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New Eden 26

Friar Dave

Jealousy

"About...10 years ago." Which would have made her 17 at the time of the barnyard romps. "Why?" She snorted. "Why? Because I wanted things, pretty things, and I..." She shrugged. My eyes followed the jiggling of her tits for a moment. "I have no regrets, though. How'd you like them?" "I was surprised," I said. "I never really got too much out of the idea of watching a woman with a dog or any other animals, really. I bought them because I thought I recognized your face." "What surprised you?" "That it aroused me so much watching you orgasm like that, over and over, with the dogs and the horse and all. You weren't faking, were you?" She shook her head. "I wanted to do it, but at first I was a little inhibited about doing it in front of a camera. Especially with animals." She paused. "So they gave me some pills that made me -- more relaxed about things. Anyhow, I'd like to see the tapes." After a few seconds, I remembered to close my mouth. "You're kidding. You never saw them?" She shook her head, her mouth filled with wine. "I was underage to see such things. The law wouldn't want me to lose my innocence by seeing such things. Can I see them?" "Sure. I'll give them to you." "No -- I want to see them with you, see how you react seeing me with a dog. And men." There was a clear challenge in her tone and posture. She refilled her glass -- nearly emptying the bottle in the process -- put her feet up on the coffee table and took a sip, watching me over the rim of the glass. Her eyes were huge and liquid brown and knowing. She lowered the glass. "Well?" She smoothed the calf-length plaid skirt, accentuating the length and shapeliness of those fine legs. "Now?" "Why not?" "Do you always answer a question with another question?" "Do I?" Game, set and match. With more than a little unease, I rose and loaded the first tape into the VCR, then sat on the couch a foot or so from Inez, maintaining what had become her comfort zone around me. But as the crude titles flashed, she glanced at me. "Why are you all the way over there? Come closer." By the time young Inez on the screen was at the center of a swarm of men, her breathing was shallower and her nipples were clearly swollen inside the burgundy leotard. When screen Inez was being fucked by the second helper, the genuine article on the couch with me was twisting her hands in her lap and shifting from side to side. And then the first dog was fucking his knot into her. "This is really hot!" she breathed. She grabbed my hand and used it to pull her shirt to her thighs, then jammed my knuckles against the soaked crotch of her leotard. She ground her pussy against my hand, moaning softly. "Oh, yes, I remember how it filled me..." "Wait'll you see the Great Dane," I muttered. My cock was as stiff as a piece of iron. Watching her younger self with the ram seemed to take some of the edge off for her, but when she saw the Great Dane hunching his massive hindquarters, she fumbled the snaps open at her crotch and dragged her panties out of the way. "Put your fingers in me!" she hissed, forcing my hand against her wet crotch -- not that I put up any resistance. I extended two fingers and they slid into her pussy. She was a steamy, swampy morass inside. "He was so huge!" I reached over to tweak her nipples through the leotard. She shivered. "Fuck me," she said softly, urgently. "Fuck me hard. I need to be fucked." I looked at her, a bit surprised. Not that Inez never used such language -- it was rare, but she did when the situation merited it, such as in discussing the job market or Rush Limbaugh's relationship to accuracy -- but her tone was different. So was her face, especially her eyes. She seemed utterly consumed by lust, as if another Inez had emerged from some inner hibernation. "Come on, fuck me, give it to me -- ream me out!" She said, her voice hoarse and her tone throaty. She pulled my hand from between her legs, drew her knees up to her chest and stripped off her panties. She sat her heels on the edge of the couch cushion on either side of her hips and thrust forward with her cunt. "Give it to me, you fucker!" Her eyes never left the screen, where young Inez had her legs up and over the Dane's back, holding on for dear life as the huge beast shagged madly into her. She grabbed my hand by the wrist and thrust it frantically against her cunt. I easily slipped a third finger into her slick, hungry pussy. "More! Give -- me -- MORE!" She moaned and jerked when my pinky slid into her open pussy. Holding my forearm in both her hands, she jerked my fingers back and forth in her cunt as if she was holding a dildo. "More...more...more..." On the screen, the overheated young woman lay back, arms wide to each side, head bobbing and shaking loosely while her hips shook in time with the thrusts from big dog. On the sofa, the overheated young woman was jabbing my hand in her crotch and ramming her cunt with my fingers. "MORE!" More? Inez had a very petite frame, and it simply didn't seem possible. On the other hand -- so to speak -- the young Inez on the screen was taking a dick as thick as her arm and loving it. "Give...it...to...me!" she grunted. I folded my thumb across my palm and watched in astonishment as she drove my hand slowly into her cunt. It was difficult getting the wide base of my hand past her pubic bones, but she kept pushing her twat forward while driving my hand inward. I used my free hand to pull her pussy lips clear, and I watched and felt my hand slide wrist-deep into her molten pussy. "Yessss..." She began bucking her hips, fucking my hand inside her cunt and arching her pelvis downward to rub her clitoris against the side of my wrist. "Fuck it -- fuck it -- fuck it -- " On the screen, young Inez was screaming and cumming abundantly beneath the almost motionless dog: tie time. On the sofa, Inez was softly howling and cumming abundantly. And when Screen Inez had finally taken all of the dog's hot and copious jism and seemed sated for the moment, Sofa Inez was far from finished, now pounding my hand into her. I was worried about hurting her. She wasn't worried about anything. While the Energizer Bunny might have kept going...and going...and going, this sexy South American bunny kept cumming...and cumming...and cumming. "I want to suck your cock, swallow your cum, make you cum in my mouth, drink you down..." The thought had a lot of appeal. However, given that I was somewhat less well-endowed than the Great Dane, getting my cock to the level of her mouth simply wasn't feasible while my hand was buried in her snatch. I pointed out this logistical dilemma to her. "Don't care -- gotta swallow it, taste it." She pulled my hand back through the tightest part of her cunt. Her eyes rolled upward in their sockets, showing the whites. With a flick of her foot, she pushed the coffee table on its casters back from the sofa, then crouched in front of me. She unzipped me, pulled out my dick and promptly sucked it to the back of her mouth.While the screen behind her shifted to a shot of her on her hands and knees, presenting to a donkey who was being ably assisted by a chunky brunette, Inez gobbled my prick noisily, slurping and sucking very, very hard. But Inez was not content, not by a long shot. She groped behind her back with one hand until her fingers found the empty wine bottle. She set it on its base on the floor between her legs and lowered her pussy onto it. She took the neck into her cunt and started rolling her hips -- all the time sucking away at my dick -- and gradually drove the bottle into her pussy all the way to the top of the main label. The deeper she took the bottle, the deeper she seemed to hunger for my cock in her throat. Her head went lower and lower and then my glans was jammed through the constriction at the back of her throat and into her gullet. She was groaning and the vibrations were doing nothing to calm the bubbling in my nuts. Inez started bobbing her head and hips simultaneously, backing my cock out of her throat until only the knob was in her mouth as she raised her hips till maybe half the bottle's neck was still in her pussy. Then she'd drive her mouth back down on my cock until her nose was buried in my pubic hair while forcing her cunt down around the bottle. And none of this was happening slowly. She was bouncing on that bottle and bobbing on my cock. And cumming. "Oh, shit," I moaned, and my balls lurched. She held my pricktip in her mouth and vacuumed the cum up out of my balls. I spurted long and hard and then again, and Inez swallowed and sucked for more. The more I came, the crazier she seemed to get and the more of the bottle she absorbed into her vagina. By the time I was dried out, the top of the "Chateauneuf de Pape" identification was hidden inside her still hungry cunt. She wasn't done with my dick, though, and kept sucking as urgently as before, her tongue moving against the underside of my cock and making me want to scream with that familiar post-ejaculation hypersensitivity. I just couldn't give any more or take any more. "Enough," I gasped. Her eyes suddenly focused, and her mouth work halted. She let my limp dick ooze out of her mouth -- and stared, wide-eyed and slack-jawed as she came yet again. This time, though, she'd had enough and slowly dislodged the bottle from her twat. It came out with a little pussy fart and a slurp. She set the bottle out of the way and sat heavily on the floor, knees pulled up with her arms around them. She panted rapidly for a few moments. So did I. Neither of us spoke audibly, but our eyes were in alignment. "Geez, am I sore!" she remarked, climbing unsteadily to her feet. Her knees visibly wobbled. She placed a throw pillow on the sofa and sat carefully next to me. She took my hand in both of hers and examined it. "I can't believe I did that." "Me neither. Especially when you grabbed my forearm and started using my hand like a dildo." "Hmmmm. How'd you like it?" "It was an amazing turn on." "Really..." She seemed to be pondering that. "And you couldn't get enough into your sweet pussy to scratch the itch, either." She seemed to be thinking about something as she distantly said, "So I guess you know, now." "I'm not sure." I suspected, though. "Danny, I really like you, and I really like your company and going places and doing things with you." "You just don't find me attractive." "No! That's not it -- " I stood. "Hey, my ego can handle the hit. Would you like some more wine?" She giggled and blushed. "Not the same bottle?" I shook my head. "I have a lovely Riesling." "Please." I went into the kitchen. A moment later, she stood in the doorway, watching as I uncorked the bottle and took down a pair of glasses. "I do find you attractive. It's just that -- well, now that you know about me, how can you respect me? How could you treat me?" I stared her in the eyes for a moment. "The same, but with more touching...I hope." Her eyes became wet. "No," she said. "No, you couldn't. You couldn't kiss me without knowing what had been in my mouth. You couldn't put it in me without remembering the dogs and goat and donkey. And yet you couldn't be with me without thinking how so many months passed when I would not do with you what I would do with animals." I poured some wine and tried to smile gently. "Of course I could, Inez. That was a long time ago." I handed her a glass. She sniffed it, swirled it expertly and took a sip, aspirating the wine against her palate. "This is lovely," she said. She abruptly upended the glass and drained the wine. "Danny, you're wrong." "No, I know myself and -- " "Not that. About the time. It wasn't a long time ago." "But you said it was 10 years ago." "For the film, yes. But I haven't stopped. I still do it, every chance I get." The numbness started in my belly. "Men always get possessive and demanding, wanting to trade attention or favors or companionship for sex, then acting like they own me. But the animals put no conditions on their affections. I prefer it -- I enjoy it more than I've ever enjoyed any man...or woman. I can just let go and indulge myself. I love the feeling when a big dog gets his knot in me and starts swelling and squirting. Nothing has ever given me as much pure, hedonistic pleasure -- and with no strings, no worries." Her nipples were hard inside the leotard. "I don't need men -- or women -- for sex, Danny. And that's why we can't see each other again. Because I know what you'd be feeling every time we were together." She put her glass on the counter. "I'm sorry it has to be this way." She looked truly sad. "Tell me one thing?" I nodded mutely. "What do you feel?" I took a deep breath and moistened my dry lips. "Jealousy." She inclined her head slightly. "Thank you for being honest. Good-bye." I stood, rooted in the kitchen, as she went into the living room. I heard movements, then the door opening and closing. I slowly raised my glass and sipped the wine. It was, indeed, lovely. And I felt totally detached, numb, as if I were moving in a dream. I went into the living room and locked the door -- and noticed that the tapes were gone. I never saw them -- or her -- again. But I cannot forget what happened that afternoon. And, to my surprise, I still cannot erase the images from those films from my memory. To this day, when I see a pretty girl walking a large dog, I remember what Inez told me and all-too-vividly recall the scenes from the tapes. I become aroused and feel a quick rush of anger. No -- not anger. Jealousy.

MF best

Part 2

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/13491.txt

Jonathan Dzoba

Gwen & Wendy - Amateur Astronomers

"You mean that's it? Twenty miles back?" Gwen said, a little shocked. "Yup. That's it. That's the last you'll see of civilization," I told her. "This really is like Mars," she said. I laughed. "It's OK. There's no phone, but there is the truck. And it's summer, so we won't get snowed in or anything. Besides, we can always walk," I said. "Long walk. But nothing's gonna go wrong with your dad's truck, is it?" she asked hopefully. "I doubt it. It's only a year old. And dad had it checked before we left." "That's good," Gwen sighed. "So what's the cabin like? Real little?" "Uh huh. One room. One bed. Mom and dad bought it before we were born. They've been trying to sell it and get a bigger one somewhere else," I said. "Any luck?" Gwen asked. "Not yet. Not many people want one this small, I guess." "Are there any other cabins nearby?" Gwen wanted to know. "Huh uh. Well, there is one on the other side of the lake, but it's pretty far away. You'd have to walk ten miles to get to it, and it doesn't have a phone either, I don't think," I replied. "Sure hope we've got enough of everything for two weeks," Gwen said. "I think so. We packed enough, plus mom packed more junk that I wouldn't have even thought about: extra batteries and stuff. Good thing she thought of all that," I said. "Really. Your folks are really great to let us use the place, too." "That's what it's there for," I said, echoing my dad's sentiments. "Wendy? Where's the can opener?" "In the box somewhere," I replied, shouting across the cabin. "Which one?" she asked. "I don't know. Try the...." "Nevermind. I found it," she shouted before I finished. I came out ten minutes later after drying my hair as best I could with just a towel. That was all I had wrapped around me when I went out to check on supper. "How's it going, chef?" I said. "Not bad, but I don't know the first thing about starting THAT up," Gwen said, pointing to the gas grill. "Oh I know how to do that," I said, and started fiddling with the tank. "Jeez. Why don't you get dressed first or something," she scolded. "Doesn't matter. Nobody here but you and me," I returned. "Oh. Yeah. I forgot," she murmured. It only took a few minutes before we had the grill going and a couple of hot dogs roasting away. We sat on the back porch and talked. We talked about school. Where we were going to college. We were definitely going to the same college. But which one we weren't sure. Any place that had a good astronomy school. Cal Tech was the best as far as we were concerned. It was close enough and our folks could afford anything. Gwen and I had been friends forever. Or since junior high, at least. We met in astronomy club and that became the basis of our friendship. Over the years we had done a lot of stuff together. Field trips and so on. Mostly with our school clubs, though. This was the first time we had been away alone together. The cabin was in the mountains two hundred miles north of the city. LA. We both had our scopes with us. I went back inside and got dressed. Gwen had stuff ready when I came back out a few minutes later. We ate dinner and then went back inside and unpacked the rest of our stuff. Gwen took a shower while I went back out and set up the telescopes. It was only seven when she came back out and not quite dark yet. "Can't see much yet," I said. "Still too light." Gwen walked up to her scope and adjusted it. She pointed it up and took a quick look. Nothing. I could tell by the expression on her face. She swung it back down and sat on the swing. "We should get some chairs out here. Something sturdier to sit on," she told me. "Mmm," I agreed. I went inside to look for some. I found two old wooden folding chairs in the closet and a couple of cushions that looked like they'd been through World War II. "Have to do, I'm afraid," I said apologetically. "Can't think of everything," I sighed. "We'll know better next time. Bring something to sit on. How dumb can we get," she stated. "Between you and me, pretty dumb," I chided. Gwen laughed. "But smart enough to get into Cal Tech." "True," I said. "But that's a different kind of smart." "Do you really think so?" Gwen asked seriously. "Yup. My dad says so all the time. Common sense. Takes years to learn." "I don't know," Gwen said, unconvinced. "Look at my mom. Look at all the stuff she remembered to pack and we didn't," I said. "But that's experience, not just common sense," Gwen said. "Hard to tell the difference," I said. "I suppose," said Gwen, conceding the point. We talked more for a while, mostly about what we knew we'd see in the skies, and then fell silent. We fiddled with our scopes. I was concentrating on the sky. Gwen was looking at the shoreline on the other side of the lake. "Who are these guys?" she asked, breaking the long silence. "What?" I said, not quite catching her question. "Who's this?" she said, pointing with her finger across the lake while keeping her eye to the scope. I moved my scope down and tried to find where she was looking. It took a minute. "I see 'em," I said. I looked carefully at the couple walking along the edge of the lake. "I don't know. Don't recognize them," I said, not interested. "Do a lot of people just walk up here?" Gwen asked. "How should I know," I said. "Well I thought maybe they lived in the other cabin and you'd know them or something," she said. "Not really. Dad said the old guy who used to own it died two years ago and it was up for sale too." "Oh," Gwen replied. I turned my scope back up to the sky. Stars were starting to appear. I was starting to get into it when Gwen interrupted again. "Check this out. I don't believe it," she said quietly. "What? What's going on?" I asked taking my eye from the scope. She knew it would take me time to get my scope lined up to see, so she moved away from her's. "Here. Look for yourself," she told me. I leaned over to her scope and peeked in. It took a second for my eyes to adjust to the dark view the scope afforded. Slowly I began to discern figures moving, but I couldn't make out what was happening. "What's going on?" I asked, not moving from the lens. "They're in the water," Gwen said. "So?" I replied. "She's sucking him off," Gwen giggled helplessly. "What?" I said, straining to understand the scene with my brain now as well as my eyes. As soon as Gwen supplied me with the overall picture I realized what I was looking at. Gwen had moved in so close I couldn't see it at first. There it was, though. Her mouth moving over him again and again. I couldn't believe it. "Let me see," Gwen said. I moved aside. "Let them alone, would you, you pervert," I laughed. "No. This is amazing," she said, and went back to watch them. "Gwen?" I said, shocked. "Oh come on. They don't even know it. It's not hurting anyone," she said. "You're a sicko, you know that?" I told her, and went back to my own scope. I tried not to pay any attention to her as she kept watch on our neighbors. About five minutes went by. I was awakened by curiosity. "So what's happening now?" I asked as uncuriously as possible. "Not much. They're done." Gwen took her eye from the scope. "They went inside," she said matter-of-factly. I didn't bother to ask the logical conclusion of the act that was in progress. "Are you done playing peeping tom now? Want to look at the stars?" I suggested pithily. "Oh come on. Where's your spirit of adventure? You can't tell me you aren't part voyeur if you want to look at the stars," she grinned. I had never thought of it that way. "I don't know if that applies," I said honestly. "Does to me," Gwen said simply. "You mean you really enjoyed that?" I asked. "I suppose, yes. Otherwise I wouldn't have done it," she said."It was like something was drawing me to watch," she said. "Curiosity," I said, remembering my own feeling. "No, more than that. I wanted to see THEM. It's like I was an unwanted intruder that no one could see," she said. "That's bizarre," I said. Gwen just looked at me and shrugged. She readjusted her scope and went back to looking at what she had been looking at before. I gave up on her and went on looking at the stars. It was at least half an hour before Gwen nudged me once more. "What now? Are they doing it in mid-air?" I said. "No. Just in bed," Gwen said. I was caught off guard. "You mean they're really doing it?" I said, turning my head away from my scope. "Yes, they're really doing it," she mimicked. "Where?" I said unbelievingly. "In bed, I said. Take a look," Gwen said, and offered her scope to me. Instead, I trained my own to the location of interest. "Couldn't pass it up, huh?" Gwen kidded me. "Oh, stop it. I just want to see...," I started but decided not to bother finishing and concentrated on positioning my telescope. When I got the picture in view, I was more or less aghast. "Ugh," I said disgustedly. "Really," Gwen agreed. They were on the bed in their cabin making love. No covers or anything. He was on top. There was a lamp lit inside, which is the only reason we could see anything at all. Why they had let it stay on, I don't know. Maybe they figured, wrongly, that no one was going to be around watching them. The whole picture was quite clear. We could zoom in as close as we wanted to. I dared myself to do it and found myself trapped. I watched his cock going up and down, disappearing into her between her legs. It was long and hard. I moved back a little and looked at him. He was young, about twenty-five, and lean and hard, but not overly muscular. But you could see his biceps straining to hold himself up. I wondered if he was sweating. I couldn't tell through the scope. I moved the scope over to her face and zoomed in. She was pretty. She had long hair, light-colored. I couldn't tell if it was blond or light brown or not. I moved back down and looked at her legs. They were OK. I went back up to see her boobs. They were pretty big. "Bigger than mine, that's for sure," I said out loud inadvertently. "What?" Gwen said. "You don't even have one," she said. "No, dope. I mean her. I was looking at her boobs," I said secretively. "Oh. Yeah. Not bad," Gwen said. I could tell she had had a look at them to confirm this. "How would you know?" I said. Gwen didn't say anything. I figured she knew I was right and had lost the point. But just then I felt her hand close around my breast under my cutoff top. "Gwen?" I half shouted, jumping back, surprised and laughing. "Definitely," she rejoined, pointing at me and laughing with me. "God!" I said. "Keep your hands to yourself," I warned her. "OK. OK. Just kidding. I had to find out, though," she laughed. "So now you know," I said. Gwen had gone back to watching them. I thought about it for a second, then I did too. They had switched positions meanwhile, and she was now riding him. It wasn't as much fun to watch because I couldn't see him anymore. I watched his face for a while and looked at his chest for a long time. I began to wonder if he would come and then remembered he'd already had an orgasm before in the lake. I looked down in between. I saw her leg as she rose up and down him but couldn't see much in between. I moved up and saw her upper body going up and down more than her lower body was. Her boobs bounced. Suddenly, she leaned over, and I lost sight of her. I readjusted my view and pulled back a little. She was leaning over his chest, and he was playing with her boobs a little. I was getting bored. I thought about moving back up to the sky and thought about what I would see there. The stars seemed cold. I tried to move around to get a more interesting picture, but I needn't have. She dismounted him so quickly I thought she left. I saw his face and knew he must be about to come. I moved my scope so quickly down to catch him that I went past and had to pull back. She, whoever she was, was there already, holding him in her hands and pumping him gently. He came a second after I focused, and she moved her head behind him but not over him. She did not want to take him in her mouth now. Instead, she licked him and held him as he spurted over her hand. "Whew," Gwen said softly. "Shh!" I said, as if they could hear us. Gwen muffled a laugh. "Stop it!" I said, concentrating on what was happening. Gwen quieted down. There wasn't much else. They kissed a lot, and it got pretty boring. I stopped looking. Gwen was already sitting on the porch swing. I got up and stretched my aching back and buttocks, reaching down to rub them. "So you shouldn't watch that kind of stuff, huh? Make you go blind, eh?" Gwen chided. "Oh, cool it. You're the one that got me started," I said. I went over and sat beside her. "But you couldn't resist, could you? Admit it," she taunted. "Yeah. But God knows why. It's so dumb," I said. Gwen didn't reply. We swung the swing together. "Do you figure they're married?" Gwen asked. "Probably," I answered. "Probably on their honeymoon," I added. "Why?" "Who else does it in the lake?" I said. "Probably," Gwen laughed. I thought about my own folks. I wondered if they'd done it here. I tried to figure how old they'd've been when they first got the place. "Shit! That's the year I was born," I said without thinking. I could see Gwen calculating quickly. "You mean you figure...," Gwen started. "Shush," I said. But it was too late. Gwen was giggling. "God, you're unbearable," I told her straightfacedly. And then I started laughing. "Do you think...," Gwen said, not even finishing, but pointing across the lake. We both broke out laughing again. "Maybe she'll grow up to like astronomy...," I started. "And look over here...," Gwen burst out laughing. I cracked up and bent over double to try to stop myself from laughing so hard. Unfortunately, it caused my back muscles to cramp on my side. "Oh!" I said in laughter and pain, reaching back to hold my back and side. "Ow!" I said again as a new cramp began. "What's the matter?" Gwen asked, still giggling. "Cramp," I said, putting my hand to my side. "Here, let me rub it," she said quickly. She put her hand over onto my back and began to rub it where my hand was. I turned immediately away from her so she could push against it. She did and continued to massage my back until the pain lifted. "Sitting too long," I said. "I'm sure they won't have any cramps," Gwen said, nodding across the lake. I laughed, and my back cramped a little again in the same spot. "Wow!" I said, stiffening up. "Relax," Gwen said, kneaded it till it began to relax again. A half minute later, she slowed down. "Don't stop, it's not gone yet," I said to her. "Well then, put your feet up or something because I can't reach it this way," she complained. I swung my legs up to the end of the porch swing and put them out under the arm. I tried to sit up straight to keep the muscles from cramping again. Gwen rubbed at the lower part of my back as best she could. It probably wasn't working too well. "Turn over," she commanded. I scrunched and groaned and pushed and wiggled my body over the wooden surface till I had turned over. I had to scoot up and put my shoulders on Gwen's lap for her to reach my back. "That's better. At least I can reach it now," she said, and continued to rub my low back. "Oh god, that feels good," I said. And it did. My muscles must really have gone into stasis sitting there that long. "You would think we'd be used to it by now," I said. "I don't think we usually sit and watch uninterrupted that long," Gwen remarked. "That's true," I said. "We usually don't watch that though," I added. "Would be a strange sky if we did," Gwen tacked on. I smiled. Her hands felt so good I almost drifted off. She moved them up my back, and their warmth was inviting sleep. She didn't hesitate to put her hands under the back of my loose top. I didn't care. It felt good. She massaged my shoulders, and it took the ache of driving out of them. Her hands moved down my sides over my rib cage and massaged that too. It all felt good. She concentrated on my lower back with the heel of her hand. She stretched over to reach the far side of me, and I lifted a little to readjust. I turned my head inwards and looked up. Her breasts were hanging directly above me, covered only by a top like mine. They were bigger. Fuller. I tried not to notice and turned my head the other way. But I didn't want to look at the lake. I wanted to look at her stomach up close for some reason. I turned my head right back. "Make up your mind," Gwen said, irritated by my shifting position so much. "Sorry. I'll stay here," I told her. She resumed her hand motions. I stared at her bare stomach. I looked at the marks and small downy hairs and her belly button. I could not help but see the beginning of her breasts, although I did not look up at them. I forgot what her hands were doing. I was engrossed in her stomach. My finger appeared at it without my knowing I had moved my arm. It rested on her belly button. I pushed my finger into it, trying to be funny. "Stop that!" Gwen said, almost laughing. I gently moved it in and out several times. "In, out, in, out," I crooned. "God. Stop that, will you?" Gwen laughed. I withdrew my hands, and my eyes shifted upwards. I found myself looking at the bottoms of her breasts. They were large and nicely rounded.Guys would definitely like to hold them, I told myself. I wondered if any ever had. She had never told me. I hadn't ever asked. I tried to see her nipples. Only part of them occasionally came into view as she bent further over to rub me lower. I suddenly felt her hands go under the waist of my cutoffs. Those cutoffs were big. They had been my dad's jeans. I had inherited them. Her hand slid under easily and went right under my underwear too. She pulled it back out again right away and continued massaging me the same way for a while. Her hand felt good still. Warm. It moved off to the side of my hip and went further down the side of my leg, then back up and out. As she did it again and again, I went back into a small trance and found myself looking at her again. I moved my hand a little on her stomach back and forth. It was moist-sticky from being in one spot so long. It bumped across. I lifted it and turned it over. The back of my hand was dry and moved to the side of her stomach easily. It tickled her a little. She twisted underneath it. Her hand went to the other hip suddenly and I started. I enjoyed what I was doing without much thought or concern... She kept massaging me. Her hand went down the middle of my bottom, rubbing with the heel of her hand. Then down one side and the other. Then she began using her fingers. She massaged and dug her fingers into my bottom. I was a little nervous for a second, but decided to trust her. She kept touching me and soon it began to feel good. Soon it began to feel less massaging and more touching. I still trusted her. Her fingers slid between and she moved them apart. They slid right down to my hole and I knew she meant what she was doing, yet I could not stop her. I told myself she was still just rubbing me in a massaging sort of fashion. She touched me this way for what seemed like forever, her finger exploring over the top of my hole, threatening to go in, but only pushing at it slightly. It made me squirm and push myself down onto the hard swing. I got wet in between. Suddenly, her fingers touched the back of my opening and nearly slid in. I was unready, unaware and unsure of what to do. I wanted to stop her then, but she put her fingers inside of me and I could not stop her. They went right in. The wetness they brought back she dragged back over my dry hole excited me to an unbelievable peak. It wetted me more and I wanted her to push in, even there. I guess she knew what I was thinking. She pressed her finger into me and I tensed. She eased up and withdrew it, then pushed again a little and withdrew again, then circled it with her fingertip. I relaxed again and her fingers went back down lower. I could not help but raise my bottom and she reached inside of me again. I sighed softly as her fingers entered me, my breathing coming faster. Her fingers pushed into me again and again till I felt myself gripping them and responding without any control on my part. I was afraid. "Gwen please," I said weakly. She leaned over me and pushed her fingers underneath me completely, finding my clitoris. She rubbed it as best she could, but it was awkward for her hand, I could tell. She took her hand out completely. "I can't reach you. Turn over please," Gwen said quietly. I twisted myself around and looked up at her. "What are you doing?" I asked her. "Playing with you," she replied succinctly. "Why?" "Because I am, that's all. Do you want me to finish or not?" she asked. "Are you sure you want to do this?" I asked, knowing that I would not stop her. "I wouldn't be doing it if I didn't want to do it," she replied. "Do you mind?" she added. "Maybe we'd better go inside," I said, starting to get up. Gwen put her hand down on my stomach. "No. Just stay where you are, OK?" Her hand came up to my face and went to my cheek. She brushed it. I looked at her eyes to see what she was feeling and saw her looking at me deeply in thought. "It's OK," I reassured her. "I - "I faltered, "I don't mind so much as long as it's you," I told her, taking her hand from my cheek and holding it in my own. She smiled. I put her hand down deliberately on my stomach and moved it in a circle. She smiled again and began to move her hand on her own. I reached down lower and unzipped my cutoffs and undid the snap. "There," I said. Gwen's hand stayed on my stomach. She touched it lightly and I found I had lost the urgency I'd had only a minute before. I put my hand up her side and under her cutoff t-shirt. I felt the side of her body and then moved directly over her breast. I felt the nipple go by under my palm. Gwen reacted by closing her eyes. I touched her breast lightly as she did my stomach. Then her hand wandered upward and touched my breasts, too. We did this for quite some time, stimulating each other gradually. At last I reached up and pulled her hand downward. I was beginning to become excited again and needed to feel her touch. She accepted my guidance and her hand floated over the top of my exposed underpants. I pushed my mound up into her hand. She smiled and rubbed the top of it, patting it gently. It made me want to come when she did that! I squeezed her breast in my hand and tried to touch her other with my other hand. It wouldn't reach easily, but I traced it before I put my hand back down again. Gwen smiled at me again, and her hand pressed harder into my mound. "Touch me Gwen," I pleaded. She used her fingers to press deep into my panties, but it wasn't enough. I pushed up to see if it would help. She moved her fingers lower and suddenly they slipped under the edge of my panties. They rushed across my hairs, brushing them and searching. I was so wet that she had no trouble in finding my clitoris. She rubbed it with her fingers. I closed my eyes and moved against her fingers. The more she rubbed the closer I came. She speeded up and suddenly I put my hands down on top of hers. I came, pushing myself up into her hand, holding her there. Gwen waited patiently till I lifted my own hands. Then she closed her hand around my mound and just held it for a while. It felt good. I didn't know what to say. Gwen smiled down at me and her hand began to move playfully around me again. "OK?" she said. "Mmm hmm," I murmured. Then I lifted up her hand to stop her and sat up. "Inside?" I asked. "OK," she replied, and got off the swing. We took our telescopes in with us. There was only one bed. We had planned on sharing it anyway. But not, I was sure, like this. Gwen lay down and I sat beside her. I let my hand go down to her cutoffs. "Would you like me to do you, too?" I asked. "Of course," she said. "If you want to," she added. I smiled back at her and rubbed her groin to stimulate her and answer her question at the same time. I was glad she was going to let me return the favor. I thought I should. In a way I was eager to. It was an adventure and she was my best friend. I could trust her. She lay back and put her hands behind her head. It raised her cutoff top some and I smiled at the fact that she had, even inadvertently, exposed her breasts to me. I leaned down and kissed them and looked up at her to see her face. She had closed her eyes, but I could tell from her mouth that I had done something she had wanted me to do. I molded her breasts in my hands and took her nipples into my mouth. I sucked them and squeezed her breasts gently in my hands. It felt wonderful. Her nipples got hard and I bit them a little, sliding my fingers over them wetly. I slid down slowly, licking her stomach and preparing to remove her cutoffs. I knew what I wanted to do. She was waiting for me. I unbuttoned her cutoffs and unzipped them quickly. I tugged them down her legs and her pants came off with them. I put them on the floor and turned back to look at her. She had her eyes open and was watching me. I put my hand down on the top of her thigh and stroked it lovingly, smiling at her. My hand wandered to the inside of her leg and she closed her eyes again. I looked at her. She was pretty. My head turned to look at her legs where I was caressing. She had slim legs. I moved my hand down and touched her toes and feet and caressed up her leg slowly. When I reached her inner thighs again, she moved her legs apart more. She lifted her knee up and I moved between them, pushing the other leg out towards the edge of the bed with my hand. I put my hands up to her mound and moved them around, caressing her gently. I smoothed the hairs back and moved them away from the center of her. It exposed her lips and I put my finger to them, moving them lightly back and forth. I was going to play with her with my fingers, just as she had done to me. Only I could see her in front of me. This was different. She had just touched me, not seen me. I wondered if she had wanted to. I was going to ask her, but didn't. It would have broken the spell I thought. Instead I just moved my fingertip over her again and again. I knew where to concentrate at the top, and finally I was just going in little circles around her hidden button. Gwen was beginning to respond: moving her hips in a slow rhythm. I knew just how she felt. I felt it with her as I touched her and saw her expressions. I knew when it felt very good. It was fascinating to play with her and keep her and see her in that state of suspended pleasure. I wanted it to last a long time. I deliberately withheld excitement from building up too fast just to watch myself touching her privately. I moved my fingertip up to the very top of her and pulled the hood back with it, temporarily exposing her clitoris. I was so fascinated by it that I used my other hand to hold back the hood and keep it exposed while my fingertip roamed over it again and again.I knew Gwen would come quickly if I kept doing that, but I couldn't help myself. I looked at her and knew with her eyes closed tight that she wanted to come soon. I took her clit between the tips of my thumb and forefinger and slid it back into its little hood, then out again carefully. I did it again and once more. Then many times quickly. Gwen's body stiffened and her legs pressed together as I rubbed her after her climax. She gripped my hand in her thighs and held it there until the spasms between her legs subsided. She released my hand, and I smiled at her when she opened her eyes again. She just looked at me. There wasn't anything to say between us. What had happened had happened. We both understood it. I smiled at her again, and she let her leg fall down. I pulled the bedspread up over her and covered her, tucking her in. She smiled at me broadly, laughing silently at my motherly gesture. I sat up at the edge of the bed and undid my cutoffs. I took them off sitting there, and, leaving my underwear and top on, climbed into bed beside her. "Thanks," Gwen said, "I needed that." "I did, too," I said. "I've never done that before," I told her. "Neither have I," Gwen told me. "Watching them made me horny," she said. "Me too," I added. "How come you...," I started. "I don't know. At first I was just rubbing your back because you needed it, but it felt good touching you, too, after a while," Gwen said. "Oh," I said. There was a silence. "Have you ever done it?" she asked. "You know, with a guy?" "No," I told her. "I haven't yet either," she said quietly. We didn't say much for a while. I slid down a little and began to get comfortable and a little sleepy. Gwen looked at me and moved down beside me. We were facing each other. She smiled at me again. I put my head down on the pillow. Gwen put her hand up to my face and touched my cheek. I looked at her. Her hair tumbled down beside her as she leaned on her elbow. I reached out and took it in my hand, threading it through my fingers. I did it several times. Gwen began brushing my hair from my forehead. Then she leaned forward and kissed my forehead. I wanted to do the same for her, but she met me halfway and put her lips against mine instead. I held off for a second, but it was too late. She pressed her lips against mine, and I kissed her back. We stood back and looked at each other, trying to gauge each other's feelings. Then we kissed again, slowly. Our lips met and clung, twisting across time. Gwen's hand went down to my chest and rubbed my breasts with the back of her hand. I did the same for her. We kissed for a very long time, touching one another gently. Then we moved closer together, and the warmth was intoxicating. We pressed into one another and held each other in our arms. We were lovers. I touched her back and bottom, and she caressed me. I was on my back, and she leaned over me, pressing her body against mine. Our legs met and crossed, twining for warmth. I felt her hairs on my thigh and became excited. I kissed her harder, and she responded by opening her mouth to me. Our tongues played together wetly. Our bodies mixed warmly. I relished the feeling of her breasts against mine. Gwen surprised me and climbed right on top of me, putting both her legs between mine. She lay on top of me, and we kissed more. Her hands went under my head and held it as we kissed. Mine went to her back and sides and bottom. I loved to touch her bottom. It was soft. The hairs there were downy. Further down, I could almost reach her sex. I pressed my hands lower to find it, and she pushed her body upward toward my head to help me reach her. I began to slip my fingers inside of her again. She moaned pleasingly, but slid down so that I couldn't reach her anymore. She flipped her hair back and then kissed my neck. It tickled a little, and I giggled. Gwen smiled and kept going. She lowered herself further and kissed the bones in between and above my breasts. That felt hot and very sexy. She kissed there hard, and I sighed excitedly. "Gwen," I said softly. "Um hum," she said back affirmatively. She kissed my breasts and warmed my nipples with her tongue. I stroked her hair and held her head in place lightly, letting her move it as she wished until she found my nipples. Then I would keep it there till she moved it back to the other side. She lay down and used her hands to hold and squeeze my breasts while she kissed my stomach. I became very excited anticipating what I knew was going to happen. Gwen kissed her way down my stomach, and when she reached my panties, she tugged at the edge of them to pull them down. I lifted my bottom, and she slowly pulled them from me, down just below my mound. She moved to one side, putting her legs over me, and with one hand removed them completely. I helped her by bringing my knees up. She had to go under the covers to get them all the way off. When she lay back down, she parted my legs and moved in between them even lower than before. I was surprised to see her where she was. She lay down and moved my legs apart, looking at me in between. I watched her. She kissed my inner thighs, and I lay down and closed my eyes. I felt her kissing higher up, and then finally felt her fingers moving through the blond hairs surrounding me. She swept them aside and parted my lips. I felt a sudden rush of wetness inside. The next thing I felt was like a hot thing surrounding my clitoris. It was her tongue. I clutched the sheet in my fingers. Her tongue lashed at me, and it was not as hot, but wetter feeling the next time. It still felt good. Very good. Gwen continued to lick me slowly, and I began to react inside. I tensed and contracted every muscle in my groin and inside of my own pussy. Her tongue made me shiver in excitement. She moved me further apart with her fingers and pushed directly on top of my button with her tongue. The tip of it moved rapidly across my button clit, and I started to build to a new level of excitement. One step closer to orgasm. Gwen kept flicking at the top of my clit until I was moving excitedly underneath her. Then she licked me hard and flat with her tongue. Her fingers took over and played with me for a second or two. Her tongue must have needed a rest. But quickly she sucked my whole organ into her mouth, and I nudged closer to climax. She sucked me in and out of her mouth, and my pelvis was rising and falling quickly, matching her sucking action. She put her hands under my bottom and held it, forcing me up into her mouth. She sucked me hard right at the top of my clit, and I came. And came. And came. It was the longest, sweetest series of orgasms I'd ever had in my life. Gwen sucked me all through it till I pushed her away in protest. She pulled herself up and lay on top of me. I loved having her there and held her in my arms. She just put her head off to one side of mine and rested there. I knew what I had to do next. I pushed her off of me gently and rolled over on top of her. She smiled at me, and I smiled back a little, but kissed her passionately right away so we wouldn't lose the feelings of the moment. She kissed me back eagerly, and when her tongue entered my mouth, I tasted my own wetness. I pressed my body hard into hers and kissed her back the more eagerly for the taste of it. It excited me. I kissed her neck and her chest and spent a short time sucking her nipples. I kissed her ribs, sticking out above her stomach, and then licked at her belly button. But I moved quickly down. Her dark brown hairs were so different than mine I stared at them almost in amazement. I saw her peeking through and moved to kiss her. She tasted divine. I let my tongue go around her and pulled her lips apart. I sucked her and sucked her, twisting my fingers inside of her slowly as I did so. I felt her contracting around them. I put one more finger inside of her and used my other fingertip to play with her clit while I tongued it at the same time. She was throbbing inside, and her body pressed hard into the bed. I flicked at the top of her clit, and she came immediately. I surrounded her clit with my mouth and pushed my fingers deep in her. She pushed against my fingers and made them go even deeper, her pelvis shaking against my mouth. When she dropped down to the bed, I released my fingers from her and held her legs in my arms, keeping her down on the bed. I sucked her clit again right away, and she climaxed a second time. While she came down, I lay my head between her legs and just let it rest there. In a minute or two, I climbed up to be beside her. I spooned into her body from behind, and she pulled my hands up to her breasts. We covered up in the sheet and spread and went to sleep. The next morning, we separated and showered without saying much to each other. Gwen disappeared for a while, walking out into the woods. I was afraid maybe I'd done something wrong, but then figured that it was just what happened, and she needed to think. I didn't think about it too much. I was surprised at what we'd done, but thought that we'd done what we needed to do at the time. [chunk missing here... anyone have the whole thing?] Alissa didn't blush, but she went quiet again. So we walked on. About two miles out, we saw some animals. Just a couple of raccoons and rabbits, but Ali, for that was what she'd asked me to call her, Ali was amazed. I think if she'd had a camera or something, she'd have felt better. But she didn't think to bring hers with her when Gwen talked them into boating across the lake. She didn't figure she was going to use it. They hadn't planned on being gone long at all, in fact. "Do you really think we can stay out for four hours?" Alissa asked, as if I had to give her permission. "Who cares? You're on vacation, aren't you?" I said. "A honeymoon isn't exactly a vacation," Alissa said. "What's the problem?""You talk like you hate it," I said. "No, it's not that, it's just that, well, Mark and I have been living together for so long already that getting married was sort of his idea and not mine. It was like we had this vacation coming up and he wanted some excuse to do nothing but fool around," she said. "That's a shame. You guys seem like a real nice couple, though," I prompted. "I think he's turning into a real jock sometimes the way he hangs out with the guys and footballs and baseballs himself to death. We don't do any of the things we started out doing when we first knew each other," Ali complained suddenly. I wasn't sure I wanted to hear all her problems, but I decided to listen anyway. "So what the hell did you marry him for?" I said. "Because we were already married, I suppose. That just made it official," she said. "I think you've just made a whopper," I told her flat out. She laughed. I felt her suddenly not behind me. I looked back and she was standing in the middle of the trail crying. Just standing there with her hands at her sides, crying big tears. I walked back to her and put my arms around her. She clung to me and sobbed. I had burst the dam and I knew it. I tried to think, to gauge where we were. There was nothing around to offer a comfortable place to sit and talk. So I toughened up my voice and spoke to her like a drill sergeant. "Ten-hut," I said, pushing her away from me to arm's length. She laughed again in sobs, smiling at me and trying to regain herself. "On your way, soldier. The squirrels are waiting," I joked. She mock saluted me and I turned crisply to lead the way again. I decided not to speak to her. Instead, I led a brisker pace, so that we could get to the mine sooner. It might just walk it out of her, too. I turned only once to ask how she was doing, and one other time to point out a hawk circling high above. "Damn, I wish I had my camera," she groaned. I wondered if she was a real camera buff. It sounded like it. I knew enough about 35mm cameras to photograph the night sky. Gwen and I did our own developing. High-resolution black and white film. I saw it as just another aspect of astronomy mostly. We didn't see much other wildlife, but when we hit the brook, Alissa jumped up and down like a little kid. She said she'd grown up with one just like it near her grandmother's house. She splashed around in it as we followed it up the trail. "You're going to regret getting your sneakers soaked," I told her. "Oh, who cares?" she retorted, as if she no longer needed my permission. Which she didn't in the first place. I laughed at myself as well as her. I really was the motherly type. I couldn't help it. That was my personality.He spurted once into her tongue, and she choked a little. She kept her tongue going around him, spreading his come around his cock. She swallowed and tasted it a little. Then she went back for more. She sucked him into her mouth as he grew smaller. She was disappointed. She wanted more. She had expected more her first time. "No, we got an apartment together right away. I never had the chance to go to college. I never wanted to, not until all my friends did and graduated and got really good jobs and did interesting stuff. Then I knew what a jerk I'd been," Ali told me. I reached for a hot dog on the fire. "You're almost like a soap opera. When did you grow up? In the fifties or something?" I told her. "Yeah, I know I got no brains," she said self-deprecatingly. "So get some! Go to college and shit," I told her. "You're not exactly on your deathbed, you know. You can't be more than 25, I'd guess." "22. Mark says it's a waste. He's got a job and so do I, and we do all right. And I ask him what about the future, and he says the same thing. He's got a job and so do I, and we'll do all right. I tell him I don't want to do 'all right', I want something better, something different, something...," she ran out of words. "Get out now, then, while you still can," I advised her. "Easier said than done," she said, meaning her recently rushed marriage. "Easier done than said," I told her. "Or you'll pay forever." She looked at me dejectedly. "Eat another hot dog," I told her. She laughed. "How come you're so smart for somebody who's only... seventeen," she guessed. "Eighteen," I corrected. "My dad's a Ph.D... So's my mom. Born with it, I guess," I stated plainly. "You're lucky. You're going to college, right?" Ali asked, knowing the answer. "Let's go for a swim," I said. "No suit," Ali remarked dryly. "Don't need one. Nobody here but us chickens," I said. She looked at me. I looked back, daring her. She stood up and took off her top. I finished my hot dog in one bite and stood up, too. She was removing her shorts. I watched as I took off my clothes. It was hot enough after the hike, and the water in the little grotto was inviting. She slipped in, and I came in a minute later. The pool wasn't very big, just the catch from a small brook flowing downhill. It dropped over some rocks and made a little waterfall. "The miners dynamited this out," I told Ali. "How do you know?" she asked. "Local history, that's all." "Oh." "They used it for washing and mining. Got the water from the fall to drink before it hit the pool," I related. "Not very big," Ali said. "But deeper than it looks, huh?" I mentioned. I could see Ali testing for the bottom with her feet. The water was that clear. "God, I can see the bottom but I can't touch it. How deep is it?" she wanted to know. "About fifteen feet, actually," I told her. I swam over to her side of the pool. "It's cooler down further," she said. "Mmm hmm," I agreed knowingly. We didn't speak for a minute. "Do you do a lot of photography?" I asked. "It's my favorite thing to do. It's my only hobby, really. Sometimes I spend all day Saturday out with my camera while Jack's working. I look forward to it." "Why not open up your own shop then?" I suggested. "No money. No idea how to run it. What else...," she trailed off. "You're really down on yourself, aren't you?" I said. She looked at me. Her eyes were really tired and hopeless. I moved next to her and put my arm around her shoulder. "You really do need to get a little more self-confidence, you know. You've probably got the talent. I think you just need the drive and a little push. Maybe even someone to go in with," I told her. She reached up and pulled my hand down over her shoulder. "Thanks. Maybe I can convince Jack...," she started. "Don't convince him, just DO it!" I snapped. She let my hand go. "You don't know Jack. He's not that easy to waylay," Ali said. There was a minute's silence. "The water feels cold," Ali said, pulling herself up on the rocks. I swam away a little ways and then came back again. I put my arms up on her leg and folded them neatly. She was kicking her feet out in the water. "Would you show me some of your pictures? Do you have any back at your cabin?" I asked. Ali was surprised. "Not many. Just the last batch that I took. Nothing good, really. I mean not my best by any stretch," she gibbered. Anyone could tell she was more than pleased I asked. "Not to see them, no. He just looks at them and says 'They're real nice, Lissy'," she said distantly. "Lissy," I said, turning the nickname over with my tongue, "That's nice. I like it," I said. Ali looked at me. I patted her leg with my hand approvingly and then noticed something I hadn't before. "Do you always do that?" I said, turning my hand slightly and pointing between her legs. Alissa blushed. "No. Jack did it the other day. He convinced me. I didn't want to at first, but it kind of turned me on when he started doing it. Doesn't feel all that bad," she said. I'd never seen a woman without any hair down there. I saw all kinds of girls in the showers in phys-ed. But not this. I moved my hand over to just above her mound. I let my fingers run over the skin. It was smooth. No stubble. "Do you shave it every day now, or what?" I said, not looking up. "Most of it. Gently. It's just like shaving your legs," she laughed, "Only much more careful." I moved my fingers a little lower. "Can I see?" I asked curiously. "Wendy! There's nothing to see," she blushed. I slipped back into the water and walked around in front of her. I put my hands on her legs. "Come on. I've never seen one like this before," I said. "Please?" I looked at her pleadingly. She blushed again, but slowly let my hands push her legs apart. I moved my head closer to her private area. I touched the lips of her vagina and moved them a little. I looked at her from all angles, touching her and moving her around. "I think it looks better this way," I commented, not stopping. "Do you?" Ali said softly. "It's easier to reach," I said, looking at her and touching her clitoris, rubbing it in a small circle. I could see she was willing. "Is it?" she said breathlessly, looking at me distantly. I lowered my head and took her into my mouth. She groaned. I nibbled. She sighed. I ate her clit warmingly, and she moved underneath my loving. She tasted good, and I sucked her lightly, taking her in and out of my mouth gently. Then I kissed her. All around her clit and pussy. Her juices started to flow, and I took her clitoris back into my mouth. She held on to the rock she was sitting on. I could feel her erupting, but I wanted to suck her more. She rolled through her first orgasm to her second. The next one came quickly. After that, she remained excited as my fingers entered her, and I let her clit rest. I moved my hands inside her and built her slowly back up to desire again. Then I took them away and moved from her. I climbed out and lay on the cool rock beside her. "Now you do me," I told her. "I've never done this before," Ali said. "You'll do fine," I said. She went into the water. I felt her touching my legs and parting my hairs with her fingers. She took me in, and I closed my eyes against the warm sunshine. She did a fine job. We got dressed and went back. "So did you guys have a good time while we were gone?" I asked Gwen after Ali and Jack had left. She didn't answer. "What happened?" I asked. She told me. I told her what had happened. We ate supper. We looked at the stars. We went to bed. Late in the night, she woke me. She cuddled next to me, and we fell asleep again that way. When morning came, I lay looking at the early morning sunshine on the cabin walls. Gwen awoke, and her hands caressed my breasts. We made love, slowly kissing and waking. She spent a long time under the covers, kissing me. I liked to kiss her. Then she spent an equally long time kissing all of my body. My back and arms, my bottom especially, the backs of my legs, and finally my pussy. She sucked me worthily and long. When it was my turn, I pulled all the covers away and looked at her body. I tried to imagine her without any hair down there. The idea excited me, but I didn't say anything to her about it. I touched her and made love to her slowly, as she had to me. I was quiet and enjoyable. Slowly we left bed to get breakfast. We dressed without speaking much except about what to make to eat. We both went swimming afterwards. Then we went into town for supplies. We shopped and looked around a little. By the time we had lunch and came back, it was two. Jack was there when we got back. He was alone. "Where's the old ball and chain?" I asked sarcastically. He took it in good humor. "Buying film. What are you guys up to?" he asked plainly. "Not much, I'm afraid," I said, trying to gauge whether Gwen expected me to go on another long hike and leave them alone together. She signaled me no. "How about you?" I asked. "Nothin'," he replied, and cast about as if looking for something to do. Gwen motioned me into the kitchen area to help put away the groceries. I followed her, and she whispered to me. "Do you think we should do it with him?" she asked. "Don't you mean do I want to do it with him?" I replied. Gwen looked at me. "So why not do it and get it over with. Then you'll have some experience," she said. I thought about it. "It's worth it," she added. "Really?" I asked her. She thought about it. "Well, maybe not with him, but he's not bad for a start," she giggled. I hit her. "I'll get out of here," she said.I was going to stop her, but she acted too fast. "I have to go back to town. We forgot some things," she said to Jack. "Do you guys need anything?" "I don't know, Ali's does all that stuff," he said, bored. Gwen turned to me. "And I want to go to that place down the road that old man told us about, OK? You don't mind if I'm not back for a while, do you?" she asked. "No. I suppose not," I said. "But don't be out all night," I told her, meaning it. "I won't. I just wanted to see that antique shop," she said. "See you later," she waved as she went out the door. That must have set off an automatic play signal in Jack's mind. He got up immediately and walked over to where I was. "So what's your idea?" he said. "Idea for what?" I asked. "Do you want it, too?" he said brazenly. I thought to myself what a jerk he was. But I didn't say it. I just rolled with the punches. "Yeah. You ready?" I said. He looked at me as if he wasn't quite expecting me to say what I had, and shrugged his shoulders. I walked away from him towards the bed. He grabbed me two steps out and pulled me to him. His hands were like vises on my upper arms. He bent his head down to kiss my neck. I endured it. As he kissed towards my mouth I rebelled slightly. I didn't want to kiss him. He did. I shut my eyes tight. He practically lifted me off the ground. I weakened a little. His hands went to my back and they felt huge. They were huge. And rough. They scraped my back under my shirt. He undid the snap of my bra and I felt it loosen in front. His hands went to my ribs and then down and under my shorts. They caressed my naked cheeks and I began to feel his strength robbing me of power to want to stop him. Suddenly he dropped to his knees and took my shorts down with him. I was embarrassed. He began to kiss towards my pubic area and I began to lose my balance. He pulled my shorts down and pushed me backwards towards the bed. I fell onto it and he removed my shorts and panties in one motion. His tongue found me in no time as he pushed my legs apart. It was different. Too hurried. Less skilled or less knowledgeable. But it did what it was supposed to do. I became wet. Then he rose and removed his shirt. I looked at his chest and he told me with his eyes to remove my blouse and bra. I did as he removed his pants. I turned back to see him there before me and marveled at his cock. It was large. Not as large as Gwen had painted it, but enough. He moved towards me threateningly, but passed my lower regions with his organ and climbed up onto the bed, straddling me. He wanted me to eat him. I licked at him tentatively and tried to get used to it, the awkward angle of being beneath him and all. He raised himself up and that made it easier for me to get it into my mouth. As soon as it was wet enough, he began to pump it in and out of my mouth. I wasn't prepared for it, but could do nothing much about it. I was inexperienced and unsure enough not to stop what I didn't like. So I put my hands on his ass and tried to manage the pumping. All it did was make it worse. I was about to gag when he stopped suddenly and lowered himself down. He put his hands under my ass and lifted me up to give himself more room to guide his cock into my pussy. I felt him entering me and felt my own resistance to it. He pushed slowly, going in just a little. It hurt slightly. "Stop," I told him, pulling his body forward to get him to pull it out. He removed his cock and then went in further. It stung. Again. It hurt. Then it burned, but I knew it was broken. The seal was broken. I started to cry for it. He knew I was hurt but went on anyway. It burned each time he went in until I was finally opened enough. Then it was just very tight and very hot. Not much pleasurable. He rocked me back and forth on him till the pain went away and it loosened and cooled a little. Then it just felt wet and a mess. But it felt better to me. He continued and I held him and he pumped me and I let it happen. It was not long before I began to push the limit and was lost in frenzy. He banged me hard and I pushed him more, till at last I was sweating and clutching at him and he buried his cock in me so hard I shook. I couldn't think about him coming in me. That was the farthest thing from my mind. He didn't. He took his cock out of me and came on my belly. I watched it spurting in fascination. I rubbed it into my belly and he fell to the side and collapsed. I laughed at his cock waving in the air like a flagpole without a flag. "What's so funny?" he asked. I laughed harder. "What?" he said. I burst out in hysterics and throbbing pain in my lower parts. I clutched at them. Jack shook his head and got up. He left. I was still laughing and crying in mild hysterics and pain. "I can't believe you," Gwen laughed. "You had to be there," I said, laughing all over again. "It was just cute, but when he said 'What's so funny?' in the hurt tone of voice he did, it was all over for me. I couldn't help cracking up." "So what did he do?" Gwen wanted to know. "He just got up and left. Not a word. He was pissed," I said, laughing more. "Well, I guess he won't be back here," Gwen said. "Who cares?" I said. "I know," Gwen said. "But now I definitely want to find somebody and do it." "I know what you mean. With the right guy it would definitely be nice. But he'd have to do it slow and easy and know what the heck he was doing. Jack didn't know much of anything about female anatomy," I laughed. "That's for sure," Gwen added. There was a lapse in conversation. "Is there somebody else around here?" Gwen asked. "You mean for this kind of thing. Not really. At least not real close. I suppose if you went into town...," I told her. "Yeah. I suppose," she agreed. I left my scope and sat on the swing by her. I put my arm around her. She turned to me and smiled. "Well at least we have each other," she said, looking at me. "Mmm hmm," I said. We kissed.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/7409.txt

tikij@hotmail.com

My Life - In a Nutshell

"So how do your parents like Vegas?" "Okay, I guess. They're still getting used to the heat." "Now, they moved out there your sophomore year, right?" "Yeah." "You visit them often?" "Oh yeah. Play way too much blackjack." "Right on." "We should meet there sometime. We'll have a place to stay." "Yeah. I'll see if I can get some time off. When's a good time to come?" "Probably like in September or October. It cools off a bit by then, and all the tourists are gone." "Cool." The waitress walked up and placed a plate in front of each of us. "Ketchup?" she asked. "No thanks," I responded. "I'll take some," said Devon. I bit into the massive burger, sauce dribbling down my chin. I wiped it out of the hairs of my goatee. "You're styling with that goatee," said Devon, pointing with a pickle. "Serena doesn't like the facial hair," I said. "Now's my only chance." Devon chuckled. "You're whipped, dude." "Yeah... I need to call her..." Devon glanced over his shoulder. "Hey, check it out. There's a phone booth out there. Do all these greasy diners have phone booths in the parking lot like that?" He once again pointed with his now half-eaten pickle. I snickered. The waitress looked in our direction. "I think she just gave you the stink-eye, Dev. You shouldn't use such derogatory language when referring to greasy diners." "Shit..." I took another bite. "Looks like a good storm building up," said Devon, pointing with the pickle once again. It dripped on the floor. "Dude. Quit using the pickle as a pointer." "What? You got a problem with my pickle?" Devon said, a little too loud. The waitress looked towards us again. "Oh, you really got it this time," I said, chuckling. "Excuse me?" Devon leaned slightly over the counter. "Could I get another pickle, please?" The waitress came over with a jar, opened it, and pulled one out. "Thank you," said Devon with a fake smile. Taking the pickle, Devon began to gesture out the window of the diner and babble about cold fronts. I looked down and grabbed a french fry. "Oh shit!" Devon suddenly jumped from his stool. "What?!" "A radar truck and a convoy of minivans are going by!" He said, peering out the front window. Looking over my shoulder, I saw the last of a number of matching black Plymouth minivans pass in front of the diner. "Let's go," I said, tossing a twenty on the counter. Devon was already halfway out the door as I picked up a couple of more fries and got up from my stool. "Keep the change," I yelled to the waitress behind the counter as I raced out the door. "Where are you?" I asked. "Somewhere in northern Oklahoma. We're joining up with a group of researchers from K-State and the National Weather Service." "K-State?" "Kansas State University." "Oh. So, they're letting you follow them around?" "Yeah, we saw them pass by a place we were eating at, and we caught up with them. They've got all kinds of radar and stuff. Right now, we're headed north towards a pretty good looking storm." "Well, be careful, Cal." "Okay, I'll call you tonight." "Alright. Love you." "Love you too." I hung up the phone, then walked back into the bedroom. Flopping on the bed, I leaned over and grabbed the book I had been reading. I opened the door to the phone booth and jogged across the truck stop parking lot. A cold wind was blowing in from the north, where a massive storm was forming. "The temperature's dropped about 15 degrees," said one of the K-State guys, consulting a laptop computer. "What's the windspeed?" asked Devon. "About 40 miles per hour." "We ready?" I asked. "Yep. Let's roll," said Devon. We walked over to the Bronco. Devon climbed over the tailgate. "I'm gonna set up the tripod now," he said. "Good idea. I'll plug in the computer." After setting up the tripod and retrieving the camcorder from the large metal truck-bed box, Devon wriggled his way back into the cab. "I'm glad you convinced me about this Bronco idea," he said, getting in the passenger seat. "I never realized just how convenient this would be." "I just wasn't expecting to spend that much for the damn thing," I said, motioning to the fiberglass door assembly that separated the cab of the Bronco from where the back seat used to reside. "Hundred bucks for that, then another hundred for the box." "Well, you can't exactly leave all of our stuff back there to get hailed on..." Another flash of lightning illuminated the room. A crash of thunder followed several seconds later. The light patter of the rain on the window had turned into a full-fledged roar. I peeked through the slats of the window blind. The tree in front of the building was lit up by another lightning bolt. I settled back into the bed and wished Cal was here to keep me warm. The phone rang. I picked it up after the second ring. "Hello?" "Hey kiddo." "Hi," I said, with a note of relief in my voice. "You're missing out on quite a storm here, bucko. I need someone to protect me." "You don't even know." "About what?" "About storms," Cal continued. I noticed he was slightly out of breath. "What does that mean? Did you guys see a tornado today?" I asked, getting excited. "Holy shit. I've got to sit down." "Okay..." "I saw the most amazing thing today. I mean, I've heard about it and seen it on TV and stuff, but I never thought I'd see it in person." "What?" I said, impatiently. "Hold on. Damn. We just got here. I'm at a truck stop south of Topeka. We just got out of the storm like 15 minutes ago. The Bronco's all trashed. We got some serious hail damage. I'm glad I didn't buy anything expensive." "Does it still run?" "Oh yeah, it's only dents and stuff, but anyway. They were the size of baseballs." "You're kidding." "No. We got some great pictures with the video camera. I hope my film will come out, though. It was kind of dark when it hit." "When did this happen?" "About 6:00. We met up with the K-State people at about 1:30, and followed them north into this massive storm. We didn't see much, and it looked like we weren't going to see anything, so we stopped somewhere to get something to eat around 5:30. Anyway, there's about twelve of us, and we're all in this Denny's by the freeway when one of the guys literally jumps up out of his seat and points." "Yeah..." "Well, we all look, and there's a whole shitload of cars parked under the freeway overpass. It was starting to hail. So Dev and I headed out to the Bronco to grab the videocamera and stuff, and all the K-State guys were freaking out about the radar unit. They jumped into the radar truck and moved it under a gas station canopy, and we all gathered under it. I'm taking pictures and Dev's using the videocamera when someone asks, 'what's that sound?' We all got quiet, then the wind shifted and we could hear it clearly." "What was it?" "A tornado siren. This woman starts screaming at us from the Denny's to come inside. The K-State guys want to start up the radar, but no one knows where the damn thing is, so we all took off across the parking lot. About this time, the hail really started to come down. I've got bruises all up and down my back from the stuff. By the time we got to the front door at Denny's, they're about the size of golf balls, and they're starting to shred the gas station canopy." "Oh my god." "We're hanging out under the front porch of the Denny's and this woman keeps screaming at us to come into their shelter, but we were all looking for the tornado." "Jesus, Cal, you're gonna get killed."All the lights went out, and it was pitch black. The siren went off, but we weren't sure if it was because the power was out, or what, so we decided to go inside. They crammed everybody into a meat locker, and we hung out in the dark in there for about 15 minutes before we decided to go check things out. Anyway, we went back outside, and there was blue sky off to the west, and the sun had started to come out, but the thing was, the ground was covered by hail – it looked like it had snowed – and there were some the size of baseballs." "Wow. Did the radar truck survive?" "Yeah. The canopy kept most of it away, but the trim on it got all torn off. All the cars in the lot were smashed up. Some people's windows were smashed, but ours survived." "That's good." "I think it's because the windshield is almost straight up and down. That thing has the aerodynamics of a barn. So anyway, we took a bunch of pictures, and then took off after the storm." "Why? Do you have a death wish or something?" "No. I just want to see a tornado." "Crazy..." "Anyway, we were driving east, and we could see some trees down in the distance. It was way across this field. Finally, we found a road that took us toward the trees, and we came up to this part of the road that was completely stripped of pavement." "So? Road construction?" "No. That's where the tornado went through." "Really?" "Yeah. There was a path through the field, and it took a bunch of trees, passed over the road, and went down a hill through some more fields." "It didn't get any houses or anything?" "We didn't see any. We drove around and took some pictures, I think we got most of the path, and we didn't see any other damage." "Wow." "Yeah, so that's what I did today. Anything exciting happen back home?" "Dude! That one's gone!" "Man, it's coming right at us!" I stood up and glanced around. Most of the bleacher bums were headed our way. I climbed up onto my seat and jumped. "Shit..." I fell over backwards as the ball came within mere inches of my outstretched fingers. Two rows back, a burly man wearing a Chiefs t-shirt caught me. "Almost," he said. I looked to my left to see the proud owner of a Ken Griffey-delivered home run ball. He was about six. "Nice catch," I said, rubbing his head, "to both of you," I turned to the man in the Chiefs shirt. "Not a problem." "Damn," I said, returning to my seat. "Almost had it." Taking a sip of his beer, Devon nodded his head. The crowd settled back in, the home team now down by six. "I think we're a jinx," he said. I flopped down on the couch. "Damn. I need some sleep." "I feel ya, man. I could sleep for a week," said Devon. He reached for the remote and turned on the TV. "So, how do you like the place?" he asked, waving the remote like a pointer. "Nice. I especially like the entertainment center," I said, referring to the massive wall unit that contained a 32-inch television and a myriad of stereo equipment. The phone rang. Devon answered. "Hello?" "Just got back this morning. We went and watched a Royals game. Not tonight. We're beat. Tomorrow? Let me ask." "You want to go to a party tomorrow?" he asked. "Who is it?" "Jennifer." "Jennifer Grant?" Devon nodded. "Sure," I said enthusiastically. Jennifer Grant was the hottest girl that had ever shown any interest in me. Unfortunately, I left for college before anything could happen. "Okay, we'll be there," Devon said into the phone. "Later." "Jennifer Grant. Excellent," I said, doing my best Montgomery Burns. Devon grinned. "Anything happen between you two?" "No. I wish." "I think I would have skipped college for her. Go to Longview or something." "Yeah, well you think with the wrong part of your anatomy." "So? She's hot." "Yeah..." I sighed. "Cal!" Jennifer screamed, running at me. "It's been so long!" She crashed into me, giving me a bear hug. "How the hell are you?" "Good. You?" "I'm great. Why don't you ever call or anything? A postcard, even? It's been like three years." "Sorry. I've been busy," I said, almost as a question. "Bullshit – busy. I went to college, too. You had time." "You're right. I don't know... no good excuses come to mind." "Whatever happened with us?" "There was an 'us'?" "No, but there should have been. You're so damn dense. Anyway. Look at you! You've put on some pounds," she said, pinching my side. "Quality pounds, too. You used to be so skinny. Have you gotten taller, too?" "No. Don't think so at least. Still 5 foot 12 and a half," I said with a smile. "I did gain about 30 pounds since I last saw you, though." "Damn. You eat all day, or what?" "No, I'm on a liquid diet," I said, raising my beer bottle. "Ahh... So what are you up to now? 225?" "Please. About 190. How about you?" I asked, poking her stomach. She lifted her t-shirt to reveal a flat, tanned stomach. "115. Haven't gained a pound since you left." "What, have you been keeping track until you saw me again?" "I have to stay looking good for you, hot stuff." Devon came up, a short brunette in tow. "You remember Mia, don't you?" I snapped my fingers, trying to remember. Finally, I had to admit I couldn't place her. "You do look familiar, though," extending my hand to her. "Did you work at Hy-Vee?" I asked, referring to the local grocery store. "Yeah, in the video department," she said, shaking my hand. "That's it," I said as an image popped into my head. "Patriot Games." "Yeah," Mia said, a knowing smile spreading across her face. "Are we missing something here?" Devon asked. Jennifer raised her eyebrows. "I went in one night to rent a movie. I ended up getting Patriot Games. When I got home and popped the tape in, I realized that there had been some kind of mistake." "Yeah..." prodded Jennifer. "He calls me up," said Mia, continuing for me. "I just rented Patriot Games from you guys, he says. Then there's this silence for a few seconds." "I had left the tape playing while I called the store, and when I turned around, the 'action' had started," I continued. "I hear this kind of gasp or something, then he says, 'oh my god.' He was kind of freaking me out by then, so I asked him what was up." "She was talking to me for a minute, but I didn't even notice. I was too busy watching the tape." "Finally, after like 30 seconds of silence, he says, 'you've rented me a porno.'" Devon snickered. Jennifer was getting impatient. "Well?" "I said, 'you got Patriot Games, right?' He said, yeah. I told him I was planning on taking a copy home after I got off work, so I could bring it over or something." "Bold move on your part. You didn't even know him," said Devon. "I did, kind of. He used to rent quite often. I noticed we had the same taste in movies, and he's a cute guy. Besides, I'd seen him at school and stuff, so he wasn't like a complete stranger. Anyway, he's like, no don't bother, that's too much trouble." "She says, 'no I've got nothing else to do.' I was too out of it to notice she was trying to hit on me or something," I said, laughing. "I told him I would be over in twenty minutes. He didn't argue, so I looked up his address on the computer and left early." "She shows up on my doorstep five minutes later." "It wasn't *that* fast." "Oh, *it was*. Anyway, she's standing there, still wearing her blue Hy-Vee apron and everything, and she says, 'I forgot Patriot Games.'" "I was in a hurry." "I was disappointed." "Come in," I said. Thank god my parents aren't home, I thought. I don't need the third degree about this strange girl I was inviting in. I chuckled to myself. I'm not sure if I could answer them. She came in, and we stood in uncomfortable silence for a moment in the entryway. "We haven't been formally introduced," I said, breaking the quiet. "I'm Cal." "Mia." "Yeah. You have the nametag..." "You're on the computer," she said. *Idiot*, I thought to myself. "Would you like to watch a movie?" I asked. She stood motionless for a moment with a strange look on her face. She didn't respond. "Oh. Not the one you rented me," I said with a nervous smile. "Oh. Okay," said Mia, quietly. "We've got a bunch of older stuff," I said, leading her into the living room. "I think I'd better go." "Why," I said a little too eagerly. "No one's home, we could stay up all night." She smiled. *Damnit. Now she's going to think I want to rape her or something. Idiot!* I berated myself for my lack of experience with women. "Okay. It's Saturday night. What else do I have to do? You want me to go get something to eat? I could go get a movie – a new release – I get them free." "See if there's anything you like in here, and let me know. I've got plenty to eat here," I said as I walked into the kitchen. "Dr. Pepper?" I asked, holding up a two-liter. "Sure. Oh my god, you have a great collection. Are these yours?" "Some of them. They're mostly my parents' though." "What's 'Ocean's Eleven'?" "Don't know. It's one of my parents'. Never seen it. I think it has Frank Sinatra in it, though." "Let's watch that, it sounds interesting," said Mia, reading the box, "if it sucks, we can always watch something else." "Okay," I said, returning with a bag of chips and two glasses of Dr. Pepper. "You like ranch dip?" "Sure." I popped the movie into the VCR, then went to the kitchen, where I got the dip out of the fridge. "Are you at all hungry? I could make something." "No, that's okay, I had pizza on my break. That was only a couple of hours ago," she said, consulting her watch. We flopped down on opposite ends of the couch and fell into silence as the movie started. I leaned forward to dip a chip, bumping into Mia in the process. "Go ahead," I said, "ladies first."Why thank you. What a gentleman," she said with a grin. We leaned back into the couch, a little closer this time. We repeated this until eventually, her head was on my shoulder. The closing credits began to roll. She sighed. "I hope my parents went to bed without waiting up," she said. "Geez. Do you want to call them or something?" "No, that's okay. They probably won't miss me. I'm sure they went to bed. They always do when I work the late shift." "It's 12:30. Would you like to watch something else, or do you have to go?" "Are you trying to get rid of me?" Mia asked, elbowing me in the ribs. "No. Just asking," I said, rubbing my side. "Let's watch something else," she said, getting up, "I'll pick." I sat patiently on the couch while she crouched in front of the movie rack. "Can I look through your wallet?" I asked, noticing a fat leather wallet on the coffee table. "Yeah, just as long as you don't look at my driver's license picture." That was an automatic invitation. "You shouldn't have said anything," I said, pulling her license out of its plastic sleeve. "Cal," she said, sounding like my mother. I held up the license to the light coming off the TV. Jennifer Mia Collins. "You go by your middle name?" "Yeah. There are so many Jennifers." I nodded my head. Height: 5' 4". "Don't look at my weight. That was three months ago. I've lost some." Date of Birth: 1/24/77 "You're only 16?" I asked. "Yeah. Should I take that as a compliment?" "Um, yeah." "How old are you?" "Eighteen." "Old fogey." "Hey. I'm graduating this year, at least." "Lucky you. Going to college?" "Yeah." "Where?" "Somewhere west." "What, don't you like Missouri?" she asked sarcastically. "Uh..." She put the movie in. I put her license back in her wallet and reached for the remote. "What are we watching?" "Patriot Games," she said with a smirk as she leaned into me on the couch. The movie stopped where I had stopped it. Three rather muscular, well-hung men were frantically trying to stuff as many of one woman's holes as possible. Mia gasped. "Wow. I had no idea." "Yeah," I breathed. "This is my first porno," she said. "Mine, too." We watched in stunned silence for the next ten minutes as a variety of men gang-banged the lone woman. At that point, the picture disappeared into a field of snow. I fast forwarded through several minutes until the picture returned. "Whew," said Mia. Just as she spoke, the picture became fuzzy once again, although this time, the picture was still slightly visible. "Damn. Now we know why they returned this instead of Patriot Games," I said, "they've got a new movie for free, and got rid of an old crappy one." "Patriot Games doesn't have hardcore sex in it, though." "True," I said with a chuckle. I yawned, stretching my hands over my head. Mia pulled one arm down over her shoulders. She snuggled in closer to my body. "You're so nice and warm." I hugged her. The tape stopped and began rewinding. The whirr of the VCR was enough to wake me. "Mia," I said, shaking her slightly. "Wha... what time is it?" "2:20." "Shit. I've got to go." "Stay." "What?" "Stay here with me. My parents won't be home till tomorrow afternoon." "Where are they?" "It's their anniversary, they got a room and buffet package at one of the hotels downtown." "Oh. Okay. My parents go to church tomorrow at 9:00, so make sure you wake me in time to get home while they're gone." "Okay," I said. "Mia? Wake up. Let's go up to my room. Just in case my parents get home early or something." "Alright," she said, her willpower sapped by sleep deprivation. We climbed the stairs to my room and walked in. "Cool room." "Thanks." "Did this used to be an attic or something?" Mia asked, looking at the low, sloping ceilings. "No, it's just the space above the garage. My dad and I finished it." "Cool. Do you have anything I can wear? I don't want to wrinkle my clothes." "Sure." I lead her to my dresser and opened a couple of drawers. "Take your pick. There's sweats and shorts in there and t-shirts in this one. The bathroom's down the hall and to the left." I walked to the window and closed the blind. Mia grabbed something out of the drawer and padded quietly down the hall. Quickly, I stripped off my jeans and shirt and grabbed an old pair of sweats and a Blades t-shirt. The toilet flushed and Mia walked back into the room. She was wearing only a white t-shirt. Only the fact that it was one of my shirts helped it cover the important parts. She climbed into the far side of my bed without saying a word. I walked over to the wall and flipped off the light switch. "Hurry up," she mumbled from the darkness, "I need you to keep me warm." I climbed in and wrapped my arm around her stomach. She squeezed my hand. "Thanks for having me over."

Chapters 5&6 (No sex)

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11791.txt

mama was always on her knees

Bound for Glory

"Then deliver. Wait a second while I sit her up." John cupped the mouthpiece and quietly said, "Don't act like you did before. Make her fight to get you to accept this. Think about it, Catherine. If you were really the girl she thinks you are, how would you really act? Here goes." "Annabelle, here she is." "Mother, what's going on?" "Catherine, John just gave me dreadful news about his full intentions. You will not be released anytime soon, maybe not for years, possibly decades if ever. He plans to return you to me when you can't earn money with your body, but without that critical release." "I don't understand, Mother. What are you saying?" "I am saying that after you deliver the baby, I will have to return you to him. I have no choice, Catherine. I swore an oath to God that I would humor this man until he released you." "Mother, no, you can't do that! You don't know what this is like--the beating, the rapes, letting men use my body." "I do know, Catherine, but what other choice is there?" "I won't do it. I'll run away." "Catherine, bite your tongue. Don't you ever say that in front of him again. Do you want to stay tied up and gagged for years, bound to a bed? He can do that, and I would be forced to help bind you. It would tear my heart out to have to drag you back and tie you, naked to a rapist's bed, but that's what the threat of running away might force upon me. That would be as good as driving a dagger in my heart. Is that what you want? Do you want to punish me for letting you go with him?" "No, Mother, of course not. I just can't believe you would do that to me." "You can't believe I, your mother, would place your immortal soul over your mortal body? You can't believe that I, your mother, would do anything to jeopardize her own immortal soul?" "Oh, Mother, I'm so frightened. I want to come home." "You will, many times." "Yes, but I will be sent back to him as a sex slave to bear more bastards for him." "Yes, Catherine, accept it. I told you before, you are a sex slave. It doesn't matter what you want, at least, not to your master. As long as you have a master, I have one, too. Do you think I am enjoying this? Is that what you think, that I like saying filthy words, that I like hearing about the sex he is having with my only child, my baby girl? Am I some kind of monster in your eyes, just because I will do anything at all to save your soul?" "No, Mother, I know you're motives are righteous and pure. I know you are only doing what you think is best. I know that all you ever cared about was my fucking soul." "Catherine, how dare you talk to me like that?" "Like what, Mother, like a whore--a sex slave. That's how they talk, I'm sure. That's what I am. You said so yourself." "And I meant every word. And I will not apologize for thinking only of your immortal soul. I take that as the highest compliment a daughter can give to her mother. It is all I care about, and that is as it should be. Your body is temporal; your soul is immortal. Remember what I taught you." "I'm sorry, Mother. You are right. I'm just finding this so hard to accept. Things are so different now. Everything is upside-down. Nothing makes any sense." "I know, Catherine, but it all makes perfect sense to me. As your spiritual guide, you must trust me, do as I say, and never, ever question anything I tell you. Is that clear?" "Yes, Mother." "As for your language, it is befitting a whore and sex slave, so I won't ever correct that again. That was a knee-jerk reaction. I will adjust. In fact, you should use only those vile and filthy terms, even when talking to me. A whore is as a whore does and says. Become a whore in body, mind, and spirit, and things will go easier. Time will pass faster. I will treat you like a whore for that reason--to help you adjust. You understand, don't you?" "Yes, I understand." "Now, whore, I want you to suck the reverend's cock while we talk. Do that thing with your throat where you lick his balls while you're sucking. Do it like the filthy whore you've become." Catherine slipped into her childish, submissive tone and said, "All right, Mommy. I'll deep suck the preacher's cock and suck the sperm from his balls while I lick them. Was that whorish enough?" "That was good." "Oh, and you won't have to do the tying after I deliver the bastard and you return me. I will return willingly to serve out my time, every time. I don't want to make things any harder on you than they already are. I feel guilty enough about that as it is. If anything, I want to make amends for the trouble I've caused you." "Good, much better. You can do that by being the best whore and sex slave any pervert ever had. That will take pressure off me to make you that way. Now, get that cock in your mouth and start sucking. Put the reverend back on." John didn't need to pretend, because Catherine was so turned on, she dove on his cock. "Oh, God damn, Annabelle. The bitch has my whole cock in her mouth, down her throat, and she's curling my toes from the fucking suction. Oh, yes, baby! Suck that cock!" "You make me wish I had a cock, and a cock sucker. Right now, I am happy I have a big clit and ten fingers. Oh, John, this is so much fun. Were you listening?" "Hell yes. You were outstanding. You talk religious shit the way Catherine sucks a child molester's cock." "My, that is a compliment. I told you I can deal with Catherine. Is she licking your big hairy balls?" "Like a mother cat licks pussy." "Wonderful. I've got you set, then. I need to hang up so that I can properly take care of my needs. I can't fuck myself and talk at the same time." "Until the sabbath, then." "Until the sabbath. It will be fun. Good bye, lover." John hung up the mouthpiece, set the phone aside, then came a copious load down Catherine's throat. She gulped, then sucked, then nursed lovingly on his cock. He lifted Catherine off his deflating member and set her on her feet. "Surprised?" "Totally. What a hypocritical slut she is. She gave me to you to torture and kill. Now, she's made me your sex slave for life for Christ's sake--literally for Christ's sake. She's sick, but I think she actually believes all of this shit." "She's not sick, but her mind has been poisoned by that born-again Christian dogma. I think she has to cling to her belief that she is saving you while throwing you to the dogs. She wants to have her fun and be saved at the same time. Who can blame her? With my help, she discovered a way." "Do you think she'll even feel any guilt for what she's doing, or thinks she's doing?" "Who cares. You're having fun with this. I'm getting a kick out of it. Your old lady is getting a kick, having fun, and having a religious experience all in one. She won't be the first to pull the plug. How did you like her confession? Did I read her right or didn't I?" "You cheated. You suckered me into a stacked wager." "I know. We'll scrap the wager, but I'd like to set up another. Don't worry, there won't be any sale to white slavers. I had no intention of following through. You're my wife, remember, and you're going to be the mother of my child." "Oh John. I love you. I wish it were true, that I was your wife." "Maybe one day, but don't get your hopes up. I'm not the marrying type, and someday, I'll tire of you. I won't tire soon, but we're not playing the Honeycuts anymore. Nobody bought it, and that fact embarrassed the hell out of me. That's why I kept a low profile. I did that for you, Catherine. I hope you enjoyed it." "Oh, I did. Playing your wife was a dream come true. You're right, though, nobody bought it." "Don't feel bad, kid. It's just your age. They'd buy it in three or four years.If I were to marry anyone, though, it would be Annabelle, your mother. Those sexy pious bitches drive me bananas. Your mother is the sexiest I've ever come across. "So you really do have a thing for her. I think that's great. I think she's sexy, too. She's also very pretty, even without makeup. Can you imagine what she'd look like all made up, wearing sexy clothes? Too bad she's stuck with my old man. I'm sure his little dick doesn't do a thing for her. After I saw what a real cock is supposed to look like, I couldn't help feeling sorry for her. So, what's the bet?" "You are going to earn your own money whether you like it or not. The money you earn fucking gets split fifty-fifty. I'm sure you'll lose it all in wagers, but I need to pay you in order to win it. Here's the bet. One-thousand of mine against one-thousand of your future earnings that your mother will divorce your father and meet us for a threesome. Furthermore, she will become a whore with you." "You're on, buster. If you can make that happen, I'll gladly earn a thousand for you." "Let's put a time limit on it, say one month from today, she has to be naked in bed with us." "She can't get a divorce that soon." "No, but she can get caught fucking the kid and have a divorce pending." "If she gets caught by father, a divorce will be pending, that's for sure. Let's go double or nothing that she will agree to marry you. I say she won't; you say she will." "It's done. Do you know the kid she has in mind for a lover?" "No, I can't imagine; but whoever he is, she sure wants him badly." John and Catherine left Pittsburg the following morning, headed for New Orleans. Along the way, they perfected their game. Catherine played the role of a runaway. John played the part of a Pittsburg preacher returning Catherine to her folks in a small parish outside New Orleans. Their game was a simple one with a flexible course. Catherine played the part of the Catherine in her fantasy story. She was brazen, outrageous, shocking, and showed her tits and pussy at every opportunity. Whenever they were alone with an intimate group, Catherine told her story. With John's help, she refined her tale to make it more believable and more exciting. He had her drop the sado-masochistic scenes and concentrate on the incest factor. He had her fucking the men and going down on the women. He also had her bring the dog in sooner, making forced sex with the dog a regular feature. Catherine's lewd behavior, filthy language, and her bawdy stories never failed to bring about an orgy-like atmosphere in train compartments. Regardless of the mix of people, and the mix changed often as they traveled the whistle stop lines, the people responded. Several of the groups broke out in full-fledged naked orgies, and those that didn't participate, watched Catherine take on all comers, male and female, but always, John. Between the two of them, they left a trail of spent dicks and wet pussies from Pittsburg to New Orleans. Catherine also turned her first trick on the train. John charged two bits for the first, because he wanted to take her from being a two-bit whore to whore stardom. Five bucks became her usual and customary charge. In 1936, in New Orleans, five dollars for pussy was stardom. After arriving in New Orleans, Catherine went to work selling pussy. The cheap hotel in New Orleans brought welcome relief. John presented Catherine as his daughter--Catherine Masterson. Those who knew John as Big John Masterson just smiled, but everyone else bought it, and they believed Catherine Masterson was a nasty little girl that put her father through hell to the delight of the staff and guests. The two planned a long stay, so they could not get too carried away with the game. The hotel was a home away from home for John. John told her, "A smart bird never shits in his nest." Catherine did not get to show her pussy very often. She had no intention of shitting in the hotel, but she got the idea. She showed her pussy in the room to a select clientele. John was not into street-corner hustling or leaving Catherine alone with a client until he had been checked out. If marks were to put on Catherine's body, he'd put them there. No one wanted to piss off Big John Masterson. Catherine earned one-hundred dollars and twenty-five cents in thirty-eight hours, ending at nine P.M. the following Sunday. They had the small bills spread out in two piles on the bed. John gathered both, but entered Catherine's fifty dollars and twenty-five cents in his ledger. He told her a whore's first trick is customarily all hers. Catherine was in a terrific mood when John placed the call to her mother, so John slapped her hard in the face, sending her sprawling onto the floor. Catherine sat up, tears flowing. "What did I do?" "Just setting the mood, Catherine. You've just been through hell--your first week as a whore. That smile on your voice had to go." Catherine smiled back through a frown. Her face hurt. They sat side by side on the bed. Catherine played with John's cock and her own cunt, eager to hear her mother's lusty voice again. Annabelle answered on the first ring, "Hello, John!" "At your service. Have you had a change of heart?" "If I did, I'd control it. Is Catherine with you?" "Yes, she's right here, sucking my cock." "Is she naked?" "She's always naked, Annabelle. When we go out, she wears only an overcoat. I never know when an opportunity to pick up a quick buck might happen, but she's always ready." "Has she made you any money, yet?" "A little over two hundred." "My goodness. What do you charge for her various services?" "Two bucks for a straight fuck, three for an ass fuck. Blow jobs are two. Two fifty if they want her to swallow cum. The rough stuff is extra." "Rough stuff?" "Yeah, you know, slapping her around, pulling her cunt hairs out, beating her, mild torture, that sort of stuff. I allow anything that won't leave a lasting mark or an internal injury. I don't want anyone fucking up my gold mine." "She earned you two hundred the hard way. You're a cruel master, John, but then I knew you would be. The poor thing must be miserable. I'll bet she wants her Mommy. Does she ever cry out for me?" "Quite a bit. Between you and Jesus, it's a toss up." "I am dying to speak with her. Don't worry, I won't console her. I'm sure you'll want to listen in. I'll make this good for you." Catherine was bouncing up and down, then whispered, "Ask her about the boy. Ask her if she followed your orders?" "Annabelle, first, did you fuck the kid?" "Yes, John. Several times each day. Six times today, alone. I am following your orders to the letter. I am also following the spirit of your order, John. I came to the door stark naked when he delivered the milk the following morning. He was so startled. I stood in the open doorway with my arms out and my legs apart and said, 'Would you like to fuck me?' Did I do good, John? Is that how you want me to be, like a horny slut?" "You did great, Annabelle." "I am insatiable and so is he. Today was the first church service I've missed in six years. We fucked in my marital bed while the service was going on. He's seventeen and he loves to lick and suck my pussy. I adore having my pussy licked. He fucks my ass. He fucks my pussy, and he loves to fuck me in the mouth. He also jacks off in my mouth while I swallow all of his virile young sperm." "It sounds like you're having the time of your life." "Oh, I am, John, and I owe it all to you. I am living a dream, and I am still going to heaven. I sucked my first cock, but I couldn't get it to go down my throat. That's one of the things I need to talk to Catherine about. I need to take cock sucking lessons from my daughter. Isn't that marvelous?" "Here, talk to her." "Mommy?" "Catherine, how are you doing?" "Mommy, I'm dying. They are killing me. I can't go on. I want to die. They hurt me so badly, Mommy." "I know, sweetheart. They enjoy hurting you, don't they?" "Yes, they love making me scream and cry." "And I'm sure you scream and cry a great deal. You never were very brave about pain. I wish there were some way I could ease your suffering, but there isn't. I can't kiss it and make it go away, especially not if they're hurting you where I think they are. Mommy's can't kiss their little girl's cunnies, now can they? That is where they like to hurt you the most, isn't it?" "Yes, Mommy. They torture my pussy. My pussy is so sore and swollen, all cut up and bloody. They pinch my clit in pliers and twist till I scream my guts out." "That must hurt dreadfully. What else do they do to your poor little pussy?" Catherine cupped the mouthpiece and said to John, "My god, she's getting off on my torture." John said, "Then give her something to get off on." "Catherine. Speak to me." "I'm sorry, Mother. He pulled on my clit and the pain made me suck in my breath." "I'll bet your poor little clitty is sore, isn't it, baby?" "Yes. They stick needles deep into it. Sometimes, my clit looks like a pin cushion." "I'll bet they like to fuck you with those needles in your clit. Do they, Catherine? Do they fuck you with those needles in your clit?" "Yes, Mommy, and my pussy lips too. The pain makes me pass out." "I'm not surprised, but I'll bet you don't pass out right away. You feel those needles getting jammed deeper into your cunt, don't you?" "Yes, and it is awful pain, Mommy." "Do they ever burn your pussy or your tits?" "Sometimes, but they don't want blisters or ugly scars. Still, they can burn my pussy in many ways that won't make a blister. They heat up knives and spoons in hot water. They melt wax on my pussy. They put burning cigars very close until the surface begins to sear." "What about your tits, Catherine? What do they do to your tits?" "Terrible things."What exactly?" "They pull my nipples with pliers, stick long needles through my titty flesh; they whip them, smash them in big clamps, and they put their cigars out on them." "What do your tits look like now, Catherine?" "They look awful, all cut up and swollen with big blisters from the cigars. My nipples look like dried minced meat. It's awful what they do to me, and the reverend is the worst." "What does he like to do, Catherine?" "He likes to put strong clamps with teeth on my clit and pussy lips, then lead me around on a string tied to the one on my clit. I'm wearing one right now, and...Ahhhhhhh! Oh, Jesus! Please, don't yank. Please!" Annabelle said, "He pulled the string, didn't he?" Catherine was crying from another slap, and said, "Yes! I want to die, Mommy. Tell Jesus to take me." "Catherine, you calm down! Stop acting like a baby. Jesus will take you when he's good and ready. Do not, I repeat, do not ever think about taking your own life. Suicide is a straight ticket to Hell. If you think you are suffering now, take your life. You'll see you had it easy. Catherine, be brave. Endure. You must. Suffering is the path to salvation, and you should welcome the pain. Don't expect any sympathy from me. If you ask me, the reverend is being too easy on you. A whore's life should be one of suffering and torture." "Mother, how can you say that after what I've told you?" "I can say that because that's how I feel. Whores should suffer on Earth and burn in Hell. The fact that you are my daughter makes no difference. Right now, you are a whore. I want you to suffer, and if you should die a whore, I hope you burn in Hell. You must earn your freedom in order to earn forgiveness and salvation. If you fail, it's your own fault. I am doing all I can to win your ultimate freedom and salvation; but in the meantime, while you are a whore, you will get no sympathy from me. Now that you know where I stand on the subject, maybe you'll stop your pathetic whimpering and trying to play on my sympathies. Put the reverend on." "John here." "Oh, John, that was exciting, but I don't want Catherine to hear what I have to say next. Maybe you should put her in another room so we can talk openly." "All right. Hang on." John cupped the mouthpiece and told Catherine, "Your mother is one sick bitch." "No shit. How could my mother get off on my torture? She loves me. I know she does. Dig, John. Find out what she's getting off on and why?" "I am just as curious as you are. Just sit still and be very quiet. Okay, here we go." John spoke into the phone. "Annabelle, I'm back. I've got her clamp string tied to the bathroom door knob. She's in the bathroom, up on her tiptoes in deep agony." "You're so cruel. You might rip her cunt out. What a picture? I just pictured Catherine lying on the floor in a huge pool of blood with her pussy hanging on the door knob, a little bag of bloody guts with skin and a tuft of hair at the top." "Are those the kind of scenes you imagined after handing her over to me?" "Yes, and those scenes still turn me on. I love hearing her tell me how you tortured her cunt and tits, how she suffered, how she wants to die rather than suffer more. When you jerked her string, that turned me on as well. Hearing her scream, beg, and cry turns me on. I'd like to share the fantasy I had driving home from the train station. I have some ideas for tortures that you might like to try on her. I like tit and cunt torture, the really bloody stuff, but I know you can't do too much of that and still turn a profit. I thought of some great ones, some that will still leave her in working order. We have to mine that gold, don't we." "I can't wait to hear them, Annabelle, but first, I'm curious, I thought you loved Catherine. What's going on?" "I do love her. I love her and I miss her terribly. This is all very strange and new to me. Before meeting you, I never entertained such thoughts. It's the devil at work on my mind, but I am protected thanks to you. This is great being able to indulge these thoughts without guilt and without sin. I suffered greatly before we had our talk. I thought it was me thinking those awful things and taking pleasure in them. When you told me you were a disciple of Satan, that explained everything." "The best of both worlds, huh?" "Yes, the very best of both. I have even better fantasies now. My favorite is where you keep Catherine for years, then when she's all worn out and useless, when it is time to release her as to our agreement, you slowly kill her while you have me on the phone, telling me every gory detail. You skin her alive and cut parts off her body, minor parts, like her clit, nipples, fingers, toes, eyelids, ears, lips, nose, and all the while, she's screaming, 'Mommy, he's killing me.' I can cum just thinking about it." "And what would be your response if I did actually do that?" "I'd be horrified, of course; but I am prepared for that reality. In the fantasy, I work with you, prying out details, suggesting what to cut off next. Basically, you are just doing what I ask you to do. In reality, I don't know if I could actually do that. We'll have to wait and see, won't we? Don't tell me you will kill her, because then you'll strip me of my incentive to humor you to win her release. Surprise me." "I don't understand why you'd want her dead. You can't save her soul if she dies in my custody." "No, but I tried. I did the best I could, right up to her last breath." "What do you think you'd say to me after I told you she stopped breathing." "What could I say? Talking further with you would be a sin. I'd hang up." "The show's over; the devil wins another soul. Is that it?" "That's life. It happens all the time. Heaven isn't crowded. Only the most righteous ever make it. Catherine never had that spark, that kinship with the holy spirit as I do. I knew the devil would get her sooner or later. I've been braced for that all along. I figure if she's going to go to Hell, she may as well start her suffering now. A few years added to eternity is nothing. Those of us who are saved enjoy the suffering of the damned. It is one of the few earthly pleasures we have."

Part five of six

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/8201.txt

Phloighd

Mystery Flasher

"Hi," she said. I looked up. She was leaning onto the information desk at the record and book store where I worked, and she smiled the perfect smile that beautiful women do so well. Though it was late and I was a bit tired, I immediately slipped into "helpful employee" mode (trying not to enter "helpful employee staring at gorgeous babe" mode, at least not yet). Fumbling a smile, I stood up from where I'd been hunting for a pen under the table, and tried to look helpful. "What's your name?" she asked in a bright voice. Not a question I'd gotten before, and it threw me a bit. "Jack," I answered after a second. "What can I do for you?" She looked down. "Oh, nothing," she said, flashing her eyes back at me momentarily, before pushing back off the desk, turning to look at the bestseller display. "What's popular this week?" You, I'm sure, are popular with everybody, I thought. I let my gaze wander over her slim figure. I turn into a real pervert at work. The other guys I work with can get pretty raunchy, but I had only recently become a real woman watcher, and this job had let me do that quite a bit. Once I helped a girl whom I discovered wore no underwear; my coworkers and I had fallen over each other waiting for her to bend over the racks again. This girl, however, was a true beauty. I'm a sucker for a pretty face, and hers had stunned me into near speechlessness: full red lips, deep green eyes and short dark red hair. Now my gaze traveled over her figure, slim at the waist flowing smoothly into her hips, with a high, perfect ass -- "Well?" she said, turning slightly to look at me. I almost jumped as my eyes jerked from her cheeks to her eyes, which drew me in as she smiled and walked back to the desk. She leaned forward. "Were you looking at me?" she asked in a low voice. I had a great view of her breasts but I dared not look. Think, think. "Uh, yeah, I think you had something on your back. Here, turn around." She grinned and turned, and I brushed some imaginary fluff from her lower back. "Some lint, or something. There, it's gone. Let's see, what's popular... Spice Girls, of course, and James Taylor, Celine Dion --" "Those are crap," she offered. "All that's good now is fuck tunes." "Well, yeah," I stammered, "there's lots of good R&B stuff out now, like Maxwell and D'Angelo --" "That's what I like, stuff like that." She looked around. "Are you all by yourself back here?" I shrugged. "Pretty much. We're short-staffed, and only have a few people to watch this big place. Everybody else is working in books." "Hmmmmmm." She turned back to look at the displays. It could have been my imagination, but she seemed to stand so I would have a great view of her incredible body. The bra she wore was slightly too small, causing her breasts to bulge slightly in the blue t-shirt. The plaid skirt lifted and fell as she moved, short enough to show off her tanned legs. I was sure I was making a puddle of drool on the desk as I stood gazing at her. Maybe old enough to be a college freshman, maybe not. Did it matter? On the silk sheets in the bed of my heart, age didn't (and doesn't) matter much to me, and the possibility of anything happening was pretty slim. My stupor was interrupted again as she turned back to me and strode back to the desk. She perched in the same position as before, giving me a teasing glimpse. "You were looking at me the other night, too, when I was here with my friends," she said in a conspiratorial whisper. Then I remembered seeing her, dressed in a similarly stunning green cotton sundress, with some other gorgeous young lasses. My buddy Rob had moaned at his inability to run into such beauties anywhere but work as I'd covertly gawked. Not as covertly as I'd thought, obviously. "Weren't you?" She was staring at me mischievously. "Uhm..." She narrowed her eyes and smiled ever so slightly. "Guys stare, it's what guys do when they see something they like, right? Believe me, I know..." She was looking me straight in the eye, and I felt like a bug on a windshield. But I bit the bullet; what the hell. "Yes, I was looking. You are..." I groped for a word as her smile widened. "...very pretty." Her eyes widened. "Pretty? Well, thank you, Jack. You're not too bad yourself." She turned again and bent over at the waist, reaching for something on the ground. My gaze was traveling up her legs when I caught her looking at me and grinning. "Yes, you're very pretty." I was totally losing my grip, and I started babbling. "Yeah, I remember you and your friends... Me and my coworker were looking at all of you, but I was mostly looking at you." She straightened and resumed her perch. "Uh huh. Don't you think it's, like, wrong to look at women that way? We're not objects, you know." Her smile was so fetching, a beauty to behold. Some women turn and hide their grins, and some are more bold, but she took the cake. Her smile was a tiger trap I would have gladly put my head into. I frowned. "True, true. But sometimes you ladies seem to want us to look, right? Like you said, you know when guys stare at you. Obviously you like it." "Uh huh. I do like it. I like it a lot." She squirmed a bit, rubbing her legs together. "Sometimes I think I like it too much..." Mimicking her pose on the desk, I bent forward and matched her conspiratorial tone. "What do you mean?" "Well..." She bit her lip. "Sometimes when I get guys to look at me, I get really turned on..." She paused. I didn't say a word. "Sometimes I can't wait to touch myself. I mean, I can't wait until I get home... Sometimes I find a place where I can get away with it, and go ahead and do it." "...Like where?" I prodded. "Well, like the other night when my girlfriends and I were here... This older guy was near me in a row of books, and he was holding this book like he was reading it, but really he was looking at me... I was squatting down to look at the lowest shelf, and he was looking down my dress at my tits." My erection, noticeably pushing against the front of my pants, pulsed at her words. I bent over further, hoping to disguise the bulge, but she couldn't see from where she was and continued. "So, he's doing this pathetic job of pretending to read, I mean really staring, and I glance over and see his dick get hard. I mean, he was really showing. So I stood up and made to go by him, and I 'accidentally' brushed my hand against his crotch. I looked up at him really sweetly and said I was so sorry, and he practically bolted. I mean, I got this old fart all hot and bothered --" She squirmed again. "--and that got *me* hot and bothered." She stood up and moved away from the desk a bit. "All he wanted, right then, was to lift my dress...or this skirt..." She paused as she touched the hem of her skirt. My eyes were glued to her fingers as she lifted it slightly. "...rip off my panties..." I could see the barest hint of white panties. "...and fuck the shit out of me." I bit my lip. My dick was a steel rod, poking painfully into the front of the desk. My brain wasn't taking any calls, and my eyes were glued to the gorgeous woman exposing herself. Suddenly she dropped the skirt and grinned. "I'll be right back," she blurted. She turned and walked quickly towards the restrooms. Realizing my mouth was open, I closed it and shook myself. What the hell was going on here? Surely this couldn't be legit. Was this some bizarre trick by management to get me fired? Was this some weird setup by my roommate to get a laugh? Thinking fast, I dialed my buddy Jeff, stationed at the other information desk across the store. When he answered I spoke fast. "Did you see that gorgeous redhead in the blue shirt and plaid skirt?" "No, I didn't... Where is she?" Wait a minute, my brain screamed. You want to share this with someone else? What are you, an idiot? "She just left, I think. Man, you really missed it... She was truly butterscotch." "Butterscotch" was our term for a seriously hot woman. "Aw, too bad.I have a customer, I have to go. But don't forget to make a closing announcement in a couple of minutes. Crap, I thought, as I glanced at a clock and realized the time. The store would be closing in twenty minutes. "No problem," I said, and hung up. Fortunately, I'd finished most of the closing procedures and had little to do before making the closing calls. It was a few minutes early, but I went ahead and made the 15-minute announcement. Halfway through, she reappeared, walking towards me and smiling. As I hung up, she leaned forward on the desk again. "You have a beautiful voice," she said, biting her finger. I leaned forward again, and my nose caught the unmistakable scent of a woman's sex. I tried to suppress a grin and failed. She just smiled and sucked on her index finger. "You really like being looked at, huh? It turns you on that much?" I asked quietly. "Yeah, it does. Especially when cute guys are staring... The kind I like staring at myself." The full-bore force of her look hit me like a baseball bat. "Aw, give me a break... I'm not all --" "Shhhh." She brought her finger to my lips. It was all I could do not to close my eyes and suck her finger into my mouth. It reeked of her juices, and smelled divine. "Don't get uptight about it, just accept it for what it is. There's lots of cute guys around, but you're interesting. And cute plus interesting, to me, equals sexy." My erection pulsed again as she stood up and twirled on one foot, her skirt flying up just a bit. "Do you think I'm sexy? Or just pretty?" I closed my mouth again. "Oh, I would definitely have to say you're sexy. Very." She grinned and twirled again. "Very, very." "Well," she said, dropping into a split on the floor, "do you like looking at sexy girls?" I nodded vigorously. She ran her hands up one leg. "Do you just like to look? Or do you like other things, too?" Her fingertips reached the hem of her skirt again, and teasingly brushed it upwards. "I like all kinds of things," I stammered. "But I like everything about you." Over the intercom I heard Jeff do the ten minute announcement in an annoyed voice. "We're closing in just a few minutes," I said. "All good things come to an end." "Do they?" she said absentmindedly, as she brushed the skirt up another bit. "Do they have to?" She looked up at me. "Nope, no way, uh-uh," I blurted. She laughed. "You don't have girls flirt with you very often, do you? Do you like it?" "I like it a lot. But I've never had anyone flirt with me like you. You're incredible." She smiled and pulled the skirt up a bit more, bringing her leg around. Now her panties were fully visible; I could make out her lips through the thin material -- was that moisture I saw there? For several seconds, maybe minutes, my eyes traced the contours of those beautiful panties. But then she stood up and leaned over to me again. "Thank you," she said. "Now, any old fart can look down my dress and get a thrill," she said, touching the front of my shirt. "But some guys I let see a little more. Some guys I let actually do something. Maybe they can touch me..." She ran a finger over the back of my hand; her touch was electric. "Maybe I can touch them... But that's maybe," she said harshly, and she pinched my hand, hard. I grimaced...but nodded. "Maybe, if you're a good boy... But we'll have to see." She looked around. "Who checks the bathrooms?" I startled, then replied, "Anybody who volunteers... I'll do it." She grinned. "Okay... I'll be the one you have to drag out, then. I'll see you in a few minutes." She leaned forward and kissed me, easing her tongue into my mouth with a luscious swirl I lost myself in, and then she was gone, strutting towards the restrooms. I quickly made a five minute announcement, then walked around the back of the store looking for stragglers. I found two, encouraged them to find what they were looking for and buy it, and gradually made the rounds, arriving at the other information desk. Jeff was hunched over a magazine. "Are we clear yet?" "Almost. There's two over in art; I think they're hunting for naked pictures." "That's always fun. I'll go check the --" "No, I'll do it, I'm on my way," I interrupted, moving to the restroom. I checked the men's room first and found it empty, then knocked on the women's room door. "Anyone in there? It's time to go," I said. I heard a slight giggle, and my curiosity (and my cock) told me to go in, so I did. Opening the first two doors, I found them empty, but in the third stall she sat on the toilet, one leg on the handicapped bar and one on the floor. Her fingers were moving in and out of her bare pussy; I could hear them slurping slightly as she did it, staring right into my eyes and smiling. I stood there and stared as she masturbated, bringing her other hand to rub her clitoris. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at me. "Time to go?" she finally asked. "Yep." I didn't move. She dropped her leg to the floor, and grabbed her panties. With her legs wide open and still looking me in the eye, she wiped her panties over her sex, even pushing part of it into her before standing, walking to me and placing them in my hand. "I'll be back to see you soon," she said. She pushed her body into mine; I felt her breasts rub delightfully against me, and smelled her heavenly aroma. She looked fetchingly up at me again. "But not tonight. I have things to do tonight, okay?" "Alright, but come back soon, okay? I'll be good, I promise." "Of course you will, if you ever want any of this," she said, moving my hand to her crotch. It was hot and wet, and I instantly moved a finger inside of her. She shuddered, but pushed me away. "I'll see you," she said, and pushed past me and out the door. I almost ran after her, but realized I had her panties in my hand. I quickly shoved them in my pocket and ran after her, but she was out the front door. Jeff approached behind me. "Damn, was that the chick you were talking about? Man, she was fine." "Yeah," I nodded stupidly. "Yeah."

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/8087.txt

rascal

MY OLDER SISTER 1

"I will have to admit that it is a very strange disease that your daughter has contracted. Until such time as the disease is completely arrested, Mildred will have to rest during the day and be completely immobilized at night. The medication to keep her from moving during the evening hours must be taken religiously every evening. As you and Mildred must realize, this medicine is very powerful. Even though she will sleep normally and be mentally fully aware, for all practical purposes..." the doctor mused for a moment. And at this significant moment, I just happened to stop by the parlor door and eavesdrop. "...she will be completely immobile and paralyzed by the medication every night. But it is for her own good." My mother sighed, "If it's as necessary as you say, I will make sure that it's done properly." They talked on for a few more minutes, but I had heard enough. There is a god after all. My mother thought my sister was wonderful. My sister was full-grown and practically inseparable from Mother. There were always whispered conferences that quickly broke up as soon as I entered the room. They were always standing together whenever tea was served, and my attendance was required every day. They have been very close-knit since my father died. My father, I really didn't miss very much. He really was all business and had very little time for any of us. Fortunately, we had been well provided for upon his death. As far as I was concerned, neither of them understood men and especially young boys like me. They definitely tended to look down their noses at anything that I wanted to do. I can see my sister now, straight-backed, tall, with chin elevated and looking at me with downcast eyes. Lately, though, even I had begun to notice a difference in Mildred's demeanor. Now I knew it was a disease with a silver lining for me. Mentally and physically paralyzed nightly by drugs. The thought of being able to sneak into her room and beat the bejesus out of her with a board and her not even knowing it was making me positively dizzy with anticipation. The nasty bitch deserved it. No wonder she had no suitors coming to the house. If I thought it would do any good, I'd chip in my whole allowance to her dowry just to get rid of her. That evening, my mother came to my room and asked me to follow her to my sister's room on the floor below. Typical, I was forced to live on the third floor of the old mansion while my sister got a bigger and better room on the second, just two doors down from my mother's room. As we entered, I noticed that my sister was laying on her side in the big double bed (I, of course, had a single narrow bed). "I want you to understand the situation clearly, son," my mother said softly. "If anything should happen during the evening hours when Mildred is medicated, it will be up to us to get her safely out of the house. She'll be completely helpless. You needn't worry about her during the daytime, the servants will be watching. At times like this, I wish they were live-in servants. But, we'll make do, won't we, son?" In a pig's ass, I thought. If there's a fire, this bitch will be the last thing I stop for. "Yes, of course, Mother," I murmured. I looked up at my Mother wide-eyed and innocent and said, "Is Mildred really going to be just like that all night long? Won't she have to get up and go to the bathroom during the night?" "She goes just before she takes the medication, son, and yes, she can't move until the medication wears off in about eight hours." She was going to mention that Mildred was completely aware of her surroundings, but her son was already skipping through the doorway. "Oh, well," she thought, "You can't keep a young boy's attention very long." I knew my mother always went to sleep by nine, and I had a hard time staying up until 11:00, but I didn't want to miss the first night of Mildred's paralysis. I quietly snuck through my sister's door, being careful not to let the door squeak. Once inside, I waited a full five minutes so my eyes could grow accustomed to the low light level. Beautiful, I thought. I had spent a considerable part of the afternoon picking the perfect board, especially for my sister. Nice and flat so it wouldn't leave a mark for either my mother or my sister to find. No one would know but me. I felt myself smirking already. Keeping a straight face around them would be difficult tomorrow. I walked slowly over to the far side of the bed where her backside was laying alongside the edge. I moved up to her head, cupped my hands like a megaphone over her ear, and loudly said "Mildred". Just had to be sure, I thought to myself. Not even an eyelid flickered. Revenge time! I flipped the bedspread and heavy blanket off of her, leaving the sheet as her only protection. Whop! Whop, Whop! Whop, Whop, Whop, Whop, Whop! God, right in the crack of her ass and not a twitch. Christ, I love this. I rested for a couple more minutes, then Whop, whop, whop, whop! I couldn't help myself and started to giggle. I choked the laughter off, but couldn't help smiling. Now for a little damage assessment. I picked up the sheet and looked at her red backside. Her nightgown was partly around her waist, leaving most of her legs and ass exposed. I felt the smile I'd had all day slide from my face as I stared at her ass. Oh, it was red all right, but I'd never really thought of her as being anything other than an aloof stick. Granted, it was bright red, but from the little I knew about such things, this was a marvelous-looking derriere. Just the slightest soft, curly hair appeared to be sticking out from her cleft toward the bottom of the crack. My casual friends and I had talked about girl parts, but I was pretty sure that none of us had actually seen any. And worse, this one leaked. Part of her leg was slick with pee. I quickly tiptoed to the bathroom and took some toilet paper back to the side of the bed. I certainly didn't want to leave any evidence behind showing anyone had been here. I gently tried to sop up the stuff, but I quickly became aware that it wasn't really pee. It was much too slick for that and it wasn't blood, thank god. I cleaned her up as best I could and dropped the tissues into the bathroom trash can. I thought I'd best call it quits for tonight. I walked slowly back to the side of the bed to cover my sister up. At the last second, I decided to see how she was constructed that was different from me. I knelt down on my knees and moved in close so I could see in the limited light. She definitely had an odor. The whole bottom end of her smelled musty but not unpleasant. I slid my fingers slowly down the crack of her ass until I came to her anus. It felt unusually small and petite. I opened the cheeks as much as I could to see. It was soft and practically hairless but essentially similar to my own. I moved my fingers a little bit further and found the source of the slick stuff. There were puffy lips, one on each side and smaller ones inside, and mercy, a hole right in the middle. I tentatively probed a little farther in and buried my finger to the knuckle. Christ, that's hot. I wiggled my finger around some more, and the juice started again. Really slick now. The smell and the hot slickness were giving me what my friends called a hard-on. I withdrew my finger and continued on around to the front. Almost immediately, I ran into a protrusion about a half-inch long sticking straight out. I felt around it for a minute, getting a mental picture of it. Maybe she pissed through it. I'd have to check the books in my dad's library tomorrow. I went further around and ran into soft, curly hair. I guessed that that was the end of the differences, at least on the bottom part. The rest would have to wait for tomorrow night. On the way back around to the back again, I thoroughly memorized each thing I came to.I replaced the bed clothes and silently tiptoed from the room. I got up early the next morning, at least an hour before breakfast. I had found the medical book I was looking for and was avidly eyeing the diagrams of women's genitalia. Each individual part was labeled, and a side note discussed its function. Actually, the inner and outer lips just looked like dust covers to me, and any other function for those was lost on me. But the hole and the little clitoris had some interesting uses which I memorized. There was even a picture showing a half view of a woman with a man's cock inside. That, in conjunction with the rest of the diagrams, really told the whole story. The only other thing that I hadn't noticed was something called a hymen. Supposedly, it was down in the hole somewhere, but I hadn't noticed it when I was feeling around inside of my sister. I lay back in the big leather chair and made my plans for tonight. Tea time again, but this time I 'wanted' to be there. I wanted to appear as Mr. Nice Guy, so I had taken pains with my dress and carefully washed up for the event. My smile had been busting out all day long, but now I had to control it in front of my mother and unknowing sister. I stepped into the Parlor at the stroke of four and said, "Hello, mother, and you too, Mildred. I hope you are feeling better today." I had seen two of the servants carry a wheelchair up to the second floor earlier today and had guessed what it was for. Now my sister was sitting in it with a blanket across her legs, and Mom was standing right beside her with one hand on her shoulder, both looking at me as I spoke to them. Mom looked normal, but Mildred looked a little on the sad side. Maybe it was last night's pain that she was experiencing. I truly hoped so. After tea was served, Mother mentioned that Mildred would be sleeping in the parlor until she was well because of the difficulty of moving her up and down the stairs. I casually looked around the parlor and noted the day bed that had been brought in from somewhere. I also noted the path I would have to take to get to where she would be sleeping. I told them I thought that was a practical thing to do. Then, looking directly at my sister, I asked her how long she thought her illness would last and how long she would have to take that debilitating medicine. I was surprised as I watched a single tear slide down her cheek. Mildred lowered her head and softly said, "However long it takes, I guess. The Doctor mentioned several months." Shit. I'd never seen her cry a tear before, and it was making me uncomfortable. What kind of a rat am I? As I lay in my bed that night, fingering myself, I kept thinking about Mildred crying. But on the other hand, I thought about my revenge, which seemed pretty dumb and petty now, considering her discomfort and pain. I mentally pictured what I'd seen and felt the night before and could almost feel the slippery areas between her legs. I was disgusted with myself for taking advantage of her. Thank God she didn't know about it. My resolve was to leave her alone as I rolled over and went to sleep. The next day at tea, I was feeling pretty good about myself. I had resolved to be nice to Mildred to make up for what I had done to her. I realized it was unnecessary since she didn't even know about it. Still, it was the principle of the thing. At least Mildred wasn't crying today. But Mom was back to her normal carping. And, it was directed at me in particular. I didn't seem to be dressed right and was slouching around the room like a little kid. I was standing next to an end table when Mom made a particularly nasty remark to me. At that same moment, I glanced down and saw Mildred's medicine pills. Without thought, I pocketed one of them and left the room as soon as I could. I spent the rest of the day mulling over my life. I knew that my dad had left everything to me in his will. But that was common since the first-born male always inherited. I vaguely knew that I could throw my sister and mother out if I wanted when I came of age. But that would be stupid. I didn't really want to mess with the servants or take care of the running of the house and farmlands. Besides, both my mother and sister had been given annual allowances for life by Dad. The only thing they would lose by leaving was the free rent they would otherwise have to pay if they were on their own. To maintain their same lifestyle as here would more than eat up both of their allowances. So that was to be avoided by them if at all possible. Throwing out one's relatives just wasn't done unless they were rotten. Still, the threat always remained. And, Mom apparently loved to ring the donkey's tail. Sort of like looking a gift horse in the mouth. That evening, as I was undressing for bed, the pill I had palmed fell out of my pants pocket. I put on my pajamas and robe and went down to the kitchen to join Mom in a glass of milk before bed. She always had a glass directly before going to bed, and she was already there, adding milk to the pan. I asked her to add some for me too. I asked about Mildred and was told she was already asleep in the parlor. I casually asked how long it took for the medicine to take effect, and Mom said about half an hour. I offered to pour the milk for both of us, and on impulse, dropped the pill in Mom's milk. I don't consciously know why I did it, and I certainly didn't know what I did it for. At any rate, it was already too late as Mom was drinking it. At 10:00 that night, I started to think about Mildred being all alone and vulnerable down in the parlor. I told myself that I was just going to go down to make sure she was all right. However, when I got to the second floor, I couldn't get my feet to go past Mom's room door. On an impulse, I quietly opened the door. The light next to the bed was still on, and Mom had her nightdress on. The pill had caught up with her before she could get under the covers. Her hair was down, and I noted that she was still a very attractive woman. Her legs at this moment just happened to be splayed out wantonly. I contemplated what the devil I really had in mind being here. At this point, what the hell, I may as well have a look. After all, having seen only one girl between the legs didn't constitute a very good sample. Besides, this time I had a light on and could do a valid comparison of the two. I lifted up my Mom's nightdress to her waist, but literally couldn't see a thing because of the hair. The hairy area was as big as a dinner plate and completely obscured all the plumbing. Throwing caution and common sense to the wind, I lifted her legs up and pulled her butt close to the edge of the bed. I let her knees sag to either side and noted that it opened things considerably. At least I could see some pink. Knowing that she was completely oblivious about what I was doing, I just let myself go and enjoyed my every impulse. I pulled her lips this way and that. I buried one finger, then two, in her hole. Boy, was it hot in there. It made me think of Mildred. All the construction seemed to be the same, except that Mom had a slightly bigger clitoris and, of course, a bigger pussy hole. I now had four fingers in it, and it too was starting to get really wet. With a little effort, I was certain I could get my whole hand in it. The slipperiness and nice smell of her crotch got my cock and mind going in a different direction. I dropped my pajama pants to the floor and stood before her splayed knees. Although I was only thirteen, I had a large man's cock. I knew this because the doctor had commented on it when I had my last physical. He claimed it was at least twice the size it should be for a boy my age. He casually mentioned that I was much more fortunate than my own father had been. I found that my Mom's pussy was at just the perfect height. I rubbed my cock head up and down the slit for lubrication. God, did that ever feel good. At last, I couldn't take it anymore and buried myself. It was tight, but oh! The feeling when I hit bottom. I waited a full minute until the pending explosion from my balls subsided. Then I started a slow stroke that allowed me to keep going but stay just short of coming. This was my first time, and I both loved it and wanted to prolong it. Even better, I realized much later that I had felt that there were no expectations put on me. Performance was irrelevant since my partner wasn't really part of the act. I only had to just enjoy myself. I finally noticed how long it was since I had snuck into my Mom's room. I knew I should be worn out by now, but the pleasure just washed over me in waves. I felt I could go on forever without ever having to cum. At last, my legs grew weary, but the pace I had set for myself meant that I didn't have to cum unless I wanted to. Somehow it didn't seem right to cum inside of my own mother, so I didn't. I was extremely happy to have had this experience. I gently pulled my cock out of Mom and arranged her nightdress and legs so she wouldn't know that anything had happened to her. I kindly turned off her bedside lamp and tiptoed out the door. I was still as hard as a nail, so I decided to check on Mildred. Mildred was facing out from the day bed, and I wouldn't be able to get to her rear end unless I wanted to drag her around a bit. That didn't seem like an especially good idea because of her disease. So I just eased the huge head of my still hard cock between her lips, squeezed the shaft a few times, and shot into her mouth. Now, I was completely happy and promptly went up to my room for a good night's sleep. I was still extremely happy the next day at tea time. I was happy with everyone, so I paid special attention to my appearance and behavior. I smiled and said hello to both Mom and Mildred. They were still standing as they usually were at the beginning of the tea ceremony.I slid into my usual comfortable chair across from the two of them and set my tea cup and saucer down on the side table. I suddenly noticed that there were several loose pills on the tabletop. I casually looked around without appearing to do so. Bottles of pills were seemingly everywhere. I was a little confused by the abundance of pills. I hadn't even thought of stealing another, but they were all over the place. Well, maybe later when no one was around. Everyone seemed quite jolly, and when I asked Mildred about her illness, she smiled and said that she thought she was resting so well that she may not take so long to recover. I coughed a little and said that that was wonderful. Mother piped right up and said that she couldn't remember when she had had such a sound night's sleep. She said it had totally energized her. Deep down inside, I noted with self-disgust that I didn't want Mildred's illness to prematurely end. And, I definitely wanted to obtain a supply of those pills that seemed to be laying everywhere.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/16786.txt

Victor Ramierez

The Analyst

"Send her in, nurse," said Dr. Hampton. John Hampton then returned to his seat behind his large desk in his wood-paneled, bookshelf-lined office. The doctor was a forty-year-old, brown-haired (but graying) kindly man. John prided himself on being in very good shape, and his muscle tone evened out his five-foot stature to make him into a somewhat handsome man. He had been the resident psychoanalyst at the institute for educational learning for five years now, and he had seen just about everything, becoming a little bit restless. Perhaps this new patient would be a bit more interesting. The door opened, and his next patient strode confidently into his office, and John rose to shake her hand. "Good afternoon, Miss Johnson. I'm Dr. Hampton. Please have a seat," he said, pointing to the empty seat on the other side of his desk. John gave the woman a good looking-over as she was taking off her handbag and lowering herself into the chair. She was in her early thirties and not bad-looking behind the strict-looking glasses she was wearing. She had her long black hair tied up in a bun and was wearing a blue skirt and jacket with a white silk blouse underneath. She was all business but still liked to look good. John liked that. "Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, Doctor. I really need to talk to someone." "That's fine. Please tell me a bit about yourself first." "Well, I'm the headmistress at the nearby girls-only high school, Drummoyne. Do you know it?" "Yes, I've passed it a couple of times." "Okay, then. I've worked there for five years now, and I feel I'm doing a really good job. The school runs well, the students are happy, and so are their parents." "Are you happy with your job?" asked John, looking up from the notes he was making. "Well, I would have to say yes. Yes, I am," she said, looking at the doctor as he looked back down to the notes he was making. She thought he was quite a handsome man, just the type of guy she would like to go out with, or at least would one day when her job became a little less hectic. "May I call you Sarah?" "Please do, Doctor." "Well, Sarah, what is your problem exactly?" "Over the last couple of nights, I've been having a bit of trouble sleeping. I wake up at odd hours as if I've been having a bad dream, but I can't remember a thing." "So is it violent enough to wake up your husband?" "I'm single, I sleep alone. It's only me that I'm bothering." "All right, then, there must be something bothering you that is plaguing your sleeping mind. I think we'd better have a bit of a chat," he said. "Whatever you think it needs, Doctor." John stood up and walked around the desk to the other side of the room and closed the curtains, cutting off the daylight streaming in from the town outside. This left only the green-shaded lamps to provide the light, and this gave the room a warm, cozy feeling. John then walked over to a long leather therapist's couch which was up against the wall behind the chair Sarah was sitting in. "Come and lie down on the couch over here. Leave your jacket so you won't crush it." "Okay," said Sarah, standing up and draping her jacket over the back of the chair. She walked over to the couch and lay down on the soft leather. "Are you comfortable?" "Yes, thank you, Doctor." John sat down in a chair placed next to the couch and pulled his notepad out again. "I think I would recommend a short period of hypnosis. I really need to find out what is bothering you. Do you agree?" "Yes, Doctor, please do whatever is necessary to let me sleep properly." "All right, then, look into my eyes for a moment," he said and turned towards her. Sarah looked up at him and stared deeply into his brown eyes. Concentrating intently, John thought back to his training and a little trick he'd picked up while on extended study in an Asian community. He could hypnotize a person without an external point of focus like a watch or something, just by looking into their eyes. John stared at Sarah's green eyes and then blinked once. Suddenly, Sarah's head slid down, coming to rest against her shoulder. "Sarah, can you hear me?" "Uh huh." "All right, then, let's try a few simple things to get you used to listening to me. Raise your right arm," and in response, Sarah's right arm rose up. "Now the other one," and then her left arm rose up to join it. "Put them down now, Sarah. Sarah, you are worried about something, aren't you?" "Yes, Doctor, I am." "What is worrying you, Sarah?" asked John in anticipation of something interesting. Perhaps a little scandal or something strange and unusual. Anything but the ordinary complaints about how their parents didn't pay them enough attention as a child or how they are unable to function in society as adults because the other children teased them. Something with a little pizzazz. "I have an upcoming review. I worry that I'm not doing enough for the girls. Is there something I'm not providing for them?" John shook his head in disbelief. Her reason was so uninteresting and so dull. It could be fixed immediately. "Sarah, you are a fantastic teacher and a great headmistress. There is nothing the review board can say you aren't doing. Your worries are unnecessary, discard them." "Yes, Doctor...." "Now lie there a moment and think about all the good things you've done for the school," said John, moving back to his desk. He finished off the file and put it away, and then sat down behind the desk. This was the final straw, and he'd had enough. There must be something interesting he could do. He leaned back in the chair and began to consider what he should do. Looking around the office, his eyes glanced across Sarah still lying on the couch. Where he was sitting, he could see her perfectly. He could see the way the nipples on her medium-sized breasts were pushing the silk up. He could see up her skirt to where her white satin panties were nestled snugly into the cleft at the top of her legs. Ideas began to whirl in John's mind. John leaned over and pressed the intercom button, "Alice, is there anyone else for today?" "No, that's the last one for today, John," crackled the response. "All right, then, I'll need some extra time with Sarah Johnson. See that I'm not disturbed," and with a flick, he switched the intercom off. Then he walked over, locked the door, and then sat down in the chair next to the couch. When a patient was like this, he could do anything to them, and he could get them to do anything. John decided it was time to make this job a little bit more interesting. "Sarah, this is your master speaking. You will do anything I say, immediately and without hesitation. Do you understand?" "Yes, I will do anything," she mumbled. He reached over and took her left breast in his hand and began to give it a soft squeeze. He could feel her nipple pushing up into the palm of his hand, and as he squeezed, the nipple began to harden. He then reached over and gave the other breast equal attention. He then reached down to the hem of her skirt and slid it up to give him a good view of her panty-covered pussy. Sliding in a finger from the side of her panties, he began to rub his finger back and forth across her hairy slit, and then he turned his hand a little and slid the finger in between the lips. "This is gonna be great," thought John. "I think I'll get her clothes off now." "Sarah, stand up and walk to the middle of the room," and she responded immediately. "Now unbutton your blouse and take it off."Her blouse quickly fell in a heap on the floor, exposing her white bra which matched her panties. "That's good, now take the skirt off too." And with a quick unzip, the skirt slid down, and she kicked it over with the blouse. "Now take the bra off, and then I want you to press your tits together and play with your nipples." Sarah responded quickly. The bra was in the pile, and then she raised her hands up and took a handful of each tit, and then pressed them both together. "That's it, baby, squeeze them together hard, yes, that's the way. Now do the nipples." She let go of her tits and grabbed each nipple between thumb and forefinger and began to pinch them. "Uhhhn, ow, ow, ow," moaned Sarah as she repeatedly pinched her nips, making them grow harder and harder. "That's enough, now take those panties off and let's see what you've got down there." And she slid the panties down and then stood up. She moved her legs apart and thrust her pubic mound forward, making her little fuckhole pout out from between her legs. "Oh yeah, that's really nice, now grab the lips and pull them apart," so she reached down and grabbed her cuntlips, one in each hand, and spread her pussy wide open. John could see her pink inner folds, he could see her little clit peeking out above her lips, and he could see her wonderful hole. "That's it, baby, now slide a finger in deep." And she immediately slid in a finger, penetrating herself as far as it would reach. "Turn around, bend over and spread your arsecheeks." She removed her finger from her cunt, turned away from him, and bent over so her face was down near the carpet. Reaching up behind her, she grabbed a cheek in each hand and spread them as far apart as she could, exposing her little arsehole and the lips of her pussy. "Oh yeah, great. Come and lie down over here again," said John as he was now really started to get worked up.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11055.txt

Tiki J.

