soon, the thin coating of sweet juices is gone, and she pushes both of her own hands down between her legs for more. She sucks the fingers of one hand into her mouth and offers the other up to me. I gladly accept, making her giggle when I engulf it to the wrist and suck hard as I pull it from between my lips.But when she goes to collect another double handful of juices, I stop her, saying, "That's enough for now, Punkin. Let's hop in the spa and have some breakfast." "But there's still more," she objects. "And there will be as long as you keep rubbing yourself down there," I tell her, rolling her over in my lap and playfully swatting her backside. "Ouch!" she giggles, pushing her little bum up and waggling it. "Oh, want some more, do you?" I ask. "Yes, please," she giggles. I deliver four more light swats, counting them off, "Two, three, four, five," and roll her out of my lap. When I step down onto the floor, I kick the towel-wrapped bundle of ersatz cocks and send them skittering across the floor. As I bend over to pick them up, I ask, "How did you find these, Rene?" Chapter 13 - Confessions of a peeper. "I saw Mama washing one once, and she said it was a special toy for big girls, so I sneaked into her room and hid, and she came in and she put it away. And then she went shopping, and Alison was watching TV, so I snuck back in here and locked the door and got them out to look at them." "Well, how did you know how to use them?" "There's some books with pictures in there too," she scrambles from the bed to rummage around in the space under the wardrobe, returning with a double handful of x-rated magazines. "See?" she holds them out to me. "Lemme see!" Alison says excitedly, trying to snatch them from her sister. "No!" I say, taking them, "We can look at them later. Let's get this lot washed and put away. Bring the case, Alison. Rene, put these away for now." I hand Rene the magazines and bundle the dildos back up in a towel. Then, ushering Alison, who looks longingly over her shoulder at the wardrobe, ahead of me, we go to the bathroom. As I'm wiping the Black Mamba dry, I ask Rene, "What ever possessed you to try and put this thing in your little pussy?" "I wanted to be a big girl too," she tells me, "When I could make this one fit," she picks up Mr. Big, which looks like a log in her tiny hands, and says, "I was going to show Mama and show her I was a big girl too." I take the monstrous phallus from her hands and slowly turn it over. Even in my hands, the bloody thing looks deformed. "Rene," I say slowly, "Even your mamma doesn't use this one. See," I point to where half a price tag still adheres to the shaft, "it's still got a label on it." "And don't be in such a hurry to grow up, it happens way too soon anyway," I tell her seriously, "You're a beautiful little girl, who I love very much just the way she is, and your mama loves you that way too." "Me too!" Alison pipes up and bends to give her little sister a kiss that curls my toes to watch. "Whew," Alison gasps when they part, "she's a good kisser, isn't she?" "Just wait until she's had a bit more practice," I say, dropping the last of the dildos into the case and snapping the lid down. After putting the case away and telling both girls to leave it and the magazines alone, I usher them out of the room, asking, "Any body need to pee?" Rene answers in the affirmative, and leads me towards the toilet. As she climbs up onto the seat, I ask her if she wants me to help again. "No, I want you to stand here," she takes hold of my hips and pulls me closer, until my cock is right in her face. "You said I could have another taste," she says, and sucks my limp prick into her tiny mouth. Almost immediately, it begins to grow under the influence of her baby-like sucking. "Cool!" Alison says from the doorway, and I turn my head to see her slide her hand between her legs and cup her pussy. As my cock continues to expand, it quickly fills the sweet, warm cavity of the tiny girl's small mouth. I look back down to her and gently take hold of the sides of her head, sliding my fingers under her hair at the back and caressing the delicate skin of her cheeks with my thumbs. I cradle her head, letting her feel my love, but do not restrict the movements of her head as the bulbous glans presses at the back of her throat and forces her head back. She tilts her head back slightly, her deep blue, almost violet eyes looking up at me lovingly, from beneath long pale lashes. Bringing both hands up, she wraps her tiny fingers around the rigid shaft of my member and holds it steady as she pulls her mouth off the end with a pop and gives the tip a quick kiss. "That felt funny," she giggles. "I like it when it grows in my mouth." She then opens her jaw wide and pushes her tiny lips back over the tip, and starts sucking again. At first, I let her go, but as it becomes obvious that she is going to do nothing more, I gently apply pressure to the back of her head and pull her further onto my cock, stopping just as the tip brushes the back of her throat. She looks up at me trustingly as I guide her head back and forth a couple of times, and when I release the pressure, she continues the motion of her own accord, fucking me gently with her face. After a few seconds, she pulls off my cock to swallow the saliva that has pooled in her mouth, and I tell her, "Push up with your tongue and lick it all over too, sometimes." Straight away, she sticks out her tiny tongue and licks from the root to the tip, making me twitch and gasp as the tip passes over the sensitive skin of my fraenum. She giggles at my reaction and flicks her tongue over the sensitive folds of skin several times before taking me back into her mouth again. This time, as she rocks her head back and forth, she presses up against the underside with her tongue, especially as the sensitive folds of the fraenum pass over her tongue. As her confidence increases, her head bobs faster, and she adds swirling her tongue around the tip to her repertoire. The next time she pulls her head clear, she drools her spit into her hands and slides her hands up and down the length of my shaft as she rubs the tip over her lips and cheeks. The incredible sight of this tiny preschooler, sitting naked on the toilet as she services my cock like a seasoned porn star, is almost enough to make me shoot there and then, and I groan in reaction. Almost as if realizing my predicament, Rene lets go of my cock and grins up at me. "Are you going to squirt soon?" she asks. "Soon, real soon, Darling," I groan, "Suck it some more, please." Instead of doing as I ask, she gently grasps my balls, one in each hand, and asks, "What are these?" "They're my balls, Honey, they make my sperm," I tell her. "What's that?" she asks curiously. "That's the yummy, creamy stuff that squirts out," Alison tells her sister. The short question and answer session has been enough to cool me down a little, and I am able to hold off as she explores the swollen purple glans teasingly, with the tip of her agile young tongue. She likes my reaction to her spearing the tip of her tongue into the gaping slit at the tip and giggles as she gives it a couple more pokes, before pushing her lips over the angry purple knob and engulfing almost half of my prick. The sensations of her lips wrapped tightly around my shaft and her wet little tongue playing with the sensitive underside of my engorged prick drive me to such fiery heights that I have to take my hands from her head before I lose control and try to force myself down her tiny throat. "Oh God!" I groan, "That's a good baby." I start caressing the side of her tiny face with the back of my hand. "Suck Daddy's cock for him," I moan, fantasizing about having a baby daughter of my own. Rene briefly pauses when she hears me call myself 'Daddy', then resumes her ministrations with even greater enthusiasm, her head bobbing up and down and her tiny fingers caressing my spit-slickened shaft. "Daddy's little girl is making him feel so good," I moan, "That's it, baby, Daddy's going to give his little baby a nice big drink of cream, real soon. Suck it good, baby. Oh, God, baby, here it cummmms," I groan as the first massive jet of scalding hot seed sears through my cock to splash against the back of my five-year-old lover's throat. She jerks back as it hits, and my second spurt splashes across both cheeks of her tiny face. But she quickly recovers from her surprise and aims the spurting tip of my cock at her wide-open mouth, extending her tiny tongue underneath it to catch any drips. I choke back howls of unbearable pleasure as I look down to watch my creamy seed spurt from my painfully distended prick into her waiting mouth. Wrapping my hand over her tiny fists, I move it up and down on my shaft, pumping my ejaculate into her mouth, watching it coat her little, pink tongue and drip in obscene, greasy strands from her teeth. Some interminable time later, I strip one last pearly droplet from my shaft onto her waiting tongue and still my hand. Standing on rubbery legs that barely support me, I look down into her upturned face. Her tiny face is crisscrossed with pearly strands of my semen, where I have missed the mark, and drools in stringy, white strands from the corners of her overfull mouth. As I watch, she carefully closes her mouth, and I see her cheeks bulge rhythmically as she swirls my cum around, testing the flavor. A smile quickly suffuses her cum-streaked features, and she pulls her hands from beneath mine to scoop up the obscene strands that drip from her chin and push them between her lips. A thud, followed by a series of choked squeals, reminds us of Alison's presence, and we turn our attention to the little ten-year-old, who lies in the doorway, frantically mauling her hairless pre-teen pussy with both hands. One hand frenziedly rubbing at her clit, while she plunges four fingers of the other in and out of her creaming snatch. As we watch, the frantic motions of her fingers slow, becoming languorous and gentle as her climax fades. "Oh wow!" Rene breathes, and I turn back to her.Her fingers are pressed against the top of her tiny pussy, gently rubbing back and forth as she watches her big sister come down from her climax. Slipping my hands under her arms, I lift the tiny child from the toilet and hold her against my chest as I lick the creamy strands of semen from her face, making her giggle as my tongue passes over her cheeks and nose. I gently lick her tiny bow-like lips and they part to allow me to slip my tongue inside and taste the residue of my cum that still adheres to her gums and cheeks. Lifting her higher, I lap up the few gooey droplets that had dripped from her chin to her narrow flat chest. I flick my tongue over each of her tiny pink nipples, then lick lower, making her squirm and giggle as I push her outie belly button in with my tongue. "Ooh, stop!" she squeals, "I haven't done wees yet." As soon as I hear this, I spin around and sit on the toilet. Lifting her higher, I force my tongue between her tightly clenched thighs and drag it back through her slit. "Ooh, stop! I'm going to wee, if you don't stop," she squeaks. "Wee in his mouth!" Alison calls from the doorway, recovered enough to sit up. "That's yucky!" Rene says with a shocked giggle. "No, it's not, he likes it," Alison replies, "I peed all over him last night and he drank it, and he peed on me too." A moment later, I make the matter academic by blowing a zoober onto her plump little mound. She squeaks with dismay, and I feel dampness in my beard. I lift her back a little to look at the trickle of moisture that has escaped her body and dribbles down one of her thighs. Before her dismay can become something darker, I lap up the warm, salty dribble and force my tongue into the damp hollow, where her thighs and fat little labia meet. She yelps at the contact, then slowly, almost reluctantly, separates her legs for me. As my tongue passes over her pee-hole, she releases an involuntary spurt of salty, sweet urine onto my tongue. Then when I don't pull back in disgust, she cuts loose with full force. I quickly cover her tiny mons with my mouth, losing only a few precious droplets as I make the seal. I let the tasty treat flow over my tongue, only swallowing enough to leave room for more in my mouth. "He's drinking my wees," Rene cries incredulously. As the flow slows to a trickle, I gulp down what's in my mouth and tickle her pee hole with the tip of my tongue, making her giggle and release the last of her pee in short, sharp spurts. When I lower the little girl to my lap, she surprises me by pulling my head down and kissing my wet lips, not even pulling back when she slips her tongue between them and discovers that I still have a mouthful of her urine. Instead, she forces my lips further apart and lets some of it trickle into her mouth. She pulls back a little, and I watch her swirl it around for a few seconds, testing it, then smiles and gulps it down. She then tilts her head back and opens her mouth like a baby bird. Happy to comply, I squirt a small spurt into her waiting mouth, smiling as Alison gasps in amazement from where she stands behind Rene. Rene fervently swallows the salty, sweet morsel, then opens her mouth for more. I feed her the last of my mouthful of her pee in small spurts, each of which she eagerly swallows. When I have no more to give her, she makes a little noise of disappointment and licks around my lips, collecting every stray droplet she can locate. When nothing remains for her to find, she pulls back and looks up into my eyes, giggling as she says, "That was naughty." "Yep, that's what makes it so much fun," I laugh, kissing her nose and playfully snapping at it, making her jerk back with a delighted squeal. "Oh, wow, that was so hot," Alison says, her hand once more rubbing at her slit. "Have you got a drink for me, little girl?" I ask, nodding at her busy fingers. "I wish I did," she says with a note of disappointment in her voice, "Maybe I'll have some ready after breakfast." "Good," I say, "Let's have a dip while we wait." Squealing with delight, Rene scrambles from my lap and runs through the laundry to the back door, opens it and darts through. Alison and I follow a little more slowly, arriving at the back door just in time to see the happy little girl land in the middle of the cover floating on the surface. "Look, I'm walking on water," she cries, standing up and taking a wobbling step towards us. A moment later, the edge of the styrene bead-filled cover dips and dumps her, squealing happily, into the water. The cover rises back to the surface, trapping her beneath it, and I jump to rescue her. But Alison grabs my hand and pulls me back, saying, "She's all right, watch this." Even as she speaks, I see the cover lift up as Rene stands beneath it. A moment later, Alison turns on the blower, and Rene squeals and sputters in giggling outrage. Smiling, I creep up to where Alison kneels, her thumb on the button, plant my foot on her rear, and push her in with her sister. Throwing back the cover, she turns an indignant glare on me, then disappears with a squawk as Rene pulls her feet from under her. Chuckling, I pull the cover from the water and step into the roiling water with the girls. As I enter the water, they forget each other and turn on me. Climbing onto the seats, they jump at me from either side and try to drive me beneath the surface. I give them long enough to realize that they aren't going to get anywhere, then tighten my arms around them and drop to the bottom, pulling them under with me. As soon as they begin to struggle, I let Alison go and jump back to my feet. Peeling Rene's tiny arms from about my neck, I lift her up and blow zoobers all over her body until she is helpless with laughter. I let her calm down for a few seconds, then with a final zoober right over her clit that leaves her gasping, I put her down on a seat and stoop to deal with a determined Alison, who is trying to shift one of my firmly planted feet. Without warning, I give her what she wants and catch her as she stumbles backwards. Shrieking and wriggling futilely, she struggles to escape, her laughing protests getting louder as I secure both of her hands in one of mine and start blowing air into her navel. A moment later, Rene joins me, and we quickly reduce Alison to a helplessly giggling wreck. Sitting down, I set her down beside me and cuddle her against my side. Rene worms under my arm on the other side, and each time Alison begins to recover, she darts an arm across my belly and tickles her big sister. I let her get away with it a couple of times, then put a stop to it by grasping her wrist and giving her a stern look. She responds with an impudent giggle and wriggles from my grasp, then proceeds to attack Alison from the other side. In the end, I have to pull her away and subdue her with an overdose of zoobers. I finally get Rene securely ensconced in my lap, my arms trapping hers at her side, and I look up to see Alison regarding her little sister, almost as if she has never seen her before. A moment later, a decidedly retaliatory gleam enters her eye, but at least SHE subsides when I give her a stern glance. A few minutes later, Rene twists her neck in a way that makes me wince and asks, "Can you let me go now, please?" "Can I trust you?" I ask. She considers the question for a moment, then nods and answers, "I'll leave her alone." "Fair enough," I say, releasing her. "But I didn't say I'd leave you alone," she giggles, turning around and tickling my ribs. This time around, I allow her tickling to affect me and laugh for her, wriggling just enough that she has to work to maintain her seat. I let her have her fun for half a minute or so, then trap her hands and pull her up until I can blow a single zoober around her belly button. I then lower her back down into my lap, planting little kisses along the way, finishing with a brief but sensuous kiss on the lips. "Okay, that's enough of that. Who's ready for breakfast?" Two shrill, "Me"s answer my question, and we leave a trail of wet footprints through the house as we go into the bathroom for towels. The girls make me kneel on the bathmat and team up to rub me dry, before allowing me to dry them. As I rub Alison down, my eyes fall on the tiny wisp of nothing that she'd been wearing earlier, and when I finish, I pick them up and ask, "Where on Earth did you get these?" "Mama bought them for me yesterday," is her answer, and a sudden thought flits through my head, which I immediately dismiss as an absurdity. "Here, put them on," I say. "They look positively indecent." Giggling, she slips the tiny pair of knickers on and twirls slowly, posing for me. In back, a narrow triangle of thin gauzy fabric barely covers the innermost third of her buttocks and does nothing to conceal the shadowy crease separating them. As her pirouette brings the front panel into view, I'm treated to the sight of her beautiful hairless pussy, which is in no way concealed by the scrap of fog hugging it. Instead, just as I'd hoped, it makes her look even more naked than when she'd been nude. Rene too, notices the difference, saying, "They're rude." "Come on, nudie," I say, patting her on the bottom, "let's see what we can find for you." Alison and I follow the waggling white bottom into its owner's bedroom, and she stands in front of her dresser, waiting for me to pick her up. As I'd done the night before, I support her on a lifted knee and together we rummage through her underwear drawer, looking for something interesting. However, all of the undies in her drawer are your basic cotton, 'little girl' knickers, ranging from basic white through to cute little animals of all descriptions. Then, without consulting me, Rene wads up a pair of powder blue knickers and tosses them in the direction of her wastepaper basket, missing. "Hey, what did you do that for?" I ask. "They're old and they've got holes in them.""Well, let's see them anyway," I say, lifting her down to the floor. I pick up the discarded scrap of cloth and hold them up to the light. Indeed, they do have holes, one about half an inch across to one side in the back and two smaller holes in front. "Here, try them on for me," I say, kneeling in front of her and holding them open. She steps into the leg holes, and I pull them up. They are quite a bit too small for her, but this only serves to outline her tiny, plump mound. One of the front holes is right over the crease separating her pussy lips, giving a glimpse of her slit, and the other reveals a tiny patch of pale white skin on her left labia. The hole in the back also shows off a small expanse of soft white skin. "What do you think, Alison?" I ask, turning Rene to face her. "They're rude!" she giggles in a little girl voice. "Now let's see what we can find for me," I say, smiling. With exaggerated waggles of their tiny bottoms, the girls precede me into their mother's room and proceed to empty my bag onto the floor. A moment later, Rene crows in triumph and holds up a leopard print 'cache sex' that an older girlfriend had given me. Giggling, she dresses me, having a little trouble stuffing my half-hard cock into the tiny pouch. Then, with a little playful pushing and shoving, we line up in front of the full-length mirrors that form the doors of the wardrobe to inspect ourselves. We present an absolutely obscene sight. A ten-year-old girl in knickers designed to show off, rather than conceal the lines of her hairless, pre-teen pussy. Her five-year-old sister in knickers so tight that every fold of her fat little pussy is clearly outlined beneath the taut fabric. And standing between them, with his hands on their shoulders, a thirty-year-old, overly hirsute man with the darkening head of his stiffening cock peeking out of a leopard print posing pouch. A moment later, Rene pushes a finger into the hole at the top of her slit, and my cock shoulders its way clear of the pouch that can no longer contain it. "Oh, he wants a better look?" Alison says, making us giggle. "Yeah, he knows a couple of sexy young ladies when he sees them," I say in reply. "Now, come on, let's get breakfast before he decides to take a closer look at what's in your knickers." Running ahead of me, they bolt for the kitchen, and I follow at a more sedate pace, which allows me to tuck my cock back inside my underwear. When I arrive, they already have most of the makings of a cold breakfast on the table, and Rene is carrying the milk and orange juice to the table as Alison brings bowls. I make the mistake of allowing Rene to pour her own breakfast. Then, when I go to clean it up, she won't let me until she has picked each and every Rice Bubble out of the young flood and popped it into her mouth, as Alison makes noises of disgust. I guess I could stop her easily enough, but her giggling lets me know that she knows this is not normally acceptable behavior, so I let her have her fun, confining myself to stern looks and a low rumbling in my throat, which she cheerfully ignores."Well, just about the same time she started playing with her hairbrush, she saw you cleaning one of your toys, and she decided she wanted to be a 'big girl' too. So she went and hid in your room and waited for you to put it away." "I remember that," Cheryl says. "I thought the little shit had gone outside." "And then you went shopping, and Alison was watching TV, so Rene locked herself in your room and went to work in a very scientific and thorough manner. She made it about halfway through your collection that day, and since then, every time she's had a chance, she's tried a new toy. "Her intention was to show you that she was a big girl too, as soon as she managed to accommodate Mr. Big." "Oh my God, that thing would split her in half," Cheryl cries in shock. "I hope you put an end to that idea." "Yeah, I convinced her to wait a little while before she grew up any more. "You know, Alison's quite put out by her little sister," I continue with a chuckle. "Why's that?" "She can only get halfway through your collection before she has to stop." "Well, there's not much that Rene can beat Alison at yet," Cheryl laughs, "but I *could* wish it was something a little more mundane. I'd hate to think about what might happen if she starts crowing about it." "Actually, that's more or less how I found out about your toys in the first place. Though it was Alison who was doing the boasting. She decided to show Rene what she could do, sat in my lap, and then told her that she couldn't do it. That made Rene mad, and she went to your wardrobe and got out your case. "One by one, she demonstrated exactly what would fit, culminating with her stuffing four inches of the Black Mamba into her pussy and then challenging Alison to give it a try." On the other end of the line, I hear a loud clunk and a series of muffled, gasping obscenities. A moment later, Cheryl picks up the receiver and apologizes, "Sorry about that, you just made me cum without touching myself." Just then, I hear a warning tone, and Cheryl hurriedly says, "Shit, I've got to go, I haven't got any change left. I'll try and call you from Swan Hill, but CJ might make that impossible. Christ, the way I feel now, I might just make sure of it. So if I don't, I'll see you when we get back, give my love to the girls, and don't go ruining my baby girl's virtue until I'm there to &lt;click&gt;" I hang up the phone and go into the lounge where the kids are watching Gargoyles. "Girls, we've got a problem," I say. "Your Mum says I'm not allowed to fuck Rene." "Why not?" Rene asks in the interval that her sister leaves as she tries to pick up her jaw. "Because she wants to watch," I grin, watching Alison's face. Her eyes threaten to pop from her head, and her mouth opens and closes like a goldfish as she tries to digest what I'd just said. "She wants to watch you fuck Rene?" she gasps. "What about me?" "What about you?" I ask. "What did she say about me?" "Oh, she just wanted to know if your first fuck was a good one, and then we talked about Rene." I ignore Alison as her expression shifts from shock to incredulity and say, "Guess what, Rene? Your Mama had an orgasm right in the phone booth when I told her about how you played with her toy dicks." "Really?" the little girl squeals excitedly and jumps up and down chanting, "Mama had a 'gasm. Mama had a 'gasm." Rene becomes suddenly somber as Alison cries, "Shut up, Rene!" She then turns scared eyes on me. "She knows about us?" she asks incredulously. "Actually, I only really told her about Rene," I say. "She already knew you were going to fuck me before she left." "She did?" Alison yelps. "Uh-huh," I nod. "Next time you have a secret conversation, you might want to check outside the window as well as under the bed," I say with a grin. "Your Mama heard every word and every disgusting noise you and Jenny made." I sit down on the couch and pat the seat beside me. "Come and sit here, and I'll explain it a bit better." A moment later, I have a little girl snuggled up against my right side and a very little one cuddled under my left arm. "O.K.," I say. "Your mama heard you two fucking yourselves with your hairbrushes, and she thought it was cute, because that's how she got started too. Then Jenny started talking about men, and your mama kept listening, because she wanted to know who I was so she could tell the police. "Lucky for me though, she started to get hot, thinking about you fucking someone. And I think she guessed that you were going to do it soon anyway, and decided that I sounded like a nice guy and wouldn't hurt you like some people would. So when your grandad got sick, she tricked your daddy into getting me to babysit. She even bought those knickers for you." "Does this mean I don't have to keep secrets from Mama anymore?" Rene asks. "Well, not about this anyway," I say. "You'll have to make up your own mind about other secrets." "What about Daddy?" Alison asks. "Talk to your mother first," I reply, "because I think she's keeping it a secret from him. O.K.?" "O.K.," she agrees. "What are we going to do now?"On either side of the street are several overgrown blocks of land, littered with scraps of weathered building materials and the dirt from half-dug foundations. I know from earlier explorations of the area that the bush behind the empty blocks are only narrow strips, about fifty meters deep, beyond which lie similar streets. A paved bicycle track links these streets to the park and also to a completed development some two hundred meters beyond the bushland behind the park. When I pull up, I'm somewhat surprised to see a skinny little girl in a dirty, floral print dress and pink cardigan, with dark curly hair, kicking herself, somewhat dispiritedly, back and forth on one of the swings, the toes of her scuffed sneakers dragging in the dirt. She is so deeply absorbed in her own sad little world that she does not notice us until she hears the car doors slamming. She looks up with a sulky expression that quickly clears when she sees the girls tumbling out of the car. Leaving me and a suddenly shy Rene to unpack the car, Alison runs over to the little girl and starts talking to her. I hand Rene the bag containing our cups and other utensils and dump a rubber-backed rug on top. Taking up the esky, I direct Rene, who can't see over the load in her arms, to a sunny patch of grass nearby. As I shake out the blanket, Alison and her new friend come skipping up to us. "This is Anna, Greg, her Mama made her come here because she kept on waking up her new baby brother. She lives over there behind the trees," Alison waves in the direction of one of the adjacent streets. "Can she stay and have a picnic with us?" "I think Anna's mother might be expecting her back for lunch," I say. "Besides, it's still a little early to eat." "I meant when it was time to eat, silly," Alison tells me scornfully. "Can she play with us till then?" "I don't see why not," I reply with a grin. "That is, of course, if Anna wants to play with a couple of little horrors like you." "Oh, I do," Anna says earnestly. "I thought there'd be somebody here to play with, because I heard lots of kids yesterday, but I haven't seen anybody all day." "How long have you been living here, Anna?" I ask. "I didn't know there were any houses on that street." "Oh, there aren't," she replies. "Daddy's building us one, but he got hurt and we're living in a caravan because we had to leave our old house." "Well, why don't we put all of this away, and we'll go and see your mother, Anna," I say. "We can ask her if you can have lunch with us. And there are a couple of things I need to say to her too." "O.K.," she replies a little sadly, "but Mummy will say yes, because she says I'm a nuisance." "That's probably because she's worried about your daddy," I say reassuringly. We quickly bundle everything back up and lock them in the back of my car, and after unpeeling Rene from my leg and moving her to my shoulders, we follow Anna along the bike path to the next street over. One of the blocks has been cleared, and the frame of a house has begun to take shape on top of a poured concrete floor slab. Rather incongruously, a partially complete bathroom is visible through an open doorway. It is the only section of the house to have the plaster of the walls nailed up. A plastic tarp fixed over the ceiling joists protects it from the weather. Beside the frame of the house is a medium-sized caravan, from which emerged the thin wail of a hungry baby. Before I can knock, Anna flings the door open and bounces inside, earning herself a sharp rebuke from a harassed-sounding woman. Chapter 16 - Bread Cast Upon The Waters. "I'm sorry, Mummy," Anna replies, somewhat abashed, "but I wanted to ask if I could have a picnic with some girls and their Daddy in the park." "Anything to get you out of my hair," the woman cries, sounding so close to tears that I can't blame her for her uncharitable words. "Here, hold your brother so I can make his bottle first." "His name's Greg, and the big girl is Alison," Anna chatters. "I don't know what the little girl is called. He says he wants to talk to you." "They're here?" the woman yelps, sticking her head through the door to look at where we stand in an embarrassed huddle to one side of the door. "Oh God, I must look an absolute fright," she cries, her hands flying to her hair. "I'd invite you in, but the place is an absolute pigsty." I pull the scrunchie from Alison's hair and muss it up, then run my fingers through my own until it stands on end. "There, we match," I say, grinning. "Now, if you don't mind us inviting ourselves in, you look like you could do with a nice hot cuppa." She giggles, a little hysterically, at me and nods, not trusting herself to speak, as she steps back into the van. I lift Rene down from my shoulders, holding her on my hip as she won't let me put her down, and step up after her. "You sit down there, and I'll fix you a cuppa," I order this strange woman, belatedly apologizing, "If you don't mind me taking over for a while." She takes the indicated seat, saying, "No, I don't mind. I don't know who you are, but I could cheerfully kiss you right now." "I'm Greg Mills, sometime knight in shining armor," I introduce us. "This is Rene, and that's Alison making a beeline for your baby. And much as it would please me for them to be my children, I have to admit that I'm just borrowing them for the weekend, while their parents are on holiday." "I'm Jean Little, no longer a maiden," she smiles wanly, "but very much in distress. You've already met Anna, and the 'little bundle of noise' is Robert. Now I better get his bottle, before he remembers he's hungry." "No, you sit there. I can see everything I need, and once I've plugged the hole in his face, we'll see about you. O.K.?" "Oh, thank you!" Jean says fervently. "My husband slipped when he was erecting a roof truss two days ago and broke his hip. I've been trying to cope, but between worrying about him and the baby keeping me up at night and Anna during the day, I'm beginning to lose it." Working around Rene, who still has her face buried in my shoulder, I wash my hands and get a bottle and teat from the sterilizing solution, and after checking with Jean, measure out the right amount of formula. When I feel the kettle, it is obvious that Jean had been waiting for it to cool, and that explains the cranky baby. It's still a little warm, but I make up the formula anyway, setting it in a bowl of cold water for a few seconds to cool. After checking the temperature, I hold out the bottle to Jean, saying, "Mummy spit, please." "Huh?" she says, confused. "Suck the teat for a second," I say. "He'll recognize the taste of your saliva and take the bottle faster." "That's a new one on me," she says after briefly sucking on the bottle and grimacing at the taste. "Where did you learn that?" "My neighbor," I reply. "I also borrow her kid on a fairly regular basis. You can do it to his dummy too, it works just as good as honey and it doesn't rot their teeth." Peeling Rene back enough to look into her face, I ask, "Do you want to feed the baby?" She immediately slithers down to the floor and takes the bottle from me. I follow her to the other end of the van, where the two older girls are struggling to keep Robert's attention. Lifting Rene into the middle of the bed, I arrange Robert, who is beginning to whimper, in her lap and show her how to hold him and the bottle. He looks to be about four months or so old, and as soon as the bottle touches his lips, his fists come up to grasp it. Leaving the older girls to supervise Rene with the baby, I return to the front of the van, refilling the kettle and switching it on on the way. "Do you have any kids of your own, Greg?" Jean asks as I shove a pile of nappies aside and sit down opposite her. "No, not yet," I reply. "I haven't found anybody willing to settle down with me yet." "You're kidding?" she says incredulously. "You know so much about them and you worked around having Rene on your hip like you do it all the time. God, if I weren't already married, I'd be proposing about now." "I have to warn you, I drool in my sleep," I say, laughing. "Mostly, I just borrow other people's kids. That way, you can usually give them back when they need changing." "I can relate to that," she laughs. "Have you ever noticed that they save the smelly ones for company?" "Of course," I laugh back. "Now, before he finishes his bottle and the girls come back," I say, "there's something I should say." "Sounds serious." "Not yet, but it could be. It's about the park. I don't think it's a good idea to let Anna play there on the weekends. It's way too isolated for her to be there without supervision. It's O.K. after school, because half the kids from the school are there, but it's usually pretty deserted on weekends." "Are you saying perverts hang out there?" she asks, her voice rising enough to attract the attention of the kids. "Shush," I wait for the girls' attention to return to the baby and continue, "No, not at the moment, because it is so rarely used on the weekend. But it's going to get around that you've started to build here, and Anna might be in danger then, so I'd keep her close to you until a few people build on the street over there." "How did you get the land anyway?" I ask, getting up to deal with the kettle. "I thought this was all one development that collapsed." "It is. Sean, that's my husband, used to work for the developers, and when they went bust, he and the other employees were given land in lieu of back pay and redundancy. We wanted a block on the center road, but the receivers held onto that, waiting for the market to pick up again. "Most of the others sold their land back to the new owners, but we held onto ours, and as our lease on the old place expired two months ago, we decided to move here as soon as Sean could get enough of the bathroom finished for us to use it."That way we could save the rent money and build faster. Last weekend, we moved into the van here and then Sean had his damned fall," she finishes, becoming distraught. "Here, drink this," I say, wrapping her fingers around a mug of sweet, milky tea. "God, how much sugar did you put in this?" she asks after taking a sip. "Enough," I tell her, sitting down with my own mug, "Now drink, you need it." We silently sit sipping our drinks, until Rene interrupts, calling out, "He's finished his bottle. He's smiling at me." "Oops," I say, grabbing a nappy from the pile beside me and throwing it over my shoulder, "time for damage control." I quickly scoop Robert from Rene's lap and lift him to my shoulder, patting his back. A few seconds later, he lets go with a sustained burp that tells me I'd just averted a major disaster. Once I'm sure he's not going to present us with any little surprises, I check his nappy and, finding it dry, I give the girls back their living doll and go back to my cuppa. "You moved quick there," Jean comments. "I had to," I laugh, "can you imagine the mess there would have been when those three made like a trade union and went out in sympathy." "I can and I thank you from the bottom of my stomach for avoiding it." "You're welcome," I say, "Now while we have such efficient baby sitters, why don't you and I see to cleaning up a bit? You'll be much more cheerful if you're not constantly tripping over reminders of what you haven't had the time to do. And then we are going on a picnic." "Oh god, how can I ever repay you?" she says, almost crying with relief. "You don't," I reply, "you do whatever you can to help when you come across others in distress." It takes a surprisingly short time for us to get the van cleared, with me in the kitchenette washing the dishes and sweeping the floor as Jean puts away the piles of clothing that have accumulated and makes the bed. At the same time, I steam sterilize a couple of empty soft drink bottles in the microwave and fill them with boiled water, giving Jean a head start on Robert's next few bottles. When she sees what I'm doing, she gives me a heartfelt "Thanks." and a quick buss on the cheek, blushing like a schoolgirl. As soon as we have finished cleaning up, Jean chases me out of the kitchenette, beaming her gratitude and saying, "We can at least bring our own contribution to the picnic." As she begins to cut sandwiches for herself and Anna, Anna announces, "He's wet, Mummy." I wave her back to the bench, and with Anna to fetch for me, and my two to giggle at his little circumcised dick, I quickly have him changed and in a fresh pair of rompers. Then when they would reclaim their newest toy, I tell them it's time he was put down for a nap. They give in with good grace and after watching me tuck him into his cradle, they retire to the table at the front of the van to play with Anna's Barbies. Rene, having gotten over her initial shyness, becoming so bossy that I have to rein her in. Chapter 17 - The Picnic. Ten minutes later, we are on our way back to the playground. Jean and I carrying Robert in a capsule and the girls laden with a basinet for Robert, his travel bag, and the food. When we arrive, my two dump their loads and make a beeline for the slide, while Anna, in a sudden fit of conscience, offers to help us set up. However, Jean sees where her daughter would rather be and, taking the thought for the deed, thanks her and sends her off with a pat on the backside. A few minutes later, we have lunch laid out on the blanket, and a sleeping Robert transferred to the basinet. The girls come running when we call, attacking the simple feast as if they had not eaten in days. Then, when the sandwiches are nothing but a memory and the girls are engaged in a giggling belching contest, Jean produces a block of chocolate and distributes it among us. Causing Rene to surprise me and her sister by giving Jean a quick kiss on the cheek. Then, having determined that nothing remains to fill their hollow legs, they try to drag me off to play with them. Laughing, Jean shoos me away, saying, "Go on, I'll be fine here with Robert, you've given me the first half hour to myself I've had since before we moved." With me to provide the muscle, the first thing they want to try is the spinning egg. I beg off, telling them they should let lunch settle a bit first. So their next choice is the swings. Fortunately for them, but not for me, there are three swings on the frame and they have me running like a blue-arsed fly as I move from side to side giving each of them a push. At first, I give Rene tiny pushes, not wanting to scare her, but she soon starts shrieking, "Higher, Higher!" Even when I have all three of them rising above my head on the back swing, she continues to exhort me to push her even higher. Abandoning the other two to their own devices, I concentrate my efforts on Rene's swing and soon have her rising to a height of ten or twelve feet at the top of each swing. When I look to the others, Anna is swaying back and forth, pumping the swing so that she maintains a maximum height of five feet or so, while Alison has come to a full halt, her head turning from side to side as she incredulously follows her baby sister's movement. Again, she looks as though she is looking at her sister for the first time. Leaving Rene to the forces of gravity and friction, I approach Alison and start spinning her swing, winding the chains together for about twenty turns before letting her go. Squealing with delight, she spins faster and faster, her hair flying out in a diaphanous cloud. Of course, as soon as the other two see this, they want to try it too. Anna drags her feet in the dirt to bring herself to a quick stop, but Rene, her little legs too short to reach the ground, has to yell for me to stop her. I'm not sure that the swings are far enough apart to set all three girls spinning at once. So after stopping Rene, I wait for Alison to spin down, and dismount. She manages to take about four reeling steps before she collapses in a giggling heap, her head turning on her shoulders as her eyes follow the dictates of her inner ears. Leaving her sprawled indecorously on the grass, (her skirt barely covering her knickers) to recover on her own, I wrap the two outer swings around the support poles. Having new devilry in mind, I get Anna to lie down in her swing, before winding her up. I tell her to pull her legs in if she wants to go faster and stick them out straight to slow down. Then, lifting her swing back and to the side, I release her, with a flick to her heels to impart a little extra speed. Her happy shrieks pierce the air as she curls herself up as tight as she can, her spinning swing also moving in a larger circle as it winds down. When the movement of the swing has slowed to lazy oscillations, she stops herself with her feet and pulls herself to her feet, using the chains. Releasing the chains, she takes three staggering steps backwards and caroms off me, landing in a laughing heap at my feet. "My turn!" Rene shrieks, flinging herself over the seat of the swing. Smiling, I wonder what this adrenalin junkie has done with the shy little girl who had been afraid of her own shadow barely six hours earlier. I haul Anna to her feet and half carry her over to where Alison is sitting, her hair in complete disarray, and a happy smile on her face. When I lower Anna to the ground beside her, she flops backwards, throwing her arms wide. After I wind Rene up and let her go, I join Alison and Anna on the ground, lying back between them and watching the clouds scud by. A moment later, Alison squirms around and makes a pillow of my stomach. On my other side, Anna sits up and hugs her knees to her chest. Her dress falls into her lap and I can see the her little bottom tightly encased in white cotton and a little higher I can see her pussy pushing the fabric out between her legs. They start talking about the latest exploits of Ken and Barbie and, not terribly interested in the subject of the conversation, I look over towards the blanket. Totally exhausted by the last couple of days, Jean now lies fast asleep, curled protectively around Robert, who she has moved onto the blanket with her. A short time later, Rene staggers from the swing, somehow or other keeping her feet until she encounters mine and falls on top of her big sister. Alison cries out loudly in surprise and pain, and I hear Robert begin to fuss. I look over to the blanket and see Jean sit up and rock him back and forth, comforting him. When he has settled down, she changes his nappy and then, tucking him under one arm, she comes over to us. "I think it's time we went home, Anna," she says, "Robert's spent enough time in the sun for one day." "Do I have to?" Anna asks beseechingly. "Well, I don't think we should impose on Greg any more," Jean tells her daughter, "He's already been more helpful to us than we have any right to expect." "Where's the imposition?" I ask, "I'm already here with these two and it's no chore to keep my eye on another. If you want to continue your half holiday, I'll bring her back before we leave." "Well, if you're sure," Jean says. "I'm sure," I reply, "It's no problem." "Well, okay then. Can you send her back about three o'clock, if you don't want to leave before then? I want to get up to the hospital to see Sean," she smiles down to her daughter. "You be good now." "Yes, Mummy," Anna replies cheerfully, trotting back to the blanket with her mother and helping her to pack up the baby's things. Jean declares that she's perfectly fine when I offer to help her carry the things back to the van and heads off across the park to the bike track. Chapter 18 - Little Exi-piss-ionists And Monkey Tricks. "Well, what now?" I ask. "The egg," is their unanimous reply. I let them haul me to my feet and lead me over to it.We clamber inside, with Rene and I opposite Alison and Anna. Then, taking hold of the wheel in the center, I start turning it, going faster and faster. When it gets to the point where I can't grip and release quickly enough to go any faster, I carefully let myself back against the wall, being careful not to crush Rene. With their weight almost tripled, their laughter is somewhat strained as they make astronaut faces at each other and try to lean into the center. Rene then discovers the fun of lifting her arm and letting it go limp so that it thumps me in the stomach. Unfortunately for me, under the high G's of the spinning capsule, her tiny arm has all the impact of a medicine ball. Being winded under normal conditions isn't funny, and at something like two and a half G's, getting your breath back becomes almost impossible. In fact, by the time I do, Alison has brought the capsule to a standstill and is blowing on her hands to cool them. A tiny tug on my sleeve makes me look down at Rene, her expression like that of a dog expecting to be kicked. "I'm sorry. Are you all right?" she whispers, almost crying. "Oh, Honey," I say, pulling her onto my lap and cuddling her, "it's all right, I know you didn't really mean it." "You sure?" she asks. "Yes, I'm sure," I reassure her, "now give me a kiss and we'll forget it. Okay?" She tilts her head back for me and meets my lips with her own, slightly parted. Although I would like to extend this kiss, I'm conscious of Anna's presence, so I keep it brief. As we separate, some wicked little imp makes her flick her tongue across my lips, and a moment later, she gives me a decidedly naughty grin. Across from us, Alison and Anna have their heads together and are holding a conversation in low tones, thinking that I'm still comforting Rene, but I have no trouble hearing what they are saying. "I need to pee," Alison is whispering. "Me too," Anna replies, "I'll take you to my place." "There's nobody around," Alison says, "why don't we just do it here?" "What about him?" Anna asks, shocked. "So what," Alison says dismissively, "he's seen me before. We don't wear anything in the spa, and then afterwards, we had a shower together. You know how the water makes you want to pee if you haven't been for a while? Well, we thought it was pretty silly to get out, so we just did it there." "You mean you've seen his thingy?" Anna asks, her voice rising to a point where I have to take notice. "Alison," I ask, "what are you saying?" "I was just saying how we don't wear anything in the spa and how we just peed in the shower afterwards because it was silly to get out," she explains. "Why?" I ask. "Because we need to pee and I don't want to go back to Anna's," she tells me, "Can we do it here?" "You most certainly can't do it in here," I say, pointing at the floor, deliberately misunderstanding her. "No, silly," she giggles, "outside. There's nobody who can see." "Well, I don't know," I say slowly. "I need to go too," Rene says from my lap, "Real bad." "Well, I guess it'll be okay, but we'd better move back into the bush," I say, trying to sound reluctant. Without further ado, Rene slides from my lap, and holding my hand, she leads me out of the capsule, dragging me at a half-run towards the trees and scrub on the other side of the bike track at the back of the park. As soon as we are out of sight of the park and the bike track, she pulls her knickers down to her ankles and lifts the hem of her dress up to her waist, then squats in the dirt, half facing me. "Oh, I'll get my undies," she says and stands back up to strip them off and hand them to me. This time when she squats, she faces me directly, and I get a perfect view of her little puffy slit. A moment later, she cuts loose with a strong, golden stream that spatters into the dust and leaf litter between her feet. As she pees, she holds her head down, watching the piss emerge from between the fat halves of her hairless baby pussy. As she finishes and stands up, Alison lifts her skirt, showing off her skimpy little knickers, her bald cunt clearly visible through the practically transparent fabric. "Oh, wow!" Anna gasps, "Where did you get those knickers?" "Mama gave them to me," Alison replies with a grin, "Aren't they naughty?" "I'll say," Anna says in a strange tone, "It almost looks like you aren't wearing any at all." "Well, now I'm not," Alison giggles, stripping them off and handing them to me. When she squats, she does so in a fashion that lets all three of us see between her legs. She places her feet as far apart as she can manage, then, as if that is not obscene enough, she separates her labia with her fingers, showing off every square millimeter of the inside of her pussy, from the small, glistening, pink hole at the base to her erect little clit at the top of her slit. As I watch, her urethral opening bulges and opens up, emitting a strong, yellow stream of urine onto the dirt. Giggling, she begins to play with the flow, cutting it off completely and then expelling it in short, sharp bursts. Then, as her bladder empties, she reduces the flow to a mere trickle that runs down between her labia and over the entrance to her vagina and then her anus, to drip from the end of her tailbone. She finishes with three quick spurts, then takes her time standing up, grinning wickedly all the while. By this time, poor Anna is standing with her legs crossed and her hand pressed into the junction of her thighs. "You won't tell Mummy, will you?" she asks, looking up at me beseechingly. "No, I won't tell her," I reassure her. "Promise?" "I promise." Grimacing with the strain of holding her pee, she modestly slips her hands under the skirt of her dress and quickly pulls her knickers off and hands them to me. A moment later, she pulls her dress up to her waist and drops into a squat so quickly that my knees ache in sympathy. So urgent is her need that even before her bottom hits her heels, she is pissing into the dirt. Her large pussy lips are so tightly closed that the stream sprays a little wildly and wets her legs. With a strained grunt, she shuts off the flow, and she uses her fingers to pull the plump lips of her mound apart. Her inner labia are surprisingly well developed for a girl of her age, and at the point where they meet, the tip of an amazingly large clit peeks from its hood. At the base of her slit, her vaginal entrance is little more than a puckered, pink dimple with a tiny dark hole at the center. A second later, she sighs, pushing the pee from her body in a golden arch. Fifteen seconds or so later, the flow slackens to a dribble that flows over the dimple marking the entrance to her vagina, making her giggle a little at the tickling sensation. A moment later, she stands, letting her dress fall, and looks up into my face, blushing prettily. "Come on," I say, "let's get your legs dried off." Jamming their knickers into my pocket, I lead them back to the blanket, smiling at the conversation that begins behind me. "Piddling like that in front of him made me feel all funny," Anna whispers to Alison. "Where?" Alison asks, "In your pussy?" "Is that the place between my legs?" Anna asks, "That's where it felt funny, sort of tingly." "Yeah," Alison answers, "When I feel like that, I sometimes rub my bumpy bit and it feels even better." Pretending not to hear their conversation, when we reach the blanket, I rummage through the bag we'd brought our plates in for napkins. "Mummy says I'm not supposed to touch myself there," Anna says, "She says it's nasty." "No, it's not," Alison says, "I do it all the time, and it feels really, really good. And my Mama says it's all right too." "Here you go, girls," I say, holding out a handful of paper napkins. They each take one, and Anna watches as both Rene and Alison pull their hems up to their waists and push their hips forwards, almost in my face. Spreading their labia with their fingers, they wipe their pussies dry. Alison then drops her napkin on the grass and very deliberately runs her finger back and forth in her slit a couple of times, going so far as to insert the first joint of her finger into her vagina. Only when I give her a warning look does she take her hand away and drop her skirt. "See?" she says to Anna. Blushing, Anna pulls up her dress, just enough to clear her well-developed pussy, and immediately covers it with the napkin and her hand. She slowly wipes herself dry, then covers herself up again as she wipes up the errant droplets bespattering her legs. Picking up Alison's napkin by a corner, I hold it out to her and point at the nearby bin. She gingerly takes it from me, and the three of them 'do the right thing', disposing of the soiled wads of tissue. I hold out their knickers to them when they return, but as Anna reaches for hers, Alison asks, "Can we leave them off? The air feels nice on my bare pussy and bum." "If you want to," I reply, feeling more comfortable with Anna's presence now that I know she's unlikely to tell her mother about anything. "Good, the breeze makes my pussy tingle. What about you, is your pussy tingling?" she finishes, turning to Anna. "Yeah, sort of," Anna replies, blushing. "Can we?" she asks me, "You can't tell Mummy, though." I mime buttoning my lip, making her giggle. After putting their knickers into my bag, I let the girls lead me over to the see-saw. All three of them cram onto one end, and I take the other. Even with all three of them to counterbalance me, I have to sit in, a good two feet from the end, to level it. From where I sit, I have a perfect view up under Rene's little dress, and I happily drink in the sight of her perfect, little, baby pussy as we rock up and down. Nor does it take very long for her to notice the direction of my gaze.With a wicked grin, she moves one hand back between her legs and starts playing with her puffy slit, rubbing her fingers up and down the full length of her little crack, pushing her fingertip into her vagina at the bottom and making little circles over her clit at the top. Then, just as she starts to become aroused, Alison gets a wicked thought of her own and whispers something to the other two. A few seconds later, as their end touches the ground, all three of them fall sideways off the see-saw. Fortunately for my tailbone, I'd guessed that was what she had had in mind and I get my feet under me in time to keep from crashing into the ground. A second later, I forget all about what sort of revenge I will extract, as Anna starts crying, her hand pressed to the inside of her thigh. Quickly, I move over to where they lie in a tumbled heap and kneel down. Gently, but firmly, I pull her hand away, to find a raw-looking scrape about two inches long and a nasty-looking black splinter, about half an inch long, under her skin about three inches down from her pussy. "Ouch!" I say, "That's got to hurt." "It does," she sobs, curling up to look at it. "Well, come on then," I say, scooping her up in my arms, "let's go over to the blanket and get it out." Kneeling on the blanket, I gently lie her down, lifting the hem of her dress up onto her belly. To get at the splinter, I have to rest the side of my hand on her smooth mound, the tip of my little finger actually pressing into her tight slit over the entrance to her vagina. Fortunately, about an eighth of an inch of the thick, evil-looking splinter still protrudes from her skin. Not giving her any warning, I take hold of the end and, holding her leg down, I give it a quick jerk, extracting it from her thigh. She jumps at the sudden pain, and her sobs, which have almost stopped, resume with renewed force. Lifting her into my lap, I cup her warm little bottom in my hand and rock her back and forth, apologizing and explaining why I had to do it that way. Gulping, she gets her tears under control and smiles up at me wanly. Taking my handkerchief, fortunately clean, from my pocket, I gently dry her tears, then ask if I can take another look. Nodding, she lies back down on the rug, pulls her dress up, and spreads her thighs. There is a tiny bead of blood at the point where the splinter had pierced the soft white skin of her inner thigh. "I'm sorry," I say, "but I'm going to have to hurt you again. I want to squeeze some more blood out to wash out any dirt that's still in there. Will you be a brave girl for me and let me do it?" Pulling her lower lip between her teeth, she nods jerkily, lifting her leg up for me. Again, I rest the side of my hand on the soft, warm skin of her little pussy, then, warning her this time and giving her my handkerchief to bite on, I place my thumb and forefinger either side of where the splinter had been and squeeze out a large drop of blood. She grunts with the pain, and when I look to her face, I see two shimmering tears pooled in the corners of her eyes. Taking a napkin from the bag, I gently dab up the blood, and then, folding it into a thick pad, I hold it over the scrape on her leg and use my handkerchief to tie it in place. "How's that?" I ask, lifting her to stand in front of me. "Better?" "Yes," she nods, then throwing her arms about my neck, she kisses me softly and says, "Thank you." "You're welcome," I say, hugging her back. "Do you want to go home?" "Uh-uh," she shakes her head. "It's better now. See?" She takes a few steps, grimacing once as her thighs brush together. "Well, OK if you're sure," I say, pushing myself to my feet and taking her hand, "Come on, let's watch these two burn their bums on the slide." My little joke has the desired effect, cheering her up a little and making her giggle softly. She then looks up at me and asks, "Can I have the splinter so I can show Mummy?" "Sure," I say. "If we can find it." All three of us cast about the blanket, and a minute later, Rene gives a triumphant cry, holding her hand up with the splinter between thumb and forefinger. Taking it from her, I find an empty baggie in my bag, seal it inside, and drop it in with their knickers. Hand in hand, we follow Alison and Rene to the big spiraling slide, and watch them climb the ladder, their little white bums flashing at us from beneath their skirts. At the top, Alison makes a production of sitting on the back of her skirt and pushes off with a whoop of joy, quickly descending to the bottom and running back around to the ladder. Rene too carefully tucks her dress under her bottom as she sits down and descends with a delighted shriek that ends with a grunt as she lands with a bump in the coarse sand at the bottom. After watching them a couple of times, Anna decides that she is well enough to have a go for herself. Little white bum flashing under her skirt, she climbs the ladder and, shrieking happily, she descends to the bottom. The next time around, she wants to make a train, and she wants me to join in. The other two gleefully fall in with her idea, and a moment later, I find myself ascending the ladder with three cute white bottoms and flashing hints of hairless pink cracks above me. As they are ascending in order of age, I find Alison's bum almost in my face, and a sweet musky odor in my nose that almost sends me wild with desire. A second later, it is in my face, as she suddenly stops and thrusts it back. I blow a zoober into the pale soft flesh of her flawless young backside, making her squeal with laughter and push back against me. Opening my mouth, I gently bite into her tender white bottom, and she gets the hint, pulling away with a final shimmy and a giggle. When we reach the little platform at the top, Anna asks incredulously of Alison, "Did you just fluff in his face?" "No, silly," Alison giggles in reply, "He blew a fart on my bottom." "Well, she stuck it in my face," I say defensively, as Anna turns a wide-eyed stare on me. Giggling, they arrange themselves at the top of the slide, holding onto the sides while I slide my legs in beside them and wrap my arms about their waists. With whoops of joy, they let go, and quickly gathering speed, we descend to the bottom. Just before we reach it, I let go of the girls, letting them shoot off the bottom in a happily shrieking tangle of arms and legs, stopping myself so that I don't land on top and crush them. On the next ascent of the ladder, Rene takes the rear, and about halfway up, she presents her tiny bottom for a zoober. Smiling, I set her flesh aquiver, delighting in the sweet sound of her laughter so much that I have to press my lips to the other side and do it again. At the top, Alison gives me a mock dirty look for the double blast I'd given her sister as they take up their positions and wait for me to slip in behind them. As we descend, Alison's hair flies back, tickling my face, and my laughter joins theirs. Once again, I dump them, shrieking with shrill girlish laughter, into the sand. As they land in a jumbled heap, they give me tantalizing glimpses of their sweet young pussies as they untangle themselves. On the third ascent, the other two push a furiously blushing Anna to the rear, but as she makes no actual objection, I don't interfere. As we ascend, I drink in the enchanting view of her little white buns and the tight slit that briefly appears and vanishes at the top of her thighs. Indeed, I'm so engrossed in the sight that when she stops, I continue, bumping into her, my nose slipping between her small white buttocks. She squeals at the unexpected contact, almost falling back against me, then steadies herself, waiting for me to blow into the milky white flesh. Happy, nay, eager to comply, I blow half a dozen or so quick zoobers on her little bottom, making her squeal joyfully and pull away, then push back for more. When I stop, I imagine I can detect a slight whiff of little girl musk as she falteringly finishes her ascent. At the top, as we slip into place, I overhear her confide in a whisper to Alison, "That made my pussy place tingle." Alison giggles in reply, saying nothing, as she waits for me to slip in behind them. At the bottom of our whooping descent, I brake myself only briefly before throwing myself over the giggling trio, catching myself on my hands as they shriek in mock terror. Having exhausted the possibilities of the slide, they tow me over towards the intricate jungle gym and start swarming all over it, Alison then Rene flashing their backsides at me whenever the opportunity presents itself. A minute or so later, Anna blushingly joins in, deliberately facing me and climbing the ladder to the monkey bars two steps at a time. As their play continues, they become bolder in their activities, vying with each other to see who can put on the naughtiest show, consciously facing me as they climb and turning their backs to me whenever they bend over. As my cock stiffens in my pants, Rene ups the ante, grasping a low bar and somersaulting through her arms, briefly hanging with her dress in the small of her back and her bottom on display, before dropping to the sand and standing up. Anna's blushing display starts with her climbing the ladder of the monkey bars two at a time, then pulling herself onto the top and crawling along to the center. Then, turning sideways, she grabs the rail beside her knees and drops, swinging back and forth a few times. With her dress pulled high by her arms stretched above her head, the hem barely covers her pussy, and as it flaps in the breeze of her motion, I'm treated to tantalizing brief glimpses of her little slit.A few seconds later, she drops to the sand, her knees bending to take the impact and then falls back onto her hands, her amazingly mature mound with its tight young slit on deliberate display for several seconds before she brings her widespread thighs together and pushes herself to her feet. Blushing furiously, she turns to watch what Alison will do. Alison's lewd display begins with her climbing onto the top of the monkey bars and straddling them, her tight denim skirt bunched up around her waist as she humps her way along to the middle. Then, checking to be sure we are watching, she hooks her legs over one bar and lowers herself between it and the next, briefly hanging by her hands and knees. Then, letting go with her hands, she hangs upside down, her smooth, hairless mound bulging prominently at the junction of her thighs as she swings back and forth. Then, pulling herself back up, she somersaults through her arms and spreads her legs wide for a couple of seconds before letting go and dropping to the sand. Rising with a smirk for me, she takes Anna aside, their heads together as they talk, punctuating their whispers with wicked little giggles on Alison's part and embarrassed ones on Anna's. I worry for a bit that Alison might spill the beans, but though Anna does throw a few looks my way, they are those of a little girl making sure they are not being overheard, and I decide that Alison will be discreet. Well, sort of discreet anyway. Taking a pouting Rene by the hand, I lead her over to where a flying fox runs between two platforms and lift her onto the higher of the two. Climbing onto the lower one, I throw the handle up to where she can catch it. As she reaches up to grasp the handhold, her dress rides up, revealing a tiny hint of her puffy little slit. With a wild yell, she throws herself from the platform. As her full weight falls onto her arms, her dress rides even higher, the hem level with the top of her slit. She slides down the gently inclined rail, with increasing speed until she reaches the bottom, then as the handle comes to an abrupt halt, she continues forwards, falling into my arms with a happy shriek. Giving her bottom a quick squeeze under her dress, I lift her back to the handle and give her a push up to the other platform where Alison catches her. Then, taking hold of the handle herself, Alison throws herself at me as hard as she can, lifting her legs high and wide as she rushes towards me. Not wanting to be hit by her flying feet, I quickly move between them, and she hits me high in the chest, the impact knocking me over backwards. Looking down at me from her seat astride my chest, she giggles and rises to her knees and then stands, the white flesh of her sweet, young pussy starkly visible in the shadows beneath her skirt. As I prepare to push her back up to the other platform, I take a handful of her bottom, sliding my thumb under the short hem of her skirt and briefly rubbing it along the damp crease between her legs, making her squeal and push back against me. I caress her little pussy for a few seconds, coating my thumb with her juices, then send her on her way up to the younger girls. While Anna's attention is diverted by catching Alison, I quickly lick the sweet nectar of Alison's pussy juices from my thumb and take up station, sitting right on the edge of the platform, squarely beneath the rail. As she shoves off, Anna too lifts her legs and parts them, giving me a perfect view of her little pussy as she rushes towards me, but this time I am better prepared for the impact, catching her in my arms and lowering her to my lap, where the solid lump of my erect prick presses against her pussy, through the thick material of my jeans. It takes her a few seconds to realize what is pressing against her, and when she does, she blushes prettily and quickly pulls herself to her feet. Not wanting to scare her, I send her back with a simple push on the bottom and wait for her to hand over the handle to Rene. As soon as Rene is on her way, Anna goes into a huddle with Alison, their glances in my direction making it obvious that she is telling the bigger girl about feeling my cock. A second later, Rene thumps into my chest and slides down into my lap, my hands cupping the warm globes of her bare little bottom beneath her skirt. I give them a quick squeeze, pulling her against me and gently rocking her up and down a few times, making her giggle. I then lift her up and shove her back towards the other girls. This time around, I manage to withstand the considerable impact of Alison thumping into me and remain upright as she slides down into my lap, where she briefly rubs herself against me, then with a wicked smile, she places her hand in my lap and gives my cock a quick squeeze as she pushes herself upright. When she turns to grasp the handle of the flying fox and I lift my hand to fondle her wet little pussy, she thrusts her bum back at me, impaling herself on my thumb with a soft squeak. After giving her tight little cunt a couple of quick pokes with my thumb, I suck the my thumb clean behind her back, savoring the sweet ambrosial taste of her sexual fluids, then send her on her way. As Anna comes flying towards me, I see Alison say something to Rene and decide that this will be the last time, as the look Rene gives me makes me shudder to think what she might do to top her sister. A moment later, Anna makes it definite. As she approaches with a wild whoop, she lifts her legs too high and they go either side of my head. Catching her with my hands about her waist, I allow myself to fall backwards, absorbing the momentum of her impact with my arms. I finish with her sitting on my face, her little pussy against my lips. As I lift her from me, I can't resist blowing a raspberry into her skin at the point where her prominent mound begins to curve outwards from her belly, just above her slit. With a wild, giggling squeal, she rolls to one side, and I worry that I've scared her, but when I sit up, I find her sitting with her back to the other girls as she inspects her pussy. She blushes when she notices me watching, but instead of covering up, she points at her fat clit, rubbing it gently with her fingertip as she whispers, "That made me feel all tingly right here." "Did you like it?" I ask. "Uh-huh," she nods, continuing to rub her clit, "and rubbing it like this makes it feel even better." "Well, you'd better stop it now," I say, "You can try it some more later." Waving at the other two to join us, I jump down from the platform and swing Anna in a big circle as I lift her down. Big mistake, Rene comes flying up to me begging me to swing her around too. Laughing, I take her and Anna by the hand and lead them out onto a soft grassy spot. Then, waving Anna back, I slip my hands under Rene's arms from behind and clasp them across her chest. Lifting her feet off the ground, I start spinning faster and faster, until her feet are aimed at the horizon and she squeals with delight. When I slow down and release her, she takes two staggering steps then falls in a heap. She tries to stand up several times, giggling wildly as she falls back to the turf over and over again. Finally, she gives up and rolls onto her back, her eyes rolling in her head as she stares up at the spinning clouds, unconcerned that her dress is bunched up above her waist. Giving me little time to recover, Anna claims her turn, pulling my hands under her arms and putting them together in front of her chest. Smiling at her enthusiasm, I entwine my fingers and start spinning. When I release her thirty seconds later, she doesn't even manage a single step before collapsing on top of Rene with a giggle. Waving Alison away, I lean forwards, my hands on my knees as I recover my breath and sense of balance. When I do straighten up, she immediately places her wrists in my hands and asks me to spin her that way. Groaning, I start turning slowly, with her taking a few running steps before she lifts her legs from the ground. As I pick up speed, I lean back, spinning faster and faster until I'm almost stumbling over my own feet. A few seconds later, I start slowing down until her toes brush the grass. Pulling her knees up a little, she twists, trying to get her feet under her as she comes in for a landing. A moment later, she deliberately digs her heels into the turf, tumbling to the ground, shrieking as she pulls me down on top of her. Laughing, I start attacking her ribs, tickling her unmercifully in revenge. As she squirms, her shirt pulls from her skirt, exposing a widening expanse of lightly tanned skin. Then, as soon as her cute little belly button comes into view, I press my lips to it and blow hard. Shrieking loudly, she brings her knees up, trying to protect her belly from my assault, but I'm too quick for her. Slipping my hands beneath her, I hold her pressed to my lips as I blow raspberry after raspberry into her belly button, not stopping until her struggles weaken and she begins to gasp for breath. Sitting back, I look down on her as she lies gaping like a goldfish trying to draw air into her tortured lungs. I notice that her shirt has ridden up under her arms and her skirt has rucked up around her waist. I let her recover for a little while, then, pinning her flat, I blow three last raspberries, one each on her puffy titty mounds and a final sustained blast at the top of her mound, right over her clit. This last makes her arch her back and force her sweet little pussy hard against my lips. When I look up, I meet Rene's wide-eyed stare, while beside her, Anna just smiles, her hand gently rubbing her mound through the fabric of her dress as she remembers the sensation a similar treatment had induced in her own pussy. Below me, Alison gives me a curious little smirk as she rearranges her clothes. "Well, I don't know about you lot," I say, slowly pushing myself to my feet, "but I'm pooped."Leaving them to do as they wish, I only slightly exaggerate my stagger as I make my way over to the blanket and sit down. Pulling a half-empty bottle of Fanta from the ice in the esky, I take a long pull. As I lower the bottle, Rene snatches it from my grasp and takes a drink, before passing it on to Anna, who in turn passes it on to Alison, who drains the last couple of mouthfuls and tosses the bottle onto the blanket. Then, turning to me, she asks, "Can Anna come home with us and play in the spa?" Her request is echoed in the pleading eyes of the other two girls. "I don't know," I reply slowly. "I think her mother wants her to go and visit her dad in the hospital." "No, she doesn't," Anna says. "I have to stay outside with the nurses." "Come on, let's ask her then," Alison says, grabbing my hand and trying to tug me to my feet. A moment later, Rene and Anna take hold of my other hand, and I allow them to pull me to my feet. But when they try to lead me towards the bike track, I hold back, saying, "Let's get packed up here first, and then I'll drive us around." They're so eager to get going that in less than a minute, they have the rubbish stuffed in the bin, and everything else packed away. As Alison and Anna start hauling the esky across the grass, I ask, "Hey, haven't you forgotten something?" As they turn back to me, I extract their knickers from my bag and hold them up. Giggling, they leave the esky and take their undies from my hand. Then, after they have slipped them on, I suggest that they leave the esky to me and concentrate on the rest. A minute later, after giving Anna her splinter, I slam the boot and bundle them into the back seat. Almost before the car has stopped, they tumble out of the car and are flying up the drive towards the caravan, only at the last minute do they remember the baby and come to a sudden halt as they wait for me to catch up.