"My Life - In a Nutshell" (Sports Bra)

"Mmmm... sports bra," I thought in a Homer-esque way. A tall, brunette jogger had entered the pool of light coming off one of the university campus' 'lollipop' lights, about 20 yards up the sidewalk from me. I had just exited the library and was attempting to make my way back home after a long day. My day had started with a 7:45 physics test, for which I had been up until 3:30 AM studying. Needless to say, I was looking forward to getting some sleep as my first class the next day wasn't until noon. I had been awakened by the library's closing bell. It was now 11:05, and a cool September breeze had begun to blow from the north. My progress was slowed considerably by my now basketball-sized ankle. Earlier in the day, during the first intramural softball game of the year, I had done my best Pete Rose impression, and had paid for it. I was safe at home, but the run I had scored had cut our team's deficit only to single digits. We lost by 15 before the head umpire decided to have pity on us. My train of thought drifted as I thought of the cold beer and leftover pizza waiting for me at home. These thoughts quickly left my mind as the girl in the sports bra entered the next pool of light, only about 10 yards ahead of me. I noticed she was looking at me. Staring, more like. I began to feel like I should be recognizing this person about now, but was not. I cursed my feeble mind as she quickly approached. "Hi!" she said smiling warmly, "how was your day?" She ran right up to me and hugged me. I was too stunned to answer. My mind went into overdrive to try and figure out who this girl was. Was she in a class? A person from my freshman year dorm? She was certainly acting very familiar with me... "Play along," she whispered in my ear. "Kiss me," she said, only slightly louder. I did. She returned the favor. Damn, she's a great kisser, I thought. As she backed away, she grabbed my hand and led me away from my apartment, cold beer and pizza. I did not mind. She began to explain herself as we walked slowly back towards the library. "I was about 20 minutes into my run, when I noticed this creepy-looking guy following me. I didn't know what to do until you came along. You're the first person I've seen in almost 40 minutes," she said, nervously glancing at her watch. "I'm glad I could help," I said, almost as a question. I looked over my shoulder hoping to catch a glimpse of the offender. I saw no one. "Don't look! That's too obvious!" "Isn't that good?" I replied. "Oh, yeah, I guess so," she quietly said, "Oh, my God, I've kissed you and haven't even introduced myself. And I feel like I know you so well," she added jokingly. "I'm Serena." "Good to meet you," I said, relieved that this was not someone I should know, "I'm Cal." "I think you saved my life. That pervert was probably going to drag me off into the woods and rape me or something," she said, in a much more serious tone. "Oh, I'm sure that wouldn't happen," I said, trying to reassure her. "Didn't you use the emergency call buttons?" I asked, referring to the blue-lit kiosks scattered around the campus. She explained how the library construction had forced her to take a different route, and how she had looked, but somehow missed all of the emergency phones. It was at about this time we both realized we had made it all the way back to the plaza in front of the library. "I didn't even notice you were limping," she said with genuine concern, "what's wrong with your foot?" "Oh, it's not that bad," trying to be tough. Truth was, it hurt like hell, and the pain that had started while I was reading in the library was getting worse. "I just sprained it sliding into home. I play intramural softball in the afternoon." She knelt in front of me, giving me a great view down her sports bra, and put her hand on the injured ankle, then felt the other ankle as a comparison. "You're all swelled up. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to drag you all the way back down here, you were probably headed home, too, weren't you?" "Well, yeah..." I smiled awkwardly, trying to hide the pain in my face. "I tell you what, I'll make up for you saving my life. I'll wrap that up for you. I'm a sports medicine major, you know." She said with a warm smile, "come on, its not that far. I live in Stewart." "Oh, the Palace Dorm," I said. I had lived for one year in Spencer Hall, the oldest, smallest and smelliest of the dorms on campus. It was often referred to as Spencer Hell. Stewart Hall, the newest of the five dorms on campus, was a veritable palace in comparison, hence the nickname. Having agreed to her offer, we made a left turn at the plaza and headed toward the dorms. It was a walk I knew well. While living in Spencer, I had a late evening job at the library's circulation desk. The grove of trees to the north of the sidewalk was a place of peaceful reflection during the day, but tonight, the nearly full moon gave the trees a ghost-like quality. Serena became visibly nervous. As we came to the soccer fields, we heard a rustling in the grove. "Look!" said Serena, pointing. I followed her finger, and saw a man standing in the shadows of the trees. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness surrounding him, I noticed his blue soccer shorts were bunched up around his ankles, his right hand furiously pounding his cock. He looked up and our eyes met. Immediately, he pulled up his shorts and sprinted into the darkness of the soccer field. As I followed the figure into the trees on the other side of the field, I felt Serena's head on my shoulder. She was crying. "We'll call campus police when we get to your dorm," I whispered to her. Putting my arm around her shoulder, we continued up the hill to her dorm, as she shivered in the cooling air. As my luck would have it, Stewart was the farthest building on campus from the library, but we continued slowly up the hill, my aching ankle complaining the whole way. As we neared the door of the five-story building, Serena pulled out the waistband of her shorts to retrieve her keys, which she had tied to the drawstring. As she fumbled with the knot, I was able to take in her body, which was now in the filtered light of the lobby. She stood about 5 feet, 10 inches tall, with medium brown hair that reached about halfway down her neck. She was wearing a navy blue Nike sports bra, navy blue shorts, and Nike running shoes. She looked like she belonged in a commercial for cross training shoes or something. I immediately felt guilty for ogling over this girl, who was in need of help. I smiled meekly as she finally got the keys free and looked up. "I need something with pockets," she said, with a half-smile. Her tears had made tracks down her cheeks, and I noticed that she had a faint sheen of sweat on her upper chest. She let me in the door first, and followed, telling me to make a right turn and go up the stairs. I allowed her to pass on the landing, and she led me to her room, number 216. The door hung open, and her roommate was standing in front of a small TV, holding a backpack. In a quiet voice, Serena introduced us, and her roommate, Dana, seemingly too caught up in America's Funniest Home Videos, mumbled, "hi." Dana finally pulled herself from Bob Saget and picking up a keychain from the desk, left the room, leaving the two of us alone. "I think I'll call campus police now," said Serena, "make yourself at home," pointing the bottom bunk against the wall, "you can go ahead and sit on my bed." I carefully pushed aside a number of stuffed animals and tried to make myself comfortable. Unfortunately, I had to slouch to the side to keep my head from scraping the top bunk. Serena managed to remain somewhat calm as she told her story to the person on the phone.Apparently, she was then transferred to someone else, who took a report and asked her to come to the office in the morning. Agreeing to do so, Serena then hung up. "I'm sorry, Cal, I'm going to go talk to my RA. I'll be back in a few minutes." After assuring her that I didn't mind, she turned left out of her door and headed toward her resident advisors' room. I got up, narrowly missing the top bunk with my head. I flipped through the channels and was shocked to see Conan O'Brien on already. I woke up to see Serena sitting next to me on the bed, gently rubbing my chest. "Sorry I took so long," she said with a smile, pulling a stuffed rabbit from the side of my head. "What time is it?" "About quarter after two." "Yikes," I said with a grin. "Good thing I don't have class till 12:00." "I don't have class at all on Fridays," she said, sticking her tongue out. "Lazy bum." "I just know how to plan my schedule. That way, I have three-day weekends every week." "Whatever, you're just lazy." She began to tickle me on my stomach. "Am not." I poked her in the ribs, "are too." She giggled quietly, as to not wake the rest of the floor, who undoubtedly had class in the morning. Stretching, her sports bra exposing more of her perfect flat stomach, she inhaled deeply. "Damn! I stink!" "Yeah, no shit," I said jokingly, poking her in the ribs again. She immediately rolled over on top of me, tickling me in the sides. "So do you! Take that back!" she whispered fiercely in my ear. "No!" She continued to tickle my sides, but I retaliated, tickling her exposed stomach. We continued for a minute or two, giggling uncontrollably. I rolled her over on her side, giving me better access to her, but after a few minutes, we were both exhausted. I rolled over on my back. "I'd better go now." "No!" she said a little too excitedly, "I mean, I still haven't paid you back for saving my life." "Don't worry about it. Besides, you need to take a shower," I said, with a grin. "Why don't you join me?" she said, with a smirk on her face. "Uh..." I nearly choked. "Come on, you chicken?" she mocked me. "No one is up. Nobody will ever know." She leaned over, untied her shoes, removed her socks, then jumped off the bed, shedding her shorts. I glanced at the open door, wondering if there were 20 college girls peeking in, hoping to catch a show. There weren't. She pulled the sports bra over her head, revealing the best pair of breasts I had ever seen. Then she slid her panties down her long tan legs and put on the robe that she had grabbed from the closet. "Come on, Cal, no free shows," she said, hitting me in the face with a spare towel. Peeling the towel away from my head, I finally awakened from my stupor, and began to remove one shoe, while she worked on the other. Remembering the pain in my ankle, I winced a bit as she yanked my shoe off. "Sorry," Serena rubbed my ankle as I removed my other shoe. Finally free of my shoes and socks, I leapt from the bed, banging my head on the upper bunk as I tried to remove my shorts and stand in one motion. "Nice one, Mr. Smooth," she said, giggling. "Shut up." At this point, as I removed my t-shirt, I realized my dick had worked itself up to about half mast. Embarrassed, I looked sheepishly at Serena, and she turned and walked out the door. After taking off my underwear and wrapping the towel around my waist, I noticed Serena peeking around the door with an evil grin on her face. "Nice," she said, slapping my ass as I walked past her in the hall. Making sure there was no one in the bathroom, I cautiously entered. Serena pointed to two adjoining shower stalls that were separated by a curtain. "If anyone comes in, it'll look like there's two people, but in separate showers," she whispered. She reached into the showers, turning both on, then removed her robe and stepped in. I admired her perfect ass as she stepped over the threshold to the shower, but my reverie was interrupted by her yanking me by my arm into the stall. She squirted some soap out of the dispenser and motioned for me to turn around. Starting at my shoulders, she began to lather up my back, then down to my ass. Not yet satisfied, she scrubbed behind my ears before turning me back around, steering with my shoulders. Leaning over, she kissed me, her breasts brushing my chest, and retrieved more soap from the dispenser. She spread the soap over my chest, until it began to foam up, then moved lower. I gasped as she reached my cock, which had reached full length by now. She massaged it, soaping it up thoroughly, then moved to my balls, which she gave the same treatment. I closed my eyes, enjoying every second of the thorough cleaning I was getting. She moved closer, kissing me again, and wrapped her arms around my shoulders as she pressed against me. Unfortunately, she kept her legs tightly closed to prevent access to her. "Your turn, sexy," she murmured into my ear, grinding her chest against mine. She turned me around so that I was in the stream of water. Reaching over her to the soap dispenser, as she had done to me, I motioned for her to turn around. I began at her shoulders, moving down her back, and noticing the lack of any tan lines. I re-soaped my hands and began to massage her firm ass, letting my fingers slide forward into her nether regions. She gasped slightly, so I ventured further. She opened her legs further, giving me unrestricted access to her pussy. She leaned forward, and I inserted a finger, then a second into her moist twat. She began to moan softly, and move back into my probing fingers. With my free hand, I reached around her body, massaging her firm, c-cup tits. Her moaning became more intense, and she looked over her right shoulder at me with a look of lust unlike any I had ever seen. She grabbed my hand, pulling it from her crotch, and said, "that's not going to be enough." Turning around, she grabbed me by the neck and pulled me toward her. Raising her right leg, she grabbed my stiff rod and positioned it at the entrance to her pussy. Using the shower wall as leverage, I pushed my cock into her soap-lubricated hole. After a few pushes, I realized that my aching ankle was not going to hold up, so I turned around, and with my back against the wet, slippery shower wall, slid down into a sitting position. Serena began to glide up and down on my engorged tool, with increasing urgency. I leaned forward and began to lick and suck her right breast, massaging the other with my left hand. Her nipples stood out against the rushing shower water and begged for my attention. I moved my to the other breast, until she grabbed my head and kissed me for all she was worth. Her motions on my cock began to quicken as she neared climax, and I could feel that I was near reaching the point of no return myself. Releasing the kiss, she began to bounce madly up and down on my cock, her breasts bouncing inches in front of my face. Suddenly, her face contorted and her pussy began to clamp down on my cock. I could hold back no longer, and we both entered a massive orgasm at nearly the same instant. I peeked out the door to the bathroom, and noticed the clock at the end of the hall read 3:13. Serena pushed me from behind. "Let's go. I'm freezing my ass off back here." She flopped into the bed, her robe falling open to reveal her perfect body, which was, at this point, covered with goosebumps. She hurriedly covered herself with a comforter and tossed her robe at me. "I thought you were cold," I said, sarcastically. "It's warmer with two when you're naked," she said, "you are staying, aren't you?" "Is that an invitation?" I said with a smile. "Well, duh," was the reply. Removing the towel, I climbed under the covers with Serena. Suddenly, a thought crossed my mind. "What about your roommate?" "She's at her boyfriend's." Serena replied, "she spends so much time there, I don't know why she bothers paying the rent for this place." "Good storage I guess," I said, noticing the boxes piled up in a corner. "It's her TV and VCR, too, so I'm glad she lives her," said Serena with a smile. I chuckled. "Thanks for saving my life," Serena said, then kissed my ear. "Have I paid you back appropriately?" "Hmm... I don't know," I said with a smirk. "Oh yeah," she said, reaching over and grabbing my dick. "Yeah." I rolled over to face her, kissed her cheek and rubbed her bare stomach. "My ankle still hurts." She smacked me on the forehead and grinned. "We'll have to take care of that in the morning," she said, rolling over. I put my arm over her shoulder and pulled her close. The curtain billowed into the room as a chilly wind howled across the campus. The first big storm of the year was sure to follow, and I was freezing my ass off. Hard to believe that just yesterday, the weather was nice enough for me to take my usual jog in just shorts and a sports bra. I put my arm over Cal, who was hogging the comforter, and snuggled closer as I pulled the thick flannel sheet over my naked body. He began to move slightly, so I asked him to go close the window. Seeming to have no resistance because of his early morning stupor, he slowly rose and made his way to the window. His bare ass looked perfect in the filtered morning light, and the view when he returned was just as spectacular. He climbed back into the bed, this time facing me. "Good night," he said. "Wake up, lazy butt. It's after ten already." "So. Don't have class till noon," he said, barely coherently, "don't have to get up till 11:50." I tickled his stomach, but it had no effect. "Doesn't work this early," he said with a tired smirk. "Please," I said as I kissed his forehead. "Uhn-uhn," was the mumbled reply. I kissed his forehead again, then his cheek. No response. I kissed his lips and licked them softly. Still, nothing. I made my way down to his neck, then his chest.Still, he made no move. Under the darkness of the sheets, I could see that his penis was hard. At least I was having some effect on him. Suddenly, he slid down towards the end of the bed, his face inches from mine. "Are we having a little party down here?" he asked, smiling and suddenly awake. I smacked him on the forehead, then kissed him. He kissed back, passionately, and I rolled over on top of him. He started laughing. "What's so funny," I asked, mildly irritated. "I'm about to fall off here," looking toward the floor. I realized then that only his right side was actually on the bed. Just then, our center of gravity shifted as he tried to turn back to look at me. We ended up in a pile on the floor, naked as the day we were born. I started giggling. I wasn't cold anymore. His body acted as a perfect, body-sized heater that seemed to keep every part of me warm. Some more so than others. He kissed me, and rolled over on top of me, farther away from the bed. I was suddenly nervous. "What if my roommate comes home?" "She's already here," snickered Cal, pointing toward the top bunk. "When did she get here?" I whispered, suddenly wanting to cover myself. Cal smiled and mouthed the word "five." "She's been here since five?!" I got up quickly and, as carefully as possible, climbed back into the lower bunk, motioning for Cal to follow. He climbed in, and lay on his back as I placed my head on his shoulder. I rubbed my hand over his muscular chest, and kissed his cheek. He turned toward me, and reached over my shoulder, pulling me closer. We kissed for what seemed like ages before my hands began to wander again. I put my arm around his waist, then pulled him as close to me as possible, his hardening penis pressing against my stomach. Rolling over on top of him, I continued to kiss him as his hands roamed over my bare back and ass. I began to grind my hips into him, rubbing his cock. He moaned quietly and broke our kiss, pushing me over onto my side. He massaged my stomach with his gentle hands, then began to lick and kiss the tops of my breasts. Moving his hand up to cup my left breast, he kissed and licked in a circle around my nipple, moving closer to it on each pass. Finally, he reached the nipple and began to suck and lick it like a hungry infant. I moaned quietly as he continued, then moved to the other breast. In the meantime, his free hand moved lower, brushing through my pubic hair, barely missing my pussy. I begged for him to move faster, as I felt my pussy begin to moisten. He looked up and smiled, his blue eyes telling me that I'd have to wait just a moment longer. His hand moved around to my ass, and I groaned in disappointment. He continued his kissing and licking route to my belly button, and finally, began to spread my legs apart with his hands. My pussy dripping with anticipation, he rubbed his nose through my pubic hair and to the top of my slit. Inhaling my fragrance deeply, he rolled me over on top of him in a quick motion, so that we were in a 69 position. As he began to softly tease my cunt lips with his tongue, I started to gently massage his balls. His licking and sucking became more intense, and I reciprocated with his cock. Grabbing it firmly with my right hand, I began to lick the underside of his erect tool, teasing the head with the tip of my tongue. His tongue found its way into my pussy and I shuddered. As he stroked my clit with the tip of his tongue, I felt a familiar feeling build. I released my grip on his cock and put my arms around his legs as his probing tongue, and now, fingers, started me on an orgasm unlike any I had ever had before. Forgetting I was in a dorm, I began to moan loudly, grabbing onto his legs like they were the last thing holding me on earth. My thighs clamped around his head, forcing him to keep up his ministrations. Finally, after what seemed like hours, I started to relax. I rolled off of him, panting. His face appeared next to mine. I grabbed his head and kissed him deeply, tasting my own juices. "Wake up. I've got to go to class now," Cal said, sitting up. "Oh. Did I fall asleep again?" "Yeah. Looks like you had a pretty nice dream too," Cal said with a grin, pointing to the wet spot on the sheet. From above came a giggle. "Yeah, a really nice dream," said Dana. I looked at Cal with a shocked expression. He smiled back and shrugged his shoulders. Leaning over, he whispered in my ear. "I'll give you a call." "You don't know my number." "I got it off the phone," Cal said, pointing to the dorm-issued phone. He kissed me, then got up to retrieve his clothes. After putting on his underwear, he sat down on the bed and I scratched his back as he pulled on his shorts. "Mmmm... that feels good." "Cut it out down there. Once is enough for today," Dana said with mock seriousness. I just looked at Cal with the same shocked expression. Once again, he shrugged his shoulders. After putting on his shirt, he grabbed his backpack, walked to the door and blew me a kiss as he walked out. My pessimistic side wondered if I'd ever see him again. I opened the door, hoping no one was home. I didn't feel like dealing with the questions: where were you? why are you wearing the same clothes? My roommates were like a bunch of junior high school girls or something. Always gossiping. I quickly made my way across the living room, which was littered with empty beer cans, to my room. The pain in my ankle had miraculously disappeared. I put the piece of paper with Serena's number on it and headed for the bathroom. After relieving myself, I went to the kitchen. I'd had nothing to eat since before my softball game yesterday at 3:30. Just as I opened the fridge door, the front door flew open. Bryan entered, as usual, loudly and destructively. Throwing his loaded backpack onto the beer can covered coffee table, he yelled, "strike!" as several cans crashed to the floor. About this time, he noticed me, standing in front of the refrigerator, shaking my head at the spectacle. "Hey, where have you been. Up late studying?" Sarcasm was a usual component of his speech, but this time he was laying it on pretty thick. "Yeah, fell asleep at the library. Had to stay overnight. Got locked in," I responded, with equal sarcasm. "Oh, and I thought perhaps the world's last remaining 22-year old virgin had scored," he said with a wide grin. "Guess not." He turned and went to the bathroom, not bothering to close the door behind him. "Maybe someday, huh, Cal?" He yelled from the john. As much of an asshole as Bryan was, he was very perceptive at times, when he wasn't drunk at least. Of course, he could have just been reaching for something to insult me with. "Whatever, Bryan," I said, half to myself. I returned to my room to try and finish up the homework I had forgotten to do for my 12:00 class. Hopefully, I could get it done in time to take it up to campus before the professor's office hour was over at 4:30. Flipping my computer on, I sat down and guzzled some Mountain Dew. Last night's activity had made me very sleepy at this point, and the soda was all I could think of to keep me awake at the moment. I decided to check my email before doing my homework, delaying the inevitable. Logging on, I discovered a message from Serena. Without wondering how she got my address, I opened up the file and began reading. "Hi Sexy, You left your wallet here, so I decided to look you up in the student directory. Come pick it up, and I'll take you out to dinner... or maybe you'll take yourself out to dinner ;). Love, S." I felt around to my rear pocket, remembering the paycheck that was still in my wallet. After finishing my homework in record time, I hopped on my bike, riding toward campus. Once I had dropped off the assignment, I headed up the long hill to the dorms. As I approached Stewart Hall, I realized I had left Serena's number on my desk at home. "You didn't!" Dana exclaimed. "Yeah... I just had a good feeling about it though," I replied. "I can't believe you lost your virginity to a guy you only knew for two hours!" "It was more like three..." Crack! Dana jumped up, looking out the window. "Hey lover boy!" I jumped up and ran across the room, pushing Dana from in front of the window. Looking down from our second-floor window, I saw Cal, blushing and looking around nervously. "Let me in," he said, quietly. I practically tripped down the stairs as I ran to the door. Almost knocking him out, I swung the outside door open with a flourish, and hugged him. "I'm glad you came." "I had to get my wallet," he replied with a grin. Using his wallet as a weapon, I smacked him across the forehead. "There!" "What did you have in mind for dinner?" I asked, rubbing my forehead. "I don't know, but I'm starving!" "You'll have to drive then, 'cause I rode my bike up here," I replied, "unless you'd like to ride the pegs." "That sounds like fun," she said with an evil grin on her face. I wondered if she meant what I thought. Turning, she motioned for me to follow her inside. As we climbed the stairs to her room, we met Dana coming down. She gave Serena a big grin, and then winked as she passed me. Entering her room, I crashed into her as she suddenly turned. At that point, I noticed her eyes. "You have beautiful eyes." "No I don't. They're shit brown," she said, looking down. "I love brown eyes," I said, holding her head up with my right hand. She smiled shyly at me and turned me around with my shoulders. "Let's go. I'm hungry!" I looked over at the clock. It read 10:03. Cal lay quietly sleeping at my side as I ran my fingers through his hair, half-trying to wake him up. He must not have gotten much sleep in the last couple of days. Laying back, I thought about our evening. It had gone pretty well, considering.We actually had a lot to talk about, which was nice. I hoped that our conversation had taken his mind off of my ravenous appetite, which had caused me to eat about twice as much as he did. I climbed over Cal, pausing briefly to kiss his forehead. He still did not stir, so I continued off the bed and began taking my clothes off. Leaning my naked body over him, I whispered, "Cal. Cal. Wake up. Hey." "Mmphh." "You gonna sleep in your clothes or what?" Finally, he opened his eyes slightly. "Probably not," he said, with the half-smile that I had already grown to love. Sitting on his thighs, I pulled his shirt off over his head and began to unzip his jeans. I shut off the water and climbed out of the shower, reaching for a towel. Walking out of the bathroom, I rubbed my hair dry and noticed that Serena was still asleep. Throwing the towel on the back of a chair, I walked over to the window and opened the curtains, allowing the bright desert sun to shine directly on the bed. Turning back to the bed, I noticed she was finally stirring. She looked at me with a strange grin on her face. "You know, all of Las Vegas can see your ass..." "I don't care," I said, turning around, "let 'em see it all!" A pillow struck me in the face as I turned back toward Serena. "Weirdo." Taking a running start, I jumped on the bed, nearly bouncing her out. She pulled the medieval-themed comforter over her head as she tried to roll away from me. Now laying on her stomach, I laid down entirely on her and spoke through the comforter into her ear. "Wake up, sleepyhead. We've got lots to do today." "Do you know what time it is?" came the muffled reply. "Yeah, it's 7:15." "So let's do some math here. We went to bed at 4:00. How many hours does that leave for sleeping?" "Three." "Three!! No normal person can function on three hours of sleep, much less have to meet someone's parents." She began to struggle beneath me, but I had her held down with my legs. Sitting up, I began to pull back the comforter and sheet. Rolling over, she whacked me in the side of the head with her pillow. "Me need sleepy," she said with a tired smile. "Not gonna happen." I peeled the sheets farther back, revealing her naked body. About the time I had uncovered down to her navel, she suddenly grabbed the comforter from my hands. "Cut it out!! Close the curtains." "Aren't you the person I had sex with in a dorm shower just a few months ago? When did you get all shy? Besides, we're on the 16th floor." "Oh." "Come on, get up... please?" "Alright," she drawled, "you're gonna have to help me shower, though." "Say, you've never told me how you got this great tan," I said, running my hand over her bronzed left breast. "I'll never tell." "I'll tickle you." "Do me your worst." "Fine. Never mind then," I said, hoping to play reverse psychology. It didn't work. "Get off me if you want me up," Serena said, poking my stomach. "Ooh, you're getting fat!" Sucking in my gut, I got up off the bed, pulling her up by her arms. "Let's go take a look out the window," I said, pulling her in that direction. "Maybe when I get some clothes on," she said, still being shy. "I'll cover up your important parts," I said, stepping behind her. Wrapping one arm around her chest, and placing one hand on her crotch, I walked her over to the window. "See, this is what Vegas looks like in the daylight," I said over her shoulder. The view out the east side window of the Excalibur was unimpressive -- the airport followed by vast stretches of strip malls and red tile-roofed houses. "Great." "Looks better at night, doesn't it?" I said. "Yeah." She turned her head toward me and we kissed. I steered her toward me and hugged her close, her naked skin against mine. My dick began to press its way between her legs as she rubbed her hands across my back and rear. I began to kiss my way down her neck, and to her upper chest as she ran her hands through my hair. Her fear of being spotted gone, she pressed my head lower until I was eye level with her breasts. I began kissing and licking my way around her perfectly formed tits, finally focusing on her nipples. After administering a good sucking and kissing to her right nipple, I moved to the left, at which point she pulled my head tight to her chest. "Bite it," she whispered. I did as I was told and was rewarded with a gasp. Placing her hands firmly on my shoulder, she shoved me downward. I collapsed to the floor with a thud. Crouching in front of me, she pushed my shoulders to the floor, and climbed over me, straddling my erect penis. Looking down, she positioned herself above my dick and lowered herself so that my member was flat in between our bodies. Moving back and forth in a sawing motion, she leaned over me, placing her breasts directly in front of my face. As I sucked on a tit, she continued her back and forth motion, and I could feel her juices begin to drip onto my crotch. She tossed her head back quickly, denying me of any breast action and began to move more rapidly. Faster and faster she went, until she began to quake with orgasm. Falling back down on my chest, she grabbed my head with one hand and kissed me deeply. With the other hand, she guided my throbbing dick into her soggy pussy. "Holy shit! I don't think I've ever come like that before," he said, rolling over on top of me. "Me neither," I said, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. "Looks like you'll have to take another shower." "Damn it," he said with a grin. "You're amazing," he said, sitting up. "Oh, look, a cloud." Sitting up, I looked out the window. Sure enough, a lone cloud had entered our line of sight, spoiling an otherwise perfectly blue sky. I stuck my tongue in his ear, causing him to jerk away. "Ahhh! Why do you always do that?" "Cause I like to freak you out." "Warn me before you do that," he said, pushing me back to the floor. Running his hands through my hair, he bent over and kissed me. I returned the kiss, then he began to kiss his way down my neck. Turning my head with his hand, he kissed his way up the side of my neck, then suddenly moved higher and stuck his tongue in my ear. "Aiiyyeee!!" I screamed, thrashing around. "See?" Tickling him under the arms, I was able to free myself from his grasp. I jumped up and sprinted to the bathroom, where I slammed the door and locked it. "Looks like you aren't going to be able to wash those hard to reach places," he said on the other side of the door a moment later. Opening the door, I grabbed his head and pressed my lips to his. Still kissing him, I dragged him into the bathroom and pulled his body to mine. Serena sat on the bathroom counter, brushing my hair. "I'm glad you decided to let your hair grow out." "Mmm," I said, paying more attention to a drip of water that had made its way from her wet hair, down her neck, between her breasts and to her thigh. "Wake up," she said, tilting my head back up. "So," I said, placing my hands on her thighs, "ready to meet my parents?" "Ughh." The clock on my dash read 11:00 as I eased my car into traffic on westbound US 95, nearly getting run over by a Chevy Suburban in the process. Come trade-in time, I'm getting something with a V6. "You hungry?" I asked Serena. "What?" "Wake up, spacey," I said, "are you hungry?" "Sure." Exiting the highway at Lake Mead Boulevard, I spotted the sign advertising the In-and-Out Burger location. Pulling into the parking place, I caught a whiff of the world's best burger through my open window. "Mmmm, In-and-Out," I mumbled. "Cal, I'm scared about meeting your parents." "Don't worry, they don't bite," I said with a smile. "I don't know if I should eat anything. I feel like I'm gonna puke." I wasn't sure if it was going to be better this way. Cal had suggested we come out a day early and spend a night in a hotel, before going to his parents' house. Looking back on it, it might have been better just to meet at the dinner table or something. Oh well, too late now. I looked up at Cal, who was messily devouring a 'double-double.' "You've got a little something in your teeth, there," I said, laughing. Swirling his tongue around, he grinned back. "Get it?" "Yeah." After eating a couple of fries, he returned to his burger. "How long are we staying?" "Just two nights." Then it was off to southern Utah for us, for some camping and hiking. I hoped the weather would be nice, so we wouldn't have to be stranded in some podunk town the whole time, waiting for flooding to stop or something. "Ready?" he asked. "Yeah. Let's do it," I said with a nervous sigh. I looked down suddenly as I felt a warm, wet sensation around my penis. In the thin light of the morning, I could see the top of Serena's head above my crotch. Sensing that I was now awake, she looked up and grinned, then began to bob up and down rapidly on my erect tool. "What a way to wake up," I thought as I let my head fall back to my pillow.A friend brought me flowers, she said they were lilacs, But I've never been good with plants. Her next presentation, a new dictionary, She circled the word "romance." So enthusiastic, a little bit drastic, I shaved her name in my head. As she beheld it, she said I misspelled it; Need more be said? The light filtering in through the curtains above the bed had become brighter, and at about this point, I realized that Serena was in fact in the guest bedroom at the opposite end of the house. Shit. These apples are delicious! "As a matter of fact they are," she said. Can all this fruit be free? I rolled over and flipped the switch on the clock radio to 'off.' "Gahh," I gasped as cold water dripped on the back of my neck. Cranking the faucet all the way to the left, I hoped there was hot water left in the house. Serena had obviously already showered, as I noticed several long brown hairs in the drain. I made my way down the hall toward the kitchen. I could hear Serena and my mother talking. Suddenly, they both broke out laughing. Great. "Hello, sunshine," said my mom. "Mmphh." I poured myself a bowl of Wheaties, then took a seat at the kitchen table. "Sleep well?" she continued, hoping to elicit some sort of response. "Sure." "Is he always like this in the morning?" asked Serena, knowing damn well what the answer was. "Generally, unless it's Christmas or something," said my mom, getting up from the table to pour some more coffee. Serena winked at me. I stuck my tongue out at her. Having finished my cereal, I got up and placed my bowl in the sink. "So, when are you guys leaving?" asked my mom. I filled the bowl with water, then grabbed a glass from the cabinet. "Probably around 11:00," I said, looking toward Serena for confirmation. I reached into the fridge, pulling out a container of orange juice. "That is, unless you want us out of your hair sooner." I poured myself a tall glass of juice and leaned on the countertop. "He always acts like we're trying to get rid of him," said my mom to Serena with a smile. "Besides," I added, "we have to hit In-and-Out on the way out of town." The sun began to rise above the mountains, but the nylon fabric of the tent diffused most of the light. I rolled over and tried to fall back asleep. At that point, I realized Cal was no longer in the tent with me. Oh well, I thought as I sprawled out over the entire floor of the small tent. I awoke again what must have only been a couple of minutes later, judging by the light, a rock poking my rib. "Shit." I rolled around, trying to get comfortable again, but it just wouldn't happen. I noticed the smell of bacon, so I decided to get up. The cold air hit my naked chest as I unzipped the sleeping bag. I had on only a pair of boxers that I had stolen from Cal last night, and was now regretting the fact that I didn't put my sweats back on after we had made love in the zipped-together sleeping bags. Grabbing a blanket from the corner of the tent, I made my way outside. The red sand felt cool, but not cold on my feet as I stood erect and noticed for the first time the sunrise over the distant peaks. Cal sat on a rock, with his back to me, tending to the fire and breakfast. Leaning forward, he picked up a coffee mug and took a sip. He still did not notice my presence as I walked up behind him. I wrapped my blanket-covered arms around him and kissed his neck. It was cold. "You should be wearing something warmer." "You sound like my mom," he grumbled, turning to kiss me. "Look who's talking!" He slid forward on the flat rock, and I sat behind him, wrapping the blanket around both of us. We sat in silence, taking in the sunrise and the smell of cooking bacon. After a few minutes, I noticed my butt was numb from the cold sandstone, and I had to stand. "I'm gonna go put some clothes on," I said, noticing my breath for the first time. I puffed a couple of more times on the way back to the tent, wondering if my ass was going to have frostbite. "I'm going to steal your sweatshirt," I said from the tent. "Okay." Serena emerged from the tent, wearing my sweatshirt, blue jeans, hiking boots, and my Rockies hat. I didn't mind that she'd stolen my hat, too -- she looked better in it than I did. "Took your hat, too." "I noticed," I said, trying to sound annoyed. She didn't buy it. "How far do we have left?" She asked, after kissing my cheek. "About ten miles, probably. I'd have to look at the map." We were starting the third day of a backcountry hiking trip through Canyonlands National Park. Despite the chill, the weather had been perfect the last couple of days, and looked to be beautiful today as well. As the sun continued to rise over the La Sal Mountains, I could count only three clouds in the sky. After breakfast, I packed up the tent, and marveled at the location of our last nights' camp site. We had pitched the tent in a large, sandy flat, surrounded by juniper trees, and two house-sized sandstone blocks. To the east, we had a great view of the mountains, and to the west, about 100 yards away, was a deep crevice that led to a larger canyon. "Ready?" I asked Serena. "All set." "Good thing I didn't sleepwalk last night," I said, as we passed the crevice. "You don't sleepwalk." "Sure I do," I replied, "you just never notice, 'cause you're too busy talking to yourself." "Whatever," she said from behind me. I flinched, expecting some object to hit the back of my head at any moment. "I can't find anything to throw," Serena said, noticing my hunched over position. "I had a dream the other morning, in Las Vegas," I said. "About what?" she asked, as she walked beside me. "You were giving me a blowjob." She threw me a dirty look. "There might be people around, you know." "Haven't seen anyone in two and-a-half days." "So? You still shouldn't talk about things like that." "Sorry," I said, wrapping my arm around her shoulder and pulling her close. "Good," she said, punching me in the ribs. We entered a dry, sand and cobble filled wash, lined with high embankments of sand and occasional 'beaches.' Reaching the shade of a juniper, we paused for a moment, and I reached into her pack to get the water jug. "It's getting kind of warm," I said, pulling my pack off. "I'm gonna take off my sweatshirt." "Good idea," she said, and reached around to remove her backpack. As my head popped out of the collar, I looked over to Serena. She had removed her sweatshirt, and was shaking her head to untangle her hair. She was naked from the waist up. "I thought there might be people around." "I haven't seen anyone in two or three days," she said with a smirk. She walked over to me and put her arms on my shoulder. "I had a dream the other night. We were having sex on a sand dune. Guess this will have to do," she said, waving her hands at the sand embankment. She pushed me into the sand, and as she kissed me forcefully, began to grind her pelvis into my denim-covered crotch. Leaning back, she pulled my t-shirt over my face and began to lick and kiss my chest. I struggled to free myself from the shirt, but to no avail. She kissed and licked her way to the top of my underwear, where she released my shirt and began to unzip my jeans. I pulled the shirt from my head and looked down. She was in the process of removing her jeans, and revealing the fact that she was wearing no panties. She looked up at me with a lustful look in her eyes. "Lift," she said, as she removed my boxers. Then, with a sudden motion, she took my cock in her mouth. I was stunned by the quickness of it, but then as quickly as she had started, she stopped, and moved her body up even with mine. Turning my head with her hands, she kissed along the side of my neck, to my ear. Licking my ear, she whispered, "we're gonna do my dream first." She leaned back slightly, so she was kneeling above me. I could see a fine sheen of sweat on her breasts as she took a hold of my hard dick. I closed my eyes as she lowered herself onto my waiting cock. Once he was entirely inside me, I pulled his head to my chest. "Bite my nipples," I said, barely at a whisper. He did so immediately, biting and sucking so hard, I though he was going to swallow them each whole. I moved slowly up and down on his dick, then began to pick up the pace as my heart began to race. I felt Cal begin to tense up below me. He came soon after, shooting loads of cum into my cunt, and I came seconds after his first shot. Noticing that I had a handful of his hair, I let Cal's head fall back to the sand. Sweat had beaded up on his forehead and chest, and I wiped a drop from the bridge of his nose. The day had started freezing, but now, in the desert sun, the temperature was probably 95 degrees. I began to giggle. "What," said Cal, somewhat breathlessly. "We're gonna get a nasty sunburn." At that point, Cal's limp, sticky dick fell out of me and onto his stomach with a 'splat.' I looked down at him and raised my eyebrows suggestively. "What?" he said, confused. "We still haven't fulfilled your dream," I said as I wiggled my way down his body. It felt good to be back in my own bed after a week on the road, but I just wished it could be under different circumstances. Another chill went down my spine as Serena dripped some more aloe vera lotion on my butt. After spending almost three hours fucking like bunnies -- dumb bunnies -- in the scorching sun, I had an all-over burn that I would give my left nut to be rid of. Serena was pretty red, too, but her darker complexion combined with the fact that she had tanned in the nude while on a vacation in the Bahamas allowed her to escape with little pain. So here I was, naked in my bed, covered in goopy, green aloe vera lotion, with a chair propped up against my bedroom door to prevent one of my roommates from walking in.Either I need to get a lock for my door, or move into my own place. "That's the last of it," Serena said, interrupting my reverie. "Would you like me to go to the store and get some more?" she asked, holding up the empty bottle. I looked over my shoulder at her red, naked body, still glistening slightly from the aloe vera I had applied to her skin. "No, that's all right. I think I'm just going to take a nap." "Okay. Do you mind if I join you?" "That would be lovely," I said, my voice muffled by the pillow. She climbed into the bed, pulling a light sheet up over us, and cuddled behind me. "I love you," she said. Hey all- here's part three of the Sports Bra story. I've decided to continue with this story, rather than making it a trilogy -- I really like the characters. Anyway, after this, the story will be known as MY LIFE - IN A NUTSHELL, after the Barenaked Ladies song. You'll notice a couple of BNL lyrics within the story, so if you represent the band, please don't sue me. This portion of the story actually contains very little sex, but more or less sets up the future chapters. I still think it will be an enjoyable read. There is also a 'teaser' of the beginning of chapter 4. Thank you all for your support and helpful criticisms. Thanks also to Celeste for her good rating... I hope she and the rest of you have enjoyed the subsequent parts as much as the first one. One more thing before I get on with chapter 3. My original e-mail address, stcheese was an old one I had, and I did not identify myself in the original post. My new email address is tikij@hotmail.com Tiki J. A crash from outside the bedroom door awakened me. I rolled over slightly, noticing the clock radio next to the bed read 10:04. We had been asleep for nearly four hours. I noticed a rumble in my stomach, but my thoughts about food were quickly extinguished as I heard quiet voices coming from the living room. "Anyone like a beer?" It was Bryan. A number of voices answered. It sounded like there were at least six people in the room. Surprising they made so little noise, after all, birds of a feather, and Brian was not known for his quiet demeanor. "Are you sure this is cool?" An unidentified female voice asked. "Yeah. Cal and his girlfriend are off camping somewhere or something. They won't be back 'til Monday." Usually, I take little interest in Bryan. Cal ended up being "stuck" with him as a roommate when one of his other buddies transferred to USC. His other roommate, Jake, was cool, but very shy. I don't think he'd said five words to me in the three month period I had known him. The conversation continued, but I could make out very little. Cal rustled in the bed next to me. "Shhhh," I whispered. No response. I sat up and leaned closer to the door. A faint beam of light shone through the pale shade on the window. I rolled over and took in Serena's body, looking radiant as ever. The redness caused by the sunburn had already started to fade, and she looked stunning. About that time, I realized that I had once again stolen the sheets, leaving her with no cover. Her placid face showed no indication of being disturbed by that fact, so I continued to take in her body. Moving to my side, I gasped slightly as my sunburned skin stretched over my shoulders. Serena opened her eyes. "Hi there." "Hey." "Sleep well?" she asked, leaning forward to kiss me. "Okay..." "What time is it?" "Little before 7:00." "Get enough sleep," she asked with a grin. "Nope. I think I'll sleep for another three days," I said, yawning jokingly. "Wanna go get some breakfast? My treat." "Sure. We can go get some more aloe while we're out. Hey, wanna play some golf today?" I admired Cal's butt as he teed up his ball. "Lock and load," he said as he lined up his shot. With a fluid swing, Cal drove the ball down the fairway. The ball began to drift right and landed behind a large pine tree. "Damn." "Better luck next time," I said to him with a smirk as he turned around. I walked past him to the tee box and patted his rear as he passed. Glancing over my shoulder as I bent down to place my tee in the ground, I noticed he was checking me out. "Cut that out, pervert." He stuck his tongue out at me. I connected with the ball with a swoosh and thwack sound. It carried straight down the middle of the fairway. "Lucky shot." "Jealous?" "Hmmph," he responded. We hopped in the electric cart and Cal began to crazily speed down the hill toward our balls. Splashing through a puddle, he skidded to a stop in front of my ball. "Seven?" I asked. Serena sat across the table from me. I was totaling our scores. "98," I said. "Not bad. How did I do?" "That's your score." "Really?! I broke a hundred?" "Yep." "What did you get?" "89." "Wow." The rain started up again as we climbed into my car. An ominous cloud overhead signaled a much larger storm than the one we had battled on the golf course. I peered over the steering wheel and looked up. "Gonna be a nasty one." "Why don't you give us a little forecast, weatherman?" She said with a grin. "Well, Serena, here's the situation. A major storm front has moved in from the west, bringing with it lightning, high winds, and heavy rainfall. We've received reports of golf-ball sized hail from our reporting station..." I said as I tossed a golf ball her way. "Go on," she said as she caught the ball. "The National Weather Service has issued a severe thunderstorm warning for the following counties..." "All you need now is a schtick." "How?" "You need to be one of those goofy guys who wear a bowtie or something. You know the type." "You're saying I can't get by on my good looks?" "Maybe," she said, running her hand through my hair. "Hey. You want to go chase tornadoes with me this summer?" "What?" "I'm going to sign up for a 'special topics' course. One of the things you can do is go chase tornadoes, then write a paper about it." "You've got to be joking." "Come on, it'll be fun. Driving all day, then spending the night in some podunk midwestern town, then driving some more." "Ughh. Honestly, Cal, I think you should have stuck it out in the Geography department." "Please. Meteorology is far more exciting than geography. Besides, I'm graduating at the end of the semester this way." "Were you serious about hail? I need to go put my car in the garage." I started the car. Why did you keep the mousetrap? Why did you keep the dishrack? These things used to be mine I guess they still are, I want them back We sang along together. Broke into the old apartment Forty-two steps from the street Crooked landing, crooked landlord "Oh! I've got a story to tell you!" We were sitting on the couch, having finished a dinner of spaghetti and french bread. I broke my gaze from the baseball game and looked into Serena's eyes. "Shoot." "Your roommates aren't going to be home for a while, are they?" "Bryan is at home, shouldn't be back till tomorrow, and I think Jake is on a date." "Really?" "Yep." "Who with?" "I don't know. Some girl..." "You haven't seen her?" "No. Now, please, tell me your story. I'm on the edge of my seat." She hit me with a pillow, then began. "Last night, after we fell asleep, I heard Bryan come in with a bunch of people." "Who?" "I don't know. Let me finish. Anyway, they were apparently coming back from some party or something, cause they all sounded a little tipsy. So Bryan starts talking about some game. He was explaining the rules to everyone." "A game? Like a card game?" "A board game, I think. I'm not sure. So, they're all being really quiet, which I thought was odd." "Especially coming from Bryan and his crew." "So I crawled over to the door so I could hear better." "Snoop." "Shut up. Anyway, they were just kind of talking and joking around for a few minutes. I was about to give up at that point, but I decided to stick it out for a couple of more minutes. I guess at that point I fell asleep for a second, because..." "You fell asleep? In the middle of all this excitement?" I asked sarcastically. Serena glared at me. "Do you want me to finish?" "Yes, please. I'm sorry." "Anyway, I fell asleep, but I woke up again, because there was this big crash." "A crash..." "Yeah. It sounded like someone had picked someone else up, but dropped them." "Ouch." "Yeah. So anyway, they started talking. They were arguing about what someone had to do if they failed a task. So apparently, the person's punishment was to tell their most embarrassing experience. It was a girl, and she was really quiet. I couldn't hear what she said. So apparently, they moved on to the next round of the game or something. I heard Bryan describe it as 'embarrassing or sexual, but not too personal, but with no contact' or something like that." "Hmm, this is starting to get interesting." "Yeah. So Bryan offers everyone another beer. I guess most of them took one, but anyway, they kept playing the game. The next person had to talk about pornography for 30 seconds without saying the word magazine." "Did he do it?" "She. Yes. She talked about porn on the internet. Stories, pictures, all that. She sounded pretty knowledgeable. Anyway, they kept going like that, someone had to talk about lingerie with out saying the word silk. Someone else had to use a condom in a non-sexual way." "How'd they do it." "Don't know.""I think he blew it into a balloon." "How unimaginative." "Yeah. So, then they moved to the next round. Bryan described it as 'sexual, mildly personal with contact.'" "The plot thickens." "The first person had to eat a banana in a provocative manner. Everyone was laughing. I'm not sure if that means she did a good job or not. The next person had to describe three sexual positions." "Which ones did they do?" "He, I think it was Bryan, said missionary, doggie style and cowboy." "Okay." "Okay, so the next person had to describe the sexiest piece of underwear they had. It was the quiet girl again, so I couldn't hear what she said." "Bummer." Serena looked at me questioningly. "Bet the quiet girl is hot," I said with a knowing grin. "How would you know?" "I don't. I'm just giving you a hard time," I said, nudging her in the ribs. "You're this close to not hearing the good part, wiseguy." "Sorry. Continue." "Okay, so they moved to the next round." "What did Bryan call that one?" "Don't know. Someone was making a racket in the kitchen. I'm surprised they didn't wake you. Anyway, I heard something about embarrassing. So the first person has to describe a sexual fantasy." "And?" I was getting into this. "It was the quiet girl again." "How did it get to be her turn again?" I asked, mildly annoyed. "Hell if I know. Anyway, the next guy had to rank the girls in the room by how well he thought they kissed. The next person was a girl named Jen, and she had to rank the guys on how nice she thought their butts were." "Did they verify this?" "No, that comes later." I did a double take. "Yeah. So anyway, by this time, there's lots of giggling and whispering. The next guy had to pose in a compromising position for a picture with one of the girls." "What did they do?" "I don't know, but by this point, I was getting pretty curious. They started laughing pretty loud, so I moved the chair out from under your doorknob and opened the door a little bit. They were all sitting in a circle on the living room floor. It was kind of dark, but I could make out Bryan, that guy he was with the other day..." "Jeremy." "Yeah, and one other guy. Then there were three girls. Anyway, they moved on to the next round. Bryan described it as sexual, tough and personal." I nodded my head. "Quit smirking you pervert." "Who was watching?" "Shut up. Bryan is next. One of the girls asks him to tell everyone the color of his underwear, and prove it. Bryan jumps up and drops his pants, he was wearing blue boxer shorts. So Bryan tells one of the girls... I think it was Jen... that she has to remove her bra without removing her shirt. She did it, then asked one of the other girls to educate the room about the basics of safe sex. One of the guys had to guess the color of one of the girls' underwear, but he was wrong so he had to take off his pants. The last guy had to demonstrate a sexual position with the quiet girl." "What did he do?" "Doggie style," Serena said with a smirk. "What next?" "The last girl had to put on a blindfold, kiss all the guys and tell who was who." "Did she get them all right?" "Of course not. She got them all wrong. She had to do one of the things from the next round." "What did Bryan call that round?" "I don't think he had a name for it, but he said something about the game being for all the marbles from then on. Anyway, the guys all got together to pick out her punishment." "And?" "She had to take off her clothes for the rest of the game." "All of them?" "No, she left her underwear on. So Bryan was next, and the quiet girl told him to rank the girls in the room by how nice he thought their boobs were." "And?" "And what?" "How did the rankings go?" "Jen came in first. I couldn't hear the other two names." I nodded appreciatively. Jen was definitely a knockout. "What next?" I asked. "Okay, so Bryan ranked the girls... Oh yeah, Jen had to rank the guys on how big she thought their dicks were." "I don't want to know." "Of course. Anyway, one of the guys had to french kiss one of the girls. Then they moved to the next round. For the first one, the quiet girl had to rank the guys on how big she thought they were, but then she had to verify it." "Wow." "Yeah. So, she lined them up, and they had to drop their pants. I couldn't see much, unfortunately, but Jake's was the biggest. Then the boy with no name had to do the same for the girls' boobs. Jen ended up being the winner, although from what I saw of the other two, they weren't bad either." "Not as nice as yours though." "Of course not. Anyway, Bryan was saying that they technically were going to the next round, but it became mostly a free for all after that." "What do you mean? An orgy?" "Umm, yeah, I guess." "Holy shit." "Bryan had to look at the girls' breasts, then identify them with his eyes closed. Then Jake played with the quiet girl's crotch." "While she still had clothes on..." "Nope." "Wow." "Jen had to pick two other people and have a threesome." "Oh my god." "After that, the game pretty much ended." "I could imagine." "I think you already are," Serena said, glancing down at my bulging crotch. "You had to tell the story. So what happened next?" "Well, for a minute, everyone was kind of making out and stuff, but then Bryan said he had one more challenge for Jen." "What was it?" "She had to lay perfectly still and quiet while he sucked her off." "Did she do it?" "For about a minute. Then she couldn't take any more and wrapped her legs around Bryan and pulled him down. I couldn't see much because they were behind the coffee table, but she was definitely not being silent." "So everyone just got it on right in the middle of the living room floor?" "Not everyone. Jake and one of the girls did it on this couch." "Uhh." "Pretty good story, huh? And it's all true." "That's it? You're just going to leave me hanging. No gory details about screaming orgasms or flying cum?" "Gross." "You wouldn't make a very good sex story writer." "I like to do real stories." "Not even a little detail?" "Okay." "Well?" "Jake has a huge cock." "Oh." "Jen's boobs aren't nearly as nice as mine." I nodded. "Oh, and the quiet girl ain't all that." I got up to go to the bathroom. Cal was staring into space. The muted TV flickered, showing an image of Larry Walker crossing home plate after hitting a game winning home run. Walking back into the living room after relieving myself, I stood in front of Cal, interrupting his daydream. "Want to go get a movie?" I asked. "Sure," he said, finally looking up at me. "What are you in the mood for?" "Something funny." "The Rockies won." "Really?" "Yeah, they just had the highlights on," I said, pointing to the TV, which showed an image of Kenny Mayne and Dan Patrick. "8-6. Larry Walker hit a grand slam in the bottom of the ninth." CHAPTER FOUR I sipped my beer, then glanced over my shoulder at the massive scoreboard. The count was full to Larry Walker, the Rockies were down by two with two outs in the ninth. "Come on Larry!" The crowd groaned as Larry grounded the ball weakly back to Rod Beck. As Beck threw to first, I turned to Devon. "We should do this more often." "Yeah, it's no problem for me to fly in from Kansas City to watch a baseball game." Devon was my best buddy from high school. It had been his idea to meet up in Denver to watch our favorite team in person. I took another sip of beer and smiled. "Well it's no big deal for me, either. How about next weekend?" "Alrighty. It's a deal then. Should we get tickets now?" "How about for tomorrow, instead?" "That sounds better. We're leaving Monday morning?" "Yeah." "Game's at 1:30?" "Yeah. We'll have to buy off the street again. I'm guessing it'll be sold out. Besides, even with the crappiest seats, we can move down here," I said, motioning to the mezzanine beyond the left field bleachers. "True. Want to go hit the bars?" "Never can have too much beer." I sighed. The Rockies had lost again and I hadn't seen Cal. It's a bit much to expect to see someone at a ballgame, I guess. I flipped off the TV and got up from the couch. Walking into the bedroom, I grabbed the cordless phone and dialed Dana's number. "Hello?" "Hey. I was just wondering how long you were going to be up. I need to pick up the last of my stuff." "I'm gonna be up for a while. Do you need any help? Company?" "Yeah, I guess I could use some company. Want to come watch a movie or something?" "Sure. When's Cal gonna be back?" "Not for another three weeks. He's in Denver this weekend, but him and his friend Devon are going to take off for Oklahoma on Monday." "How's he going to afford this little safari?" "He got a grant or something." "Didn't he graduate? Shouldn't he be getting a job or something?" "No kidding. I just hope he doesn't make this tornado chasing thing some kind of career." "Ughh. So how's it feel to live with a boy instead of me?" "I hardly know." "True..." "Anyway, I'll be over in a minute." "Okay." "I'm glad you had the foresight to take a cab to the ballgame," I said, slightly slurring my words. "I've got everything under control," said Devon, raising his glass. "To tornadoes." "To tornadoes." CHAPTER FOUR, TO BE CONTINUED...

Part One

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11467.txt

deirdre

Other

"And you think he *wants* you to suffer!?" Just silliness. Jeff is definitely one of those guys who thinks he's God's Gift to Women. But he makes me laugh. And he knows *exactly* what he's saying--he pokes fun at himself, but at the same time, he really *means* every word. Here he was, talking about *me* suffering because I can't have *him*. And that my husband Wes would never want me to suffer, therefore I should cheat! "You think you're so smart," I said. I *knew* I wasn't hiding my smile very well. He's just so damn *cute*. "Oh, you don't know how much you *hurt* me," he said in mock anguish. Suddenly he kissed me! Then he was gone. I stood there, looking after him. The devil. I *should* be angrier at him than I felt. I could tell that he could have *easily* led me further from the straight-and-narrow than this risque conversation and quick kiss. Did he know that? Of course he did! Well, in all probability, yes; he was entirely too adept at these matters. I realized that I should be *much* more careful with him--and with myself. And the next day, there he was asking me to take pity on him again. I couldn't really escape him, living next door. But I was more guarded, and fortunately he didn't seem inclined to press me harder than during our previous meeting. "Are you *sure* Wes doesn't want to see you happy?" "I'm happy with *Wes*!" I said, stupidly taking up his game. "We've *got* to *convince* him." More of his mock seriousness. "Of *what*?" "To let us have our moment together. It was *meant* to be!" I laughed at him. Later, once again, I realized that I was still playing into his hand. What should I do? It seemed any time I engaged him in conversation, he could twist it to something we shouldn't be talking about. Did I have to ignore him? To act like I didn't see or hear him? I looked at Wes that night as he watched TV. What would he think? If it were me, I'd explode! No, I'd never seen Wes get jealous or angry like that, but he couldn't possibly know what Jeff was like. I just *knew* Wes. I *knew* how he would react--I was sure of my instincts. The next day I got home from shopping, and Jeff met me at my own door! He put his fingers to his lips, then said "Come here!" He grabbed my arm and pulled me inside and through my house, but stopped in the front hall long enough to whisper "Stay absolutely quiet." I noticed he was keeping his footsteps quiet and something made me copy him. He pulled me through the house toward our bedroom. Why was I doing this? I don't know... there was something strange: he seemed so serious when usually he always seemed to be grinning inside. Finally, we stood in the bedroom. I stared. Wes was there. He was sitting in our rocker. Blindfolded. And his arms were tied to the arms of the chair. His fly was open and his cock was hanging out! Jeff left me standing at the door, and was over by Wes! Wes's legs were tied to the front legs of the rocker. All the tying was done with clothes: sleeves of shirts and things. "OK, Wesley, how're you doing?" asked Jeff, finally. Wes didn't answer. Jeff's hand went right to Wes's cock! He started playing with it. Finally Jeff went on: "What were you thinking about while you waited for me, Wesley?" Nothing. "Did you think about Candy?" "Yes." Candy!? "Did you think about Candy sucking your cock?" "Uh, yes." Who was Candy? Jeff continued to play with Wes's cock, slowly squeezing, and moving it this way and that. Jeff glanced back at me, and seeing my expression, nodded at the bed. There was a magazine on the bed, laying open. There were pictures of a naked blonde, lying on the floor, sitting in a chair, standing outside next to a palm tree. The captions referred to "Candy". I flipped to the next page and it showed Candy kissing another naked woman. I quickly flipped it back! "You *like* that Candy, don't you?" continued Jeff. "Uh, yes," came Wes's answer. "The way she looks, naked like that. You'd like to fuck her, wouldn't you?" "Yes!" I noticed that Wes was getting a little hard! Jeff didn't answer right away, but just kept playing with Wes's cock. Finally he said: "Let's get you on the bed." He untied Wes's hands, then tied them together in front of him. Then he untied his legs and pulled him to standing and over to the bed. Soon he had him tied to the bed, on his back, his arms pulled to the bedposts, still blindfolded. Then he pulled off his pants and underpants and soon he had his legs tied too, leaving him spread-eagled and naked from the waist down. "What do you think?" Jeff whispered in my ear. I didn't answer. Then he pulled me to the foot of the bed and pushed me 'til I was sitting between Wes's legs. Then he leaned over and whispered in my ear: "Touch his cock." I stared at Wes, lying there. "Do it," added Jeff, still whispering softly. I did it. I started handling it just like Jeff had been doing. Jeff was sort of half on the bed, behind me, his face right next to mine. "You like that?" he said out loud. Wes didn't say anything, and Jeff laughed. "Would you like Candy to touch it like this?" Still no answer. "How about Gina?" Me! "You'd like Gina to touch you like this, wouldn't you, Wesley?" "Yes!" "You want to suck my cock?" continued Jeff. "No!" came Wes's answer. "You'd *like* sucking it, wouldn't you?" "No!" I was still touching Wes. But now, Jeff had his fingers on my clothes! He was unbuttoning buttons! "But you'll suck it, won't you?" Wes didn't answer. He just lay there. My pants were undone and Jeff was pulling them down! Then Jeff spoke again: "You like a cock in your ass?" "No!" Now Jeff was touching me! I was wet."Will you take mine?" Nothing: Wes didn't answer. "Wesley, will you let me fuck your ass?" Still no answer! I stared. "How about Gina? Will you let me touch Gina? While she touches you like this?" I was still handling Wes's cock. He didn't answer. Jeff continued to finger me. "Come on, Wesley, what do you think? Will you let me *fuck* Gina while she does this?" Right when he said *fuck*, he plunged into me! "No!" "Yes, you will, won't you Wesley?" He was sliding in and out, silently, but enough to drive me crazy! I don't know how I kept quiet. "Wouldn't you like Gina and Candy here? Candy sitting on your face? Gina kissing her? Wouldn't you like to see them sixty-nine?" No answer. "I *know* you would." "Yes!" Jeff was still fucking me. I couldn't stand it! "Wouldn't you like me to fuck Gina? While Candy makes you eat her?" "Yes!" "Gina would like my cock, wouldn't she?" No answer. "Wouldn't she like to see me do your ass?" Still no answer, but Jeff whispered in my ear: "Push your finger into his ass. Don't stop playing with his cock!" I ended up leaning on both elbows--I don't know how I managed. I got my finger in. "You *like* that, don't you Wesley?" Wes had been getting harder, but now he was rock solid. I was right there, and I thought about taking it right in my mouth. As if he read my mind, Jeff whispered in my ear "Don't suck it." Then he spoke out loud: "You like that finger, don't you? You're ready for a cock, aren't you?" "Yes!" "You want my cock in your ass?" "Yes!" "Hard?" "Yes!" Jeff was still managing to fuck me and I was on the verge. "I'd rather fuck Gina. You want me to fuck Gina hard?" "Yes!" It was too much for me to bear and it happened, right then. I must have stopped doing Wes's cock for a moment while I felt it pass through me. I felt Jeff spurting into me. Wes came too, spraying his own shirt. "Don't stop fingering him," came Jeff's whisper. Then in a minute, he was pulling me away from Wes. I was standing, and I silently got my pants on again. Jeff was dressed too, and he went and untied Wes's hands. "Don't take off the blindfold," he said. Soon he had Wes's legs undone too. "Roll over and pull your cheeks apart," said Jeff. Wes did it, lying there on his stomach, holding his cheeks! Jeff laughed. "Not today! Roll back on your back and play with yourself." Wes was doing that as Jeff pulled me out of the room. "Don't stop" Jeff said to him as we left. "I guess he *does* want you to enjoy yourself," he whispered in my ear when we were clear. Then he was kissing me. His tongue invaded my mouth. "OK, I'm going now," he whispered when he finally broke it. I stood there, feeling like I was about to faint. "Now go back in there, and 'catch' him masturbating." And he was gone.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/15252.txt

REAVAN

RUTH'S UNITY SEX

"Tell me Ruth, what's Sandy like?" "Mistress Sandy is five feet ten, lean and strong-bodied, raven-haired with olive skin and forty-two years old. She's handsome rather than pretty, with a firm jaw, a wide strong brow, and hypnotic dark eyes. She used to be Elaine's mistress, but they're kind of equal now. If you're Elaine's sub, then you belong to Sandy as well." "What about Unity, what's she like?" "I'm not allowed to tell you anything about Unity. Sandy absolutely forbids that, it's something you must experience personally." "She must be something else then?" "Please don't prod me, Missy. I can't talk about it." I smiled happily, picturing Unity in my mind. Sandy's girl Unity is not a girl, she's two - Kylie and Meredith. They're the sweetest pair of five-foot-two, twenty-year-olds you could imagine. They are not related, but you would swear they were sisters. Sandy has them refer to each other as sister subs. They have close to the same body shape: nice legs, prominent rear ends, and small perky breasts. Their faces are different - Kylie has wide cheeks, and Meredith has a slimmer face. Their eyes are dark blue and... 'dreamy'. They both have dark brown hair; Kylie's is short, and Meredith's is long. To me, there is only one way to describe them - 'adorable'. To Sandy, they're one sexual unit, never to be separated. She rarely calls them by their names, just 'Unity'. They're always touching, caressing, or hugging each other. Sandy encourages that, though she doesn't allow them to touch sexually, unless they're told to do so. The girls genuinely love each other, and they seem to love their mistress with one mind. Sandy, a married closet lesbian, met the girls about a year ago. They'd just started college and were renting a small apartment in a building that Sandy and her husband own. He spends a lot of time traveling in his business, leaving Sandy to look after the rental properties and "her extramarital affairs". The girls had been friends since their first year in high school, but it was a non-sexual friendship, until Sandy somehow seduced both of them. They arrived half an hour late, which was normal for Sandy. I told Doris that since this was her first time, she had to remain in the living room on her knees while I answered the door. I let them into the foyer, Sandy kissed me as usual, and then let me undress the girls. That was only a matter of removing their knee-length dresses, shoes, and white socks. They were not allowed to wear anything else when Sandy took them out for sex. She told Unity to stay behind, and I followed her into the living room. Doris smiled expectantly at her new mistress. Sandy said nothing, just motioned for her to rise and then step up on a footstool. She walked around her, studying her body critically. "What's your name and age, wench?" Sandy said while standing behind her. "Doris, Mistress, I'm nineteen," she spoke nervously. Sandy had that effect on people when they didn't know her. She forced one hand between Doris's thighs and cupped her vagina, probably pushing her thumb hard against the anus. She is strong and lifted Doris's body, forcing her up on her toes. Doris gasped in surprise. She let her down again and put one hand on her stomach. Suddenly, she tore her hand away from her crotch and slapped her ass three times. Just as quickly, she let go, spun her around, threw one arm around her waist, one hand behind her head, and drew her tight, French kissing her fiercely. She then just as suddenly let go and stepped back two feet. "Speak to your mistress, wench!" "Tha..nk ... you ... mi.. Mistress," Doris spoke haltingly, catching her breath. She was obviously surprised but at the same time turned on. Her eyes shone eagerly, and her chest heaved rapidly, while she waited for more. Sandy, not taking her eyes off Doris, spoke to me. "Bring in Unity, Ruth." I left quickly for the foyer. They were standing, as we had left them, waiting obediently, with their arms around each other. I took Meredith's hand and led them into the living room. Doris's eyes nearly came out of her head. The girls smiled sweetly at her, cocking their pretty heads coyly. "Unity, this is Doris, your new sister sub, and Doris, this is Unity, my personal sub." She moved in between them, facing Doris. "Undress me, Unity, I'm going to fuck Doris." The girls undressed their mistress slowly, without letting go of each other, handing me her clothing. Doris was getting hotter by the minute, her breathing becoming palpitating. Sandy kept eye contact with her, and the girls continued to smile sweetly, eyeing Doris's body and blowing her seductive kisses. When she was naked, Sandy embraced and kissed them while they gyrated and rubbed their bodies against hers. After a minute or so, she told them to stand back, which they did reluctantly. Sandy approached Doris and gently embraced her. Doris's body was trembling with anticipation as she put her arms around Sandy's neck, opening her mouth wide, moaning with pleasure. They kissed and fondled each other passionately for a few minutes while we watched. Sandy finally sat on the couch with Doris on her lap, motioning for the three of us to stand and watch in front of them. The girls stood with their arms around each other. "Unity," she said, "I want you to submit to Ruth, as you would to me. Kiss, and then offer your body to her." They turned, embracing, feeling each other's behinds, while looking into each other's eyes for a few seconds. Closing their eyes, their lips met in a soft, gentle kiss. Separating again, breathing deeply, lips slightly parted, they turned their faces towards me. Still breathing heavily, they turned their bodies, hugging each other with one arm, while caressing their thighs seductively. Their minds were now totally focused on submitting to my every desire; eyes sparkling with devotion, love, and a seemingly desperate desire to have that love returned. I have a lot in common with the two girls, being timid and submissive like them. I always sensed that they loved me very much. We were not allowed to express our feelings toward each other, but some things do not have to be said. It was a total change for us, from the more demanding ways of our mistress's. They were, of course, well aware of the special relationship that Unity and I had developed, and matching us up were like granting a special reward. It was for me, and I'm sure for Unity as well. Both of them loved to fondle and dig their fingers into my ample soft flesh. They waited for my pleasure. I reached out, and they walked into my embrace; reaching their free arms around my waist, their lips pursed, begging to be kissed. Pressing them into my breasts, I kissed Kylie first while Meredith blew in her sister's ear. They both cooed with pleasure, while pressing their bodies against mine. I switched to Meredith's lips and French kissed her while I pressed Kylie's head down to my breast. She sucked gently on my nipple, while at the same time wrapping one leg around my thigh, churning her hairy mound against my flesh. I switched lips again, and now Meredith also pressed her pussy into my thigh. I was in seventh heaven, while we continued to kiss, caress, and fondle each other affectionately. Sandy watched us out of the corner of one eye while necking with and fondling Doris. "Ruth, my dear, I want you to spank Unity now!" I was kissing Kylie and told her to position her sister. Meredith immediately turned and bent over. Kylie leaned over from one side and held her by the hips. She looked at her sister's protruding cheeks and then smiled up at me invitingly. I kissed Kylie, squeezing her ass with one hand, and went on to give Meredith ten loud slaps. When I finished, she straightened up and threw her arms around me. She dug her fingers into my ass cheeks, kissing me passionately, while Kylie lovingly caressed and kissed her reddened cheeks. Kylie then eagerly presented her buns, and I repeated the process on her. She rewarded me with a long sucking kiss, as Meredith licked and kissed her hot ass cheeks. "Do it again, Ruth, I love the sound of Unity's flesh being spanked. This time, sit on that straight chair and put her over your lap. I want to hear it forty times on her ass, loud and clear!" Meredith draped her body over my lap as I sat down. Kylie immediately fell to her knees, stroking her sister's back and thighs and smiling at me. I kneaded and fondled the cheeks presented to me and bent over, kissing Kylie's inviting lips. Straightening up again, I lifted one hand, preparing to let it go as Kylie caressed her sister, alternating her dreamy eyes between the cheeks and my face.The three of us stopped breathing momentarily as my slightly cupped hand smacked one cheek. Kylie counted to twenty as my hand pounded her sister's ass. They quickly changed places, and Meridith counted twenty on Kylie's ass. I let Kylie know that she was the first half of Unity to make love to me. Meridith kissed her sister's reddened ass and helped her up. There was no jealousy between these girls. Each of them truly enjoyed the others' pleasure as her own. I got on my back with Kylie in the sixty-nine position on top of me. Meridith knelt next to us and continued to caress her sister's body. We began licking each other first around the pubes and then little by little, closer and closer to the inner lips and clits. I came almost instantly, while it took her a little longer as she sucked on my juices. Soon she drowned my face with her delicious cum, and we just lay there for a few minutes enjoying the rush. Meridith was next and eagerly helped her sister off my body. I allowed them to hug and kiss for a few minutes. It was a sweet sight to see Meridith lovingly lick and kiss her sister's cum-soaked face, while they stroked and massaged each other. Without me saying anything, they kissed passionately, and then Kylie helped Meridith lie down on top of me, guiding her thighs carefully around my face. Kylie smiled at me sweetly as she kissed her sisters' buns. She watched happily as my tongue began to titillate the horny girl's vagina, smiling seductively, as if her pussy was still in my face. Both girls moaned as Meridith climaxed, as if they were both being licked. I came a few seconds later while my mouth was filling with her sweet juices. I then made them lie on either side, half on top of me. We then kissed gently, sharing the juices we had sucked out of each other. I looked up at the couch where Sandy and Doris were eating each other. Doris, by the sounds she made, had come twice, but her tongue was still working on Sandy's throbbing vagina. Suddenly Sandy's pelvis began to move violently, and her thighs clamped tight around Doris's head. She wailed in her usual high pitch while her climax lasted, digging her fingernails in the firm ass above her. She then relaxed her body and began to breathe slowly. I knew from experience that her long pointed tongue was deep in Doris's hole. She always kept it there until her rush was completely over. We continued to kiss and suck gently until Sandy came off her rush and told us to separate. Doris got up while Unity crawled on "four knees and two hands" to her mistress. Sandy, still lying on the couch, embraced Unity and kissed her gently. "Did you make Ruth cum, sweetheart?" "Yes Mistress," they answered in unison. "Ruth always does." "Did Ruth satisfy my Unity completely?" "Yes, mistress, I climaxed, twice." Three sets of lips kissed noisily while Doris and I watched. We cleaned up and had a snack and then watched a movie. Near the end of the movie, the doorbell rang. I put on a housecoat and answered the door. "Hi, you must be Ruth. My name is Linda. Elaine told me to report here tonight." I let her in and closed the door. This was one of Elaine's surprises. You never knew what she would do next. "Yes, I'm Ruth. What did Elaine say you would be doing here?" She looked nervous and unsure of herself. "I met Elaine two weeks ago. She spent a night in my apartment. She told me then that she would like me to be her sub and that she already had one. I wasn't sure then, but I called her two days ago and said that I was ready. She told me to come here tonight, as long as I would be totally submissive to whoever was here. I know she is not here. She told me that. I feel... as... I'm in a trance." She closed her eyes, breathing deeply. I told her to wait and went back in the living room, explaining the situation to Sandy. She ordered Unity and Doris to stay as they were naked and not to pay attention to Linda when she came in. I was then told to bring her in fully dressed. "OK, Linda, you can come in, but you are not allowed to speak. I'll show you where to stand. Don't move until the mistress orders you to." She nodded nervously and followed me. I left her standing inside the door and removed my housecoat, sitting on the floor again to watch the rest of the movie. When the movie was over, we all turned our eyes to the new sub. She smiled apprehensively, eager to speak but held her tongue. Sandy gave her the usual 'new sub' fierce stare and pointed to a spot on the floor, in front of her. She nearly tripped as she walked awkwardly to the designated spot. "Name and age!" Sandy spoke harshly and mechanically. "Linda, Mistress, and... I'm... Twenty-two, almost... twenty-three, in three weeks, Mistress." She looked ready to cry. "How many lesbian experiences have you had!" Sandy spoke, faking a yawn to unnerve her further. "One, mistress; only once... with Elaine." She trembled a bit as she answered the question. "What about men, how many and do you like male's fucking you?" "Three... Mistress, since I was eighteen. I never felt a climax with another person until... Elaine... did it to me. It was wonderful." Sandy got up and immediately lifted Linda's halter top, exposing a set of slightly drooping tits, probably C cups or better. She fondled them gently, looking her in the eyes. Linda's breathing quickened when Sandy suddenly squeezed them hard and then stepped back three steps. She crossed her arms and stared at her critically. "Lift your skirt, wench!" Sandy loves that term. She closed her eyes and lifted it gingerly, showing her nicely rounded hips, thighs, and a shaven pussy. "Who gave you permission to shave?" "Elaine, Mistress, she said I had to shave before coming over tonight. I did it an hour ago, for the first time." "Turn around, wench, and show me your ass! Ruth, undress her!" I removed her clothes quickly as Sandy sat down and scrutinized her naked body. "Bend over and grip your ankles!" Her long blond hair touched the floor as she exposed her crotch to everyone. "Spread your feet out more. That's better. Now, you tell me that you have only had one woman's tongue in that crotch. Is that right?" "Yes, mistress, just Elaine." "Do you masturbate, if so how often and when did you start?" "Well... Yes... Mistress... almost every day since I was twelve. Sometimes once; sometimes four or five times." "How many subs in this room would like to eat Linda's pussy?" Four eager hands rose. "Well now, only one experience until today and in the next hour maybe five more. What do you think about that, Linda?" "I'll do anything you say, Mistress, anything." "You can stand up now and come here." Sandy pointed at the floor in front of her, and she obediently got on her knees. "Kiss my feet, wench?" She eagerly did as she was told, passionately kissing both feet until Sandy ordered her to sit up. She then French kissed her, while fondling her tits, and then suddenly stopped. "Now, my little wench, it's time for you to watch Ruth cum. I was ordered up to present my ass for a spanking. Linda was told to get on her back and hold herself up with her hands on the floor, her head between my thighs. I was then told to grasp her tits. "That looks really good, girls. You're not allowed to lick her, Linda, just look at her pussy. OK, Doris, you know what to do with Ruth's ass, right?" "Oh yes, mistress, I certainly do." She got into position and started to whack my flesh. Linda had no idea what was coming, as I squeezed her head between my thighs. It wasn't long before I began to moan, feeling my climax approaching. "Open wide, Linda, really wide; as wide as you can. That's good. Now cover Ruth's vagina with your mouth, that's it." I felt her wide-open mouth pushed against my pussy, assisted by Sandy's hand, as I unleashed the flood of pleasure. I yelled ecstatically as Doris pounded my cheeks and Sandy told Linda to suck and swallow my juices. She sputtered a bit from the sheer volume but managed to catch her air. I stepped away and let her straighten up. She turned her head, looking at me with a stunned look, her mouth open. "You... came when she spanked you, I didn't even get to lick..." She shook her head. "How?" I just smiled at her and knelt, kissing Sandy's feet. "Linda, who gave you permission to speak?" Sandy spoke firmly, like a mother correcting her child. "Perhaps you need a little discipline?" She fell down next to me, kissing Sandy's feet. "Well, answer me, wench!" "I'm sorry, mistress. I won't make that mistake again. Please punish me." "Get up, turn around and bend over. Ruth, take the position she just had but lick the wench's twat." She closed her thighs around my head and clutched my breasts as I began to lick her pussy. Then Sandy ordered Unity to spank her. They alternated their whacks, forcing her body to twist as my tongue wiggled deep inside her delicious orifice. She began to shiver while moaning quietly in short bursts. The shiver turned spasmodic as her pelvis churned violently with the whacks. Her moans became one loud squeal, and then her body went limp. Sandy ordered Unity to stop while Linda moaned quietly with a crying sound, while breathing softly. I lowered my body and motioned for her to kiss Sandy's feet. She lowered herself slowly, nearly losing her balance, behaving almost as if she was drunk. She kissed Sandy's feet sluggishly, still breathing deeply. "Sandy made her sit up and kissed her on the forehead. "Is there something wrong, my dear?" She shook her head. "Your eyes are dazed. Are you not feeling good?" "That was the greatest climax I've ever had, Mistress! It was unbelievable. I feel dizzy." Sandy kissed her softly on the lips. "Well now, it looks like Elaine dug up another nymph. You horny little wench, and you still have four more pussies to attend to before bedtime. It's compulsory, wench, what do you think about that?" "Please, Mistress. Just tell me what to do.""She looked around at the rest of us, on our knees smiling suggestively. "I'm in heaven, Mistress. I love my new life." "Doris, come here and sit next to me." She quickly took her seat next to her, Sandy, who put one arm around her and kissed her softly, while running her fingers through her curls. "Pull your knees up, dear, and let us have a look at your snatch. There, spread them out wide for everybody. Who would you like to lick this mound, Doris?" She kissed her again before she could answer, rubbing the body part in question. "Well?" Doris looked at Linda, bucking her pelvis eagerly, and then faced Sandy, panting like a puppy. "Get your face down there, Linda, and don't leave the table before your plate is clean." Linda moved her face gently into the wide-open crotch, licking it delicately at first. Sandy French-kissed Doris as she contentedly wrapped her arms around one and her legs around the other. I put my arm around the closest half of Unity, and we squeezed our bodies close, while watching the two women satisfying one. The show lasted about five minutes, and I don't know who got more horny, Unity and me watching or the three women moaning and licking. Doris finally reached her climax, moaning into Sandy's mouth and jerking Linda's head around with her thigh headlock. Sandy playfully pushed her to the other end of the couch, telling her that she was delaying the pussy-licking schedule. "Come on, Unity," she slapped her thighs. "Come to Mama," they scurried up on her lap, each kissing one of her cheeks. She looked at Linda's pussy-juice-soaked face, sitting on her knees waiting. "Bring up your knees, Unity, and show Linda your pussies." They cooed happily as they presented their crotches to the bewildered woman on the floor. "Unity has two pussies, Linda, finger them." She reached for the inviting pubes and caressed them. I watched enviously as she masturbated my two favored sub sisters. Kylie neared her climax first, and Sandy ordered Linda to lick her through her orgasm. Kylie corralled her licker's head with her leg and pushed it into her hot, bucking pussy. Sandy kissed her passionately as Meredith sucked on her mistress's neck. As soon as Kylie began breathing normally again, Linda was told to switch pussies, which she did in the blink of an eye. Sandy leaned back and let Unity 'French-kiss herself,' as Linda began licking her fourth pussy. Meredith came quickly, having been brought halfway there by Kylie's climax. Linda sat up and looked at her mistress, the juices dripping off her chin. "One more cunt to go, Linda," she spread her thighs wide as Unity dropped to the floor on each side of Linda. Sandy moved her ass close to the edge and draped her legs on Unity's shoulders. The girls began stroking and kissing her thighs as she reached for Linda's head and drew it into her hairy cunt, rubbing her face in it. She then held out her hand to Doris and me. We crawled up on the couch on either side of her and took turns kissing her, while massaging her body. It took probably ten minutes before the high-pitched wailing from Sandy signaled the start of her climax. Doris was French-kissing Sandy, giving me time to lean down and whisper to Linda. "Keep your tongue fully inserted and hang on tight to her hips, even if you think she is finished. She will let you know when you can remove it." The wailing got louder, and each one of us did our part to make her climax complete. She began bucking her pelvis while thrashing her limbs wildly. Doris and I each squeezed one of her tits while she squashed both our faces into hers, tonguing one and then the other. Her loud wailing turned into soft moans, and her body relaxed. Everyone continued to kiss and caress, and then suddenly the thrashing and wailing exploded again for a few seconds. Another five or ten seconds of gentle caressing, and then another wild performance. The cycle repeated itself about five or six times, with each explosion diminishing and the pauses getting longer. We continued to stroke and kiss our mistress, and after a minute or so, she opened her eyes. She kissed Doris and then me, lifting her arms away from our shoulders, letting us sit back on the couch. She lifted her legs off Unity and reached to kiss one set of lips and then the other. Finally, she reached and clasped Linda's head and pushed it away from her vagina. "Get that tongue out and put it in my mouth." She leaned toward her as Linda rose on her knees, until Linda's tongue entered Sandy's mouth. She sucked the juices of her tongue and lips, relishing the taste of her own climax. She pushed her head back a bit, kissing and licking the wet face and neck. "Would you like to do this again sometime?" She pushed Linda's head back, eyeing her quizzically. "Forever, Mistress. I want to be your sub forever, for as long as you want me. Please?" "Good, now you and Doris will sleep with me tonight, and Unity, you'll sleep with Ruth." My eyes opened wide as Unity got up and embraced me, cuddling their bodies against mine. I had never before been allowed to spend a whole night with Unity. "What's the matter, Ruth, is there not enough space in your bed for Unity?" Unity cooed sweetly as I squeezed 'her' and kissed 'both sets of lips'. "Don't worry, Mistress. 'She' won't take up hardly any space at all." FINI

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/10326.txt

Lord Malinov

Glenarvon

"I'll be keeping an eye on you," William told Caroline as they stopped at the yawning threshold of the house. Pausing deliberately, the young socialite waited on the front step while she anxiously drank in her first visions of the night's party. Still a young woman, Caroline smiled at the quick bursts of sound that erupted from within. William kept his promise as he watched his wife take a deep breath; Caroline shone with an ecstatic gleam as her blossoming sense of anticipation found delight in every detail, in the whitened brick facade of the porch, the sunlit petals of jonquils and leaves of straggling ivy, set stark on a bed of freshly planted and pungent manure, the sloping arches of inward leading doorways crowded by guests, circles of conversation spreading into the wide spaces that led from the entrance of the old world mansion. A servant, a bony-fingered man with white fuzz over the dome of his soft skull, approached silently. Caroline watched him come near, waiting patiently for the awaited refreshment. A step away, the servant presented a thin platter of glasses to offer his drinks to the newly arrived guests. The ornate silver and crystal ornament floated gently in front of Caroline's joyful gaze. Reaching forward with a quick nod of polite acknowledgement, Caroline intoned soft words of gratitude and took a tall glass from the tray. William ignored the wine as irrelevant to the question at hand, and brusquely moved past the vaporous waiter. "Where do they hide the bar?" William asked Caroline. She took a sip from her crystalline flute. William turned a full circle, searching for some sign of liquor between the trunks of the thick forest of guests. Caroline shrugged her pale shoulders, bare above the blue silk dress, shaking her head as she swallowed. "I don't know," she said, looking to the west, past a handsome young soldier with serious black eyes. "It was over there, against that wall when we was here for Emma's birthday." William lifted his thick torso up onto the tips of his toes to look over and beyond the screen of the crowd. Spying a glimpse of a chrome faucet and the green glass of good gin at some distance, William recognized his goal and took his wife by the arm. "Stay with me," he pleaded, directing her before him into the slight gap between two councilmen, each slightly angered by subtle changes in the import tax, but for different reasons. "I want to keep an eye on you tonight." "Hmph," Caroline said with an instinctual tug of her bare shoulder to escape the dominating grasp of his too-familiar and commanding fingers, splashing his sleeve with a few drops of her wine. William stopped to look disapprovingly at Caroline, his frown flickering subtly between anger and hurt until the two feelings merged in a surge of anxiety. Caroline turned away from the pangs of disappointment shining cool in his grey eyes. "You've let me spend the whole winter without you," she said suddenly, accusingly. "I think I can manage one of Kurt's parties without a chaperone." "Caroline, but I'm your husband," William said, taking the words seriously. "I'm your wife," said Caroline with resignation. "But it's only a party." William frowned, looking hurt. "I need you beside me, for guidance. How can I remember all these people's names, if you don't help? Besides, I think it only right that you stay close to me. People talk," William said, stepping close to speak the last thought privately into her ear. "And what of it?" Caroline demanded coolly. "Have you heard tales? What has your bitchy little sister been saying about me now?" "Nothing, pet, nothing at all. You know I don't listen to their prattle. I just want my wife beside me." "William, don't play games with me. You're the one who left me alone. I've made the best of it, and I hardly think it's my fault that I'm liked. Would you lock me away just because I have admirers? "Caro," said William apologetically. "Let's forget about it and enjoy the evening. I know you have admirers, and this one's going to keep an admiring eye on you," William said, smiling with a touch of self-amusement. "That's all I'm saying." "I expect to be treated with some civility," Caroline said, her voice low and serious. "So do I," William whispered as he walked past Caroline to find the bar. "Mind your manners." Caroline watched her husband sadly as the weary-looking gentleman worked his way toward a sharp-nosed fellow surrounded by liquor bottles. The two men spoke a few quiet words, and Caroline watched her husband take his first drink. As William let the glass drop from his thin, sober lips, Caroline felt the hungry eyes of another man upon her. Caroline turned cautiously, surrendering to a prey's instinct to search out and identify any predators, but the crowd behind her displayed a faceless wall of dress prints, starched linen and low silk backs. Doubly aware, Caroline turned back as she felt William's fierce stare tingle her nerves. He watched his wife possessively. Caroline caught his eyes, and William smiled back toward her weakly. He took another full glass from the bartender and wound his way back to Caroline's side. "I needed this," he said, rattling his ice cubes. Caroline touched her wine glass to his smaller bell. "I'm glad you're home," she said sweetly. "I've thought about that," William said, pushing a string of hair away from his grey eyes. "You know I have to leave again, soon." "I've grown accustomed to the idea," said Caroline, twisting her lips to express her dissatisfaction. She could feel the stare of the hunter on her naked shoulderblades, setting her senses tingling. "Perhaps I should find a way to remain at home, with you. For our sake, I mean. We could have a baby," William said with a hushed whisper. Caroline gave her husband a hopeful look and then sighed. "I know. I know," William shook his head as he continued. "I won't earn as much leaving now, but I think it might be for the best." "William," Caroline said, struggling against the distracting sensation of an unwavering glare focused on her from behind. Taking strength from William, she looked steadfast into her husband's dark eyes. "If you really want to stop working on the property legislation so you can babysit me, that's great. I'd love having you around. But think about what you can accomplish in the next six months and ask yourself if you're going to let a little jealous slander scare you into giving up. Besides, with so much family around, what are you worried about? Gretchen watches me better than you could." "Caro," said William. Caroline shuddered, feeling the predator's stare on her bare back. "We're a team," she said. "You told me you wanted someone who could work with you. I've always believed in that. You can trust me." "I know," said William, weakly. "I'm just vulnerable where you're concerned, Caroline. When I'm working, it doesn't seem like anything could possibly be wrong between us. But seeing you here, this magnificent flower surrounded by these . . . and one look at you . . . ." William stared lost as he dove into the watery blue of Caroline's eyes. "Take care of business," Caroline said, kissing William's cheek, "and I'll take care of you." "Lover," he said in a soft moan. "Love," Caroline said, catching for a second the bright eyes of an admiring stare just behind William's shoulder. Caroline took a step to one side, away from William, looking for another glimpse of the man she felt had been watching her. William followed, staying close behind Caroline, while looking for the first time at the people in the crowds around them. "There's Baker," he said with a snarl in his voice. Caroline smiled at her husband, appreciative of his warrior's thirst for battle. "Let's go pay regards to Jim Baker," he said, taking Caroline's arm. She strutted slightly as she accompanied William into the field. "I've been looking all over for you, Jim," said William with a confident cordiality that seemed to accompany him into every business foray. Caroline spoke her polite greetings to the Bakers and a very tall but round man from Maine. William held Caroline's delicate hand firmly in his fingers as he told Sylvia Baker about his darling wife. Caroline smiled and nodded. A man's bold gaze still fixed on her from behind. She could almost feel his warm breath on her bared neck. Caroline touched her exposed throat protectively and looked cautiously backward.The phantom vanished between two young lovers, Andrew Donner and Deborah Flanders, as they coyly looked away. "Once you take possession," William said emphatically, "once you legally reach out and take hold of the thing you desire, society will take care of the rest." William finally loosened his grasp on Caroline's fingers, letting her hand fall aside as he demonstrated his possessory hold. "Possession is the law," he said. "Only a thief can deprive me of my rightful hold." "But if you abandon your possession," said Baker, "we shouldn't protect anyone who allows his fields to lie fallow. An owner who refuses to work his possession should be systematically stripped of his rights." "Nonsense," shouted William. Caroline blushed and turned again to look behind, embarrassed by her husband's enthusiasm and anxious to discover the fiend who plagued her. "My rights are absolute where my property is concerned. I may have a good reason to let my farm alone, and no one should be allowed to trample my rights, trespass on my land just because some would question my strategy. A lost season shouldn't deprive me of my rights, however unwise my course may appear." "Excuse me," said Caroline as she stepped away. "Society has the greater interest," said Baker. "Certainly, pet," said William softly to Caroline before he turned back to Baker. "The economics of the system chose me as owner. Society has an obligation to protect my rights. No one should be able to impose duties on my possessory interest." Caroline slipped out from under her husband's oratory and past the young lovers until she reached the broad arches along the east wall. She found her predator, calmly waiting. "You're a pretty sight," said Byron as he leaned against the archway. "I was wondering if I'd get a closer glimpse." "They didn't tell me you would be here," said Caroline, looking nervously back to where her husband stood. William had his back turned and gestured wildly at Baker and a balding council member. "Emma persuaded me to extend my holiday. She told me I might be able to see you," Byron teased a small crimson bud he held in his hand. "My husband came home. I'm afraid I won't be dancing much this evening." "I know," Byron said. "I spoke with him on Tuesday. We're hoping he can help us with the campaign to get NorCom. Nice fellow. I don't think he cared for me, although we should still do business." "Someone's been talking to him about the birthday party. I was warned that just standing near you would cause a scandal." "Bah, they only say what they wish was true." Caroline looked back again at William. He stood quietly while the tall, heavy man spoke in low tones that turned his cheeks red. William finished his drink and looked around. In a panic, Caroline pushed back into the narrow alcove, brushing a large red and gold heraldic flag aside. "I could use some air," she said. Byron nodded with a mischievous grin and opened the door at the back wall. The fresh night hugged them both with a swirl of a breeze and the fragrant emptiness of mid-spring. Caroline leaned against the rock wall that enclosed the walkway. "Escape," said Byron. "Sometimes all life requires is an escape." "We can't get away," she said. "They can't see us here." "They can talk." "About what?" said Byron, laughing as he spoke. "I assure you, Mrs. Lamb, my life has deserved more than a few comments. But witty conversation and a few dances at a birthday party, even with a married woman, hardly justifies a raised eyebrow when measured up against my reputation." "Yes," said Caroline. "I'm not even a name in your black book. But you have to understand that just a few words with you endanger my life at the core." "You may spend your time otherwise." "No," she said. "I can't." "I don't see why not." "This," Caroline said, standing up straight to bring herself close beside Byron, a tear gleaming in her eye, "as terrible as it all seems to me, I love you." She kissed him gently. Byron put his arms around her and clasped her sobbing face to his bosom, forming a damp spot on the shoulder of his blue cotton jacket. "I love you, too," he said, his voice fading as he kissed the woman deeply. They stood still, indulging in the moment, and a door opened beyond them. Byron casually slipped from Caroline's side. She turned to face the dark oak forest that loomed toward the house and carefully wiped her damp eyes, cautious of her mascara. "What ho!" cried a lumbering fellow with his tie pulled loose, his rounded belly pressed perpetually forward. A billowing cloud of cigar smoke poured from his gaping mouth and surrounded him as he stumbled toward the garden. "I want you to see this, Jerry," he muttered, oblivious to the quiet pair in the corner. "My niece planted the berries, but I've been taking care of them." His voice remained sonorous while the big man turned behind a voluminous larch. "Don't touch Emma's plums," Migro called out. "Those are hers, Jerry. I don't want Emma accusing me of touching her fruit. I've been taking care of these over here. These are Migro's. Look at those beauties. Those are mine. Have one." "Mmm," an ecstatic moan filtered softly through the hedge. "Ain't they delicious?" the smoker asked proudly. "Let's go, somewhere else," said Byron. Caroline nodded and followed as the lean young man headed back toward the front door of the house. Caroline looked past Byron and into the surging bowels of the living party. She felt William's eyes on her, although she couldn't see him. "I'll keep a lookout," said Byron as they stood at the threshold. "Go up these stairs and then down the long hallway. Third room on the left. I'll be there in an instant." "But what if?" she said, her voice choked. "Go," said Byron with feisty encouragement. Caroline bolted up the cream-carpeted stairs, moving more quickly than she knew herself capable. She stumbled on the seventh step. "Careful," hissed Byron with a smile. The party sounded distant as Caroline walked deliberately down the long hallway. Voices lost their distinct verbal quality and turned into a steady moan of excitement and gossip mixed with the low wails of tedious boredom. The music pounded on the thick floors like a rubber mallet echoing dully with solid strokes of power against substance. Caroline tried to slow her heartbeat as she counted the wooden doors down the hallway. She turned, nervous at the thought that William stood behind her, watching. Byron slowly ascended the stairs. Pushing down the handle, Caroline opened the door to a small library. Stepping into the leather-bound vault, Caroline trembled as she leaned against a small embroidered chair. Byron pushed the door. Caroline gasped and sat down, more afraid in each passing moment. "It's all right," he said, putting a strong hand on her bare shoulder. "No one saw us." "I can't," Caroline gasped as she tried to speak. Byron knelt beside her, placing his dark curls into her silken lap. He kissed the soft fabric. "Let's linger a moment," he said. "Paradise is a hidden treasure. Our dreary lives will find us soon enough." He leaned forward to kiss Caroline lightly. "But he and they . . . ." Caroline spoke without conviction. "Are nowhere to be seen. Even a caged animal needs a few hours in the sunshine." Byron smiled greedily. Caroline stroked his black rings of hair as he kissed her breast through the silk covering. "It isn't like that," she said. His lips hardened her nipple, creating a wet circle in the shimmering fabric. "William just . . . ." Caroline stopped speaking as Byron used a strong hand to squeeze the tender flesh of her breast. A shudder of pleasure rippled through Caroline. Byron licked the stiffness under the cloth with his pointed tongue. "My dress," said Caroline, pushing Byron back. "Stop that. I can't leave like this." The boy kneeling beside her licked his lips and laughed heartily, studying the wetness that stained Caroline's tit. "Take it off," he murmured. Caroline kneaded her breasts in her hands, releasing the tension that he had built within her. "No," she said. Byron ran his hands up her stockinged thigh and lifted the hem of her dress slightly so he could kiss the creamy white flesh above the edge of her silk stocking. "Someone might see," she began. Byron reached back and locked the library door. "Take it off," he said playfully. Caroline looked at the handsome young man with a bit of offense in her eyes, but then reached back to unfasten the collar of her dress. "I'll hang it up, to dry," Caroline said. Byron nodded seriously, his gaze fixed on the descent of her dress as the white lace of her brassiere illuminated Caroline's heavy breasts. Byron bit his lip as the virginal curves of her long stomach emerged from behind the silk curtain only to be caught by the elastic waistband of her fragile panties. Caroline read the lusty compliments in Byron's eyes and smiled as a furious heartbeat stole her strength. Her pussy grew damp as she watched the man watch her. She draped her blue silk dress on the shade of a tall lamp, casting the room in an azure tint. Byron watched sternly as Caroline toyed with the back of her scanties, stretching the thin lace across the fleshy bulbs of her bottom. "Do you want me?" he asked while Caroline blushed. The bulge in his trousers twitched indecorously. "Not really," she said coyly, turning to look out the window into the garden. A couple kissed while sitting on the wall, and Caroline felt her heart float away as she touched her tingling nipple. "I mean, do you want me for a little while longer?" Byron scratched his prick gently through his trousers. "I can't promise more."I have to leave town in the morning." "Take me with you," she mumbled dreamily. Byron took Caroline in his arms and kissed her. "You're mine," he said and he took the fabric of her panties in his hands. The fragile cloth tore with a start. "Oh my God," said Caroline. Her panties jerked hard against her firm bottom and then fell into scraps in his fierce hands. Byron slipped a finger along the moist line of Caroline's pussy while he carefully shoved her torn panties into his pocket. She spread her thighs eagerly, granting his finger ingress into her folds. "Luscious bitch," he said. "I want you to show me," Caroline said between kisses, "how you would treat your woman." "I love you," Byron said dramatically as he pressed her down onto the desk, pushing a large volume of Johnson out from behind her to send it to the floor with a thud. Caroline wrapped her arms around Byron and leaned back onto the walnut surface, pulling Byron on top of her. He struggled with his belt while he bit at her lace-covered nipple. Caroline unfastened her brassiere while Byron pressed his purple-headed cock against the golden wisps of curl at the portals of her fleshy lips. Caroline screamed madly as Byron plunged inside. "Hush," he said as he began to stroke himself into Caroline's wet cunt. Caroline moaned without a semblance of inhibition, focused on the passion that had gripped her. Byron fucked her, delighted by the beauty that shuddered with each stern blow of his prick. "Good thing Emma's having a loud party," he said with a laugh. "Watch me," she said, her breasts bouncing, rosy tints added to the creamy globes. Caroline pulled Byron down hard against her and then as the hammer fell, she rolled them over, pushing Byron onto his back while she knelt above him on the walnut desk. Byron extracted a long fountain pen from his side. "Almost stabbed me," he said, holding the implement up for inspection and then tossing it to the floor. Caroline raised her hips and fell down quick along Byron's meaty shaft. "Stab!" said Caroline, rubbing her thighs as she began to assault Byron's prick. "Stab, stab, stab." Byron placed his strong hands around the flesh of her rounded bottom and pulled her harder into his ride. His bright eyes drank her beauty and he sighed. A commotion began with shouts outside the window and Caroline leapt from her mount to see what had happened. Migro of the berries stood shouting at Emma at the edge of the garden. "Uncle Migro!" Emma said, disapprovingly. "Ah, Emmy, let him have his berries," said Byron to no one, plunging into Caroline from behind. "But Byron," said Caroline, adjusting to accept the thick stroke between her legs. "It's her garden." "She ignored them. Migro made them blossom," Byron said, fucking Caroline with intensity, her curious ashen face leaning out the window. "Her garden," said Caroline, excitement welling inside her. Byron slapped her upturned bottom as he drove hard into her pussy. "Mine," he said, feeling the tremble begin inside him. Caroline let go with a sudden burst into madness and let loose an excited squeal that echoed through the garden below. Faces turned up to search the windows and Caroline dashed herself below the sill, still exploding with the washing waves of her orgasm. "Oh, shit," said Byron, spraying his thickened creamy seed over Caroline's bare shoulders and back. She looked up at the quivering man, holding his dark cock over her. "I think Gretchen saw me," Caroline said, reaching up for her dress. The pale blue light turned a harsher yellow as the fabric fell away. "Nobody saw you," Byron said, fastening his trousers. "If Gretchen saw me, I'm fucked." Caroline spat out the words as she struggled to pull the silk dress past her hips. "No one saw anything." "She's his sister. I've got to get out of here." "Does it really matter that much?" asked Byron, helping Caroline with her zipper. "William loves me," Caroline explained. "And I'm his, even if I don't love him." "And you're mine, even if I don't love you." "Beast," Caroline said, pulling at her stockings. "Did you ever doubt it?" Byron tugged at his hair, gazing into a small mirror by the door. "You told me you loved me," Caroline said as a matter of fact while she struggled with the straps of her brassiere. "Some things are said as a matter of course." "But you don't mean any of it." "Some more, some less. Caroline, I do love you, but not in the sense that he does. He's been blinded. I can still see that I want you without believing I must always have you." "You shouldn't say things like that." Caroline pulled at the door's latch. "I always speak my mind. People like to know where they stand." Byron smiled complacently and fixed his collar. "Don't you ever dream?" Caroline asked, stepping into the hallway. "I don't like to play roles," Byron said, striding confidently. The couple walked together toward the staircase. "I know," said Caroline with a quick kiss to his rosy cheek. "You're always fresh. That's what I like about you." They reached the edge of the stairs. "Life is for living," said Byron, gesturing to Caroline that he would follow her down the stairs. "You go," she said, falling back into the black tapestry that hung on the wall. "I'll follow when you're gone." "Good plan," Byron said. Caroline watched nervously as he descended to vanish into the party. William stood in the exact same spot where she'd left him, although the crowd around her oratorical husband had changed considerably. The Bakers had been exchanged for the Appleworths and the big man from Maine had gone for a thin man from the Yucatan. Caroline slipped in beside William. He took her hand and smiled. "I've been keeping an eye on you," William said as the gentleman from the Yucatan began to explain his theories on agriculture in a low, tedious voice. "I thought you were," said Caroline, blushing slightly. "Prettiest girl at the ball," he said, squeezing her hand. "And at the same time, the workers who must finish the harvest are under the complete control of the plantation bosses." "I'm tired of this," she said, feeling a spot of coolness on her bare back. Caroline reached back and touched the wetness and touched her finger to her lips. She grimaced and spat with irritation. William looked at her. "Bad wine, damn fool spilled it on me," she said. "We'll go soon," William said, putting his arm around her and kissing her neck. "I love you," he whispered. "Don't," said Caroline, pulling away gently. "It's all right," said William with a squeeze of her hand. "Beautiful. I've been watching you." Caroline felt a quiver in her stomach. Looking back, she saw the alluring figure of Byron standing by the wall, laughing as he watched. She held her husband more tightly. "I'm yours," Caroline sang in William's ear. "Forever yours. Give me a baby and stay here. Our garden needs tending." The conversation stopped while the others looked curiously at Caroline and William. "Behave yourself, Caroline," William said quietly, masking his emotions with a self-conscious smile. "We'll go soon. Now, behave yourself. You know how these people talk. We don't want to cause a scandal." Caroline sighed and leaned on William's arm as the fields of conversation required an extended harvest. She looked back, but Byron had gone. Gretchen stood talking to Emma who held up a small dark plum. "No," Caroline said to no one. "We don't want any scandals in Paradise."

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/9224.txt

Seurat

RP Seurat's Twighlight Zone: Chap. 3: Elizabeth

"Have you read these papers thoroughly, Mr. Roland? Do you understand what signing them means?" "Yes, sir." "And you, Ms. Harn, Have you read and understood these papers, and comprehend what signing them means?" "Yes, sir." "Then I need you to sign here, Mr. Roland, and here, and here." "Ms. Harn? Sign here, here and there." The two complied, then stood away from the table. "The witnesses will sign here." The notary's two companions signed, and he affixed the seal and stamp. "I'll make sure these are filed correctly. Here are your copies." Elizabeth almost shook with pleasure as she watched the notary and his companions walk to their car. John had just signed away his entire fortune to her. With this third pansy under her belt, she would be a multi-millionairess. She'd never have to work another day in her life. John turned, looked at his lover. She was everything he could have wanted in a woman. Almost six feet tall, she towered over his five-foot-eight frame when she wore her heels. Toned body, nice bust, and a face which could be modeling for years. Big blue eyes, pouting lips, and long, blonde, wavy hair that reached halfway down her back. And a virgin to boot. Not that he hadn't tried. He plied her with expensive dinners, candies, and lingerie. She said that penetration wouldn't happen until they were married. "Oh god yes...yes...Yes...YES!" Elizabeth's body shook with another orgasm, John's head nestled between her legs as he lapped away. When it came to oral pleasure, John was good. Too bad he wouldn't live long enough to stick anything else in her besides his tongue. Of the three she had dominated in the past few years, John had been the easiest. Hell, she didn't mind wearing the sexy bedwear he gave her, especially since it seemed to give her even more power over him. Made her even more desirable to him. Got him even more worked up. It was easy to dominate men if you used their sexual desires against them. "Een nn eee." The mound of hair, not her own, from between her legs spoke. She released his head. "What was that, honey?" "I said, 'I can't breathe'" Giggle. "Sorry, teddy bear." "Honey?" "Yes dear?" John stood up, the bulge in his jeans overly evident. "must be painful" she thought "good". "I was just wondering. I mean, I signed the papers and everything, and you had said...well, I was wondering if we could...make love?" "Oh honey," "Simp","I told you that it isn't proper until we're married." "and remember, I don't want you touching yourself; a man's seed should only be used for procreation. So none of that nasty masturbation." "unlike me, who's going to be sticking that big ole nasty dildo right up my cunt once you leave" "But...but...you said...How about if you...you know, gave me some oral satisfaction, like I do for you?" "Put your THING in my mouth?!" "That's disgusting!" She'd never even let him take his pants off. John looked like he was going to cry. Elizabeth lay back in bed. Three months of leading this wimp along. He must be ready to explode, after three months of nothing with her secretary Cheryl before she got hold of him. She had been stringing him along for another three months, after she had fired Cheryl, so he had to have at least six months of cum about to blow from his balls. She picked up a chocolate from the box he'd brought her, and bit it in half. "You're going to have to go." "Why?" "I've got a business deal to finish." "by sucking that super-schlong of Maxie's" "And I don't want you to be in the way." She finished the chocolate, and picked up another. "Tonight?! But we were going out to the movies to celebrate!" "I'm sorry honey, but I have to get this deal wrapped up before tomorrow." "besides, I want to climb on top of Max and fuck him like there is no tomorrow" John got a resigned look on his face, pulled his shirt back on, and started towards the bedroom door. "Tomorrow?" "I'll call." "although by then somebody will have accidentally blown up your house with you in it" She popped the chocolate into her mouth, whole. Elizabeth watched from her bedroom window as John got into his car. She lifted her left hand and wave bye-bye as he pulled away, her right hand grasping the 7 inch purple dildo she was getting ready to slide into her pussy. When she was sure that he was gone, she turned and jumped into the bed, lay flat on her back, and slid the big monster between her legs. Soon she would be putting Max's monster there. She closed her eyes and began moving the dildo in and out, in and out, in and out, feeling another orgasm build. Ding-dong. Nothing Ding-dong. Elizabeth's eyes fluttered open. Max? No, he wasn't due for another two hours. Ding-dong. "Shit." She pulled the dildo out of her cunt, leaving herself feeling empty. "This better be fucking good." She grabbed a robe and, putting it on, headed downstairs. Elizabeth opened the door to find a short (to Elizabeth) black haired lady at her door. She was attractively dressed all in white, with little white pumps to match her white purse. She carried one small and two large packages. "Yes?" "Ms. Harn? I'm Tara Worthington from 'The Twighlight Zone'. I have some presents for you." 'The Twighlight Zone'. Elizabeth had been there a few times. She had a pair of jeans from there that had zipper up both sides; you could get out of them completely in a flash, never have to take off your shoes, do you fucking, and be back in them before the light changed. They sold simply incredibly sexy outfits and toys there. She and Max had gone looking a few times, and she had convinced John to buy her a piece of lingerie worth over $2000. She wore it a lot when she fucked Max. "Presents? I'm sorry, I don't understand." "A mister John Roland said to deliver these here this afternoon. All these items are custom tailored. I'm your fitter." "John, that sweetheart." "horny little fuck. Must have dropped a bundle on this. Shouldn't be spending my money that way" "What do you mean, fitter?" "These are custom items. I'm here to make sure they fit properly, and that you can put them on and take them off without damaging them. Quite routine, I assure you." "Well then, Ms. Worthington, won't you come in?" The woman smiled, "Call me Tara." Elizabeth watched as the woman spread the boxes on the bed. There had been another few in her car, and these were spread out too. She opened a small bag and took out a four inch tube of leather. She motioned for Elizabeth to turn around, the pulled the long blonde hair into a ponytail which was then held in place by the tube, so it stood out from her head like a horse's tail. "So your hair doesn't get caught in anything." Then she opened the first box and pulled out a pair of black leather boots that would probably reach to her knee. The five inch heels would be uncomfortable, but Elizabeth used to do runway modeling, so heels weren't that big a deal. Tara handed them to Elizabeth. "Go ahead and try them on. I think the size is right, and our shoes are actually very comfortable." "our shoes are very comfortable, blah, blah, blah. Bitch. What would she know?" Elizabeth pulled the left boot on.The inside was lined with what felt like silk, and she could feel cool air circulating around her foot. Still, it was a snug fit. "How does it do that?" "You mean the aeration. One of our patents. Keeps your foot dry and comfortable, without the need for stockings or socks. Zip it up." Elizabeth pulled the zipper up, the leather folding over the seam for a smooth finish. The boot itself was snug all the way up; no loose spots were evident. It was as if Tara could read her mind. "Another patent. The leather isn't actually whole, but micro-squares connected with an elastic and sealed. It'll stretch almost twice its original size and still remain smooth. The only problem we have is it becomes very puncture and cut resistant. Makes it a pain to cut patterns." Elizabeth pulled on the other boot, luxuriating. Max would get a hard-on just from seeing her in these. <These would be perfect for a little dominatrix and the slave scene.> She was starting to make herself wet just thinking about it. "What else you got?" Tara opened another, smaller box. "How about matching gloves?" Elizabeth's eyes went wide. Elbow-length black leather gloves were something she had always wanted but could never find in quality. She pulled on first one then the other, marveling at how there were no gaps or loose spots, not even at the wrist. "These are incredible. How much does something like this cost?" "I'm not permitted to disclose that information, Ms. Harn. But if you're wondering because you would like another pair, they do come in red, blue, yellow, and white. Mr. Roland set up an account with us, and said you were to have Carte Blanche. We have a new catalog going to press in a few days; I'll have one sent over." Elizabeth got up and went to her full-length mirror. Even though she was still dressed in her robe, the gloves and boots, along with the hair tube made her just reek of kinky sex. She was definitely wet. <Max is in for a night he won't soon forget.> "I must say, Ms. Harn, that those items complement you quite a bit. Have you ever thought of modeling?" "Why, thank you. I used to be a model." "Would you ever consider modeling for us at the Zone?" "I'm sorry, hon, but just today I signed a deal which guarantees that I won't be modeling any more." "That's a shame, Ms. Harn." "What else do you have there?" "The main course, Ms. Harn. Mr. Roland spent hours picking this out for you. I helped him myself." Tara picked up the largest of the boxes and opened it, then pulled out a black leather corset, complete with underwired half-cups and a lined snap crotch. Elizabeth almost fainted. "If you're not too modest, you could try it on now. I do this all the time." "I wouldn't be much of a model if I never was naked in front of the designers. Besides, I might as well complete the outfit." "Then, if madam would be so kind as to step into this?" Elizabeth shucked her modesty with her robe. The corset was beautiful. Max would flip. "I never knew John had such...unusual tastes." <little fucking pervert>. She stepped into the corset, pulling it up her long muscular legs. When it got to her hips she had to wiggle a little, but it finally pulled over. The inside was padded and lined with silk. "How do I tighten it?" Tara opened another box and pulled out a small remote control-looking device, and attached to two little studs that were between Elizabeth's half-cups. "Turn this knob and it works a series of internal wires which draw the lacings shut. When it's as tight as you want it, use this clip to hold them in place, and tuck the cords here. I'll show you the first time." Elizabeth watched in fascination as Tara turned the device on. Two small gears pulled the cord in, tightening the corset first at her lower back a little, then further up. The breath was pushed from her lungs. "I think that's tight enough." "Really? I would have thought somebody as fit as you would have gone much smaller." She began to disconnect the cords. "Wait. I guess I could go a little smaller." Tara smiled as she turned it on again, this time a little faster, so Elizabeth couldn't change her mind so fast. The heavy front boning caused Elizabeth to stick out her leather-covered ass a bit, while the cups seemed to squeeze and lift her tits at the same time. The corset itself was seamless; not a single ripple could be seen. Tara tied off the ends and stuffed them into a hidden pocket on the front. "Not so bad, was it?" "No, But it is hard to breathe." Elizabeth looked in the mirror again. Her already sexy body had an even slimmer waist, and her B-cup breasts, augmented by the wiring and padding, jutted from her chest like two D-cup missiles. <I'm not going to make it waiting for Max - I gotta cum, and soon> "What else do you have for me?" "Mr. Roland also picked out some earrings; two sets of matched studs. Are your ears double pierced?" "Triple, actually." Tara opened the small box. Inside were two sets of pearl stud earrings, one set larger than the others. Elizabeth took the box and went to the vanity to put them on. She couldn't get the strange backs on while wearing the gloves though. "Little help?" "I'm sorry. They're designed so they don't come off very easily." Tara put the posts through the holes in Elizabeth's ears, then snapped the backs on with an audible 'pop'. "Ouch!" "I'm sorry about that. They are a little snug, but you'll get used to it." "Should have warned me. What's in that little box?" She pointed to a foot-long box that had been inside the corset box. "I forgot about those. They are toys that go with the corset. Would you like to try them on also?" <Toys?> "Why the hell not?" Elizabeth got up and walked over to the bed. Her legs felt a little wobbly. Must be the boots. She opened the boxes to discover a small black dildo and a smaller black butt plug. "I could show you how to put them on. In case you would ever be interested. I'm not saying that you're into that kind of thing, but..." Tara mumbled her way out of the suggestion. Elizabeth's head thinking started to get fuzzy. Her earlobes throbbed. "I don't know..." Tara smiled an almost evil smile. "Here, I'll show you. Bend over and put your hands on the vanity." Elizabeth felt her body stumble over to the vanity and bend over, thrusting her ass high in the air. "Will this do, Tara?" <what am I doing?> "Nicely, dear" Tara opened the snap crotch and stuck her finger into Elizabeth's wet pussy. "Plenty of lubricant here for both holes!" Elizabeth felt the digit intruder, but even though her mind told her to be appalled, her body responded by thrusting backwards, pushing the finger in deeper. "Tara? Something isn't right here. I think that the corset must be cutting off my oxygen. Could we take this off now? Tara?" "That's Mistress Tara, and I think things are going just perfectly." Tara removed her finger and Elizabeth watched in the vanity mirror as she used it to grease up the butt plug. A nasty smile came across Tara's face. "Ready?" She nudged the tip of the butt plug into Elizabeth's anus, which resisted, then pushed it all the way in with one motion. Elizabeth shuddered with the pain, which was erotic in a way. Before she could think about it, though, Mistress Tara slid the dildo easily into place. "We'll just hook up the wires here, and close this crotch nice and tight, Tah-dah!" Elizabeth's ass and pussy seemed overfull from the constriction of the corset. <something's wrong. What's happening to me?> "Stand up, Elizabeth. How does it feel?" "Very full and very tight, Mistress Tara. Mistress Tara, what is happening to me?" "You will not speak unless spoken to, Elizabeth. By the way, I think 'Elizabeth' is too proper sounding a name for a slut like you. What would be a good slut name for you? How about 'Bunny'?" Tara spotted the box of chocolates next to the bed, "or 'Candy'? Yes, I think a chocolate eater like you should be called 'Candy'. Don't you agree?" <CANDY!? what kind of name is that for a woman of her stature? Once she had made a success of herself she had insisted on being called 'Elizabeth'> "Yes, Mistress Tara." It was as if her mind was stuck in a body she didn't control, a body with a mind of its own, where she was just an observer. Tara walked over to the dresser and rummaged through it until she found the zipper jeans, which she tossed to Candy. "Put these on. We're going to have guests in a little while." Candy began to put the jeans on, using the side zippers to avoid trying to pull the tight denim over the boots. <Max! Shit! How am I going to explain all this? Am I going to be given the chance to explain all this? What's happening to me?!> Tara was going through the closet; she tossed out a black silk shirt, then a black leather belt, then turned to face Candy. "It's the earrings, slut. The larger ones are releasing a concentrated chemical into your bloodstream which makes you very receptive to suggestion. Go ahead, try to remove them. You can't. The halves are permanently fixed together. Besides, slut, you have no desire to remove them." Candy stopped trying. "The smaller ones serve a function you'll discover later. Now hurry up and get dressed. I'd like to see if that mouth of yours can do more than complain before the doorbell rings." Ding-dong. Mistress Tara pushed Candy's head away from her crotch. Pussy juice streamed down her chin. "Did I do good, Mistress Tara?" "Fair, slut, but you'll learn. Now clean up and fix your makeup; wear the silvery pink lipstick." "Yes, Mistress Tara." <I can't believe I just ate her pussy.>I've got to do something! But her Candy-self did just what it was told. Candy walked down the steps carefully. Max will help me. He's got to help me. She heard voices in the living room, male and female. She reached the bottom of the stairs and turned the corner. Mistress Tara was talking to John, and another woman was behind him. John! Maybe he would help! "Here she is now, your little slut Candy!" "Hello, Candy," said John, "you remember slut Buffy, your old secretary, don't you?" The other woman looked up at the name, a dizzy-looking smile on her face. Cheryl! She was the one that had led John on in the first place! What had happened here? Cheryl/Buffy was dressed the same as Candy, only in negative. White boots peeked from her jeans, white gloves, a white leather tube giving her black hair a pony look, and no doubt a white corset and toys under the white shirt. Her tits strained against the shirt, much the same way as Candy's did, and her erect nipples were evident. She even wore the same silvery pink lipstick. John was dressed in jeans, cowboy boots, a nice shirt, and a leather jacket. Tara spoke, "Candy, this is Master John, whom you will refer to as John in public, and Master at all other times. This is slut Buffy, whom you will refer to as Buffy in public or as 'slut Buffy' at all other times. You will do whatever Master John tells you to." "Yes, Mistress Tara." Like hell. "John, everything worked perfectly. I did nothing with the toys yet, though. Did the paperwork go through okay?" "Yes, Ms. Worthington. The entire estate is now mine. You'd think that somebody that thought she was as smart as she was would have reread the contract before she signed it. By the way, seeing as she is now a penniless waif, she'll need a job. Any modeling contracts open for her and Buffy at the Zone? I've got a room upstairs she and Buffy can stay in, if they're good." At the phrase 'if they're good' Buffy's eyes got a dreamy look, and she reached around Master John and began rubbing his crotch. Mistress Tara smiled again. "Programming's going well, I see. Yes, I could use a few more models, in the bondage and sexual toys areas. Are you going to set up Candy's program before you go?" "Nearly forgot!" He took out a little control and pressed a few buttons. A voice started whispering in Candy's ears [you love Master John, you will serve Master John, you will do anything Master John tells you...] then seemed to fade into the room's background noise. If she concentrated, she could pick it out [you love sex with Master John, you love sex with slut Buffy, you love sexy clothing...]. "Before you go, John, how are things in the biochemical prosthetics division going?" Tara winked at the man. "Let me show you. Buffy, show Mistress Tara your favorite thing in the whole world." Buffy's whole body shivered as she dropped to her knees, a lustful grin glued to her face. She undid Master John's belt, and nearly ripped his pants off, exposing the cock she had rubbed to a full erection. Candy gasped. Holy shit. Look at him. He's huge! At least ten inches long, and two in diameter. He was bigger than Max! Buffy took the head of the engorged cock in her mouth and began stroking the shaft with her left hand while her right hand fondled his egg-sized balls. Her eyes closed and she started to hum as if there was no place in the world she would rather be. At this point in Buffy's training, there was no place she would rather be. It was almost complete. John pressed another button on the remote. The voices in Candy's ears were no longer in sync. [...you love giving head, you love pleasing orally and anally...] while the other spoke phrases [...to you the term 'on your knees' is an invitation to please Master John orally...]. Candy felt drawn to Master John, looking him in the eyes, a question unasked. Master John smiled and said, "Buffy, stop. Our new slut wants to make up for lost time. On your knees, slut Candy. Show me what I've been missing for the past three months." He winked at Mistress Tara. She stifled a giggle. Candy dropped to her knees in front of Master John. She wrapped her leather-covered left hand around the shaft, and reached out with her right to fondle the huge balls which filled her hand completely. The purple head, bigger than a golf ball, glistened with slut Buffy's saliva. I can't. It's too big. Too fucking big. Her mouth opened, and she slid the cockhead past her silvery-pink lips, leaving a slight trail of lipstick and gloss as she tightened her lips' grip. Her hands began stroking and fondling of their own accord while her lips swirled and explored. Soon she began to ease more of the huge prick into her mouth, slowly bobbing her head up and down. God, I can't believe I'm doing this. Two inches, then three, then four. The glans hit the back of her throat, it's too much! Too FUCKING BIG!, and on the next down stroke she started to deep-throat it. John touched another button. Between slut Candy's legs, things began to happen. The butt plug and the dildo began to expand as the current from the batteries hidden in the corset reacted with the chemicals inside the toys. When they reached their full size, both began to heat up and vibrate. Slut Candy's orgasm began to build. God, I can't take much more. John tensed up, he's going to cum, and slut Candy went to pull the cock out of her mouth. Mistress Tara's hands instead forced her head back onto the cock head just as the cum spurted forth; not the palm full that she got from Max's little dick, but the first stream would have filled her mouth if it hadn't shot right down her throat. She kept pumping her Master's cock, shooting stream after stream of tasty cum down her throat. He pulled away, her pouting mouth sucking as long as she could. The toys inside her overexcited her nerves, sending her into a convulsive orgasm that rocked her like none before. "Wow, John. How much did you prime your prick with?" "Well, Ms. Worthington, I figure that was about three months' worth. I've been saving up for a special occasion." They both laughed. "Slut Candy, did you like that?" Tara spoke softly to the convulsing body on the floor. "Every time you please your master, he may reward you with an orgasm. Don't please him, and he will punish you. Or worse, he may sell you to me. Sort of sad, really. You could have been a femdom to rival the best in my organization. Too bad you were so greedy; that combined with your submission to your sexual desires was your downfall. See you Monday, bright and early. Got a new catalog to get out!" Slut Candy looked up at Mistress Tara and Master John, affection and desire in her eyes. Master John pulled his underwear and pants back on, gave a small bow to Ms. Worthington, and walked to the door. Buffy and Candy came up on either side, each taking an arm. I hope Master John will let me suck his cock again soon. Epilogue Max swung his Porsche into the driveway, turned off the motor. Elizabeth is going to be fucked like never before. The little shit's house should have blown by now and I bet she's already wet. Maybe she'll wear some of that kinky underwear that he buys her. If that bitch I married had done me like this, we wouldn't be getting divorced right now. He trotted up to the front door. Tacked to the front door was an envelope with his name printed on the front. He pulled it off, and the door slowly swung open, of its own accord. On the floor of the hallway was a large clothing box. He stepped into the foyer, closed the door, and opened the envelope. Max, Put on the outfit in the box. All of it. Make sure it's nice and tight. Then bring that big cock of yours upstairs. I've got some plans for it and you that you will never forget. Mistress Wow! She's gone off the deep end this time. Max had a difficult time getting his clothes off fast enough for his own taste, leaving them in a pile on the foyer floor. His erection was almost painful as he opened the box. Inside were three leather bags. The first contained a mass of one-inch black leather straps connected with rings in a criss-cross pattern. The second had what looked like a black leather condom and a little, empty bag. In the third was a ring-gag harness to keep his mouth open wide. After he removed the bags, he saw three small envelopes numbered #1, #2, #3. She has gone off the deep end, but when she gets in these moods, she's fucking incredible. #1 - put on the jumpsuit. You climb in through the neck, like a good little slave. Max pulled the neck wide, surprised at the leather's flexibility, and stepped in. In a moment, he was completely in, his eagerness to please evident. The suit was like a net covering his body from the neck down. It left his hands and feet free, and his erection and ass bare. If he could have gotten harder, he would have. #2 - put the tube on my property. Pass it through the ring, then draw the bag over your sack. Max did as instructed. The tube was tight; almost too tight. It covered all of his eight inches, leaving the glans exposed. The bag, which seemed to be made of a stretchy leather-looking material, had a ring which slid down the shaft, then drew it over his ball sack. It felt like somebody had a good grip. Uncomfortable, but arousing. #3 - put the gag on and get your ass upstairs; you're already late. This better be worth it. She had put him a ball-gag once, after he offed her first boyfriend.Of course, she had made up for his inability to use his mouth by using hers twice as much. He stuck the ring in his mouth, maneuvered it behind his teeth, and fastened the harness behind his head and again on top, making sure it was snug. His mouth was open to the limit, wrapped around the 2-inch ring. He couldn't speak at all. He nearly came as he ran up the stairs. The bedroom was lit only with candles, and Elizabeth was nowhere in sight. A few empty boxes from 'The Twilight Zone' lay on the floor. The bed had only a black satin sheet and four manacles attached to the frame. A large card read, 'Tie yourself, sex slave.' Max hooked his left ankle into the first manacle and slapped it shut. It clicked. He had to spread his legs wide to get his ankle to the other manacle. He pushed down against the hinge, and the halves closed and then clicked. Pre-cum began to dribble down his wrapped shaft. His arms stretched out and found their place in their manacles. The tube and the sack held his prick pointing to the ceiling. His cock was so hard it hurt. "So this is the guy who was going to kill one of my favorite biochemists, eh? Nice dick you got there; you'd think it would get you laid a little more often, or you wouldn't be where you are now. Pretty desperate for sex, aren't you?" A little black-haired woman dressed in white walked into the room. "Looks like you can follow directions, though. That's good, especially where you are going." Max strained against the manacles, realizing that he'd been had. Grunts and snorts emanated from his mouth, but nothing intelligible could make it past the ring-gag. "Where's Elizabeth? Funny you should ask. She left a little while ago with John. What's that? You're sorry you missed her? Part of her is still here. Here, taste for yourself!" Tara slid the purple dildo, covered with Elizabeth's dried juices, into the ring-gag and all the way into Max's mouth, making him gag. "Better get used to it. You'll be sucking real ones pretty soon." A lot of things happened to Max that night. Things he didn't think he would live through. Some things he didn't want to live through. But that's another story.