Chapter 10 - Rene Too

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/10185.txt

Adrian Hunter

A Turn Of The Page

"And as you can see in this chart, our yield requirements exceed industry standards by a significant percentage..." They aren't listening to me, Vivian decided. They're staring at my legs. Christ, I would, too, if I saw someone wearing a skirt this short. No, they're scoping out my breasts. That one on the left can't believe he might actually be seeing nipple rings under my shirt. And the fat guy in the back is trying to decide if I'm wearing thigh-highs or a garter belt. Fuck Kit anyway. Well, at least they're going to agree to my lowball offer. Hell, they'll probably throw in a dedicated CSR, 120-day credit terms and same-hour delivery. And then they'll fight like starving sharks to be my account manager. Vivian clicked mechanically through her PowerPoint presentation, numbly reciting her company's supplier demands with all the enthusiasm of a Catholic sixth-grader declining Latin verbs. Watch the arm movements, she reminded herself. This stupid jacket doesn't close all the way, and the last thing you want to do is give them a clear shot at your chest, the details of which were embarrassingly obvious through the ribbed white fabric of this too-tight turtleneck. Just get through it, she kept telling herself. Answer their questions with monosyllables. Stare back. Intimidate with extreme prejudice. Crucify their little fantasies. Make their balls wither away in well-deserved fear. Well deserved. That about sums it up. Especially after what she did to Kit. She really didn't want to go to his high-school reunion, but she certainly wasn't going to let him run free amidst a bonfire of former flames. And she did like the way the bent metal tube of the chastity device made his crotch bulge. Especially in those stiff new Levi 501s she bought him for the occasion. They must have felt like sandpaper without underwear. Three days. Oh, he wasn't pleased at all. But it had been her turn. And now, the chickens...no, make that the cocks...had come home to roost. Trust him to find a way to make her crotch bulge, too. Vivian came to a discussion slide, and gratefully plopped down into the nearest chair in what passed for a conference room in this factory time forgot that would make even Dickens cringe. He's way overdue for a message, she thought as the crack/cracker management team did their collective best to roll their tongues back into their Pabst-poisoned mouths. No sooner had this thought crossed her mind when the SkyWriter erupted between her legs. "We require a Unix-based client to run our just-in-time or...oh..." "Are you OK, ma'am?" 7-8-9-10...Vivian waited for the buzzing to subside. Exhale. "Yes, I'm fine, thanks." Less than a minute to go before the next alert. Better get moving... "Gentlemen, will you excuse me for a moment? I need to..." She picked up her purse and stormed out the door before they could respond. What, like they were going to say no? They would give each other blowjobs if she so much as raised an eyebrow at them. Vivian practically trotted down the hall to the ladies' room, her heavy bag banging against her black-stockinged thigh. They probably haven't cleaned this pit since Carter lost to Reagan. She jerked open the door to the first toilet, turned and fiddled with the lock until the bar finally passed through the hasp, then sat down on the open seat and hiked up the navy-blue dishrag that was passing for her skirt today. The pager was vibrating its annoying reminder for the third time when she finally pulled it out of the special pocket sewn into the front panel of her trashy new black-lace panties. Yes, yes, you bastard, I'm here, she fumed as she manipulated the cyclops control pad to read the latest message from her so-called lover. "OPEN THE PACKAGE I ASKED YOU TO PUT IN YOUR PURSE. INSERT IN BACK." Oh, lord, no...she reached into her bag and pulled out the gaily gift-wrapped box. She had had a bad feeling about this one all day long. Sure enough, a butt plug, a good four inches long and made of that slimy gel plastic. Translucent green. Charming. At least the prick was kind enough, or perhaps cruel enough, to have included a tiny tube of lubricant. She forced herself to proceed as instructed. Might as well get this over with. After all, it's only going to get worse. She used up the entire contents greasing the sides of the sickly-colored probe, then stood up, positioned its tip, grimaced, and pushed it past her protesting anus into her rectum until its base was flush with her smooth cheeks. A dull gray fog tinged the corners of her vision. God, that's...that's...full. Her breaths were coming ragged, fast and hoarse. Get a grip, Viv. You've got a show to finish. She selected "reply," "OK" and "send" on the pager. Last thing she was going to do was give Kit the satisfaction of a custom response. Better get cleaned up before they send a search party. She hiked up her panties, jammed the pager back into its pocket, tugged down her miniskirt and flushed for effect. I can do this, she told herself again and again and again until she almost believed it. She exited the stall and checked herself in the mirror. Flushed. Hell, she looked like she was in heat. She caught a glimpse of the silhouette of her breasts behind her jacket. Yep, those are nipple rings, alrighty. Probably the first time these slowbots have ever seen 'em. They were the day's second buzzbomb from Kit. He had made her pull off the road en route to the factory to put them on. Right there on the interstate. Luckily, nobody was feeling Samaritan enough to stop to "help" her this morning. The rings weren't the real deal, thank god, but close enough; she had practically needed pliers to pull the ends of the shiny gold hoops apart so she could position them realistically around her nipples. The squeezing had been unbearable at first, worse than clamps, but now she barely noticed them, except of course when she did something silly like move her body. Jesus. If she skipped the part about her company's endless quality assurance obsession, she just might get out of here alive. Oh, Kit is going to regret this for many years to come. Then again, that's exactly what he was thinking in California every time he had sit down to pee. She stifled a giggle. They were such a pair. Back in the conference room, she caught her quarry in the midst of what was either a group deathbed confession or the makings of a very serious-stakes betting pool. Guess again, chawbrains. This meat's taken, thank you very much. She began regurgitating her spiel, doing her living best to keep the cutest parts of her body at least partly concealed behind the "business suit" Kit had chosen for her that day. He must have bribed the staff at Euphoria to open so early. When she received that first page with the address of the city's finest gutterflash emporium, she figured it was some kind of snipe hunt. But no, they were waiting for her. "Oh, madamoiselle, we have just the thing for you today." Yeah, right. So what happened to the clothes I was wearing when I came in? Not to mention my flat shoes? And how had Kit known to page her at the exact moment she was planning to erupt in a scene that would make Faye Dunaway in "Mommie Dearest" look like a newborn mouse in the ferocity sweepstakes? "KEEP NOTHING BUT THE PANTIES AND THE PAGER." She'd seen the two-way unit before. Kit had been using a beta model since last summer to send and receive wireless email as well as the usual phone numbers and Esperanto text messages from his office. He could be anywhere...across town, across the country, right behind her...and his notes would arrive seconds after he sent them. The note in the box on her doorstep had said to not touch any of the settings. Obviously, he had programmed the damn thing to vibrate when it received a message, and it had some kind of repeater function that kicked in if she didn't read what he sent right away. The box had also contained smaller packages for the faux nipple rings and the plug. And that was it, until she got to Euphoria. OK, my breasts are on fire, my ass feels like it's a duffel bag for a baseball bat, and these five guys are going to have extremely vivid and debasing dreams about me for the rest of their lives, especially because I hear myself giving them my company's business without much of a tussle just so I can haul out of here yesterday. And where might you be going, Vivian? Good question. As she was shaking the hand of the plant's general manager, the pager sang its happy song again in her crotch.Once he established she wasn't wearing a device on her hip, he gave her a look that combined equal parts mental retardation and Larry Flynt. Kit. Must. Die. "HOPE THE MEETING WAS A HUM-DINGER," she read once she got into her car. "HEAD EAST ON THE INTERSTATE." Right away, sir. She left at least a pound of rubber from each tire in the gravel of the parking lot as she peeled away in a manner that would give Shirley Muldowney pause for concern. East. That gives him up to 3,000 miles to mess with her mind. And her mound. Before she knew it, she caught herself doing 85 as she weaved around tractor-trailers as if they were pylons. Hey, what's the rush, sister? He knows where you're going, so sit back and try to enjoy the ride. Sure, don't pay that little old pager in your panties no nevermind at all. It'll say howdy soon enough. An hour later, Vivian decided she was having an aneurysm blowout in slow motion, every heartbeat paused breathlessly in anticipation of the inevitable. Tori Amos yodeled something about Christ and coming through the car's rear speakers. Funny. She didn't remember having the "Little Earthquakes" tape in the car recently. Oh. Duh. Ha ha. Bzzzzzrrrrrrr. FUCK! Vivian almost swerved into the railing. The second she had stopped thinking about it... She merged right and reached between her legs. Hope moisture doesn't affect this little bugger's performance. "GET OFF AT THE TRUCK STOP AFTER THE NEXT EXIT. I'D EAT A HEARTY LUNCH IF I WERE YOU. BE SURE TO SIT AT THE COUNTER." Vivian's shoulders sagged. Oh well, she was definitely starving. And where better to load up on carbs and animal flesh? The tilt-cab cowboys in the main restaurant didn't bother with even the modicum of restraint the factory droids had mustered in her presence. Did men still really wolf-whistle? Apparently, not to mention repeatedly. She tried hard to not inhale her food, but it wasn't easy to properly masticate when more than 100 pairs of Ray-Bans were glued to her aching butt. Then the SkyWriter thrummed industriously against her pussy, and she figured she didn't really need a slice of pie for dessert anyway. She wiped her mouth, swiveled and burned a hole through the forehead of some land whale who was getting up from a booth with much snickering encouragement from his buddies. Leaving a twenty on the counter, she blew into the parking lot like a hollow-point coming out of a Luger. Open car door. Sit. Close door. Extricate pager. Push button once, twice, and... "YOU LOOK LIKE YOU NEED A COLD SHOWER. LUCKY FOR YOU, THIS FINE ESTABLISHMENT HAS PUBLIC FACILITIES. LEAVE THE RINGS AND PLUG IN PLACE." "No fucking way." She stared at the tiny display screen and fumed. If he thinks I'm going to expose myself to a bunch of flabby, dain-bramaged diesel dipshits...no, they've got to have a separate bathroom for women. After all, where else would the hookers clean up? She sighed extravagantly and pressed the necessary sequence to respond. And they probably won't have my kind of shampoo to boot. As it turned out, Vivian was glad to have a clean towel. Thankfully, she was the only patron, and the cashier seemed accustomed to slutty-looking women in need of a quick cleansing in the middle of the day. She couldn't help flashing back to gym class as she stood naked on the grungy white tile as a trickle of lukewarm spit splashed listlessly against her limbs. When she figured she was covered with more water than sweat, she hurriedly put back on her Barbie clothes. As she was pulling up the hateful panties, she felt a short buzz. He must have sent another message while she was still in the shower. He's losing his touch, she smiled as she called it up on the LCD. "FIND LOCKER #244. COMBINATION 13-6-22. K." Speaking of high school...Vivian wandered down the open hallway alongside the shower building until she found the metal door in question. Right, left, right, click. The truck-stop motel key dangled like a noose from the metal hook in the locker's ceiling. She found herself singing "we're off to see the wizard" under her breath as she searched for the room in question. All the way in the back. Figures. Would he be waiting for her inside? No, that would be letting her off much too easily. She turned the lock and opened the door. Pretty standard fleabag furnishings. Nice Formica kitchenette set. What's that ladder doing against the wall though? It took a moment to register the handcuffs tied to the top rung and the leather cuffs attached to the rails near the floor. And then she saw the camcorder mounted on a tripod. Pointed right at the ladder. Running. "Mark my words, Kit. I'm going to..." Hey, that's me on the TV set... Hello, chirped the pager. Vivian purposely strode out of the viewfinder's range to retrieve his latest missive. "REMOVE YOUR SKIRT, JACKET AND TURTLENECK. PUT ON WHAT'S IN THE BEDSIDE TABLE. CUFF YOUR ANKLES, REPLY TO ME, THEN CUFF YOUR WRISTS." At first, she was surprised to see the polished stones gleaming like oversized marbles in the drawer, until she noticed they were topped with bell caps and hooks that were obviously supposed to loop around her nipple rings. And naturally, she also found a no-win ball gag with straps for under her chin, across her cheeks and around her forehead as well as a thick one with a padlocked clasp for behind her head. Bzzzzzrrrrrrr. SHIT! Now what? "HANG THE SIGN ASKING FOR MAID SERVICE ON THE DOORKNOB." Vivian shuddered. First thing he'd see when he got to the room. And she would be spread against the wall in prime condition for disobedience rectification. She hefted the weight rocks and guided them to her pinioned pink knobs. Not awful, she decided. Yet. The gag took a minute to decipher, untangle and position over her hair. She hesitated before snapping the lock shut. No return from here on out. Like there was an escape hatch before? For you, Kit. Click. Vivian immediately regretted not hanging the sign on the door first. She slipped it open just far enough to stick her hand out, relieved to not find the housemaid poised to knock. With luck, Consuela is turning tricks in a sleeper cab. Or that ratfink will show up first. How long is that tape in the camcorder anyway? Two hours? Four? Christ, six? She didn't dare stop it to check. Pretty obvious evidence. Speaking of which, she'd better get into position as instructed. The wooden ladder was leaning against the wall at a slight angle. Vivian lay back against it. Tolerable. She stared at her image on the TV screen. The heels, stockings and garter belt...definitely over the top. She hated to admit that she looked pretty hot in the panties though. And it was very strange to see herself gagged and pseudo-pierced. On with the show... On closer inspection, she realized the ankle cuffs weren't tied to the rails. No, they were bolted. And more padlocks for the hasps. The handcuffs were also permanently to the top rung installed via an eyelet bolt and a lock through the center link. She bent over to secure her feet, then reached up and snapped a cuff around one wrist. Oh shit, I'm supposed to reply. With her free hand, she reached between her legs and worked the pager control pad with her thumb. There you go. Supper's ready, dear. Vivian put the black box back into its pocket, took a deep breath through her nose, and completed her self-imprisonment. She felt her body tense, especially in her still-plugged bottom. Her chest trembled from the combination of a pounding heart and chugging lungs. She strained to listen for the slightest noise in the hallway, her eyes jumping from the door to the TV screen with herself starring in what looked like a halfway-decent bondage vidcap. When the pager went off, she instinctively tried to reach for it, and almost fell over. Oh, that's...that's... Not going to stop until he gets here. The first reminder came a minute later. Then another long blast, followed rapidly by a third. He's sending multiple messages, she realized. He could send dozens...hundreds... She trembled involuntarily and pushed her groin out in a futile effort to dislodge the machine from its frilly holster. Reality dawned on her with the subtlety of a sledgehammer. Oh, lord. He's going to use the damn thing to make me come. Slowly. Randomly. Eventually. And he's going to see every minute of it. And so am I.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/14281.txt

Zifferman

Story: Clinton 2

"Yes, I am married, Mr. President," she responded, absent-mindedly bringing her left hand to her chest just below her neck to display her wedding ring. Bill leaned back and admired her. "My, my, my, your husband sure is a lucky fellow." "Thank you." She was as nervous as she could recall. She was beginning to fidget in her seat. Unconsciously, she began to rub her buttocks on the seat cushion. Bill smiled as he watched her fidget. He knew that her squirming was due to her arousal. Her labia were apparently swelling open. Bill liked the way her jacket highlighted her large breasts and the way the material was nipped in at the waist. He also liked the way her skirt clung to her well-sculpted thighs in a sensual fashion which highlighted her overall sensuality. He could see that she wore no foundation garments, and from what he could determine from the slight sway and jiggle of her breasts, she didn't wear a bra either. Everything on her body was real and genuine. No padded bras, no silicone implants, no tummy tucks of any sort. Her beauty came from genetics, not from a plastic surgeon. He would like to explore more of that beauty. Indeed, he would like to strip her bare, spread her wide, and examine her closely. He had difficulty deciding where to focus his attention. Breasts or thighs? Face or ass? Calves or nipples? Decisions! Decisions! The work of a horny President was ceaseless and never-ending. Again, Phyllis's heart went out to the President. The way he gazed at her made her feel like the winner of the Miss America beauty pageant. The blush in her cheeks deepened. She felt as if she were on display in the front window at Macy's. The President had a hunch he was getting through to her. "You know, you've been asking me questions, do you mind if I ask you a few?" "Well, I suppose not," she replied. He noted that she had a shy and retiring way about her. He liked that. Modesty was as much of a turn-on as a woman who was blatantly sexual. He knew Phyllis wasn't the type to initiate sexual activity with her husband. She was probably one of those girls who was happy to lay on her back in the missionary position and do what the husband wanted, when he wanted. She probably didn't spread her thighs very wide during intercourse. Girls like that were rare in modern-day America. Because of their rarity, they were that much more fun to fuck. "Do you mind if we retire to your dressing room?" he asked. "I would be much more comfortable talking with you there." Phyllis looked around her. "Er... this is most unusual." "Say yes, please. I want to do the interview, but I wish to do it in private." If it were anyone besides the President of the United States who had requested that of Phyllis, she would have adamantly refused. But how could a tax-paying citizen of the United States refuse a request made by the President? It just wasn't possible. She had to obey. It was her civic duty as a law-abiding non-felon American. She prided herself on being a dutiful taxpayer. After all, she was a good girl. All good girls did their duty. She grabbed her clipboard and pressed it to her comely breasts. The womanly mounds of flesh flattened slightly under the pressure. She noted that the nipples had turned into hard little pebbles. She wondered why. Usually, they only did that when she was aroused. It had been a considerable amount of time since she had last been aroused. Her husband, Harry, had stopped arousing her a year ago. Sex had become an infrequent event. "All right," she said. "Come with me." Oh, he intended to come with her all right. In fact, he intended to cum with her several times during the course of the afternoon. He smiled wickedly at his own joke. He smacked his lips as he watched her rise from the chair. He took special delight in surveying her. Every time she moved, some part of her body moved as well. He followed immediately behind her. He watched the shapely butt of the shapely reporter sway to and fro with that unmistakable female rhythm. There was nothing more alluring than the sight of a female ass in motion. Mmmmm! Mmmmm! Over the years, he had sampled a lot of pussy, but by far the best pussy belonged to those women who knew how to shake their ass with vim and vigor while stepping along. That shaking indicated the ability to provide a nice tumble in the sack. It meant that the woman knew her stuff. Mmmmm! Mmmmm! From all appearances, Phyllis knew all about shaking her shapely ass. The rhythmic hip movements indicated either of two things: first, that she already knew how to move that ass while fucking; or secondly, that she was a woman who wanted to learn. Bill smiled. He was going to have a wonderful time discovering exactly how many ways she could move her ass. Mmmmm! Mmmmm! Was she the woman who merely moved it from side-to-side, or was she able to swirl it around like a corkscrew too? Mmmmm! Mmmmm! Just thinking about such salacious hip movements set off some significant movements in his pecker. The sperm was beginning to surge in the base of his balls. His cock was beginning to fill with the syrup of love. The moment that Phyllis stepped into her dressing room and closed the door, she realized that she had made a mistake in agreeing to an interview away from the cameras. She sensed the President walking up behind her. She felt him breathing down her neck. She was just getting ready to protest when she was pulled around to face him. "Phyllis, baby!" "Mr. President!" she gasped in alarm while looking up into his face. "What on earth do you think you're doing?" She worried about his motives. She had seldom been handled so roughly by a man before. She had certainly never expected the President of the United States to make a move on her. "I just want to sample those sweet lips of yours," he said. "But Mr. President," she exclaimed with a raised voice. "I'm a married woman." She brought her hands up to his chest so that her forearms wedged between their bodies. He looked at her with a sultry smile and a sneer on his lips. "So what?" he asked. "I'm a married man." She could see that he was challenging her. His eyes bore directly into hers. She could feel his penetrating gaze all the way to the tips of her toes. "I know that, Mr. President. That's why I don't think you should be behaving in such a manner. I don't kiss other men." "Oh, come on now. Surely you can give me just one more little kiss! What would be the harm in that?" "I... I... think that we ought to terminate the interview." "Terminate an interview with the President of the United States?! What would the head of your network say to that?" Phyllis gulped. She knew that Bill had a valid point. If word leaked out that a rookie reporter had terminated an interview with the President, her cushy job as a Washington journalist would be terminated. Good lord! That meant no more parties in Georgetown! That meant no more dining in fabulous restaurants. Good grief! That meant no more expense account! Heaven forbid! That would be the worst thing to befall an overpaid television reporter. Her refusal might result in her being sent off to one of those awful places like Rwanda, or Bosnia, or perhaps... Boise! Egad! She would rather face a firing squad than be sent to Boise. Death would be preferable to such an assignment. She now knew that she would do whatever the President requested. She liked her cushy reporting job too much to jeopardize it. Actually, she liked her megabuck salary and all the wonderful perks which went with it even more. There weren't too many jobs like hers where all one had to do was look pretty and stand in front of a camera for five minutes per day. She got paid handsomely for basically being a lovely talking head. Bill could see that she was thinking things over. Ah yes! He loved modern American society. People were so fucking scared of losing their job (if they were lucky enough to have one which paid a decent salary), that they would do anything to keep it. "Tell me, doll, how would you like to have an assignment inside the White House Press Office?" Those words caught her attention. "Excuse me?" she asked, confused. Nothing excited a female reporter more than the possibility of being invited to the White House. The only thing more exciting was being offered a job in the White House. And the only thing better than that was being offered a job in the White House press office. That was the top of the pyramid. That was the best slot in the business."Could you please run that by me again, Mr. President?" He smiled his famous heart-warming smile which had won him so many votes in the last election. In fact, he practically grinned from ear to ear. Now that he knew he was getting through to her, he decided to lay it on thick. That was the nice thing about having power - he could wheel and deal his way between the thighs of practically any beautiful woman. Just like men, women all had their price. Keeping his grin in place, he said, "Just imagine, you wouldn't have to do this on-the-road crap anymore. During the middle of the winter, you wouldn't have to stand out in the cold on the White House lawn. You could stay inside and keep your titties warm. And during the summer, you wouldn't have to stand out in the blazing sun and humidity and worry about mussing your pretty hair. No rain, no snow, no sleet, no hail. Just the comforts of working in the White House. Wouldn't that be nice? Mmmmm! Wouldn't you like an assignment like that?" Phyllis blinked her eyes. She thought that she might be dreaming. An assignment inside the White House. WOW! With her own office! Double wow! And she would probably have her own secretary! Triple wow! And if this was a typical government job, she wouldn't have to work very hard and yet she would receive ten times the benefits of people in the private sector. Hot dog! That was the kind of offer which could convince a good girl to go bad. Phyllis had done nothing to earn such an assignment. Heck! She had only been with the network for a few years. She didn't even have a degree in journalism. The only thing she had going for her were her looks. But then, she noticed that her looks helped her win a lot of promotions she didn't deserve. Oddly enough, she noticed that, she always got picked for assignments because of her looks. "But... but... why are you offering me this?" she asked in a soft, trembling voice. Bill smiled seductively. He stepped closer. The breath caught in her throat as he lifted his arms and wrapped them around her. He embraced her and held her close. She could feel his warm breath on the sides of her neck. He seemed to be nuzzling it, getting ready to kiss it. He placed the tip of his nose on her earlobe. Gently, he rubbed it back and forth a few times. She found that she liked the sensation. It tickled her and made her feel good all over. She had never guessed that the earlobe was an erogenous zone. He kept his voice low as he whispered, "You have one of the most scintillating bodies I have ever seen in my life." She was feeling giddy. And yet, she was quite nervous. "I do?" she asked. "Oh yes," he replied, continuing to fiddle with her earlobe. "I would say that it's as good as a Playboy Bunny." "Oh, pshaw!" She knew she was pretty, but never thought she was pin-up material. "I mean it." He stuck out his tongue and touched the tip to her earlobe. She felt it moisten. She became momentarily breathless. Other regions of her body were also becoming moist. She couldn't help herself. The fluids just seemed to flow. "I would like to see all of you." "All of me?" "Naked." Her eyes opened wide. In fact, her eyelids seemed to have acquired the equivalent of lockjaw. They wouldn't close. She couldn't blink. Now she knew the precise reason why she had been offered a choice White House assignment. She was being coaxed to going to bed with the President of the United States. She thought such shenanigans went out of fashion with the Kennedys. Phyllis knew she had to offer some resistance before things got completely out of hand. "But Mr. President! Your wife!" Bill giggled. "Hillary?" "Yes! Think of her." "Hillary sucks." Phyllis gasped. "Mr. President. You're speaking about the First Lady!" "The First Lady is a closet dyke." "A...a...a...what?" "A fag." Once more Phyllis gasped. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. How could the First Lady of the United States be a closet homosexual? If Hillary were a dyke, what was she doing being married to Bill? "Oh no!" "Oh yes. Right now she's out in Hollywood, attending some bullshit get-together with some of her bullshit Hollywood buddies. They're all do-gooders, you know. They're either attempting to save the rain forests, or the oceans, or the beaches, or the little animals, or people who suffer from hemorrhoids, or women with leaking silicone breasts, or whatever. In the old days, there were a lot of worthwhile causes to get involved in-such as cancer, or tuberculosis, or heart disease, or Tay-Sachs. However, the Hollywood crowd has run out of truly worthwhile causes. The causes nowadays are increasingly trivial. If they can invent a cause, they do. Then they found a non-profit organization, make some spots for television and radio, and start a campaign. Of course, the actors and actresses who promote these sorts of things care far less about the causes they represent, than they do about keeping their face in front of the public. If I know my wife Hillary, she probably has her head buried between another woman's thighs and she's probably eating her out at this very second. You know, lap, lap, lap." The news stunned Phyllis. She had long heard rumors about the first lady and her sexual proclivities, but she had never believed them. "Is that really true?" she asked. "Yes... I'm afraid it is," said Bill. "But don't you have sex?" Actually, Hillary and Bill had sex all the time. In fact, they fucked more than any first family had ever fucked. (With the possible exception of the Kennedys-but then, Jack Kennedy was always busy committing adultery on Jackie.) But the Clintons had established a mutual understanding. If either one of them saw some pussy which he or she liked, he or she would share it with the other. It made for a happy homelife and a very happy White House. Sometimes, Bill and Hillary would have a threesome. Or, they would invite some of the Cabinet members in and have an orgy in the Oval Office. But Bill didn't want to tell Phyllis that. He wanted her to feel sorry for him. Then maybe she would offer him a piece of her very own succulent ass. "Mr. President! You have your hands on my buttocks!" "I know where they are, Phyllis." "I'm married. Please pull them away." She hoped that by making that statement he would do the decent thing and release her from his grip. However, the words only served to draw her closer to him. He paid no attention to her plea. Instead, he commenced rubbing her posterior with the palm of his hand. He loved the feel of a shapely woman's ass. There was something especially sensual about cupping the cheeks of the female ass in one's palms, and running one's fingers back and forth along the curvature of the flesh, while at the same time pressing one's fingers into the resilient mounds as if they were bread dough and he were a baker kneading it. He pressed her closer to him by her ass. He fixed his rod of flesh to that especially vulnerable region between the hollow of her thighs so that she could feel his arousal. He adjusted his pelvis so that she could discern the blunt end of his manhood. He wanted her to know how he felt about her. He wanted her to know he had a hard-on. She knew he had an erection all right. She felt it rubbing between her tightly clamped thighs, through the material of her skirt and his slacks. And as a result, she became even more worried about his intentions. Surely he wouldn't be so bold as to make a move on her! Surely he couldn't! He was the President of the United States, for crying out loud! But she could feel the evidence of his need. And because he held her close, she could feel every single inch of it. It was making quite an impression on her legs. She attempted to appeal to his sense of decency. "Mr. President. I really don't think this is right." "Sure it is. It's as right as rain." "No it isn't. I don't play around. Really, I don't. Honestly." He found that hard to believe. "All American women play around nowadays." "No they don't." She knew that a lot of women did in fact play around. Indeed, some of her friends committed adultery regularly. Some even went so far as to say that they couldn't go through a week without at least one new lover. "This is a hedonist society, lady. Where have you been?" "I am not a hedonist. I am a happy and proud puritan." Bill snickered. "Puritanism died a terrible death some time ago." Phyllis became defensive. "Not with me it didn't." "You're too beautiful to be a puritan." His words touched her. Like all women, she responded to being called beautiful. "I don't care. I am." "I bet that underneath that prim exterior of yours lies a woman of incredible passion and responsiveness. I bet that other side of you is yearning to break out and breathe free." "You're very wrong, Mr. President. There is no other side of me other than what you see." "What I see is quite gorgeous. Breathtakingly so." Once more she was touched. Not only did he think her beautiful, but gorgeous as well. Could he really be falling for her? Was it possible that the President of the United States wanted to have an affair with a lowly network reporter? She was quite confused by this turn of events. She was now having doubts about her avowed puritanical attitude. Perhaps she was a little too strict by today's standards. Maybe she should play the field-at least once-just to see what it was all about. Besides, when one was asked by the President to do something, wasn't it considered patriotic to follow? "I'm a lonely man, Phyllis. I really am." She knew what those words meant. She knew where his line of reasoning was going. He was preparing her for the conquest. "I don't think I can do anything for you," she cautioned. "You could ease my loneliness."You could make me seem whole again. You could satisfy my carnal needs. She took a deep breath and replied, "You have a wife to do that. You don't need me." "Hillery and I aren't sleeping together anymore. We haven't for quite some time." "Oh dear! Do you mean that you and Hillery no longer... er... You're saying that... er... I mean..." Phyllis had a difficult time framing her question. She really couldn't ask such a personal thing of him. Such questions were better left to Sam Donaldson, the cutthroat journalist. Sam was terrific with those questions which made a reporter resemble a son-of-a-bitch. The President took the opportunity to answer. "That's right. We no longer do it. Never." Phyllis knew that denial of sexual intercourse was a terrible thing to happen to a man. After all, men lived for sex. Men were always getting erections and needed someplace to put them. She knew that to be true because she was approached by wolves all the time! Many of those wolves were married and had families! But Bill wasn't like that. He couldn't be like that. After all, he was the President of the United States. And as everyone knows, Presidents don't lie (unless one excludes Lyndon Johnson for lying about ending the Vietnam War, and Richard Nixon for lying about knowing of Watergate, and George Bush for lying about raising taxes). But Phyllis was willing to give Bill the benefit of the doubt. After all, he seemed like such a warm and caring man. He seemed like such a nice fellow. She decided to be empathetic. "Oh you poor dear." Bill listened carefully to her tone of voice. He deduced that she was sincerely sympathetic. He decided that he should press matters further along. After all, he was quite horny. "My John Henry hasn't had any female relief in ages." "Your John Henry?" she asked, confused by the term. "Yes, my penis. My cock. My pecker." "Oh dear," she gasped when she had the usage verified. Now Phyllis was extremely worried. Surely the President of the United States couldn't have the same vile urges that other men did. He was supposedly a good and decent man. That's what all the campaign ads said. Did he expect her to satisfy his John Henry? Did he expect her to play with his John Henry and put it into her vagina? She certainly hoped not. She couldn't do such a thing to her husband, Harry. After all, they had been married for only a few years. They were still technically newlyweds. She was quite satisfied with her marriage. She had no intention of straying. She had no reason to cheat. "A White House assignment for a roll in the sack," Bill said with a smile on his face. Now Phyllis had a reason to cheat. Ironically, at that precise moment, she noted that she was feeling slightly aroused. She suspected the reason was because Bill had a tender way of stroking her buttocks. He was quite gentle. He took his time to lightly touch her flesh, and casually play with her posterior globes. She breathed a sigh of relief as she relaxed in his embrace. He seemed to have the hands of a gentleman. Although Phyllis didn't know it, the President also had the hands of a practiced cunthound. He had gotten laid as recently as that morning-by his wife no less. Hillery had spread her legs wide and had ridden him to blissful completion. She had even given him a blow job before he went out to hit the campaign trail. She knew that her husband thought better and spoke more dynamically when his balls had been discharged of their precious cargo. "I need a woman, Phyllis." "Oh dear." She felt his arousal pressing against her lower belly and on down to her thighs. There seemed to be a substantial knot down there. It seemed to be knocking on her pubis, asking for entrance to her feminine chamber. "But... but... Mister President." "Yes, you have a very lovely butt." Bill rubbed his palms upon it, soothingly, lovingly, and caressingly. She couldn't help responding to his agile fingers. She was feeling better with every caress. "The moment I saw you, I knew I had to have you." "Please Mister President. Don't do this to me." "Call me Bill." Phyllis didn't like referring to him by his first name. However, she would do anything to extricate herself from his pawing hands. "Please Bill." "I know you want it as much as I do." "Please." Like all women in similar situations, her resistance was rapidly vanishing. The longer he held her, the more he caressed her ass, the more insistently he pressed his manhood against her Mound of Venus, the more eager she was to consummate a relationship with the Chief Executive. It wasn't long before she began to press her pelvis against his, encouraging him. "That's it baby, rub against me. Show me that you like me." She did. She could feel her little pussy beginning to pout open. Her cunt was acting like an out-of-control animal. It wanted to go on a feeding frenzy. And she knew what it wanted. It desired cock. And not just any cock either. But Presidential cock. She began to think of the implications. She would be one of the few reporters in America who had sampled a Presidential penis. Mmmmm. For some odd reason she found that an appetizing idea. She could feel her pussy tubing at that very second. Once Bill recognized the tell-tale signs of a woman in need, he wasted no time. He pulled her blouse tails out of the waist of her skirt and, reaching up under her shirt and jacket, cupped her breasts, placing his palms beneath them and rubbing the pads of his thumbs along the underside. They felt firm and hot. "Goodness," she gasped, surprised by the wave of pleasure which rushed over her. "Now, now. There's no need to worry. It's perfectly natural." "But Mister President. I've never done anything like this before." "Neither have I," he lied. Of course, Bill Clinton did it all the time. That was the reason he had entered politics. As a youngster, he had noticed that Washington D.C. had some of the most gorgeous women in the country. Since he was a real cunthound, he naturally aspired to politics, where quality pussy was in abundance. Taking one hand from a tit, he reached down. He lifted the hem of her skirt. He angled his hand towards the vee of her thighs, which by now were slowly parting, partly from fatigue, partly from her own lust. He made a beeline for her crotch. His hand covered it. "Ooooh Mister President." He pushed aside the hem of her panties and stroked her throbbing sex. "You're moist," he said. She was embarrassed by the juices flowing out of her. In a soft whisper she replied, "Yes." "Are you ready?" "I... I... I..." She couldn't answer. She was much too flustered. He extended his index finger. Without a second's delay, he pushed it into her. "Oooh, Bill!" she gasped, puckering her lips as his fingers made progress into her sheath. It was the first time since her marriage that another man had touched her in such a blatantly sexual manner. Ironically, she felt her body responding. In fact, she welcomed the invasion into her womanly folds. To assist him, she angled her pelvis towards him while at the same time sliding her pussy downward onto his invading digit. "That's the way, babe. That's the way." "Bill, isn't this what is known as sexual harassment?" The President cringed. He didn't want to hear a question like that. As Governor, he had already been sued once for sexual harassment. He didn't want it to happen again. He had to think fast. "Oh no. This isn't sexual harassment." While his finger was inside of her pussy, she asked, "Then what is sexual harassment?" "It's when a common ordinary citizen makes an unwanted move against a member of the opposite sex. We politicians can't be guilty of sexual harassment." "But what about Senator Packwood?" The President snapped his finger. "A perfect example. He's still in office, isn't he?" "Hey! You're right. Politicians really are above the law!" "You see. That's why I'm the President. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to have you spread your lovely legs a bit more because I want to get into you much deeper." "Oh, of course." She was now so aroused, she was willing to assist him in the assault on her beautiful body. Each stroke of her pussy made her feel better. Each tickle of her twat sent her further into orbit. "Let's lie down," he suggested. "Should we?" "Of course we should." To demonstrate his need, he pushed her over to the couch where she fell backwards. Because he was so horny, he sank to his knees and lifted the hem of her skirt all the way to her waist. And to dispense with any encumbrances, he ripped the panties from her body. "Bill!" she shrieked. "Keep those legs of yours spread wide. I'm coming home." And with those words, he zeroed in on her womanly treasure. "It's muff diving time." "Muff diving? What on earth are you talking about?!" She learned the answer to that question in only a matter of a nanosecond. The leader of the Free World's tongue was soon moving up and down the length of her slit. She practically had a heart attack when she felt his flesh touch hers. "Oh. Bill! You shouldn't do that!" Even her husband didn't do that! He stuck his tongue into her slot. "Oh Bill!" He licked her liquid essence. "Oh Bill! Oh Bill! Oh Bill!" He reached up and pulled her labia wide apart so he could get his tongue more deeply into her. "Oh Bill! Bill! Bill!" Phyllis had never known such pleasures could take place. Her body responded with liquid pleasure. She was melting in Bill's embrace. She spread her legs a little wider so that he could have greater access to her choice meadow. She had never conducted an interview like this before. And she had never expected such an event to take place with a President of the United States. She now knew why he was called the Commander-in-Chief.With that tongue of his, women would follow him anywhere. "Oh Bill! Oh Bill! Oh Bill!" With each coo, sigh, and gasp, she arched her back a little more and forced her pubis against his face with that much more determination. Now that she knew the joys of cunnilingus, she wanted more. And more. And more! In fact, she wouldn't mind spending the remainder of her days supine and being licked out. She reached down between her thighs. She placed her hands on either side of her pubis. She pulled her labia apart. She wanted him to have the fullest access possible to her womanly charms. He fulfilled her silent request by making long strokes with his tongue all the way from her perineum to her clitoris. He laved the entire area until it was thoroughly drenched with both her secretions and those of his tongue. "Oh Bill!" It didn't take her long to realize that she had been shortchanged in her marriage to Harry. Her husband had never once offered to provide her with such bliss. He was from the old school. Apparently, he thought that cunt-sucking was a taboo practice. She sighed contentedly as she allowed Bill to delve. It might

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/7628.txt

Loch Raveena

"Found" Parts 2-4

"He's always been dependable," said Jerome, a little apprehensive. His eyes kept shifting from Mr. Morris to the two burly guys on either side of him and to the one at the door behind him. "He's never stolen anything, um, until now, that is." Mr. Morris smiled at Jerome. "A Hawaiian kid, you say?" "Yeah," said Jerome. He wiped his nose with the back of his hand. "One of them college kids. You know, they're our best customers." "But how did he get a whole kilo, Jerome?" Mr. Morris' smile still hadn't faded, but his blue eyes had turned to steel. "How did he get a whole kilo?" Jerome squirmed in his chair. "I don't know, Mr. Morris. I-I don't know. He asked for the regular amount, and after he left, I saw that the bags were gone." "Okay, Jerome, okay," said Mr. Morris. "You say the college - the one out on 21st?" "Yeah, that's the one. That's the one. He's one of them Hawaiians." Mr. Morris looked down at his desk, contemplating. He then picked up his phone and dialed a number. "Morris here. Get Fric & Frac out over to the college - we're looking for a Hawaiian kid. Can't be too many of 'em. Find him. He's a regular in sector 8." He hung up the phone just as quickly, then stared at Jerome. "Okay, Jerome, we'll find him. And will find the stuff, too..." Mr. Morris suddenly leaned forward and whispered, his eyes staring deep into Jerome's, "...if he's got it." Jerome squirmed in his chair some more. "Am I free to go?" Mr. Morris leaned back in his high-back chair, his hands under his chin. "Of course, Jerome, of course. It was very smart of you to come in here and tell us this. It takes balls," he said with a sparkle, "to admit that someone got the better of you. We'll take care of it. I like a guy with balls." Mr. Morris continued to stare at Jerome with his cold blue eyes. Jerome stood up from his chair and walked to the door. The distance to the door seemed like a million miles, and he felt Mr. Morris' eyes burning into his back every step of the way. The big guy at the door stared at Jerome just as seriously, briefly blocking his path before smiling and stepping aside. Jerome didn't think he'd make it to the door, and when he got there, he stiffened, expecting a bullet to come tearing through his back. When he made it outside of Mr. Morris' office, and the door closed, he breathed a huge sigh of relief. He began to laugh to himself at his paranoia even as his legs continued to shake as he walked down the hall and out of the building. What a chump! he thought. It wasn't long before the phone on Mr. Morris' desk rang. He picked it up and immediately began taking notes. He quietly put the phone back onto its receiver and looked at Jimmy "Bigs" and Donnie "Smalls." "Found," he said. He tore the note from his pad of paper and handed it to Bigs. "Get my stuff back," he said, his eyes sparkling. Bigs looked at the note and saw that it was an address. He took out his pistol and began screwing a long silencer onto the end of it. Smalls did the same. They looked at Mr. Morris, but he had his back turned to them already. He was leaning back in his chair with his feet up on the window sill looking out at the city below. A cloud of smoke lifted above the chair as he apparently lit a cigar. "You're still here?" asked the back of the chair. With that, Bigs and Smalls turned and left Mr. Morris to his city and his cigar. "The kid was lying," said Smalls as Bigs negotiated traffic as they neared 21st Street. "How do you know?" asked Bigs. "You saw him, the fucking little prick was scared to death. Now Mr. Morris wants us to go and frighten these college kids." "What do you mean, frighten?" asked Bigs. "What? You expect us to blow away innocent kids?" protested Smalls. "Who's innocent?" asked Bigs, rhetorically. "Look," said Bigs, "when will you fucking learn? We ain't philosophers - we just do what Mr. M asks, okay?" "Mr. M said 'bring me my stuff,'" said Smalls. "He didn't say 'go shoot some college kids.'" Bigs found a parking spot and turned off the car, then looked at Smalls "Listen, kid, you're giving me a fucking headache. Mr. M gave us an address and says get me my stuff. I ain't going in there asking cutesy questions! Let's just get the stuff and get the fuck out of here, if it's alright with you, that is!" "Okay, Bigs, okay," said Smalls. "Good," said Bigs, "now shut the fuck up and let's do this." "Okay," said Smalls. Smalls had to get the last word in all the time. It really irritated Bigs to no end. "I said shut up - not a fucking word!" boomed Bigs. "Alright, already!" said Smalls, again trying to out duel Bigs for the last word. "Fuck! Can't you just shut the fuck up?" screamed Bigs. "Sure," said Smalls, smiling. "Goddamn it!" yelled Bigs as he pulled out his gun and put it to Smalls' head. "Not a fucking word! Alright?" Smalls looked at Bigs and winked. "Okay," he said. Bigs stared at Smalls. The little prick wasn't backing down. "Aw, shit," said Bigs as he put his gun back in his holster. "You're a fucking pain in the ass." The two walked into the apartment and took the elevator up to the eighth floor without another word. They were professionals, and this part of their job required an all-business attitude. They walked down the hall until they got to room 814, just like the note said. Both took out their pistols with silencers and Bigs knocked on the door. There was music in the room - grinding punk music that aggravated Bigs' headache even further. "Hey, shut up, Maria's here!" said a voice inside. The music was turned down and the door opened. An athletic boy with shoulder-length blonde hair stood in the door dressed in baggy green trousers with no shirt on. Bigs lifted his pistol to the boy's firm strong chest and pulled the trigger without a word. A muffled 'pop!' filled their ears - it was the air pressure more than the sound. The kid flew backwards as though he were hit by a truck and landed in the middle of the room like a rag doll, his dead blue eyes staring off into oblivion. A large red hole appeared just to the left of his left nipple, and blood welled up from it, a line running from the wound down the side of his chest and to the carpet. He never even twitched. A startled youth jumped up from the room's sofa and turned just in time to catch a bullet from Bigs' pistol right in his middle section. As the boy's sleek body spun in the air and crumbled to the floor in a violent spasm, Bigs realized that the kid was the 'Hawaiian' that Jerome had mentioned. The boy vomited blood before his body went still, his eyes opened in surprise. A thin line of blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth. The kid had dreadlocks, Smalls saw, and thought about how cool he looked. I'm getting fucking dreadlocks, he thought to himself, as he gazed at the dead boy. As soon as my hair grows long enough! Another youth came strolling into the room dressed in - a baseball uniform. Halfway dressed, that is. He was wearing only his baseball trousers and cleats and a cutoff t-shirt with the number 23 on it. Smalls brought up his own pistol and aimed for the boy's exposed sleek belly and fired. A blue hole suddenly appeared on the athlete's smooth stomach just above his incredibly protruding belly button - Smalls had never seen a belly button like that before! - and the kid was tossed backwards onto the floor. The boy writhed on the floor, his hands cradling his narrow stomach, his navel protruding from between his hands. Smalls stood over top of him. "Where's the stuff?" he asked. "W-what?" the boy asked, his face ashen with pain and shock. "The fucking stuff! The stuff, damn it, the stuff!" The boy choked and jerked, coughing up blood which ran down his smooth cheek. His breathing grew extremely harsh and erratic, his whole body heaving with each breath. His hands slipped from his belly and to his sides, the fingers twitching. He was not going to be any help at all, realized Smalls. He walked into the kitchen then and began to open and close drawers and cupboards as he listened to the athlete's gurgling. He tore the whole kitchen apart as Bigs worked in the other room. Bigs appeared in the kitchen's doorway, the dying boy at his feet. "Anything?" he asked. "No," said Smalls, "you?" Bigs produced a brown paper bag stacked with marijuana. "Just grass," he said, "tossing the bag to Smalls. "No coke." The two had searched thoroughly and found no coke. They had not done what Mr. M had asked - they came and they searched, but there was no coke. The two walked into the living room and viewed their handiwork.The boy in the cutoff shirt was dead now, his eyes staring aimlessly up at the ceiling. Smalls looked at his belly button again. "Wow! Why can't I have one like that?" All three boys had died with their eyes open. All three were extremely cool looking in death, thought Smalls. The Hawaiian kid's stomach was exposed, too. He was slender and tanned, his navel small and shallow. The shirtless boy was also very athletic, thin and sleek. The boy died before he even hit the ground. The bubbly bullet hole in his chest was enthralling. Smalls shook his head. He then looked at the athlete with the cutoff t-shirt one more time - the one he had shot. "Look at that belly button!" said Smalls. He walked over to the athlete's corpse and bent over. He pressed the navel with his finger like he were pressing an elevator button. It was like touching rubber. More blood flowed from the dead boy's open mouth when he pressed on his belly. The kids looked like nice boys. They were just in the wrong place at the wrong time - Smalls was convinced that they were innocent. It was amazing how fate worked, said Smalls. These kids were just living life and having a good time one minute, then lay dead the next. "Shut the fuck up!" said Bigs. "What did I tell you? We ain't philosophers!" he said as they stepped out of the elevator. A girl passed them as they headed for the door. "I told you so!" said Smalls, but Bigs' mind was elsewhere. He was looking at the girl. "What?" he said as he shook her from his gaze. "The stuff," said Smalls. "I told you so - the boy was lying and we just blew away innocent kids." "Shit happens," said Bigs as he started the car. "Shit!" he said, suddenly. "What the fuck?!" asked Smalls. "That girl! Remember, the kid said something like 'Mary's here!' or 'Marie's here!'" said Bigs. "Remember?" "Yeah," said Smalls, not getting it. "So?" "So she was the girl they were waiting for!" "How do you know?" asked Smalls. "When will you fucking learn to not question me?" asked Bigs, rhetorically, once again. "Okay, so she's the girl - so what?" "So she fucking saw us, you idiot!" Bigs explained as they climbed out of their car again. Their job wasn't quite finished yet. Part 3 Smalls never met a woman like her before. Usually he would have to lie about his profession. He would jokingly tell people that he was a 'cleaning man' or a 'fix-it' guy. But Lisa had seen him in action and she was excited! Never mind that he blew away her surfer boyfriend. The sight of her dreadlocked boyfriend lying dead on the floor with his dark eyes staring aimlessly up at the ceiling and blood coming out of his mouth also excited her. She was one in a million. Make that a billion. Smalls couldn't get her off of his mind. "...and I told him to shut the fuck up - Hey!" said Bigs, "listen to me when I'm fucking talking!" "What?" asked Smalls with a look of confusion on his face. "You're thinking about that broad again? Sheeeiiiit! Man, you got yourself one fucking cuckoo woman!" said Bigs with a laugh. "Will she share?" "Fuck you!" said Smalls. "You know, I think this is it for me. We're like Bonnie and Clyde." "Bonnie and Clyde? Try the Adams Family! You're the weirdest fucking couple I've ever seen. And what's with your fucking hair?" "Dreadlocks, Bigs, dreadlocks. It takes a while to come in, you know." "See what women do? They fuck up your head!" noted Bigs. They parked the car a block away. It was the seedy part of town, but Bigs was 6'5" and a good 270 pounds, so they weren't worried about being fucked with. Smalls was average build and slender. He let Bigs do the swaggering as they walked. Both of them had their fingers resting on steel, however. Better safe than sorry. In his other hand, Bigs carried a black bag that resembled a medical bag. He looked like a doctor making a house call in the middle of the fucking Bronx. They came to the address that Mr. M had given them. It was a dilapidated brownstone building that looked like it was ruined in a previous war and never repaired. They kicked in the door like they were cops and ran up the stairs and burst through another door. Jerome was startled by the loud banging of the doors and footsteps and sudden activity. His head was spinning, though, and he felt removed from his body - no pain or feeling, just complete ecstasy as he floated in the room. Even the sudden activity seemed distant, like he was watching a movie. It was two guys, one as big as a house and the other one a skinny motherfucker. Jerome's slowed brain finally made the connection - it was the two guys with Mr. Morris. This turn of events struck him as very funny - EVERYTHING was funny when you've smoked as much crack as he has - not to mention dropping acid! It was probably the acid that turned every event no matter how inconsequential into a profound earth-shattering revelation - or a hilarious one. In this case, Bigs and Smalls were hilarious. "Heeeey, I know you guys!" said Jerome with a big smile that was full of teeth. "Hey, these are...are...my friends. These are my friends," he said in a slow and happy and slurred voice, introducing Bigs and Smalls with a slow wave of his hand to his three friends who also were all smiles and damn glad to meet them. "They're fucking high as a kite," said Smalls, putting away his gun. "Yeah, with Mr. M's stuff!" Bigs put his gun away, too, and opened the black bag. He produced a rope with a noose on the end of it and handed it to Smalls. "Looky what we've brought for you, Jerome," said Smalls, waving the rope before his dilated pupils. "Hey man, ya brought me a tift...a gift. You alwright, my man, you alwright." "Glad we brought enough rope, Bigs," said Smalls as he watched Bigs remove three more ropes with nooses on their ends. "I told you, these types run in fucking packs," said Bigs. "Who wants to go fiiiirst?" asked Smalls in a nursery-rhyme voice. "Cool, man. I go," said one of Jerome's friends. Jerome laughed. "Yeah, man, CrissCross always go first!" Smalls gently placed the noose around CrissCross' little neck. He didn't even get up from his comfortable resting place on the dirty floor. All four of them were resting their backs against the wall with their feet splayed out before them, their eyes large with drugged wonder. Bigs placed a noose around the other three as well. Smalls tied all four ropes over a pipe, creating four pulleys. Enough rope was left for Bigs to grab hold of and use his body weight to lift them to their suspended and invisible dance floor. Smalls took out his gun and stood by the door. If anyone tried to get away, or gave Bigs any trouble, he'd blow them away. Simple as that. "Without further ado, gentlemen, I say let the dancing begin," announced Bigs. "Yeah, man, cool," said one of the four. And with that, Bigs took hold of the rope attached to CrissCross and pulled with his weight. The skinny little punk was yanked off his ass immediately. The guy was light, so Bigs had no trouble pulling the rope than tying it into position as the young man kicked and struggled in mid-air. He went to the next one and did the same, and the next one, then the next one. In a matter of seconds, all four youths were kicking and writhing on the end of their ropes. CrissCross' eyes were wide open as he began to put up a big fight, his feet kicking, his body jerking. Spittle oozed out of his mouth and all four made gurgling sounds. Bigs and Smalls stood beneath them, both lost in amazement as they watched the four men jerk and gasp and gurgle and kick. The stretching of their bodies brought their t-shirts above their middle, exposing their stomachs. CrissCross had a large knob of a navel that protruded from his slender belly. The one to his right also had an 'outtie' of a navel, but it was smaller and less distinctive. Their kicking brought their baggy jeans below their hips - they already hung low on their bodies before the hanging. The youth to the left of CrissCross died the quickest. An unbelievable series of spasms made him thrash violently as his tongue swelled up and began to protrude through his lips. Blood and spittle drained from the tip of the tongue, and just as suddenly as the spasms hit, the boy's jerking ended entirely. He then swayed gracefully, his eyes staring, his mouth gaping. Urine drained from his pants leg and puddled on the floor. Eventually all four men swayed from the ropes without further struggles, save for the occasional twitching that came and went for nearly a half hour. All four had their eyes open, eerily staring ahead as their bodies swayed. Smalls' eyes remained fixated on their exposed bellies, their navels all youthful and tender. The outties seemed to be protruding even further. Damn, he thought, I wish Lisa were here to see this. He could imagine the two of them fucking each other's brains out right here on the dirty floor as the four youths dangled above, their lifeless eyes watching with a removed indifference. "Damn, I wish Lisa could've seen this," said Smalls as they climbed back into their car. "There you fucking go again," said Bigs. "I told you she was a fucking loony if she's into snuff!" "No, man, you don't understand," said Smalls, his thoughts drifting off to Lisa. "What's there to fucking understand? You're both fucking loony!" said Bigs as they made their way back to the office with what was left of the stuff. Part 4 Bigs and Smalls stood in the doorway. To their surprise, there were three girls in the room, all three hovering over the dead bodies of their boyfriends. The girl they had passed on the first floor was screaming now. It was a piercing scream that made the hair on Smalls' neck stand up and sent waves of pain into Bigs' temples like little needles. "Goddamn it!" boomed Bigs, his hands going to his temples."He yelled, his headache throbbing, as he reached for his silencer. The scream ended abruptly as Maria was suddenly flung against the wall. Maria's eyes opened wide in shock as she stood there staring at the smoking barrel of the pistol. She looked down at the large red hole in her chest between her breasts, her shirt ruined, she thought. "Oh," she said, and her body then slid slowly down the wall, leaving a bloody trail, and tumbled over onto its side. She vomited blood and died, her eyes staring. Bigs immediately switched gears and brought the beautiful blonde hovering over the dead baseball boy into his sights and pulled the trigger before she could even react. The bullet slammed into her belly and tore through her navel, exiting out the back. Her whole body lifted up off the floor and floated backwards before dropping to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Sara's body suddenly went into a violent series of spasms that frightened Bigs and Smalls outright. Her gorgeous body flopped and jerked and contorted so wildly, blood pouring from her open mouth, the two thought that perhaps the demon from 'The Exorcist' had suddenly taken possession of her beautiful body and attacked it. The girl even let out an unsettling scream as her body was jerked uncontrollably this way and that. Bigs shot her again out of total fear - he did not want to see her head spin completely around. That would've really freaked him out! The girl's body came to a sudden rest with the second shot, another bullet hole appearing in her side, the blood draining out of it like a faucet to the floor. Her big blue eyes unblinkingly stared up at the ceiling. Smalls brought up his silencer to Lisa who was standing to the left, near the corpse of the Hawaiian boy. His eyes met hers and his finger gripped the trigger. He did not pull it, however. The girl's eyes took on a look that he had never seen before. She stood before him, glowing. Her body straightened and stiffened with excitement, her eyes growing distant with ecstatic expectation. Her one hand went to her mouth and the other fingered her oval and tender belly button that had a diamond-studded ring in it. She hiccuped. Lisa's hiccup was musical. It was high and cute and funny. Smalls' sex not only twitched, it came to full attention. He stepped forward, bringing the gun to the girl's forehead now. She did not cower or run or cry or turn away or react in any other way. Instead, the excitement grew more urgent and less contained. She hiccuped again. Smalls' knees weakened. He studied her now, her whole body, her light brown hair, those incredible green eyes, the high cheekbone. She was wearing a white shirt that she had tied just above her waist - and what an incredible waist she had! - and bell-bottom slacks. Her skin was soft and pale, her eyes the color of a tropical sea, her smell like water. His heart raced and his breath grew short. She hiccuped again. He was growing dizzy. Smalls lowered his weapon and looked at her - and she at him. "Hello," he said, "my name is Donnie. Donnie Smalls." He extended his hand and she took it. He put his arm around her and they gazed at the dead bodies. How beautiful they all looked. All had their bellies exposed to the world, blood leaking out of their mouths, their eyes staring, all of them young and so full of life just a few minutes ago. The hiccups grew uncontrollable now and Smalls struggled to control the fluttering of his heart. "Jesus," said Bigs, shaking his head. "Now I've seen fucking everything!" THE END"

m/f/shooting

Part 2

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/14715.txt

Roadrunner

Slave Teacher

"Let's see what we've got for you..." and Mark had surely got a lot in store for Karen. He took Karen to his place, where Steve and Amy were already waiting. Steve was lying on the couch sipping a glass of whiskey, and Amy was kneeling naked by his feet obediently. "Amy, why don't you make your teacher comfortable," Steve said. Amy stood up and walked over to Karen. Meekly, she grabbed the bottom of Karen's polo-shirt and began to pull it up. Karen gasped and grabbed her hands to stop her. "Please, Miss Johnson," Amy whispered, "otherwise we'll both be punished." Karen let go and Amy pulled the polo-shirt off her completely. Then Amy took off her skirt and g-string. When Karen was completely naked, Amy led her by the hand to the center of the living room and laid her down. "No, please..." knowing very well what was going to happen, Karen pleaded. Amy stopped her by grabbing her shoulders and kissed her on the mouth, forcing her tongue in. Gently, Amy kissed her way down Karen's neck to her breasts, and her skillful tongue soon had her teacher trembling with pleasure. She went on kissing and caressing until Karen finally couldn't hold back any longer and closed her eyes and moaned. She spread her legs when Amy's tongue reached her pussy, which was by now glistening with her juices. When Amy climbed on top of her with her pussy facing her face, Karen grabbed her student's smooth teenage ass tentatively, and when Amy began licking her again, she responded by pulling Amy down and began licking her back. Soon the young woman and the teen were licking each other in frenzy, with their bodies squirming uncontrollably. Steve then came over and handed Amy the strap-on dildo. Amy quickly put it on and positioned herself between Karen's legs. "Go on, Amy. Remember Wednesday?" Mark chuckled, "it's time for you to return the favor!" Amy entered her with one thrust and Karen cried out in abandonment. As Amy began fucking her, she wrapped her legs around Amy and returned Amy's kisses passionately. Driven by Karen's response, Amy fucked her teacher faster and faster until Karen came with a series of spasms. After that, Amy was ordered to take off the strap-on and hand it to Karen, who was still trying to catch her breath. "C'mon slut, suck it, lick it clean!" Steve ordered. Reluctantly, Karen took the dildo in her mouth and tasted her own juices. She felt humiliated, being made to taste her own juices, but, much to her shame and dismay, her body was betraying her, and she could feel her pussy getting wet again. Then it was her turn to put on the dildo and fuck Amy. She obeyed, struggling to get up. When she began fucking the student, the two men cheered, telling her to fuck the girl harder. Karen, on her part, was exhausted after the powerful orgasm, but she still tried hard to keep up the rhythm. "C'mon, slut! Harder!" Steve shouted. Finally, he got up and took off his belt. Standing behind Karen, he brought the leather belt heavily down on her ass. "I said harder! Slut!" Whack! Whack! "Ouch! Ah! Ah!" Karen cried out in pain as Steve kept whipping her, while at the same time Amy was moaning with pleasure. Fortunately, Amy came quickly, but by that time there were already more than twenty striking red welts across Karen's ass. Steve stopped whipping and Karen collapsed on top of Amy, exhausted. "C'mon, slut! We're only just getting started!" said Mark as he and Steve lifted her off Amy. They laid her on the coffee table and took off her strap-on. "No..." she pleaded as Steve and Mark mounted her. Steve entered her pussy with one deep thrust and then held still while Mark eased his cock in her tight asshole slowly. "Oh, oh, oh," Karen moaned as she felt the two cocks throbbing inside her. Then the two men began pumping in and out of her alternatively, matching their strokes. Amy was ordered to straddle Karen's face, and with a squeeze on her breasts, Steve told Karen to lick her student's pussy. Karen quickly complied, her hands reaching up to fondle Amy's breasts. Karen came violently and came again within seconds. After the two men had come inside her, she was totally exhausted. She just lay on the coffee table gasping, her face wet with Amy's juices, and with cum leaking out of her holes. Amy was allowed to get dressed and go home first. Karen on her part had to stay for a humiliating night. She was allowed to shower while the men cooked. While Mark and Steve had their dinner, Karen had to serve them, then she was allowed to have hers, given to her in a bowl placed on the floor. Then she was taken to the bedroom, tied spread-eagled on the bed and fucked by her two colleagues again. She had barely recovered when Monday came. Much to her relief, Jeff seemed to have been scared off after being caught by Mara, and didn't bother her for the whole day. Even Amy had stopped dropping her pen "by accident", and Karen also found standing in front of her class in a short skirt less humiliating than it used to feel. Finally, the last period was over. Karen was just about to consider it a lucky day when she found Mara waiting for her outside the classroom. "Hi, Mara," she said hesitantly. "Hi, slut," Mara answered. "Please!" Karen pleaded, looking around nervously to see if any student had heard that. "Wh-what do you want?" "Remember you said that you'd do anything I said? Well, it's time to do it now. Come with me." Mara led Karen to the biology lab. "Get in," she led Karen into a small room inside the lab where the instruments were kept and closed the door. "Take off your clothes," she ordered. "Please," Karen pleaded, "can we not do this?" "Shut up and do it, slut! Or we can go to see Dr. Jackson right away!" Reluctantly, Karen undressed. When she was all nude except for her high heels, Mara took a piece of rope and tied her hands behind her back. "Please..." Karen pleaded. "Shut up and wait here!" With these words, she went out. Karen's eyes opened wide in horror when she heard Mara open the door of the lab and a group of students came in. "Hey, Miss Lloyd," one of them called out, "what's the deal? I thought we're going to have a Spanish test." and some other students joined in, grumbling. "You guys just wait and see," said Mara cheerfully as she went back into the small room. "What do you want?" Karen asked her in panic. "Please, let me get dressed and go! Those are students outside! I can't let them see me like this!" She pleaded, whispering. "Listen, slut!" said Mara as she grabbed Karen's right nipple and twisted it, causing her to wince in pain. "Either you do as I say, or I'll just let them do anything they want! Do what I say, and I won't let them touch you, at least not today." "Oh, God, Mara," Karen whined, "why are you doing this to me?" "Shut up, bitch! Are you going to do it or not?" Sobbing, Karen nodded. After wiping the tears off Karen's face, Mara opened the door. "Now, guys," she announced, "since we have just learned about the human body last week, I'm going to give you a test today on the vocabulary about the female body..." "Oh, c'mon," one guy shouted, "give us a break!" "You just wait until you see my assistant...Miss Johnson!" said Mara, grinning. Grabbing Karen by her arm, she led the trembling woman out of the storage room. Karen blushed in shame as she saw the students in the room. There were ten of them, all male. She recognized that some were juniors in the school, but luckily none were in her class. Their mouths all dropped open when they saw her walk in, totally naked, then they all looked at each other and started grinning. Karen felt like she was going to die as the students devoured her with their gaze."This is cool, man..." one of the students whispered to the guy sitting next to him. "Now," said Mara as she put a box on the desk. She opened it so that the students could see that there were some metal clips inside, with little labels attached to each of them. "The test is very simple. All you have to do is to pick up a label and attach it to where it belongs. Now, shall we begin? C'mon, Simon, draw a label from the box. Now don't look..." The first student came out cheerfully from his seat. He was disappointed when he saw that he had picked "el brazo." "Don't move," Mara whispered to Karen as she stood next to her. Simon hesitated as he looked at the clip in his hand and then at Karen. "C'mon, put it on. That's an easy one." Finally, the teen attached the clip to Karen's arm. Karen gasped as she felt the clip bite onto her flesh. "Tell him that it's correct and thank him." Mara ordered. "That-that is correct, th--thank you," Karen said, blushing with humiliation. The second student jumped up in excitement when he picked "el culo," and the entire class cheered as he put the clip on. Then another clip on her arm, her belly button, another on her ass, and two on her thighs. The students were aware that there must be something going on between the two teachers, but by now they just couldn't care less. Karen looked at a student in horror when she saw that he had picked "el pezón." The student was a bit hesitant when he saw Karen's reaction. "C'mon, Mike, do you know what it means? You do? Then show us! I think this young man here needs some encouragement, miss Johnson," Mara was really enjoying it. "Y-yeah Mike, put it on...it's okay...oh! oh, oh, thank you..." Karen moaned in pain as the clip's jaws closed upon her nipple, which was by now rock-hard. "Well done!" said Mara, and the entire class cheered. "Now, who's next?" There were still more than a dozen clips in the box. One went to the other nipple, three more to each breast, three more to her ass, and two more to her thighs. Karen was in agony. Her forehead was covered with sweat, and her legs were trembling. Finally, there were only two clips left in the box. The student who picked one up was puzzled, as he realized that it was linked to the other by an elastic band. The label read "los labios." "What..." he looked at Mara for instructions, puzzled. "Well, what else do you think it is?" "C'mon Kevin!" the other students cheered, "get on with it!" "Oh, God no!" Karen whispered in horror. "Ah!" she gasped in pain as the student reached down between her legs and attached the first clip to her lip, and she winced as the student wound the band behind her back, pulling on her lip, until he reached the other lip. Then he snapped the other clip on. "AH! Ah! Th-thank you," Karen gasped in agony as the student let go of the clip and the elastic band stretched her cuntlips wide open. It was too much for her, and she collapsed onto her knees. "God she's wet!" she heard the student whispered to his friends. "Okay guys," Mara said, "I think miss Johnson is tired, so that's all for today. Now don't be disappointed," she added, "To give you some incentive to study, miss Johnson will give a special prize to anyone here who gets the highest mark in the exam by the end of this month. Isn't that great? So study hard!" "Why are you doing this to me, Mara?" Karen asked sobbing when the students were gone, "What have I done?" "Because that's what you deserve, slut!" Mara scolded as she took out a thin leather belt. "Now let's get these clips off you," with these words she began whipping Karen with the belt. "You think you're hot, huh? You like showing off your body to every guy in the school? Well now I'm giving you the chance to do it!" "Ah, ah, ah!" Karen moaned and squirmed in pain as Mara landed blow after blow on her body. "Ah!" She screamed when the belt landed squarely on her pussy. When all the clips had come off, Karen just lay on the floor exhausted, whining. Her breasts, her arms, her ass and her thighs were all covered with red welts. Mara dropped the belt and admired her work, running her hand along Karen's body. "So you're wet!" she sneered, "slut!" "Pl...please..." Karen pleaded in a barely audible voice, "can I go now?" "Okay," said Mara as she untied her, "I guess that's enough for today. But I ain't done with you yet, slut! Now get dressed and get the hell out of here!""Oh, oh, oh," Karen moaned, "Please stop!" she pleaded. "Here, make me hard again!" said Jeff as he pressed his semi-hard cock into her mouth. Karen sucked him obediently until he was hard again. Then, after Jeff had positioned himself between her legs, she guided him into her as he ordered. Jeff felt like he was in one of his wet dreams. Not only was he fucking a woman for the first time, he was actually fucking his gorgeous, sexy teacher! He grabbed her hips and began pumping her in a frenzy, and soon had Karen moaning and squirming under him again. As Karen moaned louder and louder, he couldn't hold back any longer and emptied his balls into her tight, hot pussy. "Hmm...that's great, Miss Johnson," said Jeff as he collapsed on top of her. The two of them remained in the storeroom until that evening, and when Karen returned to school the next day, she had barely recovered from the exhaustion. Jeff seemed to have an insatiable interest in her body. After resting for a while, he had her suck him hard so that he could fuck her again. When he could no longer get a hard-on, he fondled and fingered her just to watch her come. Karen could hardly remember how many times she had come, all she could recall was that Jeff's hand was all wet with her juices in the end, and she had to lick it clean. She almost laughed when she heard that the boy had called in sick the next day.