Chapter 3: Elizabeth

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11294.txt

Caesar (92)

Tender Years

"Are you sure you want to do this?" With an unsure voice, "Yeah, it's not like we're lesbians or anything." A nervous laugh that didn't last long. There was a few seconds of awkward silence while the two teenagers looked at each other, before Caroline bent forward and pressed her firm lips to her best friend's. They pulled away and lay back onto the bed looking up at the ceiling. It was Lisa who spoke first, turning her head on the pillow facing Caroline's. "If we are going to do it, then we should do it right?" She had a peculiar smile on her lips. Her friend didn't answer, "I understand if you don't want to?" "I want to!" A little too quickly. She also turned her head facing her pretty friend, "OK, I'm ready." She looked and felt nervous. Sitting up, "I'll turn off the lights and close the blinds." Lisa did, with a quickness and excitement shown by her movements, but those signs were missed by her friend. They lay for several long minutes in the dark, before Lisa turned onto her stomach facing her best friend. They could just barely make out the shape of the other's face, but could not see any features to tell if the other was happy or not. Inching her way up the queen-sized bed, Lisa placed her face right above the other's. In the dark, her friend could not see her barely contained excitement or trembling anticipation, but could feel the warm breath upon her face. While Caroline bit her bottom lip with nervousness, questioning her motives and feelings of what she was doing. Slowly, so as not to hit her friend, Lisa bent forward and, with beginner's luck, placed her lips upon the others. The young girl wanted this to be a perfect kiss. In fact, Lisa often fantasized about this very moment and would practice what to do with her pillow late at night. Caroline felt the closeness of her friend before she felt the moist, soft lips touch hers. At first, neither moved. Then Lisa kissed softly and slowly, her mouth opening gently and a tongue softly sliding into her friend's mouth. It was an expert kiss made perfectly by young women who knew how she liked to be kissed. Even Caroline forgot her nervousness and massaged her friend's tongue with her own, and soon even sliding it into the mouth of her best friend, tasting and testing everywhere. Lisa's head turned perpendicular to Caroline's, the perfect angle for locking lips. Lisa was in heaven, this was better than her fantasies, she felt an electricity right down to her toes. While Caroline forgot everything and her attention was completely focused on her lips. They broke apart, neither knowing who did it. Lisa flopped back down onto her side of the bed catching her breath. It was Caroline who spoke first, "That wasn't so bad?!" Her voice was uneven, nervous, excited. "No, it wasn't." Lisa couldn't control her voice properly either. After a few more awkward moments before Caroline spoke up, "Good night Lisa." She turned away, her back towards her friend. Lisa didn't reply, she didn't want to go to sleep! In fact, her body was trembling with desire. Since they had first met, Lisa had been attracted to Caroline. The attraction grew into something more, until the teen often thought about her friend when she fantasized. Both had boyfriends, and both were still virgins, they told each other everything. But the way Lisa felt was the only thing she had kept from her friend. When Caroline first agreed to the kiss, Lisa knew she was in love, that she would be the happiest girl alive if only her friend reciprocated. The kiss had been originally Lisa's idea. For over half an hour, Caroline could not sleep, but lay in a frightful stupor. The question that kept running through her head was, "Am I a lesbian?" If it was just the kiss she could be able to answer that question, but the most frightening thing for the young girl was that she had enjoyed it. Tears almost came to her eyes when she realized that she was sexually excited, her vagina was extremely wet and was even dampening her panties and inner thighs. That scared her more than anything else, and would give anything to stop the thoughts and feelings running through her head. Never once did she wonder about her best friend's motives, but did wonder if Lisa was feeling in the same way. Minutes dragged into a full hour, neither spoke, nor did they sleep. Caroline's body began to tremble, it felt like it was electrified with cold electricity. Lisa only stared at the dark form before her imagining with hot desire, fantasies that she wanted to come true. Though the two teens would never forget what they felt, they would surely fall asleep eventually. The tall, blond, blue-eyed teenager may perhaps become a lesbian, or just liberal-minded about her sexuality. This encounter only enforcing her suspicions that she was more attracted to girls than to guys. While Caroline, a short, black-haired, petite girl would try to forget the one step towards an open sexual relationship with another woman. She would probably marry, have kids and be happy. But late at night when she couldn't sleep, her mind would wander back to her best friend Lisa and the kiss they shared. But the night wasn't over! The temptations that had pressured Lisa into conning her friend to kiss her were also moving her towards something more. Caroline felt the hand lay upon the top of her raised hip and shivered. At first, she thought it was the stray hand of a sleeping partner. She was wrong! Lisa may not be able to see the best friend in the darkness, but could easily conjure a picture in her mind. When she lay her hand upon the other, she could "see" it as if it was bright as day. So in her imagination, she could see the attractive curve of the small body, specifically the hourglass figure created by the tiny waist. Her hand rubbed upon the cloth-covered skin to the small of Caroline's back and then up to the neck and head. She rubbed and massaged back and forth, feeling every curve and texture of the muscular back. Caroline barely breathed for the five minutes that this was happening. Her body stopped trembling, but sexually, she was getting more excited than she had even thought possible.She enjoyed the gentle touch of the other girl, her body wanting more. When Lisa pulled her hand away, Caroline almost moaned in despair. She turned onto her back, her head facing her friend yet again. The tiny girl wanted to taste her friend's lips again and was disappointed when the hand returned. It rubbed along her neck then downward to her small, pointy breasts. No one had ever touched her there before. The hand cupped and molded the soft bosom gently, bringing a wave of delight to the tiny girl. This time, Caroline didn't try to conceal the moan she let out or the trembling that began again. The hand left her breast too quickly to rub down her stomach. Lisa's rapid breathing was loud, but her friend could not hear it because of her own. Then the hand lay over the damp mound of Caroline's sex! Caroline groaned loudly and spread her legs to accommodate her friend's hand, which was pressing down. The palm agitated the already enlarged clitoris, bringing a wave of electrified passion through the little dark body. Lisa could feel the heat and moisture that coated her hand. For the first time, what she was attempting to do scared her young, virginal mind, and she pulled away from her friend. They just lay there frozen, Caroline excited and hungry, while Lisa confused and unsure. This time, it was the hyper-excited Caroline that took the initiative. She rolled over against Lisa, placed one leg over and between the longer ones of her friend, one hand on the large breast of the blonde, and her lips pressed forward. That first intimate touch by Caroline wiped away any cobwebs in Lisa's mind, and her body reminded her how excited it was. She could feel the heat of the crotch against her bare leg and the moisture covering her skin. Her nipples pointed into the small palm, the breast too big for the tiny hand. The lips hungrily kissed her, the tongue forcing itself into her mouth. The small girl was truly in an excited state, her body taking over from her mind. Lisa had control of herself, but still wanted the same end. The tall girl began to press her pelvis upwards into her friend's thigh and began to return the kiss. Lisa moved her hand down to cup Caroline's right buttock, making her hips move in time with her own. Caroline tried to stop herself, but couldn't. It was as if she was watching herself do these things from afar. Her body responded to the maneuver of her best friend, and they began to rhythmically press their crotches against the other's thigh. Both were very close to an explosion, which Caroline had never felt nor knew much about. Yet she desired! It was Lisa who wanted to feel her friend's bare skin, desiring the touch of her naked crotch against her own sensitive thigh. She began to moan into the open mouth of Caroline's, her tongue spearing around Lisa's. They were like two animals mating in the dirt, striving for an orgasm, using their partner to achieve it. One of the rutting beasts was beyond her senses, while the other was totally in control of herself. Yet both would look exactly the same if viewed from a third person, if anything the small animal on top looked like she was in control. Only thing in control of her was her sexual hunger! Caroline achieved an orgasm first. The spark of the explosion started slowly, then quickly spread outwards to every inch of her body. It took control of her muscles and her mind. Like a thunderbolt shooting through her, starting at her aching vagina. Caroline bit into the soft neck of her friend to stop herself from shouting out, instead she only groaned loudly. She couldn't tell how long it lasted, but when it was over, she lay over her inert friend, exhausted and spent. It was her first orgasm with another person, and it was the most delicious thing she had ever felt! Lisa felt her friend clench above her just before she started to spasm, every muscle moving independently. The realization that Caroline was spending put Lisa over the top. Her own orgasm was much less explosive but about as satisfying. Many times had the tall blonde masturbated to the fantasy of making love with Lisa; every orgasm she ever had was with the image of her best friend on her mind. She held the small dark girl tightly until they both stopped jerking with spasms. Lisa bent forward and tenderly kissed Caroline's forehead. Both girls had quivering muscles and sweaty bodies. In fact, both of their tops were clinging to their now sweaty bodies, sticking them effectively together. While their bottoms were sticky for another reason! This time, the girls fell asleep, wrapped in each other's arms!

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/17879.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 possiblity 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 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.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 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 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.

MF (light D&S)

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/7366.txt

Rass Senip - Proofread by Evil Eye

Tim, the Teenage MC

"Hi," I said, standing in the hall with two bottles of drink in my hands. "Hi," Kim replied, a little nervous. She was still in her uniform, having just gotten home from a hellish day at work. Despite everything that had happened between her and Corben, she had been amazed that the sergeant hadn't reassigned them with different partners. The entire day on patrol had been a long battle of nerves, and it was quite plain on her face that she had reconsidered and was about to send me away. "Wow," I said. "Huh? Wow what?" "You know what they say about uniforms. It just kind of hit me, that's all." She gave me a somewhat blank look, then was in the process of gathering her courage up when I said, "I guess I better work on those pickup lines a little more, huh?" Kim's stressed expression gave way to a slight smile, and for a moment, I thought she was going to ask me in. But when a neighbor walked by, she suddenly felt conspicuous. "Tim, I'm sorry. We can't do this. I have to ask you to..." I sighed and called her neighbor back to her door. "Can I help you, young man?" the mid-fifties woman asked. "Yeah. How well do you know Kim?" "Why, I don't know... She's been living here for, oh, five years? She isn't noisy, and it is such a comfort to know we have a police officer just right down the hall..." "Yeah, but what about boyfriends. Does she bring many men in?" "Well, I don't really pay much attention to things like that, but yes. She has had a few male friends over." "Good. So what about me? Anything unusual about me bringing expensive champagne to her door? Would you even think twice about it if one morning I open the door to get the paper wearing only a towel while you walk by?" "Well, I wouldn't be all that surprised. I've seen it before, you know. Now I've got to get back to my baking. Good luck, you two," she said with a smile. "I can't believe you did that," she said, still blocking the doorway. "It will be all over the apartment in minutes!" "What will?" "You know what will. Now I'm afraid you will have to leave," she said, starting to feel ill. "Hey," I said, truly concerned. "I promise, no funny business. You don't look so good." "I.. Damnit," she said, moving aside to let me pass. I helped her to the couch and began probing her to find out what was wrong. "Shit," I said under my breath. Then to her, "You're so stressed out that I'm getting a headache just feeling you out." "Feeling me out? You said no funny business." "Sorry. Bad choice of words," I said, lifting her legs up onto the couch. "Just lay here for a minute while I get a washcloth." "What do you need..." she started as I turned into her bedroom. I found a clean washcloth and only took a moment examining her very messy bedroom. At least the bed was fairly decent, even if we wouldn't get to use it that night. She was sitting up when I returned, her head almost between her legs as the room spun around her. "Hey, now. I said to stay laying down. Come on, Kim. Just trust me. I know what I'm doing. Or would you rather go to the hospital and have it put down on your record that you suffered a nervous breakdown? That's what's happening." "I am not having a nervous breakdown," she said, shaking all over. Then she groaned and started getting sick. "Shit," I said, leaping to grab a pot that was sitting in the sink. I managed to get it to her before she upchucked her lunch, then after giving the anti-barf commands to myself, I dumped the mess down the toilet and rinsed the pot out. After having to repeat the whole process one more time, I finally was able to wet the cloth and started to wipe her face down. "Thanks. That does make me feel better," she said after a few minutes of laying on her back while I swabbed her face and neck. "You know what you need?" I said a few minutes later. "What?" "You need some good old-fashioned mothering, that's all." "My mother died when I was six," she admitted. "Oh. Sorry. Kim, if I promise to be good, would you let me give you a little TLC?" "I don't know..." "Don't you trust me yet?" "No, it's not that. I don't trust myself. And I don't think I could stand..." she said, tensing up. "Hey.. Close your eyes, and relax. Auntie Tim is here," I said in an auntie-sounding voice. "But I.." she said. I looked in her eyes and moved my face closer. Her expression froze as the inches between us slowly decreased, then parted her lips in an expectant way when I reached the last inch. I whispered, "You don't have to trust yourself. Just trust me. Just.. trust... me..." She gently nodded, but didn't close her mouth in case I finished my descent. I was tempted... Man was I tempted. But I knew she wasn't ready yet. I felt sorry for her. I mean, when I first met her, she was a strong, confident, fast-thinking, and steady-on-her-feet woman who could have probably stopped a locomotive with just willpower. But now, just barely a month later, she was frail and very vulnerable, her willpower and energy almost completely used up. Sure, I could have had my way with her, and she would have willingly gone along with it too. But afterwards, what then? I came to her for her intelligence, not to fuck myself silly for a few hours. Actually, I still had high hopes to do both, but only if she wouldn't hate herself or me later. We were still staring into each other's eyes, our breaths in each other's faces when I said, "I'm going to help you take your uniform off, then I'm going to give you a massage. Just relax and let me do all the work, okay?" "Yes..." she said faintly. She wasn't in a trance, but yet she didn't seem to be completely aware. I peeked inside her head and found that she had given up her struggle altogether, blindly trusting me and not concerning herself with the possible consequences. This wasn't what I had in mind, but I was too aroused by her helpless state to care. She was as relaxed as she was going to get without drugs or physical therapy, and I figured the best physical therapy would be the sexual kind. But first, I needed to fix the cause of her problems. "Listen to me," I said as I formed the commands. "You do not need to worry about other people finding out about us. No one will ever suspect that I am any younger than you are. And as far as Corben is concerned, you will look upon it as a mistake, and nothing more. It was his fault for not checking to see if the conference room would be free. "Tomorrow, you are going to find someplace private and finish giving Corben that blowjob. Then afterwards, you tell him you want to remain friends, but nothing more. You will not find his boyish face any more attractive than anyone else's. "Kim, I need to know what you truly want. I'm going to ask you a question. Don't concern yourself with anything but the first reply you think of. Here is the question. Would you like us to make love to each other tonight? Yes or no." "...Yes." "Good...." I said, rubbing her cheek with the back of my hand. Her face frowned for a moment, then it melted away. "Kim, why did you frown a moment ago?" "Spander... He touched my cheek like that after...." "Oh..." I said, finding she had developed stronger feelings for Spander than I had first realized. I did a deeper scan of Kim's mind, revealing a not-so-innocent background as her demeanor suggested. In fact, besides having a thing for younger-looking men/boys, she had another fetish more fitting for her line of work. I had never really experienced any real bondage besides the time I was tied up and drugged by Penny's parents.But Kim's memory of looking in the mirror while wearing her dominatrix police outfit made my dick snap back to attention and struggle for action. Kim was sixteen when she had started exploring giving sexual pleasure to a tied-up male. She had been babysitting two boys who were three and five years younger than she was, playing an old familiar game of cops and robbers. Kim at the time had already decided to become a police officer like her father, so she hadn't minded playing the part of the cop when the boys had asked her to play. The older boy, Gary, had paid enough attention to her body with his eyes to tell Kim he had been imagining what she looked like without clothes. Although Kim was flattered that he had found her attractive, some of his comments had been bordering on being insulting. And to make matters worse, his younger brother Peter was trying to imitate him, saying things he obviously didn't mean or really didn't understand. So Kim had decided to teach them a lesson. Once she captured them, she tied them up to where they were helpless, then she teased them seductively before deciding they had enough. But as she reached around Gary to untie his hands, he whimpered not to untie him, and begged her to continue her teasing. That's when she accidentally brushed up against his lumpy crotch, causing both of them to gasp. His helpless face and voice stirred up her desire and lust like water on a grease fire, creating this powerful urge to sexually tease him in more direct ways. Kim's head moved towards the thirteen-year-old's clothed crotch, her eyes locked onto her target while her tongue prepared to do some licking. She had given her last boyfriend head once and had vowed never to do it again. But her lust demanded her do something, so she ran her tongue over his jeans crotch, making Gary cum on the fourth pass. Kim babysat Gary and Peter three more times before their parents decided Gary could watch his brother alone. But that didn't stop their fun. It became a regular after-school event, especially the following year when Kim and Gary were both going to high school and came home on the same bus. Somehow Gary managed to keep Peter's big mouth shut about what went on while their parents weren't there. And by the time Peter had turned thirteen, he was an active (actually passive) participant in Kim's increasing sexual torments. During the time she and Gary went to high school together, Kim resisted taking either of their virginities. But the summer following her first year of higher education, she took her two 'men' and fucked them back into boys. Gary had lost his virginity while she had been away, but Kim had the honor of being Peter's first. I had known some of this from my scans the day I met her in the hospital. But for some reason, I never uncovered her desire to tie her lovers up and keep them fully aroused for long periods of time before letting them cum. Kim wasn't looking to conquer her lovers, just sedate them with her sexual teasing while she plays with them like the toys they were. Because she didn't wish to dominate her lovers, I must have overlooked that part of her background. I checked to see who had been the last person she had played cops and robbers with, and to my surprise it had been Gary and his wife Anna. Gary had found a woman who was into light bondage like himself, but she was also dominating in nature, quite unlike Kim. While Gary had humored her orders at first, he eventually started avoiding their sexual play, and it reached a point where his marriage was suffering. After talking it over with his brother, he called Kim up for her advice and help. Gary convinced Kim to help him in an unusual way. He and his wife came to Kim's apartment the next weekend to give Anna a taste of what Gary had been hoping to receive from her. Anna was fully aware of what was supposed to take place, and secretly planned to take over the activities to show Gary and Kim who was really in control. Anna's plan backfired, however. Kim's training had kicked in when Anna attempted to cuff her, easily flipping her would-be captor onto her stomach and using the same pair of cuffs on her before even realizing what she had done. Anna's nasty attitude from the failure of her little plan made Kim angry and Gary miserable. So Kim tried her 'expertease' on Anna after completely immobilizing her. Despite neither woman having any interest in doing anything sexual to another woman, Kim quickly adapted to the situation, and apparently so did Anna. Kim managed to bring Anna to an orgasm without ever taking off Anna's panties or touching her bare tits. Anna was so... grateful(?) to her, she offered her blessing if Greg and Kim wanted to have sex. When neither Greg nor Kim indicated their desire either way, Anna actually insisted, then begged. I think it was an attempt to regain some control over the situation, and it didn't take any more prodding for Kim to have one last fuck with her old playmate. That had been over a year ago. Since joining the police force, Kim had only two other lovers, both of which didn't care to be helpless while they could have been fucking. She missed the days with Greg and Peter, especially after losing contact with her three college lovers that she had kept tied up nearly every weekend while living at school. But Spander's simple caress had stirred up her longing to have someone close to her heart. Even though she had cared for the men she had sex with, she never actually felt any real love in the relationships. Even Greg had been just a friend to her, and that had been the leading reason she hadn't taken his virginity from him. She still somewhat regretted having taken Peter's, but Peter apparently never did. And of all the males, she probably cared for Peter the most since he had been her little 'man'. While I had been scanning her mind for all this, I had been unconsciously stroking her cheek some more, causing her arms to get goosebumps. Her eyes were shut, her breathing had slowed, and by the time I had finished my scan, she appeared completely asleep. But the moment I removed my hand from her face, she opened her eyes and said "thank you" with a warm smile. I hadn't seen her smile so beautiful before and returned the smile. Our eyes seemed locked on each other's smiling faces, neither of us wanting to look away. She reached out and brought the hand I had been using on her cheek to her lips, then gave it a few soft kisses. My heart started to race with excitement as her soft lips parted and sucked my index finger in. Our eyes were still locked onto each other's expressions, and I could see she was very good at this form of sexual play. I have never had a woman who could suck on my finger and make it as erotic as she did. Her tongue had instantly covered my finger with her mouth's wetness, stimulating it with feather-soft touches of her tongue and lips. So soft, so gentle were these touches, my nerves in my finger were having trouble deciding whether there was something touching or not. Within a few minutes, my finger was tingling all over, nearing the sensation of what a cock feels when inside a hot wet pussy. She knew I wasn't going to just sit there and take it for much longer, so finally she pulled it out of her mouth, then gave it a few sensuous licks before she sighed. "I thought you said you were going to give me a massage?" she said a bit too innocently a few moments later. Our eyes were still locked on each other's faces, and I had to blink several times before comprehending her words. "I'll give you the best massage in your life," I said softly, my face showing the energy I hadn't used in my words. "But first..." This time when my face came within an inch or two of hers, I didn't stop until her parting lips were against mine. Our tongues collided twice before we managed to get them into the other's mouth. Within seconds of beginning what was supposed to be a heartfelt kiss, I was on top of her putting every bit of my energy into kissing the incredibly hot woman underneath that uniform. Her hands were pulling my shirt up my back while mine were busy trying to get her buttoned shirt unbuttoned. When she had worked my shirt up over my head, I sat up straddling her tummy, pulled my arms and head out of my shirt, then tossed it to the floor. In a surge of frustration and desire, I reached down and ripped her shirt open, sending the buttons flying everywhere. I paused a moment taking in the wonderful volume that her bra contained. Then I snaked my hands out to feel their size, but was intercepted by their owner's hands grabbing my arms and pulling me back on down on top of her. Man was she strong! She held me against her while she teased my own nipples with her incredible lips, then sent her hands down to my ass and pulled my crotch up to her mouth. The sounds she made while muzzling, licking, and sucking my seriously hard lump through my jeans was driving me crazy, and when she somehow managed to force a mouthful of saliva through the cloth onto the head of my dick, I felt the first sensations of an orgasm starting. But Kim wasn't about to let me cum yet. She turned down her fire and pulled my ass back down her body by my back pockets. The look on my face must have really turned her on though because after she looked at me, she sucked in a deep breath and didn't let it out until after she finished her rapid-fire humps while she came. I was extremely aroused by all this, wanting to plunge my dick into her fuck hole really bad. But I had other plans, and wanted to put off fucking her until at least after I had given her a mind-blowing massage. So as a compromise, I promised myself I would take her virgin ass after warming up on her front door.As Kim started to regain her senses, I got off her and used my muscles with a little help of my abilities to quickly flip her over onto her stomach and unhook her bra. Kim started to say something just as my hands started kneading her still highly tensed shoulders. Her voice faded to the last vestiges of a breath she had been holding in the last month. She went limp as I focused my hands on working out the knots and tension she had been collecting for far too long. I sat down on the edge of the couch, then a few minutes later realized I would be stiff myself if I continued to work like that. So after bending down close to her ear, I gently asked if we could move onto the floor so I could have more room to maneuver. Her speech was thick with that of a subject deeply hypnotized, but again, she wasn't in any trance, just completely lost in her relaxation to bother moving her tongue too quickly. I barely understood that she had agreed as long as I didn't stop. I moved the coffee table against the wall on the far side of the room, then turned around and found Kim in the middle of the carpeted floor on her stomach already. My eyes glanced over to the bra still laying on the couch, but fought against my disappointment knowing that Kim was purposely teasing me that way. She said nothing when I walked past her and got down on my knees behind her. I took her left foot and started rubbing with both hands through the black sock. I worked one hand up the foot and ankle to the top of the sock, then slowly worked the sock down and off while making her skin tingle with just a little bit of my magic touch. Kim jumped a little when I ran my tongue up the tender part of her foot, but didn't give any further reaction as I began bathing her foot in my spit while working her other sock off with my hands. Once her other sock was flying through the air behind me, I moved my slobbering mouth over to her other tasty foot. It is amazing how much saliva one can put out if you just know how to do it. It was starting to drip down to her thigh before I turned off the faucet in my mouth, then I worked my hands down her smooth legs under her slacks, rubbing my spit in as much as I could. I tired of that fairly quickly, finding her pants in the way of anything really interesting. So I gently placed her glistening wet feet on the floor, spread her legs ever so slightly, then crawled up her body, dragging my very hard crotch up her left leg and across her ass before coming to a stop. Her breathing was almost as hard as mine, and she was sweating from her excitement. I licked the ear that she wasn't laying on, then teased the corner of her mouth with my tongue. But all she did was smile in a manner that teased me more than I had teased her. I sat up with a jerk, sitting on her ass a moment before straddling it and reaching down to her shoulders with my hands. As I moved my hands all over her back, I started using my magic touch in short little bursts. I mechanically went over her back in a repeating pattern, letting myself daydream a little about what I wanted to do next while I worked Kim towards a near blissful state of relaxation. When my arms started getting tired, I broke my pattern and brought my hands around her sides and brushed my fingertips across the sides of her breasts. The instant I made contact, I turned up my magic touch for a moment, producing a deep groan from Kim as her tits felt like they were having their own little orgasm. I repeated this three times, each time extending both the contact and the magic touch. On the fourth pass I forced my hands underneath her, slipped my body off hers to the right, then pulled her over my lap and onto her back, feasting my eyes on her lovely juicy tits. Now I had seen my fair share of breasts. Big breasts, small breasts, average, and everything in between. I had also sucked many of those, but I had never before seen breasts so white, with nipples so brightly pink, or with such firmness for their larger than average size. My mouth watered as I began kneading her incredible flesh, watching her nipples harden and rise, then finally gave in to my desire to taste them. I dived into them, slobbering and sucking one as I continued my kneading of the other. My adrenaline was pumping while I smeared my face all over her wet breasts, my desire rising with each moment, causing me to get a little careless. I began surging my magic touch while I roughened my groping, driving Kim nearly senseless with the miniature orgasms I was causing. While I was attempting to suck as much of her right tit inside my mouth as I could, Kim suddenly wrapped her arms around my head to press my mouth and teeth into her orgasmic flesh. The pain in my jaw caused by her strength brought me back to my senses very quickly. When after a few moments Kim didn't let go, I was forced to override the muscles in her arms and loosen her grip enough for me to escape. I sat up, straddling her waist, feeling my very full hardon struggle to find that more comfortable position in my cramped pants. Looking down at Kim's glistening breasts while she started to roughly handle them herself, the desire to fuck those gorgeous tits hit me like a locomotive. I unzipped my jeans to release my anxious and not so little buddy, then let him happily lead the way up between the two mounds of soft flesh. Kim immediately started to object, but when she felt my dick's magic touch against her breasts' skin, having the same sensation as when a prick was entering her pussy, her sentence ended in a moan, then her hands pushed her breasts together to close the gap around my prick. The precum which had been flowing steadily out of my dick helped lubricate her sweating and spit covered breasts as I started the slow pumping motion. After the first eight or nine pumps, my speed was at a decent enough speed to make her breasts quiver from my movement. While this sight combined with the sensations her wonderful breasts were having on my fully hardened prick were very erotic and good, there was something missing to complete the experience. The instant I realized what it was, I sent the commands without thinking about it. Her head eagerly shot up and her tongue began actively licking me whenever my dick's head appeared on the other side of her breasts. The picture was complete, but I felt my satisfaction fading, so I thrusted harder and harder until my dick's head was entering her sucking lips. On a final powerful thrust, my dick split her breasts apart and my head fully entered her mouth, spurting its seed into her surprised mouth. Her initial reaction was one of horror, but I triggered her own orgasm to begin, and then made her suck me off like a whore when she started to choke from my continuing filling of her hot mouth. Despite the arousal I had altering her to satisfy me, the interruption of my orgasm to perform these mental tasks had resulted in ruining its intensity. And once I had calmed down enough to look at Kim still eagerly sucking on my dick, the displeasure of what I had done killed what was left of my after cum high. For a moment, I didn't recognize her. I had turned her into a cum loving bitch who minutes before would have never allowed someone to cum inside her mouth. And the worst part about it was she was pretty good at it. I was already hard again from her swooshing tongue and feather soft lips moving themselves up and down my tingling cock... When I realized she was bringing me quickly to full arousal again, I knew how to fix my little screw up. I had her stop, pulled my dick out of her mouth, and had her assume the tit fucking position again. Once I was back up to fucking speed, I blanked her memory of what had happened up to the point right before I had made her use her tongue on the head of my dick. This time, I closed my eyes and concentrated on the sensations I was receiving only. I nearly jumped off her when I felt her tongue again, finding her attempting to bring her orgasm to peak by trying something she felt was the thing to do even if she couldn't remember the source. I saw Kim make another decision that wasn't formed from the hidden memories. Her hands let go of her tits and pulled me back down her body until our faces her aligned. I felt her hands struggling to undo her slacks, so I got off her a moment and pulled them and her panties off, then shook my own jeans off my legs. The moment I got down on the floor with her, Kim took control of the situation. Before I could resist, she had me pinned to the floor and moments later had her hot, very wet cunt slipping over my pole. She wasn't a bad fit, actually. I was surprised at the slight tightness her pussy still retained. And Kim used it well, driving me into a desperate state quickly, then resisting my every attempt to take me over the edge. Her own orgasm was far from reaching that point, and that was probably the way she wanted it. The weight of a full grown woman on top of me was becoming a more familiar feeling to me. But it was still an exciting sensation to feel the extra weight, the curvier and fuller shape pressing down on you from above. Of the few fully grown women I had intercourse with at the time, Kim was most definitely the largest and heaviest. She wasn't overweight or a larger boned woman, just... I don't know. More dense in mass perhaps? Besides having a great pair of breasts and matching ass, Kim's body didn't have all that much body fat. Oh, but she was a bit taller than the average woman, but not that much. Maybe it was the muscles her job required her to have. So this combined with her slight tightness was really getting me desperate to fuck harder, but as I was helpless to do so, I found myself about to take matters into my own hands again. I didn't. Before I reached that point, I decided I had to withstand it without letting myself take the easy way out.If anything else, I figured it could actually help me against some future attempt by Steven to make me lose control. So, I stopped my struggling and allowed Kim to keep me at the level which only the twins had been able to maintain before. Sometime during my dazed state of desperation, my mind brought up the domination game Holly and I had played while inside Beanies' trailer. The image of Holly's face twisted by her orgasms then relaxing when she passed out repeated in my mind three or four times. Penny's face, Julie's face, LeAnne's, Joy's, and finally Suzi's face, all took turns displaying their most intense orgasms of their lives while fucking me. I loved each one in a way unique to the rest, and Kim would be added to the collection of faces twisted by Tim's orgasmic power. But not yet, I decided. She first would do it her way before we would do it my way. Somehow she sensed my mind had wandered off, for at that point in my thoughts she licked my lips. She teased me with her tongue and lips for several long minutes before her own arousal made teasing no longer acceptable. I managed to put a block on my own orgasm so I wouldn't shoot off before she did, then found my mouth being invaded by a very active tongue and concentrated on the oral battle at hand. This battle didn't last very long, for we were both short of breath as it was, and this made it even worse. But when her grip slipped and I found my right arm free, I quickly took advantage of it by slipping it down to her left tit which was pressed tightly against me. The moment my fingers touched her tit, her mind recalled the earlier sensations my magic touch had given her and somehow recreated the sensation without my involvement. The discomfort from her mouth emitting a very loud moan right in my ear was washed away by the sensations of her cunt spasming madly while she humped me with a new passion. She got up on her hands to thrust even more powerfully, freeing my own hands to attach themselves to her bouncing mammaries. When she came, she came with a high-pitched screech that was probably heard down the hall by you know who. I was so preoccupied by these things, I forgot to release my own orgasm with hers, and found her lowering herself on top of me before I realized my error. I don't think I had felt that aroused and that frustrated since the previous summer when Carol teased me with her body while I was drugged. But I was in full control of myself, knowing I couldn't just take what I wanted without obtaining permission and preparing her first. The problem was, Kim was worn out. She had done all the work for nearly an hour, and her orgasm had satisfied her lust completely. Her mind wasn't quite to the point of regretting anything yet, but I knew she would be feeling guilty for putting me through all that. If I had cum with her, that would have been different. But since I hadn't, Kim would start thinking she had used me, then blow things out of proportion from there. I quickly ran through my options, but didn't see any way out without altering her mind somehow. When Kim said something softly, I didn't catch it and asked her to repeat it. "I said, I'm a bit thirsty," Kim said in a stronger voice. As Kim started to get up off of me, her words strangely echoed in my head. Something was very important about this, but my slightly dazed mind wasn't letting it register. I was thinking she should be thirsty after all the sweating we had done, then remembered how she had puked earlier and probably needed to replenish the liquids she had lost. Then my mind flickered to my need to fuck her ass, and finally made the all-important connection. "Kill two birds with one fucking big boulder," I said to myself as I got up. My hardon hadn't gone down at all from the expectation of pounding her ass, and again it led the way, but this time towards the two champagne bottles of the purple drink. I wasn't easy to convince Kim to drink any of it, but I used her guilty conscience against her by allowing her to make the assumption I hadn't cum yet. Of course I had, and she had even sucked it out of me a bit, but since she didn't remember that, I only failed to correct her on the matter when I saw it would get her to comply. Even then, she didn't drink very much. She was only planning on doing enough to even the score and didn't want to get that deep into it again. But once it had started making her feel better, I talked her into drinking another swallow, then another, and then another. At that point, she had enough of the stuff in her to suggest she might just enjoy another round. Fifteen minutes and two glasses later, she was on her back flat on the floor with my face in her very wet puss, trying her best to get more of my tongue and mouth inside her. I knew she was ready for the next stage when her legs tried to wrap around my head, so I slipped inside her and withdrew it covered with her juice, then rubbed it against her exposed and already winking rose. She moaned a no, but her ass was saying yes to my trained senses, so I lubricated her rose with her juices a few more times before slipping my first finger in her relaxed anus up to the first joint. Her body instantly stiffened when her ass clamped down hard on my finger, then she let out an airy but clear "no" that made me think she might not allow me to continue. When her ass released its grip on my finger and I pressed my finger in to the second joint, her body stiffened again, but this time she only let out her breath when she relaxed. On the third try, I had my finger all the way in and found her gasp and small moan quite encouraging. A minute later, I was slowly pulling it out, then sliding it back in with the only resistance being her ass clasping from reflex. Once I was sliding in and out with ease, I worked the second finger, then finally a third. At this point, Kim was actively participating, but when she demanded that I fuck her ass, it came as a shock. She almost argued with me when I insisted she get up on her hands and knees, but when I pulled my fingers out and waited, she had no choice but to do so. The drink was driving her to not only let me fuck her ass, but to do it the way I liked it best. I plunged my dick back into her extremely wet pussy, then couldn't resist fucking it when she had started the rocking motions herself. But my goal was still on her ass, so once I had scratched enough of that itch, I pulled out and pressed it against her waiting ass hole. I instructed her to push her shitting muscles as long as she could until I was in all the way, then waited for her to comply. Not only did she follow those to the letter, I nearly didn't have to push as she pressed herself back. Now that was more like the Kim I had met in the hospital. She made a decision and stuck with it even though it was very painful. She didn't relax until I pushed myself in the last inch, then sat there very still trying to control the pain. She never whimpered or even shed a tear, just withstood it while her ass stretched to its new size. As always, I was tempted to reduce the pain, but I didn't, especially since she was handling it so well. And once she motioned for me to pull out a bit, it wasn't long before I was humping at a slow and steady speed. As she began to coordinate her anal muscles with my pumps, I took the open bottle of drink I had purposely left within my reach and took several good long swigs, then passed her the bottle. We didn't stop passing the bottle back and forth until it was empty, with Kim having drank more than I. I was fucking her ass at full speed when I felt her weight shift. Kim was on her face trying desperately to frig herself as I fucked her ass, triggering my overdue orgasm that made me see stars for a moment. Her own orgasm quickly followed when my gushing semen filled her anal cavity with a sudden warmth. I followed her down when she lost her ability to remain on her knees, and continued to fuck her ass with some difficulty until both our orgasms had finished and had begun to rebuild. With a single-minded purpose, we rearranged ourselves so she was on her back with her legs over my shoulders. I was fucking her ass freely again as she frigged herself madly, both of us so far into the effects of the drink we didn't realize anyone else was there until someone pushed me backwards onto my back. Through the haze of my drink-induced lust, I recognized Spander's cock between two somewhat hairy and strong legs as they bent down. I watched in a detached state of fascination as Kim's pussy somehow managed to accept the huge but rather short cock, his crotch taking several minutes before finally coming to a rest against hers. Kim was strangely still and calm considering the amount of pain and lust she must have been experiencing. I was barely withstanding my own lust, finding Spander's rising ass a very tempting target. As Spander's rising came to a halt then began to sink down into her again, I recognized the familiar vibes I was picking up from both of them. The sex was over for now. This was love. And even in my desperate state, there was no way I would interrupt that. My need to fuck was otherwise in control, however, and it only took a matter of seconds to decide how to fix the situation. I reached out with my mind, and with the energy of my sugar-saturated brain, I quickly found a neighbor who was perfect to suit my needs. I grabbed the other bottle of drink and left the apartment, closing the door behind me. I walked up the hall, up three flights of stairs, then down another hall to the apartment directly above Kim's, still completely nude and hard. A pregnant woman let me in as soon as I reached the door, then I had to step over the two small children playing next to the kitchen in front of the hall leading to the back bedrooms.No one noticed me as I made my way to the bathroom where my unknowing prey was busy fucking herself with her fingers on the floor of the running shower. The twenty-two-year-old woman was fantasizing about her ex-boyfriend fucking her their first and only time, wishing she had let him try out her butt instead of him leaving her the next week. I put her into a dreamstate as I entered the bathroom, then made her believe I was her ex-boyfriend and that we were re-living that day she had been recalling. It wasn't very honorable, I know. But it was either that or going to Mrs. Samson, the neighbor who I had talked to outside Kim's door before Kim had let me in. Mr. Samson wasn't into that stuff anymore, while Mrs. Samson was more into it than she ever had been. On the way up, I had set the bottle of drink off at their door and knocked without breaking my stride. I "suggested" to Mrs. Samson that the champagne might get him in the mood. I just hoped he didn't drink too much of it and have a heart attack. Of course, there are worse ways to go. Come to think of it, I don't think there is a better way. The moment I stepped into the shower, all bets were called off. The wet brunette beauty laid out before my hungry eyes was incredibly hot looking. Some of her long hair was plastered against her aroused face, her mouth open, breathing deeply as she looked at me with lust in her eyes. Her fingers continued their fucking, believing she was just fantasizing my presence. Just the sight of her caused me to start cumming, showering her in my white seed just moments after I had stepped between her and the showerhead. Ropes and ropes of my cum splattered against her glistening body while her free hand began rubbing it in and scooping it up to taste. As my massive orgasm ended, I fell to my knees and slouched forward between her open legs without realizing it. I was recovering my strength when her voice startled me, saying "Josh, I want you to fuck my ass." As I lifted my eyes up toward the source of her voice, they gazed upon the sight of her now empty pussy as it quivered while it laid wide open. The sight brought my lust and energy right back up to the point it had been, and my mouth descended onto her fleshy mound without another thought. She ground her sex into my face as I began fucking it with my tongue. If I had been in a less desperate state, I would have given her a decent licking out instead of the brute force tongue fuck. But even that wasn't enough to satisfy my drink-enriched lust. When my finger rubbed her asshole, she lurched and became resistant to continue. Without hesitating, I sent the commands to stimulate her ass to the point where it burned for my cock. Then it was only a matter of the routine one, two, then three fingers before she was ready for the real thing. The water was getting cold, so I managed to shut it off while she got into the doggy position. I entered her hot wet pussy, fucked it a few minutes to get it well lubed, all the while her voice begged me to fuck her ass. When I pressed it up to her rose bud, she slammed herself back and impaled herself. She jerked, moaned, bucked, screamed, then stiffened before throwing her entire weight backwards, causing me to sit back on my heels and bumped my head on the back of the plastic walled shower. I struggled to get my trapped legs uncoiled as she continued to jerk and buck like a chicken with its head cut off. Her moans and shrieks were like music to my ears, and her tight ass was doing wonders to my still expanding dick. I managed to get my legs straightened out and found myself echoing some of her moans. I had never had someone fuck me like that, and I loved its violent yet nondestructive nature. My dick finally exploded inside her hot ass, causing us both to scream as my hot spunk began filling her ass and quenching the fire she felt. In the middle of our orgasms, the bathroom door was flung open and the shower curtain was nearly ripped from its brackets as a man screamed, "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING WITH MY SISTER!" He didn't wait for an answer and had already reached hand around my neck when I said "Fuck Off." In a blink of an eye, he leapt out of the bathroom, allowing the two of us to continue where we left off. Her ass finally came to a rest with me still deep within her, and she sat there a moment before falling forward. My dick slipped out of her as she laid on top of me and prepared to fall asleep like that. I too found myself falling asleep, but the cries of the two children drifting in through the open doorway caused me to hold off my exhaustion for a moment. My "fuck off" command had led to the man finding his wife and nearly ripping the clothes off her semi-willing body. They were in the midst of their own first anal sex, completely oblivious to the little boy and girl who were extremely upset by the two adults' actions. I quickly had them crawl up on the couch and fall asleep before finally laying back in the tub and letting my own eyes close. The shock of cold water woke me up sputtering, then it stopped as I reached to turn the water off. "Who the fuck are you?" the towel-covered beauty said. Her voice was uncertain, or more accurately undecided whether she was angry or just curious. My dick snapped back to attention when I looked a bit too long at her tasty body and face. Her own eyes began roaming over my sprawled body, taking a considerable amount of time on my pulsing dick before dropping the towel. Her original question was forgotten as her eyes asked me another. I answered her eyes by getting out of the tub and pressing my body up against hers while our mouths inhaled each other's tongues. There must have still have been some of the drink in my system, otherwise I would have never felt like fucking her after having expended so much sexual energy earlier. But I wasn't in the lusty daze I had been earlier, and had enough of my wits to check on the state of her fertility. I nearly yipped when I found out what I had missed before. I slowed our frantic kissing and pawing down until I was holding the young woman against me with her head on my shoulder. "Kathleen, my name is Tim Branton and I'm, er, like here to help," I lied. "Help?" she said, suddenly aware of her actions and position again. "Oh my God. Where's Bobby?" "Your son is asleep on the couch with his cousin," I said, giving her back a small dose of my magic touch. "And your brother and sister-in-law are in their bedroom asleep also. How about you and I go into Tara's room to talk about Josh and Bobby." My magic touches were doing their job, and she passively agreed. I had to pick her limp body up and carry her to the little girl's bedroom where I laid her on the floor and went to close the door. When I turned back around, my pole shot back up while my hardening nipples tingled from the erotic position I had accidentally laid her in. Her bent knees had parted, giving me another mouthwatering view of her sex, and the way she was gazing at me with hungry eyes would have made a ninety-year-old cum in his pants. But I could see past those hungry eyes and into the mind of the woman who needed a father for her son, and had sworn to marry the next man she had sex with by hook or by crook. And because I had blanketed the entire building earlier to see me as an adult, she thought I was just a bit older than she was. Kathleen was attempting to use the very thing that she never carried out with Josh. He never knew about her pregnancy after making love the night of their senior prom. She had decided that Josh would only make things worse if he knew, especially from the immature way he acted after that night of passion. But now she regretted her decision, but felt she couldn't just tell him after four and a half years of hiding the truth. So she was attempting to commit me to take his place by allowing me to 'knock her up' and having my child. And to be perfectly honest, she wasn't having any trouble supporting her hungry look and aroused state. Josh's body had been similarly fit and lean, and the memories of our earlier fuck kept flashing in her mind while I flexed every muscle I had as I walked up to her. Oh, what to do. I wanted to fuck her so bad, and she was totally and completely willing. But she was doing it for partially the wrong reasons, and I felt obligated to tell her I wouldn't cum inside her. I told her I wasn't ready to become a father just yet. But my words fell on deaf ears. She didn't believe I would be able to prevent my release once we were into it, and if I tried to pull out, she would have wrapped her legs around me to prevent that. I decided that I would help her work things out with Josh if possible, or otherwise find a good and willing man that would love and protect her and her son. So with that out of the way, I initiated the block for my orgasm, then gently laid down on top of her with my meat pinned between our bellies. "Kathleen, I promise things will work out, just not the way you planned," I said before kissing her hot lips. I came up for air a minute later and panted, "You know what? You are one hot momma. Hot momma Kathleen." Her tongue came out and licked me from the chin to my lip, making every arousal overload warning light in my head to flash and burn out. I captured her tongue in my mouth and reeled it in, then raised my hips and aligned my drill head before slowly burrowing it into her moist hole. My lust boiled through me as I quickly went to full pumping speed. I don't know what it was about her body that turned me on so much. It was just so.. sexy to me. And the knowledge she wanted to have my child made so much more erotic that at one point I almost removed the block restraining my orgasm. I felt her own orgasm approaching just as I felt the familiar strain of fucking without release.With a sudden new desire to come inside of her, I quickly adapted my strategy. Kathleen never suspected a thing when I pulled out of her, replacing my real dick with my invisible one, then promptly grabbed her legs and pulled them up to my shoulders. Her eyes went wide as my cock's head pressed against her asshole, then shut as her ass opened to take it in. And as I started to fuck her ass, I linked our orgasms, then altered the level at which they would release. Kathleen began rocking her head back and forth as we reached nearly twice the amount of sexual arousal she had ever felt before. Every nerve in our bodies was starting to tingle with our sexual energy, filling our minds with nothing but the pleasure of sex. I felt her mind and will submit themselves to be my everlasting fuck toy, and that brought our orgasm to its peak. My dick expanded and began spurting its creamy substance into her ass again. But this time, she came with a silent scream while her ass was busily milking my dick for every drop. Two powerful thrusts and a series of short quick ones ended our orgasm, then her eyes rolled up into her head as she slipped into unconsciousness. I was in extreme need of sleep myself, but managed to stumble back down to Kim's apartment before passing out on the couch. I was extremely confused when I woke up later, finding myself in someone's living room, taking me almost a whole minute to realize whose it was. The coffee table was where I had left it, and Kim's family portrait hung right above it. I wondered what had become of Spander and Kim, but I was too tired to care beyond simply wondering, and I rolled over and fell promptly asleep again. I woke up to the sounds of coffee perking in the kitchen, then Spander walked over to me when he noticed I was awake. My cheeks were probably glowing from my embarrassment, but Spander didn't seem to be upset or even concerned at what happened. If anything, his voice was very warm when he said, "You sure know how to get on a guy's good side." "Huh?" I weakly said. "First I find you and Kim going at it like a pair of coyotes, then after Kim conked out on me, I hear this ruckus going on down the hall. When I went to check it out, this old lady opens the door as I passed her apartment and invites me in, then flashes her nude body at me. "I had to run to get away from her. And then Kim nearly pounces on me, and we have another go at it. She wore me out. How much of that stuff did she drink anyway?" "A lot. She's probably going to be too tired to go into work today. Same with me." "I have never seen someone go at it with that kind of energy before..." he said with a distant voice. I was just dropping off again when he said, "Your parents know where you are?" "My mom found me while I was with Kathleen," I said sleepily. "She told me to crash here." I think Spander would have questioned me about that, but I fell asleep before he could. When I awoke the next time, he was gone. It was about 8:40 am, and I knew Joey had tried to contact me earlier and had found out what had happened. My mom had already called me in for school, so I just rolled off the couch, visited the bathroom, then decided while I was in there I needed a shower before I joined Kim in her bed. To my surprise, Kim stepped in the shower behind me as I finished up. "Oh, it's you," she said in an almost disappointed tone. "Spander, I guess, went to work," I said with a little embarrassment. "That's okay," she said, pressing herself against my back and kissing my neck. "Er, Kim... I'm too tired to do this here and now. Can we..." "That's a relief. I thought that after Pat interrupted us..." "Pat? Oh, you mean Spander," I said, recalling that Spander's full name was Patrick Henry Spander. Kim was starting to lean heavily on me, and her extra weight was making me strain to stay on my feet. So I turned around in her arms and found her eyes halfway shut with a weak smile on her face. "Let's go to bed," I simply said. Kim nodded her head in agreement, and we managed to wipe ourselves off without falling over before crawling into her nice big bed. There was an awkward moment when we both decided we wanted to curl up with each other, but we were shy about being the first to suggest it. But when we saw it in each other's eyes, we both moved together and kissed gently for a long time before allowing ourselves to be taken by the need to sleep. My internal alarm clock woke me up around 11:30, and I found myself staring into Kim's sleeping face. She wasn't the prettiest faced woman, but she was still very attractive, especially when my morning hardon finally kicked in. I peeked inside her head and checked out what had gone on in my absence. Kim and Spander had fucked five times, each time becoming easier since Kim's cunt had stretched a little more. I sighed, knowing how loose it would feel if I ever bothered to fuck her front door again. But I wasn't all that worried since 'Pat' hadn't touched her backdoor, and I knew he wasn't interested in ever trying it. Kim was seriously in love, having feelings for him she had never felt for anyone else before. And I couldn't find the reasons for this. I mean, apart from his caresses, he hadn't done anything more than fuck her. They had started out making love, but shortly after I left, they both lost control and fucked like maniacs the rest of the time. The feelings Kim had were a lot stronger than I felt would come out of their initial love making. I gave up on looking for a reasonable cause, figuring it was some kind of phenomenon like finding your soulmate. Kim's obsession with younger males was still strong enough to find me extremely attractive, and I certainly found her to be as arousing as I ever did. I hoped to see Kim in her dominatrix police outfit as she did her best teasing on both Spander and myself, but that depended on Spander's feelings on the matter. My hardon wasn't going down on its own, and once I found Kim still too tired to bother waking, I forced it to behave and started rooting around to find my clothes. I wrote Kim a note asking her to call me when she woke up, leaving the phone number of the Kathleen's brother's apartment. After checking in with Joey and my mom, I went directly to the Samsons' door and knocked. Mr. Samson answered the door dressed in a woman's robe which barely covered the necessary areas. "What you want!" he said in an irritated voice. "I was just checking out how the bottle I left for you worked out," I said apologetically. "Oh, so it was YOU who turned my sweet little Anna into a horny bitch!" "Uhm, no.. She did that herself. Didn't you have any?" I said, afraid to scan his mind to find out. "Hell yeah. And it was the best god damn sex I've had in my life. But after Anna wore me out, she went looking for some more, and now she's in there fucking our God damn superintendent," he said, motioning towards the back bedrooms. "I'd break the bottle over your head if I wasn't too tired to go get it." I spotted the three-fourths full bottle of drink on the kitchen table, then quickly checked to see how much Anna had drank. "Uhm, I hate to tell you this, but... Your wife hasn't had a drop of that stuff..." "Tell me something I don't know. If you hadn't given her that damn stuff, I would have never broke the fuckin' hypnotic suggestion by plowing her ass. Now get out of here before I make you think you're a banana who needs peeled," he said and slammed the door in my face. I stood there blinking my surprise, realizing Mr. Samson was a master hypnotist that had long ago conditioned his wife to be his little slut, then later attempted to reverse it when he had lost his interest in sex. But the hypnotic suggestion he used to inhibit her wild sexual urges had been degrading, and it had only been a matter of time before she would have been fucking the super anyway. As I was walking down the hall towards the stairs, Mr. Samson opened the door and shouted, "And take this god damn stuff with you!" before tossing the bottle to me, not caring if I caught it or not. I dived for the bottle and managed to just touch the side of it before it hit the floor and bounced. Between my slight push and the cushioning of the carpeted floor, the bottle didn't shatter, just ended up on its side ten feet away. However, the carpet burns on my arms made me a bit angry at Mr. Samson, so once I had the bottle in my hand, I went right up to the old man's door and rang the doorbell continuously until he flung the door open and shouted "WHAT!" "You didn't thank me," I said calmly but with eyes betraying my anger. "Thank You?!?" he said disbelievingly and almost welcoming a challenge to his authority. He reached out and grabbed me, pulling me inside and throwing me to the floor with surprising strength. I was still in shock when I felt the familiar sensations of someone attempting to penetrate my mental shield. I looked up and found Mr. Samson staring at me intensely, his eyes open to where they were almost perfectly round. His pathetic attempt to "hypnotize" me caused a chuckle to escape my lips, but I sobered up instantly when his fist came flying towards me. I managed to divert it physically, then easily flipped the zombie switch in his head. "Look. I have to go see a woman about a father for her child, and don't have time to play with you. From now on, you will have sex with your wife whenever she wishes and however she likes it. You will focus your attention on pleasing her in every way possible. After she finishes with the super, you will do everything possible to prevent her from wanting another man as long as you shall live. Understand?" "Yes..." he said distantly. "Good. Now get in there and please your wife while she finishes blowing him." I turned around and left without another word.After his robe parted and I got a glimpse of his rather ancient and small hard dick, it was all I could do to keep myself from snickering again. I climbed the stairs examining his memories, finding he had been a very naughty boy. He never realized he had any special abilities, just believed he had a knack for hypnotizing people. I figured his belief he had hypnotized his subjects was the reason why he never enslaved more than one or two people at a time. Lately, he had been using his abilities on a few 'patients' who just happened to be investors. They were handling his retirement fund while he 'treated' them for their smoking habit. I loosened some of the restrictions on the future use of his powers, seeing they would be in trouble financially if he lost his free will to his wife's released sexual desire. I reduced the programming he had unknowingly given her many years ago, then closed the links I had on their minds as I knocked on Kathleen's brother's door. When no one answered, I scanned the room inside and found Kathleen and the two children in the little girl's room. I made Kathleen believe she heard the door, then waited, feeling her excitement and anxiety growing as she walked towards the door. When she opened the door, I was surprised to find her face literally painted with makeup. She saw the shock on my face and her anxiety vanished as she said, "You like it?" Seeing I would only make things worse by lying, I said, "Actually, I liked it better without all that stuff on." Her face fell, her anxiety wiping out the excitement she had felt. But she surprisingly recovered very quickly and said, "Do you want to come in, or stand in the hall for the rest of the afternoon?" "What's that?" she said after shutting the door behind me. "Just something to put you in the mood," I said, rubbing the neck of the bottle against her lovely ass. She turned bright red from my actions and words, then hurried down the hall to get the kids. I watched her ass the whole way, knowing I would be having all I wanted of it before the afternoon was up. Bobby clung to her like he would fall off the ends of the earth if he let go, while Tara came right up to me and said hello. Tara was six, while Bobby was nearly four years old. But besides the age difference, there was another obvious difference. Bobby's darker skin and tight curly dark hair prompted me to check Kathleen's mind for an image of Josh. As I suspected, Josh was black. That explains why her images of Josh's body had such a deep dark tan. I kicked myself REALLY hard for not realizing the truth to that before. Kathleen started making toasted cheese sandwiches for everyone while I entertained the two children. I easily made Bobby think I was the neatest thing since discovering the Smurfs on TV, and found myself unable to probe for any more information since the three of us had started a pillow fight. Despite my size, they easily defeated me. I was still pretty tired from the day before. And once I finally surrendered, I found myself needing to take a leak. Kathleen called the kids to the table, and I excused myself to the restroom as she was cutting up Bobby's sandwich into little squares. Instead of staying on my feet, I sat down on the seat and rested a few minutes extra after finishing my long pee. When I finally returned to the others, I failed to notice the two kids hadn't touched their sandwiches and were begging Kathleen for another glass of juice. "Can they have another glass?" she asked me. I was about to ask her why she was asking me when my eyes fell upon my glass filled with a light purple liquid. I looked over at the bottle of drink that was now only a third full, then glanced down at her own nearly empty glass. "Definitely not!" I said, getting up in a hurry. "You shouldn't have given them or yourself any without asking me first." "Why? Are you saying it's.." "No, it isn't poison or anything. It's just... In about five minutes, I'm going to have two very hyper kids and one horny mother to deal with." No sooner than I said that, Tara started chasing Bobby around the sofa. I scanned their minds and found they were already feeling the sugar rush of the drink. I was surprised to find Bobby's little dick was hard, and Tara was having similar prepubescent arousal. The young girl that Penny had used the drink on the last summer hadn't felt aroused, but then she had been extremely scared, and maybe that was why. Kathleen wasn't feeling the effects yet, so I guessed the two children's metabolism had absorbed the drink faster than hers. Figuring I only had a minute or two before Kathleen would be trying to seduce me, I wolfed down the sandwiches, catching myself when I nearly took a sip of the drink. By the time I was finished, Kathleen was battling her urge to fuck me where I stood. I sent the two hyper children to Tara's room, then allowed Kathleen to drag me to the master bedroom where I closed and locked the door. Kathleen pressed her body up against my back and ground her crotch into my ass as her hands undid my pants. I was getting really turned on by her movements, but as I kicked my pants off and turned around, her over made-up face repelled my desire to suck on it. "Why do you ruin your look with that shit," I said, trying to rub it off with my fingers. "It makes me feel sexy," she said, attempting to press her almost black painted lips against my natural colored ones. "Well, I'm sorry, but if you want me to have sex with you, you're gonna have to clean that stuff off your face." "Fuck me!" she demanded, pushing me down on the floor and struggling to remove her own pants. I sighed, then captured her eyes with mine and said, "Go clean your face, or I will leave." The seriousness of my words was amplified by the truth my empathic talents transmitted to her. With hurt feelings, she got up and dashed to the bathroom. While she was furiously scrubbing her face, I removed my shirt and climbed on the bed. I was going to enjoy making her do all the work, teasing her by making her go slow when her desire was insisting on speed. I would use her own lust to enslave her to my will, help her talk things through with Josh, then set her free once things were stable there. With Josh being black and Kathleen being white, I wasn't going to force them to work things out to the point they would get married. I didn't have a problem with their interracial relationship, but felt because the racial barrier existed, I had to let them work those kinds of things out without my interference. All I was going to do was ensure Josh didn't reject Kathleen and Bobby when he found out about his son, and then probably enforce that he took his share of the responsibility for the boy. By the time she got back to the room with a clean face, Kathleen's pants were off and her panties had a large wet spot in the crotch. Her shirt was fairly wet from all the scrubbing she did, and I couldn't help but gawk at her nipples showing through the wet material. Her eyes instantly locked on to my hard dick sticking straight up, and she was about to remove her panties when I stopped her. "You're not going to just walk in here and fuck without giving me some head, now are you?" I teased. When she indicated she was going to do just that, I shook my head and said, "Nope. You're gonna have to suck me off first. Then if you do a good job with that, I'll let you wrap your slutty cunt around my manhood so you can get off." The indecision in her eyes slowly melted as she watched my dick move with my pulse, and after about a minute of staring, she knelt over it and opened her mouth to take it in. She had never given fellatio before, and it showed. After she had scraped the rim of my dick with her teeth, I nearly slapped her across the face with the back of my hand when she tried to chew on it experimentally. My hand had come up immediately to push her away, but the speed of which I had done it would have felt like a slap if it had connected with her pretty face. Kathleen was finally getting the hang of it after twenty minutes of my instruction and guidance. Actually, not only was she getting the hang of it, she was also finding it very pleasurable, mostly due to the verbal suggestions I had been making, as the drink increased the sensitivity of her mind towards sexual stimulus. By the time her mouth was truly giving me good head, I knew I had conditioned her enough that she would insist on giving her future sexual partner(s) frequent blowjobs. I had been resisting the urge to take her head in my hands like I had trained LeAnne to accept so well, and as I felt my arousal climbing steadily towards its final destination, I was struggling against this even more. This conflict within me became so large, my arousal slowed then retreated, and eventually I was having to tell her to stop. Apparently, I had been successful in eliminating her displeasure towards giving oral sex. She had pulled her mouth off my dick and began cleaning my family jewels with her tongue and later pulled them into her mouth. This she had done with great care, putting a lot of effort into doing it as gently as she could. When I found myself approaching the point of no return, I informed her I was about to cum. As her mouth once again sucked on my dick, I knew not only had my suggestions taken hold, but they had started to grow. The liquid lust flowing through her blood was temporarily fixating her sexual desire on the blowjob she was performing. I put the cap on my orgasm at the last moment when I realized she could work out the effects of the drink without having to resort to sexual intercourse. My own exhaustion wasn't entirely the reason for my hope to avoid intercourse. I knew if we fucked, she would have to do all the work, and then she would be too tired to meet with Josh that evening.By amplifying the stimulation she felt while she blew me, the drink was driving her arousal towards orgasm while burning the sensations deeper into her mind. I knew that Kathleen would later find the concept of sucking cock increasingly arousing, and if she went too long without resolving these new impulses, she probably would have become obsessed with sucking cock in a few years. But I wouldn't let that happen. I was a little surprised when her saliva started to run down to the base of my cock, and her mouth became increasingly desperate and warm. Her slurps and breathing were making me lose control, and I gave out a long moan as she pulled it momentarily into her throat. Her repeated attempts to capture more of my meat finally drove me to the point where I had to take a more active part in the sex play. I knew I was giving up on a greater pleasure by letting myself have this smaller one, but there would be plenty of other sexy women like Kathleen I could break to my will without having to rush. By the time I had resolved all this and made my decision, Kathleen had reached the point where she was freely swallowing my cock, and her mind had reached the point where I knew she would blindly accept anything I did. I hadn't fucked a mouth since LeAnne graduated from my slut academy, so I began seeding her mind with images and sensations I had collected from LeAnne. Within minutes, Kathleen was on her back, trying to pull my crotch to her open mouth while I tried to comply with her wishes. As I slid into her sucking mouth, my eyes were captured by her drenched panties. My mouth watered for her wet pussy as I slowly began the humping of her mouth. My eyes never left her moist crotch while slowly pumping my cock in and out of her struggling mouth and throat, waiting for her to learn how to breathe in between my cock's plunges. When I grew impatient from her inability to figure it out, I simply programmed her with the knowledge, then slipped her panties off so I could suck and fuck at the same time. I quickly discovered I didn't have the energy to do both at the same time, and that my prolonged state of arousal was starting to take its toll. So I took off the block on my orgasm and concentrated on bringing my arousal back up so I could blow. Kathleen's mouth must have been in such a shape that it was difficult for her to keep her teeth from scraping. Three times her teeth managed to cripple my rising orgasm, and after that third shock, I was too frustrated and tired to continue like that. I rolled us over and began my feast on her juices after providing her the motivations to ensure she wouldn't scrape her teeth again. As Kathleen began to fuck my dick with her mouth once more, I immediately noticed the changes I had made, finding the slickened lips of her mouth wrapped tightly around my rod like an O-ring. This hampered her humping actions a bit since her mouth no longer allowed air to flow in and out while my dick filled then vacated her mouth and throat. But she quickly adapted by modifying her breathing patterns, and was starting to use her tongue more and more. My orgasm peaked suddenly and without warning. She pulled my dick deep into her throat and kept it there just the way I like it, then she too began her orgasm. Her crotch began humping my face wildly just as my orgasm sputtered out. That had been a very big disappointment for me, but then if I had wanted a spectacular one, I would have loaded up on the drink. Kathleen continued her orgasmic humping which began to hurt my face. I managed to force her off of me, then began manipulating her nervous system to provide the sensations of my dick fucking her spasming pussy. I closed my eyes and physically relaxed as much as possible while operating my invisible dick on her. She thrashed and moaned, trying to force the feeling deeper into her cunt, eventually falling off the bed while continuing her desperate thrusting. After ten minutes of humping air on the floor, Kathleen finally settled herself down and laid on the floor gasping, then crawled back on the bed and quickly fell asleep beside me. I was also on my way to snoozeville when I noticed the strange sounds coming through the open doorway. I nearly fell getting off the bed when I found the source of the noises with my mind. Tara's door was only slightly open and the strange yet familiar sounds became much louder as I approached. I flung the door open to find Tara on top of Bobby humping madly, imitating one of the scenes they had witnessed the day before. The sight of these two children fucking like adults made my jaw drop in astonishment, and I stood there watching them, stunned beyond the ability to think. Their faces had captured my fascination with their expressions of pure lust-driven pleasure on them. It made them look like miniature adults having great sex, and as Bobby squealed with his orgasm again, my dick rose and fully hardened. It was the dirtiest thing I had seen. Two innocent kids fucking with the intent and need of two teenagers, totally lost in the bliss of their pleasure while still retaining enough contact with the world around them to induce more pleasure on their partner. Tara's flat chest and blocky figure made her almost appear like a boy, but her long girly hair gave her enough femininity that it was easy to forget they were both way too young to feel the way they were feeling. The age difference between the two made her larger body nearly hide Bobby's features all together, but there was no need to see him for his gasps and heavy breathing told me he was nearing another orgasm. Tara squealed out her own orgasm, then immediately slid down and began kissing the willing three-year-old. I didn't even realize I had been standing there jacking my dick off until their mad sloppy French kissing caused me to blow my load onto the carpet in front of me. I sunk down to the floor, and was trying to recover my energy when the movement on the little girl's bed changed. My dick struggled to rise again as I found Bobby humping her like a pro and obviously close to achieving another dry orgasm. While I knew what was happening was wrong, I couldn't bring myself to stop it. It was so dirty and arousing, I sat there for nearly twenty minutes watching them take turns at humping each other while I continued to pound my not-so-willing meat. Finally, when their energy and lust gave out, Bobby curled up next to Tara's sweaty body and fell asleep as soon as he stopped moving. I sneaked out of the room as Tara gave her cousin a gentle kiss on the forehead, then closed the door as her own eyes shut to join his slumber. The picture of Bobby curled up against her is one of the most innocent images my eyes have ever witnessed. One second he had been fucking her cunt like a man, the next he returned to being the baby he was. So instead of making them forget what had happened, I simply motivated them towards concealing it, and made a few adjustments to prevent their experiences from causing any harmful side effects. (This single decision, made while I was too sleepy to really consider the consequences, would eventually drag me down one of those paths I had decided not to take. But that wouldn't happen for another two years, and by that time I wasn't fully in control of my actions or even my feelings. I just wonder what would have happened if I had done something different that day.) Once I had finished my hurried attempts to fix the two young children's minds, I collapsed on the couch and instantly fell asleep.Before he could even finish the thought, Josh was flooded with the need to return to his girlfriend. His eyes fogged up as quickly as they had cleared, and again the door slammed shut. I whirled around when I noticed my two companions were quickly moving back down the hall, almost as if they were fleeing. I was about to reach out and stop them when I suddenly noticed the small deflections against my mental shielding. The commands were so faint that I hadn't noticed their presence until that moment. I froze as the realization formed that I had almost unknowingly interfered with another telepath who apparently knew what they were doing. But when the commands stopped and I didn't feel any attempts to probe my thoughts as I had anticipated, I dared to risk sending out my own little probe. Teresa Barns, a twenty-one-year-old high school dropout, was as ignorant of the true nature of her 'magic' as Mr. Samson had been of his. Where Mr. Samson had thought he could hypnotize practically anyone if he concentrated enough while staring at his victim with his goofy look, Teresa believed she was some sort of sexual witch, and that her power was fueled by sex. Teresa grew up in a very poor neighborhood, the daughter of an unmarried and out-of-work woman who in Teresa's mind supported herself by having more kids. She had been raped by one of her older brothers at the age of nine, but when that same brother gave her first orgasm at the age of thirteen, her views of how males could make her feel changed drastically. Teresa had made a name for herself at her high school as being the easiest girl in the state. While she resented the title, she consciously felt it was true too. The joy of having a cock in her pussy had become an obsession, and she had nearly thrown herself at almost every guy she thought would be a good fuck. But her orgasms had become less frequent and powerful until they stopped altogether nearly two years after that very first one. Teresa had become so desperate for another orgasm that guys only had to glance at the janitor's closet she used as her private fuck parlor to have her offer herself for their cock's pleasure. She had to fuck all five janitors on a weekly basis to keep her parlor, but at that point it was just another drop in the ocean. Just before her sixteenth birthday, Teresa was giving a special welcome to a new student at the school. The senior was no virgin, and she hoped he had the endurance to make her cum. But as she first felt the beginnings of an orgasm, he blew his load and then slowed down to stop. Teresa's desperation peaked at that moment, and suddenly Teresa found herself being fucked like never before. Her orgasm began forming again, building in size and energy as the massive senior pumped his cock deeper and harder than anyone had before. And after it finally exploded into the greatest orgasm she had ever felt, Teresa instantly desired to feel it again. But that didn't happen until two days later when one of her neighbors had heard of her reputation and had invited her over to his place. Teresa wasn't very sure of whether it was safe or not, but one look at the bulge of his crotch made up her mind for her. He actually showed her around his place, and Teresa was fairly impressed. His apartment was probably the nicest in the building, and even had working air conditioning. The last room he showed her was of course his bedroom, and there wasn't any further discussion before they were nude on the bed humping away. And just like last time, Teresa had just begun to feel what would grow to be an orgasm when he blew. Before he had a chance to slow down, Teresa's desperation flared and she again found herself being fucked with incredible energy. Her orgasm was as good as the last, and she knew she had done something to obtain it. It took her four weeks of fucking her neighbor after school and over the weekends to finally get a grasp of her power. On her sixteenth birthday, Teresa quit school and moved into his nicer apartment. She practiced her newfound abilities on him and a few others in the building, and found she needed a fresh fuck to keep her powers sharp. Actually, I believe she simply got bored with the guy she lived with because I couldn't find any real cause for her powers to dull except psychological. After hopping from apartment to apartment, Teresa finally realized she didn't have to live in that run-down building. Ever since then, she had been working her way up in the world by finding a guy with a nicer income and apartment to live with. Josh apparently had matured considerably since Kathleen had last known him. He had excelled in college, and now had a very good job as a mechanical engineer, and there was no doubt in my mind that for Bobby's sake, Teresa had to move on. Since I had the car keys, I knew Kathleen couldn't really go anywhere without using public transportation. And seeing she had locked her purse up in my car, I didn't worry about them as I turned the unlocked door knob and entered the apartment. Seeing the half-emptied boxes laying around the room, I realized Josh had only just moved in. Or I should say Josh and Teresa had, for I noted many of the items were obviously hers and not his. Their moans from the bedroom to my right gave me a woody, and my dick almost jerked itself out of my pants when I first saw them. And smelled them. My nose was blasted by the odor of sex as Josh's well-muscled body pumped his larger-than-average cock into the black woman's cunt. Just from the odor, I could tell they had been going for over an hour. Teresa was in a state of deep mental concentration and physical relaxation while Josh steadily pumped in and out like a well-oiled machine. Machine was a very good term for him. He hovered effortlessly over her, all his weight on his toes and hands as he flexed his body in his fucking motions. His entire body was muscular beyond just someone who worked out, and his dark skin glistened with only a light coat of sweat while he almost mindlessly kept his steady pace. Teresa had met him at his graduation party almost a year before. Before the party had ended, she had decided he would be her next provider, and the next day began working on making him fall hopelessly in love with her. Her last provider had spent every night for nearly two weeks fucking her like Josh was doing in front of me, powering her abilities to alter and control others. The day Teresa showed up at his door, Josh immediately offered her his soul which she accepted. But to my surprise, Teresa hadn't used her powers for her own gains apart from obtaining a free meal ticket and upgrading her accommodations. In fact, at the time I was standing there with my dick in my hand, her mind was working on helping a man she just had met get over his drinking habit and go back to his wife and two-year-old daughter. I found Teresa had outgrown her adolescent need for sex, and at one time had become so bored with it that she had released her five enslaved men and gone on a little soul-searching. After visiting the church she had gone to as a child, she found herself wishing to aid the many people who came there for help. So she decided to do just that, and at the age of nineteen, she became a guardian angel of sorts. To add to my newly formed troubles about breaking them up, I found she had formed genuine feelings for Josh. Josh's own love had been forced upon him, but I still felt he might have freely loved her if given the chance. She wasn't a bad woman, and his body had long ago stopped aching from the long hours of fucking like that. And to be honest, Josh would have never done so well at his job, or at least so quickly if Teresa hadn't been pushing him to stretch his own abilities at work. He was doing the work of two men in two-thirds the time it would take them, and felt absolutely no stress about it, especially since he went home every day and spent four hours having sex with his woman. While Josh had that ability all along, he would have never attempted to do two men's work without being driven by Teresa's will. So, I decided I would have to wait and see her reaction to Josh having a son to help support before worrying about making her leave or not. I was startled when they both started moaning again, and saw she was in the middle of focusing her mind on another task. I had just put my dick back in my pants, but got it back out again as Teresa actively returned his humps. But then as quickly as they started, they stopped their exchanging of moans, and I felt her mind working on making a boy never wanting to have a father, and I almost yipped when I realized it was Bobby. "Hey! Stop that!" I said out loud. Teresa's eyes snapped open and looked at me with surprise. I realized just then that she didn't really have any real control over her powers. She would will things to happen, and her subconscious would figure out how to do it. But she never had felt another person's mind or had even considered using it as a way to find something out. In other words, she had learned about Bobby's existence because Josh had told her before he slipped into his fucking trance. When she had wished for the people at the door to go away, she had no idea someone hadn't complied with her wishes. Josh began pumping harder, and I felt her attempting to take my mind to protect herself. I was surprised to find the strength of her power increasing as Josh increased his speed. "I wouldn't bother. Josh will run out of steam before you could possibly have a chance at penetrating my mind. My name's Tim, and I'm a friend of that boy you were trying to make hate his father." "I wasn't making him hate anyone," she said in a surprisingly deep but distinctively female voice. "Sorry," I said, feeling a little relief as Josh slowed down. "Bad choice of words. But you know it wasn't right to do that.A minute ago, I didn't think you could do such a thing. Even though I was a stranger to her, my words triggered an apologetic expression, one you would expect to see on a child's face who had just been caught doing something they knew they shouldn't by their mother. Josh lowered his not-so-tired body on top of hers and began kissing her neck, continuing to hump, but in a more conventional manner. "I'm sorry," she said with sincerity. But most of that sincerity was lost as her hands started feeling his sweaty back and ass, then her mouth opened to suck on his sweaty shoulder. But as she allowed his orgasm to build, she never took her eyes off me. "Down, boy," I told my dick. I knew she was attempting to cloud my mind so she could perhaps seduce me if she needed to. I was even tempted to allow her to try, but I wanted to get home sometime this week, and knew Bobby was starting to get crabby on Kathleen. But then I had a perverted idea that wouldn't hurt anything to try. I took my rehardening dick out and walked up to the edge of the bed. Since she thought she was winning, she quickly took it in her hand. But the moment she did so, she felt my magic touch through her skin and found herself unable to let go for the pleasure. As her eyes glazed over and moved their stare to the cock in her hand, she knew she had lost the battle. And when she found herself unable to resist the urge to take it in her mouth, she had a moment's concern that she had lost more than just one battle. Her lips trembled before they wrapped themselves around their first cock in over three years. Her head hung upside down over the bed, taking my dick into her hot, wet mouth while Josh continued fucking her cunt. I linked our orgasms together, then brought Teresa's orgasmic threshold down to a more normal level and permanently fixed it there. After all the sex she had performed attempting to cross her ever-rising threshold, I don't believe even my magic touch could have stimulated her enough to reach that high state of arousal. When her hands grabbed my ass to pull me further into her mouth, I waited for her signal before trying a little mouth fucking. I had never done it like that before. Brad and Sandi did it all the time, probably because that had been the way they had done it their first time. I had always felt it was a bit dangerous with their neck taking on so much stress, but Teresa wasn't about to call Josh off so she could move into an upright position, and it did feel pretty good to me. All right, so I let myself enjoy it a little bit more than I probably should have. And when I saw her left breast out in the open like that, I just had to taste it. I bent down to suckle at its nipple, but then Teresa suddenly pushed me in all the way and held me there, thinking I was about to cum. Because our orgasms were linked, the combination of my lips on her tit and her throat swallowing my cock's head, we did cum. But she hadn't expected she would cum with us. In the middle of our orgasm, Teresa gagged from trying to scream her pleasure, so I managed to pull my spurting cock out of her mouth. Her hands grabbed it too late to save any of my remaining spunk, but Josh's and her own orgasm lasted for a few moments longer. Her old habits came back to her as soon as her mind cleared a bit. She was slobbering on my deflating cock, trying to work me back up to get another orgasm from me and herself. I knew my dick didn't have it in him to go for another round without the drink, but when she had successfully revived my hardon, I decided to use it to build her frustration back up, then cut her a deal. Josh was out cold as I teased her nipples and neck with my finger's magic touch. Her sucking and moaning sounds were getting me stirred up again, then she suddenly pushed me back and struggled to pull herself from under Josh's sleeping body. She reared her ass up in the air, then in the deepest, sexiest, huskiest voice I've ever heard, she said, "Fuck me." I hadn't considered having to resist her incredibly sexy ass like that. It took every bit of willpower to say, "Blup." "What?" she said in a desperate voice. I asked myself the same question, but then all I could think to say was "Blup" again. "Fuck ME!" she said, spreading her legs a little more so I could see the bright pink insides of her pussy. By that time, I had gained enough control to say, "Nope," then pulled my pants up while struggling towards the door. She dashed in front of me and blocked the door with her nude body. "What do you mean, 'nope'?!" she said with her deep, sexy voice. "I mean, no, I won't fuck you. Took you longer than I expected to realize you could have used your orgasm to break through my shield. It wouldn't have worked anyway." She suddenly shoved me to the floor with herself on top of me, sucking my neck and quickly undoing my pants. When my dick expanded to full hardness, she licked her way up to my ear and said, "Are you sure of that?" "Down, boy," I said. I watched the frustration grow on her face as my cock shriveled up, but then had to adjust my command set to relieve the discomfort of having too little blood down there. I kind of overdid it. She looked at my amused face, then threw herself off of me in a huff. "What do you want from me?" she said with disgust in her voice. "Nothing you can't replace. Bobby needs his father, and his mother needs someone who can support him while she goes to college like she always wanted. And thanks to you, Josh can easily afford to do that. But not while he has to support you too." "I'm not gonna give this bitch my man just so she can go to college," she said with a growing anger. She had already found a pair of panties in the cluttered room to put on, and when she spotted her box of bras, she pulled one out to put on while she said, "What's she gonna give me that's worth busting my ass while I don't have a man or a place to stay?" "She's not going to give you anything. But I'll give you something better than she or Josh could ever offer you." "And what's that? Your white dick up my ass?" she sneered as she pulled on the pair of tight jeans she had grabbed from a suitcase. I hopped over a few boxes to get close enough to touch her, and when she moved to defend herself, I held up my hands to show her I meant no harm. "Just this," I said, holding out my right index finger and slowly moving it closer to her nose. She jerked her head away from it twice just before it made contact, fearing I was about to trick her somehow. But when her eyes glanced at my face, I captured them with my own, and formed an empathic connection to relay my intentions to do her no harm. When my finger touched her nose, she felt it tingle with pleasure that began spreading to every nerve in her body. She wobbled three times before I helped her down to the floor, then her eyes shut tight and her mouth released a lovely, deep moan. I sat on the floor next to her while she wiggled and gasped from the orgasm flowing through her body. Teresa had always pushed her orgasms, wanting to increase the intensity of pleasure by compacting it into one powerful burst. She had never before felt what a slowly built-up orgasm felt like, and as she reached the peak of her ecstasy, I knew she wouldn't refuse my offer. Ten minutes later, Josh was getting dressed, feeling very nervous about meeting his son. Teresa and I tried to clean up the room a little before Kathleen and Bobby arrived, and did a pretty good job of it in the few minutes we had. As agreed, Teresa left a minute before Kathleen and Bobby rang the doorbell. She wouldn't come back until after we left, and I had given her two weeks to find herself a new home and move out. While Josh answered the door, I finished editing Teresa's unconscious programming of his mind, finding that the commands had been nice and simple and very efficient. Actually, the only thing I really did was make her forced love expire at the end of two weeks. The rest I figured was fine as it was. I was there for an hour listening to two strangers catch up on old times, and I guess Josh took pity on me. He offered to drive them home if I wanted to take off, and I probably agreed a little too easily. But Kathleen gave me a nice thank-you kiss, and then sweet Bobby got upset because I was leaving. But I suppose my favorite thank-you was from Teresa. After I had brought up Kathleen's things from my car, I found Teresa sitting in the passenger seat. "Uhm, you need a lift or something?" I asked as I got in. She said in her deep, womanly voice, "You forget we had a deal. There's something you haven't given me." "What's that?" I said, frowning. "Your white dick up my ass," she said, putting the seat back. Let's just say that after fucking her lovely brown butt, I grabbed the bottle of remaining drink and gulped it down to have another go. There is nothing like a good Hershey, and once I got past the wrapper, I found a golden heart at the center of a lot of sweet and tasty goodness.

Chapter XI: 10th Grade, Spring 1987 - Part 7 - Apartments 6c and 9c

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/7754.txt

Scamp(UK)

My Mom's a Babe

"NOT A WORD, JUST GO TO YOUR ROOM AND PACK!" Mom was in a foul mood. Mom and Dad had been planning this holiday for ages, and the day we were due to go, bang! Dad's office called - an important client wanted some work done like yesterday, and they wanted Dad. I guess it was kind of flattering they chose him, and it made his promotion all the more certain, but was Mom interested? No! Dad just managed to get out of the house in one piece, leaving me to face the music. I didn't want to go to the coast; I'd have rather stayed at home with the guys from school and surfed the net. I was about to say so too, when I saw that look on Mom's face. You know the one, the one that says, "Just you dare step out of line, mister!" "Yes, Mom!" I ran to my room and packed everything I needed in about 10 minutes flat. The drive was long and boring. I sat staring out of the window and wondered if I could survive two weeks away from my PC. It was late evening when we arrived, the sun was just going down; a few people walked the beach. It was that in-between time when people were busy preparing for the night ahead after an exhausting day relaxing on the beach. Mom had calmed down by now and was beginning to regret what she had called Dad. She knew it wasn't his fault, and he was as disappointed as she was. Why did this always have to happen? As we were on holiday, Mom let me have a few beers while we watched TV. We were both surprisingly tired. I fell asleep on the couch, well, that's where I was when I woke up the next morning. The sun poured in through the wide beach house windows, and the delicious smell of eggs and bacon wafted from the kitchen. I swung my legs off the couch and stood up. SHIT! The whole room jumped 3 feet to the left; I sat back down again as my head began to spin. Mom walked in with a beaming smile. "Well, mister, I thought you could handle your drink?" "Get a doctor, Mom! I think I'm dying!" Mom handed me a glass full of white fizzy water. "Ugh!" it was awful. "You'll survive, have some breakfast, you'll feel a lot better." After wolfing my breakfast down and drinking several mugs of black coffee, well, that's what they do in the movies, my head felt lots better, my stomach felt worse. Eventually, my body decided I was too young to die just yet, and I felt okay by about lunchtime. I decided to see what the outside world looked like; I went out onto the front porch. My jaw hit the floor, my eyes bulged out so much they hurt - wall-to-wall female flesh, everywhere! "So you found the door at last!" I turned to face Mom, "O man." Mom was walking towards me, almost wearing a white bikini. Two tiny white triangles covered her nipples, leaving nearly all of her large white breasts uncovered. My eyes moved down her body; her bottom half was equally exposed. A thin strip of material covered her pussy, held in place by thin ties on each side. Mom was about as naked as you could get with your clothes on. "Don't be such a prude, Terry!" I closed my mouth and smiled. "Wow! Mom, I bet you're the best-looking woman on the beach." "Why, thank you; this was supposed to be a surprise for your father. I guess he'll just have to wait until next year now." "Oh! Mom, you're a real babe. I bet all the guys on the beach will go blind looking at you." Mom smiled at me. "Well, they're out of luck - you can tell them from me, this babe is private property, the property of the Carlson family." "You bet, Mom!" As Mom walked indoors, I just couldn't help looking at her ass, the bikini disappeared between her firm cheeks. Oh, fuck, was I hard. Mom reappeared 5 minutes later with a tube of sun cream, her tits jiggled as she rubbed the cream into her skin. She slid her hands over her breasts, giving them a gentle squeeze as she smoothed in the thick white sun block. I limped to my room, trying to hide my hard-on, and jerked off over a mental picture of my mother!I was disappointed that I couldn't see much of her pussy, as mom's hand was in the way. "Ooooooooh!" Mom's chest was thrust out, as her breathing became heavier, her hand worked on her pussy faster and harder. "Nnnnnnnnghgh!" Mom's whole body went stiff, then seemed to judder as she came. Silently, I crept back to my room, wondering what new opportunities tomorrow would bring. The following day, mom asked if I was going out anywhere. I told her I was going to wander into town and would probably be gone for 3 to 4 hours. This was a lie, as it was just so obvious that mom didn't want me around. We said our goodbyes, and I walked until I was out of sight of the house, then turned around and crept back in. I watched as mom hung some towels along the front of the porch, making sure that no one on the beach could see her. She sat on her beach towel and took off the top of her bikini, quickly followed by the bottoms. She smoothed the sun cream over her body, paying special attention to her nipples and pussy. Mom lay on her back, legs open wide, fingering herself. By now, my prick was as hard as iron. I went to my room and loaded my auto-focus pocket camera. On the fourth attempt, I managed to get the film in, and I crept downstairs. Mom had finished playing with herself, and disappointed, I had to think of what to do. Mom had dozed off; her slow, rhythmic breathing caused her still-excited breasts to move up and down. I walked out onto the porch and took the first of 36 pictures. How I was going to get them developed was something I would have to figure out later. I let mom doze for an hour; I changed into my trunks, re-loaded my camera, and walked onto the porch. "Hi, mom!" Mom looked up at me, still half-asleep. "Wow! You look really great!" I raised the camera and fired off 3 shots. "Nooooooo!" Mom suddenly remembered she was naked, as she sat up and tried to cover herself, I fired off several more pictures. "W, What are you doing here?" "The town's dead, so I came back early." Mom had her right hand over her pussy and her left hand covered her right breast. Her left breast bulged over her arm, fully exposed. I fired off some more shots. Mom was flustered; she didn't know what to do. "Stop that! NOW!" "What's wrong, mom? You look beautiful." "That's not the point!" "Who's the prude now! Anyway, these will show dad what he's missed." Mom thought for a moment, then smiled, "He'll be really pissed, won't he?" "Sure! And I bet he doesn't miss another holiday, that's what you want, isn't it?" Mom grinned, "Okay, mister; how do you want me?" This was amazing; it has got to be a dream! I got mom to kneel with her knees about a foot apart and cupping her breasts with her hands. I slowly made the poses more daring, holding just her nipples, she pulled her heavy breasts upwards. She knelt on all fours, pulling her ass cheeks apart, displaying her tight asshole. Legs spread as wide as she could get them, mom held her pussy open. I moved closer as she tweaked her clit. Mom's moans became louder as she pushed her fingers deeper into her wet pussy. I let mom get on with the show as I took more pictures. "O Terry! I'm cumming, your mom's cumming!" "Unnnnnghgh!" Mom's whole body shook, then went limp; she lay there, fingers still inside herself, smiling at me. I took the two last pictures on the roll. "If you're going to lay in the sun, I'd better put some cream on you!" "You do whatever you want, Terry." I stood over mom and pulled my trunks to one side, releasing my hard cock. Mom's eyes widened; she was about to stop me. "It's only fair, mom! I watched you, you should get to watch me!" She relaxed as I started pumping my prick with my hand. She watched every movement, and mom licked her lips in anticipation. As I wanked, I knelt down, now straddled over mom's belly. My right hand pumped harder, and my left reached out and began teasing mom's right nipple. She made a small cooing sound but made no move to stop me. "Here it comes, mom, here it is!" My first jet of cum landed on mom's tits. I managed to move forwards slightly. The second and third squirts hit her face, at least half going into her open mouth. She licked her lips and swallowed. I reached down and pushed all the cum still on mom's face into her mouth. She sucked my finger as it slid between her lips, then using both hands, I massaged the white, sticky blobs of cum that were on her tits into her skin until it had all been absorbed by her body. "O boy! That was really great, mom!" "Glad to have been of service, sir!" she said sarcastically. "Now how about a proper rub down before I burn out here!" I picked up a bottle of sun oil; mom had used up all the cream. I poured some onto her belly and began rubbing it in. With slow, deliberate motions, I covered her body with a layer of shimmering oil. Saving the best for last, I had only mom's tits and pussy to do. Mom gasped as I poured the cool oil over each of her nipples. As I massaged her breasts, her nipples returned to their previous state of excitement. I loved it as they puffed up; her whole areola formed a perfect brown dome that stood an inch high, tipped with mom's erect teats. Mom opened her legs; I poured oil directly onto her pussy. Mom groaned and wiggled her hips. I slowly massaged her lips, my fingers brushing against her clit as they found mom's hole. My fingers slid into mom's pussy with ease, lubricated by sun oil and pussy juice. Her pussy was ready and willing. "Not just yet, baby! Do your mommy's back first." Mom rolled over, and I started again. By now, my prick was hard and ready for action, but I didn't mind. I was sure I was going to fuck mom, and I knew that she was worth the wait. Her ass looked at me, inviting me to touch it. The oil ran over her cheeks as I poured it on. I placed the bottle between her cheeks and watched mom wriggle as the oil ran between, over her asshole, and onto her already wet pussy. As I rubbed her ass, I let my hand slide between her ass cheeks and started to massage her anus; I felt it open slightly and grip the tip of my finger. Mom raised her ass, and I pushed; mom groaned as my finger went inside her. As I finger-fucked mom's ass, I pushed in two fingers. Mom began frigging herself. It wasn't long before mom climaxed, as her body jerked, her ass seemed to suck my fingers as deep as they could go. "O Terry, you've been real good to your mom today, let me rest now, okay, baby?" Mom must have seen the look of pure lust written all over my face turn to frustration and disappointment. "Don't worry, baby! Mommy will give you a real treat tonight!" I winked at her and went inside to jack off yet again. It was mid-evening, and I was getting the idea that this treat was never going to arrive. Mom had gone upstairs about 10 minutes ago, and I waited. Eventually, mom re-appeared. She had her bathrobe on, a towel over her arm, and a bottle in her hand. "Time for your treat." Mom spread the towel on the floor. "Come on, get your clothes off; I'm going to give you a massage." I took off my clothes, not really knowing what to expect. Mom made me lie face down; she stood behind me, so I couldn't see what she was doing. The next thing I know, Mom's straddled my back and is rubbing some sort of oil into my shoulders. As I enjoyed the soothing massage, it struck me that I couldn't feel any of mom's clothing against my skin, and my back felt slightly wet just where her pussy was. My prick jumped to attention; mom was naked. Oh boy, this was going to be good. Mom worked her way around my body; she was massaging my butt when I felt more oil running down my butt crack and over my balls. "Oh mom, Oh mom!" I jerked as her fingernails brushed against my balls and started to tickle me between my balls and anus. Oh man, that was good. Mom's finger slid between the cheeks of my butt. No, she wouldn't; her finger forced its way into my well-oiled anus. It hurt a bit, but wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. I felt mom kissing the cheeks of my butt as she pushed two fingers into my virgin ass. Mom's voice was deep and sexy, "Turn over, you little shit." I lay on my back, looking up at mom's tits. Did they look big from down here! She poured oil all over her tits and used them to massage my chest; I was in heaven. Mom worked her way down my body, soon my hard prick was being smothered in breast flesh, and every now and then one of mom's hard nipples would rub against the head of my cock. "Oh mom! I can't take any more! Ooooooooo!" I was getting near to cumming, and mom knew it. She started wanking my prick. "Come on, Terry, cum for mommy, cum for mommy." My prick started to throb; my balls were ready to release their load. Oh god; mom's warm mouth closed around the head of my prick. I came straight into her mouth, mom sucked as I came, she wanted every drop and she got it. As my cock started to soften, I watched mom lick it clean. "That was the best, mom! What a babe." "I'm not finished with you yet." Mom sucked my prick, making it hard in double-quick time. What a turn-on. She moved around into a sixty-nine, her juicy pussy was just inches from my face. I opened her pussy lips and looked at the little fleshy button that was her clit; her hole was moist and pink. Without really thinking, I thrust my tongue into her, I just wanted to taste her juices, I heard a muffled groan. I licked her clit, and then I sucked it into my mouth and massaged it with my tongue. Mom's sucking went up a notch. Her juices began to flow into my mouth. "You taste so good, mom, you taste real good!" Without warning, mom rolled off me and straddled my legs, her tits looked enormous, her nipples rock hard. She positioned my cock at the entrance to her pussy. "Is this what you want, Terry?" "Yes!" "Are you sure? There's no going back!" "I wanna fuck your juicy cunt, mom!"I couldn't believe what I had just said; mom's pussy gripped the head of my cock, I watched as her soft, sexy pussy slowly ate my shaft. I grabbed a tit in each hand and squeezed them hard as mom bounced up and down; I matched mom's rhythm and thrust up as she came down. We rolled over so I was now on top, with mom's legs over my shoulders, I fucked her well and hard. "Nnnnnnghgh! Fuck me, Terry, fuck your mom!" Mom was moaning like it was going out of fashion, my prick plunged in and out of her cunt, covered in her juices. "I'm gonna cum! Mommy's gonna cum, baby!" Mom's pussy gripped my prick as she came, my balls shot their load right on cue, I felt so good filling my own mom with a belly full of cum. We lay next to each other exhausted, mom leaned over and kissed me on the mouth, we kissed for about five minutes, exploring each other's mouth with our tongues. "Oh, baby! That was good." "I love you, mom." We both cleaned up and went to bed. A dream had come true; I couldn't wait for tomorrow. The next morning, mom was sitting on the couch wearing just a white blouse knotted around her waist and her bikini bottoms. She was reading one of the naturist magazines I had left out. "Hi, mom." She looked up as I walked towards her. "Terry; I think we should talk." I kissed her, pushing my tongue into her mouth, mom didn't pull away. "I don't think this is right!" she gasped as I pulled away. I sat beside her and slid my hand inside her blouse, I felt her nipple respond as I rolled it between my fingers. "Of course it's right, mom, we've never been closer; and I really enjoy giving you pleasure and making you cum. You do enjoy cumming, don't you?" "Mmmmm! Of course I do. Ooooooooo! It's just that you're my son and. Nnnnnnnngh! Fuck me! Oh, Terry, I want to feel you cum inside me!" Who was I to disobey my loving mom? Her clothes fell to the floor as I sucked greedily on her nipples. Both now naked, I told mom I wanted her doggie style, she got onto all fours and wiggled her ass at me. "Please fuck me! Please!" Without any thought of foreplay or discomfort to mom, I grabbed her hips and thrust forward. "Aaaaaaaaghnn!" I drove my prick right into her pussy as far as it would go. At that moment in time, she was just a cunt begging to be fucked, and I fucked her. Harder she panted as I pounded my prick into her. Gradually her juices made her pussy nice and slick. I smeared her asshole with her juice and pushed my thumb into her ass. "Nnnnnnnnnngh! That's it, baby, fuck me like a slut! Oooooooooo!" I pulled my prick out of her pussy and placed it on her lubricated anus. "No, Terry! Not there! Please! Nooooooo!" I pushed hard, mom resisted at first, but I managed to get the head of my cock in her ass. She tried to crawl away; I kept hold of her hips and lunged forwards. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaghggh!" My prick forced its whole length into her bowels; I fucked her ass just as hard as I fucked her pussy. As mom became used to the sensation of a prick fucking her ass, she started to enjoy the wanton feeling it gave her. "Oh, Terry, treat me like a whore! Nnnnnnnnngh!" Mom was near to cumming, so was I. "Oh, baby! Let me be your cunt, Ooooooooo! I'll do anything, just keep fucking me!" My prick bulged inside her as my hot cum hit the insides of her belly, mom couldn't hold back any longer. "Mmmmmmmgh! Nnnnnnnghgh!" We collapsed in a heap on the floor, cum dripped out of her ass onto the carpet. "Lick it clean, mom!" Mom licked my prick clean, running her tongue all around its head, sucking my balls. I was in charge now; this is where the holiday fun really begins...