nc, bd, humil

Chapters 5-6

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11283.txt

Paris Waterman

Warren: A Friday Night

"Like it, eh, cunt?" he grunted, nuzzling her neck. "Like my prick in your ass, eh?" "Yes," she whimpered. "Oh god yes!" Warren began to concentrate on holding off his climax. He listened intently to Gail's babbling and torrent of pleas and promises. "Oh baby, you're so good, I'll do anything for you . . . I want to give you everything . . . please? Please? I want to be a little pervert for you, a slut, a complete slut . . . I want you to spank me, to whip me properly, whip me all over . . . Will you do that? Whip me hard?" Warren assures her he has every intention of doing just that. Then realizing he can't hold off any longer, he begins to berate her, hoping it will drive her completely over the edge. "Come on you cunt, that's what you are, a fucking sniveling little ass sucking, cunt fisting, cocksucker who'll blow anyone I tell you to. Ain't that right, baby?" "Oh, yeah, Warren. Oh, yeah. I'll suck anything you put in front of me. Oh baby, keep that prick moving like that . . . I'm . . . coming again. Oh, Christ . . . it's so fucking good . . . I never want it to stop . . . Oh, God . . . Oh, God!" Warren made up his mind to finish with a flourish. He unflexed his buttocks and slowly slid his brown-flaked prick out. Pausing for a fraction of a second, he sighed before skewering her anus again. Gail moaned thickly, her body swaying and undulating erotically under his. His hands glided up to her breasts and grasped her hard nipples and squeezed hard, as he continued to slide out and in. Gail convulsed and spasmed still embedded on his throbbing prick. "Did you mean what you just said, baby?" he whispered into her ear. "Huh?" she responded, almost delirious with pleasure. "You know, about sucking anything I put in front of you." "You bet your ass I will," she answered with a lewd and obscene laugh. With that, Warren withdrew his cock from her ass with a loud swooshing, sucking sound and presented it to her mouth. "Can . . . can . . . I . . ." "Can you what, bitch, you fucking whore, are you gonna deny you just said you'd suck anything I put in front of you?" he screamed, the veins in his neck bulged. A frightened Karen quickly withdrew her finger from his ass, and a cowering Gail took his slimy prick between two fingers and guided it into her mouth. "Ummmph!" she gulped as Warren pumped twice and began to ejaculate into Gail's mouth. "Don't swallow it!" he told her, "hold it, I've got a surprise for you, baby." Reaching behind him, Warren grasped Karen by the arm and gently pulled her in front of Gail. A shocked Gail almost spit his sperm out. "Waaas disss? Waa . . . ren?" "Don't spill it and don't swallow it, Gail," he admonished."Jeez," and her voice choked up, "it won't be long at this rate." Warren looked at Karen, who was licking her own nipple, and winked back at her. "I'm going as slow as I can, baby," he said softly. "Would you like me to blindfold you? And then after you cum this time, I'll spank you. You've been a bad girl today, haven't you?" "A blindfold?" "Yeah, it adds to the excitement," he said to reassure her. "I haven't been spanked in a long time. You won't hurt me, will you?" "No. In fact, I'll give you a safe word. If you want me to stop, just say 'yellow.'" "Yellow. And you'll stop?" "That's right, and Karen will make sure I do, won't you?" "Of course I will. Don't worry, Gail, it will go just fine." Karen had the blindfold in her hand and tied it around Gail's face. Then Warren turned Gail onto her stomach and used two Velcro ties to secure her hands to the headboard. Before she could register a protest, he did the same to her legs. "What... why tie me up?" She cried. "Just so you don't move too much. This is gonna hurt a bit, you know." Warren slid a hand under her belly and resumed finger-fucking her moist pussy. Gail scrunched her butt as high as she could to permit his hand to roam. "Oooooo yes, I love that. But, baby... don't hurt me too much, please?" "No, baby, nice and easy. Remember your safe word." And he glanced at Karen and was amused to find her squeezing her breasts together and pulling on her nipples, stretching them out and then sucking on them. He sat on the edge of the bed admiring Gail's firm cheeks, before asking, "Have you done this before, Gail?" "No, no, never. But I've thought about it a lot." Warren smiled, impressed with her eagerness, and stroked her cheeks languidly, almost caressing them. He looked over to Karen and raised his arm in preparation to delivering the first smack. Karen is frantically humping her fingers, and the wet, slurping sound carries over to Gail, causing her to ask with some alarm, "What...What's going on there? What's that noise?" "Karen's getting a little carried away with herself," he said soothingly, "and she's gonna suck me while I do you." He was smiling at Karen, whose eyes were shut. Warren lowered his hand and instead of a smack, he began exploring Gail's sopping wet cunt. Gail moaned in anticipation. "I... I... promise to be a real good girl... real good..." she whimpered, as she bit her lip. She's extremely wet, and is unconsciously humping up and down with her hips, eager for something, anything. Warren suddenly slapped her right cheek hard, then the left. He continued alternating the spanking until a dozen smacks were delivered. Then he paused. Gail was grimacing with the pain, but hadn't cried out. "How about another round, Gail? Are you up for it?" "Oh, yes please!" she responded quickly. "Tell me what Karen's doing?" "Is Karen helping you get excited?" He crooned into her ear as he slid two fingers inside her and moved them in a circular fashion. "Oh... Oh, God! Oooooh, Oh, it's so good. Please, please... I'm, oh, am I going to come?" Gail cried out in astonishment, as Warren's hand starting whacking her again. "Yessssssssss! I... is... she coming from watching... me? "Are you coming, Karen?" Warren asked in a hoarse voice. Karen never opened her eyes, but responded as she came. "Nauggggh! Naugggggh! Aaaah! F... F... Fuck yeah!" Karen yelled loudly. "Ooooooh yeah! This is a great cum! T... Thh... Thank... you Gail honey!" That sent Gail over the top and humping up and down, in rhythm with his smacks she too started coming. "Oooooooh Christ! I... I... don... don't believe this! I... Can't cum like this! It's too fucking powerful!" Still, Gail shifted her position to present her ass for another round of smacks, letting out a long moan filled with lust and craving. Karen's lying next to her on the bed, legs spread wide apart and panting, pleading incoherently, whimpering, "Yes, yes..." Warren leaned over Karen and kissed her softly on the mouth, prompting her back to reality. "Ummm," she sighed. "I think Gail's ready for you now, baby," he said, his voice barely audible. "Uhhhh," she moaned quietly, "Ohhhh yes, uhhh, ohhhh, God yes! Thank you Warren." Karen reached over and freed Gail's hands and legs. Then she ran her fingers around behind Gail's head, removing the blindfold and tossing it aside. Karen put both hands on Gail's head, tangling her hair in her fingers and eventually pulled Gail's mouth to hers. She kissed Gail very deeply for some minutes. When they pulled back, Gail was rapidly changing her opinion on bisexual behavior. "Oooooh, wow! That was soooo nice. Karen, please... kiss me again," she asked plaintively. Almost by instinct, Gail's hips began moving in a bucking motion, and she discovered she was now rubbing her very wet cunt against Warren's thigh, soaking his leg thoroughly, pulling it toward her in such a way that it appeared she was trying to swallow him with her sex. Gail felt another orgasm approaching. As she let loose an anticipatory guttural scream, she heard Karen off in the distance saying, "She's coming again, Warren," and felt Karen place the tip of her index finger against her anus. Karen's other hand went immediately to Gail's now slightly swollen lips, lingering here and there as she stroked them. She knew how sensitive they were from all that had preceded. Gail's eyes were closed and she was breathing rapidly as her hands clenched the sheet tightly, pulling it from its mooring around the mattress. Warren had gotten up and was dressing. "Are you okay, baby?" Karen asked. Gail nodded, and Karen slid a fingertip inside the now very red, swollen lips. Gail opened her eyes, looked up and locked eyes with Karen. The finger slowly slid into her cunt to its full length, and fluttered. Gail groaned. "Muuuuuhh! Muuuh... pussy!" She wailed. "What about your pussy, baby?" Karen crooned and took a nipple into her mouth. "Aughhhhh!" Gail moaned joyously. This delightful sensation caused her hips to buck again as she strove to compel Karen's finger in deeper. Karen, evidently very knowledgeable in this area, withdrew it a bit. And Gail's hips settled back down, but she cried out in longing at its withdrawal. Karen reverted to stroking and rubbing, going about this much longer than necessary. Warren finished dressing, checked on the girls again and quietly left the apartment. Gail's breath was coming in short gasps and her belly tightened as Karen's fingers found all her hot spots. Her pussy had never felt this sensitive before. Karen's manipulation had every nerve in her pussy and stomach screaming. She was verging on combustion. Gail groaned and writhed, still clutching the sheet tightly in her hands. "Would you like me to stop," Karen teased quietly, her fingers still busy, sensing Gail's need to be finished off. "No. That feels wonderful." Gail snorted, as she continued to gasp for air. Karen slid two of her long, carefully polished fingers deep into the inflamed cunt. She brought exquisite delight to Gail as she very slowly pumped them in and then just as slowly, drew them out and watched the strong emotions of lust flicker across Gail's face. Karen casually leaned down and let her hot tongue run up and down the very swollen outer lips. Gail whooped at the touch of the tongue and groaned loudly. "My God, that's good. Oh, Oh." Karen continued to lick. Gail continued to groan. This continued for some time. "I want to eat you," Gail moaned. "I want to taste your cunt, Karen... please?" "Yes, oh... yes... eat me Gail. Put your tongue in me." She was almost coming herself as Gail unleashed this uninhibited display of feminine arousal. Gail swiveled around and rearranged Karen as she leaned back resting her weight on one arm. Gail bent Karen's leg so that it would help support her and pushed the other out to the side, thereby presenting her cunt as a tempting target. Karen stared at her, amazed at the manipulation and then it was her turn to gasp, as Gail took Karen's hand and had her start to finger herself. This Karen did, all too gladly. Then without warning, Gail drove her face down onto Karen's cunt and started lapping like a dog. Her groans of passion were muffled deep within Karen's cunt. As their lovemaking progressed, Gail learned of a repressed desire of her own, a fondness for Karen's long, thick, excited, erect nipples. And, although she tensed up when Karen cupped and then squeezed her breasts, she found it so pleasing she relaxed and discovered herself kissing Karen again and again. Slowly and deeply, probing and intensifying the heat. The heat that had both girls ravaging the other's pussies using the classic 69 position when Gail's climax hit. And Gail nearly threw the two of them off the bed with its force, as it flashed from her lower abdomen, then through the lower part of her body and ended in her toes. Karen followed seconds later, coming with an equally violent force. Exhausted and sweaty now, Gail collapsed in a breathy heap on the bed, throwing her arms over her head. As her breathing returned to normal, Karen kissed her softly on the lips, lingering over the tip of her tongue as if she were memorizing every taste bud, and said, "I like the way you change your mind." "Ummmmmm," Gail sighed, "Glad I did. Hey! Where's Warren?" "Oh, baby," Karen cooed, "we won't be needing him for a while, will we?" They held each other tight as they giggled into each other's ear.http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq

Part 2

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/12897.txt

Rhett Dreams

Jake & Jack

"She's out," said her mother a few minutes later. I'd managed to keep Sophie from crushing her mother long enough for her to free herself. We put her on her side and got a washcloth from the bathroom. I did my best to clean off the lubricant and cum leaking out of her ass, then rolled her onto her back and cleaned her breasts and cunt. "It's the combination of the wine and the sex," said Joan as she tucked in her daughter. We found our clothes then turned off the light and closed the door. We showered together in the family bath, dressed and went downstairs. I looked through their collection of CDs and selected one, but Joan convinced me to play a Johnny Mathis CD instead. We danced for a long time, slowly, pressed to one another. She was back in her green silk dress and her body felt great pressed against me. "You're a pretty swell guy," she said, her voice low and sexy. Her arms were around my neck, her back arched to look up into my face. I had no doubt she could feel my hard bulge against her belly as we swayed and moved to the music. "Swell?" "Uh huh," she said. "Thank you, m'lady," I said and kissed her softly. My hands drifted down over her ass. I pulled her dress up and placed my hands on her ass. As we danced I felt the muscles of her ass flex and relax under my fingers. "That was incredible to watch, you know?" she said. "Sophie?" "Mmm." She sighed and pressed herself against me and we continued to move slowly to the sweet tenor of Johnny Mathis. When the song ended I disengaged myself and quickly shed my clothes. We embraced again as the next song started and I told her to hold on and lifted her up about a foot off the floor. Holding her to my chest, I began lowering her slowly. Joan's hands went back to guide my cock and it eased into her cunt as I lowered her. "Oh, yes," she whispered into my ear. I moved to the music for another few minutes, until my arms were tired, then lowered the two of us to the floor. I fucked Joan steadily for twenty minutes, through two orgasms, until I finally came during her second climax, and dumped my load in her churning cunt. I woke from a very erotic dream Sunday morning only to find Joan and Sophie playing with my cock. I put my hands behind my head and watched as they took turns licking the shaft, until Joan noticed I was awake. "Sophie, your lord and master is awake," said Joan. "Good morning, Jake," said Sophie cheerfully. "Sophie, Joan," I said, "Good morning to you." I stretched and said, "God, I'm hungry." Joan said she'd make eggs but I reached out and held her hand. "Sophie, this may be my last opportunity with your mom," I said. "Can you cook breakfast while we..." "Sure," said Sophie, hopping off the bed and walking, buck naked, out the door. I motioned to Joan to mount me and she straddled me and sank slowly down the length of my cock. "I'm gonna miss this cock," she said as she settled in place. "Not as much as you think," I said as she began rocking back and forth. "Bill's coming back tonight with a stiff cock and a head full of ideas about how to use it with you." "Hmmm, that'll be great," she purred. "But he's not as big as you." "Perhaps not," I said. "But you'll be thankful he's not when he fucks your ass tonight." "Hmmm," she murmured, closing her eyes and smiling as she rode my cock and thought not of me but her husband forcing his cock into her nasty butt. She sped up after a few minutes and began bouncing up and down, her eyes still closed. I reached out and squeezed her breasts then held on to her nipples as she rode me furiously through an intense orgasm, wetting my cock and balls with her discharge. "If you're finished with that slut, breakfast is ready." I looked over and saw Sophie at the doorway. Her excited eyes told me she'd been there long enough to watch her mother cum. She'd donned a robe and was sipping coffee, and the delicious smell of the freshly brewed coffee convinced me to pass on a second fuck, and my own orgasm, and get up instead.She had just enough time to say this before Sophie shoved Joan's face back where it had been, up against Sophie's sex. I opened my robe and positioned my cock against her cunt, and dragged my fingernails over her red ass as I drove to the hilt in one brutal lunge. "Ummmph," I heard from Joan as I bottomed out against her cervix. I fucked her in long, quick strokes, enjoying the feeling of her cunt on my cock and the sight of Sophie before me, her head thrown back over the opposite end of the sofa. Her fingers were pinching and pulling her nipples and her hips rotated in circles, pushing her sex up against her mother's busy mouth. Sophie had cum twice when she finally righted herself and pulled away from her mother's greedy mouth. I had felt Joan cum as well, several minutes earlier, her copious fluids spilling on my balls. Following my instructions, Sophie put a sofa cushion on the floor and helped me carry Joan, still impaled on my cock, off the sofa and face down on the floor. I rose on my arms and began fucking her again, and found I could go faster in this position. I hammered into her as fast as I could manage and allowed myself to cum only after I heard her cry out in release and felt her cunt spasm around my cock. I groaned in pleasure as my cock blasted jet after jet of hot cum into her churning cunt. Before leaving the Pattersons' we had opened every window in the house and cleaned for an hour, changing and washing sheets, treating stains on the furniture and carpeting, and washing the bathrooms. I asked Joan to call me the next afternoon with news of Bill's weekend (and his homecoming), kissed mother and daughter goodbye, and left. I got home early afternoon, just in time to be drafted by Marion and dad to go house hunting. I met Jill for the first time, Marion's twelve-year-old daughter. She and I sat in the back of the real estate agent's minivan and commiserated with my future sister about losing our Sunday afternoon to this chore. When we arrived at the fifth house of the afternoon, it was clear after less than five minutes that this would be our next house if my dad had his way. It was a run-down Victorian dating from the late 19th century, full of charm and clutter. It had twelve rooms, no two alike, a front and back staircase, and lots of old-fashioned moldings and other details. Unfortunately, it also had sagging ceilings, blocked fireplaces, damaged walls, a forty-year-old kitchen and bathroom fixtures that looked as old as the house. "But it's a disaster," said Marion, incredulous that Jerry would spend more than a minute looking at the house before rushing outside to puke. "But think about the house it could be. Will be," he said, and I could tell from the tone of his voice that this was a project he wanted. "Dad, Marion," I said, "Jack and I will be off for the summer in less than a month. We can strip the walls and ceilings down to the studs, rewire it, re-plumb it, and put up new wall board." "I could help," said Jill. Marion smiled at her daughter, then shot a questioning look at Jerry. "I'm sure," he said, nodding. "C'mon, Jill," I said. "Let's go find our rooms." We raced into the house and up the staircases to the third floor, and then worked our way down. Jill was small for her age, slender and possessed a certain impish look to her face. She had large hazel eyes, curly brown hair, a small turned-up nose and a wide smile. She reminded me vaguely of a young Demi Moore without the tits. The third floor had three bedrooms, each with its own sink, and one bath. On the second floor were four bedrooms, a sitting room, two baths and several other rooms that I assumed were closets. The only room on the second floor with its own private bath was also the largest, and had a fireplace, so we assumed that would go to Marion and Jerry. Jill fell in love with a large bay window complete with a window seat that was in one of the second-floor rooms. She sat there and her smile faded as her glance took in the bare bulb light in the ceiling, the ancient wallpaper peeling off the walls and the dust and grime. "This room will be beautiful," I said. "The walls and ceilings will be brand new and you can pick what color you want them painted. A new light fixture, of course. You can pick that out too. The floors will be sanded and refinished so they'll shine. I'll have to replace a couple of those glass panes, but that window will look incredible when we're done and it's cleaned. Bunk beds over there, for when you have a friend sleep over. Dresser here, next to the closet. Desk there, so you can look out the window instead of doing your homework. Maybe a rug in the center here. What do you think?" I looked over at Jill and found her watching me, a smile on her face. "Thanks, Jake. I think this room will be cool." "What about your room?" she asked as we walked down to the first floor. "I suspect that Jack and I will end up with the two bedrooms on the third floor, sharing the one bathroom up there, although we may have to fight Cathy for that." "You want to be way up there? It'll be so hot in the summer." "It's private, though," I said. "And there's always A/C to keep it reasonable." "Would you bring your girlfriends up there?" she asked. "Girlfriend, singular. I'm a one-woman man," I said, then laughed to myself. "Her name's Sophie. You'll meet her soon I think." We found Marion and Jerry in the kitchen. "You've got to see beyond what's here---" he was saying. "Nothing's here," countered Marion. Jill giggled and we all smiled because aside from a soapstone sink and an ancient stove, there was nothing in the kitchen. "What I meant to say," continued my dad, "is we'll take measurements of this entire floor and draw up a half-dozen ideas for the layout of a kitchen, the parlors, a family room and dining room. We may decide to put the kitchen on the other side of the bleeping house." Marion walked over and put her arm around his back. Accentuating her southern drawl, she said, "I just love a man who gets passionate about his home... his castle." "Damn right," he said, hugging her to him and smiling. Cathy got home shortly before dinner, so Jack and I didn't get a chance to talk to her until later. We had our first dinner as an extended-family-to-be, with Marion and Jill joining Dad, Cathy, Jack and I. Cathy wasn't quite sure about this new house when she heard about it. Jack, on the other hand, was very happy at the prospect of at least a month's employment fixing up the house. "You expect to be paid?" asked my Dad. "Of course we're going to pay them, Jerry," said Marion. He was too happy about Marion agreeing to buy the house to argue this one. "He's a very sweet man," said Cathy. "Yeah?" said Jack. "But what happened?" "Well, the first several hours went pretty much according to the script." "Then?" I prompted after she paused for a long moment. "Then he started suggesting things." "Oh," I said. "That's good, right?" She smiled and nodded. I thought about it for a while and a question popped in my head. "If you threw away the script after a few hours, did you remember to tell him what he was supposed to do with Joan, er, Mrs. Patterson, when he got home tonight?" "Don't worry, Jake, Mrs. Patterson will be taken care of just fine." I realized that getting information out of Cathy was going to be like pulling teeth, and so I gave up. "Was it okay, though?" asked Jack. "It was, quite simply, a delightful, sexy weekend with a very sweet man." She yawned and added, "who has the stamina of a bull." Jack and I stared at each other. "A very sweet man," he said. "With the stamina of a bull," I said. Joan Patterson called me Monday night as she had promised to do. "How'd it go," I asked, hoping to get more information out of her than I was able to get out of Cathy. "I'm no longer a virgin," she said. "Oh?" I said. "Oh! I see. How was it? How is he?" "You're right, Jake, he's a changed man. It was... as if we'd never touched before. Exciting... electric... I feel like I've just had an affair." "You have," I reminded her. She laughed and said, "How could I forget." "I'm wounded," I said. "What did he tell you about his weekend? Can you tell me the details?" "Not really," she said. "I've got to hang up soon. I'm holding a note from Bill that requires me to join him in the basement in just a few minutes. He went down there as soon as he came home from work and again after dinner. He's been building something in his wood shop." "What does the note say?" Joan giggled and read. "Dear Fuck-toy: I want your slut ass in the basement at 11:30. Don't be late and don't wear any clothes. Your Master, Bill" "But it's eleven-thirty now," I said. "Uh huh," she said, in no hurry. "Are you naked?" "Under my robe, yes." "I should let you go," I said. "He'll punish you if you're late." "I know," she said. "One other thing, Jake... if you think you're finished with me, after this last weekend, you're kidding yourself." And then the line went dead.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | <http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/><http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq.

Chapter Eleven - "Joan's Turn"

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/8335.txt

Chili Peeler

Peeler RP: Swing Man - Part 5

"Nikki?" he said softly, stepping out behind her. He saw her start, but she kept standing the way she was. "What are you doing out here, baby?" He moved right up behind her. Nikki turned her head slightly around. "If I said I was waiting for you, would that be the right answer?" "That's just the answer I was hoping for," Jonas said as he put his hands on her shoulders and began massaging them. She tilted her head to the right and rubbed her cheek on the top of his kneading hand, then rubbed her face on it. Her left hand reached up and grabbed the fingers of his left hand, pulling his hand over her shoulder and then bending his arm out to wrap around her, her hand directing his palm onto her T-shirt right over her incredible soft tit. As he squeezed a handful of her young teat, he leaned over her, bringing his face against hers after she took her cheek off his hand. "Nikki," he whispered and began kissing her ear, his right hand swooping down her front to collect her other tit through the nightshirt. Jonas felt her T-shirt-covered ass grind back at his naked crotch, and her hands reached back to feel his legs, grip his thighs, and pull him against her slender derriere. "Yessss, Daddy, yes," Nikki encouraged him, and he slid his left hand down across her belly, down between her legs, the T-shirt in the way, his hand found the bottom lip of the fabric and his fingers reached under and up. Both of them sucked in their breath when his fingers snaked into her silky snatch and played over her neat cuntal folds. Her crotch went forward into his fingers, and her right hand reached between their bodies, his daughter's hand felt for and grabbed his awakening member. He leaned his upper body back, his right hand going back to her shoulder as she wantonly stroked his dick, her palm hot and soft as she worked him to near erection in about twenty seconds."You sound like you were pretty sure of yourself," Jonas said, his right hand reaching up to smooth back her hair. "I would have got you eventually. You're no saint." "No, I'm far from that." "Hmmmmm...and I'm so glad. Saints are so boring! I can feel that you're not done.....let's go inside." Nikki led the way back through the open French door into her dimly lit bedroom. Nikki walked to the nearest nightstand by the bed and turned the knob at the base of the lamp. Both lamps on either nightstand came on, bathing her bed with a warm yellow light. Actually, it wasn't really 'her' bed; the bedroom they were in was the guest room usually and the decor, white lacquered bed suite and dressers, matched that of her parents' bedroom, with the exception that the bed was a queen size. 'If Mother knew what we were going to do in the room she decorated...' Nikki smiled at the turn of events in their family - Mother had thrown Dad away and she had scooped him up. She turned and looked at her father. He was standing a few feet away and her eyes appraised his body up close. She had never slept with anyone near his age and she was impressed by the mature, solid look of his body. His erection was drooping but she'd take care of that. It occurred to her that turning on the lights may have been a mistake. Now they were in the light, away from the make-believe world of the dark deck and the ocean's surf. It was a reality check. 'Take the initiative, Nikki.' She crossed her arms in front of her, grabbed the hem of her nightshirt and pulled it up and over her head. She slowly dropped it at her feet, watching her father's eyes feast on her nude body. First, they lingered on her tits; wide-spread, sloping, apple-sized beauties with half-dollar sized aureole and small stiff nipples. Then, they moved down her flat stomach; Nikki never worked out but her stomach had a slight washboard look to it and she sucked it in a little more to accentuate the illusion. Finally, her father's eyes went down to the matted mons of her womanhood; a dark tangle of semi-transparent pubes. "You're beautiful, Nikki," her father said as she walked up to him and slid her arms around his waist. His hands moved around to hold her upper back as she looked up at him lovingly. She felt so safe on his arms. She dropped her head and began kissing his hairy chest, moving her mouth around, running her tongue onto each of his nipples in turn. "MMmmmmm, that feels good," her father said softly, his hands running up under her hair to hold her neck and the back of her head. Nikki began sucking on his nipples, knowing that it felt good whether you were a man or a woman. She ground her belly against his cock, pressing the drooping member downward. It flexed with life, wanting to stand up straight and tall again. Her father's hands moved to the sides of her face and pushed her head backward, pulling her lips from his left nipple. Fingers in her hair pulled her head back and his mouth came down on hers in more than a fatherly kiss. It felt so strange to be kissing her own father but she let him drive his tongue into her mouth, sucked and nipped at it like she would do for any other of her lovers. 'I shouldn't have doubted him....he's not having any second thoughts,' Nikki realized. 'He wants to fuck me again in the worst way.' Her right hand slid between them and swung his hefty, near-erect cock outward and then up, thrilling at the way it immediately pulsed to rock-hard status. Her father broke their kiss and began walking her backward toward the bed. "You're killing me, baby," he grunted as she jerked on his prick, "Sit down on the bed." Nikki did as he ordered, letting go of his erection. He remained standing looking down at her for a second. 'He's going to ask me to suck his dick!' Nikki thought as her eyes dropped down to his tumescent manhood, hovering just a foot away from her face. She'd do it for him willingly - sucking cock always turned her on and there would be the added thrill of incest. But he had other ideas. Instead, he dropped to his knees in front of her and pushed her thighs open. Salaciously, Nikki dropped back on her elbows to further expose the underside of her crotch to her excited parent. His strong hands gripped her hips above her legs and pulled her lap to the edge of the bed. Nikki knew what was coming. "Want a taste, Dad?" she asked shamefully. "Yeah, I want to suck on my baby's pussy!" he said and then almost immediately make a chuckling noise. "That sounds terrible, doesn't it?" "God, no! I want to do everything with you," Nikki promised. "Please lick me......eat me." Nikki saw any doubts of his fly away and her father lowered his face in her lap. She watched him press his lips in the triangular patch of her pubic hair above her pussy. He left it there for several seconds and she could feel him breathing strongly through his nose, savoring the moment. Then, he moved his lips down to the puffy folds at the top of her wrinkled cleft and kissed them. Pulling his mouth off her, he ran his hands down in her lap and used his thumbs to peel back the covering of her clit. Nikki licked her lips in anticipation as he blew air across the pea-sized prominence. His tongue flicked out and lapped at the sensitive bundle, slowly at first, and then in rapid fashion. "Mmmmmmmmm," Nikki murmured. "MmmmmmHhhhhmmmmm!" Spreading her legs for her father's tongue had her juiced again to the max...it was better than spreading them for Tori's tongue...anyone's tongue! This man had raised her and now he was licking her! Her father squashed his mouth on the pink lining surrounding her erect clitoris and he sucked on it, sending shivers through Nikki's nervous system. "OOoooooooMMmmmhhhhhmmm," she yelped and he looked up into her eyes. Remaining on her elbows so she could watch, Nikki raised her hands from the bed to squeeze her tits, pushing them to the center of her chest to show her father how they moved all around. Dad kept up his attack on her pussy and she wiggled her furry furrow on his lips, incestuous lust coursing through both of them. His lips left her ravaged clitty and moved lower, his tongue sliding down her slit like a letter opener, right down to the entrance of her pussy. "Oh, Daddy......uuuhhhhhh....right there.....UUUHHHHHHhhHHH!" Nikki whimpered as he sent his stiffened tongue into her pussyhole as deep as he could work it. Her legs tried to snap closed at the forbidden act but her father's hands pushed them back wide as he began tongue-fucking her. "THAT'SIT....MMMMMMMHHHMMMMM....OOOOHHHHH!" Nikki threw her right hand on top of her father's head and humped her cunt on his tongue...once...twice...and then her loins exploded, "GGGGAAAA!!!" Her other hand grabbed his head and she fell back on the bed, throwing her crescending crotch at his slurping mouth. From a faraway place, she felt him sucking and sucking on her oily discharge like wine. Minutes later, she was calmed down, holding her father's head as he kissed her belly. Nikki brought her head off the bed and looked down her reclining body to watch his mouth explore more of her body. 'God, he turns me on!' Nikki declared to herself as her father planted another soft kiss on her bellybutton and then tried to work his tongue into that as well. "Dad, I think I love you," Nikki cooed at the ticklish feeling. He stopped his oral ministrations and looked up her sexy body as he slid his hands slowly up her sides. "You don't love me.....not like that....." His hands collected her fanned breasts and massaged them, "...you'll meet some guy in a few years and get married...." His hands went into her armpits and began pushing her back on the bed as he raised up, "...like any other ordinary girl..." He moved on the bed with her, over her as she instinctively spread her legs for him, his weight coming down on her, "...but until then.." he whispered in her ear as she felt the spongy head of his prick bump against the thin area of skin between her pussy and asshole, "...you're all mine." Nikki gasped as he found her saliva-slick notch and he filled her again with his hard cock. Her pussy trembled around his sinking member after the two strong orgasms she'd already had. She threw her arms around his neck as he began to screw her hard. "Yeesssss.....mmmhhhhmmm...OH...OH....UHHH...uuuhh...oooh...OOOH....uuhhhh....nnnnngg....OHDAD....sssss...hhhssss...OOH!" 'I love Nikki's young, tight pussy!' Jonas wanted to shout so loud that the neighbors would hear. He'd never enjoyed fucking any woman as much as he was his own daughter; she was the one woman he would never grow tired of sexually - the tabooness would always be exciting. Her sleek body felt so good under him as he jammed his hands under her ass, transferring most of his weight into his shoulders, the extra heaviness pinning her to the bed. With handfuls of her sexy ass, he changed his thrusts by moving his hips in circles like a Ferris wheel. He pumped into her going downward and then lifted her whole crotch with the upward roll of his hips. Nikki seemed to love that. "Oooohh....you're fucking....me so good...OHH...OOHHH...UUUHHH," she panted with each thrust. Nikki was a very vocal lover and it just lit the fire under him. 'Coming's going to be so good,' he thought giddily. Then he remembered that he didn't know if it would be safe. His lust had almost consumed him. He sunk his erection in her and raised himself up on his arms. Nikki's hands remained around his neck as they looked at each other. "Baby, what kind of birth control do you use?" he asked, sincerely not knowing. "I'm on the Pill, of course," Nikki replied, rubbing his neck. "Great!" he replied, unable to keep the excitement out of his voice. "Yeah, Dad...you can come in me!" Nikki said hotly "Is that what you wanted to know?...."Well, it's all right...you can shoot it way up inside me!" Jonas's dick throbbed at Nikki's lewd invitation. "Oh, baby, when you talk that way!..." "I can't wait to feel it, Dad...I saw how big you came in Carmen...do me just like that!...come on!" "I'm going to, Nikki," he swore as he began fucking her again. He wasn't going to last long with the green light to fill her belly with his seed. He looked down between their bodies and saw his cock clearly for the first time as it knifed between her spread pussy lips. 'Jesus, look at that...that's fucking obscene!' his mind shouted. His daughter's hands slid down his chest and wrapped around his back, then moved lower to grip his churning ass. "OOOHYEAAHH...GIVE IT TO ME!" Nikki wailed at him now, "OH..UHH...DOITDAD...UUUHHHH....COMEINME...COMEINME!" Jonas felt himself going over the edge...right into the abyss. "UUNGGGHHHH...ARRRGGGGGHHHH!" he groaned as his buried cock spat the first long rope of his cum in his daughter, his fingers digging into the bedspread on either side of her head. His vision crossed and swam before his eyes as following spurts, more like little wellings, slowly deposited the rest of his ball load all up and down the lining of Nikki's sweet cunt as he worked his softening prick in and out, in and out. "Mmmmmm...I can feel it," Nikki said softly and he looked at her flushed face. "It feels wild, Dad." Jonas didn't know what to say beyond that...it was mind-blowing. He lowered himself down and kissed her several times, nibbling at her lips in post-orgasmic serenity. Jonas woke up alone in his bed around 9 A.M. the next morning. He had forgotten to pull the curtains before he retired the night before and now bright Saturday sunlight lit the room. Jonas lay there with his eyes closed for several minutes, remembering the night before. Sticking it in her out on the deck, eating her until she came again and then getting his own rocks off between her young legs...God, he felt ten years younger. She was just amazing. Sexually, she was far more developed than others her age but she still had that tight 20 year old body. He felt no regrets about partaking in what she had offered. He turned over in the bed and swore he could smell Nikki's scent on the pillow. She had wanted to sleep with him in his bed, after they had both cleaned up a bit. She'd felt so good, laying beside him. 'I wonder if she's still here?' Jonas thought. Nikki was not known for rising early on a weekend and they had been up late. He swung his legs out of bed and walked into the bathroom. He took a much needed piss and brushed his hair and mustache. "You look pretty good this morning, you old lecher," he said to his 41 year old reflection and went back into the bedroom to dress. He decided on his usual beach house garb - underwear and a pair of shorts. Most days that was all you needed unless a marine layer was socking in the coast. Whistling 'It Never Rains in Southern California', he headed toward the main part of the house. Walking through the living room, he could smell hot coffee. 'She is here...good.' He entered the kitchen to find it empty. The coffee sounded real good. He decided to search for his daughter after he poured himself a cup. As he was getting a cup from the cupboard, he looked out the kitchen window and spotted the top of Nikki's head. She was sitting on the bench under the window. He rapped on the pane and she stood up, gave him a wave and started for the doors to the living room. Jonas poured his cup of coffee and turned around to find Nikki standing in the kitchen doorway. "Good morning...Daddy," Nikki said oh-so-innocently and then chuckled at their little secret. She was wearing a terry cloth robe, cinched at the waist; it looked too big on her. She'd pinned most of her hair up in the back, leaving a long lock of hair hanging down either side of her face. She was holding her own coffee cup. "Well, good morning to you, darling daughter," he played along, leaning back against the counter and sipping his coffee. She walked up to him, stood on her tiptoes and gave him a quick peck on the lips. Then she pulled away and leaned against the sink area. "Like my robe?" she said, holding out her arms. "That's your mother's robe," Jonas observed and Nikki shook her head. "No, Daddy...this robe belongs to the woman of the house." Nikki's inference was obvious; she was sharing his bed, so she was the new woman of the house. Jonas got the idea that Nikki got a kick out of taking the place of her mother. "You sure earned it last night," he complimented her, walking past her and tapping a finger on her lips. She made a playful biting motion at it before following him into the living room. He sat on the couch and she dropped into an easy chair, folding a leg underneath her. "Look like a good day out there?" he asked. "Everyday is going to be good from now on," she promised. "Are you planning to answer every question with a little twist?" Nikki laughed. "All right, I'll stop...I'm still high from last night!" "You know we irrevocably changed our relationship last night..." Jonas began, getting ready to lay down some ground rules for any further forbidden fornication. They were playing with fire and he had to impress that on her. "Not that we had much of a relationship before this," Nikki observed. "OUCH!" Jonas acted hurt, putting a hand on his chest. "That hurt." "Well, come on, Dad," Nikki continued, "The last 3 or 4 years, you've been sort of distant...working late a lot...maybe entertaining other women according to mother," she smiled at the dig. "I'm sorry, baby," Jonas said sincerely. "Dad, you should thank your lucky stars...if we had had a real father-daughter relationship, I wouldn't have proposed what happened last night." "In that case, I'm glad I ignored you," Jonas said tongue-in-cheek. Nikki got up and moved to sit beside him. Just then, a faint beeping sound came from her purse which sat on the coffee table. "My beeper," she explained, opening her purse and turning off the device. She looked at the end of it to see what call back number was displayed. "It's Tori." "Here you go," Jonas said, picking up the cordless handset from the base beside the couch. Nikki sat beside him, facing him and dialed Tori. "Hi, Tori...what did you tell her?...O.K., that was good...how long ago did she call?...all right, thanks...I can't talk right now...because!" She smiled at him. "I'll talk to you later." She turned the handset off. "What was that about?" Jonas asked. Nikki tapped the end of the headset's antenna against her mouth, obviously in thought. "O.K., I'm going to tell you but you can't get mad...I told Mom I was staying at Tori's last night." "I think I can forgive you that," Jonas said, running his finger along her jawline. He preferred to remember her flat on her back, receiving his hard staff in her fabulous pussy - that, after all, had been the end result of her little white lie. "Thanks," she said, moving her foot against his left shin, rubbing it. "I need to call Mom. She's looking for me." "Sure, go ahead." Nikki dialed home and began talking to his soon-to-be-ex-wife. "Hi, Mom! Tori said you called...I'll probably be home later this afternoon...I don't know, 4 or 5 o'clock maybe...we can still do something later...where am I?" Nikki looked at him, unsure what she should say. Jonas motioned that she should tell her she was there. "I'm heading out to see Dad...he is still my father. I know you guys are upset at each other...Mom, listen. I'm just going to stop in and say hello, O.K.? I'll be home around noon, how's that?...we'll go shopping...great, I'll see you then. Bye." Nikki handed the handset back to him. "Mom didn't like the fact that I was coming to see you." "Nikki, she's going to be like that for a long time." "It's going to be hard to slip out here as much as I want to," Nikki said, rubbing her hand on his hairy chest. "I'm sure you'll find a way...there is something you need to find out for me. We've got to be sure that she's not having me watched anymore." "Eeeewwww, you're right." Nikki saw the danger in that. "It may be nothing to worry about...your mother would just think you were here visiting. How could she ever imagine what we are really going to be doing out here?" Jonas stroked her neck as he thought about all her future visits, all those future fuck sessions. "Now you're doing it!" Nikki pointed out. "I couldn't resist it...you excite your old man." "You're hardly old. I do have something to tell you that might get you more excited...I was thinking about it when I was sitting outside." "I'm all ears," Jonas said. "It involves Tori...me and her are more than best friends...I sorta seduced her a few years ago!" Jonas perked up at that. Every man just loves to watch two girls get it on...all those legs and asses and tits and tongues rolling around. One of his favorite things had been sneaking down to the Cheetah club to watch some girl-girl action and try to pick up one of the dancers. "Were you two experimenting a little? Just curious?" "Not me...I got into it at college. But it was Tori's first time." "No wonder your grades were so bad," Jonas observed. "OOOWW!" Nikki had pulled on his chest hairs. "Boy, I thought you'd be more surprised than this!" Nikki said. "I'm really only surprised at your choice...Tori's just sort of, I don't know, uh, homely?" "Dad, when's the last time you've seen Tori?" Jonas guessed it may have been maybe two years and he told her so. "Then, you haven't seen the new Tori...she's dropped a lot of weight, cut her hair short...and she grew." Nikki held her hands in front of her chest in a Dolly Parton parody."I can't believe Tori's changed that much," he said. "You'll see...the reason I brought it up is that I'd like to have Tori over....maybe you'd like to watch us." "Like from a closet?" Jonas asked, slightly intrigued. The threat of Tori finding out about him and Nikki really put a damper on his arousal. "No, silly....we're naked, you're naked....and then we have a little audience participation at the end." Now, that surprised Jonas; that she would even consider telling Tori about their incestuous affair because that was what she was proposing. "Nikki, absolutely not! You can not tell anyone about us. Do you understand what could happen to me?...to us?" Jonas scolded her for even dreaming up such a crazy idea.

Part 5

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11137.txt

kellis

Hidden Journal: Mrs. Hollowell

"Aw, come on, Cindy; let us feel of it." "It! That's not an it; that's part of me!" I realized I had been hearing children's voices for some time. I had come up for air in Heinlein's I Will Fear no Evil, where the old fart has just calmed down after discovering he's transplanted into a woman. The voices penetrated and of course riveted my attention. The signals analysis program cleared Alpha Test on Sunday evening, and I have the week off - three days compensatory and two of vacation just to round it out. I looked at my wrist watch: 15:37. No doubt school had let out. For the day or for the semester? In wheedling tones a third voice offered, "We'll let you feel of our parts, too." It was a warm day, but because you can still get cold nights here even in early June, the super hadn't switched to air conditioning yet. So I'd opened my den windows wide this morning. I got up and leaned close to them, prevented from putting my head out by the screen. "Do yours swell up like Joey's?" The den is in the back of my apartment. Its wall faces the embankment sloping up toward Pelton Street, where it's topped by a thick line of boxwood hedges running beyond the whole length of the building. I know how slowly boxwoods grow; these were huge and must have been growing here long before the apartments were built five years ago. I had admired the privacy they afforded. Someone else must have noted it, too. From the sound of their voices the children were at the foot of the embankment, probably near the rainwater drain against the apartment wall, invisible from my position unless I removed the screen, which could hardly be done silently. "Sure, only bigger." "Show me." "You have to jack 'em." "Jack 'em!" A soprano giggle. "Like jacking a tire?" "No, like this. Watch." A pause, then, "You're just pulling the skin back and forth. Wow! It sure does stretch!" "Wanna do it?" "Sure." The third voice was deeper, though not clearly masculine. "Wait a minute, Chip. Cindy, you have to let us feel, too." "Oh, mine don't stretch like that." "No, but... Yours goes in you!" "Well, there's nothing in it!" It? Hadn't she forbidden the pronoun? What was this: heavy flirt protocol in the pre-teen set? "How do you know? What have you put in it?" No answer to that. After a few seconds the lightest voice remarked, "It is growing!" Deepest, though only slightly, said disgustedly, "Chip, if you let her keep feeling, she'll never let us in." The lightest, apparently Cindy, said with a smirk, "Chip's is bigger than yours now." After a short pause deepest conceded. "You can do mine, too, if you want." Another pause. Cindy breathed, "They do grow!... If you still want to, you can feel. But be careful. I tried doing a candle and it made me bleed." "A candle?" The medium voice, apparently Chip's, was incredulous. Deepest promised, "We'll be careful, Cindy." A long silence fell. Was there any possibility whatsoever they were up to something else? I listened intently when their conversation resumed. Deepest asked, "How far did Mary put the candle in?" "A long way." "Can you see? Bend over more." "What's to see?" "My finger is in to the knuckle." "Let me try," Chip demanded. "Look, it didn't bleed," deepest announced. "But my finger's wet." Cindy started to explain, "It gets anything wet that you..." "That you put in it?" She didn't continue. Chip exclaimed, "Wow, it is wet!" After a pause Cindy asked, "Does it get any bigger than this?" Deepest replied, "It's big enough." "Big enough for what?" "To go in you. That's what it's for, you know." Cindy retorted, "I know about fucking." Chip: "Do you want to do it?" "N-no." "Why not?" "You'll tell everybody." Deepest: "No, we won't." "You will, David! You told about you and Mary." "I never told anybody! How do you know it wa'n't Mary?" Chip: "You did Mary? When?" Deepest, apparently David: "See, Cindy? I never even told Chip!" Again a pause. Cindy conceded, "Well, all right. If you promise." Two voices concurrently: "We promise! Cross our hearts!" "Okay. Chip can do me." David began a protest. "Why does he get to go..." First? Perhaps it occurred to him that second is better than nothing. If the girl meant to limit the privilege to Chip -- David probably didn't know how unlikely that was! -- David would have a powerful argument to change her mind once Chip had taken her. I well recalled how important blackmail is among children. David was full of advice. "Get in between her legs... Spit on your hand and rub it... Don't mash her flat, Chip; lean on your elbows." Obviously the voice of experience, with Mary it seemed at least. But silence fell and endured. I stood up and turned toward the sliding glass door -- but paused. Huh! What was this, Harry the voyeur? Watching others fuck unbeknownst is clearly an invasion of privacy. But if they're fucking under my window? And from the high voices, as well as the unsophisticated conversation, these were all children. I never heard a law governing relations between children; there may well be none in this state when all parties are below the so-called age of consent. But should I let them continue? A single shouted "What the hell?" would certainly stop it. That is, stop it here. What if the girl bled again -- how would they react? A dick, even one driven by a mere boy, is rougher than a candle. I decided that I needed more information before deciding. It was pleasant on the balcony, a bit cool in the low seventies, I estimated. The sun was on Mrs. Hollowell's side of the building, leaving mine in shade. I stopped at the end of the wall, knelt to place my head below the top of the rail, and slowly advanced one eye past the edge. The three were on the large cement block containing the storm drain, just as I had surmised, about forty feet ahead of and below me. Two lay directly on the concrete, the other kneeling beside them. Schoolbooks were stacked on the nearby grass. I could see only the lower half of the two prone bodies. The legs of the one underneath were bare, knees drawn up. Assuming that to be Cindy, her jeans had been removed and placed under her buttocks. Chip's jeans, assuming he was still the one on top, were lowered to his knees. The girl's arms were on his back under his flannel shirt. His buttocks were rotating up and down, the cheek muscles tightening rhythmically. David had lowered his jeans to his ankle -- if this was indeed David and not a spent Chip. One hand caressed the junction of the two before him while the other moved slowly between his own legs, suggesting that this was in fact an anticipatory David. He had black hair on his head but little if any pubic hair. I guessed that he was about thirteen. Chip's motion came to a standstill. He strained forward, shuddering, and soon backed off the girl. "How was it?" asked David, eyes intent on the other's midsection, still turned away from me. Chip's retort surprised all of us."We shouldn't be doing this." "What?" David demanded, mouth falling open. "Why not?" asked the girl, rising on her elbows, flannel shirt open to her neck, legs splayed apart. Chip turned his back on both of them. Strangely, only the girl had pubic hair, tightly curled, matching the dark brown locks tangled on her head. That is, it struck me as strange at the moment before I remembered that girls mature first. I began to wonder who really had called this little convention. David explained, waddling around to take Chip's place, "He's just come. Don't pay him any attention." "I want to know what he means," the girl demanded firmly, closing her legs. "Darn it, Chip!" David complained, turning sideways to glare at the other's back. His erect penis stood out quite respectably, I thought, remembering my own at that age. "Oh, go ahead!" Chip advised, pulling up his jeans. "Not until you tell me," said Cindy adamantly. Chip walked off several paces. David sighed. "It's the way some boys are, Cindy, when they come. They wish they hadn't." "Why ever not?" "I don't know. It's just the way they are. Some of them. You shouldn't pay him any attention." His hand went between her thighs. "Are you sure he ain't sick?" she asked as her legs parted slightly. He put his knee between them while his hand rose to her mound. "He ain't sick. I tell you, he's just come, that's all." Her legs widened and David sank upon her. Her hands went between them. I had a clear view of her fingers providing guidance. She said, "You're bigger than he is." The response was muffled in her hair. She added, "Are you sure he came? I didn't feel anything." Hardly the little virgin she'd seemed! "He don't squirt yet," David muttered, beginning the immemorial motion. "Then how can he come?" "Lots of boys come before they squirt the first time." "Do you squirt?" He was silent, moving a little faster. She lost interest in her question. Her legs rose to clasp his hips. Their rhythm grew quicker. As I watched both actors impressed me. The girl's hands had descended to the boy's buttocks, pulling him tighter on each thrust. The sharp young dick had been piercing her a good minute or more. Though admittedly somewhat older, I had under similar circumstances, completely overwhelmed by irresistible sweetness, inseminated my partner in hardly ten seconds. Chip had turned to watch them, I thought, until I saw that he was looking upward. I followed the line of his gaze ... to Mrs. Hollowell's balcony projection at the opposite end of the building. There sat the fortyish Mrs. Hollowell, left arm on her railing, chin lowered to that hand, watching the events below in obvious fascination. She was wearing a short-sleeved sweater and a plaid skirt. I have never seen her in slacks. Her knees were splayed and her hand was under the raised skirt. The sun behind her limned her blonde hair and the sweater threads at her shoulders. It was too dark under her skirt to see what she was doing. Not that it was in doubt. What I mean is, to my disappointment I couldn't discern the details. But Chip was watching her. Didn't she know it? My incredulous question was answered almost as I thought it. She smiled at the boy and stuck out her tongue. He immediately spun around with his back to her. He said quietly, turning only his head toward the concrete, "Hurry up, David. I've got to go home." But the two there were definitely focused inward. In fact they were fucking like minks. (Never having seen minks fuck, I started to strike that in the interests of verifiability -- but I thought it was spelled <minx>. That word is defined as a wanton woman, which may be how the cliche arrived, or so I prefer to believe. Let it stand.) The girl was grunting with each thrust. When her grunts turned to soft soprano screams, David delivered as Chip had done, straining forward and shuddering. That would have been an impressive performance for thirty-year-olds! My god, today's kids are really something! Why all the pretended innocence? David backed off her but sat down, bare ass on the cold concrete, and flopped onto his back. Semen glistened on his fast wilting dick and in the girl's pubic hair. She rose on her elbow wearing an enduring smile. A just-fucked female is pretty, especially if she smiles for the enjoyment of it, which this smile clearly was, even if she's hardly thirteen. Or less. Her face was that of a child, unblemished and unadorned. Her flannel shirt, identical in style to the boys', was open further, disclosing nipples without backing mounds. No brassiere. I'd thought girls that age insisted on brassieres. In fact this one was no exception, I learned as she gathered her clothing. A brassiere of tiny cups was tangled with her panties in the balled-up jeans. She donned it deftly somehow by sliding it up the arm of her shirt. Functionally she's as capable a female as my Daisy. Mrs. Hollowell had raised her head. Both hands now rested on the rail. For some reason at that moment she looked up. Perhaps it occurred to her to verify their concealment. Her eyes widened, the whites shining even at that distance, which must have been seventy feet. Her head came forward to stare. At what, was clear enough. I stood up and waved, a short gesture with my extended hand. Her mouth fell open. I spun on my heel and returned inside, preferring that the children not see my surveillance. Waited beside the den window, wondering if the collusion between the woman and the boys extended to informing them of their exposure. I heard Cindy: "You've got my algebra book." Chip, gruffly: "Here." Cindy again: "Chip, what's the matter?" "It's all right." "Is it true what David said? Does coming make you sorry?" I wish I could've seen whether he looked up when he answered. "Don't worry. I won't tell anybody." "Boys are weird!" "I guess." Her voice became sympathetic. "Maybe it'll get better when you really <can> come." She received only silence in return for that idea. "Cindy, let's go," David urged. "You, too, Chip. Thought you were in such a hurry!" Silence. I couldn't resist returning to the balcony. Indeed they were gone and the far balcony extension was empty. An astounding affair! I sat in the den thinking it over. None of it was my business. Or was it? These were children, fucking knowingly for the delectation of an adult. And doing it under my window. Could anything happen that would expose me to liability? Perhaps ... if anyone could prove I knew about it but refrained from interfering. And Mrs. Hollowell could prove it, even if her own credibility was vulnerable. You damn fool, I cursed myself, why didn't you yell at them? Because, of course, they took me back to my own early experience. The human puppy is cute, especially fucking. I found her number in the book and dialed it. When she answered, I said, "What the hell, Mrs. Hollowell?" "Is that supposed to be poetry?" "I'm serious, Mrs. Hollowell." "<Will> you call me Eunice?" "If you'll tell me what's going on." She took a deep breath. "You'd better come over here." "All right, I will. Now?" "Give me five minutes." "Okay." I hung up and on a hunch returned again to the balcony, peering with one eye through the rails. I didn't have long to wait. David dropped from Mrs. Hollowell's balcony extension onto the sloping bank nearby after first throwing down his book bag. He ran up the bank and disappeared through a small gap in the hedge. I waited a bit but Chip didn't show. She admitted me on the first knock. Her red face was composed but her breath reeked of booze. The sweater was gone in favor of a sleeveless satin blouse, cut like a man's vest without buttons, above the same skirt. She led me into her living room, which in my mirror image of her apartment was my office, spun about and said, "Will you have a drink?" Keep this friendly? "If you have scotch." "I do, but not the best. I don't drink it." She went into the back of her liquor cabinet and removed a bottle of the cheaper stuff. She had no ice. I accepted it diluted with water. She drank bourbon neat with me, sitting on the couch while I faced her in an overstuffed chair. She said, "I guess you want an explanation." "Frankly, ah, Eunice, I'm not sure what I want. Except not to be liable." Her gaze sharpened. "Liable? For what?" "For letting children fuck under my nose." She winced. "Do you have to use that word?" "In this case, yes. And I'll use it again. They are certainly children; only the girl has any significant pubic hair. They exposed themselves and fucked like minks under my window and both our balconies. You watched it. Furthermore they <knew> you were watching! -- the boys, at least." She cocked an eyebrow. "You watched all of it, didn't you?" "Almost," I admitted. "So why didn't you stop it?" "I don't know." "Yes, you do." Her lip curled. "You enjoyed the show." "So did you." She shrugged. "I admit it." "You don't have to admit it. I saw how you watched them." "At least I was more comfortable than you." "Yeah. You had a frigging good time." She tossed her head. "Did you crouch there for the whole show?" She nodded toward my dusty britches. "On your knees, were you?" I ignored that. "The girl's in on it, too, is she?" "What do you mean?" "Obviously you didn't care if they saw you." "Didn't you notice how they laid her down? Her head was toward me. If she saw anyone it was you." "Actually I don't think she ever looked up." "Of course not. Everything she wanted was in arm's reach. Did you observe that it took both of them to finish her?""Yes, I noticed. I noticed a lot of things. What's your arrangement with them? Eunice, are you fucking those boys?" "Harry! What a terrible thing to ask!" "I saw you stick out your tongue at Chip." "Chip, Chip!" She looked away. "He just won't grow up." "Well, are you?" She looked at me thoughtfully. "I'm afraid they don't find a woman of my age nearly as attractive as she finds them." "So what are you doing with them?" "Enjoying them. Helping them grow up." I stared at her, thinking what she could mean. "Do you mean you advise them how to seduce the girls?" She nodded. "Sometimes." "Hmm. Does your advice work?" She grinned. "Always." "It did this afternoon," I admitted. "Huh! That Cindy is a little trollop, playing the innocent. She's laid half the boys in school in higher grades than she is. And she's older than David and Chip." I nodded. "They played innocent, all right, the boys, too! Is that how you train them?" She grinned. "Of course. It's especially effective on grown women. As to the girl, she seems naturally gifted." "How do you know of her experience?" "Teachers talk about their students. I'm a substitute teacher at Christy High, you know." I nodded, remembering. I had to chuckle. "You have an unusual approach to extracurricular activities: Seduction one-oh-one." "In fact, Harry, I do the children some good." "Do you! Unfortunately the society we live in doesn't agree." "I'm well aware of that," she snarled, actually gritting her teeth. "But have you ever noticed how poorly they justify their condemnation? It's all unfounded assertion." Her voice became mocking. "'Unpropitious sexual revelation is devasting to the child.' Poppycock! They don't even try to prove it, except in a circular way. The only harm pre-adolescent consensual sex does to a child is the guilt and shame society visits on him afterward, whether caught or not." Her face had reddened further. I noted, "Those words sound familiar in your mouth. You've argued this before, haven't you?" "Yes, I have." She visibly calmed herself, continuing more quietly, "Children are of course only too capable of excess. They need guidance when they explore anything new, particularly when it's the most profound sensual experience that one can have. I offer that guidance to the discrete ones who might profit by it." "I see," I said dryly. "Do you?" "I think so. I see you frigging like mad while you watch." "Like mad? Surely not!" "Once more, Eunice: are you fucking those boys?" She raised her chin. "One's own body is of course the most convenient blackboard." I chuckled. "God! Surely you understand the risk." She smiled slightly. "In my last job I was charged with contributing to the delinquency of a minor." "Were you! What happened?" "One of my boys jilted his girlfriend. He talked too much. She went to the boy's mother who called the cops. Of course they broke him down." "No, I mean, what happened to you?" She shrugged. "I denied it. My lawyer gave the jury an alternate hypothesis, that the boys wanted revenge for heavy detention. They had spent a lot of hours in special detention! The jury bought it." She winked. "It's hard to convince people that a woman has harmed boys." "It was an all-male jury, eh?" "How'd you guess?" I grunted. "I can hear the verdict now: 'Lucky little shits! Not guilty.'" "In just about ten minutes." She grinned in satisfaction. "But you did leave town, didn't you?" "Well, yes, I had to. You have no idea how venomous boys' mothers can be!" "So you continue to run at least that much risk." "It's worth it." Her gaze was level. "If you say so. Unfortunately I don't have your advantage with a jury." "You don't need it so long as --" Suddenly her eyebrows went up. "Say, Harry, you're not interested in young boys, are you?" "No. I have very little use for males in any capacity. If I did -- you are aware of this, aren't you? -- a man with young boys is worth 40 years in this state, regardless of the jury composition." She chuckled. "I've heard something about it. How about young girls? I see 'em in droves. If she had a half-way decent father, a young girl almost always finds a similar man totally irresistible. With a little effort you could be the younger version for a lot of them." "Thank you, I think," I conceded, taking another sip of my drink. She smiled coquettishly. "Are you going to turn me in, Harry?" "No, probably not. But children fucking under my window worries me." "The trick is simply for you to know nothing about it." Her eyes narrowed. "I see. You're concerned that I might testify against you if it should come to that." "That was the thought," I admitted, "that propelled me over here." "Huh! I meant to ask you, what are you doing home today?" "Had the day off." She grinned. "Do you have any idea how startled I was to see your face between the rails?" I chuckled. "Your mouth actually dropped open." She cocked her head at me. "It's not as if you don't get enough. What happened to the little fatty who recently cut me dead?" [See "Hidden Journal: Florrie."] "She'd had a hard time, Eunice." "So I heard! I saw her with a bag of groceries the next day but not since." "So you heard?" "We had a little chat. She pumped me for information." "About me?" "Of course. I told her very little. I know more about your girl friend than you. Where's fatty now?" "Gone home to papa." "Not your type, Harry?" "More the other way, I gather. She decided I wasn't for her." "Too demanding, was she?" "Maybe. I was surprised you didn't mention her to Daisy." "None of my business," she retorted, shrugging. Of course she's met Daisy here several times and talked with her. It was Daisy, I recall, who reported Eunice to be a substitute teacher. "My point isn't just gossip," she continued. "You have quality female company. You don't need to watch my children for gratification. But you didn't answer me about the girls. D'you have a yen for pubescent girls, Harry?" I laughed. "Since we seem to be exchanging privacies, I'll admit to you, Eunice, that I have a yen for any female human who wants me." "That's hardly news. You're a man, aren't you? But what of little girls?" "I was going on to say that no, I don't feel comfortable with the idea of poking little girls. I can't defend it; it's inconsistent, I know. Almost any pussy is capacious enough for male attention. I've actually seen three year olds raped without permanent physical damage. But I'll never do it! I want a girl who at least comes to my shoulder, preferably one with unmistakable mammaries, if you don't mind." "How typical!" I spread my hands. "That's just the way I am." She looked thoughtful. "Prefer mature ones, do you?" I reverted to the original subject. "How often do you expect to have kids fucking behind that bank?" "It's hard to say, now. School's out next week. David and Jay -- Most of my boys are going away, one place or another, for the summer. Chip will be here, but he's not reliable." "You don't coach girls?" "'Coach!' Thank you, Harry. That's a good word for it. No, not just at present. I'm a bit ambivalent about girls. I'd like to counsel them, but I've never found the formula to shut them up!" I chuckled too. "Yes, I understand that's a general problem. So what will you do this summer?" "Instead of welcoming boys, you mean?" She studied me pensively. "I don't know. I might take a cruise." "On a substitute teacher's salary?" "Huh! Do you think I could afford this apartment on that?" "I suppose not." "I don't need their money, Harry. I need their children." "What is your personal situation, Eunice? Not married, I take it." "Divorced. With investments. If I need funds, Harry, I clip a coupon." "Good for you. But you can't buy kids, at least not in the U. S. You're choosier than I am." She cocked her head. "So that any penis -- excuse me; cock -- won't do? Is that your point?" She shrugged. "I say, any port in a pinch. It's just that the older it is the less interesting. A different slant, Harry." "Why less interesting?" "Less of a challenge to get it and hold it." My eyebrows rose. "Challenge? Do women think of it that way?" She grinned. "Isn't it permitted?" I snorted. "It's seems that women are permitted anything they dare." "How true!" She stood up. "Keep your seat, Harry. I'll be right back. I want to show you something." Looked around the room. Vanilla female: crocheted antimacassars, matching arm covers on couch and chair, glazed ceramic nymphs and satyrs, each two inches high, standing on most horizontal surfaces. Two landscapes of sylvan glades, fleurs-de-lis wallpaper. No personal photos. Typical after a divorce? The carpet was thick. Everything was clean, at least enough to satisfy a man. The woman returned to the room, saying "Look at this." She put a bit of metal in my hand, a ring with a green stone the size of a BB. Curiously the bottom of the ring had separated and folded back. "Odd ring," I noted, bouncing it in my palm. She grinned. "Rather odd use for it, too." "What's that?" Her arms went up, hands descending behind her. In a moment they reappeared, grasped the upper parts of her sleeveless blouse and pulled the whole thing forward and off her body. I'm always amazed at how intricately and effortlessly women manipulate their clothing. Though I've heard them express the same sentiment about neckties.Anyway, that removal exposed her unrestrained breasts: female but not exceptional, small nipples surprisingly dark for a blonde, puckered. Was she an exhibitionist? The blouse fell to the couch, and she extended her hand for the ring. She passed it over her left nipple, where it stuck as the hand departed. I got to my feet to examine this phenomenon. The folded part had been closed after passing through the fleshiest part of the nipple! The ring was now impaled into the protrusion intended for a baby's mouth. Through the fog of my astonishment, I began to believe she had a pierced nipple, as most women pierce their ears. "But you didn't just pierce it!" I breathed. She was chuckling, staring at my expression. "Oh, Harry! For a moment I was afraid your eyes would pop out and roll on the floor." I bent to study it. "Is it actually through the flesh?" "Take it in your hand. Pull on it." I did as directed. It was certainly firmly attached. "That doesn't hurt?" "Well, if you pulled hard enough, it would. But, no, I didn't just pierce it. It's been there eight years. I have to put the ring in every day to keep the hole open." "Why do that?" She purred, "Don't you find it striking?" "It is that!" "The other is also pierced. Wait till you feel them on your chest." I deliberately cupped the entire breast. Indeed, the stone tickled my palm. "It's different," I admitted. But aside from the novelty, good for about five minutes, I have to note here that it was more a distraction than a stimulus. "I have another ring, Harry, that may interest you more. It's also an emerald. The ring itself has an oval shape when it's closed. Which it is now." "Implying that it's on your body somewhere," I noted, "presumably elsewhere than your ears." Her earlobes were pierced by small emerald studs. She grinned, her eyes shining. "It passes through the vestibule of the vagina, just under the urethral opening. Its stone is not faceted as these; instead, it's been ground very smooth. Wait until you feel it slicing you." "Slicing?" "Not painfully, Harry. I'm told it feels rather like a dull knife to the male, especially when he pulls nearly out. To me, it amplifies the clitoral sensation." "It's in you now?" "Oh, yes." She took my arm. "Come along, and I'll show you." I admit the idea intrigued me. At both ends. I had to reach down and adjust my erection before I followed her into the bedroom. I had an impression of tables full of... photograph albums? -- and a huge king-size bed. My clothing hit the floor while she inserted the other tit ring, admitting that this one gave her trouble because its hole tended to close up in only a day or two. Her pubic hair was black, trimmed away from the groin. Apparently, this woman is a bottle blonde. She was right: it felt a bit like a dull knife, scraping me lengthwise. And I was right: the sum of all three was a big distraction. After a bit, I decided this might actually be an advantage. It certainly slowed down my rabbit. Was that the point? Very possibly. Young boys atop their early women are also notorious for rabbithood. I had poked Daisy on Sunday and been celibate since, long enough to generate respectable pressure, but now I was a long time coming, as the song says. I resolved that if we were to try another, at least the bottom ring must come out. Based on the moans, grunts, and heaving breasts, she'd been climaxing right along -- if that word can be applied to a continual process! But at my first squirt, she astounded me by very suddenly rolling out from under me and gobbling my dick into her mouth. Most of my fluid went there, as much as I could stand. Here's another who knows not Daisy's trick. When I had to back out, she surprised me again. Her head came up under mine, obviously seeking a kiss. I allowed it; it would not occur to me to refuse a woman I'd just splashed. Her tongue entered my mouth, followed by a perfect gob of bland liquid. I was a moment understanding what she had done. She was laughing through her nose, her mouth still glued to mine. My tongue simply pushed her gift, most of it at least, past hers and back into her own mouth. Then I raised my head. I heard her throat work as she swallowed, but her mouth flew open, and braying with laughter, she sprayed the remnant into my face. I got off her and off the bed after wiping my face on her bedsheet. She was still chuckling. Her hand went between her legs. The fingers disappeared inside her. She watched me watching her. "How do you like your flavor, Harry?" "A bit tart," I retorted. She laughed. "Oh, I don't know. Fresh seminal fluid is nearly tasteless. Typically, it has just a hint of musk. But give it a few minutes." She brought her fingers up to her face for inspection. "You left a deposit there, too." The fingers went into her mouth. "Perhaps I was referring to the manner of delivery," I explained. "You didn't like my little gesture, Harry? And I thought you were such a quick study! You gave it back without having to be asked." Her chuckling ceased. "Did you think I spit it all in your face? I'm sorry for that; it was done unconsciously." "I heard you swallow," I admitted. "Tell me: do you tease your boys this way?" "No, no, Harry. Boys are far too squeamish. They fear their own product. Let one ejaculate in your mouth, and he'll never kiss you again. Rarely will he even return. Which is too bad. The younger the semen, the healthier." "I suppose so." "Oh, definitely. And the taste is superior, although that may only be a consequence of the delight in taking it from new testes." "A psychological evaluation?" "I think so. Truly, the flavor seems to depend mostly on the distention of the bladder. Best is obtained about fifteen minutes after complete evacuation." "You have reached this conclusion after more than a few experiments, I presume?" "Thousands, Harry." "Excuse me?" She chuckled. "If you call on me occasionally, so that I can determine if you're trustworthy, I may tell you how that happened." She added, "Though I'm sure you can guess with very little thought. Still, you should find the details interesting." "If you'll talk." "Oh, I'll talk to my lover." She grinned slightly. "Did you get the point?" "What point?" "What I said about challenges." "Oh, I'm easy, I admit. Didn't you claim you were divorced?" "Do you doubt me, Harry?" "I'm surprised a husband would tolerate your experiments." "He was also my... agent." "Your pimp?" She shrugged. "That describes any good agent. Look on the second table. Do you see the large gray album?" In a moment, I found it and returned to her bedside. She sat up, ignoring our nakedness, and turned on the light, patting the bed beside her. "Sit and look, Harry." It was stuffed with photographs, all black-and-white, mostly eight by ten glossies. This was frank pornography of the kind you'll never see in Playboy or Penthouse. The adult bookstores carry magazines with similar subject photos, but few with such clarity and dramatic lighting. In all except the low closeups, Eunice's face was visible. I pointed to an extreme closeup of two dicks side-by-side in the same vagina. "Whose cunt?" "I'm in every one of these pictures, Harry. Otherwise, the picture wouldn't be here." "Incredible quality," I murmured. "I take it you refer to the camera work. They should be. If I told you his name, you'd probably recognize the photographer. And a very rich man now owns the negatives. If he isn't dead." "No color?" "No. This photographer claims color has no drama. And look at this one. Do you think color would help it?" Eunice, visible from the tits up, was turned sideways in medium closeup, brightly backlit, a very weak light on her from the camera side. Her blonde hair gleamed around her head. Enough of her face was edge-lit to be certain of her identity. Her arms were extended out of the picture before her. A large erect penis entered from that side to within two or three inches of her face. A loop of brilliant semen hung between the tip of her tongue and the head of the dick, bright strings dangling from her lips, spots of it on her nose and cheeks. The backlighting made the loops of semen the highlights of the picture. Powerful! Words can't do it justice. "All that came from one dick?" She chuckled. "That guy was a gusher. If you like to see juice, look at this one." She had three dicks in her mouth. I guess it was barely possible. Her head was slightly thrown back, eyes closed. She was so coated in paste as to be almost unrecognizable. It puddled in her eye sockets and streamed from her nostrils. The three dick heads seemed to be floating in it in her mouth. "How'd they get the camera in?" She studied it. "Had to be a telephoto shot from the crane. The guy in front probably had to lean back." "When were these made, Eunice?" "Look at this one. See any veins in that face?" "No. Makeup?" "Youth. That was twenty years ago." I thumbed through them slowly. "You have a treasure here, Eunice. I don't suppose you'd let me take some home." She regarded me curiously. "What is it? D'you want to masturbate while imagining all those penises are your penis?" "I... What if I do?" Her hand enclosed me gently. "Wouldn't you rather have company?" "I could look at these all night." "Who's going anywhere? I'll even fix you supper, though if you want me to keep peeling you, you'll have to come to the kitchen." "You can cook, too, Eunice?" "Enough to get by. If I was really good, I guess I'd be fat." "What is this? You want to keep a dick around, is that it?""Next you'll tell me to get a dildo. I want a man attached to it. Even one that talks obscenely. I wish you wouldn't, Harry." I had to chuckle, pointing at a picture of her, smiling over a dick in each hand. "That's an interesting request from the queen of obscenity." "You think so? I knew exactly what I was doing in every one of those pictures -- and at every moment this afternoon, too. The trouble with speaking obscenely is that it becomes a habit. You'll forget and do it when it can hurt you." "Ha! You push that line on the kids, do you?" "Of course." I nodded. "Right. And only the girl said 'fuck.'" "Thank you for noticing." "Too much, Eunice! Instruction in fucking with good grammar on the side." She smiled. "Ms. Hollowell's school for young gentlemen." "Everything but sucking their dicks." "Oh, I'll fellate David just before he leaves. That's a delicious child." "You'll risk losing him?" "Give him a three-month break and he'll get over it. Probably." "Only 'probably?'" "Children fill each other with such nonsense! He may decide sex is evil. I've seen it before. Or that I'm evil. Chip is already partly convinced of that! You noticed Chip's little problem? When their sexual tension is released, young boys often recall their social conditioning." "David had no difficulty." "He'll likely fall in love with some skirt that bats her eyes at him and lets him feel her up. That always happens sooner or later. In that game, age and wisdom is no match for youth and beauty." "Well, youth and beauty is where it's at, as the kids say." I cupped a decorated breast. "But these are still beautiful." "You're kind, Harry. They're sagging. I never had a child, so they never got the fat cells to carry them through. I have to lean forward to make them noticeable, but when they dangle so, they're too thin." "You can still bear a kid, can't you?" "I was clearing twenty grand a year when that was real money. Naturally I had my tubes tied." I studied her. "You don't want a kid, do you?" She chuckled. "Of course I do. I'd fuck his brains out." "Eunice, you hypocrite!" "I'm sorry, but for such flagrant incest no other word will do. Hmm. Do you like for a woman to talk so? I'd swear your organ gained a quarter of its erection when I said that." "I do like it. In a chaste mouth it sounds more honest." She leered at me. "A chaste mouth? You use words strangely." "I know: a mouth that's sucked a thousand dicks -- hey! Catch that phrase! Sure beats 'A face that launched a thousand ships.'" "I find it hard to match your enthusiasm. You were making a point?" "Such a mouth is hardly chaste, though good grammatical English fosters the illusion." She smirked. "Vulgar pastimes don't require vulgar references." Was her studied vocabulary and grammar a kind of compensation? I found a different picture, a partly frontal view of a small boy, lips parted in evident fascination, standing on a stool such that his tiny erect dick was at the same level as the relatively monstrous erection of a hairy fellow standing beside him. The young Eunice knelt before the pair, eyes contemplating them from a foot away, a hand turned palm up, fingertips lifting each set of balls. I said, "You started early, didn't you. This one is dangerous, Eunice. A prosecutor would love to show it to a jury." "I'd forgotten that one. That child's a grown man now." "You know him?" "No, but I did then. That's his father beside him. Don't you love that picture, Harry?" "Why should I?" "The contrast! What a sausage on the father! To think once it was the same as the boy's!" I suggested dryly, "Maybe I'm not equipped to appreciate it as well as you." "Too bad." She grinned at me. I closed the book reluctantly and gestured at the table. "You made a lot of photographs." "A lot of those are my erstwhile friends. This is the only album that's entirely mine." I cocked my head. "Looks like snapshots in the one on the end." "Polaroids, Harry. The invention of the instant camera has done more for private pornography than anything in history." "You're still making pictures? I get it. With your boys." "Yes." Her eyes sparkled. "How do you do it? Remote shutter?" "Sometimes. Do you know photography?" "A little. I use a Polaroid, too." "I have several cameras, Harry, including a Graflex with the Polaroid film pack. But the most interesting are handheld shots the boys take themselves." "Boys can operate your equipment?" "Oh, yes." "May I see some pictures?" Her hand tightened on my dick. "I'd rather you didn't, Harry. One of the difficulties a prosecutor faces is proving the relationship of photographs to subjects. Your testimony would help him immensely." I thought about that. "You mean everyone wears a mask?" "When faces have to show, such as oral scenes." "What do you do with the peeled backing?" "On the Polaroids, you mean? Into the fireplace, of course." I had cut Florrie's negatives into many parts with scissors! But I don't use my den fireplace. She allayed my pique at denial of the boys' pictures by showing me others. We stood beside the table, her hand retaining my dick. I took up album after album as she directed. I saw many remarkable photographs, most of very high quality, including the best known sex symbol of all time in a Greek sandwich. Many of them contained world-famous faces, both male and female, mouthing dicks. When I remarked on it, Eunice retorted that the male organ rather insists on such attention, exactly like a lollipop, red head and all. My failure to appreciate it, I gather, is sheer bigotry. I ate supper with her. Hamburgers. She was right again; she's an indifferent cook. We had another interesting fuck before I said good night. The vaginal ring may indeed do something for her. A few strokes with the tongue were enough to set her off, though the displayed intensity was not up to Florrie's or Daisy's standard. Again at my climax she squirmed around to capture most of it in her mouth, but she didn't offer to kiss me. As I stood with a hand on her door knob, she said, "Harry, we can do each other a favor this summer." "Such as?" "Most of my boys will be gone, as I told you. I know you only see your steady on weekends, which may leave you ... at loose ends. Whenever you feel a bit randy, well, here I am." "Thought you were taking a cruise." She grinned at me. "Perhaps not." I grinned back and said with pretended sheepishness, "Aw, shucks, Mom, you mean I don't have to masturbate any more?" That produced a snort, then an overdone righteous smile. "We can whip this thing, Son, if we stick together." We certainly can! Odd how things turn out. After all the uproar last Fall over blocked drains -- blocked with Polaroid ash? -- settled only when she paid my plumbing bill, it seems she regards me favorably after all. What a mixture of hot tomato and cool cucumber! What an asset in a next-door neighbor!