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/12376.txt

Caesar

Chauffeur's Dirty Job

"Michael, could you help me?" It was Mr. Dietel, my boss. "Of course, sir." I jumped out of my car door to see my employer half-dragging his wife from the open elevator. Thea was obviously quite intoxicated and not in control of her own faculties. I lifted her free arm and placed it around my neck; the middle-aged woman was cradled between us. "Seems like my wife had a bit too much to drink." He always had a way of stating the obvious. This was not the first time he left an important party because of his wife's drinking problem. "Thea should go home" - of course she should - "but it looks like I may get the CMK contract tonight." He sighed. "If I play my cards right." I opened the rear door to the limousine. "It's no problem, Mr. Dietel. I'll drop her off then come right back." He looked grateful. Up until this moment, Thea Dietel had been inanimate. She spoke with slurred words. "I don't want to go home, Michael!" She turned her head towards her husband. "Let us go find a nice hotel and fuck our brains out like we used to?" It was my duty to ignore the private words of my employer and his wife. "Now, dear." He let her go so I could manipulate her through the door of his huge car. "Michael will make sure you get home all right." She made a rude noise as her answer, while I was not amused with the task of handling his drunken wife. "I'll be home later tonight, dear, after I get that contract I have been working on." This time Mrs. Dietel spoke to me instead of her husband. It was something she normally never did - talk to the help. "He would rather work on some contract than fuck his wife." She then spoke over my shoulder as I finally got her onto the rear seat. "Or are you fucking someone else?" There was venom in her voice. "Like that bimbo secretary of yours?" After I stood back up out of the limousine, Mr. Dietel closed the door just as his wife's first sob could be heard. He attempted an embarrassed smile then pressed his palm into mine. I felt several bills being exchanged. "I know this goes beyond your duties, Mike, so after getting her home you can take the rest of the night off." I wondered if Mrs. Dietel's last question was true. "Of course, sir, and thank you." He waved my statement away. "I should get back." He walked back towards the elevator. "I called home and the maid will handle my wife once you get her there." I nodded. After all, it was my job. Mr. Dietel quickly stepped into the open elevator and closed its doors. I was left alone in the large cement parking complex. Well, I thought, it's a job. Beats digging ditches. I got behind the driver's seat and stole a quick look behind me through the rearview mirror. "You okay, Mrs. Dietel?" She didn't respond, but I could hear her near-silent sobs. "I'll have you home within an hour." It usually took seventy-five minutes to drive to the coastal home, but it was evening and I should be able to make good time. It was a job. I began maneuvering through the busy downtown streets and the traffic, only occasionally looking back to my employer's wife. She was fine, half-laying upon the wide rear seat, her face hidden in shadow. Perhaps I would get lucky and she would pass out until the drive was over. I'm not sure how long since leaving the garage it had been before Mrs. Dietel first spoke, but it startled me after the serene silence. "You wouldn't have left your wife for a contract, would you, Michael?" I glanced through the mirror to see Thea sitting up, looking directly into my eyes. She looked very weary, her eyes were red and puffy after crying, and her clothes were wrinkled after laying upon them for so long. "I'm not married, Mrs. Dietel." I wondered if she even knew this - she only spoke to me to give directions to her next destination, not to ask about my personal life. I sensed that she waited impatiently for an answer to her question. My comment was irrelevant. "No, ma'am, I would never have chosen a job over my wife." "Do you find me attractive, Michael?" Her voice had a new quality to it that I could not interpret. The simple question was also disturbing, something I never thought to hear from Thea Dietel. What else could I say? "Yes, ma'am, I do find you attractive." She was. Late thirties, still in shape, with a pretty face - it was only her attitude that pissed me off. This evening I had noticed she looked particularly attractive, dressed in a light pink dress with white nylons and shoes, her long, wavy dark hair highlighting her attractive features. Of course, I only took a quick glance before becoming the dispassionate driver - after all I could not jeopardize this job. Using a quiet almost girlish voice, she asked, "Would you like to fuck me?" I almost hit the car in front of me, so distracted and surprised was I at the comment. I took several long breaths before responding, "Ma'am, we will be back home in a few moments. Then you can sleep off..." I was the chauffeur after all. The reason I had stopped talking was because I glanced into the mirror as I spoke. What I saw surprised me yet again. The angle of the large rearview mirror allowed me to see much of the rear compartment, up to about the waist of anyone sitting in the seat facing forwards. Mrs. Dietel was sitting facing me, her eyes looking fiercely into mine. I could see a white silk-covered knee which led down to her thigh- revealing garters. One of the lady's hands was inside the front of her dress, one button undone, allowing access so she could manipulate her own breast. The other hand crossed the front of her body and was obviously placed between her legs, which I could not see. "Would you like to fuck me?" Again the question, but this time I could see the needful desire in her eyes, and understood the sound in her voice. "I'll do anything you want! I want you to fuck me!" She sighed, and I saw that her tongue had quickly licked her red lips to moisten them. "Use me, Michael, fuck me any way you want; I need a man." I'm sure she did. I wasn't sure what to do, but was certain her actions were induced by the large amounts of alcohol she consumed. So if in doubt, do your job. I continued to drive while watching the rear compartment very closely. Mrs. Dietel continued to manipulate her bosom and the arm across from her moved slightly, giving indication of a busy hand between her legs. Yet her eyes only came off mine to sigh her enjoyment, but would promptly return to the mirror. Thank goodness - I finally left the busy city and was on a quiet highway. "I bet you have a big rock-hard cock?" She smiled for the first time. "One that likes a hungry wet pussy... like mine." I spent another few moments watching her enjoyable show before she altered her presentation. I watched as she pressed her knees together and then lifted them to her chest, her hands going to her hips. She wiggled then moved her arms down before coming back up with her white thin panties. In seconds she threw the skimpy garment up to the front; it landed right upon my right thigh. I stole another look back at her, seeing that she waited for my response, then I lifted her damp panties to my face and inhaled. Mrs. Dietel giggled like a teenager. "I knew you were a real man! A real fucking true-to-God answer to my prayers." She again lifted her legs up upon the seat, both her knees now visible, allowing me to see the band of her stockings and the clips of her garters. I breathed in the thick musk of Mr. Dietel's wife as I watched her slowly unbutton the multitude of dainty buttons on the front of her dress. "I'm going to sit here and fuck myself until you stop this car and rape me!" She giggled again just as her bra-covered breasts were revealed. I reached up to the mirror and adjusted it, moving it down slightly. My view was unobstructed into the rear seat, and I could now see Mrs. Dietel's glistening spread cunt. I could not believe this was happening, nor was I sure how far to take this episode. She noticed my adjustment of the mirror and smiled her enjoyment. That was when she began the real show. A bra landed upon my lap, removed quickly and thrown while I was distracted with her Venus mound. She scooted her bottom forward on the seat, pressing her already-spread sex towards me. I could see every detail of her flowered vagina that I imagined the taste of her nectar. The limousine filled with the sharp smell of her. Those next few moments would rush by very quickly. Mrs. Dietel began to gently manipulate the wet lips of her sex, moving them back and forwards with one hand.The other hand pinched a nipple before firmly grasping a breast in a full hand. She was making pleasure noises, mainly for my enjoyment, I was sure. "I need your big fucking cock, Michael." The right hand worked upon her sex moved, and the tips of her fingers rotated over the sensitive spot of her clitoris. Her bottom and hips wiggled delightfully while the hand over the breast became rough as it moved from one revealed breast to the other. The middle-aged woman was still very attractive, and at that moment, damn sexy. I wanted to turn off the road, jump in the back, and fuck her wildly. I wanted to lick up the abundant juices that ran from her vagina down to her asshole, bottom cheeks, and even her inner thighs. She was right about one thing - I most certainly wanted to fuck her with my big cock. I decided, at that moment, to watch the rest of the show, then move in to give the madam her wish. "Hummm!" She moaned out, the urgency in her voice apparent. A hand abandoned her C-cup breasts, then unceremoniously attacked her own vagina, inserting her two middle fingers deep inside her private gully. The other hand was rapidly moving almost in time with her wiggling and shivering body. I knew it would not be long now. "Cock...fuck me, you bastard...fat fucking cock fucking me...yes!" "Yes!" Her bottom lifted off the seat and pressed outwards towards me, as I saw perfectly into her crotch and busy hands. Three fingers were shoved up inside herself, and the other was now at her mouth, licking off the glistening juices her sex had left upon it. She came fiercely as the now-clean hand returned to her clitoris. Mrs. Thea Dietel orgasmed and spasmed just as I slowed down so I would not have to take my eyes off the mirror as much. The explosive orgasm seemed to last for several long seconds until she fell back down onto the seat. Her alcohol-induced sluggishness returned, and she suddenly looked exhausted as she collapsed into the huge rear seat. Her delightful moaning lasted for another few moments as she enjoyed the after-effects of her inner release. "Mrs. Dietel?" I slowed the limousine and turned off onto a remote dirt road, only moments from the Dietel home. She hadn't even answered me, but put her arm over her eyes. "Thea?" It was the first time I have ever called her by her first name, and probably would be the last. I found an abandoned old dirt road that was overgrown with weeds and hadn't a house or building within a few miles. It was totally dark. I put the limousine in park, got out of the car, opened the rear door, and climbed in. Laying as she had last moved, Mrs. Dietel was still exposed, her dress about her waist. She was glowing in the dim light of the driver's compartment, her skin still sweaty from her earlier exertions, and her chest rose and fell with her deep even breathing. I reached out and tentatively poked her foot. She didn't move. Just touching her took much of my initial strength, since I knew that the game I was playing could effectively get me canned from my well-paying cushy job. Yet this opportunity could not be overlooked - Mrs. Dietel was an attractive woman, a woman who needed the touch of a man, and to top it off, was a bitch up until this night. I wanted to possess her, to fuck her, and to have her beg for me. Possibly in no other situation could I have a woman like Thea in my bed. I again reached out and moved her foot, but didn't take my hand away from her silk-clad toes. I wanted her to wake up and again beg for my cock, which I would give to her only when I wanted to. She didn't move. "Thea?" My hand shook her more roughly this time, and she didn't even moan. The woman was again passed out. "Damn!" I sat back and contemplated my next move. My employer's wife was almost naked in the back of his limousine, and my dick was hard. Obviously, my earlier plans had disintegrated. Again the rich got what they desired, and the working stiffs were left holding the bag again. "Damn bitch!" At some point in those few seconds, I had decided my course of action and reached out to cup one of her sweaty breasts in my palm. The nipple was still hard, poked into my hand, and heightened my sexual hunger. This woman had promised, and begged, for my cock - was it wrong to give it to her? Even in this state? I didn't care any longer. I was not dainty, nor was I gentle with my next few movements. I reached out with both hands and pulled her from the seat down onto the carpeted floor. She landed upon her naked buttocks and shoulders. My desperation was evident as I pried apart her thighs and knelt between them, the zipper loud in the silent compartment. Quickly and expertly, I aimed my stiff manhood towards her still-flowered open vagina and pressed forwards. The hot wetness engulfed me as I sank down to the root, our kinky hairs mingling together. This time it was my turn to sigh. To my surprise, and delight, Mrs. Dietel began to rotate her hips. As the first of my thrusts drove home, she groaned loudly, and I enjoyed watching the uninhibited jiggling of her breasts. My hunger showed in my animal thrusting as I drove again and again into her wet folds, placing her stocking-clad legs upon my shoulders, pressing her knees all the way to her chest. Slowly, Thea began to drift out of her stupor and began to react to my enjoyment. Firstly, her midriff rose up to meet my down thrust with the same passion and needful desire. Next, one of her hands grasped her left naked bosom and enjoyed the softness, as well as the hard peak, beneath her palm. The other hand grasped her own leg, right behind the knee, helping me keep her legs spread wide and far back. "God, I'm cumming!" The sweat was dripping down my spine as I noticed her own perspiration beading upon her smooth skin. The sight of her passion-filled face brought me closer to my own orgasm, but it was the tightening of her inner sex muscles that pushed me over the brink. I could almost feel my seed force itself up from my balls, through the long tunnel, and finally to the end of my cock. Just as the first blast of my cum shot out of me, Thea cried out, and her whole body seemed to quiver uncontrollably as her own orgasm began. I lost the sequence of events after that; surely my partner had another intense orgasm more powerful than the previous, but my own made that memory clouded. Some time later, I lay panting above Mrs. Dietel, my considerably smaller member still inside her slimy wetness. The first movement I made initially was to bend forward and kiss her still-hard nipple, the next was to let go of her legs that had been resting upon my back. Throatily she spoke, "That was delightful, Howard." She hummed slightly afterwards, content with her body's feelings. Yet I wanted to know who Howard was - my employer's name was Christopher. Perhaps I was wrong and Mrs. Dietel hadn't been as lonely as I first imagined. Thankful for her drunken stupor, I disengaged myself from her and then proceeded to continue with my job. I drove Mrs. Thea Dietel home.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/18201.txt

Walter Ego

Not Gay

"I'm not gay," George said, taking a sip of his beer. Jason smiled. "That's OK. I am." This wasn't exactly news. Jason had made no secret of his orientation around the office. But he was a charming guy, and he and George had hit it off well, commiserating when the Jets lost again, discussing the finer points of wine and the blues. So when Jason had asked George out for a drink, he went along. He hadn't expected it to be a bar filled with men. George tried not to stare as the two in leather gave each other a long passionate kiss. "Not that there's anything wrong with that. I'm just not comfortable here." "Oh, don't worry about it. No one's going to pick you up." "I mean, I thought you knew this." "It's all right." Jason put a hand gently on his. "Don't worry about anyone else. Besides," he said with a playful glint in his eye, "you can't tell me you NEVER thought about doing it with a man." "No." "Liar." George felt sheepish. "Well, maybe once or twice I've wondered what it would be like if a man sucked me off. But I'm not interested in doing it." "How will you know you don't like it if you don't try?" "That's stupid reasoning." George finished off his drink. "There are plenty of things I know I don't like without trying." Jason nodded. "OK. It's not like I need to recruit anyone. I just like your company -- as a friend. That's all." He got up. "Let me get you another drink. On me." George waited nervously for Jason to return. No one else seemed interested in him, but he felt almost as though he were on display. Jason returned with two glasses just when George was beginning to wonder. "Try this." George was glad to take the beer. He drank it down quickly, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible. Jason was in no hurry. He sipped slowly, talking about work, the weather, all sorts of innocuous subjects. George helped up his end of the conversation, trying to pretend they were in a normal place. Gradually, he began to relax. His head felt curiously lightheaded, and his hands clumsy. There was a strange buzzing in his ears that made it hard for him to think. "Are you all right?" Jason asked. "Feel funny," George mumbled. His voice sounded so far away. "You look pretty good. Quite happy. Don't you feel happy, George?" Happy? He wasn't sure. But it was getting very hard to think with that buzzing... "You feel happy and good, George. Trust me. You know I'm right. You know I'm always right." George tried to think, but his mind felt fuzzy. Must be the drink, he thought. Jason was right, he was feeling happy and good. "You don't mind being here at all," Jason said. "I don't?" George mumbled. Jason was right. Jason was always right. "No. Don't mind at all." "Good," Jason said. "Very good." George was strangely pleased. "I drugged your drink, you know. But you don't mind that. Not at all." "Drugged?" There was something mildly disturbing about that, but Jason was, as usual, right. "No," he mumbled. Jason patted George's hand. "That's very good George. Now I want you to come with me." "Sure," said George. Whatever Jason wanted. They got up and left the bar. George felt slightly dazed, the buzzing still making it impossible to think. But he didn't mind. He could listen to Jason. Jason was his friend. They got into Jason's car. Jason turned to him. "Now, George, I'm going to kiss you. You'll like it. More than any other kiss you've ever had." Kiss a man? There was something... But the thought got lost in the pleasant buzz. "OK." Jason kissed him. George was delighted at how wonderful it felt. Their two tongues touched, and he found his cock hardening. Jason broke the kiss, disappointing George. "Very good, George. Now, from now on, you will obey my orders. You will do whatever I ask and won't want to do otherwise. Is that clear?" Whatever he asked? Jason was gay. That might mean... what might it mean? Too hard to think. Too hard to worry. Do what Jason says. "Yes," George murmured. "Call me 'sir' George. It's a mark of respect. Especially to someone you want to obey." It seemed such a reasonable request. "Yes, sir." "Will you obey me?" "Yes, sir." "Good boy." Jason started up the car. "Now, boy, go to sleep. Go to sleep and dream. Dream you are serving me. Dream that I turn you on. Dream that you find following my commands completely natural and right. Dream that you will do anything I ask, without question. Do you understand?" George nodded. "Have to dream..." he mumbled. "You will awake when I tell you to." "Yes, sir," said George as his eyelids fell shut. "Wake up, boy," someone said. George's eyes flipped open. He yawned and stretched a bit, feeling very refreshed. He looked over to see Jason and smiled. "Hello, sir." He shook his head. "I've been having a very strange dream," he added. "Tell me about it, boy." "You were my master. I did whatever you asked of me, sir." Jason shook his head. "That was no dream," he said. "It wasn't?" "That was your memory. You remember now, don't you?" "I remember?" It was hard to think. George felt so fuzzy. "I remember, sir." "What do you remember?" George was confused. "What else?" Jason leaned near him. "Don't you remember me fucking you?" "I..." Did he remember? "My hard cock inside you? You must remember that, boy. It was the most intense erotic feeling you've ever had. You loved the feeling intensely. Intensely. Remember?" George tried to think, to recall. It sounded strange to him, but the buzzing made it difficult for him to figure out why. But he trusted Jason. "I remember," George whispered. Jason patted George gently on the head. "Good boy," he said. "Good boy." George beamed. The words made him feel special and loved. "Thank you, sir," he whispered. "I want to please you in any way I can, sir." "You will, my boy. You will. Now, the drug will be wearing off in a few hours, but it won't matter. Your mind will be permanently altered. But it's all for the best, isn't it, boy?" George nodded. "I love you, sir," he whispered. And he knew he always would. They got out of the car. Just in front of Jason's doorway, he paused. "Tell me, boy. Are you gay?" George shook his head. "No, sir. I'm not." "What are you?" George smiled, looking forward to his new life. "I am your slave, sir," he answered.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/8896.txt

L.Corvidae

Nothing Like The Sun

"I thought you didn't like pain." "I want to give you pleasure, Mistress!" "How very noble of you." "Please!" I practically screamed, "I NEED to give you pleasure!" "All right, Michael," She said very softly. "Thank you." She went over to Her racks of toys, leaving me to twist and tremble in unspeakable agony. When She returned, She had a girlish look of mirth on Her face and something behind Her back. She pressed close to me, extremely close. "I've noticed that your sweet little plums have a distressing tendency to run away from Me when I want to play with them, Michael," She said, reaching under Her "invention" and tenderly grasping my balls. She wasn't hurting me - there - but I made a keening sound, a pitiful wailing, in dreadful anticipation. "You see?" She said, tightening Her grasp and pulling them gently downward. My words would have sounded a bit like this: "Owowowowowowowowow!" I was virtually howling. "And you don't hang very low to begin with, My sweet, so I'm going to have to start training you." She held up a leather device that was as meaningless to me, yet as sinister, as the Teeth Of Kali. There were laces up the front, like the sides of Her pants, and a chain dangling underneath. "This is called a parachute spreader," She explained, awkwardly tugging it over my scrotum. "You see?" She asked, pulling at it roughly. "If they dropped lower, it wouldn't be this difficult!" She did up the laces. The stretching sensation in my groin was unbelievable. "And what we do," She said, holding up a small metal cylinder with a hook on the top, "is this." She hooked it to the chain. My balls weren't just being pushed away from my body, now they were being dragged away by a full pound of weight. "A pound doesn't seem like very much, does it, Michael?" I was gibbering mindlessly. She snapped Her fingers in front of my face. "MICHAEL!" "I don't know, Mistress," I groaned. "It seems like so much to me!" "Well, I think you can take another pound," She said sternly. "And if I'm wrong, you can always use your safeword and we'll clean up the mess later." Clack. Another pound. They clattered like castanets from the violent shaking that wracked my body. All the jostling awakened new waves of torment inside the Teeth Of Kali. She surveyed me like an artist taking in the full effect of their work. "Clamps, definitely." I hardly even felt them as She clipped a pair of baby alligators to my nipples. The sensations just had too much to compete with. "Well, Michael," She said at length, "you do remember what I told you yesterday, don't you?" I sobbed in reply.She smacked the "naughty" side against my ass and held it there, grinding the studs against my skin. "Don't be stupid! Of course you don't. I haven't told you yet. Would you like me to tell you?" "Oh, please, Mistress," I cried. Crack! The "nice" side this time. "Such a sweet slave." Like before, she kept the paddle pressed against me, rubbing it against my cheeks. This time, however, the sensation of the leather against my tenderized ass was intensely arousing. Given where my cock was at the time, this proved a decidedly mixed blessing. She began to circle me as she talked. Whenever she wished to emphasize something, the paddle would come crashing down on my ass like a corporal exclamation point. "This racquet is directly responsible for my first time, michael. Not my first time having sex!" Crack! "My first time having sex was hardly an event I'd wish to commemorate!" Crack! "Actually, I was quite old when I lost my virginity. Not as old as you are, of course! But old by comparison with my..." Her voice seemed to trip over itself. "My peers!" She hit me with the studded side on that one. "I never was much interested in dating, but on some level there is an almost inherent D&S aspect to the relationships between teenage boys and girls. Or at least, there used to be." She sighed. "I couldn't even say the experience was... interesting. It didn't last long, and frankly, wasn't even as painful as I'd heard it described." In spite of everything, I had to fight to suppress a smile. Only she would consider something like pain to be an added bonus. "Once I got to college, that changed. Boys now wanted to be men and take all the power for themselves. Inexplicably, the women actually ceded it to them! Now I understand that it's like that even in high schools, which is a terrible shame. Girls have so much power over boys when they're young, it's inconceivable to me why they give it up for something stupid and nebulous like 'security'! I've provided for myself far better than most the girls I knew who gave up control of their lives to some... man!" She'd landed three more blows during the course of her statement. My ass was beginning to glow. "The point is that once I arrived at college, my interest in 'dating' which had always been tenuous at best, evaporated entirely. I had friends, some of whom were eminently fuckable; and I did attempt to try having sex again, but it was only marginally more satisfactory than the initial time. I was not unaware of what it was that I sought, but I didn't really understand all that much about it, being a 'good' little Catholic schoolgirl from the Midwest." "Then, in the second half of my freshman year, I took a psych course and for the first time heard the word 'Sadist,'" she whacked me with the "naughty" side, hard, "used in a sexual context. I don't know, michael. Can you remember the first time that all the diffuse, vague longings and half-understood desires finally coalesced into something coherent, something you could put a word to?" Actually, I couldn't. It had never quite been like that. It was more an organic evolution for me rather than a single revelatory incident. I said so, and she seemed saddened by it. "Well, for me, michael, it was like waking up. Like my libido just stopped dreaming one day and woke right up! "Unfortunately, I was still woefully ignorant about a lot of the 'Facts of Life,' if you will, when it came to dominance and submission. I actually thought that I would be in the position most subs face; having to deal with incredibly stiff competition just to get a decent partner. I couldn't imagine that subs outnumbered Dommes the way they do. It feels contrary to human nature almost, that people would rather be beaten than do the beating." She punctuated this with a series of lightning swift strokes across the inflamed skin of my ass and the backs of my thighs. My chin was to my chest at this point and rivulets of sweat cascaded down my body. I was listening to every word she said, but it was in a kind of fugue state. "I had a friend. A very dear male friend. He was very much like you, michael, sensitive and unassuming, even submissive in a way. But he went about expressing that submissiveness in the wrong way: he would constantly date shrewish, mean women who treated him like shit. He would follow them like puppies and they'd just abuse him. He confused mean with strong, do you understand?" She slapped me back to attention. "DO YOU UNDERSTAND, MICHAEL?" "Yes, Mistress," I rasped, nodding feebly. "It would have taken no effort on my part to make him my lover. Does that strike you as arrogant, michael?" She was poised to strike me herself. I thought of the way the men at the gym had clustered around her. "No, Mistress! Men throw themselves at you, Mistress!" She smacked me with the smooth side. "Sweet boy." I could hear her kiss flesh, and she gently pressed her hand to my stinging skin. "I tested him a bit, tried to gauge his reactions to the idea of bondage and pain and the like. Sadly, he was also from a 'good' Midwestern upbringing and he found the ideas, well, unpleasant at best. It was easier for him to have his ego ground down by continuous mistreatment, than to suffer a whipping from loving hands. As I said, I was still quite inexperienced myself, and I thought I understood his motivations at the time." "Two or three times a week, we'd get together and play racquetball. I became very good at it and I enjoyed both the exercise and the competition. I finally fixed on an idea that would give me the opportunity to stretch out my wings as a Domme. I brought him to my room one Friday night and told him all about me. All about what I desired. He was terribly shocked and deeply troubled by it all, I guess proving that my ability to feel him out had been more subtle than even I had given myself credit for. I offered him a deal. "We would play a match in the morning. If I lost, I would become his lover for the rest of the semester. That was still a good two months, mind you, and I intended to go the whole way, do the whole doting girlfriend bit. If he lost, he was mine for the next twenty-four hours." She paused, looked into my eyes. "That game was the biggest sexual rush of my entire life. And he played his ass off!" She stopped, smiled at me, twirled her racquet around on her palm, smiled again with her entire face. She went back to the pegboard and hung the racquet up. She strode towards me and unlocked the cuffs. Somehow, I managed to stay on my feet, teetering. She removed the various torture devices. The Teeth of Kali came off with a struggle, and my prick was pockmarked with ugly purple dimples. I swooned. Finally, she undid the ankle cuffs. I hadn't been instructed to count, but I took at least twenty lashes in total. "Storytime is over, michael, now I wish for my massage." She gently took my aching penis in her hand and led me to her dungeon den. The bed was out, and on it lay what looked to be a pair of thin, rubbery underwear. I was about to ask permission to go to the mud room and get my surprise for Mistress, when she began to speak. "Go to the bed. Pick it up." I did. It was heavier than I'd thought. I looked inside and saw a metal tube. It wasn't underwear. "I'm afraid, my pet, that, small as you are, my panties still didn't hold you in enough to keep from spoiling what was otherwise an exceptional back rub. That is a chastity belt. Quite a charming little toy, don't you think?" "It looks... serious, Mistress." "That's understandable, michael. It is an... educational toy after all," she purred. "That's neoprene over strips of stainless steel. It's designed for long-term usage." My stomach flipped. Long-term. "Put it on, michael." In many ways, it was set up like the CBT belt I had worn on Saturday, only my penis went through the tube instead of a ring, and was forced to point straight down. Once the final straps were pulled around the cheeks of my ass, I would have to piss sitting down, and masturbation was out of the realm of possibility. The cruelest irony of all was that the waist of the belt came right up into the line sunk into my waist by the panties and the rubber chafed the raw skin there. "You do remember all those measurements I made you make a month ago, don't you? What did you think they were for?" "I guess I didn't know," I admitted. "I was supposed to have it yesterday," she explained, sounding a little irritated, "but the man who makes them is a bit of a perfectionist; and he refused to hand it over until I could confirm you'd gotten it right, so I had to go and break out the tape measure." My jaw dropped. I gaped at her in utter confusion. "By the way," she giggled, "you make the cutest sound when someone touches you while you're sleeping." She walked towards me, swaggering her hips. "I believe you know this part already," she said, thrusting her pelvis towards me. I got to my knees and took the end of one of the laces in my mouth.The smell of the leather was mixed with the slightest touch of Her perfume. I undid the bow. Removing Mistress' pants with my mouth proved to be a painstaking task that left me charged with phenomenal heat. Again, that feeling of sensuality was only partly welcome as my cock endured new torment within its unforgiving metal tube. When I was done, She climbed into the bed and lay face down, awaiting me. "Mistress?" She turned Her head towards me, taken aback. "What is it, michael?" "May I... I... I have brought something that may help me in this endeavor. May I please go and retrieve it? Mistress?" Her eyes narrowed to suspicious slits. "If you must." "Thank you, Mistress!" I ran out to the mud room. The moment Her eyes fell upon the Walkman, you could almost see the plumes of frost upon Her breath. I was suddenly very comforted by the knowledge that my privates were safely behind a strip of steel. "I'm not stimulation enough for you, michael?" She growled menacingly. I'd been rehearsing my speech since the moment the idea occurred to me that morning in the shower. It was still very hard to get the words out right. "You told me before that a good slave trusts his Mistress, Mistress. Now I ask you to trust me." She turned away from me angrily. "If you NEED it, michael," was all She'd said. I climbed into bed with Her. I knew I'd be naked - or a reasonable equivalent thereof - so I'd affixed the Walkman to a nylon strap back at home and now had it slung across my chest. I twisted it around so it was up against the small of my back and wouldn't drop down and bother Mistress. It was clear She was furious. Her body no longer just looked like marble, it felt like it, too. I pushed PLAY and began to slowly, easily work Her rock-hard neck muscles. "In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit," the voice on the tape said. "In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit," I echoed aloud. Her whole body shook as She suddenly realized what was happening, and then, to my great relief, the tension slackened. And thus did I "read" to Mistress, and give Her a massage; all at the same time.

Seven: Workouts

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/9436.txt

The Midnight Writer

New Story - 7th Heaven: Lucy's Voyages

"Lucy, you've got to be careful with guys now. Beautiful girls like you can be taken advantage of very easily." "You think I'm beautiful?" "Well, yeah." "Really?" "Yes, Luc, geez." Lucy ran over to Matt and kissed him on his cheek. While doing this, the nightgown she was wearing opened up at the top and had flashed Matt her breasts when she bent down. When Matt saw this, his penis got instantly hard. "What the hell am I thinking? She's my sister!" he thought. But he could see directly down her nightgown, from her breasts to her feet, and he realized that she wasn't wearing any panties at all. He blushed at the sight of his younger sister naked, and it was turning him on. "So, Luc, what did Jimmy and you do at the movies?" Lucy sat down on the bed across from Matt. "Well, everything was going normally. We got our popcorn and sat down near the back. The movie started a few minutes later. We got about 15 minutes into the movie when he put his arm around me, which I knew was normal for dates at the movies." Lucy lied. "Yeah, what else happened?" "Then his arm started to move farther down to my waist, and he started to move it up my side, just before he got his hand near my chest. I lightly elbowed him in his side and told him to stop. He said, 'Come on, I'll let you touch me if you let me touch your...'" "Your what, Luc?" Lucy blushed, "Well, my breast, but he didn't say it that way." "He said your tit, didn't he?" She swallowed. She looked down and noticed that she could see that Matt was hard through his jeans. "This is turning him on," she thought to herself. She nodded, still looking at the floor. "What did you tell him?" Matt got up and sat down next to her, only a few inches separating them. "I told him no, but he grabbed my other hand and placed it on his penis. He was excited. Then he grabbed my breast and tried to kiss me. I pushed him away and ran out of the theater. He came out and told me he called his father, telling him that you weren't feeling well. And that if I told anyone, he would make my life a living hell by spreading rumors about me." Matt moved closer to Lucy and gave her a side hug. Lucy was still looking down, and she noticed that Matt was still hard. She looked up at him and gave him a small kiss on his lips. They stared at each other for a few seconds, then Lucy moved closer and kissed Matt fully on the lips. The kiss was long and hard, and Matt was responding back, but he broke the kiss. "Luc, what the hell are you doing? I'm your brother." "I know, you just looked like you needed to be kissed long and hard." Matt knew that he had a major hard-on, and Lucy's kiss made him even harder, but this was his sister, not a girl from school. But he hadn't got to fool around since Heather, the deaf/mute he dated until she left. He looked back at Lucy and made up his mind. He leaned back over to Lucy and kissed her long and hard. She responded and quickly put her arms around her brother. Matt put his arms around her, but soon was moving his hands down to her ass. He lightly grabbed Lucy's ass, and she moaned. Lucy guided him to lay down on the bed, with her on top. She broke their kiss and straddled him. Lucy then pulled her nightgown over her head and tossed it to the floor. Matt stared wide-eyed at his 13-year-old sister naked and on top of him. He grabbed her small, firm breasts and kneaded them. He sat back up and started to lick and kiss her lovely, perky breasts. He hadn't seen such a good pair of breasts in a long while. Lucy moaned and was rubbing her hands through Matt's hair. Finally, after a few minutes, she laid Matt back down and started to remove his belt. She slowly removed it and started to unbuckle his pants when Matt stopped her. "Lucy, we can't do that. We're related. What would happen if you got pregnant?" "Don't worry, I already had my period this month. We are perfectly safe. Besides, I want you inside me." She restarted on unbuckling Matt's pants and got them down to his ankles. "I have dreamed of this since I saw you coming out of the shower, when you thought no one was home." She grabbed his underwear and gave them a good yank. Matt's penis stood straight up like a flagpole. He was bigger than Lucy originally thought. Matt was a good 8 to 9 inches long. Lucy gasped when she saw her brother's long phallus. "Oh, Matt, you're so big." She moved back up to his penis and gave it a light kiss on the head. Matt moaned. She kissed it again, longer this time, and Matt moaned longer. She started to lick the shaft and play with his balls. When she put his 8-inch penis in her mouth, she was afraid she wouldn't be able to get the whole thing in her mouth. Matt couldn't believe that his sister was blowing him, and she was quite good. He wondered where she had learned it. After what seemed like a lifetime, Lucy could feel Matt's balls churning, and finally, long stream after stream of semen came out of Matt. Lucy swallowed every last drop. She removed her mouth from Matt's limp penis and said, "So, are you ready for the main course?" "Luc, I love you and everything, and you give great head. But I still don't think we should fuck each other. What if Mom and Dad came home?" "They won't. You know they stay out all night on 'date night'." "OK, what about Mary?" "She won't. She isn't going to be home until way after midnight." "What about Simon and Ruthie?" "Like I said before, they're asleep." "Which is probably true? I'm sure that they fucked each other until they fell asleep," Lucy thought to herself. "So, we are perfectly safe," Lucy said. "You sure?" "Yes, now fuck me, brother. I want to feel your long, hot penis in my virgin pussy." Matt was surprised that Lucy was talking this way, but thanks to that, he was hard instantly. Lucy sat back up and straddled herself over Matt's hard penis and slowly lowered herself onto it. When he entered her, Matt couldn't believe how tight Lucy was. She started moving up and down on him and groaning with each downward thrust. Matt placed his hands on her narrow hips and helped her along. Soon, she was riding him like a bucking horse. Finally, Matt and Lucy came together. Both had come long and hard. Lucy could feel stream after hot stream of Matt's cum hit her not-so-virgin womb and soak in. She pulled out and laid beside him. They held each other and fell asleep in each other's arms. They were both unaware that they were being watched the entire time by... To Be Continued

(5/?)

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/14537.txt

Aaron

{LeAnna} God's Girl

"Holy shit. Look at that girl." Gabe swore. "I still jizz my pants every time I see her!" I glanced up at him, a smile helplessly creeping across my face, but said nothing. I looked down at my food, examining a french fry for a moment before dipping it in ketchup and popping it into my mouth. Nick also glanced up to where Gabe was staring and whistled admiringly. He poked his elbow into my ribs, and I looked up at him a questioning glance. He grinned lewdly at me, and gestured toward her. I turned in my seat to look, then smiled at the sight. She was a living angel. She had long blonde hair that fell in a graceful cascade to her delicate waist. Her features seemed as if they'd been carefully picked out by God -- pert nose, lips that weren't too small yet large enough to envelop you into their warmth -- and large, guarded eyes. Her eyes were a light shade of blue -- having a veneer of happiness, but when you looked deep into her eyes, you could see her pale, grey sorrow. Her dress was maddeningly casual -- faded blue jeans with a rip here and there, worn with a white undershirt. The clothes she wore gave the barest, most fleeting hint of her figure. She always wore a cross on her body, in one form or another. Bracelets, chokers, anklets. She'd joked to me that she'd get a tattoo of the cross that Christ had been nailed onto. "Tell me..." Nick leered at me. "Just *tell* me you wouldn't like to do Andrea." He took a gulp of his Coke. "If I got to share a room with her, I would die of happiness." I cracked a secretive smile and looked up at him. "I imagine that I'd see her bare-assed naked often." "Shit, yeah. I'd stare at her titties so hard that I'd give myself a brain aneurysm." I laughed raucously and slapped him on the back. "But oh, what a way to go, eh?" "Sure as hell would be." He downed the rest of the Coke noisily. Another friend came to sit at our table, his tray filled to the brim with greasy cafeteria food. "Who you looking at?" "Ah, only an angel, Wally. Only an angel," Nick sighed wistfully. Wally looked back over his shoulder in curiosity, and then he laughed. "Forget it. She belongs to God!" He dove into his food, noisily chomping and gulping. Well, she certainly belonged to someone. I can still remember the first time we talked. We'd grown up in the same town, gone to the same schools. She'd always intimidated me -- she carried a strange, distant aura that somehow held me at bay. Until one night, just after graduation. We were at the same coffeeshop, listening to a local blues band play some tunes. I came late. The only seat left was a vacancy near Andrea -- though she was beautiful, like I said, she held a distant air. It wasn't on purpose that she gave people this impression, but as a result, she was a lonely angel. Well, I'd had a few too many bowls to smoke, and I was dizzy and lightheaded, so she didn't intimidate me that night. I marched through the sweaty throng of bodies to clumsily rest my baked ass next to her. She sat on the end of the sofa, laid back, almost relaxed, her brow furrowed and her teeth sunk into her luscious lower lip, nibbling for a moment before parting to let in the end of a cigar. I took a seat next to her, relieved from the spinning of the room. "Didn't know you smoked." My sentence shook her out of her private world, her private thoughts. "I don't." I dug into my pockets. "I do. Do you mind?" She laughed and looked at me for the first time since I'd sat down next to her. I was drawn into her eyes, her eyes that seemed to swirl around with beautiful blue depths. Maybe that was just the marijuana, but I've always been captivated by her eyes. I pulled out a pack of reds, and stuck the end into my mouth, clumsily looking for a lighter. She then did something I never expected her to do. She reached over, took my cigarette from my mouth, her fingers brushing against my lips, and put it in the right way, filter side in. "Have a light?" My hands were cold. She shook her head, and leaned forward, pressing the end of her cigar against my cigarette. I could barely inhale. "Seen you around a bit," I muttered. "Yup. I think you were in my Sunday school classes, weren't you?" "Yeah. I dropped out of church because I didn't like Mrs. Norton." "Nobody really did, did they?" Laugh. I snapped out of my trance, taking a deep hit off of my cigarette, letting the smoke clear my senses. "So why are you sitting here in this coffeeshop?" Her face turned dark, and I immediately regretted saying it -- regretted making that holy smile disappear. "Oh, just stuff." ... ... "Man, I'd love to stuff my ..." Nick's voice was loud and obnoxious in my ear, jerking me back to reality. I punched him in the shoulder, hissing for him to be quiet. Didn't want her to hear... Anyhow, that night, we formed a friendship. I think I might have been the first real friend Andrea had. She found deep solace in her religion, for a reason that I would find out later. We were both enrolled in our city's college -- it was a college town, and just about everybody who came out of our high school went to that university. As luck would turn out, we were at the same dorm (live at home? With my parents? Nah!), and so we spent many evenings studying together. When we were finished, or bored of, studying, we would sit up late, drinking coffee and philosophizing. One night, I was gazing at my grades in dismay. "I can't afford to fail this class!" She glanced up. "What?" "History of Computers. It runs close to what, $5,000 per course here?" "About that." I sighed and shook my head. "Look at you -- you're so hardworking that you'll breeze right through college. Your parents sure won't have to pay for any classes twice." She was silent for a moment, her eyebrows furrowed. "My parents disowned me." "What? When?" "A while back." I shook my head in amazement. "Why did they disown you? And how are you paying for college?" "Scholarships." "All of it?" "Yup. Do you have any extra notebooks? I ran out..." That was the end of the discussion. She was incredibly smart, I'll tell you. My burning desire for her never abated, but it was accompanied with a deep respect for her intellect. Her mind was quick and inquisitive. While deeply religious, she never dismissed the scientific -- she even took a class in anthropology, a move that would have made her fundamentalist parents nearly keel over, had they not already disowned her. It went to show that she was openminded. And she caught on to things so quickly that it was amazing. If she tried just an inkling, she could put my computer skills to shame. As it were, she could do a slight of programming, and that slight was self-learned and amazingly bug-free. She'd taken three years of math in eighth grade and was in calculus in her freshman year of high school. And she could write with amazing fluidity. She had published short stories and poetry, and was even a bit well-known in literary circles. Which is why I never understood the sad aura floating about her constantly -- a muted light in her eyes, a certain quivering corner of her lip. One day, out of nowhere, I blurted out: "Why did your parents disown you? You seem so... perfect." She looked back at me, surprised, the aura growing deeper and darker. Instead of brushing off the question, like she had the previous times that I'd asked, she glanced at the floor. "I disappointed them." It took me months to discover that one reason, a major reason, was the lone source of her isolation, of her sadness. The source of the sad blue eyes that could reveal her soul if she gave you half a chance to look. I never knew that reason until much later.why she was intensely depressed, I found her a great friend, a source of comfort and solace. And she found a best friend in me. Halfway through the year, we switched roommates so that we could room together, much to the fascination of my other friends. Her roommate was a boisterous drunk of a lass, always finding one reason or another to dump poor Andrea out into the cold -- that "one reason or another" often being a guy. She was often sleeping on my floor, refusing my offers of my bed, and after a semester, her back was firmly and painfully straight from all the evenings that she'd snoozed in discomfort. She was beautiful in the mornings. She was beautiful in the evenings. She was beautiful the night that she opened her eyes suddenly to catch me gazing at her sleeping form. She was beautiful when she slowly inched toward my face, tentatively, apprehensively. And she was positively angelic when her lips hovered a mere inch from mine. And I saw heaven when her soft lips brushed me. Moist and tender and achingly sweet. That's about how far we got that night. She was a good little girl. Nothing happened for a few days. We lived in a tense world, stumbling over each other and 'accidentally' bumping into each other. But ... that all changed. I was lying on my bed, reading a magazine, headphones on my ears. Andrea was bustling around, picking up her clothes, straightening out the fridge -- whatever odds and ends she could find to do. I closed my eyes, still holding the magazine above me, and started to doze. All of a sudden, there was a loud bang as Andrea tripped over a tall stack of books, and she fell the way that a raindrop falls from Heaven, her body crashing onto me. Her breast snugly nestled in my hand. Time froze. Her nipple hardened. We stared at each other, wide-eyed. I gulped. She blushed. I squeezed my palm around her breast. She gasped. Her breath was hot on my cheek. Her breast, the breast that I'd fantasized about, that same breast, the breast that I'd needed since I was a child, that very same breast that I'd desperately ached to take into my mouth and suckle. My hopes, my dreams, my world, cupped at last in my hand. She relaxed against me and her lips blazed a trail to mine. She straddled my upper leg, and my body temperature immediately rose another ten degrees when I felt the apex of her legs settle on my thigh. I squeezed her breast again, and let my fingertips travel from the edge of her breast, down, down, s-l-o-w-l-y, to her nipple. I rolled her nipple around in my hand. Her lips, firm and passionate, wrestled with my own. My tongue reached out experimentally to hers, and she took it between her lips, suckling it, reaching her own tongue to meet it. My hand, the hand that wasn't on her breast, moved down, squeezing her tiny, firm waist. I dared keep moving, in one way content and another way dissatisfied with what I already had. My eyes were wide with anticipation and my belly shaky with an emotion between fear and nervousness. I was so caught up in the moment that I barely remembered to breathe. I relaxed for a moment, and promised to myself that I would be good to her. It was the least that she deserved. She lifted herself, adjusting her body so she kneeled over me. "My God." The whisper was wrenched from Andrea's mouth in a throaty tone, her crystal blue eyes wide with pleasure. Her breath was hot on my lips. "I've been loving you since we were children..." I whispered to her, my hand creeping lower, lower, gripping her ass. "I... I've wanted you like this. Ever since Sunday school. Ever since I was too young to understand." I paused. "Really?" She nodded, her cheeks flushed. "Yes." I let my hand travel over her thigh to her belly, feeling the perfect flatness that natural metabolism had attained. I inched down to her mons pubis. "Is this okay, Andrea?" I asked in hushed tones. She reddened even more and nodded, her lips greeting mine again, her kiss more insistent this time, more needy. I slipped my hand between her thighs, and she shivered when I touched her, there. And there. And there. She was hot and trembling. She gasped. I tickled her lightly for a moment, teasing her, and then moved my fingers to her button and zipper, popping them loose in a shaking second. She hummed with pleasure. I slid my fingers into the band of her white cotton panties, and her skin jumped. I worked them through the bush of wiry pubic hair, playing with her hairs, tugging at them, twirling them around my fingers. She moaned. I let my index finger slip downward to her clit, which was hard and bulging on her skin. Andrea rested her head in the hollow of my shoulder, her body hot and trembling. And she moaned. I massaged her clit, up and down, rolling it around on my finger. I let it travel further, and it met a wet, slippery slit. There was a small squishing sound as I swirled my finger around in her lubrication, allowing the very tip of my finger to dip inside her. Andrea's fingers tightened on my shoulders, and her lips started to caress my neck, her breath heavy and gasping in my ear. Her breath quickened. I worked it in and out of her slit, letting the fingertip into her while the length of my finger rubbed against her rigid nub. She bit her bottom lip, unable to conceal her squeals. I kept going at a slow, leisurely pace, my excitement quickened by her trembling arousal. In, out, in, out. "Oh! Oh, my God!" She trembled on me, her hole clenching and squeezing around my fingertip. I didn't let up, but went just a bit faster, wiggling my fingertip into her just a bit more, pressing my finger against her slit just a smidgen harder. "OOOH!" She bit into my neck, her cries muffled as she jerked on my hand, bucking her hips every which way. "MMMPH! Mmmm..." Her cries quieted. Her hips slowed. Her teeth let go of my neck, and she lifted up her head, squeezing her eyes shut as she continued to ride my finger. Finally, she collapsed, panting into my ear. I pulled my hand out of her panties and put my arms around her, holding her close to me. I tilted her chin toward me and she turned her glance up, gazing into my eyes. Her eyes were sad again. I kissed her on the forehead. I realized, quite suddenly, what her sad aura was all about. I whispered, "My little angel. You need to realize that the only person you answer to is yourself. No, not even your parents, not anymore ... not if it drowns out who you really are. You are a beautiful person. Don't let them kill you with your guilt." She looked deep into my eyes, and whispered, "It can't be a sin if it feels so right, can it?" After gazing at me for what seemed like eternity, she smiled. That was last night. A beautiful, angelic night. I snapped out of my memories to find Nick looking at me strangely. I smiled at him, and stood up, taking my tray with me. I set down the tray, and took a seat next to her. She lifted her head from the novel she was reading and grinned at me. I leaned over to kiss her. Stunned silence from my buddies. As she closed her eyes and nuzzled my lips, her hand grazed the tip of my breast, brushing my hard nipple. I shivered. "We should get back to our room, Jessica," she whispered into my ear, "there's something waiting for you." So we left the guys, wide-eyed and incredulous, in the cafeteria. Andrea and I had better things to do.

[bibl]

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/13379.txt

Dimitri M

Showtime - Catch a Falling Star

"You look sensational, Bridget." He gleamed. "Why thank you, Steve." She beamed. "But I bet you say that to all the girls." Steve smiled, "You're running with a high class crowd, but you are unique." He lifted her chin and kissed her tenderly, her response was warm and firm. "Boy does that ever sound familiar." They both looked up to see Jennifer and Sarah leaning over the railing at the top of the stairs, dressed in a pair of smaller than would be wise towels, from down here he could see both of their muffs quite clearly. Their wet hair wrapped up in a set of seemingly bigger towels. Sarah turned to Jennifer in a mocking tone, "You're so special my dear." Jennifer replied in like, "You're my only love." They gestured and laughed. Steve and Bridget smiled at them, "I'm almost old enough to be your Father, and I can come up there and paddle both of your butts." The girls descended the stairs, "You wish." Sarah challenged. "You had your chance." Jennifer followed. Steve stared at them, trying not to think how seductive they looked in those towels, while he was in Bridget's arms. "You young kids today." He said shaking his head. They ignored him and each gave Bridget a kiss hello. She released Steve and looked around the room. "Looks like you girls did okay today." Jennifer smiled, "Ya we got some really cool stuff." She held up a cute little red dress, for Bridget to see. "Very nice taste." Steve's tongue almost touched the floor when he envisioned how she would look in the outfit. "We'll see you guys at 9PM sharp, here's the directions to my Dad's place, and the phone number." Sarah took the paper and nodded. "See you there." She replied. "Well you all ready Steve?" He grabbed his jacket and offered his arm. Bridget slipped her arm through his. "Mind your manners now." Sarah smiled as she kissed him like a mother. "And eat all your veggies." Jennifer said condescendingly. Steve smirked and turned to make a quick grab for their towels. But the girls being younger and faster they saw it coming, and put their arms around their waists, quickly stepping back out of reach. "Pervert!" They shouted at him. Bridget pulled Steve towards the door, muttering something about child molester. The pair got in her sky blue Cadillac. Steve asked her like a teenage kid if he could drive. She gave him the keys, "Be gentle." She smiled. "Aren't I always?" Steve replied. Bridget rolled her blue eyes and shook her head. The car was a dream to drive, but then again weren't they all. As they drove through L.A. and followed the highway through the San Fernando Valley, Bridget chatted about her famous family. Telling Steve about their past and present relations. Aunt Jane was coming to dinner and Winona's parents too. She told him who was coming to the reception later. It sounded like an Oscar alumni reunion, except it was Uncle Jack and Uncle Dennis, instead of Mr. Nicholson and Mr. Hopper. Steve smiled, "And me without my autograph book." Bridget looked at him daringly, "Don't be so tacky." She gazed fondly at the man she was to introduce to her family, and friends, a man she barely knew but had come to love and trust so quickly. What was it about this virtual stranger that so captured her admiration, and a desire to be close to. Could it be his confidence, charm, sensitivity, or maybe it was his sexual prowess. "Wait a minute, what if he's bisexual?" She thought to herself. "No he couldn't be, Oh God that's why he seems so perfect." Then again she and the other girls were bisexual, but that was different she reasoned. Steve caught her staring at him, "Penny for your thoughts?" She smiled generously, "Oh nothing." He glanced over at her, "You're a good actress Bridget, but not that good." She looked out the window trying to seem nonchalant, "Mind if I ask you a personal question?" He looked over and grinned, "Sure go ahead." She looked back at him her piercing blue eyes full of worry, Now please don't be mad at me for asking but, are you...." Steve glanced over at her "Great he thought one of those questions." He listened for the safe to drop. "Bisexual?" It took a second for the question to actually make it to his brain. He glanced at her a couple of times, realizing that either answer might be appropriate. He decided on the truth in a diplomatic manner. "Well I've never done it with a man before, if that's what you're asking." Bridget took that as a no, and breathed a huge sigh of relief. "What made you ask that?" He smiled. "Just curious, I mean you are quite sexually active, yet you're also quite reserved and very sensitive towards others." Steve grinned, "Let's just say before I met you ladies I was almost a priest, and as for being sensitive, it only applies to those I care about." She smiled warmly, since I'm taking you to meet my family, "Is there, anything about you I should know?" She queried. "You mean do I have any strange habits, history of mental illness, weird beliefs?" She nodded, "Don't make it sound so bad." A sly look came over his face, "Well I believe in U.F.O.s, I like to clip my toe nails at the dinner table, oh and I think Elvis is still alive." Bridget frowned, "Cute, really cute." Steve shook his head "Bisexual, really. Wait until I get you alone, or maybe I'll just take you on the table during the appetizer, that should make the dinner conversation more interesting huh?" She made a face at him, "Now you're just being crude." Steve glanced over "Sorry, I guess you can't just pick up a tabloid, and read about my life history, or surf the net, and find a fan page on me huh. I promise I'll tell you more about me when I get a chance." He looked over at her soft form as the sun light bounced off her golden hair, her sea blue eyes stared at the rows of orange trees as they went by. "Bridget?" She turned her face slightly as if caught in the middle of a daydream. "Huh?" Steve continued, "Will you be going back to your house in New York any time soon?" She shook her head. "Not till maybe next March." "I've been thinking, I really don't need to be back in New York until Monday, maybe I could take the next two days off and take kind of a long weekend." Bridget shrugged her shoulders not wanting to appear to eager. "Do you have any idea as to what your plans are?" She said casually. He shrugged, "I don't know, I thought maybe we could..." Bridget wondered "Well I don't know, I have an interview and photo shoot tomorrow with a magazine. I was going to spend the weekend with my Dad in Cancun. Ever gone horseback riding?" Steve shook his head. " My Dad has a 300 acre ranch in Colorado. It's wonderful up there this time of the year, and I have a mare named Carmel, interested?" Steve thought for a second,"Well if your dad doesn't mind it sound great." Bridget let out something between a squeal and a purr as she undid her seat belt and slid across the seat to give him a big hug. "Now Bridget mind the State Transport safety regulations." He lectured. "I'm sure my Dad will let me take you to the ranch." She said, like a sixteen-year-old, who was hoping to get her Father's permission to borrow the car. "We're almost there, turn up this next right," Steve pulled off onto what looked like a dirt road that went on for a mile. "How big is this place?" He asked. "Only two hundred acres or so, we grow oranges here, and keep a small stable of horses. I usually bring Carmel down here for the winter. There's the driveway." She pointed out. Steve pulled up to a stone gateway with an old style wrought iron gate.There was a camera atop one of the posts, and a small control box with a key card slot and speaker. Bridget leaned across Steve as she inserted the card and entered the code. Steve wanted to slide his hand up her dress, but was mindful of the camera pointing down at them. Wouldn't want to make a bad first impression on the hosts. Instead, he used his left hand, which was under her body, to cop a cheap feel of her breast as she moved in front of him. She finished entering the code and pulled back from him. "Charming, I'm bringing home exactly the kind of guy my Dad always warned me about." Steve smiled as the gate opened and he drove through. The driveway itself was long, over a hundred yards, ending in a parking circle big enough for twenty cars. The house was a popular Spanish-style three-story structure with the usual red-tiled roof and white adobe finish. Bridget pointed him to a parking spot. Turning off the engine, he handed her the keys, and she kissed him on the cheek. "What was that for?" Steve queried. "Luck, just relax and don't let anyone intimidate you." Steve began to worry. They got out of the car and walked up the wide front steps. About halfway up, the door opened, and the family came out to meet them. Bridget ran forward and gave her Dad, Mom, Stepmother, Aunt Jane, and Uncle Ted big hugs. Then she turned around as Steve reached the top of the stairs. "Everybody, I'd like you to meet Mr. Steve Colt." She then introduced Steve to her family, most of whom he knew by reputation except for her mother Susan and stepmother Becky. Steve was really shocked to meet Ted Turner, owner of the biggest media corporations in the world, including Fox, Time/Warner, and CNN. He had just donated one billion dollars to the United Nations. Peter Fonda shook Steve's hand and then gave him a big hug, like one of the non-pretentious, down-to-earth characters he always played. "I can only offer my family's thanks for saving our Bridget's life and that of her friend. We're gratefully indebted to you, Mr. Colt." All Steve could think of saying was, "You're welcome, and call me Steve." Bridget's mother Susan gave him a bone-crushing hug that only a mother can give, and her stepmother and aunt were a bit more gentle. Steve could see that Jane Fonda still managed to retain a hint of her younger glamour. Ted gave him a firm, strong, manly handshake. Peter ushered them all into the house, "You're the first ones here. Winona's family should be here soon." The inside of the house was decorated in a Western country motif. It was large and open inside, with one wall dominated by a large stone fireplace. The living room had the typical high ceiling and heavy wooden beams. A set of stairs went up on one wall to an open second floor. Opposite that, at the back of the house, were a set of large sliding doors that led out onto a huge wooden deck. The group settled into the living room, and Peter ushered Steve over to the bar, "Care for an apéritif?" Steve gave a slight nod, "Scotch on the rocks, please." Peter held up a bottle of 50-year-old whisky. Steve nodded. "Ted?" Mr. Turner looked up from his conversation with Bridget and Susan, "Ya, thanks." Mrs. Fonda and Jane went into the kitchen, and Steve could hear them rattling pots and pans. Peter poured the drinks, handing one to Steve and one to Ted, who came over and got it. Steve noted that Peter had a club soda. Just then, the phone rang. Peter excused himself, "That reminds me, I do have an important call to make before dinner, if you'll pardon me, Steve." Steve smiled, "Of course." Bridget popped up off the couch, "Would you like a tour of the house?" He nodded, "Sure, this is a great place." She looked over her shoulder at her mom, "Wanna come with us?" Susan shook her head, "I'll wait here for our other guests, but you two go ahead." She took Steve by the arm and dragged him down the hall. The place was huge, with seven bedrooms, four baths, a large rec room, two kitchens, a screening room, and a den. The last room Bridget took him to looked like that of a teenage girl, with a white four-poster bed complete with canopy and matching dresser drawers. It was painted pink with pictures of horses on the wall. "This was my room when I came to visit Dad, after they got divorced. You know you're the only guy I've ever been able to get up here." Bridget giggled. Steve smiled and pushed her towards the bed, but she pressed her hands against his chest. "NO, Don't even think about it. My parents are right downstairs, Steve!" His arms enfolded her buttocks, picking her up off the floor. Bridget moved her hands up his chest and around his neck. Her dress rode up high on her thighs as she wrapped her legs around his waist. They closed their eyes and moved their lips closer, "Oh God, I can't believe I'm doing this..." She whispered. He walked over to the bed, pulling down the short zipper at the back of her dress. Bridget got down from him and slipped the straps from her shoulders in a provocative manner. The dress slid down her pale form and gathered in a bunch around her ankles. She stepped out of the material and turned her back to him. Stretching her hands up, she grabbed the top of the bedpost where it joined the canopy. Steve kneeled behind her, pulling aside the crotch of her purple satin bikini panties. His tongue made her shudder with expectancy, and it only took a few laps to ease her passion. He got up and unbuckled his pants, woody ready as always, raring to go. Reaching around the front, he rubbed her stomach with one hand and opened her panties with the other. Leaning forward, he pressed the dome of his cock against her vulva. Still clutching the bedpost, she arched her back and impaled herself on the tip of his dick. "Ohh yaaa!" Bridget quietly moaned. Steve pleasured her with the rest of his prick as it slipped into her warm, inviting vagina, like a shell into a breech. Knowing they had but a few minutes, they rutted silently like a pair of dogs. His fingers played her clit and nipples like piano keys. Steve stroked Bridget long, hard, and fast. Their hearts beating faster, Bridget's cunt snapped down on his cock with a vice-like grip. "Ohhhhhh ...fuck Steve II'mmm....cuummmiing." He shot his load into her womb, which took it like a warm drink. "BRIDGET!!!" Her mother's voice stopped them cold, like a Lada hitting a cement wall at 100 mph. She called from downstairs. "CUUUUMMMING MOTHEEEER!" Bridget screamed back over his shoulder, out of breath. They quickly cleaned up with some Kleenex and got dressed. She gave him a quick kiss and smoothed her dress. The two tromped downstairs to see Winona and her parents standing in the front hall. The two families had met before on several occasions, mostly at the Oscars or other awards ceremonies, this was their first private get-together. Bridget could feel a bit of his semen trickle down her left thigh as she walked over to meet them. Winona was dressed in a stunning form-hugging black dress that ended just above the knees. The outfit was sleeveless, with straps that tied around the back of the neck, leaving it backless. The front was modest with a high neckline. Bridget greeted her lover and her parents with a polite kiss. Steve followed her like a shy child. Winona stepped up to him, giving him a social peck on the cheek. "Very nice to meet you again, Mr. Colt. I'd like you to meet my parents, Cindy and Michael Horowitz. Mom and dad, Mr. Steven Colt." Steve almost collapsed under the force of Winona's mother's hug, and her father must have shaken his hand for a full thirty seconds. They were even more down-to-earth than Peter Fonda; they looked like aged hippies. Then Susan came out of the kitchen and announced that dinner was ready, so Peter and Becky ushered everyone into the dining room. The girls followed behind everyone else, "You'd better get that just-fucked look off your face before your mom sees it." Winona whispered. Bridget struggled to hide the smile. "And while you're at it, you might want to do something about the snail trail down your leg." Bridget stopped and looked down at her legs. "Gotcha." Her friend smirked. The room was large and well-lit by the natural light coming through the large tinted windows along one wall. Steve was seated at the head of the table, with the girls on either side. Next to Winona sat her mother, father, and Becky. Next to Bridget sat her mother Susan, Uncle Ted, and Aunt Jane. Peter took his seat at the other end of the table. As the group sat, Peter asked Winona's father to give the blessing. Saying a short Jewish prayer, he thanked God for the food as well as the timely intervention of Steve into their daughter's lives. Dinner was already on the table, and everyone was told to dig in. The menu had been carefully prepared not to offend the Horowitz's sensitivity, but since they weren't orthodox Jews, it wasn't a real problem. The dinner conversation began with Steve telling them about himself and his family. Mr. Turner was really interested in Steve's career with Jane's Magazine. "That magazine is the 'Vogue' of the military community. Tried to buy it once, couldn't get enough shares for a hostile takeover." Everybody laughed like the boss had just told a joke. Before the discussion got too deep into his military career, Steve managed to direct the conversation to safer ground. By engaging the families in questions about themselves, being careful to avoid interview-type questions like "How did she get started in acting?" Steve was right about Winona's parents; they were into the Hippie scene long before it was a scene. Her father was strangely enough a librarian, and her mother was some kind of a scholar of Buddhism, Hinduism, anything that was spiritual and exotic. (I said exotic, not erotic. Get your minds out of the gutter.) Eventually, the table talk came around to the "accident." They had heard the girls' version of what happened that fateful day.But they eagerly wanted to know Steve's side of the story. By this time they had just finished dessert of Baked Alaska, which Bridget had made herself. "All that talent and she can cook too." Steve grinned innocently. Bridget blushed under the double-edged compliment. It took most of Winona's acting ability not to start giggling, "And how about you Winona, are you any good in the kitchen?" Steve turned to ask, smiling. "Oh, I can manage pretty well, thank you." She smiled back casually as her shoe connected with his shin. Steve didn't even flinch. "Winona is a great cook, Steve," her mother interjected, "She does a wonderful thing with zucchini." "I'd like to try that sometime," he said with interest. "Mother!" Winona whined. Steve smiled politely, "I'd like to try it sometime." Winona smiled back at him and gave him another kick under the table. Steve sipped at his coffee, while giving his account of the tale, easily downplaying any heroics, simply because there were none. Also, he didn't want to upset the girls by dredging up bad memories, especially Bridget. The only amazing part of the story to him is that he was there at all. "Nevertheless, we're all thankful you chose the road less taken." Peter Fonda raised his cup and made a toast to Steve. "Listen, after dinner we have a small reception planned, nothing big, only about seventy people, all very dear friends we'd like you to meet. Hope you don't mind," Peter asked. "Not at all. Bridget already told me about it. I'm flattered," Steve countered. "If we're done here, let's all adjourn to the veranda," Becky suggested. Out of habit, Steve got up and carried his plate into the kitchen before anyone could say anything. Bridget and Winona smiled and followed suit. They could hear their parents behind them gossiping. Steve looked around the immense main kitchen for the dishwasher. Hearing the fall of approaching footsteps, he turned to see the girls. "Okay, I give up, where do these go?" Bridget nodded, "Sinks over there." It took ten steps to get to the sink. "Your families seem to be a nice bunch," Steve said, rinsing off the dishes in the sink. "We're glad you approve, Mr. Colt," Winona said quietly, mindful of the echo that kitchens carried. "They like you too, should have seen the looks on their faces when you left the room," Bridget whispered. Just then, the ladies headed by Susan came into the kitchen, "Oh, Bridget, you shouldn't let Steve be doing that!" Steve could remember hearing other mothers say that before, but not quite in the same context. Bridget looked over at her mom, "He insisted," she replied weakly, taking a glass and putting it in the machine. Steve turned around, "It's all right, ma'am. Something about doing dishes helps me relax." Becky smiled, "Nevertheless, you're the guest. Why don't you girls take Steve outside, and we'll be along in a few minutes." The girls led Steve out to the back of the house, where they found Ted and Michael discussing Asian economics out on the deck. The two men looked over and waved. "Where's my Dad?" Bridget asked curiously. "Upstairs," Uncle Ted motioned. She turned to her friends to excuse herself and returned inside. The deck, which was on the lower level, was about thirty yards long, the same length of the house, and ten yards wide, with a short set of wide steps in the middle leading to the garden. The garden had a winding stone path which looped around the two large stone fountains and numerous plants, trees, and flowerbeds. It went back fifty yards from the edge of the deck, ending where the orange orchard began, with its rows of orange trees as far as could be seen. The sun was just about to set over the mountains in the distance. Winona and Steve sat down at a nearby table, "I never did ask how you two became friends," he pondered. She smiled, "Well, typical story, we met at an audition. I had just arrived in L.A. a month before, didn't really know anyone. She invited me over to her mom's place, and that was it." Steve scratched his chin, "Who got the role?" Winona grinned, "Drew Barrymore. But Bridget's got her Dad to get me into a couple of more auditions, and after four months, I got my first paying job. She's a really strong person, it's not easy when people expect you to be part of a legacy. In a way, she had a tougher start than I did, always being compared to her father or grandfather. It took her awhile to get over that, she just needed time. Her family gets like that, did you know that her grandmother committed suicide, and also the woman she's named after, her Dad's stepsister?" Steve shook his head, "You're not saying that Bridget is..." Winona waved her hand, "No, but sometimes she does let her feelings get the better of her." He smiled grimly, "This should be an interesting weekend." Winona blinked, "You're not going back to New York?" "Colorado, if her Dad approves," he shrugged. She smiled secretively, "Thanks, it'll do her a world of good." Steve looked at her, "I don't know how I'm going to explain this to the others." Winona put up her hand, "I'll tell them, I'm sure they'll understand." Steve grinned, "Even Conan?" She laughed, "I'm sure Alyssa will be okay with it, but if not, you'll have to face her on your own." He frowned, "Ouch, I'd rather be thrown to the lions." Bridget appeared in the doorway, her Father right behind her. She came out, he motioned for Steve to come in. She gave him a little smile as they passed. Peter took Steve into his den, like the rest of the house, it was decorated with old West artifacts. Steve closed the door as he entered. Peter sat on the oak desk and gestured for Steve to sit in one of the padded red leather chairs. He couldn't help but notice the large oak gun cabinet in the corner. It had glass doors, he could see at least two hunting rifles with high-powered scopes, several shotguns, a couple of old Remington repeaters. "After the accident, the girls stayed with us at the ranch for a week. Bridget would wake up in the middle of the night, upset, scared." Steve looked surprised, "Is she okay now?" Peter nodded, "She's improved, but... well, Becky and I think it might be a good idea for you two to spend the weekend at our ranch in Colorado. My daughter seems to feel comfortable with you, more settled. Miss Ryder also thought it might be good for her to spend some time with her, if you could take the time." Steve stood up, "I understand, near-death experiences can be quite traumatic. I'd be delighted to spend the weekend with her." Steve could hardly believe he had said that in front of her Father. Peter stood up and they shook hands, "We'll make travel arrangements tomorrow." Steve turned to head for the door, "One last thing, Steve." Peter placed a hand on his shoulder, "Oh, oh." Steve thought. "Here's the 'if you touch my little girl, I'll have your legs broken' speech." Instead, Mr. Fonda said, "Bridget thinks this is her idea, we'd like to keep it that way." Steve smiled out of relief, "Very good." By the time they rejoined the group, the deck was set up with food and drinks. A few of the guests had already arrived, it was 8:45 PM. The patio lights clicked on. Becky handed Steve a drink, "Is it all settled?" Steve looked at her and nodded, "Listen, we're planning to make a small presentation to you, but prior to that, we'll introduce you simply as Steve, a friend of the Horowitz's, okay?" He smiled, "I'm not much good at this pretend stuff, but I'll try." As the guests drifted in, Steve talked with Winona's parents, this kept him out of the way, since most people would be engaged by one of the Fondas or Miss Ryder. Steve was careful to watch when one of the girls arrived. Heather came first, with Alyssa in tow. Heather was dressed in white, and Alyssa in black, very nice dresses with matching patterned jackets. They showed little cleavage and not too much leg. Jennie arrived next with Tiffany Amber Thiessen, Shannon Doherty, and Tori Spelling. They looked to die for, well, Jennie did. She was wearing a demure red skirt with a white blouse and matching waistcoat. Tori was wearing a loud yellow one-piece dress that was cut quite low in the front; Steve couldn't believe the size of her breasts, they had to be 38DD at least. Tiffany was a bit more daring in a black skirt and black sheer blouse with a nice lacy bra slip underneath. Her breasts were almost as big as Tori's. Shannon, on the other hand, was very conservative in her ocean blue pantsuit. The last of the girls to arrive were Sarah and Jennifer. Sarah looked dashing in a light cream-colored dress with small white birds; the dress was sleeveless, but a large blue patterned scarf covering her shoulders was tied in a knot at the front. Jennifer wore a deep green skirt with a dark blue blouse and jacket, looking almost grown up. Steve was a tad disappointed she wasn't wearing that little red number, but glad she had the sense not to. That would have caused a lot of whiplash, not to mention marital disruptions tonight. Not one of the girls looked his way, but he knew they had seen him. Steve saw a few famous faces in the crowd, including Jack Nicholson, who made an entrance, Glenn Close, who was elegantly attired as always, and Robert Redford, who looked so plain and short. He could see Al Pacino trading jokes with Gary Oldman. Sigourney Weaver was taller than he expected, and she was one of the few stars to come straight over to Winona's parents; Steve was surprised at the firmness of her handshake. Mary Stuart Masterson was just adorable, and he hoped he could work her into his private club. Charlie Sheen arrived with Ginger Lynne, and they must be back together. Man, did she ever look good in real life. (Not that he ever watched those kinds of movies.) Steve hated to admit it, but the former porn star could even make Heather look plain. Steve tried not to stare at her too much, if the girls caught him, it would be, "Asta la vista, baby." They'd cook his bacon real good.sauntered forward slowly, every guy in the room looking at her luscious form. It was like Marilyn Monroe herself had just walked in. Stopping in front him she held out her hand, he took it gently, "Mr. Colt, my name is Alyssa Milano." Steve tried to keep himself from being drawn into her deep hazel eyes. "I'm not an official spokesperson, or anything for Amnesty International. But on behalf of all those in need of sanctuary and protection, I would like to thank you for your wonderful compassion." It was a touching speech, she leaned forward and kissed him softly on both cheeks. Some of the women began to cry. "You're most welcome, Alyssa," he whispered. Many in the audience thought it was just a quick stunt by Alyssa to get attention, even so, some like Mr. Spelling gave her credit for fast thinking and guts. Mr. Horowitz produced a small camera and asked if it was okay to take a picture for the family album. Steve was a bit uncomfortable, but since the Fondas went along, he didn't object. Steven Spielberg volunteered to take the picture, the women sat in the front with the men standing behind them. The crowd broke into one last round of applause, and Mr. & Mrs. Fonda announced that there was a buffet on the deck. Many people came forward at once to shake Steve's and hug the girls. Jack Nicholson and Dennis Hopper were first in line, it took twenty minutes for Steve to work his way out of the melee. The girls all managed to get Steve alone to talk shortly after, their responses were, "Are you nuts?" from Jennifer and Sarah, to "That must have hurt." from Heather and Alyssa. Jennie walked Steve out of the room under the pretense of telling him all about PETA. She took him to an empty bedroom. Steve closed the door behind them and locked it. "That was without a doubt the most noble, and foolish gesture, I have ever seen in my life. One million dollars is a lot of money, even to me," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. "You know I can't keep the money. Someone finds out I have a bank account in the Cayman Islands, there would have been a lot of questions to answer, and maybe if they got lucky or were thorough, they would have found out about all of you, and I'm not going to risk that." He leaned down and tasted her full lips. "Nevertheless, my furry friends and I are indebted to you, $250,000 is more money than PETA has had in the last two years put together. You knew I was involved with them, didn't you?" she said inquisitively. He smiled, "It's my job, remember." She broke the bond and stepped back from him, "Well, my furry little friends want to thank you personally." Jennie cooed as she lifted her red skirt to reveal the black stockings, garter belt, and red thong panties she was wearing. "Well, like what you see?" She purred. "Woof?" He replied. Dropping the hem of her skirt, she walked out onto the balcony, it was at the side of the house. The darkness of the night enveloped them. Jennie stood looking out, her soft white hands gripping the wooden railing. Steve stood behind her as she widened her stance, he lifted up the back of her skirt. She reached back and unzipped his pants, extracting his meat, stroking it gently. Steve knelt down behind her and licked Jennie from her waist to her snatch and back again. His tongue making her shiver as it glided down the crack of her ass, kissing her vulva at each contact. A wetness seeped from between her legs, as a moan escaped her lips. She pushed his head into her sex as he ate her hors d'oeuvre. When she was wetter than a fish, Jennie turned around and sank to her knees. Steve stood up, placing his hands on the rail behind her. She looked up and gave him a glamorous smile of white perfect teeth as his cock entered her mouth. He rocked back and forth on his heels as Jennie wrapped her tongue around his dick in her usual proficient manner. After a few gentle sucks and quiet licks, Jennie stopped short before she got a mouthful. Not that she would have minded, but this time she wanted him to cum in her cunt. Steve helped her to her feet and turned her around. Jennie raised the back of her skirt for him, exposing her white tight ass for his viewing and entertainment pleasure. She spread her feet wider as he penetrated her cunt with his manly rod. "Ohhh yaaa..you brrring out the tramp in meeee. Treat me like your private whore, and take me like a bitch.." Steve stepped in closer as Jennie took his length, he put one hand around her waist and the other on the railing beside hers. Jennie wiggled around on his cock like a hooked fish as Steve thrust her slow and hard. Their lips kissed in a search for lust. She let out little gasps each time her pussy settled at the base of his cock, flexing her trimmed long legs as she was fucked from behind like a whore in an alley. Her vaginal cavity rippling with pulses of sensation. As she felt her lover drive her cunt walls apart again, and again. Only to have her tightly wound pussy press the foreign object back. Steve grunted as his thrusts became faster and higher. Poor Jennie was being lifted to her toes, even in the two-inch heels that she wore. Fortunately, the fear of being discovered at any moment heightened her emotional erotic sensitivity, her pelvis heaved violently as her orgasm erupted, when Steve set off her G-spot, almost bucking her off the balcony. Good thing they had a tight grip on that railing. "Here's another donation for you to take to the bank, Miss Garth." Steve's cock emptied the last of its reserves into Jennie's open womb, spreading warmth throughout her entire body. She collapsed into his arms, pivoting on his still ridged penis, while he nipped at her neck. Feeling himself soften within her, Steve withdrew his spent prick and let her skirt drop back into place. Jennie turned around and kissed him deeply with a passion of a thousand angels. "I'll keep that one for myself," she mused. He held her hands as she bent down on her knees and took his limp cock into her warm mouth once again. Jennie's talented tongue licked their juices from his dick as she deep-throated him several times. If he had any more to give, he would have cum down her throat in a second. Steve helped her up and put his arm around her waist as they walked back into the room. "Thanks, Jen, that was unforgettable." She smiled slyly, "For a quarter of a million bucks, it had better be." She shook her blonde locks, "The things I do for charity." They both laughed and headed back downstairs. Jennie squeezed her thighs together as she felt his cum leaking from her pussy. Heather met them in the hall. "And where have you two been, or should I ask?" Jennie smiled "I was just telling Mr. Colt, more about how PETA works, and thanking him again for his financial assistance." Heather looked down the long hall and gently backed Jennie against the wall. Smiling at her, she placed a hand on her leg and moved it up under the smaller blonde's skirt. Jennie's eyes went wide as she watched for someone coming. "Heather," she whispered. Steve froze, not sure of Heather's intent. Jennie let out a small yelp as the older woman inserted a finger into her still wet, cum-soaked pussy, and twirled it around. Heather pulled it out quickly and brought the slimy mixture to her lips, "Mmmmmmmmhh, not a bad year," she grinned evilly. Jennie sighed, "Well, if that's what you wanted, why didn't you just ask?" She said, raising her skirt. "Shit!" Steve whispered, "What are you two doing!" The girls looked at him and grinned, "You just keep watch, tiger, you had your fun," Heather told him. She then sank to her knees and proceeded to lick his cum from her friend's dripping snatch. Jennie widened her stance and leaned back against the wall. Using her hands to open up Jennie wide, Heather probed deep with her tongue, licking the sperm from Jennie's walls. "Mmmmh..yaa, get it all, Heather," she said, bucking on her friend's face. Jen had another smaller orgasm. Heather was careful not to smear her makeup, after she was done, she gave Jennie a wet, tongue-wrenching kiss that made Steve green with envy. "Thanks, Heather," Jennie said dreamily. "What are friends for," she responded, "By the way, Patricia Richardson is outside asking for you." Jennie nodded. "Come on, Steve, I'll introduce you to around some more," Heather offered. "Oh, one more thing," Heather cautioned as she pulled her hand out of her pocket. "Breath mint?" She said, offering them to Jennie. They both giggled. Jennie replied, taking two, Heather took one herself, as did Steve, shaking his head. "Thanks again, Steve, really, you're the greatest," Jen said, giving him a parting kiss. He grinned widely, "Worth every penny, Miss Garth." Her hand swung out at empty air as Heather yanked him away. Heather escorted Steve down the hall, "Well, you're quite a hit tonight. The women think you're adorable, the men are respectful, but they have their suspicions." Steve flinched. "About the money," she continued. "Some suspect you're secretly wealthy, others think you're trying to con your way into the Fonda /Turner fortune." Steve laughed, "Anymore interesting gossip?" Heather grinned, "They're trying to figure out which one of the two you're sleeping with. Many think it's Bridget, others suspect Winona, the rest are convinced you're too nice of a guy, so you must be gay." Steve looked at her sternly. "Hey, don't look at me like that. I didn't start it," she giggled. "Maybe you could flirt with me a bit and I could...." She looked at him sideways, "You'd love that, wouldn't you." He grinned sheepishly, "Just a thought." Entering the main parlor, they discovered most people had gone outside. Tori Spelling, Meg Ryan, and Mira Sorvino were sitting on a couch talking. Glenn Close was nearby with Danny Glubber, and Jack Lemmon. Steve made a beeline for the trio on the couch, "Behave yourself," Heather whispered. Steve answered out of the corner of his mouth, "Yes, mother." Meg Ryan looked up as they approached, "Hi, Heather."cute button nose and ice blue eyes. Heather made the introductions, Steve almost looked at Tori's tits while shaking her hand they looked a lot bigger up close. Mira Sorovino was a slim elegant figure, extremely attractive in her short white front buttoned dress. Although her boobs were much smaller than Miss Spellings, her long sexy legs more than made up for it. He was surprised how intelligent she was, Tori was a little lacking in that department, course she didn't need brains. As Steve was talking to the girls, Bridget came over with Eric Stoltz and introduced them. Heather and Meg excused themselves going outside to get some air. After a while Bridget noticed that Tori was flirting with Steve, casually adjusting the straps of her top, spilling wine on her breasts, giving him little "Fuck me!" looks when she thought Bridget wasn't looking. Bridget made the excuse of wanting to Steve to meet someone else and pried him away from the group. "Nice girl that Miss Spelling." He mused as the walked out of earshot. Bridget groaned and mumbled something about,"Silicone brain implants." Out on the deck people were eating, some dancing to the low blues music piped outside. A cool breeze swept through the night, as the garden glowed under the soft exterior lights hung in the trees. Looking for the others, he saw Sarah talking with Jennifer Jason-Leigh, and Helen Hunt. Winona was eating at a table with Val and Joanne Kilmer, while Jennifer was dancing with Johnny Depp and Alyssa was dancing with Brad Pitt. Bridget pulled Steve out onto the dance floor, it was "Strangers in the night." She felt soft and light in his arms, "Hey you're a pretty good dancer." She exclaimed. He smiled, "Officer training school, and you're very good yourself." She blushed, "Finishing school." People remarked how well they moved together. "Enjoying yourself?" She asked timidly. "Your family has some very nice friends. I can't believe who I met tonight, I shook hands with Clint Eastwood, Sigourney Weaver kissed me!" He smiled like a schoolboy. Bridget smiled, "Uncle Clint, gave me my first pony on my 10th birthday." Steve looked at her, "Uncle Clint!" They moved closer together almost touching, he could see the pale moonlight reflecting from her eyes. She couldn't see a damn thing in his. The song ended and the two walked over to the railing. They gazed out at the garden, fountains trickled water, into the small ponds, which glimmered in the soft light. "Whose that down there with Heather and Jennie?" Steve asked. Bridget peered at the three standing at the bottom of the lawn. "I don't know." Steve saw something that didn't quite look right. "Do Jennie and Heather smoke?" He asked casually. She shook her head. He held Bridget by the upper arm, and whispered into her ear as he turned her around towards the house. "Go find your Father, get him out here now." A look of bewilderment dropped over her face. Before she could ask why he was gone. Bridget went back into the house. Steve turned and left, walking quickly down the steps to the lawn. Taking the snaking pathway around the flowerbeds and fountains. He was ten yards away from the trio, the man had his back to him. Bridget found her dad in the kitchen with Steven Spielberg and Uncle Ted. Peter smiled at her when he saw her come in, then frowned as he saw the look on her face. All three men stopped talking, "What's wrong honey?" He inquired. "There's this guy outside, at the bottom of the garden with Jen and Heather. I don't know who he is." "Steve thinks there's something wrong, he's gone down there to..." BANG!! BANG!! They all turned to look in the direction of the sounds, Bridget ran for the door before anyone could garb her. "BRIDGET!" Peter yelled after her, then he and Ted ran too. The sound of gunfire rang out the people on the deck froze, and looked around, Robert Redford spotted the gunman first. People rushed to the rail like witnessing a car accident, some ran back into the house. Becky went inside and called 911. Bridget came out rushing across the deck running towards the steps to the garden. Sidney Portier swept her up in his arms as she tried to rush by. "LET ME GO, LET ME GO!!" She screamed. The large man wrapped her in his strong arms. "No it's to dangerous, you can't help them!" He yelled in his thick accent, stroking her hair as she cried sobbingly into his chest. The other's Alyssa, Sarah, Jennifer and Winona, stood clutching the rail like statues disbelieving the event unfolding before them. One at a time they began to quietly weep. Heather spotted Steve coming down the trail, "STEVE!" She screamed. The man turned as Steve broke into a charge. The first two shots were fired in rapid succession, the first one winging his right arm, the second penetrating near the shoulder. Steve staggered sideways under the impact of the bullets. Jennie screamed, "NOOOOOOOOO!!!" The gunman fired again, the third bullet torn into the left side of Steve's chest. He went down on his knees, then flopped over onto his side. Steve recognized the pistol, it was a nickel plated snub nose .38 caliber revolver. He had fallen ten feet away from the assailant, the girls were another ten feet beyond him. The man walked over to Steve to see whom he had shot. He bent over for a close look, "Nobody." Then he turned back towards the girls, terrified their eyes soaked in tears they pleaded, for Steve's life. The man a tall thin goofy, looking fellow, with mousy blonde hair. As the man turned away Steve kicked out with his legs, striking him behind the knees. The man went down like a puppet, sprawled on his back. Steve tried to get up, raising himself on his good left arm. Jennie and Heather rushed forward, but not fast enough. The man sat up and pointed the gun at them, they backed off a few feet away from Steve. The man stood up, watching the girls he moved back a bit so he could see Steve, "Asshole! Mind your own fucking business!" He yelled. Then he shot Steve in the leg, the first one missed so he fired again. The bullet ripped into Steve's upper thigh. Steve screamed some expletive, which the author feels is too foul to repeat here. The girls screamed something even worst. Steve thought how many shots did he fire? Was it five or six? In all the excitement, he kind of forgot. (Apologies to Dirty Harry) The man turned quickly pointing the gun at Jennie and Heather. Steve slumped back down to the ground, the loss of blood sapping his strength. The girls were screaming at the lone gunman hysterically now, their makeup running black lines down their faces. The crowd on the balcony watched in horror, as man aimed the pistol at their two helpless colleagues. The girls clung to each other like frightened orphans. "I just wanted you to like me!" the distraught man yelled as them. "Now look what you've made me do! We could have been friends, instead you betrayed me. You're whores nothing but high priced whores. Slutting yourselves on TV night after night, teasing me with secret messages, taunting me! You don't deserve my worship, now you'll pay both of you!" Steve closed his eyes and began to pray, if he was going to die what was about to happen was not the last thing he wanted to see.

(ff,mf,mff,mf,mf,)

Part 8 - 3/3

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/16967.txt

Vickie Tern

JayCee

"I use my juice for me," I said with finality. "You've got a mouth, Ronnie. Take care of your own needs! Petey'll do the same for you afterward, blow job for blow job, won't you Petey?" I flashed him a smile to keep him encouraged, didn't even glance at Petey, then turned and sat down again to watch. Can you imagine? I was only fourteen then! And sure enough, Ronnie looked at Petey, and Petey nodded, a little overwhelmed by all this wheeling and dealing. So Ronnie dropped to his knees in front of Petey and took Petey's little cock into his mouth. He gave it just a few licks all over to coat it with thick saliva, and only a few sucks and strokes up and down with his lips to spread the slick stuff around, but it was enough for Petey to forget himself, and stiffen up all the way, and then to start fucking his friend's face. I was ecstatic! Here before my eyes was a boy I'd turned into a genuine cock sucker, home-made, my very first! I wished I had a camera. Petey's cock grew as swollen as it would ever get, sliding in the warm moisture of Ronnie's mouth, and his face again took on a glazed look. But Ronnie took no chances. He stopped suddenly, then got down on his hands and knees and lowered his head and chest onto a towel on the ground, with his butt way up in the air. Petey mounted him doggy style, spread his cheeks, felt for his asshole, and pushed at him a few times with that stubby cock. At first all he did was shove Ron forward. But I could tell when he finally managed to get it into Ron, because on that stroke, the third or the fourth, instead of lurching forward when Petey's cock shoved on him Ron's body held steady. In fact Ronnie wriggled and snuggled back, and then Petey really began fucking him! Ronnie was now genuinely queer at both ends! I felt like a Maestro conducting an orchestra! A few more lunges, and then Petey was sprawled onto Ronnie, hugging him tight and squeezing his belly against his ass, and shouting "Hah! Hah! Hah!" Each shout another spurt of semen squirting into Ronnie's guts! Then Pete softened and flopped out of Ronnie's ass almost at once, leaving behind a trail of oozing cum. Petey may have been small, but he had semen to spare. Ronnie's asshole was filled to the brim and running over. I bet he'll still be leaking tonight, I thought to myself idly. I'll try to remember to lend him a tampon before he goes home, or his folks'll ask about the stain on his bathing suit. I wondered if he'd want to fuck himself with the tampon while putting it in, now he'd had a taste of it, the way I sometimes do. He would if I told him to. Maybe he would for no reason at all. I caught a glimpse of Petey's softened cock, and marveled that anything that small had even gotten past Ron's ass cheeks. But he'd done it! They both stood up. Pete's cum leaked down Ron's legs and glistened in his crack, and Pete looked like any boy who's just blown his wad, complacent and a little arrogant. Ron looked disturbed. I knew why, of course. He did feel more like a girl than he'd meant to feel, now he'd been irrevocably fucked by a stiff prick up the ass. But he wasn't a girl. Not with that cock, he wasn't. And he still hadn't managed to cum yet himself. It was time. "Sit here under the umbrella, Little Peter," I said to him. "I'll give Ronnie back to you so you can be his girl next time, now that he's yours. Put your bathing suit back on now. If you can't find it I'll lend you some panties to wear home." I don't know, I suppose I was just teasing these would-be macho studs who'd come by my house cocksure that any girl's swimming pool was theirs for the asking. But Pete turned bright red, and when I looked I saw Ron was red too. Well, well! A discovery of some kind! Had they done each other previously, or dreamed of it, these buddies? Had they just now been girls in their own minds, while they jerked each other off with such loving affection? Had I just ordered them to enact a really secret desire? Maybe that's how boys use each other sexually and yet keep their self-respect, by pretending one of them at least is a girl. Were guys so ashamed to do it with other guys that they'd rather pretend they're the other sex, to avoid thinking they must be gay? Do gays do that too, pretend they're girls when they're really only guys who prefer each other? All interesting to look into later, but I said nothing. Pete put on his bathing suit and sat down without another word. Well, this time I let Ron lubricate himself on the outside of my pussy. It was my ass, after all. "Now go easy," I said to him. "Remember how Little Petey felt in you when he was moving in and out of your ass? Did he stretch you out first, and then feel real good? Delicious? Yummy? Could you feel his cock pulse when he came, and did his cum feel hot when it splashed inside you? At that moment did you think to yourself, now at last I'm a real woman? Remember that my ass isn't slippery like yours is right now with that cum leaking all over, so go slow!" Then I got down the way he'd done it, and let him slowly push that long cock of his into my rear, a little at a time. I instructed him inch by inch, like a steelworker signalling how to work a girder into position. It took a while. This was only my second ass-fuck, so mainly I was comparing it to my first, to see what new sensations were available -- I don't like expecting something and ending up disappointed. Well, Ron's cock was really huge compared to my cousin's, and it did feel tremendous when he finally got it all in. I felt full. Complete. It's nice, something that swollen way down deep inside you, I decided. School would begin again before too long, and this was something I could use to reward boys who were especially obedient, or as they liked to think of it, especially gentlemanly and courteous with me. I'd let them put their most prized possession into my shithole. But that was the best of it. Ron began thrusting, and it seemed to me that each stroke in and out was like a slow commute to the suburbs and then back into the city. Each one took a while, and together they got repetitious. He pumped me, and my mind drifted to the magazine I'd been flipping through a couple of hours earlier, when the two of them first came by looking for a free ride and I'd taken them for one. For sure, from now on, I decided, whoever's doing my ass will at least diddle my clit at the same time, unless they've gotten me excited some other way. If he isn't Mr. Right. When finally Ron came I let him stay in me a minute longer, and then I wriggled out from under him. He looked so grateful I almost laughed. But instead I turned and kissed him on the cheek, thanked him, and told him that now he was my favorite stud as well as my favorite girlfriend. Then I asked him to let me know the next time he and Petey jerk each other off or fuck each other, because I'd enjoy knowing I was the one who'd helped them find themselves. That reminded Ronnie. He stood up and went over to where Petey was sitting and watching the two of us. His cock was still half-engorged, and still slick with semen and who knows what from my bowels. He walked over where Petey was sitting and just stood there with it touching Petey's nose, and didn't say a word. Feeling macho? Too embarrassed to ask? But after only a second's hesitation Petey took it into his hand, then dropped his mouth onto the big purple knob and plunged his head all the way down onto it. All the way down! It swelled up full even as I watched, and then disappeared down Petey's throat! Petey bobbed his head up and down on it several times! Had I discovered something about their relationship they'd rather have kept to themselves?Had Petey done this before? He took in Ron's cock like a master sword swallower! Ronnie then leaned back slightly with his hands on his hips, and Little Petey dropped his hands to his sides, headfucking Ron unassisted in long, easy, comfortable strokes. Then Ron grunted, clasped Petey's head tight to his crotch, squirted his load straight down his throat, and reached over and lifted Petey's head off his cock by both ears. When they left, I told them I'd love to have a picture of Petey sucking on Ronnie as a souvenir of the afternoon, and Ron nodded his agreement absent-mindedly while looking for one of his sandals. Apparently, nothing even to think about. So maybe I was right about them. They may or may not have done it before, but they surely were going to do it again. Ronnie would see to that. A few days later, three Polaroid pictures arrived in the mail: Little Peter cocksucking Big Ron the way I'd seen, and another of Petey grinning at the camera while wiping a blob of cloudy glop off his lips, and last of all the two of them blowing each other in a classic 69. On the back of that last one was written "Here's how we learned to swim at your place!" These were pictures with their faces fully visible! Talk about trust? The next three or four times they got together to do each other, they phoned to tell me. I congratulated them each time and wished them a long and happy life together. They often invited me to come watch once they were well into it, and I took them up on it just often enough to keep them eager to see me. They liked doing whatever I told them, and I never ever had to remind them about the pictures they'd sent me. I sent them on lots of little missions to keep them busy and happy. For example, it turned out after a while that they weren't really girlish, they were gay. They even preferred sex with each other dressed normal, like guys. Even so, I made Ron buy Petey a full girl's outfit from K-Mart, from a bra on out, one item each day, the two of them livid with embarrassment each time Ron had to ask the salesgirl if Petey could use a changing room to try the item on. I told Petey to dress up for Ron for a big date out at least once a month. And to wear makeup, and to make himself as pretty as he could. And to send me a picture now and then of Ron lifting his skirt to ream him in the rear. During the next year, those pictures got more and more elaborate as Petey got more and more into dressing up and spent more money on costumes. He turned out to be a real Drag Queen, no mistake about it, a real contest-winner. Of course, other kids at school caught on in no time at all. The two of them got careless, and sometimes they were seen holding hands, and there was talk. The clincher came when they were seen together in a pizza parlor on the other side of town, Petey dressed like a girl, though in bad taste, another girl told me. Well, I'd seen that outfit and thought he looked rather cute in it, a low-neck peasant blouse and a teeny denim mini-skirt, with sort of clunky shoes and big bold eye makeup. I liked it on him. Anyhow, after that, girls lost interest in dating them, though some girls felt especially comfortable with them and invited them to slumber parties, and gave them advice how to use makeup with more restraint, and asked them how it felt, doing each other. Girls are curious about things like that. Boys wanted no part of them, of course, and called them all the usual names. So they got more and more dependent on each other for their social lives, and by the end of the year, they were living practically in each others' pockets. Petey's parents caught on eventually, and when the school year ended, the family moved across the state to another town, so Petey could get a fresh start. But by then, he didn't want one. Petey soon found some new boyfriends, and Ron knew where he lived, and they visited each other now and then. I dated lots of guys the next few years. A girl with my kind of self-confidence who isn't afraid to tell boys what to do attracts certain kinds of boys. I'd let them do my homework for me if they were smart enough, or drive me to school mornings, and I'd reward them by letting them perform little services for me. They got to be known as "JayCee's nursery school," and it turned out they were real popular with other girls when I was finished with them. They had all kinds of special skills. The jocks took me on as a personal challenge, and of course, got nowhere. None of them ever got into my pussy, because I was still saving it for the boy I would one day marry, I told them. Also because they were boastful adolescents who still thought a fuck was a conquest, even the smart ones. It was easy to outthink them. They were never sincere with me, so I saw no reason to be sincere with them when I put them through hoops. The other boys at our high school all knew that my pussy was out of bounds except to their mouths. But they knew I expected that much lip service from them at least, and they looked forward to offering it. They knew that if I really liked them, or if I was in just the right mood, or if I wanted something special from them, they knew that I might even use my mouth on them too, to help persuade them to do whatever it was I wanted. And they knew that if they were really attentive and submissive and grateful and courteous, and if I was especially turned on, and if they were willing to do certain especially humiliating things while I watched, they knew I might actually allow them to fuck my ass, enter me near that sacred place where my eventual husband's semen would eventually unite with my own eventual egg. Knowing all these things, they'd all try extra hard to please me as soon as their faces got down to business. I had no complaints, and I heard none. Ron never got into my ass again -- despite its size, his cock was just plain boring, and it turned out to be mutual, because he'd discovered girls just didn't interest him. He liked Petey and a few other boys he hung out with, and that was it. He'd let me put my legs on his shoulders when I wasn't going with anyone else and wanted someone down there, though he confessed once that he did it only because I asked him. In return, I let him use our swimming pool without his ever having to ask. Oh yes, I also got good grades in school, very good grades, though that was never what school was really about as far as I was concerned. So along came that summer when I was nearly seventeen, and had half the boys in my class, practically, under my pussy or my thumb. But that summer, nearly every boy I knew left town. They went to be camp counselors, or for sports training, or to learn mountain climbing, what they called "Leadership School." What a joke! Some wimp hangs from a rope between some rock and nowhere, and that's how he learns how to be a leader. Really! Any girl who can't get a guy to do that any time she wants ought to turn in her tits. Anyhow, some guys went out of town because there weren't too many summer jobs that year, or else they were farmed out to relatives in other cities to broaden their experience. Ronnie talked his parents into letting him spend part of the summer with an Uncle who lives in Provincetown, on Cape Cod, and then talked Petey's parents into letting Petey go there too. Some families moved out of town, the way families do. It's sad when that happens, just before a kid finally gets to be a Senior in High School and can do anything. But it happens. It also happens that families move in. In fact, it happened just down the street from us. Right after school ended, I noticed how dull everything got suddenly, how the place emptied out. There were still a few guys around, of course, not my usual crowd, though you make do with what you've got. I almost took up my mother's idea I should find summer work of some kind to earn money for college. In fact, that's what my family still thinks I did do, that that's where I got all that money I saved up that summer, that that's how I won that whopping scholarship that's paid my way through college mostly. I guess in a way I did find summer work. For sure I found what I wanted to do when I graduated. This new family that moved in down the street a block away wasn't really a family. Just two people, a mother and a son. The day the movers came, I saw him outside cutting the grass. He looked to be about my age, a little taller but not much, and real thin, though it was hard to tell from a distance because he favored loose clothes. He had long hair worn straight and loose the way all the guys did that year, when only geeks wore pony tails. A girl's hair that year had to be long too, but mainly it had to be as crimped and curly as rollers and hot irons and drug store permanent waves could get it. Slaves to fashion, that's what we all are, all of us. The guys too. But this guy checked out OK on that score. My mother went over with a tray of sandwiches the day they moved in and stayed about an hour. "Nice people," she reported to my father and me at dinner. "At least she's very nice. Jane is her name. She runs some kind of merchandising by mail thing, and is very successful at it to judge by the furniture and china they've got. Spode, service for twelve, she was unpacking and putting away -- beautiful -- it must be priceless! I don't know why she didn't buy a bigger house on the other side of town, but she says this one is ample for the two of them, and she likes the location. She was divorced when her son was just starting kindergarten, she tells me -- her husband ran off, or ran off once too often, or something. The boy seems a little quiet, maybe even shy, but he's very polite, very well brought up. He'll be a Senior when school begins again, same as you, JayCee.I told them you'd come over some time and introduce yourself, and maybe show him around a little, where you kids hang out, things like that. With school out and so many families away, he's got no way to meet people his own age. His name's Marion. I didn't say anything. My Mom was always trying to fix me up with boys she thought she could trust, our cousins for example, which is how my ass lost its cherry and my Uncle lost his baseball. Or with boys from families that belong to our church -- she thinks they're respectable because they call her "ma'am." I tell her they're the worst, because by the time she quits talking me up they think she's already guaranteed them a piece of my ass, and they expect me to hand them the rest on a platter. That's why so often I hand them their own asses, not always as nicely as I did it that time with Ronnie and Petey. I stay away from polite creeps. They're the worst. What I was actually thinking was, with a name like 'Marion' this kid better be a fighter, with a nickname like "Spike" or "Crusher," something to slow the guys down when they want to lean on him a little. Polite won't cut it. Boys like to push each other. Nice boys in our neighborhood don't stay that way. Anyhow, a week later I happened to be out front getting ready to visit my friend Marcie, when I saw this Marion kid coming down the sidewalk toward me wearing his oversized shirt and baggy pants, carrying a plastic bag from that drugstore in the mall on the highway two blocks south of us. Sort of hip-hop, his clothes, I saw, acceptable enough, big, everything out and hanging loose. I checked myself. Just the reverse -- real tight jeans and a black stretch sleeveless pullover with a turtleneck, no bra, fresh lipstick I'd just put on to show Marcie the shade I think goes with a jumper she just bought. My hair up in the Betty Grable forties look I'm trying out. I'm OK, I decided. If I smile at him he'll fall over. So I crouched down pretending to do something with a flower bed alongside the sidewalk, and when he got nearer I wiggled my tail at him a little. Looking him over sideways, I could see he was trying hard not to notice me, the way polite boys do, but he couldn't help himself. Then when he was just about to pass by I suddenly stood up in front of him and faced him down and smiled. I gave him both barrels at close range. I can be devastating when I want to be, and I can be mean, too, and sometimes it's the same thing. I didn't know which it was yet myself, in this case. He stopped walking as if he'd hit a wall, and then he stared at me with no change of expression. "Hi!" I said brightly. "I'm JayCee, the girl who lives here? My mother was over to your house the other day, a week ago? When you were moving in, and she met you and your mother?" I saw he had huge almond-shaped eyes and long black lashes and high cheekbones. Close up he looked real cute! In fact he was a living doll! Stroke him the right way, and he'll purr like a cat I'll bet. Or a tiger. He might be worth getting to know after all! He smiled just a bit, a little nervous, and he passed the bag he was carrying over to his other hand, then half-hid it behind his leg. I'd already seen through the plastic that it had some big bottles of pills, and a big blue and purple package with "Kotex OverNite Maxi Pads" in white letters. No mystery -- he was on an errand for his mother. But at his age mothers can seem an embarrassment. "Sure," he said. "JayCee. Your mother said you might be coming by real soon. I'm pleased to meet you." "I'll walk you," I said. "Then I'll have come by." No sense letting anyone get any advantage over you, any time. I started down the sidewalk. But he kept standing there, so I stopped and looked back at him over my shoulder, and I gave him my slow steady inquiring look with one eyebrow raised real high. I once turned two football players into drooling mush with that look. "No, I didn't mean that," he said, now altogether flustered. "I mean I'm very pleased to meet you. I was looking forward to it." Now he clutched his shopping bag in front of him with both hands. I realized that he was one of those boys who have a hard time speaking to girls, a late bloomer or something. He wasn't just jockeying for position when he'd said that about me supposed to come by and I didn't, trying to hang a guilt trip on me. He'd said it because that was all he could think to say. He understood that I misunderstood him and that I was miffed, and now he was trying to apologize and be nice! Now that was something! The other boys I knew wouldn't have had a clue to anything that had already happened in this little conversation, and if they could have figured it out they couldn't have cared less! "Likewise," I said, and this time I gave him my special smile. Sincere. I really do have one, though there isn't much call for it. "I'll walk you. I'd like to." Should I tell him I've seen him cutting the grass? No, too relaxed and neighborly. Keep the initiative. Stay on him. "Your name's Marion, isn't it," I noted. He realized he'd forgotten to say so, and felt further disadvantaged, which was my intention. "Yes," he said. "'Marion' spelled with an 'O.' That was John Wayne's name, too, before he was John Wayne." The poor boy was belly up! So sensitive about having a name that sounds like a girl's that he had a canned speech prepared to prove he's really a man's man like John Wayne. Who'd doubted it? Obviously he was first in line! I decided to keep after him. "Marion with an 'O," I said. "That's pronounced 'Marianne,' right? Then you won't mind if I call you 'Marianne'? 'Mary' for short, maybe?" Then the clincher so he wouldn't dare object. "It sounds more friendly that way. You don't mind, do you?" Now let him hang himself. What's in a name? He surrendered. "No, not at all," he said. "Whatever you like." I had him. He was outclassed. But he *knew* he was outclassed, and that showed more intelligence than ever glimmered in any of the boys I knew. I decided that I liked him. Maybe I should have come by after all? I decided that this could be a prize fish, so I should reel him in. Keep up the pressure so he won't throw the hook. "Mary," I said to him, taking his arm real comfy, so he'd know I wasn't being sarcastic or threatening, but also so he wouldn't spook and run off, "Why did you buy Kotex at the mall? Are you having your period now?" I hung on tight until he could get a grip on himself. Now his doll face was bright red. "Oh, JayCee," he said finally. "Quit teasing me, OK?" Terrific! I loved it! He respected himself after all! He didn't fall all over himself to explain the obvious, that it was for his mother. He was uneasy about his name, but he didn't feel totally apologetic about everything, as if everyone's opinion but his own mattered. He knew I was mocking and testing him, maybe even insulting him, but he took off the edge by calling it teasing. And it worked! All of a sudden, I'd only been teasing him, in a friendly way, the way girls do when they meet an interesting guy. I liked that. I squeezed his arm to tell him, and I knew he knew that too. His blush faded, not altogether. "OK, Marianne," I said. No reason to back off just because I was beginning to like him. "Deal!" "What're the pills?" I asked him, now just making conversation. We were only about halfway to his house from mine. "Vitamins," he said. "I had asthma and such when I was little, and I took a lot of pills. Now my mother feels better when I take them." "Prescription vitamins? Let's see!" I could see the typed RX labels through the translucent plastic bag, so I reached over and took the bag from him before he could pull back and be embarrassed into playing tug of war, and I reached in and started reading the bottles. They had his mother's name on them, not his. "These pills are for your mother too," I said, to put my Kotex taunt behind us once and for all. "She's got the health insurance policy," he said, "So she gets the prescriptions, even the ones for me." Was he kidding me now? About asthma and vitamin pills? I could read, and I saw that these were birth control pills. Female hormones of some kind. One was "Estynil Estradiol" and the other was "Progesterone." The same stuff the doctor started me on last year, to make my period more regular, and as Mom said, to forestall any little problems. Only mine come in a cute little pill wheel inside a compact, so I won't forget to take one each day, or forget which one. And mine are a lot smaller. These were big pills, like the kind my Mom started taking after her hysterectomy, massive doses of female hormones to keep her in womanly trim. I checked again in the bag. It was Kotex all right. No hysterectomy. A mystery. I decided he was kidding me but wasn't very good at it. "Well, here we are, Mary," I said. We stopped for a moment on the sidewalk in front of his house. And I added sincerely, because he needed all the encouragement he could get, obviously, "It's nice that we live near each other, Marianne." He smiled. "I like you. You stop by. We have a pool." He hesitated, and then asked if I'd like to come in and meet his mother. Meaning he wanted me to meet her. Meaning, he really liked me too. He led the way into the kitchen, and there she was standing by the window, cutting vegetables.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/7440.txt

Mary Jorsay Gandmar

PENTAPRISM 3 : THE HEART OF A WHORE

"Come on, Baban... lick my slit... fuck me with your tongue!" The teenager's voice was husky and sibilant, deeply erotic. The darkly handsome, hard-bodied youth smiled down at the lovely, dusky seventeen-year-old girl sprawled wantonly before him. Her body was luscious, already ripened into womanhood, with large breasts and flared hips. Her belly was firm and flat, her arms and legs smooth and slender. Her face was sensuous, slightly heavy-lipped and fleshy-nosed, but sexy all the same. Her eyes were large and dark, rimmed with *kajal*, and her hair was thick and long, twisted into a long braid. Baban liked his women earthy and sensual. The young servant smiled and thrust his face into her crotch. Anuja gasped softly and arched her back in pleasure. His tongue rippled down her sodden cunt-lips and through moist flesh within. It felt wonderful. Anuja spread her legs still wider and gripped his head in her crotch, her hips raised high. His tongue swirled through her cunt-flesh and flickered against her gorged clitoris. She moaned softly. He slid his hands up to her turgid breasts and squeezed them, pinching her rigid nipples. Anuja sighed in pleasure, writhing on the bed. His tongue jabbed into her cunt and she gasped loudly, arching her back. "Oh! Oh! Oh yes! Yes! Oh! Unhhh! Oh!" Her face flipped languorously from side to side, her lips parted in a gentle 'O' of pleasure. Her body jerked back and forth on the bed as though she was being fucked, and her large breasts jiggled erotically. She squeezed them in rising excitement, moaning with pleasure. Three months earlier, a virgin then, she offered herself to Baban on a hot afternoon when she was alone at home. Her father was at work, and her mother was at a ladies' luncheon. Anuja was feeling sexy and she lay in bed, masturbating gently and unhurriedly with a large, long white radish. She slid the vegetable gently in and out of her cunt and wondered what it would feel like to have a real penis in her flesh. If only there was a man available... The realization hit her suddenly and she stopped. Baban. Of course. Baban was available. He was in the house, and they were alone. Anuja's pulse quickened. For a second, she hesitated, pondering the risks and the consequences if they were caught. But her sexuality would not be denied. It was high time she had a lover. And Baban had entered her fantasies frequently. Anuja's knowledge of sex came from biology textbooks and her father's sex manuals she read surreptitiously when her parents were out of the house. Since fourteen, when she discovered her sexuality, she had experimented with herself, masturbating daily, often several times a day, with a number of household objects: hairbrushes, toothbrushes, bananas, vegetables -- cucumbers, gourds, the long white radishes -- the handles of the wooden clothes-paddle handle and her tennis racquets; anything served. She had a vivid imagination and fantasized constantly. No matter how often she masturbated, it was never enough; the sense of dissatisfaction persisted. She longed for the real thing. Abandoning the radish, her heart racing with excitement, Anuja got up. She knotted her hair quickly behind her head and, for a second, debated what to wear. Looking around, she spotted her tennis gear, and grinned in delight. Quickly, she slipped into her white cotton T-shirt and short tennis skirt, deliberately abjuring all underwear. She braided her hair and, holding her shoes in one hand, her racquets in the other, she twirled before her full-length mirror. The T-shirt was translucent and her breasts and nipples and aureoles were clearly visible. Her breasts bounced as she moved and she thought it very erotic. Bending over, she smiled at her reflection as she saw her skirt slide up her thighs and reveal her buttocks and naked cunt beneath. Perfect. Baban would not be able to resist her. He was in the hall, sweeping the floor on his haunches when she entered and dumped her sports bag on the sofa seat. For a moment, she looked at him with a rush of pleasure. He moved smoothly and easily in the difficult position, crabbing across the floor, the muscles rippling in his thighs and shoulders. He wore a tight white vest and baggy shorts. He looked up at her and she saw the swift intake of breath. "I'm going to the club. Tennis," she murmured, eyeing him lasciviously. He stared at her and nodded slowly. She turned her back and bent forward at the waist over the back of the couch to pick up her bag, her feet spread apart. Her skirt slid up, high over her hips and she heard him gasp when he saw her naked buttocks and thighs, the puckered darkness of her anus, the bewitching fuzz of her cunt. With her legs spread, her cunt-lips opened slightly and he could even see the tender flesh within. She paused for the merest fraction of a second, letting him have a good look. The swish of his broom stopped. There was utter silence. The broom clattered to the floor. Anuja didn't move. Suddenly, she gasped. Baban's hands slid up her legs and over her buttocks. She wanted to turn and look at him, but held herself back. A soft rustle, a snap and then she bit her lower lip and felt dizzy with excitement. A thick, long, hard thing was pressing between her buttocks and thighs, moving to her cunt. His cock! Anuja had never seen a real cock before. She tensed. The heat was intense and overpowering. It pressed to her cunt-lips. His hands pushed her T-shirt up under her arms and roved over her breasts. They were hard and swollen with excitement, her nipples erect. She held still. And then the heat of his cock burst into her cunt and she cried out, her head snapping up, her face contorting in an explosion of pleasure. His penis surged powerfully into her flesh and his fingers crushed her breasts. Anuja dug her fingers into the upholstery and moaned, her head jerking up, her mouth opening in a wide 'O' of lust. She did not tell him it was her first time. Her head swam with excitement. She was being laid! At last, she was being fucked! The young servant flexed his buttocks and his hot, hard penis drove deeper into her cunt. Anuja gasped and cried out, her cunt contracting and convulsing frantically on his penis. Baban groaned in excitement. "Oh fuck yes!" he gasped softly. "Oh yes! Oh god yes!" The servant fucked her hungrily, rapidly, hard. He pushed his cock deeper and deeper into her cunt and then began to rock his hips swiftly, running it greedily in and out of her flesh. Anuja gasped and cried out, rocking back and forth under him. His cock felt wonderful, better than she had imagined. It was hot and hard and it mashed her gorged clitoris in its passage. Faster and faster he went, plunging into her sodden cunt-flesh. Anuja began to orgasm helplessly. Baban gasped, flinging his head back, holding her hips and jerking her cunt up and down on his shaft, squeezing her swinging, swollen breasts feverishly. His cries rang in her ears. "Oh yes... come on Anu, take it! Take my cock! Come on... Oh yes!" The vulgarities aroused her and she whimpered in pleasure and rocked back and forth under his thrusts, her swollen breasts jiggling, her gold necklace swinging against her chin. His thighs slapped softly at her buttocks as the swollen penis sawed rhythmically in and out of her flesh. On and on he went, driving his penis in and out of her cunt, his thighs pummeling her buttocks, his buttocks flexing and unflexing, his hips swinging and rocking back and forth, his cock plunging in and out of her cunt, appearing and disappearing between the sweet curves of her buttocks. At last, moaning, Baban lost control. He drove deep into her with a rasping cry, ramming himself into her flesh, making her cry out and then, buried deep in her spasming cunt-flesh, his buttocks twitching and flexed taut, his cock throbbing furiously, he came. Anuja moaned in joy as she felt the sharp sting of his spoot in her cunt-flesh.Baban groaned and emptied himself, jet after jet of jizz spurting into her hot flesh. Slowly, he eased himself out of her. Anuja stayed bent over, panting and gasping with excitement, her body burning with lust. At last, she straightened and turned to face him. His face was grey with tension and nervousness, fear of the consequences of what he had done. Anuja smiled slowly, seductively and, stretching out her hand, pulled him to her. "Thank you," she murmured, her face close to his. "That was wonderful." Baban looked relieved. "There's something you should know," she said, her lips fluttering against his. "That was my first time. I've never been fucked before." Baban's eyes widened in surprise and disbelief. "Really," she smiled. "It was. I just know about it, and I've wanted it, and I've been masturbating, so I knew what to expect, but it was my first time even so." Baban's eyes were full of wonder and surprise. "It is wrong," he said softly. "You were wonderful -- but it is wrong." "Why?" He smiled. "The first time should have been different, special," he said. "Not like this. Forgive me, please." Anuja kissed him gently. "Don't say that," she murmured. "It was very good for me." He shook his head and, sliding his hands up her T-shirt to cup her breasts, found her nipples still hard with excitement. He kissed her slowly, his tongue slipping between her lips. Anuja's tongue met his and their kiss deepened and she squirmed erotically against him. "I want you," she gasped. "I want you again." "Let me fuck you properly this time. As it should be." Anuja smiled, her eyes dancing with excitement. "Yes," she breathed. "Fuck me, Baban." "Like a whore. Say it." "God, yes. Fuck me ... fuck me like a whore, Baban!" He laughed, his eyes sparkling with pleasure. They moved to the living room, and, on the soft Persian rug in the centre of the room, for the next hour or more, Baban fucked Anuja slowly and relentlessly, taking her repeatedly, forcing her from one orgasm to another. It was the most wonderful time she had known. Baban was an experienced, adroit lover and a good teacher. Anuja orgasmed more often than she could remember as he fucked her mouth, her breasts, and her cunt repeatedly in a variety of positions. When he licked her slit, she went wild with excitement, gasping and thrashing and writhing, crushing her breasts erotically, her body jerking and lurching as though under a man's thrusts. Anuja couldn't get enough of it. When he stopped, she groaned and flung herself at him, burying her face in his crotch, sucking his cock furiously. He groaned and exploded in her face, making her moan as the hot seed splashed into her mouth and over her face and breasts. Then he fucked her again, and yet again. Finally, fucking her slowly and deeply on her back on the living room floor, his penis gliding gently in and out of her cunt, then going faster and faster and faster till he was ramming and reaming violently in and out of her flesh. Anuja responded like a thoroughbred, with a natural instinct and arched in joy when he came at last, his head snapping back, his penis buried deep in her flesh, spurting heat into her cunt. For the next two months, they fucked at least once a day, whenever they could. He coached her gently. Intelligent, sensitive and imaginative, she learned well and soon reached the stage where she could push him to his limits. Baban loved her passionately. Anuja never tired of his companionship, and cherished the long afternoons when they could be together, exploring each other's bodies in every conceivable way, constantly searching for new heights of pleasure. He taught her to enjoy sodomy and, willing pupil that she was, Anuja did not hesitate. The first butt-fuck was exquisite, an erotic, heady mixture of sharp pain that dwindled in seconds to be replaced with intense, dizzying pleasure. She loved it and, after that, insisted on it every time he fucked her. Now Baban lifted his head from her crotch and smiled as she moaned softly in pleasure. She looked lovely, naked except for her gold necklace, bangles, earrings, finger-rings and the small stud in her left nostril. Very sexy. He rose to his knees and she turned around and pushed her face between his thighs and began sucking his penis greedily. He grunted in pleasure and fucked her face unhurriedly, moving her head back and forth with one hand, pumping his hips. "Mmmm ... yes ... take it ... that's nice ... suck it, Anu-bitch ... suck it ... yeh ... like that ... Ohhh yes ... suck it harder, whore ... come on!" Anuja loved the dirty talk. It turned her on. She sucked her servant's penis harder, using her tongue on the cock-head adroitly, relishing the musky odour and tang of his pre-cum gunk. He flung his head back and moaned softly, his cock spurting beads of pre-cum jizz and, smiling happily, she licked and swallowed them. He groaned and rocked her head between his legs, fucking her face with immense pleasure. His cock filled her mouth and distended her face. She swirled her tongue cunningly around the cock-head in her mouth. He pushed her head away after several minutes. They fucked slowly. She went down on her back and, leaning over her, he squeezed his penis slowly into her body. Anuja murmured in pleasure, arching under him, caressing his bulging biceps and taut, flexing buttocks as he pumped his hips rhythmically up and down. He kissed her gently, his tongue slithering between her lips. "Hey, whore," he murmured, his tongue in her ear. "Mm, what?" Anuja craned her neck and sucked gently on his dark nipple. "Want some excitement?" "This is exciting." "More exciting." "Like what?" "Like fucking some of my friends." She stopped moving under him and looked at him silently. "What did you say?" "My mates. They want to fuck you, too." "You've ... you've told them about us?" "Of course." She smiled suddenly, her eyes dancing with excitement at the prospect, imagining what it would be like to have strangers using her body. "Would you like me to?" "Yeah." "Are they as sexy as you?" "Sexier." "Bigger cocks?" "And better. Hot studs." "How many?" He grinned. "Three, maybe four. You could fuck a couple of guys together. That's good to watch." "Together?" "Yeah. In your cunt and mouth. Even, maybe, your cunt and ass?" "Together?" she gasped. "At the same time?" "Sure, why not? You can do it and the broads all say it feels great, having two cocks like sawing in and out of your cunt and ass all at once." "Oh god, Baban!" Anuja moaned. "What say, bitch? You game?" She grinned, her eyes dancing, and, stopping him, rolled him over onto his back and straddled his hips, her cunt impaled on his penis. She bent and kissed him, her tongue deep in his mouth, her breasts hot on his chest. "Yes," she said. "Call them. I'll fuck them all." The next afternoon, Anuja's delight was beyond imagination. Baban brought up four friends, two servants, a chauffeur and a cook. They were all handsome, virile youths with hard bodies and satisfyingly large penises. The chauffeur was Anand, the cook Ratanlal. Hemant and Laxman were the two servants. Anuja was wearing a long transparent white kurta and matching salvar. Under it, she wore only a tight, small bra that barely covered her nipples and nothing else. The kurta was cut tight and close and her breasts strained at the material. Her nipples and the dark aureoles were clearly visible. Between her thighs, the dark shadow of her crotch tempted the men's hungry eyes. They gathered in the living room and Anuja felt a twinge of anxiety. She looked uncertainly at Baban and he smiled reassuringly and introduced her to the men. Anuja nodded. There was a second's silence as each debated the next move. Baban came to the rescue. He pressed close behind her. Anuja stood still. His lips nuzzled the nape of her neck. Her eyes fluttered and her head arched. He slid his hands up from her waist to her breasts. Anuja's eyes fluttered shut. Slowly, Baban plucked open the buttons of her kurta, one by one, and drew it open. The four servants saw her breasts; one of them gasped softly. Baban's hands slid up to weigh her breasts and he squeezed them gently, caressing her nipples and aureoles. Her nipples stiffened in his fingers. Her lips fluttered open. Baban pushed his hands under her kurta's lower hem and tugged at the drawcord of her salvar. It rustled to her feet. He flipped the kurta up to her waist. Her cunt was exposed. Slowly, Baban drew the kurta off her head. She turned to him but he stopped her gently. "Not me," he murmured. "Not me. Them." He turned her around. Anuja looked at the servants with continuing trepidation. The driver, Anand, took the initiative and broke the ice. "You're very lovely," he smiled. "Very sexy. I want to fuck you." Anuja smiled in relief. He grinned gently and began to unbutton his shirt as he advanced towards her. Pausing before her, he opened his trousers and dropped them. Anuja looked down involuntarily, instinctively and gasped. His penis was enormous. Still limp, it was at least eight inches long and correspondingly thick. The men chuckled at her reaction. She looked at them, at Baban. "Are they all ... are they all like this?" "More or less," Baban said and the men laughed softly and began to undress. Looking at their hard, naked bodies, their muscular physiques and long, thick cocks, Anuja felt giddy with excitement. Anand smiled and stepped closer. Anuja looked at him and a slow smile spread across her pretty face. Gently, her hand slid up his hard, smooth, hairless torso, tracing the contours of his muscles and she bent her head forward and slowly wound her tongue around one nipple. Anand chuckled softly. Her hand crawled down his belly to his crotch and her fingers closed around the thick length of his penis. "I want you," she murmured.Anand's hands slid under her shoulders, and she shivered when he cupped her breasts. They were already turgid with excitement, the nipples stiff, the dark aureoles puckered. He squeezed both breasts, and Anuja moaned and sucked on one nipple, then the other. She moved her lips and tongue across his chest to the other nipple and then dragged her tongue downward, over his rock-hard belly. Her fingers worked his penis tenderly. Kneeling before the chauffeur, she moaned softly and dragged her tongue through his navel. He was a handsome, sexy man, tall and lean with a V-shaped torso, hairless and muscular. His shirt was open, and his trousers were puddled at his ankles. His penis was enormous, at least eight inches long and correspondingly thick with heavy, low balls. Groaning, Anuja caressed his cock and, dipping her head, dragged her tongue down the length of his shaft. Her hands slid up under her breasts, and she lifted them erotically. Rising slightly, she took his cock between her breasts, kissing and licking his belly sensuously. He groaned at the soft warmth of her breast-sheath. He could feel her hard nipples raking his shaft. He pushed her head down. Slowly lifting his cock, jerking it tenderly and deftly, she slipped back the foreskin, opened her mouth, and swirled her tongue over his cock-head. Anand gasped softly, and his belly rippled inward. "Ohhhhhh yes!" Anuja moaned deep in her throat, and her lips slid forward and encased his cock-head. Anand grunted and pushed his hips forward. His cock quivered, thickened, lengthened, hardened. Anuja sucked his cock in rising excitement. It was now almost ten inches long and two inches thick. She longed for it in her cunt. Her body rippled with desire. Her tongue ran around the cock-head, swirled over the knob, toyed with the long slit in its peak, her teeth scraped his shaft gently. Holding his cock and jerking it, she sucked harder, her head rocking back and forth between his thighs. Her mouth was moist and warm, and Anand gasped in pleasure at the insistent pressure. "Ohhhh fuck yes! Suck it! Suck my cock, bitch! C'mon ... yeh ... suck it, bitch ... suck my cock! C'mon, whore, do it!" he gasped, holding her head and moving it back and forth to suit his pleasure while he pumped his hips. After several minutes, he pushed her head away. Immediately another servant took his place, one of the servants, Laxman. His cock was already hard and satisfyingly long. Anuja moaned and started sucking it, feeling dizzy with excitement. After him, it was Hemant, the other servant, and, when she had done with him, it was the cook, Ratanlal. When finally he pushed her head away, Anuja moaned, her eyes glassy with excitement, caressing her breasts, waiting kneeling on the floor to obey their next command, to fulfill their next desire. Baban chuckled and stepped forward. "Now me," he smiled. "While Hemant licks your cunt. He's good at that. Loves eating pussy, right, stud?" "You bet!" the young servant exclaimed. Sitting on the sofa, Anuja sucked Baban's cock while Hemant knelt between her thighs and licked her slit. She gasped and moaned, writhing and lurching, and the others caressed her body together, fondling her breasts and face. Anuja thrilled at the attention. The knowledge that she had aroused all of them so intensely was itself erotic. Hemant was exceptionally good at licking slit. His tongue was thick and heavy and sharp and unbelievably agile. It swirled and rolled every which way in her sodden slit, now whipping her gorged clit, now pressing into the tender flesh, now gentle then fierce. Anuja moaned and gasped, her mouth filled with Baban's cock as she sucked it, her face turned to one side, her head rocking back and forth between his legs as he stood on the sofa seat. Her hips bucked and lurched. With one hand, she jerked Baban's cock, with the other, she caressed her breasts or Hemant's head. It moved between her thighs, and his tongue was relentless in her slit. Her belly rippled with excitement and lust. "Hey guys, enough. I want to fuck her," she heard Anand say. "C'mon, break it up." Baban and Hemant released her. Anand stood before her, and, moaning, she slipped off the sofa to her knees before him and took his cock in her mouth again, sucking feverishly. He fucked her mouth eagerly for several minutes and then pushed her back. Anuja went down on her back on the cool floor and, bending her knees, spread her legs wide open. She splayed her cunt-lips open with her fingers as Anand knelt between her thighs and leaned over on outstretched arms. "C'mon Anand ... fuck me ... fuck me slowly ... I want to feel it all ..." The chauffeur paused with his cock-head at her cunt-lips, and she smiled wantonly at him and, holding his shaft, guided him to her hole. "C'mon, lover ... shove it in ... slowly ..." His buttocks flexed slowly, and his hips dipped. The huge cock-head popped into her cunt. Anuja gasped and moaned, arching her back. "More!" she gasped. "Put it in! Come on!" Anand flexed his buttocks slowly tighter and pushed his hips forward. His penis surged into her clonic cunt, and she hissed in pleasure, arching her back more and more steeply as his cock slid into her cunt, going in further and further, tunneling and burrowing. In and in it went, and at last, she had it fully in her flesh, huge, hot, hard, throbbing. She gasped and moaned, her face radiant with excitement. "Oh fuck yes!" she gasped. "Oh god, your cock's so good! Fuck me, lover! Fuck me hard now! Fuck me like a whore!" Anand groaned, his buttocks flexed taut, his head arched back. Slowly, he slid his penis outward and then, with a shuddering moan, plunged into her. "OHHHHHHHHH! OHMAUNHHH OHHHHHH! OHH AHHHHN ... UNHHHHHHHD UNHHHH OHHHHH!" Anuja shrieked as the huge cock surged white-hot into her sodden cunt. He fucked her rapidly and hungrily, his hips rocking up and down, his powerful muscles corded, his buttocks flexing and unflexing. Anuja gasped and thrashed under him, her hips heaving upward to meet his in descent. Faster and faster he moved, gasping and groaning his pleasure. Her cunt convulsed and spasmed frantically on his penis. "Ohh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck yes, ohhh yeh, take it ... take it, whore, take it!" he gasped. He moved faster, thrusting and ramming and reaming greedily into her hot, wet cunt. Anuja's cries were sharp, staccato Oh's and Ah's of unbridled pleasure. Her body jerked and snapped under his thrusts, her swollen breasts jiggling and bouncing, the gold chain around her neck slithering this way and that. She squeezed her breasts in erotic excitement, pinching her nipples, her head flipping from side to side. Whimpering, she caressed his bulging biceps and deeply cleaved chest, gripped his buttocks, wrapped her legs around his rocking hips. He bent his head, and she smiled as his lips met hers. "Fuck, you're good," he gasped. "So are you, lover, so are you," she moaned, smiling and let him push his tongue into her mouth. On and on he went, his cock driving in and out of her cunt, appearing and disappearing between her cunt-lips. Gasping and crying out, she orgasmed, and as her cunt convulsed in a frenzy on his pistoning, throbbing penis, he slammed into her violently once, twice, three, four ... a dozen times, each piercing lunge driving the breath from her throat. Then, jerking deep into her, he came, and she hissed in pleasure, her arms above her head, hands clenching the feet of the coffee table, murmuring in joy as his thick, hot spoot shot and shot and shot. Anand groaned and slowly slid out of her cunt and rolled away. Anuja gasped, her chest heaving, panting with the exertion. A pair of hands squeezed her breasts, and she opened her eyes and saw the cook grinning down at her. "C'mon, whore ... on your front. I'll fuck you like a bitch." He turned her on her front, and she groaned and waited on all fours, her breasts swollen and pendulous. Kneeling behind her, the cook chuckled and slowly pushed his cock into her cunt. Anuja gasped, her head rising, her lips drawing back in a grimace of pleasure as the thick, long penis slid into her hot, wet, tight cunt. "Oh ma unhhh OHHHHHHH unhhh *hanh* uhhh OHHHHHH!" she cried. The cook groaned and, gripping her hips, began fucking her with long, smooth measured thrusts, pushing his cock in as deep as he could, jerking her body back and forth, dragging her cunt up and down the length of his inflamed penis. Anuja groaned and gasped, rocking and lurching back and forth on all fours under him. Her breasts jiggled and swung with his thrusts, and his thighs slapped loudly at her buttocks. He squeezed her breasts in excitement and began moving faster and deeper and harder, making her groan and cry out. She came violently, and, seconds later, groaning in pleasure, he buried himself in her cunt and exploded, making her moan thickly as the white-hot shards of his jizz stung her tingling, tender cunt-flesh. The two servants, Hemant and Laxman, were already jostling forward, each trying to elbow the other out of the way, squabbling for her flesh. As the cook slid out of her, chuckling and slapping her buttocks, Anuja looked at the two servants, their huge penises sawing the air as they moved forward. "For god's sake," she gasped. "You don't have to fight! You can both fuck me together!" Watching her, Baban laughed in pleasure. She was a natural, born to this, with an appetite for pleasure that was unmatched in his experience. He watched as she pulled Laxman to the floor and smoothly straddled his hips on her knees, engulfing his cock in her cunt. He gasped and arched under her, and she hissed in pleasure, her face creasing in a radiant, happy smile. "God, I love your cocks," she said. "Come here, you. I want to suck you." Hemant stood beside her, and she turned her face and began sucking his cock while she rocked slowly and unhurriedly up and down on Laxman's thick erection.The two servants gasped and groaned as they fucked her cunt and mouth together. Her breasts bounced and jiggled, and the servants' hands were all over them, squeezing, caressing, fondling. After several minutes, the two men swapped, and Anuja mounted Hemant with her back to him, rocking up and down on his cock while Laxman eagerly fucked her mouth, rocking her head back and forth in his hands. She loved having two men together. First, the two servants fucked her in her cunt and mouth together, then Baban and Anand had their chance. Anuja lost track of who was fucking her and in what orifice. At Baban's insistence, Anand fucked her cunt while Ratanlal sodomized her. It was the first time she'd been fucked in both cunt and ass simultaneously, and Anuja almost passed out with the intensity of the pleasure. She orgasmed repeatedly and wanted it again. Hemant and Laxman obliged, fucking her in her cunt and ass simultaneously again, lying on her side with Hemant driving his cock into her cunt while, lying behind her, Laxman plunged his cock in and out of her anus. Anuja's body writhed and thrashed between theirs, her cries sharp and shrill with excitement. When Baban suggested that she try three, Anuja was in no condition to refuse, and the men were exultant. They finished with Baban, Hemant, and Laxman fucking her all at once, in cunt, mouth, and ass, ramming their cocks greedily into her again and again. Anuja was exhausted when they finally stopped and left. Baban saw the guys out and returned. Anuja had left the hall. He heard her in the shower and went in. She smiled, and they kissed gently, tenderly, and her hands were already busy between his legs. "Did you enjoy that?" he murmured, kissing her. "Very much. I want to do it often. As often as I can." "Good. It was very sexy to watch." "Fuck me. I'm hot." "I want to fuck your ass." "Yes. Come on. Do it." She turned around and leaned on the wall, and Baban gripped her hips, parted her buttocks, and slowly shoved his cock into her tight anus with a shuddering moan. Anuja gasped and cried out, and her face turned to his under the hot spray, and he kissed her hard, thrusting his tongue into her mouth as he pushed his cock deeper and deeper into her anus. For the next few months, between leaving school and before colleges opened, Anuja continued her affair with Baban and his friends. They established a routine; most days, it was Baban or one of his friends. Her parents were in on weekends, and these were the 'dry' days. By Monday, Anuja was burning with lust, and, since these were the freest days, with her mother out to kitty parties that extended into the evening, Anuja made herself available to all the servants. Frequently, she had seven or eight callers. Her parents never knew. To them, she was still the innocent, wide-eyed child. They knew nothing of the gasping, panting woman who writhed and heaved eagerly every afternoon with the neighborhood servants.