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/17448.txt

J R D

The DOMME's Romance

"He had the nerve to call me abusive!" the woman ranted. "Me! His older sister! He told me that I made a habit of always doing and saying the thing which would cause him the most emotional pain I could! Imagine!" Jenny Thompson, professional Dominatrix and Dominatrix trainer, replied, "Just imagine." Of course, had she been of a mind to, she could have pointed out that the woman was hiring a Dominatrix to abuse her brother in an attempt to get revenge for his unfairly calling her abusive, but she wasn't about to blow a potential job by doing so. "So you want us to kidnap and feminize him?" "Just enough to punish him. I don't want him hurt physically, at least nothing permanent. He's been through enough in that way." "How so? Was he abused as a child?" "Oh, no. It's just that he's got MS. He's partially disabled because of it." "To what extent?" "He can't walk without a walker, and even with it, he's limited to about 50 feet. Otherwise he has to use a wheelchair. Is that going to be a problem?" "No, we can still accommodate you. But, that is going to increase your bill somewhat." "Really? How much? I came to you because a friend said you could arrange this at a cheaper price than most." "Miss Grady, the reason I can offer a reduced price is because I run a Dominatrix training school. The price you get is dependent upon the skill of the trainee. Now with a handicapped person, there are some extra difficulties involved. If the person can't differentiate between the emotional stresses of being handicapped and being feminized, then the added stress could break them altogether, leaving a mental and emotional vegetable. But if they can differentiate, the fact that they live with the emotional stress of a handicap means they need more work to break. In either case, it's going to require more experience than a non-handicapped person might require." "How much?" Jenny smiled. "Don't worry. If the price is too great, we can work out a payment plan." "When can you start?" "We'll kidnap him tomorrow." THE NEXT DAY... Randall Grady woke up. It took him a few seconds to shake off the sleep, making him realize that he had been drugged. Usually, he woke right up, since one of the problems with his MS was that he was unable to get into a good, deep sleep. He was also much further from the edge of the bed than usual. Normally, he slept close to the edge in order to swing his legs right off in the morning. As he started to rise, he felt a hand on the back of his neck pressing him down to the bed. A stern, female voice told him, "You were not given permission to rise." Randall sighed. "If I may ask, who am I addressing?" This surprised the trainee Domme. She was one of the most experienced trainees, almost ready to start a "business" of her own, and in her experience she had dealt with anger, fear, rage, despair, and even fake, sarcastic politeness, but there had been no trace of any of that in the man's question. He had been polite to the point of true respect. "You may address me as Mistress Amanda." Randall managed to get up into a long sitting position. "Well, Mistress Amanda, do you mind if I stretch? If I don't stretch first thing, my body's a bitch to deal with all day." Mistress Amanda nodded. As Randall leaned forward, stretching his hamstrings, she said, "You're surprisingly respectful." With his face buried between his legs, he replied, "Before he died, my dad taught me to always treat a lady like a lady, until she proved herself to be otherwise. Although I suppose having my face shoved into the mattress here might qualify as doing that. But what the hey, I'm a very forgiving person." "Just keep that attitude and I won't have to make your life hell." At this, Randall stopped and looked up at Amanda. Now Amanda had expected one of many things from him, but not what she got. A broad smile covered his face, and he started to laugh. Not a sarcastic or disbelieving laugh, but an honest, bemused laugh. The kind one gives when one has heard something truly funny. Amanda, angered, demanded, "What's so funny?" Randall grabbed the back of his legs and said, "Could you step back from the bed? I need to swing my legs off and I don't want to kick you." Without moving, Amanda said, "Tell me what's so funny." "I'll tell you, but I need to get to the edge of the bed to continue my stretching." Amanda didn't move. "Okay, but you'll be sorry." Randall collapsed back on his back. "To be honest, I find your statement that you plan on making my life hell to be highly amusing." "And why is that?" Randall sighed. "Since I got this "condition" and wound up needing to use a wheelchair more often than not, my "friends" have slowly disappeared. They "forget" appointments, they don't return phone calls, and when I do manage to catch them at home, they're usually vague and indirect about plans. "Most of my workplace training has been in the realm of physical stuff that I can no longer do, so now, I'm having to go back to school and retrain myself in a new field, right alongside kids a decade my junior. "My body seems to be stuck between two extremes, either my bowels and bladder don't want to work at all or I lose any control I might ever have had, usually in a public place. "And now, on top of everything, my older sister has decided to have me, what, professionally punished, intimidated, feminized?" "Feminized. How did you know it was your older sister?" "To tell you the truth, I didn't until just now when you admitted it." Amanda cringed inwardly. It was a stupid, amateur mistake and she had made it. "But it wasn't that hard to figure out. My few female friends are too nice to pull a stunt like this. Only my two sisters have a problem with me, and only my older sister has the contacts, moxie and cruel nature to try a stunt like this. My little sister may be nasty and overly sarcastic, but she's not cruel. "And as I was saying, with everything that's going on in my life, you have no chance of making my life hell, for the simple reason that it already is hell." Then Randall gave Amanda an impish grin that cut her to the core. Not wanting to show Randall how much he had affected her, she just said, "We'll see. Now get up." "Can't." "Are you defying me?" Amanda almost yelled. "Oh, no. At least not intentionally. You see, I felt my hips start to stiffen and straighten out. Had I gotten to the edge of the bed, I could've prevented it from happening, but that would've meant kicking you, and since you refused to move..." Randall shrugged. "So I'm going to need either you or a stooge of yours to help to get to the edge of the bed and sit up." Randall extended a hand to her. Amanda just looked at it. "And what would you do if this had happened at home?" Randall left the hand where it was. "If I were at home, one, I wouldn't have had a tall, statuesque blonde in my way as I swung my legs off the edge of the bed.Two, I wouldn't have been as far from the edge of the bed as I am here. And three, I wouldn't have slept through the last dosage of my medication due to being drugged into unconsciousness, and my hips would not have stiffened as quickly as they did. Speaking of which, did anybody think to take my medication with them when they brought me here? "You'll get your medication if you behave like a good little girl." Randall shrugged. "Your headaches." "What's that supposed to mean?" "The medication isn't for pain or anything like that. It's to remove the stiffness in my body. Anything, and I mean anything, you want me to do is going to be about five to ten times harder without it than with. And, being completely honest, I don't intend to put any more energy into fighting my body's stiffness without the meds than I would with them." "Then I will beat you." Randall closed one eye and seemed to consider it. Finally, he said, "Okay, works for me." "What?" "You beating me. That works for me." "You WANT me to beat you?" "Want, no. Expect, yes. You really don't think I plan to make this easy on you, do you? I was expecting to be beaten somewhere along the way. It is what you do after all. Now are you going to help me up, or send somebody in to help me up, because I really can't get up right now without help." Amanda growled and left the room, leaving Randall to smile that impish smile. LATER IN RANDALL'S "TRAINING"... "You want higher heels?" Amanda asked, incredulous. "Want is irrelevant. I'm simply saying you might as well give me higher heels, because the height of the heel is not a factor. There is no way I'm going to be able to manage to walk with the walker in heels of any size. One inch, four inch, six inch, whatever inch, it doesn't matter. I'm going to fall over and hurt myself. And since I am going to fall over and hurt myself, the size of the heel that causes it isn't really relevant, is it?" "Then I'll put you in the wheelchair." "Well then my feet will be completely off the ground, and, once again, the size of the heel will be irrelevant." "But higher heels will make you look more effeminate." Randall shrugged in that way that infuriated Amanda. "So?" Amanda growled and left the room, leaving Randall to smile that impish smile. EVEN LATER IN RANDALL'S TRAINING... "You want to take me to the mall?" Randall asked. "In full drag, of course." "Okay." "You don't have a problem with that, do you?" "Not in the slightest." Then Randall gave her that impish smile she hated and which let her know that he was thinking along lines she couldn't fathom. "What are you planning?" she demanded. "Planning? What makes you think I'm planning anything?" "That... smile." She almost made the mistake of saying annoying smile. But that would've let him know he was getting to her. "It always lets me know you're planning something." "I did not know that." The smile broadened, implying that he knew exactly what his smile did to her. "But since you asked so nice, I'll tell you. You take me to the mall, and once we get there, I'm gonna sit up tall in my wheelchair and start yelling and screaming at the top of my lungs about what you've been doing to me. I'm going to make such a ruckus that even if they don't believe me, they'll still arrest me for disturbing the peace." "You won't be embarrassed to be known to be a crossdresser?" Randall gave Amanda a look of confusion as if he couldn't understand what she was asking. "First off, I'm not a crossdresser, I'm a victim of enforced feminization, two totally separate things. Second, in case you weren't paying attention, I told you from the start that sometimes I pee all over myself. Hell, since I've been here, there have been times when I peed all over myself. Public embarrassment is not a factor for me. I've had to learn to deal with it. So you take me out and we become public spectacle number one." Amanda screamed and left the room, leaving Randall to smile that impish smile. EVEN FURTHER IN RANDALL'S "TRAINING"... "Hell, no!" Randall said defiantly. "You WILL suck that man's cock!" "Not even in your wildest dreams." "You will suck that man's cock or I will beat you black and blue." "I don't want to seem too offensive here, but you seem to have a short memory. So I'll just remind you with four words. Been there, done that. When you had that guy fuck me up the ass, you beat me down, and even then, you still had to strap me to that stool in order to give him free access. Let me also say this, you are going to have to break my jaw before I'll take that cock into my mouth." "Maybe I'll just do that." Randall gave her that confused look which Amanda was sure was carefully orchestrated to make her think that he thought she was stupid for asking. "How do you expect to get any suction from a man with a broken jaw?" he said as though anything but a broken jaw was not an option. Amanda loudly screeched and left the room, leaving Randall to smile that impish smile. LATER THAT DAY, IN THE HEAD DOMME'S OFFICE... "Enter." At Mistress Thompson's command, Amanda entered her office. "Ah, Amanda, how goes the Grady matter?" "Not well, ma'am. I seek your approval for hypnosis." "Are you sure? You know my opinion of hypnosis." Amanda got a dejected look on her face. "Yes, I know. A true Dominatrix resorts to hypnosis and/or drugs only as a last resort, instead relying on her skills of intimidation and psychological dominance in order to elicit compliance from the subject. But despite my effort Grady still remains resistant to commands." Amanda clearly felt that she had personally failed somehow. Mistress Thompson gave her a forgiving smile. "Don't be so hard on yourself. Randall Grady is a handicapped man who rose above an abusive family to start making a name for himself. He was bound to be a nearly impossible break." "I'd feel better if I could've just knocked that attitude out of him. Even if it had just been for a few minutes." Mistress Thompson got a concerned look on her face, which, Amanda, with her head hung low, missed. "Attitude? After 6 weeks, he's still got an attitude? What kind of attitude?" Amanda shuffled a bit in place. "I'm not sure how to describe it. It's like... he knows something. It's like no matter what I make him do, no matter what force is used against him, he's the one who's really in control." Mistress Thompson considered it. "I'll review your tapes and let you know later." As Amanda left the room, Mistress Thompson thought to herself, "This could be bad. Very, very bad." TWO DAYS LATER... "Enter." Amanda walked in to the room. The dark, heavy curtains, usually closed, were open, giving the room an uncharacteristically bright look. Mistress Thompson waved at a chair and Amanda sat down. "You sent for me, ma'am?" "Yes, Amanda. I wanted you to know that I've decided to hypnotize Randall Grady." Amanda smiled. "Yes, ma'am. I'll arrange his program right away." "No need. I've already decided on his program. He'll be made to forget this place, and then released. He'll be found near the hospital closest to his place of residence." Amanda was incredulous. "Mistress, you can't..." Mistress Thompson affixed Amanda with a stern glare. "I mean, it is, of course, your decision. But, why?" "Because you'd never have broken him." "Mistress, I assure you. Give me another chance, and I'm sure I can get compliance." Mistress Thompson shook her head in the negative. "Ma'am, please. I... It's just..." "It's just that you're obsessing on him. When you're near him, getting him to obey is everything. When you're not near him, your every thought is of him. Perhaps even to the extent that you dream of him." Amanda wanted to deny it, wanted to protest, wanted to say that no one, especially not a man could so dominate her life. But all she could say was, "How did you know?" Mistress Thompson stood and looked out the window, clasping her hands behind her back. "Amanda, there is a rare breed of male. Hell, a rare breed of human. They're always calm,... collected,... in control. They're always... serene. They always seem to know something the rest of us don't." "Mr. Grady?" Mistress Thompson nodded. "These people are damn near unbreakable. They can only be broken by resorting to not only hypnosis, but hypnosis combined with drugs and/or crippling levels of pain. And even if we were approved for that level of attack, I'd have to have a lot better reason than a man calling his abusive sister abusive to resort to it." "So no one could've broken him?" "No one I know of. And I wouldn't want to lose another student in the trying." "Lose? Ma'am, surely this failure does not mean dismissal for me?" "It is not the failure which has made you useless to me, Amanda." "Useless? I don't understand." Mistress Thompson sighed. "Randall Grady, and any like him, has a spirit with a core of steel. As Dominatrixes, we deal with the opposite end of the spectrum, people with brittle, breakable souls. So when we encounter someone like Randall Grady, we're drawn to them like moths to a flame." Mistress Thompson turned and faced Amanda. "Amanda, you must go out and resolve your feelings towards Mr. Grady. You must try to become a part of his life. Until you do, you will be useless as a Domme. Every bit of resistance on anyone's part will remind you of him, and you will punish people needlessly because you cannot truly punish him." Amanda thought for a few minutes. "Do I have a chance with him?" "Honestly, not much of one. Consciously, he will not remember you, but subconsciously he will, and he will distance himself from you in order to protect himself. He won't know why, but he will do it." "So that's it? I'm doomed to obsess over a man I cannot have for the rest of my life?" "No.Once you have resolved your feelings, either by knowing for certain that you can't have him or by becoming a part of his life, you can return to us. Amanda gave Mistress Thompson a hopeful look. "You are dismissed now." Amanda got up and started to leave, but turned and said, "Mistress, when you talk of Randall Grady, you sound like you speak from experience." "Amanda, just because I understand your plight, don't presume on a familiarity you do not have." "Yes, ma'am." As Amanda prepared to leave, she thought she saw a tear escape from the Mistress's eye. ONE WEEK LATER... Randall Grady sat in the food court of a local mall with his friend, Will, one of the few friends who had no problem associating with a handicapped person. "So, when you woke up in that hospital, you had no idea where the last six and a half weeks had gone?" "Some vague flashes, but nothing concrete." "Excuse me." Will and Randall looked up into the face of a beautiful, statuesque blonde. She looked straight at Randall and said, "Hello, my name is Amanda. I hope I'm not being too forward, but I saw you across the way and decided to take a chance." "A chance?" "Well, I think you're a really sexy guy, and I was wondering if you were available for a little bite to eat." Before Randall could say anything, Will said, "Of course, he's available." Randall affixed Will with a glare that could've withered a healthy plant. "Excuse me, miss, but I've got to talk with my friend in private." Amanda nodded and walked away from the table. After she was out of earshot, Randall angrily said, "Just what the hell do you think you're doing?" "Trying to get you a date." Before Randall could protest further, Will continued. "Look, ever since you got stuck in that chair, you've been gun shy about talking to anybody new, much less a woman. So now this absolute knockout decides to approach you and you're going to turn her down? Not while I'm around." "You don't understand. I'm not just afraid of making and losing a friend here." "So what? I mean what's the worst that can happen to you? You go out, you find out that you have nothing in common, and you part no worse off than you were when you woke up." Randall looked over at Amanda. "I wonder." Will stood up. "Don't worry so much." He then walked over, discussed something with Amanda and walked away. Amanda walked over, and said, "Your friend just said that you might need a ride home. If you're worried, I've got a big van. Plenty of space for your chair in back." Randall gave her a suspicious look, but finally asked, "How big?" "Full size van. Plenty of space." Randall considered it. "You willing to make a stop?" "Where?" "My church. I promised my reverend that I'd stop by and pick up some stuff for a charity auction." "Your friend didn't mention anything about that." "He didn't know about it. His car wasn't big enough to pick the stuff up, so I didn't bother to ask. I was going to call for a station wagon cab after I got home, but if you've got an empty van and wouldn't mind helping out..." Amanda was a little suspicious, but just said, "No problem." "Thanks, so let me buy you that bite to eat." "No, it's my treat." "Nonsense, your treat is helping out at the church. Now what would you like?" Amanda wanted to argue, she wasn't used to letting a man take the lead, but realized this might cause some problems down the road. So instead, she looked around and said, "Just some white rice and soy sauce. A girl's got to watch her figure." "Anything to drink?" "A Pepsi." Randall smiled. "A girl after my own heart. Be right back." Amanda watched as he went over to the Chinese food stand, and came back with a tray containing a serving of white rice, a large fried rice, two sodas, and a bottle of soy sauce. Amanda took her food, and poured some of the soy sauce over it. As she started eating, Randall asked something which almost made her choke, "So, what do you do for a living?" "I'm a... student." "Really? So am I. What are you studying? I'm studying computer programming." Damn. She should've seen that coming. "Uh, kind of a therapist-like job. I help people resolve hidden desires that they don't want others to know about. At least that's what I'll do when my studies are completed." Technically true if somewhat misleading. "Really? How long till your studies are done." "Well, I'm on a kind of hiatus right now. Decided to take a break from my studies." Before Randall could pursue this line any further, Amanda changed the subject. "So why're you in a wheelchair? If you don't mind me asking, that is." "Naw, I don't mind. I've got MS, Multiple Sclerosis." "Rough. Any chance of remission?" Randall shrugged. "Odds are against it, but the only predictable thing about MS is its unpredictability. I could go years without any change at all. I could wake up tomorrow and be totally paralyzed. I could wake up tomorrow and have all that I've lost restored. But if it follows the path it has, I'm looking at a steady, gradual lessening of my faculties over the next few years till I'm an unmoving vegetable." "You seem to be taking it well." "What am I gonna do? Yell, scream, rant and rave over something I have no control over?" "Most men would." "Something you should learn about me right off the bat. I'm not most men." "That's something I already knew," Amanda thought to herself. They finished the rest of the meal making small talk. Afterwards, they went to Amanda's van. From his wheelchair, Randall looked up at it. "Damn. I forget how high these things ride." "I can help you up if you want. I'm pretty sure I'm strong enough to lift you if necessary." Actually, Amanda knew she was strong enough, but she'd have a devil of a time explaining that if she admitted it. "Well, let's see. Could you get the door?" Amanda opened the door. Using the handle on the inside, Randall pulled himself to a standing position. He turned around and leaned back. "Cool. There's a handle in here." He grabbed the handle at the top inside of the door frame with both hands, and pulled himself up onto the seat. Amanda was slightly disappointed. She had wanted to try to help, but realized that she couldn't seem to avoid. One of the problems Randall had with his sister was that she would never help unless it was on her terms, trying to push her way into Randall's life by "helping" when he neither wanted nor needed it. Suddenly Randall said, "Oh, shit." Amanda then noticed it. Randall was experiencing a clonus attack, a state where the front muscles of his leg would war with the muscles in back, causing his knees to attempt to simultaneously contract and expand, making his whole leg vibrate uncontrollably until the attack was over. In and of itself not particularly bad at this juncture, but Amanda knew that when his legs underwent clonus, his hips would usually stiffen out, turning him into a board. And this, she realized would make him slide right back out onto the ground. And although fighting the clonus might wear him out enough to make him accept her help in getting back in, she thought that he'd probably resent having to accept that help. So she quickly stepped up and braced herself against his legs, preventing him from sliding out of the van. Randall's hips did indeed stiffen out, but since he was braced he only wound up laying across the two front seats of the van. After the clonus subsided, he extended his hand to Amanda, saying, "Help me up?" Amanda was reminded of that first day she had met him, back when his hips had stiffened out, but this time she gladly took his hand and helped him up to a sitting position. As she did, his knees bent as well, and he was able to swing his legs into the van. After Amanda stowed the wheelchair, they drove to the church in silence. When they got there and went in, Randall went and talked to the reverend (a very amiable fellow who Amanda couldn't help but like) while Amanda waited. After a few minutes the both of them came out loaded with boxes of clothes, stuffed animals, and various other stuff donated for charity. They loaded the van together (all three of them) and then Randall got back in, this time without assistance. They drove to the local convention center where the auction was to be held and unloaded. After they were finished, Amanda asked, "Do you want me to take you home?" Randall surprised her by saying, "Actually, I was wondering if you wanted to go see a movie. I know it's kind of a high-schoolish thing to do, but it's all I can afford on my Disability payment." Amanda smiled, but was privately ecstatic. "I'd like that. I really would." "Great. I felt guilty about taking advantage of your good will and wanted to pay you back for helping out." "Oh." And just as suddenly as Amanda's hope had been raised, it was crushed once more. They went out to see a movie. Amanda chose one of those sappy love flicks. Not really her cup of tea, but she was hoping Randall would get the hint. After the movie, when they got back to Randall's place, Amanda said, "Y'know, I don't have to be anywhere tomorrow morning." Randall sighed. "Yeah, but I do. The charity auction, remember?" "Oh, yeah." "Amanda, I'm not a total brickhead here. I know what you're really suggesting. But one of the problems with MS, at least my version, is a reduction of sexual desire. I need to know a woman, be involved with her, in order to be able to maintain a sexual relationship." Amanda was crestfallen. She had hoped she could make this a quick thing and get back to her life, but clearly this was not to be. Randall put his hand on hers. "I'm not saying it won't happen, I'm just saying it won't happen in a day or two. It may take a while. If you're willing to wait, that is." Amanda turned her hand over, lacing her fingers in his. "I'm willing to wait." ************ ONE MONTH LATER, AT THANKSGIVING DINNER... Amanda sat next to Randall as they ate. They had gone to the house of his little sister's in-laws for Thanksgiving dinner. Amanda was pleased, but their relationship was still platonic, and Amanda wondered if it would ever go any further. Randall rolled back from the table. "What's up?" she asked. "Just need to use the bathroom." "Need any help?" "You could set up my walker in the door frame." Amanda smiled and got the walker. As she walked away from the table, she noticed that Randall's older sister gave her a dirty look. Not because she knew who Amanda was, the two of them had never met, but because it was already clear that Randall had come to rely more on Amanda than he ever had on her. Amanda set up the walker just inside the door and helped Randall to his feet (the house was an almost impossible maze for a handicapped person). She closed the door after he went through and waited outside. Soon, however, she heard him growling at his body. She knocked on the door and opened it enough to see him. "Rand," the nickname he let his friends use, "are you okay?" "Yes!" he growled angrily. She stepped inside. "No, you're not. I know that growl. You're having problems getting your body to do what you want." She stepped up behind him and put her hand on his shoulder. "Rand, if you want me to leave, I will. But I... I love you," three words Amanda thought she'd never utter to anyone, but knew as soon as she said them that they were true, "and I want to help." Randall looked at her. Finally, he said, "I'm having trouble getting my dick out." Amanda smiled, reached around and into his pants, and freed his dick. And as he let his urine stream out, he did something that surprised and pleased her to no end. He leaned back, letting her support him as he stood. It was a small thing, but more than he had yet been willing to give her. After he was finished, she let her zip up his pants and help him back to his chair. When they returned to the table, his older sister was clearly irate. "I heard what went on back there." Randall shrugged. "So?" "So you'd never have let me into the bathroom with you, but you let this... this... tramp in?" Amanda was livid. She leapt to her feet, ready to leap across the table and throttle an apology from this woman, sister or no. Rand's sister started to rise, but as she did, Rand slammed the table, moving it enough to catch her in her thighs, aborting her rise. Then he did something that surprised them all. He yelled. "I have had ENOUGH!" His sister attempted a stilted protest, but Rand cut her off. "No! No arguments! You want to know what the difference between you and her is? Why I let her help, but not you? It's because, ultimately, the choice was mine. If I'd have said no to her in the bathroom, she wouldn't have intruded. She wouldn't have been happy with the decision, but she wouldn't have intruded. You? If you'd've had the nerve to come into the bathroom with me, I'd've had to fight you off. You'd've gone for my pants no matter what I said or did. With her, helping is helping me. With you, helping is a way to prove how much YOU care. And that is why I want to leave with her, and why I never want to see you again." Rand turned to Amanda. "Do you mind us going? Now, I mean?" Amanda was somewhat stunned, but said, "Sure, no problem." Rand pulled away from the table and up to the exit. "You want to wait for your brother-in-law?" Rand's brother-in-law had been the one carrying him up and down the steps. "No. Just get my coat. You can carry me down." Amanda kissed Rand on the cheek, got his coat, helped him into it, then lifted him out of the chair and carried him down the steps to her van. She stood him up and steadied him against the car while she got out the keys. She helped him into the van, went around and started it, then went back upstairs to get the chair. His two sisters were arguing over it. His little sister was saying, "You can't hide his chair! He needs that to get around!" "I don't care! He needs to be punished for the way he's been treating me!" Amanda just snorted. When the two girls looked up at her, she said, "So you going to let me have the chair or you going to make me take it?" Rand's older sister stood between Amanda and the chair. "You wouldn't dare!" Amanda just looked at the floor and repeatedly curled one finger in a "come here" gesture. When the sister came within whispering distance, Amanda turned so no one could see her lips and whispered, "First off, if I had to take everybody in this house down in order to get to that chair, I not only could, but would. Second, I really don't think anyone but you is going to stand in my way, and you're nothing more than a blip in my way. Third, if your brother hadn't intervened earlier, you'd be nothing more than a smear on the wall right now, so you really don't want to piss me off any further. And fourth, I happen to have some very good contacts in the underworld, and know that a little more than three months ago you paid a woman to have your brother beaten and humiliated. So unless you want your family finding out just what kind of an abusive bitch you are, you will get out of my way, and let me have that chair." Rand's sister was shocked. "You... They wouldn't believe you. It's your word against mine." "True. But I don't think your family's as blind to your abuses as you think they are. And even if they are, we both know your brother would find the story utterly believable." Not waiting for an answer, Amanda blew past the shocked sister and got Rand's chair and walker and carried them to the van. After packing it in the van, she got in. "Any problems?" Rand asked. "Well, your sister and I had a few words, but nothing big." "Did you hurt her?" Amanda gave a little half-laugh, half-snort. "You're really getting to know me too well. No, I didn't hurt her. I was seriously tempted, but I left her alone." "Thanks." They drove back to Rand's apartment. When Amanda pulled the parking brake, Rand put his hand on hers. "You don't have to leave tonight." Amanda stared at him in shocked silence. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?" Rand reached around with his right hand and took her by the back of her neck and pulled her close, kissing her tenderly, but deeply. When they broke, Amanda stared at him briefly, ran and got the wheelchair, then rushed him into his apartment, almost forgetting to lock the van behind her. When they got into the apartment, Rand has to stop her from rushing, even though he felt the same way. Rand pulled off his coat and threw it to the floor as Amanda did the same. Rand pulled her down onto his lap and wheeled her to the bedroom. Amanda stood and waited as Rand used the walker to stand. "Would you get my pants?" Amanda reached across the walker and unsnapped his pants. As she did so, Rand leaned forward and kissed lightly at her earlobe, eliciting a surprised giggle from Amanda (she hadn't realized she was ticklish right there). After his pants had fallen to the floor, and Amanda had pulled down his underwear, Rand turned and sat on the bed. Amanda bent down and helped him out of his pants, as Rand started to unbutton her blouse. Amanda got up and sat beside him on the bed as he pulled her blouse out of her skirt. They kissed, this time deeply and passionately. Amanda grabbed the edge of his shirt and pulled it from his body as she stood in front of him. Rand unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the floor. He then took her half-slip and pulled it down her legs, leaving her standing there in her panties and bra. He looked up at her and smiled that impish smile which had once so infuriated her, but now intrigued her. "What is it?" Rand traced his finger up the front of her panties. "You're wet." Amanda laughed a brief laugh. "I've been wet since you kissed me earlier. Oh, Rand, I've wanted you for such a long time." In reply, Rand simply leaned forward and kissed her clit through the panties, eliciting a moan of desire. He slid his finger under the panties and slowly pulled them down her legs. He then took her by the hips and slowly lowered her onto the bed beside him. He leaned forward and kissed her as he unsnapped her bra. As soon as she was naked, Amanda wrapped her arms around him, and they pressed together madly. They pulled away and looked deep into each other's eyes. That was when Amanda knew. Just as she had never planned on saying "I love you", she had also never planned on staying with Rand. She had planned on resolving her feelings and then leaving him behind. But now she knew that that would never happen. She knew that she loved him. She knew that she had to be a part of his life. And from the look in his eyes, she knew that she had only to accept his unspoken offer and they'd be together forever. That scared her a bit but it was a chance she readily accepted. Rand smiled, leaned forward and kissed his way down the nape of her neck, down her bust, finally landing a kiss on her nipple. He sucked on it like a baby until it was stiff and pointy. He then kissed his way over to the other nipple, and repeated the process until they were a matched set. He then pulled her close, nuzzling his nose into her ear. After a few seconds, through labored breath he whispered, "You're going to have to take the top position." Amanda only nodded as he slid to the side, pulling her on top of him. She reached down, took his dick in hand and stroked him till he was as hard as a rock. Then, straddling his hips, she lowered herself onto him. She sat there for a minute as Rand's hands wandered her body, stroking her hips, abdomen, arms, and finally tits. She leaned forward into his hands and started rocking up and down on top of him.It started slowly but soon built to a crashing crescendo of orgasmic fury. Rand sprayed deeply inside of her as she came like gangbusters on top of him. She collapsed on top of him, laying there in the afterglow as he stroked her back lovingly. After a few minutes, she looked into his eyes. "When can you do that again?" Rand looked at her in amazement. "Right now. I'm still hard." "You sound amazed." "I am. I haven't been able to maintain an erection after a single orgasm for years." He leaned forward and kissed her savagely. "I guess you're just good for me." Amanda found herself blushing like a schoolgirl and returned the kiss with equal ferocity. After the kiss, he looked deep into her eyes. "I love you," he said. They made love twice more that night before falling asleep together. TWO WEEKS LATER... Amanda rushed about doing her Christmas shopping. She had returned to the Dominatrix school, but Mistress Thompson had refused to let her back in. At first, Amanda had thought it was because she had decided to set up a long-term relationship with Randall, but it seems that was only the cause of the reason, not the reason itself. Mistress Thompson had told her that if she was going to maintain a relationship with Randall, she was going to have to tell him what she did. She didn't have to go into specifics about what she had tried to do to him, but she did have to inform him that she was planning on becoming a full-time Dominatrix. Because if she didn't, she'd live in constant fear of him discovering, and that would impair her ability to function in her chosen role. Rand had not been exaggerating when he had said that she was good for him. Over the last two weeks, his MS had gone into partial remission. He still needed the wheelchair for long distances, but his distance with the walker had almost tripled, and if he only had to go short distances and had stuff to lean on, he could actually get away with using only a cane, something he hadn't been able to manage for years. They were planning on moving him into her place (unlike Rand, Amanda was descended from wealth and was not on a limited budget like he was) shortly after the new year. The one place where things were not going great was sex. The sex they had was good, but nowhere near as passionate and intense as that first night had been. And Amanda, unfortunately, knew what was causing it. She was afraid. Afraid of Randall finding out what she had done, what she was, and resultantly, afraid of him leaving her. As a result, as much as she tried not to, she was holding back. She felt that she had cause. Rand had broken it off with his sister. After Thanksgiving, he had refused phone calls, refused to contact her, even changed his number so that she couldn't call him. Amanda had even heard, from the scuttlebutt around the apartment, that Rand had called the police on his sister when she had come over, banging on the door and demanding that he open it, and refusing to leave until he did. She drove home, left her Christmas packages there, and went over to Rand's apartment. When she arrived, she used her key and walked right in. Rand came out of the bathroom, using his cane and leaning heavily on the wall. She walked over to him, put her arms around him, and kissed him. "You promised me you'd go easy with walking with the cane." "Easy, but not stop altogether. I've got to press myself, hun." She looked at him, the concern evident in her eyes. "I know. I just don't want you to fall and hurt yourself." "Don't worry. I've already changed my will." He had intended it as a joke, but Amanda was not amused. "That's not funny." Rand smiled. "Sorry. Help me to the couch?" "Gladly." Amanda helped him to the couch, gently lowering him to a sitting position, then sitting beside him. They kissed. Amanda then noticed a paper bag behind the couch. She grabbed it and pulled it onto her lap. "What's this? My Christmas present?" Rand grabbed the bag and put it back. "It's a present, but not for Christmas. It's for later tonight." "What is it?" "You'll find out after dinner." "Oh, all right. What's for dinner?" "Hamburgers." "That's not fair." "What?" "You know I can't resist those burgers you cook. And despite the lean meat, they can't be good for my figure." Rand smiled. One of the things Rand didn't do was fall for all the hoopla over "scientific discoveries" about food. He believed that as long as you a food in moderation and as part of a balanced diet, you could eat just about anything you wanted. "Bulk up on salad. I promise to only cook one each." They ate dinner together, then went to the bedroom, Rand getting the bag of whatever it was, and bringing it with him. They sat together on the bed, kissing and fondling each other, until curiosity got the better of Amanda. "Alright, what's in the bag?" Rand just smiled. "Get undressed. I'll show you when you're naked." Amanda gave him a suspicious look, but got up and did a slow striptease for him. When she was naked, she said, "Your turn. Let me see you naked." Rand got undressed. When he was naked, Amanda sat beside him and they kissed. After another couple minutes, Amanda asked, "Okay, now what's in the bag?" "A little something to spice up our love life." Rand reached into the bag and pulled out, of all things, a pair of handcuffs. Amanda was confused. Was he asking her to tie him up? Mistress Thompson had told her to avoid doing anything like that. Exposure to that kind of stimulus could cut through the hypnosis and return all his experiences to conscious remembrance. "I don't know." "What's the matter? Afraid to let me tie you up? Surely, you can't be worried that I'd hurt you." Rand wanted to tie her up? Technically, Mistress Thompson hadn't forbidden it, but how close was it to tying him up? Would it possibly wreck the hypnosis? "I'm still not sure." "For me?" Oh, that did it. Amanda really couldn't deny him anything. And one of the things that made her love him all the more was that he never took advantage of it. Well, at least not too much. She allowed him to secure her arms and legs to the bedposts. When she was securely fastened, he sat beside her and asked, "Got any suggestions for what comes next?" "You're the one running this show." "Well, I just figured that a professional Dominatrix might have some ideas." Amanda was shocked. "I... I don't... What are you talking about?" "You remember Reverend Harris?" Amanda nodded. "Well, Reverend Harris is not only my reverend, my confidante, and my friend, he's also a psychic. So when six weeks suddenly disappeared out of my life, I went to see him to find out if he could help. "Imagine his surprise when he discovered a drug-enforced hypnotic block. And a well-done one at that. Took him a full three hours to disassemble the damnable thing." "So you knew all along?" Rand nodded. Amanda took the attitude she used when acting as a Dominatrix. "So this is your way of punishing me?" Rand shook his head. "If I had wanted to punish you, I'd have called the police long ago." "Then what is this?" "Y'know, I asked myself that same question when you approached me in the mall. I figured you were there to try something. To attempt to break me in a less overt way. That was the main reason why I asked you to drive me to the church that day, to get the rev to scan you. He won't scan any deeper than surface emotions on someone who doesn't know about it, but at least it helps. Imagine both the reverend's and my surprise when all he discovered was desire. No animosity or hatred or any need for revenge, just desire." "You still haven't explained about these." Amanda pulled on her restraints. "I'm getting to that. The problem was desire for what. I was very suspicious of you, and it took me a while to realize that you wanted me. And that Thanksgiving night when we made love was the best thing that ever happened to me. But afterwards, to be honest, you got a lot worse in the sex department. Your love for me was as plainly evident as ever, so it wasn't that you had lost interest after having sex. It was something else. So I went to the rev and asked him if he could help. He told me that it was probably guilt over what you had done to me." Amanda sighed. "Okay, it's true, but what's that got to do with these?" "Well, I figured that if I'd have confronted you without them, you either would've run off or gotten nasty. And it wouldn't have allowed me to take your face in my hands," Rand took her face in his hands, "and tell you, I forgive you, and I want you to forgive yourself. For both our sakes." Amanda looked deep into his eyes. There was no hint of duplicity, no hint of selfish desire, no hint of anything other than concern for her, no hint of anything other than love. She saw Rand's unbridled love, and all the unnecessary worrying and pain she had put herself through bubbled to the surface, and she did the only thing possible. She cried. Not tears of joy or pain, but tears of release. Somewhere along the way, she was freed, and when she gathered her composure, she found herself sitting up in bed, her arms wrapped around him. They looked at each other, and Rand leaned forward, kissing the last of the tears out of her eyes. Afterwards, they sat there for a time, neither could have said exactly how long, looking at each other with what could only be described as sappy smiles, finally leaning forward and kissing each other gently. Their hands slowly roamed over each other. Rand slowly pulled Amanda down on top of him. She straddled and slowly lowered herself onto him. They made love that night, not just sex, but real love. It wasn't as passionate as their first night together, but it was deeper, more lasting, and somehow, much more satisfying. After they finished, they lay together side by side. Amanda was the first to speak."Rand, how do you feel about my chosen profession? How would you really feel if I became a full-fledged Dominatrix?" Rand's face scrunched up a bit. Clearly, he was thinking about it, and the thought did not leave a good taste in his mouth. "Is it really what you want?" "Yes. I don't know why, but I've always desired control. To take those who do not have the strength and mold them." Rand's face clearly showed his doubt. Finally, he decided something. "Make me a promise." "What?" "Promise me that you will never again take on an unwilling victim. Promise that you will never try to do to another what you tried to do to me." Rand expected an argument, but all Amanda said was, "Okay," and cuddled herself into Rand's arm. "Okay? That's it? No argument?" Amanda made an amused sound. "Honey, I hate to tell you this, but sex stories and your own personal experience aside, most people who go to Dommes are not unwilling victims. Most are frustrated husbands who want a little something exotic, or stressed businessmen who want somebody else to take over for a while." Rand considered it for a few seconds, then said, "Alright then, I've got one more question for you." "Go ahead." "Will you marry me?" Amanda looked up, surprised. At first, she thought he was kidding, but saw in his eyes that he was serious. She didn't know what to say, finally settling on, "Yes," as she returned to cuddling in his arm. Rand smiled and kissed her on top of the head as they fell asleep in each other's arms. TEN YEARS LATER... Amanda bent over and caught her three-year-old daughter, Julie, as she ran through the kitchen, naked as a jaybird. Rand appeared in the doorway, out of breath from chasing their daughter. Shortly after their marriage, his MS had gone into complete remission, and he was now as capable as he had been before its onset. "There you are," he said, carrying Julie's panties. "Time to get dressed." "Julie win," said the three-year-old. It was a game she had invented that they had played ever since Julie had gotten out of her crib. She'd wake up before him, and as soon as he opened the door, she'd slip past him, and he'd have to chase her around the house to get her to put her clothes on. If he caught her, he won. If her mom caught her or he admitted defeat, then she won. "Yes, Julie win," Rand admitted. He kissed Amanda as he took Julie from her. He set Julie on the counter so that he could put her panties on. Their eight-year-old son, Richard, came into the room. "Mom?" Amanda went back to preparing his lunch. "Yes, Rickie?" "We've got a bake sale at school, and I kinda promised to bring a batch of your famous chocolate chip cookies." "Okay, when is it?" "Tomorrow." Rand sent Julie upstairs to get a dress. Amanda stopped. "And how long have you known about this bake sale?" "About a week." Amanda gave Rickie a disapproving look. "Rickie, you have got to learn to give me more time. I have three clients coming today, and I'm not sure I can find the time. Can't you make do with store-bought?" "Aw, mom, store-bought is never as good as your cookies." Rand walked behind their son. "Come on, honey. Would you really disappoint your son?" Rand leaned down and whispered in his son's ear, just loud enough to be heard by Amanda, "Big pouty face," and both of them stuck out their bottom lips in a big pout. Amanda gave them a disapproving look. Well, it would've been disapproving if she had been able to keep herself from smiling through it. "You know I hate it when you two double-team me. Alright, I'll do it." "Thanks, mom," Rickie said as he ran from the room to finish getting ready for school. Rand walked behind the counter, wrapped his arms around his wife, kissed her, and said, "Why don't you just dress up one of your clients in a maid's uniform and have him make up the cookies?" "Hun, I don't tell you how to program computers, don't tell me how to do my job." She kissed him back. "Besides, I don't have any crossdressers coming today. Otherwise, that'd work." Suddenly from the other room, an excited Julie screamed, "Got your hat!" Rickie yelled, "Give me that back, twerp!" Amanda sighed. "Y'know, when I gave birth to Rickie after a year and a half of being a Pro Domme, I thought running a household would be an easy thing to do." "Silly you. Ever think of giving it up?" "Not in a million years." Julie ran through the room with her brother's favorite cap held high above her head, and her brother in hot pursuit. Amanda and Rand looked at each other and sighed, then took off after their daughter.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/13587.txt

JR Parz

Janene's Wishes

"So, you say you're granting me three wishes, huh?" asked the young sales girl with a disbelieving smile. Derek had spotted the girl a few moments ago. He scanned her mind and saw she was only sixteen years old. The girl was very pretty and very sure of herself. She wore her blond hair long, and her blue eyes sparkled when the light reflected off of them. A further scan told him she was used to getting what she wanted, when she wanted. She was well aware of the effect her beauty had on people, and she played it to her advantage all the time. It was these types of girls that always sparked Derek's interest. It wasn't that he had a problem with girls like this. In fact, he thought more power to them. It's just that he thought he should see if there was a way he could even out the playing field to some degree. Derek scanned the rest of the store to find she was one of five employees there. Customer-wise, it was slow. Before Derek approached her, he quickly altered his appearance. He stole into her mind to find the type of boy that she would find attractive, and assumed his appearance. He did this so as not to alarm her. He walked up to her and smiled. This was enough just to get the conversation going. Of course, after a few exchanges, he started on the topic of wish granting. "Three wishes... anything you want." Janene smiled at the boy. She'd heard her share of lines, but this, she had to admit, was original. Something about him was real cute, and she found herself responding to him. "Well, are there any stipulations or rules that govern these wishes? Everything I've ever read makes reference to things you can't wish for... Is this the case with your wishes?" "No, most definitely not... you can wish for anything you want. I'm not a genie. Maybe they have those types of rules, but I don't. You can wish for wealth, happiness, a new sports car, a new body, a lover... anything." Janene blushed at the word 'lover'. The boy added, "I'll tell you what I'll do for you. I'll give you a free sample. This way you can waste one and still have your three left." Janene was surprised she turned red at the word 'lover'. Sure, she found the boy attractive, but she still couldn't understand why a mere word made her blush. Janene was also surprised he continued this wish-granting monologue. Janene's attention was then drawn to a customer coming in just then. She looked like she was in college. Janene could see the girl was very pretty and sported a set of huge breasts which pushed provocatively against her tight sweatshirt. Janene always wondered how much sexier she'd look if she were bigger than her average size "B" cup. Janene smiled and figured that she would end this game real quick, plus make the boy turn red himself in the process. This would be his opportunity to put up or shut up. "Okay, you see that girl over there?" Derek continued monitoring Janene's mind and could see what she was going to wish. He also could see the girl Janene indicated, clearly inside his mind. But he turned for Janene's benefit and nodded 'yes'. Janene then wished, "I wish that I possessed a pair of tits as equally as big and beautiful as the girl I'm looking at." Instead of making the boy blush, Janene found herself blushing. That went well. At least she was putting a stop to this charade. "Done," replied Derek with a smile. "Just like that! How do I know...WHAT!" Janene screamed as she felt her tits all of a sudden start to expand. Quickly they filled and strained against her bra. Janene's eyes were as wide as could be as her hands tried to contain each growing breast! "My...my...tits...what did you do!?!" "You wished for big beautiful tits like the girl over there, and that is what I'm giving you," replied Derek. Janene quickly realized that her bra was making this transformation painful, and she ducked down underneath the counter. Janene was thankful that her snaps were in front, and she quickly unbuttoned her shirt and unsnapped her bra. Janene's new boobs sprung free while still continuing to grow! They didn't stop until they looked as big as beach balls! Janene had to take her shirt off for a second to completely get out of her bra, and then when she buttoned back up, her shirt looked ridiculous on her. Janene stood back up and saw the boy still standing there. "I...I...can't believe this! I need some clothes! Hurry, get me something to cover...these...these...oh my god!" "Do you wish for clothes?" "Yes...Yes...I wish that I was wearing clothes that would fit my new figure!" Janene felt a flow of air circle around her, and then quite instantly, her shirt disappeared and was replaced with a tight-fitting sweatshirt... strangely, while this happened, she heard a shriek at the back of the store. Janene peeked inside the top of her sweatshirt and noticed she was now wearing a bra that fit. The shriek turned into a scream, and when she looked up to see what the commotion was, the pretty college-aged girl she saw earlier was stark naked from the waist up, and holding her big boobs as she ran out of the store! "Ho...How...is this possible?" "Well, Janene, you have two wishes left. I suggest you use them wisely." Janene looked back at the boy in confusion. Everything was happening so fast. She still couldn't get over the size of her new tits and wondered if she was dreaming the whole thing. Janene brought her hands up to them again and pushed them up from underneath. They were huge! Could she ever get used to tits this big? Then she thought, why not wish for them to feel good to her rather than alien globs of flesh like they felt like now. "Okay...I...I'm...ah...ummm...okay...I wish that my boobs felt natural and real good to me. Instead of feeling strange on me, I loved the feel of them." Derek again smiled, and again responded, "Done." Janene felt a strange sensation flood each tit, centering on her nipples. In her movement, her nipples rubbed against her bra, and she felt the feelings shoot straight to her groin...God! The feeling was so intense! Janene all of a sudden felt hornier than she had ever been in her life, and the feelings all generated from her beautiful huge tits! Janene looked at the boy with a sexy smile. Then she grabbed his hand and ran to the store's restroom. She quickly closed the door behind them and locked it. Janene was feeling hornier and hornier by the second and tore off her sweatshirt. She unsnapped her new sized 38DD bra and began massaging her tits passionately. She took Derek's hands and placed them where hers were and couldn't get enough of the feelings that flooded her body. Janene cried out when Derek pinched her nipples and found herself quickly pulling down her jeans and panties. "Mmmmm...I...I...need you soooooooo baaaaaaaaddd." Janene kneeled down to unzip Derek's zipper, pulling free a rather large-looking dick. Janene, who had never seen a dick up close before, couldn't believe the size of it! 'This was going to fit inside of me?' she wondered in amazement. Janene pleaded with Derek, "Pleeeeeeeeaaassssseee I neeeed you inside of meeeeee!" Janene had Derek sit down on the commode seat while she lowered herself on top of his rod. She easily slid right on given how wet she was. As Janene felt her entire vagina walls wrap themselves around his penetration, she screamed out her passion. "Yeeeeesssssssssss!" "Yeeeeesssssssssss!" "Yeeeeesssssssssss!" "Yeeeeesssssssssss!" "Yeeeeesssssssssss!" Janene screamed out with every hump until finally climaxing to a powerful orgasm! "AAAAAhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Mmmmmmmmmmmm." Janene's breathing finally calmed down after several minutes of recovery. The thought that she just lost her virginity should have alarmed her, but she only smiled. Has she lost her mind?She still sat on Derek's member, as it slowly softened inside of her. They had just had sex, and she felt so wonderful. She brought her hands up to her huge breasts, basking in the pleasurable feeling they gave her. She simply loved her new breasts. She slowly lifted herself up off Derek's penis and felt his come dripping out of her soaked vagina. In addition to her own come, and Derek's come, there was a small sprinkling of Janene's blood. Janene looked down at Derek in a daze. Having lost all her inhibitions around him, Janene snuck a finger down to her vagina and buried it deep inside of herself. Her finger easily slipped inside of her very wet slit. Janene used her other hand to massage her huge breasts while her love finger was followed by another, and then another. With three fingers buried deep inside of herself, Janene screamed out another orgasm. When Janene opened her eyes, she had a dreamy, sated look. Derek was no longer with her, and she figured that he was waiting for her outside. Janene quickly cleaned herself up and put all her clothes back on. Her nipples again brushed against her bra's material, and she found that she had to take it back off. 'No more bra with sensitive nipples like these,' she thought to herself. Janene threw the bra away in the trash and went back out to the front of the store. Her cries of passion must have been loud because everyone seemed to be looking at her. "Well, I trust you feel better," stated Derek with a smirk. "Oh yes... much... much better. Thank you (blushing). I just love my new boobies. I love the way they feel," she said with lust-filled eyes. "Alright Janene... you have one more wish... what will it be?" Janene was daydreaming while Derek spoke. Her nipples were now starting to rub up against her sweatshirt, and the fact that her huge breasts were swaying freely without support, she was getting horny all over again. 'If only she didn't have to work right now,' she thought to herself. Her mind continued to reflect, 'If she didn't have to work right now, she'd be home playing with her big boobies this very moment.' THEN IT HIT HER! Why work? In fact, why work ever? Janene looked at Derek with a grin: "I... I wish that I never had to work ever again and was totally independent from any responsibility or decision-making whatsoever." Derek again smiled and replied, "Done." EPILOGUE Janene smiled at the pretty lady and giggled. "Oh, hi Derek... and who do we have here?" Lady Ashley asked while admiring the lovely girl. "This is Janene... isn't she precious?" replied Derek, both Lady Ashley and Derek gazed at Janene. Janene beamed with joy... she was so, so happy. This pretty lady was going to take care of her. Nothing mattered to Janene anymore. This lady was so, so pretty and so, so very nice to her. She would take care of her. Janene loved to be taken care of. "Janene, go over by the mirror and strip out of all your clothes... you won't be needing them anymore... while you're over there, you may gaze at yourself and play with yourself. Continue this until I tell you otherwise." Janene giggled and quickly did as she was told. It made her feel so, so good when she did what she was told. Janene quickly stripped off all her clothes and looked at herself in the mirror and smiled... while bringing her hands up to cup her breasts, she took it one step further by pinching her nipples. A pleasurable arousal shot throughout her body. Janene smiled again, gazing at her huge boobies. Janene giggled and then just stared as her right hand cupped her mound. When she once again fingered herself, Janene couldn't help a moan escape her lips. Lady Ashley and Derek watched the scene together. Neither could deny that their own bodies didn't react to the erotic scene playing out before them. Lady Ashley commented on Janene's youth. "Yes, she is young... only sixteen years old." "What did she wish for?" Lady Ashley asked, still watching Janene finger herself. "Big boobs, erotically sensitive nipples, never to work again, and never having any responsibilities," replied Derek. "Wow... she was really into it, wasn't she?" "Yes... she certainly was. I even added a little something extra." "Oh, don't tell me," Lady Ashley smiled, and then added, "you made her a bimbo." "How could you tell?" Derek asked in surprise. "Beautiful, long blonde hair and stacked quite nicely on top. The classic bimbo if I ever saw one... what exactly did you do to her mind, other than making her one hundred percent submissive as my other girls?" Lady Ashley asked with a smile. "I've reduced her attention span to three seconds. I've not only rendered her totally submissive, but gave her a dose of pleasure when she obeys. Her giggling is for added effect. I also let her remember her past life, but instead of feeling trapped inside that pretty empty head she's in, she feels pleasure in the fact that she no longer has to make another decision for the rest of her life. And, of course, your prerequisite... she now responds to girls," stated Derek. Derek and Lady Ashley said their goodbyes, and Lady Ashley escorted her new pet up the stairs to one of the bedrooms. Janene entered a huge room with a big round bed in the middle of it. Janene's eyes lit up with joy upon seeing other girls on the bed. They were all naked like her and just as equally pretty! Janene felt herself responding to them and giggled as the feelings licked at her. Janene was feeling horny again... real horny. "You may join them, Janene." Janene smiled at the pretty lady and climbed on top of the bed and right in-between the legs of a pretty redhead. Janene smelled her sweet sex with pleasure, basking in the aroma, and then tasted her juicy snatch which pleasured her taste buds. Janene then buried her whole face inside the pretty redhead's crotch and proceeded to make love to it with her tongue. Lady Ashley smiled as she watched Janene. She had added so much to her stable of beauties. Janene lapped at Rhea's vagina like a professional lesbian. Lady Ashley continued to watch as she slowly stripped out of her own gown. Just like magic, the girls moved over to make room for their Mistress. Lady Ashley didn't hesitate in repositioning Janene's lower half within licking distance. Lady Ashley could smell the young beauty, and her own arousal was making her impatient for the young lass. Janene came the second Lady Ashley's tongue stabbed her clitoris. Janene not only gushed with come, but she gushed with happiness... Janene was so, so happy... and so, so horny. The End.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/13656.txt

deirdre

Idea

"You heard about Nancy Jenson, didn't you?" I was out raking our front yard and our neighbor Diane was talking to me. I hadn't known she was acquainted with Nancy Jenson and briefly wondered whether she was talking about the one that I knew. "You know Nancy?" I finally asked. "Yes. You heard that she and her husband are separating, didn't you?" returned Diane. "Laura told me." Laura's my wife. "What do you think of Nancy?" That was a leading question. Nancy was damn attractive. I had the impression that she was a few years older than Laura and me--we were in our early forties--but she certainly didn't look it! If you'd told me she was thirty, I would have believed you if I hadn't known how old her kids were and heard a couple of other things about how long she'd been in her present job. "Do you think she's attractive?" Diane continued, apparently tired of waiting for me to answer. "Sure, she's very attractive." "Would you enjoy it with her?" "Enjoy what?" "Don't play dumb with me!" Diane smiled and I started wondering what she was up to. "*Doing* it." I guess I didn't talk to Diane *that* much, but I'd never gotten the idea she would ever be so forward. "I *said* she's attractive." "So you would? Like to do it with her?" "Gee Diane, I've never seen this side of you. Since I'm married, the point is moot." "That's what Laura said." "You asked Laura?" "Yes." "If I'd like to have sex with Nancy Jenson?" I continued weakly. "No! I asked her if *she'd* like to." I stared. Diane asking Laura that! I found it intriguing, but also futile: Laura wasn't into *that*. "And she was just like you: no, because she's married." I doubted that was the only reason. But it kept preying on my mind. I guess she'd read me right: yes I could be tempted into sex with Nancy Jenson if I hadn't had Laura. Well, I was a man, so that was an easy conclusion. But had Diane read Laura right? Did Laura really express any interest in sex with Nancy Jenson? "What's eating you?" Laura knew me. "Diane told me something that got me thinking." "About what?" "She was talking to me about Nancy Jenson." Laura giggled a second. A nervous laugh? She sounded a little nervous to me. "She wanted to know if I wanted to have sex with Nancy." Laura stood there staring at me with her mouth open. "I told her *no* of course," I added because I thought I might have frightened her or something. "You did?" she responded, weakly. She looked much more nervous than before. "Then she told me she'd already asked you." That got me a little laugh that was definitely nervous. "She seemed to think you might have said yes if you weren't married." "That's silly!" "She didn't think so. *Are* you attracted to Nancy?" "Honey, this is stupid. I don't know what's gotten into Diane. Let's just drop it." I thought for a minute. She was evading me. I smiled, but I tried to make it a smile she could trust. "You're avoiding giving me an answer." She just sat there silently. Avoiding my eyes. I took her by the shoulders and kissed her. "I'm glad you told Diane that it's me you love," I said to her quietly. "You don't think I'm awful? You probably *get off* on the idea anyway." She smiled but it looked forced. "What's gotten into Diane anyway?" I said, trying to turn the spotlight off Laura, who was obviously uncomfortable. "She told me Nancy was frustrated--she and Jeff hadn't been, you know, for a long time." "Why is Diane asking *us*?" "I don't know." That same evening, Diane was over to drop something off. *She* was the one who brought it up again. "Have plenty of time to discuss my propositions?" she asked, grinning. "Are you trying to embarrass us?" I responded. "Just trying to do Nancy a favor." "Why Laura? Is Nancy interested in women?" I'd said it. "She seemed to be interested in *me*." Laura hadn't said a thing and just stared. "But why us? Is she interested in us too?" "No. Well, I don't really know, but I think I could get her to do it." It was my turn to stare, at least for a second. I thought about that answer. Why would Diane be interested in getting Nancy to do that? And why would Nancy let Diane direct her like that? "Are *you* interested in Nancy? In that way?" "No, not really. That's why I asked you two." "Well, what makes you think you could get her to do that. With us." "She just seems to, well, take my lead. I was kissing her once--no, it was just an innocent hello kiss--and something made me pause a second as I was drawing away as if I might kiss her again. She stopped drawing away herself and her lips pursed--she would have kissed me again if I'd tried." "You were testing her?" I asked. "Well, I guess I was," she smiled. "I just had a feeling. And once, we were going to see a movie and had to find our way in the dark since the feature was starting when we got there. The way she held my arm and let me lead her made me think." "And you aren't interested in her that way?" "Not really." "Why us?" "Well, I knew you know her." "So you want us to have sex with her?" "Sure! Well, only if you're willing." "Together? The three of us?" "Well, I could bring her. I'd... watch." "You'd stay and watch us?" I glanced at Laura. She still looked like she was in shock. She hadn't said a word, but was drinking this all in and something made me wonder if she were angry. Diane didn't answer either but stood there looking embarrassed. But it intrigued me: as you might imagine, we seldom had Diane on the defensive, and I just couldn't restrain myself from going on. "Are you sure you're not interested in Nancy?" "Well, not really..." "Are you interested in *us*?" She didn't answer. "Why did you want to watch?" "I'd better go," she said in a weak voice and started heading for the front door. I actually headed her off, standing in her way. "Diane!" It was Laura, speaking up at last. "Are you interested in my husband?" I looked at Laura. There was something in her face... Diane definitely looked nervous. "I didn't *say that*." "Bring her," said Laura--to Diane. It was my turn to stare openmouthed. And Diane's: she stood there staring. "Bring her: take her to a bar and drink a few drinks with her, then bring her here."OK," came Diane's voice, barely above a whisper. "You do like my husband, don't you?" she asked again. Diane didn't answer, then after we'd stared at her for a minute, she mumbled something. "You're going to kneel in front of him, with his cock pushed to your throat. Naked. You'll love that, won't you?" "Um, I guess." "Nancy and I'll watch. Kneel now!" Diane, who had been standing in front of me, got on her knees, her head level with my cock. "Look at it," Laura went on. Diane just looked at my zipper. "My husband will *love* to find out what it feels like in your rear. And bring a leather belt."

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/13370.txt

HotScribe

How May I Pleasure You?

"How may I pleasure you?" you ask. "I don't know," I reply. "That might take a bit of thought." "Well, tonight is your night to be pleasured--to do what you will with me." I think for a few moments before I finally respond. "All right. Stand over there, in front of me." I motion for you to go to the middle of the floor. You do so. "Strip for me," I say. "Slowly." Soft music is already playing. In time to the slow beat, you sway back and forth, turn and begin to undo the buttons of your blouse. They come open one at a time until the two halves fall apart. As you start to remove it, I tell you to leave it on--for now. You continue to gyrate before me, unzip your jeans and push them slowly to the floor. You step out of them. You slip out of your panties. Your pubic hair beckons from the shadows of your inner thighs, your breasts peek from the folds of your blouse. "Now take off your shirt." You pull the shirt from your shoulders, let it slip from your arms to join your other clothes on the floor. "Turn around." You turn your back to me. I gaze down the nice curve of your spine to the fleshy mounds of your buttocks to the sweep of your thighs and legs. "Bend over, pull your bum cheeks apart." You do so, and I look on the glistening slit of pinkish-purple that unfolds before my eyes. "Finger yourself." I watch as your hand moves to your cunt and you begin to rub your clitoris, then you slide your fingers into the depths of your cunt. I stand and remove my own clothes. Still watching you as you massage your clit, I grab my cock and begin to rub the shaft back and forth. "Get down on your back, open your legs wide and continue to finger yourself. Make yourself cum slowly." You lie on the carpet, part your legs as wide as you can and your fingers massage your clit and disappear into and reappear from the deep dark wet recesses of your sex. You moan as you watch me stroke my cock back and forth. "Don't stop," I tell you as I move the skin of my cock up and down along the shaft as I move forward to position myself astride your head. I bend down so that my cock and my balls dangle before your face. "Lick and suck my balls." Your tongue reaches out and you lick around my sack, then you suck my balls, first taking one into your mouth and rolling it around, then the other. The warmth of your mouth feels wonderful. "Lick and suck my cock." Your tongue runs up the length of my shaft to the heart-shaped head, then your mouth opens and you engulf it, sucking it, your lips moving around it, sliding up and down the stalk, taking it fully into your mouth. My cock hardens and enlarges as you continue to lave its length and breadth with your wet lips and tongue. As you suck on it, I hear you moan loudly and thrash on the floor as your fingers bring you to an exciting cum. "Push your breasts together." You do so and I move down, kneel over you and slide my throbbing cock between the mounds of your breasts. I plunge back and forth, you gaze on the shining wet tip as it appears and disappears before your eyes. You flick at it with your tongue, kiss it with fleeting kisses. I rise to my feet. "Kneel in front of me." You get to your knees. "Suck me dry." Your mouth once more covers my cock, your hand grips the hardness of the shaft. You pump, you lick, you suck. I moan with pleasure. Pumping, sucking, licking; pumping, sucking, licking... "Aaahhhh---!" I groan aloud with pleasure and thrust my cock deep into your mouth; you feel the hot jism spurt out, squirting again and again into your throat as you swallow it down. And you continue to suck till there is no drop left to cum. I moan and sigh. You smile. I look at you. "And now--" I remark, "how may I pleasure YOU?"