PENTAPRISM : Chapter 3 : The Heart Of A Whore

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/7397.txt

Parker

Office Girl

"Please?" The blonde girl squirmed in her seat, a look of near panic on her face. "I have to go back to school." Carol Brookmere looked over, stern and unforgiving, at the younger woman who was sitting so uncomfortably in a chair to the front of the desk. "Miss Boyd," she said coldly, adjusting her small, metal-rimmed glasses, "you should have thought of that before you decided to steal from us." Her English accent, still noticeable despite the many years she had made America her home, gave a clipped, formal tone to her speech. "I told you I was sorry," Amanda whined. She dropped her eyes downward, unable to meet her boss's cool gaze. "I didn't think..." "Exactly," Miss Brookmere pronounced, rising from her chair. The small, grey-haired woman came around from behind the desk. "You didn't think. You didn't think how many people you would be hurting by selling the results of the mining reports. You didn't think of what it would do to the reputation of this company; it could ruin us. You're only here for the summer. It's just another step on your path to getting an MBA and a high-paying job back in the city. But most of all," she concluded, slapping her hand down on the top of her desk directly in front of the girl, "you didn't think you were going to get caught, did you?" The younger girl looked down, not answering. Miss Brookmere grabbed a handful of the student's curly, blonde hair and jerked her face upwards. "Did you?" she repeated. "N-no..." The reply was little more than a whisper; the twenty-year-old looked like she was about to burst into tears. "I..." "But you *were* caught. And that's a fact. Now you must pay the price. You must make amends." The older woman paused for a moment, as if to gather her thoughts. Absentmindedly, she pushed the glasses up on her nose. "I don't know what you were paid to steal the information..." The blonde girl tried to say something, but Miss Brookmere immediately cut her off. "... and I don't care. That doesn't matter now." The grey-haired woman walked back around behind the desk and picked up a folder. "I do know," she continued, "the value of the survey work the results of which you sold." Her thin lips curled downward in disgust at the word 'sold'. The folder was dropped to the desk. "Your options are simple. I'll repeat them: either you work off your debt - replacing the value of what you stole - or we call the police. Very simple indeed." She glared at the younger woman. "But you must decide." A moment of silence in the office. "Now." Miss Brookmere couldn't entirely keep a smile off her face as she watched the blonde girl bite her lower lip in indecision. She loved the way the girl's summer-blonde curls fell loose over her forehead, framing her fine, delicate features and setting off her wide, green eyes. Beautiful. She'd agree to stay, of course. They always did. Really, it was their own fault. No one forced them to accept the "bribe" from the company's competitors to sell confidential information. No matter that the offer really was extraordinarily generous, or that, in fact, it had been arranged by Miss Brookmere herself. The moral complicity was the same as if it really had come from a hostile third party. The only difference was that the girls who accepted this particular offer - and most did - got caught. And paid the price. Amanda weighed her options. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. This was just supposed to be your standard summer job: low paying, but the work wasn't particularly difficult. Most important, it was another bit of "real life" experience to add to the resume. Some effective padding. Just the sort of thing the senior partners in the City liked to see. Amanda was only one year away from completing her MBA, and the interviews would be starting that Fall. Hence, the summer ritual of "resume padding" assumed a new importance. But the job had turned out to be a bit of a dud, even for a summer temp job. It had sounded interesting in the listing - a company called Unified Analysis had been looking for a temporary executive assistant to establish a plan for office restructuring - but the reality had fallen far short of her expectations. For one thing, the company had turned out to be quite a bit smaller than she had expected. The company brochure had represented a business in which the company received core samples and other types of field tests from various mining and related enterprises and provided analysis reports of those samples. That was true enough as far as it went, but the company itself was only a middleman, receiving samples and then sending them out to commercial labs. Hence, the entire company consisted of just four women: Carol Brookmere, who owned and ran it, Vanessa Todd, a technician who coordinated all of the technical reports along with what little in-house testing actually took place, Janine Bush, who provided secretarial support, and a slender, dark-haired girl named Linda (Amanda didn't know her last name), who seemed to be something of an office 'go-fer'. She just did routine filing, typing and general carrying/fetching for the other women. She was a bit of a mystery to Amanda, as she never went out for drinks or lunch with the other workers, but Amanda really didn't pay much attention. What did catch her attention, however, was the fact that there was very little work for her to do that matched her expectations or required any of the skills she had acquired in years of business school. It was mostly just routine scheduling and the like. She had complained a number of times to Carol, but nothing changed. Disappointed, Amanda had already written off the summer when she received a call from a man offering her a fabulous amount of money for the results of certain, specified core sample tests. She had been reluctant at first, but the money was great and the risk seemed small. She had easy access to the reports. Besides, what did she owe Carol? The woman was using her for mundane labor and paying her slave wages on top of it. And so, about one month into her summer employment, Amanda had photocopied the results of the required tests and mailed them to the specified address. Everything had seemed to go smoothly, and she expected to receive payment at any time. And then Carol, looking angry, had called her into her office. She knew. Somehow, she knew... Options. They were twofold and they were simple. She could either allow Carol to call the police and then sit quietly until they arrived to take her away, or she could agree to work at the company for an extra year, "working off her debt". The latter possibility was certainly unattractive; it would mean missing a year of school and spending it stuck in this backwater. On the other hand, the probability - no, the virtual certainty - of being convicted for industrial espionage... well, Amanda didn't really know how serious a crime that was, but she suspected that it was pretty serious. The money involved had been substantial. And, even if the penalty was not as serious as she feared, no one would ever hire her after that. As a convicted felon, her business career would be over before it started. Options... When she caught herself trying to figure out how to convince the university to let her defer her final year, she realized that she had already made up her mind... The blonde girl looked up. "I'll do it," she said, lip quivering slightly. "I'll work the extra year." Miss Brookmere nodded, unsurprised. To date, not a single girl had chosen to call the older woman on her bluff. Moving swiftly, she opened a folder and put it down on the desk in front of the younger girl. "Here's our standard services contract. I've filled in one year for the length of employment."Amanda, upset, barely even read the document before signing it. 'Stupid bitch,' Ms Brookmere thought, retrieving the signed contract and putting it away in her desk. 'Didn't even glance at it.' In fact, the document contained a number of clauses and provisions which would have surprised the young business student had she been careful enough to read through it. 'No matter,' the older woman reflected, 'she'll become familiar with those clauses in time.' "Now," she stated, walking around the desk and standing beside her new 'office girl', "we must discuss your new duties." "New duties?" Amanda looked up over her shoulder at the woman standing behind her, her green eyes questioning. "What..." "Hush." Miss Brookmere leaned down and silenced the girl by laying a finger against her lips. "You really must learn to listen." Obediently, Amanda fell silent, her cheeks turning red. When she was sure of her control, the older woman took her hand away from the girl's lips and moved it slowly downward until it came to rest on the swell of her small breasts. Amanda stiffened at the touch, but didn't pull away as her boss cupped her left breast and gave it a soft squeeze. Likewise, she just sat there, stunned and frozen, when the hand was slipped down the top of her white blouse, under the bra and resumed its squeezing. "That feels good now, doesn't it?" Miss Brookmere had leaned over, and was whispering in the younger girl's ear. Amanda didn't answer. The older woman chuckled, then slid her tongue lightly along her employee's ear. "Tell me you like it." Frightened, and uncertain of what was expected of her, the blonde girl jerked her head up and down, nodding. "Tell me," the older woman hissed. She bit down on the girl's earlobe. "Uhmm... I, uh... l-like it," Amanda stammered. Her hands clutched the arms of the chair, ready to push away, but she didn't resist. Miss Brookmere smiled, well aware of the girl's state of mind. She understood well the mixture of confusion, fear and, eventually, arousal that would prevent the girl from walking out. As long as she was careful... "Good." The older woman was whispering again as she answered the girl's uncertain statement. "I thought you might." She shifted her position slightly and then brought her thin lips up to those of her young employee. Amanda shifted in the seat, keeping her mouth firmly shut, but Miss Brookmere just squeezed, hard, on the younger woman's captive breast. Amanda couldn't help but open her mouth, gasping in pain, and the older woman took the opportunity to slip her tongue into the blonde girl's mouth. Amanda whimpered, but had no choice but to endure the long, passionate kiss. She was panting by the time the Miss Brookmere broke the contact, her small, firm breasts heaving in the other confident woman's hands. Miss Brookmere allowed herself a slight smile as she removed her hand and straightened up. This one was going to be easy.""Yes, Miss Brookmere," Amanda stuttered, broken. "I'm to masturbate until you tell me to stop." "Fine. Get to it." Hesitantly, as tears flooded her green eyes, the blonde girl dropped her left hand to her spread pussy and began to play with herself. The other hand continued to fondle and tease her exposed breasts. ***** "Ohhh..." Vanessa Todd was well on her way to an orgasm when the office door swung open and another woman walked in, holding a file folder. The newcomer was a blonde woman, about forty years old and extremely fat. Miss Todd immediately sat up in her seat and pretended to look busy. "Hi Janine," she greeted, trying to keep her voice normal. The blonde woman wasn't fooled; she had seen her friend in this state before. Smiling, she walked up to the desk. "You know the rules," she chided gently, her tone taking the sting out of the criticism. "Nothing until the new girl is hired." Vanessa nodded and smiled ruefully, acknowledging the mild rebuke, but nodded towards the boss's office. "Carol's lowering the boom right now." She pushed the current office girl out by her hair. "You know what that means, don't you little one?" Linda, who had heard the comment about 'lowering the boom' on Amanda, nodded, a genuine smile appearing on her lips for the first time in months. "Well," Miss Todd told her, "you're not done yet." She pushed the younger girl's face back down between her legs and turned back to her friend. "Is that it?" she asked, pointing to the file folder. "Yup." The large blonde woman threw the folder down on the desk. "Take a look." The technician grinned, her breathing heavy as she opened the folder and examined the contents. She went through every page, one by one, as the orgasm built and built and... Finally, she dropped the folder and came, gripping the sides of the desk as her legs spasmed and kicked uncontrollably. Underneath the desk, Linda fought to draw breath as the other woman's thighs ground together on the side of her head, forcing her nose and mouth hard up against the woman's sopping pussy. This went on for a good ten seconds as the large blonde woman looked anxiously at the door to Carol Brookmere's office. It wouldn't do to get caught... The orgasm finally subsided. With a long, tremulous sigh, the brown-haired technician pushed her chair back from the desk and allowed Linda to crawl out from between her spread legs. The young office girl was still gasping for breath, her face shiny and bangs plastered to her forehead with pussy juice. Miss Todd gestured, and the girl immediately resumed her place, kneeling beside the desk. As trained, she made no move to wipe the fluid from her face. Smiling, the brown-haired woman ran her index finger along the girl's cheek, gathering up a dollop of her own glistening juices. She held the soaked finger in front of the girl's trembling lips. Without a word of protest, the office girl parted her lips and took the woman's finger into her mouth, sucking it dry. "Good, isn't it?" "Mmmm, yes," the girl breathed, still sucking on the finger. "Good." Laughing, the brown-haired woman looked up at her friend. "Want a turn?" she asked. "I think Carol might be busy for a little while yet." The heavy blonde woman glanced at the closed door to her boss's office and then nodded her head. "Send her over," she said, walking across the room to her own desk. Miss Todd looked down and pulled her finger from the girl's mouth. "Do you want to suck the pussy of your blonde mistress?" Linda looked like she was about to cry, but she answered with enthusiasm: "Yes please." "Off you go then," Miss Todd ordered, giving the girl a shove. "Doggie walk." Smirking, she watched as the office girl crossed the room on her hands and knees, ass swaying under the mini-skirt. The technician appreciated the view, particularly as the girl wasn't wearing any underwear. It had been weeks since the girl had 'entertained' a male customer (a part of her duties at the company), but Carol made 'easy access' a firm policy for office girls. You never knew when someone might drop by. Linda eventually reached the other side of the room and slithered into her accustomed place beneath the secretary's desk. Across the room, Vanessa Todd grinned maliciously as she sorted through the content of the file folder. ***** Miss Brookmere watched for a few moments as her young employee masturbated on the chair in front of her. When she was satisfied that the girl was hard at work, she adjusted her glasses and turned her attention to some papers on her desk. The moment her attention strayed, however, the blonde girl pulled her hand away from her gaping pussy. The older woman had expected this, and reacted immediately: "Did I tell you to stop?" she asked angrily. Amanda, flushing red with humiliation, could only shake her head in silence. "Well then," Miss Brookmere said sternly, "you'd best continue then. When you've had an orgasm - a *real* orgasm, mind; I can tell the difference - then we'll discuss your new duties. Until then, you'll sit there with your fingers up your slit." The grey-haired woman turned her attention back to her work. The blonde girl stared in disbelief for a few moments, shocked as much by the language her boss had used as the orders she had been given, but then slowly brought her hand back to her exposed pussy. She began rubbing... Miss Brookmere continued to work at her desk while her humiliated young employee played with herself in front of her, desperately trying to bring herself off. The older woman couldn't help but admire Amanda's technique as the girl's long, slender fingers slid up and down along her pussy, expertly teasing her fully exposed clit. The little blonde slut clearly knew what she was doing. And, despite the humiliation of her position, the girl was becoming flushed and her breathing was getting heavy. The older woman felt her own pussy beginning to tingle as she imagined the feel of the girl's fingers... the teasing touch of her soon-to-be well trained tongue, lapping... Well, time enough for that later. One had to build up to these things. The girl seemed compliant, but... "Oh." There it was. It wasn't big; it wasn't earth-shattering, or dramatic in any sense of the word, but it was real. The girl had cum. Miss Brookmere laid her pen down on the desk. "Now," she began, as the blonde girl sat panting, legs spread and fingers glistening with her own pussy juice, "regarding your new..." She stopped speaking. "You've stopped." Amanda swallowed. "I... uh..." Ms Brookmere opened her desk drawer and pulled out an object. She flicked a switch and it began to buzz: a vibrator. A pink, plastic vibrator. She placed it on the desk in front of the blonde girl. "Use this," she ordered. Amanda froze for a few moments, looking at the buzzing object as if it were a poisonous snake, but eventually reached over to take it gingerly in her hand. The older woman smiled as her young employee brought the vibrator down and began massaging her clit with it. For a tense moment it had looked as if the girl might refuse, but it hadn't happened. The girl had made her decision and appeared to be prepared to do what she had to do to get through it. Already, her breath was starting to become short as the plastic toy did its work. "Well then, regarding your new position." She sat back in her chair and adjusted her glasses. "As you've no doubt noticed, the company is not in need of any sort of restructuring at this time. However, there are a number of tasks around the office with which you can be of assistance. Vanessa often needs reports typed; the filing is always a mess; the stock rooms always need cleaning..." "But," the blonde girl interrupted, slightly breathless from the feeling of the vibrator in her pussy, "that's... that's what Linda does! I'm a..." Miss Brookmere laughed. She just couldn't help it. Here the girl was, breasts dangling in full view, legs spread, pussy gaping and filled with a vibrator, and she was concerned about being given a job that was beneath her capabilities. Well, she'd learn soon enough; there were no longer any jobs that were beneath her. "That is correct," the older woman smiled. "You will be the new office girl. Linda is leaving us at the end of the week." Amanda opened her mouth to argue, but the hopelessness of her position seemed to overwhelm her. She had no choice; it was either do what she was told, or go to jail. And she had made her decision. "Of course," Ms Brookmere continued, "since you will be performing what is essentially unskilled labour, your pay will be commensurably less. However, with the money you will be saving on rent..." "S-saving on..." Amanda was panting now, and her nipples peeked, rock hard from her half-open blouse; the vibrator was doing its work. "Yes. You will be moving in with me." Once again, Miss Brookmere's pussy began to tingle at the thought of this beautiful young blonde moving into her house. She already had the appropriate 'items' laid out at home: dog collar; cuffs; strap on dildos... "Excuse me." Her thoughts were interrupted as Vanessa Todd stuck her head into the office. "Sorry to interrupt, but I need your decision on the, uh... option buy-out." Ms Brookmere looked at Amanda. The girl had gone beet red at the intrusion, at the prospect of someone else seeing her in this condition. But she hadn't stopped playing with herself. Good; the one *was* going to be easy. "Bring me the offers," she said, sighing. Duty called. The brown-haired technician approached the desk and placed the file folder in front of her boss.She glanced down and smirked as she saw Amanda's spread-open pussy and exposed breasts. She itched to reach down and cop a feel, but resisted the urge. Time enough for that later. The blonde girl looked down in humiliation, unable to meet the other woman's eyes. 'Far cry from the arrogant bitch who started her a few weeks ago,' Vanessa thought to herself. She couldn't wait to feel the bitch's tongue on her pussy. Miss Brookmere opened the folder and paged through the contents. It contained half a dozen pieces of paper, all offers to buy out the option contained in Linda's contract. Of course, the company had renewed the option on the one-year contract - Linda didn't know yet; there was no notice requirement - and now it was just a matter of determining the party to whom their rights under the contract were to be sold. The first offer was from a Scottish couple, Nigel and Miriam Hammersmith. They were looking for a new 'domestic'. Ms. Brookmere considered and then put the offer aside. Nigel and Miriam were dear friends, but all things being equal, she preferred to sell out to someone in the field. The remaining offers all fit that description: one was from a mining operation in Alaska; another came from a petroleum and natural gas exploration unit in the Middle East. After a few moments' thought, Miss Brookmere chose to accept an offer from the crew of an oil rig in the Gulf of Mexico. United Analysis had done several deals with that company over the last few years, and she felt that they deserved the chance - it must get so lonely for the men on the rig. Besides, she reflected, poor Linda never did learn to enjoy sex with other women; it seemed only fair to place her in a position where she'd be surrounded by men. After all, she would be working there for the next several years. Her decision made, Miss Brookmere closed the folder and handed the oil rig offer to her employee. "This is the one," she stated. "I trust you can make all the necessary arrangements for shipping by the weekend?" Vanessa looked at the paper and grinned. "No problem," she answered, turning to leave the office. "I'll see to it right away." The woman glanced down at the new office girl as she left the office. The younger girl was panting now, running the buzzing vibrator in and out of her sopping pussy. She seemed oblivious, lost in her own world. Ms. Brookmere sighed as her secretary left the office. She wished that she could be there when they told Linda what was to become of her. The poor girl had no idea that the option on her contract had been renewed - that it *could* be renewed; she expected to be discharged at the end of the week, having paid her 'debt' to the company. The grey-haired woman couldn't help but imagine the scene when Vanessa, after securing the girl for shipping, would tell her what was happening: the panic; the tears; the begging. It wasn't to be, though. She had other duties. Besides, sometimes it strengthened character to deny oneself these little pleasures. "Ahhh..." She was interrupted from her thoughts as the new office girl experienced another orgasm. Miss Brookmere licked her lips as she regarded the girl, legs splayed, pussy exposed and dripping, breasts glistening with sweat. The new office girl. One pleasure, she promised herself, she would experience to the fullest. THE END

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11847.txt

marky

On the Holodeck

"Come on in, Jessie," the boss said as Jessie knocked on his door. "Please take a seat." "What's up, Boss? Am I in trouble?" "Not exactly. I'll cut straight to the chase. We are worried about you, Jess. Since... you know... since the accident, you've been less than your usual productive self." "I'm doing my best, Boss. It's just hard to concentrate sometimes." "In this business, Jessie, lack of concentration is a major problem." "So what are you saying to me?" asked Jessie. "We want you to take some time off. We think you need time to grieve. When Demi died, it was a shock to us all. But you tried to just carry on, against the advice of others. You need time to get over what happened properly." "I can't take time off. What shall I do?" "That's up to you. Find some way to help you get over Demi, take a vacation, spend all your time in a Holodeck, whatever. Just do whatever you need to come back here and back to working the way you did before." "I can't afford to take time off." "It'll be a paid sabbatical. You don't have a choice. As of tomorrow, I don't want to see you here for another month. Is that clear?" Jessie arrived back at his house. What was he going to do for the next 30 days? All his material for his project was at work, so he couldn't do that. He didn't have enough credits for a holiday. His only option was to run an immersive Holodeck program, to try and "get away from it all." Over the next few days, he tried many different programs, but none of them could hold his interest. Even the best-selling crime series, "Franklin Jones Investigates," he found boring. He hated to admit it to himself, but he missed his dear Demi. He figured he needed to see her again, to touch her, to smell her. "Computer," he said as he entered the Holodeck, "do you have enough data on file to create a facsimile of Demi Huskley?" The computer answered in a soft, sensual female voice, "There is enough data on file to create an accurate physical facsimile of Demi Huskley." "How accurate?" asked Jessie. "To within 1%," the computer informed him. "Then do it." "Working... Working," the computer repeated as it began to build up the Hologram version of Jessie's wife. Slowly the image came into focus. Her long black hair cascaded down her back. Her breasts swelled out in a divine manner, and with her rounded hips, formed a delightful hourglass figure. "Computer, much as I like seeing my wife naked, perhaps you should put some clothes on her." "Select outfit," said the computer. "Something casual... Jeans and T-shirt." The clothes appeared on Demi's form, covering up her assets. Jessie was slightly disappointed, but at least he could look at her without a permanent hard-on. He walked around her static figure, admiring the way she looked. "I always liked you in Jeans, Dee. Your ass fills them just right." He walked back around to the front, smiling constantly. "I wish I could talk to you. There's so much I need to tell you. I've missed the sound of your voice so much." He stood admiring this copy of his dead wife. Suddenly he had an idea. "Computer. Can you make her speak, so that I can have a conversation with her?" "Yes. A copy of Demi Huskley's vocal pattern is on file. This can be used to simulate her voice." "Do it. Have her interact with me." He waited a few moments until the computer told him that Holo-Demi was ready to speak. "Demi? I've missed you." Holo-Demi stood soundless. "Did you miss me too?" Jessie asked. "Yes." It was definitely Demi's voice, but it sounded hollow, emotionless. "How have you been?" Jessie wanted her to reply in full, to have a conversation with her. "I have been dead," said Holo-Demi. Jessie nearly broke into tears. "Computer. You've got it wrong, this is all wrong." "Is it not Demi Huskley's voice?" asked the computer. "Yes, it's her voice, but she sounds like you. There's no emotion in her voice." "It is what you asked for. An interactive copy of Demi Huskley using her vocal pattern," said the computer. "That's not what I meant," said Jessie. "Could you incorporate the personality subroutine from 'Franklin Jones Investigates' into this program, and adapt it to produce a copy of Demi's personality?" "It would require a large amount of data of the chosen subject," said the computer. "Would 50 or so hours of home video data be enough?" asked Jessie. "It would." "How long will it take?" questioned Jessie. "The integration would take 2 hours 7 minutes," the computer informed him. "Fine. I'll be back in 2 hours. Place Demi in the Martian restaurant program for when I return." While he waited for the computer to finish its task, Jessie took a long bath to freshen up. He picked out his best suit and did his hair. If he was going to see Demi again, he wanted to look his best. When he got back to the Holodeck, the program was already running. He opened the door and went in. The Martian Restaurant program created an atmospheric restaurant overlooking the red Martian skyline. He approached the bar and saw Demi sat on a bar stool wearing a slinky black velvet dress. She had two glasses in front of her filled with what looked like rum and coke. She turned around to greet him as he approached. "Hi, Jessie. Where have you been? You're over five minutes late." It was perfect. Exactly what the real Demi would have said. "Sorry," he said, "Traffic." "I got you a Malibu and Coke," she said, "Your favorite." "Thanks," he said. He was speechless. After so long, here he was having a drink with the most perfect of God's creatures. "You look radiant," he said, "and I love that dress on you." "Thanks," she said with a smile, "I brought it specially." The waiter walked up to them and coughed politely. "Your table is ready, Sir, Madame. If you would care to follow me." He led the couple, walking arm in arm, to their table. They ordered food and wine, which came promptly. There wasn't much conversation between them as the night wore on. Jessie was just glad to be in the company of the woman he had loved for 12 years. They ate their meal, then danced the night away in the restaurant's disco. At a quarter to one in the morning, the music from the disco slowed down to smoochy numbers as the place prepared to close for the night. Demi and Jessie danced close. He held her tightly against him, cupping her ass cheeks in his hands. Her hands were around his neck as they kissed passionately, exploring each other's mouths with their tongues. He moved his hands up her body, following the contour of her hips. As his hands reached the swell of her breast, he moved his hands around to her back, then back down to her bum.He squeezed each cheek of her bum in turn. She moaned as they kissed. The final song ended, and the couple left the dance floor to finish their drinks. The program was coming to an end, and Jessie didn't want to leave his wife. "Computer," he said, "freeze program." Everything around Jessie came to a standstill, even Demi. It was like standing in a waxworks museum. "Computer, how much of this program is left?" "You should escort your guest to her car, then the program ends." "Shit," he paused, "Tell you what. Search the Adult files on the network. Find a program that involves two lovers going to a hotel room after a meal." "Searching... Searching... Search complete. There are 6 such programs on file." "Great," said Jessie, "Merge them into one and add it to the end of this program. Add in the adaptive subroutine I wrote, then continue program." The computer responded, "Working... Working... Working... Program complete." As the computer voice faded away, the scene surrounding Jessie came back to life. "Come on," said Demi, "Let's go back to the hotel and have another drink." "Okay," said Jessie, "I'll get the coats and meet you outside." That's what he did. He fetched the couple's overcoats from the cloakroom, then met Demi outside the restaurant, where she had already hailed a taxi. "Quick," she said, "the meter's running." Jessie jumped into the back seat of the cab beside Demi. As soon as he was in, the driver set off for their hotel. For the entire journey, Demi and Jessie made out in the back seat. They kissed, and their hands explored each other. The driver enjoyed the view in his mirror. By the time they got to their hotel, Jessie's erection made it difficult for him to walk. Demi noticed. "What's wrong, Jess? A little excited?" They made their way up to their rooms, groping each other in the elevator. No sooner had Jessie closed the door behind them after entering the room than Demi fell to her knees and pulled at the zip to his trousers. She reached inside and searched for his dick. She found it, and in its current state had a little trouble getting it out into the open. "Hmm," she moaned as she examined the trouser snake. She looked at it from all angles, licking her lips in anticipation. "I love you," she said, then slowly wrapped her lips over the head of Jessie's straining prick. Jessie threw his head back and closed his eyes as she worked him over. The real Demi had loved to do this too. She slipped it into her mouth further, until it was all the way in, her nose touching his belly, and his balls hitting her chin. She stayed there, seemingly motionless, but inside her mouth, her tongue was furiously licking and stroking along the length of his shaft, and around the bulbous head. She began to move her head back and forth, slowly at first, but then increasing pace as she used her hand to stroke it too. Her other hand cupped his balls, massaging them gently. It had been a long time since Jessie had been in this situation, and he came quickly and with force. Demi swallowed every last drop, milking him dry. She took his shrinking dick out of her mouth and stood up in front of Jessie. She kissed him full on the lips, and he could taste his own sperm. She broke off from him. "I love you," she said. "I love you too," replied Jessie, breathless. "How about that drink?" she said as she went over to the mini-bar, leaving Jessie standing by the door, his shriveled cock hanging out of his fly. He tucked it back inside his pants and joined Demi who was now sitting on the bed with two drinks. He sipped the drink as he stared into his wife's emerald green eyes. He was lost. In heaven. He had fallen in love all over again. He knew that this was bad for his mind, he was supposed to be trying to get over Demi's tragic death. Yet here he was about to make love to her for the first time in ages. Surely some psychologist somewhere would be able to justify it. He was saying good-bye. They finished the drinks, and placed the empty cups on the floor. They looked at each other, and began kissing again. As they did, they also tried to undress each other. Demi pushed Jessie's jacket off, and began to unbutton his shirt. Jessie pulled the straps of her dress down off her shoulders. Demi ran her fingers through the hair on Jessie's chest as it was exposed by his open shirt. He pulled her dress down, exposing her breasts, covered in a tiny black lace bra. He reached around her back and unclasped the snaps of the garment. It fell away, revealing the milky white domes, with their big pink nipples. Jessie's hands cupped her tits, and his fingers began to flick at her nipples. She pushed his shirt off, throwing it to the other side of the room. Her hands fell to his belt buckle. She undid it, then opened up his trousers. Her hands went inside, searching for his dick. Meantime, he moved his head down and began to suck first at the left, then the right nipple. She moaned, enjoying the sensation Jessie was giving her. She stood, and slowly she slid the dress all the way down, past her ankles, and she kicked it off to the side. Jessie looked at her admiringly. She wore no knickers. Smiling at Jessie, Demi lay down on the bed, her hands above her head and one leg lifted up, bent at the knee. The look in her eyes said just one thing, "Fuck me." Jessie stood and got rid of his last remaining articles of clothing. Then he climbed up the bed to where Demi lay. As he reached her, she put her arms around his neck, and pulled his head towards her for a kiss. She parted her legs for him, and he reached down to guide himself inside her. As his dick penetrated her, parting the red lips of her pussy, she gasped. Slowly he filled her up, pushing inside her as far as he would go, stretching her. He began to grind his hips against her, sliding back and forth. She moaned as he pulled out, and gasped as he forced his way back in. They kept a steady rhythm, and were lost to their own passion. Presently, she rolled him over, trying not to separate from him as she did. She was now sat on top of him, straddling him. Once she was comfortable, she began to ride him. She started slowly, and increased in tempo as her pleasure grew. She built towards orgasm, and as it approached she began to buck wildly, impaled on Jessie's dick. As she stopped cumming, she fell down on top of Jessie. Breathlessly she said, "I love you." He said nothing, but kissed her hard for a few seconds. Then he rolled her over, moving his hands underneath her arse, lifting it to give him easier access. He was close to his own orgasm, and wanted to pound his beautiful wife as hard as he could. There was no slow build-up this time. He just rammed into her as fast as he could. His pace was furious, and with each inward stroke, Demi gasped loudly, as if the air was being forced out of her lungs. Within minutes, he was shooting his sperm deep inside Demi's womb. He collapsed on top of her exhausted. "I love you, Demi," he said. She rolled onto her side, and he scooped up beside her, draping his arm over her. As she fell asleep, the computer voice boomed around the room. "This program has reached its conclusion." "Damn," said Jessie. He climbed out of the bed, Demi now motionless. As he dressed, he said, "Computer," then paused, "Save program as 'Demi 1'. I think I'll be running that again." With that, he left the Holodeck as the hotel room, and Demi, faded and vanished.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/14738.txt

Stephanie

It's Hard to be a Man

"You're going to have to stall Patrick," Abigail said over the phone. "I won't be able to get there before he does." "But what do I do?" Ian replied fearfully. "Just talk about anything. Just keep him occupied for as long as possible. I'll give the signal to Amanda. With luck, she can get out in time without meeting Patrick or alerting Hank. Now move!" Ian headed as quickly as he could down to reception. His heart was racing. What was he going to say to Patrick? He was the last person on Earth Ian wanted to talk to. It meant having to face up to having had sex with a man. The minutes passed slowly, and Ian was beginning to hope that Abigail had got it wrong and Patrick had gone somewhere else. That hope was dashed when he saw Patrick's car pull past reception and into the car park. Ian tried to act casual as his boss walked into reception. He had to keep Patrick from realizing what he was doing. Despite himself, his mouth dropped open when he saw what Patrick had on. His boss was wearing a short, and rather tight, black mini-skirt, a revealing blouse, and a dark jacket. He also had several rings and bracelets on. The effect was topped with makeup and clip-on earrings. Patrick turned to look at Ian. "Hiya," he said brightly. "Uh...hi," Ian managed to reply. "Are you okay? You're looking an odd color." "Sorry, I was just thinking about what happened last time we met." Idiot! he berated himself, couldn't you find something else to talk about? "It's disturbing you, isn't it?" Patrick asked softly. "Well, yeah, obviously. I mean you're a man after all." Patrick shook his head. "Not anymore. I'm a woman now and I always will be. Anyway, Hank doesn't have a problem with my body." "Of course he doesn't! He doesn't know you're Patrick!" Pretending not to notice what he was doing, Patrick brushed back the jacket, revealing the curve of his breast through his blouse. He was amused to see Ian's eyes flick over his curves. "Look, Ian. I'm a woman, a very sexy one in fact, and I turned you on so much you lost control. It's hardly your fault. It's a pity I'm with Hank; you're not bad looking yourself." Patrick moved closer and was amused to see Ian stumble backwards. "Don't worry, I don't bite. Unless you want me to." He turned and walked over to the elevator. It took Ian several seconds to recover and remember what he was supposed to be doing. He barely had time to catch up with Patrick before the elevator doors closed on him. "You... you shouldn't deceive Hank like this. It isn't right." "Don't be ridiculous. I'm not deceiving him. I'm exactly who I appear to be. Anyway, what are you going to do about it? Tell Hank?" Ian was silent. Of course he couldn't tell Hank. He'd never be believed. They arrived on the fourth floor, and Patrick set off as fast as he could on his high heels towards his office.Patrick's stomach gave another lurch as he remembered how he had escaped by giving Ian a blowjob and then breaking free. He couldn't turn back into a man just yet; the clothes he had on were too obviously feminine. He calmed himself down, dried his eyes with a tissue, and started driving again. He would go back to his apartment and dress in his male clothes. Then he'd burn every piece of female clothing in the place. Ian rode his motorbike the few streets to where Abigail and Amanda were waiting. "Did Hank see Patrick turn male?" was Amanda's first question. "I don't think so," Ian replied. "He seemed more worried about what Patrick would do when he found out. He wasn't too happy you'd disappeared either." "Typical," Amanda remarked, "he wanted two women at once and now he's surprised he's lost both." "The big question, though," Abigail pointed out, "is: Has this worked? Are we still dealing with 'Rebecca', or is Patrick back in charge?" "I hope it worked," Ian said fervently, "I do not want to go through that again." "You two get some rest," Abigail said. "You've done everything possible for one night. I'll go over to his apartment alone and see what sort of state he's in." Amanda was a little reluctant at leaving at that point. She wanted to know if her plan had worked. Ian, however, was only too happy to get home and relax. Abigail's car was still playing up a little, but it worked well enough to allow her to reach Patrick's apartment building. She knocked quietly at the door to his apartment and waited. She wished her own psychic powers were good enough to see if he was in there or not. She knocked again and waited nervously. She was about to leave when she heard a movement behind the door. Then the door opened a crack and she was relieved to see Patrick's male face poking around it. He looked so forlorn that she couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Without saying a word, Patrick let her into the apartment. They looked at each other in silence for several long seconds. Finally, Patrick spoke, "You three planned that, didn't you?" "Yes," she admitted, "it was Amanda's idea, but we all went along with it. It was a desperate move, but we had to do something. I'm really sorry, Patrick." He sighed and slumped down in an armchair. "I don't think I've ever been so happy than I was this weekend. Everything was perfect. Or so it seemed at the time. Now I can't believe a quarter of the things I've done in the last few days. I was totally and completely in love with Hank. I would have done anything for him. Anything! I was even playing with the idea of getting pregnant! I thought that would bind us together forever. I probably wouldn't have seen him for dust if I had told him he was going to be a father." Patrick's hand flew to his belly. "You don't think I did get pregnant? We didn't use any protection!" "It probably doesn't matter. You're a man right now and even if... something did happen... it probably disappeared when you turned male." Patrick managed a weak smile, "That's probably a good thing. I don't think I'd make a good Mom." He was uncomfortably aware that a part of him was upset by the idea of a lost child. "I really, truly, am sorry about all this," Abigail told him. "We will do everything we can to sort this out, but it is going to be a few weeks before we can perform the ceremony again." "I'm stuck like this for several more weeks?" he asked despairingly. "I'd forgotten the strain it took just to stay male. I can feel the pressure already building within me." "Perhaps you should take the next few weeks off work. Just until everything is sorted out." "I can't do that! There's far too much to do." "It can wait," she replied exasperated, "Your health is more important." "Don't worry, Abigail. I'll be fine." "Are you sure?" "Yeah." "Okay, but I want you to call either me, Amanda or Ian if you need help." "I will," he replied. He felt a little reticent at going for Amanda or Ian for help, but it wasn't like he'd have much choice. He would have to depend on these three considerably over the next few weeks. He hadn't needed to be supported like that since before he had gone to University and it hurt his male pride a little. Abigail didn't want to leave Patrick alone, but he insisted. He said he had a lot of things to think through so she left him to it. After she had left, Patrick returned to the main room and sat back in the chair. His emotions were a jumbled mess and nothing seemed certain anymore. His affair with Hank went against every fiber of his being and yet, it had felt good to be held in those powerful arms. He winced as he remembered how he had tricked Ian into freeing him. He was a good few years younger than Patrick, but he was so cute. Patrick wished he could stop those odd little thoughts entering his head. He knew it wasn't a sign that he might snap back into sex-kitten mode, but it showed that his whole perception of the world had been permanently altered. Soon, he was going to have to change into a woman again. Every second spent male meant he had to expend effort to stop himself changing sex. He was going to have to spend most evenings as a woman to give himself the mental energy to last the day at work as a man. This was a battle he could win, he decided. All he had to do was hold back the female desires for the several weeks necessary. Then, when fully male again, the female desires would slowly disappear. A part of him didn't truly believe he had the stamina. The way he had so disastrously lost control before deeply worried him. The knowledge of what could happen if he slipped again only increased his determination to resist it. He allowed his body to turn female again. He was relieved to find that his mind didn't change as well as his body. It looked like 'Becky' was gone for good. He just wished that his male body felt half as comfortable and familiar as this one did. The office was filled with a tense atmosphere the next morning. Everyone was worried about something different, but it all led back to 'Becky'. Hank was worried about what Becky might have said to Patrick. She had been a weird girl, but very good in bed. He still couldn't make any sense about what Amanda had been up to the previous evening. It was almost as if she had been trying to drive a wedge between himself and Becky, but why would she want to do that? He wondered if Amanda really was available. It would be best to leave that well alone as he was probably in enough trouble over Becky as it was. Ian was terrified about meeting Patrick for the first time since his boss regained his senses. How would Patrick react to what he and Ian had done together? Susan was wondering what the hell was going on with everyone and how it could affect her job. Outside in the car park, Patrick was trying to calm himself down before heading up to the office. He had let his body become mostly female so he would be able to concentrate on driving. Now he had reached work, he gathered his will together and concentrated until his body turned fully male again. He adjusted his clothing and then headed inside the building and into the elevator. He worried over meeting Hank again. How could their friendship survive the intimacy they had shared? Even if only one of them knew they had been intimate with the other. "Hiya, Patrick!" Hank said smiling broadly as Patrick walked into the office. "I was sorry to hear about your cousin." Hank's eye was bruised and swollen. Patrick remembered the cover story he had given as Becky to explain his disappearance. "It's okay, we weren't that close, but there was no-one else to deal with everything." He frowned at Hank's black eye. "What happened to you?" "Oh, that," Hank said and laughed a little nervously. "I...uh... walked into a door." Patrick couldn't help but smile at the lame excuse. "I hope she was worth it." Hank relaxed a little. He assumed by Patrick's attitude that his friend and boss had no idea what had happened between him and Becky. "She was." Patrick looked up at the rest of his staff. He saw Ian at the back looking nervous. "Right, we've got a lot to do, and no time to do it in. So I need one-hundred and ten percent effort from all of you today." He headed into his inner office and sighed at the mountain of work. It had certainly built up while he had been playing the bimbo. He settled down behind his desk and relaxed his control on the lower half of his body. Within a few seconds, his hips widened as he felt a by now familiar pulling sensation in his crotch as he turned physically female. He squirmed in his chair to get comfortable and then turned to the reports. Despite his attempts to concentrate on the files, he couldn't help but return to thinking about his condition. It was only natural that his female form would feel more comfortable than his male one as he had spent so much time in recent days as a woman. As the hours passed, his headache started to return with a vengeance. If only he could be a woman and keep his job, he thought to himself. Then he wouldn't feel so sick all the time. It was, of course, impossible as his female self did not officially exist, had no qualifications and had no job history. Was being a woman so bad anyway? As long as he kept his own mind instead of becoming Becky again. Sex on the opposite side had been fantastic. Patrick looked through the glass partition at the rest of the office. He'd always see Hank, Ian and perhaps all men in a different way from now on. He could now see the beauty in men's bodies. He found himself scanning male bodies just as much as female ones. That was discomforting to him, and he hoped that his bisexuality would fade in time. Even if it did, he doubted it would be a door that would ever fully close. By lunchtime, his headache was getting serious.He knew he'd need to take time out and rest in his female form at Abigail's bookshop. Patrick would have preferred to have set an example to the rest of his staff and work through his lunch break, but he knew he'd never survive the day if he did. Barely able to keep his body male, he headed down and out of the building and over to Abigail's shop. Patrick sensed someone following him and he turned to see Ian a few feet behind him. Ian looked embarrassed. "I-I need to talk to you." Patrick nodded. If anything, Ian was more disturbed about what had happened between them than Patrick was. "Okay, let's keep walking. I need to get to Abigail's for a break." Ian clearly didn't want to say anything in public, so they walked in silence the short distance to the New Age bookstore. Abigail smiled as she saw Patrick enter. "How are you?" "Splitting headache, but other than that, I'm okay," Patrick replied. He could see she was surprised Ian was with him. "Could I ask a favor?" "Of course," Abigail replied. "Ian and I need to talk in private and..." "Say no more," Abigail interrupted. "Go on upstairs." "Thanks, Abigail." Abigail smiled at Ian as he passed her on his way upstairs. He smiled back nervously and then followed Patrick up the narrow stairs to Abigail's apartment. Patrick slumped down in an armchair when he got there and undid the top few buttons of his shirt. Ian was about to ask Patrick why he was doing that when Patrick's body started to writhe and change. Ian's jaw dropped open as he watched his boss' body turn female. He had never seen the change up close before. His eyes ran over the voluptuous woman's body enclosed in a male suit with a mixture of horror and lust. Despite himself, Patrick's feminine form was turning him on. He consciously avoided looking down Patrick's exposed cleavage. This only confirmed that the decision he had reached was the right one. Patrick broke the silence, "So, what did you want to talk about?" he asked in, what seemed to Ian, a devastatingly sexy female voice. "Well..." Ian started. "I can't get over what happened, and being around you and Hank every day only makes it worse. I've decided to resign. It'd be better for both of us if we didn't see each other." "You don't need to do that," Patrick replied quietly. He could see how much pain Ian was in. "The last few days have been traumatic for all of us, but we can work it out. In time everything will get back to normal." Ian realized his gaze had slipped down to Patrick's barely concealed breasts again. He looked away and shuddered. "You don't understand. Part of me doesn't want anything to change; it wants you so much. That's why I have to back off." Patrick took in several long gasps to try to calm himself down. "I gotta go," he said abruptly before bolting for the stairs down to the shop. "Ian, wait up!" Patrick called, but Ian didn't listen and was out of the shop as fast as he could go. Patrick walked over to the window and watched Ian run off. He could feel tears in the corners of his eyes, but couldn't quite work out why he felt so sad.

Part Eleven

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/10435.txt

Spoonbender

The Oldest Profession (?)

"You don't agree, do you?" "It's not that I don't agree, I just think 30 is rather a large number for her to handle. 30! Every day. She'll soon get worn out." "I don't think so, she's young and fit. She'll cope. Anyway, she's really got no choice. And more to the point, nor have we. That's the number we get, so that's the number she'll have to handle." "I was just thinking that we might start her off more gently." "Look at it this way. If we reduce the number, then we'll have to put the prices up, and if we do that, then we'd end up with fewer numbers. It's a vicious circle. You need a critical mass of customers to keep the place going. Remember, most of our clients come via word of mouth. The only other alternative is to hand over some of hers to one of the others, and I don't think they'd be too pleased. They had to cope, and so must she." "I suppose you are right. It just seems a lot, considering she is so inexperienced." "She'll get the experience soon enough. If there's one thing this type of work is good at, it is in providing on-the-job training." They both laughed at this. "Hmm. Yes, okay. So have you discussed it with her?" "No. She'll do what she's told. As I said, she really has no choice." "It makes you wonder what makes these girls want to do it." "Money, kudos, lots of reasons. Young women are very susceptible; they see an older woman doing it and they envy them their lifestyle. Then they get sucked in, and before they know where they are, they are stuck, and they find they can't get any other type of employment once it becomes known what they've been doing." "But it always ends up with the reality being so different from the perceptions." There was a shrug from the other side of the table. "What can I say? Every job has its own mystique, and so has this. As it happens, I know exactly why she came here." "Why?" "Her stepfather." "You don't mean that horrid little man who was always asking about how much she'd earn?" "That's the one. It seems that he is unemployed, and her mother died years ago. So he sees the girl as his meal ticket. For what I can gather, he pressured her into it; he told her that it was the only sort of work a girl with her qualifications could get." "Poor girl. Fancy having to hand your earnings over to him. Anyway, couldn't she have been a typist or something?" "She wouldn't earn anywhere near the money she gets here. Anyway, don't look a gift horse in the mouth; she came just at the right time, we needed someone else after we lost Molly." "What happened to her? I never did find out." "Overwork, they said. There's only so much abuse a girl can take. Still, it was a pity, as she was very good. Now she could cope with 30 easily; she's often dealt with more when the situation demanded it." "Rather her than me. I couldn't think of a more tiring job." "Like every job, you get used to it in time." "I don't think I ever could." "I agree it's not the job for everybody. Especially in view of the social stigma that is now attached to it. In some countries, it is regarded as performing a valuable service to the community and as such, it is regarded as a worthwhile profession. Like in Holland, for example." "It's a long time since I've heard it called a profession, especially in this country." "It used to be, before the government changed everything and gave it such a bad name. Whatever they say, it is the oldest profession in the world. And it is perfectly natural. Most of us do it at one time or another." A smile. "Not with 30 at a time." "True, but then again, that's why she is paid so much." "I think she earns every penny, rather her than me. Anyway, changing the subject, is her room prepared?" "Yes, Molly left everything as it was. All she needs is there." "Did you redecorate? If I recall, the room is a bit shabby." "They don't seem to mind. Anyway, they don't come here for the decor." "Surely if the rooms looked nicer, we'd attract more clients." "Catch 22, I'm afraid. You attract more, and then she'd have to cope with more." "Hmm. I see what you mean. Can you answer a question for me? It's something I've always wondered about, do they get any pleasure from it?" "Some don't and some do. It's hard to say. The ones who do are obviously the most popular, so we try and encourage it." "I can't see how anyone could enjoy it." The headmistress smiled across at the new school governor. "Which is probably why you are not an infant teacher in a private school."

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/16156.txt

Nick

Building Bridges - (The "Unexpurgated Version")

"Bastard!" she screamed, delivering a stinging slap that rattled my teeth. Jenny had just come out of Kate's office, a little more briskly than usual. This had attracted my attention, and when I asked her what was up, that was the reaction I got! That in itself was enough to silence the workaday murmur of the open-plan working area, but the situation was then compounded by her running back to her desk in floods of tears. Friends flocked around to comfort her, shooting me the occasional poisonous glance. Since Jenny and I had been getting on so well recently (very, very well, in fact!), I felt I needed to get to the bottom of this little outburst. The answer looked as if it might lie in Kate's office, whence she had just emerged, so in I went. Apart from anything else, I needed to retreat from the hostile gaze of my colleagues! Kate was a good-looking woman in her mid-thirties. Her face, framed by blonde ringlets, had a girlish appearance, and there was something about her which made men want to protect her. However, her steely grey eyes, trained by authority, told the more perceptive that she was more than capable of looking after herself. Our business was selling and implementing surveillance systems, and she and I had worked on a number of projects together. I had built up a high regard for her professional competence. It has to be said that I also found her attractive, but she was a married lady, and as such off-limits. Besides, Peter, her husband, was not the kind of man whose trust one abused. Except once.... But then we had both had far too much to drink, and the experience, in the cold light of day, was embarrassing. Neither of us had spoken of it again. "What's the matter with Jenny?" I asked her. "Ah! I'm glad you're here," Kate said icily, looking up. She pushed a sheet of paper towards me. I picked it up and read it: "To: N.Rogers From: J.Cousins Subject: Hot Seat! Nick, I came in with no panties today! I can't get last night out of my mind, and I'm finding it hard to concentrate on my work. When things are quiet, I pull myself close to my desk, where no-one can see, and... well, you know! I've been doing this rather a lot! Can you come and put a stop to it please! ;-) Jenny" I felt my face redden with embarrassment and anger! I had received the message earlier today and, with a smile, filed it in my personal mailbox. For Kate, or anyone, to raid my mailbox like this, as she had clearly done, was simply unacceptable! "Kate, this was a private e-mail! You're not supposed to...." She interrupted me, eyes blazing. "Jenny is my secretary! She is employed by this company to do a job of work, not to ...." For a moment she was lost for words, "...screw around with guys who ought to know BETTER!" I opened my mouth and closed it again. "As for THIS," she indicated the printed e-mail, "our office systems are provided for WORK and WORK alone!" She continued to glare at me, her mouth twitching slightly, betraying an uncharacteristic level of passion. I might have argued with her further about invasion of privacy, but something told me it was best not to. "Sorry," I mumbled, "it won't happen...." "You have two seconds," she hissed, "to leave my office before I haul you up for sexual harassment!" Two seconds was long enough - just! I was shaking as I stood in the corridor. I could see Jenny still sobbing, and her friends, who must have heard Kate tearing me off, were now looking at me as if I was an axe-murderer! However, I felt deeply sorry for her. How could she tell her friends that the reason for her distress stemmed from the fact that she was sitting there right now in amongst them without any panties! Something that I had previously found extremely sexy, now seemed pathetic. I wanted to comfort her too, but at the moment, surrounded by feminine cohorts, it was out of the question. I walked slowly back to my desk. OK, if that was the end of it, I'm sure things could have been explained and patched up eventually. But it wasn't! Later that day I noticed that the company notice-board seemed to be attracting a lot of interest. As I approached, however, the sniggering crowd of people gathered round, dissipated suddenly, laughter stifled in discreet coughs. Jenny's message to me was pinned on the board for all to see! Underneath, Kate had scrawled: "This behaviour is not acceptable..." I couldn't read it! What was she playing at? If she wanted to get me for some reason, couldn't she see what she was doing to poor Jenny!? In a fit of rage, I ripped it down and tore it into shreds. Something had to be done! As I turned to go, I saw Jenny. It was the middle of the afternoon, but she had her coat on. Her eyes showed her humiliation as she hurried past me. "Jenny...!" "Leave me alone!" she cried, her voice cracking as she hurried out. The office was no place to indulge in passionate personal discussions, so I let her go. That night I had two missions. The first and most important was to go and see Jenny. She was in a bad way, and I felt that if I saw her on her home territory, she might be a little calmer. When she answered the door, it was clear that she had been crying constantly. It was also clear that she didn't want to see me, but she let me in anyway. "How could you DO that!" she rounded on me as soon as her front door was closed. Her long dark hair flew about her face, which was twisted with hurt anguish. Jenny was a good secretary with a reputation for efficiency, but as I had discovered, she had a human side too. In contrast to her work persona, her house was a complete mess! That was one of the things I liked about her. "Jenny, why would I do that!" I said firmly. "Think about it - what do I gain? Besides, I think you know me better than that!" She looked down for a moment, considering what I had said and seeing that there was some sense in it. Some girls in this state lose the capacity for any rational thought, but Jenny was not like that. "Then who?" she was still suspicious. "I don't know. Someone must have hacked into the system." I was sure in my own mind that Kate had done it, but I could not think why. Jenny was even more sure. "It was that bitch wasn't it!" she muttered. "You know, she suspected there was something between us and she didn't like it! Why else would she....would she....." and she started weeping again. "I can't go back there!" She bawled, "I can't I can't!" I took her in my arms. "I'm going to see her now, Jen, and get to the bottom of it," I said. "I'll sort it out, don't you worry!" She stopped crying and studied me as if she was trying to work something out. "I'll be right back!" She disappeared upstairs for a few moments, then returned, an enigmatic smile on her face. "If you're going to see her," she said, "come back to me afterwards. I want to know everything that happened." She put her arms around me, her hands moving over my back, neck, and shoulders, and soothing me in the way only she could. "Besides," she whispered, "I badly need some company tonight!" I left Jenny and went on to Kate's house. I had been racking my brains to work out why she had humiliated poor Jenny in this way, and could come up with nothing! She was not, after all, known as a "moral crusader" where sex was concerned, and so I could only think it was some personal issue of which I knew nothing. We were working on different projects now, so we had not had much contact. I suppose it was true, however, from the contact we had had, that she had come across a little cold, but I put that down to pressure of work. Jenny worked more closely with her, of course, and might have had a better sense of what might have been going on in her mind. There was clearly something serious that was eating her, and I had to get to the bottom of it. Apart from poor Jenny, who I felt was an innocent bystander, I needed Kate's goodwill and still valued her friendship. I rang the doorbell, feeling more than a little anxious. "Oh, it's you!" Kate almost sneered as she answered the door.It sounded like Kate, but the woman in front of me seemed poles apart from the efficient businesswoman I had come to know in the work environment! True, everyone knew how attractive she could make herself for work functions, but here, face to face and under these circumstances, it was somehow different. Skillful application of makeup had transformed her face from simply attractive to truly sensational. This was one of her gifts, and sometimes I wondered why she messed around in a backwater like ours and did not try to make something with her looks. The coloring, of course, matched her short green evening dress, which clung to her like film, reminding me what a wonderful figure she had! The overall effect was quite breathtaking, but I had business to attend to! "May I come in?" I asked as evenly as I could manage. She looked blankly at me. "There are some things to discuss," I explained. She shrugged and stood aside. "I haven't got long," she said as I walked into her hallway, "I was on my way out in fact." It was Kate after all - the nasty, vicious woman who had so devastated her loyal secretary - not the angel I thought had answered the door. I suppressed the anger at the unwarranted pressure she was putting on me. I had a difficult task and she knew that. Nevertheless, I smiled back at her as disarmingly as I could. "Well, I think you and I have solved bigger problems than this together in the past - I wouldn't expect it to take long at all!" My smile was not returned as she brushed past me into her lounge. "I know it won't!" she said as she busied herself checking her makeup with a hand-mirror. I caught her perfume as she passed, and watched her hips swaying easily with her movement. I remembered that one night of passion we had had. It was that hip-swing that had done it for me then. "So shoot!" she said as she poured herself a small Scotch. Once again, with an effort, I brought myself back to earth! I was offered neither a drink nor a seat. She clearly just wanted me out as quickly as possible. "Kate, I think we have to sort out what happened today." "Oh?" she said, "and what was that? Forgive me, but I have a lot of important things to...." Now she was just being stupid! I interrupted her. "You know what I'm talking about!" I said acidly. She looked at me coldly, but said nothing. Maybe a little charm would do the trick. "Look, Kate, I know something's been bothering you," I spread my arms, "let's talk about it, eh?!" She smiled at me sweetly. "I really don't know what you're talking about!" she said, turning away. She began to pretend I was not there as she carried on with her preparations. "OK!" I decided to come straight out with it. "I want an apology for what you did to Jenny and me, and I want to know how you are going to make it right!" She shot a glance at me, then burst out laughing! "An apology?!" she said, peals of laughter ringing through the room, "He...he wants....an apology?!" I was losing it. I started talking: "Well, if not to me then to Jenny. She...." But her laughter was cutting across my speech. She simply was not listening. I felt my temper strain. "Shut up!" I yelled. She carried on laughing. "SHUT UP!" Still laughing. Suddenly the laughter stopped! I found myself staring at her horrified face - her body pressed against the wall, my fingers around her throat! I could feel the blood pounding in my head. For an instant I had lost control and that frightened me! It seemed incredible that I was actually standing here with my hand gripping the windpipe of a woman so highly regarded by everyone I knew - myself included! I thought of Peter. What would he do if he could see what I was doing to his wife!? I told myself that this was somehow nothing to do with him. This was an argument between two adults, and if in this day and age she couldn't look after herself, that was her problem, not his! I felt dissatisfied with that argument, but I was still angry with her and my mind was closed to the idea that I might be doing something wrong. I felt her breasts against my chest and for the briefest of instants I thought..... ! No! Even in my state of mind, I knew that would be a betrayal of Peter, Jenny, Kate and just about everything I stood for. So where did I go from here? For a moment I thought about trying to talk to her again, but I knew it was futile. The time for talking was past, and I now just wanted to teach her a lesson. The dress looked expensive! I let go of her throat, and seizing her arm, I swung her round and pushed her in front of me toward the patio doors. She yelped as she stumbled over the coffee table, and I took wicked pleasure in the sight of her upper thighs pushing her hemline upward as she fell forward. I strode past her and opened the patio doors. It was dark outside, and it had been raining. The cool air blew into the room as I turned to pull her up by her long blonde hair and propel her through the door. "Aaaaaah!" I had a dentist's view of her back teeth as she opened her mouth in pain. She reached up to grab my wrist and twisted her body to ease the pressure on her scalp, her breasts thrusting forward against the low-cut dress as she arched her back. This highly professional woman who conducted herself with an almost intimidating dignity at work, commanding the respect of all around her, was now bucking and writhing like a trapped animal under my control. It seemed vaguely blasphemous - but at the same time intoxicating! I bundled her through the door and pushed her headlong into the garden, sending her sprawling across the muddy lawn. I stood smiling at her predicament, as she slowly pushed herself onto her knees. She turned to face me, and I took a twisted pleasure in the fact that her beautiful face and her blonde ringlets were caked with mud down the left side. The front of her dress was marked with brown streaks and now barely contained her right breast. She was certainly no longer the elegant woman who had answered the door to me earlier! "You sick bastard!" she sneered, her face twisted with hatred. "I'll get you for this!" My smile vanished. Ruining her dress was all I really intended to do, but in a brief moment of lucidity, it occurred to me that I had completely failed to achieve what I had originally set out to! After this, there was no way either Jenny or I would be able to work with her again! Not only had I failed to repair our relationship, but I now had a powerful enemy. She would finish my career after this, of that there was no doubt! All hope gone, I felt myself slipping into a blind, uncontrollable rage of frustration. A voice inside me told me I had nothing left to lose now! Snapping suddenly, I lunged towards her, seized her arm, and pulled her to her feet. As she tried to regain her balance, I swung her against the wall, knocking the breath from her. Now, I saw abject fear in her face. It seemed as if it was someone else who drew my hand back, someone else who snarled like an animal at her, and someone else who brought my hand crashing down on the side of her face! As soon as my hand made contact, that "someone else" was gone, and I was alone, watching her head swing to the left under the impact of my hand and hearing her gasp. She brought her hand to her cheek, staring open-mouthed into space. I was breathing hard and shaking. I knew everything was lost now. I looked at her briefly, her face still frozen and staring, and then turned away, unable to look at her. My frustration still pounded in my head, but with the anger gone, it had no outlet. I felt as if my head was going to explode! Unmanly tears stung my eyes! I stood with my back to her, taking deep breaths, struggling to bring myself under control. Then I felt her hand on my shoulder. For a moment I froze, then I tried to shake it off like a shy schoolboy, but she pulled me round. "Come on, Nick!" she whispered. I turned to face her, unable to look at her face. My eyes rested perversely on her breasts. Her dress was, as I'd intended, ruined with streaks of damp mud from the garden. It may have been the light, but for the first time I noticed her nipples distorting the smooth fabric as they rose and fell with her breathing. Not that that was anything to do with me! "My God!" she whispered. "What have I done!" What had SHE done! The question shocked me into looking up at her. She bit her lip, and I saw her own eyes moist. The hatred in her face was completely gone, replaced too by remorse - genuine and deep - for what she had done. "You're a good man, Nick, I know you'd never hurt anyone....God, I've been awful to you, haven't I!" She was silent for a moment. "Do it again!" I stared at her like an idiot. "I deserve it, I've been such a bitch to you. Slap me again!" "I can't!" I said. "DO IT!" She shouted suddenly, and I reacted on autopilot, raising my hand. "Nooo!" She raised her hand defensively. Suddenly, she was an awkward, confused little girl who stood there biting her lip and shooting me shy, tearful glances. I took her in my arms - there was nothing else to do - and she melted into me, great, heartrending sobs racking her body. We stood there for several minutes while she cried herself out, and I struggled to hold back my own tears. I ran my fingers through her hair, feeling the hardness of her scalp and absently cleaning away what I could of the mud which still matted it. "I.....I....." her breath came in jerks. "I'm........s..so........sooooorry!" she wailed. I held her tight, biting my own lip. "I've.......b been ...... so......h...horrible!" We held each other while her sobs subsided. Then she pulled away from me, grasping both my hands in hers and looking into my eyes. She pulled me gently back through the patio doors into her living room, where she stood for a few moments, still watching me. I wondered for a moment what she had in mind. Her face was expressionless and gave me no clues.My unspoken question was answered as slowly, she pulled my hand up to her breast and pressed it there. I was confused, but the release of the tension of the last few minutes was washing over me like warm waves. It was arousing me in the same way it was clearly arousing her. With a sense of wonder I had not felt since my teenage years, I luxuriated in the feel of the soft roundness of her breast and squeezed gently. I became aware of the growing hardness of her responding nipple. I put my hand on the nape of her neck, pulled her towards me, and kissed her. I sensed those tiny little nuances that make a woman unique - the scent of her body, the way her lips trembled under mine, and other things too subtle to put into words - and became aware that I was violating an essential part of her relationship with Peter. I also remembered that one fumbled drunken night with her, but it had not been like this. She closed her eyes, and I felt her hand working at the buttons on her blouse. The pressure in my own loins rose as she gently guided my hand into the top of her dress. Her breathing became labored, and her action more urgent now as she wrestled with my belt. By the time I felt her hand slide into my jeans and wrap itself around me, I was solid as a rock, and I had to distract myself with practicalities to prevent myself from coming there and then! I was dimly aware that the sofa was behind her, and I propelled her towards it, failing to notice the coffee table between us and the sofa, and we both fell over it, tipping it and sending cups, glasses, and magazines flying. I landed on top of her on the sofa, and her back arched as she uttered a low, shuddering moan that seemed to come from deep within her. Her mound pressed against me as I fell between her legs, the short mud-stained dress now up around her waist. Dizzy with lust, I pulled her breast free of her dress, while I ran my other hand over her belly and into her tight panties, feeling the crunch of her pubic hair. My finger ran down her slit and over her hard little clit, to probe deeply into the folds of her now slippery pussy. Her body shuddered as I touched her. Frantically, she pushed my jeans down my legs and then started desperately to tear at her own panties. Her body was thrusting with almost demonic strength now, and I pushed myself down to kiss her breasts. Her head was thrown back, exposing the whiteness of her throat, which seemed to pulse with her being. She grunted with a sudden exertion, and I heard the ripping of material as the side-seam of her panties gave way. Now exposed, her pubic hair tickled my penis, and as her hips thrust upwards expectantly, there was clearly nothing else for me to do if I was to avoid spurting the contents of my testicles all over her belly, dress, and sofa. Only the delicious warmth and the delicate pulsing of her vaginal muscles told me I was inside her. That was more than enough! I felt my consciousness all but slip away as my genitals took absolute control of my life for those few seconds, filling her body. I was only dimly aware of wild animal screams, my own and hers, which seemed to last forever. We lay together for a few minutes, feeling the frantic beating of each other's hearts gently subside as we slowly became human again. Gradually, I became aware of the presence of pain. My back felt as if it had been torn to shreds! She pulled me towards her, smothering my face with little kisses. "I've wanted you ever since that night!" she murmured. She held on to me as if she was drowning. "It's been...too long, but it's all right now, isn't it, my love!" Her passion was beginning to scare me slightly. Peter became a big question in my mind. "Of course," she continued, "I'll sack Jenny, then we can be together!" I pulled away. "What is it, my love?" she was smiling, looking searchingly into my face. I didn't have the heart to risk offending her again. "Nothing," I replied. "What are you going to tell Peter?" "Oh!" she relaxed, "Leave him to me, I can handle him!" I smiled and glanced around absently. A broken cup lay nearby, staining the white carpet with the dregs of the coffee it had contained. The coffee table lay on its side, one of its legs broken, surrounded by more broken glasses and magazines. The immaculate carpet was marked with mud trailing from the garden to the sofa where we lay. The room looked like a bomb had hit it! "And this?" I indicated the destruction. She propped herself up on her elbow. "Oh yes, I see what you mean!" she grinned wickedly. "We certainly had fun!" "Kate!" I said, taking my courage in both hands, "I have to go - things to see to!" "Typical man!" she muttered bitterly, and for a moment I was reminded of how she had been. "Any cleaning to be done and you're out of here!" Then she smiled again. "Well, I suppose you're right," she said. "Peter will be back soon anyway." I stood up, pulling my jeans up as I did so, and looked around once more. She lay on the sofa, legs still open, her now useless panties hanging irrelevantly from her thigh, as our fluids dripped from her onto the already stained sofa. That would take some scrubbing! "By the way," I asked, buttoning my bedraggled shirt, noticing for the first time something under the collar, "Where were you going tonight?" "Nowhere!" she said, looking slightly puzzled. She got up from the sofa, smoothed down her dress, and kissed me. "Until the next time, dearest!" I walked to my car with a smile and felt the object under my collar again. A small burr. I plucked it from my shirt, discarded it, and thought no more of it. I switched on the engine and looked in my rearview mirror to pull away. I noticed a pair of headlights some distance away, and as I sped off, they fell back. I saw them switch off about where I had been parked. I had to get back to Jenny, but first I needed to shower and change - women can be very sensitive where the scent of their own sex is concerned! I felt a pang of guilt. On the face of it, I had betrayed her with Kate, and if she knew about it, it would drive her mad! These were extraordinary circumstances, and I told myself I really had no other choice. Even so, I was not about to tell her. I had other things to feel uneasy about though. Although I now knew Kate was not about to stab me in the back - for the short term at least, this was by no means more than short term. The important thing, however, was Jenny. She would almost inevitably be sacked the following day, if she didn't resign first. Finding another job in this town was difficult though, and I wanted to keep her with me anyway. If there had been any doubt while I was with Kate, I knew now that Jenny was the most important thing in my life! Even so, it seemed the problem was intractable. It took me half an hour to shower and wash Kate from me. The marks on my back were another matter, and would take some explaining to Jenny. Well, there was nothing to be done. I would just have to cross that bridge when I came to it. As it happened, I need not have worried. I turned up at her door, and she opened it before I reached the doorbell. Her hall light was switched off, and all I could make out were the harsh shadows on her face cast by the outside street lamp. She said nothing and pulled me indoors, kissing me full on the lips as she closed the door. I had expected to spend at least part of the evening trying to explain what had happened between me and Kate. I was going to be as honest as I could, but I would clearly have to leave out some of the details - well, most of them, in fact! It seemed, though, that she was seized with a passion that needed urgent satisfaction, and despite the draining events of the evening so far, I soon found myself infected by it. As she clawed painfully at my back and pushed herself against me, it was all I could do to prevent myself from crying out. I channeled the pain to my fingers, which clawed hard at her buttocks contained within her tight skirt. She moaned softly into my mouth and clawed at me all the harder. I twisted in pain, and we overbalanced, crashing to the floor where she continued to writhe on top of me. I pulled her skirt up and kneaded her now naked flesh. Still no panties! Somewhere in the back of my mind, I wondered if she had put on a pair at some point during the day and then removed them again.... She parted her legs, and I thrust my hand between them, feeling the warm wetness of her delicate flesh. "Aaaah!" She rolled off me, and I realized I had still been channeling my pain into her and was hurting. I started to apologize, but she interrupted. "Now!" she barked, "Noooow!" Her legs were spread, and her undulating pubic mound glistened in the half-light. Despite the aching in my testicles, I penetrated her and for the second time that night planted my seed. We lay in each other's arms for a few moments. I, for one, was totally spent, and all I wanted to do was sleep. In fact, I was beginning to doze on that cold hall floor when she shoved me suddenly. "Go now!" No ceremony, no explanation. I looked at her, puzzled. "I want you to go!" she repeated, her voice even. Nonplussed, I got up and pulled on my jeans once more. I had no strength left to argue with her or seek or give explanations. I barely had the strength to drive home! Whether deserved or not, that night I slept the sleep of the just. The next day, I arrived late. I had decided to go straight in to Kate and tell her that if she was going to sack Jenny, I would resign too, but my alarm clock had failed to wake me, and now I was worried that by the time I arrived, the deed might already have been done. Kate was not there! Kate was never late! Jenny was in though, working busily, seemingly unaware of the curious looks she was getting from people who had read her infamous email and frankly did not expect to see her for a while at least! I too was surprised to see her.As I approached her, she looked up at me and smiled brightly. "Hi, Nick!" she beamed. "Er, hi. Where's Kate?" Her face seemed to darken slightly. "Ah, she said she..." The phone rang. "...excuse me... "Kate Murphy's office..... "No, she's not in yet, can I help?..... "Ah yes, I'm familiar with the details - leave it with me, Mr. Mitchell..."

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/7613.txt

GW

After The Tournament. Part II

"Are you threatening me, you perverted little bitch?" Frank snarled aloud and punched Sandy in her naked belly. She doubled over, gasping in pain. Seeing the look of pain in Sandy's face made Frank feel better and guilty as hell at the same time. Unable to control his tumultuous emotions, he smashed his fist into her face. Sandy tumbled backward onto the floor. "You lousy bastard!" Sandy yelled, nearly crying. Her negligee had fallen open and her beautiful, sexy body was fully exposed. Frank jumped on Sandy and straddled her chest. He punched her twice more in the face. Sandy was almost unconscious. Frank noticed his huge penis was hard. He rose to his knees, parted Sandy's plump muscled thighs, and drove into her with vengeful excitement. "You want to fight me, Baby? You got it!" Frank snarled in his wife's face. Sandy couldn't do anything but lie there and take it. Being punched in the face and raped wasn't what she'd been dreaming about a few minutes before, but Frank's sudden brutality overwhelmed her. She found herself almost as excited as her furious husband. They both came furiously together. Frank fell across Sandy's body and lay there exhausted. Sandy's ring victory had taken a lot out of him, and his usual stamina was sorely depleted. Sandy had recovered from his punches and she was furious. "O.K. Bastard, if that's how you want it!" Sandy muttered and grabbed Frank's sore ears, just as she had during the match. Lifting his head from where it lolled against her sumptuous bosom, Sandy smashed her forehead against Frank's mouth and nose. Frank saw stars and Sandy slid her legs around his waist. With a sudden thrusting grip, she locked her ankles behind his back. Stunned and hurt, Frank reared his head up. As he did, Sandy smashed her forehead into his chin, and then into his jaw. "You bitch, what are you doing?" Frank roared. Sandy stifled his roars by tightening her powerful thighs, until Frank groaned at the pressure. She rolled him off her and rolled on top of his right arm, trapping it beneath her body. At the same time, she locked her hands together under his chin and pushed his head back as far as it would go. Frank beat ineffectually at Sandy's arm and shoulder with his left hand, but her head was shielded by her arms, and he couldn't do anything to break her grip. His back and belly still ached from the beating the gorgeous blond had given him that afternoon, and now she was squeezing his trunk like a tube of toothpaste. "Lemme go! Goddam you!" Frank yelled, furious, but unable to get at the fierce blond. "Make me, wimp!" Sandy sneered, and bent Frank's head back further, and squeezed her dynamic legs tighter. She pressed her face against his hairy chest and sank her sharp, white teeth into his powerfully developed pectoral muscle. Her teeth sliced into his nipple, drawing blood. Frank shrieked in pain "You filthy bitch... awwwwrrrrrrr... Stop it, let go! Leggo, leggo!" Sandy snarled through teeth clenched tightly in Frank's flesh. "I'll let you go when I get damn good and ready, you dirty, lousy, little pansy!" Sandy felt her husband's big muscular body start to go limp. She loosened her legs and pushed him over on his back. She crouched astride his middle. Before letting his chest go, she bit down as hard as she could; then she sat up. Frank's head was still bent backward at an angle, and Sandy karate chopped him across the throat. Frank thrashed around trying to throw Sandy off. She'd drained a lot of his strength, and he might be unskilled at wrestling, but he was still a formidable athlete. It wasn't easy to pin him. Before he could dislodge her, Sandy stood up. As she stepped off her husband, Sandy stamped her high-heeled foot into his belly. Frank's body jackknifed. The hard-looking, washboard of muscles felt all squishy to Sandy. She could feel the tingle all the way up her thigh. She smiled at the damage she was doing. "Stupid jerk, he deserves everything he gets!" Sandy smiled complacently. "Get up and take your punishment like a man! Even if you can't act like one!" Sandy sneered. Sandy's contempt was another blow to Frank's damaged manhood. "Lousy bitch!" He almost wept. He rolled over on his hands and knees, trying to scrabble to his feet. Sandy's leg flashed to kick his hard muscular behind. Frank sailed forward on his face. Sandy leaped at him and knee-dropped into the small of Frank's back. She'd already strained and hurt it badly that afternoon. Frank screamed at the sharp renewal of agonizing pain. Sandy was totally indifferent to Frank's suffering now. She grabbed his big muscular arm and twisted it behind him in a hammer lock. She pushed him up on his feet, held his arm tight with one hand, and plowed her free fist into his kidneys. After half a dozen kidney punches, Sandy let Frank's arm go and spun him around. She smiled at the look of sick shock in his face and plowed her fist into his weakened belly, well below the belt-line. Frank croaked as the air whooshed from his lungs. He doubled over clutching his abdomen, but he couldn't ease the terrible cramps. Doubled over, Frank's face made a tempting target. Sandy slapped him as hard as she possibly could, putting all her strong, supple, back muscles into it. Frank's head snapped to the side, and Sandy backhanded the other side of his face just as hard. Frank's knees buckled, and he pitched forward. Sandy caught him under the armpits and straightened him up. She drove her knee up between his legs, stopping just short of crushing his scrotum. She laughed at the cringing fear in his pain-bleared eyes. She slid her arms around his waist and locked them in the middle of his back. Sandy crushed Frank's near-helpless body against her vibrant nudity. She worked her powerful arms up and down his body. Her softer, girlish body was too much for Frank to resist. Her padded, feminine belly pulverized his muscled abdomen, and her pillowy boobs mashed his herculean chest. For Frank, it seemed like a nightmare, except the pain was so awfully real. He couldn't escape Sandy's bearhug; it took all his fast-dwindling strength just to suck air into his tortured lungs in choked little sobs. Sandy exultantly drained the last bit of strength from her husband's muscular body. Frank's eyes glazed, and he went limp in Sandy's arms. Sandy contemptuously threw her husband away from her. Frank stumbled a couple of steps and fell against the wall. He clung to it for support. He was so dizzy the room was spinning around. He was dimly aware of his beautiful wife coming at him menacingly again. Frank couldn't face Sandy's wrath again, just yet. He lurched away and stumbled back into the bathroom. He slammed the door and fumbled with the lock in nervous fear. "Christ!" Frank thought. "I've got to get it together. Sandy is killing me." As he tried to lock the door, Sandy twisted the knob and slammed her sturdy body against it. "You miserable, gutless wimp, come out here and fight like a man; even if you can't fight like a woman." Sandy screamed. Frank lost his grip on the doorknob, and the door banged open. Sandy stood there with her hands on her swelling hips. "We're not finished yet!" She announced coldly. "I can't believe I'm married to a gutless little wimp, who hides in the bathroom, so his wife can't beat him up." She sneered. Sandy's sneers goaded Frank to renewed fury. He flung himself at her; his greater weight shoving her back out the door into the bedroom. His momentum bowled her over, and she landed on her plump behind. Sandy wasn't taken wholly off guard. When Frank came down on top of her, she jammed her foot in his belly. She somersaulted him over onto his back. Sandy flipped to her feet. Frank was still on the floor struggling to get up. Sandy grabbed his left arm with both hands. She bent Frank's muscular arm straight out from his side and drove her toe into his armpit several times. His arm shivered in pain, and Sandy dropped it twitching to the floor. She stamped her foot, with her full weight behind it, down on his heaving chest. Still in a raging fury, Frank whirled around and swung a roundhouse left at his wife's beautiful face. She just ducked in time. Crouching low, Sandy counter-attacked Frank's belly with her own hard little fists. A flurry of punches belted into his middle, doubling Frank over. Frank smashed his fist into Sandy's right boob, squashing it painfully against her chest. The punch knocked Sandy back a step. "Bastard!" Sandy moaned. She just managed to block a left uppercut to her jaw, but a straight right drilled into her abdomen.The svelte blonde beauty staggered, but her firm belly muscles didn't cave in the way Frank's had a moment before. Sandy staggered though and let her guard down, and Frank's left crashed into the side of her head. Sandy staggered backward. Frank followed, in a boxing stance. He looked a little more confident, but the punch to Sandy's head had stung his fist up to the elbow. He drilled another left into Sandy's large, right breast. The beautiful blonde gasped in pain, but her raised fists didn't waver. When Frank repeated the punch, Sandy bobbed aside and retaliated with a hard left to his jaw. Frank's head snapped sideways, but he followed up with a right. Sandy ducked her head, and his fist hit squarely on the top of her head. Again he felt the pain in his bare knuckles. He threw another left at her nose. Sandy ducked her head again, and Frank's fist bounced off her forehead. Sandy's head ached, but Frank's knuckles were scraped and red from her bony forehead. Sandy hit back with a quick left jab to Frank's cheek, then a right to his jaw. Despite his pained expression, Frank's right flashed toward her face. Sandy turned her head just enough so his fist glanced off her cheekbone. They traded several more punches. Sandy's head was knocked this way and that. Sandy was groggy and seeing stars, and Frank's bare fists were swollen and bleeding. He winced each time he landed a punch. Frank knew that if he had hit anyone like that yesterday, man or woman, they'd be out cold. Sandy foggily knew it too; she should be stretched out unconscious by now. It encouraged her to know she'd sapped so much of Frank's vitality. Sandy noticed how Frank hesitated now before each punch. She must capitalize on that hesitation. She concentrated hard to gather her wits, and when Frank paused, slammed a right uppercut to the point of his chin. Frank staggered back a step, seeing stars himself. Frank realized his foxy wife, though not a skilled boxer, had evened things up pretty effectively. Cursing the pain in his knuckles, Frank shifted his attack. He slammed his fist into Sandy's taut belly again, and followed with one to her large, vulnerable-looking breasts. His blows had lost some steam though, and Sandy rode out the pain in her gut. She guarded her belly closer, and left her breasts unguarded. Punches to her large, absorbent breasts hurt like hell, but didn't seem to do any lasting damage. Frank shied away from punching Sandy's hard head with his sore, bleeding knuckles, and she was effectively guarding her firm belly. The only target left was to punch his wife's large, sumptuous breasts. He knocked the huge globes all over her chest. The pain cleared the fog from Sandy's mind. She gritted her teeth, and retaliated with hard rights and lefts to Frank's face, whenever there was an opening. Her hands were sore and bruised too, but she just didn't give a damn. After a few moments of this exchange, Sandy noticed that Frank's punches hurt less. There were fewer of them too, and a lot more openings to his face. Sandy saw Frank's eyes glaze over, after one particularly hard, straight right to his chin. Her left smashed straight into his nose and he hollered in pain. Sandy stepped in close and drilled rights and lefts into Frank's lower belly. She drove him back in a crouch. Her husband's impressive abdomen was still sore and strained from her earlier attacks, and Sandy's punches took his breath away. He gulped for air, and dropped his guard to protect his vulnerable middle. Instantly Sandy blasted more rights and lefts into his exposed face. Frank stumbled and almost fell. While he tried to get his balance, Sandy stepped in close and blasted her knee up into his aching belly. She followed with a left to Frank's jaw, and a beautiful right uppercut to his chin. Sandy watched her big, powerful husband start to topple. She lowered her head and butted him in the gut. Her hard head drilled into his softened up middle and nailed his back to the wall. As Frank slid down the wall, Sandy mercilessly pounded his face and chest. The next thing Frank noticed, he was sitting helplessly against the wall. His eyes were unfocused and his ears ringing. He braced his arms back against the wall and tried to raise himself, but fell down again. Sandy was leaning against the wall, ready to drop herself. Her head throbbed, her huge breasts were bruised and pulsing with pain, and she was panting as hard as Frank. Hurting though she was, one thought filled Sandy with a heady feeling of ecstasy. Frank was tough and had boxed a little in college. Yet, she had stood toe to toe with her massively-built husband, slugging it out on equal terms, until she had beaten him to the floor.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/13464.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 tits. 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 thingie 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 tips. 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 tits 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 li'l ol' pager in your panties no nevermind t'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 hollowpoint 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.

bd, cons, mdom, wireless

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/14005.txt

Spoonbender

The Gene

"What do you mean it's fucking escaped?" The assistant winced at the choice language her director had just used. "It can't fucking escape. The government paid the best part of two hundred million dollars for this facility. It's supposed to be secure, for fuck's sake. Now you tell me the fucking thing has just walked out of here?" "Not walked exactly, sir. It can't walk, sir." The assistant tried to calm him down with a mild witticism. The director threw his hands up into the air and implored the heavens. "One of the most dangerous, and might I add controversial, pieces of scientific research has just disappeared out of the most secure, fucking building this side of Fort Knox, whose very existence is now in jeopardy. And what do I get? A fucking clown. And not even a good one either." He scowled at the quaking girl. "Get me someone who fucking knows something about this stuff. Get me Dr. Peel. Go on! NOW." The Director was well into his second large scotch when the Doctor shambled in. He looked like the fashion victim of a charity shop. The sort of guy derelicts pay to go away because his dress sense was giving them a bad name. He had a huge, beaked nose on which thick glasses balanced precariously, through which his eyes looked like dinner plates. His head was all misshapen, not badly enough to make him look hideous, more like the guy who always loses the fights in a fairground boxing booth. And is stupid enough to keep going back. Not that he was stupid. Well, he was when it came to hygiene and interpersonal relationships, intellectually, however, he was a genius. Which is why he had been chosen to head up the research into the new bacteriological agent. "It won't kill the enemy, but it will sure as hell distract them." The slogan on the lab wall said it all. And now it had gone! "Sit down, Doctor. Now, suppose you just tell me how, in God's name, could the fucking stuff escape?" The Doctor eyed him, myopically, for a second before he replied. "It appears, no, on careful reflection, there seems to be this possibility, maybe even a probability, that it was, to be exact, thrown out." "Thrown out? THROWN OUT? WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN IT WAS THROWN OUT?" The scientist cocked his head on one side. "Thrown out means that it has been disposed of," he replied to the perfectly obvious question he'd just been asked. "I know what it means, you idiot. I was just having trouble trying to get my mind round what you just said <He took a looooong deep breath> Did you actually tell me that it had just been thrown out?" "That is in the affirmative. I agree with that statement." "You agree? You fucking agree, do you? Well, glory be. I'm glad we've sorted that little misunderstanding out <The doctor beamed> Now could you please tell me why it was thrown out? If that's not too much trouble?" "No, Director, it is no trouble at all. In fact, I have this distinct recollection that it was for this very reason that I have been summoned here. So please don't worry that I'm being put to any trouble. But thank you for your solicitous enquiry." The Director stared open-mouthed. The fool has just read him the Gettysburg address and had managed to duck answering the question altogether. It's bad enough when your political masters do it, but when the staff start doing it too! Fighting the urge to reach over and strangle the lanky shit, he drew himself up and asked, his voice all honey-dewed, sweetness and light. "Could you please tell me why it was thrown out?" "I believe that I am in a position to clarify that matter. It was no good." "No good? No fucking good? What do you mean by no fucking good? <He held his hand up to the doctor> No, no, don't tell me. I couldn't take it. We spent $60 million on that research, and now you have the fucking audacity to tell me it is no good? So that's it then, is it? It don't work, so throw it out. Switch off the lights, men, the good Doctor didn't like the colour, so we might as well pack up and go home. Is that what you were trying to tell me?" The Doctor pondered the question for a moment. "I would like to put your mind at rest and assure you that there was no perceived problem, certainly amongst the research team, about the colour. I do believe we had a very close consistency amongst the views of the team. Sally, the research laboratory assistant, did, I recall, suggest at one point that it should be a darker shade, but after I discussed it with her at some length, she was more than willing to share my point of view...." 'I'm not surprised,' groaned the Director inwardly. "...So I do feel that the colour was not perceived to be the primary problem. I hope that I have clarified that point to your satisfaction?" The director pinched his fingers into the corners of his tightly closed eyes, as he tried desperately to get a mental handle on whatever the hell the reality of the situation was. How the hell they discovered anything at all with this...this....He mentally struggled for a word that would adequately describe the prat. He gave up and opened his eyes to find the doctor regarding him quizzically. "What? Yes, yes. I agree, I concur, whatever the hell you would say." "I concur, I think you'll find. Though, of course, 'I agree' could equally have been used, if the context of the question, or more accurately the grammatical nature of the interrogative had been..." "Shut up!" "But I was...." "I SAID SHUT UP......Thank you. Now what you are telling me is that the agent had been thrown out because it didn't work?" "Ah, no. Not exactly." "So what are you telling me?" "It wasn't thrown out because it didn't work." "So why?" "It's because it did work." The director's face glowed brightly, and, although the doctor wasn't actually a medical doctor, he could tell that the director was undergoing a blood pressure rise for some unfathomable reason. "It worked," said the director as he struggled to remain calm. "It worked. It Fucking WORKED. So you threw it out. Well, that's just peachy. Sorry, Uncle Sam. We lost your money, but it's ok, it was in a good cause. The doctor got bored with it, so he threw the fucking stuff away. Well, that's alright then. As long as he ain't bored. You have got the bare-faced nerve to sit there and tell me that you threw it out because it worked?" The doctor shook his head ponderously. "No. In fact, I did not throw it out <A gleam of hope in the director's eye, shortly to be dimmed as the good doctor continued.> Someone else threw it out. Now, if I were to be more exacting..." 'If you are, I'll fucking kill you,' thought the director grimly. "...I would apprise you of the fact that it was marked for disposal. So I was in error if I led you to believe that......" The director held up his hand, defeated. "So where is it now?" "It has been disposed of?" "How?" "Ah, there you have the advantage on me because I am not exactly aware of where......" "Ok. Ok. I get the picture" The director had a sneaking suspicion it would be dumped on the local landfill. The Environmental agency would love this one, the FBI, The drug, firearm and tobacco people. Even the school crossing ladies would get in on the act. This was not shaping up into being one of his better days. "So what exactly didn't this wonder-drug do that would make sure it was marked for disposal?" "It only worked on females." "So? I couldn't give a shit whether it only worked on transvestite wrestlers. We'd have achieved, partially at least, some success, enough to get another year's funding. So you threw it away?" "As I previously stated...." The director banged his hand on the table. "Shut up and just tell me what the effects are?" "Our laboratory experiments seem to indicate that the drug will alter the genetic makeup of a woman.""In what way?" Maybe they were getting somewhere. "I, or at least the team, found, using computer modeling mainly, but a couple of the laboratory assistants did agree to act as specimen subjects. That in a semi-random cycle, the libido of a female will be altered such that she would reach a highly aroused state, inasmuch that she would feel obliged. No, I must put it stronger than that, she will feel absolutely compelled to have sexual relations with the male gender of our species." The director struggled to follow the didactic ramblings but managed to glean enough to give himself enough of a handle to ask. "So what you're telling me is that it changes women's genes so they have to go out and get laid. So what? A good screw never hurt anyone." "I think I must clarify this point. They have to enter a number of dalliances." "What?" The doctor stared at him like he was an idiot, didn't he understand plain English? "They, er, would have to 'screw' a large number of men. A very large number indeed." 'Brilliant! Fucking Brilliant!' thought the Director, before asking, "How many?" "Ah, the exact number is unknown as it is not based on the totality of the contacts, it is based on a chronological variable." "Which means?" "Time. They will be in an extremely heightened state of arousal for approximately, and you must bear in mind our calculations are based on theoretical models predominantly, 16 hours." "16 hours. That's great. So for 16 hours, if I read you right, this woman is going to have to have virtually non-stop sex?" "Yes, you are correct." "And what happens if she doesn't have non-stop sex for 16 hours?" "Ah, but she must." The director tried to imagine himself trying to pleasure his wife for 16 hours. He shuddered at the thought. "But what if she doesn't?" "Yes, there we may have a problem. You see, the arousal level is so high that she would tear down walls to get at men. She will have to have them, and her increased strength, one of the side effects I'm afraid, will ensure that she gets them." He looked thoughtful. "That could create quite a few problems in actual fact." "You're damn right it could. You know what you're telling me? <The doctor nodded, of course>. You're telling me that some drug-crazed woman is suddenly going to run amok and screw everything in sight and we ain't going to be able to stop her except with a hunting rifle?" "I wouldn't have used that exact phraseology, but the sentiment is correct." "How often does this happen?" "We can't be sure precisely, because the time interval will depend on the physiology of the female in question, however we can assume that it will vary from around once every week for teenagers, through to once a month for older women, finally ceasing altogether at menopause. Ah yes, and just as she enters menopause, she will become pregnant." Just then the phone rang. "Yes?" Said the Director. "You have? Excellent." He put his hand over the microphone. "They've found the bottle." ..."Yes. Sorry I missed that. Empty. Why is it empty? It broke. Wonderful, where did it break? In the yard. Where exactly? You did what? I know you said you hosed it down the drain. Oh no, of course, it's not dangerous." 'It better fucking not be,' He thought grimly as he slammed the receiver down. "Right, can this stuff survive in the sewerage system?" "It has a virtually unlimited lifespan and can survive all but the harshest of chemical reactions," The doctor said proudly. "So you're telling me that this stuff lives forever and is probably going to find its way into the water system. Please tell me that's not what you are saying?" "The first part of your statement was correct." "Is there an antidote?" "Not as such, because it alters the genetic makeup, you see. However, it will eventually become so diluted that it would be virtually inoperative." "So only a few women may be infected?" "Not infected. Genetically transformed. In answer to your question, yes, only a few women would be initially infected." "Initially?" "Ah yes. That is another of the side effects you see. Once it alters the metabolism of the subject, she will in turn produce more of the drug. However, this 'synthetically' manufactured version would not be water-soluble and so could not affect the water supply in the same way." "So, let's get this straight, she's changed and starts making the drug inside her body." The doctor nodded, the director's mind boggled. "But it can't be transmitted by way of the water supply?" The doctor shook his head. Maybe they could keep a lid on this after all. The cup of hope was cruelly dashed from his lips when the doctor ventured. "It is transmitted on the penises of the males that have had intercourse with the woman." "This gets better and better," He said ironically. "So how do we stop it? Get them to all wear condoms?" "I'm afraid that won't work, I'm afraid, because the female must have semen injected into their bodies or it won't, as it were, count. Certainly from her psychological viewpoint and indeed her biological perspective. It is a fairly straightforward biological function in fact. Could I borrow your blackboard and I will explain it to you?" "Don't bother. I probably won't understand a word of it. So she must have sex for 16 hours and without condoms? Won't she get AIDS or something?" "Ah, there is one area where we did make a breakthrough. The drug actually destroys the AIDS virus and also malevolent bacteria. It's quite exciting really. We discovered that..." "Please. Please," Pleaded the director, head in hands. "No more." It took him a few minutes to recover his poise enough to ask. "So they can't get AIDS?" "No, nor any other sexually transmitted disease." "So let's be thankful for small mercies. So we are hoping we can keep this localized?" "Ah yes, it is very containable...." "Excellent!" "Just as long as none of the men who have had intercourse with the altered woman ever has sex again." "What? Why not?" "Because he would pass it on, of course. We designed it so he would be the carrier." "So a man that can be dragged off the street and....raped for god's sake.....by one of these women could never have sex again?" The doctor shook his head. "Not even to his wife?" "He could. But then she'd get it too. Which may prove a little stressful for him." "I should fucking think so. If my wife suddenly ran amok fucking everyone in sight for 16 hours I'd be fucking stressed out." He had a horrible thought. He'd be the first one she saw. "Now listen, Doc. Only us two know about this right?" The Doctor pondered, finger on chin, eyes gazing towards the ceiling before he nodded. "And that's the way it's going to stay. Nobody knows about this, ever. Ok?" "But..." "Ever?" "I will accede to your request, but I cannot understand why. In its way, it is a marvelous breakthrough, although sadly not exactly what we were hoping for." The Director seized on the point. "Yes, that's why we should keep it secret. So you are not labeled a failure by the scientific community." "Ah yes, a very valid point and very solicitous of you if I may say so, thinking of me like that." The Director never heard him. He was trying to calculate how far he could get away on his savings before his wife got round to drinking the water.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/7916.txt

LeAnna

Moon Part III

"Get out of here." The words were spoken coldly, emotionless, forcing their way out between the lips of Janet's mother. The door slammed shut- "You two sluts get out of my house!" Moon and Janet separated their naked bodies in a rush, their minds racing, dressing as quickly as they could. They were both cold with shock, and Janet started to cry, the shock of it hitting her like a ton of bricks. "Mom-" "I don't want to hear it- you know I don't like your goddamn bisexual shit, and now I catch you fucking that slut in my house! Get the FUCK out of here!" Janet's mother was yelling, banging against the walls and throwing objects in a tantrum. Janet and Moon heard glass shatter against the door of Janet's room, and Moon shivered in fear. Janet's face was white. "We've been going out for a long time, Mom- we haven't been just fucking--" Janet's words came out in short shrieks of sobs, and Moon was crying too. They were dressed now, and Janet was getting furious at her mother's prejudice, throwing her closet doors open and tossing her favorite clothes on her bed. "I SAID I DONT FUCKING WANT TO HEAR IT! GET THE FUCK OUT!" "FUCK YOU!" Janet was surprised by the severity of her words, but she knew she meant every word as she started to throw clothes into her backpack. She took some makeup- concealer, eyeliner and lip gloss- and tore the pictures hanging on the walls, tossing them angrily into her backpack. Moon was standing helplessly, her beautiful face contorted in pain and anger. She was gathering up Janet's belongings and stuffing them into her backpack, too, knowing what Janet liked the best from their long friendship. Finally, Janet threw her black lipstick on top of the whole pile, and tenderly put her small stuffed puppy in the front pouch of the bag. She took a thick wad of money from the top drawer of her dresser, and shoved it down her front jeans pocket. Janet's mother was in her bedroom now, still screaming and yelling in hysterics. Janet's father was woken by the noise, and he could be heard trying to calm down Janet's mother. There was another loud shattering of glass, and a few minutes later, Janet's father opened Janet's door. "Honey, you know your mom doesn't mean it, she's just upset-" his face was tearful. "I love you, dad, but I'm getting the fuck out of this twisted household.." Janet said bitterly, tearfully, hugging her father and walking out of the bedroom- heading to the front door. Moon looked at Janet's father pitifully, saying in a small, mousy voice- "I didn't mean to cause trouble, sir.." The face of Janet's father was sad, and he gave a tight smile before he turned and walked away. Moon ran to catch up with Janet, and got into Janet's car just as the tires of the 1989 Ford Probe squealed out of the driveway. They were alone in the cold night. "Hon.." Moon said softly, and Janet was hiccuping with sobs. "Let's go to my house.. we can get cleaned up and calm you down.." "YOUR mother didn't give you this kind of shit." Janet was gasping between words, and was indeed trying to calm herself down unsuccessfully. "My mom was married to a woman for 11 years.." Janet was silent with surprise. "You know my aunt?" Janet nodded. Moon went to visit her aunt every few weekends, staying with her. Janet used to joke about how her aunt had joint custody of Moon due to the frequency of her visits. "Well, she's not really my aunt. She's my mom's ex-wife.. She raised me with mom until she was about 8 years old." Janet was quiet, concentrating on the dark streets of the city, paying no homage to the stop signs or speed limits. In a city that never slept, it was 3am, and everyone was at home asleep. Or having sex. Janet didn't particularly care at this moment. She sighed, and her sigh was caught in a choking sob. She flicked on her turn signal, beginning the trek to Moon's house. "I'm sorry.." Moon sighed quietly, and wiped a tear away from her cheek. She reached out for Janet's hand, and squeezed the clammy fingers. "It's not your fault. You know what happened when she found out I was bisexual," Janet said quietly. "No, I don't." "Well.. this girl came over to my house when I was about 14. And we started to flirt a little, and we kissed a little. We were trying to piss her boyfriend off. Anyway.. she was in my lap, and I was cuddling her, when mom came to the basement and saw us. Well, she didn't say anything then, but when I talked to her later, she called her a slut. She called me a slut. She said that bisexual people were only sluts that didn't give a flying fuck who went into what hole." "Ah, Janet, I'm sorry.." Moon's tone was sympathetic. "Stop saying that!" Janet snapped, then softened. "Sorry.. none of it's your fault. Anyway.. she was in my room. There was this stereo that I had just bought, for about 125 dollars, and she picked it up and threw it at my head. It broke. I still have some pieces. She threw all my CD's, and tapes at me.. smashed most of them beyond recognition." Moon was silent for the rest of the ride to her home. Janet pulled the vehicle in Moon's driveway, and parked it. They both got out, and pulled their backpacks out with them. A light in the small trailer flicked on, and a face appeared in the window. Moon's mother, Jenny- her face was surprised at her daughter's girlfriend and her daughter coming home at 3:30 in the morning. They were greeted at the door by Jenny's waiting sentence- "what happened?" The look on both of these girls was woeful, and Janet was still sniffling and crying. Jenny ushered them inside, dressed only in a T-shirt in the cold trailer. "We had a little ... falling out with Janet's mother." The sentence was as blunt as a hot knife slicing through butter, and Jenny's face went wide with concern. Janet said nothing, and dropped her bag onto the floor of the tiny living room. "Did she find out?" "She came in when we were doing it," Moon said quietly, matter-of-fact. Jenny sighed. This sentence, if uttered to Janet's mother, would have evoked a horrific, beast-like response. However, Moon's mother was incredibly liberal (too liberal- Moon had to raise her younger sister practically by herself), and in fact supported their relationship. That's the way she was at, at their age. Janet collapsed on a couch, weary. The last hour had felt like 50. Moon opened the fridge door and handed Jenny and Janet both beers, opening one for herself with a sizzle. "And well," Moon continued, "She said for both of us sluts to get out of her house.. So I guess.. Well.. I don't know what's gonna happen now." Moon's face was tense, serious, and she lifted her beer and swallowed a quarter of the can in a gulp. Janet followed suit, and Jenny sipped the beer quietly. Moon sat next to Janet, pulling her close, holding her. Janet's body was rigid and numb with shock. "Wonder if she wants me back." The sentence was more of a statement than a question, and she was shaking her head as she said it. Neither Moon nor Jenny offered their opinion. Janet finished drinking her beer, holding the cold can in her cold fingers. She reached over and took Moon's beer, draining the rest in a few minutes. "Well you know you can stay as long as you want to, Hun- any friend of my daughter's is a friend of mine.." Jenny offered quietly. Janet nodded. "I'm tired.." "You want to go to bed?" Jenny asked gently. Janet nodded, and Moon nodded too. She reached up her hand and gently wiped another tear off of Janet's cheek. Janet's expression was cold now, and numb. "What's going on?" Moon's brother, awakened by the noises, had snuck into the living room. "Go to bed!" Moon growled at Rob, and he made a face at her, starting to leave before he noticed the beer. "HEY!"Mom, if she gets to have beer-" "She's got 4 years before she's legal, and you've got 11." The sentence was tired and well-worn from Jenny's mouth. Rob gave an "Aw!" and left. Jenny stood up and said, "I'm going to go check on Angel and go back to bed. Holler at me if you need anything." She left the room. Janet watched her leave, then stood up. She went to the pantry, pulled out a vodka bottle wordlessly, and walked to Moon's room. Moon followed silently. "When you're Russian, drink as the Russians do..." Janet gave a weak smile as she took a healthy gulp and laid down on Moon's bed, head supported by a posturpedic pillow. Fire raced through Janet's throat in the comforting way it did anytime Janet felt unhappy, and Janet reveled in the feeling. Moon took a drink from Janet's flask and undressed for bed. She put on a long shirt that reached to her mid-thigh and crawled tiredly underneath the covers. Janet slumped her shoulders as she sighed, took another swig. She sat up for a few minutes, taking a few shot's worth of vodka quickly and easily before she set the bottle on the floor to take off her pants and shirt. She got underneath the covers with Moon and placed her cold feet on Moon's calf. "HEY!" Moon laughed, pulling away. Janet grinned, stuck her feet between Moon's thighs, and held Moon as she squealed. When her feet were warm, she released Moon's arms and turned on her side. Moon snuggled close to Janet, spooning her small body tightly, and put her arms around Janet's small waist, pulling her close. Janet pushed her body back slightly to cuddle against Moon. Moon pushed Janet's hair away from her neck and kissed the back of Janet's neck comfortingly. Moon murmured softly, "I love you," and Janet took a deep breath, closing her eyes. Janet was held by Moon until she drifted into a slightly drunken sleep, her rest that night plagued with nightmares and sweat. to be continued...

Part 3

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/8272.txt

Lord Malinov

An Eye Full

"I've got to run over to the bank, Gary. Keep an eye on things for me." Ted saluted as he pushed open the backdoor of the restaurant. "Sure, Ted," said the young cook, tossing his spatula with a flip through the air. The heavy door slammed shut. "Adios." Gary turned and opened the tall chrome refrigerator behind him, and inspected the boxes of frozen meat. "Should be plenty," he said to himself, considering the evening ahead. He worked his way around the kitchen, checking for lettuce, bread, and potatoes. He stirred the chicken stock on the small stove and took a quick taste. "Hi, Gary," said June, tying her red apron behind her waist. Walking around the chrome counter, Gary grabbed the thin brunette and kissed her. "Gary!" June said emphatically, laughing in his grasp. "Not now." "Ted's gone. No one can see." Gary nibbled her throat. "Not now!" she said, twisting free of his pawing hands. "Don't make me report you." June glared menacingly at the sandy-haired youth. Gary smiled stupidly. "Aargh. You've won this battle, Miss Harper," he said dramatically, walking back to start working on his soup. "But tomorrow night, after the movie, you'll be singing a different tune, I think. Eh, my pretty? We shall see. We shall see." Gary looked back at the waitress and raised his eyebrows. June straightened her black skirt beneath the thin apron and twisted her smile, as if questioning his provocative conclusion. "Tomorrow's another day," she finally said, and pushed the swinging doors to take her place on the floor. "I'll see you wanting me, my bony-legged wench," Gary said, remembering quite well the night before last when June had come over to his apartment, when she had simply thrown herself on him. Gary breathed deeply, indulging his hunger by recalling vividly the image of June straddling him on his sofa, grinding her cotton panties over the ridge beneath his trousers, lifting her t-shirt up to press her little tit in his mouth. Gary sighed and looked out the rectangular gap at the restaurant floor. June stood wiping ashtrays, talking with Alicia. If only Steve hadn't picked that moment to come home. Gary adjusted his prick through his trousers as he stared at the thin girl, imagining the scrawny body beneath her uniform. Gary put down his spatula and walked back to the men's room. Closing the door, he unzipped his fly and fished out his heavy dick. A thick stream of piss shot into the bowl of the dingy toilet with a gurgle. Gary sighed as he relaxed in the release. He shook his sturdy prick when a door slammed. Gary smiled. Reaching over, he turned off the light and knelt down, carefully working his head beneath the small sink. His paper hat fell onto the floor. Gary pressed his eye to the jagged hole in the plaster surrounding the silver gleam of pipe. The trap felt cold against his cheek as he twisted to get a better view into the ladies' room. She tossed a gym bag against the far wall and reached up to unsnap her jeans. "Maureen's changing her clothes," thought Gary, "Sweet Jeezus." Of all the waitresses, Maureen was the Queen. Gary licked his dry lips, watching as she unzipped the deep blue denim. Absolutely gorgeous and unbelievably bitchy, Maureen invariably collected twice the tips any of her colleagues managed to get. She was invariably attentive, thoughtful, and sickeningly sweet to the patrons. Gary longed to kiss the soft pucker of her belly-button as the creamy triangle of tummy appeared from behind the opened fly. She reached back and began to pull the jeans down from the back, slowly over the tightly gripped hips. Red welts of constriction marred her waist where the denim had bit her smooth skin. Gary twisted a little more, pushing his face hard against the wall, letting his cock hang into his hand's grasp. The matted jungle of her pubic hair finally slipped into view and the jeans began to descend more rapidly. The thick scent of sex permeated the small bathroom. Gary's prick turned to steel. Maureen stepped out of her jeans, while Gary stroked his cock steadily, amazed at the vision. She stood up straight and folded her jeans. The lips of her cunt were a dull red, puffy, wedged between the crease of her lean thighs. Maureen placed her folded pants on the toilet and stood a moment. Gary held his breath. Long, delicate fingers played with the patch of golden fine hair, combing the curls with her coral pink nails, working the snarls from the floss. Gary noticed a faint white stain, a dried dollop of salt just below her navel. Maureen rubbed at her pussy, a quick furious flurry, and when her fingers moved away, Gary stared at the pink nub of her freshly aroused clit. "Mmm," Maureen murmured, grinding her hips slightly, "tonight he's going to lick me, or that's the end for him. I won't be left unsatisfied forever." Gary jerked his cock wildly. Maureen turned around. Gary's heart pounded with a dangerous intensity as he stared at her round, high ass, white and gleaming in the sharp incandescent light. She leaned over to unzip her gym bag, pressing the scarlet lips of her pussy thick between her creamy thighs, glistening damp in the furrow. Maureen bent down further, and a short burst of air erupted from within her pink hole. A thick white drop drizzled slowly down her thigh. The dark dot of her asshole winked between the heavy globes of her bottom. Gary felt the excitement welling within him, anxious to explode. Maureen stood up and stepped into her black skirt. As she lifted the linen up over the roundness of her ass, Gary noticed the heavy pink stain of fingered slaps over the creamy flesh of her right cheek. "Oh my my," he said, imagining some hung stud fucking Maureen from behind and smacking her pretty bottom. Maureen zipped the skirt and turned around as she adjusted the waistband. Gary smiled, realizing the import of the crimson circles below Maureen's knees. She sat down on the lid of the john and pulled black thigh-highs up the length of her lean legs. Maureen lifted off her t-shirt as she stood again. Gary shifted to get a peek at the dark circles of her nipples, tightening in the cool air. Her heavy breasts hung low, full soft liquid tits drooping as she picked up her starched white blouse and lace bra. Gary rubbed his hard prick angrily as the last glimpse of Maureen's beautiful secrets vanished behind the cups of her brassiere. "She's not wearing panties," he thought. "Wouldn't the guys go wild if they knew that." Gary stroked himself, delighted. "Gary," said Ted as the door opened and a flood of light rushed into the dark bathroom. "No," said Gary, trying to hide his throbbing cock while he stood. He smacked his head hard against the sink and fell back onto the floor with a scream of pain. "What in the hell is going on in here?" he heard Ted shout. Voices of howling laughter and enraged shrieks echoed through Gary's aching head. Another light went on. Someone shoved him deeper into the bathroom and helped him to stand. The door had been closed, but the laughter continued to pour through the thin wall. "Get your pants on and then get your ass into my office," growled Ted. Gary sat down in the plastic chair, his face blazing with shame, his thoughts lost in the buzz of confusion. Ted began to yell at him, profoundly, angrily, seriously, speaking a language of fury that Gary hardly understood. He heard Ted tell him he was fired, and he stood up to go. The other cook, Jack, ran over as Gary picked up his jacket. "Were you peeking at Maureen? I want to hear," Jack whispered quickly. "Back on the line, Sampson," howled Ted. "Lucky shit," said Jack with a laugh. Gary walked between the racks of cups, glancing over at the floor of the restaurant. June glared murderously at him. Gary tried to think of something to say, but pushed open the back door and stepped outside. As he walked home, Gary's spirits sank. A dry wind bit at his face. He climbed the stairs to his apartment. Everything, it seemed, had gone wrong. Gary dreaded looking for another job, applications and interviews which would want to know why he had been fired. He could still hear the laughter, could still feel the heat of his shame. June would never forgive him. She cared too much about appearances to let something like this slide. Gary tossed his keys on his dresser and fell despondently into bed. "Fuck," he said. "What an awful day."Gary hugged his pillow for a moment, trying to drown out the sound of the mocking laughter, the ridiculous moment when he had been lying on the dirty bathroom floor, his dick shriveling with the pain, hearing the girls screaming at him, furiously. And he remembered the bend, the beautiful moment when Maureen had bent over to pick up her skirt, when the lips of her pussy shimmered just two feet away, so wet, so hungry, so soft and so fine. Gary unzipped his pants and he smiled. Malinov Power belongs to those who dare. Sapere Aude.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/9009.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, I 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 who; it was a pussy-eating frenzy. My little redhead was so turned on, 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 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/Year98/7108.txt

Hidieon

Arrival

"Well," said Bart, "here we are!" Cathy looked at him, her green eyes inscrutable for the moment, but he was taking in the view outside. She heard so much in that short, deliberately banal utterance. She heard the relief and the disbelief, the edge of bitterness, and the fear that this all might still be just a fragile dream. She heard the hard-edged irony, the self-deprecation, and read in his thin hard body the struggle to detach himself from the dead anchors of the past, to seek a living future. He was aware of her gaze; she knew it. She felt her heart turn over the way it so often did, the impulse to stroke his hair, his back, his eyelids and lashes... She responded in kind, equally banal, equally layered in meaning. "It was a long trip." He turned and looked at her then, his huge blue eyes grey in the fast-fading twilight, and then again looked out to the sea. His eyes half-hidden by his absurdly long eyelashes, he answered. "Yes - it was," he said heavily, "five years long - longer!" "We made it. We're here!" Cathy said, trying to lift his mood. She succeeded, she saw the fierce joy drop into his veins like fire. A smile cracked his face, and he raised his arms. He was merely stretching, easing the kinks out of his long thin body after the long journey, but she found herself licking her lips, her hands itching to touch him. His back was an erogenous zone, and that made her smile in anticipation. She felt her body rise with his mood, as though she were to sway or leap with some new dance to music yet unwritten. "It's getting dark fast," he commented, looking out at the sea, the waves crashing over the reef far out, merely lapping where they were. "It's the tropics," she said unnecessarily, "short twilights, hardly any seasons." "Not exactly a cradle of civilization, then!" Bart laughed. "More a cradle of idleness..." "That's what we're here for," she smiled at his back - and she couldn't help herself. She went up to him, pressed herself against him. She pressed her belly to his back - feeling the old familiar tingle, the hunger building in her, knowing how he loved to feel her breasts, her nipples denting his shoulder blades. She wanted him then, immediately, but this moment was to be savored. The road had been too long, and there was too much ahead, for this planned and stolen moment of respite to be rushed. Tonight, with the windows open and the sound of the sea as their friend, isolation all that they needed as lock for the door, then would be the time. He felt the hunger in her body, and it transferred instantly to his groin. Heart and pump and hardening, and he sighed again - so difficult to believe that they had made it here, at last. He sighed again, and felt that he owned the world, that he had won all the lotteries. Her, with him. A thousand times he had wondered at her love for him, a thousand times and more he knew how deeply and vulnerably he loved her. It was such a continuing miracle that his love was returned. His cock pressing against his cutoff jeans, he longed to be free. He had a sudden absurd vision of himself, cock out, marking his territory like some dog, but in the hallucinatory flicker, he didn't know if he marked the boundaries in gold or cream... but it would be her hand, her soft pale skin upon him, pointing the way. "It's so good to be alone," she whispered, her breath warm in his ear. She felt all the interchange running between them, the history, the present, the promise of the future, and perhaps that was the sweetest triumph. There was no-one else here to try to draw them out of their world, their intense fascination with each other, the extraordinary reality of the other's presence. "But darling, I'm with you!" he quipped, and she nipped his ear at that precise pressure between pain and pleasure. "If there's anybody else here but me, you're toast!" she said. Then she pulled away from him. She had a moment's pang about the friends that they had lost along the way, those who had tried to keep them apart. But they were not here - they might be part of the future, but they were not part of this now; this arrival at their island within an island. Their bags stood forgotten in the corner, she wanted to nest, to make this place familiar. The bathroom had to come first. The heavy smaller bag clinked as she dragged it in; she put the lotions in their half-familiar places. Coconut oil was going to be so good here, so appropriate. Plain olive oil went to the kitchen. That special aromatic oil beside the bed - she smiled at it in anticipation - it would be a nice surprise! Three bottles of that special mixture of 15+, insect repellant and moisturizer. She saw his eyes on her, the acceptance as she followed her compulsion. He loved her skin, and her compulsion had the side-effect of skin wonderfully, touchably, strokably soft... Later, he would be helping her to put it on, and she would put it on him, stroking her breasts over his back... 'If you can't change your habits, harness them!' her counselor had said, and so she had. She found herself washing her hands, but it didn't matter. The water had an odd texture, half of forest, half of sea - and that didn't matter either. Outside, he was placing other things around, hats, towels, sandals, the flowing skirts that he had grinned he might wear also; the short skirts she liked, skimpy clothes for tropical nights. "It's very dark now," Bart said, as a bird started to cry outside. It was very loud and very close - a curlew. They looked for it, but it was a small grey blob in the darkness, but a cry so loud and mournful that it half made them want to laugh. "Move over, Donna Summer!" she cried at it, and at the next cry, joined in and did a fair imitation of bird and singer both. The bird responded, as did others, more distant. The noise grew deafening; they retreated to the verandah, looking out at the sea. "There'll be a moon," Cathy said, looking at the new glister on the waves, the pallid glow in the sky. "A full moon - I checked," Bart was gazing out again, content. In the background, the curlews conducted their voice duel, although the nearest bird was moving away. "We'll have to watch out for werewolves." It was a good joke, she thought, and remembered that she had already checked the locks, and there weren't any. They were here, alone on the little island within the island and its lagoon; she stayed where she was by what felt like main force. "I sometimes turn into a werewolf when you full-moon me!" he said gently, and moved his tongue across his lips lasciviously. She laughed and put a finger to his lips, and felt herself squirm inside. ... when the moon is full ... will you give your throat ... to the wolf with the red roses ... does the wolf ... hunger for me ... does the wolf ... desire me ... does the wolf ... love me ... when the moon is full ... will you give your heart ... to the wolf with the red roses ... yes It was some silly thing out of an old vinyl Meatloaf album - she could never remember all of it, just the punch-line 'I'll bet you say that to all the boys!' But she had always felt like the vulnerable throat, always felt the burning hunger of the wolf - her wolf. She looked at his profile again - he was disappearing in the rapid dusk. "It's so dark so early!" she said, and slapped at a mosquito. "We're reverse jet-lagged - we're two hours ahead," he glanced at her. "Time to change for dinner? Lotion up?" Relieved, she went inside, and he reached for the nearest combination lotion. She turned and looked at him, and switched on a sidelight. Her green eyes locked onto his smoldering grey ones, she began to strip, slowly. Of course she could just have removed her clothes - but this wasn't the moment. She felt excited, erotic, happy to be there, happy to be with him, pleased to see herself reflected in the love and lust that burned in his eyes. With a practiced motion, he squirted a large dab of lotion into the palm of his hand, and then looked down, dismayed. He was still fully dressed, and now had oily hands. She crooked a finger at him, and moved into the doorway of the bathroom cubicle.The harsh light from the recess threw her dancer's body into profile, and she played herself as a symphony in black and white. Her clothes landed awry in a basket set there for laundry; she resisted tidying them away, catching his eyes, seeing them glitter in the warm half-light. She turned as she slipped her lace bra from her shoulders, knowing how much he loved her breasts in profile, how often he had explored them with the oddly sensitive backs of his hands. Her short skirt puddled on the floor a moment later, and she stepped out of his view to remove her panties. She peered through the doorway, her panties waving in a circle from a finger, and he followed her in. "I," she breathed, "need oil." She didn't - she needed to be touched! She knew her nipples were begging, erect. Her treacherous pussy was swollen and slippery, awaiting what he might do to her. Oil? If he touched her there, he would make a dewy discovery... "Turn around," he said, and she did, a dancer's whirl, looking over her shoulder at him. She never knew where he would touch her, but for the moment, she prayed it wouldn't be her belly. She would melt, she would just have to have him, right now! That would be - well, perfect, but she knew that both of them wanted it to be even more perfect. How had they agreed that they wouldn't have sex until after dinner? She didn't know - but she felt honor bound by the unspoken contract. He ran his hands over the swelling of her hips and over her belly. Cathy fairly moaned. "Oh, God, no!" she whispered, sagging against him. "Don't get me too excited..." His erection was brushing her buttocks through his tight cutoffs; she pressed back against him, feeling able to do anything she wanted. She was also feeling unable to resist. His hands stroked upwards, cupping her breasts in the way she loved. "One of these days I'm going to get me a job as your bra," he said, and his fingers slipped towards the tips of her breasts and squeezed the nipples. She gasped again, feeling the sensation spread, hot-wired to her groin, and she found her hips rotating. "What are you trying to do to me?" she whispered, and turned and began to undo his shirt buttons. He laughed a little, and she looked up and saw hot triumph and vulnerable worship mixed in his eyes, now blue in the harsh bathroom light. "I've already done it!" he whispered, and as she peeled his shirt off, added "what are you trying to do to me?" She was business-like at his belt. "I'm trying," she said, "to get you as excited and frustrated as I am!" His cutoffs hit the floor with a clang of buckle, and he stepped out of them. More stripping of him on her part and his cock sprang free. She smiled at the familiar organ, her little big friend, and bent and bestowed a quick kiss on it, escaping his hands as he sought to keep her there. "You and me," she said to the bobbing erection, "got a date!" He reached for another bottle of lotion as she automatically tidied the day's clothes away. She pushed him into the shower, and turned the water on cold and fierce - or it should have been. But a weak lukewarm trickle emerged, strengthening only slightly when an automatic compressor cut in with a distant, intrusive mechanical noise. He laughed, jubilant, and washed away the salt of the day. He tried to pull her in there with him. She slipped free, quivering, wanting everything, denying it for now, and savoring the expectation. He managed to get her the next grasp, and caught her off balance. She staggered in beside him in the tepid stream, and then he was running his hands over her body, making slippery trails and erotic patterns in the mixture of oil and water on her skin. For a mad moment she kissed him, open-mouthed, holding nothing back. All her hunger flowed through and to him, and all her resolve was gone. She dropped her hand to his prick, and felt him jump. She knew how much her hands, worked, petted (oh, pun!) and pampered in turns, turned him on! She lifted him slightly, trailing fingers down to the base of his cock on the underside, feeling him quiver. He broke free then, just. She had turned the tables, and glanced down at her belly, seeing a little fleck of white there for a moment before the shower whisked it away. 'I just did a Monica Lewinsky,' she thought, 'but I wasn't wearing a blue dress!' She laughed at the thought and her state. She was gloriously nude and feeling free, glowing with renewed energy in the shower. He came back, decently trousered and bare-chested. She looked at him, laughing easily, seeing the bulge with her name on it in his trousers. He held up a towel, and she turned off the water and stepped out, walking towards him and threatening to wet him with her slick body. He caught her midway with the towel, wrapping it around her and rubbing her to him, drying her back while she wrapped her arms around his chest. They were sparing with the rest of the three-in-one lotion - he discovered accidentally that the taste was awful. She added a whiff of her Jasmine perfume, and smiled at him. He said he loved the smell of Jasmine; perhaps he did - or had. But now she was secure in the knowledge that he could not smell either plant or perfume without thinking of her. Once he had loved the scent, perhaps. But for the rest of his life, that scent would cue him back to her, and perhaps, to this very moment. She donned apparel appropriate for the evening. Black bikini under/outerwear; a black and orange silk top that showed through; a long flowing translucent wisp of a skirt that was tied at her waist and bared one lovely pale leg, and sandals. He was semi-formal in black trousers, black leather walkers, and a short-sleeved white shirt and short black tie. Each thought the other looked gorgeous; it showed in their eyes, and they embraced, and walked outside. The moon had risen; they walked out to see it. They started to walk, and then realized that the island was so small they would circumnavigate it in moments. So they went half way around, finishing up at the punt, with its electric motor. Tomorrow, they would explore more of their little exclusive island, and perhaps on the following day, more of the island. She had felt a slight shock of recognition, looking at the ethnically mixed faces of the locals... They boarded the punt, which skittered on the surface like all light, flat-bottomed boats. At the other end, they neared more of the expensive, discreet complex. It really had been well done. A lot of effort had gone into making the resort a series of visually isolated havens. But none, of course, was as isolated as their little island within an island. It was quiet in the off-season; only a few of the cottages showed lights. They took a quiet and roundabout journey across the lagoon, seeing whatever they could on the way. Fish jumped in the water, and they wondered what predators lurked in the depths. Barracuda, perhaps? There was a shark net. The bar/dining area was quiet. There was a band, a bunch of Rastafarians playing Harry Belafonte, which was incongruous. Waiters bustled with an uphill air, as though they'd been told to hurry but didn't quite know how to hurry, or why. This was an island in the sun, a place meant to be lazy. Why hurry? It would just make people nervous. A few wrinkly elderly couples occupied tables quietly, some in larger groups and chatting. For the most part they seemed to have a slightly bewildered air, like 'we got here forty-five years too late to have fun.' One couple was being feted for fifty years of marriage, and were flushed on complimentary champagne. That couple was interesting, if only for the warmth they spread around the room. She was little and pale and round-faced. She might have been pretty once, but it was hard to imagine. But her eyes, behind thick glasses, glittered with both intelligence and a certain never-quite-lost country-girl shyness. He was large and bald as a coot, and had a distinguished air about him. Two waiters and, unaccountably, a pretty waitress, vied for his attention. But his mild and penetrating blue eyes were fixed upon his wife, and his large, gnarled old hand clasped her pudgy one in a proprietorial way that had the gray-haired lady simpering. Then they both heard the lush lazy voice "Never mind his cock, I'll settle for his hair and his eyelashes!" Inevitably they both turned, to look at the owner of the outrageous booming voice. A couple, lesbians or drag queens, sat in a conspicuous corner, near the band. Lesbians, it soon became evident, although both girls were tall. That particular kind of slenderness only comes from being feminine, and neither had the giveaway Adam's apple. They were the most exotic couple in the room by far; and Bart and Cathy had the satisfaction of being the best looking hetero couple there. The two lesbians, obviously well into a second bottle, were eyeing them both openly and speculatively, but with such an outré quality that it was impossible to take offence. Bart and Cathy sat down, and were served. They passed up the complimentary glass of champagne. They felt vegetarian, and ordered a red salad and drank a superb vintage Australian St Henri claret, a wine perhaps better than anything out of France and one third the price. The heavy red wine tasted like all the promises of all the wine-bottles in the world; like bottled Adelaide sunshine and meditative memories of dark, cool cellars. It was odd to have a red chilled - but this was the tropics, and as the wine warmed to perfect temperature it was superb. Cathy found the smooth red slipping to her belly like fire, making her glow all over in a way that champagne never could. The warmth in her belly reminded her of the unfinished business between Bart and herself, and her nipples hardened into sharp relief under the bra. She might as well have stood and announced "I'm just so incredibly horny!""to the two lesbians, who were still eyeing them. The two girls reeked of money – someone else's money, certainly, but still money. They were like two cats; one could have been a model, she had a certain fragile beauty underneath deliberately garish makeup. The other, who had the more spectacular figure but had a definitely horsy face, was the more exuberant. And it was her voice that boomed across the room... "now there was a nice thought!" A moment later, a waiter appeared at their elbow with a second bottle, showing the label. The first was not empty. "The ladies' compliments, Sir, Ma'am, and may they offer you a drink?" Bart's eyes glittered, a little angry. Privacy was what they were here for... "No," he said, "not tonight." The voice boomed across the room. "Won't you join us?" English upper class, used to calling down the Quorn. "We'd better do the social pretty," he said, and she knew what he meant. "No," he called back, and then they both rose and went over. "Thank you for your kind invitation," said Bart formally, "but this is our first night, and we wish to savor it alone. Another night, perhaps?" "Oh, that's such a pity," gushed the younger, prettier one – Licia, was it? "You look like the only fun people here!" "So very intense you both are," commented the other, Ruth, with the booming horsewoman's voice. "Are you on honeymoon?" the gushy Licia asked. end part 1.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/16517.txt

Parker

Stacy's Senior Year

"Do you remember Peter Jenkins?" Sharon looked up from her position on the bed, where she was skimming through the latest National Enquirer. Gary was sitting in front of his computer with an old Greenwood school yearbook open in his lap. "Huh?" "Jenkins," Gary repeated. "Peter Jenkins. He was in grade twelve when you were in grade nine." He turned and handed over the old school yearbook, pointing to a picture. "That guy. He went out for Stacy for a little while, but she broke up with him." "Oh... that's right. He's the one who got so drunk at the Prom that he vomited all over himself; they had to throw him out." "That's him." Gary took back the yearbook and gazed at the picture. "He was fucked up over Stacy for months: a real basket case." Sharon glanced back at her National Enquirer for a moment, but then turned her attention back to her boyfriend. He must have something in mind, even if it was taking him a little while to get to it. Gary just stared intently at the picture for a moment, saying nothing, and then went back to work on his computer. "Yeah?" Maybe a little prodding was necessary. "Nothing special." He hit the return button on his computer, saving some work. That done, he turned back to Sharon. "I heard he was working up in Point Hope." Sharon waited silently for the other shoe to drop. This time, it was not long in coming. "I was just thinking," he mused, gazing again at the yearbook, "that maybe we're being a little greedy, keeping Stacy to ourselves up here in Bakersville. Wouldn't it be nice if we could get him back together with his old high school flame... at least for one night?" NUMBER 52 - 56 The game was over, and the players had long since showered up and left the building. Biff Talbot led his four friends into the now-deserted locker room. Together, they made up the first-string offensive line of the Greenwood Bulldogs, the football team at Greenwood High. As offensive linemen, they had not been picked for their speed, dexterity or intelligence. No; they occupied the position they did on the football team because of their size. The smallest of them, Billy Paxter - "little Bill" - was 6'2" and weighed just over 240 lbs. He received a lot of ribbing on the team because of his size. Being an offensive lineman, even a good one, was not a particularly glamorous position. It was pretty much all grunt work - "down-in-the-trenches" kind of stuff. The type of football that won games by attrition, not by spectacular solo efforts. Hence, all the attention... all the acclaim; all the girls went to the players in the flashier positions, such as the quarterbacks and wide receivers and the like. Until today. Grinning his big, stupid grin, Biff flipped open the door to one of the unused lockers at the end of the wall. "Holy shit!" Stacy flinched at the sudden brightness. She had been crouched in the locker for almost three hours, ever since the end of the game when Barry Packard had hustled her into the locker room just as the final few moments expired on the clock. Barry hadn't been "using" her since early January, when he had started going steady with another girl at school, but he hadn't forgotten Stacy either. Particularly when Neil had "explained" a few things to him. At first, he had been a little depressed at the knowledge that Stacy had only been fucking him because she was being forced to do so. Then he got angry; the bitch wouldn't give him the time of day unless she had to! At least he was seeing Heather now. And, he thought, philosophically, Stacy was such a slut these days, he didn't really want to fuck her anymore. She was used goods. Who knew where her pussy had been? Nevertheless, although he might not want her anymore for himself, he could always do favors for his buddies. Stacy hadn't complained when he told her what she was to do, not that it would have done her any good. He had been quite prepared to "insist". She had just stared down at the ground and nodded her head silently when he had told her what she was going to do; all five guys were "new meat" (Sharon's term). Each fuck would bring her closer to the end of her ordeal. "Get in," Barry ordered, opening up a locker. "Hurry." Stacy hesitated slightly - the locker was pretty small - but then she obeyed. Making certain she had a firm grip on the small flask (red wine this time), she wriggled ass-first into the locker, facing outwards. Her tight little cheerleading costume - green, sleeveless blouse and white skirt - rode up on her thighs, exposing her bare pussy to the open air. Barry, unable to resist, reached down and fondled it, slipping his middle finger into her snatch and wiggling it around. Stacy had not yet ingested any of the wine, and thus squirmed away. Barry didn't notice. A few seconds later, Barry stepped back to take a look. Stacy was wedged backwards into the locker, crouched on the heels of her feet, with her thighs splayed open. 'Looking good' he thought. 'Just one more...' "Hold on," he muttered, moving away out of Stacy's line of vision. Stacy waited nervously. The game must be over by now. Any moment there would be... "Here we are." Barry had returned with a couple of dildos a foot long. "I know how hot you are," he muttered, bending down. "I wouldn't want you to get lonely down here while you're waiting." He reached under her crotch and slowly inserted one of the dildos handles into her dry pussy. Stacy squealed and tried to wriggle away, but the silver tube slid quickly up into her pussy until about eight inches of it was lost from view. Barry propped it up on the base of the locker. Stacy tried to push herself away, but was only able to move up about four inches before her head hit the top of the locker; she was now effectively impaled on the handle until she left the enclosed space. Leering, Barry passed the other to her. "This is for your mouth," Barry instructed her. "When my buddies open this locker, I expect you to be tonguing it the way you sucked my cock a couple of months ago." Stacy looked up at him from where she crouched in the locker, her eyes watering with humiliation. "If not," he continued, unrelenting, "I'll have to complain to Sharon." He smirked at her. "We wouldn't want that, would we?" A tear trickled down Stacy's cheek as she nodded. "How about a demonstration?" Barry suggested. Stacy hesitated momentarily, but then brought the handle up to her mouth and began tonguing and licking it. She closed her eyes as she did so, trying to imagine that it was a real cock; that she was anywhere but here... FLASH! Stacy's eyes flew open. Barry was standing in front of her with a polaroid camera. He took another picture while she stared at him in panic and then lowered the camera. "Looking good," he laughed. Stacy turned red, but continued sucking hungrily at the handle as she had been ordered to do. Still laughing, Barry moved forward and slammed shut the locker door. Inside, Stacy pulled the handled out of her mouth and reached down for the thermos, wincing as the slight movement caused the unwelcome visitor in her pussy to grind itself in a little further.Stacy had remained in the cramped confines of the locker for the next three hours before Biff and the rest of the linemen arrived. It had been quite hot in the locker room, particularly as the boys were showering, and by the end of the three hours, her entire body was damp with sweat. Her skirt was bunched up at her waist, and the shirt of the cheerleading outfit, never all that concealing in the first place, was now plastered to her upper body, clearly revealing her rock-hard nipples. She had gone through most of the wine in the thermos, more from thirst than anything else, and she was almost unbearably horny. More than once during her stay in the locker, she had been tempted to burst out and grab one of the cocks that floated so temptingly across her limited field of vision (there were small ventilation slits in the front of the locker), but common sense - and a good dose of fear - had won out. There were over twenty boys in the locker room. And she still had some pride left. Her sluttishness was not yet common knowledge at Greenwood, and she desperately wanted to keep it that way. Only another fifteen or so guys to fuck. So, in the end, she had to settle for sliding up and down on the now-slippery handle Barry had stuck in her pussy. By doing so and wriggling around as much as she could, she managed to bring on several small orgasms in the course of the three hours as the boys of the football team showered and changed, unsuspecting, all around her. At one point, she was afraid that her moans would give her away, but she was unable to stop herself from sliding up and down on the metal "cock". So instead, she stuck the second handle in her mouth and began to suck, thus muffling any noises she might have made. Three hours passed slowly... "Holy shit!" Stacy Richards squinted up at the surprised football players from inside the locker. Her cheerleading outfit was plastered to her sweat-soaked body. Her pussy, clearly displayed from in between her splayed thighs, sucked hungrily at the shiny metal cylinder as she slid herself up and down on it. Her hands clutched another metal cylinder - barbell handle, Biff realized - and slid it suggestively in and out of her mouth, between her shiny, wet lips. Her charm bracelet jingled quietly as she moved the metal handle up and down, all the while making quiet moaning sounds around the object in her mouth. Biff tore his eyes away from this incredible sight and turned to his equally stunned friends. "Guys," he chortled, "I give you... Stacy Richards. She's ours for the evening." "Jesus." They couldn't believe it. Stacy Richards; the Stacy Richards who had been flaunting herself in front of them from the sidelines these last three years; the Stacy Richards who had teased them, yet only gone out with the quarterbacks and other stars; the Stacy Richards of their dreams. Bill moved forward first, reaching into the locker. "Wait," Biff told him. Barry had given him some instructions. "Just wait a second." Biff moved forward and looked down on Stacy. She looked back up at him, tears of humiliation burning in her large, green eyes; tears of humiliation... and something else. He reached down and gently took away the barbell handle she had been sucking on. She moaned softly, but didn't resist as he slid it out from between her lips. "Stacy," he said quietly, "is there something you'd like to say?" Despite what Barry had told him, Biff still couldn't really believe she would say it. Once again, he was surprised. "Fuck me," she moaned, eyes closing as she ground the second handled deeper and deeper into her sopping pussy. "I need your cocks." This was enough for the guys, and they surged forward. Biff, however, held them back again. One more thing... "What do you say?" he asked the desperate girl. She looked up at him for a few moments, but then glanced away, unable to meet his eyes. "Please..." "What? I didn't hear you." Stacy looked up at him, lips parted. "Please," she said, her voice louder. "Please fuck me. I need you all; I n-need your cocks in me. Please fuck me... p-please shoot your sperm into me. Please..." And they did. Friday afternoon. 3:45 PM. The school cafeteria was almost empty, as most of the students at Greenwood had, typically, declined the opportunity to hang around the school after classes. The weekend beckoned, and, with the wonderful late spring weather, the beach was exerting its almost magnetic pull on the teenagers of Bakersville. The cafeteria was not, however, completely deserted. Three students sat, quietly talking, in a corner table. Gary, as usual, did most of the talking. He was also the one who handed out the latest round of money from the sale of pictures to various magazines. May had been a good month for them as far as picture sales went. Stacy had now unwittingly adorned the pages of over a dozen magazines across the country, with more to come. It was only a matter of time before she found out - before someone in Bakersville saw some of the pictures and spread the news - but they didn't really care. Their time with Stacy was nearly done anyway. The main cafeteria door opened and Karen walked in, followed closely by Ashley. The two girls had spent more and more time together over the last six weeks as Karen tightened her hold over the older girl. Like Stacy, Ashley was the victim of blackmail, and, as had been the case with Stacy, events had quickly moved beyond her control. Since the incident which put her in this vulnerable position in the first place, there had been any number of events which had deepened Karen's hold on her. All Ashley could think of was the end of the school year and freedom. All Karen could think of was how nice it was to have such a beautiful girl as Ashley as a personal slave, and how hard it would be to give it up. If she gave her up... "Wait here," Karen ordered, moving towards her three friends in the corner. Obediently, but not without a flash of anger, the tall brunette sat down on a bench near the door. "What's up?" Karen asked as she approached. "Neil said you wanted to meet." "Just the final plans for tomorrow night," Sharon told her. "The football party." She looked over at where Ashley sat, staring at the floor. "Everything's cool with her? Did she cause any problems?" Karen plopped herself down beside Neil. "No," she answered. "No problem. We'll be there." "Great," Sharon smiled. "I've got the perfect costume picked out; the guys are gonna love her." Neil chuckled at this, but Karen only frowned. "Listen," she said tentatively, "she's not gonna get... you know... hurt or anything like that?" "Ha," Neil laughed. "Just get her brains fucked out. That's all." "No," Karen ignored him. "I mean like, beaten, or... well... you know." "Huh uh," Sharon shook her head. "Nothing like that. It's just a party; the guys on the football team at BCN just want to celebrate the end of the season with a big blow out. Stacy was such a big hit the last time, they want her back again." Sharon looked over at Gary who didn't react. "I offered them Ashley as well because you said you wanted the money. They were willing to pay twice as much for two girls." Karen looked undecided. "There's not a problem with that, is there?" Gary asked. Karen looked over at Gary, meeting his intense stare for a few moments and then looking away. "No," she answered finally. "I just don't want her hurt. That's all." The table fell silent for a few moments. "OK then," Sharon stated. "That's settled. You'll meet us at my house at eight to get the girls dressed." "Yeah," Karen told her, getting to her feet. "We'll be there." This said, she turned and walked away towards the waiting Ashley. She walked straight past her and out the door. After a confused glance at the three teenagers in the corner, Ashley scrambled to her feet and followed her out. "What was that all about?" Neil muttered. "Dunno." Sharon shrugged her shoulders. Gary laughed. His two friends turned towards him. "It's spring," he explained, grinning. "Huh?" "You know," Gary insisted. "Spring. Birds and bees and that sort of thing." His two friends stared at him, blank looks on their faces. Gary sighed. "I think our Karen is falling in love..." When Peter Jenkins had called to invite her to a party up in Point Hope, Stacy had jumped at the opportunity. Peter was two years older than her, and had been a senior at Greenwood when Stacy had been in grade ten. They had gone steady for a little while - about nine dates altogether - but Stacy had eventually dumped him when the current captain of the football team had expressed an interest in her. She had never really seen much of Peter after that; she knew that he didn't get another girlfriend that year, but never really thought about it. In her mind, the split-up had been entirely natural, and, if it bothered him, well... he'd just have to grow up a bit, wouldn't he? Thus, when he called her up, she had not hesitated to accept his invitation. He had moved to the nearby town of Point Hope after graduation, where he worked as a clerk in a department store. For Stacy, it represented the chance to get away from her present situation; to go to a party with people who didn't know her and wouldn't force her to have sex with them. It sounded perfect. She even bought a new dress for the occasion. A sleeveless green dress with little ruffles on the shoulders. It matched her eyes perfectly, and, she thought, it made her look a bit like a little girl. She had made a mental note to do her hair up into a pony tail.It was the sort of look that used to drive the guys wild back when she had enjoyed that sort of teasing. Now, of course, she was obliged, as often as not, to put out, so the cock-teasing was not as much fun as it used to be. Not tonight, though. Tonight, she could be her old self. No one in Point Hope knew her or went to Greenwood. It would be just like old times. Peter showed up at 7:00 PM as planned. It was almost a two-hour drive to Point Hope, so he wanted to leave fairly early. She had been ready a good fifteen minutes before he arrived, but she still kept him waiting downstairs for almost half an hour; it was just like old times. He hadn't changed much. Always rather short, the last couple of years had seen his body fill out quite a bit until he was beginning to show a bit of pudginess. Obviously, the clerking job at the department store didn't involve much physical activity. Stacy felt herself sneering a bit as he led her out to his car - a somewhat battered Toyota Tercel; he was turning into a bit of a slob. The way he looked now, he couldn't be getting too much attention from any girls; that was probably why he had turned to his old high school girlfriend for a date at this party. No doubt he'd be so overwhelmed at having such a beautiful date as herself, he'd do whatever she wanted. What a schmuck! The drive up the coast to Point Hope was not particularly scenic. The only nice part of the drive came just as they passed by the Point Hope Maximum Security Penitentiary and crested the hill leading down into the town itself. Point Hope was a quiet little town nestled against the beach below the sandstone cliffs. The view from the top of the hill was little short of spectacular. Stacy, however, had seen it all before. Besides, she was having too much fun annoying Peter. The two-hour drive had been marked by small talk and long silences, but Stacy had quickly discovered that Peter was still easily upset by talk of their brief relationship a couple years earlier in high school. He had flushed an angry red when she had brought it up earlier in the trip, and had, since then, shut up almost entirely. Stacy, however, was enjoying herself immensely. She made a point of bringing it up as often as possible. By the time they arrived at the party, she was in a great mood, and Peter was quiet and sullen. Peter fought to remain patient as he led Stacy up the walk to the front door. This had better be worth it! He had received a phone call from a guy - some kid - at Greenwood, telling him something about Stacy's recent activities, and about her "weakness" for alcohol. The caller had suggested that once she had a couple of drinks in her, she would do anything, and that 'wouldn't it be nice if the two of them got back together for a date.' Peter wasn't sure if he believed him, but it was worth a try. Stacy had been an incredible bitch to him in high school, and any chance to get even was well worth attempting. Since the phone call, he had been experiencing this recurring fantasy... Stacy quickly realized that she was overdressed for the party. Most of the guests seemed to be blue-collar workers from a local fish packing plant; the majority of them wore nothing more fancy than jeans and t-shirts. Stacy was the only woman there in a dress. She was also the only one young enough to be in high school. Peter immediately brought her a glass of punch. When she sipped at it, Stacy discovered that it was a bit strong for her taste, but not too bad. She took another, longer, drink from the glass. The way things were shaping up at the party, a couple of drinks might well be called for. The whole idea of coming to this party with her ex-boyfriend was beginning to look like a bad idea. A little alcohol never hurt anyone; she finished the drink. Peter brought her another one and stood talking with her while she finished that one as well. He asked her to dance. At first, everything went well. The music was up-tempo and the dancing was fun, despite her inappropriate dress. After a while, though, she began to feel a bit queasy. It must have been the punch. In fact, she realized suddenly, if felt a little like... A new song started. A slow song. Peter pulled her close, into his chest; instinctively, she draped her bare arms over his shoulders and they began to dance, slowly revolving around the dance floor. As they danced, Stacy began to experience the now-familiar feeling of disassociation as the room started to spin. She closed her eyes and held on to Peter's shoulders, trying to fight off the dizziness. The drug! They had drugged her; Gary must have arranged this. Panicked, Stacy tried to disentangle herself, but she was unable to do so. Her limbs failed to respond properly, and it was all she could do to hold onto her dance partner in order to keep herself from sinking to the floor. Around and around they went, each revolution sending Stacy's perception spinning, until all she was aware of in the room was Peter. There was nothing else; just a blur of sound and a solid object she could hang onto. She felt the warm tingling begin in her groin. "Stacy..." A voice! Her eyes opened and struggled to focus on the face in front of her. Peter? Everything else was a blur. "Do you remember going out with me in high school?" Remember? Of course she remembered. Stacy nodded in the affirmative, still trying to focus. Why was he asking? The tingle in her groin grew stronger. "We went on nine dates," Peter murmured to her. "Nine dates..." Stacy felt one of his hands leave her shoulder, slide down the back of her dress and latch onto her ass. She felt that she should make some objection, but... "And all I got was one kiss," the voice continued. "One kiss..." The blonde teenager tried to focus on what Peter was saying, but the hand on her butt was making concentration difficult. She felt the hand pull away... "One kiss..." ...and begin pulling the zipper of her dress down her back. She tried to wriggle free, but her arms remained wrapped around Peter's shoulders. "I don't think that's fair. Do you?" "N-no." Stacy discovered that she could speak, although even her own voice seemed distant to her. The zipper was now all the way down, and she could feel the cool air of the room on the small of her back. The feelings of arousal increased, spreading up from her crotch into her belly. Involuntarily, she ground her lower body against Peter as the dance continued. "So," Peter continued, "we're going to work through those dates now. All nine of them. As they should have been." Stacy tried to shake her head, no. Not here; she wanted him to take her to a bedroom or something... do what he wanted there, but not here. Not in front of... "First date," he whispered, his tongue licking out at her ear. "A kiss would be nice." Retreating from her ear, he brought his lips down against hers. She moaned softly, parting her lips, but he quickly pulled away. That felt so good, but not here. Please, not here. "Second date," he continued. One of the straps of the dress slid off a shoulder. She tried to shrug it back on, but it just slipped further down her arm. "Maybe some tongue." This time, he thrust his tongue into her willing mouth. She kissed back, unable to do anything else as a wave of lust surged through her body. Oh god... The kiss broke, but the dance continued. The dance continued through the "third date", where he copped a feel of her breasts through the fabric of her dress. Her nipples hardened immediately when he ran his fingers over them. On the "fourth date", he removed her bra, unclipping it from behind her back and sliding it off. By now, her dress had slid down off the other shoulder, uncovering her back all the way down to the top of her ass and leaving her breasts partly exposed... More of the same on the "fifth date". Some heavy necking while mauling at her now almost-naked breasts. By now, Stacy was panting with lust, all thought of where she was and who she was with having fled her mind. All that mattered was... The dance. She missed what he said on the "sixth date", but by the end of the "seventh", she was grinding her crotch against him with abandon... "Eight date," he panted, hoarse. "It's time you felt my cock." She didn't need to be told twice. Groaning with lust, she disentangled one arm from around his neck and reached down to his crotch. With an ease born of much practice, she pulled down the zipper and slid his cock free of his pants. It was already damp and rigid... "Ninth date," he gasped. "You need to be fucked." He looked at her. "Beg for it." "Please fuck me," she moaned. "I need to be fucked. Please put your lovely cock into me, Peter. Fill me up. Please..." Peter could take no more. He had been dreaming of this moment for over two years. With a cry, he shoved her back against the wall, pulled one of her legs up, and shoved his cock straight into her dripping pussy. The dress, bunched up at the waist to allow him access to her pussy, fell forward, abandoning any pretense of covering her breasts. Stacy didn't care. Holding onto his shoulders, she wrapped both legs around Peter's ass and fucked him right back as he drove her again and again against the wall. She drooled and slobbered and squirmed out her lust, all the time moaning and crying for him to fuck her harder. He obliged... The last trembling vestige of orgasm rippled though her beaten body. Groggy, she looked up from the floor where she sat, propped against the wall. Just as she did so, a flash went off... and then another. Dazed, the blonde teenager looked around.She was lying, practically naked, against the wall, her green dress a shapeless mess around her waist. A group of people - the guests at the party - were standing around, looking down on her and laughing. A few of them had cameras and were using them. She heard the words "slut" and "whore" in the conversation. Were they talking about her? Just as had happened before, the orgasm seemed to have burned away the effects of the drugs, leaving Stacy clear-headed and sober. Sobbing with embarrassment, she stumbled to her feet, her breasts bobbing merrily, clutching her dress around her as the crowd laughed. Another flash went off. The dress didn't seem torn, and she quickly had it back over her breasts, but she was unable to zip it up on her own. Eyes downcast, she pushed her way through the crowd, looking for... "Peter!" He was standing with a couple of guys near the entrance to the kitchen, drinking a beer. "What... what are you..." He looked over at her and smirked. "I'd heard that you had become quite a slut since my days at Greenwood. I just wanted to see if it was true." Stacy stopped talking and began to cry. Yet another flash went off. "Stop it," she cried, spinning around to strike out at whoever was taking the picture. The blow missed, however, and she succeeded only in letting the front of her dress flop forward again. Two pictures were taken of her re-exposed breasts before she was able to cover up. Furious, she turned back to Peter. "Take me home," she ordered. "Now." Peter just laughed. "Are you kidding? Get home yourself, you slut." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ten-dollar bill. "Take this," he said, handing it to her. "There's a bus depot just down the block. There are buses to Bakersville every couple of hours." Stunned, she held the ten-dollar bill in her hand, staring at him. Eventually, she turned and stumbled through the laughing crowd to the door, still holding her unzipped dress around her. "And Stacy," Peter called out from behind her. She turned; maybe he was going to give her a ride after all. "You were worth every penny." The crowd roared with laughter as Stacy, tears running down her face, ran out into the cool night air...

Part Nine-A

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/9270.txt

Ann Douglas

The Speeding Ticket

"Shit!" Janet cursed as she noticed the flashing red lights in her Corvette's rearview mirror. Eight o'clock on a Sunday morning, not a car on the road, and some dumb-ass highway patrolman had to clock her doing better than 80. "I'm fucked!" she thought as she pulled the car over to the side in response to a quick burst of the police cruiser's siren. "One more moving violation and there goes my license." If only she had left school last night when she was supposed to, then she would've had no problem making it to her parents' house for Sunday brunch. But no, she had to go to the party at the Alpha Delta House and get ripped. She had awoken about 6:30 A.M. with both a frat boy laying next to her in bed and a colossal headache. She'd quickly showered and dressed, hoping to make up time on the road to avoid another of her father's lectures. A lecture about family responsibilities would be nothing now. If she got her license suspended again, he'd promise to take away the car she'd gotten for high school graduation last year. As she watched the state trooper exit the cruiser, a more terrifying thought ran through her. What if he ran a breath test on her? With all she had to drink last night, she might not be able to pass. That would get her license more than suspended. She had to get out of this ticket. Janet ignored the trooper's approach and quickly moved to the glove compartment for her papers, determined to be the very model of cooperation and sweetness. "License, please, young lady," said a deep masculine voice. With a bright smile on her face, Janet turned to face the officer, papers in hand. Her mouth dropped open when she got her first good look at him. Behind the mirrored sunglasses and tan uniform was a tall, muscular black man - dark as the midnight sky. "Do you know how fast you were going..." He said as he looked at the license "Miss Rabinowitz," he read off the license. "Too fast, I guess..." Janet said in her most apologetic voice. "I guess with no one else on the road, it's too easy to push it a little too hard." In return, all she got was a little grunt as he examined her papers. She continued to smile, pushing her big breasts into view to try and distract him from the possibility that she might've been drinking. "Any reason why I shouldn't give you a ticket?" the trooper asked. Janet looked up at him and smiled. "Maybe because you've got a big heart?" She suggested. "Did you say a big hard?" He grinned, his white teeth forming a wide smile. "Maybe," Janet grinned back, encouraged that she might be able to work her way out of the ticket after all. "Young lady," The trooper chuckled. "Are you trying to corrupt a police officer?" "I'd sure as hell like to give it a try," She purred. With that, she reached out the window and traced the outline of his cock through his snug uniform trousers. As she did, she ran her wet tongue across her red lips, giving no doubt as to her offer. After stroking it a few times, she could feel it growing harder. "Well, I'd really like to accommodate you," He said as she cupped his balls. "But I'm going to have to run your license through the computer first, just to be sure." "Damn..." Janet screamed in her mind as the trooper walked back to the police car. "One look at my record and my driving days are history." After a few minutes of sitting in the front seat of his cruiser and working the small computer terminal inside, the trooper returned. "Looks like you have some good luck this morning after all," He said with a broad smile. "The computer's down, and I couldn't run your license." "Oh, that's too bad," Janet gushed as she could feel his eyes fixed on the deep crevice between her breasts. "So I guess I have to assume that your record's clean and proceed accordingly. In a first-time offense like this, it's the officer's discretion as to whether he issues a ticket or a warning." "Oh, really..." Janet asked. "So maybe we should pull off the main road a little, and we can discuss it better," He said, indicating a small side road about a thousand yards ahead. "Lead on," Janet replied happily. Less than a minute later, both cars were safely hidden from the view of the main road by a large clump of trees. Janet quickly met the trooper as he exited his cruiser, and before he could say a word, she had pulled down his zipper and pulled out his large black cock. "Christ...it's so big!" Janet exclaimed as she pulled it free. "It must be almost 9 inches." "More than you can handle, little white girl?" He asked sarcastically. "The cock I can't handle doesn't exist..." Janet said confidently as she dropped to her knees and licked the head of his cock. "By the way, what's your name?" "Jerry," came the answer. "Well, get a good grip on that car, Jerry, 'cause I'm going to blow a lot more than your mind." Jerry leaned back against the car as the warm wetness of Janet's mouth engulfed his cock, taking in six of his nine inches. Her hand reached up beneath the dark shaft and cupped his balls, each the size of a small plum. With each slurping thrust, she tried to take a little more of his massive rod inside her mouth. If was the first black cock she had ever sucked, but she knew right now it wouldn't be the last. "You got a hot mouth, girl," The trooper said as he matched Janet's rhythm and began to face-fuck her. "Hmmmm" was all the answer she could manage as he drove his cock into her throat. He cupped his large dark hands behind her long blonde hair as he thrusted again and again, until Janet's mouth began to hurt with the pounding. "Damn you rich white bitches are fine cocksuckers," Jerry said as she pulled his hard tool from her mouth. "Now I want a piece of that white pussy." Janet had originally only planned to give the officer a quick blowjob to get out of the ticket. A few minutes sucking on that massive rod quickly changed that. She had to have that black cock inside her. "Give it to me," She said as she changed places against the car. "Fill my hot pussy with that big black cock!" Without effort, Jerry lifted her onto the hood of the car and lifted her skirt. He just pushed her panties aside and rammed his cock inside her. Janet gasped at the sudden entry. As quick as he had entered her, he withdrew and then repeated his thrust. He grabbed the cheeks of her ass and began to frantically pump her. "Oh God...oh God...oh God..." Janet panted as again and again the dark pole filled her white cunt. Jerry was forceful to the point of being a little brutal, and Janet was loving it. So different from those wimpy college boys. Jerry reached up and pulled open her blouse, exposing her bra-less breasts. His mouth quickly closed on them, biting hard down on the nipples. And still his thrusts quickened. The more excited he got, the faster he pumped. Each stroke was now enough to lift her off the hood of the patrol car. Janet was in heaven; she had never been fucked so good. Small shudders pulsed within her, heralding the awesome climax she knew she would soon reach. Suddenly, after a few more powerful strokes, Jerry abruptly withdrew from her. He reached up and pulled her off the hood. "What the fuck did you stop for..." Janet cried out, "I was almost ready to cum." "Not yet, bitch," The powerful black man said as he spun her around and flattened her against the police car door in what was universally known in police circles as "assuming the position." "There's still one hole I haven't tried yet." "Oh no..." Janet snapped. "Nothing goes up my ass, I don't do that Greek shit." "You'll do it this time, cunt," Jerry said as he reached down and placed the pussy-cum-soaked head of his cock against her tiny asshole. "You see, I lied before when I said the computer was down. I saw your record - one more speeding conviction and you can kiss that pretty car over there goodbye. Little Miss Rabinowitz will be taking the bus." "Shit..." Janet thought, "She was trapped." Without warning, Jerry entered her virgin hole. The cum from her pussy helped as a lubricant, but it still hurt like hell. Fire filled her bottom as he shoved all nine inches inside her.Then he began to repeat the rhythm of earlier, and with each stroke, her sphincter muscles relaxed a little bit more. Pressing her hard against the car door, he grabbed her tits and squeezed them hard. His panting increased, as did his gyrations. Then, with a painful thrust, he began to send a steady stream of hot cum into her tight ass. Now, as his cock emptied of his man-juice, he put as much force as he could into each pumping action, repeating it as fast as he could. Stretching her no longer virgin ass to its limits. Then, as fast as he had entered her, he pulled out, again spinning her about. Putting his large arms around her, he pulled her close and kissed her, forcefully, giving her no chance to deny his tongue entry. Far from denying it, Janet sucked it eagerly, giving hers in return. She had never felt so satisfied. They quickly cleaned themselves with water and towels from the trunk of the police cruiser. Janet made herself as presentable as she could, as she still had to be at her parent's by 11:00. "Oh shit, it's almost 10:00, I'll never make it now," she cried out, glancing at her watch. Jerry just laughed and told her to follow him back to the main road. With lights flashing and sirens wailing, Jerry led her on an 80 mph dash to her home. He pulled away about a half mile before her destination, and she pulled into the driveway at 10:55. Her parents were happy to see her, of course, but were a little confused when she said she would rather eat standing at the patio high table than on one of the hard-bottomed chairs. College certainly gave you peculiar customs, they thought.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/6854.txt

Lord Malinov

Dogged

"Kevin!" My eyes opened reluctantly. I tried to read the red glow of my clock. Someone banged on the door, downstairs. "You bastard!" It sounded as if the woman was hitting the door with a crowbar. I found my glasses and winced as I realized what time it was. "Fucking asshole," she screamed. I pulled on a pair of shorts and went to the window. "Kevin!" she screamed in a long wail that betrayed both fury and pain. "Kevin!" I pushed the window open. "Hey," I called down. "Kevin's not here." "I'll fucking kill him," she shouted. I didn't recognize Debbie at first. She had always been really quiet, when she came by the house with Kevin. It's funny how different people can sound when they're drunk and mad. When she stepped away from the door to shoot her anger at my window, there was no mistaking the bright flame of her hair and her soft pretty face. I've said it before; Kevin gets girls he doesn't deserve. Nevertheless, I was a little glad when I recognized the raving lunatic as Debbie. "Hey, Debbie," I said, emphasizing my weariness. "Come back on Monday. You can get in line to kill him then." "I fucking will! The fucker left me waiting all fucking night." Then Debbie screamed and stumbled on the step down from the porch. A light came on at the house across the street. "Great," I said to myself. Miss Blanche would have had the police here in about three minutes, once she realized it was our house causing the trouble. "Debbie," I called down in a hushed voice. "I'll be down in a second. Just keep cool." "Kevin," she moaned out loudly. I stubbed my toe on the leg of my desk as I tried to get to the front door. "Fuck," I muttered, hopping down the stairs as I rubbed my injured foot. I could deal with Debbie. I didn't want cops dropping by at two thirty in the morning. I unlocked the door and Debbie fell in, collapsing onto the linoleum. "Oh, Brian," she said as I helped her stand up. "I'm sorry about this. He's really not here?" "He flew out this morning. Business, I think." "Liar," she said sharply, her gaze suddenly fierce. "I . . . ," I started, shrinking back from the accusation. "No," said Debbie, sounding sorry again. She walked into the living room and sat down on the tweed sofa with a sigh. Her black skirt rode high as she slid lower, exposing a generous view of her white satin panties. I coughed and went into the kitchen to start some coffee. "Kevin's my problem," she said. "I won't make you rat on your brother." "Hell, he's been my problem longer than he's been yours. I gave up protecting him a long time ago. He told me it was business, but he'd lie to me just as quick as he'd lie to you. He's a real dog." "I know he's with that bitch, Sherry." Something told me she was right, but it didn't matter. If Kevin wasn't with Sherry, it only meant he was dogging some other girl. Picking one of his women for jealous rage would seriously miss the point. As far as I could tell, Kevin didn't care about any of them. All he wanted to do was shoot and score. The smell of brewing coffee made me nauseous. "You want some coffee?" I asked. "How about some wine?" Debbie replied sleepily. I turned off the coffee maker and pulled a bottle of Chablis from the fridge. All our glasses were dirty, so I poured two coffee mugs of the purple wine. "You can sleep here," I said, handing her the mug. "I'm not going to let you drive if you drink that." Debbie smiled. "Brian," she said seductively, holding the cup up to knock mine. "You dog." "Runs in the family, I guess." "One of you is adopted," Debbie said. "Or you took the good genes and left Kevin the bad ones." "Kevin's just like Dad," I said. "Figures," Debbie said. "My father . . ." 'The thing I don't get is, you're a bright girl, beautiful too." "Brian," she purred. I took a drink of wine to steel my nerves. "You know Kevin's a dog. He's lied to you a million times . . ." "Really?" asked Debbie. Her tone was angry, but her body seemed to have something else in mind. I could clearly see the puff of an aroused pussy creasing her immodest panties. Hints of stiff nipples appeared in the cotton blouse she wore. "Why do you put up with his shit?" I asked abruptly. "He's so sweet when he talks. Even when I know he's lying, I want to believe him and so I just do. Then, when he goes too far and I decide to ignore him or hit him or whatever I do, he turns up the charm and it's like a lullaby, and the madness goes away and then he fucks the rage out of me. He's like a drug. I know it's killing me, but, goddammit, give me another hit." As Debbie spoke, she rubbed her pussy gently. All I was wearing was a pair of nylon shorts and my prick quickly threatened to pop into view. I tried to adjust myself as I sat on the easy chair, but with every brush of my fingers, my cock leapt higher. Linda, the closest thing I had to a girlfriend at that point, had been out of town for two months. I was hurting to get laid and Debbie was sticking needles in my wound. "Forget him," I said after clearing my throat. "You deserve better than my little brother is ever going to give you." "Yeah," Debbie said, her voice low. Her right hand still fiddled with the fabric between her thighs. "What about you?" she asked. "I'd just use you and make you miserable. It runs in the family. I'm twice the dog he is." "I don't believe you," Debbie said in a whisper. Her eyes were closed. I sat quietly, nursing my mug of wine, daring myself to stand up. Sexual hunger was making my heart pound like the timpani in a bad orchestra. Debbie's fingers stopped their small circles, and rested quietly on the crest of her barely shrouded secrets. I stared, imagining, unable to help myself. "Can I get you a blanket?" I finally asked. Debbie didn't answer. I thought about getting up, but instead I fell asleep. I don't know how long I slept, but it was still dark when I awoke. Debbie was sucking on my dick. I lifted my hips to push myself deeper into her warm throat and then I opened my eyes. Her tongue tickled my stiffness as she slipped rhythmically from bottom to top and back again. Waves of pleasure poured over me. I wove my fingers through her thick mane, letting my hands follow the bob of her head, up and down. "Debbie?" I suddenly asked, realizing by pieces what was happening. "Mmmm," she moaned, still playing my flute. "Wicked girl," I chastised her lovingly. She tickled my balls and then pushed my cock deep. "Are you sure?" Debbie halted the wet suckle. "Don't you want me?" she asked, coyly. She sank my sensitive prick back into her moist mouth. "Yeah," I said slowly. "I just. . ." All at once, Debbie stopped. She stepped back into the soft beam of moonlight streaming through the front window. I tried to catch my breath while I resisted the urge to leap up and take her. Debbie peeled off her tight blouse. Her tits bounced as she let her shirt fall. My cock throbbed with a carnivore's hunger at the sight of her big liquid breasts. "Wow," I said. Debbie smiled and unzipped her skirt. The black cloth hit the floor in a puddle. "You're just going to fuck me," she said. "That's all I want from you." I nodded my head, mesmerized by the shadowy vision of her naked body. "Please," she said. "I just want you to fuck me." "Okay," I said, at a complete loss for words. Debbie came over and took hold of my hard-on. "Promise?" she asked. "Yes," I said as she guided me into the hot pit of her cunt. "Good," she said, thrusting hard against my pelvis, driving me deep inside. "I was so angry," Debbie said, her titties bouncing steadily. "I have to fuck." I squeezed her full round ass. "Your dickhead brother taught me this." She bit her lip and pinched a nipple hard. "So beautiful," I said, trying to hold my excitement while I watched her ride me. "Call me your fuck bitch," she said. "Fuck bitch," I said softly. "I'm your fuck bitch," she said, anger raging in her voice. My cock shot straight into her. "Fuck bitch!" I screamed. Debbie shuddered wildly at my thrust, as though an electric shock had taken hold of her cunt and she flailed in the ripping current. I went mad. I came hard but wouldn't stop fucking, driving hard to keep my cock fueled. Debbie whimpered, collapsed in tremors of ecstasy, but I turned her over and started pounding her hard from behind.I slapped her white bottom as I fucked her, called her my slut and my hot fucking cunt. Debbie screamed in rages of passion until I wondered if the cops wouldn't be showing up soon. Finally, I pulled my hammer free and spent a thick load in her mouth. My memories of the scene are vague, but that's what I remember, anyway. When I woke up again, the sun shone brightly. Debbie still lay wrapped around me. I kissed her cheek and pulled myself free. She hardly stirred. I pulled on my shorts and started a new pot of coffee. "Oh, God," she groaned as I set the table for breakfast. "Good morning, Debbie," I said. "Want some coffee?" "Oh, wow," she said as she looked for her clothes. "Yeah, I guess so." "I was getting ready to make omelets, but I have grapefruit or bagels or cereal, if you prefer." "You're so sweet," she said, pulling on her panties. "I can't believe you." "And you're beautiful," I said, bringing her a mug of steaming coffee. "No," Debbie said with a blush, pushing her straggled mane of hair away from her face. "You don't have to do this," she said, sitting at the table. She took a sip. "I mean, I didn't mean to...." "Look. I know we didn't plan this, but I've had a crush on you for a long while, Debbie," I confessed. "After last night, I'm going to do my best to keep you. If you don't mind my trying." "Brian," she said sweetly. I blushed and sat next to her. Her bright green eyes opened wide as she looked at me, and then she leaned forward to kiss me. A sultry smile spoke volumes of encouragement, and my heart skipped a beat. I tickled her thigh absentmindedly. "But what about Kevin?" she asked. "I'm kicking him out. He's behind in his rent anyway. Besides, there are always girls trying to bust down the door and kill him. I don't need anymore of that. He can go live with Mom. She's used to that shit." "But you said you only wanted to use me," said Debbie with a smirk. "I lied," I said. "I can't help it. Runs in the family. And I have to warn you; I'll probably lie again." "You dog," she said, rubbing the crease in her panties. "God help me, but I do love it when you lie to me." "Well, I'll never be faithful," I said as I took her in my arms. "And there is no way I'm ever going to love you." "Now don't make me mad," she said, pulling me closer. "You bad, bad dog."

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/14200.txt

LeAnna

Psion

"She has potential." The white doctors surrounded the small teenager who was laid across a sterilized metal table, making notes on their clipboards and adjusting the machines that recorded her progress. One pushed his glasses over the bridge of his nose and remarked, "I still think we should perfect this technology to work without a human." Another looked at him, bemused. "Until we can find a way to translate the human mind into a code that a computer can comprehend, we will have to do it this way. The only thoughts we can get are the top thoughts, the clearest ones, the ones that are voiced aloud in their minds." "But..." "Hush! Yes, it's very precarious, but all of the living ones except one are dead now. The living ones were too dangerous. Not controlled enough. This way, we can turn the psionic abilities on and off." The doctor with the glasses frowned. "Unless we lose control. You have to understand that we're dealing with human minds here. In every instance in history that the mind has been underestimated -- Hitler, for example -- we have been strongly defeated. I just want us to remember that and to keep our goals realistic." One of the monitors started beeping. A tired, pale nurse glanced up at the doctors as she flipped it off, the look on her face somewhere between grave and grateful. "She's conscious." The teenager started to open her eyes slowly, and then jerked awake with a start, sitting straight up on the table with a gasp. Her head was reverberating with voices, strange voices, voices that she did not understand. She understood. But it was too much. "Quick, turn the chip off!" beep beep beep beep -- "Her mind is overloading --" beepbeepbeepbeep "I can't! Computers are going down..." "TURN THE FUCKING THING OFF!" -- She -- oh, so many voices -- *** "We've turned off the microchip for now, Raira. When you passed out, your temperature had shot up to 102 degrees and your EEG was going crazy. Now, as you know..." Raira stared dumbly at the desk the tall ebony Baig sat behind. The chip was turned off, but the voices hadn't gone away. And there were voices now, muted ones, telling her to get away from this Baig, to escape while she could. He felt dirty to her. She wrapped her arms around her stomach and lifted her knees up, holding herself. Her eyes were still reeling from the shock of the sterilized white and silver of the medical center, and the cold, bright room she sat in at the moment wasn't much better. Her head was almost empty now. The explosion of noise was gone again, and Raira hoped deep in her heart that it would never return, but she knew it would return. She knew what they were going to make her do and what they wanted her for. She knew she was the first in a long line of intergalactic spies. "You're the first intelligent being we've done this experiment on, and I think we overestimated the power of your mind." Raira opened her mouth, her dry, cracked lips creaking as she started to speak, her voice barely above a whisper. "Why me?" "Excuse me?" The man said, leaning closer to her. Raira spoke louder, her voice squeaking and cracking. "Why did you choose me? What did I do? I've never broken a Galactic law before, sir, it was the very first time and I hadn't eaten in days" -- The man cut her off abruptly. "This is not a punishment, Raira. This has nothing to do with your stealing provisions, although it did help us to get in touch with you with the cooperation of your government. Rather, this is a privilege. All of us working here at the medical center would be delighted to have this kind of technology working within us. You were chosen because you are an orphaned Earth female, so you have no emotional connections with..." Raira cut him off just as abruptly as he had. "Because I have no feelings? Because I'm not a Baig? Because I'm a freak? Or maybe because you thought I had nothing to lose?" "Listen, Raira, I'm here to help you. Orphans have all but been eliminated from Earth in the last millennium. You were a rarity, you beat the odds, Raira, by millions of trillions to one. Why are you convinced this is an elaborate setup?" She grew angry, her cheeks turning scarlet and her eyes flashing harshly. "Because it is! You're just using me as a fucking spy because you killed every fucking psion you had left"-- "Someone get the nurses in here, please," the man spoke calmly into a microphone. Raira started screaming louder and louder, screaming to be heard, telling them about what she knew, what she knew about them, what she knew about herself. Her final scream before they dragged her out of the door was, "I know what you're trying to do to me! I know you killed those psions!" The Baig rested his chin on his hand, his brow furrowing. As soon as the door shut behind the hysterical Raira, he picked up the microphone again. "How the fuck did she know?" "Beats me. We'd better watch her -- she isn't reacting the way we had anticipated," a disembodied voice replied from the microphone. He chewed on his lip for a few seconds, and then slammed his fist on the desk. The desk shook underneath the wrath of the Baig. "We've got too much at stake. We'll have no choice if she doesn't start responding positively. There are other Earth test subjects." The voice crackled in the air. "But, sir, we've only got a few days left. If we were to eliminate her, now would be the ideal time, sir." He stood up and paced the office floor. "No, I don't think so," he mused softly, almost to himself. "Sir?" "We'll keep her." *** She blinked as the artificial morning light seeped into her eyes. She'd been asleep again. She could still hear a faint trace of the voices echoing in her head, and she turned her head to the side of the pillow, trying to block them out again. She knew it wouldn't work. She hiccuped softly as a tear traced a path down her cheek, and she wrapped her arms around herself, curling into a protective fetal ball. She was a psion now. THEY controlled her, by a tiny microchip that was implanted just above her right ear. THEY wanted her to spy. But it wouldn't work, she wouldn't tell them anything she heard, and they would kill her, marking off another failure at getting the subjects of their totalitarian government to work against each other. Each other was all they had left. Worlds were shattered, in ruins, or uninhabitable for the next few half-lives. The Baig had taken over the Earth government when the humans had finally accepted them, and made a Galactic government that supposedly involved all the races in the universe. But all the races knew that you wouldn't get anywhere in politics if you didn't go along with the Baig, if you didn't pretend to love the Baig, if you didn't pretend that you weren't feeling disgust and nausea every time you looked at their pitch-black skin and gazed at the greenish tint of their teeth. But most of all, if you pretended that you didn't notice what the Baig was doing to the livelihood of the other races, if you didn't notice the Evil that radiated out of them, then you might get somewhere in your life. Otherwise, be eliminated. They'd almost succeeded in ruining the galaxy. They were close to succeeding now, and Raira was damned if she would be a tool. She'd known about their practices ever since she was a little child, when Earth's psions started disappearing one by one. Raira's mother had been one. "They're killing us, Raira," her mama had whispered softly as she gazed out the window to an Earth that was not yet ruined by radioactivity. "They're plucking us out, one by one, to try and get us to spy for them. When they fail, they kill us. I can hear the other ones screaming in my head. I'm next." Raira, not understanding, had buried her head in her mama's breast and wailed her hunger. The cool breeze lifted the window's curtains up, billowing into the kitchen, and Raira's mother started to weep with frustration and sadness as soon as she inhaled the fresh night air she knew she'd never smell again. Raira had never understood.She hadn't understood even when they had taken her mama in the middle of the night. They'd done it silently, and they'd thought they were unheard, but Raira, a small child of seven, had woken up and felt the bond connecting her mama and herself being torn savagely, being pulled and stretched before it finally snapped and her mama was gone. She was alone then, truly alone, as so few people left on Earth were alone. She spent the next few days wandering the streets, crying for her mama to come back to her. Strangers would look at her and tsk-tsk sadly, remarking on what a shame it was, and whispered cruel assumptions to each other about who her mama must have been to be so rudely taken away from this baby. She'd been a street child ever since. Well, now she understood. The chip had woken up a part of her that was asleep deep inside her, had stirred it and nudged it, and suddenly the dormant volcano became active with an explosion. How could she hear? The chip wasn't on. The sterilized doorknob turned. Raira's head snapped to the side, her eyes narrowing in hate as she watched the knob slowly turn until the door clicked and swung open. The Baig was back, medical clipboard in one hand, a tranquilizing laser in another. He made a hand signal as soon as the door closed and locked, and with a burst of activity, her mind exploded. "Are you calm now, Raira? You had a bit of an episode there. Now, I'm here to explain to you what your next mission is to be." Raira turned her back to him, refusing to look, trying to block out the darkness that invaded her mind. He ignored the motion and continued to talk, ignoring her. "As you know, you can now read minds, basically. You can probe into them, take a look around. It's kind of like breaking into a computer system. Some minds will be simpler, some will be harder." He took a seat on Raira's hard mattress. She recoiled away from him. His evil slunk around the room, moving with him, with his air. He looked straight into Raira's eyes and smiled. "Read my mind." She shuddered. "I would rather not. I can smell your aura from across the room." His smile darkened. "Read my mind, Raira." He lifted his hand slightly, letting her see the tranquilizer gun. She closed her eyes and WISHED, as hard as she could, WISHED to all the gods of good and evil alike, that she wasn't here right now, being forced to read a Baig's mind. "You won't be able to get in, Raira. Our minds are too strong for you." She slowly let her concentration focus into a ball, and then set it to float free towards him when it was large enough. She shivered as the ball bumped into a turgid, tangled mass of confusion and silence alike. She turned her concentration in another direction, where it met the same wall. She cried aloud in frustration, and PUSHED as hard as she could, PUSHED into him with all her mind's strength and then broke through his barrier with blinding speed -- He gasped and his hands shot up to grip his head in pain, and the last thing Raira saw before she passed out was the gun lifting up to point at her -- *** "All right, Raira, are we ready to discuss your assignment?" Raira glared at him, silent. Her chip was turned off now, and her own psionic powers were still much weaker. She could still hear muted voices echoing in her head. They didn't know what happened to her, didn't know that the chip and the procedure and the whole thing had woken up the power she'd inherited from her mother. She just had to get stronger. She could overtake them. She nodded slowly, peering at him through slitted eyes. He sighed, and leaned back. "You've been quite a difficult case, Raira. You should realize the gravity of this situation. The future of the Galaxy rests on your shoulders..." _I shrug,_ Raira thought to herself. "Now, this is your assignment. Tonight, you are to attend the speech of the Galaxy Prime Minister. As you know, he is up for re-election. All you have to do is sit and listen with your mind. Probe around a little bit. Is that okay, Raira?" _As if I had a choice._ "Yes. That's fine," Raira said in a low growl. The Baig looked slightly surprised at the malice in her voice. "Raira, we know you can be a sweet girl. Why don't you be a little more nice to me in the future?" "Because you speak to me as if I was a child, and then expect to use me as a spy. Because you're Evil," she replied in a whisper. He sighed and stood up. He offered his hand for a handshake, and she turned her head to look the other way. He left the room. *** She ran her hands over her dress uneasily, trying to get used to the feel of the fine fabric stretched across her skin and of her inner thighs rubbing together. She'd never worn a dress before, at least, not since her mama died. The one she wore now was a fantasy dress, the kind she'd only seen in holograms of fashion shows and prestigious balls. It was a dark shade of brown in a shimmering fabric that caught the light every time she moved. The dress had no sleeves or straps, and Raira still had no clue as to how it stayed on her body, defying the laws of gravity. She supposed it was her breasts holding the dress up, the slope of her mammaries creating an arch for the dress to rest upon. The bodice was cinched tight around her, and loosened considerably at her hips, sweeping to the floor in a graceful waterfall of silky fabric, flowing down her body as smoothly as if she was a tall whiskey glass. Raira turned around to face the mirror, shutting her eyes tightly. Finally, she pried open a reluctant eyelid to gaze at her reflection, and both her eyes widened with surprise. She looked nothing like the street rat she'd grown up as. Her body looked voluptuous and curvaceous, even though Raira had gone hungry most of her life. She supposed she'd eaten more in the last month than she thought, for now her curves were filled out and she was rather buxom. She blushed when she saw the prominent way her nipples poked through the fabric, and moved her hands over them, trying to get the nubs to deflate. Her hair was swept up in an old-fashioned bun and pinned in place with a diamond-studded hairpiece that she could see when she lifted a small hand mirror behind her and used the mirror in front to look at the one in back. Her hair was woven in auburn waves that the dress showed off beautifully, and in front, a single wisp of red hair cascaded down the side of her pale, freckled face. Raira looked closely at her face. She hadn't seen many mirrors in her life, but she was certain that this wasn't how she normally looked. Her clear, green eyes were surrounded by a smoky brown, and when she looked especially close she could see that the lashes were dyed a dark brown also. Her skin shimmered slightly in the light, and she could feel a powder of some sort brushed across her skin. Her lips were full and pouting, and while that was natural, the light bronze shade resting on them was not. Raira turned around and took an unsteady step toward the door. Her ankle wobbled from side to side, and she almost fell when her ankle buckled and pitched her off of the side of her heels. She leaned down and sighed, slipping the heel back onto her foot. She stood tall now, her jaw set. The doorknob turned with clicking sounds. "Raira? Your escort is waiting." The small, mousy nurse who had peeked her head in the doorway of the classy bathroom had looked bored. When she'd caught a glimpse of Raira, her eyes widened. "My, Raira, you do look nice!" Raira blushed, momentarily forgetting why she was all made up. She remembered herself, then, and squared her shoulders resolutely. She strode out of the room, still a bit surprised by the unfamiliar feel of the silky material swishing around her legs, caressing her thighs and kissing her ankles. She felt her body start to swing from side to side as she walked, her hips swinging out against the restraints of the fabric and coming back in a gentle circle. It was an involuntary reaction to the way the dress behaved on her body. A handsome gentleman waited by the entrance to the ballroom where the nominations for presidency would be held in. A shock of noise slammed into Raira's ear, and her hands moved up quickly to block her ears from the sudden noise, but the noise didn't stop. She swallowed hard and grimaced as she glanced around at the thick crowd that was gathered in the hall and ballroom. He looked at her curiously, his chocolate eyes questioning her own, and she smiled shakily at him, standing awkwardly. He offered his arm. "Oh!" Raira made a face and slipped hers through his. She wondered what other basic rules of etiquette she would forget on this night. He looked almost as nervous as she did, and she hesitated for a moment, wondering if it was morally wrong, before probing into the surface of his mind, poking into his thoughts without any resistance. She was shocked. The surface of his mind was uncomfortable and warm and sticky, and unquestionably erotic. She probed deeper, wondering at the source of his arousal. He looked over at her uneasily, and she felt a new flood of arousal. It was she who turned him on! She chuckled to herself, feeling a bit guilty for finding humor in this man's discomfort, but she had to admit it was funny. _I guess that makeup and dress really did work,_ she thought, _because he's about ready to jerk off._ _God, I'd just die to have her fucking my cock..._ the thought was clear and passed through the mental link like electricity, clear even through all the mental noise of the crowd. She blushed a deep shade of red when she realized that he was thinking it, and another thought shot to her mind, but she blocked it out before it made it all the way. She wanted to enjoy her evening, and his thoughts were starting to make her uncomfortable. *** "How is it going?"Well, at least we don't have to worry about sexual tension." The voice was sarcastic, with a hint of laughter in it. "Good. Keep monitoring her." * * * Raira crossed her legs as they sat and pulled out the fabric that was between her legs. She looked around at the inventory of people, Baig and Earthling alike. Rich, influential people who, together, cooperated to rule the Galaxy. The Earthlings who cooperated with the Baigs were just as bad as the Baigs - they were the evil ones of the human race. Hitler would have been a Baig. They were all people who ate a seven-course dinner every night, as they sat smoking with their friends, making small jokes about how the Galaxial taxes were putting them into the poorhouse. People who had looked at Raira in the streets once, and frowned, turning their heads away, tsk-tsking "What a shame... We need to rid our city streets of these vagrants." She glanced around, and a man caught her eye. He was alone, and adjusted his jacket slightly before sitting down on his chair. He felt good. He seemed to radiate virtues and change. She tried to divert her attention away, but she couldn't. He was amazingly handsome, a shock of thick black hair resting on his head above his flawless features. He had classical looks, the kind of face that you saw in texts about Greek mythology. His face, while beautiful, was serious and contemplative. The microphone crackled. Her head snapped up and about to look at the speaker on the stage, blue curtains draping behind them. Raira turned her head again, oblivious, to gaze at the man. Her escort looked at her curiously, turned his head, and seeing nothing, turned again to look at the man who had caught her attention so. She started to probe into his mind, feeling guilty, but too compelled to learn about him to restrain herself. He felt refreshing, like a swim in a cool lake on a steaming hot day. "May I -- excuse me, ladies and gentlemen --" The pandemonium started to decrease. "May I have your attention?" He felt new. He felt like a baby. "Please, ladies and gentlemen, Baigs and Earthlings..." The auditorium quieted, its silence broken only by an occasional whisper, cough, or sneeze. The man wasn't mitigated by the monotonous tone of the speaker. Unlike most of the people in the crowd, who were calmly being hypnotized, their minds quieting, his own mind rose in volume and determination. "As you know, the elections for the new Galaxial Prime Minister are coming up. There have, surprisingly, been no opponents against Baig Jo`uxy Jante, with the exception of Earthling Mohammed Azeledith. We all mourn his death, but..." The man set his notepad on the floor and started to rise. His mind silenced with clarity. _He's going to change it,_ Raira thought. Joy leapt in her. "Excuse me." The man was soft-spoken. _He's going to run against Jante!_ "I'd like to make a proposition." _He's our only hope!_ Suddenly, before her eyes, the man withered like a flower that went dry too soon, crumpling to the floor with a painful cry. _No_ The audience erupted in anarchy. "I'm a doctor"-- "Let me through!" She stood and ran towards the man at a blinding speed, knowing it to be too late, but refusing to acknowledge the fact. His mind was blank, all activity ceased. No bursts of electricity crackled between his neurons and synapses, and no essence of good radiated from him anymore. He was dead. Her mind flooded with warm, wet tears. *** "That was close." *** Raira wept. *** "Who let it get this close?" "Briggs, sir." "Well, damn it, if you'd been monitoring her correctly, we could have caught it before he even stood up." "Sir..." "Now she knows something's wrong." "She already did, sir." Silence. "Shit." *** The gentleman walked up behind her and took her gently by the arm, his fingers cold and wet with anxiety. His brow was furrowed together in concern, and he pulled her lamenting form away from the death scene. The bustling nurses greeted them at the doorway. They were dressed in their evening gowns, looking worried and fussing over the small shaking body. One checked her pulse as the other found her temperature. "Let's get her home. She's had a lot of excitement tonight." *** "Okay, Raira. Last night was good, so tonight, we're going to send you to a place you might feel more comfortable in." Raira glared at the Baig with hate, the very core of her being still cold and numb with shivering shock. "We'll send you to a bar downtown for a little while. Don't worry, you're old enough to drink." The Baig winked humorlessly at Raira, and she felt her stomach reel from him. "I'm a recovering alcoholic." "Well, they have other drinks. But, we want you to relax tonight. Just practice your skills, get stronger and better." Raira clenched her teeth together at the Baig's confidential, conspirational tone. Talking to her as if they were friends. As if they were kin Earthlings. "You can wear normal clothes if you want, if you didn't like the dress last night." "I liked it fine." "Well, that's a little... how shall I say, out of place for this bar. In your room, there's a closet. Explore it." "I have." He felt his irritation rising like an indomitable belch, and he fought to keep it down. When he felt himself starting to lose the inner battle of control, he stood and left the room. *** Her outfit was simple, much like the clothes she'd worn on the street but less trashy, less torn, less ragged. The clothes were loose and familiar on her body. The old-fashioned soft, worn cotton of her dress hung listlessly around her slim hips, the fabric fading into a dark green sweater that ended just below her midriff, showing off the curve of her breasts. She tucked her crimson hair behind her ears and left the room. A nurse waiting outside the door gave her a perfunctory glance, and nodded her approval. Raira was free for the first time in months, and yet she was not. She could walk. She could explore. But every move was being tracked, observed, regulated, supervised by the small demon seed behind her ear. She walked out into the bustling street, the cars whizzing high above her in the brisk night air. She felt self-conscious for a moment as a stranger walked past her, his eyes analyzing her from the very bottom of her feet to the top of her hair. She shivered, and gathered her concentration, keeping her thoughts as close to her as she could. She didn't want to invade any stranger's minds tonight. Not after last night. Her boots clanked on the sidewalk as she trudged on toward the bar. She could see the bar glowing alone down the block, its conspicuous flashing neon screaming aloud into the night. Noise flooded her ears, real noise, real music, and the end of a song faded away and quieted. People congregated outside around the building, drinking, smoking, enjoying the crisp, cool air. They were all Earthlings, Raira noted with a dizzying sense of relief. Family. She headed toward the door, where a tall, broad man wearing the bar's uniform stood. She gazed at him, challenging him as she pulled open the door. His muscles bulged and tensed against his shirt, and his mind felt hard and tough, but the rugged exterior melted a bit when she gave him a dazzling smile and passed through the entrance unscathed. The bar was dim with smoke and colored lights. Seedy. There were tables and barstools and there was a luminous dance floor illuminated by dozens of different colors flashing and moving around the throng of people who pulsed and undulated to the beat. Their combined mindset was brash, erotic, and with a tinge of anger, bristling up against Raira's own mind. She felt at home now - this reminded her of Earth's seedy nightclubs she'd frequented. The crowd's mood changed drastically with the music, adapting to it as if it was the music that had always been playing. The music started to fade out from a hard, driving song, and became soothing, smooth, slow and calm. The crowd calmed. Raira closed her eyes and hummed along, her shoulders relaxing and her body swayed as she stood on the sidelines. *** "How's it going?" "Doing fine, Sir. She is at the location, and apparently having a good time." "Good. We should have him nailed in a few minutes." *** Her mind wandered free. She let the music lift her, and she drifted away on the gentle waves of the notes. The sense of peace and community brought her to a higher level of inner ecstasy, as her mind explored and wandered. She could tell deep inside that the chip wasn't making her feel this strongly. It was herself. She opened her eyes and kept swaying, absorbed deep into the peace. Fortissimo. Quiet, haunting. His hazel, inquisitive eyes met her own. Crescendo. The music increased subtly in tempo, stepping up the intensity just a bit. She gazed back at him. His mind was... clean, organized. Not jumbled. _Don't think about it!_ The thought pierced through the air to her, the franticness of his thought punctuated with wide, fearful eyes, pounding into her brain with the force of a rocket crash. Her heart quickened. The music went faster, louder. Piano forte. Climbing frantically in pitch. Forte! Allegro! Hard and fast, driving and beating, she was sucked into him. He was fascinating. His eyes gazed back into hers, and his face was soft in admiration, his lips slightly parted. She went to him, pushing through the crowd in a dreamlike state, drifting on the cloud created by their mind forces. He smelled good, free of smoke and smog and alcohol. His mind felt good. She stood close to him, and moved her body to the beat, not particularly paying attention, absorbed in their combined emotions. He moved close to her, putting his hands on her waist and swinging his body in synch with her own.She shivered in excitement as his cool, soft skin touched her cheek, a slight neglect in shaving caressing her surface. He whispered in her ear, his hot breath gasping against her lobe. "You must not think about my mind. Just know I am there." She understood, even though she didn't know what was going on, she understood what he wanted. She closed her eyes and let her emotions take over, her body dominating her senses. He continued to whisper, and his arms encircled her waist, pulling her close to him. She felt dizzy with excitement. "You're the girl I dream about every night." She sighed, her flustered mind finding it a most difficult task not to think about him. "In my deepest, most beautiful dreams, night after night..." Ahhhhhhhh... "These dreams that leave me wishing for abolition of reality..." Her chest pressed against his. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she almost let her lips graze his neck, for they were right there, wanting to kiss him. "These dreams that leave me soaked in my own sweat when I wake..." His hands traveled down her hips and touched her thighs gently. "These dreams that leave me lonely all day, for the companion of the night, for the presence of that woman once again..." She kissed him on his neck. His skin prickled in response. His hands tightened on her thighs, his fingers digging into her skin. She was hot with needy lust, and light-headed with the gentle way he touched her mind. "You're one?" "Shh. We'll talk about it later. For now... let us dance." And they danced, in every respect of the word. He held her close to his body, and embraced her mind in soft warmth, comforting and soothing her in ways nobody had ever done before. She'd led a long life that needed solace and rarely ever got it. She loved the emotions it invoked and reveled in them, able to forget, momentarily, that she'd once sold her body for food, that she'd once lived in a cardboard box in the worst parts of Earth, that she was trapped, a captive of the totalitarian government. She felt him stiffen against her, and forced herself from nudging into his minds, finding out what he liked about her. He sensed what she wanted, though, and started to whisper in her ear once again. "You're beautiful. I've been watching you while you've been dancing, and I've been finding out about you, Raira. You're like a tragic heroine, and you're so strong, it's admirable." She blushed and he looked into her eyes, strong and serious, and leaned close to her. Their lips hovered before each other, too shy to kiss, until finally, he lowered his soft mouth onto hers. He held her tighter and she wrapped her arms around his neck, lifting herself up to his lips, letting him seduce her with his mouth. His tongue flickered against her pout. She nibbled his bottom lip, and he ran his tongue along her lips experimentally before slipping the smooth, slippery warmth into her mouth. She took hold of his tongue with her mouth and sucked at it as if it was his cock, and he unconsciously thrust his hips against her, letting her feel his teeming hardness. She moaned into his crevice. Finally, they broke the exhilarating kiss, his breathing hot and hard. He continued to whisper. "I know what they're doing to you." She jerked, startled, her mind racing like a ship gone mad and buzzing and nearly screaming in fear that the whisper had gotten through to the Baigs. He quickly reached into her panic-stricken conscious, and restrained her, holding her thoughts together in a tight, impenetrable ball. "Raira, shh, it's okay." She swallowed a gulping gasp and buried her head in his neck. He caressed the curve of her backbone, running his fingers along the thin ridge. "I feel like I know you," she whispered to him, her voice trembling, barely audible over the softly playing music. "I feel like you've been here for years." He smiled sadly. "Perhaps I have, and we never got a chance to find out. I'm the last one left alive, you know." "Why did they kill so many, Jeffries?" She gazed up at him, and he smiled. "I didn't tell you my name." The revelation dawned on her slowly, and her eyes widened in a laugh. "I didn't even try to get it from your mind." He nodded to her. "I know." She let him lead her off the floor and up a rickety stairwell, the steps groaning and creaking above the calm-again music. They walked together, their minds singing an ancient, forgotten tune, their feet instinctively working together so they wouldn't have to let go of each other. She couldn't let herself think, couldn't let herself be sucked into the thick swirling vortex of familiarity she longed to be in. She knew it had something to do with the chip. They entered a small, nondescript room. Posters of the bare galaxy covered the walls, and there were thousands of random pieces of papers tacked up on the walls. Some had come loose and fluttered to the floor where they lay untended. The scent was stronger now, his intoxicating scent. She was bathed in the warmth of it all. She was home. It was silent, for the room was soundproofed. The only sound was the beautiful music that echoed only in their minds. He murmured in hushed tones still, caressing each word as it rolled off his tongue in a baritone that rumbled gently against her neck. "You have to trust me." She nodded. "I'll explain everything." She gazed into his eyes, which were as green as the forests on Earth once had been, tinged with gold around the ends. Hazel, that color was called. His hands traveled up from her waist, squeezing and stroking her body. She could feel his mind aching, wanting to be with her. But it wasn't a wanting like the man who had been her escort yesterday, but a deep, true wanting. Love. He nuzzled her, the cold tip of his nose making her shiver. He held her close to his beating, warm body, whispering to her. "Close your eyes. Let your mind go blank. No matter what, don't let your mind interrupt." He lay her down on his bed, the soft mattress recoiling with the weight of their two bodies. He lay on top of her, her legs spread around him, and buried his head into her hair. The chip. He was inside the chip. She closed her eyes and concentrated on seeing nothing but black, black as far as she could see. His hands caressed her and made gentle waves of warmth reverberate through her body. The sensation of his body pressed against her, of his mind mingling with her own turned her on. He was hard and firm along her body, and she shifted to feel him better. He squeezed her and kissed her neck. She could feel something happening in her mind, but didn't think about it. His hand crept along her thigh, gently traveling to where their bodies met. He slipped his fingers underneath the dress, caressing her bare, warm skin. She shivered with the shock of human skin against her, caressing her, and then sighed with the intimacy of the moment. It seemed that only the two of them existed anymore, wrapped and bonded into each other's world. She shifted her body against him, wishing that he'd rub his steel hardness against her. Quieter. It was quieter inside. He rubbed the length of his hardness through their clothes against her mound as he simultaneously ran his finger along the band of her panties. She gasped as the tip pressed against her wetness that was concealed in layers of clothing. She'd almost forgotten that he could read her mind, could respond to every urge and need that reverberated through her hot, hormone-ridden body. She moved her hands down from his back, where her fingernails had been passionately digging into his flesh, and ran her palms down his ass, feeling the firm flesh against her fingers. She pressed him against her, encouraging him, begging him mentally to rub against her harder. He did so, his cock pushed hard against her clit, thrusting up and down against her. His breath was hot and quickened in her ear, and she responded to his motions by straining her pussy against him, hungry for him. She pushed harder into his mind, blending and merging with him, and together they were enveloped in a utopia of pleasure, drifting in and around the soft corners and bends of hot, pulsing sensation, closer and closer to each other. His need blended with her own, and her arousal heightened his, each meter higher that they flew, they brought the other one up twofold. She could feel his excitement, could feel the sensations that surrounded his cock intensify as she drifted deeper into his mind. He let her in carefully, opening the entrance wider a millimeter at a time. He was hot and hard, pulsating, throbbing, wanting her. The knowledge made her want him even more, want to satisfy every need that he had. Suddenly, she let up, driven by a hunger. Her hands traveled to the front of his body, feeling his broad, hard chest, and purred softly. She felt his excitement grow when she dipped her hands down to his waist and pulled urgently at his band. He lifted his waist up slightly, still nuzzling and kissing her neck, and giving her silent images of all the things he wanted to do to her. Her excitement surged, and she could feel his desire to give her anything she wanted. Her fingertips grazed the hard mass that was tenting his pants, and she slipped her hand in, past the band of his pants, grasping his cock. It jumped in her hand, warm and velvety and so unbelievably hard. Her mind was flooded with teasing agony of his excitement, and it drove her higher as they shared the excitement between them. He was barely able to control himself when she strained her pussy against him, turned on by his feelings. He could barely restrain from devouring her, and she liked that. Being wanted like this turned her on. They were caught in a delicious loop of need, hunger, and pleasure.She made a guttural sound in the pit of her throat, breathing hard through her mouth. With one hand, she caressed and felt his manhood, her fingers running up and down his stiff shaft and swirling around his silky head, playing with the precum that was running out of the tiny hole at the tip, rubbing the glans just below the mushroom cap. She wrapped her fingers around his cock, squeezing it tightly. He sighed in her ear. The chip was gone. She was with him alone, yet the euphoric feelings of stimulation weren't gone. She didn't care about that now, cared about nothing more than his taking her and making hot, rapid love to her. But she wanted to explore his body and his mind further, and when his finger pressed against her clit, she heard him think about what a wet, warm pussy she had, and his cock jumped in her hand. She squirmed against him and gasped when he responded to what she wanted. He rubbed her clit softly, tentatively at first, and then stronger when her mind screamed in response. His mind was frenzied now, his excitement being pushed up higher and higher with every moan and twist she made underneath him. He released his finger from her clit against her protests, and she wanted to pull his hand back and have him keep going, until she realized that he'd known what she really wanted - his fat, stiff cock driving in and out of her. She lifted her arms up and he stripped her dress over her head and she urgently wriggled out of her burdensome panties, his own quickly following suit. The discarded clothing landed, piece by piece, on the floor next to the bed. He lifted his body up and gazed at her. "You're beautiful." She sighed. "I think I'm in love with you." He laughed softly, a tinkling music in her ear, a warm wave of love in her head. She loosened her mind from the tight ball it was before, letting it expand and float free around his mind. His mind grew more vulnerable as his guard let down. She could tell it wasn't something he did often, from the way that he had to coax and urge it to fade. He was pulsating, sighing and gasping at her mental touches. She prodded and explored as he leaned down to suckle her nipple. She felt him roll it around his tongue, and heard him sigh and groan mentally at the feel of the hard nub in his mouth. She pressed against him, encouraged by his excitement, and pushed her bare pussy against his engorged cock, the tip of his cock just barely touching the outer edge of her clit. She pushed her mound against him and explored his mind again. She felt his consciousness gently, putting pressure here or there when she had an instinct that it would feel good. She realized that he was responding physically to her mind, and continued to investigate his sexuality. Finally, she embraced a hot throbbing rhythm of his mind, and pushed at it, working with it. He gasped and his teeth clamped down on her nipple. His cock surged, pressed against her pussy, and she moaned aloud at the sensation when his mind cried for a release. She was hungry for him, and her desperation was clear. She reached down and pushed at his waistband, tugging them the rest of the way down from their previous position on his thighs. He lifted an arm, not lifting his face off of her nipple, and pulled them off for her, his bare, hot cock resting heavily on her stomach. She squirmed underneath the touch, gasping in unrequited pleasure. Her body was enveloped in a needy heat. His cock touched her clit. She let out a gasping moan, shuddering with the desperation. She let her body work in conjugation with his mind's needs, and his face contorted in pleasure as well as her own. Her excitement mounted as his breathing grew harder and more frantic. _Raira I need you...!_ He wrenched his mouth off of her painfully hard nipple and bore down on her, kissing her hard, his warm, slippery tongue pushing against her lips. Their arms intertwined, hands locking together as he rubbed against her harder and harder, his cock becoming more and more lubricated by the trickle of sweet nectar every time her pussy lips and clit traveled the whole length of his shaft. She couldn't take it. _I need it in me..._ she cried in her mind, and he groaned back to her, showing that he needed her hot, wet flesh wrapping around his own as much as she needed his rigid piston slamming into her. He untangled an arm from hers and reached down, gripping the base of his cock. He rubbed the tip at her entrance, and she bore down on it, moaning his name aloud when she felt his swollen head pop in, and he started to work his cock inside her with short, loose thrusts of his hips. She cried his name when her mind flooded with his arousal, and she could feel how it felt for him, her hot walls constricting around his long shaft, her juice smoothing the hot journey they made together. His head tilted back as he felt her own pleasure at his thrusts inside her, in and out, faster, harder. His body started to thrash with her own. She rocked hard against him at the sensation, straining to push her pussy against him, moaning and gasping. She felt so full everywhere, her mind, her heart, her sex. He pushed in to the hilt, his cock twitching inside, and her pussy clenched at him, pulling him in deeper, milking him. His mouth was open wide in excitement, and his eyes were narrowed as he gazed at her. He slowly drew his cock out and slammed it back in with the pounding rhythm of their minds. "Oh, oh..." Suddenly, his mind touched and then squeezed a bare, sensitive, needy spot on her own. "Oh!" His cock slammed into her and his pubis pushed against her clit, the hair tickling her. His excitement mounted, and he wasn't able to continue to hold back the rushing torrents of his heat when he felt her orgasm thundering toward her at ninety miles an hour -- "Oooooh, GOD!" They exploded together, the fragments of their orgasm falling down around them like a star reduced to fine dust, and a softly shimmering, peaceful white surrounded and embraced them... He still held her against his body when she woke, and she murmured assent to him. His eyes fluttered open. "How did you do it?" He smiled sleepily. "I changed a few wires around. It's off for good." "Did anything get through?" "I don't know. I doubt it." Startled as she felt a tear trace a whispery path down her cheek, she leaned close to kiss him, her throat choking with gratitude. He pulled his body close against his. _Raira_ _Jeffries_ _I know you, Raira... I don't know how_ _I love you, Jeffries_ She wondered again how he, a psion, had gotten past the government's notice. He looked at her and she blushed, knowing he could read her thoughts. He smiled. He didn't mind. "I haven't. They just don't know which one is me yet. All they know is I appear at this bar sometimes." The words were sudden and loud in the crackling silence of the bedroom, and she gaped at him in surprise. "You should be dead, Jeffries, you know that." He nodded. "They sent you here to find me. And you did." "But..." Raira tried to gather her thoughts, tried to make sense of it all. "Why did you bring me up here? Why did you make love to me?" He leaned over to kiss her as gently as a raindrop on the tip of her nose. "Because I felt an immediate attraction to you when I laid eyes on you. Because we're made for each other in the literal sense. You felt it, too, when we made love. When we came." She nodded. "For me, it's worth dying for. You're worth dying for. You're free now, and we can be together. But it isn't without risk. They could find you again. They don't know you're psionic, and may just let you go." His eyes turned dark. "But not me." She felt her insides melt, felt her heart choke and her eyes well up with tears. He held her close to his, her ear pressed against his beating heart. "Don't cry, Raira. I'll always be here." "Why did they kill so many psions?" "Because we were dangerous to them. They couldn't control us completely, Raira, even if we did willingly cooperate which no self-respecting Earthling would do. They were afraid we'd be able to bring down their government by reading their minds alone. They think of us as thieves, able to slip into their mind and steal their secrets." She frowned, turning the idea over in her head. "Their grip on the Galaxy is too tight. We don't pose any danger to them anymore. We used to." False mirth once again returned to his face, and he winked knowingly at her. "Anyway, they have no idea it was me. Now, as we speak, they think you were just making love to some greasy bar hopper. There's no place in the Universe we can be free, but there are places we can hide. I have a ship... we can go anywhere you desire." "Like?" She snuggled against him, reveling in the hard warmth of his body. "A distant, remote star system, far off into the heavens..." his eyes grew starry. "BN-4, perhaps. Or Albion. Or Kini-Wa." He nuzzled her and his lips nipped at her. "Or heaven, right here with you." A slow smile crept across her face and she kissed him happily, clasping his body close to hers. They lay there, asleep in each other's naked arms and minds, until the morning sun came with its brash illumination. "She's still not back yet." "All right. Proceed." Their minds danced together, twirling around, playing, laughing. Finally, they woke, blinking their eyes against the harsh light. Raira pressed her body against his, and they lay together in silence, feeling the soft, bare skin interacting. Raira broke the spell of mind play by kissing him before she rolled out of bed. He moaned softly when she left, taking her warm comfort with her, and she giggled, staring into his eyes, infatuated. "Are we leaving tonight?" she asked quietly, the hint of a smile teasing her lips. "Today, dearie. This morning," Jeffries whispered."Where do you want to go?" A sad look took over Raira's pretty, delicate features. "A planet that looks like what Earth used to." Tiny, uncontrollable pools welled up in her big, green eyes. "Oh, hon..." he got up with an effort and embraced her. They stood, naked, in the cold morning, their bare feet recoiling against the hard vinyl bedroom floor. He rocked her in his arms, and she held back her tears, opening her eyes wide, refusing to let them spill over onto her pale cheeks. She felt him comfort her, felt him tell her, "It's okay to cry... I cry..." She felt him gulp against her body, and she felt his spirits start to sink with hers. She resolved to cheer up and gazed up at him, her eyes firm and resolute. "Here, I know something that'll make you feel better," he told her, in a tone that let her know he wasn't taking no for an answer. "I know a planet we can go to. Why don't you go and get some clothes, a lot of clothes, and food, and come back in a few hours? We'll leave from my ship. It's small, but..." "No space is too small with you." She smiled and pressed her ear against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. They stood for a few minutes, leaning against each other, before he gently pried her off of him with soft laughter. He stepped over to the tiny plastic dresser, opening the top drawer, one hand still holding her waist, fingers sunk amiably in her hip's flesh. He took out a thick wad of money and handed it to her. She started to protest. Jeffries blocked the protest from her mind, kept it from forming on her lips. She suddenly felt as if she'd been bounced back. The phrase, 'I'm rubber and you're glue...' came to her mind, and she chuckled. "Thank you." Raira dressed in the clothes she'd been in yesterday, a slight smell of excitement clinging to them, a scent that made her giddy and warm inside. She bent over to pull on her socks, and she laughed when she lifted her head up to see his cock hardened and pointing at the sky. She wiggled her ass appealingly at him, letting his eyes travel up and down the length of her ass, before she stood up straight and stood by the door with a lingering glance. She didn't want to leave. "Now get out of here," he told her with a sheepish grin, chasing her off. She closed the door reluctantly behind her, slipping the wad of bills inside the lining of her bra. *** "Is he in position yet?" "Yes. Awaiting approval from proxy." "Fuck approval. Go now." *** A silent scream reverberated throughout the silent universe. *** Raira's fingers fumbled at the cold brass doorknob, frantically trying to fit the key into the hole with her trembling hands. The lock clicked. The door swung open. The scene that greeted her broke her heart. He lay in the middle of the floor. Dead, naked as the day he was born, his arms, his chest, his face, the blood no longer pumping through the veins, his fingers, his lips, his legs, his heartbeat gone. She fell to her knees and screamed in agony, choking on her own misery, strangling as the darkness of hopelessness closed in around her, its cold, unwelcome fingers caressing her, molesting her. Suddenly, noise thundered and pounded through her head. Her tear-stained face jerked up in surprise, eyes hard and angry, hands clenched into fists. The Baig sat on the bed, a malicious grin splayed across his face. "You!" she cried, her wail of torment echoing off the walls of the small apartment. He just grinned harder at her, his lime-tinted teeth glinting in the light. She tried desperately to shut down the chip again, to stop the noise and the Baig invasion of her mind. "Why?" He didn't answer her. Louder, this time. "WHY?!" He looked down at her and tsk-tsked his tongue in pity. "Poor you. Down on your knees, clutching the dead body of the only person who ever cared about you. He told you why." "He never hurt anybody, and you know it!" "Nevertheless, we know something even better now, and he told us." She was blinded with confusion. "No. He couldn't have been working with you." His laugh echoed through the cold air. "No! He wasn't working with us, god forbid, we gave up on psions decades ago..." his words slowed, and his eyes slitted as he glared down at her. The chip flicked off. "So, you're a psion, eh? This changes things a bit." She shook her head. "No. No!" The Baig cracked his knuckles nonchalantly. "You can't deny it now. We did a little test on you that we never even thought of doing before we implanted the chip. Little Orphan Raira is a psion." A deadly calm washed over her, bathing her in the soothing, salty waves, as she finally arrived on her mind's shore. She smiled wryly and lowered her head to her lover's chest. She let her psionic powers accumulate, and they flew together slowly at first, gaining speed, concentrating into a tiny ball that had enough power to explode an atomic bomb. Yes, she was powerful enough. Her mind burst into millions of pieces, shattering her soul. The Baig gasped in shock as the fragments of her short, confused life flew wildly about the Galaxy, spinning and spinning into the infinite blackness. Finally, she had the peace she'd always wanted and needed.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/10562.txt

Uncle Mike

LOVE BOAT: Cum Aboard

"Hey, no minors behind the bar," Isaac said. His dark face was stern, but Vicki could hear the teasing in his voice. "It's OK," she said, smiling up at him. "Dad... I mean, Captain Stubing, said I could clean up back here. Actually, he ordered me to." She giggled as she backed away from the bar's overhang and stood up. "I wanted some spending money for when we reach the island, and he said I had to earn it." Isaac smiled broadly. "Well, then, get to it, girl," he said, and walked back to the far end. With a grimace, Vicki squatted down again and crawled under the bar, pushing her dust rag into the nooks and crevices. She was concentrating on getting all the way into the tight corners of the narrow shelves, so she wasn't aware at first of the three girls who had climbed up on the high stools at that end of the gleaming wooden bar. It was only when one of them spoke Vicki's name that she lifted her head in surprise -- only to bang it on the bottom of the bar's top. She sank down, rubbing her head. The girls must not have heard the thump over the clanging and banging of the calypso band nearby. They kept chatting, talking loud enough to be heard over the music even down where Vicki was. "I know, she's just so dumb, isn't she? Like, really, who does she think she is? Walking around in that stupid uniform half the time? Like, I'm sure, she's, like, driving the boat, right?" The shrill, whiny voice set Vicki's teeth on edge. As she struggled to decide between getting up to confront the girls or staying quiet to hear it all, another one chimed in. "Like, for sure. And did you see what she was wearing yesterday? Like, gag me with a spoon! A one-piece! Like, nobody wears one-pieces except old ladies and fatties. Gross!" Under the bar, Vicki looked down at herself. She had on a loose-fitting pullover and a pair of shorts, both in a riotous pastel pattern. She poked at her stomach. Maybe it wasn't as flat as some, but she was a long way from the plump kid she was when she first got on the boat three years ago -- or was it four now? Her musings were interrupted by more chatter from above. "Like, you are so right! Can you believe she actually tried to TALK to us? To US?" All three girls burst into laughter. "Like, we're going to waste our time talking to some fat baby who probably hasn't even done it, like, once? Like, come ON! She probably couldn't even get a guy to kiss her!" "Like, yeah!" said another girl. "Like, she'd go, 'Oh, I love you, let's do it,' right? And he'd go, like, 'Grody to the max, babe!'" With another burst of laughter, the girls finally got Isaac's attention, and he strode down to their end of the bar and poured a round of Diet Cokes. As they left, he heard a snuffling sound from underneath the bar. He bent down and saw Vicki, sitting on the floor with her knees tucked up to her chin. "Hey, what's wrong, girl?" He reached out a hand and helped her to her feet. "Nothing," she said, gulping back a sob. Turning her back, she slipped through the doorway to the corridor. Isaac looked after her, puzzled. "What about the cleaning?" he called out. "I'll finish it later," she shouted back to him as she scurried away. It was much later, just after the bar closed for the night, that Vicki slipped back in. She was embarrassed about what had happened earlier, so she said nothing to Isaac, who had his back to her as he polished glasses and set them on the bar top. When a couple of wine glasses tinked together as she moved them aside to dust, however, he turned around. "Vicki! I didn't hear you come in. How are you feeling?" She mumbled a reply and kept on with her dusting, but Isaac had been a bartender too long to give up so easily. With gentle questions and subtle proddings, he worked her around into one of the bar stools and soon she was pouring out her heartache. As Isaac knew, Vicki had first come aboard as a pudgy 12-year-old, happy and giggly but more of an ornament than a real part of the crew. In time, she had become a cherished member of the boat's family, not just because she was the captain's daughter, but more because she had been a friend to so many others. And she had grown into young womanhood, losing her baby fat and blossoming into a comely maiden. But, her sobs made clear, inside that shapely body remained the heart of a fat girl, forcing cheerfulness but always desperately afraid that people would stop liking her. Probably spending so much time among the perfect bodies on display on a cruise ship hadn't helped, Isaac suggested. "You're a beautiful young girl," he told her, "really you are. OK, you're not as thin as some of these kids hanging around the pool, but so what? You look great just the way you are!" Vicki blinked back a few tears as she looked across the bar at him. "Sure, you say so. But you're my friend. You have to say that. Just look at the way all the boys hang around all those girls at the pool. They don't hang around me that way." "Maybe they're just too dumb to appreciate you," Isaac said, taking hold of her hands to grab her attention. "They're kids! At this age, all boys know is what they see on TV and in the movies. Give them a couple of years until they outgrow it. Then you'll see. It takes a mature man to appreciate what you have to offer." Vicki laughed bitterly. "By the time they appreciate me, I'll be too old to care! Isaac, I haven't even had more than a few kisses, and most of those were just pecks. Every other girl my age who comes on this boat has had romances and, well (she ducked her head down) -- well, they've been around." She looked up suddenly, blushing deeply when she found herself staring directly into his eyes. "I mean -- I mean -- oh, Isaac, don't you understand? I'm a virgin and they all know it. I can feel their eyes when I walk by. They can see it, I just know it! And they laugh at me." Pulling her hands free, Vicki dropped her head to the bar top and sobbed uncontrollably. Isaac came out from behind the bar and, taking hold of Vicki's shoulders, led her over to one of the bar's couches. He sat down beside her and rested her head on his broad shoulder, patting her back as her sobs slowly diminished. Finally she got back her control and pulled back. The vinyl upholstery crackled slightly as she squirmed her way into the corner of the couch. Isaac reached out a hand and tenderly raised her chin, bringing their eyes together. "It's really important to you, isn't it?" Vicki blinked in uncertainty, but then her lips slowly parted. "You mean -- yes, yes it is." She ducked her head and seemed to be on the verge of tears again."Well, if it's that important, then as your friend there's only one thing I can do," he said. Vicki raised her head, and her mouth fell open in shock. Isaac was unbuttoning his shirt, exposing his smooth, brown chest. He tossed the shirt aside and reached out to the young girl, who was paralyzed. Smoothly, he undid the few buttons below her collar and pulled the shirt up. In a daze, Vicki lifted her arms and let him lift it free. Bending toward her, Isaac pressed his lips to hers. His curly mustache tickled her face, but soon she was paying more attention to the hot tongue pushing its way between her lips. He pushed her back on the couch, and she trembled as she felt his chest make contact with hers. At last, he broke the kiss. "Oh, Isaac," Vicki whispered. He silenced her with a finger to her lips. "Hush, girl. If we're doing anything you don't want, you just tell me. But if not, you just lay back and enjoy. I'll show you how much a real man appreciates a woman like you." Vicki closed her mouth and lay back. Deftly, Isaac unhooked her bra and drew it away, exposing her small, firm breasts, capped by nipples quickly growing firmer. He drew first one, then the other into his mouth, nibbling and licking at them. Vicki began to writhe in delight. Then Isaac moved lower, slipping her shorts and panties off and tossing them aside. Gently spreading her legs, he began to lick his way up her thighs. When at last his tongue reached her cunt, her tunnel was already hot and wet with her secretions. She let out a long, deep sigh as he spread her open with his hands and slid his tongue into her. His attentions quickly had her gasping and bucking, but she knew she wanted more. Grabbing his shoulders, Vicki pulled Isaac up to her and kissed him deeply. "I want you," she said, and her voice was deep and firm. "I want you, oh, God, I want you now!" Without another word, Isaac got to his knees and pulled down his shorts. A long, thick black cock sprang free. Vicki stared at it, fascinated, as Isaac yanked his shorts down the rest of the way and kicked them off. "Will you ... be gentle?" she said, as he moved forward and began to rub the head of what looked to her like an enormous dick against her pussy lips. "Always, girl, always," he said, and moved it in. Her lips parted easily, but still she gasped again as the thick rod spread her apart. A quick thrust broke her maidenhead easily, and soon she was eagerly meeting his every thrust with one of her own. Isaac propped himself on his strong arms as he plunged into her tunnel again and again. Vicki's young body twisted underneath him as she bucked her hips up, trying to take him in deeper and deeper on every thrust. "You're no virgin, now, girl," Isaac grunted as he pounded away. Vicki smiled, almost a grimace as his cock sent shockwaves through her. "I'm glad it was you," she said, looking him straight in the eye. "I've always watched you at the bar. You knew that, didn't you? Your hot, black body, so strong and smooth. I think I wanted you from the first. "And now I've got you!" She grabbed him and pulled his face to hers, plunging her tongue into his mouth in a lingering kiss. Her legs rose, and it seemed that his cock buried even deeper into her. "And I want all of you," she said as they broke their kiss. "I want all of your cock in me! I want you to fuck me harder! Please! Please, fuck me!" The harsh words coming from Vicki's sweet mouth drove Isaac's passion higher, and he began to slam into her. The couch was becoming slick with their sweat and juices, and Vicki's body began to slide around under the pounding. At last, Isaac pulled her up to him and sat back, his cock still plunged deep into her. His hands massaged her small breasts as she rose and fell above him, wiggling a bit on each downstroke when she saw that it pleased him. And then Isaac took hold of her around the waist and began to lift and lower her, faster and faster, until he bellowed out, "I'm coming, girl!" "Yes, Isaac," Vicki shouted back to him, her lips only inches from his contorted face. "Cum in me! Fill me up! I want all of you! Oh, fuck, I want it all!" Isaac's hot cum exploded out of him, jetting into her eager cunt and spilling out the sides. As his cock began to shrink, Vicki continued to ride him. "Not yet," she urged him, "not yet! Please, I want more!" Isaac lifted her off him as she protested. "I've got no more," he insisted, but Vicki eagerly grabbed for his cock, rubbing the slick rod desperately. Even as Isaac tried to push her away, his cock began to stiffen again -- not much, but enough to make Vicki smile up at him smugly. "See? I think you've still got some left in you!" Isaac sprawled back onto the couch, laughing. "OK, girl, maybe you're right," he said. "But you've got to help. Here, let me show you." He pulled her hands away from his cock, motioning her to bend over it instead. "Now purse your lips," he said, but Vicki opened her mouth wide instead. "You want me to put that in my mouth?" she said, her eyes opening wide. "I did it for you," he reminded her. Vicki nodded and bent down. Under Isaac's instructions, she pursed her lips. Holding his cock in both hands, she slowly sucked the tip into her mouth. As he led her through it, she licked and sucked and stroked. His cock began to thicken under her ministrations, until she couldn't take it all into her mouth. Still, she kept up a rhythm, her face bobbing up and down over Isaac's lap as her short brown hair formed a curtain around her busy mouth. Then Isaac pulled her off and had her kneel facing the end of the couch. He crawled up behind her and inserted his now-stiff cock into her throbbing cunt again. Bending down, he began to massage her ripe breasts as his dick slid deep into her. Vicki's ass moved with him, forcing him into her to the hilt. The bristly patch of hair above his cock scraped against her butt cheeks as he drove his rod into her. This time they came in unison. Isaac groaned deeply as another stream of cum burst out. Vicki was quieter, but her body arched and writhed for several minutes until she collapsed to the couch, Isaac dropping on top of her and then rolling to one side. The next morning, Vicki slipped away from the chores her father had assigned and dropped in on Isaac at the bar. She caught his eye as she walked past the stools and sat down on a couch -- their couch. A strong odor rose; she quickly recognized it as the industrial-strength cleanser Isaac kept behind the bar. She smiled. It was a busy morning, so it was several minutes before Isaac could break away from the customers at the bar and come over to her. He had a worried look on his face. He bent down to talk to her, but Vicki spoke first, keeping to a whisper. Isaac had to keep his ear close to hear her over the band, and she playfully licked him. He jumped back, rubbing his ear and then quickly pulling his hand away and looking around quickly. No one else seemed to notice. He moved back, but kept a safe distance from Vicki's mouth. "I'm sorry," she whispered, frowning as she saw his long face. "I just couldn't help myself. Look, I ..." Isaac broke in, speaking quickly as he noticed one of the customers at the bar turn around and wave an empty glass at him. "I can't talk long. But I'm glad you came in. There's something I need to tell you. I ..." This time Vicki interrupted. "I know what it is. You want to tell me that it was a one-time thing and you don't want to have an affair with me. Hey, that's OK, Isaac. I understand." Even as she spoke, Isaac could see her blinking back a tear. Over his shoulder, he heard a shout from the bar. "OK, OK, I'm coming," he called, but turned back to Vicki. She was smiling mysteriously, and suddenly Isaac realized what he'd said. He smiled briefly, then set his face in a serious pose. "This is serious. We'll talk about that -- that other thing later. But I wanted to tell you to get down to the Doc. Now that you're, uh, experienced, he should be giving you something. You know." Vicki's eyes glistened. "The Pill?" Her voice cracked. "Isaac, does that mean ... ?" "Not now," he said. "We'll talk later. Sorry. Gotta go." Vicki had to run off, too; she knew Captain Stubing would be coming around soon to see how she was doing. Her chores kept her occupied most of the day, but late in the afternoon she finished and made her way down to the doctor's office.

Mf inc anal

Section A

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/14627.txt

Candy Kane

Girls Loving Girls part 1

"Karen, I'm going for a hot shower," Brenda said as the movie ended. "Want to join me?" She got up from the couch and stretched her arms over her head; her breasts pushed her T-shirt out as it rode up, exposing her bare navel and tiny bikini panties. It was Saturday, and our parents were away for the weekend. My seventeen-year-old sister and I (I'm sixteen) had decided to spend the evening at home watching TV. The main reason: neither one of us had a date. "Sounds inviting," I said. "You get started while I clean up." I watched her head up the stairs, her long, tanned and slim legs, her bare feet padding on the carpet. Then I picked up the empty popcorn bowls and soda glasses and went to the kitchen. The movie we rented was sexy with lots of nudity. Brenda and I had been lying on each end of our large living room couch. My hand had slipped down between my legs a few times during the really hot scenes, and I could tell from Brenda's squirming that she was enjoying herself too. By the end of the movie, I was definitely turned on and wet. I knew from Brenda's suggestion of the shower that she was as horny as I was. Taking a shower together was not unusual; we loved being naked and touching each other. When we were younger, it was innocent, sisterly stuff: inquisitive fingers exploring under a nightie or a bathing suit. But as teenagers, there were times when it went a lot further. Like the first time Brenda made out with a boy. She raced home to tell me. I wanted to know how it felt, so she showed me. From then on, we would practice our kissing techniques on each other before we went out on a date. Sometimes I wondered which I liked more, making out with my sister or my boyfriends. We shared a large bedroom with two beds, but in the winter we often slept together. Many nights, we would snuggle up to get warm, and our hands would wander, caress, and search. It was so erotic to fall asleep with our bodies entwined and my hand between Brenda's legs or hers on my breast. One night, I woke up to feel her finger in me. She must have been having a very wet dream; she was fingering me in her sleep. I thought it was so adorable and returned the favor, awakening her from her slumber with a warm, wet orgasm. The memory sent a tingle down between my legs as I finished cleaning up the kitchen and headed upstairs to our parent's huge bathroom. It had a whirlpool and double-headed shower. I could see Brenda through the steamy glass shower doors. She had her head tilted back, letting the hot water wash over her face. Her small breasts pointed straight out. As she turned around, I could see the V-shaped patch of fur over her crotch that pointed like an arrow to her slit. I had trimmed it for her only a few days before and called it my "get to the point" design. I pulled my T-shirt over my head and pushed my panties down my legs. The crotch was still sticky from playing with myself while watching the sexy movie. Sliding the glass door open, I stepped inside as the steam rushed up and surrounded me. "We need a washcloth," I said and turned to get one. "Wait, Karen." Brenda held my arm. "Just your hands." "You're such a bad girl," I said as she pulled me into the two streams of water. Brenda handed me a bar of soap and turned to face the marble wall. "Do my back." I lathered up my hands and rubbed them in big circles over her back, starting at her shoulders and working my way down. Brenda leaned forward, placing her hands on the wall; her head faced down between her arms as the hot water sprayed over her. I increased my circles to include her ribs and hips, letting my hands reach around to sweep over her breasts. Every second or third time, I would stop on her nipples and give them extra attention; they hardened at my touch. I ran my hands along her arms, stopping to gently clean her underarms. My sister was very sensitive there, and had told me that when I kissed or caressed her underarms, it sent sparks shooting down between her legs. I hoped it was working now. From there, I lathered up the soap again and worked my way down to her bottom. And what a thing of beauty: tight and perfectly shaped. Brenda's clothes clung so nicely to it; I know because I watched it just as much as everyone else did when she walked down the hall at school. Brenda and I loved to play little sexy games when we were in public. Like at school, we would go into a stall in the bathroom and finger each other. Then we would switch panties. During the next class, I would push the wet crotch of her panties in me. What a turn-on it was to smell her pussy on my fingers and know her sticky girl-cum was mixing with mine. We were always seeing how much we could get away with. Once in a crowded elevator on our way up to our father's office, I was squeezed in close behind Brenda. Without anyone knowing, she reached behind and slipped her hand under my mini-skirt. By the time I realized what she was doing, her finger was around the edge of my panties and into my pussy. I was so flushed I almost fainted. As the doors opened and we stepped out, she licked her finger. "My favorite flavor," she said with a wink. I was destroyed for the rest of the afternoon. But I always got her back. Like the time our family sat at the table eating dinner and our mother was discussing some important school event with Brenda. I sat across from my sister, and while she tried to talk, I slipped my bare foot up between her legs and rubbed her crotch with my big toe. Paybacks are hell, I thought, as I watched her squirm. As the hot water created a steam cloud wrapping itself around us, I leaned forward and kissed Brenda's back. Then I lathered up again and rubbed her beautiful bottom. Running my slippery hand up and down her crack, I could tell she was getting aroused. Her breathing deepened and she spread her legs for me. "Get it really clean," Brenda said, smiling over her shoulder. "Expecting company?" I asked. "Only that nasty little tongue of yours." "My, aren't we horny tonight." I squatted down and ran my soapy hands along her legs, enjoying the feel of her soft inner thighs. While I stroked them, my eyes never left that gorgeous ass right in front of my face, particularly her puckered little hole. It looked like a small flower, and I remembered the first time I saw it up close. We were in bed one night exploring each other's bodies using only the glow of a flashlight. Brenda lay on her stomach and stuck her bottom up. She reached back and spread her cheeks so I could see her hole, asking me what it looked like. I told her I thought it was the most beautiful thing in the world, next to her pussy of course. That night we spent hours just sniffing and licking each other's bottoms. I continued washing Brenda's legs, working my way up until I was stroking her pussy from behind. She moaned at my touch. Then I took my thumbnail and softly scratched her anus, causing an immediate contraction of her cheeks. I pushed the tip of my thumb against her little hole and let it slide in about the depth of my nail. Brenda responded by pushing back, trying to force it in further. With my thumb inside her, I stood up and let my hips press up against her ass. Spreading my legs slightly, I brought my pussy against the back of my hand and started a slow pumping rhythm as my thumb slid in and out of her while I massaged her cunt. Next, I leaned over so my breasts lay against her back. I reached my other hand around and cupped her left breast, taking her swollen nipple between my fingers and giving it a firm squeeze. I pushed my pussy against my hand, forcing my thumb up inside her rectum as far as it would go. "God, that feels so good," she managed to say as she met my thrusts. "Just the right size." Her words were slurred as her breathing quickened, her body trembled, her stomach sucked in and out. I know my sister well; she was going to come fast and hard. I loved the feel of my cunt pressing against my hand, but right then I was thinking only of her; all I wanted was to make her come. God, if I only had a dick. She climaxed with a shudder, gritting her teeth and jerking her head up and back. She made a low moaning sound as she closed her eyes, the steaming water washing over us.I slowed my thrusts and tried to support Brenda to keep her from sinking to the floor, her legs shaking, her body limp. Slowly she recovered and caught her breath. As I took my thumb out of her, I gave her pussy a few loving strokes and covered her back and neck with kisses. She straightened and turned around, her eyes glazed over with sex. Brenda wrapped her arms around my neck and locked her mouth on mine, her tongue shot out in a hot, wet kiss. It was not a sisterly peck but a passionate, "fuck me" kiss. Our breasts pressed together wet and slippery, soft and wonderful. We shifted slightly so our pussies could grind against each other's thighs; our hips moved in a wanton, lustful motion. Finally, we broke the embrace and I took Brenda by the hand. "Let's dry off and go to bed," I said. "Is that a proposition?" she asked with a giggle. "Let's just say I heard you were an easy lay." She kissed me again while she slid her hand down my stomach to my pussy, her middle finger resting between my folds. Then she whispered into my ear, "We're wasting time talking when we could be fucking." Shutting off the water, we opened the glass doors and stepped out. Brenda grabbed two large towels and we dried each other off. I was so turned on I wanted to pull her down on the floor and eat her right there. But before I could, Brenda threw her towel over my head. "So you think I'm an easy lay, do you? Well, little sister, if you want to fuck me, you've got to catch me first." With that, she ran out the door and down the hall. Tossing the towel aside, I raced after her, thoroughly enjoying her girlish laughter and the sight of her bouncing ass and long legs as she disappeared around a corner. Down the stairs we ran, two naked girls chasing each other like dogs in heat. The sight would have given any boy an instant hard-on and any girl a wet crotch. We raced around, me catching her only to have Brenda slip out of my grasp and sprint to the next room. Finally, she ran back up the stairs, heading for our parent's room and their king size bed. By the time I caught up, Brenda had yanked the covers off and threw them to the side. Then she scrambled onto the bed and positioned herself with her back to the headboard. I stopped a few feet away to catch my breath. "Is there something you wanted, young lady?" she said nonchalantly as if she had just noticed me for the first time. I squatted down with my arms resting on my knees. Then I slowly ran my hands along the inside of my thighs until they were at my crotch. Brenda kept her gaze locked on the spot between my legs as I spread myself open. I was so wet that when the cool air hit my hole, it gave me a rush. We liked to use our parent's big bed when they were out of town on business trips. We would fill the room with the sweet scent of our lovemaking and I often wondered if mom and dad could smell all the girl-cum that had dried on their sheets. I gave out a little growl and went down on my hands and knees, my cunt throbbing and flared wide open, ready to be eaten. I slowly crawled toward the bed and at the edge I growled again and climbed up the side until I was poised like a cat on the far corner. "Is the lioness hungry?" Brenda asked. I growled again, deep and sexy. Brenda brought her knees up and spread her legs apart. Then she reached down with her fingertips and opened herself to me. I could see drops of moisture on her short fur, the inside of her sex glistened. "Here's your dinner, pussycat, hot and pink, just like you like it." I crawled forward until I was directly over her crotch. Her scent filled my nostrils. I was so turned on, my body shook, my eyes blurred. I bent down and kissed her pussy with the same passion I would have kissed her mouth. Then I lowered myself onto the bed, the coolness of the sheets felt wonderful on my naked body, still sweaty from our chase. As Brenda wrapped her long legs around my head, I devoured her like a hungry animal; licking, sucking and drinking in all the love juice that flowed out of her. I reached up, took her nipples between my fingertips, and squeezed them as I licked her. She moved her hips in unison to my thrusts and her soft purring quickly turned to moans as her climax built. Brenda ran her fingers through my hair, pushing on my head to force my tongue deeper. Finally she stiffened and squeezed me tight with her legs as the orgasm rocked her. I slowed and opened my eyes, looking up at her. It was the most beautiful sight I could imagine as I watched her drift in and out of the blissful haze. "Come here, sweet baby," she said, holding her arms open. I crawled up her body licking and kissing as much of her salty, damp skin as I could. When our lips were inches apart, she wrapped her arms around my neck and we kissed, trying to eat each other with our hot mouths. My lips and cheeks were covered with her cum and she seemed to relish licking it all off. "I love making you come," I said between kisses. "Really, I hadn't noticed." We both giggled as we continued planting kisses all over our faces. "You've been doing all the work," Brenda said when we finally stopped to catch our breath. "Now it's my turn." "Heads or tails?" I asked. "Tails, of course," she replied and scooted out from under me. Still on my stomach, I waited until she positioned herself behind me before I pulled my knees in and stuck my ass up. I could feel her warm breath as she sniffed me like a puppy. Then she ran her tongue up and down my crack using the tip to tease my asshole before moving down to lick my pussy. "You smell so good," she said between licks. "Good enough to eat?" I asked with a wiggle. Her answer was a loud moan as she pressed her face into me and ate my pussy. Brenda knew how much I loved being eaten from behind and electricity shot through me when her tongue went in my pussy and her nose pushed on my anus. I reached back to spread my cheeks and she rubbed my legs and ass, her experienced tongue doing exactly what I liked. "Oh, you're such a fucking, nasty girl!" I said through clenched teeth. Suddenly the phone rang. "Shit!" Brenda said looking up. "Don't they know we're busy?" Slowly I swung around out of breath, my chest heaving. "It could be mom or dad. We've got to answer it." I took her face in my hands and pulled her mouth to mine. I could taste my pussy all over her. "Fuck!" she said as we broke the kiss. "Hold that thought." I rolled over to reach the phone on the table beside the bed. "Hello." I listened for a moment and then held my hand over the receiver. "It's Mrs. Cummings from down the street," I whispered. "She's been called into an emergency shift at the hospital and her husband's on the road. She wants to know if we could babysit Lisa tonight?" "Lisa?" "You know, her twelve-year-old." While I talked with Mrs. Cummings, I watched Brenda as she slowly slipped two fingers in and out of her pussy. She knew she was driving me crazy as she brought them up and licked off her juice. With a wicked smile, she stuck her fingers deep inside her again and then offered them to me. "Cut that out, Brenda," I whispered. "We have to decide. Do we want her over here or not?" "Well," Brenda said between licks, "how can we have fun when there's a twelve-year-old around to watch?" Then she paused for a moment and said, "Unless..." "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" I said slyly. "Maybe we could have some three-way fun." Brenda reached over and ran her hand down between my legs. "Is that all you think about?" I said, pushing her away. "Oh and you don't?" "Mrs. Cummings," I said with difficulty as Brenda played with me. "We'd love to help you out. Just send Lisa on over and don't worry about a thing. She'll be in good hands." Brenda laughed out loud at that last comment and I found it hard to keep a straight face until I hung up. "You have the dirtiest mind of anyone I know," I said. Then I leaned over and put my lips to her ear. "Besides, what if I don't want to share you with some little twelve-year-old cunt." Brenda ran her fingers through my hair. "Remember, lover, what's between my legs is yours anytime you want it." She kissed me hard, then said, "Now I wonder what it would take to get in Lisa's panties?" "She is kind of cute." I casually played with Brenda's patch of pubic fleece. "I saw her in a two-piece not too long ago," Brenda said. "She's got a nice ass and her tits are just starting to come out." "Then let's get dressed and be ready to eat, I mean greet her." We both laughed as I rolled off the bed and reached out my hand. Brenda took it and we headed down the hall arm-in-arm. "What do you wear to seduce a twelve-year-old girl?" I said. "Now who's got the dirty mind?" she said and ran her hand down my bare ass. End of part 1. Send comments to: rytr33@hotmail.com Read all my stories at: www.mrdouble.com/candykane.htm

Part 1

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11166.txt

deirdre

Model

"________ __________?" I'd just asked Mary about her career in fashion, and she started to tell me who she worked with. I couldn't believe it, but she worked with models whose names have become household words. I'd met Mary in college, where we'd managed to develop a comfortable friendship even though we never did get involved. It was a very comfortable relationship, and sometimes I miss having someone of the opposite sex (besides my sister) with whom I can compare notes without risk of misinterpretation. I'd heard she was living in the city, so I had to call and see how she was doing. We had ended up having lunch. I was amazed at how good she looked, better than she had ever looked in college. Maybe it was being in the fashion business, or maybe it was just that she had usually been a bit casual with me at school. She seemed very happy to see me. In fact, I wondered a little bit if she were interested in me. After all those college years and all the time since, it didn't seem likely. I'd known she worked in fashion, but I was certainly surprised to hear that she was involved with some of the top people in the business. "So, who can you set me up with?" I asked. We both grinned. "You wish! You like those models?" "Well, I can't help noticing them." I joked on a little bit, but mostly we talked about old times and caught up on our lives since. It was always enjoyable visiting with her, and when she had to get back to work, I was really remembering how much I missed our talks. We stood outside the restaurant and told each other goodbye. "Uh, wait," she said as I was finally turning to leave. I turned back and looked at her. She looked a little nervous and didn't say anything. "Yes?" I asked. "Listen, maybe, uh . . ." She was so tongue-tied. "I . . . could get you to see some." "Some what?" I was confused. "Some models. I could take you in the back of our show." "Oh, sure you can." I didn't believe that for a minute. "Not fair taunting me." "I'm not kidding. I think I could get you in." There we were, standing in the street, talking about this. "Really?" I wondered if she were right. She seemed to relax a little. "Tomorrow. Can you come tomorrow? I'll give you the time and place to come, and I'll come out to get you." I was definitely intrigued. "Wow! You really mean it. Who's going to be there?" I couldn't believe the list of names she gave me - I recognized more than one, and I only know the names of a few of the absolute top supermodels. "Can you come?" she asked again. I briefly wondered why she was still here - she'd told me she'd be in big trouble if she weren't back by 1:15, and she was already late. "Oh, I'll make it!" I replied. She wrote down the address and the time for me and told me to get as close to the back door as they'd let me, and she'd come out to find me. It was astonishing. No one was going to believe this. I actually rescheduled my afternoon meeting to free up my time - I'd be willing to risk a lot for this opportunity. She came out just like she said. She talked to the guard and got me through. There was a long old hall, and people were walking around all over the place. We reached the other end, and then walked into a huge room filled with people scurrying all over the place. And models! "Look but don't stare," Mary said quietly as we entered. She smiled. It would have been easy to go into a trance - there were models in various states of undress, and one model changed tops right there in front of everyone. I looked at Mary. "You like this?" she asked, then gave me a little grin. "You want to meet one, right?" she said. She led me to a group of people. One of them I recognized - it was Marena. "Marena!" Mary said. Marena looked over. Mary waved her over, and she came! "Marena, this is my friend, Jim." I was standing there like an idiot. She was absolutely fantastic. You see them in pictures and on TV, but I guess when you see them in person, you're comparing them to the people you usually see in person. She was tall and slender too, but her face and her body were just absolutely incredible! She looked at me! "You two have fun?" she asked. Rather blunt. She thought we were a couple. So much for asking her out, I joked to myself. Mary giggled and blushed. "We're just friends," she said. "How nice!" she said. She looked like she were about to leave, but another model came up and whispered in her ear. I heard Marena say "Shit!" under her breath. She whispered back, and I looked at Mary, figuring we should leave and let them talk in privacy. We were just walking away when Marena said "Wait!" We both turned around. "Listen," she went on, but then she paused. She was looking at us, and I wondered if it were the first time in the conversation she had actually paid us any real attention. "Listen," she repeated, "It turns out I've got nothing on tonight, so I think I'm going to invite some friends over just to chat. Would you two like to come up to my room just to visit and have a drink?" I was stunned. I glanced at Mary. She was stunned too. Marena waited us out. Mary looked at me with a question on her face. "Can you make it?" she asked in a low voice. She looked like her life depended on my answer. "Yes." I answered to both of them. I'd postpone my flight. "Good. See you at 9," Marena said and she turned and left! "Where?" I asked Mary. "I can find out," she answered. After that, she took me to meet some of her co-workers, but nothing was like meeting Marena like that! I saw some more naked, incredible bodies, but our encounter with Marena had me so distracted that I didn't pay attention as much as I might have. "Thanks for agreeing to tonight," Mary said when we were just walking out. "Miss my date with a supermodel?" I said, grinning. "I'm serious!" she answered, "This is exactly what my career could use - getting better acquainted with someone like her!" I could hear the excitement in her voice."I've worked with a lot of people, but it's been all business." Later, she said, "You won't change your mind, will you?" I repeated that I wouldn't, and she arranged to come pick me up 45 minutes early. There she was, right on time. She was dressed in a sexy little dress, something I seldom saw a woman wear back where I lived. She was so nervous. "Listen," she said, "this could make or break my career. You'll be nice to her, won't you?" "Sure." "I mean it. They can be moody and petty sometimes if she gets upset... could you just let it ride? Humor her?" I felt like I was understanding her concern a little more. I reassured her again, and she seemed more satisfied: I guess my voice told her I understood. We ended up waiting in the lobby for 10 minutes so that we could be up at her room at precisely 9 PM. She was still very nervous. "Hello. Oh yes, come in!" Marena had answered the door herself, and when she first looked at us, I wondered if she had forgotten inviting us. It was dark outside. She was apparently alone, and the room had only one low light turned on. We were in the living room of a little suite. "What would you like to drink?" she asked. She opened up a little refrigerator and looked in. "I could order wine. Champagne!" she said. But we didn't. Marena ended up having a beer, and Mary and I each had a drink. We sat, and Marena and Mary talked about the show and business for a little while. Marena said everyone else was coming at 10 PM. Soon, we each had another. "You've got a good man there," Marena had said it and was looking at me, up and down. "We're friends," said Mary nervously. "Does he model?" Mary laughed nervously in answer. "Let me see you," Marena said to me, "stand up." I looked at Mary. There was pleading in her eyes. I stood. I never considered myself model material. "Yes," went on Marena, "turn around." I felt so funny standing like that. They were both sitting there, Mary on the couch next to where I had been sitting and Marena in a chair facing us. I turned once around slowly. "Very nice," she went on. "I'd like to see your chest. Unbutton your shirt." This was definitely getting weirder. I looked at her to see if I could figure out what she was thinking, but I gave up. I shrugged and started unbuttoning the top buttons of my shirt. She just watched. I didn't look at Mary. I paused after two buttons, but Marena just looked at me expectantly, and I finally continued until my shirt was unbuttoned. "Mmm, yes. Take it off." I looked at Mary. She was wide-eyed. It looked to me like she didn't know what she wanted. I took off my shirt. I held it on my finger a minute, then reached out and dropped it on the couch. Believe it or not, I was thinking that I didn't know the proper way to get rid of a shirt in a situation like that. Silly. "Not bad," she said, "put your hands behind your neck. Like this." She briefly put her hands behind her neck. I followed suit. There I stood, no shirt, hands behind my neck, a genuine supermodel watching me along with... Mary. If someone had told me I'd be in that position that night, I would have laughed at them so hard. Marena stood up and walked over to me. Approaching me, she smiled very briefly as she looked at my face. Then she looked down and started unfastening my pants! A supermodel was undoing my pants! I just stood there, waiting to see how far this would go. She didn't stop and was pulling my pants and underpants down my legs! They were soon around my feet. "He's good!" she said to Mary. She seemed to be commenting on my not objecting or moving. "Get down on your hands and knees," she said to me. I felt like it was too late to protest and got down. She pulled my shoes and socks off and soon had me totally naked. "Put your shoulders down and put your hands behind your back," she said. I did it, my head facing one side. She took one of my wrists and then I felt the click of handcuffs! Then she was stuffing my underpants in my mouth - I just let her do it. I don't know what it was. I guess I was in shock. Or maybe it was just that this was Marena - I guess I'd let her do anything. She took my shirt and tied a sleeve around my ankle and soon had my ankles bound together. Then she reached under me and took my cock in her hand. "Looks like he likes this stuff," she said to Mary. Yes, I was a bit hard. She started jerking me off. In a minute, I'd shot right on the carpet. "Naughty boy," she said with a laugh. I was facing so I could see Mary. She was just staring, her mouth gaping. "Do you like the way he looks? You could have him. Now's your chance!" Mary didn't move. I heard the tell-tale jingle of a belt buckle. Marena apparently had my belt from out of my pants. Suddenly there was a sharp sting on my rear. She'd whipped me with the belt. She did it again and again, giggling. Mary still stared. "You want to do it?" Marena asked after she stopped. There was a knock on the door. Marena walked toward it, belt in hand, and suddenly I was very aware of my predicament. "Yes?" said Marena as she opened the door a crack. "Oh, hi, come in!" she said. I watched in horror as another woman walked in. I realized she must be another model, but I didn't recognize her. She looked at me and Mary and back to me and laughed. Marena got her a beer. Then she offered her the belt! The other model giggled. "Does he like it?" she asked. "I don't know. He got right in position though, when I asked him to." "What about her?" The other model was referring to Mary. "Oh, she'll do anything," said Marena. Marena stepped over to Mary and pulled her to standing. Mary didn't protest a bit. Then she leaned down and put her mouth right on Mary's. Mary just let her, and I could see that Marena's tongue was invading Mary's mouth. "Mmm," the other model said, and she smiled. She pulled off her dress and was nude! It seemed to take her just a second. She was still leering at Marena and Mary who were still dressed. Her body was incredible. She looked down at me. "You've had enough," she said and started pushing my rear with her foot. I did an odd sort of crawl, and she guided me into the bedroom. Then she was out again. I heard her through the open door: "She's gonna be fun! Got a dildo?" "Look in my small bag," came Marena's voice. The other model came back in the bedroom and rummaged around a little. Then she appeared in front of me, putting vaseline or something on a dildo. "Ready to be fucked?" she said, with a grin when she was finishing. She was too fantastic looking. Then she took it and started pushing it in my rear! "Open up," she said. "Be a good boy and I'll give you a hand job later." She pressed gently but firmly. Finally, I managed to let it in. How it felt! "Good boy," she said, and then she got a cloth and tied it around my eyes. "Now don't you go away," she said. I heard them in the living room. There was the rustling of clothes. Mary didn't say anything, but the other two talked. "Put her on the floor, I want to straddle her face," the other model said. Later: "Turn her over." I heard the whip of the belt. "She sure is willing," she said later. "She wants to butter up someone like me," came Marena's voice. "What a little slut," came the answer, "she thinks you'll help her career?" "Yep." Later, Marena was rummaging in the bedroom, and I heard them talking about strap-on dildos. "Yes, her ass," the other model said. "Absolutely," said Marena. They didn't speak for a while, but I heard them moving. "She looks like she might come!" finally came the other model's voice. "She must like this." "Oh, she does," said Marena. "Lots of them are in love with us. I'd seen this one eyeing me." Then there was another minute or so with no conversation. "When you're done, could I try it on her?" asked the other model. "No. I'm going to have her suck the guy off." I felt a twitch. Then the other model went on: "She just came! Right after you mentioned the guy! Do you think she has the hots for him?" "Of course she does. She'd marry him in a second and is desperate to get his attention. She won't be able to resist sucking him even though she knows he'll start thinking she's a little slut." Then another pause. "After that, can I do her?" asked the other model. "No. Then I'm going to do you." Pause. "My ass?" "What do you think?" said Marena. Another pause. "Oh!"