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/17607.txt

A. Van Peebles

Snowbound

"Dr. Lombardi, it's your wife on line two, and your four-thirty appointment has been canceled. You have no more appointments scheduled for today." "Thanks, Margaret," I said to the receptionist. Then picking up the phone, "Hey, Cath. What's up?" "I'm in St. Louis. The airport here just closed due to the snow. My flight from L.A. made it in here, but my connecting flight is canceled. I'm stuck here, at least for tonight." "Damn. Well, I guess it can't be helped. Anything I can do for you?" "No, I'm staying at an airport hotel. I'll call with the number later. Karen is having some friends over for a slumber party tonight. Do you think you can manage?" "No problem. Fifteen-year-olds are pretty self-sufficient," I said, even though being alone in a house full of giggling, teenage girls was my idea of purgatory. "That is, if you think you can trust me alone with a bunch of nubile young girls," I teased. "Sure. You're not that much of a stud," she teased back. "You'll have to go to the grocery store. We don't have that much in the refrigerator." "Anything else?" "Just that I love you." "I love you, too." I looked out the window and realized that it was snowing steadily now. Two inches had accumulated already. I buzzed Margaret. "What's on the docket for tomorrow?" "The hospital called and rescheduled tomorrow's surgery for two weeks from now. They are canceling all elective surgery due to the snow. That was the only thing on your calendar." "Have you notified the patient?" "Yes, disappointed but understanding." "Okay, I'm leaving early. I have to go to the grocery store. I have a house full of teenagers this weekend." "Lucky you." The store was mobbed. What was it about snow that made the city go wild? All the milk was gone by the time I got there, as well as most of the bread. The people had also made a good dent in the store's supply of toilet paper. I spent forty-five minutes in the check-out line, and another two inches had accumulated by the time I left the store. As I started the car, the weatherman on the radio raised the prediction from eight inches to twelve. My cellular phone rang. "What is it, Karen? I've already been to the store, and if I didn't buy it, I'm not going back to get it." "No, I was just wondering if you could pick up Allison. Her parents don't want to drive her over in the snow, but you should be going right by her place." "Where does she live?" "112 Terrace. You should know that; you've taken her home from swimming practice lots of times." "Oh, that Allison. Sure, I go right by. Any other of your friends you want me to pick up?" "No, just Allison. Cheryl and Susan are walking over. Oh, and Mom called. She's stuck in St. Louis." "I know, we talked too. I'll be home in ten minutes, providing Allison is ready. Bye." "Bye." Allison was ready, running out of the house as soon as I turned into the drive. "Hi, Dr. Lombardi," she said as soon as the car door was closed. "Thanks for the ride." "No problem." I turned to her as I said it, and was rewarded with a wonderful smile. Allison was my favorite of Karen's friends. She was by far the prettiest, stunningly beautiful actually. Much prettier, even, than Karen, and I see Karen through a father's adoring eyes. She was bright and more mature than most fifteen-year-olds. While she had the looks to be a model, she had once told me that she wanted to be a doctor and we had a long talk about the medical profession. I remember being struck with how perceptive her questions were. Even though Allison had been ready, my prediction was way off the mark. It took us twenty-five minutes to get home. The side streets were treacherous, and the car was sliding all over. At one point, I completely lost control and the car slid down a hill sideways. Miraculously, I didn't hit anything and we came to a stop at the bottom. I looked over at Allison to see if she was all right, and her face was covered with a big grin and her eyes flashed with excitement. The fear that always follows a close call in a car disappeared. I laughed and apologized. Then, I put the car back into gear, and we drove the rest of the way without incident, but not without a bit more sliding. When we got home, a disaster was in the making. Domino's would not deliver in the snow, and the girls just had to have pizza. I made the situation worse by calling Karen, "Kitten," my pet name for her, mortifying her in front of her friends. Heroically, I managed to save the day by producing the ingredients for homemade pizza from the grocery bags, and the "Kitten" incident was quickly forgotten. Making the pizza was fun. The girls did most of the work, and I kibitzed and flirted with Karen's friends. I suppose my presence embarrassed Karen a bit because there were a few "Oh, Daddy!"s out of her, but she didn't seem to mind too much. After dinner, the girls disappeared upstairs into Karen's room, and I went into my study to read. My reading was interrupted with the sound of a crash.The girls had been having a pillow fight, prematurely because I had always believed the slumber party pillow fight was supposed to be scheduled after lights out, and Allison had taken a tumble down some stairs. She was sitting on the landing, holding her ankle, tears in her eyes. I delivered the usual rebukes about rough-housing to the assembled girls while I examined Allison's ankle. It didn't appear to be broken, probably just twisted, at worst a sprain. She had full range of motion in the joint, although not without pain. I helped her to stand, and then with her left arm over my shoulders and my right around her waist, I helped her back up the stairs and into my bedroom. She was wearing some kind of perfume; it smelled pleasant. As we moved, I became aware that her left breast was pressed against my rib cage; that was pleasant as well. My hand rested on her hip, and I marveled at her slim waist and the wonderful curve of her hip. Allison sat on the edge of the bed. I took off her shoe and sock and told her to roll up the leg of her jeans so I could put a bandage on it. "I think they are too tight to roll up." I looked, and noticed that they were indeed very tight. They could have been painted on. Her shapely calf was clearly displayed. "All right, then you'll have to take them off." "Take them off? In front of you?" "I'm a doctor. You don't have anything I haven't seen a thousand times already, and don't worry, I won't watch you undress." I went into the bathroom to find an Ace bandage. I gave her some extra time to finish taking off the jeans before emerging from the bathroom. I sat on the floor at her feet and started wrapping the ankle. The skin of her legs was soft, like a child's. The shape of her legs, though, was that of a woman. She sat with her legs slightly spread, and I could see her white, cotton panties which covered the mound of her vulva. A few wisps of hair poked out through the elastic. I glanced up at her face, framed by disheveled, light-brown hair. Her eyes were soft with tears, and she was biting her lower lip against the pain. I felt the blood begin to flow to my penis and the beginnings of an erection. I forced myself to focus on the medical task at hand, to be professional. It had been a long time since I was distracted by a pretty patient, not since I was a resident. Pretty women often distracted me, but not while I was treating them. What made it worse was that she was only fifteen and my daughter's best friend. When I was done with the bandage, I went up into the attic to find the crutches I used after my last skiing accident. By the time I returned, Allison was dressed and trying to hobble about the room. I adjusted the crutches to her height, gave her a large dose of ibuprofen for the pain, and told her to keep weight off of the ankle and to let me know if it started to swell. I got a kiss on the cheek for a reward. The rest of the evening passed uneventfully. The snow kept falling; the predictions had been upped again to eighteen inches. There was the expected giggling and slumber party noises from Karen's room and the TV room, but no one else took a header down the stairs. I had decreed "lights out" at midnight, and no more pillow fights. The talking and giggling continued for some time after that, but I didn't really care. Around one o'clock, I clicked off Conan O'Brien and decided to go to bed. I stopped in the living room and looked out the front window at the snow. The neighborhood was almost unrecognizable. The road had not been plowed yet and the neighbors' cars were just white humps along the side of the road. I heard a noise on the stairs and turned. It was Allison, hopping down the stairs on her good leg, banister in one hand, crutches in the other. "What are you doing up?" I asked. "I came down to get a drink." She moved across the room, stood next to me, and looked out the window. She was wearing a short, white nightgown. It came down to her mid-thigh, her perfect legs extending out of the bottom. The gown was also low cut in the chest, placing her fifteen-year-old breasts on display. They were not large, but were round and firm and perfectly formed. She looked vaguely angelic in the white gown, but like an angel that was about to taste the fruit of the tree of knowledge. "It's beautiful." "It sure is," I replied, not taking my eyes off of her. We stood there for a few moments, Allison looking out the window, and me looking at Allison. Then she turned, looked up at me and smiled. She then leaned over and put her arm around me and her head against my chest. "Thanks for having us over. I'm having a lot of fun, despite the ankle." "You're welcome. I'm always happy to have Karen's friends over." Pleasant as it was, I realized this had gone far enough. I had to stop this before I did something irretrievably stupid. "How about that drink? I think there is some juice in the fridge. We ought to save what's left of the milk for breakfast." After getting Allison some juice and helping her back up the stairs, I went into my bedroom, stripped down to my underwear and went into the bathroom. I looked into the mirror and tried to convince myself that I was normal, that there was nothing wrong with being aroused by a beautiful, fifteen-year-old. She was a young woman, not a child. I didn't do anything to take advantage of her. This was healthy. Well, maybe not healthy, but natural. It did not make me a pedophile, or at least that is what I tried to convince myself of. The next choice would be a cold shower or masturbation. I prescribed the latter. I was already semi-erect, and my cock sprung to full size at the first touch. As I stroked, I imagined that Allison came into the bathroom, wearing that nightgown. Wordlessly, she knelt before me, put her hands on my hips and took me into her mouth. I looked down and I saw her take all of my cock into her mouth. She looked up at me, engaging me with those piercing blue eyes. She let my cock slip out of her mouth, and grasping it around the base, ran her tongue around the head, all the while looking into my eyes. She then smiled and tilted her head to take my balls into her mouth. I ran my finger around my balls, pretending it was her tongue. Then I resumed the stroking of my cock. In my fantasy, she continued sucking for a while, using her tongue expertly along the underside of my cock. Not wanting this to end too quickly, I grasped her head and gently stopped her sucking. I raised her up until she was standing before me; then I leaned down and kissed her. She responded eagerly, sliding her tongue between my lips. As we kissed, I ran my hands under the nightgown and along her body. Her skin was soft, but firm. Her belly was flat, smooth and taut, baby fat gone, adult fat yet to come. I ran my hands up and grasped her breast. I ran my fingers across the nipple, feeling it harden under my touch. Allison shuddered when I touched the nipple and broke our kiss. "That feels wonderful, Dr. Lombardi." "You just sucked my cock. You'd better call me Alan." "OK, Alan." "Allison, I'm not sure..." "Alan?" "Yes." "I want you to fuck me," she said, boring a hole into my head with those blue eyes. "Are you sure?" "Yes, Alan. I want you, more than anything." I led her into the bedroom, and lifted off her nightgown, tossing it aside. She stood before me, half girl-half woman, naked and beautiful. Her breasts, small and perfect, capped with erect nipples. Her smooth stomach. Her amazingly thin waist and the gentle curve of her hips. The wisps of hair that covered her mons. We kissed again; this time she was aggressive, shoving her tongue deep into my mouth and scratching my chest with her nails. We fell onto the bed, the fall breaking our embrace. I started kissing her throat, and moved down from there until I reached her breasts. I took one, then the other, into my mouth, at first sucking and then twirling my tongue around her nipple. Then I slid further down, past her navel, until I was between her legs and that sweet-sour musk filled my nostrils. I licked, tentatively at first, up and down her labia. She was already slick. I tried a quick stab of my tongue at her clitoris. She yelped and clamped her thighs around my ears. I looked up and she looked down. Her blue eyes, glazed over, tried in vain to lock onto mine. "That feels wonderful, Alan. No one has ever done that to me before." I smiled and continued my work until she was shaking, violently shoving her hips into my face. I moved back on top of her and kissed her deeply. She broke the kiss and took my earlobe into her mouth, tugging it with her teeth. "Fuck me, Alan. I want you inside me," she rasped into my ear. I positioned myself at the entrance to her vagina, and slowly pushed forward, not wanting to hurt her. She was tight, tighter than any woman I had ever felt, but I entered smoothly. I wondered if she were a virgin; I could not tell. The doubt excited me more than if I knew she was. Allison tossed her head back, eyes closed, and moaned. I started thrusting, and she began gyrating her hips, matching my thrusts. She brought her head forward and opened her eyes. Her blue stare had a fiendish intensity as she stared deep into mine, bucking her hips all the while. I could not hold back much longer. I closed my eyes and started thrusting violently. Our movements mismatched, I slid out of her. I fumbled to try and reinsert myself, but she was quicker.She darted down and again took my cock into her mouth. I shot my load all over the bathroom tile, but in my mind's eye, it was down Allison's throat. She swallowed it all, except for a drop of semen which ran down the side of her chin. She brought her hand to her face, cleaned the semen off her chin, and then licked her finger clean, all the while staring up at me with those eyes of hers. I cleaned up the tile and went to bed. In the morning, the girls fixed their own breakfast; then three of the girls went sledding. Allison stayed behind because of her ankle. I headed out into the snow to shovel the driveway. It needed it, and I did not completely trust myself in the house alone with Allison. There was a lot of snow, but it was dry and light. It took me about two hours to clear the driveway and path, and by that time my lower back was stiff and burning. I really should buy a long-handled snow shovel. Once inside, I shed my boots and coat and realized that I was soaking wet with sweat. A critical choice faced me, a shower or lunch? Hunger won out. I quickly got out of my wet clothes, changing into sweat pants and a T-shirt and headed into the kitchen to make a sandwich. In the kitchen, I dropped a knife. Allison must have heard me moaning as I tried to bend over and pick it up; the pain in my back was excruciating. She hobbled into the kitchen. "What's the matter Dr. L?" "Just a stiff back from shoveling." "Would you like a massage? I give them to my Dad all the time. I'm pretty good at it." "No, thanks. It'll be better in about an hour." "Come on. You fixed my ankle, let me fix your back. It'll feel great." That was what I was afraid of, but she kept pleading, and finally I relented. I had a day bed in my study that was the closest thing to a massage table in the house. Allison led the way. We must have been quite a sight with her limp and my gasps of pain with each step. I lay face down on the day bed with my hands folded under my head. I closed my eyes and Allison climbed up and straddled me, her bottom lightly resting on mine. Allison started in on my shoulders. "Oh, you are really tense. All knotted up. Too bad I don't have any massage oil, but I'll have to make do." She leaned forward so she could bear down harder. Her hair hung down and tickled the back of my neck, and I could feel her breath on my cheek. I could also feel a raging hard-on developing. Gradually, she moved her ministrations lower, working my shoulder blades and down my sides. "You are kind of sweaty." "Sorry, it's from the shoveling. I guess I should have showered first." "Don't worry. I don't mind. In fact, it's kind of sexy." She giggled. "I'm sorry. I guess I shouldn't have said that." "Just massage. No comments from the peanut gallery." I didn't know which felt better, the relief from the back pain or her hands kneading my flesh and her hot breath on the back of my neck. Also, every time she shifted her weight, her crotch rubbed back and forth across my butt. My penis screamed for relief, but it was pressed hard against my stomach and got none. Allison got off the couch, moved behind me, and started massaging my legs. I was glad that my penis was pressed up against my stomach and not extending down into one of my pant legs for her to find. "Roll over and I'll do your front." That I could not do. In my loose fitting sweat pants, I would pitch a circus tent. There had been nothing overtly sexual about her massage, but my penis felt like it was at least an inch longer than it usually got. "Thanks, Allison, but no. My back is one hundred percent better. I'll just lay here and try to nap." "OK, Dr. L. See you later." I managed to avoid Allison for the rest of the day. The other two girls left around three, and Allison's parents came by to pick her up around four o'clock. Before she left, she sought me out to thank me for "fixing" her ankle and having her over. I remember looking into her eyes as she thanked me and realizing that her eyes were brown. I had thought they were blue. I guess I was not that observant. It disturbed me since I had been looking at her all weekend. At about eight o'clock on Sunday, I heard a car in the drive. I walked into the foyer and Catherine, my wife, was coming through the door. She set her bags down, and I took her into my arms and kissed her hard. "Well, somebody missed me," she said when we came up for air. We kissed again. "Oh, gross! PDA," said Karen behind us. "God, my own parents slobbering over one another. You're worse than the teenagers in school." "It's nice to see you, too, Dear," replied my wife. "I'm going over to Cheryl's to watch a video," announced Karen. "School night. Be back by ten," reminded Catherine. "But, it's eight now. The video won't be over by ten." "Ten thirty," I said. Karen sighed, and left, kissing her mom on the cheek as she left. "You're getting generous in your old age," joked Catherine. "Generous? I am being completely self-serving. I just bought us another thirty minutes of being alone together." "Oh, I see what you're up to. Poor man. Cooped up in a house filled with, how did you put it, 'nubile, young girls.' No wonder you're so eager. Let me get cleaned up. I have a surprise for you. Meet me in the bedroom in twenty minutes." Twenty minutes later, I was lying on the bed and Catherine emerged from the bathroom. She was wearing a low-cut, white nightgown that came down to the middle of her thigh. "Believe it or not, there is a Victoria's Secret store in the St. Louis airport." She spun around, modeling it for me, not realizing that I had seen it just last night. It fit Catherine better, though. It was designed for a woman with larger breasts, and Cath filled it out nicely. Somehow, it did not look angelic on her; it looked damned hot. She slid in bed next to me. As we kissed, I ran the back of my hand along her cheek. Her skin was soft, but not firm like a teenager's; it was yielding instead. She took my finger into her mouth, sucking on it and looking up into my eyes. I then realized that those piercing, blue eyes about which I had fantasized did not belong to Allison; they belonged to my Catherine. END

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/13739.txt

Celena Dieterich

Lust With a Side of Psychosis

"Did you go in for a blood level, Ivy?" "Yes, Doc." "Then why don't I have a report from the hospital labs?" he asked patiently. Ivy heaved a sigh. "I give up. Why?" "Ivy, Lithium can reach toxic levels in your bloodstream. You must be tested every three weeks to be certain your dosage is correct." "Oh, my dosage is just fine, Doc," Ivy assured him. She knew exactly where this discussion was going, but was avoiding telling her psychiatrist that she hadn't been taking her lithium for about six weeks. Sure, it evened out her mood swings. But what if you're addicted to your own mood swings? What if you LIKE them? What if you don't WANT someone trying to FIX you? As Kurt Vonnegut had said, "I want to stay as close to the edge as I can without going over. Out on the edge you see all kinds of things you can't see from the center." "...back in the hospital, Ivy," Dr. Christians was saying. "Oh, no," the dark-haired woman replied. "I told you I'm not going back there." "Look, Ivy," Dr. Christians replied, "I'll be forced to put you back into the hospital if you can't take your lithium and attend group sessions. Those were the terms of our agreement. Need I remind you that you are bound by terms you helped to choose?" "I'm TAKING my lithium," Ivy lied loudly. "And I'm going to group tonight. Ask those morons at the hospital lab what happened to my last blood level. I went in for it. I had to leave work early to get there. Check with my boss!" That much was true. Barry had let her out of the office early the other day, and he DID think she was going for medical tests. Never mind the fact that she had actually met Pete and had sex with him again. She knew Dr. Harold Christians would have a fit if he knew she was indulging in clandestine sexual activities with a married fellow manic-depressive from her group therapy sessions. She really hadn't been intending to carry on with Pete. When they'd first met in group, they'd discovered a mutual love of music, art and rhetoric. Pete had been incredibly entertained by her ability to remember great quotations. It hadn't hurt that her 38D breasts were nearly as beautiful as her big brown eyes. He had told her he loved her "deer-caught-in-the-headlights" look and desperately wanted to "mow her down." For her own part, Ivy instantly fell in love with anyone who could make her laugh. It wouldn't have mattered if Pete had been 4 feet tall and weighed 400 pounds, she'd still have had sex with him because he was an entertaining guy. Ivy always assumed that someone who was entertaining would also be a star in bed. She was frequently wrong, but that didn't stop her from trying. Fortunately for sexual kismet, Pete was quite tall and had brown curly hair about the same shade of brunette as her own, as well as being only very slightly overweight. His green eyes were brilliant in the institutional lighting. Before the first session began, he sidled up to her and whispered in her ear, "I think I've found true love." "True love is like ghosts, which everybody talks about and few have seen," Ivy responded, quoting Francois De La Rochefoucauld. Pete laughed. "Accurate enough," he conceded. Ivy was annoyed by the group therapy sessions. The two earth-muffin, healy-feely psychotherapists who ran the operation were always trying to get her to express her feelings. Ivy had never had a problem expressing her feelings in her entire life. She had a hard time NOT expressing her feelings, in fact. She just didn't want to hear Frank, the overgrown bedwetter in the group, tell everyone for the 115th time that he'd been sexually abused as a child. She didn't want to hear the skinny chick whine about her crappy relationships. Why couldn't these people see that life would always make them somewhat miserable and JUST GET ON WITH IT! Most of the people in Sponer and Jerkins' Thursday night group sessions were ordinary, garden-variety neurotics. While they had some incredible circumstances in their personal lives that required surmounting, they were not classifiable as psychotics. The two manic-depressives in the group, Pete and Ivy, didn't really belong there, but Sponer and Jerkins hadn't had a group of bi-polars to put them in at the time. Besides, bi-polars were difficult to manage in herds. As the group introduced themselves to one another during that first session, Ivy and Pete observed one another, recognizing one of their own kind almost instinctively. Frank told everyone for the first time that he was neurotic as hell and had been sexually abused as a child. Janie, the scrawny one, whined about her boyfriend, but said little about herself. Poor thing, thought Ivy. She sees herself as nothing but a reflection of the man she's with. Gloria was a relatively ordinary middle-aged woman who had suffered a terrible breakdown after her husband of 10 years announced that he wanted a sex-change operation. Corinne was a stunning redhead who refused to say anything at all and appeared to be quite depressed. Ivy imagined that if she were as drop-dead gorgeous as Corinne, she wouldn't have a damned thing in the world that would bother her, although she knew inherently that she was completely wrong. Then Pete took command of the room, telling everyone that he was a manic-depressive, taking depakote instead of the lithium that Ivy took, and that he was a third-year med-school dropout working as some idiot's assistant in a big corporate office to support his wife and three kids. (Ivy would later find out that Pete's wife came from a very wealthy family, and that they didn't really require the money he made. He worked to feel useful, he told her.) His manic episodes, he told the group, had landed him twice in jail, thrice in the hospital, and always managed to get him laid. When it was Ivy's turn, she smiled that Mona Lisa sort of smile that many manic-depressives have. She told them quietly that she played flute with the local symphony and gave them one of her favorite George Santayana quotes: "Music is essentially useless, as is life." She told the group that she was a "Lithiumite from WAY back," which Sponer later clarified for the others. She also regaled them with a rather gothic description of her last suicide attempt a few years previous. Pete had grinned knowingly at her and winked when she explained that all she'd really wanted was to make them play Pink Floyd's "Comfortably Numb" at her funeral. She almost laughed when Pete winked. During the second session, Pete and Ivy very deliberately seated themselves next to one another. "God, I dread listening to another evening of crap," Pete complained to her underneath his breath. "As Jean-Paul Sartre said, 'Hell is other people'," Ivy responded in a whisper. Sponer began his usual heart-warming meditation which began all their sessions, and Ivy leaned over and told Pete, "You know, I'd really be interested in seeing you naked." "That's because you're a nympho," he whispered back. "All you manic-depressives are horny as hell." "Heh-heh," she chuckled wickedly, "you oughta know." "Oh, believe me, I do," he said. "And I'll be glad to show you after this session." Ivy knew she was behaving badly. Ivy was famous for behaving badly during her manic phases. She knew Pete was, too. It was part of the package. As the group was breaking up for the evening, Carl Jerkins took Ivy aside. "You know, Ivy, I really think you're doing well in this group." "I'm beginning to think I'm doing INCREDIBLY well, Doc," she said with a chuckle, eyeing Pete's ass as he left the room. Ivy caught up with Pete before he got to the elevators. "Leaving so soon?" she asked him. With lightning speed, Pete pressed her back toward the wall opposite the elevator, grabbed her ass, and pulled it toward his own hips. "No, I was hoping to press you up against the wall and feel your breasts while Jerkins and Sponer watched, but it looked like Jerkins was going to get to you first. But I'll bet my cock is bigger than his, so it's a good thing you came after me.He was sliding his hands up into her sweater as he spoke. Ivy giggled. "Oh, I'm fairly sure it is, if that item pressing against my thigh is any indication. Unless you're just packing a salami. And if that's the case, I'm ready for a snack." Pete chuckled, biting her neck a little as he squeezed her nipples. "So it isn't going to bother you that I have a wife and children? Because I AM in love with you." "Love is an ideal thing, marriage a real thing; and confusion of the real with the ideal never goes unpunished," Ivy quoted to him, breathing hard and fast. "Goethe! My favorite!" he replied exultantly. "So let's fuck." Ivy leaned her head back, enjoying his nibbles on her tender neck. "Well, OK. But I thought you'd be in love with that gorgeous Corinne," she told him. She was hoping he would lie to her and tell her she was far more beautiful. "Oh, she's hot alright," Pete said as his fingers pulled on her left nipple and Ivy's knees went a bit weak. "But you ooze sexuality. You need to be fucked. I can tell." "True enough, Pete," Ivy said easily, with a giggle. She reached up and pulled his head down so that she could get her mouth against his, sucking hard on his tongue when she managed to lure it into her mouth. ".....for the next session," Sponer's voice was saying as the door to the therapist's offices opened. In a slight panic, Ivy pushed Pete back and pulled her sweater down. She couldn't have the two psychotherapists catching her and telling their supervising M.D. Dr. Christians would NOT approve, she was fairly certain. Besides, anything even slightly risky always pleased Ivy immensely. She needed risk to feel alive. Pete smiled widely as he punched the elevator button. "Damned thing seems slow tonight, doesn't it," he said conversationally to her as the therapists emerged from their office. "Yes. Yes, it does. I'm in the mood for something MUCH faster," Ivy replied. The two potential lovers stepped into the next available elevator and looked at one another, waiting to see if Sponer and Jerkins would be joining them. "Should we hold this for you?" Ivy called out to them as Pete stepped to the back of the elevator and got behind Ivy, pressing his cock against her ass from behind. "No, we'll catch the next one," Sponer called back as the doors slid shut. "Oh, good," Pete sighed as he pressed himself along Ivy's back and cupped her breasts. She wiggled her hips back against him and pushed the L for Lobby button. "So shall I just fuck the daylights out of you in the parking garage, or do you want to go back to my place?" Ivy asked Pete. "You shouldn't have strange men in your home, little girl!" Pete admonished her. "True, and you DO seem pretty strange," she agreed. "And I was once warned by a very good friend that I should never sleep with anyone crazier than myself." "You know, I've had the same warning. But I won't know if I'm any crazier than you are until AFTER I've made you cum four or five times. I think it's important to make a lady come several times before I release my load," Pete replied as the elevator lurched to a halt. " 'I only require three things of a man. He must be handsome, ruthless and stupid,' " Ivy quoted with a gleam in her eye and then muttered, "Dorothy Parker said that." She took Pete's hand and pulled him toward her car. "Wait, wait," he said, "I should follow you in my car so that you don't have to bring me back here." Ivy readily agreed with him, and they got into their separate vehicles. She spied Pete's truck behind her as she drove her little blue Miata out of the parking garage, blaring Beethoven. She wondered briefly if this would become one of her more enduring affairs or merely a good solid distraction. Pete was adorable, but hadn't really said much to her other than propositioning her. Not that this was a problem for Ivy. She loved a man who knew what he wanted. She knew that even if Pete were a boorish idiot, she'd be hopelessly in love in no time at all, especially if he was any good in bed. It was the way she was. Ivy pulled up in front of her little condo and was about to slide out of her car when she decided to remove her underwear. Quickly, she pulled her short denim skirt up and slid her blue satin panties down, wadding them into her fist and getting out of the car. As Pete followed her up the walk eyeing her ass, she casually tossed them over her shoulder at him. He caught them neatly, laughing. "Ummmmmm...Ivy," Pete said as he looked around her condo, "It doesn't look like you live alone here." "My husband has taken our son and gone to visit his parents for Thanksgiving. He knows I abhor them," she said easily. "You didn't say a word about marriage," Pete reminded her. "You didn't say you had kids or anything!" "What? You have a sudden case of gender loyalty and hypocrisy combined?" she retorted. "It's OK for YOU to be cheating, but not me?" "No, no, no," Pete said quickly. "You can cheat. Especially with me! I just didn't know that much about you, I suppose." " 'The dread of loneliness is greater than the fear of bondage, so we get married.' Cyril Connolly," Ivy laughed and dropped her coat beside the door. She was a notoriously crappy housekeeper. "But you know enough to know that I want to see you naked, right?" Pete chuckled as he threw his own jacket into the corner with hers. He quickly began to peel off his clothes. "Oh, I'll be happy to let you see me naked, Ivy. You just have to reciprocate." "Well, I thought we'd at least move out of the foyer first, but whatever," Ivy said amiably and she began to shuck her skirt and sweater. "Gee, and I'd dressed so nice just to impress you," Pete teased her as his Dockers fell to the floor. " 'One should never put on one's best trousers to go out to battle for freedom and truth,' " Ivy replied, "although I suppose adultery still isn't what Ibsen had in mind when he said that." Ivy was releasing her heavy breasts from the periwinkle satin bra she wore. "Let me help you with that," Pete said sliding his hands over her nipples as the bra dropped to the floor. At 6'1" Pete was quite a bit taller than Ivy's considerable 5'8", so his rigid cock pressed against her belly as he held her in his arms. His mouth was warm and sweet when he pressed his lips against hers. She wiggled slightly in his grasp, stroking the hair at the back of his neck as they kissed, tongues touching and retreating, then touching again. Pete ran his hands down her naked sides. Ivy's clit was throbbing in cadence with the little pushes Pete's cock made against her soft abdomen. "You're beautiful, Ivy," Pete whispered into her left ear as he kissed his way around it. Ivy shivered with delight, knowing that she allowed this sort of validation to have far too much importance to her. Ivy loved men and sex, for the sheer pleasure of the act, of having a different cock suck deep in her pussy. She moaned slightly trailing her fingers down his spine to feel that gorgeous ass she'd been admiring. For his own part, Pete was glad to have found someone as horny as he was, especially someone who was likely to understand how his mildly warped mind worked. Ivy was less likely to be miffed when he disappeared for days at a shot because he was willing to bet that she did it, too. She had nice tits, and she didn't seem to take everything as seriously as his wife did. Why did everything come down to a comparison of the spouse to the lover? And why did he stay married if the spouse was always found lacking? For the same reasons Ivy did. Because it was there. It was what she'd committed to. It was also a safe haven from the rest of the world, even if it sucked. It was a hassle to divorce. Besides, then she wouldn't have that forbidden thrill of cheating if she left her husband. That was half the fun. Ivy removed her hand from Pete's ass and reached between them. She dipped a finger in her pussy, and brought it out to touch Pete's lips. "I want you to eat me, Pete," she told him. Now here was a woman who knew exactly what she wanted and wasn't afraid to tell her lover. Pete caught the tip of her finger between his teeth and licked at it the way he would her clit, making Ivy squirm with delight. She pulled away from his embrace and took him into the bedroom. "Sorry. Haven't made the bed since 1988," she mumbled as she flopped on her back and spread her legs for him. "Come here, Pete." Ivy felt that oral sex was a measure for all men. A halfway decent man would graciously dive right in. A truly great man would tease her a bit and then enjoy her fruits with gusto. She sincerely hoped Pete turned out to be the latter, but she'd been disappointed by some very nice guys before. Pete knelt between her thighs and stroked her labia softly, barely touching it. There was a thin line of hair at the mound, and the rest was shaven smooth. Ivy was delighted and let out an appreciative little "Mmmmmmm," as he brushed his hand down her oozing crotch. He spread her nether lips and examined her pussy thoroughly, reminding her that he HAD been a med student and knew a good one when he saw it. She laughed even as she squirmed in anticipation. Her breathing was growing ragged, and her eyes were half-closed. Pete loved having a woman at his sexual mercy this way. He loved turning her on, loved the way she sighed when he dragged his finger down her slit. He leaned over and lightly licked each of her nipples in turn as he slid two fingers into her pussy. It was wet and tight. The feeling made his cock ache for release. He was dying to drive himself all the way into that little hole and fuck her until she screamed. He kissed a wet line down her rounded belly to her mound. He removed the two fingers he'd been slowly stroking inside of her and spread her cunt wide open.He looked up into her eyes for a few seconds as she whimpered incoherently, and then he licked her from her perineum all the way up to her hard little clit. He dragged his tongue slowly back down again and then up. Ivy's hips began to move in rhythm with his licks, and she was moaning loudly now. She groaned when he sank his fingers back inside her cunt and began to circle her clit with his tongue. His lips sucked around the tiny knob of her clit while his tongue gently flicked it. He could feel her pussy tightening around his fingers and increased the tempo and force of his tongue. She was grinding her hips against him, clutching handfuls of the rumpled bedsheets and moaning as she began to cum in spasms. "Yes... oh... God, yes," she groaned. "Don't stop." He didn't. He gently brought her down from her first climax and pulled his fingers free. Before she had a chance to relax, he was on his knees, rubbing the head of his cock all over her eager slit. Slowly, he began to slide his cock into her cunt. "You're so tight," he sighed happily as he began stroking back and forth inside her. Ivy reached down his back to grab him by the back of his thighs and pull him forcefully into her waiting pussy. Pete had a long, thick cock that rivaled most she'd seen. It was perfect, and she was grateful after all that she'd gone to group that night. She pulled tightly on his cock with her muscles. Every time he pulled back, she tightened down, as though she was afraid he'd pull his cock out of her. Pete's eyes were now the ones half-closed in ecstasy as Ivy's hips rose to meet his. Ivy knew she was going to lose control again soon. "Ah... I'm... ung... gonna cum... Pete," she moaned. Pete thrust himself hard and fast into her pussy and began to pound her cunt, fucking her hard, so that her next orgasm hit her like a ton of bricks, and she was groaning loudly, almost screaming. With a loud groan, Pete felt his own semen rising and knew he was about to pour it into her pussy. He had a vision of his white-hot cum splashing across her cervix as he thrust his cock into her. She was clutching his ass and writhing with pleasure. As their orgasms subsided, Pete was suddenly overcome with an urge to be practical. "Ivy," he said, rolling off her and holding her in his arms, "you're not going to whack out on me, are you?" Ivy laughed raucously, enough to make Pete a little nervous. When she got herself under control, she said, "You're a manic-depressive, too, Pete. Can YOU be trusted not to whack out? Do you have any idea how funny it was for you to have said that?" "So very true," Pete agreed with a self-deprecating chuckle. "But you know what I mean." "Can I be trusted not to tell your wife? Can I be trusted not to run to a lawyer?" Ivy asked. "Oooooh, yeah. As Lord Chesterfield said of sex, 'the pleasure is momentary, the position ridiculous, and the expense damnable.' Yes, you can trust me not to blackmail you. And I'm going to assume that the same is true of you, Pete." Pete heaved a sigh of relief. "I still can't tell which one of us is crazier. I need to make you cum a few more times." Ivy giggled. "OK," she said easily, knowing that a beautiful affair was underway.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/17735.txt

Citation

"Damn!" The patrol car's blue and red flashers loomed large in my rearview mirror... I had been caught. I pulled into the parking lot of a large mall simply because traffic on the street was too heavy. I held on to a faint hope the patrol car would keep going, but no luck; it pulled in right behind me. For the first time, I got a good look at the officer behind the wheel. Auburn hair and hazel eyes... the kind that could melt ice cubes or start fires in other places. "If I have to get a ticket, at least it will come from a good-looking lady," I muttered out loud. When she stepped from the patrol car, I received a double surprise - not only did she have a stunning-looking face, but she filled her uniform magnificently! She wasn't petite by any means, but she wasn't an amazon either. She was very shapely and looked like she could handle herself in any situation, from a street brawl to the bedroom. Looking at her walk as she approached my car, I felt that familiar warmth and stirring in the most private parts of my body. "What the hell, John," I said to myself, "Let's have a little fun." As she approached, I noticed the absence of a wedding ring, something I always look for on good-looking women, not that a wedding ring really makes a difference - the approach is just different. I rolled down my window and waited. She stood cautiously about three feet from my door. I put both hands on the steering wheel to let her know I meant no harm. I looked up at those deep, hazel eyes with a big grin on my face... "I hope you realize," I said good-naturedly, "this has completely destroyed any possibility of a meaningful relationship between us." Her eyes widened slightly in surprise, radiating a twinkle that promised a great sense of humor. A wide smile came shortly after, and she hid it with her hand. "Excuse me," she said in a silky voice that failed to hide the amusement she was feeling. "I'll be right back. Please stay where you are." She returned to her patrol car and got in. I could see her laughing in my rearview, aided by the lights in her car and the lights in the parking lot. Officer K. Edwards had a sense of humor all right; I was determined to test it to the limit. While she sat in the patrol car, I unzipped my slacks and fished out my semi-hard cock. The mere sight of the way she filled her uniform made me tingle all over... a few sensual strokes, and my cock stood up in my lap like a submarine's periscope looking for something to torpedo. A quick check of the rearview showed me she was returning. Her countenance composed and all business. "May I have your driver's license, registra... Oh Shit!" She had seen the periscope. I looked deep into her eyes and saw no humor in them. I had carried my little joke too far. "Sir," she said in a controlled and level tone of voice, "please put your penis back in your pants and step out of the car." Her right hand rested on the handle of the gun at her side. "I'm sorry, Officer Edwards, I..." "Do it now." She cut me off sternly, her hand tightening on the gun handle. I knew she meant business. I was sorry I had gone as far as I did and was a little embarrassed and frightened. I stuffed my cock back in my pants as best I could while she watched. I got out of the car. "Face the car, put your feet apart, lean against the car with your hands on the roof." "Oh, come on, officer. I was only..." "Please DO IT, sir." I was really scared now, and the fear only made my now aching cock even harder. I assumed the position she requested, my heart thudding in my chest, pumping even more blood into my already stiff shaft. She pulled my feet further away from my car with her own, forcing my weight onto my hands, setting me off balance. Beginning at my ankles, she frisked me, moving slowly upward, first on the outside, then the inside of my legs. When she reached my crotch, she pushed gently upward on my testicles, then moved her hand firmly along the length of my now throbbing cock. I felt a bead of lubricating liquid ooze from the tip. "I suppose you think this is funny." She seemed just a little out of breath, but her voice still had that silky, sensual tone laced with authority. "N-no, officer." I was really frightened now. "I can't help it, something about you really turns me on." Her hand left my cock and continued expertly exploring the upper regions of my body. "Put your left hand behind you back, please." Her manner was professional and all business. I felt the cold chrome steel of the handcuff close around my wrist. "Now your right hand, please." She finished cuffing me, turned me around, and leaned me against the car. "Aw, c'mon officer, you're not really going to..." "Shut up or I'll gag you too!" Her voice was even and low. It had lost that sensual silkiness. She meant what she said. "You are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law." I couldn't believe I had been so stupid, exposing myself to a cop. She finished Mirandizing me and locked up my car. "I'm taking you to the station for booking. The charge is indecent exposure." She led me to the patrol car, opened the rear door, and helped me in. "Shit!" I thought, "Nine o'clock at night and I'm on my way to jail for flashing my cock at a cop!" She glanced back at me in the rearview mirror from time to time. I couldn't swear to it, but I thought I saw that sparkle in her eyes again...like a predator cat toying with its victim just before the kill. "Look on the bright side," she said, that silkiness back in her voice, "I'm not going to give you a ticket." "I don't suppose you'd be willing to forget about my, shall we say, stupidity back there, would you?" "Not a chance! You're going to pay for this one, mister." "John," I said weakly. "Listen, I didn't mean any disrespect, Officer Edwards...may I ask you your first name?" "Sure," she said evenly, "you can ask." "What is your first name, officer?" "Patrolwoman Edwards, badge 6973," she said. "Now button it up, creep, we're almost there." "This is it," I thought. "My life ruined and all because I had to have a little fun...SHIT!" She pulled the patrol car into the driveway of what looked like a deserted building across the street from the police station. "Hey," I said, "isn't that the police station across the street?" "That's the new station, this is the old station. We use the old station as a holding area. You're not getting booked until morning. Give you a chance to cool off." "But Officer...." "I told you to button it! One more word and you get a gag...I mean it!" She pulled to a stop at the rear of the building and helped me out. I thought it rather strange there were no lights in the parking lot, and none on in the building. She led me in to the building, her flashlight leading the way. "Hey, wait a second! Where are you..." "Shut up!" she said, and took us to the basement and a long row of deserted cells. She stopped in front of one of the cells and removed the handcuffs. I turned around to see the barrel of her revolver aimed at the center of my chest. "Now back up, slowly, into the cell." The gun barrel didn't waver an inch...I backed in slowly. "Strip." "What?" I couldn't believe what I'd heard. "I'm not stripping for you or anyone else. I want to make a phone call." She cocked the revolver and aimed it lower. "Strip or I'll give you a .38 caliber vasectomy, you son-of-a-bitch." I stripped down to my undershorts and socks and stood there like an adolescent at his first dance. My hard-on had long since vanished. All I felt now was a slight nausea and weakness in my knees. "Take it all off," she said evenly. I did as she commanded, first the socks then, hesitantly, the underwear. I cupped my hands in front of my private parts. "A little shy?" she asked, smiling. "You were anxious enough to show it to me a little while ago." "Look, Patrolwoman Edwards," I said weakly, "that was a mistake and I'm sorry." "Kate," she said with her silky voice, "now lie down on the bunk on your back." Her revolver was still aimed at my shriveled privates. I stretched out on the bunk. "Here," she said, tossing the handcuffs at me, "put the chain through the bars on the bunk and cuff both hands." When I had done that, she produced a pair of plastic strip ties and bound my feet, spread-eagled, to the foot of the bunk.She came to the side of the bunk and sat down next to me. She put the barrel of her revolver under my limp cock and lifted it. The coldness of the steel sent shivers through my body. "Pathetic looking little thing," she said laughing, "what's the matter, stud, can't get it up?" I moaned in embarrassment. She got up and hung the heavy wool blanket from the other bunk across the cell window, then lit a large candle that had been in the sink. A warm glow of light and eerie shadows filled the cell. She stood in the center of the cell, put her gun in its holster, and removed the belt. She tossed it on the empty bunk. Slowly, she reached behind her head and did something with her hair. It fell across her shoulders, flashing like deep burning embers in the candlelight. "I'll make you a deal," she said, standing with her legs slightly apart, hands on her hips, "if I'm happy with you in the morning, you go free. If not, you go to jail." My mouth fell open in astonishment, and I could feel the hydraulic system in my loins begin to pump blood into my limp meat. "Huh?" was all I could manage. "Either that," she purred with that silky voice, "or I take you across the street and book you right now. What'll it be? A night of pleasure or a police record?" "What do I have to do to make you happy?" "It's really very simple. Until six tomorrow morning, you are going to be my slave. If you do everything, EVERYTHING I tell you to do, and don't complain about anything...I'll be happy and you'll be free. Fail to comply just once, or complain the slightest bit...and I book you as a pervert. Deal?" "I-I'll give it a try, Kate. May I call you Kate?" "You may. Now for the rules. You may make any sounds of passion you wish and as loud as you wish. No one will hear us. You may not touch me unless I give you my permission. I will do with you whatever I please, and you will not complain. That's all there is to it." "O-okay," I said timidly, "I'll try." She unbuttoned the blouse of her uniform and removed it. Her ample breasts, trapped by her bra, swelled in the middle like two gently rolling hills. She reached behind her and set them free, tossing her bra on the empty bunk with her blouse. She cupped her breasts, lifting them slightly, and looked from them to me. "Do you like my breasts, slave?" Frantically trying to remember the rules she had outlined, I replied, "Yes, Kate, they're magnificent." I didn't have to pretend to answer, either...they were truly amazing! She approached me slowly, still cupping those beautiful globes. When she got to me, she leaned over and put one of her erect nipples about a half inch from my lips. My cock had come fully awake now and was standing at attention. I wanted to take that succulent nipple in my mouth...taste its sweetness and nibble on it...my cock began to pulsate. "May I take your nipple in my mouth, Kate?" "NO!" she said, a huskiness in her silky voice, her breathing deeper and a little faster. She closed the distance between her nipple and my lips, pushing it lightly against my mouth. My loins were screaming at my lips and teeth to open up and take that hard little bud inside...my mind kept my mouth tightly shut. After what seemed like centuries, she stood up. "You've passed my little test, slave. Do you want to suck on my nipple?" "Oh yes, Kate, please, I beg you, put your nipple in my mouth." At that moment, I wasn't acting or playing a slave game; my entire being ached to taste her. "Very well," she purred seductively, "you're a good slave and deserve a reward. The better you are, the more rewards you get." She leaned over me again. I parted my hungry lips and raised my head to meet her descending nipple. She held it just out of reach. I couldn't help myself, little boy whimpering sounds escaped my throat in anticipation. "Please, oh please, Kate," I whimpered, "I'll do anything you say, ANYTHING, just let me taste your nipple." "I know you will, darling," she whispered, "I know you will." She lowered her hard nipple to my parted lips. I closed them around it and slowly traced a path around its base with my tongue. Her eyes closed, and a soft moan came out of her. She pushed harder with her breast, and I opened my mouth wider to take all she wanted to give. "Yessss slave! Suck my breast!" Her breathing was heavier. I captured her nipple in my teeth and began nibbling from the base, working my way to the tip, then flicked, licked, and sucked, then began nibbling again. Her moaning became louder and more yearning. Without warning, she stood up, pulling her breast from my mouth with a wet popping sound. I groaned in frustration and disappointment. "Something wrong, slave?" Her eyes flashed mischievously at mine, the sparkle had returned. "Do you want to suck on my nipple some more?" she asked teasingly. "You aren't complaining, are you?" "No, mistress Kate, I'm not complaining. It's just that your nipples are so sweet and firm...I could nibble and suck on them for hours." "Perhaps later," she said, moving back to the center of the cell. "Right now, I want you to see the rest of what you may or may not get to experience tonight." She kicked her shoes off and flipped them onto the other bunk. Slowly, she unfastened the waistband of her slacks and lowered the zipper. My pulse quickened, and my rigid cock began waving wildly in the air, its spasms completely beyond my control. My eyes were riveted on the juncture of her thighs as she continued to lower the zipper with one hand, the other holding the waistband together. As the zipper reached its lowest point, she turned her back to me. To say she was a master tease would be an understatement. I had no doubt she was serious when she told me I may or may not get to partake of her luscious charms. It became my fervent hope that she would be a compassionate mistress and allow me to become lost in ecstasy within her body. She lowered her slacks from her waist to the top of her hips, looked back over her shoulder at me, blew me a sensuous kiss, then threw her head back and laughed teasingly. She began undulating her hips in a slow, circular motion. With each rotation, she pushed the slacks lower on her hips. After what seemed an eternity, I could see the lacy waistband of her panties, black against the creamy smooth flesh of her lower back. She wasn't wearing pantyhose. Still lower the slacks went, driving me crazy with desire, until her entire buttocks were exposed, sheathed in filmy, black lace bikini panties. Her ass cheeks rotating against one another beneath the lace of her panties as she continued to undulate her hips. It was almost more than I could bear. I wanted to scream out, "Fuck me, Kate! Oh, please, slide your hot pussy down over my cock! I want to be inside you!" But I dared not for fear this would all end with a trip across the street and booking. So I simply lay there watching, my heart pounding in my chest, my cock throbbing mercilessly. She stopped undulating her hips and simply let her slacks fall down around her ankles. Her bare legs were smooth and shapely and held promises of wondrous delights. Slowly, she bent over at the waist without bending her knees. As she bent, the fabric of her panties tightened across her cheeks and the juncture between. Covered only by a thin strip of lace, her hidden pussy raised my blood to the boiling point. As she lifted first one leg, then the other, to step out of her slacks, her pussy also shifted, first to one side, then the other. She was watching me now from between her legs, her upside-down smile seemed somehow angelic and demonic at the same time. She raised her hand between her legs and began moving her middle finger up and down the lace that covered her charms. She closed her eyes and moaned softly...I could barely hear it over the whimpering sounds I was making. She moved the lace aside, exposing the deliriously luscious lips of her moist pussy. As I watched hypnotized, her finger slowly vanished between those lips. "Oh God! Kate," I moaned, "you're driving me..." I became silent, remembering the "no complaint" rule. She stopped, her finger buried deep in her pussy. Her eyes opened wide, staring at me upside down from between her long, shapely legs. "You may continue, slave. Don't be afraid," she purred. "CRAZY!" I shouted in pure animal lust. She jumped slightly at my shout, but kept her finger buried deep within her. I had never wanted a woman as badly as I wanted her at that moment. "Oh God, please mistress..." Tears of frustration were streaming down my face, my body arched off the bed, my hips thrust into the air. "Let me ram my cock deep inside your pussy! GOD! IT HURTS...I FEEL LIKE I'M GOING TO BURST...I WANT YOU SO BADLY!" I was squirming all over the bunk, breathing heavily and moaning loudly. "It hurts?" She asked, her finger now moving slowly in and out of her wet pussy, making me delirious with lust. "Is that a complaint, slave?" "N-no, no mistress!" I replied quickly with gasping breath. "It's a good hurt! A wonderful hurt!" "That's better," she purred, slowly removing her finger from her pussy. She stood up straight, turned sensually, and came toward me, her pubic mound pushing at the lace...undulating...teasing. She sat on the bunk next to me. "We'll have to do something about that hurt," she said. She took my throbbing, pulsating, aching cock in her hand and closed her fingers loosely around it. Then she ran the finger that had been buried deep in her wet pussy under my nose. As she did this, she squeezed my cock with her other hand. The sweet smell of her juices invaded my brain, short-circuiting millions of neuro switches. Her scent and the squeezing pressure of her hand on my cock were too much.My balls tightened involuntarily, and a stream of hot, creamy cum erupted from the head of my cock and flowed over her hand. I tried to pump against her hand with my hips to release more of my pent-up fluid, but she released her grip on my hot cock immediately. It jerked a few times on its own, pumping liquid from the tip with each spasm. I could feel it hot against my skin as it worked its way down my shaft toward my balls. I wanted to scream in frustration, wanted to rape this hot cop bitch who held me captive, wanted to stab her to death with my hot, throbbing cock...all I did was whimper "Oh God, Kate...Oh God...Oh my God..." "Does it feel better now?" she asked and laughed a deep, animal laugh. She slowly licked my cum from her hand. "You taste delicious, slave," she purred. "I'll have to have more....but later." She bent then, lowering her lips to mine, her tongue exploring the inside of my mouth. I could taste my own salty juices in her mouth and could smell the musky scent of my cum on her breath. My mind began to slip...I was driven slowly to the brink of sexual insanity by this taunting, teasing police officer! She broke the kiss long before I wanted her to. I closed my eyes and savored the kiss, committing it to memory forever. Opening my eyes again, I looked down my body and saw her face in the vicinity of my still hard cock. "Oh, look," she whispered sensually, "you've spilled some of your sweet cum." I could feel her hot breath on my cock and balls as she spoke. "Would my slave like me to clean him up?" she asked teasingly. "Y-yesssss, please do." There was an aching, genuinely urgent tone in my voice. "Do you think you deserve to be cleaned? Do you think you've been a good slave, darling John?" Her voice was teasing, taunting, driving me wild with desire and a deep, yawning urge to bury my hot cock into any opening she might offer. "I've tried to be good, Mistress," I said timidly, not looking at her. As much as I tried to hold on to my masculinity, I failed. I really had become this incredibly sexy vixen's slave. At that moment, I knew I would do anything she asked. I'd do it gladly if it meant sampling her charms. Every nerve ending in my body was on a razor's edge...her slightest touch, anywhere on my body, sent waves of tingles and goose flesh racing throughout my entire being. "Look at me, slave," she commanded. I looked into her sparkling hazel eyes and became lost in a place I never wanted to escape from. I felt as if I were falling into transparent pools of hazel-colored liquid....if she didn't speak soon, I knew I would drown. At the last possible second, her voice pulled me out of her liquid eyes, saving me from being trapped there for eternity. "Yes," she said slowly, "you have been a good slave, an obedient and tasty slave. You have earned another reward. I will let it be one of your own choosing. How would you like to be cleaned up, slave?" My mind raced with the possibilities. I wanted my cock deep in her inviting pussy....I also wanted to feel it slide deep into her throat...I wanted to stuff its entire, throbbing length into her ass, too. I was so consumed with desire for this creature, I couldn't speak. "Quickly, slave," she purred, "what part of your Mistress do you want me to clean your beautiful cock and balls with?" "It's not a slave's place to choose, Mistress." It was as if someone else had spoken with my voice. I'd been given the chance to let my cock explore any part of this luscious body I desired, and I actually said it wasn't my place to choose! "Ahhh, my sweet, sexy John slave." She was using that sexy voice of hers. "You are indeed the perfect slave. You pass each test I give you." With that, she lowered her head and cleaned the cum from my cock and balls with her luxuriously thick auburn hair. She wrapped my rigid cock in it and slowly moved it from the base of my shaft to the tip of its head. It was like pushing my cock through a silken tube....the sensation was so intense I nearly came again. I gasped from the pure pleasure of it. I had never imagined, in my wildest fantasies, that a woman's hair could feel so good! When she finally finished cleaning me and lifted her head, I could see streaks of her hair stuck wetly together with my creamy cum. "We're going to have some fun now, slave." She left the bunk and bent over a carry bag she had brought with her. Again, she bent at the waist, knees straight, giving me a direct view of her glorious pussy trapped beneath her lacy panties. She took her time rummaging through the bag, all the while shifting her weight from one leg to the other. The movement beneath her panties was driving me even deeper into the depths of sexual desire....and she knew it! At long last, she stood up and turned to face me. In one hand, she held a small, penis-shaped vibrator, in the other was a string of ten wooden beads, each a quarter of an inch in diameter and spaced two inches apart on the string. I had heard stories of the beads and how they were used, but I had never experienced it...my blood raced at the thought. She approached slowly, her hips undulating, her weapons in her hands, a wide smile on her face. She laid her weapons at the foot of the bed between my legs. Then she removed the pillow from beneath my head. "Lift your ass," she commanded. I obeyed. She doubled the pillow and placed it beneath my ass. "Relax," she said. I tried. She retrieved her weapons and positioned herself between my legs. She switched on the vibrator and put its tip at the base of my scrotum and moved it slowly upward. The sensations made my cock jump and wobble uncontrollably. After a few minutes, she moved it to the base of my cock and held it there. She lowered her head then, and I could feel her warm, wet tongue licking my ass and poking at my hole. Moaning sounds were coming from deep within her as she continued to lubricate my asshole with her warm saliva. I jerked my hips upward and tightened my ass muscles when she attempted to insert the first wooden bead. She raised her head and stared at me with those bewitching eyes. "Relax, John," she commanded softly, compassionately, sensually. "Your Mistress wants you to feel pleasure, not pain." "Oh God," was all I could manage to moan. She lowered her head again. I loosened my muscles as best I could, and felt the first of ten beads being pushed gently into my ass by this wildly erotic animal that held me captive. "Oooooooh GOD!" I moaned....and with each of the ten beads she inserted, I moaned the same phrase. "How do you feel?" she asked when she had completed her task. "Full," I said, "it feels so, so strange." I was breathing heavily. "Don't worry, John. Just relax your muscles, you'll enjoy it so much more." With all the effort I could manage, I concentrated on relaxing. As I became more and more relaxed, that strange feeling left me, and I felt less full. The sensation actually became pleasant. "Yes, John. That's much better," she purred soothingly. She put the buzzing vibrator back on my scrotum and rotated it in tiny circles. Her other hand grasped my throbbing shaft and held it steady. Then she lowered her head and probed the tiny opening in the head of my cock with her hot tongue. Indescribable sensations shot down the length of my tortured cock and raced through my body like an avalanche! "I'm going to make you cum in my mouth," she said, moving her head away from my eager cock. "But I promise you one thing, you'll experience ecstasy you never thought possible before you do!" I had already experienced ecstasy of the magnitude she described, and she hadn't really done anything to me, yet. All of her, her body, her eyes, her voice, her taunting and teasing were driving me insane with passion. I wanted to deposit a hot load of liquid deep within her luscious body, and I didn't care where! My hips jerked spasmodically when I felt the hot wetness of her mouth close around the head of my cock .... she was still working the vibrator in tight circles on my scrotum, her other hand rhythmically squeezing my shaft. Her tongue began moving back and forth across the opening in my cock .... slowly at first, then faster and faster. In a desperate effort to get more of myself inside her, I pushed upward. She immediately stopped all activity and sat upright, staring at me with her hypnotic eyes .... my steel-hard cock was left bobbing in the air like a drunken sailor, the skin on its head hot, purple and tight in anticipation. "Oooooh GOD! Kate, Mistress .... please, don't torture me this way. I don't know how much longer I can stand it!" My head tossed from side to side as I spoke. The pressure of the hot fluids trapped inside my body was becoming painful. I felt if I didn't cum soon, I would explode, flooding the insides of my own body with juices. "Don't?" She asked with authority. "Did my slave actually say 'don't' to me?" She laughed a wicked little laugh, "Dear slave, you don't understand, do you? You are MY slave, I AM your Mistress. I will decide what I will and will not do, not you. Your only purpose for being tonight is to make me happy. Do you understand?" "Y-yes, Kate," I said sheepishly, "I will do as you say, it's just that you're driving me crazy .... I can't help it, I just want to feel all of me deep inside you." "Let me hear you beg for it, slave," she said tauntingly, eyes flashing, then she licked the underside of my throbbing shaft from base to tip. "OH GOD!" I moaned, my body jerking in response to her tongue. "You are the perfect Mistress." I was gasping for breath, barely getting the words out. "You are fair in your punishment and compassionate in your judgment. Please, Mistress, I beg of you, have compassion for this unworthy servant .... I exist only to give you pleasure ....""Ummmmm please, allow my fevered and eager cock to explore the depths of your throat ... Oh God, Kate, allow this pitiful slave to provide you with a warm drink of sweet juices to soothe your burning throat .... please, Kate, I only want to please you ...." "Oooooh slave!" She purred, her eyes softening with compassion and just a hint of eagerness. "You have begged so eloquently, how can I possibly refuse? Besides, I am anxious to taste your cum again. I have decided to grant your request." She put the vibrator back on my scrotum and quickly slid her hot mouth down the full length of my tormented cock, enclosing it in a moist, velvety sheath that clung to the contours of my shaft and head like a glove. "Aaaaagggghhhh!" I moaned as the head of my pulsing tube came to rest at the back of her throat, her soft lips applying scintillating pressure on the base of my shaft, her silken tongue moving back and forth on the underside of my cock. Her tongue was picking up and transmitting the tingling vibration from the machine pressing against my balls. "OH MY GOD! I-I CAN'T STAND IT ... IT FEELS SOOOOO WONDERFUL!" I was moaning and whimpering now, buried to the hilt in her tight throat ... I thought I was going to die! She began a slow, steady up and down movement with her head, animal sounds of her own mingling with mine. My burning cock slid out to the head then back into that tight sheath to the base of her throat .... faster and faster she moved .... my head tossing from side to side .... eyes squeezed tightly shut .... sparks of sexual fire exploding in my brain and showering my entire body with hot pin pricks of sensual sensation .... she continued moving her head up and down .... the pleasure she and the vibrator were giving went far past the concept of "normal". So intense was the pleasure, it bordered on the threshold of pain .... the mechanism in my body that triggers orgasm was frozen solid .... I was lost in a galaxy of pleasure and pain .... without orgasm there could be no way out! I can't be sure how long she kept it up. But, if she kept doing what she was doing I knew the exhilarating intensity of sensation would never let me cum. She must have read my mind or my cock or both because she slowed her pace and began working her magic mouth on the head only, her free hand gripping my shaft and jacking me off in perfect time with her mouth. As suddenly as she had shifted technique, a whole different wave of sensations rolled in and crashed over my tingling body. The first warnings of a 10.2 earthquake began rocking my body, it's epicenter at my throbbing cock. The major quake shot throughout my body .... stream after stream of hot cum rocketed into her hungry mouth. "OOOOOOH SHIIIIIT!" I screamed, thrusting my hips off the pillow. She took all of the first load, moaning and making animal sounds .... then she grabbed the string sticking out of my ass and pulled the first wooden bead across my prostate..... "OH! OH! OOOOOH MY GOD!" I was screaming in surprise as an aftershock coursed through my cock producing a second orgasm and a second flood of hot liquid .... she captured it in her mouth and gulped it down .... another pull on the string, another aftershock, another orgasm, more cum than I ever thought I was capable of producing .... my eyes were wide open, not seeing .... my body arched off the pillow .... frozen like a statue .... my mouth wide and working .... no sound coming out .... Still another bead exploding my insides with sensation, draining me of fluid and still her mouth worked feverishly on my erupting cock, sucking out the creamy liquid .... tongue swirling .... urging me to produce more! I came 11 times in the space of two minutes .... it seemed like an eternity, each bead worked its magic on my prostate, each pass producing an intense, cum gushing orgasm! After the last orgasm my body remained frozen in that arched position, the head of my drained cock still trapped in her mouth .... still pulsating with frequent, non-orgasmic aftershocks .... she slowly inserted the vibrator in my ass .... my entire body began to shudder and collapsed on the bed, quivering and shaking out of control. I was gasping for breath, trying to gain control of my body .... "Oh fuck it!" I thought and gave myself to the sensations controlling me. "Oooooh slave! You have given me a wonderful treat .... my thirst is quenched! But my pussy and my ass need a drink, too!" "Noooooo .... " I protested weakly. My mind was telling me my body was exhausted .... drained .... used up. "Yessss," she purred, "but not until you've rested." She took a washcloth from her bag and held it under cold water from the sink. She wrung it out and, lifting my limp cock delicately with her fingers, placed the cool, damp cloth on my feverish balls. Then she released my cock and pulled the remainder of the cloth over it. "Aaaaahhh," I sighed, my breathing beginning to return to normal, "that feels wonderful." She reached back into her goody bag and pulled out a banana. Sitting beside me on the bunk, she peeled it slowly. Everything she did had an air of sensuality. She tossed the peel in the corner and held the fruit up delicately in front of my face. "We must have nourishment." She said and moved the end of the banana toward her parted lips. She licked it from mid-way to the tip and let the end slip slowly into her mouth. In the deepest, most remote places of my being, I felt a weak sexual stirring begin. "Ummmmm." She sighed, biting off the tip of the fruit. I watched in fascination as she chewed and then swallowed it. "It's good slave, but not as delicious as you!" She laid the banana on my chest and took her panties off, teasingly, sensu-ally. The sight of her full, beautiful bush made my heart skip a beat .... I couldn't take my eyes away from it. "You like my pussy slave?" She asked tauntingly. She spread pink and inviting clit lay nestled in her flesh like a precious cultured pearl. Further down the entrance to paradise lay invitingly open. "Would you like to fuck me slave?" Her eyes were sparkling again and she began slowly rotating her hips, teasing me with her waiting pink flesh. "Would you like to put your cock deep in my hot, wet pussy slave?" "OH GOD YES!" My eyes were wide, my throat dry, the sexual stirring I felt moments before becoming a tornado of destructive passion and yearning. I felt my balls moving inside my sack and my limp meat was beginning to stiffen again. "Perhaps .... perhaps not!" She laughed deep in her throat, fanning the fires she had started deep within me. She turned the banana around and placed the unbitten end against the entrance to paradise. Leaning back slightly, she pushed the fruit slowly into her pussy. I watched in a hypnotic trance as the fruit slid inch by agonizing inch into her moist opening. After pushing it almost all the way in, she withdrew it, then pushed it in again, then withdrew it all the way. She brought the fruit toward my face, her woman scent mixed with the smell of the banana made my mouth water. I opened my mouth wide in anticipation of this delightful treat. She did not disappoint me .... I took a big bite, savoring the mixed flavors. She fed me the rest of the most delicious fruit I'd ever tasted. I knew deep inside I'd never be able to look at a banana again without reliving these moments. Back in her goodie bag again, she took out a can of whipped cream. Shaking the can, she spread her legs once again and sprayed her entire bush with the fluffy white topping. "Time for dessert." She purred and put one knee on each side of my head, her cream-soaked pussy hovering above my mouth. "Bon appétit." She said and lowered that savory treat to my mouth. She didn't have to tell me what to do next. Starting at the entrance to paradise, I licked the cream from her treasures .... she rocked her hips back and forth to help me, breathing heavily, moaning and sighing. I licked and slurped and sucked the delicious stuff from between her pussy lips, from the sides of her legs and her bush. Another food I would never look at in quite the same way again! As the sweet treat vanished, I concentrated my efforts on her clit. She pressed harder against my mouth, rocking faster and moaning louder. "Ummmmm .... yes slave." She sighed, breathing faster. "Eat my pussy, Ooooooh ... take my clit in your teeth, that's it .... Oh God Yes! Bite it yes yes YEESSSSS .... a little harder .... Oooooh Yeah .... now put your tongue in my hole .... Oooooooo Ummmmmmm .... yes slave!" She was rocking faster moving her sweet wet pussy back and forth across my face, her nipples erect and rolling them back and forth between her fingers. Her head was thrown back and she began whimpering and moaning louder. The fire that had begun in my loins was now raging out of control and spread to other parts of my body .... my cock had once again become hard as steel. "Oooooh Oooooh Oooooh Oooooh slave!" She was beginning to scream in ecstasy .... I could feel her thighs quivering against the sides of my head as she moved her pussy ever faster across my tongue. She was grinding that magnificent cunt down into my mouth now .... each time her clit came over my tongue, her thighs jerked and I tried to capture that elusive bud and suck on it, but nothing would stop the rocking, grinding motion she had begun with her hips. "YES YES YES YES!" She chanted, rocking still faster. "OOOH GOD! OOOH GOD! OOOOOOOOO YEEEEESSSSS!" She was breathing wildly now, her chest heaving with the labor .... her thighs began jerking uncontrollably ... she moved her hands from her breasts to my head. Taking a handful of my hair with each hand she pulled my face harder into her soaking wet crotch ....Suddenly, she stopped rocking, her entire body quivering. She ground her pussy into my face in tiny rotating circles, pulling my face still harder into her crotch with her hands. I captured her throbbing clit and closed my lips around it, applying all the suction I could manage and, at the same time, nibbling and flicking it with my tongue as hard as I could. The quivering in her body turned to a shudder, and a loud, shrieking scream tore from her throat. Her hips were grinding in small circles hard against my face, forcing her hot, wet pussy even tighter to my hungry mouth. She was climbing to the peak of an orgasmic mountain, and I was doing all I could to help her reach the top. At the peak of her orgasm, she ceased all movement, except for her clit. I could feel it pulsating in my mouth, and I continued to nibble and run my tongue roughly across its tip. Suddenly, the scream coming from her throat was cut off, and the shuddering in her body became a heaving of all her muscles. Her clit still pulsated and throbbed in climax! She was holding her breath, her muscles tensing like those of a predator cat ready to pounce, and her clit throbbed and pulsated between my lips. We were frozen in time like models for a still life artist, with the only movement being her clit and my tongue. She had reached the peak of the orgasmic mountain and was taking her sweet time, enjoying the sensations at the top. Finally, she began to descend the other side. She finished the scream, her chest began heaving again as she desperately sucked in life-giving oxygen, and her body began shuddering again. Her hips began rocking back and forth wildly, and her clit continued to throb as it swept past my tongue. She was taking a roller coaster ride, and I had to hang on and take the ride with her. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, all her movement began to slow. The closer she got to the base of the mountain, the slower she moved. Sigh after deep, satisfied sigh came out of her, and her hips slowed to a halt, her clit resting directly on my tongue. It was no longer throbbing. I licked it gently, and she began purring like a cat, running her fingers through my hair and soothing the places she had pulled so hard just moments before. "Ummmmmmmmm," she sighed dreamily. "John, that was wonderful." The masterful tone in her voice had vanished, replaced by the voice of a soft, sensual woman who had set out on an adventure in mountain climbing, had succeeded, and was now relaxing in front of a cozy fire in a snowed-in lodge. "God! Your mouth is fantastic, lover," she purred, then sighed heavily in contentment. "Unghflnnnfggh," I replied, her pussy still resting sweetly on my mouth. "Oops, sorry!" She laughed and climbed off my face. She stretched out next to me on the bunk, her body pressing close to mine, her fingers making little curls with the hair on my chest. She was looking dreamily into my eyes, her own eyes soft and feeling. They had lost the sparkle of the Mistress who held me captive and taken on the look of the eyes of a captured dove. She ran her hand down my chest and across my stomach to my cock. She stroked its head gently with her fingers, then gripped it and squeezed lightly, sending shivers through my body. As she squeezed my cock, she moved her face close to mine, her eyes searching mine. She lowered her lips to mine in a long, passionate, deep French kiss, her tongue seeking out mine and playing tag with it, little moaning sounds coming from her throat. "Oh God!" she said, her lips still on mine, speaking directly into my mouth, "I want your hard, beautiful cock in my pussy. I want to feel it fill me. I want it to explode inside of me and flood me with your hot, wonderful cum." She moaned a long, sensual moan into my mouth, and I could feel the vibrations of it on my lips. Her hand began squeezing my cock tighter and moving slowly up and down the shaft, moving down to my balls and beginning to massage them gently, cupping them and scratching the bottom of my sack with her nails, gently squeezing them. She pressed her mouth tighter against mine and resumed the passionate kiss of seconds before, all the while doing miraculous things to my genitals with her talented fingers. "Ooooooh," she purred, "Do you want to fuck me, John? Do you want to feel yourself deep inside me?" Her breathing was becoming more rapid, as was my own. "Do you want to feel my pussy squeeze your beautiful cock until you can't stand it anymore? Do you want to feel your hot cum spurt deep inside me? Oh God... PLEASE TELL me the passion of wanting to bury my cock deep inside her." "Oh God Yes!" She moaned, "SO DO I!" She got the whipped cream can and began shaking it. When it was ready, she put the nozzle at the base of my rigid cock and made a complete circle of the sweet cream from the base of my cock to the top. It looked like I had a hard, whipped cream cock protruding from my body. "Ooooooh," she sighed, "just looking at that makes my pussy hungry!" She positioned herself over my whipped cream cock, one leg on each side of my hips, facing me. Slowly, she lowered herself until the creamy head of my swollen cock barely touched her pussy lips. She was breathing heavily now, looking down between her legs to position her juicy pussy just right. When the head of my cock was in just the right position, she lowered her hips a little more, forcing the head of my cock between the hungry, waiting lips of her unbelievably hot cunt. She locked onto my eyes with her own. I held my breath in anticipation, afraid to move for fear she would revert to the slave Mistress and stop. "Oooooh God! I've been waiting for this all night!" She moaned, still suspended above me, just the head of my cock inside her. I wanted to scream and thrust upward, wanted to shout "ME TOO! SIT DOWN FOR GOD'S SAKE! COVER MY COCK WITH YOUR HOT PUSSY!" But I didn't. I just held my breath, hoping she would slide down my waiting pole. I didn't have to wait too long. Very slowly, she allowed my cock to slip into her hot, hungry pussy. I wanted to thrust, I wanted to scream, I WANTED TO BURY IT TO THE HILT! The whipped cream was beginning to melt from the heat of our bodies. I could feel it sliding down my cock, over my balls and into the crack of my ass. It was exciting, using the whipped cream for a lubricant, not that her pussy needed lubricating - it was soaking wet all on its own. Still, the thought was erotic and more than just a little stimulating. My cock was about a fourth of the way in. She was squirming and panting and whimpering. Her thighs were beginning to shake from the strain of lowering herself so slowly and from anticipation. "Ummmmmm... God that feels great!" She purred, still moving slowly down my rigid cock. One third the way in now, we were both moaning and panting. Half way in, she began to chant "Ooooh Baby! Ooooh Baby! Ooooh Baby!" Two-thirds of my throbbing cock was now out of sight, concealed within the walls of her tight love tunnel. I couldn't contain myself any longer. "OH GOD, KATE! PLEASE, BURY MY COCK ALL THE WAY! I CAN'T STAND IT... OOOOHHHH MY GOD!" Apparently, she couldn't stand it any longer either. Without warning, she slammed her hips down, taking my entire cock in one swift motion. "OH!" She squealed with delight, "Ummmmmmmm, that's wonderful." She purred, sitting absolutely still, my cock completely and totally buried inside her. At the moment she sat down on my cock, the breath escaped my lungs, and I shouted, "HOLY SHIT! OOOOH GOD YESSSS!" Still motionless on top of me, she began rhythmically contracting and relaxing the muscles inside her hungry pussy. Each time she contracted those wonderful muscles, squeezing my cock, I would tighten my sphincter and expand the head of my cock to its fullest size. We played expand and contract for what seemed like hours, our eyes locked on one another, just feeling the sensations and being one with each other. "Oooohhh slave," she whispered sexily, "you have a very talented cock. Does it like being in my pussy?" "Yes, yes, Mistress! It wants to please you and fill you with its hot load of white liquid." "My pussy can hardly wait!" She sighed and began rocking back and forth with her hips. The motion bent my rigid pole back and forth, moving it only slightly inside her. Her head was back, and she cupped her breasts with her hands, squeezing them as she continued to rock back and forth on my burning cock. After a while, she leaned forward, pressing her breasts against my hairy and heaving chest. Her lips found mine, and we kissed passionately. I longed for my hands to be free so I could fondle her breasts and grab her ass cheeks. While she lay on my chest, I began a slow thrusting motion with my hips, driving my cock slowly in and out of the hot, velvety tunnel that held it prisoner. She began moaning softly into my mouth, and I into hers, our tongues still locked in a battle for dominance. As I thrust in and out of her hot pussy, she began moving her hips from side to side. Her motion combined with mine caused my thrusting cock to scrape one side lining of her tight love tunnel, then the other. It was a completely new sensation to me, and it was bringing me to the base of my own orgasmic mountain! "Ahhhh yes, fuck me baby!" She moaned into my mouth. "Ram that hard cock into me... deeper, Oooooh yes, that's it... it feels so wonderful I want you to push it all the way through me!" The way she moaned those words of passion directly into my mouth was helping me, pushing me, to the first ledge of my mountain. The silky wet walls of her pussy were working wonders on the sensitive head of my pulsing cock! "God, baby, you're sooo good! So tight... so hot... so wet!" I breathed the words into her mouth.She put her hands on my chest and pushed herself to an upright position and, using the muscles in her legs, began lifting herself up and down on my rigid cock. Faster and faster she went, like a novice rider on a galloping horse. With each bounce, my throbbing [member] whimpered, and I sighed "OH GOD! OH GOD!" Faster and faster she bounced, tossing her head from side to side, beginning a low-volume chant of "FUCK ME! FUCK ME! FUCK ME!" That became louder the faster she moved. She was moving at a furious pace now, with each downward plunge she made, little bits of whipped cream splashed out from between us, covering my chest and her inner thighs. "OOOOOHHHH GOD YES!" She screamed, reaching a quick and violent orgasm that made her body shudder. As she came, I began thrusting my hips upward and letting them fall, then up again, lifting her weight, helping her fuck herself into oblivion. "CUM CUM CUM.... YES YES YES.... OOOH OOOH OOOH" she was screaming as orgasmic sensations raced through her body. When her orgasm subsided, she slowed her pace until she came to a stop, sitting on my still rock-hard cock. My hips were squirming beneath her in passion, my own moaning and whimpering becoming louder.... "Ohhhhh noooo, please, don't stop now..... Oh God...." "Don't worry, lover, we're not through yet," she purred. Then she stretched her legs out in front of her and rotated her body so her back was to my face. Never once coming close to losing the cock buried deep in her hot pussy. The sensation of her turning sent a chill through my entire body! She reached down between my legs and began raking her fingernails along the underside of my balls. "OOOOOHHHH SHIIIIT!" I cried out in total surprise at both what she was doing and the sensations it caused. Her knees under her once again, she began that slow up and down movement with her body. Every few strokes, she would pause with my cock almost all the way out, then move her hips from side to side and slowly slide back down over my hard and hot cock, all the while scratching and squeezing and massaging my balls gently, seductively. My breathing became more rapid as I quickly approached the second ledge on my orgasmic mountain! I felt lost on that mountain and was thankful to have a guide like her showing me the way to the top! "Yes baby, fill me with that hot cock of yours!" She moaned, "I love it deep inside me.... Ooooh yes, it fills me up soooo much.... I want your cum to wash every bit of my pussy.... I want to feel it splashing hot against my walls.... I want to hear you moan as your cum gushes out of your hot cock and floods deep into me.... Ummmmmm!" Her words were making my cock even harder than it was.... I didn't know how that could be possible, but it was happening. She worked her body feverishly on my erect pole, speeding up her pace, then slowing down.... shifting positions slightly, each time bringing me to new heights of ecstasy.... and all the while stroking, scratching and squeezing my balls. In the next half hour, she came twice, each more powerful than the one before. With each orgasm, her fingernails dug into the flesh of my thighs and her screams of passion pierced the very essence of my soul. Tiny beads of sweat had broken out on her body, and her breathing was becoming labored. Still, she continued, working her wet pussy all over my throbbing hot cock. As she was approaching her fourth orgasm, her buildup to it was so raw, so animalistic that my balls began to tingle wildly. The first warning that I was approaching the peak of my mountain. She pumped so hard and so fast, and squeezed my cock with her pussy so tightly, I began to go insane with passion. With each foot of height I gained on my upward climb, she matched me in intensity and abandonment. We both began grunting and moaning, pounding our genitals together mercilessly. My legs began to go numb as the tingling spread throughout my body. I could feel my balls swell slightly prior to releasing their heavy load. At that instant, I thought it would be impossible for either of us to get any more wild than we were.... I was wrong! As we approached orgasm, her hand pulled my ball sack gently, the other drew blood from my thigh. We were both screaming between labored breaths.... our bodies writhing wildly, trying to tear one another apart with pure animal lust. As my heavy balls exploded their load through my seminal vesicles, I thrust upward with all my strength, burying my spurting cock deeper into her greedy pussy than it had ever been. She screamed in a mixture of pain and pleasure and ground her hips downward, impaling her pulsating pussy even further on my exploding cock. It's hard to describe the sounds, the sensations, the movements of our bodies and the punishment we inflicted on one another during our simultaneous orgasm. I only know her screams of passion were equal to my own, the intensity of her orgasm matched by mine, and the pure animal lust that flooded over us was shared equally. I don't know how long we were lost in the throes of orgasmic ecstasy.... it just seemed to go on and on.... I felt as if every ounce of fluid was being sucked from my entire body by her gripping, hungry pussy. My balls were so drained they began to ache, and still our bodies were tangled and thrusting in an animalistic frenzy, each attempting to best the other. I wanted to be lost in this wild abandon forever.... to be washed away in a flood. I'm not sure quite how it ended. All I remember is our bodies collapsing in an exhausted heap. My cock was still deep within her, but there was no feeling, no sensation. Her fabulous pussy had literally stripped the nerve endings from my body and devoured them. There was more deliriously sensual sex between us that night. We came again and again.... she used the beads on me twice more that I can remember.... it could have been more. I never dreamed I could cum so many times in such a short span of time, but her body and imagination did things to me that had never been done to me before. I remember at about three in the morning, she released me from my bonds. We experimented with every imaginable position.... before we were finished, my cock had explored every possible opening in her body and deposited its creamy cargo within them all. At six o'clock, a travel alarm in her goody bag went off. At the time, we lay exhausted in one another's arms, caressing and frenching deeply, passionately. "Oh damn," she muttered at the sound of the alarm and got up to turn it off. "Well, John, slave, lover. Your sentence has been carried out, and I hereby set you free." We dressed in silence. She in her uniform, me in my jeans and sweatshirt. I didn't want this wild sexual animal to walk out of my life, but I didn't know what to say. "Would you like to come home with me? I'll make you a great breakfast," she must have read my mind. "I'd love to, Kate," I said softly. She took me to my car, and I followed her home. As she put her key in the front door, it swung open, a stunning brunette standing in the doorway. "John," Kate said, "I'd like you to meet my roommate Kimberly." "Hi, Kimberly," I said, my hand on Kate's ass. "Oooooh Hi John," she purred, her deep green eyes sparkling with sexual energy. Kate gave me a seductive little wink, a huge smile on her face.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/8905.txt

Ann Douglas

Deja Vu

"Oh grandmother, I still can't believe it!" The young blonde-haired woman exclaimed as she gushed with excitement. "Two days from now I'm going to be in Europe." "Well, it's nothing that you don't deserve," The older woman smiled back. "I'm very proud of you, and all that you've accomplished." "I don't think Mother would agree with you on that," Jenny D'Angelo replied. "She thinks the entire trip is a colossal waste of money." "Your mother thinks everything is a waste of money," Connie D'Angelo laughed. "And besides, it's my money that's paying for this trip, so she doesn't have anything to complain about." With that, Jenny joined in the laughter. She knew she really shouldn't be enjoying a joke at her mother's expense, but she couldn't help it. In many ways, Connie had always been closer to her than her mother. Despite the 38 years separating them, they were more like girlfriends than family. The trip to Europe had been Connie's idea. She had been so impressed when Jenny graduated from high school a year early and then gained acceptance to an Ivy League college. In addition to covering all the expenses for three months on the continent, Connie was also buying Jenny a new wardrobe for the trip. Between the two of them, they had two shopping bags full. The rest of what they had bought would be delivered to Connie's tomorrow. Knowing her daughter-in-law would have something to say about all the new clothes, Connie had wisely put her own address on the deliveries. "It's still early, what say we head over to Kou-feng's for lunch," Connie suggested. "Great," Jenny responded. "But only if you let me treat you this time." "All right," was the reply. An hour and a half later, the two women had lunch behind them and were headed down Main Street. Along the way, both women turned men's heads. An action that they both took so much for granted that neither gave it much thought. Jenny was 5'5", with long blonde hair that ran to the midpoint of her back. Deeply tanned, she wore a pretty yellow blouse and a short blue skirt. A firm set of breasts pressed against the yellow material, highlighting a youthful, athletic figure. She had been on the gymnastics team in school and all the hours spent practicing were self-evident. Standing a few inches taller than her granddaughter, Connie long ago gave up trying to keep a slim figure. Instead, she had concentrated on keeping her body firm and hard. Extra pounds she may have gained over the years, but very little of it was fat. She worked out as much as she could, maintaining a form that most women her age could only envy. Blessed with a more than full-figured bust when still in her teens, she couldn't defy the long-term effects of the laws of gravity. But no one said that she had to submit to them without a fight. What gray that dared appeared in her hair was banished by frequent trips to her hairdressers. Connie wanted to put as much as she could into this last day she would spend with her beloved granddaughter. She was really going to miss Jenny, but glad she was able to give her the opportunity to travel. She had considered going along with her, but eventually rejected the idea. Better Jenny go with the other girls from her school. It would be a better experience letting her be on her own. It had taken all her authority as the matriarch of the D'Angelo family to get Jenny's parents to agree to the trip. Stephen, her son, had been more than willing to let Jenny go. He had a great deal of faith in his daughter and knew that he could trust her accordingly. Stephen's wife Barbara, on the other hand, had been opposed to the trip from day one. It was a waste of money, she'd said. A young girl couldn't be trusted out on her own. Why, when she was her age... Connie remembered all too well what Barbara, or Babs as she liked to be called then, was like at that age. She was a simple-minded blonde airhead that more than lived up to the stereotype. She was, Connie believed, her son's one great mistake in his life. Try as she could, Connie had been unable to keep him from being swayed by a pretty face and a big set of boobs. Nothing that could have come out of her mouth was going to carry more weight than the things Babs was doing with hers. "I've copied down all the places you told me to see," Jenny said as they crossed the intersection. "Sometimes I wish you were going with me." "We've already gone over that," Connie said as she stepped onto the curb. "You'll have a much better time with your friends," She added, wondering if she really believed that. "Hey Jenny, Jenny D'Angelo!" Said a strong masculine voice from the right of the two women. Jenny turned around and saw the tall dark-haired young man who had called her. He stood about 6'1" and had short curly black hair. The muscles of his chest and arms were highly defined, and it was obvious that he took exercise seriously. The blue T-shirt he wore clung to him like a second skin. Legs as well developed as his arms stretched out from a pair of red shorts. "Hi Jenny," He repeated. "Jack!" The girl exclaimed as she jumped forward and gave him a sisterly hug. "When did you get back?" "Last week, I'm staying at my mom's," Jack answered. "It's so good to see you again," Jenny continued, her eyes never leaving his face. "You too," He replied. "I heard how you graduated a year early. I knew you could do it." "Thanks," Jenny beamed. "So what are you doing now?" "Football scholarship at State," Jack answered. "But I still need to work during the summer to cover some of the extras," He added as he handed her one of the flyers he had been passing out. A quiet cough from behind Jenny reminded her of her grandmother's presence. Slightly red at her oversight, she turned and introduced her. "Grandmother, this is Jack Marziatto," She said. "Jack, this is my grandmother, Connie D'Angelo. "Jack and I both went to school together, he graduated last year," She continued. "That's something that your granddaughter deserves most of the credit for," Jack interjected. "If not for her tutoring, I'd have been in the fifth year of high school instead of the freshman year at State." "You passed the exams," Jenny laughed. "I just helped you study." "Marziatto, I used to know a Marziatto family a long time ago," Connie said as she looked at the young man's face, a strange look on her own. "They lived over on 10th Street." "That would've been my grandparents," Jack answered. "They moved over to Bakersville in the early sixties. My parents moved back here about ten years ago when I was 9." "Come to think of it, I only remember the Marziatto's having four daughters," Connie remarked. "How could you have the same last name?" "Well, that's a little piece of the family skeleton," Jack replied, the humor in his voice showing that he had no problem dismissing the long-ago scandal as anything but ancient history. "Grandma got divorced after being married about five years. It was such a messy divorce that she had both her son's names legally changed to Marziatto." "And your grandfather was?" Connie asked, a look of anticipation on her face. "Johnny Coravelli," He replied. "Why, did you know him too?"Connie's face now went pale as all the blood seemed to drain from it. She felt dizzy for a second and had to take a moment to compose herself. "Grandmother!" Jenny called out as she saw her stagger for a moment. "I'm OK," she lied. "Just felt dizzy for a moment. Getting old can be a real bitch at times." She added with a laugh. "I'm sorry, Jack." She said as she took a deep breath and regained control of herself. "You were saying?" "His name was Johnny Coravelli." He repeated. "In fact, I was named for him. My dad didn't share grandma's aversion to his memory. Did you know him?" "I'm sorry, but the name doesn't ring a bell." The older woman said. "It was a very long time ago after all." "I guess so." Jack said. "I'm sure if you'd known him, you'd remember. He was a musician. My dad told me he was quite a character. Always getting into some kind of trouble or another. I met him a few times a couple of years ago. That really set off grandma. I can still hear her going on about what a good-for-nothing he was. Then, when he got me a tattoo for my 16th birthday, she really went through the roof." "He got you a tattoo?" Jenny gasped. "Just a little one." Jack said as he pushed up the left sleeve of his shirt, revealing a small blue shark on his upper biceps. "He had one just like it." "He must've been quite a character indeed." Connie remarked as she stared at the tattoo, trying to sound dispassionate. "That he was. It's a pity he passed away last year. He was only 57. The doctor said it was too many years of abusing his body with one thing or another." "Well, it's good to see that you don't take after him in that respect." Connie noted, taking another long good look at the young man. "No, I try to take care of myself." He answered. "But that's way too much about me." Jack concluded as he turned to Jenny. "What about you, what have you been doing?" Connie didn't seem to hear as Jenny told Jack all about her impending trip to Europe and how she would be going away to college in the fall. The older woman's attention was riveted on the muscular young man. She seemed to be studying every feature of his face, something she hadn't done in a long, long time. "I guess I've kept you much too long." Jack finally said. With that, Connie finally snapped back to her surroundings. "You must have a lot of things to do before your trip and I've got to get back to handing these things out." He concluded as he indicated the pile of flyers in his hand. Connie took one of the flyers and glanced at it. It was an advertisement for a small group of college boys, calling themselves, Jocks Inc., who hired themselves out to do odd jobs over the summer. She recognized the masthead, she had hired two of them last year to paint the guest house. It was a good way for them to raise money for school. With a smile and a wave, Jenny said good-bye. Soon they reached the parking lot where they had left Connie's car. After storing the bags in the trunk, Connie slid behind the wheel. No sooner had they pulled out into traffic when Connie turned to her granddaughter. "A really nice young man." She remarked. "Very good looking too. Are you sure all you did was tutor him?" "Well...we did go out a few times." Jenny admitted. "But nothing really came of it." "Did you sleep with him?" Connie asked nonchalantly. "Grandmother!" Jenny shot back in a mixture of mock anger and surprise. It wasn't that Connie had asked if she had sexual relations that surprised Jenny. It was that she had asked about if she had done it with someone specific. Something she had never done before. After all, it had been Connie that she had come to last year when she had decided that she was old enough to make that decision on her own. Knowing that Barbara's attitude on the subject was, "Well if she's going to do it, what can I do about it", Connie again took her mother's place. She'd sat Jenny down and explained to her the pros and cons of being sexually active. Of how she thought she had all the answers when she was Jenny's age, when in reality she had been very ignorant. It didn't take a mathematical genius to figure out that Jenny's father had been born six months after the wedding. That all said, she had made an appointment for her at one of the best Gynecologists in town and had the doctor help her choose the best form of birth control for her. "Oh, Jack and I made out all right." She finally replied, enjoying the ease she could talk to her grandmother about anything. "But in the end, we decided that sleeping together wouldn't be the right thing to do. I'm really not looking for just a good fuck, I want there to be something more between us. Jack was enough of a friend to understand that. I mean, I'm sure the sex would've been great. But I want to be able to have something else afterwards. Jack's the complete opposite. He just wants to have a little fun, and not have to worry too much about tomorrow. Once we got that worked out, we became great friends." "I see." Was Connie's only reply. It had only been a week since Jenny had left for London and already Connie missed her terribly. She had talked to her on the phone a few hours ago and was overjoyed to know that she was having a great time. Yet no sooner had the receiver dropped back on the cradle when she was again filled with an emptiness. "I should have never given up control of the restaurants." Connie said out loud to herself as she turned off the television. "At least that would've given me something to occupy my time." Five years before, on her fiftieth birthday, Connie had turned over the control of the three D'Angelo restaurants to her children. In addition to Stephen, she had a second son named Peter who was now 35. Her daughter Angela had just turned 31. Aside from Jenny's mother, Connie was more than pleased with her children's marriages. Each of her children had been given a share in their own restaurant as well as operational control. Connie, of course, retained majority control of D'Angelo Enterprises. Her's was still the final word. She owed that much to her late husband. Vinnie had literally worked himself to death, suffering a fatal heart attack when he was only 46. It was his dream to see the single family restaurant that he'd inherited from his own father grow into a chain. Connie had made sure that dream had come true. It was her distrust of Barbara that caused her to hold her shares. Deep down, she believed that her daughter-in-law didn't have the desire for hard work that running the restaurants required. If she had any real control, she would quickly be pushing the others to sell out for a fast buck. Peter and Angela understood that. When Connie died, her shares would skip a generation and be split between the 7 grandchildren. She had arranged for trust funds for all of them. Each would get their full shares on their 21st birthday. Connie loved all her grandchildren, but it was always Jenny that occupied a special place in her heart. She was more like a daughter than a granddaughter, a reflection of what Connie was like when she was that young. "When I was that young." Connie repeated to herself. "When I was that young, I definitely wasn't sitting around the house feeling sorry for myself." With that, she rose from the chair and went looking for her address book. What she needed was a little companionship. Maybe even a little roll in the sack. Connie had hardly been celibate in the dozen years of her widowhood. She'd been actively pursued by a number of men, even taken a few as lovers. But most lost interest when they finally discovered that if marriage was a possibility, any control of D'Angelo's wasn't. Twice in the last ten years, she'd even had one-night stands with younger men. Both times with the summer help that she hired to fill in for her waiters when they went on vacation. The young men never stood long and no one ever knew. It gave her an ego boost to know she could still satisfy a younger man. In fact, during her first year of widowhood, Connie had even had a brief lesbian fling with Maria Fortunato, one of her neighbors. It was Maria who had initiated the affair and Connie had been curious enough to let it develop. Most people thought it was so nice for Maria, a widow in her own right, to spend so much time with Connie during that difficult first year. No one ever suspected what was really going on. When the traditional mourning period finally ended, the men began to call once again and the affair faded of its own accord. It had been an interesting experience to say the least and had helped fill a temporary void in her life. Connie made a few calls, but had no luck. It was already Friday night and most of the men she knew had already made plans for the weekend. Those that she knew would be available were available for good reason and she wasn't that desperate. Putting the book back down, Connie picked up the light blue advertisement sitting next to it on her desk. It was the flyer she had been given by Jenny's friend. She remembered that she had called them the other day to hire one of the boys to work on her patio deck this weekend. Bill Ross or something like that, was the boy they had told her would be coming. Just as well she stood home tonight. "Maybe I should have just asked them to send me over a young stud." Connie laughed to herself. Her laugh filled the room for a few seconds, then silence returned. The house once again seemed very empty. "You are definitely getting to be a horny old lady, Connie D'Angelo." Connie thought as she dropped the sheet onto the table. Late that night, long after dinner, Connie found herself unable to sleep.Uneasy with the whole idea of sleeping pills, she instead poured herself a glass of wine. Still, sleep would not come. By the time she was on her second glass, she decided to do a little of that cleaning out of the basement storage she had been doing on and off for the last two months. Connie carried a box of mementos up from the basement. She hadn't looked at this old junk in almost 30 years. Yet lately she had begun to feel nostalgic. Sipping her drink, she was surprised that most of it was in such good condition. She had Vinnie to thank for that. He figured that these things would mean something to her someday and had been very careful in packing them away. They were the memories of a young girl named Connie Esposito, and of a time and place far away. Shifting through the layers of the past, the dark-haired woman found a stack of old 45s. Removing the plastic wrap around them, she smiled as she read off the labels. Frankie Lymon and the Teenagers, Buddy Holly, Little Anthony and the Imperials, The Monotones, Fats Domino, and of course Elvis. A bright smile on her lips, Connie thought of those long-ago days when she and her girlfriends had visions of passion listening to such hits as Peggy Sue, Book of Love, Blueberry Hill and Why do fools fall in love? "I haven't heard some of these in years," she said out loud. "I wonder if they are still good?" As she placed one of the small records on the entertainment center's turntable, Connie wondered what her grandchildren and their MTV-oriented friends would think of this music? Placing the needle on the first groove, she concluded that they would no doubt view them in much the same way she had viewed her parents' big band albums. Old fogey music! As the sounds of her girlhood drifted across the room, Connie went back to the storage container. Various books were soon piled alongside the case, along with piles of snapshots. Finally, at the bottom of the box, Connie found what she'd been searching for. Remarkably preserved, it was a framed color 11 x 14 photograph. In it were four young men in blue jackets. It was obvious that they were musicians from the instruments they carried. Standing next to and in front of the quartet were three young girls. The dark blue lettering on the drumhead read "Johnny and the Bluecoats". Focusing on each individual band member, Connie finally stopped at the tall dark-haired lad on the far right. He was obviously the leader, you could tell that just from his bearing in the photo. His name... was Johnny Coravelli. And except for his greased-back hair, he could've almost been his grandson's twin. "Johnny, Johnny," Connie said to herself with a wide smile. "You always were a hunk." Dropping back into her heavily cushioned chair, Connie reverently ran her fingers across the bottom of the wooden frame. One by one, the names of the other band members filtered through her mind. Vito Rossini, Dominic Laruso and Danny Giordano. They were on the way up in those days, the early days of Rock 'n' Roll. All they had needed was one lucky break. And for a while, it looked they might just get it. Along with the guys were her two best girlfriends in the whole world. Tina Marie Cerani and Jill Barusso. The third girl in the photo, the one hanging on to Johnny, was of course as familiar as the closest mirror. Free of the lines of age and full of youthful exuberance, the face was her own. Connie chuckled as she looked at her younger self. Hair pulled back into a ponytail, a tight blue sweater and a poodle skirt. That outfit used to cause her mother to cross herself every time she saw her in it. Preoccupied with the photo, Connie didn't notice the record had finished. Her thoughts were no longer here in this room. Closing her eyes, Connie could hear the magical music of the Bluecoats. She could see the crowds and feel the excitement of being there on the verge of success. Most of all, she remembered how wonderful it felt to have everyone know she was Johnny's girl. Her mind began to drift further and further away as her need for sleep and the wine took her back to days long gone. To one special night in particular. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * "Oh Johnny," the young 16-year-old moaned as she felt the boy's hand slip under her blouse and cup her naked breast. "Oh baby," Johnny replied as he ran his fingers across Connie's nipples. "You feel so nice." With practiced skill, the dark-haired 19-year-old undid the buttons of the young girl's blouse. She could feel the excitement in his voice. She knew tonight would be the night. Tonight she would become a woman. "Oh God, Connie!" Johnny exclaimed as he undid the last button and her blouse fell away. Seconds later her bright white bra had followed the blouse to the floor. Much to the envy of most of the girls in her class, Connie had begun developing early and had continued to develop after most of them had stopped. The result was an impressive 36C bust. She had let Johnny feel it before, but this was the first time he had been able to fully appreciate it au natural. Johnny had been planning this night for weeks. His parents were away for the night, having gone into the city to see that new play "My Fair Lady". They had decided to stay overnight in a hotel, and he had the house to himself. It had taken a lot of sweet talk, but tonight Connie was going to let him go all the way. "Mmmm," Johnny moaned as he kissed Connie's soft breasts. Running his tongue across her nipples, Johnny reached down and eased his free hand under the folds of her skirt and between her legs. Finding her panties wet brought an increased hardness to his cock, already straining against his pants. Pushing aside the moist material, Johnny slid his fingers inside her. "Ow!" Connie cried out at the sudden painful intrusion. "Easy!" "Relax, I know what I'm doing," Johnny said as he rubbed hard against her clit. Connie bit down until the initial pain passed and finally began to feel good. Not as good as when she did it herself though. A fact which confused the girl. She had always heard that it was supposed to be better when a boy did it. Yet no sooner had it begun to really feel good when Johnny abruptly stopped. Johnny took Connie's hand and placed it on the bulge in his pants. She giggled as she felt his hardness. She rubbed it a little, bringing a soft moan from Johnny. It was her way of giving her assent without actually having to say it. It was a silly thing really, but that was the code girls lived by. Smiling, the dark-haired boy broke their embrace for a moment and undid his zipper, pulling his cock out of his pants. Then he pulled off the pants and let them drop to the floor next to the couch. Connie looked in fascination at the now fully freed cock. It was erect and pointed up and outward as if it had a life of its own. She had seen it before of course, but that had always been in the dim back seat of Johnny's old '52 Ford. This was the first chance she had to see one up close and in the light. It was a lot different than the ones she and her girlfriends had looked at during a sleepover at Betty Anderson's house. Betty's father was a doctor and she had borrowed some of his medical texts. Of course, none of them had been so erect! Sitting back down next to her, Johnny put her hand back on his cock. As she had done on so many nights, she closed her slim fingers around it and began to pump it up and down. The result on Johnny was immediate and pronounced. A look of pure satisfaction filled his face, both from the effect of Connie's pumping motion and the thought of the prize still to come. "Ooooh Baby, that feels so nice," the singer said in his special musical voice. "You make me feel so special." The words of encouragement caused the girl to melt and spurred her on. Doubling the speed of her hand job, she sent new sparks shooting through her boyfriend. This felt so good to Johnny that he temporarily lost sight of the night's objective. Finally, the familiar sensation that usually accompanied the climax of his own jerk-off sessions brought him back to reality. He had to force himself to ask her to slow down. If she kept going like that, he would have shot his load in another minute or two. Reluctantly, he guided her hand away from his still eager cock. He had to give it a few minutes to let his body settle down. "Let's catch our breath for a minute," he said as he took the time to unbutton the rest of his own shirt and dump it on top of his pants. He never wore undershirts and was now totally nude. Connie figured she should get naked as well and began to undo the clasp of her skirt. "No, let me do that," Johnny interrupted as he replaced her hands with his own. As he leaned over to slide off her skirt, Connie saw for the first time the small blue shark tattooed on his upper biceps. "Johnny, you're a Shark?" she asked in excitement. Johnny turned and looked at the emblem on his skin as if suddenly remembering that he had it. He looked a little worried for a moment and then, seeing her reaction, smiled once again. "Well, it was a while ago," he grinned. "But as they used to say, once you're a member you're one to the grave." Up until a year and a half before, The Sharks had been one of the roughest street gangs in this part of the city. It wasn't that unusual for members to either graduate to the big time, the state pen or the city morgue. There had been a shooting involving a cop, and even the other local hoods had turned a blind eye as most of the gang members were hunted down. Knowing that Johnny had been part of that seemed to make Connie even more excited. Feeling very flushed, Connie pulled up next to Johnny once again and cupped his balls in her hand. The fire in her eyes was plainly visible. Johnny knew this was his chance to put the stakes even higher."Connie, baby," he asked in his most seductive tone. "Do you really love me?" "Of course I do," she said as she leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss. "What kind of silly question is that?" She laughed. "Would I be here like this if I didn't?" "Well, I was just wondering...." He said hesitantly. "Seeing as we're gonna, ... well, you know..." Connie nodded her assent, but looked a little confused. She had already decided that tonight was going to be the night and had told him so. So what in the world was he talking about? "What I mean is...well, I was wondering if you'd want to try that other thing we talked about." He continued. "You know, the thing with the mouth...." The words had hardly come out of Johnny's mouth when Connie jumped up off the sofa and away from him. She was clearly angry and grabbed her pile of clothes on the floor. "Johnny Coravelli, how could you even ask me to do such a thing!" She yelled as she stepped away with her clothes now bundled up in her arms. "If that's the kind of thing you really want, then you can go looking for one of those whores down by the docks!" Both Connie and her girlfriends had agreed that putting a man's cock in their mouth was the most disgusting thing that they had ever heard of. Something that only the nastiest prostitutes did. They'd no more consider doing it than their boyfriends would think of putting their mouth between a girl's legs.

Part One

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/9889.txt

Spoonbender

The Summer of Love

"What's wrong, Marianne?" Shirley inquired. Marianne shrugged and looked dejected. "Nothing." "Oh, come on. You can tell me, that's what I'm here for," Shirley persisted. But it elicited no reply, except for an even gloomier visage. "Is it Johnny?" Marianne shot her friend a sharp look, then seemed to slump in on herself again. "All right, don't tell me," sniffed Shirley and, slinging her schoolbag over her shoulder, she strode purposefully off. She'd only gone a few steps when Marianne called out. "Yes! In a way." Shirley stopped and turned to her. "Have you split up?" "No, no." A vehement shake of the head. "It's nothing like that. It's just that I..." she petered off. "What?" enquired her friend, her curiosity piquing. "Oh, Shirley!" The tears had started to flow now. "I don't know what to do." "About what? Oh come on, Mar, a problem shared is a problem halved and all that." "I'm pregnant." "Wow! Really? How did that happen? I didn't even know you and Johnny had done it." "We haven't, that's part of the problem." "Come on, you've got to tell me! So who was it?" "You remember that party at Phil's place?" Her friend nodded. "Well, me and Johnny had a row and he stormed off. I stayed behind and smoked too much pot. At the end of the night one of the guys gave me a lift home. You remember Steve? Well, he stopped on the way and... well, one thing led to another and we ended up doing it." "Weren't you on the pill?" Marianne shook her head. "It was my first time." She blushed. "I always thought the first time was free," mused her friend. "So did I, but now I'm a month late. And I'm normally really regular." By now she was crying in earnest. Shirley dropped her bag and wrapped her arms around her friend. "I'm so sorry," she said to her friend. They clung to each other for a while, then Shirley said, "We could ask my eldest sister. She'll know what to do." "She will?" snivelled Marianne. "Of course. I'll ask her tonight." "Would you?" Shirley put her arm round her friend's shoulder. "Course I will. That's what friends are for."Anyway, you'll never see him again. So cheer up. She put her finger under the girl's chin and lifted her face up. Marianne smiled wanly. "One day!" thought Alison. "One day, the politicians will wake up to what's happening to young girls like her and will have the guts to legalize abortion." She hoped it would be soon. Then, maybe, girls wouldn't be quite so dependent on men. It would be one more step towards their freedom and equality. Contrary to her expectations, the hotel was surprisingly well-maintained throughout. Granted, it was old, but it had been modernized with both flair and taste. The lobby was bright and airy, and the receptionists were well-dressed and pleasant. "May I help you?" asked the smiling man, who was manning the reception desk. "I... er... is there a message for a Miss Smith?" "Wait a second," he said, sifting through the stack of messages. "Yes. Here we are." He handed her the folded piece of paper. "Thank you," she said as she opened it. 'Room 297' was all it said. Walking to the elevator, she thought she could feel the eyes of everyone in the lobby boring into her back. But a quick glance over her shoulder dispelled the mental image; everybody, and that included the receptionist, were busily going about their business, blissfully unaware of the uniform-clad prostitute in their midst. She wished she had changed into 'normal' clothes, but there just wasn't the time. She was due back in school in a little over 50 minutes, and she didn't think she could spare the extra few minutes it would take to change. It seemed like a good decision at the time, but now she wasn't so sure. The man, whoever he was, would know which school she was from. He could trace her. But it was too late. At the end of the corridor, she noticed a bathroom, and she ducked inside to put some makeup on. Once inside, she tried to still her trembling hands as she applied some mascara. She was shaking so much it smudged, and she had to start over. Finally, she was ready. She took a deep breath and stepped back into the corridor. A few short strides and she was there. "Room 297," said the sign on the door. Her fate lay beyond it. She stood for long seconds, trying to control the hysterical beating of her heart as it hammered away in her chest. Fighting the urge to flee, she tapped on the door. "Wait!" boomed the stentorian voice from within, followed a few seconds later by the door being flung open. He was surprisingly handsome, big, without being fat, with a full bushy beard and twinkling amused eyes. "Yes?" he said. "Please, sir, you sent for me," it was all she could think to say. "I did? Ah! You must be the company I ordered." He looked her up and down. "You're a little young, aren't you? Are you sure you're old enough?" "I'm seventeen," she said, a spark of defiance coloring her voice. "Oh! Well, in that case, you had better come in," he said with a laugh, and then stood aside to let her pass. The room was larger and airier than Marianne was expecting. She took a few steps inside and stopped by the bed. She heard the door close behind her, and she realized this was it. There was no escape now. Even if she didn't do it, she might as well have. She darted a furtive glance around the room, through the curtain of her fashionably long dark hair. Her eyes were drawn to the chair on which the jacket was draped, a dark jacket with four gold rings on the sleeve. She heard the creak of the bed as he sat down. She turned and looked at him. He had a sardonic smile on his face as he perched comfortably on the bed. They stared at each other for long seconds before he spoke. "Aren't you supposed to tell me something?" "Like what?" "Well, the reason you are here would do for a start." "Don't you know? I'm here to... do it." A long pause. "With you." "You don't sound very sure. Are you sure that you want to do it?" She nodded, her stomach churning. "Why?" "I must have the money. I really need it." "What is it? Drugs?" "No, no. It's nothing like that, it's just that I..." She struggled to discuss her problem with a stranger. Then, to her surprise, he ventured, "You're in trouble, aren't you?" "How do you know?" she said, with a start. "Why else would a young girl need so much money? I'm right, aren't I?" She nodded. "How much do you want?" "Thirty pounds." She felt horrible discussing the sale of her body with a stranger, but it had to be done. "No, in total." "Total?" The unexpected turn surprised her. "Yes, how much are they going to charge you to do it?" "A hundred pounds." "Hmm. That's a lot of money. Listen, you don't have to do this. I could lend you the money, and you could pay me back over time. Don't worry. I'm at sea most of the time, and I have very little to spend it on. So I can certainly afford it. Besides, a little humanity never hurt anybody. So, what do you say?" "You'd give it to me?" she shook her head. "I couldn't take it, I just couldn't. I don't even know you." "You were prepared to sleep with me without knowing my name, but if I offer you the money as a loan, you feel it's at odds with your personal etiquette. That's a fine set of rules you have written for yourself there," he mused as he tapped his lips with his forefinger. She stood, picking at a loose thread on her school uniform jacket, trying to formulate a sensible answer. He stood up and walked over to his gold-ringed coat. He delved into the inside pocket and pulled out his wallet. Flipping it open, he counted out twenty-five pound notes. He then walked over to her and stuffed them into her top pocket. "There!" he said. "All done. Now you are a free agent. You can walk out of here without a stain on either your character or your conscience. Just think of it as a gift from an old man who hates to see unhappy young girls." She stood for a second, then flew at him, wrapping her arms around his body. She reveled in the smell of him, the deep, clean masculine odor overlaid with the tang of his pipe tobacco. "Now that's what I call a hell of a thank you." He smiled down at the top of her head. Then he noticed her shoulders were heaving, and he gently reached down and tilted her face up towards his. "Hey, what's this? Don't cry." "I can't help it," she sobbed. "You're the kindest man I've ever met." Then she stood on tiptoe and kissed him full on the lips. The feel of his hard body against hers and the look on the strong, smiling face caused a tremor to flicker through her. Suddenly, she knew she wanted more and pulled his head towards hers, mashing her mouth hard against his. He drew away slightly and looked her in the eye. "You don't have to do this, you know." "I know... but I want to." With that, she took his hand from her chin and placed it directly onto her breast. He squeezed her gently and reflexively, and she moaned as a tremor of ecstasy rippled through her. "Please make love to me," she breathed. "Are you sure?" "Yes, yes. I'm sure. I want you." He scooped her up off the floor like she was a child and carried her over to the bed. Gently, he laid her down and proceeded to press his lips hard over hers. Instinctively, she opened her mouth, and their tongues dueled passionately. Meanwhile, his hands, so big and clumsy-looking, displayed an amazing degree of finesse as they teased open the buttons on her white, cotton blouse. When the blouse was opened, he delicately parted the material to expose her snow-white bra. He stopped for a moment and looked her in the eye. "Are you sure? I don't want you to feel you are under any pressure." "Please," was her reply. The bra opened at the front, and with a dexterity that bespoke of long practice, he opened it with a deft twist of his fingers. The bra fell open to reveal her breasts, snow-white and plumply inviting, with the little pink nipples already stiff and swollen. His mouth dropped down and engulfed her left nipple. She shuddered luxuriantly as a thrill of passion blossomed inside her body. She never knew such feelings could possibly have existed, and she thought she would burst with the exquisite pleasure of it all. His tongue darted and dipped at her nipple, and his mouth worked around in circles as if he was prospecting her breast. "Hmmm," she murmured when he removed his mouth momentarily before taking possession of her other breast in his delicious maw. Meanwhile, his hand darted down and rubbed her thigh just below her hemline. She could feel the fire on her skin where the fingers made contact with her soft, downy flesh. His hand started to work its way under the hem, the touch as soft as goosedown but with a feeling of unleashed power in the large, muscular fingers. She was un-evolving rapidly, soon acting on a purely instinctual level, murmuring weakly as she parted her thighs to give him unfettered access to her innermost secrets, which lay humidly beckoning between the warm darkness of her thighs. When his finger touched her sex, it was like she had been immersed in a cocoon of silken bliss. Her whole being focused in on her erogenous areas as he continued to suck and maul her breasts while his hand worked its magic below her. She knew he could feel her dampness through the plain cotton gusset of her workday school panties. Her passion now knew no bounds, and she ached for the fulfillment that only he could grant her. And so it was with a mixture of mild trepidation and wanton urgency that she lifted her bottom obligingly when his hands started to pull her panties down from inside her skirt. She could feel them slipping away, like an old life, as he slid them slowly down the full length of her long, slim legs. They snagged briefly on her ankle, then they were gone, flung in the heat of their passion away across the room.He released her breasts, and again their mouths melded as he started to unbutton his shirt in a fever of lust. When it was open, her little hands helped to push it from his shoulders and down his back. Her hands then danced a tango over his firm, warm flesh as he redirected his urgency to his trousers. She caught a fleeting glimpse of his erection, large and mildly terrifying. But then, as if the curtain had been drawn over the scene again, her passion surged once more, and she parted her thighs to allow him access to her honeyed depths. He flipped her skirt up, and she could feel his body insinuating itself between her thighs. Then he was at her gate, and the feel of his warm insistence made her grip his shoulders tightly, her hands digging into his flesh as if to urge him into her. He moved, and the head parted her lips. She craved him to plunge into her, to take her, to master her, to conquer her with his power. And she bent her knees to allow him easier access. Slowly and carefully, he pushed into her. There was no pain, no discomfort, and no urgency, unlike her first time. Now it was pure and unhurried. Deeper and deeper he pushed while she twisted her hips and pushed against the hard swell of his buttocks with her hands as if to help him to consummate their mutual passion. The feeling of fullness yielded to sparks of fire which coursed up and down her spine as he started to stroke inside her. Dimly, she could hear herself screaming out as he repeatedly pounded into her. At first, her legs kicked wildly, then they drew themselves around his frantically convulsing back until, finally, her ankles locked behind him. He was a skilled and varied lover, and he taught her more about the arts of love in those few short minutes than most girls would experience throughout the duration of their teenage years. His skills, the fruit of long practice in all the principal ports of the world, were played out to her eagerly questing body as they soared together. It was as if the whole world had been honed down to just them two, adrift on a sea of ecstasy such as she never thought could possibly exist. The young girl and her skillful middle-aged lover making passionate love, absorbed and needful of each other, their mutual pleasures entwined frantically together in a rhythm as timeless as time itself. Finally, the denouement! She felt herself hovering on the brink of an abyss so deep she felt that she might not re-emerge as her orgasm started to erupt within her. She moaned, she thrashed, and she dug her nails deeply into his back as she stretched out for the summit of her bliss. Higher she climbed, and faster he plunged. Then it hit her. Her eyes closed tightly, and she screamed out as her orgasm pole-axed her. Her legs wrapped themselves tighter around him, and her arms drew him as close as her puny strength allowed, as she hit her heights. She flew in space, fireworks bursting around her as her shuddering climax continued, onwards and upwards. Ever upwards. Her ankles were pounding into his buttocks, and her thighs gripped him tightly as she felt the sudden rush of warmth inside her. He was coming, and it was like a torrent unleashed within her silken depths. The power of it made her lose all control, and she kicked and screamed her way through to the summation of her climax as he pursued his, within her. Finally, it was over, but they clung tightly to each other as if to deny the ebbing of the sensations within their bodies. For a full two minutes, they clung like limpets, then, slowly, her ankles relaxed, and she fell open, releasing him from her velvet prison. He rolled off her, and they both lay panting for long minutes. She looked at her watch. "Christ!" She only had five minutes to catch her bus back to school. Feverishly, she pulled her clothes back together and dashed over to the mirror in order to try and tease some semblance of order into her tousled hair. She caught a glimpse of him relaxing on the bed, smiling at her, and she smiled back. She looked around the room for her panties, but they were nowhere to be seen. She decided to leave them. Maybe they would be something that he could remember her by. It seemed the least she could do. Finally, she was ready, and she darted over to the bed and kissed him fully on the lips. "Thank you," she said. "That was beautiful." "And so are you," he smiled back. It was only as she was walking through the school gate that she realized that she didn't know his name and that she could never return the loan.

M/F, Cons

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11189.txt

dimitri

Lara's Defeat

"Ooooh, Pierre," moaned the Stewardess - Linda - as she felt the Frenchman's hand slip under her bra and cup her large breast. "Yes," hissed Pierre through clenched teeth, "These are very nice." His free hand moved behind her back, and his skilled fingers undid the clasp of her bra and let it drop down past his arm onto the floor. "Mmmm," Pierre moaned happily as he kissed Linda's firm, large breasts, but for some reason an image of Lara's large chest appeared in his mind. He ran his tongue across her nipple, while his right hand came up and fondled her other breast. As she leaned forward in pleasure, his left hand moved down between her legs, snaking underneath the short uniform skirt and pressing against her panties. - Soaking, I still have the touch! - Pierre thought with a laugh. His cock was stretching against his boxers - his pants were down around his ankles - and he could practically hear it begging to go where his hand was. - Not just yet, little Pierre, - the Frenchman thought, - First things first. - Pushing aside the Stewardess' moist panties, he slid a couple of his fingers inside her pussy. "Ooooh, wow!" Linda gasped out at the unexpected - but welcome - intrusion, "Your fingers are... wow!!" Pierre smiled around the tit in his mouth; it was so nice to have your work appreciated. He pressed the knuckle of his thumb up against her clit, rubbing the bone across her love button. "Oooooh!" she gasped, "Wow!!!" - You're getting repetitive, - thought Pierre, - But I don't want you for your brain. - Pierre almost bit down on her nipple in surprise when her hand moved down and pressed against the bulge in his boxers. "Ooooh, so hard," she chuckled, and rubbed up and down along his bulge, "What are we going to do with this?" Pierre pulled his mouth away from her breast and looked up at her with a grin, his fingers continued sliding up and down her cuntlips while his thumb rubbed her clitoris. "I can think of a couple of things." As Lara stood up, her huge breasts pushed against the back of the overweight, middle-aged man in front of her. "Sorry," she said. "Think nothing of it," he said in a cultured British accent. As she walked down the aisle towards the bathroom, he watched her ass move and thought, - Heh, sorry for what, you just gave me a new set of jerk-off fantasies for a month! - Linda gripped the waistband of his boxers and slowly lowered them down past his hips, his cock springing out and pointing right at her face. Sitting on the toilet seat, Pierre watched silently as her hand wrapped around his cock and slowly slid up and down it, stroking his member a couple of times and making the Frenchman moan in pleasure. Then she began to wank him faster and faster, her hand becoming a blur around his thick, hard dick. "Wait, wait," he moaned, "You don't want Pierre to blow his load early, do you?" As she stopped wanking him, he pulled her arm up and stood up off the toilet and lowered her to the floor. She lay on her back and looked up at him wistfully, spreading her legs eagerly, wanting him inside of her. Pierre felt her entire body tense up as his cock pressed against the entrance of her pussy. She gasped out in pleasure as his cock parted her soaking cuntlips, pressing inside of her pussy - in of all places - an aircraft's toilet. Pierre pressed his cock forward, burying his shaft as deeply inside of the Stewardess' pussy as he could. Then he pulled back as far as he could without actually pulling out, then plunged back in, his cock slamming inside of her cunt again. "Yeah!" screamed Linda, "FUCK ME!!!!" Lara frowned and looked about; no one else seemed to have heard the scream of pleasure, but if they had just started as she suspected, they would get a lot louder. "Damn it, Pierre," she muttered to herself, "Why the hell did I get involved with a prick like you?" Pierre's hands had slid underneath Linda's back, and he was gripping her shoulders as he thrust forward again and again, clenching and unclenching his buttcheeks, fucking Linda's cunt faster and harder, giving her everything he had. She was a revelation; he had never met a woman who liked to be fucked like she did. He was only just starting, and already it sounded like she was cumming. Her legs were spread as far apart as she could get them, and her arms were rubbing circles in his back as she swung her head from side to side, her long blonde hair bouncing around her head. "Fuck me!" she screamed, "Fuck ME, FUCK ME!!!!" He began fucking her faster and faster, already he could feel fatigue building in his hips, but continued nonetheless, loving the feel of her cunt around his cock, the friction of plunging in and out, in and out of her gripping pussy. Her big tits were pressed up against his chest, and again he wondered what Lara's would feel like. - Forget that snobby English bitch, - Pierre thought to himself, - Her cunt's probably so cold it'd freeze little Pierre anyway. - "OOH!!! YESSS!!!! THAT'S IT!!!! FUCK ME!!!!!!!!" Linda was squealing, and he could feel her body clutching up, her hips arching up as she approached her orgasm. "Together..." moaned Pierre, "We'll cum together!" Pierre loved cumming at the same time as a woman, when their cunts clamped down on your cock while it shot sperm there wasn't a feeling on Earth greater. He could feel the pressure building up in his balls, ready to explode his cum out into her. - I hope she is on the pill, because I won't pay for no bastard son of a slut. - "I'M CUMMING!" She screamed in pleasure, "OH FUCK, HERE IT FUCKING COMES!!!!!!" "Yes!" he groaned as he felt his cum fire out from his cock, shooting deeply into her pussy just as her cuntlips came down hard on his cock, clamping down like a vice around his member. Lara watched as the door opened, and a sweaty, ruffled Pierre stepped out. She grabbed him by the arm and shut the door again so no one would see the Stewardess getting dressed. "What are you doing?" he whispered. "You fucking idiot," she hissed at him, "You want to get us banned from this airline? I could hear that slut squealing out here in the aisle!" Pierre looked about, "Just as well no one wanted to pinch a loaf, no?" "Only because I sent them back, I had to tell them you've been constipated for three weeks and that's why you sounded so happy!" Pierre looked shocked, "But it was not me screaming!" "I told them you got a little high-pitched when you were excited, and I got some strange looks." They made their way back to their seats, and as soon as they were buckled back in, Pierre groaned. "What's the matter?" asked Lara, "Forgot to put a notch in your belt?" "No," moaned Pierre, "I just that I need to use the toilet now!" Egypt - Two Days Later. Lara thanked the driver in Egyptian, and Pierre snorted in derision. "You have a problem?""Most of them speak two, three languages," muttered Pierre, "So you don't need to speak Egyptian, just speak English... besides, it doesn't impress me." "Why would I want to impress you?" she asked him with a snort. "Because I'm so impressive?" he asked with a grin. She rolled her eyes at the driver as he took the last of her luggage down and put it on a trolley for her. "And you can take that stuff in yourself," growled Pierre. "If you're not man enough to do it..." started Lara, and the Frenchman grabbed the trolley and pulled it into the hotel with several muttered curses. The driver smiled as Lara followed them in, then got back into his car and drove away. Lara slammed the door shut. "You did this on purpose!" she yelled at Pierre. "Why would I want to spend any more time with you than I have to?" yelled Pierre, "I regret letting you in on this now! I don't know why I thought I'd need your help." The Desk Clerk had indeed had their reservation, but only the one - for a Mr. and Mrs. Pierre DuPont. There were no other free rooms in the hotel, or indeed in the city - apparently a diplomatic convention was going on that had resulted in every hotel in the city being full... unless one wanted to stay in a rat-infested, urine-stained hovel. "It'll be all right I guess," she said, "It's a pretty plush carpet, you should find it quite comfortable." "Why the hell should I sleep on the floor," yelled Pierre in frustration, "I paid for the room!" "Are you really going to let a woman sleep on the floor?" "I've about had it with your 'I'm a weak little woman' bit! I've heard about you, you're tough as nails. Walked right out of the Himalayas after a plane crash - so you can rough it easily enough." Suddenly Lara's entire demeanor changed, from a tensed up, angry woman she suddenly took on a gentle, little lost lamb look. "Gee Pierre, please don't be so mean, I..." "Oh, shut up!!!" cried out Pierre, "You make me sick." Lara snarled, "ME! I'm not the one who screwed that vacant little bimbo on the plane!!!" "At least she had blood running through her veins instead of ice water! You..." "Don't even think of saying it," warned Lara. "You..." "Just try it, Frenchie," she said with quiet, barely restrained anger, "And I'll rip your nuts off." He smiled lightly, and spoke slowly, deliberately, "You... stuck-up... snot-nosed.... frigid... little English bitch." Lara stepped up so her face was within an inch of Pierre's and bared her teeth at him. "You pathetic little French bastard, you know what I'd like to do to you?" "Do you have any idea what I'd like to do to you?" Pierre replied, staring hard into her eyes. She gripped him by the head and stuck her tongue down his throat. Pierre pulled her belt away from her shorts and threw it onto the bed, his hand slid down her shorts and pressed against her cunt mound, which was dampening up already. She moaned in excitement as her tongue continued to explore his mouth, as his tongue did hers. Her hands slid down his back and gripped his buttcheeks. "You have magnificent breasts," he gasped, truly impressed by her natural wonders. "Come, Pierre," she moaned, "Impress me, you think I haven't heard compliments about my tits before?" Pierre - always one to take up a challenge - grinned and got up onto his knees. Grabbing her by the hips, he turned her over onto her front with unexpected strength, she twisted her back around to stare at him. "What are you...?" "Shush," he shushed, running one finger down the small of her back and down her asscrack, "I am speechless, you have magnificent buttocks." His hands had come back down past her narrow waist and onto her hips, and now his long, thick cock was pressing against her wet pussy, actually teasing the cock-starved Englishwoman. Lara moaned into the pillow as she felt the tip of Pierre's cock press forward into her tight little pussy. She eagerly pressed her ass back, trying to get the massive member inside of her minge but Pierre again displayed surprising strength by holding her hips in place... he was making it clear that he was in control and he decided how fast or slow this fuck would be. "It... begins," grunted Pierre and, still clasping her hips, he began to pull his cock free, relishing the feel of her tight cunt pulling back on his dick, not wanting to free it. Soon only the head of his penis remained inside the English Adventurer's snatch, and then he plunged forward again, once more burying his meat to the hilt inside her lovehole. "I am going to cum inside of you," growled Pierre, "I am going to shoot deep into you, you British bitch... you like that?"" She barely heard the words, and had long ago given up stifling her cries of pleasure. Now her face was contorted in ecstasy, and she squealed in animalistic pleasure as she felt the Frenchman fuck her harder and harder, faster and faster. "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!! SHIT YES, I'M FUCKING CUMMING," Lara squealed as she felt the dam break and her orgasm broke free, smashing through her like a tidal wave. "UHHHhhhhh... hhh ..." groaned Pierre, hunching up over Lara's body, his cock shooting several streams of cum deep into her body as her own cum ran down their legs. Pierre remained on top of her like that for a couple of minutes, then with another groan he rolled off her and fell asleep on the bed next to her. Lara managed a little grin, thinking to herself, "Huh... outlasted you Frenchie..." and then she too fell asleep. --- Anan and Tobash stared in fascination at the two cum-stained, sleeping bodies. "Tell me you got that," muttered Anan. "I got it, I got it," replied Tobash, "You know what this is?" Anan grinned, "Yeah, our ticket to the big time in pornography, this baby will make us rich!" ----------------------------------------------- Site of Professor Golsha's Dig - The Next Day ----------------------------------------------- The worker was so busy staring at Lara that he slammed right into one of the huts, nearly dropping the old cracked vase he was carrying. If Lara noticed this, she paid it no mind, as it was something she had grown used to, with men staring lecherously at her beautiful body, especially when her breasts had really begun to develop. Pierre was wearing a light brown jacket with a half-naked woman on the back. This had, of course, pissed Lara off, but he told her that it was good luck and he always wore it on a job, and she had been too tired and pleased after the previous night's lovemaking to start an argument. An Egyptian man of average height and build approached them. He wore small, rounded spectacles and a white suit of the kind usually associated with corpulent foreigners. He grinned at them with impossibly white teeth, and when he spoke, Lara could have sworn she was back at her old home, his English was so good. "Monsieur DuPont, Lady Croft, it is a pleasure," he said, lowering his head slightly to each of them in turn. "I am Nathaniel Asabar, Professor Golsha's Assistant." Lara grinned, "Just Lara will do, I'm not a Lady till my mother dies." Pierre grunted, looking about as workers bustled to and fro, carrying things here, there and everywhere. He had trimmed his goatee somewhat but was allowing his stubble to grow, commenting to Lara he wanted to try a beard, which she suspected he thought made him look cool. "Where is the Professor?" he asked, "And where's this so called impregnable tomb?" "Professor Golsha is in his tent about five hundred yards from here, the tomb... is over there," Nathaniel pointed away to the left. Following the line of his arm, Lara saw the area where the main cluster of workers were engaged. "I don't see nothing but a whole lot of natives sitting in a hole in the ground," complained Pierre. Lara narrowed her eyes at him, but before she could say anything, Nathaniel let out a bark of laughter. "Well yes, Mr. DuPont, what did you expect? A grand doorway in the side of a mountain?" Pierre looked a little confused, then he laughed - a little loudly - and slapped Nathaniel on the side of one arm, "Good one, Nate, I was just having you on!" Nathaniel grinned, although his eyes remained still, and Lara suddenly suspected she knew the reason Pierre had asked her along. "Come," Nathaniel said, "Let us go and see the Professor." - "The problem is..." The Professor was saying to Lara's breasts, "Is that the booby..." he coughed slightly, his cheeks going a little red, "...traps appear to be interconnected, and disabling one will set another and then another and another, which will eventually seal off the main tomb forever." Lara was poking her tongue - only slightly - out at the Professor, but he didn't seem to notice, in fact, he was constantly licking his own lips. "I've had other archaeologists come and look at it, I've hired the very best in the architectural firms... I've even called in a couple of bitter rivals... none seem to be able to figure out how to disable it." The Professor was tall, with fairly dark skin - his mother had been Indian, his father Egyptian - and despite the heat of the day, he was dressed in a three-piece suit. He had greeted Pierre with little more than the nod of the head - as if the Frenchman was nothing more than hired help - but his eyes had lit up at the sight of Lara, and he had kissed her hand with the dignity and class of an English Noble (and Lara had met plenty) before his eyes had become seemingly fixed to her upper chest. "Me and Lara, we are the best," Pierre said with a smile, "Lara's reputation precedes her, and she'll tell you herself that I'm the best she's had... oops, I mean met," he glared meaningfully at the Professor, making his intentions clear - This is my pussy... stay away or else! - "Well yes," replied Lara, noting that the Professor was only too eager to turn his attention from the irritated Frenchman and back to her breasts, "Perhaps me and 'the Great one' can go take a look at the tomb now? See if we can catch something all the experts and such missed?" The Professor nodded at once, "If you can figure out the way in, Ms. Croft, I wouldn't hesitate to add a ten percent bonus!" Pierre's eyes lit up. If he'd been a cartoon, there would have been dollar signs and a 'ker-ching, ker-ching' noise. A 10% bonus on top of the already sizable sum the Professor had promised to pay (and Pierre hadn't been foolish enough to tell Lara the true amount... oh no, she could get by fine on her own) would see the French explorer able to live in comfort for the rest of his life...or have a really great couple of years! Nathaniel grabbed a white hat from the smaller desk in the corner of the tent and slid it on. "Follow me please, lady and gentlemen." - The hole had a seventy-five yard radius, and there were several layers, with workers brushing away at small, roped-off sections, revealing the bygone relics of an ancient age. At the bottom of the hole was yet another hole, but as they made their way further down the site, Pierre made out stairs leading down to a small doorway. "That's the entrance? I thought it would be huge?" The Frenchman thought to himself. "...found the first stair, we thought we'd come across the remains of an old building," The Professor was saying, "but then as we moved farther down, I began to notice small, very faded inscriptions... impossible to make out but obviously of importance." "There weren't many taggers six thousand years ago," joked Nathaniel. "Then we came to the stone corridor and found the door, and after translating the hieroglyphics, we were amazed to discover we'd found one of the Pharaohs of the Lost Dynasty." "Hmmm?" Lara asked. "When we say 'lost'," replied Nathaniel, "we mean we have found artifacts from before that time and after that time, but never from the time itself. We don't know why the Pharaoh was buried in a basically underground tomb, although we suspect he may have been overthrown and buried by loyalists who meant to move his body to a more auspicious location when they had overthrown the rebels...." "Of course, that doesn't explain the complexity of the traps and the tomb itself," interrupted the Professor, "We hope to discover more when we get inside the burial chamber." Lara had noted several very large men standing above the hole as they made their way down the stairs. Now, as they came to the end of the small stone corridor, she saw two more. "Security?" she asked. The Professor sighed, "I'm afraid grave robbery is not a thing of the past, and in a case like this, we can't even risk having someone enter the first chamber and accidentally setting off even one booby-trap." "Like the dominoes, no?" asked Pierre, "One starts another?" Nathaniel nodded, "I couldn't have put it better myself, Mr. DuPont." The two men turned and pushed on the door, which moved from the doorway almost begrudgingly. Then they stood aside, and the four entered the tomb's main chamber. ----------------------- End Part Two (Of Four) -----------------------

Part Two

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/10304.txt

tj

Is This my Family?