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/13902.txt

Ann Douglas

Teachers Conference

"Damn," Doreen Doyle said under her breath as the sunlight from the open window forced her to open her eyes and greet the new day. Rolling over in bed, the 26-year-old was immediately reminded of the indecent amount of alcohol she had consumed at last night's teacher's party. Sitting up in the bed, she discovered that her head still hurt a little. Who'd have ever thought that a bunch of teachers could party so hard. Doreen hadn't felt so wasted after a party since her senior year of college. Still, it had been fun, at least as much as she could remember of it. When she had been selected as a delegate from her hometown of Parkerston, Indiana, the brunette had expected to spend four days listening to boring lectures and maybe having a little time for sightseeing. After all, a free trip to San Francisco was worth a little sacrifice. What she had found instead was a few quick, quite interesting meetings every day, followed by a nightly party. Every night being a little wilder than the last, with last night's being the grand finale. She wondered if every conference was like this. If the school board knew of it, they'd never foot the bill to send anyone next year. It then occurred to her that was why every teacher who had attended an earlier conference had given her the same advice: "Just go there with an open mind and enjoy yourself." She had thought at the time they were referring to opening her mind to different theories of education. Moving to the edge of the bed, Doreen noticed her clothes from last evening scattered across the floor. She must've really been out of it when she dragged herself back to her room. Usually, she would at least pile her clothes on a chair or something. She had also been surprised to find she had slept naked, something she didn't even do with her boyfriend back home. Sliding her lower body from beneath the sheets, she was presented with an even greater shock. All of her pubic hair was gone. "What the hell did I do last night?" She asked herself as she ran her fingers across the now smooth skin between her thighs. Before Doreen could ponder the question too long, the sudden sound of running water from the bathroom made her jump with a start. There was someone in there. Grabbing her glasses from the night table, she took a good look around the room. While the room was almost a mirror image of her own hotel room, there were enough small differences to tell her she was in someone else's room. A quick glance at the other side of the twin bed showed that someone else had slept there. The inescapable conclusion was that she hadn't spent the night alone. Rubbing her head, Doreen tried to remember what had happened last night. Now fully awake, pieces of the puzzle fell into place. It wasn't the fact that she'd slept with someone that upset her so. She had, after all, been sexually active since she was 17 and slept with her boyfriend Tim on a regular basis. It was that she couldn't remember who it had been. The image of Billy Thompson suddenly filled her mind. The delegate from Seattle had been trying to hit on her since day one. Was he the guy from the other side of the bed? She did remember him trying to buy her a drink last night. The sound of running water from the bathroom abruptly stopped. In a few seconds, Doreen would see if it was Billy or not. Hopefully, it wasn't someone worse. Doreen's eyes nearly popped out of her head, and her small mouth dropped open in shock as the bathroom door swung open and a tall form walked into the room. Walking over to Doreen, the blue-clothed figure bent over and kissed her. It was a warm touch, but Doreen was too much in shock to respond. As her mystery lover moved away from her, Doreen barely heard herself being asked to lock up behind her as her lover in blue was late for a meeting. The hotel room door closed behind her lover before the reality of the situation fully hit Doreen. Her lover had been tall, blonde, and gifted with an incredible body. In addition, her lover had been the last person she could ever have imagined coming out of that door. Her name, Doreen remembered now, was Evelyn Howard. Doreen had spent the night with another woman. "Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!" Doreen thought as she jumped out of the bed. "What did I do last night?" Grabbing the various pieces of clothing scattered across the floor, Doreen quickly made for the bathroom and after a quick wash proceeded to dress. As she buttoned up her blouse, she noticed a small razor in the sink, still covered with small brown hairs. "Guess that explains where my hair went." She noted as she ran her hand through her long dark hair. Exiting the bathroom back to the main room, she carefully opened the outer door and looked into the hall. Thankfully, it was empty. Closing and locking the door behind her, she quickly moved to the elevator and hit the up button. During the short two-floor ride, Doreen felt like every person in the small elevator was staring at her. As if they all knew what she had done. When the doors finally opened on the twelfth floor, she almost ran out of them. It wasn't until the 26-year-old was safely in her room that Doreen was able to relax. Thankfully her assigned roommate was already out for the day, attending some conference or other. The school board back home hadn't been willing to pay for a private room, so she had been forced to share accommodations. She'd had little contact with her roommate, only having met her twice. A tough old biddy twice Doreen's age, she'd made no secret of her dislike of the nighttime parties and was usually already asleep by the time Doreen made it back to the room. "I need a shower," Doreen said to herself as she began to strip out of the clothing she had so hurriedly put on only twenty minutes before. The hot water felt good against her skin as the fog in her mind began to clear. She began to remember images from the night before, and by the time she had toweled dry, was forming a good picture of the events that had led her to Evelyn's bed. Wrapping herself in a warm robe, she dropped onto the unused bed and closed her eyes. As her thoughts drifted, the last ten hours began to replay in her mind like a movie. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * The noise of the Flamingo Room filled Doreen's ears, thankfully drowning out the sound of Billy Thompson's voice. The grammar school teacher from Seattle had been going on for almost twenty minutes on some subject or other, all the while stealing glances down Doreen's blouse whenever he could. Normally, Doreen liked showing off her breasts. They weren't very big, only a 34C, but she worked hard to keep them firm and pert. It was just that Billy Thompson, while sort of cute, was also an incredible bore. Over the last few nights, she tried every way she could think of to let him know she wasn't interested. She'd mentioned her boyfriend back home at least a dozen times, but still, he kept coming back. Eventually, she was just going to have to tell him to bugger off, something she really hated doing. "So I was saying to the Principal..." Billy went on as he took another deep look down Doreen's shirt. Doreen had finally had enough. Filled with liquid courage, she opened her mouth to tell Billy off when a tall blonde woman stepped alongside her. There were plenty of empty seats around the bar, so it was obvious that she wanted something from one of them. "Maybe she had the hots for 'Mr. Rogers' here and is going to take him away from me." Doreen thought hopefully. "Maybe she's a long-lost girlfriend." That hope faded as quickly as the annoyed look on Billy's face appeared. Whoever this woman was, she was no friend of his. The blonde in the bright green dress looked at Billy for a moment, then turned to Doreen and smiled. "Sweetheart, I've been looking all over for you," the older woman said in a musical tone. "I thought we were going to meet in the Kiki Kiki Room." Doreen hesitated for a moment, then quickly replied. "Oh my goodness, I'm such an airhead at times.I've been having this fascinating discussion with Billy here. By the way, have you met Billy Thompson from Seattle? I must've lost all track of time. You will forgive me, won't you? Doreen put all she could into the statement, trying to convey the idea that she was indeed supposed to meet this woman. It would have helped greatly if she knew her name. She'd seen her on a couple of discussion panels but really hadn't paid that much attention. "Of course, my pet, how could I ever stay angry at my little pearl?" "I thought you said that you came to the Conference all alone?" Billy said to Doreen. "I... I... err... did," Doreen replied. "But..." "Doreen and I are very old friends," the blonde said as she reached out and took Doreen's hand in hers. "Very close friends..." She added with a special emphasis that couldn't be mistaken. "I see... I mean I didn't know..." Billy stammered as his face turned a bright crimson. "I... have to go... excuse me." With that, he was gone. "I hope that's what you wanted," the older woman said as they watched Billy disappear from view. "I've seen him following you every night, and you looked like you'd just about had enough." "Oh yes," Doreen gushed as she smiled at the woman. "I just can't believe you got rid of him in a few minutes. I've done everything but write him a note spelling out that I wasn't interested." "Evelyn Howard, from San Diego," the tall blonde said as she reached out and again took Doreen's hand, this time for a firm handshake. "Doreen Doyle from Parkerston, Indiana," Doreen replied as she returned Evelyn's firm grip. "My friends call me Dee Dee." "Well, the first part I got right away," Evelyn grinned. "You're still wearing your name tag." Looking down, Doreen grimaced on seeing the small name plate clipped to her blouse. She quickly removed it. At least that explained how Evelyn had known her name. "Well anyway, I'm grateful," Doreen said as she slipped the tag into her pocket. "Can I at least buy you a drink?" "Certainly," Evelyn replied. "But let's move to a table. Standing at the bar attracts too many guys." By the second drink, Doreen and Evelyn were fast on their way to becoming the old friends Evelyn had fictitiously created earlier. Evelyn, Doreen learned, was 39 and the assistant principal at a junior high school back in San Diego. This was her fifth conference, and she sat on three of the permanent discussion groups. The conversation turned away from education, and Doreen talked a lot about her boyfriend, Tim, back home. He was a nice enough guy, a lot of fun, both in and out of bed. But she really wasn't sure she was ready to settle down. This was only her third trip outside of the state, and the other two had been supervised. There was so much to see and do. "Well, no one is watching over you on this trip," Evelyn said. "And there are a lot more interesting people to meet than that bore from Seattle." "You're right," Doreen said as she lifted her glass in a toast. "To so many men and so little time." So intent was she on draining her glass that she didn't notice that Evelyn didn't share in the toast. "How did you ever come up with that idea to get rid of Thompson? I never would have thought of it," Doreen asked as she put her empty glass on the table and signaled for another. "Well, sometimes with people like that, all you have to do is present them with something they just can't deal with." "Imagine," Doreen said as the waiter replaced her empty glass with a full one. "Pretending to be a lesbian and that I was your date." "Oh, I wasn't pretending," Evelyn said calmly. "I am a lesbian." Doreen nearly dropped the drink she had lifted halfway to her mouth. "It was only my date with you that I was pretending about." Doreen slowly placed the glass back on the table, her face still registering surprise. "Is that a problem?" Evelyn asked. "I really wasn't trying to pick you up or anything." "No, of course not," Doreen stammered out. "You just caught me by surprise." For the moment, Doreen took a long look at Evelyn. Lesbian. The word had never been part of her vocabulary. Back home in Parkerston, she had never even known anyone who had ever met a lesbian. At least no one who had ever admitted to it. Of course, there were always those rumors about Sylvia Johnson back in high school, but she had moved away right after graduation. Evelyn had said that she hadn't been trying to pick her up, but just the same, Doreen began to wonder if the older woman was attracted to her. While she never considered herself beautiful, she knew that men found her pretty. Was a lesbian attracted in the same way men were? A few moments of awkward silence covered the table until Evelyn finally broke it. "I can leave if you like, I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable." "Oh no, please stay," Doreen responded. "I'm sorry for staring, but you really don't fit what I always thought a lesbian would look like." Without thinking, Doreen had whispered the word "lesbian." Just like she sometimes heard the old women in her family lower their voice when they wanted to say something about someone. Like "they drink, you know" or "They had cancer surgery." It was usually something unpleasant. "You really don't have to whisper the word, Dee Dee," Evelyn said. "I don't hide the fact that I'm a lesbian. It's not some kind of disease." "I'm sorry, I didn't realize I had done it," Doreen apologized. She really felt kind of foolish. After all, she was so far from home, who would ever know she had drinks with a lesbian. As the conversation went on, Doreen found herself being captivated by the woman on the other side of the table. More and more, she found herself staring at Evelyn's ample breasts, wondering what it would feel like to touch them. It had been a long time since she had such thoughts. Back in her sorority in college, it was rumored that a few of the girls engaged in lesbian practices, but Doreen never found out if that was true. There were a few nights when she saw girls sneaking into one another's rooms, but she had never been invited. Sometimes she wished she had, just out of curiosity. Finally, the bartender called last call, and the two women got up to leave. Doreen felt a little unsteady on her feet, a combination of the alcohol and the strange excitement she felt from being with Evelyn. She knew the folks back home would never approve. Waiting for the crowds by the elevator to thin out, Doreen continued to stare at Evelyn. In return, the tall blonde seemed to be ignoring her gaze. Finally, Doreen concluded that Evelyn might be thinking that she was looking at her as if she was some kind of curiosity and decided to stop. She was curious, it was true, but it wasn't fair to treat another person as such. As the two women entered the elevator, they were joined by another man. Doreen noted that Evelyn hit the button for the tenth floor while she hit the twelfth. The stranger had pressed four. No sooner as the doors closed on the fourth floor behind the man, when Evelyn stepped over to Doreen and abruptly kissed her. Caught totally off guard, Doreen instinctively opened her mouth to protest, only to have the protest stifled by Evelyn's probing tongue. Then, as abruptly as it had begun, Evelyn broke the kiss and stepped back. "All evening, you've been wondering what that would feel like," Evelyn said as she smiled. "I could see it in the way you kept staring at me. So now you know." Doreen was still too taken back to respond. It had been both abrupt and exciting, she had to admit. Anything she then wanted to say was cut off by the chime of the elevator door's opening on ten. As Evelyn stepped off the elevator, she paused for a moment and turned to Doreen. "If you really want to see what it's like, I'm in room 1005," she said as the doors closed behind her. While the elevator moved upward, a dozen thoughts ran through Doreen's mind at once. Could she do something like that? Who would ever know? Would she ever get another chance? What would Timmy think? Did she even care? The doors opened on twelve, and she took one step out, then hesitated. Taking a deep breath, she stepped back in and pressed the button for ten. Over ten minutes passed as Doreen stood outside the door to room 1005. "What am I doing?" she asked herself for the tenth time. The elevator chimed down the hall as she heard a few people getting off on this floor. Thankfully, they went in the other direction and entered their own room. She could tell they were drunk and hadn't even noticed her. "Can't stand here all night," Doreen said to herself in a low voice. "Either go forward or back." Taking a deep breath, she finally knocked on the door. Long seconds passed, and she thought Evelyn might have already gone to bed. She was thinking of leaving when a voice called from behind the locked door. "Who is it?" "Doreen..." She managed to stammer out. A second later, the door swung open, and she stepped inside. The room wasn't much different than her own. Same color, same furniture, same boring art on the walls. Her head turned as Evelyn locked the door behind her. The tall blonde was now wearing a blue terrycloth robe. Her hair had been unclipped and combed out, hanging loosely around her shoulders. It was also slightly damp, telling Doreen she had just come out of the shower. "Did you forget something?" Evelyn asked as she smiled. "I was thinking about what you said in the elevator," Doreen said, her eyes fixed on the soft valley between Evelyn's breasts that was visible through the folds of the robe. "And...?" Evelyn asked. "And, I think I'd like to know more," Doreen said somewhat hesitantly. "You think...?" Evelyn said in a strong voice. "Either you do or you don't. Now which is it?" "I want to learn more," Doreen said, this time with conviction. Evelyn's smile grew larger.She reached out and ran her fingers down across Doreen's cheek. The school teacher from Indiana found the touch unbelievably erotic. Her long index finger slid down across Doreen's face and caressed her small lips. Evelyn slid her finger into Doreen's mouth and let her suck on it for a few moments. Pleased with the young woman's willingness, Evelyn removed her finger and took a step back. The bright smile grew to its fullest. "I told you in the bar that I was a lesbian," she said as she took the same finger and ran her tongue across it. "What I didn't mention was that I'm also a dominant. Do you understand what that is?" Doreen had seen the word in a few books, she wasn't totally ignorant. She nodded yes. "Tell me what you think it is?" Evelyn demanded. "I would guess that it's someone who's into Slave and Master situations," Doreen said, proud of her being able to answer. "A person who was a......" She hesitated a moment as she tried to remember the word. ".......Dominatrix," she finally remembered. "Very good," Evelyn said. "But there are various levels and situations that go with that." Doreen looked confused for a moment, her reading hadn't covered anything like that. "I'm not into whip, chains, leather or anything like that," Evelyn laughed softly as she now ran her finger down the deep valley of her 38D's. She could feel Doreen's eyes glued to its journey. "I just enjoy the feeling of being in total control. Do you think you could handle something like that?" Doreen thought about it for a few long seconds, her eyes riveted on the drop of saliva running between Evelyn's mounds until it disappeared beneath the robe. If Evelyn had asked her this a half hour ago in the elevator, Doreen was sure she would've ran as fast as she could. Now after taking the giant steps which had brought her this far, she only felt exhilaration instead of fear. "Yes I could," she replied in a solid tone. "Really now?" Evelyn countered. With a flourish, the taller woman turned and walked over to the edge of the bed. She motioned for Doreen to follow. Standing at the edge of the bed, Evelyn hiked her left leg up onto the bed. She pulled loose the sash around her waist, allowing the robe to fall open. Doreen took a long hard look at the naked body that had just been unveiled. It certainly wasn't that of a 20-year-old, but neither was it that of a woman pushing 40. Her large breasts were still full and only sagged a little. They were capped by silver dollar-sized aureole, which in turn were topped by eraser-sized nipples - already hard and erect. So enthralled by Evelyn's endowments, the younger woman didn't notice at first something she hadn't seen since junior high school gym: a totally nude pussy. A wicked grin on her face, Evelyn reached down and spread her vaginal lips with her hand, drawing Doreen's attention to its bareness. "I want you to lick me!" She commanded. Doreen dropped to her knees without a moment's hesitation, so compelling had been the command. She looked up at the tall blonde and saw a pair of piercing blue eyes bearing down upon her. Then she looked forward into the pinkness stretched open in front of her. "Last chance to back out..." Doreen said to herself as she dropped her gaze to the floor and removed her glasses. Then with less hesitation than she showed the first time she took a boy in her mouth, the 26-year-old grammar school teacher reached out with her tongue and stroked the sex of another woman. "Mmmmm, this is pretty nice," Doreen thought as she explored the inner reaches of Evelyn's canal. The young woman found it pleasantly surprising that she actually liked the taste that now filled her mouth. Prior to this moment, she had never sampled the juices of a woman, not even her own. Based on the comments of both her boyfriend Tim and two previous lovers, she had expected it to be somewhat gross. At least that was the excuse they had always given for not doing it for more than a few minutes, just enough to help get her wet before intercourse. After giving Doreen ample time to become comfortable with exploring her womanhood, Evelyn took a gentle grip on the back of Doreen's head and helped guide her tongue to the most sensitive spots. "Not bad for a novice," Evelyn chuckled as she pressed the brunette's face deep between her legs. Doreen took that as praise and increased the motion of her tongue. Her face was now smeared with the sticky juices, but she didn't care. Without even checking, she knew that her own pussy, still covered by her panties, was also wet. "I guess you can handle it," Evelyn said as she released her grip on Doreen's head and guided her back to her feet. As soon as Doreen stood up, Evelyn pulled her close and kissed her again. This kiss was much more aggressive than the one in the elevator. Evelyn really loved the taste of her pussy on another woman's lips and after running her tongue along the interior of Doreen's now willingly open mouth, she began to lick it off her cheeks. "Strip for me," Evelyn whispered in Doreen's ear as she nibbled on the lobe. "Make me hot for your body." Doreen took a big step back and reached behind her for the zipper of her dress. She had never stripped for anyone before. Usually the men she'd been with wanted her naked as quickly as possible. She remembered an old adult movie she had seen in a motel she and Tim had once spent a few hours in. Incredibly, he had switched on the television after their lovemaking and watched part of an adult film for the last hour of their stay. Dropping her dress to the floor, she tried to copy the woman she had seen that night. Cupping both breasts in her hands, Doreen played with them for a few moments before releasing the front clasp. Then with an exaggerated shimmy, she let the plain white bra fall away from her mounds and drop off her arms. She returned her hands to her breasts, now running her fingers across the nipples. The girl in the film had breasts large enough to pull up within reach of her own tongue, Doreen knew she couldn't duplicate that. Instead, she wet the tips of her fingers and rubbed the last remnants of love juice from her face, then spread it across her nipples. Evelyn had laid back against the headboard and was playing with her own breasts with one hand and sliding two fingers of the other into her pussy. "That's right," she purred. "Put on a show." Doreen's slip followed the bra to the floor and she stood only covered by a cheap pair of cotton panties. She slid both her hands beneath the waistband and let out a loud sigh. Then thrusting her shoulders back and her chest out with each motion, she began to rub her own clit. "Take it off!" Evelyn encouraged from the bed. Doreen continued to rub herself, now adding pelvic thrusts to her gyrations. Then with as much strength as she could muster, she expanded a previous small tear in the material and ripped her panties off. Now totally exposed was a wild growth of bushy brown hair. No sooner had the now torn material hit the floor when Evelyn jumped from the bed and grabbed Doreen's shoulders. With a powerful shove, she tossed the smaller woman onto the bed. Then lifting each of her legs up and outward, she dropped down and buried her head between them. "Oh God!" Doreen exclaimed as she felt the wet touch of Evelyn's tongue. It was like a spark of electricity that shot up and throughout her body. The first jolt was followed by a second and a third, until it became a constant wave of delight. Evelyn's skillful use of her tongue instantly showed years of experience. In only a minute, she had brought Doreen to a place she had only imagined before. The pressure against her sex increased, driving her further and further into a euphoric state. Her breathing quickened as she forced air into her lungs in short gasps. She gripped the sheet beneath her, balling it up in her closed fists. Doreen could feel the crest of an orgasm fast approaching, far faster than she could have ever brought it on herself. Rocking the bed, she began to lunge her pelvis against Evelyn's face, trying to match the blonde's own thrusts. Finally, her body began to shake as indescribable pleasure filled her existence. "Ooohh God!" She yelled in a high-pitched voice. Evelyn took a firm grip on Doreen's ass and practically lifted it off the bed. She ran her tongue up and down the hair-covered opening as fast as possible, finally sending her new-found lover over the edge. "YYYeeeesssss!" Doreen now screamed at the top of her lungs, not caring who heard. The shout was music to Evelyn's ears.

Part One

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11490.txt

sfmaster@worldnet.att.net

The Challenge

"Mistress, are you all right?" asked Andrea, concern and worry on her face. "What?" answered Erica, struggling back to consciousness. Erica realized that she had fallen asleep at her desk, resting her hands on the desktop, her arms for pillows. She had gone into the library to write a report on that new girl, Janet Davis, whom she had used the previous weekend. Then she had dropped off to sleep, exhausted. "Are you all right?" "I'm tired," answered Erica. "I'll get you some coffee, Mistress. Then we have something to discuss," replied Andrea as she left the library for the kitchen. Erica wanted to get to her feet to follow Andrea, but found that she was too tired even to do that. She had used Janet all weekend, and now here it was Sunday afternoon, and she felt like she had run the NYC Marathon! "Here's some coffee, Mistress," said Andrea after she returned and handed Erica a steaming cup. "Thank you, Andrea," replied Erica as she sipped at the black liquid, the heat and caffeine restoring her. "You're welcome, Mistress." "What do you want to talk to me about, Andrea? And please take a seat." "Thank you, Mistress," answered Andrea as she sat in a library chair directly opposite Erica, "it's about Janet Davis." "Go ahead." "Why are you training her?" "Sally suggested that her friend wanted to try something new, since her sex life was a bore. Which was what she told me verbally, and in her written bio." "Do you really believe that, Mistress? That a normal heterosexual woman who is bored with her vanilla sex life would suddenly decide to serve a Dominatrix? Plus the fact that she has no experience in the scene." "What of it?" "She must have had some boring sex life then. I would have thought that you would have been at least more curious before you placed her under the lash," commented Andrea. "Are you questioning my judgement?" "Yes, Mistress, when it concerns your reputation as a Domme," pointed out Andrea. "What else? I know that look in your face, Andrea, out with it." "What happened Saturday night?" "I don't know what you're talking about," answered Erica. "Did Janet tire you out? I know how you train new slaves, Mistress. And you wimped out on using the whip on her. That is, unless you want her to become Tiffany's lover?" "I felt that she had been used enough," answered Erica. "All right then, I suggest that you compare her training records to those of the others. You will find that she hasn't received nearly enough use as compared with the others at the same stage of their training." "Thank you, Andrea, for bringing that to my attention," said Erica. "I think that if a new girl like Janet can tire you out, I suggest that you see a doctor, Mistress." "Next week, Andrea," answered Erica, afraid to go back to a doctor. "Tomorrow, Mistress. Please?"The car horn behind her had startled Erica back to the real world, and she pressed on the gas to get moving into traffic. She pulled over into a McDonald's and ordered coffee, and wished for a drink instead. Death. She had cheated death when Stephanie had saved her life, inadvertently placing her on the path to submission when she had been a painslut to Mistress Martine. Then, in a strange twist of fate, she had saved Stephanie from serving Lauren, who had learned all of the wrong lessons from their common Master, Daniel. Erica had died twice, but as Alana Peters. First after the car accident that had placed her on the path to D/s. Then in her Amazon trip to Brazil when she abandoned her former life to become Erica Riken. She swallowed, and wanted a cigarette. After finishing her coffee, she drove the remaining distance home and told Andrea that she wanted to be alone in the library. Fortunately, she had no sessions today. Else they would have been canceled also. 'I don't want to be an object of pity,' Erica thought to herself, 'a Domme who can't hold a crop.' For the first time in years, she buried her face in her hands and cried. Tears fell from her eyes, into her hands. They leaked onto the desktop blotter through her fingers, falling like raindrops. Part Two: Janet Davis July 1992 "It's been a long time," said Karla. Erica had called Karla to investigate Janet Davis, to have him dig into her past and provide a full biography for her. They met in a parking lot to exchange money for his work. "Have you done what I asked?" "Yes, here it is," he said, handing it over, "pretty small fry, don't you think?" "That's my affair," answered Erica. "Janet Davis, secretary. Earns eighteen thousand a year. Works in Manhattan. Drives a ten-year-old Plymouth. Hardly the type to circulate in your circles, don't you agree?" "Thought you didn't ask questions?" "I don't," replied Karla as he opened the car door, "see you next time." "Thanks." 'If there is a next time,' thought Erica. It was Saturday morning, and Janet would be helping Andrea with the household chores. She was treated like any new prospect: kept naked, collared and wearing bracelets, and her feet locked into punishing five-inch high-heels. Before she had left the house, Janet had been paraded in front of Erica. Andrea had bathed and perfumed her, and Janet seemed eager and ready to serve. Her naked skin was freshly marked from the session that she had undergone the previous evening. Sally had told Erica that her friend was a little sexually inexperienced. She should have said that Janet was very sexually inexperienced, that had been a great understatement and Sally would one day pay for her inaccurate remarks. The house seemed like a prison, and Erica had wanted to get away for a while. She went to a restaurant and got a booth all the way in the back, away from others. There she ordered a Coke and sat reading Janet's file. Middle-class upbringing, public schools, Queens College. Parents dead, one brother in Colorado. No serious debts, disdains jewelry, dresses well (worked at Macy's starting in High School), owns an old car. Takes the train every day to work in Manhattan. The very life that Alana had wanted to have was an anonymous one that would have left her free to enter the world of submission. But Erica had not been free, really. Serving Daniel, unable to have Keith for her Master, finally discovering that her true talent had been as a Dominatrix. Once Erica had gotten Karla's report on Janet, she had wanted to demand the reason for why she had wanted to serve a Mistress. If necessary, she would beat the reason out of her, then send her packing. 'No,' Erica thought to herself in silence, sipping at her Coke, 'I knew nothing about submission either until I met Martine. I could afford Martine, couldn't I? But Janet certainly can't afford the fee that I usually charge the rich women of Greenwich to beat their bottoms.' "Want some lunch?" asked the waitress, a pretty brunette. "No thanks, just thinking. Please get me another Coke?" "Sure." Erica stared at the ice cubes floating in the brown liquid, watching them swirl around in the glass. 'I'm going to train Janet like all the others, even if I'm sick and she will be my last slave. She deserves a good Mistress that will love and respect her, even if I can't love her in return. Maybe I'll respond to treatment, maybe my energy will come back so that I can take her to bed. She's the first slave to ever wear me out, and she's not even trained yet.' Erica placed a few dollar bills under the empty glass and walked out into the July heat. She couldn't wait to get home as she got behind the wheel of her BMW. When she got home, Andrea had Janet waiting for inspection, but Erica wanted to place her file in the safe first. Then she would see Janet, alone. "Enter!" called Erica. "Yes, Mistress," answered Janet. Janet walked in the library slowly, measuring each step in the heels that she was forced to wear. Erica noted that the woman had managed to become used to being kept naked after only a few weeks. Good, that was the first and hardest hurdle to jump. After that, being used physically and sexually would come quickly. "Kneel." "Yes, Mistress Erica." "Have you ever served a Mistress before, been whipped or cropped?" asked Erica. "No, Mistress." "Ever been spanked by another woman?" "Not until I came to serve you, Mistress Erica." "Why do you want to serve a Mistress, Janet?" asked Erica. "My sex life with men was unsuccessful, so I wanted to try something new. Sally has told me of how she enjoys submission, so I wanted to give it a try," nervously answered Janet, as she swallowed a huge lump in her throat. "Just like that? You knew that you would be whipped, cropped, and sexually used, yet you still wanted to serve a Mistress?" "Yes, Mistress Erica, those are my reasons." "It's all right, Janet. They are quite good enough for me, and I said last month that I was satisfied with your interview," explained Erica, "now I want you to get on my lap, because I want to use a hairbrush on that bottom of yours." Erica rose from the desk chair, picked up the brush, then seated herself on the leather couch. She watched as Janet did as she had been ordered, presenting her naked bottom for Erica's use. "Are you submissive Janet?" asked Erica. "I want to learn submission, Mistress Erica," answered Janet. Erica fondled Janet's firm breasts, holding the globes in her right hand. She then placed her hand between Janet's legs and felt the already wet sex. Her slit was moist and wet with excitement! "Are you going to behave?" demanded Erica. "Yes, Mistress." "You're such a good girl, Janet." Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! The hard wood of the brush smacked against Janet's upraised bottom, making her flinch with each stroke. Even though each stroke was harder than the one before, Janet resolutely remained seated on Erica's lap. Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! "That's enough for now, Janet, I'll be using you tonight in the Dungeon after Dinner." "Thank you, Mistress," cried Janet as she got shakily to her feet. "You've done very well, Janet, for a new girl in so short a time," complimented Erica. "Thank you, Mistress." "Now go help Andrea in the kitchen with Dinner." "Yes, Mistress." 'Yes,' thought Erica, 'I shall train her with love and understanding. If she's so eager to learn submission then I must train her.' "What is your safeword, Janet?" "Mercy, Mistress." "Make sure that you do not forget it," advised Erica. "Yes, Mistress!" Janet was on her knees in the Dungeon, her hands bound above her head to the ceiling chain. Her breasts protruded, and she was sweating from the use that she had already undergone earlier. Taking a wooden stool from the wall, Erica sat down in front of Janet and held a crop in her hands, flexing the leather-covered bamboo in her gloved hands. The crop had a leather pad at the end, which was what would be used on her. Erica could see how Janet watched the pad with anticipation in her eyes. "Hold out your breasts." Janet did so, and her reward was to have them struck several times lightly with the crop. She did not flinch, cry out, or draw back. Instead, she remained in place and took the crop on her pretty well-formed breasts, which bounced slightly after each impact. "Very good, Janet." "Thank you, Mistress." Erica got to her knees and began to lick and suck at Janet's erect nipples, making the woman moan in response. What the crop could not do, Erica's mouth would do instead. "Ah!" cried Janet. "Slut!" commented Erica, her mouth full of Janet's breast. Erica then placed one of her hands between Janet's legs, and the slave opened her legs to facilitate the entrance of Erica's fingers into her love box. Janet moaned as her Mistress probed her privates. "Do you want to be my slave?" asked Erica. "Yes, Mistress." Erica could smell Janet's sweat from her use, but it wasn't the scent of fear. Rather, it was of pleasure, for that was what she wanted. "Andrea shall have you tonight, Janet. Only after you have proven yourself to me shall I take you into my bed," stated Erica. "Please Mistress, make love to me?" asked Janet, disappointment in her voice. "Not yet, Janet, not yet." On Monday morning, when it was just Erica and Andrea in the house, Erica had ordered a cheese omelet for breakfast. Instead, Andrea cooked two scrambled eggs and a small steak. Erica ate everything in silence. "What's wrong, Mistress?" asked Andrea, "why are you taking those iron pills, vanishing for hours, then eating beef constantly?" "That's my affair, Andrea." "Then why didn't you take Janet to bed on Saturday night, she certainly earned it?""All right, then, Andrea, sit down!" commanded Erica. Andrea sat in one of the dining room chairs, next to Erica. She waited in silence. "I'm sick, Andrea. I have leukemia, I may be dying," said Erica as she broke down in tears, "and I'm so scared." "Mistress," answered Andrea as she held Erica close to her, as the Domme cried, the tears falling from her eyes. Part Three: Excalibur October 1992 The treatments had begun to work and Erica had started to feel normal again. Her energy was returning, along with her sex drive. Mistress Erica had returned to her regular schedule and habits. Until the phone call had come from Dr. Anderson. Even with the treatments, it was just a temporary respite. She was still seriously ill, and had just three years to live. Andrea was preparing lunch in the kitchen when Erica walked in. She was just about to tell Erica that lunch would be ready soon. "Mistress?" asked Andrea. Erica removed a can of Coke from the fridge, then opened it and sat on a chair. She took a long swallow before she began to speak in a soft voice. "That was Dr. Anderson, Andrea. I'm dying. I may feel better now, but it's just temporary. I'll start to decline again, become weak and sick again. If you want, I'll release you from your contract. Being a nurse wasn't part of the contract that we signed." Ding! "Lunch is ready, Mistress. Chicken pot pie," stated Andrea. "Let's eat together in here," said Erica, "screw formality for once." "Yes, Mistress." Mistress and slave sat down to an informal lunch of salad, pot pie, sodas, and finally cake. Erica stayed in the kitchen after eating, just to talk and have some company. "You know," said Erica, "the funny thing is that I died twice already." "Mistress?" questioned Andrea as she did the dishes. "Just a figure of speech, Andrea." "Perhaps you could die again, and live once more, as someone else," suggested Andrea, "but have someone take your place." "I wish that I could do that, Andrea." * * * * * * "Wake up, Andrea," insisted Erica as she shook her slave awake. "What's wrong Mistress?" Andrea looked at the clock and saw that it was three in the morning. "What did you say after lunch?" "About what?" sleepily answered Andrea. "Dying and living again?" "If you were to die and have someone take your place, Mistress," Andrea answered, still half asleep. "Yes, that's it!" said Erica as she sat down on Andrea's bed. "What?" "I love you, Andrea." "Yes, Mistress," replied Andrea, convinced that Erica had finally gone crazy, somehow. * * * * * * "Sit down, Andrea. I have a question to ask you. What do you think of Tiffany Gray?" Erica and Andrea sat in the kitchen after breakfast, sharing another pot of coffee together. Outside was a dark gray winter sky. "Selfish, unstable, a liar, I have never trusted her, Mistress. I have even suggested that you cease being her Mistress." "Yes, Andrea, I remember. What do you think of Janet Davis?" "Eager to please you and learn, faithful. Willing to submit to you in all things. The best slave you've had in a long time, Mistress. I'm sorry that I ever suggested that you shouldn't train her." "Perfect then. Tell me, Andrea, if you died, would anybody miss you?" "You know that I'm all alone in the world, Mistress. I was an only child, and my parents are dead." "So if you vanished into a harem, you wouldn't be missed?" "No, Mistress." "How would you like to join me then in death and rebirth?" asked Erica. "Wait a minute, Mistress. You're not thinking of doing what I suggested yesterday are you?" questioned Andrea. "Yes," answered Erica, sipping her coffee, "yes, and I need your help. Janet must be trained and quickly while I still have the strength to do it." "Between Janet and Tiffany? How?" "A competition both financial and in Dominance and submission. Each to be awarded a portfolio of stock, they have to run the house for a year supervised by Blanca Sanchez, their activities monitored by her also then the winner gets the estate. Plus the loser as her slave," Erica described in detail. "Tiffany will cut her to pieces, Mistress," stated Andrea. "That's why we have to train her correctly, now don't we? When I loan Janet to Stephanie, I'll tell her not to place Janet on the rack, for example." "She will, anyway, you know how much she loves a new girl. And Janet is just the sort that she desires." "I'm counting on it, Andrea," answered Erica. Part Four: The Final Plans May 1993 It was only by her strength of will that Erica had managed to retain enough strength to continue training Janet. She had given many of her other slaves and paying clients to other Dommes, simply because she no longer had the energy to service them all. Some of her wealthy clients were bitterly disappointed, complained that she had serviced their submissive needs for years. That Erica had been the perfect Dominatrix, and that they would gladly pay her anything to continue. Erica had never been a Domme for the money. She had been quite well off from the family estate before she had began as Mistress Erica serving the needs of the elite in Greenwich CT. Over the years, she had taken her earnings, and placed them into the stock market. In 1987, she had made a killing by suddenly liquidating everything in the family's stock portfolio, including stock that had been held for generations. Weeks before the crash, she had sold everything, sensing that the market was simply too high. In just one decision, she had increased her cash position many times, and she had called on Blanca to keep her name out of the Wall Street Journal. Strange how in 1980, when she had done her first deal as an investment banker, she had wanted an article about her in the Journal so very much. Now, in her position as Domme, even though she had amassed a vast fortune in her own name, publicity was the last thing that she had wanted. She had bought portfolios of stock again for both Janet and Tiffany, and had arranged for brokers to handle their accounts, beginning after her death. Enough money had been siphoned off into accounts into the Cayman Islands that would provide her with enough money to live on in the time remaining to her, and to set Andrea up with a comfortable estate as well. She could have used Switzerland for numbered accounts, but the Caymans were a lot closer. Somehow the prospect of her own death no longer frightened her as it did almost a year earlier. Creating the competition between two of her slaves had given her a purpose and goal to continue living. She would even live the year to see who would win the competition. Janet's slave training had been almost rushed to an incredible degree. Used herself one week, she had been allowed to use other slaves the next. Every week that Erica had called to arrange for her Friday night pickup, she had been afraid that Janet would refuse her. Instead Janet eagerly sought to please her Mistress, having no idea of what was in reality being planned for her. Even when Stephanie had scared her half to death by placing her on the rack, Janet still wanted to serve a Mistress. It was only icing on the cake when Stephanie had allowed Janet to use her own slave Camille for a transgression. 'I'm sorry, Janet,' Erica thought in silence. 'I'm going to place you in a test that you know nothing about, possibly endanger your life, in a competition with a woman that you think of as your lover and friend, Tiffany. Please forgive me?' Janet had been bound and whipped into a sexual frenzy, her body covered in stripes every week. Her pussy had been shaved for months now, with Andrea shaving her each Sunday on her departure. Janet had never commented or protested to Erica about that new violation of her womanhood. Erica wondered sometimes just how much internal strength that the woman really had, her personality certainly didn't betray any indication of the nerves of steel that Janet must possess. Her choice of Janet against Tiffany would place two almost exact opposites against the other. Janet was cool, calm, and determined. Tiffany was emotional, easily excited, and possessed a short attention span. Tiffany would no doubt regard her sudden wealth as a gift from heaven. Janet would be far more suspicious about her sudden change in status. Even more so when she was fired from her job, and would find the clues around the house that Erica would have left for the two of them. It would not take long for them to realize that they were in for the test of their lives. 'Forgive me, both of you, for the ton of bricks that are about to fall on you,' thought Erica, 'but I don't want to go out as an object of pity, a sick Domme dying in a few years.' The week before, she had used Tiffany alone in the house, giving Janet the week off. Now it was Janet's turn, and Erica was determined to use her in the most sensual manner possible, as a last parting gift to her final slave. Erica had also made it her business to bring Janet to a few parties and clubs to show her around. She wanted others in the D/s community to know that Janet was her slave, but for far different reasons than normal. "Mistress," interrupted Andrea from the library door, "Janet has arrived." "Thank you, Andrea, you may conduct her into the library after you take her coat." "Yes, Mistress." Janet was soon seated in front of Erica. She was wearing a white blouse, plaid skirt, and red hose and heels. Holding herself stiffly, waiting for the first orders of her Mistress. "What did you do the previous weekend, Janet?" asked Erica. "I went out on Friday and Saturday nights as you ordered, Mistress. To a local bar and a disco." "What happened?" "Nothing, Mistress. A few men tried to pick me up, but none of them appealed to me.""So you disobeyed my instructions to go home with a man to have sex so that he could see your marks?" "Yes, Mistress," Janet truthfully answered. Erica had her followed the whole two nights, and all of the contacts she had made had been reported back to Erica. "You have disobeyed my instructions, Janet. You do realize that this will mean a severe punishment?" "Yes, Mistress." "I shall use you harshly and make you cry, Janet. I shall leave your flesh marked more heavily than usual, for the crime of disobedience." "Yes, Mistress." "Strip," ordered Erica. Without any hesitation, Janet rose to her feet and silently and quickly removed all of her clothing. She folded all of her clothes neatly on the chair that she had just occupied, and soon stood naked in front of Erica. "Get up on one of the other chairs," commanded Erica. Janet did as she was told, her knees resting on the leather cushions, holding onto the top of the chair with her hands. Her breasts pushed against the seat back cushion. She waited for Erica's next move. From the desk drawer, Erica removed a paddle, which she held in her right hand. She slapped it against her left as a display of power. "Do you consent to your use, Janet?" "Yes, Mistress Erica." "What is your safeword?" "Mercy, Mistress Erica." Erica rose from the desk and stood behind Janet. The paddle was offered to Janet's lips, and she kissed it without having it ordered to. Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! "Thank you, Mistress!" cried Janet after five harsh strokes that quickly reddened her bottom. Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! "Thank you, Mistress!" Erica placed her hand against Janet's bottom, and the red flesh was hot from the ten strokes. She then placed her hand up between Janet's legs to her shaven sex, and probed within. "Do you miss your pubic hair?" asked Erica. "Yes, Mistress," cried Janet. "How does having your sex like this feel?" "I feel naked, even when I'm wearing clothes," answered Janet, "when my panties rub against my pubes, Mistress." "Does this always remind you of me?" "Yes, Mistress." "Get off the chair and take your clothes to Andrea. She will outfit you and place you in the Dungeon for my use. Do not disappoint me this weekend, Janet." "No, Mistress." "Go!" Erica watched as Janet fairly ran out of the library, naked and holding her clothes. There was no longer any doubt; her submission was now total to her Mistress. Erica had dressed in a sleeveless Catsuit with just a pair of modest matching black heels. She had placed a belt around her waist to accentuate her figure, from which she had hung a pair of gleaming stainless steel handcuffs for effect. In the Dungeon was Janet, already bound against the whipping post. Her legs were locked open about two feet, her hands behind her back that was against the wooden post itself. Andrea had placed a leather strap above her breasts and one around her waist, welding Janet to the device. "Helpless, aren't we?" asked Erica upon her entrance. "Yes, Mistress." "I'm going to strike you with a crop on your breasts and stomach, with the rod itself. It will hurt and mark, but only for ten strokes. For the crop and paddle will only be your warmup for tonight." "Yes, Mistress." Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! "Thank you, Mistress!" cried Janet, tears flowing from her eyes, for Erica had struck her tender breasts. Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! "Thank you, Mistress!" "Very good, Janet," complimented Erica, "hang her from the ceiling, Andrea. Janet shall be flogged tonight, then whipped tomorrow." "Yes, Mistress." When Janet was hanging by her wrists, Erica made certain to place clamps on her nipples and shaven sex, making her moan with each application. She cried out, but did not ask for their removal. "Perhaps I shall use clothespins on you next time, Janet. They can provide quite a bit of agony as well." "Yes, Mistress," cried Janet. "Kiss the flogger." Erica had chosen a heavy leather flogger. It would hurt fiercely, and mark immediately as well. "Two weeks ago, I used you lightly. Do you remember?" "Yes, Mistress." "I shall make up for not using you properly, and last week as well." "Thank you, Mistress." "You shall count each stroke, and thank me after every five." "Yes, Mistress." "One!" "Two!" "Three!" "Four!" "Five, thank you, Mistress!" The only sound in the Dungeon was the heavy thud of the flogger and Janet's counting of each stroke. Her body bound, and now punished severely by Erica, Janet instead hung proudly in her chains. "Six!" "Seven!" "Ten! Thank you, Mistress!" Erica watched in admiration as her slave soaked up every heavy stroke of the flogger. Just a year before, Janet had known nothing, indeed had not been spanked since childhood. Now she was a true slave in sub-space, able to divorce her body from her mind. "Eleven!" "Thirteen!" "Fifteen! Thank you Mistress!" There were no tears in Janet's eyes as she was flogged, she merely strained against her bonds. Her pretty breasts with the clamps on her nipples shook with every stroke from the flogger. "Eighteen!" "Twenty! Thank you Mistress!" Erica paused briefly to run her fingertips over Janet's heated and punished flesh. Janet was going to be severely used this night, but she did not cry out. Instead she awaited Erica's next move. "You're very beautiful, Janet," complimented Erica. "Thank you, Mistress," panted Janet in response. "Just a few more strokes, Janet." "Yes, Mistress." "Twenty-one!" "Twenty-three!" "Twenty-five! Thank you Mistress!" gasped Janet, her chest heaving. "Twenty-seven!" "Thirty! Thank you Mistress!" "Thirty-three!" "Thirty-five! Thank you Mistress!" cried Janet, tears falling from her eyes. "Thank you, Janet," said Erica, as she kissed her slave on the lips, "you're very brave, and loyal." "Mistress..." Janet's body was covered in fresh red marks and drenched with sweat. Her hair that had been so nice earlier in the night was now a mess of tangles. But the girl had never looked so proud under Erica's lash before. "Andrea, release her, give her a bath, then have her in my bedroom in an hour or so. I want to have my slave show her appreciation in the arts of love," ordered Erica. "Yes, Mistress," answered Andrea. "I love you, Janet," said Erica. "I love you too, Mistress." Erica left the Dungeon, not even bothering to have Janet kiss the flogger that she handed to Andrea on the way out. She made it back to the library, then sank into the chair, exhausted from the ordeal that she had just inflicted on Janet. 'I'm dying,' Erica thought to herself as she buried her face in her hands, then began to cry alone. Erica entered her bedroom, to find Janet waiting naked on the floor. Her hands were locked behind her back, her collar chained to the ring-bolt set in the wall. "Are you ready to make love to your Mistress?" asked Erica. "Yes, Mistress Erica!" Quickly, Erica removed the shoes and Catsuit, and underneath she wore a lace black bra and panties, which she quickly removed. While Andrea had been bathing Janet, Erica had fallen asleep. She had needed a short nap to recharge before sex. Erica sat on the edge of the bed, and allowed Janet to begin by servicing her while she was still bound on the floor. This way, all she could use was her lips, tongue, and teeth to bring Erica to orgasm. Quickly Janet began to work on Erica's love nest, her lips touching Erica's sex lips, her tongue probing deep inside her love canal tickling her love bud. Janet pushed herself against Erica, inhaling the scent of her secretions, knowing that she was satisfying her Mistress. "Ah!" cried Erica. It had not taken Janet long at all for Erica to be stimulated into orgasm as Janet tickled her clit time after her. She threw her head back and moaned, her bottom bouncing on the bed. Erica then pulled Janet onto the bed, and quickly released her hands. She then lay down on the bed and opened her legs to admit Janet once more to her sex. With only that pause, Janet began again to satisfy her Mistress. They both moaned in pleasure as Janet brought Erica one orgasm after another, all of her energies and training directed at the singular goal of pleasing the Mistress. "Ah!" "Ah!" cried Erica. Sweat poured off Erica's body as she bounced on the bed, screaming her pleasure from one orgasm after another. Janet held onto her thighs, and continued to bury her face between Erica's legs. Finally, Erica was spent, her breaths ragged from the waves of pleasure that had washed through her like a tidal wave. She lay on the pillow, unmoving. "Are you all right, Mistress?" asked Janet. "Yes, Janet," Erica lied, "just a little jet lag I returned from California yesterday." "Yes, Mistress." "Come here, Janet, I want to hold you in my arms, for you are truly my best and most loving slave." Janet did as she was instructed, and held onto Erica. Why was her Mistress sweating so much? "Let me make love to you, Janet." "Yes, Mistress," said Janet. In contrast to Janet's hurried lovemaking, Erica began by playfully sucking on Janet's nipples. Her arms enfolded Janet, their scents mingling together as one. Erica then began to suck at Janet's pussy, and slowly brought her to orgasm, her tongue tickling Janet's clit. Her languid lovemaking continued, until Janet shook with one climax after another. "Janet, would you like a drink?" asked Erica. "Yes, Mistress." Erica got two glasses of water from the bathroom, and they both drank together. "Thank you, Janet," said Erica. "For what, Mistress." "Everything," answered Erica as she closed the lights, then threw the sheets and quilt on the bed, then she joined Janet under the covers.Erica was asleep within minutes, leaving Janet puzzled by Erica's lack of energy. Janet lay on her back and let sleep claim her too, the taste of Erica still upon her lips. Erica awoke with a start. Sunlight poured through the windows, and Janet was no longer chained beside her. Instead, she was alone in bed, naked under the covers as she had fallen asleep during the night. "Mistress?" asked Andrea from the door. "What time is it?" "Ten, Mistress Erica." Andrea entered the bedroom, carrying a tray in her hands. She placed it on the bed after Erica sat up. "Where's Janet?" "Chained in the kitchen, Mistress. Since you couldn't awaken, I took her, gave her a bath and breakfast, and told you had a case of jet lag. Then I brought up a tray for you." "Oh god, Andrea. It's the end. I can't continue," cried Erica as she buried her face in her hands. "Just one more night, Mistress. One more use of Janet, that's all. Here's your juice and pills." "Thank you," answered Erica as she drank her orange juice, then downed her medication and iron pills. "You're welcome, Mistress Erica. Breakfast is scrambled eggs, toast, and coffee." "Thank you, Andrea. Janet wore me out twice last night, once in the Dungeon, then later in bed." "I know. You were dead to the world, literally," answered Andrea, concern evident on her face. "I just hope that I have the energy to use her again tonight," said Erica. "Then I prescribe a bath, then you dress in your pajamas and spend the whole day in bed. Janet will bring you lunch, and Dinner can be like normal downstairs." "Thank you, Andrea. Is the slave now giving her Mistress orders?" Andrea reached over and kissed Erica on the forehead, then on her lips. "Get some rest, Mistress. Before I place a collar around your neck and lock you to the wall myself." "Yes, Mistress Andrea." Later on, Andrea checked on Erica. She had showered and put on her pajamas, then had fallen asleep again. Lunch was forgotten as Erica slept into the afternoon, to be awakened much later for Dinner, her stomach rumbling from hunger. "What's for Dinner?" asked Erica after Andrea had awakened her. "Rib Roast, Mistress. Medium Rare." "Thank you, Andrea. Set the table for three, I want you and Janet to eat at the same table with me. We'll drop ceremony tonight." "Yes, Mistress." As Erica dressed for Dinner, she watched as snow fell outside. The peaceful whiteness brought back memories of her playing in the snow in the estate during childhood. Erica chose a Gucci dress with one shoulder strap that she usually wore to affairs. She had ordered that since Janet and Andrea were to share her table, they were not to wear Maid's uniforms. Andrea wore a simple blue dress, and Janet wore a blouse and skirt, though she still had the collar around her neck. Andrea carved off three ribs and served Erica first. In addition to the roast was salad, roast potatoes, and steamed green beans. Plus a bottle of red wine to top off the meal. Janet looked surprised to be dressed and share the table of her Mistress. She ate silently, only speaking when spoken to by Erica or Andrea. Dessert was a chocolate cake and coffee, and afterwards Erica adjourned to the library to do some paperwork. "I want Janet downstairs by nine," ordered Erica to Andrea. "Yes, Mistress." 'I hope that I can perform tonight,' thought Erica to herself in the library. For simplicity's sake, Erica wore a Dominatrix dress in black PVC that covered her arms, but not her legs. She had taken to storing some of her fetishwear downstairs so she wouldn't have to run upstairs each time. The Domme dress was similar to a Catsuit, except that it ended in a dress instead of tight fitting legs. It was quite attractive, and once when she had gone to a disco, she had seen a woman wearing it. Erica wondered if the woman knew the true origin of the dress. She stared at herself in the mirror, depressed. Her career as a Domme was over at age 36 from exhaustion. Erica had wanted to do so much, and just when she had established a name for herself, she was dying instead. Dinner was one of the best that Andrea had ever made, the roast had indeed melted in her mouth. Erica wondered if next she'd start to gnaw on car bumpers for iron. "Do you submit to your Mistress?" demanded Erica. "Yes, Mistress." "Kiss the whip." In order to save time, Andrea had hung Janet from the ceiling in advance, her arms and legs opened by spreader bars. Erica had always disliked those Dommes who went right into using a slave without any preliminaries first. But there was now no time left, none at all to waste. "Yes, Mistress," answered Janet. Erica drew the whip back and began to strike Janet with a series of light methodical strokes. Unsure of how much energy she had left, she wanted to make whatever she did last as long as possible. Janet had already been well marked the day before, so she didn't have to be as intense. Still, she knew that Janet remembered her previous times under the lash. She was certain that Janet was already suspicious of her lack of energy, and any failure of performance now would only confirm her suspicions. "Do you accept my use of you, Janet?" asked Erica. "Yes, Mistress Erica." "There will be no need to count tonight, Janet. After I use you, I shall take you into my bed again." "Yes, Mistress." Erica then began to whip Janet, and she secretly dreaded what would happen if she should fail. But then a strange thing happened, her body suddenly became alive with strength, her muscles energized as they had not been for months. 'What's going on?' Erica asked herself. The whip struck Janet again and again, and Erica could see the effect that it was having on her. Each stroke left a mark behind as the whip wrapped itself around her body. "Ah!" cried Janet. Crack! Crack! Crack! The whip continued to strike Janet, and Erica noticed that her slave had begun to sweat. Glistening droplets ran down her body, reflecting in the lights. Crack! Crack! Crack! "Ah!" In the past Erica would have stopped, and felt the overheated flesh of her slave. But now if she stopped, perhaps Erica would be unable to start again. So she continued with the whip, never breaking Janet's flesh but instead leaving welts behind that would last for some time. Crack! Crack! Crack! "Ah!" Erica looked briefly between strokes at Andrea, who was captivated by her performance. In her mind she had kept careful count of the number of strokes that she had delivered, mindful of the number that she knew that Janet could safely take. Crack! Crack! Crack! "AH!" It was the sudden change in Janet's voice that alerted Erica to the fact that Janet was close to her limit. Erica wanted to continue, to use the newfound energy that her body had provided. But instead she knew that she had to follow Janet's limit. Crack! Crack! Crack! Erica had delivered twenty-five strokes, all without breaking the skin or making Janet bleed. A splendid performance, given that Janet's body was now covered in red welts. "Thank you, Janet," complimented Erica what she ceased, "kiss the whip." "Yes, Mistress." Erica reached between Janet's legs and found that her sex was sopping wet. "Slut! Do you want to make love to your Mistress?" "Yes, Mistress Erica," quickly answered Janet. "Andrea, I'll be in my bedroom. Have Janet there in half an hour," ordered Erica. "Yes, Mistress." When Janet was conducted into Erica's bedroom, she found her Mistress naked on top of the quilt. Her legs open, a dildo and crop on the night table. "Please your Mistress," ordered Erica, "now!" Janet immediately set to work on Erica's sex, her arms free from any bondage. In fact, Erica had not chained her in any way, leaving her slave free. Erica soon moaned and bucked with a satisfying orgasm, her bottom bouncing on the bed. Her body covered with sweat, she soon turned over and began to use Janet. Her tongue quickly drove Janet to sexual madness, bringing her to climax as well. Then Erica slipped the dildo inside Janet's pussy, then began to suck her breasts and kiss her on the lips. Under Erica's fierce attentions, Janet soon had one climax after another, with her mouth, sex, and breasts stimulated by her Mistress. "Ooooooh!" cried Janet, "Mistress!" Erica continued bringing Janet to orgasm, wearing her slave out. Each climax seemed to give Erica herself new strength. Finally, Janet dropped off to sleep after they cuddled and kissed under the sheets. Next Erica slept soundly, naked against her slave. During the night, Erica awakened to look at Janet's face in the moonlight that was streaming through the window. On her face was the look of a slave who had been given both pain and pleasure by her Mistress, who was smiling in pleasure as she slept. 'Janet, forgive me,' thought Erica. Part Four: Death and Rebirth June 1993 "Are we both packed?" asked Erica, nervous as hell. "Yes, Mistress, everything's done," stressed Andrea for the second time. Erica had used both of her slaves for the last time, and had removed some of her fetish and regular clothing from the Mansion. Next she had left clues, an empty envelope from Janet's company in the bottom of the library desk, a letter in the computer. The will and codicil had been drawn up months before, along with the package of documents that Blanca would give to Janet and Tiffany. Every last detail had been attended to and gone over several times. Erica and Andrea had tried to second guess how Janet and Tiffany would respond once they inherited the estate, then realized that they were in a deadly competition with one another.Finally, the trip to Mexico, their deaths in the mountains in a plane crash (which would be faked, complete with a plane that Erica had purchased for that reason). Then going into hiding, and the new identities that had been created. "Mistress, why did you leave your journals in the safe?" asked Andrea. "Because if Janet finds them, she'll read and cherish them. Tiffany will probably ignore them at best, burn them in the fireplace at worst." "Who do you think will win?" questioned Andrea. "Janet." "Tiffany will cut her to ribbons, Mistress. I believe that Tiffany will be the winner." "No, Andrea, that's where you're wrong. Janet has nerves of steel, even if it's not obvious. She will win, mark my words. I just hope that I'm alive one year from now to see that come true." At the gate, a black limousine had pulled up. Erica hit the button to admit the car. "Black, how fitting," commented Andrea. "Come, Andrea. Death awaits." The End of Chapter Fourteen

Chapter 14: The Legacy

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/18142.txt

Andrew Roller

Dungeon of Desire

"You have to undress too," Katy told Jennifer. "You're just the servant girl. Do you think you can stay clothed while we're naked?" Katy smiled at her and walked quickly over to her. Katy would make sure that Jennifer played her role completely, and she would see that Jennifer was rewarded, in the end, if she did. Of that I was sure. I watched as Katy unbuttoned the lone button at the top of Jennifer's blouse. It was the only button that Katy had been permitted to be closed during the entire tea ceremony. Emitting a little cry of despair, Jennifer, her bottom already showing signs of having been punished, watched as Katy drew her blouse off her slim arms. She was left as bereft as we. She huddled her arms over her bosoms and closed her thighs. Katy folded her blouse and went and laid it on top of my robe. Could we escape? I doubted it. I was sure Katy had locked the cellar door. Yet, was there perhaps a key someplace that could open it? I did not know. I didn't want to run anyplace without Dick. I felt butterflies rise up in my tummy as I sauntered over to him, quite naked now, both of us naked, and quietly took his hand. I felt like we were Adam and Eve. We acknowledged each other with just our fingertips, our hands pressing together. We gazed out at all the rare and devilish equipment that lay waiting to test and tease our nude bodies. I could hardly tear my eyes from it all and I felt my breath coming in gasps as I contemplated it. My bosoms rose and fell on my chest. My pussy tingled. Dick's big, well-formed penis stuck out like a post, quivering, still wet from being in Katy's mouth. There is a certain thrill, I think, in stripping nude in a dungeon. You take off your clothes as if for a bath, but instead there is no tub and no bathwater. Just big machines and strange evil-looking devices. I squeezed Dick's hand hard. But he did not respond. He was dumb-struck by the thought of challenging all this equipment with just his bare body and his big, powerful penis. Katy tossed back her mane of black hair and strode up behind myself and Dick as we stood enthralled by the dungeon, peering into it, wondering. How strange to be invited into a place where the dress code consisted of nudity, and where so many items of the furniture looked designed to test those parts of the body least seen: nipples, lips, holes (however tightly closed). And for the male, his testicles might be given a challenge; and his penis, of course. So much of what was expected in the real world was turned on its head here. Katy put a palm to each of our bottoms and urged us forward. I tried to walk with light steps. I looked down at my feet and let my hair fall into my face. It would protect me. I would be blonde hair and it would shield me, this tumbling mane of long lovely streamers. I felt concealed within it; yet with Katy's palm ingratiating itself within the crack of my bare bottom I knew I was telling myself lies that my ass, at least, couldn't believe. "This is the wall," Katy said from behind. Her voice was all softness and Japanese gentleness. I dared myself to look up. There, several feet in front of me, stood a plyboard structure that had been built as an outcrop from the real stone wall of the dungeon. It was sturdily constructed and was bolted firmly to both floor and ceiling. The wood was smooth, with a light gloss of polish upon it, letting the natural beige color of the wood show through. A glory hole offered itself for Dick's penis. A bench ran in front of the wall, with no back to it. I quickly saw, as did Dick, to his penis's surprise, that he might be pushed forward and made to kneel on the bench and forced (or inspired) to stick his penis in the glory hole. Slipping from behind us, Katy took fetched a big fluffy pink towel. She advanced to the bench and, bending over to show us the splendor of her nude bottom, spread the pink towel out on the bench, folding it, so that it offered a cushion for the knees. She stepped away and admired her handiwork. "There's no reason to be uncomfortable just because you're in the dungeon," she smiled at Dick and me. Then she pranced back around behind us. Giving each of our asses a quick slap, she impelled us forward. I found myself looking down at the bench, through the mass of my fallen hair, my belly moving softly, flat but expanding and contracting inward with my anxious breaths. My bosoms offered their tips. My pussy, snug between my legs, contemplated the soft towel on the bench and wondered if spendings from my crotch might soon stain the fabric. And then I looked up. No! Twin glory holes created for my nipples waited. I bent a little, looking curiously, with that awful fear I felt getting a paper back from my teacher in school, not wanting to look at the grade she'd given me but HAVING to, just having to know! Within the twin little holes created for my nipples were little rings, a row of them, vaginal-like, offering to take my nipples within themselves and then clamp down on them...hard. I had no illusions that it would be hard. Behind the board, out of my view, was a screw mechanism that could be twisted to close the rings upon themselves until they held my nipples securely. And it would be just the nipples. My nipples. Not the areola or the rest of my breast, just the very tip. If I was behaved, of course, I could never suffer, or even be put into these awful holes. But I wasn't behaved. My nipples were big and stiff and hungry. And, beside me, contemplating his own glory hole, his male hole, stood my boyfriend Dick. His cock was like a giant sausage, bobbing freely on the air. You'd think he'd be happy with just that, but he'd been displaying his penis to us girls all through the tea ceremony and now his hips shuddered and his buttocks tensed repeatedly as he longed to have his penis held captive and squeezed. "Up, you two! Get up on the bench!" Katy told us. Like swimmers mounting the blocks to begin a race, my boyfriend and I climbed up onto the bench. For him, it was merely a matter of lifting his knees. I had to press my hands to the bench, partly out of gracefulness, wanting to stay fine and perfect and feminine in all my movements, partly because the bench was high for me and I had to climb on it, like an Incan maiden preparing herself for ritual slaughter.After the service, I cornered a Christian. I showed him my book, David Hamilton's A Place in the Sun. I flipped through the pictures and asked him to tell me what he saw. (He asked that I not refer to him by name, so I'll call him Peter Prude): pp: Paganism! That's what I see! hj: This is just the cover. pp: Yes! But there are two young girls on that cover, both of them topless! hj: You can only see their backs... pp: But I know what they have in front! Twin pairs of pert, firm, half-formed bosoms! And probably with stiff nipples too, if that sea water is chilly! hj: So, like, how does that cause you to see Paganism? Nudity, maybe, but... pp: It's like in that horrible book I had to read in college. By that man... that HEATHEN! What was his name? I know the first letter is just like that book, The Story of O! hj: Ovid? pp: Yes! That's him! Those two girls on the cover of this book by David Hamilton, they look like two nymphs straight out of Ovid's Metamorphoses! And the whole book is filled with them, I'll bet! Water nymphs, wood nymphs, dryads, sprites! A universe of pagans, all unsaved by the blood of our Lord Jesus Christ! hj: Good God! Sold in a 20th Century bookstore, no less. pp: Yes! Imagine! When they could stock their whole store with Bibles, instead they give over shelf-space to Paganism?! We'll get a law passed against that, you can be sure of it! hj: Praise the Lord, Brother! (I had to pretend to be one of them, dear reader, in order to get honest answers.) pp: Yes! May the Lord God strike down Barnes and Noble for selling such a SINFUL book, with pictures of Pagans in it! Nude Pagans! Let me see the rest of that book, brother! We must examine every picture, to ensure that we are fully apprised of the debased nature of its contents. We don't want to be ignorant of the ways of the Devil! hj: Certainly not! Let's have at this book, by God! Here, look at this! Page 25! pp: It's a damn beach! Do you think I want to look at a damn beach? Where are the girls? I want to see naked, underage, lithe, supple minors! hj: Sorry. Let me flip to another page... Ooops! No girls here on page 23, either... pp: Ahah! A flower! hj: Sorry... pp: No need to apologize, brother! See? A flower! David Hamilton is promoting the homosexual lifestyle! hj: He is? pp: Whenever you see a flower in an Art book, it's coded language, intended to convey acceptance for the lifestyle of fags and sodomites! hj: Are you sure? pp: Friend, you obviously are new to our Christian faith. Let me tell you something. Ninety-nine percent of our followers will never see this book. Heck, it's probably *sold out* in most stores. But they DO read the fundraising letters we send them. So, if you see a flower in an Art book, it *automatically* qualifies as gay propaganda. hj: Oh, I see. You find a bunch of gullible, paranoid people, send them lies, and they send you money. pp: Yes! But you must think up a new issue each year. You can't just stay with one thing. Plus, it must be something you can claim is outrageous! An outrage! Otherwise they don't send in their money. hj: Praise the Lord! pp: Show me some more pictures, brother! I want to see some girls! hj: Ah, yes. Hmmm, page 36... Ooops. It's just a bunch of huts... pp: PRIMITIVE huts! He's promoting multi-culturalism! A communist, hippie/yuppie philosophy, designed to undermine our nation's Judeo-Christian tradition! hj: Here we go! Page 89! A nude girl! Tell me what you see here, brother, so I can understand the point-of-view of a fellow Christian. pp: Yes! Here is what I see... A tranquil blue-green sea laps quietly at the pussy of a young girl as she contemplates a playful dive into deeper water. hj: Ah! Like, maybe she's fooled around a little, but now she's going to 'take the plunge'. She desires to be deflowered! pp: Yes! And look at the opposite page. Here's what I see on page 88: With quiet ocean waves caressing her legs, gently moistening her sex, a girl lies at the edge of the tide, on the beach. As she waits for the tide to rise, she juts her bottom toward the sky, daring Phoebus to burn it. hj: Good God! When someone could be thinking about Jezebel, he's forced to think about that instead! pp: Disgusting! Turn on, brother. Turn to another page. hj: What are you doing? Why are you putting your hand in your pants? pp: I'm girding my loins. All good Christians do that. hj: Oh. Okay. pp: Show me more of the bizarre, perverted works of Satan! hj: Ooops. There's just a plant here on page 91. pp: More sickness! See the shape of those leaves? It reminds me of marijuana! He's promoting the drug culture! hj: He is? pp: Yes! Turn on. Find some more of those bare-bottomed girls! hj: Here's one-- page 162! pp: EEEEEEEEYAH! A sleepy blonde lies quietly in the cool shade of her master's bedroom. He watches her still, slowly-breathing figure from across the room. He gazes lustily at the whiteness of her nude bottom, where her swimsuit usually covers her. Slowly, as he regards her bare figure, he pulls his belt from his pants... hj: Bravo! Be sure to include that one in your fundraising letter! pp: Yes! Show me more! We're really moving now! hj: Are you still girding your loins? pp: Indeed, brother! You should try it some time. Just don't tell my wife. hj: Ooops. Here on page 132 there's just a mule. pp: Sex with animals! hj: Let's see... how about page 134. Ooops. It's just a grove of bamboo. pp: Support for the Viet Cong! hj: Whoa. On pages 176 and 177 there are men... with clothes on... pp: See? See? What did I tell you? He's preaching homosexuality! hj: Ahhh. At last. Here's some girls... page 28. pp: Mmmmm! With quiet whispers, two captive slave girls plot their escape from Bondage Beach! hj: Bondage Beach? pp: Yes. Their master has spared them the punishments he's inflicted on the older girls, but they know he'll turn to them soon. hj: So do they escape? pp: Yes. They see a ship. They wave to it and draw it close. But then, just as it's about to save them, they metamorphose into Sirens. Gleefully they watch as the ship is lured into a dangerous outcropping of rocks in the sea and its sailors are drowned. hj: What happens then? pp: Poseidon changes the Sirens back into girls. He's in league with their master, you see, to prevent their escaping. hj: Is there any more to this story? pp: Yes! Seeing the boatload of hardy sailors dashed to pieces on the rocks, the girls realize what's happened. They pray to Zeus to restrain Poseidon. He does, and when the girls see another ship, they call to it. But this time they don't turn into Sirens and they don't lure the ship onto the rocks. hj: So are they saved? pp: Yes. They think they are. But when they board the ship, they find out it's owned by Bluebeard the Pirate! hj: Yikes! pp: So they go from Bondage Beach to Bondage Brig! At that point, I figured I had enough information. No wonder those Christians need to go to church so much-- what an imagination they have! Anyway, I'm planning to go to church much more often myself. I didn't realize that halfway through the service they pass around a plate with money in it! I helped myself to 45 dollars, enough to buy David Hamilton's next book! AND IN THE END... PROTECT THE CHILDREN? "A U.N. report estimated that 420,000 children, 5,000 every month since 1991, have died because of inadequate medical care and insufficient food supplies. The report also said that one third of all Iraqi children are malnourished, and many suffer from infections. The source of many of the illnesses and deaths is poor drinking water. Sewage treatment plants and electric power plants that keep them going were bombed during the Gulf War." - The NewsHour with Jim Lehrer, March 13, 1998.

Chapter Four

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/9378.txt

LeAnna

Amberyl

"I've got to get help, Raist!" She heard the big warrior saying as she drew near. Caramon's voice sounded tense and anguished. "You've never been this bad! Never!" There was silence, then Caramon's voice rose again in answer to words Amberyl could not hear. "I don't know. Back to the inn if I have to! All I know is that this firewood isn't going to last till morning. You yourself tell me not to cut the trees in the forest, and they're wet anyway. It's stopped snowing. I'll only be gone a few hours at the most. You'll be safe here. Probably a lot safer in these accursed woods than I will." A pause, then. "No, Raist. This time I'm doing what _I_ think best!" In her mind, Amberyl could almost hear the mage's bitter curse, and she smiled to herself. The light from the cave was obliterated for an instant by a dark shadow - Caramon coming out. It hesitated. Could the man be having second thoughts? The shadow half-turned, going back into the cave. Quickly murmuring words to herself in a language that none on the continent of Ansalon had heard for countless centuries, Amberyl gestured. Barely visible from where she stood, a glimmer of firelight burst into being far off into another part of the forest. Catching a glimpse of it from the corner of his eye, Caramon shouted. "Raist! There's-- a fire! Someone's close by! You stay wrapped up and.. and warm.. I'll be back soon!" The shadow merged with the darkness, then Amberyl saw the bright glint of armor in the moonlight and heard the heavy footsteps and labored breathing of the big man slogging into the snow. Amberyl smiled. "No, you won't be back very soon, my friend," She told him silently as he passed right by the tree where she was hiding, "Not very soon at all." Waiting until she was certain Caramon was well off on his pursuit of the elusive blaze that would, she knew, keep always just beyond his reach, Amberyl drew a deep breath, said a silent prayer to her god, and crept swiftly through the sparkling silver snow toward the cave. Pushing aside the blanket Caramon had strung up in a pathetic attempt to block out the elements, Amberyl entered. The cave was cold, damp and dark, lit only by a fire that sputtered feebly near the doorway to allow for ventilation. Glancing at it, Amberyl shook her head. What firewood Caramon had been able to find was wet with snow and ice. It was a tribute to the big man's skill in woodlore that he had been able to coax a flame from it at all. But it wouldn't last long and there was no wood at all to replace it when it was gone. Peering into the shadows, Amberyl couldn't find the mage at first, though she could hear his rattling breath and smell the spicy fragrance of his spell components. Then he coughed. A bundle of clothes and blankets near the fire moved, and Amberyl saw a thin hand snake out to clasp hold of a steaming mug that stood near the blaze. The fingers trembled, nearly dropping the mug. "Let me help you," she said. Not waiting for an answer, she lifted the mug in her hand, then assisted Raistlin to sit. "Lean on me," she offered, seeing the mage endeavoring weakly to prop himself up. "You're not surprised to see me, are you?" she asked. Raistlin regarded her for a few moments with his flat, golden eyes, then-- with a bitter smile-- rested his frail body against Amberyl's as she settled down beside him. Chilled as he was, Amberyl could feel that strange warmth emanate from the thin body. He was tense and rigid, his breathing labored. Raistlin lifted the mug to his lips, but began to cough again, a cough that Amberyl could feel tear at him. Taking the mug from him, she set it down, and held onto him as he choked and gasped for breath, wrapping her arms around him as though she would hold his body together. Her own heart was torn, both in pity for him and his suffering and with fear for herself. He was so weak! What if he died? But finally, the spasm eased. Raistlin was able to draw a shuddering breath, and motioned for his drink. Amberyl held it to his lips, her nose wrinkling at the foul smell. Slowly, Raistlin sipped it. "I wondered if you would find us here," he whispered. "I wondered if the wizards would allow you inside the forest." "I wondered the same myself," Amberyl said softly. "As for me finding you" -- She sighed -- "If I hadn't, you would have found me. You would have come back to me. You couldn't help yourself." "So that's the way it is," Raistlin said, his breathing coming easier. "That's the way it is..." Amberyl murmured. "Help me lie down," Raistlin ordered, sinking back among his blankets. Amberyl made him as comfortable as possible, her gaze going to the dying fire. A sudden gust of wind blew the blanket aside. A flurry of snow hissed and danced on the glowing embers. "I feel myself growing strangely weak, as though my life were being drained off," the mage said, huddling into the wet blankets. "Yes...I feel it too. And it isn't a spell." Amberyl said, doing what she could to stir up the blaze. Coming to sit in front of the mage, she clasped her arms around her legs, looking at him intently as he stared at her. "Take off your scarf," he whispered. Slowly, Amberyl unwound the scarf from her face, letting it fall about her shoulders. She shook out her snow-wet hair, feeling drops of water spatter on her hands. "How beautiful you--" he broke off. "What will happen to me?" Raistlin asked abruptly. "Will I die?" "I-- I don't know," Amberyl answered reluctantly, her gaze going to the fire. She couldn't bear to look at him. The mage's eyes burned through her, touching something deep inside, filling her with sweet pain. "I have.. never heard of this.. happening to-- to a.. human before." "So you are not human," Raistlin remarked. "No, I am not." Amberyl replied, still unable to face him. "You are not elven, nor any of the other races I am familiar with who live upon Krynn-- and I tell you-- What's your name?" "Amberyl." "Amberyl," he said it lingeringly, as though tasting it. She shivered again. "I tell you, Amberyl," he repeated, "I am familiar with all the races on Krynn."Wise you may be, mage," Amberyl murmured, "but the mysteries of this world that have yet to be discovered are as numberless as the snowflakes." "You will not reveal your secret to me?" Amberyl shook her glistening hair. "It is not my secret alone." Raistlin was silent. Amberyl did not speak either. Both sat listening to the hissing and popping of the wood and the whistling of the wind among the trees. "So... I am to die, then," Raistlin said, breaking the silence at last. He didn't sound angry, just weary and resigned. "No, no, no!" Amberyl cried. Reaching out impulsively, she took his thin, wasted hand in her own, cradling her cheek against it. "No," she repeated. "Because then I would die." Raistlin snatched his hand from hers. Propping himself weakly on his elbow, his golden eyes glittering, he whispered hoarsely, "There is a cure? You can break this... this enchantment?" "Yes," Amberyl answered without a voice, feeling the warm blood suffuse her face. "How?" Raistlin demanded, his hand clenching. "First," said Amberyl, swallowing, "I -- I must tell you something about... about the Valin." "The what?" Raistlin asked quickly. Amberyl could see his eyes flicker. Even facing death, his mind was working, catching hold eagerly of this new information, storing it away. "The Valin. That is what it is called in our language. It means..." She paused, frowning, trying to think. "I suppose the closest meaning in your language is life-mate." The startled expression on the mage's face was so funny that Amberyl laughed nervously. "Wait, let me explain," she said, feeling her own face growing more and more flushed. "For reasons of our own, in ages so far back that they are past reckoning, my people fled this land and retreated to one where we could live undisturbed. Our race is, as you were able to detect, long-lived. But we are not immortal. As all others, in order for our race to survive, we must produce children. But there were few of us and fewer still as time went by. The land we chose to live in is a harsh one. We tend to be loners, living by ourselves with little interaction even among our own kind. What you know as families are unknown among us. We saw our race begin to dwindle and the elders knew that soon it must die out completely. They were able to establish the Valin to ensure that our young people... that they..." Raistlin's face had not changed expression; his eyes continued to stare at her. But Amberyl could not continue speaking beneath that strange, unblinking gaze. "You chose to leave your land," Raistlin asked. "Or were you sent away?" "I was sent to this land...by the elders. There are others here as well..." "Why? What for?" Amberyl shook her head. Picking up a stick, she poked at the fire, giving herself an excuse to avoid his eyes. "But surely your elders knew that something like this must happen if you go out into other lands," Raistlin said bitterly. "Or have they been away THAT long?" "You have no conception of how long we have been away," Amberyl said softly, staring at the fire that was flickering out despite her best efforts to keep it going. "And no, it should NOT have happened. Not with one who is not of our race." Her gaze went back to Raistlin. "And now it is my turn to ask questions. What is there about you that is different from other humans? For there is something, something besides your golden skin and eyes that see death in the living. Looking at you, I perceive the shadow of another. You are young, yet there is a timelessness about you. Who are YOU, Raistlin, that this has happened between us?" To her amazement, Raistlin blanched, his eyes widening in fear, then narrowing in suspicion. "It seems we both have our secrets." He shrugged. "And now, Amberyl, it appears that we will never know what caused this to happen. All that should really concern us is what must be done to rid ourselves of this... this Valin." Shutting her eyes, Amberyl licked her lips. Her mouth was dry, and the cave was suddenly unbearably cold. Shivering, she tried more than once to speak. "What?" Raistlin's voice grated. "I... must bear... your child," Amberyl said weakly, her throat constricting. For long moments there was silence. Amberyl did not dare open her eyes, she did not dare look at the mage. Ashamed and afraid, she buried her face in her arms. But an odd sound made her raise her gaze. Raistlin was laying back on the blankets, laughing. It was almost inaudible laughter, more a wheeze and a choking but laughter nonetheless-- taunting, cutting laughter. And Amberyl saw, with pity in her heart, that its sharp edge was directed against himself. "Don't, please, don't," Amberyl said, crawling nearer. "Look at me, lady!" Raistlin gasped, his laughter catching in his throat, setting him to coughing. Grinning at her mirthlessly, he gestured outside. "You had best wait for my brother. Caramon will be back soon..." "No, he won't," Amberyl said softly, creeping closer to Raistlin. "Your brother will not be back before morning." Raistlin's lips parted. His eyes-- filled with a sudden hunger-- devoured Amberyl's face. "Morning," he repeated. "Morning," she said. Reaching up a trembling hand, Raistlin brushed back the beautiful hair from her delicate face. "The fire will be out long before morning." "Yes," Amberyl said softly, blushing, resting her cheek against the mage's hand. "It's-- it's already growing cold in here. We will have to do something to keep warm... or we will perish..." Raistlin drew his hand over her smooth skin, his finger touching her soft lips. Her eyes closed, she leaned toward him. His hand moved to touch her long eyelashes, fine as elven lace. Her body pressed close to his. He could feel her shivering. Putting his arm around her, he drew her close. As he did so, the fire's last little flame flickered out and died. Darkness warmer and softer than the blankets covered them. Outside they could hear the wind laughing, the trees whispering to themselves. "Or we will perish..." Raistlin murmured. With this whisper, Amberyl leaned down to kiss him softly on his moist lips. He responded hungrily, yet shyly, like a child at play for the first time.Raistlin's body was covered in perspiration, and he started to whisper words that she couldn't hear. At first, she wondered if it was a spell, then pushed the thought aside as she tried to force more of his cock into her mouth. She truly wanted to feel her lips against the curly white hair of his pubic region, to feel his full length inside her completely. She slowly drew out, though, massaging her tongue along the sides. She lifted her body off of his and deftly took off her dress. It was long and flowing, making it hard to get rid of, but with the experience of years, she had it off in seconds. Her full splendor was displayed in front of Raistlin, with golden blonde pubic hair going perfectly against a beautifully toned stomach, which showed off the roundness of her breasts perfectly. Her body seemed to have been put together by the gods themselves. Raistlin's mind was reeling, and he knew nothing except that he must continue. His weakness was dripping away slowly as his excitement and anticipation continued to build, and his cock was throbbing with excitement. She knew this, yet she teased him. He lifted his hand and ran it along her inner thigh. She tilted her head back in response to this teasing excitement and shuddered softly when his finger tickled against her clit. He noted her response and slid a finger in between her pussy lips, feeling the wetness of it. The feeling of her juices was unusual, Raistlin noted, like a watered-down version of his own. It was hot and slippery, and lubricated his finger as he suddenly, without warning, drove his finger in to the knuckle. Her body stiffened, and a moan escaped from between her lips. "Oh, yes..." The words were barely whispered, and her beautiful face had an expression of a woman crazed with lust. Amberyl's pussy tightened around his finger, fitting snugly around him, and when he thought of how it'd feel fitting snugly around his rod, his cock surged once again. This slow teasing was driving them both mad. Amberyl knew that she craved the feeling of him inside her, rubbing the sides of her walls with unbearable friction. She knew his unusual size would make it harder to get inside and stretch the walls even more, and that would make her even more turned on. She slowly moved her pussy off of his finger, and he lifted it to his mouth, licking the juice off. He put his finger all the way in, sucking the juices off, savoring the sweet taste as she gripped him, and lowered her pussy on his head. His head was hard against her opening, and for a minute she feared that she wouldn't be able to get it in. She ran it up and down against her slit, letting the juices warm it up. Before she realized it, the very tip was partly inside, and she pressed gently against it. Her virginity was still intact - her only companion had been her own hand, and even that was rare. The sheath of skin that protected the way to her vagina was gone, however, after many years of horseback riding. She half-sighed, half-moaned at the thought of something so large inside her, and she tensed her legs, trying to drive it into her. He thrust his hips gently, and his head popped inside her. "Oh!" The sound slipped from them both at the same time, Raistlin's groan a slow expression of agony, her own nearly a shriek of pleasure at feeling his body mingling with hers. Slowly, he drove his piston in with gentle thrusts, feeling her hot, wet walls wrap tightly around him. She had never felt anything like this before, and she thought she would come. She didn't, however, so she reached a hand down to her clit and tickled it softly as she sank down on his cock. Finally, he bottomed out, and she groaned out loud in pleasure. Enveloped in warmth, Raistlin moved his hips harder into her warm pussy. His pleasure was mounting to an unbelievable high, and it seemed that he was floating on a bed of fire, hovering precariously over the flames that threatened to burst any moment. She sensed his pleasure, and it drove her higher, forcing her to ride up and down his cock harder. Her fingertip jerked slightly at her clit, and before she knew it, the combined sensation of his hard steel pushing and rubbing inside her, and the soft ply of her finger against her clitoris caused her to suddenly rip into an orgasm, doubling over in pleasure, his arms holding her close to his warm body. She groaned and cried out in pure joy, the exploding pulsar of orgasm shaking her body over and over again, making her convulse involuntarily until finally, it let loose and she slipped from its hand and fell into the arms of Raistlin. Raistlin was still driving it inside her, in fact, her tightening pussy during her orgasm had driven him over the point, and his head was tilted back, eyes squeezed shut, mouth wide open in orgasm. His back arched higher and higher, and he no longer had the strength to push his cock inside her with the intensity of his orgasm, and the fires of the Abyss enveloped around him with the maddening pleasure. He came and came, shooting his milky white sperm inside of her, seemingly never to stop. With every stream, she could feel it inside her, coating her vagina's inside. She could feel the searing heat, heat that she was sure was not normal of his race - just as the strange heat that emanated from his body was not normal of his race - and the sensation made her rise in pleasure, grinding hard against him. Finally, his grip suddenly turned slack, still faintly holding on to her, pulling her down with him. She didn't even bother to take his still-hard cock out of her pussy as she sank into his gentle arms, easing into gentle, blissful sleep.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/8661.txt

Tristesssa

Sandra and Ana.....an experience to be told

"My life is in shambles! I fucking want someone to love, dammit!" Her face was so kind-looking. You know the kind of look that makes you feel soft in their presence? Sandra's eyes were full of tears. She was a lonely single mother of twins trying to make it in life. Working a job that paid enough to survive if the cat wasn't hungry. "I am so fucking sick and tired of finding losers!" she said, staring at me. We sat face to face on the old couch that sagged on the back patio. The sun was just hovering over the frail tree tops. The heavy tree limbs swayed as the summer breeze swirled in and out at our feet, moving grass trimmings in little whirlwinds. "Well, maybe you need to quit looking at losers in bars," I said in a gentle tone. "Easy for you to say, you are never looking for anyone!" We sat there and drank our iced tea in silence. Sandra had been someone I knew for what seemed like forever. I loved who she was and how she thought. She was pushing forty and felt like she was aging alone. This was the first time I noticed her beauty. Her hair draped her naked shoulders in colors of browns, like the fall. Her mouth was perfectly shaped. I loved her smile. Sandra's eyes were a vivid, jealous green. As she went on and on about her absent love life, I watched her movements. Graceful she was, like a mature ballerina in full bloom. Her hands danced in the sunshine as she cursed each lover before the last. Her breasts were small and ripe. I felt as though I should have reached out and touched them. "You always have masturbation," I said, interrupting her in mid-sentence. "What? Where did that come from?" she asked, as her voice softened as she waited for an answer. "I don't know, I always hear women talking about how great masturbation is." I blushed. I could feel the blood moving into my cheeks, filling them with warmth. "What do you mean? Hearing women talk about it??? Don't you masturbate?" I moved my body towards its center and felt as though I would crumble at any minute. I was so embarrassed. I just let her know that I didn't do this. I had tried many times to get it right, but somehow never got the gist of it. I felt foolish with my hand in such a place, and worse, alone! "Well..." I said, hesitating. "Well, what?" she paused, trying to catch my eyes. "I never got it right, so I gave up!" I laughed an uneasy laugh. I crossed my legs and had the major physical defense thing going on by now. "Let me teach you, Ana," she said with a soft, pitiful smile. Okay, was she joking or what? Teach me? How the hell could she teach me to masturbate? Geez, I was a 28-year-old woman... "Okay, teach me, Sandra, tell me all the great secrets," I said with great sarcasm. Just then, she put her hand on top of mine and squeezed. She stood in front of me and began to undress. First, she twisted her locks on her head, driving a pencil through it with care. Then I watched her untie the small blue bows that rested over her shoulders that held her dress up. "Look at me, Ana, feel my soul. Be a part of who I am," she whispered. Now I knew she wasn't playing with me. She was serious, and I was pleased. Her eyes locked with mine as she untied the right bow first. Holding her dress to her chest, she untied the left bow with the other hand. Still holding her dress, she held her hand out to me, I placed mine in hers, and followed her inside. I watched her move as we walked inside. Sandra's hips swayed from left to right. She was a thin woman with great shape. Her back had spatters of freckles here and there that made me incredibly aroused. I traced her spine from her neck to her panty line with my middle finger. She giggled like a schoolgirl. As she led me into the bathroom, I became a bit puzzled. I thought we would end up in the bedroom. I sat on the commode and watched as she lit a candle. She smiled. I smiled. Then Sandra turned to the bathtub and began running the water. "Mildly hot, not too hot. You never want it too hot," she said as she looked over her shoulder. Still holding her light blue printed dress to her chest, she stood in front of me on the most beautiful maroon rug. I had a bad habit of looking down when I became nervous and studied the details of this rug. "Up here, look at me, watch me, try to learn from this, Ana." "Okay. I am a little nervous. I don't think I have ever been so intimate with a woman." "Oh, keep your eyes open, it will happen one day. I can tell. You are open, but you need someone to lead you," she said as her hand touched my shoulder. Sandra stepped back and released her dress. The soft pastel material slid down her body and gathered around her ankles. Her breasts were incredible. I looked down. "Please don't look away, Ana, be with me, try to feel me with your soul." "Okay," I said, starting at her neatly pink-polished toenails, then up her legs, passing her panties and up to her breasts. Aah, her breasts. Small in form but so perfectly created. Her nipples were large and stuck out, inviting my warm mouth to caress them. But I stayed still. Her skin was unblemished and taut for her age. Creamy white and soft-looking. Our eyes met. Time stood still. "I am feeling kind of weird here, Sandra," I said, trying to find an escape. "It's because this is new to you, just relax," she said in that sensual, soothing voice I have heard before. Sandra ran her fingers across her tummy, then, slipping her fingertips under the elastic band of cotton panties, she slid them off, slowly, real slow. I thought I would go mad, until I saw the blonde fur that was so neatly manicured. She watched me squirm on the commode, knowing she was making me crazy. Then she stepped her feet apart. With one hand, she slid two fingers across the lips of her sex, not entering, just teasing. I felt my own sex begin to grow with wet fluid. I wanted to touch my own sex, or touch hers. Her sex was so beautiful that I imagined eating an overripe peach when the juices drip down the sides of your face. I wanted to run my tongue up the slit and find the place where she would scream my name out to the gods. She smiled and turned, stepping into the warm water. Her well-shaped legs draped the sides of this old, discolored porcelain Victorian bathtub. Then she let the water drain out a bit. I was confused. "Watch me, Ana, this is the heavenly part of masturbation, or cheating," she laughed. She leaned forward, turning the water back on, adjusted the flow and temperature, then slid down, slamming her ass against the foot of the tub. The water flow hit her sex with some amount of force. I was dizzy, looking at the black and white tiles, and counting the shampoo bottles in a frenzy. I was so aroused. "Okay," she said, looking back at me, "I am going to do my thing, and you watch me. If you want, you can come closer." "Okay," I said, not moving a muscle. Her hands moved about her tummy, touching and gliding. Her nipples were erect and sat on top of her like Hershey's chocolate, only in a white, creamy color. Then she opened her sex. I had to be closer. I moved towards the tub and knelt next to her. She smiled and touched my cheek. I was lost, and she knew it. I saw pinks and mauves, like an artist had painted the soft tissues lining her sex. The water hit her clit and moved it back and forth as she slipped her finger deep in her sex. I wanted to taste her. Her moans were light, and I knew she was climbing with intent. I moved my hands towards the water, her eyes opened. Her hand moved around mine as she moved it towards her sex. I cupped her sex just so I could feel her heat and her passion. I began a soft, gentle rub along the length of her front side. Then I stood and bent over the tub and tasted her. The water splashed on the floor and drenched my clothes as it hit my head and ran down my neck. She moved back a bit, and I swirled my tongue in a feather-light flick. Her voice became deeper as she moaned for me to move faster. Her hands around my neck and the water flowing was a beautiful sight. I grabbed her legs and turned her around, first entering my tongue in her sex, then drawing it along her clit. My fingertips twirled her nipples between my fingertips when I heard the cry.The cry of orgasm. The satisfaction that I had wanted to feel all the years of my life. I toweled her off that night and pampered her like a queen. I poured her a cup of red wine and fed her grapes. We didn't say much to each other that night. It wasn't about being woman and woman, it was about spirit with spirit. Being one with one another. She and I are still very good friends and are both very sensual. We never speak of that summer night, nor do we ask ourselves why we did it. But sometimes when I am in my garden, I can smell her sex among the fragrance of flowers that grow there. 1997

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/9149.txt

Chili Peeler

The Swing Man

"She said no." "Definitely no?" "I would have to say yes, definitely. If it's any consolation, it wasn't because it was you. I just think the whole idea made her uncomfortable....I think she thinks it will hurt our marriage." "That's too bad. If you ask me, it would only make it better....well, damn.....listen the offer is still open if you want to come out. Carmen's definitely up for it." "Really?...I thought it was a package deal." "I would have liked that, man. You know I've always had a thing for Stella, even if she is a prissy little thing. But, it doesn't mean you have to sit around on your hands....it's time to live a little. You've earned it." "You are so right...I'll call you tomorrow after I think about my alibi." "All right, talk to ya then." Jonas Elliot placed the phone back on its cradle and stared out the window wall of his 19th story Century City office. It was a relatively unsmoggy day in Los Angeles, and he could see the blue Pacific way out beyond Santa Monica. 'Well, just when things were getting a little dull,' he thought. 'My brother makes me an offer I can't refuse? The lucky son-of-a-bitch shouldn't be the only one having fun. I'll just drive out and screw this new chickie.' He opened the drawer of his desk and pulled out the Polaroid Lance had sent him. Carmen was one hot looking woman. In the photo, she was wearing a skimpy white bikini that contrasted nicely with her deep tanned skin. Long, dark-brown hair with some blonde highlights. 'She must have some Latin blood in her...maybe even some black ancestors,' Jonas mused, trying to remember who she reminded him of. Then it came to him - Paula Abdul, the singer. His daughter had pointed her out to him at a Kings game a couple of years ago. Carmen's face had that same look, the full lips, longer legs though. And Carmen's chest was much bigger, obviously she had had some work done. "I'm going to enjoy doing that," he said out loud. He could almost kiss Lance for even bringing up the idea. He'd been talking to his brother at a cook-out at his Brentwood home several weeks ago, and Lance, who was ten years younger than he, had started kidding him about slowing down at his old age of 41. Of course, he was referring to the number of women he was sleeping around with behind Stella's back. Years ago, Jonas had sold his soul to the Devil - namely the former owner of the law firm he worked for, Stella's father. Jonas had seen the opportunity of marrying his way to partner status. He'd tried to remain faithful for five or six years, even had a child because Stella wanted one so bad. But temptations were around every door, and once Stella's father passed away, leaving him firmly entrenched in the law firm, he'd begun to open some of those doors. He'd been discreet, and the thrill had been good. Finding willing partners had not been a problem; he worked out at the LA Sports Club several times a week and was in pretty good shape. 6'1", black hair with a smattering of gray, a mustache that was going grayer faster, good definition on the chest, legs in pretty good shape from racquetball. Women wanted him and didn't care if he was married. Clandestine motel meetings with secretaries, an occasional female lawyer or even some escort girls. He'd pay for it if it was good stuff, no problem with that. Hell, he had enough money to retire on comfortably even if Stella found out and took him for half. Anyway, Lance had been kidding him about whether he could still get it up. He'd remarked to Lance that he was getting enough on the side, but he did wished he had Lance's life once in a while; Lance's life seemed to be a string of parties and loose women, many of them in their 20's. Lance had gotten sort of serious and had taken him aside and told him that he had fallen in with a crowd out in Palm Springs that liked to swing, wife-swap, fly in call girls from LA or Vegas. There was a lot of money in Palm Springs, old and new, and Lance had made some connections and gotten invited to some parties, swinger parties. His good looks and the ability to bring some hot girlfriends had made him a regular. And he said they were always looking for new faces, preferably people with money to minimize the chance of someone going to the press. So, that's how he had arrived at where he was today. He'd tried to talk Stella into trying a little swinging with Lance and Carmen to begin with. He'd known the odds were stacked against him, but he'd pitched the idea with all his might. If Stella would agree, their marriage would have gone up to the point that he could stand it. Of course, Stella, the ice queen, had vetoed the idea before it saw the light of day. 'Well, you can't teach an old dog new tricks,' he thought, knowing it applied to Stella and himself also. He put the picture of Carmen back in his drawer and got up and walked to the window, rubbing the back of his neck as he pondered how he should proceed. Jonas waited three days before he took the plunge. He'd originally thought he might tell Stella he was going to San Diego on an overnight business trip or maybe to Vegas for a convention. But he was worried she might try to call him, and the whole secret would unravel. Talking it over with Lance, they had decided he should just drive out one work day. "Just drive the hell out...tell your office you're at a meeting and you'll call in for messages. Easy as pie, Jonesy," Lance promised. "You know, I think that's the best.....I should get out there around lunchtime. Let me buy you two a lunch.....someplace nice." "Shit, partner! The only thing you'll be eating when you get out here is a little Carmen pussy!" "Lance, I better not be wasting a day driving out there.....your little piece of ass better put out," Jonas said. "Buddy, this is a sure thing! Carmen can't wait to get it on with you....I've shown her your picture, too. Know this...when you get out here, you will be getting your noodle wet." He'd tried to act like himself the next morning. He got up, showered, went downstairs and said good-bye to Stella like a thousand other days. He took his briefcase and went out and got into his Lexus sedan. He'd put some things in the briefcase that he normally would not have - a toothbrush, another bottle of his usual cologne, a pair of underwear and some condoms. He wasn't sure if he'd need any of it, but it was there if need be. He drove south into Century City and went up to his office briefly. He put on a show of having forgot some papers for a meeting that he had to go to and hurried out, saying he'd call in for messages. Then, it was out on the freeway and he headed east toward the desert. The drive was almost two and a half hours; he'd done the trip faster in the past, but he wasn't going to risk getting a ticket. 'That's how they caught Son of Sam,' Jonas thought and chuckled at the analogy. Him, an attorney, worried about leaving clues. The desert heat was shimmering across Highway 11 as he came within view of the outskirts of Palm Springs; it was probably already in the low 90's. It had surprised him when Lance had moved to Palm Springs from Florida a year ago. Lance only said that he liked the heat and the desert, but Jonas was pretty sure he'd had to leave Florida to avoid some trouble. He had an idea that Lance might have been running drugs; he led a somewhat extravagant lifestyle for a man with no high school diploma. Whatever he was into, Jonas loved the guy. Especially if Lance was going to start throwing some tail at him. He pulled up in front of Lance's condo and shut off the car. He got out, looking around the lush manicured grounds of the community. He removed his suit jacket and tie and left them in the backseat. Taking his briefcase, he walked toward the front door of the condo, and Lance came out before he was halfway there. "Jonas, welcome to Shangri-La," he said, dramatically waving his arms back at his place. His brother was dressed for the weather in a pair of shorts and a sleeveless mesh football jersey. His longish hair, mustache and scruffy beard gave him a Hell's Angel-like look, at least that early in the morning.When Lance wanted to clean up, he melted some hearts with that smile and his hair done back in a ponytail. "Hey, you could have left the briefcase at home...you're not going to be taking a deposition, for Christ's sake." "Maybe it's full of money," Jonas kidded him as they shook hands. "You know how I hate to be in your debt." "Yeah, well, believe me, you are going to be after today. Come on in before the neighbors get the idea that I'm respectable." Jonas followed him to the door and then entered as Lance ushered him in. Jonas walked down the entrance hallway, passing the stairs that led to the two bedrooms above and stopped at the doorway to the living room, which was to his left. It was empty, so he turned to see where Lance would direct him. "Go ahead and set your case down there inside the door," Lance said. When Jonas straightened up from doing so, he saw Lance was standing on the bottom step of the stairs. "Come on up," he said with a grin. Jonas followed Lance upstairs and into his bedroom where he saw Carmen for the first time. Lance's bedroom had a small solarium off one side, and he saw Carmen, wearing Wayfarers, laying on a towel-draped, wood slat sun chair in the patch of sunlight that came down through the rectangular chimney-like room. It was a nice private set-up and Carmen was topless. He had been right about the non-authenticity of her breasts; real breasts don't stand up like that. They were beauties. Jonas guessed they were maybe 38Cs, like softballs with skin stretched over them. Beautiful, flawless bronze skin capped by half-dollar-sized pinkish aureoles. She had on a bright blue bikini bottom, the kind that rode high on her hips and then plunged down between her legs in a V pattern. Her legs looked like she had been into weight training at some point in the past; her thighs were powerful-looking but her calves looked small. "Look at that little honey," Lance said in a whisper. "Acting like she don't know we're here watching her." Jonas turned to look at his brother. "That's right, I told her you had arrived. She's just giving you a little show...oh, look at that." Jonas looked quickly back at Carmen to see her slowly dragging the fingers of her right hand down her stomach. As they both watched, Carmen ran those fingers under the front of her bikini bottoms, tantalizingly slow, as she also moved her feet onto the solarium floor, one on each side of the chair. Then, with the junction of her legs on display and half of her hand hidden in the bikini, Jonas saw her fingers begin slowly moving. Carmen was obviously indulging herself in a little self-stimulation, and Jonas certainly felt stimulated himself. "What a cock-teaser!" Jonas said in a complimentary way. "She don't tease, bro....she puts out, don't you worry," Lance promised as he walked over to the solarium door. He opened it, and Carmen raised her head to look at him, drawing her hand from her bottoms, as he said, "He's here, baby." "Oh..great!" Carmen gushed, certainly sounding surprised. Carmen sat up and swung her shapely legs into a pair of open-toed heeled shoes and stood up as Lance walked back toward where he stood. Lance gave him a wink. Carmen came into the bedroom, taking off her sunglasses. Her face was flawless, with high cheekbones, manicured eyebrows that arched unnaturally over a pair of grey-blue eyes, and a dazzling white smile. She walked toward him. She hadn't made any attempt to cover herself, and Jonas found himself beginning to grow in his pants. "Hi, Jonas...I'm Carmen," she said simply, extending her hand. Jonas shook it, of course. "Carmen, it's my pleasure...to meet such a beautiful woman." "Well, he's quite a charmer, Lance," she said, her eyes flashing with mischief as she stared up at Jonas. The picture had made her look taller, but she was maybe 5'6" in person. "And such a tall drink of water," Carmen continued as she moved closer to Jonas and slid her arm around him. Jonas let his left arm circle her neck, and his left hand came down on her shoulder, the skin feeling unusually hot and oily from her sunbathing. She smelled like a piña colada and felt so soft. He wanted to throw her down and fuck the shit out of her, lunch or no lunch. "I can tell I'm going to enjoy your brother," Carmen said to Lance and then looked up at him, "I hope your offer still stands for lunch...I'm starving." "Yeah, sure," Jonas said, running his hand down Carmen's side, his fingers just reaching around enough to graze the outside swell of her left breast, "I can't promise that I wouldn't tip over the table." Jonas let the little vixen know that he was aroused at the contact they were having. "Oh, we can't have that, honey," Carmen said, giving his side a squeeze and pressing her right tit into his side. As she said this, her right hand traveled up from the front of his thigh, where it had been lightly laying, and her palm ran across his groin where it couldn't help but encounter his coiled, stiffening member. "Ooooooo.....I think I've found something here!" "You sure have, darling," Jonas said, moving his groin into her hand. Jonas saw her head tilt down to watch her palm move back and forth across a now undeniable tent in his pants. He looked at his brother, and he was headed for the bedroom door. "I just got a little work to take care of before we go eat...uh, it looks like you two will be OK for a few minutes," he laughed knowingly as he disappeared down the stairs. Jonas felt Carmen's hand move up onto his belt buckle, and her fingers went to work undoing it. "Jonas, I think Lance would like me to take care of you before we go....you don't mind, do you?" "That may be the world's dumbest question," he said, rubbing his fingers across her lithe back as she skillfully undid his pant's button and unzipped him with her one hand. She hooked her fingers in the front of his underwear and yanked them down far enough for his penis to pop out. "Big dicks must run in your family," Carmen said as her hot little hand latched onto his semi-erect and felt its weight. Jonas was in heaven. Carmen was certainly not a shy one! "Sit down on the bed and I'll work a little magic," Carmen promised. "We'll calm this thing down so it won't bother us during lunch." Jonas sat on the edge of the bed, hardly believing how quickly things were happening but happy it was as Carmen dropped to her knees in front of him. Her hands pulled his pants and briefs down to around his knees as her eyes locked on his. "Do they call you Jonas because of this whale-sized dick?!" she said hotly as her small hand wrapped around his drunkenly swaying dick and began jacking it. It only took four strokes to get it rock-hard. He was about eight inches long and pretty thick. He could only smile at the thought of what the afternoon would be like. "Let me see you get that thing in that pretty little mouth," Jonas suggested as he ran a finger across her full lips and off her chin. Any thoughts of Stella, his family, repercussions, anything.... went right out the window. He had a gorgeous lady jacking him, and it felt so good. "Well, this is just going to be a quickie, so don't try to impress me with your stamina....remember, I'm hungry," she said with a wink and scooted closer between his spread legs. Her hot mouth stretched over his bulbous dickhead, and she began sucking him. "Jeeezzzzzuusss!" Jonas groaned at the incredible sensation of young lips wrapped around his dick and the exotic sight of Carmen's lovely face looking up at him. He fell back on his elbows on the bed, and Carmen began jacking him in her mouth. "UUnnnnngghhhh!" he groaned again. Carmen wasn't making love to his dick, she was jerking on it like she was milking a cow! "That's it, you nasty girl...aaahhhhh....you are one fucking hot cocksucker....shiitttttt......can't you get more than that in your mouth?" Carmen made a little mewing sound around his thick stick and shocked the hell out of him by doing a quick deepthroat on him. Her lips just kept right on sinking, and he felt his cockhead being pushed and bent forward to get a little ways down her throat. Just as quickly, she drew her mouth off of him and smiled devilishly as she kept jacking him. "Does that answer your question?" she said and gave the underside of his shaft a long slow lick from the bottom to the glans. With her mouth back on top, she started sucking and jacking him again. Jonas was going to shoot soon, he just couldn't hold back. He imagined himself just letting go....imagined her pulling off and his cum flying all over his lap and on his shirt....oh, Christ! the shirt! He couldn't go home with a cum-stained shirt! "Wait!" he gasped, as he tried to sit up and begin unbuttoning his shirt from the bottom. Carmen took her mouth off his ready-to-pop prick. "This is the only shirt I brought." Carmen brushed his hands away and said, "Don't worry....Carmen's not going to let anything get on your shirt.....ooooo, come in my mouth and I'll swallow every drop!" Her hand strongly milked his organ again. "All right, baby, get your mouth over it and I'll blow the back of your head off!" Jonas halfway kidded her. This sexpot was going to make him shoot his nuts through his dick. She took him in her mouth again and swallowed him to the back of her throat in a long slow descent, moving her head up against his stomach to get the proper angle. Jonas felt her hand cup his balls and lightly squeeze them. Jonas just had to come for his voracious cocksucking slut. It was everything he'd dreamed.... just having sex for the sake of having sex, no strings, no commitments. "Carmen, get ready!......Here it comes, baby," he warned her unnecessarily. He felt her lips slide back up to just underneath the rim of his crown, and her hand started jacking him, and he just let go.Three days' worth of his cum shot up into Carmen's skillful mouth, and she just kept right on jacking, both of them moaning in his brother's bedroom. "AAAAGGGHHHHH!" Jonas shuddered as his brother's latest talent swallowed all he could give her. He could feel her concave cheeks mold themselves around his trembling shaft as she sucked him off. He thought he'd never stop coming; it was like he was supercharged or had thrown the switch to a reserve cum tank. His nuts actually hurt when he was through. He came out of his post-sex stupor to find Carmen licking her lips over his slick dick tip. She gave him a knowing look and milked another drop of pearly discharge out of his pisshole with a strong tug on his deflating dick. Her tongue lapped it up like a white chocolate treat. "Oh, shit...that was.....mind-blowing," Jonas complimented her. She kissed the bottom of his wilting wand and said, "I might have to skip lunch, you devil....hold this for me." Jonas held his dick up off his shirt as she walked in the bathroom and came back with a washcloth which she handed to him. She leaned down and gave him a quick kiss. "I'm gonna take a quick shower....tell Lance he better change, I'm not gonna be long." She headed for the bathroom, and Jonas mopped up his crotch as he watched her ass jiggle out of sight. 'Can you believe this shit?!' he thought to himself as he pulled his pants back up. 'Fuck, what a little sex doll...so at ease with the whole thing...hi, how are ya....come in my mouth!' He went down the stairs feeling particularly light on his feet and found Lance sitting on the couch in the living room. "Did I tell you?...did I tell you?" he said, bounding off the couch and punching Jonas in the arm. Lance seemed as excited as Jonas had been upstairs. "Lance, how you are able to still walk is beyond me," Jonas said, feigning exhaustion as he sat in a chair. "Where the hell did you find her?" "Yeah, she's a ballbuster, all right.....I met her at one of those parties I told you about. Some guy flew her up from Puerto Rico for this party...and I took her home," Lance said proudly. "This guy didn't have a problem with that?" "Who knows? Hell, the guy was doing two blondes last time I saw him." "You're talking an orgy, right?" "I don't know any other word to describe it, Jonas...bodies going at it right and left." Jonas had to find a woman to take to those parties. Lance had said they were strictly a couples thing...no singles were allowed. He'd hire a girl if he had to.... the problem would be keeping it from getting back to Stella. Well, he'd think about that later. "Carmen said you should change. She's taking a quick shower." "Great.....welcome to the swinging world, my brother," Lance said, slapping him on the shoulder before running upstairs. They went to eat lunch at Giordino's, an out-of-the-way Italian place. Carmen turned a lot of heads in a tight white miniskirt with a bib-like top that left her stomach bare and white, heeled boots that came up almost to her knees; she sure knew how to package herself. They got a booth in the back, and Carmen made a point to sit real close to Jonas. They ordered some drinks, and Carmen rubbed his leg while they waited for them to arrive. "So, Carmen, tell me about yourself," Jonas said, openly looking down her top. "Well, I liked sucking you off earlier," she said, and they all laughed at her little declaration. "I was thinking a little further back than that," Jonas said, "Where did you grow up?" "In Panama." "Really?!" "Yes, my father was an exporter, an Italian, coincidentally. My mother was Brazilian." "Brazil..... I knew you had some Latin blood. I bet your mother was a beautiful woman.... to have such a beautiful daughter." "Lance, why can't you say such sweet things?" she teased his brother as the waiter arrived with their drinks. "Jonas has always had the silver tongue," Lance conceded. "I got the good looks." "From where I'm sitting, you both look good to me," Carmen said, raising her drink in toast. "Well, at least we got that out of the way. We're all good looking," Jonas said laughingly as the waiter came back. "Are you ready to order? An appetizer, perhaps?" he inquired. "Yes," Carmen said, "these two strong men will each have an order of oysters on the halfshell. That'll be all." The waiter went away smiling. "You believe in that oyster stuff, Jonas?" Lance asked, looking at Carmen. "I'll take any help I can get." "I think you are understating your capabilities," Carmen said, her hand flirting with his crotch again. Jonas took her hand in his to keep it from causing any more commotion. "Are you always like this?" he asked Carmen. "Always," Carmen promised. "Carmen, tell Jonas how you got into swinging," Lance said, sipping his drink. "You'll love this, Jonas." Jonas gave Carmen his full attention. "I was living in Panama and wanted desperately to get out. So I got a job on a cruise ship; they used to dock at Colon. The job was shit, housekeeping stuff, but I knew the ship traveled to Florida and all along the Mexican coast, and it was exciting to see other parts of the world. So, we dock in Miami and take on a new group of passengers. I worked the early morning and afternoons, so my evenings were my own. One evening I got tired of sitting around, and I put on my best dress and went walking up on deck. Anyway, I met this couple that was in one of the rooms I cleaned, the Jordans, and they invited me back to their room, to give me a gift for the fine job I'd done. Well....when we got to their room, I soon found out they were swingers." "The plot thickens," Jonas said, giving her hand a squeeze. "We had a wild night. They were so open about it and very attentive to my needs, if you know what I mean," Carmen said wickedly. "The two spent all night taking turns with her," Lance chimed in, dropping his voice a bit. The nearest other patrons were two booths down. He continued painting the picture for Jonas. "The wife does her first...Carmen's first female lover...and then the husband climbs on, does his business...then the wife goes down on her, cleans things up....let's Carmen get a little practice in," Lance wiggled his tongue at Carmen, and Jonas got the picture, "then the husband's ready to go again..." "I think he gets the picture," Carmen purred. "Yeah, well, tell him the rest," Lance said, draining his drink. "So, work the next morning was hell, I think I'd gotten about an hour's sleep. The next night I just slept in. I'm cleaning the swinger's cabin the following morning, and the wife comes back and asks me to join them again that night. She didn't have to do much of a sales job...I was certainly up for it." "Sounds like the Jordans had a hell of a good cruise," Jonas said, getting turned on by the scene Carmen was painting. "So I'm back in their cabin," Carmen continued, "right after dinner, and we're getting into it, and the guy tells me they aren't the only swingers on board...the whole hallway had been booked by a swinging club! So Mr. Jordan gets on the phone, and other couples start showing up, and .... clothes start coming off." Carmen steered his hand onto her bare knee and covered it with her hand. "There I was, a sixteen-year-old 'native' girl.....the men were lined up to three to four deep. I was the flavor of the night....after that, I was hooked. I just fell right into the whole hedonistic lifestyle." "Is that a story or what?!" Lance said and crunched some ice between his teeth. Jonas had to admit that it was; his trousers were tented up again. "So how did you get into the US?" he asked, massaging her leg. "The Jordans sponsored me. Filled out all the forms, told the nice immigration people that they just wanted to help me get a start, help me get an education......when all they really wanted was to fuck my brains out......mmmmmm, those were some good years." The waiter came back with the two orders of oysters, breaking the erotic spell Carmen had woven over him. "Eat up, boys," Carmen giggled as she twirled her hair. An hour later, they were back at Lance's condo. Lance opened the door and deactivated the security system as Carmen led Jonas back upstairs. They were all pretty well horny from the ride back; Carmen, sitting in the passenger seat, had been busy with her hand in Jonas's lap while Lance had scooted up behind her seat to drape a hand down her top. All a result of more Carmen stories during lunch. "Unzip me," Carmen said when they were in the bedroom, keeping her back to Jonas as she shook her ass at him. He quickly unzipped her tight skirt and slid it down her legs, exposing the thin straps of her thong panties and her gorgeous, soft butt. Jonas turned his palms away from himself and pressed them into her downy derriere, digging his fingers in and lifting her up slightly. "That's the spirit, Jonas," Carmen said, spinning in front of him and whipping her top open, holding it out like a pair of wings. "Feel these, baby." He grabbed her high-riding knockers and squeezed them together, using his thumbs to rub her stiff nipples. Carmen pulled her top off her shoulders and let it drop behind her before moving against him, bringing her arms up around his neck as he continued to play with her tanned tits. He could tell she wanted to be kissed, and he lowered his face to hers. Carmen kissed like she gave head - real well. Her tongue was in his mouth like a shot as he let his hands drop down her sides and pulled her against him. "Save some for me, Jonesy," he heard Lance say, and he broke their kiss to look over at his brother, who had his shirt off and was unbuttoning his jeans. Carmen had made them promise they would both fuck her together when they got back...the idea of doing two brothers turned her on. "I'm more than you two can handle!"Carmen challenged them as she pushed herself away from him and flopped back on the bed, scooting to the middle of the king-size spread, the heels of her boots digging into the cover. Apparently, she was going to leave them on. Jonas began to take his pants off as Carmen let her legs flop open. The small cloth of her thong hid her charms, but he could see she kept herself neatly trimmed. He laid his pants carefully over a chair and turned back to find she had bunched the material of the thong with her right hand, reshaping it into what amounted to a large piece of dental floss. Jonas could now see she had trimmed her muff in a narrow, three-inch strip that terminated in the top folds of her sex, right around the hood of her clitoris. She began pulling the cloth through her pussy lips as she eyed the progress of their disrobing.