"Oh! Oh!" The woman on TV was riding a man. His cock was of respectable length, and her pussy was sopping wet. I could even hear her juices squish over the generic sex music. I was always taking a risk when I watched these movies. I am only 17, and I do stay with my parents. My parents were not at the house, and my aunt from next door was supposed to be keeping an eye on me, although everyone knows I can keep myself at the age of 17. My aunt was actually attractive in my eyes. I tried to dismiss the incestuous thoughts, but they always lingered. On days I see her a lot, I usually masturbate thinking about her. "Bump." After hearing so many bumps, I turned the TV down to make sure that if my aunt or anyone else happened to come to the house, it would not be audible outside. I had been watching for a while, and I really needed to get a load off, so I lotioned up my hand and started matching strokes with the people on TV. I found my mind drifting to my aunt. She was bright-skinned and kind of tall and slender. Her breasts were not huge, but they also were not small. Her hips had near-perfect curves that looked absolutely stunning in the perfect pair of jeans. After I tried rejecting those thoughts, I started thinking about a girl from school. She was a bit shorter than me, maybe 5'3", kind of chubby but not fat. Fair-sized breasts and lips that seemed designed for kissing. My mind was snapped back into the real world when I heard the living-room door open, and I heard steps. I jumped up and tried to turn the tape off and pull my pants up before I was discovered, but I was too late. I was not smart enough to keep the remote by me, and my aunt walked in with me standing by the TV and my pants by my ankles. I didn't know what to do. I had never prepared myself for being caught. I thought it was impossible to be caught. I was always listening. I had even turned the TV low enough for me to hear a key in the door or something. My aunt didn't say anything, but she did rub her breasts through her shirt while she kept her eyes fixed on the TV couple. I still didn't know what to do. She told me to act like she wasn't there, but that was obviously hard. I had never had sex or anything, never been with a girl, I had just always masturbated and watched tapes and read stories. I had read stories where guys are lucky enough to be able to fuck their family members without getting in trouble. I couldn't imagine anything like that in my family. But my aunt was simply tantalizing. I realized that I had been standing there for quite a while, so I sat down on the couch again. My aunt came around the couch and sat down while at the same time she was removing her shirt! She was casually dressed and had been at home all day, so she had no bra on. I could not believe the corner of my eyes, and I dared not turn my head towards her. She started playing with her nipples. She licked her finger and lightly ran it in circular patterns. She rubbed her pussy through her jeans. I did not realize that I actually had turned my head, and I was staring at her body, watching her. When I looked up at her face, I noticed that her eyes were actually on me. She stood up briefly and pulled her pants down and sat back down. Then she only had her blue silk-like panties on. They had a wet spot where her pussy was, and I could smell a rather exotic odor mystifying the room. When she sat down, she seemed to make it a point to ease herself very close to me. I could not scoot back because I was already against the arm of the couch. She reached over and lightly touched my dick, which was as hard as a rock, no doubt the hardest it had ever been. The lotion had mostly dried off, but her hand was wet with her bodily juices. At that level of excitement, I nearly came right there on her hand. She laid back on the couch and spread her legs rather wide. Remember, she is quite tall and has long, slender, attractive legs. In fact, she stands at 6'7". She told me to rub my dick on her panties like I was fucking her. I hesitated, but she only looked at me like obedience was inevitable. Like it was just doing what she said to do since she was in charge. Like she was telling me to wash the dishes or something and waited for my obedience and not having to say her command twice. With that look, I got up and did as she said. The silkiness, in addition to the wetness of her panties, combined to make a feeling that I never dreamed possible. It was so soft, it was ten times as good as my lotion-soaked hands. I put my hands right by her shoulders on the back of the couch for balance and continued my motion. She moaned in pleasure. Suddenly, she reached up and pulled me closer to her and kissed me. I didn't know how to kiss, but she apparently knew enough for the both of us. She pushed me away and stood up and pulled her panties off. Her pubic area was partially shaved. Not much hair was there, but her pussy was in clear sight. She rubbed it for a second and poked her finger into it. Then she put the finger in her mouth and sucked her juices. She poked herself again and waved her finger in front of my nose and then smeared the juice around my lips and finally put her finger in my mouth. Then she positioned me laid back on the couch like she had been, and she straddled herself on top of me. She guided my dick into her pussy and started riding. It was just like I imagined while I masturbated. I always imagined people riding me, including her. With my inexperience, all I could do is sit back and enjoy as my cock slid in and out of her pussy while she bounced up and down in front of me, and her cries were music to my ears. Then I heard something most unbelievable. "Look." It was the voice of one of my cousins, my aunt's daughter. She was 14, and I also had fantasies about her sometimes. I could only imagine who she was talking to. No doubt it was her brother who is 15 years old. Those two shuffled in as what Aunt Dana and I were doing is normal. Tina, my cousin, came around the couch and rubbed my bare chest. I couldn't believe it. Then she rubbed her mom's chest. All the while she is still riding me. She finally stopped and lifted off of me. Again I was on the brink of cumming. She got off of me and started kissing Brian, her son. He returned her embrace, and the two kissed passionately. While I was watching them, Tina put her arms around me and planted a passionate kiss on me. She was wearing a very tight dress and looked very sexy. With a leap of courage, I unzipped her dress while we were still embraced. I also undid her bra and started lightly rubbing down her back. She turned around and bent over onto the couch. She told me she wanted me to get her from behind, so I did. I bent over and kissed her neck as I pumped, first slowly and then speeding up. Her pussy became increasingly slick as she came on my dick. She reached down and rubbed her clit, and she jerked her way through orgasm. Then I came too, right inside her. It felt so good. I always came in paper towels, but now I actually came in a pussy. Brian and Dana were still at it on the other side of the couch. She was laid back on the couch, and he was on top of her, pumping in and out. Then he started cumming inside her, and they kissed. Needless to say, things have not been the same since then. I spent an enormous amount of time with my new favorite aunt and favorite cousins. My parents never found out, and it was safe to just go to my aunt's house and watch a flick without ever being caught by someone who could cause trouble. Even though I didn't have to, I still masturbated from time to time, and I got chances to fuck both Tina and Dana throughout the week. After a few months, Brian and I even started giving each other blow jobs. I was a senior in high school, and Brian was a freshman. Neither of us had been with anyone besides his sister and mother and each other. So we started looking for ways to be more adventurous with our sex lives. We tried to think of things we could do at school without being caught. When no one was watching, we snuck in fondles on each other in the halls. We never had any classes together, but we did have lunch together. This opened up some possibilities. During the spring, it was common for some students to go outside during the lunchtime.There was a courtyard, a basketball court, and a park-like area with a few swings and trees. Trees also marked the property boundaries of the school. The outside area was bordered by the back yard border. The area was woody, and it was easy to slip into the wood area where you could not be seen. Brian and I set out to do this one day. We decided to skip lunch altogether so that we could get outside before the rest of the students. We got out there and into the trees before any other students came out. We made sure that we were well out of sight before we started kissing. He made it a point to bring out a bottle of lotion in his pocket, and so we pulled our pants down and used his lotion to masturbate. We told each other about girls we were attracted to to fill our imagination. We had never done it before, but on that same day, we set out to fuck each other. He bent over and supported himself by holding on to a tree while I lotioned his ass and prepared to stick my prick in. I bent myself over him and used one of my hands to guide my dick into his ass. I started slowly, like the internet stories said to do. I got deeper with each pump, and it started becoming easy. I used my other hand to play with his dick. He moaned in pleasure as I rammed my cock into his ass, harder as I became more comfortable with what I was doing. It did not take long before I was ready to cum. I pulled out, and he kneeled down and started sucking my dick. When he deep-throated me, I could not take it anymore, and I came in his mouth. He stood up, and we kissed again. This was the first time we had ever kissed after a blowjob, but it was nice. By this time, lunch time was over, and we had to head for class. We were afraid to emerge from the woods while other students were still outside, so we thought it would be in the best interest to be late. We weren't usually late, but it was not uncommon at our school, so it would not be a big problem.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/7660.txt

Andrew Roller

Fevered Fall

"Why are we wearing swimming suits?" I yelled. My voice was high-pitched. I was snug in my pajamas and didn't feel like changing. "Because we're going to get wet," Rebecca called out to me. I was in the den. She was in the kitchen. Her voice was cool, icy, like the air outside. Autumn was here. Brad was gone, back in college. There was just my auntie and me, staring ahead into a long weekend, by ourselves, bored. Until, that is, she told me at 10 o'clock on a Saturday morning to put my bikini on. "But I want to watch Scooby Doo!" I told her. The TV blared in front of me. I munched on a plate of cheese crackers. "Chloe, put your bikini on!" my aunt told me. Her voice sounded tense. "But she doesn't even have a pool," I said. My aunt came into the den. She looked stunning in a bikini so small it barely covered her pubis below, while her lustrous bosoms jiggled in a brassiere that seemed made from two postage stamps, and a string. She tossed her brown hair. It was a long, thick mane of hair, tumbling over her shoulders and covering her far better than her swimsuit did! She reached down and pried the remote control out of my hand. "It looks like trouble, Scooby!" Shaggy was declaring on the TV. CLICK. "Auntie, I like that episode!" I complained. "I want to go see Helene," Rebecca said. "And I'm afraid to go alone." Her eyes grew larger. "I'm afraid... of what she might do to me if I'm all by myself." I looked up at my aunt. She fidgeted with the remote control. She looked as if she was fighting a desire to turn the TV back on, and sit down with me and watch it. "I don't want my bottom to hurt again, like it did the last time we visited her, auntie," I said in a hushed voice. Instinctively my aunt put a hand behind her, and touched her own fanny. I stared up at her, her hips thrust forward, her hand on her ass, clutching my remote like a talisman, a key to my innocent childhood if she flicked it on, or not, if she didn't. "Oh, Chloe!" my auntie said, looking down at me. "What shall I do? I met this really cool guy, in Helene's shop yesterday, and I'm utterly infatuated with him! Yet he lives with Helene, and to see him, I've got to see her." "What happened to Johnnie?" I asked. "I-I don't know," my aunt answered, hearing me, but not really listening. "He moved on. They parted. Now she has a new guy, named David. And he's reputed to have... to have..." "Yes?" I asked. "Well, they've nicknamed him the fire hose," my aunt told me. "The fire hose?" I asked. "Because he's so long," my aunt said. "Hot diggety!" I said. I leapt up. I wiped the back of my hand across my face to get all the crumbs off it. We arrived at Helene's dressed demurely, wearing the latest fall fashions. I had on a plaid skirt and a modest, lace-trimmed blouse. I was wearing my beaded flower jewelry that I'd gotten the previous day out of a gumball machine. It wasn't the most fashionable way to purchase jewelry, but I thought the little beads were pretty cool, and I liked the small flowers. I had a necklace, a wristlet, and, over one of my white socks, an anklet of beads. My aunt was dressed in a tunic with a fluttered hemline. It had long sleeves that had cuffs, she'd buttoned both cuffs, giving her a very prim look. Over her light tunic she'd pulled a thick pebble-colored turtleneck sweater. She wore a matching peaked cap on her head, oversized, that gave her small, delicate features an even more pampered and adorable look. With her tunic she wore pinstriped pants, as if dressed for a fashionable but conservative day at the office. Fingerless mittens completed her ensemble, keeping the brisk air from chapping her hands. I had on big, thick, winter mittens, plus earmuffs. Of course nobody who saw us get out of the taxi, let alone the cab's driver, knew we wore not underwear but the smallest of swimsuits under our autumn clothes. Helene met us at the door. She smiled, her eyes sharp as a cat's as she gazed out at us from behind a pair of round, wire-rimmed glasses. Her hair was pinned up, neatly. She looked like a librarian. The sight of her sent a thrill of wonder through me because I knew, behind that peaceful facade, lay one of the wildest, most decadent women I'd ever met. She took my mittened hand, drew me inside. She offered to remove the jacket I wore. I turned, she slipped it off me. I felt a thrill as her hands passed over my small, 13-year-old shoulders. She handled me like a mother, and yet she was so utterly depraved, so cruel! "We only came to see the fireman," I told Helene, hoping to dissuade any thoughts she had of taking us downstairs to her basement. "He is here?" my aunt asked, a touch of nervousness in her voice. Helene looked at her. "Of course," Helene answered. "Such a lovely turtleneck you've got on, dear. Please take it off." Oh, how her words sent a chill through me! She could be so direct, so blunt, so in control! She knew we'd been here before and I realized she wasn't going to beat around the bush this time. There was nothing to hide, we'd tasted her 'hospitality' before and yet chosen to come again! "Can we see the fireman?" I blurted, feeling fright rise up within me and yet somehow drawn to the feelings she sent washing through me. My knees trembled. She hung up my jacket in a closet by the door and then turned me to face her and began unbuttoning my blouse. "Oh, good. You've come prepared in your bikini," Helene said, gazing within my blouse as she undid the buttons. "Must we get out of our things so soon?" my aunt asked. Her voice was high, quavering. She sounded like a child wishing to avoid a spanking. (Which, when you think about it, wasn't so far off from the truth!) "Yes, we'll party in the living room. Just your bikinis will be needed," Helene said. "My aunt wore a really small bikini," I told Helene. "I'm sure David will be impressed," Helene replied. Our hostess did not disrobe herself. Instead, she concentrated on my aunt and me, stripping us down until only our bikinis remained. I was allowed to keep on my frilled, ankle high socks, as well as my open-toed heels. She let me wear my beaded flower jewelry. My aunt was permitted to wear her peaked cap, but nothing else, save her swimsuit, and the black knee-length boots she'd arrived in. Helene smiled at us. She escorted us into a sitting room along the side of her house. I could see the neighbor's yard through the window. Helene closed the curtains, blocking out the view. Then she lit the room's lamps and seated us. The doorbell sounded, just as my aunt and I sat down. I sat on a richly patterned cloth sofa. My aunt sat across from me in a thickly upholstered chair. "Please make yourselves comfortable. I'll be back in a minute," Helene smiled at myself and my aunt. The room had a placid, conservative appearance to it. I felt myself relax as I gazed around. We might have been in the sitting room of a middle-aged lady, a widow even, the room was so pleasantly ordinary. Some knick-knacks rested on a shelf. A mantle held twin candles, unlit, for it was only noon. A fireplace glowed with almost extinguished coals, a remnant of a fire the previous evening or, perhaps, a half-hearted attempt to ward off the slight chill in the room. The light from the sun outside, filtered by the overhead clouds, seeped in past the edges of the room's curtains. The lamps glowed, softly, sedately. There was an air of complete and utter safety within the four walls of that room. Oh, how deceptive Helene could be! A brunette stepped into the room. She was, I learned later, only 17, but she looked like a young, professional woman. She had short hair. It bobbed with enthusiasm as she walked. It hung to her shoulders.Her eyes were big and round, open with a sense of delighted wonder. She smiled at Rebecca. She smiled at me. She was nude, save for her bikini, and a pair of expensive lime green sneakers. She had small ankle-high socks on her feet. Her bikini was red. She had just a tinge of a summer tan. Her cheeks were bright and rosy. Her mouth looked like rose petals, formed in a little "o." She regarded both my aunt and myself with the eagerness of a hiker joining two more experienced climbers. "Hi!" the brunette said. "Hello," my aunt replied. The brunette sat down in a brocaded love seat. Immediately afterward, a man entered the room. He was dressed in a Speedo swimsuit. He was, I guessed, the husband or lover of the brunette. He headed toward her, grinning at Rebecca and myself as he passed us. "No, Alan. Over here," Helene said, coming into the sitting room after him. She pointed to a chair on the other side of the room from his girlfriend. "But I want to sit with Audrey," Alan said. "I know what you want to do. And I know what you'll want to do in a few minutes too," Helene told him with a smile. "Over here, please." The man obeyed. He was young, perhaps half a decade older than Audrey, but no more. There was a vigorousness to his walk that I much admired. He was tall and strong, yet quite willing to let Helene put him wherever she wished. He sat down in a chair facing us. We all faced each other, all four of us sitting in separate chairs. We all wore swimsuits, except Helene. She wore a side-buttoned tunic, all black, with slim, efficient sleeves. She had a pair of booties on her feet with four buckles each, none of them merely for show. She picked up a pair of leather gloves off a small deal table and slipped them on. She had placed on her head a prim, mohair crusher hat. With her glasses, her hat, her gloves, her boots and her long, ankle-length dress, she offered us no glimpse of herself, though I knew it wasn't from any embarrassment about her figure. I'd seen her undressed before; she had a spectacular bosom and a waist that was very slim, with hips that rolled when she walked in a highly sexy manner. Even within her dress, the roll of her hips and the swell of her bosoms was intoxicating. I watched as Alan stared at her, visibly impressed. He might have wished that he was less taken by her, for his interest in her showed immediately to us all by a swelling of his loins in his swimsuit. Helene rubbed her gloved hands together. Her eyes passed over us. She nodded appreciatively at the growth in the front of Alan's swimsuit. Yet she smiled as well at Audrey, and my aunt. She gazed at my aunt in her miniscule bikini, drinking in the sight of her bosoms in their little postage stamp cups. Lastly, her eyes fell on me, and I was eager when they did, for I wished her to admire me as much as the others. I squirmed under her eyes. I thrust forward my breasts and blushed when Helene regarded them with frank admiration. How strange it is to desire attention from someone, especially when you know that someone has wicked plans for you! "I am so glad you four could come and be with me today," Helene said. "Rebecca, you are so brave to come back, what a delight it is to see you again. And you've spared nothing in showing us your beauty." We looked at her. My aunt blushed. She looked so tempting, so incongruous, seated in the big upholstered chair in a teensy bikini. "And Chloe, how courageous you are! Only 13, and such an adventurer!" "I'm only here to see the fireman," I told her. "Yes, dear. Of course," Helene said. She turned her gaze, and ours, upon Audrey. "How bold it is for you to wish to experience French sexuality!" she said to Audrey. The girl flushed. She was dressed in a small bikini, not one as skimpy as my aunt's but still one that would cause a commotion if it were worn at a public pool. Perhaps in an attempt at modesty, she had her legs crossed. "Audrey, it is important that you obey when I tell you to do something," Helene said. "Yes," Audrey replied. She uncrossed her legs. "Open them," Helene told her. The girl blushed, smiled, looked at me, then at my aunt. I sat with my thighs together but, fortunately, I hadn't crossed them, not thinking about it, just not doing it. My aunt's legs were the same as mine. "Open them," Helene said again. Audrey parted her thighs. "More," Helene said. Audrey obeyed. "All of you, open your legs, scoot your hips forward on the chairs, and offer yourselves to each other!" Helene snapped. We did as she asked. I felt silly, spreading my legs and shoving forward my vulva, but I did it. We presented our genitals to each other, thankful, I'm sure, each of us, that we had at least our swimsuits on. But for how long? Helene smiled. She seemed pleased by our display. She turned and called out a name: "David!" A man walked into the room. He was very tall. He had long legs, like a runner, but a powerful chest. He was clad in a swimsuit, a racing swimsuit, like the one Alan wore. I noticed immediately that his swimsuit was quite full in front. A prong-like protrusion thrust forward from the front of his suit, like Alan's, but even bigger, so big in fact that I felt an immediate wetness in the cleft of my pussy at the sight of him. I knew then I was doomed. Up 'til then we had just been playing; we might don our clothes again, and depart, who was to stop us? We might blush and say we thought Helene owned a pool, how tragic she didn't, we must be off, we wished to swim. We might even leave with Alan and Audrey, leaving Helene in her gloves and her hat to play with herself, stealing her new friends from her. But upon seeing David, I knew all my hopes of escaping Helene's intentions were lost. He was too handsome. I had to have more! How long and tempting he looked! I scolded myself as I lusted over his crotch; it did me no good, I wanted him and I had to have him. So did my aunt. She stared at his loins with frank, hungry eyes. She ran her tongue over her lips. She leaned forward, then fell back in her chair, remembering Helene's admonition, and offered her thrust-forward vulva to his eyes. David paid no attention; he carried a tray. It had a silver teapot on it, some china cups, and something else: a riding crop. Deftly Helene plucked the crop from the tray. Then David set the tray down on a low coffee table that sat in the middle of the room. My eyes tore themselves from David and I glanced at Audrey. Was she from America? She seemed young and eager, like Americans do when they're in France. At the same time, she seemed shy, glancing at David and then away from him, then back again. Each time her eyes fell on his crotch they lingered a second longer. Oh, I felt like such a slut! I think us girls want to meet a man who makes us feel that way. We resent the word: slut. But in the end that's how we want to feel, reduced to raw emotion, wet between our legs and wanting it, no matter what, wanting it all, despite the risks that come with it. I wanted David. I watched with fascination as he set down the tea tray on the coffee table. He had such lean, long legs, such a long, broadly-shouldered back. Such a slim waist. But for the fact that he was attired in a small swimsuit, you would have thought him a butler in a fine restaurant, so haughty was his bearing. He paid no attention to me, none to Helene in her postage stamp swimsuit, none to Audrey. His eyes briefly met Alan's, one man greeting another, but that was all. We girls were nothing to him. "May I be excused?" David asked Helene, after he'd set down the tray. "No you may not, David," Helene said. "I want you to pour everyone their tea. Ladies first." Carefully, expertly, with refined grace, David poured tea into the several tea cups. I marveled at his diffidence. He wished not to serve us but, being commanded to by Helene, he wished to do his very best at it. And he was quite well-trained, I saw. How did he pick up such skills? He looked like an athlete, yet he handled the tea service as well as any British-trained butler. "Your tea, madam," David said, offering me the first cup. I was shocked at how he spoke to me. Usually when someone addresses me, it's with obvious and overt reference to my youth. They'll even usually say, 'Gosh, how young you are!' Perhaps they'll even ask why I'm present. Shouldn't I be home tucked in bed? (Or, given that it was a Saturday, off at Girl Scouts or something?) David, I saw, was not like that. He handed me my tea cup with such deference! He acted like I was a grown woman, at a glorious midnight ball, yet I was in fact just a girl in a swimsuit. "How does it taste?" David asked me. "Taste?" I asked, holding the cup. I tried desperately to remember how to hold it the right way; wasn't there something about sticking one of your fingers out when you held a tea cup? Was it your middle finger? No, it couldn't be that one; I'd be telling David 'fuck you' if I stuck out my middle finger. I settled on holding out my pointing finger, nearly spilling my tea in my lap when I stuck it out. "If the tea is unsatisfactory I'll brew another," David told me. "No, it's fine. I think..." I said. I sipped it. It tasted wonderful. "Good," David said. "You'll be drinking a lot of it." "I will?" I asked over the rim of my cup. "It's a pee party. We're all going to drink until we pee. Didn't you know that?" David asked me. My eyes glanced instinctively at David's crotch. "Are you... going to pee?" I asked him. "Yes, of course.Hopefully after you, so it's you who'll feel Helene's crop on your ass instead of me. Like I said, by then all was lost. There was no way I could have dragged myself out of Helene's after seeing David and his big packet. Slut! I wanted to cry to myself. But I buried that self-deprecation deep down in my tummy and enjoyed the warm feeling I felt there whenever my eyes fell upon David's loins. He served us. Oh, how gentle and thoughtful he was! How his muscles rippled in the soft light of the room! How his penis bulged in his racing-style swimsuit! I felt utterly thrilled when I watched David serve Alan. Both men were equally bare, both of them clad in just Speedo swimsuits. One poured tea for the other as if he were a diplomat, yet in truth, I think, neither guy had anything going for him except for the fact that they were both totally handsome. Helene watched over us, pleased at our acquiescence in her game. "And now you must remove your swimsuits," Helene said. She glanced at Audrey, knowing the new girl would be the most recalcitrant. "Don't worry, my dear. Just the bottom is all you need remove right now. Keep your bra on, if you wish. This is, after all, a pee party. It's the loins we must see to enjoy the full depravity of our celebration." "Oh, I shall want to pee soon!" Audrey said, taking another sip from her tea cup. "Yes, and you'll do it right here," Helene said. "In the living room?" I blurted. "Yes. Do it right on the chair," Helene said. "Isn't that rather expensive?" my aunt asked. I remembered us playing Monopoly, and how she'd insisted we play on a mat, to protect her carpet. "Some people spend $2,000 on a bottle of wine," Helene said. "I serve quality tea, which is far cheaper than wine, and prefer to spend my money reupholstering my furniture. And besides," she said. "Have you not noticed the cameras in the four corners of the room? You're all being filmed. For posterity, for yourselves to have something to keep, after we're finished, and, with your permission, for me to share with others, perhaps for a fee." "No!" Audrey cried. "Honey, you'll do just as she says," Alan told the girl across the room from him. She gaped at him. He let David take the half-finished cup of tea from his hand and, with the man holding his steaming cup and waiting, Alan thrust his hands into his swimsuit. He liberated his cock. It jutted forth, wiggling in the air like a charmed snake, standing upright from the flatness of his lower belly. "You're well endowed, sir," David told Alan. I felt myself flush all over. Imagine, David with his obviously huge endowment complimenting Alan! In truth, Alan had one of the finest cocks I'd ever seen, yet I knew David must surely be even bigger. I was glad, suddenly, that Brad had gone back to college. I liked him, but I feared that here, at Helene's, with these two men, I might be inspired to do things I wouldn't want even my love Brad to know about. "Thanks. Why don't you show me yours?" Alan asked. He was blushing slightly. He looked up at David. "Of course, David. I think the girls have all come to see it," Helene said softly. She slapped her riding crop against the open palm of her other hand. The crisp reply of the leather crop against her leather glove sent a strange thrill through us. I blushed, my aunt showed color in her cheeks, Audrey held her bikini bottom in her fingers as if she might somehow escape having to take it off. David shoved down his swimsuit. His dick popped out. I was startled by the sight of it; it was, indeed, long and thick like a fire hose. I tried to speak, found my throat dry. Finally I said, in a small, croaking voice, not at all like my usual voice, "It's a wonder of the world." "Yes! We here in France have the eighth wonder of the world," Helene smiled. "Even if David hails from Yugoslavia." She smiled at him. "How fortunate that the East has been liberated," she said. "You are kind to let me work in your shop, and I'm proud to show you my natural endowments," David said warmly to Helene. "But I would prefer to be lifting weights. I want to go to America someday and replace Arnold Schwarzenegger." "Perhaps Chloe will take you," Helene told him. "Yes! You can sleep in my bedroom with me!" I blurted. "I mean, in my house," I said. "You can come to America with me! I'm from America!" Audrey told him. Then she looked at Alan. "With my boyfriend's permission, of course," she added. "God, what a threesome that would make," my aunt said. She had set her teacup on the arm of her chair and was pulling on her panties. I don't think she was even of a rational mind anymore as she yanked down the front of her panties, then lifted her ass and pulled her panties down off her hips. How small her bikini was, yet upon seeing David's endowment she couldn't remain clothed even in it! "Girls, get your bottoms off," Helene said. "Then give them to me. All of you, even you men." She let David get his suit off and then accepted it from him. She peered within it. "You've drooled some pre-cum into your suit, David," she said. "Sorry," David answered. Helene came over to me. I handed her my panties. She felt the crotch of them. "They're wet," she told me. "I didn't mean to get so excited," I told her. I blushed. I realized I was now sitting on her expensive, brocaded couch, with my moistened pussy lips pressed into the comfy fabric of the seat. "I can sit on the floor if you like," I said. "No, sit right there, darling," Helene said. "I'm happy to have your juicy pussy on my couch. You're going to get it quite a lot wetter in a few minutes." "Oh, can't we go pee in the bathroom?" I asked her. "No. You'll all drink and pee right here, with your legs open, and your hips thrust forward, admiring each other's sex," Helene said. "The last one to pee wins. The others," she let her voice trail off. She knew Rebecca and I were keen on her friend David, and not on her manner of partying. (At least, I hoped my auntie wasn't. Sometimes she was a bit unusual in her desires.) "Oh, this is so naughty!" Audrey said. She looked at her boyfriend. He gazed at her and let her know with his eyes that she would be doing just as Helene wished. Audrey gulped, and smiled. Then the eagerness returned to her gaze and I saw that her shyness was partly heartfelt, and perhaps partly affected. We undressed. We got off our bottoms, all of us, and handed them to Helene. She held our swimsuits in her gloved hands. How small and insubstantial they looked! Even the men's swimsuits were just morsels of rayon. She turned. She went to the fireplace. She took a poker from the fireset beside the fireplace. She prodded the burnt logs in the hearth and made the flames rise a little. Then, one by one, to our great shock, she tossed our swimsuits into the fire. "Now, though summer is gone, we're going to pretend it's still here," Helene said. She took down a single tube of sunscreen from the mantle over the fire. "Chloe, this is tangerine flavored Sun Smacker sunscreen," Helene said. "I want you to spread it all over your lips, just like lipstick. You've used sunscreen before, haven't you?" she asked me. "A little," I said. I usually didn't bother with suntan lotion or anything, if I could help it. The sun and me seemed to get along pretty well. Why bother smearing stuff all over your face if you just tanned naturally? "I don't really need it," I said, hesitating, as Helene handed me the stick of sunscreen. Helene laughed. "None of us need it. We're indoors, Chloe," she said. "Oh, yeah," I replied. I put on the sunscreen. It tasted good. Helene got sticks of sunscreen off the mantle for the others, adult brands of sunscreen. Rebecca looked lovely spreading it over her lips. Audrey asked for a mirror; Helene got one off the mantle, a small, hand-held mirror, and handed it to her. "Keep drinking," Helene told us. "Just because we're pretending it's still summer doesn't mean you can't stop drinking. Pretend it's very hot, and you must drink and drink to beat the heat." "I want to beat my meat," Alan confessed. He gazed at his big cock, standing up lewdly off his belly. "Of course you do, darling," Helene said. "And I want to beat your ass. I hope you lose our little contest." "God, you're such a woman!" Alan said. "Do you have to wear that dress? What a great figure you have! I want to see you naked!" "Imagine me fully dressed, Alan, just like I am now, and you bending over bare-assed in front of me, receiving my crop on your bottom," Helene told him. "That's it. I'm peeing right now!" Alan said. "No, Alan," Helene said. "This is a contest. I want to see you squirm in your chair for many minutes before you pee." I shivered. I couldn't believe what we were doing. I glanced up at the cameras in the four corners of the room. Surely I should spring up, demand my clothes back, and leave! But the sight of David's cock kept me bolted to the sofa. I watched, mesmerized, as he refilled all our tea cups. Whenever somebody emptied their cup he was there immediately, giving them more, forcing them to accept more into their cup. How erotic it looked to see him pour tea from the spout of the tea cup, with his long cock sticking out from his body! We drank. I saw Rebecca shift her hips. I looked at her. She blushed. "Oh, I do have to pee! Can't I just get up and go use the toilet?" Audrey asked. "No, Audrey," Helene said."Savor your vacation in France. Let yourself relax and enjoy the feeling of your belly filling up with fine French tea. When it's quite impossible to hold it any longer, tell us, and then pee right here, with your boyfriend and David staring at your open legs as you flood my expensive chair with pee." "Oh, this is horrible!" Audrey said. She looked at me, at my aunt. Rebecca's eyes were half-lidded. Her lips sparkled with the lip gloss. She ran her fingers across her tummy, and I knew what she wished to do. The same thing I yearned to; to diddle my slit and beg big David to thrust himself up me! "I feel like a slut," I confessed. "A slut?" Helene said. "Why, because you are obeying me? Do you want to feel my crop on your bottom, Chloe?" "No!" I said. "Then you'll do just as I tell you, and you'll not feel like a slut, because you have no choice in the matter," Helene said. No choice! The thought made me gasp. What if Helene made me Do It with David, would I be a slut then? Surely I could not be. No matter how he fucked me, no matter how wild and depraved we were, it would all be okay, because Helene had commanded it! "But-- but I shouldn't have come," I said meekly. "And why did you?" Helene asked me. "To-- to see the fireman," I said. "You mean David?" Helene asked. "Yes," I said. "It is quite healthy for a girl to want to see a man, especially a man as fine as David," Helene assured me. "Spread your legs wider, Chloe. I insist. And have more tea. David, please serve her." I admit, after that, I didn't think anymore about being a slut. I was in Helene's house, under her authority. I was like a puppy who, yearning for a master, had found one. I opened my legs wider and let my eyes frankly admire David as he poured my tea. I blushed, but it was involuntary, I refused to feel shy about my desires anymore. I sipped my tea, and watched David's cock bob as he walked around the room. I imagined it peeing. Would it look like the discharge of a fire hose when he peed? "I have another treat for you, my fair guests," Helene said. She was still standing, watching over us as a mother hen does her chicks. She took down a bottle of L'Oreal hair scent from the mantle. It had been hidden behind a small, sedate doll poised in her Sunday best on the mantelpiece, dressed for church. She handed me the bottle. "You first, Chloe," Helene said. "What am I supposed to do?" I said. I took the plastic cap off the bottle. Slightly confused, I lifted the bottle to my head. My mane of hair was well-brushed and neatly arranged, but if she wanted me to scent it for her, I had no objection. "Not the hair on your head, Chloe," Helene said. "Spritz your pubic hair with it." "You want me to perfume my bush?" I asked. My eyes were wide. I was wearing cologne, just a little; it seemed rather an insult to tell me I needed more, especially on my bush! "It is only for the eroticism of it, Chloe," Helene told me. "A game; while we're waiting for our bladders to fill." I wondered at that. She, after all, had barely touched the cup of tea David had poured for her. Nonetheless, I aimed the hair scent at my bush and spritzed some on. How delicious it felt! How decadent! Everyone watched me as I sprayed my dell. Helene took the hair scent from me. She gave it to David! "You next," she said. "But this is girl's perfume!" David said. "Spray it on your cock anyway," Helene told him. "God, imagine, the future Arnold Schwarzenegger, spraying his dick with girl's perfume," David groused. Nonetheless he squirted it into his bush, and up and down the length of his long cock. He stiffened as he did it. He was already erect, but he became thicker and even longer as he put the perfume on his manhood. "Now give it to Alan," Helene ordered. "This is ridiculous," Alan said, taking the perfume from David. "I know you men just want to fuck, but today we're going to do small, delicate things first," Helene said. "Tiny acts, carefully performed, and devoted to the parts of ourselves we usually keep hidden." "Oh, can't I just slip out and pee and then come back?" Audrey asked. "I do have to go quite badly!" "I'm starting to have to go pretty bad too," I confessed. I squirmed in my seat. How lovely the rich, brocaded cushion of the couch felt against my bare bottom! I glanced up at Helene, holding her crop. She smiled and said, "The first one to pee will be punished when we go downstairs, as well as the rest of you, all except for the winner." "What about you? You're hardly drinking anything!" I told her. Helene looked at me. "Yes, Chloe. That's because I intend for you to pee for me, not vice versa," Helene said. Oh, how wicked it was! We all perfumed our genitals, waiting all the while for them to sprout with pee! I sucked in my tummy and tried not to think about my growing need to go to the bathroom. Imagine-- using a sedate sitting room to pee in! And doing it right on the furniture! All the while cameras recorded our every squirm, our every pee-induced movement. How could Rebecca put herself and me in such a predicament? And yet, like her, I yearned to see David pee with his big fire hose penis. I sat in my chair with increasing agitation. "Next I've got some Raspberry Fantasy body lotion for us," Helene, still completely clothed in her side-buttoned tunic, informed us. She took the bottle down from behind another doll on the mantle. She handed it to Alan. "You first, honey," she said, with an intimacy that made Alan's girlfriend, Audrey, bite her lip and frown. "What am I supposed to do with this? This is for girls too!" Alan protested. I savored the sight of his cock, sticking up firm and hard from his belly. How sweet it smelled from across the room, now that he'd been forced to douse it with perfume! "I want you to make your penis all slick and oily by squirting this body lotion all over it," Helene told Alan. "Raspberry Fantasy body lotion?" Alan asked. "I'll smell like a fucking fruit!" "Don't go by a gay bar on your way home," David laughed. "You have to put it on too, darling," Helene said, turning to David. "Why don't you gentlemen do each other? I'm sure we girls would love seeing it. Here, David, you take the bottle. Squirt the lotion all over Alan's penis. Then Alan, you do the same for David." What a delight that was! Seeing two big men, forced by Helen to oil up each other's dicks. I glanced at Rebecca. She watched, wide-eyed, as did I. I felt a wave of affection for her. She didn't make the best choices when it came to safe partying, but she sure knew how to find erotic places for us to go! "And now," Helene said, when the men were oiled, and all of us had perfumed our sex. "There remains one part of ourselves that has yet to be dealt with. She grinned. "The nipples." "What?" Rebecca gasped. "You thought because I let you keep your bra on, that it would stay on forever? No, no," Helene said. "Girls, I want your bras now. And yes, they'll be burned in the fire, just like your panties. David, go around and collect the girls' bras. No resisting, girls, or I'll let you feel my crop on your fannies a lot sooner than you'd prefer!" We took off our tops. We were naked now, except for our shoes. How silly I felt, sitting on the couch in my beaded flower jewelry, white socks on my feet, and open-toed heels, my slit perfumed, my sex moistening the chair I sat on! I showed my breasts. My nipples were hard, excited. David remarked on their condition as he took my top from me. I blushed. Audrey again begged to be allowed to pee, only to be told by Helene that she could pee whenever she wished. "Oh, but not here! Not in front of everyone! And the cameras!" Audrey said. "Be good!" Alan barked, from across the room. "Oh, Alan, dear, I don't want to--" SWICK! The sharp crack of Helene's crop sounded in the room. "Yeeeeek!" Audrey said. We all stared at her. A red line formed on her right thigh, where Helene had slapped her. "Shall I do the other?" Helene asked, holding her crop aloft over Audrey's other leg. The girl squirmed, tried closing her legs, then immediately opened them again, lest she incur Helen's wrath. "N-No," Audrey said. She sat with her mount well-displayed, well-disciplined now, offering us a perfect view of her slit and moving her hips just a little. "But, oh, I do SO have to go!" Audrey said. "Then pee," Helene answered her. "Oh, but I mustn't, not on the--" Suddenly, to our great surprise, Audrey began pissing! Her pee sprouted from between her lovelips and wet the chair she was sitting in. She tried rising; Helene clapped a hand on her shoulder. The girl stood in a half-risen pose for a moment, peeing down into the chair. Then she plopped down onto the love seat again. She continued relieving herself. A low moan escaped from her throat. She looked down at her dell and watched in horror as her pee flooded over the seat cushion. "Very good," Helene said. "You lose, and will have to be spanked, but you did a nice job peeing." "Oh, I don't want to be spanked!" Audrey said. But she sat in her pee, not moving, and I realized then that she did, in fact, wish to taste the crop, just a little. Helene stood over her and smiled down at her. "You've done well, Audrey," Helene said. "Soon we'll see how well your boyfriend does. Have some more tea." "Yes, ma'am," Audrey said.And she picked up her teacup off the arm of the sofa and drank from it just as before, despite the fact that she was sitting in a big puddle of her own pee! "None of you will be seeing a bathroom before tomorrow morning, so you'd better get used to the idea of not having a toilet around," Helene told us. "Chloe, don't you have to go?" she asked me. "Yes!" I said. "Then go, dear. Let's see you pee on the sofa." "Oh, but it's so pretty and--" I said. "Whenever you're ready. Right there where you're sitting," Helene told me. "It's not so bad," Audrey told me, over the rim of her teacup. "It just feels a little... wet." Suddenly David erupted. He was pouring tea for my aunt, his hips barely moving, barely betraying his need, when suddenly his penis squirted pee all over her thighs. Rebecca screamed. She held her teacup for David, receiving the tea from the silver tea kettle, while watching simultaneously the pee spring from his penis. David tried moving, the result was his pee went right into her cup! "Oh! Oh!" my aunt shouted. "I'm sorry, I--" David stammered. I watched as he squeezed his ass cheeks and tried cutting off the flow of his pee. No use! He kept peeing and peeing, drenching the teacup. My aunt moved; the cup overflowed and she barely avoided having hot tea splash down into her lap. David moved again, his stream of pee cascaded directly onto my aunt's bare legs. "Oh, God!" my aunt cried. She lost all her reserve and began peeing too. David's pee showered her thighs as she offered her own golden tribute. I watched, fascinated. Only myself and Alan still managed to retain our urine. "Oh, I don't want to lose!" I said to Alan. "Please, go to the bathroom!" "I want to see you spanked," he grinned at me. "I can't hold it much longer," I said. My eyes pleaded with him. He smirked at me. "A guy can always hold himself longer than a girl," Alan told me. "You can forget about winning." "Pee! Please pee!" I begged. "Pee like David did." "Not a chance," Alan said. We sat staring at each other for several minutes. David got a napkin off the tea tray and wiped his pee from Rebecca's thighs. Audrey asked for a napkin but Helene told her 'no,' she only had her own pee wetting her legs, so she must learn to endure it. "I'm wet," Audrey said. She looked at me. "I don't want to be wet!" I said. "You're going to be," Alan said. "You too!" I told him. "Ladies first," Alan said. "Now, for your nipples, a very special treat," Helene said. She picked up a small black bag that had been sitting, unbeknownst to us, behind the couch I was seated on. She opened it. We stared at several pairs of scissors that she drew from the bag. "These are surgical scissors," Helene said. "As you can see, they have flattened blades at the end. They're meant to hold parts of the body open, for surgery. They work like tweezers. In our case, we're going to put one on each of our nipples, to clamp them." "Oh, why?" my aunt, sitting in pee, her cunt well-displayed, her nipples too hard, asked. Her eyes looked both shocked and excited by the proposal. "Because, like I said, we're going to do small, exquisite things first, to our private parts," Helene told her. "To tease. Then, later, we'll do rougher things." "I don't want my boobies clamped!" Audrey said. I looked at her. She had bright eyes. She bit her lower lip. She thrust forward her breasts. She was bashful, but not as much as she wished us to believe. I trembled. I was still trying to hold back my pee as Helene began her game with the scissors. She started with me. "Ouch!" I said, as the first of the scissors was applied to my breasts. Helene clamped my left breast with a pair of scissors, then my right. Two pairs of scissors were fastened onto me. How lewd I looked, with surgical scissors dangling from the tips of my breasts. I squirmed in my seat. The scissors hurt! Not impossibly, but enough that I would have torn them off myself, if only I could figure out how Helene had managed to get the handles of each scissors to fasten together. I gaped at my breasts. The scissors weighed down my breasts. They made them hang lower. "Oh, I'll have saggy tits!" I cried. "Nonsense, dear. You're only going to wear them a little while," Helene told me. I didn't want the scissors but I wasn't a doctor, so I didn't feel skilled enough to remove them. Helene wasn't a doctor either, but she obviously knew what she was doing. "Please, Helene, take them off!" I begged. "No," Helene said. "I have scissors on my tits," I said, bouncing in my chair, gaping at Rebecca. "I know," Rebecca said softly. "They hurt," I told her. Helene went over to my aunt. Rebecca watched as the first of the scissors was applied to her own breasts. "Ouch!" Rebecca said. "Yes, I'm nipping your nipples," Helene laughed. "Sit still, dear." "I can't!" my aunt said. Yet she stayed reasonably still as the other pair of scissors was pinched onto her other breast. Audrey watched, waiting, sipping her tea, looking disconsolate. Tingling and burning to pee, with my bottom seated comfortably if tight-cheeked on the couch, I waited for the inevitable to happen. There was not much time left. My bladder was bulging and I squirmed salaciously, drawing Alan's eyes to me and causing him to laugh that there was no way a girl could beat a boy in a peeing contest. "Everyone knows girls have bladders the size of peanuts," Alan told me. "I'm going to win!" I promised him. But I couldn't possibly imagine how. My tummy felt like it was going to burst! I squeezed my eyes shut. I tried not to think about the scissors clamped to my breasts. Oh, if only I had a pair of those scissors up inside me, to hold back my pee! I ran my fingers over my thighs. I clapped a hand to my vulva. "She's cheating," Alan said. "What? Squeezing your muffin?" Helene asked me. Through shut eyes I said, "I must GO!" "Let her squeeze her muffin if she thinks it can help her," Helene told Alan. "Can I rub my dick if it will help me?" Alan asked. "Of course not," Helene said. "I may not have a penis, but I know about jacking off. You men always spurt when you do that." "So, I'll jack and pee at the same time," Alan said. "My balls are full too." "And they'll stay full, young man," Helene said. "No jacking off in my sitting room." "Oh, GOD!" I cried. Suddenly I felt a significant wetness between my legs. My eyes flew open and I looked down at myself. "Oh, no! AM I DOING IT?!" I shouted. Alan laughed. I couldn't believe I was losing! I had tried so hard to win! As I watched, the lips of my vulva squirted pee all over the seat cushion I was sitting on. My dry seat became a wet seat. I was undone. "Ahhhhhh," Alan announced. Seeing that he had won, he released his pee with abandon. It sprouted from the tip of his penis and arced out across the room. It struck the coffee table. Some of his pee splattered onto the tea service sitting on the coffee table. David cleared his throat, meant to speak, then shrugged his shoulders. "Alan, you're peeing all over my tea kettle!" Helene scolded. She hurried over to the coffee table and slid the tray farther away from Alan. He laughed. He arched his hips. His pee shot in a longer arc and hit the tea kettle again. "Alan!" Helene shrieked. "I guess you'll have to whip my ass for that," Alan said. "Yes, I certainly will!" Helene assured him. "Oh, God. French sex!" Alan said. I saw that he'd come to Helene's to do more than just show himself. Like his girlfriend, he had a longing to find out what a sharply-applied crop felt like on his behind. I looked at the pee-stained kettle and guessed he wouldn't have long to wait.

Part 4 of 5

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/10670.txt

Schulzie

Kids SEE the Darndest Things

"That was really cool," said Kara. I turned to her and asked, "What? What was cool?" "The way that white stuff shot out of your dick, like a squirt gun," she giggled. "Yeah, you got some of it on me," Kristi said, looking at the drops of my cum on her arm. She touched it with her fingertips and said, "It IS sticky." "He got some on me, too," Kara said. "How about you, Sissy?" Sissy lifted her hand which was drenched with my creamy juice. "Oooh, your whole hand is covered with it," squealed Kristi. Kara asked, "You're not going to get pregnant are you, Sissy? I mean with all of his stuff on your hand." Sissy laughed. "It doesn't work like that, silly. It's got to go up inside your vagina to make a baby." "I've got so many questions about sex and stuff," Kristi said. "Can you teach us about sex, Rick?" "Yeah, can you, Rick?" Kara agreed. "Mom and Daddy never tell us anything." "Is there anything you can teach me, Rick?" asked Sissy, with a devilish look on her face. I suddenly felt like I had become the great guru of sex, these young girls clamoring around me, wanting to learn about sex. What was I going to do? I knew I was treading on dangerous ground here. Hell, this could turn into quicksand real quick if anyone found out I was messing around with underage girls, even if they did initiate it. But the idea of giving them some pointers about the noble subject of sex intrigued me. Especially with the way Sissy just looked up at me and batted her beautiful blue eyes at me. "We want to do it, too, Rick," said Kara. "Yeah!" said Kristi. "You want to do what?" I asked the twins. "We want to rub your dick and make it squirt, too," said Kara, "just like Sissy did. Only it's not hard anymore." The girls looked down at my flaccid cock. "Yeah, girls. Just like a squirt gun runs out of water, my dick needs a little refilling." They giggled. "It's going to take a little time, so why don't you just let me think about it for a while, okay? I really need to get dressed. I feel a little silly standing here naked while you are all dressed." "Would you like me to take my clothes off, Rick?" Sissy asked me, more with her eyes than with her words. God, did I want her to take her clothes off. I wanted to see her gorgeous body again like I did the other day, only now I wanted to see all of it, every inch. But I needed to think this thing through and consider all the risks. "Let me sleep on it...uh, that is...let me think about it, Sissy," I told her, hoping to clear my mind and make a smart choice. "We're only gonna be here a few more days, Rick," Sissy said, "Don't think about it too long. Come on, girls, let's go downstairs and let Rick get dressed." And off they went. Jesus, just the other day I was thinking Sissy was just a scared young virgin. But today, she was flirting with me like a brazen hussy. She acted like she wanted to get laid, I thought. What am I going to do about the twins? They're just ten years old, and they want to learn about sex. Betty told me they were mature for their age, but not this mature. I needed to talk to someone. Someone closer to my own age, yet open-minded enough to understand my problem without being judgmental and damning me to hell for thinking what I was thinking. I know, I thought, I'll call Molly. Molly, my old fuck-buddy. Molly and I always called each other up when either of us wanted or needed to get laid. We both knew it was nothing more than a physical act between us, nothing serious, no strings attached. We'd screw our asses off and call it a night without worrying about the next day. I liked Molly for a lot of reasons. She was damned good in bed for one thing. I knew of no one hotter than Molly. She was one sexy woman. I also enjoyed her kinky side. I knew she was bisexual. Once or twice, we had done a threesome; once with me, her and another woman and once with her, me and another guy. She was into a little bit of everything; mild bondage, a little s&m, a bit of roleplaying. "Whatever floats your boat," as she said quite often. But what I really appreciated about Molly was that she was a good friend. I could tell her anything. Nothing would shock her, but more importantly, her lips would be sealed. She wouldn't tell a soul. If I told her I was thinking about fooling around with a young teenage girl and do who-knows-what to two ten-year-olds, my secret would be safe with her. Besides, I knew she had played around with a few teenage boys, initiating them into sex. So I knew she would understand my dilemma. I dialed her number on the upstairs phone. "Hello," she said. "Hi, Molly. This is Rick," "Oh, hi, sweetie. It's been a couple of months. How have you been?" she said. "Couldn't be better," I told her, "Well, that's not quite true. That's why I called. I really need to talk to you. Are you free tonight?" "For you, I'm always free. You want me to come over to your place or do you want to come over to mine?" she asked, lustily. "Actually, I was thinking we could meet at The Dockside, have a couple of drinks, do dinner maybe..." "Ooooh, dinner! This must be something big. You're buying, I hope." "Yeah, dinner's on me. How about if we meet about 7? I just need to make sure I have a willing babysitter." "Babysitter? What the hell? Have you been keeping secrets from me? Since when do you have kids?" "I'll explain over dinner. It's been a strange week," I told her. "I'll bet it has. If you need a babysitter, you HAVE had a strange week. Okay, meet you at 7. Bye." Then I made dinner reservations at The Dockside. I went downstairs to see if Sissy would mind watching the girls tonight while I was out with Molly. When I told Sissy I had a dinner date, I couldn't tell from her reaction whether she was amused or jealous, but she agreed to "babysit" the girls. Molly and I met that night at 7 as planned, we chatted for a while, then after we had had a few drinks, we got down to business. "So, who are these kids you needed a babysitter for, Rick?" I told her about how I agreed to watch my cousins for them while they were away. I described the girls to Molly, carefully tiptoeing around the more sexual escapades of the last few days - at least for the first few minutes of the conversation. But then I mentioned how that first night, I discovered that Sissy wore no underwear under her cutoffs. Molly became quite interested when she heard that. Molly ordered another round of drinks for us. "You mean this fifteen-year-old girl was flashing her pussy at you?" asked Molly. I told her that at first I was sure it was all accidental, but now I wasn't so sure. "Why do you say that?" she wanted to know. That's when I began to fill Molly in on all the details of the last few days. I told her about Sissy's "accident" in the bathroom, about how I teased Sissy with my naked hard-on out on the bluff, how the twins had wrestled under the covers on top of my nude body, and finally describing the handjob Sissy had given me this morning in front of the twins. "Sounds like you've got quite a hot little number staying with you, Rick. And it seems like those twins are following right in their sister's footsteps," Molly said. "It sure does," I said, as I asked the bartender to bring us another round. We were quiet for a few minutes as we waited for the drinks, then Molly hit me with the big question. "So how badly do you want to fuck Sissy, Rick?" I gulped. "When did I say I wanted to fuck her?" I asked, somewhat defensively. "You've admitted it to me, but you haven't admitted it to yourself, have you, Rick?" Molly replied. She was right. I had been thinking about fucking Sissy, probably from the very beginning when she first stepped off the plane, most likely when I first got a peek at her cute little pussy under her cutoffs, quite possibly when I saw her naked body through that flimsy negligee she was wearing that first night, most definitely after that wonderful handjob she gave me this morning. "I guess I haven't thought about much else the last couple of days," I admitted. "And what about the twins?" Molly wanted to know. The twins were a different story. "They're a bit young, don't you think? I mean, I wouldn't feel right taking their virginity from them, but..." I paused, not being quite sure how to finish my sentence. "But, what?" Molly asked, leaning closer, taking my hand in hers. "They are very curious about sex, and...they do seem to want to do whatever Sissy does..." "So what are you going to do?" asked Molly, very seriously."You're wise to the ways of the world, Molly. What do you think I should do?" Molly laughed as she gulped down half of her drink. "Well, Rick, you know I've had my share of some young boys in my time. It was always fun. I kind of enjoyed being their first, you know." "Are you telling me I should go back home and fuck the shit out of Sissy and the twins?" I asked her. "Let's have one more drink, Rick. Then I'll give you my opinion." We had already downed several drinks and were feeling no pain. Feeling loose from the liquor, I began telling Molly even more details about the last few days, including how I teased Sissy out on the bluff by letting her get a look at my erect dick and practically taunting her to touch it. I may have been telling Molly more than I should have, but I could see that my tales were getting her excited. "You know what I would've done if it had been me out on the bluff with you," Molly said. "I would've sucked your socks off right through your cock!" That comment stirred my cock up pretty fast. Molly's cocksucking skills were superb, and the image of her in my mind, sucking me off on the bluff was giving me a hard-on. "Well? What's your opinion, Molly?" I asked her, anxious to know what she thought. "You wanna know what I think? Honestly?" Molly asked. "I think you should take me back to the house with you, let me meet Sissy and the twins, give me a chance to size them up. Then I'll be able to give you my best opinion." "You want to go now?" I asked. "We better, or pretty soon, neither one of us will be able to drive." All the way back to the house, Molly sat next to me in the car, her hand on my crotch, rubbing my already stiff cock. "My goodness," she commented, "you really are horny, aren't you? I may have to do something about that." When we got to the house, I introduced Molly to the girls. The twins were their usual bubbly, cheerful selves. Sissy, on the other hand, seemed a little reserved. At first, I thought there was a little tension between the teenager and Molly, but Molly soon broke the ice with her usual charm. We all talked for a while, then the twins decided to go to bed, leaving just Sissy, Molly and myself in the living room. "Rick tells me you are a very mature young woman, Sissy," Molly told her. For a minute, there was a nervous silence as Sissy looked at me, as if she was wondering whether I had told Molly about this morning. But again, Molly broke the tension. "Rick says your real name is Clarissa. That's such a feminine name. I think you should use that instead of Sissy." "Do you?" asked Sissy, who seemed flattered at the suggestion, "I want to use it again when I get to college, but as long as I'm living at home with my parents and the twins, I'll always be 'Sissy'." "I know how it is," Molly replied, "teenagers are always different when they're away from the parents. Aren't you?" "Well, uh, yeah...I am," Sissy answered, looking at me with a sly smile on her face. "Rick says you've been wonderful to have around the last couple of days, and I agree that you're a very nice person, Clarissa," Molly added. "Thank you," said Sissy, blushing a little. "Gosh, I hate to be a party pooper, but I'm getting sleepy. I'm going to bed. It was nice meeting you, Molly. Will I see you again before I have to go back home?" "You might even see me in the morning, sweetie," Molly told her, with a shit-eating grin on her face. Sissy looked at Molly, then at me, and a slow little smile broke out on her face. "Oh, I see, well, uh...see you then." Off to bed she went. As soon as Sissy was up the stairs and her door closed, Molly said, "And as for you..." Then she dropped to her knees, unzipped me, pulled my cock out and began sucking it, right there in the living room. God, her mouth felt so good as she began sucking my dick. But I was afraid one of the girls would make a surprise appearance at any moment and get a little surprise of her own. "Let's go upstairs, Molly." "I thought you'd never ask," Molly said. Once we got behind my bedroom door, Molly went crazy, almost tearing the clothes off of me. "Goddam, you've got me so horny," she said, as my shirt and pants came off in record time. "Everything you've told me about the last couple of days has gotten me so hot, I can't stand it." She yanked my shorts down, and started pulling her own clothes off. "You're right, Rick, Sissy is a hot, little chick and I think you oughta fuck her." Molly shoved me back on the bed, and straddled me. "Yes, I think you should fuck that young fox, just like I'm going to fuck you right now!" Molly rarely needed foreplay, she always seemed to be wet. She was very wet tonight, as she reached between us, grabbed my erect cock, and slid her hot pussy right down on it. "Unnnhhh!" Molly grunted, as she slammed down hard on my dick, and began humping me, her hips thrusting up and down on top of me. Molly loved to fuck. She especially loved to be on top. She could get herself off riding my cock faster than any woman I'd ever been with. "Oohhh!" she moaned, as she rode my dick for all she was worth. With each thrust downward on my hard shaft, she let out a moan or grunt, trying to make herself come. As she did, she reached behind herself with one hand and tickled my balls beneath her ass which drove me crazy. With her other hand, she diddled her clit. She pleasured herself to a fevered pitch until finally, she leaned forward, put her hands on my shoulders, and started pumping her pussy harder on my stiff cock until her orgasm hit her. "Ohhhhh God!" Molly screamed, as her motions became frantic, "I'm coming, Rick. Jesus!" Up and down, her pussy kept sliding on my dick. "Don't come yet, Rick, I'm still coming...Oh, God!" Molly came long and hard, riding my cock like I was a bucking bull at a rodeo. "Yes, oh shit, yes, Rick!" she cried out, as her orgasm went on and on. Finally, as her orgasm subsided, Molly began to work my dick harder with her hot cunt. "Come for me, Rick. Fill me with your cum." It didn't take me long to honor her request. I started to thrust up into her warm, wet pussy as she pumped it on my rock-hard erection. In a minute, I came, spraying my jism deep into her fuckhole, squirt after squirt, feeling her pussy fill up with the white foam of my cum. Finally, she collapsed on top of me, our hot, sweaty bodies rubbing up against each other. We lay together for a while, she on top of me, our heavy breathing beginning to return to normal. Molly whispered in my ear, "Rick, I think your young house guest is playing with her little pussy." I listened. In the next room, I thought I could hear the sound of the bedsprings squeaking, and soft moans coming from Sissy. "Do you think she heard us?" I asked Molly. "How could she not?" Molly replied. "I was doing enough moaning for the two of us. Besides, if we can hear her, you know she must have heard us. We must have really turned her on if she's in there stroking her clit." In a little while, we heard no more noise from Sissy's room. I assumed she had gotten herself off and gone to sleep. It was exciting to think that she had heard Molly and I fucking next door to her. And imagining her laying in bed, rubbing her clit, making herself cum was a real turn-on. Molly noticed how turned on I was when my rising cock made a tent out of the sheet that covered us. Molly reached under the sheet and began stroking my dick. "Ready to go again, stud?" asked Molly. Just then, there was a knock on the door and in stepped Sissy, wearing that same sheer nightgown she had worn before. When she saw us lying there under the sheet, she said, "Oh, I'm sorry," and started to back out of the room. "That's alright, Sissy," Molly told her, "come on in."

PART FIVE

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/16075.txt

Roadrunner

Slave Teacher

"Ah, Karen, you came just at the right time," Mark greeted Karen as Laura led her into the room by taking the chain over from Laura. He led her to Amy who was lying on the bed with her hip resting on the edge and her hands tied to the headboard. "Oh, Amy!" Karen gasped as she looked at Amy. The young girl was gagged and, like Karen, her nipples were now ornamented with two gold rings. "Hmmmm..." Amy whined under her gag as she looked at her teacher with tear-filled eyes. "So did you guys have a good time downstairs?" Steve asked, chuckling. "Yeah, we certainly had a great time, right, slut?" said Laura as she came over and uncuffed Karen. "Now," she continued as she lit a candle and handed it to Karen, "why don't you show Amy what we've been doing downstairs..." "No! Please!" Karen pleaded as she dropped down to her knees and grabbed Laura's hand. "Please don't make me do this! Please!" "Listen, slut! Either you do it or we'll do it ourselves, and we'll do it twice! We'll clean her up and start all over again! Is that what you want?" "No!" Karen pleaded as tears began to fill her eyes. "What do you mean 'no'? Do you want me to start now?" "Oh, no! Please! Alright! I'll, I'll do it!" "Now that's my girl! Here, take it!" said Laura as she gave Karen the candle. "Oh, Amy, I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" said Karen as she stood next to Amy, sobbing. Amy was breathing quickly and looking at the candle in her hand in fear. "C'mon, do it!" Laura urged. Sobbing, Karen tilted the candle and let a drop of wax fall onto Amy's belly. "Hmm!" Amy moaned under the gag and jumped. "Go on!" As they urged, Karen continued until there were drops of wax all over Amy's breasts, belly and thighs. Amy was moaning and wriggling in pain all the time. When Karen was finally allowed to stop, she was almost exhausted. "Now, clean her up!" said Dr Jackson as he handed her the whip. "Remember, if we have to do it we'll do it twice as hard, slut!" Knowing that it's useless to beg, Karen took the whip and, biting her lower lip, whipped Amy lightly across her belly, but none of the dried wax came off. "C'mon, harder!" Steve scolded. Crack! Karen brought the whip down on Amy again, and this time some of the dried wax came off, revealing an area of skin which was now turning red. Amy whimpered as Karen brought the whip down on her again and again, until all of the dried wax came off her body. "Oh, God," Karen whined, "what have I done!" "Excellent!" said Mark as he patted Karen on her ass. "Now let's give your special student a kiss, miss Johnson!" he said chuckling as he pushed Karen forward to Amy. "Oh, Amy!" Karen whispered to the sobbing teen as she held her face gently in her hands. She kissed the girl's cheek gently, then kissed her mouth through the gag. Slowly, she began kissing her way down Amy's neck to her breasts, soothing the skin that she had hurt with her lips and tongue. The double-head dildo was still half-buried in her pussy, and her movements while whipping Amy had caused it to rub against her pussy, which was by now dripping wet. Her kisses soon reached Amy's pussy and, after licking it a few times, she was ordered to fuck Amy with the double-head dildo, and she quickly complied. Easing the dildo in slowly, Karen began fucking Amy in long, gentle strokes. Soon, she could feel Amy trembling lightly under her, and she increased her tempo. "Oh, Amy, oh, oh," she moaned as she fucked Amy harder and harder until the girl signaled her orgasm with her moans and spasms. She continued pumping Amy until she too came with a loud moan. Karen hugged her student tightly as she tried to catch her breath. She felt ashamed that she had fucked Amy so roughly in the heat of her own passions, and she felt more ashamed when her colleagues all applauded and cheered at her performance. After Karen had licked the dildo clean, the two were finally allowed to rest. They were gagged and laid face to face on the bed, with their hands chained to the headboard so that they couldn't turn. "Sleep tight, girls!" said Laura as she gave Karen a spank on her ass before leaving the room. When they were left alone in the room, Karen looked at Amy, who was also looking at her. After a pause, and, much to Karen's surprise, the girl whimpered and pressed her body against Karen's. Closing her eyes, Amy began rubbing her breasts against Karen's. Karen could feel Amy's rock-hard nipples together with the rings, and her own nipples were also getting hard. Her breath quickened as Amy went on, and she let out a muffled moan as Amy pushed a leg between hers. Amy began rubbing her thigh against Karen's pussy. Karen shuddered and returned the favor. Soon the two were humping passionately against each other until they both came, locking their legs together, squeezing their thighs wildly. Karen opened her eyes and saw that Amy still had her eyes closed. For a moment she thought she could see a faint smile behind the gag. Then Amy's breath slowed down as she sank into a deep sleep, and Karen, after watching her for a while, also drifted off to sleep. Karen was woken up the next day by Laura who came to uncuff her. "Good morning, my pet, did you have a good sleep?" "Y-yes," Karen answered meekly as Laura removed her gag. "C'mon, let's go downstairs quietly. We don't want to disturb your sleeping beauty here do we? Unless you want her to join you." "Oh, no, no," Karen answered in a lowered voice. She followed Laura downstairs to the living room where the three men were waiting, then the chain joining her nipple rings were also removed. "Good morning, slut," Mark greeted her, smiling. "G-good morning, sir," Karen answered submissively. "How're you feeling this morning, slut?" Mark continued as he gently stroked her breasts. "F-fine, sir, th-thank you." Karen answered, knowing that something horrible was coming. "Good," said Mark, "'Cos we have made a plan for you. We were aware that you've missed a meeting with Ben the other day, right?" "Y-yes, sir," "Now that's not very good is it?" "No, sir," "And we'd better make up to Ben before he gets too angry, right?" "Yes, sir," Karen answered with a trembling voice. "As your masters, we have thought of a way that you can make it up to Ben..." As Karen listened in horror, Mark laid out the arrangement. Karen was to go to school and drop Ben a note and ask him to meet her in the storeroom behind the gym, where Dr Jackson had a video camera installed so that they could watch what was happening. Karen was to please Ben in every way that he demands, and she had to finish and come back to Dr Jackson's house before three in the afternoon, otherwise Amy would be punished. "Now, doesn't that sound like great fun?" Laura cooed as she grabbed Karen's breasts from behind. Karen closed her eyes and moaned in dismay. "Dear Ben, I'm sorry I missed our appointment the other day. I have no excuse and I deserve to be punished. Please come and meet me in the storeroom at the back of the gym and use me like the slut that I am. Your slut Karen" Ben grinned as he read the note. He wasn't quite happy about having to work on Saturday morning, but now things seemed to be looking much better for him. The problem was that he wasn't expecting anything like this, and he hadn't got the toys that he had for Karen with him. What the hell, he thought, we can try them some other time. After looking through his drawers, he took the bamboo rod, the collar and some metals clips and hurried to the gym. "So there you are, Miss Johnson," he chuckled as he saw Karen. The young teacher was standing in the middle of the room, gagged, naked except for her g-string and a pair of high heels. Her hands were cuffed together and attached to a hook from a chain hanging above her head, keeping her standing straight, and her clothes were folded neatly in a corner of the room.What attracted Ben's attention most was the gold rings on her erect nipples and the word "SLUT" written on her left breast in bright red lipstick (it was Mark's idea). Karen looked at Ben in shame and fear as he approached. "Mine, mine," he murmured. "Did you do this yourself?" Ben asked. Closing her eyes in shame, Karen nodded as Mark had ordered her to. "And this too?" Ben asked as he took the ring on her left nipple and tugged it gently. Whimpering, Karen nodded. Ben felt like his cock was going to burst out of his pants when he walked behind Karen and saw the words "USE ME" written across her ass. "Holy shit!" he chuckled as he raised the thin bamboo rod, "You're a real slut, aren't you?" swish! "Aren't you?" swish! "Aren't you!" swish! With each question, he brought the rod heavily down onto Karen's ass, which, much to his curiosity, was already criss-crossed with faint marks. After whipping her a few times, Ben couldn't wait any longer and unzipped his pants. "Got to give that little slut a good fuck first, and then we'll continue with the rod and other stuff," he thought as he tore Karen's g-string off. Grabbing her thighs, he entered her hot, wet pussy in one deep thrust. "Hmmmm!" Karen groaned as Ben began pumping her. Ben squeezed her breasts and pinched her pierced nipples roughly. Then, grabbing her breasts, he used them as grips to pull her towards him as he fucked her, drawing muffled cries from her. "Here, take this, slut!" Ben shouted as he began pumping his cum deep into her burning pussy. "Holy shit, man! What are you doing!" Ben and Karen were woken up from their trance by the voice of a student. Karen opened her eyes in terror and saw a guy from the football team standing at the door. In his haste, Ben had forgotten to lock the door, and their cries had drawn the attention of the entire football team, who were on their way to the changing room. "It's okay, guys," Ben chuckled, embarrassed, as he quickly pulled out of Karen. "Miss Johnson and I are just having a little fun here, right, Miss Johnson?" "Hey man, look at her tits!" Another student shouted, "They're pierced!" "Yeah," Ben went on, "as you can see, Miss Johnson here is really into, you know, kinky stuff. Right, Karen?" He said, pinching her ass. Karen couldn't believe this was happening. All she could do was to lower her head in shame. "I asked you a question, slut!" said Ben angrily, spanking her ass hard. Karen jumped at the blow and opened her eyes. "Answer me, slut!" Ben asked as he spanked her again and again. Closing her eyes, she nodded. "See?" said Ben, "she gets turned on by this!" "Wow! She's certainly a hot bitch, Ben!" "Yeah, now if you guys promise to keep this secret, I'm sure Miss Johnson won't mind you joining in! C'mon!" Mesmerized, the students approached. Karen looked at them in horror. She tugged at her bonds but Ben held her tight. "C'mon, guys!" He urged, "I guarantee you it's okay!" Karen whimpered when the first guy began feeling between her legs. "God, she's dripping wet!" He exclaimed. Soon hands were all over Karen's body, squeezing her breasts, pulling at her nipple rings, fingering her pussy and her ass. In their frenzy, Ben was pushed aside, and all he could do was to stand in a corner of the room and watch them fuck her, one after another. When the first two students were done, Karen was uncuffed and placed onto her hands and knees. By now she wasn't struggling at all, and when a student grabbed her hip and entered her asshole, all she did was to close her eyes and groan. "Oh, oh," she moaned as her gag was removed, but her moans were soon muffled when another guy shoved his cock into her mouth. Karen couldn't remember how many times she'd been fucked in her mouth, her pussy, her ass, or even between her breasts, and she had also lost count of how many times she had come. After the last guy had finally pulled out of her, she collapsed on the floor, exhausted. "Hey," one of the students said, "anyone want another go?" "Let's take a break first," another guy answered, "it's only three, we've got plenty of time. Or maybe we should call our friends!" It's three already! Amy! Karen screamed in her mind. The students laughed as she struggled to get up. "Still haven't got enough, huh?" a guy said as he grabbed her ankle, "okay, let's have another round, Miss Johnson!" Gathering all her strength, Karen kicked him hard in the groin, and as he howled with pain and let go of her, Karen ran out of the gym as fast as she could. There were only a few students outside, and they watched wide-eyed as the teacher ran naked across the school yard towards the main gate. All that was on her mind was that she had to get away from all those guys. She ran out of the school and across the road. As she heard a screeching noise and turned to look, she saw a van coming towards her. She screamed and fell onto the ground, with the van just avoiding hitting her. The driver of the van jumped out and ran to see if she was hit. "Jesus Christ!" He cried out in shock as he saw Karen's naked body with all the bruises and cum stains all over her face, her breasts and her thighs. Karen's memory of the chaotic events that followed--the police investigations and the sensational trial--was all a blur. In the end, all the staff involved--Dr Jackson, Laura, Mara, Ben, Mark and Steve--were indicted and convicted. However, to avoid an even bigger scandal, the authorities decided not to press charges against any of the students. Although the school was eventually re-opened, Karen never went back. She was offered therapy, but after a few months she quit and moved to another state. Her career as a teacher was over, not only because of the publicity of the event, but also because she couldn't bring herself to stand in front of a class again. She took up a job as a library clerk in a quiet, small town. She heard that Amy had moved to another school, but lost contact with her when she moved out of state. Since then, life had become very quiet for Karen. She worked, went out with her colleagues from time to time, but most of the evenings were spent quietly in her apartment. It was more than a year later when, one evening, she heard her doorbell ring. She went to answer the door and, much to her surprise, found Amy standing outside. "Amy!" She exclaimed, "what are you doing here?" "I-I've been looking for you..." the girl answered quietly. "Wh-what?" Karen asked, dumbfounded. "I've been looking for you. I-I miss you, Miss Johnson." Amy said shyly, her eyes wet with tears. "Oh, poor girl," said Karen as she took the girl in her arms. As Karen held her in her arms, Amy looked up and, holding Karen's head with her hands, kissed her on her lips. Shocked at first, Karen soon found herself returning the kiss passionately, and the tender moments that they had in the ordeal that they went through together sprang up in her mind. When Amy pressed her body against Karen, Karen could tell that she wasn't wearing a bra. She could not only feel the pressure of Amy's erect nipples but also something else. It was her nipple rings. "You've k--kept them?" Karen asked when they finally broke off their passionate kiss. Blushing, Amy nodded. "M-me too," Karen whispered, blushing herself. "Come on in, my pet," she said tenderly as she let Amy into her apartment and closed the door behind them. The end

nc, bd

XI (the end)

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/13404.txt

Dream Spinner

Jacksonville Weekend

"I look into the mirror See myself, I'm over me I need space for my desires Have to dive into my fantasies. I know as soon as I'll arrive Everything is possible 'Cause no one has to hide Beyond the invisible." As the Enigma song "Beyond the Invisible" played in the background, fifteen-year-old Mico stood there staring at the letter in wide-eyed disbelief. He couldn't believe it. He had actually won! He read the short, formal announcement for the fifth time, as if reading it again would verify its authenticity. "Congratulations, your entry into the Weekend with Taylor Hanson Promotional Campaign has been selected as the winning submission. Your completion of "I would like to spend a weekend with Tay because . . . " in twenty-five words or less was one of ten finalists submitted by the panel to Taylor. He was very touched by your conclusion " . . . after three months touring around the world Tay deserves to have a quiet weekend just being a normal American boy with another boy like him." Please read the attached agreement and return to us immediately." Mico read that second-to-last line again. Damn, his entry had actually been chosen by Taylor himself! The letter went on to say that he would sign exclusive rights over to Hanson Promotions and would not hold them liable or some such, and that he would agree to posing for promotional pictures and interviews. For a weekend with Tay, he would sell his soul. He skipped over all the boring stuff to the handwritten note at the bottom of the page. "Hey Mico! Looking forward to spending a quiet weekend just being me for a change. Cool answer. Tay." Just reading Tay's handwriting caused Mico's cock to spring to attention. Of course, anything to do with Taylor Hanson did that to the horny Florida teen. He debated if he should phone his mom at work, or if he should call his best friend. He decided on Zak first. Zak was not going to believe this. Sitting down on his bed, he pulled out his stiff seven-inch cock and began to stroke it as he waited for Zac to answer. "Hey Zak!" "Hey Mico, what's up, besides your cock?" he asked, knowing Mico very well. After all, they were close friends, and Mico was exceptionally hung for his age. "You bet it's up, and you know why?" "You're thinking of me," joked Zak. "All the time, lover, but there's another reason this time!" "So, you going to tell me?" "Remember that contest about Tay?" "Of course, that's all we talked about for a month after you sent your form in." "Got an answer." "Yeah? Sorry, we regret to inform you..." "No damn way! I won." "Yeah, right." "Come over and read the letter." Zac bicycled over to Mico's in a matter of minutes, and like Mico, the fifteen-year-old stood there staring in disbelief at the formal letter from the Hanson's agent. "Oh fuck man, that is so rad! An entire weekend! What are you going to do together?" Mico's lips curled slightly and his eyes narrowed in a suggestive leer. "Huh!" Zac snorted. "Yeah right. Like he's just going to go hop into bed with you." "With us," Mico corrected, "and I was figuring we could find more places than just the bed to do it in." "Dude, in your dreams. There's no way Taylor's really gay." "What about all those stories about him on the web then?" "Ninety percent of what's on the web ain't true, you know that." "Could be though." "Yeah, could be the moment he sees us he gets the hots for both of us and can't wait to tear off our clothes, but I doubt it." "The three of us." "Huh?" "Was thinking of inviting Tyler over too, if you don't mind." "No, Tyler's cool. Invite the whole neighborhood over if you want," Zac replied, shrugging his shoulders. "Nothin's gonna happen." "Yeah, well, we'll see." Mico was not about to let Zac discourage him. Normally, the two friends would have used the opportunity of being alone to have sex, but Mico was too excited. Taylor Hanson, there in his house, for the entire weekend. As soon as Zac left, Mico was on the email to Tyler, another of his good pals. Although Tyler was just as doubtful as Zac about the sex part, the opportunity to meet Tay Hanson was enough of a reason to guarantee he would be there. The possibility of having some hot sex with the cute blond singer would be an unexpected bonus. The seventeen-year-old had fantasized about Taylor Hanson frequently during his jerk-off sessions. He had also fantasized about Mico. His handsome looks, smooth, tanned five-foot ten-inch, hundred-and-fifty pound body, sexy brown eyes, and thick dark brown hair were a major turn-on. Mico's mother was excited for him when she found out the news later that afternoon. She was always very supportive of him, and Mico loved her for it. She even knew her sixteen-year-old son was gay and had accepted it, only asking that he not flaunt it yet, which was cool for Mico. He had his best friend Zac when he needed sex, and his buddy Tyler who knew of his orientation and who had confessed that he also liked boys, so why flaunt it? Once the shock that a celebrity would be living in her home for two days was over, Mico's mother began to worry about making a good impression. The house would have to be cleaned from top to bottom of course, even though she already kept it spotless. Then they would have to have activities planned. What could they do to keep someone who travelled the world entertained? That, she figured, would be a major problem. Of course, Mico did not mention anything to his mother about his ideas for keeping Taylor Hanson entertained. The next day, his mom returned home with more exciting news. It seemed her boss had this fascination with Taylor, and when she told him the news, he offered his home for the weekend. That was great news. His home was much larger, and very stylish. There was a lot more opportunity to do things there than in the comparatively small home Mico was living in. It also had an outdoor pool which could lead to some interesting things. Mico frowned though. Yeah, right, there would be a lot of opportunities with his mom's boss right there. He was a cool dude, and pretty hot looking for an adult, but there was no way he'd stand for anything like Mico had in mind. Mico would have to thank him for the offer, but he would have to settle for less showy digs and a better chance of getting it on with the hot, sexy blond singer. Then his mother delivered the other surprise. Her boss and she had to be out of town on business that weekend, but her boss had said Mico could have the keys to the place if he promised not to have any wild parties, and if he promised her boss he'd tell him everything that happened between him and Taylor that weekend. Mico could not believe his string of good luck! He eagerly agreed, although if things went his way, there would have to be some editing of the final account of the weekend. As the magic weekend approached, the three boys got more and more excited, and over time Mico even managed to convince the other two that rumors about fifteen-year-old Tay just might be true. He even had a pic of Tay in a dress that he'd gotten from some guy that wrote stories on the net. Even if Tay was not gay and nothing happened, the three boys had many hot hours speculating and daydreaming what they would do if he really was like them. Finally, Friday arrived. The plane would be landing at the Jacksonville airport at 2:00 p.m. They had until 2:00 p.m. Sunday, forty-eight hours! The three boys took especially long showers that morning and paid special attention to those more intimate parts of their bodies. They put on their favorite tops and shorts and headed for the airport in the limo that Hanson Promotions had hired for the occasion.The combined scents of Mico's Drakkor, Zac's Tommy, and Tyler's Polo filled the limo with a delightful aroma. As they pulled into the airport, they could not believe the number of people. There had to be at least a thousand fans, maybe even twice that many! The minute the boys stepped out of the limo, they were blinded by flashes from several dozen photographers. Microphones of all shapes and sizes were shoved in their faces, and dozens of voices all spoke at once. They glanced about in bewilderment. The Hanson staff immediately stepped in and created an aisle so they could get through to the private reception area that had been partitioned off for them. The private plane landed, and once the portable stairs were in place, the door swung open. The three boys and the thousands of fans held their breath. A slim, blond-haired figure appeared at the door. Wearing Doc Martens, baggy pants, and a red polo shirt, he could have been any other teenager, but those blue eyes, long dirty blond hair, and that delicate, effeminate face left no doubt who he was. The fans cheered and clapped and began to chant, "Tay, Tay, Tay." Smiling and waving, the fifteen-year-old star slowly descended the stairs. He was used to the mobs and the screaming, and he did his best not to show his dislike for that type of scene. Fans were certainly one of the reasons they were producing their music, and the screaming and mobbing was just something that unfortunately went with it. The security guards let the three hosts through the gates onto the tarmac. Their legs felt like wet spaghetti as they walked over to the object of countless jerk-off fantasies. "Welcome to Jacksonville, Florida," Mico greeted, taking the singer's slim hand in his. The slight touch caused his erect cock to twitch inside his black Adidas shorts. "We really hope you are going to enjoy the weekend." It wasn't a flashy greeting, but it was all Mico could do considering he had been in a state of full arousal from the moment he woke up with his morning erection. Mico introduced his two companions. Taylor, and the crew accompanying him, took a double take upon seeing Zac. With his blue eyes, fine long blond hair, and fine features, he could almost be a twin of Tay, except being five-foot-nine and a hundred-and-forty-five pounds, he was slightly taller and heavier than the star. Just as Taylor always wore two or three necklaces, one of them often the Star of David, Zac, being Jewish, was wearing his Star of David that afternoon. The four boys posed for several promotional pictures while on the other side of the fence the fans gawked and snapped pictures of their own. It felt awkward, and Mico wondered if he'd care to be such a famous star as he looked at the teeming mob and then at his idol in admiration. Tay, of course, took it all in. This was all part of the game, all part of the hype. He and his brothers needed the fans or they would be nothing, and if they were nothing, that was what they would be paid. Besides, he liked fans. Well, not the screaming I-want-you-I-need-you types that would rip out your crotch hair for a memento, but the quiet fans, the ones who appreciated his talent. Of all the fans he had seen the world over, his favorites were the boys who looked at him dreamily. Of course, he knew that they were daydreaming about what it would be like to be able to sing like he did, and what it would be like to be so famous and to have girls screaming and fainting over you. He could imagine, though, that at least one in each concert was thinking about something very different, something that would totally shock his family if they knew he had such thoughts. When he looked out at the fans before the glare of lights on the stage made the audience invisible, he would spot one such boy and then think about doing things with him, things that he had recently been doing with a fellow teenage star who was also a very special friend of his. Looking at the handsome sixteen-year-old who had won the contest, Tay immediately had thoughts of running his fingers through that thick, dark brown hair and finding out if the short hairs in his Adidas shorts were just as dark. He would not mind checking out the hot seventeen-year-old standing beside him either. He had blue eyes and brown hair, stood six feet tall, and must have been just under a hundred-and-seventy pounds. Tay had never considered having sex with an older teen before, and the thought now was very attractive. After the photo shoot, they were whisked away to the address Mico had given, his boss's home. Where the boys were going to be had been a carefully guarded secret so Tay really could "have a quiet weekend just being a normal American boy with another boy like him." Tay was most impressed with the large yard and expensive home. Although he travelled the world, he came from a modest home himself. When he found out the circumstance by which the home had become available, he was even more impressed. That Mico's mom's boss would make the place available to them for two whole days, and totally unsupervised, revealed he was a very generous man. Tay mentioned that they would be totally unsupervised several times. Mico wondered if that was because Taylor was constantly surrounded by adults. When on tour, he had agents and technical crews around all day, and when he was at home, he was constantly surrounded by his family, not just his two singing brothers, but all his other siblings and his parents too. Mico knew the Hansons were a close family, and he believed in the value of family too, but he somehow wouldn't be keen about going on tour with his mom tagging along. Tay was constantly hounded by the media too, so being alone with a group of boys totally unsupervised probably was a big thing for him. Living with a single parent, being alone unsupervised was something that Mico just took for granted. Considering his thoughts these past four weeks, Mico also could not help wonder if maybe there was even more to Tay's comment than that. Maybe he was hinting that being unsupervised, they could do some things that boys normally would not be able to do otherwise. Maybe that something included having sex with each other, especially if he was gay. Mico always read more into things Tay said and did as reported by the media once he had decided without a doubt that Tay was gay. Taylor asked him a question, and Mico snapped out of his daydream and returned to the conversation. The boys sat around awkwardly, talking about school and hobbies and common interests. Tay loved soccer, go-carting, and roller blading, and the boys made tentative plans to do some blading and go-carting during the weekend. One thing on everyone's mind was the pool, the pale blue water sparkling invitingly in the hot afternoon Florida sun. Mico finally suggested they take advantage of the pool, and the three boys readily agreed it was a great idea. "Shit," said Taylor. "I thought I'd thought of everything when I packed, but can you believe it, I forgot to bring a swimsuit. I'll have to send one of the promotion crew to go buy one." Although the boys were totally alone, members of the promotion crew and Hanson Productions were patrolling the streets surrounding the home. Jacksonville was a large city, but not that large that someone as famous as Taylor Hanson could hide all weekend. Ensuring his privacy and protecting him from fans, the guards were keeping a close lookout for any intruders. Mico's good luck was continuing full force. He could not ask for a better opening to pursue what he would like to be doing. "Hey, no need dude," said Mico. "We're all guys here, and we got privacy. No reason we can't skinny dip." He looked at Taylor hopefully. "Unless you'd rather not, of course, like if it's against your beliefs or something." He knew from the dozens of fan sites on the net that Taylor came from a religious family and attended a private Christian school. Besides, there were some guys that were embarrassed being seen naked when they had to shower after gym. Why Taylor would be embarrassed by anyone seeing his hot body, Mico couldn't see. "Hey, no. I'm cool with that," Taylor answered. "Great," said Mico, taking the lead and pulling off his Guess T-shirt. Zac quickly followed, pulling off his, and Tyler quickly discarded his tank top. The boys tried not to be obvious as Tay pulled his polo shirt off over his head. God, he had wonderful pecs, smooth, and firm looking. He had the sexiest little wisp of blond hair under his pits. Shoes and socks were quickly discarded, and in no time the boys were down to their pants. Mico drew down his shiny black Adidas shorts, and was followed by Tyler and Zac. Mico and Zac were wearing blue bikini briefs, and their cocks were filling out the pouches generously. Mico was thankful the erection he had been sporting all day had gone down, although as Taylor glanced over at him, he suddenly felt it beginning to rise again. "Hey," Taylor observed with a grin, "Your briefs match my eyes." "Yeah, cool," smiled Mico. Taylor could not help but notice the boys were also very well hung. He wanted to comment on that too, but they had only known each other for two hours, and he wasn't sure how they might take that coming from a guy. They could take it as a compliment, but if they had any hint of homophobia, they could also think he was coming on to them. Anyway, he had something else on his mind at the moment, something very embarrassing. He stood there helplessly in his baggy Guess jeans. "There something wrong, man?" asked Tyler. "Hey, if you're embarrassed being seen in your undies, that's ok. Being a big star and all, we can understand, can't we guys?" Mico asked. The other two nodded. "We can turn our back." "It's not that." The boys looked at him. "I'm so stupid. Should have thought something would happen.He unsnapped the snap on his baggy pants and, drawing down the fly, he pushed them down, revealing a pair of bright blue girl's panties. The boys glanced at each other, and then back at Tay. He had been looking anywhere other than at them, or he would have noticed a stirring inside their underwear. "Guess you're wondering about this," he said with a nervous laugh as he stared at the lawn. "It isn't something we see every day," Zac agreed. "It began as part of a disguise, so I could get around without being mobbed, you know?" "Yeah, must be the shits not being able to walk around and not be noticed." "Well, I struck on this idea of dressing up like a girl." "That's cool." "Actually, you'd look cute in a dress," Mico dared to say, thinking of the pic he had. "Well, dressing up like a girl was a drag," Taylor said with a slight grin. The boys hooted with the play on words. This talk was becoming much more natural than the stilted conversation they had been having, and much more interesting. "Anyway, I discovered that I like the feel of silk panties. Guess you think I'm some sort of perv." "Heck, no. Actually, you look real cute in them," Zac said. "Thanks a lot," he said, making a face. "Really, you look hot." "Yeah, real hot," agreed Tyler. "Hot enough to make out with," observed Mico. Zac and Tyler were accustomed to Mico's forwardness, but they felt embarrassed for him. His dreams about Taylor Hanson were about to be shot down. Taylor looked at him in surprise, and then at each of the other boys in turn for comprehension. He could not have heard Mico correctly. "Since you shared yours, guess we might as well tell you our secret," Mico said. "Yeah?" "We're gay." "All three of you?" "Yeah. Me 'n Zac are especially good friends." "Cool." "You really mean that?" "Sure." "You don't mind the idea of guys having sex with guys?" "No," replied Tay. He paused for a moment before adding, "I've done it myself." "Far out!" exclaimed Mico, glancing at his two friends as if to say, see, I told you so. "With anyone we know?" "Yeah, probably, he's an actor, a year younger than I am. But I don't kiss and tell," he said, and then added with a grin, "or suck 'n' tell." "That's cool." "That's actually the reason why I dressed up like a girl, so I could sneak out to meet him. We've had three dates so far." "Cool dude. Zac and me have been having sex together for months." The two friends exchanged glances and smiles. "Speaking of cool, we gonna take a dip or what?" asked Tyler. The boys stripped off their underwear and splashed into the pool. They had races, tossed a ball around, and just generally relaxed. An hour later, they stretched out on the deck chairs and let the hot Florida sun dry them. The home had outdoor speakers and a top-of-the-line stereo, and the boys had brought their favorite CDs from their favorite groups, which for Mico was the band Enigma, Tyler's favorite band was Aerosmith, and of course Tay's favorite was The Counting Crows. As "T.N.T. for the Brain" by Enigma came on, Mico thought about what he wanted to really be doing this instant. Smell your skin Feel your breath You on my side I couldn't resist. I hope I'll understand some day What's the meaning of this crazy game It is real and pure T.N.T. for the brain. If there's no pain Rules are still the same I'm with you, just lead me I'm ready to play. "You look so cool naked," Mico observed, admiring the singer's slim, 125-pound, 5'9" body. "So do you. All you guys are hot." "Oh yeah, how hot?" "Very." "Can you be more specific?" asked Zac with a gleam in his eye. "Hot enough to kiss." Zac leaned over and planted a long, hot kiss on Tay's lips. The two teens' slim bodies, fine long blond hair, and deep blue eyes were so remarkably alike it was like looking at a boy and his mirror image engaged in a lewd kiss. The sight of the two blonds kissing immediately got the other two boys aroused, and of course the kissing was also having an effect on Zac and Tay. When you are naked, you can't hide what you are thinking, and what these boys were thinking was very evident. The two finally parted and glanced at Mico and Tyler. "Hmm, you're one hot kisser," observed Zac. "Hope you didn't mind me kissing your best friend?" Taylor asked with a tentative glance at Mico. "No, Zac and I share everything," Mico said suggestively. "Well, then I guess I owe you a kiss too," Tay said with a grin. Getting up from his chair, he walked over to where Mico was laying and lay down on top of him. As their lips pressed together hotly, the boys slipped their arms about each other. They drew each other close, smooth naked chest pressed against smooth naked chest, flat stomach against flat stomach, growing cock against growing cock. 'Christ,' thought Mico, 'our cocks are actually touching!' As Mico continued to stiffen, he could feel Tay stiffening too. That was so hot! They kept their embrace and their kiss until they were both totally stiff. "Mmmm, you are a hot kisser," agreed Mico. "Thought you were about to sing," joked Tay. "Going to make your body sing," said Mico. "Oh yeah, which song?" "Cummmmmmmmmm with me." "My fav song," laughed Taylor. "I love to cum with boys." He smiled, and sang, "It's a secret no one knows, it's a secret no one knows, mmmBop, ba duba dop, Ba du bob, ba duba dop." As Mico and Taylor kissed again, Tyler and Zac moved in to join them, Zac kissing Tay on the right cheek and Tyler on the left. As they rolled off the chair and onto the lawn, the three boys began to give their guest a tongue bath, running their hot tongues over his body and leaving trails of spittle to dry in the hot sun. While Mico began to lick and suck on one nipple, Zac found the other. The two boys soon had Tay's nipples hard as his cock, and itching just as badly. The three boys continued down his slim, smooth body, running their hot tongues over his ribs and along his belly. They bypassed his cock, knowing that to touch it with their hot mouths at this moment would be sure to bring him off, and they wanted to postpone that for at least a little while. During all this Tay was reaching down to caress whatever part of whoever's body was available. This was so hot being attacked by three horny, good-looking studs. He was eager to sample each of their cocks, and he knew that over the course of the weekend he was going to have many opportunities to do so. The three hosts next had Tay get on his hands and knees, and he suddenly found his ass the centre of attention. Pulling apart his soft, small cheeks, Mico began to eat his ass. Mico was skilled at what he did, he and Zac having had a lot of practice. His tongue darted in and out expertly, bringing moans of ecstasy from Tay. Mico licked and then sucked on his delicious asshole. Delighting in the musky odour and taste of hot teen ass, Mico was soon on the verge of erupting. As he sat back to savour the taste and cool off before he came, Zac, who had been watching with envy, took over with his tongue, eating out Tay's asshole just as expertly. Mico reached into the bag on the patio table and, taking out the KY jelly, he lubed up his cut seven-inch hard cock. As Mico got into position, Tay eagerly opened his asshole. He had never had anything so large up his asshole, but he was so hot he did not need any lubrication himself. He shuddered with the ecstasy as he felt Mico's cockhead stretch apart the opening to his ass and then sink into his asshole. Mico drove it on in until his coarse hairs were pushing against Tay's soft boy ass. Zac slipped under him and began to lick and suck on Tay's stiff five-and-three-quarter-inch cock while Tyler sat down before Tay and the young star bent his head and began to suck on his cut six-and-three-quarter-inch cock. The four boys were especially randy, and it was not long before they were snorting and panting as they approached their climaxes. Tay could hold back no more and squirted his hot load into Zac's eager mouth, and Zac quickly swallowed the singer's slimy, salty offering. Mico thrust his hips forward and cried out as he unloaded his balls, his load squirting deep into Tay's tight ass. Tyler cried out too as his load also erupted, filling Tay's mouth with his offering of hot teen cum. Still sucking on Tay's cock, Zac pumped on his six-and-a-half inches furiously. As Tyler finally slipped his cock out of Tay's mouth, the hot singer immediately went down on Zac's cut cock. His hot mouth brought Zac off in a matter of seconds, and his cum joined Tyler's in the eager hot mouth. The boys collapsed on their backs and enjoyed the flush that came after sex. They finally dressed and went over to La Fiesta, a Mexican restaurant, for supper, along with the Hanson agents and official photographers. Of course, as soon as others found out where Tay was, they began to congregate. As the boys sat there drinking their Sprite and Mug root beer and eating their burritos, Mico wondered what the fans would think if they knew how he and his friends had introduced Tay to Florida. Watching Taylor as he sat there beside him eating, just being there beside him and inhaling his CKBe cologne was getting Mico hard again. After the meal, they stopped by a Target store and bought Tay a pair of swim trunks, not that the boys intended on ever using them, but because they were expected to pose for some promotional pictures beside the pool. Pics of them skinny dipping would not go over well with any of their parents, although they would sell well on the net, especially a real picture of Tay."So," said Mico, looking at Tay as the boys returned home and sprawled out in the living room of their weekend hideaway. "What would you like to do this evening?" "More of what we did this afternoon," Taylor replied, his lips breaking into a wide grin. "Cool, our favorite pastime too," said Mico as he began to strip. It was cool to just lay there on the floor, the four of them naked and cuddled together with their backs against the leather sofa, talking about soccer and roller blading and dirt biking. They talked about favorite and not-so-favorite teachers, about parents, and about what it was like to be a teenager. Mico and Zac talked about their special friendship, and Tay about the friendship he had developed with Taran Smith. The boys listened with interest as he described their sexual encounters. As the evening progressed, Mico lit a fire in the fireplace and the four naked boys sprawled out on the plush shag carpet and began to fondle each other in the soft glow of the fire. Aerosmith's "Young Lust" began in the background. "Yeah! Young lust Happy just to be in lust Never have to eat no dust Everybody talk about Young lust You're dyin' and you're screamin' inside Oh, you're guilty way before you been tried It's crazy but you diggin' it." They gradually sorted out into a daisy chain, Mico sucking Tay, Tay sucking Tyler, Tyler doing Zac, and Zac going down on Mico. The four sex-hungry boys licked each other's shafts and ran their tongues over each other's sensitive knobs. Soon the licking was replaced by sucking as each boy slipped his hot lips over an equally hot cock and had hot, moist mouths envelope their own stiff cocks. Sucked and being sucked, they concentrated on the taste of cock and the thrill of suction from a hot mouth. Soon once again hot teenage cocks were throbbing out their juices, this time into eagerly awaiting mouths. They fell asleep that night cuddled together naked on the living room rug. The boys slept in on Saturday morning, recovering from the sex fest the night before. More or less all awakening at the same time, they decided to take a shower together. The owner of the home had a particularly large shower built, evidently with entertainment in mind. Four hot teenage boys crowded together in a shower can only result in one thing, hot throbbing erections, and that in turn can only result in one thing, a circle jerk. Tay held Mico's massive seven inches in his right hand, and fondled Zac's balls with the left. Mico meanwhile was holding Tay's balls in his left and Tyler's six and three-quarters in his right while Tyler jerked off Zac's six and a half inches and held Mico's balls. Zac completed the circle, grasping Tay's five and three-quarter inch cock and Tyler's balls. Soon the white stuff was flying, squirting the four boys with creamy moisturizing boy cream, their own and their neighbor's. They playfully rubbed the slimy, hot juice on each other's body, enjoying the feeling of hot cum on their flesh and on their fingers. After showering, they enjoyed a leisurely brunch. Most of the day was spent with the promotional crew, taking pictures of the boys as they went about doing what boys the world over do in their leisure. They strolled the mall and played some games at the arcade, stopped in at Wendy's for cheeseburgers and fries, and spent a couple hours driving go-karts at Adventure Landing and strolling the beach, eyeing all the hot guys. They concluded the afternoon roller blading in a park near their weekend hideaway. Once in the privacy of their temporary home, the boys' thoughts turned back to sex. After all, they were normal, red-blooded, American teenagers. They made a game of disrobing, first of all the three boys surrounding Taylor and removing his clothes, and then Taylor teaming up with Mico and Zac to disrobe Tyler, and so on until all four were naked. The distinct aroma of hot, sweaty teen bodies and four pairs of sneaker feet filled the guest bedroom where the boys had decided to "do it". While Zac and Mico sat down on the bed, their backs against the headboard, Taylor knelt at the foot of the bed and leaned over to attack their feet. "I'm afraid after an afternoon of roller blading, mine are pretty rank," Mico apologized. "Just the way I like them," Tay responded with a grin. He sang a few words from Aerosmith's "Flesh." "Flesh - you got me all soakin' wet. Flesh - the only thing that's worth the sweat. Flesh, you got me all soakin' wet." The boys had never felt so randy in their young lives. As the two boys laying on the bed watched, the young blond teenager bent over, his long fine hair brushing against their naked toes. His tongue extended and began to lick their feet, causing ripples of pleasure to originate between their legs. He left a trail of saliva as he licked the salty sweat, and as he licked their soles and sucked on their toes, they squirmed with growing arousal. Tay's own cock was jerking excitedly as the aroma and sharp flavor of sneaker feet drove Tay wild with desire. Licking their feet was so hot he was about to shoot without even touching himself. Meanwhile, Tyler had gotten behind Tay and was eating out his ass, darting his tongue in and out of the boy's delicious asshole and savoring the hot flavor of his sweaty, musky ass. Mico and Tay rolled over on their sides and forming a 69 position, they inhaled the spicy aroma of hot, sweaty teenage balls. Their cocks throbbed with the erotic aroma and were soon enveloped by eager hot mouths. While the two teenagers attacked each other's cocks, Tyler lay down behind Taylor and replaced his tongue with his cock. The young blond singer quivered with delight as he felt the seventeen-year-old enter him and begin to work his big cock in and out of him. It was so hot having a cock up his ass and one in his mouth at the same time, and a hot pair of lips working on his own boy flesh. Zac formed a similar position behind his best friend, and Mico eagerly opened his boy hole for his friend. As he felt Zac's cock entering him, he thought back to the many other times Zac had done this and the randy teen decided he would never get enough of it. The boys were soon approaching their climaxes. Mico was the first, sending his blast of hot boy cum into the Tay's eager mouth. The young blond swallowed the salty offering hungrily and sucked on the fleshy straw for more. At the same time he quivered with the burning release of his own load, and Mico just as eagerly swallowed the hot singer's boy juice. Behind him, Zac grasped his hips tightly and thrust his hips forward with a little cry that announced he was also squirting his load into the hot teen's body. Tyler was quickening his strokes also, and the seventeen-year-old was soon squirting his cum into his younger partner. The four boys remained connected for as long as they could, and as their flesh softened, they fell on their backs on the pale blue sheets and stared at the ceiling dreamily, their breaths slowly returning to normal as they inhaled the warm, cum-scented air. That evening, the boys barbecued, cooking thick juicy steaks and baking potatoes and corn-on-the-cob on the outdoor barbecue, and again allowing the photographers in for a photo opportunity. After the meal and after the photographers left, they went swimming for a while, naked of course, then it was down to some serious surfing on the net, naked again. Taylor was a real computer expert, and showed the boys a number of nifty sites, most of them clean but a few erotic ones he knew of besides. The boys also showed Taylor their favorites, sites that featured their different interests, and of course a few sites that focused on their common gay interest. After a few hours of surfing, the boys decided to retire to the master bedroom for the rest of the evening. Bringing along a bucket of ice, a dozen Mug root beers and a dozen Sprites, and several bags of chips and Cheezies, the boys sprawled out on the bed. It was huge, king-size, with pale blue bed sheets and pillows. Posters of tween and teen boys from around the world playing or just hanging with each other decorated the four walls. They were of every color and nationality, many in their native dress, many bare-chested or bare-footed. An oak cabinet of trophies from sports events was in one corner. As the boys lay there looking around at the pictures, hands began to explore naked bodies, running over smooth pecs and abs, fondling hairless nipples until they became hard little buds, and caressing firm butts and running along narrow ass cracks. It did not take the boys long to get erect again. As Mico liked to put it, "Junior is a growing boy." Lubing up Tay's ass and then having him lay on his back, Tyler and Mico raised his ass so Zac could kneel behind him and penetrate him. The two boys found it particularly hot being able to look each other in the face while Zac's hot, solid cock slipped up Tay's eager hot asshole. Tyler then knelt beside the two boys and bending his head, took Tay's hard cock in his mouth. That left his ass in a most inviting position. Lubing up his asshole and his cock, Mico soon had his shaft embedded in his friend's ass. That just left Tyler's cock unattended, and Tay quickly reached over and took care of that. As Zac began to work his hips to and fro, easing his cock in and out of Tay's tight ass, Tyler began to bob his head up and down the blond singer's delicious cock. He thrilled at the thought of sucking off this teen idol, a dream he had never thought would come true. He also thrilled at the sensation of having Mico fucking his ass, another dream he had never thought would come true. As the handsome, brown-haired youth eagerly pumped his cock in and out of the seventeen-year-old's ass, he smiled at the thought of how this weekend had turned out.It was beyond what he had ever hoped for. As for Taylor Hanson, this was the wildest thing that had ever happened to him. Who would ever have thought he would be spending the weekend with four hot, good-looking teenagers? Who would have thought he would be lying in a king-size bed with a cock in his ass, a cock in his hand, and a hot mouth sucking on his? Enigma was playing on the stereo. "Mea culpa Kyrie eleison Lord have mercy Christ have mercy I can't sleep anymore (The time has come) I desire you (The time has come) Take me I'm yours I'm guilty I want to go to the end of my fantasies I know it is forbidden I am crazy. I am letting myself go." One by one, the boys reached that delightful peak. Hot cocks throbbed out another load of hot boy cum, squirting up hot assholes and down hot throats. When Tyler came, Tay caught his hot cum in his hand and then sucked it out of his palm, quivering with the delightful taste of fresh hot cum. One by one, the boys disconnected and lay back on the bed sheets, allowing the warm bliss that follows sex to relax them. They talked about what it had been like, how it had felt. They talked about being teenagers and gay. They talked about how hot it was, and how difficult too. Mostly, they just lay there in the big bed, four naked teens, enjoying each other's company. One by one, they dropped off to a sound sleep, the sleep of those who are at peace with themselves. They all woke up with morning woods late Sunday morning. Being young and in excellent health, a good night's sleep was all they needed to replenish their young balls. Once again, hands and tongues began exploring fresh young bodies. Young boys kissed, their soft lips pressed against each other, their tongues slipping inside each other's mouths. Smooth ass cheeks were pulled apart, and soft lips attached to puckered assholes as tongues lapped at the musky orifices, delighting in the taste of boy. Hands ran over smooth chests, arousing tender nipples. Hands ran between thighs to cup and gently fondle silky-skinned balls. Zac and Mico soon found themselves in a familiar position, their heads at each other's crotches. The two young friends savored each other's balls, and then took each other in their mouths. Tay quickly lubed up his young hard cock and Mico's ass, and then, laying down behind him, Tay slowly and eagerly slipped his cock up his young fan's ass. Mico opened eagerly, the idea of his teen idol slipping his young hot cock up his asshole making him tremble with excitement. He felt the singer's long blond hair fall over his shoulders as the fifteen-year-old pressed his hot body against his. Mico was in heaven. Tyler, meanwhile, had lubed up his cock and Zac's asshole and had penetrated him. The four teens began the slow rhythmic motions known to gay teens the world over. Four hot boys connected by their throbbing young cocks, four hot boys blowing their hot breaths against each other, four hot teenage bodies flushed with sexual arousal and beaded with sweat, it was a scene hotter than any porno flick anyone could imagine. It was also a scene of four young boys enjoying a sport that thousands of boys the world over enjoy, a sport that required skills like any other sport did, and which brought pleasure and a sense of achievement equal to any other game. It was not, however, a scene that you could photograph and put up on the wall with the others. For the sixth time that weekend, the young boys worked themselves to a blissful climax. For the sixth time that weekend, four hot young teen boys found bliss in the embrace of another boy, and pleasure in the hot climaxing of their own balls and those of a friend. For the sixth time that weekend, four loads of hot boy cum erupted from tight balls and were throbbed out by stiff, irritated cocks into receptive bodies. Totally spent, the four boys snuggled together and relaxed and listened to the stereo. Aerosmith was playing. "I don't wanna miss one smile I don't wanna miss one kiss Well, I just wanna be with you right here with you, just like this I just wanna hold you close Feel your heart so close to mine And stay here in this moment For all the rest of time." It was not until close to noon before the boys got dressed. All four boys chose tank tops and shorts, Zac and Taylor even choosing a red pair of Adidas tops and white Adidas shorts, making them look even more identical, especially with both wearing their Star of David necklaces. As Mico looked from one to the other, he realized just how lucky he had been this weekend. He himself had chosen a dark blue top and red shorts, Tay's two favorite colors. Tyler had gone for a black mesh net top and Nike shorts. Dabbing on their favorite cologne and combing their hair, the four young boys kissed and embraced each other for one last time, and stepped out into the awaiting world. The limo took them to a fifty-dollar-a-plate luncheon near the airport for a fundraiser for the local charity for the hungry that had been arranged for that weekend. They smiled for the photographers and chatted to the dignitaries, about what it was like to be a teenager, about music, and what it had been like to spend a weekend with a celebrity, and of course what it was like for Taylor to spend the weekend with three Jacksonville teens. "Well," said Tay, "being able to jack that is, being here in Jacksonville, has been real cool. It has been great to just be me for forty-eight hours." The boys exchanged knowing glances, the four of them knowing just what the real Taylor Hanson was like being himself. "And what did you boys think of having a weekend with a celebrity?" "It was real hot," said Zac with an impish smile. "Yeah," agreed Tyler, "we had one blast after another." The boys could barely retain their laughter. "Well," said Mico, "Tay is just a normal red-blooded American teen like us, and we had a great time just doing things that a lot of boys enjoy doing together." He smiled over at Tay, and as Tay smiled back at him, Mico felt a stirring in his shorts. A quick glance down at Tay's crotch revealed he was having the same experience. The two boys glanced back up at each other, a twinkle in their eyes, and let it happen. Finally, they walked out to the private jet waiting to take Taylor back to California. Zac and Tyler said goodbye at the gate, and Mico and Tay walked out to the plane. The Hanson crew boarded, leaving the two teens alone. Slipping behind a loading cart, Tay gave Mico a quick kiss, and the two boys' fingers lingered at each other's bulging crotch for a few seconds. "I'll send you a ticket to one of my concerts if you can come," Tay offered. "You've drained me this weekend, but I suspect by then I'll be able to cum again," Mico replied with a leer. "After the concert we can have a solo performance and find out," Tay rejoined, his lips curving into a suggestive smile also. As Tay walked up the boarding stairs, Mico longed for his tight, cute ass, and when he turned and smiled and waved one last time, Mico ached for the hot singer's sweet kisses and hard hot cock. While he watched the jet take off and disappear in the hot afternoon Florida sky, he thought of the words of the Hanson song, "With You in Your Dreams". "Remember me, remember me, 'cause I'll be with you in your dream, ohh, ohh Don't cry, I'm with you, don't cry, I'm by your side Don't cry, I'm with you, don't cry, I'm by your side And though my flesh is gone, Hoo ohh I'll still be with you at all times And though my body is gone, Hoo ohh I'll be there to comfort you at all times hoo, ohh, hoo, ohh . . . Hoo. I'll be with you in your dreams."

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/16047.txt

deirdre

Merge

"You know what?" Caroline was talking softly, and I knew she was saying something confidential. "What." "Henderson told me: *no one* is being laid off." "No one?" I responded, surprised. I did manage to whisper it. "No one," she repeated. I think she looked relieved. *I* certainly was: we were all on pins and needles about the merger. Yes, we'd been bought out. I guess it was too good to be true, with Caroline, who I got along very well with, as president: in fact, my own position as vice president was certainly nothing to sneeze at, but what I enjoyed most about it was having Caroline's trust. We *knew* each other, and we each knew the other could get the job done. And it was all ending, one way or another. Henderson's company bought us out, and everyone in our company knew what that could mean. I'd supposed Caroline would have a relatively easy time of it, having been the most visible person in the company: I'd been a bit more nervous about my finding anything comparable to my present position. Besides, Caroline still has her youth, being in her thirties, and she has looks I never had: people might kid themselves that that doesn't count for much, but, well, studies show otherwise. But now, at least I knew we had jobs. I looked around at the rest of the staff--Caroline shouldn't have told me: I really hated to see the rest of them worrying so much about Henderson. I knew I wouldn't betray Caroline's confidence, but keeping the secret while they all suffered certainly would bother me. But they wouldn't have to wait too long: Henderson's people had already announced "reorganization meetings", and I was scheduled to attend one the following day. I arrived at the appointed address at an unmarked office building on the other side of town and entered to find what appeared to be a rather large and generous office suite: I couldn't really tell how far it extended through the building. I was a bit surprised to find Henderson's company with such an established office right there in town: I would have thought we'd all have known about it. I was directed down the hall and to an office where a receptionist greeted me. A couple of others from our company were sitting there, waiting: Martha who is my secretary, as well as Grace, one of the other VPs. A man and woman who I didn't know were standing on the other side of the room, talking quietly. I looked around for a place to sit, but the receptionist told me we could go into the conference room, pointing out a door behind her to her left. More people from our company were coming in, and soon I was following some of them into the conference room. The receptionist was also directing some of the people to another conference room to her right, so apparently there were two concurrent meetings. I do remember one strange thing when we entered. The man and woman whom I didn't know were standing close to our conference room's door, and as we entered, I noticed that while the woman talked to the man, she sort of looked us over. In front of me was one of the other secretaries who was definitely well-endowed, and the woman practically leered at her like a man might! I actually felt a little strange walking in front of her and couldn't help wondering about her. In the room, it turned out to be seven of us, all women. I wondered about that too, but it didn't worry me too much. Then the man I'd seen in the reception area came in and introduced himself as a consultant hired especially for the reorganization and for integrating us into the new company. He stood in front of us and started telling us about his ideas and the theory of good organization, and I realized in about two seconds he was extremely boring. Soon I wasn't really catching his words so much as simply hearing the drone of his voice. "Grace Steadman," said the receptionist. I watched Grace stand and walk into the door the receptionist indicated. She did keep herself in good shape I noticed: she could easily model nude, but I figured Caroline must be better. Not that I'd seen Caroline in Grace's state. I watched Grace pad in, noticing she had distinct tan lines--when had she been on vacation? When she was gone, I looked back at Martha, sitting on the carpet next to me. Martha definitely had a body that looked good despite her size: even her stomach didn't show any "tires". I looked down at myself: I'm in pretty good shape right now, but any weight I put on goes right to my hips and thighs, leaving my chest as flat as ever. It would be nice to have a body like Martha's. Well, at least my rear is decent. I wondered at the receptionist, with all these bare bodies hanging around her reception area. It must be a bit weird for her, and not all of us were that much to look at. She didn't seem fazed a bit by it, though. The door behind the receptionist opened a crack briefly, and she looked back. Then she looked at a paper on her desk again, and then called "Tamera Black." Me. I stood up. There were still four from our group still sitting there. I approached the door but stopped and looked back at the receptionist. "Go on," she encouraged. It was a large office and very plush. I didn't see any sign of Grace, but there was a man behind the desk and a few other men and women sitting and standing, all watching me enter. It was kind of embarrassing, standing there in front of them naked like that. "Tamera," said a man sitting on a couch, looking at papers on a coffee table in front of him. "Yes," I said. I just stood there, still feeling embarrassed. "Vice President," he said. It wasn't a question, and I didn't respond. No one else said any more, but the man behind the desk stood up and walked over to me. My eyes were on him: they were all dressed in suits, but I could see at a glance that this man was *really* dressed. As he approached, another man told me to go to the couch, and then to lean on it on my hands. Then the well-dressed man came up behind me. I waited there, nervously, as he approached behind me. I didn't look back: somehow I knew I shouldn't. He touched me: his hand went between my legs. "She's dry," he said."This way," the man who'd led me over said, taking my arm and pulling me to standing and across the room. He brought me over to a woman, and I ended up standing in front of her. She felt my vagina too and gave a little mirthless laugh. "Not aroused, are you?" she said. I didn't answer; I could tell she didn't really want me to say anything. While I stood there, the office door opened and Martha came in. The woman in front of me didn't stop touching me but started stroking me gently. She was also dressed very well, in a skirt-suit. She was blonde and looked to be in her late twenties. Something made me think MBA. They had Martha leaning over, supporting herself with her hands on the couch, the way I had been. The woman with me took her hand off me and took some sort of device, putting it on her hand. It had an electric cord and attached to the back of her hand. She then threw a switch, and it hummed. The well-dressed man had been feeling Martha. Then he'd opened his zipper, taken out his cock, and started doing it with her. "Oh, yes," he said in a second, but he only sounded a little affected by it. But Martha was starting to breathe really hard. The woman put her hand on the front of my vagina. It was a vibrating device on her hand, and I was immediately going crazy: I don't remember experiencing anything like that before! She was moving her fingers, and her whole hand was vibrating! Her face was close to mine while she did it, and I ended up looking right into her eyes. She had this amused smile on her face. I was going to lose control--it was out of my hands. Then she stopped. I stared at her: I couldn't believe she could do that! But it was only me being affected like that: she could stop any time she wanted. The man led me back to the couch. Martha was gone. Once again, I leaned over the couch. The man in the good suit felt me again. I was *very* wet. He plunged in. Oh, god, it felt so good. I was coming in seconds, and he just kept pumping away. I moaned and moaned. I felt weak: I felt lightheaded and worried about fainting for a second. One of the men pulled me to standing. "Not her, she takes too long to get wet," said the well-dressed man. The man leading me walked me to a door, opened it, and guided me through. The door shut behind me. It was a small room, filled with women from our company. We were all naked, as had been the group in the reception area. I found a little area on the floor and sat down: I was completely beat. It felt scratchy sitting on the carpet, just as it had in the reception room. Martha wasn't there, but Caroline was. She looked listless: they all did. Nothing happened: we just sat there. Finally, a door opened: a different one from the door to the office I'd just come from. Two women came in, leaving the door open. Behind it was a corridor, and I saw some women walking around dressed like nurses. But the two women who had entered were both in suits: sharp too, though the skirts were a little short. "There she is," said one, and they pulled Caroline to standing. As I watched, I wondered what they were going to do. One of them stood behind Caroline and held her around the waist against herself, and the other one stood in front of Caroline, very close. She put a hand on Caroline's vagina and started moving it, and at the same time, leaned and started licking Caroline's upper lip with her tongue. Caroline just stood there for about a second, but then she said "nooo," and started struggling, though she didn't seem to have the energy to get away from the two women. The two women kept trying for a few seconds, then the one in front of Caroline turned to the open door and said: "Jill!" A nurse came in, holding a syringe. As Caroline continued to struggle, the nurse injected her in the rear. A few seconds later, Caroline collapsed in the arms of the woman holding her, and a couple of nurses put Caroline's arms over their shoulders and dragged her over to a rolling stretcher. I realized one of the women in suits was looking right at me. "What are *you* looking at? This bothering you?" she asked me. I stood there with my mouth open. It was as if I were paralyzed and couldn't answer. The woman then called the nurse again, and the nurse was coming toward me with a syringe. I was lying on my back, looking up at the lights in a corridor. I couldn't move my arms: apparently, I was being restrained. A nurse walked up and looked at me: "She's back," she said. She undid my arms and my legs too, which had apparently also been restrained, and soon she had me sitting up. In front of me were three naked women, all kneeling, facing away from me. In front of each was a kind of meter of some kind. The nurse pulled me to standing and led me to a spot next to the others. There was a meter-like device in front of me, attached to a plastic or rubber protrusion. She had me kneel, and the protrusion was right in front of my face. "Suck," she said. It was like a dildo or something. I put my mouth around it and started sucking. I saw the needle on the meter move as I started sucking. "Good," she added. "Harder." I sucked harder, and the meter rose some more. "Come on, harder!" she added. I did my best. "Keep it up," she encouraged. Another woman behind me said "Harder!" I tried. I felt hands on my body, on my breasts, then down my front to my vagina. They started stroking it, gently. "Harder," she repeated. I got the needle up a little more. I felt her kneel right next to me, practically leaning against my body. "Harder and I'll..." she said, and suddenly her hand vibrated! Just like in the office before. Then the vibration was gone. "Now, harder, and I'll turn it on," she whispered in my ear. I sucked harder--as hard as I could. I got the needle up a little more. I barely felt vibration. "More!" came the whisper. I managed to get the needle up a little more. The vibration increased, just a little. "More! More! Come on, you can do it!" came the voice. I was sucking as hard as I could, I thought, but I managed to get the meter up a little more, and that beautiful feeling continued to increase. "You want it, don't you? Now *more*!" I felt like I was going to explode. I was doing absolutely everything I could. I did manage to edge it just a little higher. "Yes! Now a little more, and I'll turn it all the way up!" It was too much! But this was it: somehow I managed to do just a little more, and suddenly it was like an explosion: I stopped sucking and fell away immediately as the vibrations racked through my body. I sat there, feeling like my heart was going to burst. "Well, that's enough for now," the nurse said. I sat in the cell with Caroline. Our days were simple: off to that machine to suck on, then back to the cell. We didn't talk, though I'm not sure why. We just did what the nurses told us to. But one day was different: I heard the rattling at the door, and it opened. I squinted at the brighter light: the little window in the door didn't let in enough light to keep my eyes used to it. Two men came in the cell. Both naked, except for leather collars around their neck. I recognized one as a guy from our company. "Yesss!" he said, apparently to his friend: "I guess this *is* a reward!" He was looking at me, and then grabbed my hand and started pulling me up. "Hey, this is the prez," said the other one. Then the guy with my hand dropped it and joined his friend at Caroline's bed. I just lay there, watching them. In a minute, they had Caroline on her hands and knees, one of their cocks in her mouth, the other one in her from behind. "Ha, I bet you never thought you'd experience *this*," said the one who'd taken my hand briefly. Soon they were done, and a nurse appeared in the door. She attached leashes to each of their collars and led them out. Caroline had collapsed on the floor, but another nurse pulled her up and attached a collar around her neck and a leash to it, then fastened her hands behind her back with handcuffs of some sort. "Well, I guess we've found a use for *you*", she said to Caroline, and pulled her out. The door shut, leaving me alone. I stood in a little kitchen in one of the office suites. Two secretaries were there with me, making coffee and preparing a doughnut tray. I just stood there, naked. One of the secretaries put a leather collar around my neck and attached a leash to it. Then she fastened my hands together behind my back. Mostly we just waited. A door opened. "We're ready," came the voice of the man poking his head out. The secretaries carried the coffee in. They both returned, one getting the tray of doughnuts, the other taking my leash and leading me in. It was a conference room. Men and women were around the table, apparently having been at a meeting. Some were still sitting and talking, but a few had gathered around the coffee. I was led to a chair at the side of the room and made to kneel. I noticed that Martha was sitting at the conference table. She was dressed really nicely. A couple of the men getting coffee wandered over to where I was kneeling. One of them put down his coffee and sat in the chair in front of me. He unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. I started sucking immediately. Hard. My training worked well: I came almost immediately.to/erotica/assm/&gt;----&lt;http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/13812.txt

Art Montage

Playing Doctor

"Man, it has been a long day," I think as I take off my lab coat. "Where are you going?" asks Mary, my temp for the day. "I'm hoping to get to the club in time for a racquetball match I have scheduled," I tell her, wondering why her concern about my personal life. "Well, should I tell the patient in room five that you are canceling her appointment?" Mary says. 'What a day,' I say to myself again. First, my nurse is sick, ironically too sick to come to the doctor's office. Then I realize every quarter hour has been overbooked with people trying to get in for their flu shots. There goes racquetball. "No, I will talk to her," I tell her. At the door of room five, I slip on my lab coat and realize the patient's file is empty, with the name Vi Xen on it. "Couldn't you find her file?" I ask Mary. "She doesn't have one, she is a new patient," Mary informs me. "And I really hate to do this to you, but I will have to leave at 5:30." Looking at my watch, I realize that is in 15 minutes. Stepping into the room, I don't notice the new patient, as I am preoccupied with adding the obligatory information -- like the date -- to the new file. I walk to the counter and set the file down, continuing to write. "I'm sorry I'm a bit rushed, I hope you didn't wait long," I say, and then her perfume hits me. It wasn't strong, but sensual and alluring. I stop writing and pivot toward this scent that has me captivated. "No, I came right from work and just got in here...and barely had time to put on the gown," Ms. Xen says. She is Asian, as I had guessed by the name. Her thin lips break into a smile. There is an awkward pause and I am nervous just being in the room with this beautiful young woman. "I hate to ask you this, but my nurse is leaving in 10 minutes, and I hadn't planned on staying much longer myself....but could we cancel this appointment?" I ask. I instantly know what the young woman is thinking, or at least I know this isn't such a great idea for her. "I...I, well," Ms. Xen is stumbling. "It's just that I'm not sure if it is possible. My schedule is quite hectic. It took me two months to make this appointment. And the fact is; I need to have this physical for my job." Most of her words just go right past me. My head is spinning from the scent of her cologne. I feel I have hurt her feelings and for some reason, the sadness in her voice has me feeling guilty. "Umm," I begin to stutter myself, "The problem is my nurse has to leave and...well technically I am not supposed to be alone with a patient." Just at that moment, Mary sticks her head in the door. She has her coat on and says, "I left the paperwork on the counter. I have to leave now, my ride is here." "Okay," I say and Mary is gone. "We are alone now, couldn't you do the physical?" Ms. Xen pleads. "You see Ms. Xen, well you understand the situation right?" I say, feeling uncomfortable. It is the first time in the past eight years I have been alone with a patient. "Doctor...I understand. I don't care, really. It's the only way I can get this done and I feel I can trust you...right?" Ms. Xen says, and flashes me a smile. I hesitate. This is just the situation a doctor is to avoid; it is also one of those temptations: A beautiful woman, alone.....after hours. Plus I just can't stop looking at this attractive woman. She isn't the picture of innocence that is normally associated with Asian, instead her beauty felt like an invitation. "Doctor, please," Ms. Xen says after my lack of response. "Okay," I say. "I will still have to be thorough; this will probably take at least half an hour." "That is fine," she says and I can see the muscles in her shoulders relax. "My evenings are usually free, it's your office hours when I have trouble arranging appointments." "Hmm, maybe I should have evening hours," I say, hoping to get our relationship on more comfortable terms. "That would be very convenient," she says in a non-committal tone, but her smile has a suggestive nature about it. I grab the file, sat down and begin to ask the questions my nurse would ask during the pre-exam, things like age, past health problems, address, etc. The conversation feels odd to me. Partly because it is normally something someone else does for me, but also because many of the questions are things I might ask on a first or second date. At first I hesitated, asking the personal questions, focusing more on what was directly health related. Then I realized the interview was heading into a more personal direction. What began as questions about her menstrual cycle turned into questions about her sex life. "I haven't dated anyone in the last year, mainly because I was doubling up on my class load," Xen said, responding to a question. "Then I got this job. Much of my time has been occupied with moving, settling in - both in my apartment and at my job." "So you haven't had sex in about a year," I asked her. I was caught in a dilemma between professionalism and physical attraction -- interestingly enough, both demanded the same questions. She didn't answer, instead she looked down and began to blush. "Ms. Xen, I'm not asking to make a judgment. If you have had sex, as your physician, I should know. Especially if we need to discuss birth control," I said, trying to make her feel comfortable. Shyly she looked up and said, "Birth control is not an issue." Now it was I who was uncomfortable. I wasn't sure what she was trying to say...or not say. My first thought was that maybe she was infertile. She sensed my misunderstanding of her comment, looked away and said, "When you say sex, do you mean masturbation?" I wasn't sure what to say and I almost burst out with a laugh. "I, well now, that wasn't what..." I was really stumbling, and really wishing I had a nurse to ask these questions. "I masturbate a lot," Xen said. Her body temperature was probably rising, that would explain how her perfume was again finding its way to my senses. "There is nothing wrong with masturbating," I said. "Twice a day!?!" she snapped back. "There really isn't a norm for this activity," I try to calm her, but when I said 'activity' I felt like an old man. "I mean, everyone's libido is as different as people are different. It's not something I would hold against you." I chuckled, hoping to make her understand it wasn't anything to be concerned about, yet with her perfume invading my olfactory nerves all I could think about was to 'hold her against me.' I crossed my legs because, part of my discomfort was because I masturbated a lot...and I wanted to do so as soon as possible. Anything to get rid of the erection that was trapped in my pants...and hopefully hidden by my lab coat. "I'm sorry to confess this to you, but lately...well I have felt uncontrollable," Xen said. Right at that point I realized that it wasn't her perfume I was smelling...it was her scent. With just the lab smock on, and sitting on the exam table her obvious excitement was floating in the air. 'What was I doing?' I thought to myself. I shouldn't be alone with this woman. The desire I was feeling was the exact reason it was so foolish. Yet at the same time, knowing that she was secreting excitement between her legs was too much for me. "And what are you thinking, when you have these 'urges'?" I ask, deciding I might as well follow this trail to a conclusion. With that, I put on my stethoscope and stood up. "Usually it's a situation," she said. I placed the stethoscope on an exposed area of her chest. The stethoscope was cold and she flinched, causing her smock to ride up on her legs. "Mmm hmm," I said as a question and she continued. "Like I will be at work and my boss will ask me to work on a project, late at night," Xen continued and I moved the stethoscope around to her back. I knew she was excited, her heart was thumping about 90 beats a minute. "While we are working on the project one thing will lead to another....and..." "Take a deep breath," I said, with the stethoscope on her back. Interestingly she was completely exposed in the back since the nurse had not tied the fastens. "Okay, breathe out. Now when you are alone...in your thoughts...are you intimidated..or are you afraid of your boss in reality?" "No. When I am, well masturbating, I am in control. It is...he is doing what I want," she said and allowed the smock to slide over her shoulders. "Have you ever acted out on these scenarios?"I asked her and went to her file at the counter, pretending to write down some information. "Not really, or completely," she said. I turned back to her, and she was smiling. She had taken her arms out of the smock, which was resting on her lap, covering up her pussy. Her breasts were creamy white in comparison to her tanned shoulders. "I see," I said, and we both knew I was speaking figuratively and literally. "Will you lay down on your stomach?" Her head faced away from me, but as I began to undress, I could see her smile broaden. "And what do you think would happen if you acted out this fantasy when you were alone with your boss?" "I don't know," she said, with a playful lilt in her voice. "I guess I would continue to act innocent, but want to be in control. Hopefully, he would know I was excited and wanted him, but I would have to say so for it to just happen." While she talked, I finished undressing and grabbed a condom from the second drawer of the counter. "How would he know you were excited and wanted him?" I asked, standing at the end of the exam table. "It varies," she said, and with her comments, she lifted her hips. "Maybe I would just kind of find myself naked and lift up my hips a little bit. Other times, I am so horny and slutty that I get on all fours like a dog." As she was getting up on all fours, I put on the condom. It was a little funny to me. Often, I had explained to my younger male patients how to put on a condom right in this very office. I had a dildo I used for demonstration, in the condom drawer. "And are you horny?" I asked, but when she looked back at me, I added, "At this point in your fantasy." She lowered her head and elbows to the table and said, "Yes, so much so that I don't need any foreplay." "Never?" I asked, crawling up onto the table. I placed my left hand on her left hip and, with my right hand, placed my penis against the lips of her vagina. "Mmm...um, no," her voice trembled. "The foreplay comes later." I held my penis against her labia and rubbed her ass with my left hand. "Later, huh?" I said. "Yes," as she said that, I thrust into her, and she moaned. Slowly, I slid out, and when the head of my penis was almost out of her, I plunged back in. Both of my hands held her hips, and I pumped in and out of her. The first several thrusts, I would slide out slowly, and then I would grunt when I slammed back into her, but after about five slow exits, I began to pull her hips in a quick in-and-out motion. She was right; she was excited, and foreplay was not needed for this first time. While I was thrusting into her, she began to edge forward, and I had to put my hands on the table to keep from falling on her. Holding myself up with my right hand, I grabbed her left breast and squeezed it, working my fingers to her nipple. "Emmm," I groaned and came like an air bubble expanding to the surface of a secluded pond. I knew she had not come, but I knew that would happen later - we still had not had any foreplay. After releasing an orgasm into Xen, I realized how precarious our position was on top of the examining table. From our doggy position atop the table, I held the condom against my penis and pulled out of Xen. I sat back, straddling the table, and pulled the penis off my now-deflating penis. Tying a knot in the condom, I tossed it toward the counter where the garbage can was. I reached behind me and pulled out the extension on the table so I could lean back onto my elbows. While I was doing this, Xen had turned around and faced me. "Well, Ms. Xen, that was certainly more exhilarating than the racquetball match I had lined up," I told her. "Doctor, call me Vi," Vi asked and leaned onto her elbows, with her face near my penis. "After all, we are now on an intimate level," she explained and licked some of the sperm that was on the side of my penis. "Ummm, yes. And call me Ross," I said as she licked more sperm off my penis. My penis had deflated to its small, relaxed state, but Vi's cleansing fellatio was about to re-awaken my excitement. After four or five more licks, she put her whole mouth around it, clamping her lips against it as she pulled her head away. I was now becoming erect again. Vi grabbed my testicles with her left hand and began to work the shaft with her right. "I hope you don't mind a little cock teasing after a fuck?" Vi said, slipping me her trademark salacious smile, then she bobbed her head down on my penis. "Na...na," I couldn't really verbalize, instead, I just smiled and nodded. She pushed her lips down onto my cock until I was moaning. Stopping with her lips and putting her hands on the sides of my penis, "You like?" she asked a redundant question. Xen placed her tongue on the top of my cock and then began to roll my cock with her hands, like bread dough. It was like she was trying to start a fire by rolling a stick in her hands, and needless to say, she was igniting the flames of passion. Placing her lips where her tongue was, upon the head of my penis, she rolled my cock several more times. Xen then slipped her hands down the shaft of my penis, followed by her lips. Her thumbs grazed over my balls and met under my sack. With her thumbs touching and her hands pressing against my pelvis, Xen had formed a harness for my testicles. She began to bob her head, mischievously using her tongue to play with the underside of my cock as she slipped her mouth up and down. Leaning forward, I kissed the top of her head, then I was able to bend around to kiss the nape of her neck, taking in the fragrance of her delicate perfume. I reached around her shoulders and grabbed her breasts. Then she stopped moving her head and has focused her tongue, flickering it against my penis; increasing the pressure and slowing the pace when I firmly squeezed her titties. My body froze stiff, and I dribbled out what little sperm was left in me. What my orgasm lacked in cum, it made up for in the intensity of pressure released. I was delirious with the pleasure of her cocksucking talents and the smell of her perfume that had my thoughts spinning. Rotating my hands, I held her ribs and pulled her up from her elbows, so she was face to face, and after two orgasms, I kissed her for the first time. Gentle little pecks at first, and a squeeze of her lower lip with my lips, then holding the back of her neck, I slipped my tongue into her mouth. We kissed for several minutes, exploring the intimacy normally associated with the prelude to sex. Parting lips, I looked into her beautiful, dark eyes. "Let's not forget, part of this exam includes several orgasms quaking from your thighs," I told Vi and then embraced her. "You'll hear no argument from me," she replied over my shoulder. Vi laid back on her elbows on the examining table. She glowed with a salacious smile. My beautiful Asian patient was ready for the rest of her physical. I slid my hips back on the table. Leaning forward, lifting her shapely legs over my shoulders, I began to kiss her inner thighs, alternating between the left and right. The whole time, I inched my face closer to her vulva and the pleats of her labia. I traced a circle around her lips, then from several centimeters from her anus, I licked to her clitoris. Vi lifted her hips up with my lick, so I ran my tongue the length of her pussy several more times. I could tell by her breathing that she was past due when it came to cashing in on orgasms. I slid two fingers easily into her steamy pussy. My thumb bumped against my chin as I licked her clit and fingered her pussy. "Ahhh...ummm," cooed my patient. Turning over my hand, so my index and middle fingers curled up, I rubbed the ceiling of her vagina. The force of my fingers pushed her pelvis and clitoris against my mouth. I gobbled up her pussy. Vi's moans were becoming longer and ran together. When the tone lowered, with her groans coming from the back of her throat, I stopped licking. I flattened my tongue against her clit, applying pressure. From the corner of my eye, I could see she had clenched her hands into fists and was pushing down on the table so she could push her hips to my mouth with more force. By just slightly moving my tongue and applying pressure, I had Vi flexing her body. She was so stiff and beautiful, like a porcelain doll. A horny doll. Vi squealed, and for a second, I thought she might have pulled a muscle, but when she grabbed my head and began to thrash her hips, I knew that she was not feeling any pain. She began to mumble something in Japanese that sounded like, "Eye Cooo." I widened my two fingers, like a peace sign, and pulled out of her, then inserted them together. I continued to do this and suck on her little clit, pulling it into my mouth and flicking it with the tip of my tongue. I lost count, but she came several more times like this. Her mumbling and moaning was erotica to my ears, and I could feel my penis pressing against the table. I propped myself up on the table with my arms. Vi had her eyes closed and was smiling. She seemed ready for a nap, but that would have to wait. I reached down below the table's mattress, to the drawer. When I found the condom, there I sat up; Vi's ankles rested on my shoulders, and I kissed her instep. While I opened the condom and placed it on my penis, Vi rubbed the side of my face with her foot. With the condom on, I rolled my shoulders forward. This motion pushed Vi's hips up, off the table. Her weight now rested on her shoulder blades, and her lovely calves were against my shoulders. I crawled forward on the table. My movement took her legs toward her shoulders, and when I leaned forward to kiss her, her knees pressed against her chest. As our tongues danced together like eels in an aquarium -- exchanging sparks -- my cock rubbed against her inflamed vulva."Vi had her hands clasped behind my neck, but she unfolded her hands and slid her right hand between our bodies. When she reached my cock, I lifted up my hips and she made a fist around my erection. Holding my penis like a handle, she rubbed the head of my erection through her pubic hair. Occasionally, she would tease me and bring my cock near the entrance of her orchid garden, but when I would shift my hips to thrust into her, she would push my penis back to her belly. I broke our kiss and moaned, begging her with my eyes. She granted me my wish and lined my penis up between her labia. When I thrust into her, she folded at her mid-section from the force. I slid out a bit, and Vi pushed her calves against my shoulders, bringing her pelvis up to mine. Her hand was still between us, and I separated our bodies to allow her to move it. Vi used the space to reach my balls. The motion brought our faces together, and I kissed her eyes as she fondled my testicles. Her arm formed a small distance between us. My penis only slid halfway into her wet folds, but with her hand caressing my balls and the tip of my penis gliding in and out, I was curling my toes with pleasure. I was so aroused that I started to slap my body against Vi's arm. When she sensed I was about to come, she released my balls and began to fondle the base of my shaft. "UUUUMmmm," I moaned, and I could feel Vi bite my shoulder as I pushed myself as deep as I could into her. I mashed her hand between us and began to come. As my sperm squirted, I moved my hips back to give her hand some room. She gently grabbed my penis again, feeling my orgasm pump into her. I looked at this vixen, and her eyes were smiling with mischievous delight. Whatever her need was at work for a physical...needless to say, she did quite well.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/14503.txt