Part 1

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11133.txt

AschePhnx@aol.com

Buffy The Vampire Slayer (Cordilia and Willow [ff])

"Do you guys feel hypnotized? Are we supposed to feel hypnotized? Do you think we were hypnotized? 'Cause I don't feel hypnotized," rambled Willow Rosenberg. Buffy and Xander stopped walking and just stared. "Willow, the guy was a fraud, although the monkey was kind of cool," stated Xander, "right, Buff?" "Definitely," agreed Buffy. "I'm not really one to fall for that 'Ooga wooga, you're under my control' mumbo jumbo. Slaying legions of the undead, yes; Marvo the Marvelous, no." Xander rolled his eyes. "You couldn't have just said 'Yes, Xander, you're so right?'" Buffy gave him a look and tried to suppress her laughter. The trio's hypnosis discussion, or lack thereof, was interrupted when Cordelia approached them. "Oh look. It's the..." Xander scrambled to find his words of insult, but Willow spoke before he could finish. "It's Cordelia." Xander looked at Willow. "Yes. It's Cordelia," he said pointedly. "Look," began Cordelia as Xander sighed in impatience, "I really need some extra credit for my Psychology grade. Miss Alexander said I could get some if I interviewed this mental-" "Hypno-mentalist," corrected Willow. "Exactly why I'm here," continued Cordy, "I was wondering if you could give me a hand with it, since you're so...sciency." After a brief interlude of Xander's sarcasm, Willow and Cordelia went off to find the hypnotist. An hour later they met up with Buffy and Giles in the library. "So, the hypno twins are back," announced Buffy, "How'd it go?" "Boring as could be," uttered Cordelia, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, even I was losing interest," remarked Willow, "He kept going on and on about expressing your true self and there was this ball, I met the monkey. His name is Harpo." Giles tilted his head thoughtfully, "This, um, hypnotist... what was his name?" "Marvo the Marvelous," chimed the entire group, somewhat surprised with each other. "Yes, I do recall researching his methods in the past. He uses simple techniques to appear authentic. His personal methods, however, have proven to be quite successful." Buffy grabbed her bag. "Well, that's great Giles, but I've got a ton of trig to do, so I'm off." "Yeah, I've gotta book, too," replied Cordy. She turned to Willow, "So, you'll help me write up my paper review?" "Sure. Just let me know when." "How 'bout tomorrow. After school? My house?" "Okay." "Great." Cordelia hurried out of the library. Xander looked at Willow, "Tomorrow is Friday..." "Yes, that's the day that comes after Thursday, which is today," Willow stated. "I know that. But Cordelia always goes to the Bronze on Friday. We go to the Bronze on Friday. Do you see where I'm going with this." "Maybe she's planning to speed type and then go to the Bronze after. That's what I do." Willow gathered her things and booked out of the library. "But Cordelia's the social queen. Something's not right." Xander turned to see that Giles had gone into his office, "And I'm talking to myself, like an idiot." Friday mornings were always hectic at Sunnydale High School. The students were eager to start their weekends, and the teachers were just as anxious to send them on their merry ways so that they too could begin their weekend rituals. Buffy and Xander were discussing the previous evening's events, which involved Buffy and, what else, a vampire. Cordelia turned the corner and began to approach them. Buffy looked at her and did a double-take. Cordelia was dressed in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. Xander noticed Buffy looking at something and turned to see Cordelia. "The queen of fashion dressed like that," Xander commented, "If this is a dream, please, just let me sleep five more minutes." Behind them, Willow approached from the opposite end of the hall. They both met Buffy, Xander and Giles at the same moment, and seemed to take a minute to look at each other. Later that day, Cordelia was searching for Willow. School was out and she wanted to get her paper written so she would have time to go to the Bronze. She opened the door to the music room, not sure if Willow was a band geek, but one could never be too thorough. Someone was playing a lilting Tori Amos tune on the piano. Sure enough, it was Willow pounding away on the keys. "Wow, I didn't know you could play," Cordelia commented, startling Willow. "Oh! I... uh... don't play much around people... or never around people." Cordelia slowly walked to the piano bench. "Do you think you could teach me something?" "Um..." Willow felt funny, but she wasn't sure why, other than feeling completely nervous about the whole situation. Cordelia sat down next to Willow. "Well, this here is middle C," Willow pointed to a key. "And you put your hand here," she took Cordy's hand, placing it on middle C. She placed her hand on top of Cordelia's, surprised at the dizzying effect she was getting from the feeling of Cordy's hand under her own. "What is going on in here!" belted a voice from the doorway. The girls turned to see Principal Snyder. "School is over. That means go home!" Minutes later, they were in Cordelia's car on their way to write the psychology paper. Cordelia pulled into the empty three-car garage of her high-class Sunnydale home. "Wow. This is beautiful," exclaimed Willow, as they entered the house. "Yeah, but it gets old after a while. Especially the Golden Swan Fountain," Cordy pointed to a Golden Swan Fountain and giggled. Willow began to giggle, too. Cordelia grabbed her hand, "C'mon, I'll show you my room." "Are we being too rambunctious? Won't your parents get kind of... parenty if we keep being silly?" "They're off in Rio or somewhere this weekend. Again." "Oh." "Here, this is my room," Cordy opened a door to reveal a simple, but nicely decorated room. "This is nice." "I like simplicity. It makes life easier, especially when I have to keep up the popular thing. It's such a drain." "Then why do you do it?" "It's just the way I am, I guess. But enough about me." Willow blinked. Did Cordelia Chase just say "enough about me"? "Cordelia, are you feeling all right?" "Never better. I actually feel kind of... freakie yesterday..." Willow nodded, "Me too." They stared at each other for a minute. Willow took a step closer to Cordelia. "You don't think that Marvo really..." "Really what? Surfaced our inner feelings?" "Yeah." "I don't know and I don't care. All I know is that I've felt this way for you for a long time..." "Felt... this way?" Willow leaned forward and kissed Cordelia softly on the lips. "Forward much?" remarked Cordelia as Willow broke the kiss. Then Cordelia wrapped her arms around Willow and leaned in for another. This time the kiss was more passionate. Willow slowly slid her tongue into Cordelia's mouth. While their tongues danced in fiery intimacy, Willow's hands moved along Cordelia's body, down to her waist, pulling her closer, then up to her breasts, where she ran her thumbs across Cordy's erect nipples. Cordy broke the kiss, reached down and pulled off her shirt to give Willow better access. Willow smiled, gleefully, and pulled Cordy to the queen-sized bed. Willow tugged at Cordelia's top. After a short while, they had both successfully removed all of each other's clothing. Willow laid Cordelia down and hovered over her. They kissed again. Willow began to kiss Cordy's neck and shoulders and then moved down to the May Queen's perfect breasts. She kissed them and began to lick one as her hand explored the other. Cordelia's moans of approval persuaded her to continue on this voyage. As her lips continued, her other hand moved down between Cordy's thighs. Willow heard Cordelia's sharp intake of breath and smiled. "You know, Cordy. I could stop now if you want..." Willow teased, playfully. "Don't you DARE!" was Cordy's response. Willow slowly began to stroke Cordelia's inner lips.It was hot and wet inside the realms of the cheerleader's womanhood. Willow slipped in a finger. Cordelia moaned. As she continued this movement, Willow kissed down Cordy's stomach to the patch of curls leading to Cordyland. Willow breathed in the sweet scent of Cordelia. She lowered herself into Cordy, her tongue probing deep inside, eagerly tasting the fashion-conscious popularity guru. Cordelia arched her back as Willow replaced her finger with her tongue. She had never felt so good. Not even when she was nominated for Junior Miss Sunnydale. Willow continued to caress Cordy's insides with her tongue, quickening the pace. Cordelia's breath became sharper and faster; she pressed her hips into Willow's face. Willow slid her finger in alongside her tongue, rubbing in alternate motions. "God, Will! Don't - ever stop!" Cordy's body was white-hot. Her breath was quick and sharp as she convulsed on the bed. Willow felt her tightening around her tongue and finger. She remained there until Cordelia relaxed, then kissed her way up to her mouth and planted a kiss on her lips. They held each other, peaceful, just happy to lie in the arms of each other. Willow smiled slyly, "Betcha never thought I could do that." Cordy smiled back, "You'd be surprised what I've thought about you." "Oh really?" Cordelia just grinned and ran her finger down Willow's chest. "I've had my eye on you for a long time, Willow Rosenberg." She kissed Willow with driving force and then moved down her body, kissing here and there until she reached Willow's wet, throbbing hot spot. She ran her tongue along the outside of Willow's crotch. Willow groaned in approval. Cordelia then thrust her tongue inside, eager to taste what she'd been dreaming about for so long. She lapped in increasing speed as Willow writhed and spasmed. Willow was already hot from the excitement she had been able to give Cordelia, and it wasn't going to take much more to send her over the edge. She pressed her hips into Cordelia as she began to move her tongue in circles. This was enough for Willow. Her body tightened as she was washed in a wave of hot/cold electricity. Cordelia resumed her place next to Willow. After Willow regained the ability to move again, she snuggled closer to Cordelia and kissed her softly. That night at the Bronze, Buffy and Xander wondered about Willow and Cordelia. "Do you think they'll show?" asked Buffy. "It's not like either of them to miss a night of frolicky fun. Besides, this is Sunnydale, land of the Hellmouth, what else is there to do," Xander remarked. A voice came from behind them. "Hi, guys! Sorry we're late." They turned to see Willow, wearing what looked to be a Todd Oldham original. Buffy tilted her head, puzzled. "Where'd you get the cool dress, Willers?" "Oh, Cordy lent it to me..." Willow replied, matter-of-factly. Buffy and Xander looked at each other, mouthing "Cordy" questioningly. Cordelia approached the group with two bottles of Aquafina in hand and handed one to Willow, "Here you go, love." Willow took the bottle and set it on the table. "Thanks, but right now," she said, grabbing the other bottle from Cordelia and setting it on the table as well, "I want to dance." She took Cordelia by the hand and led her out on the dance floor. Buffy and Xander just stared. Xander spoke first. "Oh-" Buffy interrupted. "-my" "god!" they both finished. THE END

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/16485.txt

Candy Kane

Girls Loving Girls Part 1

"Karen, I'm going for a hot shower," Brenda said as the movie ended. "Want to join me?" She got up from the couch and stretched her arms over her head; her breasts pushed her T-shirt out as it rode up, exposing her bare navel and tiny bikini panties. It was Saturday, and our parents were away for the weekend. My seventeen-year-old sister and I (I'm sixteen) had decided to spend the evening at home watching TV. The main reason: neither one of us had a date. "Sounds inviting," I said. "You get started while I clean up." I watched her head up the stairs, her long, tanned and slim legs, her bare feet padding on the carpet. Then I picked up the empty popcorn bowls and soda glasses and went to the kitchen. The movie we rented was very sexy with lots of nudity. Brenda and I had been lying on each end of our large living room couch. My hand had slipped down between my legs a few times during the really hot scenes, and I could tell from Brenda's squirming that she was enjoying herself too. By the end of the movie, I was definitely turned on and very wet. I knew from Brenda's suggestion that she was just as horny as I was. Taking a shower together was not unusual; we loved being naked and touching. When we were younger, it was innocent, sisterly stuff: inquisitive fingers exploring under a nightie or a bathing suit. But as teenagers, there were times when it went a lot further. Like the first time Brenda made out with a boy. She raced home to tell me. I wanted to know how it felt, so she showed me. From then on, we would practice our kissing techniques on each other before we went out on a date. Sometimes I wondered which I liked more, making out with my sister or my boyfriends. We shared a large bedroom with two beds, but in the winter we often slept together. Many nights, we would snuggle up to get warm, and our hands would wander, caress, and search. It was so erotic to fall asleep with our bodies entwined and my hand between Brenda's legs or hers on my breast. One night, I woke up to feel her finger in me. She must have been having a very wet dream; she was fingering me in her sleep. I thought it was so adorable and returned the favor, awakening her from her slumber with a warm, wet orgasm. The memory sent a tingle down between my legs as I finished cleaning up the kitchen and headed upstairs to our parent's huge bathroom. It had a whirlpool and double-headed shower. I could see Brenda through the steamy glass shower doors. She had her head tilted back, letting the hot water wash over her face. Her small breasts pointed straight out. As she turned around, I could see the V-shaped patch of fur over her crotch that pointed like an arrow to her slit. I had trimmed it for her only a few days before and called it my "get to the point" design. I pulled my T-shirt over my head and pushed my panties down my legs. The crotch was still wet from playing with myself while watching the sexy movie. Sliding the glass door open, I stepped inside as the steam rushed up and surrounded me. "We need a washcloth," I said and turned to go get one. "Wait, Karen." Brenda held my arm. "Just your hands." "You're such a bad girl," I said as she pulled me into the two streams of water. Brenda handed me a bar of soap and turned to face the marble wall. "Do my back." I lathered up my hands and rubbed them in big circles over her back, starting at her shoulders and working my way down. Brenda leaned forward, placing her hands on the wall; her head faced down between her arms as the hot water sprayed over her. I increased my circles to include her ribs and hips, letting my hands reach around to sweep over her breasts. Every second or third time, I would stop on her nipples and give them extra attention; they hardened at my touch. I ran my hands along her arms, stopping to gently rub her underarms. My sister was very sensitive there and had told me that when I kissed or caressed her underarms, it sent sparks shooting down between her legs. I hoped it was working now. From there, I lathered up the soap again and worked my way down to her bottom. And what a thing of beauty: tight and perfectly shaped. Brenda's clothes clung so nicely to it; I know because I watched it just as much as everyone else did when she walked down the hall at school. Brenda and I loved to play little sex games when we were in public. Like at school, we would go into a stall in the bathroom and finger each other. Then we would switch panties. During the next class, I would push the wet crotch of her panties into me. What a turn-on it was to smell her pussy on my fingers and know her sticky girl-cum was inside me, mixing with mine. We were always seeing how much we could get away with. Once in a crowded elevator on our way up to our father's office, I was squeezed in close behind Brenda. Without anyone knowing, she reached behind and slipped her hand under my mini-skirt. By the time I realized what she was doing, her finger was around the edge of my panties and into my pussy. I was so flushed I almost fainted. As the doors opened and we stepped out, she licked her finger. "My favorite flavor," she said with a wink. I was destroyed for the rest of the afternoon. But I always got her back. Like the time our family sat at the table eating dinner and our mother was discussing some important school event with Brenda. I sat across from my sister, and while she tried to talk, I slipped my bare foot up between her legs and rubbed her crotch with my big toe. Paybacks are hell, I thought, as I watched her squirm. As the hot water created a cloud of steam that wrapped itself around us, I leaned forward and kissed Brenda's back. Then I lathered up again and rubbing her beautiful bottom. Running my slippery hand up and down her crack, I could tell she was getting aroused. Her breathing deepened and she spread her legs. "Get it really clean," Brenda said, smiling over her shoulder. "Expecting company?" I asked. "Only that nasty little tongue of yours." "My, aren't we horny tonight." I squatted down and ran my soapy hands along her legs, enjoying the feel of her soft inner thighs. While I stroked them, my eyes never left that gorgeous ass right in front of my face, particularly her puckered little hole. It looked like a small flower, and I remembered the first time I saw it up close. We were in bed one night exploring each other's bodies using only the glow of a flashlight. Brenda lay on her stomach and stuck her bottom up. She reached back and spread her cheeks so I could see her hole, asking me what it looked like. I told her I thought it was the most beautiful thing in the world, next to her pussy of course. That night we discovered just what a turn-on it was smelling and licking each other's bottoms. I continued washing Brenda's legs, working my way up until I was stroking her pussy from behind. She moaned at my touch. Then I took my thumbnail and softly scratched her anus, causing an immediate contraction of her cheeks. I pushed the tip of my thumb against her asshole and let it gently slide in about the depth of my nail. Brenda responded by pushing back, trying to force it in further. With my thumb inside her, I stood up and let my hips press up against her ass. Spreading my legs slightly, I brought my pussy against the back of my hand and started a slow pumping rhythm as my thumb slid in and out of her while I massaged her cunt. Next, I leaned over so my breasts could lie against her back. I reached my other hand around and cupped her left breast, taking her swollen nipple between my fingers and giving it a firm squeeze. I pushed my pussy against my hand, forcing my thumb up inside her rectum as far as it would go. "God, that feels so good," she managed to say as she met my thrusts. "Just the right size." Her words were slurred as her breathing quickened, her body trembled, her stomach sucked in and out. I know my sister well; she was going to come fast and hard. I loved the feel of my cunt pressing against my hand, but right then I was thinking only of her; all I wanted was to make her come. God, if I only had a dick. She climaxed with a shudder, gritting her teeth and jerking her head up and back. She made a low moaning sound as she closed her eyes, the steaming water washing over us.I slowed my thrusts and tried to support Brenda to keep her from sinking to the floor, her legs shaking, her body limp. Slowly she recovered and caught her breath. As I took my thumb out of her, I gave her pussy a few loving strokes and covered her back and neck with kisses. She straightened and turned around, her eyes glazed over with sex. Brenda wrapped her arms around my neck and locked her mouth on mine, her tongue shot out in a hot, wet kiss. It was not a sisterly peck but a full-blown "fuck me" kiss. Our breasts pressed together wet and slippery, soft and wonderful. We shifted slightly so our pussies could grind against each other's thighs. Finally, we broke the embrace and I took Brenda by the hand. "Let's dry off and go to bed," I said. "Is that a proposition?" she asked with a giggle. "Let's just say I heard you were an easy lay." She kissed me again while she slid her hand down my stomach to my pussy, her middle finger resting between my folds. Then she whispered into my ear, "We're wasting time talking when we could be fucking." Shutting off the water, we opened the glass doors and stepped out. Brenda grabbed two large towels and we dried each other off. I was so turned on I wanted to pull her down on the floor and eat her right there. But before I could, Brenda threw her towel over my head. "So you think I'm an easy lay, do you? Well, little sister, if you want to fuck me, you've got to catch me first." With that, she ran out the door and down the hall. Tossing the towel aside, I raced after her, thoroughly enjoying her girlish laughter and the sight of her bouncing ass and long legs as she disappeared around a corner. Down the stairs we ran, two naked girls chasing each other like dogs in heat. The sight would have given any boy an instant hard-on and any girl a wet crotch. We raced around, me catching her only to have Brenda slip out of my grasp and sprint to the next room. Finally, she ran back up the stairs, heading for our parent's room and their king-size bed. Brenda yanked the covers off and threw them to the side. Then she scrambled onto the bed and positioned herself with her back to the headboard. I rushed in and stopped a few feet away to catch my breath. "Is there something you wanted, young lady?" she said nonchalantly as if she had just noticed me for the first time. I squatted down with my arms resting on my knees. Then I slowly ran my hands along the inside of my thighs until they were at my crotch. Brenda kept her gaze locked on the spot between my legs as I spread myself open. I was so wet that when the cool air hit my hole, it gave me a rush. We liked to use our parent's big bed when they were out of town on business trips. We would fill the room with the scent of our lovemaking and I often wondered if mom and dad could smell all the girl-cum that had dried on their sheets. I gave out a little growl and went down on my hands and knees, my cunt throbbing, ready to be eaten. I slowly crawled toward the bed and at the edge I growled again and climbed up the side until I was poised like a cat on the far corner. "Is the lioness hungry?" Brenda asked. I growled again, deep and sexy. Brenda brought her knees up and spread her legs apart. Then she reached down with her fingertips and opened herself. I could see drops of moisture on her short fur, the inside of her hole glistened. "Here's your dinner, pussycat, hot and pink, just like you like it." I crawled forward until I was directly over her crotch. Her scent filled my nostrils. I was so turned on, my body shook, my eyes blurred. I bent down and kissed her pussy with the same passion I would have kissed her mouth. Then I lowered myself onto the bed, the cool sheets felt wonderful on my naked body that was still sweaty from our chase. As Brenda wrapped her long legs around my head, I buried my face and devoured her like a hungry animal; licking, sucking and drinking in all the love juice that flowed out of her. I reached up, took her nipples between my fingertips, and squeezed them as I licked her. She moved her hips in unison to my thrusts and her soft purring quickly turned to moans as her body built to a climax. Brenda ran her fingers through my hair, pushing on my head to force my tongue deeper. Finally, she stiffened and squeezed me tight with her legs as the orgasm rocked her. I slowed and opened my eyes, looking up at her. It was the most beautiful sight I could imagine as I watched her drift in and out of the blissful haze. "Come here, sweet baby," she said, holding her arms open. I crawled up her body licking and kissing as much of her along the way as I could. When our lips were inches apart, she wrapped her arms around my neck and we kissed, trying to eat each other with our hot mouths. My lips and cheeks were covered with her cum and she seemed to relish licking it all off. "I love making you come," I said between kisses. "Really, I hadn't noticed." We both giggled as we continued planting kisses all over our faces. "You've been doing all the work," Brenda said when we finally stopped to catch our breath. "Now it's my turn." "Heads or tails?" I asked. "Tails, of course," she replied and scooted out from under me. Still on my stomach, I waited until she positioned herself behind me before I pulled my knees in and stuck my ass up. I could feel her warm breath as she sniffed me like a puppy. Then she ran her tongue up and down my crack using the tip to tease my asshole before moving down to lick my pussy. "You smell so good," she said between licks. "Good enough to eat?" I asked with a wiggle. Her answer was a loud moan as she pressed her face into me and devoured my pussy. Brenda knew how much I loved being eaten from behind and electricity shot through me when her tongue went in my pussy and her nose pushed on my anus. I reached back to spread my cheeks and she rubbed my legs and ass, her experienced tongue doing exactly what I liked. "Oh, you nasty girl!" I said through clenched teeth. Suddenly the phone rang. "Shit!" Brenda said looking up. "Don't they know we're busy?" Slowly I swung around out of breath, my chest heaving. "It could be mom or dad. We've got to answer it." I took her face in my hands and pulled her mouth to mine. I could taste my cum all over her. "Fuck!" she said as we broke the kiss. "Hold that thought." I rolled over to reach the phone on the table beside the bed. "Hello." I listened for a moment and then held my hand over the receiver. "It's Mrs. Cummings from down the street," I whispered. "She's been called into an emergency shift at the hospital and her husband's on the road. She wants to know if we could babysit Lisa tonight?" "Lisa?" "You know, her twelve-year-old." While I talked with Mrs. Cummings, I watched Brenda as she slowly slipped two fingers in and out of her pussy. She knew she was driving me crazy when she brought them up and licked off her juice. With a wicked smile, she stuck her fingers deep inside her again and then offered them to me. "Cut that out, Brenda," I whispered. "We have to decide. Do we want her over here or not?" "Well," Brenda said between licks, "how can we fuck when there's a twelve-year-old around to watch?" Then she paused for a moment and said, "Unless..." "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" I said slyly. "Maybe we could have some three-way fun." Brenda reached over and ran her hand down between my legs. "Is that all you think about?" I said, pushing her away. "Oh and you don't?" "Mrs. Cummings," I said with difficulty as Brenda played with me. "We'd love to help you out. Just send Lisa on over and don't worry about a thing. She'll be in good hands." Brenda laughed out loud at that last comment and I found it hard to keep a straight face until I hung up. "You have the dirtiest mind of anyone I know," I said. Then I leaned over and put my lips to her ear. "Besides, what if I don't want to share you with some little twelve-year-old cunt." Brenda ran her fingers through my hair. "Remember, lover, what's between my legs is yours anytime you want it." She kissed me hard, then said, "Now I wonder what it would take to get in Lisa's panties?" "She is kind of cute." I casually played with Brenda's patch of pubic fleece. "I saw her in a two-piece not too long ago," Brenda said. "She's got a nice ass and her tits are just starting to come out." "Then let's get dressed and be ready to eat, I mean greet her." We both laughed as I rolled off the bed and reached out my hand. Brenda took it and we headed down the hall arm-in-arm. "What do you wear to seduce a twelve-year-old girl?" I said. "Now who's got the dirty mind?" she said and ran her hand down my bare ass. End of part 1.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/8876.txt

Corn53

Marie Clair-Birthday Games

"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. The five of them came 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. She heard people bringing in the plates of ice cream and cake and then felt her feet being unfastened from the table and refastened to a bar of some kind which kept her feet about 2 1/2 feet apart. They fastened her wrist cuffs to another bar - like a broomstick - behind her back, which kept her arms straight out. They took off her shoes and socks so she could get better footing. 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. "Bravo, Brian!" "That's got her going!" "Good job, Lad!" "See how her breasts jiggle, Mommy?" "Perfect aim, Brian!" "Harder!" and other comments as he 'trained' her to go faster for several minutes. Between smacks, Marie Clair heard Dr. Hardman's deep voice tell someone, "That boy has presidential qualities... a natural leader." 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 her 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. And 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."Some are composites of memories which readers have shared with me. Thank you for your help with this "literary research." - Corn53) My stories can be found at www.mrdouble.com or at www.spiralzone.com - both are free sites.

Part 4 of 4

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11770.txt

JR Parz

Rings of Transformation

"Damn!" Bart Stearns muttered under his breath. This was the third time Tara Seavers rejected him. As Bart watched the girl walk away, he gazed at the sway of her buttocks. Tara then turned the corner and disappeared out of sight. Bart's attention was then drawn to the laughter behind him. He turned around and saw both David and Ray laughing at him. They had warned him only moments before that he'd be making an even bigger fool of himself this time than before, but he ignored their advice. He just wasn't in the mood for 'I told you so'. He looked over at the exit sign and decided he'd had enough. Bart headed for the door and walked right out of school. It all started less than a month ago. It was his buddy, Ray, who first told him about the beautiful new transfer student. 'Wait until you see her, she's a knockout.' At the time, Bart was going steady with Lisa Templeton. Had been for nearly a year, and he had absolutely no interest in ruining a good thing. When he did eye Tara for the first time, she proved to be everything Ray said she was...and more. Bart decided to eliminate the temptation by avoiding her. Tara stood about 5'6" with long wavy blond hair. Curvaceous, yet slim, weighing 120 lbs. Her face was beautiful and sexy, highlighted by sparkling blue eyes. Her breasts, although not as large as Lisa's, did fill a 'C' cup, and jiggled and bounced with every step she took. Tara instantly became the talk of Cheshire High School, and most likely, the fantasy of every male's wet dream. It was a Sunday morning when Bart woke up to something different. He reached down to find the longest and hardest erection of his young life. This wasn't what was different, though, as he often woke with a hard-on. What was different was that his mind was consumed with someone other than Lisa...and her name was Tara Seavers. Bart couldn't understand his sudden obsession with Tara, but the intensity of his feelings wouldn't be denied. Initially, Lisa reaped the benefits of his increased passion. Every time he entered her, he thought of Tara. The harder he pounded into her, the more he visualized Tara underneath him. Despite Lisa's sexy response, who was enjoying the best sex ever, it was becoming harder and harder for him to come. His arousal didn't dissipate, just his ability to come. When Bart wasn't in bed with Lisa, he was privately masturbating. It did nothing to slake his unholy passion, and he found his obsession with Tara getting the better of him. Bart knew Lisa was well aware of the effect Tara was having on the other guys throughout the school. Lisa understood this more than anybody, given her own beauty and similar effect. Lisa was the school's head cheerleader, and before Tara's arrival, she was without question the best looking girl in school. Lisa stood five feet - eight inches with shoulder length brown hair. She possessed huge, dark brown eyes and a vivacious amazon-like figure. In fact, some of her friends nicknamed her Xena, after the Warrior Princess from television. Lisa would comment that she felt she was prettier than Lucy Lawless, and Bart and everyone around would agree. When Lisa performed various cheers, which included bridge kick overs and back hand springs, every set of male eyes would be drawn to the bounce and jiggle of her tremendous breasts! Bart remembered the night he first had sex with Lisa. It was nearly a year ago. He remembered his excitement when he stripped off Lisa's bra, setting free a set of tits that took his breath away. He reached down and kissed each nipple while cupping each breast in the palms of his hands. He later couldn't resist looking at Lisa's bra tag, and noted the size. Out loud he proclaimed '36DD!' and Lisa smiled. Lisa loved having the nicest set of tits in her school, and she got the biggest charge when the guys, and even girls, would be distracted from what they were doing to gaze at her tits. Bart still found it hard to believe that Lisa and him were no longer an item. They broke up about a week ago, when he accidentally yelled out Tara's name during sex with her. It happened while he was sliding his dick in and out of Lisa, and just as he was about to shoot his load, he cried out Tara's name. "You bastard!" Lisa responded and then proceeded to go ballistic on him. As Bart rushed to put his clothes on, he heard Lisa shouting; "We're through!". Bart tried to rationalize that maybe the break-up was a blessing in disguise. As much as Bart enjoyed fucking Lisa, he thought that now he'd be able to concentrate all his energies on Tara. Never, in his wildest nightmares, did he ever imagine how difficult this would be. Bart wasn't used to rejection. As a child, he always stood out as the cutest boy in his class. The girls just flocked to him, and he took them for granted. Not only was he considered cute, he was the town's best athlete, and in his freshman year, he made the varsity in all three sports; Baseball, Football and Hockey. Bart quickly became the school's most popular boy, and it was in these early years of high school that Bart literally played the field. It wasn't until mid way through his junior year when he fell for Lisa. In addition to this strange obsession he felt for Tara, he found himself extremely nervous whenever he was around her. Why was he so nervous to talk to her? Why did he feel she was so much better than him? Was he ever this nervous? The thought brought him back to his first time. Her name was Sally Springs. He was only thirteen at the time! Now, Sally attended USC, but at the time, she was a very sexy seventeen year old. Sally lived next door and would often tease him by sunbathing nude in her back yard. Of course, she did this when neither his or her parents were home. Her fence was tall enough where no one from the street could see, but his bedroom was on the second floor, so he saw everything. She always wore sunglasses, so he never knew if she saw him gazing down at her. One day, she waved, gesturing him to come over. It didn't sink in at first, but when it did, he practically flew over there. Bart smiled at the memory of Sally stripping him of his jeans, tee shirt, and finally his Calvin underwear. Sally quickly laid his naked body back on the recliner, and mounted him. All seven inches of his throbbing erection slid into her. It didn't take but a few humps for both of them to orgasm. Sally then lifted her rump and turned around. While Bart felt Sally take his soft dick into her mouth, she lowered her lovely rounded ass on his face. It didn't take long before Bart was hard and ready again, while Sally basked in yet another orgasm. They would end up doing fucking fourteen more times before she left for college. By the time Bart entered his freshman year of high school, he was reputed to be the school's stud. He possessed the ability to charm the panties off of any girl and collected five cherries before settling down with Lisa. What Bart learned, was that girls didn't say 'no' to him. Not until Tara, that is. Bart stood stunned. Tara actually smiled at him while shaking her head 'no'. It was almost as if she expected him to ask, and she couldn't wait to shoot him down. It took a few moments before Bart's face regained its original color. As he walked away, he couldn't for the life of him, understand how any girl could say 'no' to him. Bart let three days pass before finding the nerve to approach her again. This time he told his friends about his interest in her, and they joked that she was quickly gaining a reputation as the school's ice queen. Bart wasn't aware that there were others trying to go out with her, but the news didn't surprise him. Apparently, they were dealt the same blow he was, but at least his initial failure wasn't public knowledge. Bart spent some money on a dozen roses, and approached her in the hallway next to her locker.He could see that Tara saw him approaching, and he also noted that she glanced at the flowers. He remembered stumbling over his words: "Tara. These roses are for you. May I follow them up with dinner, tonight at 7:30 p.m.?" Tara didn't smile this time, she smirked! Her hands never left her side as she replied, "No. I really don't want to go out with you." Then she walked away. Bart stood there speechless, holding flowers in his hands. Now Bart officially joined the rejected list. Dave and Ray gave him hell. They laughed so hard they cried, and he knew that this was payback for all the times he laughed at them. Bart hated this girl now, but it seemed the more he hated her, the more he had to have her. He just couldn't understand his obsession with her. II. Bart pulled his sporty blue Firebird into the Sterling Mall parking lot without any real conscious thought as to why. He got out of the car and headed for the entrance. It was as if his legs belonged to somebody else. They propelled him along, but he had no idea where he was going. As he made his way towards the food court, he abruptly stopped dead in his tracks. He looked to his left and there it was: "Spells R Us". Bart never saw this store before as his legs pushed him forward to take a look. A jingling sound announced his arrival. It took Bart a few seconds to locate an older gentleman, wearing what appeared to be a bathrobe, kneeling down at the far end of the store. The man was stocking a shelf while Bart stood there in confusion. "Hi Bart. I've been waiting for you. Please, come in...I'll be with you in a moment." Bart wondered what was going on as he slowly approached the man. He realized that he moved closer due to the same mysterious force that brought him here in the first place. "How do you know me...and what's going on?" The old man stood up and looked him over. "You did note the store's name, right? I'm a wizard and knowing who you are is the very least of my talents...as far as what is going on, let me have a few seconds to finish stocking this shelf." Bart stood still, not sure if he should run out of the store or stay. The wizard finished and turned to him. "So, you've been having problems with a certain girl named Tara...haven't you?" "Wh....what?...How do you know Tara?" "Listen Bart. If I'm going to help you, the least you can do is pay attention. I'm a wizard, remember?" Bart nodded. "Now, let me put this in simple terms...an analogy if you will. Wouldn't you agree with the saying: 'three strikes and you're out?'" Bart continued to stare at the older man in astonishment. He hadn't even told his friends about his first rejection...how did he know about any of them!?! "Don't feel too bad. Tara hasn't really been playing fair with you. In fact, you didn't have a prayer of getting into her pants...that is what you wanted, isn't it." Bart actually blushed when the man made reference to sex. "What do you mean by Tara isn't playing fair?" "Tara has been hiding her true motives. You see, Tara isn't into guys...she's into girls." Bart's eyes lit up with disbelief. "You mean...she's a lesbian?" "Yep...and she's used witchcraft on you...well, voodoo to be more precise." "Huh?...I...I've been under a spell?" "Yep...think back to that morning when you woke up lusting for her. Ever since then, you've been totally obsessed with her...right?" "Well...er...yeah." "Incidentally, how do you feel about her now?" Bart's eyes lit up. Now that he thought about it...the desire to be with her was gone. "Great! I'm okay!" "Yeah, for the time being...but that's only because you're in my shop. The second you step outside my shop, this protection you feel from her magic will come back full force." "Then I'm stuck like this forever?" "Nope...I would venture to say that she'll be lifting the spell real soon in order to use the doll on her intended subject." "Who?" "Her real desire." "Real desire?...who?" "Your ex-girlfriend." "Lisa!" "You see, Bart, your obsession with Tara was due to voodoo. She owns a voodoo lust doll and with a simple incantation, the doll has been transformed into your likeness. She used your desire to break-up the two of you, and as a bonus, she decided to publicly humiliate you." "Wh...what is Tara going to do to Lisa?" "I would say she's going to be placing the same type of spell on Lisa as she did with you...I would guess sometime tomorrow. You'll know when it happens." "But wait, Lisa's not a lesbian...she's sickened by the idea of being in the same bed with another girl...I can't see how she can just change...and what do you mean; 'I'll know it when it happens?" The wizard smiled at Bart. "You'll know because she only has one voodoo doll. In order for Tara to place the spell on Lisa, she has to lift the spell off of you. Second, if you are talking about the time Lisa became upset when you proposed the idea of a two on one with her and her best friend. Think again. Under normal conditions you'd be right...but remember, we aren't talking about normal conditions?" Bart just gave the wizard a stupid confused look. The wizard continued, "It doesn't matter what Lisa is or isn't. She'll find herself fighting the same intense attraction for Tara as you did. In fact, given Lisa's the object of Tara's desire, I would expect she'll use a more powerful spell. All of Lisa's thoughts will be centered on Tara. She won't understand them and I expect she'll try fighting them, but it won't help her." "This is unbelievable! I can't let this happen to Lisa! What can I do to stop this?" The wizard looked at him with a grin. "I'm glad you asked. In fact, I was hoping that you'd want Lisa back...I can help you get Lisa back and take care of Tara in the process...interested?" "I...I...think I love Lisa...I'll do anything to get her back...but why are you helping?" The wizard smiled. "Anytime supernatural powers are being used, I'm notified and must take appropriate action. Tara doesn't have any real powers herself, but the voodoo doll and the knowledge of how to cast the lust spell is enough for her to cause problems. She was a sweet innocent girl before she received this voodoo doll. Tara's aunt gave Tara the voodoo doll at her sixteenth birthday party...along with the knowledge. We think there has to be some evil influence at work. Tara was a perfectly normal sweet girl before the gift, and over one year's time she's used her voodoo powers to sexually enslave three girls. Two are from her previous high school, and although they are no longer under Tara's spell, they are still going to counseling from the experience. The other girl is a waitress Tara met the first night she arrived. Not counting you, Lisa will be the fourth." Bart watched the wizard pull out a small box he had in his bathrobe pocket. He handed it to Bart, who in turn, opened it. Inside the box laid three rings. The rings were made of gold. "The rings are already charmed and ready for use. It doesn't matter which ring is used, the spells are triggered by the wearer and the situation." Bart looked at the rings and asked, "What will the rings do?" "First, the other rings will only work if you are first wearing yours. Then Lisa's will be activated and finally, Tara's. The spells take effect immediately. I must warn you...make sure the ring isn't forced off any one of you. This is absolutely imperative." "What happens...I mean, what does the ring make happen...and what happens if I force a ring off?" "Each action triggers a reaction. Each ring is set up the same way. Everything depends on timing and circumstances. The spell will handle all the variables and alter whatever is necessary to succeed in its mission. If the ring is forced off before the mission ends, you would all be stuck." Bart felt nervous. Stuck? What did the wizard mean? Before Bart had a chance to ask, the wizard continued, "You'll understand everything as it's happening....just let the rings dictate your next move. Well, are you game?" Bart pictured Lisa with Tara, and felt anger. "Alright, I'll do it!" "Good." Replied the wizard. Bart extended his hand for a handshake, sealing their agreement. III. It wasn't until later on that evening when Bart was finally feeling relief from Tara's spell. With his sexual hunger subsiding, he knew it meant Lisa would soon be feeling hers. Just as the wizard had said, the spell enveloped him the second he stepped out of the store. It took every ounce of his will power to stop himself from going to her. It wasn't until after dinner that he felt the desire dissipate. Bart went over to his dresser, and picked up one of the rings. He looked at it closely for a second and then slipped it on. Almost immediately, he felt drowsy and needed to sleep. Usually, Bart slept in the nude...tonight, was no different. IV. Lisa had been tossing and turning in bed. All night her mind was going in directions she never ever imagined before. Why was she thinking of that new girl, Tara Seavers...and why was she thinking of her in a way that made her blush? Lisa stripped her teddy and panties off. Maybe being naked would help her sleep. She felt 'hot'. When she closed her eyes, she envisioned Tara. Lisa let her hands roam over her body, and finally down to her vagina...her thumb and a couple of her fingers found her clit. Lisa's mind vividly pictured Tara laying beside her naked. Lisa tried shaking the picture out of her mind, but it didn't help. Tara's sex stared at her in all its glistening beauty, and Lisa responded with even a greater desire. Lisa's free hand played with her huge tits, alternating back and forth, while her mind pictured Tara bringing her mouth up and bite one of her nipples. Lisa gasped as a rush of pleasure flooded her groin.Lisa continued her ministrations on her clit, while her mind saw Tara use her tongue. "Unngghhhh." Lisa squeezed her thighs together, tight, trying to make her orgasm last. Lisa felt the tears slowly come down the sides of her cheeks. Despite the orgasm, she felt an emptiness without Tara. Lisa didn't want to go back to playing with her clit, but her hunger for sexual satiation overruled her mind. Soon her cries of sadness turned to cries of passion. Lisa finally fell asleep with three fingers buried deep inside herself. V. Bart woke up slowly, not even opening his eyes. He was curled up in a fetal position and reached down with his hand to scratch his groin area. The difference in his pubic hair and the lack of his male genitals didn't even register. When he turned over, he noticed a heaviness on his chest. This, however, did register. He opened his eyes in confusion. "Oh My God!" Bart screamed in a feminine voice! "Oh my god!" he again cried out, realizing his feminine voice. Bart cupped both breasts with his new feminine hands...and squeezed. They were huge! He quickly shot his right hand down to his crotch again...nothing! Just a...a...female vagina! Bart sprung up off the bed, and the quickness made his new huge breasts bounce and jiggle around while his long blond hair whipped around in front of his face. He looked down at his female nudity and couldn't believe what he saw. He ran over to the mirror and again was shocked! He wasn't just any girl...he was Tara! "Oh My God!" Bart walked over to his dresser and started looking through his drawers. What would he wear? How would he get to where he needed to go? Bart had to think. Was this permanent? It better not be, and he decided he wouldn't dwell on that. He then went over to his closet and threw on his bathrobe. He looked into the mirror. He had to admit, Tara's body looked spectacular in his bathrobe. He slowly opened the door and peeked down the hallway. No sign of his Mother. Bart pranced down the hallway to the phone. Quickly he called Lisa. "Hello," said Lisa's mother. "Hi...er...hi Mrs. Templeton...can I speak with Lisa?" "Ah...it is early. I think she's still sleeping." "Could you please tell her it's important...tell her...er...Tara's calling." "Alright...wait a second." Bart was nervous while he waited for Lisa. He kept on looking down the hallway at his Mom's room, praying she wouldn't wake up. How would he explain this, he wondered? He looked down to see his new female breasts poking out of his bathrobe. Now that he looked at them closer, they weren't as big as Lisa's...thank god he didn't have to deal with a set like those! While Bart waited, he envisioned Lisa's breasts...and then envisioned her completely naked, and felt himself getting horny. What a strange feeling he thought...female arousal. He used his free hand to reach down to his crotch...he was wet. "TARA!" Lisa's voice rang out with excitement. "Hi Lisa...have you been thinking about me?" "Please Tara...I don't understand it, but I need to see you," pleaded the sweet voice on the other end. "I know Lisa...listen, what I'm about to tell you will seem strange, but you have to trust me. I don't want you asking questions over the phone, so just do what I ask. Go over to Bart's and use the fire escape entrance. I'll be inside on his bed waiting for you. Trust me and do this." "Why are you there...you're with him, aren't you!?!" "Lisa, behave yourself...I haven't slept with him and don't plan to. I want you, and only you...I just need you to meet me in Bart's room. Come now...don't even shower. I want you as you are. Okay sweetie?" "Okay...I...I...think I love you...please be there...I'll be right over," Lisa stammered, and then hung up the phone. Bart suddenly heard some noise coming from his mother's room and he quickly ran down the hallway back to his room. His breasts bounced the whole way. The only thing he could do now was wait, so he went back over to the bed and laid there. He figured it would take Lisa about fifteen minutes to get here. Should he confide in Lisa? He thought about telling her everything, but then thought against it. The trip to the SpellsRUs shop, the rings, how Tara used voodoo to break up their relationship, and the spell she was under at this very moment would send her right over the edge. Stuff like this only happened in Internet stories. VI. When Lisa came through his window, Bart was laying on top of his covers in his unwrapped bathrobe. He smiled when he saw her, and thought she was the loveliest sight in the world. He could tell by Lisa's eyes that the spell Tara placed on her was working. Lisa had no idea he was inside Tara's body as she slowly approached the bed. "Hi Lisa...join me," Bart said with a female giggle. Bart couldn't believe how horny his Tara body was feeling. His eyes basked in the sight of his girlfriend stripping out of her jogging suit, followed by her panties and sports bra. Bart's eyes lit up at Lisa's huge breasts. He missed those the most during their brief break-up. Lisa quickly climbed on top of the bed and settled in between Bart's female legs. Lisa's mouth didn't waste time in finding Bart's clit and proceeded to lick and suck the wet juices inside his vagina. Bart didn't want to make noise in fear of his Mother hearing, but he found he had very little control over his female excitement. He ended up using a pillow to muffle his screams when he felt his first female orgasm. As soon as Bart recovered from Lisa's tongue lashing, he repositioned himself in a sixty-nine. Bart loved going down on Lisa when he was male, and felt an even greater excitement doing it as a female. When Bart dove in, he was quickly assaulted with a raunchy sweaty smell coming from her pussy. Instead of wanting Lisa to go shower, Bart found her smell work on him like an aphrodisiac, and he shoved his pretty nose and mouth down on her wet crotch. Lisa responded with a whimper, as she thrashed and moaned with every stab of his tongue. Soon both of them cried out another orgasm, as they licked and lapped every drop of each other's come. About an hour later, Bart finally broke the sated spell they were in; "Lisa...I have a ring here that I want you to wear...it will always show me how much you love me. It will be our sign...our bond." He watched Lisa take the ring, and slip it on her finger. Moments later, Bart watched his girlfriend begin a transformation... VII. Initially, Lisa was basking in the afterglow of sex, feeling too sated to really notice the changes going on...until of course, a flush of heat flooded her breasts. Lisa looked down at her chest and gasped. Were they getting smaller? Lisa loved her breasts, and she quickly grabbed them with both hands as if to stop their shrinking. It didn't help. "My tits...what's happening to them!?!" Lisa looked at Tara, who only smiled in response. As the last of her breasts disappeared, Lisa then felt a movement in her hips...then a shifting around her buttocks. Everything grew tighter. Lisa caught her hair strands also appear to shrink, as her shoulder-length hair quickly became a page boy style. Her hands confirmed this...and while doing this, she noticed her arms. In fact, hair sprouted all over her body, especially around her now muscled defined chest. Then it 'hit'. The feeling was so intense, and centered down in her groin area. Lisa looked down and whispered, "Oh my god." Lisa felt and watched the shifting in her crotch. Within seconds she recognized a male penis and testicles form. She reached down to touch it, as the growth continued...the mere contact of her hand sprung her new dick to life. Her eyes grew wide as her dick grew long and hard. "Oh my God!" she proclaimed louder, and this time in a male voice. Lisa bounced off the bed and ran over to the mirror...her gaze lasted a few seconds before fainting. VIII. Bart had quickly bounced off the bed to watch his girlfriend's transformation. He stood stunned as he watched his girlfriend alter shape and transform from a female to a male right before his very eyes. When the transformation was complete, he gaped at Lisa, who was now wearing his old body. How would Lisa react to this? Lisa then jumped off the bed and headed straight to the mirror, and Bart quickly moved up behind her. A mere second later, Lisa fainted and Bart was there to ease his old body down to the floor. Bart tried to move Lisa to the bed, but found it too difficult. Just then, Bart started to feel a strangeness envelope him. His last transformation happened while he was sleeping, so he wasn't familiar with the sensation...but he somehow knew he'd be changing. Bart moved in front of the mirror to watch. Bart stood still in amazement! Tara's body shimmered right before his very eyes. The first sign of his new transformation was his breasts, as they began to grow. He took his female hands and cupped them, feeling a pleasure with the growth. In seconds, his breasts went from a handful and perky to huge. Then he felt himself grow slightly taller, and fill out in all the right places. Where Tara's slim curvy body stood seconds before, now stood an amazon-like body. Bart watched his long blond hair climb up his back to his shoulders, and turn darker. His sparkling blue eyes changed shape and turned to a dark brown. The final transformation was his face itself, as he watched his Tara face become Lisa's face. He was now Lisa! Then the other feeling flooded his being, and he gasped at the intensity... The intense feeling flooded his new body with a painful arousal. Much more than he had to deal with when he was in his male body. He recognized it immediately, having to live under a much smaller version of the spell. His Lisa body was under the effects of Tara's spell. Bart knew he'd have to hurry.First, he took advantage of Lisa's much stronger body to pick up his old body and placed Lisa on the bed. As he laid her down, he couldn't help but notice his old erection poking up at him. He quickly threw the sheet over it. How long would Lisa sleep? Bart knew what he had to do...didn't understand why, he just knew. The only one who could possibly get close enough to her would be Lisa. He'd have to hurry before Tara's spell made it impossible to rationalize. Bart threw on Lisa's sports bra first, encasing his new set. They were beautiful, but at the moment, Bart wished he didn't have them. He reached down and put on Lisa's dirty panties, followed by her stinky jogging suit. His arousal was climbing by the second, and he quickly exited the same way Lisa had come in. IX. Tara stretched and yawned, feeling spectacular. She reached down and woke up the pretty brunette, who was sleeping between her legs. "Tina...wake up, honey. You need to leave." The girl woke up, and after realizing what Tara had said, she pouted. Tara loved that look and debated whether or not that was the reason she cast a spell on her in the first place. Of course, Tina was no longer under a spell. It had been lifted several weeks ago. Nonetheless, this cute college girl, who had been a closet lesbian, begged Tara to let her continue seeing her. Tara found Tina adorable and decided to keep her. What was it about this girl that captivated her so much? Tara watched the cute girl slip on her panties and jeans. She was too small to need a bra, and when she put on her tight halter top, it almost rendered her breasts non-existent. Maybe it was Tina's short pageboy haircut? Maybe it was her cute waitress outfit she wore the first night she spotted her? Tara really couldn't pin it down...but she was happy to have her as a pet. Tara's mind then wandered to her new trinket...Lisa. The spell should have her squirming with passion about now. She would call her. Tina interrupted her thoughts to kiss her goodbye. Her lips were soft. Maybe it was her lips? Tara told her that she'd call her next week sometime. The girl's eyes misted up...but such is life. X. Bart couldn't believe how difficult it was to sprint in Lisa's body, and it wasn't because Lisa was out of shape. In fact, Lisa's body was in great shape. It was due to Lisa's tremendous breasts! The sports bra did very little as his new breasts bounced and jiggled with every sprint forward. He concluded that girls paid a big price for having huge breasts. Bart wasn't sure how he knew Tara's address, but like everything else during this ordeal, he just seemed to know. Ten minutes later, Bart stood outside Tara's apartment door. He felt his female vagina lubricating being this close to Tara. He was about to knock loudly, but changed his mind. He felt a sudden fear of upsetting her. Bart tapped on the door. XI. Tara thought maybe Tina had forgotten something when she heard the knock. She yelled that it was open, and in walked Lisa Templeton. "Lisa! What a surprise...how did you find me?" "I...I...need you...please don't make me go. I..." Lisa stammered, not sounding at all like the confident amazon girl she was reputed to be. Tara walked up to the girl. She looked a mess...with the sweat dripping off her body. "What a mess! You stink! How dare you come to me looking like this! Get out of those clothes, now!" Tara loved the fear she saw in Lisa's eyes. The girl was quite a sight as she quickly stripped out of her jogging suit, bra, and panties. The clothes pooled around her feet in a heap. Lisa stood naked awaiting further instructions. "Go in the bathroom now and take a shower...take your time and make sure you clean yourself real good...especially down there," Tara said while pointing to her crotch. Lisa replied in a soft voice, "Okay..." Tara went over to the heap of clothes in the middle of the floor. God, they stunk. As she went to lift them up, she heard a 'ting' hit the floor. Tara then saw the glint of gold. She reached down and picked up the object...it was a ring. Was this Lisa's? Was this intended for her? Tara then slipped the ring on to see how it looked on her, and in the next instant, she felt a strange disorientation. 'Wha...what's happening to me?' Tara's dizziness forced her to the couch. When she looked down at her body, she noticed how her nightgown appeared larger for some reason. She peeked inside her gown. 'My tits! They're shrinking,' she screamed to herself. Although she wasn't wearing a bra at the moment, she figured that she had shrunk a whole cup size. Tara ran over to the mirror, and as she ran, she felt how loose her panties felt. Tara gazed in the mirror for a second before stripping off her gown. Her panties followed, and then she screamed. XII. Bart felt something give in him, and it made him gasp. Something was happening. He heard a scream come from the next room and jumped out of the shower. Bart's gorgeous female form was dripping wet and completely naked, but it didn't stop him from running out to see what happened. Standing before him was Tara...and in the process of changing. Bart quickly realized what was happening. Tara was age regressing. At the moment, she couldn't have been much older than twelve, and getting younger by the minute. Bart looked down to Tara's hand. The ring glowed, and Bart smiled. Tara had taken the bait...just as he somehow knew she would. Good thing, because the second he entered the apartment, he had felt powerless to do anything other than what Tara told him to do. Bart gave Tara space as the girl continued to age regress. When Tara appeared no more than ten, she started crying. Bart went over and hugged the girl against his huge breasts. He wondered when the age regression would stop. Or would it stop? He looked down at Tara, who had now lost all her pubic hair and her breasts were no more than little bumps with nipples. The girl's crying subsided a little as Bart continued hugging her. As he did this, he started to feel a tingling spread throughout his body...he knew the feeling. He was changing again...but to what?!? Bart now gazed at himself in the mirror. His image shimmered, and soon he felt some shrinking. Not too much, but enough to notice that he no longer carried the same vivaciousness as Lisa's body possessed. Bart looked into his eyes, and watched them turn blue. His shoulder-length dark hair grew down past his shoulders and turned blonde. His face turned from Lisa's into Tara's. The transformation was complete. Bart then felt something not quite right and looked down at his breasts. His eyes lit up; "What!" His breasts remained the same size. Tara didn't have breasts this big? Lisa's breasts on Tara's body?!? Why?!? Bart turned to Tara, and saw the girl looking at him in confusion. Then little Tara smiled and yelled, "Mommy"! Bart was a bit surprised, but welcomed the now toddler anyway. He stroked her long blonde hair in a comforting manner, while softly stating, "Everything is going to be alright, Tara." Bart saw the ring on the child's finger and thought that maybe he should break the spell by taking the ring off...but remembered the warning. Bart watched as Tara regressed further. She looked about two. Bart then felt something shift in his own body. What? He had just transformed, why would he be doing it again. His huge breasts seemed to feel heavier. His nipples felt really sensitive. Bart didn't notice a drop of milk form on each nipple, because his attention was drawn to the shifting he felt around his hips and buttocks...they were getting bigger! Bart then felt a strange compulsion to lay down...and then spread his legs, while lifting his knees up. Tara was an infant now, and somehow managed to crawl between his legs. It didn't even dawn on him that an infant wouldn't normally be able to crawl. Bart felt baby Tara poke at the entrance of his female vagina, and then he passed out. XIII. Lisa wasn't sure what woke her. She smiled. A dream? NOT! Lisa reached her right hand down and cupped her balls...then wrapped her male hand around an erection that wouldn't quit! Lisa felt a flush of pleasure, mixed with some fear. God, she was horny! She couldn't help but tug at her new pole, and the sensation was heaven. She had stroked Bart's dick a few times during their relationship, and now that she was doing it to herself, she understood why he didn't ask for it to be done. Lisa had been doing it all wrong before...this way felt much, much better. While Lisa stroked her throbbing erection, she wondered what was going on...but the thought didn't seem to alarm her. Two things happened at the same time...and Lisa turned red with embarrassment. Just as she stroked her dick to a humongous orgasm, which spurted globs of come all over her male chest and face, in walked Tara from the fire escape entrance. Tara witnessed the whole thing! "Well, well, well...I see one of us is enjoying this switch of bodies," commented Bart. "Tara? Bart?" Lisa replied, not realizing she was still holding her dick. Then Lisa noticed Tara's breasts and she exclaimed, "How did you get so huge!" "Yeah...it's me, Bart. Inside Tara's body...and that isn't the only thing inside my body, which will answer why I'm so huge." Lisa saw Bart look closely at the position she was in. He then added, "So, how did you enjoy masturbating with my body?" Lisa blushed and used the bed sheet to wipe herself. While she was doing this, she didn't realize that Bart was beginning to take off his clothes. When Lisa turned her attention back up to Bart, she was startled to see a naked Tara standing before her. "I want you to see this for yourself." "Oh my god!" Lisa gasped. "You're...PREGNANT!" "Correction...You're pregnant. As sexy as Tara's body is, I'm looking forward to getting my old body back...""and I'm sorry I got you knocked up. I'd say you're about three months along." "What do you mean, I'm pregnant? I'm Lisa, not Tara! What do you mean!?!...and how did you get pregnant in the first place?!?" Lisa responded with alarm. Bart stated, "Tara age regressed from a seventeen-year-old to an infant, and in the meantime, I was transformed from your body to Tara's seventeen-year-old body. Then, don't ask me how, little Tara climbed into my new body and then into a womb that formed inside of me. I passed out, so I missed my reverse pregnancy. When I woke, I saw I was three months pregnant." "You mean...Tara's inside of you?!?" "Yep, but in a few minutes, she'll be inside of you. We're going to go through a final transformation. It's only right. You're really female, and that is my body you're wearing. Well, you understand, right?" "NO! I don't think so! Where's my body?" Lisa responded. She didn't like this at all! Then she felt a sudden panic. Whatever was going to happen, she had to stop it. Lisa looked down at the ring. It was the ring...that had to be the answer! When it began to glow, Lisa quickly reached down and yanked it off... "NO!" yelled Bart as he rushed to stop Lisa. Too late. He saw the ring in Lisa's open palm. "Why?" he asked Lisa, with tears forming in his sparkling blue eyes. Then they both watched as Lisa's ring disappeared. Bart looked down at his own ring, and that, too, disappeared. "It's over...we're stuck," stated Bart in a defeated tone. "Wh...what do you mean, stuck?" Asked Lisa, inside of Bart's body. Bart felt his new female hormones flood his system, and he began to cry, "I'm a pregnant Tara...and you're me. I'll be delivering a baby...my baby...a baby girl named Tara. Why did you do this to me?" Lisa stared at Bart...wait! She was Bart! She had to start getting used to that. Lisa went over to hug Tara...yes, how could a girl this lovely be Bart. Impossible. While Lisa hugged the beautiful pregnant Tara, who continued to cry, Lisa felt arousal at the contact of their naked bodies. Lisa looked down at herself and smiled...she was getting hard. Correction...he was getting hard. Lisa led Tara over to the bed and laid her down. God, Tara was very beautiful. Lisa climbed on the bed, opening Tara's legs. The sobbing girl looked up at her confused. Lisa wanted to make sure the pregnant girl was ready, so Lisa used her fingers to play with Tara's pussy. In seconds, Tara was moaning. Lisa now understood why Bart was so impatient sometimes...her erection throbbed with anticipation. Lisa then moved herself up against Tara and felt a tight friction as she entered the girl...what a feeling! The desire to pump in and out of the girl underneath her overwhelmed Lisa, as she quickly grasped the male ritual of fucking a girl. "Tara honey...I...I...love you..." Lisa stammered, while continuing her thrusts. "I...I...never knew...god...never knew it felt this good....this good for you...." responded Tara's voice, cracking with emotion. XIV. Bart woke first. His felt a soreness, and then a feeling of nausea. Morning sickness! Bart slowly got off the bed, with his newly enlarged breasts swaying proudly in front of him. "What's the matter, sweetie?" his old voice asked from the bed. "I...I feel like I have to throw up," replied his soft female voice. "Hurry up...I'm feeling horny," stated Lisa, already getting used to the male role. Bart looked at his old body, noticing the growing erection. He looked down at his new body and smiled. Maybe this won't be too bad after all, he decided...feeling a hint of arousal. The End

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/16034.txt

Andrew Roller

Dungeon of Desire

"God damn, I feel weird," Dick said. He looked down at his penis. "I've never been so hard in my life! I'm practically almost cumming even now. I remember once when my mother spanked me for masturbating. When I was five. I hated it but, ever since, I've had this fantasy of being, well, you know, like Miriam did this morning. But she never did that before. She always kept her distance, just letting me play with others. I only went there twice, actually, not a hundred times like I told you last night." I pulled out my thumb and said, "I figured that." Then I replaced it again. "Well, anyway, I went to two orgies at her place. Just, you know, orgies. Everyone fucking and groping. But this morning, when she put the loop of her crop around the head of my penis..." His voice broke off. Katy reappeared, bearing hot steaming towels on a silver tray. Under her arm, she carried twin silk kimonos, one blue and one pink. Her own kimono was yellow. "Wipe your face and your hands," Katy told Dick and me, setting the tray of hot towels down on the dresser. She had laid the crop there while she undid our shoes, and now she picked it up again. As she watched, Dick and I picked up towels and wiped our faces. The steam felt wonderful. Katy, ever helpful, despite the mean streak I knew she possessed, picked up a towel and bent over and wiped the head of Dick's cock. "Please don't drip pre-cum on our expensive carpet," she said to him. Dick shivered as she touched him. He was enormous, and on the verge of cumming. No girl, I swear, would have parted company with that man's glorious penis. Even at the gates of Hell she'd still accompany him, hoping, watching it move with his every step, bouncing above his tightly balled balls. Katy, still bending, looked with concern at Dick's organ. "You're on a hair-trigger," she told him. "Please don't cum on our carpet. Pre-cum is bad enough, but cum would be a real mess!" "Then... stop... touching... me," Dick breathed. Katy was massaging his pee hole with just the tip of her finger. "Oh, alright, I won't touch you," Katy said. She straightened up. "Control yourself. You can't wear pants in the Japanese tea ceremony, and we have nice woven mats that Sauron would hate to see spermed. Here, put on a robe." She handed him a kimono, and Dick, gallantly, took it and shucked it on.Believe it or not, I wasn't alive then. The poet Ovid wrote his Metamorphoses 2,000 years ago. I wasn't alive even then! So, in my case, I'm not really writing for you. I'm not even writing for your precious children. I'm not even writing for their children, who have yet to be born. I'm writing for those human beings who will be here long after you, I, and America are long gone. (I figure, even then, there will be people who do a search of data using the keyword "fuck".) In the far-flung future, some poor student will probably be tasked with writing a report on "The United States of America." Allow me to assist her with selected readings that she may wish to include in her report: "Colorado Springs - An elementary school principal suspended a first-grader for passing out lemon drops at school, citing the school district's drug policies. The boy's mother asked for an apology, but school officials refused. 'Students reported to the teacher that the boy was handing out something they perceived as a controlled substance,' an administrator told reporters. The principal, who wasn't familiar with the brand of candy, which looks somewhat like tablets, phoned the fire department and an ambulance 'to be on the safe side.'" "Thornton, Colorado - Citing a zero-tolerance policy toward sexual harassment, a principal threatened a fifth-grade girl with suspension after she and a group of girlfriends repeatedly asked a classmate on the playground if he liked any of them. He insisted he did not and notified a teacher." (Playboy, April 1998, pg. 52.) Meanwhile, inspired by the American Revolution, Ho Chi Minh decided to unify his country, Vietnam. Here's what happened to one girl, named Tran Thi Truyen, who tried to help Ho unify Vietnam: Stanley Karnow writes: "She went south at the age of sixteen to serve as a nurse in a field hospital in southern Laos, near the South Vietnamese frontier. Like her comrades, she... carried a rifle, a shovel and a sixty-pound knapsack containing clothes, food and a few personal items. Her unit was driven by truck to the head of the [Ho Chi Minh] trail, and proceeded from there by foot on its month-long journey [south]." Truyen states: "The rainy season had just started, and the route was muddy. Occasional flash floods forced us to cling to trees and shrubs to keep from being washed away. The jungles were infested with leeches and other insects that swarmed all over us. We crossed deep rivers and streams, and there were the mountains, some so high that it was as if we were walking above the clouds. We sometimes needed ladders to scale their steep slopes, or we removed our sandals and climbed in our bare feet. Despite our hardships, the local tribesmen acting as guides tried to scare us with tales of bandits in the area. I was young, and I frightened easily." Karnow writes: "Worse still, Truyen and her unit were constantly harassed by U.S. aircraft as they marched down the trail." Truyen states: "The Americans had denuded the jungles with their bombs, and there was no place to hide. They would light up the area with flares, then drop bombs everywhere. Each time they flew overhead, our commander ordered us to disperse and dig foxholes, but the bombs fell close, and I shook with fear. My heart would throb, and my whole body trembled inside as the bombs exploded. Even after the bombing had stopped, I couldn't focus my eyes, and my head ached for hours." When Truyen reached her destination in the south of Vietnam, she set about enjoying the vast benefits conferred on her people by God's Country, The United States of America: Truyen states: "I was inexperienced, and my first sight and smell of blood and pus so nauseated me that I vomited and couldn't work. Some of the wounded had lost arms or legs. Or their bellies had been ripped open by bomb fragments, and their intestines were spilling out. Others were horribly burned by napalm. Many, who had been lying injured in the jungle for days, were brought in with maggots crawling out of their infected wounds..." (Vietnam, by Stanley Karnow, pgs. 469-471.) Having satisfied the needs of some future scholar, allow me to do quick reviews of the latest issues of Playboy, and Penthouse: Playboy, April 1998, $4.95. Web: http://www.playboy.com Review: For some reason, Playboy tends to run a black centerfold during this time of year. This year is no exception. There's a delicious shot of this month's (black) Playmate of the Month taking off her panties on page 104. The gatefold isn't bad, either. But I just have no interest in black girls, particularly in magazines. (Sometimes I do see black girls in 'real life' who have spectacular bodies.) "The Return of Casual Sex", page 66, looks like it may be a great article. I only skimmed it, but it seemed quite informative. "Guys are Good", page 45, is a welcome article telling how great us guys are. Among other things, guys "are interested in sex. ...We make the first move. Despite the odds, or the politically correct stance that flirting is a form of sexual harassment, we still make sexual advances. ...We ignore discomfort to try sex in the backseats of cars, [and] on jungle gyms." I'm glad to see the articles improving in Playboy. Now all we need in this magazine are some GIRLS! (God forbid they should make Tiffany Taylor a Playmate of the Month. Men everywhere might actually jack off to this magazine.) Penthouse, April 1998, $5.99. Web: http://www.penthousemag.com Review: Chloe, in last month's issue of Club, is this month's Penthouse Pet of the Month! Bob Guccione does his best to gunk her up with makeup and make her look like a whore, but she's so young her youthful innocence still shines through! I don't know what kind of articles were in this month's Penthouse. I was too busy jacking off to it. HEY CREAMBALL by Mal J. Daniel III What's happening girl? Still creaming the boys in the gym? Oooooooooooooo, pouts Creamball. Not now, Creamball I've got to grade exams. Creamball, in her six foot nakedness, squeegees into her raincoat, slithers outside in the February mist; shoots the orange pill in an olive drab London Fog. Her hair matches the ball; her eyes, the raincoat. Shooting foul shots, she often sings. Teenage boys peer through the back yard fence. Mud smudges Creamball's long freckled legs. She works on "post-ups" and "tip-ins". North Carolina is a great basketball state. AND IN THE END... "The digital age... has brought... the spread of... poisonous ideas to every nook of a networked world." - TIME, March 9, 1998, pg. 196. (This from a magazine that, in 1938, named Adolf Hitler its Man of the Year. - h.j.)

Chapter Four

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/9104.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...""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, surveying the stunned reactions around the living room. "I heard what you perverts said." "I'm gonna send these guys home," David said coolly. "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."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. "Cindy's Audience" [THE END]

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/9525.txt

Lostgirl

Tommy Fucks Meg's Brains Out

"Ha! All hail Meg the Conqueror!" Tommy looked up from his recliner. "Hey. There's a plate in the microwave for you." "Gee, you sound tired. I was really hoping for some victory sex," Meg grinned as she climbed Tommy's chair and straddled his legs. As Meg rubbed his shoulders, she gave him a quick kiss. "The data looks great, and just in time for the next proposal. I hate cutting things close, but geez, it feels so good right now!" Tommy sighed inwardly. This was not a good time. Lightning had struck Howard Hall, and the computers at work were a mess. It was that much more frustrating that he had to wait until the FedEx guy showed up tomorrow before he could continue bringing things up. Tommy rested his hands on Meg's thighs and let her give him a lingering kiss. His cock stirred, but Tommy's head was doing the throbbing. "Meg, honey, not tonight. The building got zapped by lightning, and I've spent all day trying to ferret out potential catastrophes. I need to get a fucking industry job; academia is bullshit." Tommy saw Meg open her mouth to answer. Meg had an answer to everything, but she stopped herself. Thank god for that, just let me piss and moan for a while, Tommy thought to himself. Meg looked down at Tommy. Fuck, she's disappointed. Meg leaned down and burrowed her arms between him and the recliner, giving Tommy a vigorous hug. "I'm sorry you had a bad day," she whispered in a small voice. "Yeah, me too." Meg cuddled against Tommy for a moment, but he could sense she was getting restless. "Your dinner is in the microwave, Meg." "Thanks, what is it?" "Enchiladas." "Okay, I'll be back in a sec." Meg pushed herself up and off the chair. She looked a little comical trying to avoid kneeing Tommy or sinking a hand into his gut for support. Tommy watched as she nearly skipped into the kitchen. Damn, it would have been really great tonight... "Ummm... Tommy?" "Yeah?" Tommy winced with the pain of shouting. "Do you want these enchiladas?" Meg looked sheepish as she stood at the entrance to the kitchen, holding the plate of enchiladas out in front of her. "What's wrong with them? I thought you liked enchiladas." "I do, but you put jalapenos in. I'm not fond of jalapenos, and I'll get heartburn." "Fine, give them to me. What will you have?" "Oh, just a peanut butter sandwich or something. Tell you what, when you're finished with those, what do you say to a little back rub upstairs? Make you feel better?" "Meg... If you give me a back rub, I'll fall asleep. You sure you want that?" "The sooner you fall asleep, the sooner you'll feel happy and rested. If I'm too worked up tonight, I'll just visit with B.O.B., okay?" B.O.B. is what Meg calls her vibrator, Battery Operated Boyfriend. Meg had a plan, Meg always had a plan. Tommy used to say that he didn't understand women; Meg's response was, "Just do exactly what we tell you to do, and everything will be fine." What the hell, if she wanted to give Tommy a back rub, he was game. Tommy took the plate that she offered him and finished her dinner. Upstairs, Tommy lowered himself onto the bed with a groan. He buried his face in the pillow. He felt Meg straddle his bare ass and settle herself down before starting the massage. She had changed into a nightgown, and Tommy felt her damp pussy rub a little against him. Coursing blood warmed his groin. "Uh, Meg, I'm not going to get to sleep that way..." "Sorry, sweetie," Meg got up on her knees and leaned over Tommy's back. Meg had small, strong hands. She often used just the heel of her palm to avoid pinching. Tommy felt the woman kneeling over him infuse warmth into his neck and shoulders, and leaning her weight into it as she worked his lower back. Tommy slipped into oblivion. The street light still glimmered in the window when Tommy felt his cock enveloped in a warm, wet place. He rolled his shoulders and felt great. The blood surged, and the familiar ache demanded release. The blanket had been cast aside, and Meg smiled at her lover as she devoured him. Tommy disengaged her from his cock and pulled her up to him. She silently mounted him, her own urgency apparent. Meg lifted and then plunged herself down, again and again. Tommy thrust his own hips up to her, but he needed more. He needed to move his body, to push its limits. Roughly, he rolled Meg over and braced his arms on either side of her shoulders. Meg grabbed his hips and braced her feet, ready to meet his thrusts. This was a tense, muscular fuck. Meg had spread her legs wide to take Tommy in, and he could feel her follow his lead, match his rhythm. Meg was gasping and sweating, her strong little hands kneading his ass. Tommy heard only animal sounds from his own mouth. One hand left a cheek to slip between them, and Meg began rubbing her clit. The pitch of her cries modulated to ever higher keys. Her dissonance begging for a resolution. Tommy simply thrust harder and faster, surrendering to the engorged bull within himself. Their cries mixed in a chaotic crescendo, and Tommy drove himself inside one last time. During his shuddering release, Tommy thought he heard Meg give a high-pitched squeal like the sound of burning hydrogen. It sounded odd, unnatural. "Meg, sweetie, that was great." Tommy rolled over to one side of Meg's hot, damp body. "Uh huh," she gasped. The early morning lights now outlined her features. Tommy leaned on his side as he stroked her hair. "Ugh!... Shit! What is that?" Tommy jumped as his hand touched something warm and slimy on Meg's pillow. He reached for the lamp on the nightstand. The harsh yellowish glare displayed before Tommy a gray, jelly-like mass marked with deep grooves and dimples over a smooth surface, almost like a... like a... "My god, it's a brain!" Tommy jumped back from the sight and fell off the bed. "What's the matter?" Meg leaned over and looked down at Tommy with wonder and confusion. She didn't look right; her gaze conveyed an emptiness. Meg's eyes sparkled with neither shrewdness nor clever impishness. Whatever it was she had before was gone. Tommy's stomach dropped. It couldn't be... "Meg? Did I hurt you? When we were...? Come here, let me look at your head." Meg's head looked fine. Her tangled hair remained, her skull was intact. She didn't seem to be in any pain. It couldn't be *her* brain, Tommy thought. He examined her expression, vacuous. This was not good. "Meg, do you know what that is on your pillow?" Tommy was getting a little frightened. "I don't know." Meg looked around the room indifferently. She looked at Tommy's naked body and down between his legs. "Snickers! I know what that is! That's your willy, I know what to do with that." Meg giggled as she got on her knees. Tommy felt his heart pounding. Meg's brains couldn't have popped out of her head. She's a good actress; this is just a prank, he hoped. "Stop it, Meg, this isn't funny. And I'm going to take you and this... thing to the emergency room. Just in case." Tommy ran down to the kitchen and fetched a small picnic cooler and the cold packs from the freezer. He ran up the stairs two steps at a time to the bedroom. Meg stood naked before the full-length mirror, running her fingers in small circles over her taut nipples. A childlike smile greeted Tommy in the reflection. "This feels good!" "I know it does, sweetie, now let Tommy put your brain in the cooler, and we'll go see a doctor, okay?" Tommy stood over the pillow and gently lifted the mass and laid it in the cool space. "You're going to have to put your clothes on." "I don't want to! This feels good." "Too bad." "You're mean. I hate you." "Fine, you hate me. We're going to the hospital." Tommy managed to get Meg into the car, her brain lying by her feet in the footwell. He had only put on sweatpants, and soon Meg was lying in his lap, her fingers wrapped around his cock through the fleece. "Meg, stop that! I'm trying to drive." "But I want to see it get big. I like when it gets big," Meg sobbed. She balled up her fists and let out a grating wail. "I want to touch it!" "Fine! Fine, go ahead and touch it..." By the time they reached the hospital, Meg had stroked and kissed Tommy's cock like it was a pet hamster, leaving a hot, angry cherry Popsicle in its place. Tommy was afraid to get out of the car. He grasped it in his own hand, hoping to get off quickly there in the parking lot.Meg watched with fascination, leaning in very closely. "Meg, get back, please." Too late. Tommy shot out onto Meg, who cried out as some of the fluid hit her eye. Once again, she crumpled into a sobbing heap. "Shit, shit, shit, shit. Meg, come on. Time to go see the doctor." "My eye hurts!" Tommy wiped Meg's face with the corner of her bathrobe, hoping the nurses wouldn't notice. Meg continued sobbing as they entered the emergency room, her hands covering her face. Her bathrobe slipped open, and Tommy hugged her close while he tried to close it. The triage nurse stood up. "What's the matter?" "My eye hurts!" "Ma'am, take a look at this," Tommy cried as he handed the woman the cooler. The nurse opened the cooler. "Oh, Lord!" The room erupted in shouts, and Tommy and Meg were escorted to an examining area. Meg pulled away whenever someone tried to touch her eye. Tommy tried to tell the attendants in vain that it wasn't her eye that was the problem. A resident rushed from behind the curtain just as the nurses had restrained Meg on the bed. Her robe lay open, and Meg's exposed body heaved and strained against the women's hands. The room was quiet as the medical staff realized there was no blood and the only thing wrong seemed to be redness around one eye. The triage nurse spoke first. "Is this some kind of joke?" "I swear, the stuff in the cooler is hers! It's her brain!" The resident chimed in, "Sir, this woman is perfectly normal. There's no wound--" "But it was right there! After we... and now she's stupid!" "Sir!" The nurses were a Greek chorus of outrage. "Maybe the lady would like to explain for herself?" The resident turned to Meg. "Ma'am, is there anything the matter tonight?" "My eye hurts! I was playing with Snickers and it squirted me!" "Snickers?" Tommy pulled the resident aside and whispered, "It's what she calls my..." "I see. Did this happen before or after she lost her brain? And sir, I don't comment on patients' personal lives, but taking advantage of a mentally retarded woman..." "Listen, she's a scientist! Here's her purse! Here's an old name tag from a conference in Rome, what else can I show you... Shit... she woke me up this morning, and we were having sex... wild animal sex, you know, and then..." "... You fucked her brains out? You really expect me to believe that?" Tommy stared at the resident. That was it. Tommy had fucked Meg's brains out. Defeat mocked him like those forty-five minutes in the Small World ride watching three Peruvian dolls going up and down, singing that damn song in Spanish over and over. The resident looked at Tommy and then at Meg's exposed body. "I suppose we could give her a CT scan to see if everything is okay..." Before Tommy and a technician cajoled Meg onto the apparatus, she happily exchanged her bathrobe for a hospital gown. With a bit of shame, Tommy felt Snickers come to attention as Meg displayed the open back of the gown in a fit of lascivious delight. "You can see my fanny now," she giggled. "Do you want to play again, Tommy? I want Snickers again." "Not now, Meg," replied Tommy as he tried to avoid the gaze of the CT technicians. If only Meg had been that eager about public sex before, Tommy thought. "I like the doctor. Do you think he'd like to play with us?" "I don't doubt that he would," Tommy replied before he considered how sarcasm would be understood in Meg's current state. "I'll ask him." Great, Tommy thought. Just great. The resident walked in; Meg hopped over and gave him a powerful hug. She then turned her backside to the doctor. "Look, you can see my fanny!" "Yes, uh, yes I can." "Doc, let's just get this over with, okay?" With the promise of a chocolate-covered Snickers and a cherry Popsicle from the doctor, Meg allowed herself to be placed on the apparatus. She soon tired of lying absolutely still. Tommy looked at the video screen and grabbed the microphone. "Meg! Stop playing with yourself!" Meg tried to look around, but her head was braced against any movement. She muttered in a sulky voice, "How did he know?" Meg shouted out to nowhere in particular, "Tommy, I don't want Snickers anymore! Snickers is yucky! You hear me? Yucky!" The bench moved far too slow for Tommy, his fingers tapping an irritated staccato on the counter. The resident tried to make conversation. "Um, Mr. Dubois? Perhaps you can tell me why she wants me to give her a cherry Popsicle?" "Do you really want to know?" "I suppose not," stammered the young resident. "I admit this case has been rather unusual. Wait, here come the images... look at that!" "What? What are we looking at?" "Mr. Dubois, from what I can tell, Dr. Kruger here has no cerebral cortex! That must be her brain in the cooler! I'm amazed she can function at all, there must be enough left for her to speak and that's it!" "Oh shit, now what?" "Well, these later images show that she does still have her cerebellum and probably her hippocampus, etc. which all control more basic functions. Dr. Kruger still can experience anger, fear, and...sexual urges. She's no longer able to execute more involved cognitive tasks." "Well, can we put her brain back?" "Oh, I don't think so. I'm not a neurologist, but I doubt that brain you've got there is still viable, and she seems to be functioning adequately..." "You call that adequate?" The resident paused, "Mr. Dubois, if I were in your situation... I don't know, I guess I'd sit back and enjoy it. Meg is quite affectionate." A voice came over the speaker, "Can I get out?" "Of course, Meg. We'll move you back out now..." Tommy tried to let it sink in. Meg was now an airhead, quite literally. Stupid and horny as seventh-grade detention hall. Freed from the scanner, Meg bounced over to him. "I want Snickers!" "I thought you said you didn't like Snickers, that Snickers was yucky." "I didn't say that. You're a liar. I want Snickers." "Meg, not here, when we get home you can have Snickers." Meg ignored Tommy, "Doctor, I want you to play with us, come on!" Meg kneeled in front of Tommy. "See Doctor? You can see my fanny. You want to play with us?" The resident smiled at Meg and then at Tommy. "Yes, Meg's quite affectionate," he chuckled as his hand went to his belt buckle. Tommy tried to sit up, but Meg held his cock with a kung fu grip. "You can't be serious! We're in a hospital! You're supposed to be in the emergency room!" Tommy's head swam as Meg's head bobbed around his cock, the doctor beating the counter tempo into her backside. "Meg, stop! Please!" "What is the matter with you? You love this in the morning." Meg looked up from between Tommy's legs. They were in bed together, the early light streaming in from the east. Tommy sat up quickly, and his head swam until the blood caught up with him. He looked around the room, at Meg, and then at her pillow. On it were only a few fine brown hairs. Tommy felt a sharp pain in his abdomen. FFFFFRRRRRRRPPP. "Oh god, Tommy! You couldn't have waited?... oh christ, and I'm right here. This is so gross... It was those enchiladas, jalapenos are a tool of the devil, you know." "Oh, man, Meg, I'm sorry!" Tommy began laughing in spite of himself, "But that would explain the crazy dream I had, I dreamt I fucked your brains out." "That's a crazy dream? Gee, thanks Tommy." "No, you lost your brains when I fucked you, just popped right out." "Well, I can imagine losing my mind from your lovemaking, but brains popping? ... so what happened?" "You were this complete airhead, a horny airhead. It wasn't so bad..." Meg smacked Tommy with her pillow, "First you fart in my face and now you're dreaming of airheads, this is turning out to be a great morning!" Tommy restrained Meg with an enormous bear hug, "Actually, it sucked. I really wanted your brain back." Tommy gazed down into Meg's most sentimental, Precious Moments face, "You mean that?" "Yes, I do," he said, kissing her nose softly. "If you're in the mood for some wild victory sex, I think I could forgive the farting incident." "I'd like that." Tommy dipped his head and sucked the tender skin behind Meg's ear as she straddled him. "Why am I suddenly in the mood for a cherry Popsicle?"

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/14853.txt

Ann Douglas

Awakenings

"Omigod..." Kathryn gasped breathlessly as she felt another rising crest wash through her body. Her body covered with sweat, she couldn't believe the ecstasy her quaking form had experienced over the last quarter hour. Never in her life had she imagined that another person could make her feel this good. When she had first stepped into Yolanda's bedroom, and then to her bed, she had expected the experience to be similar to that brief moment with Sally. She couldn't have imagined how far beyond that it would quickly reach. Despite her desire to try and return the brief pleasure that Yolanda had given her downstairs, the older girl directed her to just stretch out on the bed and relax. There would be time enough later for her to take a more active part. The room was lit by the light of a dozen candles, spread out across the room. Shadowless light that reflected off the now nude form of the South American woman. As she stood there, Kathryn had a few moments to fully admire the artistry of her friend's body. She would quickly discover that unlike other more conventional works of art, this one could produce more than a passing reaction. Following her friend's instruction, Kathryn had climbed onto the large platform bed, her dress left on the floor next to it. She'd taken hold of the waistband of her plain yellow panties to remove them but was interrupted. "No, I'll do that," Yolanda said as she reached down and stopped her. Joining her friend on the bed, Yolanda straddled her and began to rub her neck. As her fingers worked, she leaned over and began to kiss her way down her back. She started at her neck and slowly traversed the warm flesh with both her fingers and lips, whispering quiet terms of endearment as she went. As she moved, her hand drifted alongside Kathryn's breasts and traced a fine line down them with her nails. When she reached the top edge of Kathryn's bikini briefs, she took hold of the waistband with her teeth and pulled them down, exposing the plump pale cheeks of Kathryn's ass. The woman beneath her lifted herself a few inches off the surface of the bed to allow Yolanda to draw the briefs down and off her legs. "You have a beautiful ass," Yolanda chuckled as she looked down at Kathryn's left cheek. On impulse, she kissed it. A new series of kisses followed as Yolanda covered both cheeks. Her tongue left a shiny trail that began just at the crack between her valley and went down and across to the hairy red mound on the other end. Stretching out her fingers against those mounds, she exposed Kathryn's sex and pressed her tongue deep within it. "Ooooo" Kathryn moaned as she again lifted herself to give greater access. With all the skill she'd gained over the years since she'd discovered other girls at the age of fifteen, Yolanda played her new lover's pussy like a musical instrument. Each motion of her slippery tongue sent little charges through her friend. She savored the taste that coated her tongue, a delight she'd dreamed of since the day she had walked into Moore and Rand and met the women now laid out before her. As much as she wanted this to go on forever, she knew there were still many pleasures she wanted to share with her friend. She spun Kathryn over and turned her own body around so that the redheaded woman would have access to her own cunt. She easily slid the remains of her own underwear to the floor and once more climbed on top. Still quivering from what she knew was just the first of the night's joys, Kathryn stared in fascination at the sight of her friend's naked cunt only a few inches from her mouth. It was beautiful, she thought. The scent of Yolanda's sex was almost overpowering, and to her delight, she learned with her first lick that the taste was all she hoped it would be. Yolanda lowered her pelvis, so that Kathryn could have easier access to her wet cunt. She gave Kathryn free reign, allowing her to set the pace of her actions. Slowly at first, Kathryn licked her lover, exploring her womanhood, savoring her taste. Then she began to quicken the pace until she reached a rhythm that sent little ripples throughout Yolanda's body. As they slowly built in intensity, Yolanda knew they would eventually lead to orgasm. Satisfied that Kathryn was comfortable and well on her way, Yolanda turned her attentions back to the now saturated mound before her own mouth. Parting Kathryn's lips, she quickly went back to work and expertly matched Kathryn's rhythm. Their bodies were in sync as they heaved and sweated in a building passion. The rising waves of ecstasy filling her body told Yolanda that Kathryn was definitely a diamond in the rough. What would she be like with some more practice? As she felt herself cresting, the twenty-seven-year-old pressed her cunt down against Kathryn's face, while simultaneously driving her own tongue as deep inside Kathryn as it would go. Their orgasm was almost simultaneous, and as powerful as any Yolanda had experienced. They laid there wrapped in each other's embrace for a few moments, simply enjoying the warmth of each other's body. Kathryn swore that she could feel the beat of Yolanda's heart as their bodies pressed together as the noise of both their labored breaths filled the room. "Good morning, sweetheart," Yolanda said as she stepped into the bedroom carrying a breakfast tray filled with various foods. "I wasn't sure exactly what you like in the morning, seeing as you seem to live on tea and danish in the office, but I'm sure there's something here that you'll like." Kathryn rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she adjusted to the sunlight filling the room. She couldn't believe it was morning already. The last thing she remembered was that she and Yolanda were making love for the third, or was it fourth time. She remembered the heat of their bodies as she held each other tight, their pussies on fire as they rubbed them against each other until they'd exploded in an exhausting orgasm. After that, she must've collapsed from fatigue. "It all looks marvelous," she said as she took a small morsel from the tray Yolanda had set down on the bed. "I've famished." "I've no doubt that you are," Yolanda said as she sat down on the edge of the bed and kissed Kathryn on the cheek. "I have to say last night was incredible," Kathryn said as she took a sip of tea. "You're not going to get any argument there from me," Yolanda smiled as she took a taste of her coffee. "I do love you," Kathryn said, repeating her statement of the previous night. "I know you do," Yolanda replied as she set the coffee cup down. "And I feel the same way about you." "Why do I have a feeling that there's a 'but' somewhere in that statement," Kathryn said. Yolanda smiled. "But..." she began. "I want you to make sure you're going into this with your eyes wide open." "I am," was Kathryn's simple reply. "Not right now you're not," Yolanda corrected her. "Maybe a month from now you could say that, but not this morning. Right now you're riding the wave of some really great sex, and that's fine. As long as you can recognize that for what it is." "I guess you're right," Kathryn said as she thought about it. "So we just take it a step at a time," Yolanda said as she crawled into the bed next to Kathryn. "And if this all turns out to be is a little lust, well I'm sure we can deal with that too," she added as she kissed Kathryn on the lips. "I think I need a shower," Kathryn abruptly said as she became aware of her body's reaction to the previous night's exertions. "Yes, you do," Yolanda grinned. "I've already had one, but I'd be happy to help wash your back." "Just my back?" Kathryn smiled back. Kathryn didn't make it home for lunch that Sunday afternoon, or dinner for that matter. She showed up for work Tuesday morning in a dress she borrowed from Yolanda. By the end of the week, she had told Eric that it was over between them, and he took it with what she concluded was a sense of relief. He never confirmed her suspicions about him and Tracy, but three months later, the two of them were married. And it was only five months later that Tracy presented Papa Foster with his first grandchild. Angela's rise to the top suffered a fatal setback when her boss suffered a heart attack one cold January afternoon. Thankfully, it wasn't during one of their private consultations.Her replacement, a no-nonsense woman named Joan Miller, quickly had the former assistant reassigned to a position more in tune with her office skills, or lack thereof. It was no real surprise to most that the position of administrative assistant that opened with that reassignment was offered to Kathryn. She had proven time and again what an asset she'd quickly become to the company. What did come as a surprise was both her decision to turn down the job and then resign from the company. She explained in resigning that she'd been offered a position with Southstar Enterprises. Few of her associates had ever heard of the company, but a quick computer check by the curious would find it described by the industry journals as a rapidly expanding computer support company. What few friends she still had at Moore and Ryan wished her luck -- and happiness at least. Kathryn assured them that she was sure she'd found both.

Part Five

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/14455.txt

More Josh and Mom (F/mm Inc)

"Josh . . . what would you think about adding another person to our lovemaking . . . not on a regular basis . . . just once in a while?" Nicole asked. Nicole was Josh's mother. They had been living together as a couple in this college town since Josh started college last fall. Josh's dad, a correspondent, had been killed several years earlier in a Central American jungle while covering a rebel insurgency, and through a series of circumstances in the intervening years, Josh and his mother had become intimate. They closed, but kept their home in another city while Josh was in college, and moved into an apartment together near campus. Nicole was now a young-looking 38-year-old, and Josh was a handsome almost 19-year-old. It was probably his heavy beard, which needed shaving at least once a day, that made him look older. "MMMMmmmmm . . . ." Josh replied, not looking up from the textbook he was reading. The question hadn't caught him by surprise. It was a subject that had come up before, especially now that both Josh and Nicole shared a French literature class where the subject of ménage à trois came up every now and then. Of late, Josh and Nicole fantasized about variations on that theme . . . two women and Josh . . . two guys and Nicole. Finally, what his mother said sank in, and Josh raised his eyes and turned his attention to her. "What's that?" he asked. "Oh . . . hmmm . . . well . . . why not," he said. Then, putting down the book, he smiled at Nicole and said, "So . . . Mom. Our fantasizing is getting the best of you, huh?" Nicole didn't exactly blush. Flushed would be more like it. This going to college was more fun than she thought, even for "an old lady." It's true, she had always been on the conservative side. But in the last year or so, she learned through the psych and literature classes she was taking that people are never really static. They change by the day, week, month and year. Things she held as absolutely true a few years ago were now just memories. Part of her awakening was the life she and Josh lived, and those lit classes that talked about three people romping around in bed. "Well . . ." Nicole mused in answer to Josh's question, "I suppose you're right. It's just that we both enjoy those fantasies," she smiled. Getting more serious, she added, "So, what'd'ya think?" "Actually . . ." Josh said, pausing, "it sounds good to me, too. I've got a friend you might like to meet," Josh said. "We have a Poli-Sci class together. He's a little older, I think. A little taller than me. Kind of skinny . . . like a waif who needs a mom," Josh smiled. "Mmm . . . why don't you invite him over for dinner this weekend," Nicole smiled as a familiar tingle coursed into her misting pussy. The rest of the week, Nicole fussed with things in the kitchen, and things in the bedroom . . . the right food, the right wine, the right dress -- one that comes off easily. When Friday night rolled around, Nicole and Josh were in a heightened state of awareness. Her pussy had been tingling for the last 24 hours. Her breasts had seemed fuller, her nipples more erect and sensitive. And things got worse when she met Brad. He was everything Josh said he was, and more. Josh hadn't said anything about his voice, and his gentle manner. No matter what he said, he seemed to be saying it to her, personally. "This is really great," he said, tipping his wine glass to Nicole. "The salad is fantastic . . . the fish is great, and the wine is good, too." Nicole could hardly wait, and if things went the way they had planned, she wouldn't have to wait much longer. As planned, Nicole poured more wine into Brad's glass only to discover that was the end of the bottle. "Oh, my," she said. "Josh, honey, we're out of wine. Dinner's pretty much over. Will you go get some more . . . something a little sweeter. I'd like for us all to have a little more wine and talk a bit . . . okay with you, Brad?" "Sure," Josh smiled. He immediately excused himself, flashing a little wink at Nicole as he went. Nicole knew she had about a half an hour with Brad. It was her job to be the seductress, to convince Brad to loosen up enough to get his clothes off. This, she knew instinctively, would probably be the easiest part of the evening. Men are so easy, so predictable, she mused quietly in her mind, and she smiled one of those little Mona Lisa smiles that drive men crazy. "Brad," she said, "would you mind giving me a hand? We have this answering machine back here in our bedroom that just doesn't seem to want to work." "Sure," Brad agreed, following Nicole. He couldn't help noticing her beautiful ass and her gorgeous breasts in the tiny dress she wore. He swore that she wore nothing beneath her simple little low-cut dress. But, he tried to keep his mind on the job at hand. After all, this was his friend's main squeeze. And, a damned fine one, too, he sighed. I'd give anything to grope that body, he thought. In the bedroom, Nicole showed him the answering machine and, pressing the talk button. "See . . . nothing," she said. "Er . . . is it plugged in?" Brad asked. "Well, I think so," Nicole said, dropping to her knees. "Let me see." Purposely turning her back to him, she bent over and made a great show of following the machine's cord to where it plugged into the wall behind the bed. She knew her short skirt was inching up over her shapely ass, and, further, she knew that her pussy would be fully exposed to Brad since she wore no panties. "Hmmm," she said, wiggling herself while reaching back along the cord. "I can't seem to tell . . . I can't . . . Brad, can you see anything?" she said, suddenly turning to look up at Brad. And Brad was caught. The sight of that beautiful ass and blonde pussy was too much for him. His cock had sprung to attention like one of those celebrated jumping frogs of Calaveras County. Just as Nicole looked up, Brad had stuffed his hand inside his loose-fitting sweat pants in a valiant, but vain, effort to park his cock somewhere where it wouldn't be seen just in case Nicole happened to look at him. So, there he stood, hand in his pants, wrapped around his throbbing cock, and his dinner host, her pussy flashing out at him like a searchlight in the fog, on her knees directly in front of him. "I . . . uh . . . er . . ." Brad mumbled. "Why, Brad . . . what is it you're doing?" she said, a wicked grin on her face. "Is that cock of yours giving you trouble?" she smiled, her ass still pointed at his bulging cock. "Oh, God . . ." Brad moaned. "I'm sorry . . . I'm . . ." "Shame on you, Brad. You know getting a hard-on in front of your hostess is a no-no." She said it with mock seriousness, an evil smile on her face. "I . . . know . . . and I'm . . ." Brad started to say. Nicole interrupted him. " . . . and you know there is only one thing to do with it," she chuckled. "Ah . . . er . . ." Brad stumbled, faltering like an animal caught in a trap. Nicole repeated herself. "Brad, you know there is only one thing left to do, don't you?" "What?" he said weakly, like a child about to cry. "Well, first," she said, "take that thing out of your pants." Brad's eyebrows shot up. His eyes widened. "Go ahead . . . take it out," Nicole commanded. Brad released his cock from his pants. Nicole gasped. It wasn't that much different, actually. Just longer and thinner than Josh's. My God, she thought, he'll choke me with that. Nicole wheeled and knelt in front of Brad. She began stroking Brad's cock gently, kissing up and down the shaft. Her stroking caused several drops of pre-cum to bead up on the head of Brad's cock. She slipped her mouth over his cock and savored his juice. Brad nearly collapsed from the strength of her sucking action, and from having such a gorgeous woman slurping his manhood. Brad's knees buckled and, Nicole, sensing his "delicate" condition, stopped long enough to invite Brad to join her on the bed. In seconds, Brad was out of his pants, and beside Nicole. "Help me with this dress," she said, lifting it over her head. Brad nearly fainted again. She was beautiful. She had great legs, and greater hips that curved sharply into a small, female waist which rose up to a well-formed torso with a pair of smallish, but sweet breasts with raspberry-like nipples . . . nipples that stuck out far enough to lock a lip over. Man's nipples, Brad thought as he took first one, and then the other in his mouth. He gently sucked each nipple while his free hand slid down her front.He was pleased to feel her little tummy, the one most women have just below their navel, that sweet little feminine pooch that they try so hard to get rid of. The one that looks just roomy enough to accommodate the head of a man's cock. The one that makes them look like a woman. Brad massaged her tiny little tummy, pretending it was a mountain that descended down, down, down into a tender valley, and finally, into her sweet moist stream of pussy juice. Meanwhile, Nicole was trying to pace things. The no-wine thing was just a trick. Josh had stashed an extra bottle of wine. Any minute now, Josh would be entering the bedroom bottle in hand, pretending he had just returned from the store. Nicole needed to have things far enough along, but not too far. This, she knew, was the most "iffy" part of the plan. What if Brad bolted? What if he simply couldn't or wouldn't go ahead with things. Nicole forced herself to stop worrying. Josh, she had learned in their last year together, missed his calling. He should have been a salesman. He could sell tulips to Dutchmen if he wanted. Besides, Nicole reasoned, Brad couldn't be all that stuffy or worried. He had to know Josh would be back soon. Nicole was enjoying Brad's exploring fingers and his hot mouth on her hard nipples, when she saw a movement out of the corner of her eye. It was the bedroom door opening. "Hey guys, I'm back with . . ." and then, a pause, followed by, "What the . . . ." Brad jumped as though he had just backed onto a branding iron. Nicole, whose free arm was around Brad's neck, held on a little tighter. Can't let this fish get away, she thought. "Oh, Josh, honey... you're back," Nicole smiled, and, hanging onto Brad, she added, "and just in time, too. Brad and I started without you... was that okay?" Josh and Nicole were looking each other in the eye while carrying on this slightly pre-planned conversation, but both of them saw the look of extreme consternation on Brad's face, followed by his look of pure puzzlement at Nicole's "starting early" comment. Both Josh and Nicole knew Brad was on the verge of pure apoplexy. Both knew Brad was thinking, "have I missed something... started without you... me... her... him...???" His face showed considerable relief -- but still a fair amount of puzzlement-- when Josh said, "Naw... that's okay. In fact, I thought you two might start without me... mind if I join you?" Josh said, already half out of his clothes. Nicole looked at Brad, a question mark in her eyes, as if to say, is that okay with you? Brad gulped, and shrugged his shoulders. By now, Josh was out of his clothes, his muscular body moving around the bedroom, lighting candles and turning on the stereo. When he turned to join Brad and Nicole, his cock was already hard. It bobbed up and down as he climbed into bed beside Nicole. Poor Brad, Josh thought. He's lost his hard-on. Must be quite a surprise. Josh resolved to try to make things go better for Brad from this moment on. "Well," Josh said. "I have something of an idea. First, I think Brad, here, is feeling a little nervous... that is if I'm reading his expression right... right Brad?" "Welllllll..." "My thoughts exactly," Josh said, cutting Brad off with a smile, hoping it would ease the situation a little for Brad. "In simple words, Brad," Josh said, laying his hand atop Brad's, which was still resting on Nicole's sweet pussy, "Nicole and I would like you to join us for some fun this evening. Nothing that's going to be 'forever,' if you know what I mean. Just some good, old-fashioned rolling in the sack fucking and sucking. Wha'd'ya'say?" Brad readopted one of his puzzled looks. More a look of "am I hearing what I'm hearing?" "Well... uuhhhhh..." "Fine," Josh smiled at Brad and then at Nicole. "It's settled, then," he said, pouring a large glass of wine, which he handed to Nicole. As Nicole drank, Josh said, "This will take the edge off, I think." Brad, and then Josh drank, emptying the glass. Josh refilled it and they passed it around twice more, refilled it and did it again. Little by little, the sharp edge of a few minutes earlier dissolved into a lovely blur with the soft, beautiful body of Nicole in the middle of two young men whose cocks were beginning to respond to that ancient message coded in their DNA. As Josh and Brad stroked and petted Nicole's lovely pussy and breasts, letting the glow of the candles and wine take them on their separate journeys, Josh sighed, "...know what sounds great right about now...?" and without waiting, he answered his own question... "a shower. Y'know... all of us... now." "Mmmmm," Nicole murmured her assent. "Boy!" Brad said. Josh got up and headed for the bathroom, Brad and Josh each carrying a candle. Nicole walked between them, but she didn't carry a candle. Instead, she took each boy by his straining cock and led the way. Suddenly, she was aware of the total power she wielded. Two young cocks were ready to burst to get into her pussy. She never realized it could be like this. While Josh got the shower going, Nicole puttered around with some of her girl things on the countertop while Brad ran his hand between Nicole's lovely crack, letting his fingers slip in and out of her gushing pussy as he stood behind her, watching her laying things out. Josh announced the shower was ready and when he turned to the other two, the first thing he saw was a dainty lady's razor directly below his nose. "Here," Nicole said, indicating the razor. "This is what I want from both of you... I want you both to shave my pussy." Brad nearly lost it when he heard this. His cock began pulsing visibly, and his breathing became labored. "Power," Nicole thought. "I love it." Josh smiled, took the razor, and ushered Nicole and Brad into the steaming spray of water. Once in the shower, Nicole took over. "Okay, boys," she said... "first, I want to be washed all over my body." No sooner had she said it than Josh and Brad found bars of soap and began lathering Nicole's supple body. Josh lathered her back and down her ass, and into the crack of her ass, where he found her sweet, puckering asshole. Slowly, he began massaging it with little circular motions, occasionally letting his fingers slip and dip into the little indentation between her sphincter muscle. Little by little, the sphincter was giving up its control of this hidden place. As Josh continued working this fertile territory, Brad lathered Nicole's breasts, making mini ski slopes of her perfectly formed breasts. Water trickled down her breasts and dribbled off her nipples, which were like firm little clits with hard-ons. Brad massaged her breasts, and little by little, he worked his way down her tummy into that sweetest of all places in the universe... her slippery cunt. Her lips were swollen and her clit, bloated and engorged, poked out of her pussy with its mini-hard-on. Her smaller pussy lips strained to escape the confines of her large pussy lips. Brad folded his hand and slipped it between Nicole's legs, cupping her pussy mound loosely in his fingers. Her clit slipped between two of his fingers, and, for the second time, Brad's cock tingled nigh unto orgasm. "Oh, God," Brad prayed, 'not now. Let me save this load for this magnificent pussy." God was good to Brad. The feeling passed. Brad's upper hand slipped back and forth over Nicole's breasts, alternately tweaking her nipples while his other hand squeezed her pussy lips together until he could feel her swollen clitty pressing though her puffy lips. He stroked up and down, kind of like jacking off a tiny penis, while at the same time, Josh's fingers swirled and twirled around Nicole's relaxing asshole. Slowly, ever so slowly, he let his middle finger find virgin territory in the center of that hot, pink-brown spot. Up to this point, Nicole had been keeping up with the action. But as the fingers tweaked, pinched, slipped, slithered, and probed, it all began to blur into an expanding feeling somewhere deep in her stomach. Each nipple radiated like an antenna sending messages into that distant space between her legs. At the same time, her pussy lips swelled again, and then again. Her clit grew to the size of a marble, and threatened to pop like a ripe grape. "Mmmmmmmm... ooohhhh... boys... boys... work... work my pussy, Brad...work it... stroke it... pinch it... Ahhhh... Josh, Baby... move your finger slow... yeah... like... that... Mmmph... uunnggghhhh... pinch... pinch those nipples... PINCH... OH... SHOVE IT IN MY ASS... AAHHHH... SPANK MY PUSSY... SPANK!!! AH-AH-AH-AH," Nicole grunted. She thrust her pussy forward, and then, just as fast, slid her ass backward to pick up the sensation of Josh's slim finger slipping into her tingling asshole. Nicole began panting and groaning. "I'm cummmiiiiinnngggg... Oh, stroke me, boys... sttrrooookkke mmmmeeee. Oh... Ah... Ugh-ugh-ugh!" Nicole stiffened, and if it hadn't been for Josh and Brad, she would have fallen. The boys steadied her as mini-orgasms racked her body, and her pussy clutched and vibrated. As Josh slowly slid his finger out of his mother's ass, little muscular convulsions gripped his finger. Josh retrieved a small plastic step stool he had placed just outside the shower. "Sit down, dear," he said, hoping he had stopped himself before Brad caught on. Nicole sat with her back to the wall, her legs spread wide. "Okay, boys," she said, producing the razor again. "Go to work. I want my pussy to look like a clean little nine-year-old girl's when you two get done." Brad and Josh went straight to work. Without working it out verbally, they began shaving her blond pussy, passing the razor back and forth.One would hold or stretch a pussy lip while the one with the better angle would shave. One of them would hold her clit out of the way while the other shaved, and then they would pass the clit to the other while he shaved. Back and forth went the clit and the razor. And, back and forth went Nicole until, again, she lost track. All she felt was her clit being tugged and pulled and bounced back and forth while handful after handful of slick, slippery lather was applied and whisked away by a Teflon-coated razor blade. "Ohhh... you sweet boys," she sang, lolling her head back and forth against the shower wall, "if you're not careful... if... you're... Ah... Ah... AH-AH-AH... OH GOD!!!" she panted. "My pussy is coming... it's coming... it's coming." Again, the boys steadied Nicole, who had a tendency to slide off her stool and slip down the drain with the last of the soap from her pussy. After resting in the hot spray, a revived Nicole said, "Okay, you sweet things. It's your turn." She soaped each boy's chest, slippery bubbles running down their stomachs and onto their rigid cocks. She stroked both cocks simultaneously, bringing both boys to the brink. Sensing their climax, she stopped and rinsed both cocks in the steaming spray. Then, bending over, she backed into Brad's cock. Reaching between her legs, she guided his cock to the opening of her drenched pussy. She began moving his cock up and down in her wet slit, and at the same time, she leaned down and took Josh in her mouth and began sucking so hard Josh thought she might pull his balls up through his cock. The friction on Brad's cock slipping between her pussy lips, and her mouth pulling Josh inside-out brought both boys to the brink again. As they faced each other, Brad in Nicole's pussy, and Josh in her mouth, Josh got an idea. He leaned forward and whispered a question to Brad. "When we got out of here, let's both eat her -- at the same time," Josh said. Another puzzled look crossed Brad's face. "Well," Josh explained, "one of us will eat her pussy, and the other will tongue her asshole. Which do you want?" Without hesitation, Brad said, "Pussy." "Great," Josh replied. "I've been trying to figure out how to get at that sweet place for a long time. She won't be able to resist with both of us working on her. It'll be the ultimate." When they got out of the shower, Nicole inspected her pussy in a hand-held mirror. "Beautiful," she said. "You boys did a beautiful job. Look... don't you think it looks like a little schoolgirl's pussy, now?" she asked. Brad nodded his head. Josh, on the other hand, squeezed his ass-cheek muscles repeatedly, causing his cock to bob up and down, as if answering, "Yes." Nicole laughed. "C'mon, boys," she chuckled. "A little more wine is in order, and then..." "And then we have a surprise for you," Josh said. Nicole cast a glance at Josh and raised her eyebrows. "Well, then, let's hurry," she smiled. The trio passed the wine, emptying the bottle, and finding new relaxation in the deep red liquid. As Nicole sipped the last of it, Josh told her to pick a side -- right or left -- that she felt comfortable laying on. Nicole chose her right side, and lay down. Each boy snuggled into position, Brad in front, Josh in back, and went to work. Brad raised her top leg and draped it over his shoulder, while nuzzling up to her pussy. He took her clit into his mouth and began to suckle like a baby. Josh slid into position, spreading his mother's ass cheeks using his chin, nose and mouth as a wedge to hold open her beautiful ass. He let a draft of hot breath flow from his mouth across his mother's squeaky clean asshole. Already, he could feel Brad's hot breath flowing across the tiny space that separated their mouths from pussy and ass. Gently, Josh extended his tongue, flattening it so that it spread wide and covered his mother's puckering ass. "Ahhhhh... Oohhh... good God... what... are... you... two... doing???" She said between catching breaths. Neither boy stopped to reply. Both continued, Brad pulling Nicole's swollen clit into his mouth, rolling it under his tongue, and every now and then, slipping his tongue into the sunken and dripping place just behind her clit, while Josh swirled his tongue round and round, letting it occasionally fall into that dimpled space between the margins of Nicole's sweet rosebud. "MMMMmmmmmm... OOOOhhhhhhh..." Nicole sang from above them. She was almost delirious. She rocked her hips forward and backward, never sure which way to rock hardest or first or last. The tongue rippling her clit and dipping into her pot of sweet nectar was enough to bring her off, but the tongue slipping between her back-crack was too much. The surface of Josh's tongue created just the right amount of friction as it trailed around and back and forth, leaving Nicole spinning, unable to know from second to second whether to relax or tighten her sphincter muscle. At one instant, it wanted to open, and in the next, it wanted to close. Just as Nicole began thinking how good it would feel with something in both her holes, Brad reached up and inserted two fingers into her sopping pussy. Almost immediately, the muscles in Nicole's pussy began clutching at Brad's fingers. A fraction of a second later, one of Josh's fingers slid into place and began pressing the relaxed sphincter. Gently, gently, millimeter by millimeter, his finger slipped into that secret, hollow spot. Nicole could tell it wasn't in deep. Just deep enough to light a fire those millions of nerve endings in her anus. Pussy -- anus -- pussy -- anus. Back and forth. She couldn't keep up anymore, and then, while losing track of which was where, of which felt best, that old feeling began settling down into her belly, descending on down into her womb and bowels, finally ending flaring into a full-fledged forest fire in her clit and anus. They were beyond her control, now. They both began pulsing, vibrating, and twitching inside and out, tugging at Brad and Josh's fingers, pulling them deeper and deeper inside the warm, sweet, feminine cavities of her open and willing body. Nicole felt herself enter a new state. No longer was she aware of separate tongues, separate fingers, separate sensations. All sensations melded together. Her pussy/ass was an entity in itself, receiving sensations and stimulus, pulsing and quivering with its own heartbeat, her pussy dripping a salty/sweet liquid that was slipperier than baby oil, while her licked asshole felt like it was no longer a part of her body. It simply was, a living thing, a giant nerve ending craving to be entered, massaged, penetrated. "Oh... give it to me... lick me... lick me... OHGODOHGODOHGODOHGOD... I'm coming... coming... AhOhAhOh... NOWNOWNOWNOW..." Nicole's body stiffened while she pinched her nipples, squeezing them almost painfully flat. Nicole was still recovering from this giant orgasm when Brad leaned over. This time, it was his turn to whisper in Josh's ear. When he pulled away, Josh smiled and nodded. With Nicole still convulsing, Brad laid on his back on the bed. Josh helped Nicole mount Brad's longish, thinnish cock. Brad, like Nicole, spread his legs, leaving room for Josh to nudge his way into the space. On cue, Brad pulled out until the head of his cock just exited Nicole's swollen pussy. Josh placed the head of his cock against the opening of Nicole's throbbing, virginal-looking shaved pussy lips. Then, reaching down, Josh grasped both his and Brad's cock and placed both purple cockheads at the entrance of Nicole's quivering, puffy pussy. Simultaneously, Josh and Brad began thrusting in tiny little pushing motions until one, and then both their fuckrods entered Nicole's slippery tunnel of love. It didn't take long for Josh and Brad to set up a rhythmic motion in which Josh thrust in while Brad pulled out, and vice-versa. Both cock-owners were timid at first, but in a few moments, the sensation of one slippery cock riding against the veins and ridges of the other swept them away. With a little practice, they discovered that if one pulled while the other thrust just right, both cocks would change places -- the cock on the bottom, like jumping a rail, would loop over the cock on the top, and the one on the top would loop below, making the twin cock-pistons pumping Nicole's pussy switch positions on each stroke. The presence of two cocks in Nicole's pussy meant she labored under a two-cock stretch within her beautiful hairless pussy. Before long, Nicole's hips bucked to and fro, trying with all her might to slam her blood-engorged pussy-clit into the pubic bone below her, while on the up-thrust trying to feel the length of the upper cock slipping over the opening of her recently licked anus. If she rolled her hips just right, she could work her clit on the forward stroke, and her puckering asshole on the backstroke. A low moan escaped her throat as she ground her clit and anus one way and then another. "Don't stop... don't stop... oh oh oh oh god-god-god... fuck my pussy... fuck it... FUCK IT... SLAM 'EM IN... SPLIT ME... FFFUUUCCCKKK MMMEEEE," Nicole sobbed, as wave after wave of tummy convulsions rolled through her pelvis, ending in deep contractions that squeezed both cocks. Nicole's stiff, rocking body relaxed slowly as Brad and Josh withdrew. Everyone flopped back on the bed, with Brad and Josh landing shoulder to shoulder at the foot. Nicole lay with her shoulder toward the head of the bed. It took ten minutes for everyone's breathing and pulse to come back to normal. When Nicole could move again, she raised her head and peered through the candlelight.There, at the foot of the bed lay two handsome young men, both with stiff hard-ons pointing straight at the ceiling. "Okay," Nicole said at last. "Up to now, it's been me, me, me. I've had more orgasms than I can count. Now, it's your turn." "Oh?" Josh said. "And how's that?" "Both of you stay just as you are. I'll be right back." Both boys heard a drawer open, then close. Nicole climbed back on the bed and positioned herself between the two prone boys. They listened as the sound of rubber gloves snapped in place, followed by the sound of a plastic cap being removed. Little squirt-squirt sounds followed. "Raise your legs," Nicole commanded. Both boys bent their knees and drew up their legs. One by one, Nicole applied KY Jelly to each boy's anus. Then, a rubber-covered finger from each hand began probing each boy's anus. Little by little, she pushed the fingers of each hand into the little brown openings, deeper and deeper until she felt the walnut shape she was searching for. It was their prostate, and Nicole knew that she now controlled the semen production plants of two of the hardest cocks in town. At her will, she could make both cocks erupt in nearly unending streams of slippery, white jiz. The right amount of pressure, circular motions, and finger wagging and both cocks would fire salvo after salvo of steaming white cum. "Now... you sweet dears. This is what you must do... Josh, reach over and take Brad's cock in your hand... Brad, do the same to Josh." Both boys went dead still. Nicole, sensing the dilemma they faced, did what any woman in her position would do. She took control. Gently, ever so gently, she let her two inserted fingers swipe across the little rock-hard glands deep in each boy's ass. "Mmmmm... aaahhhhh..." they moaned. "Take each other's cocks... do it now," she commanded, probing again, turning up the cum level in each cock. Obediently, both boys crossed arms and grasped the cock of the other. "Wonderful," Nicole cooed. "If you could see this from my position. It's beautiful... two beautiful boys, two beautiful cocks. Now, stroke. But stroke each other slowly. You can't cum until I say you can." Both boys, still embarrassed, remained motionless. Again, Nicole tweaked their prostate glands, giving each boy the mysterious urge to pee and to cum at the same instant. She massaged gently, pressing now and then. "Stroke, boys. Stroke." Obedience took over. Slowly, as instructed, both boys began moving their hands up and down the shaft of the other. "Now, play with each other... twirl your hands around each other's cockhead. Gather that stuff dripping from your cocks... smear it all over the heads. That's right... that's right. Now, make them slick." Josh and Brad began losing their nervousness. Much to their horror and delight, this was beginning to feel good. Josh stroked Brad's cock the way he did his, and he noticed that while Brad wasn't stroking his cock the way he did, it still felt great. Josh used a tight grip around the head of the cock with short, choppy strokes, while Brad used a long stroke that started at the base of Josh's cock and rode all the way to the head, and then back down where it started over again. After several minutes of this, both boys began moving their hips, trying to get more action out of their jack-off partner, and to get Nicole's finger deeper into their asses where it could probe and squeeze their growing gland. But Nicole, sensing her position of power would withdraw and lighten her probing finger in one asshole or the other when she sensed that one boy's orgasm was ahead of the other. By applying or releasing pressure she could bring first one, and then the other to the brink, his hips bucking upward, making his cock fly through the fingers of his partner. Another three minutes of this, and both boys were churning, flailing and stroking each other's cocks with abandon. "C'mon, Brad... give it to me. Let your load fly... let... it... let... it cuuummmm." Nicole decreased her stroking, probing action in Brad's ass, while increasing it in Josh's rectum. "Not... yet... Josh... I... want... you... you... you... to... cummmmm." Little by little, Nicole refined her movements until she was finally satisfied that she had both boys at the same level of readiness. And then, using little circling motions, round and round the walnut that lay beneath her fingers, she swiped and pushed and pressed as the two cocks grew until they looked like double-masts on a sailing ship. Two sacks full of testicles began drawing up tighter and tighter until their balls looked like two hard boiled eggs pressing up against the base of both cocks. And then it started. Little tinges of muscle convulsions in the sphincter muscles of each boy. Sympathetic convulsions made both cocks twitch between strokes. The heads of both cocks grew dark purply-blood red. Suddenly, both boys went stiff as Nicole skittered her fingers across both glands. Then, back. Then across. Then, deep circling motions, pressing harder and harder. Both boys strained upward, thrusting their cocks up with as much power as they had. Both stopped stroking and squeezed the cock in their hand and then released as two giant geysers of cum spewed straight up in crossing arcs that came back down and landed as cum-rain on their chests and on Nicole's shoulders and arms. A second geyser followed, and finally, the guttural sounds of two men releasing pressure from their glands, the absolute source of a man's cum manufacturing plant. Nicole backed off the pressure she had applied on their glands, letting her fingers lightly tickle the throbbing walnuts. Each trip across brought yet another convulsion and expulsion of cum from the twin cocks in front of her. Drained at last, the three worn-out figures fell into a heap in the middle of the bed. Nicole pulled the bed spread up and flopped it over everyone. In minutes, deep slumber claimed all three, but not before Nicole began wondering what would be next in her suddenly very interesting life.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/9765.txt

Dark One

Hired Help

"Can you explain why we are going to a wedding?" she asked. "On a Sunday night?" "It's not exactly a wedding, actually," he said. "It is a renewal of marriage vows. It is their anniversary, and it coincidentally happens to fall on a Sunday this year." This answer did not satisfy her, but she decided to change tactics. "Who is getting married? Or getting renewed, anyway?" Richard led her over to the ring of keys in her room and unlocked her maid's outfit. "You have actually already met the man. Henry and his wife Vicki are going to be the guests of honor," he said as he unzipped her black latex French maid's costume. Richard next unlocked her shoes and detached the garters from her rubber stockings. "I bet you already have something picked out for me to wear," she said. "That's one way to put it," he said as he unrolled her rubber stockings down her legs. "In fact, you are to be one of the bridesmaids." She was confused by that. "I don't understand," she said. Richard had taken everything off of her except for her chastity belt and rubber corset. He unlocked the chastity belt and then started to loosen her rubber corset. "Don't worry about it. Just take a bath, make yourself pretty, and by the time you're done, I'll have your outfit ready. She followed his directions, and sure enough, by the time that she was done, Richard was waiting there, in her bedroom. He was wearing a skintight rendition of a tuxedo done in shiny leather, complete with leather tie. Her outfit was laid out on the bed. First, Richard picked up a pair of purple thigh-high boots. They looked to be made of shiny vinyl, and the heels were at least six inches high. They closed by lacing up the front. Jennifer sat down on the bed so that he could put them on her legs. It took him fifteen minutes to lace them up her legs. "How do they feel?" he said. She stood up and looked at herself in the mirror. "Actually," she said, taking an experimental step in them, "They seem fine." In fact, they felt like they gave her more support than her stiletto shoes. It was a bit less difficult to walk in these, she decided. There was only one other piece to the outfit. It looked like a frilly purple bridesmaid dress, done in shiny purple vinyl. It had a high neck and long sleeves, but there were two small holes in the front that were about where her nipples should be. As she stepped into it, she saw that in the back it had the lacings of a built-in corset. Sure enough, her nipples protruded through the holes in the dress. As Richard slowly tightened the corset, she could feel her nipples starting to protrude through their holes. "Oh, god!" she said as he tugged his last time. "How tight is that?" she asked. "Just a touch above twenty inches, when fully closed," he said. "It is fully closed now." Jennifer looked at herself in the mirror now. Purple vinyl extended from her neck to the floor, with long sleeves. Her breasts almost seemed to be bursting out of the outfit through the two small holes in the front. The corset gave her an ever so tiny waist, which was emphasized by the flare of the full skirt below. "Let's go," he said, offering his arm for her. She took ahold of it, and accompanied him out of her bedroom. No chastity belt, she noted mentally. Maybe tonight... There was a limousine waiting out front. "Don't worry about the driver seeing you," Richard said. "He's from Fantasy Supreme." "If you say so," she said. Richard guided her into the huge back seat first, then sat down beside her. As he shut the door behind them, the limousine started to slowly move. Jennifer slowly moved her hand over to Richard's leather-covered crotch. "Can we play on the way there?" she asked. Richard shook his head, but did not jerk her hand away. "He's less than fifteen minutes away. I would really rather not." Jennifer sighed against the tightness of the corset that was built into her vinyl dress. "All right," she said, but she did not remove her hand. She left it there, moving it ever so slightly, for the entire trip. Her efforts were rewarded as she felt his penis slowly hardening on the way there. By the time that they stopped, it was as rock hard as she had ever felt it. Richard seemed to be moving a bit uncomfortably as he exited the limo. He offered his hand to assist her out of the car. Jennifer saw that they were at yet another mansion. The sun had nearly fallen, and a cool breeze that swept by put goosebumps on her exposed nipples. Richard escorted her up the path that led to the front door. He knocked on the door, and it opened almost immediately. "Come in," said a woman dressed in a satin French maid's outfit. It was very similar to the one that she had worn, Jennifer noticed. She wore five and a half inch stiletto heels and fishnet stockings. The skirt of her outfit dropped lower than Jennifer's, but was just as wide. She guessed that there was a corset underneath it. The outfit did not go up her neck, but stopped a bit below that. Richard helped her through the doorway. Jennifer immediately saw that there was a second woman dressed almost identically to the first. However, this woman was nearly five inches taller in height. "You can follow me," this one said in a lower, huskier voice. They followed this satin French maid through the hallway and gestured for them to go through an open double doorway. The maid turned and walked back where she came from. "Henry and Vicki have two very talented servants," Richard whispered to her as they walked forward. "The one that first greeted us is Becky. The one that led us here is Arnold." "Arnold?!" she said with an excited whisper. "That was a man?!" "Indeed," he said. "In fact, if I'm not mistaken, Becky and Arnold were married themselves a couple of months ago." Jennifer's brain did not know how to handle this information. She was so confused that it took her a few seconds to start looking around the large ballroom that they were now in. Three large crystal chandeliers illuminated the long rectangular hall. Jennifer and Richard had entered at one end of the hall. There was a long red carpet ahead of them, which ended at a small raised platform.Soft music was playing in the hall. Jennifer could see that there were two tuxedo-clad men standing near the end of the aisle on one side, and two similarly dressed women on the other. "It's already started," he said. "I'll show you to your place. Remember, stand still and be quiet. For me," he said, looking into her eyes. "For you," she repeated, looking back. She kept looking at his beautiful eyes and supported herself against him as they traveled down the aisle. He stopped, and she turned to see where they had ended up. To her right, there were two women that she did not recognize. The one furthest away was no older than she was, while the nearer one was perhaps in her mid-thirties. Both were dressed as she was, in the purple vinyl bridesmaid dresses, complete with holes for the nipples and built-in corsets. From their height, she guessed that they were wearing similar high heels. They both looked at her, but were standing still and at attention. In front of her, there was a metal pole built into the floor. It came up about two feet, and then ended in a rectangular metal block. Two dildos protruded upward from the block, just inches apart, and there was something on the block between the dildos. It looked like both phalluses had been well lubricated. Jennifer gave him a questioning, somewhat alarmed look. "Just like the red dress," he whispered. "You can do it." This *is* just his kind of kinky thing to do, isn't it! Jennifer thought. He'd *better* appreciate this! Jennifer lifted up her dress and turned around. She moved so that her crotch was right over the two phalluses. Carefully, she sat down, letting both of them find an orifice. "All the way," she heard him whisper. Finally, she was all the way down on the two dildos. They felt cool, and slid inside of her more easily than she could have believed possible. The feel of the dildos was starting to make her hot. When she was done, the flesh between her pussy and anus was now touching the cold rectangle of metal. She was surprised to hear the low hum of a mechanical device. To her surprise, she felt the pole underneath her start to slowly move up. Jennifer shot him a panicked look, but Richard smiled reassuringly at her. The dildos could not go any further into her, because the metal plate acted like a very narrow seat for her. She kept going higher and higher and higher... It stopped only when her legs were fully extended out underneath her. If she unbent her knees at all, she felt her weight start to concentrate uncomfortably in that tiny region of flesh that touched the metal. As she was already standing on her tiptoes in these six-plus-inch stiletto heels, there was no way that she could get the dildos out of her. I'm stuck here, she thought to herself. Richard, still smiling, took a place across from her, some fifteen feet away. By the time that this was done, the next procession had come down the aisle. But this was not a couple. Instead, it was just one person in a bridesmaid dress like her own, being escorted by Becky the French maid. But the nipples poking through the holes in the bridesmaid dress looked fake, somehow. The corset looked to be very tight around the waist, but the final figure was not that dramatic. And the face... It had enough stubble that she knew that it had to be a man. And... it looked like one of the men that Richard had over that Friday night... John! There were two poles with dildos left on her right side that were not occupied. Becky did not lead him over to the poles. Instead, she unscrewed the front dildo from its socket and replaced it with something resembling a penis sheath that would stick out horizontally instead of vertically. After she had done this, he picked up his dress and turned around. Jennifer could see that he wore matching purple patent boots that had heels at least as high as her own, if not higher. John rolled his eyes at Jennifer briefly, sighed, and slowly sat down on the rear dildo. When he was done, Becky reached under his dress and guided his penis into the sheath that now was a part of the device. Just as had happened to her, the pole started to raise up. As this was happening, Becky turned and walked back up the aisle. Jennifer noticed that there was no one standing across the aisle from him. Let's see... Jennifer tried to remember the names of the people here while she shifted and tried to find a more comfortable way to stand. The first man was Collin, the young man that she had remembered. He stood across from the woman that was Jennifer's age. Then there was Ben across from the woman in her thirties. Then Richard of course, looking at her as she fidgeted. She felt herself actually blush at the attention. On my other side is John, the bridesmaid. That leaves... she wasn't able to remember the last one. A couple walked down the aisle. The name Adam came to mind. A woman in her late twenties held his arm and traveled down the aisle with him. She was dressed as the rest of the bridesmaids. She seemed to be walking unsteadily in her footwear. Adam guided her to the last empty double dildo pole, and helped her get on it. That one too raised up, and made her stand up at attention as Adam took up a place across from her. The music changed to a wedding march. Jennifer looked towards the entrance, and saw a pair that was very slowly traveling down the aisle. Jennifer looked the other way, and saw that Arnold, the very convincing transvestite French maid, was standing on the platform waiting for them. A low hum started in the dildo in her vagina. Jennifer looked over to Richard. He only put his finger to his lips and shook his head. The vibrations grew in intensity as the couple made its way down the aisle. She thought that she heard vibrations coming from both sides of her, as well. Jennifer looked at the woman on her left, and saw that she was clenching her teeth. John on her other side was fidgeting and twisting back and forth, setting his vinyl skirt swaying. Jennifer was having a very hard time staying silent and keeping still when the bride and groom walked by. The groom was wearing a metal-studded leather collar, shiny black leather gloves, and a pair of black leather shorts. There was a hole in his shorts, and his erect penis was standing out at attention, with a slight upward angle. In his hands, he held a chain that connected to a leather collar around the bride's neck. The bride caught Jennifer's attention. There was a very filmy white veil over her, but it was so translucent that Jennifer could make everything out underneath it. The bride was wearing a white leather harness around her head that had a built-in leather blindfold and a gag. Below that was a white leather posture collar that kept her from slouching her neck. She wore a brassiere, of sorts. It consisted of two strips of leather about three inches wide that tightly circled the base of each breast. They were held in place with straps around her back and her shoulders. Each nipple was pushed against a small metal ring that was held tightly in place by four chains that connected to the leather breast wrap. At her waist, she wore what was either a very wide white leather belt, or a very narrow white leather corset. It looked to be cinched very tightly, and there was a noticeable bulge of flesh both above and below it. At both sides of the belt, there were wide white leather arm cuffs attached. The bride's wrists were firmly restrained there by the cuffs. From the front, the bride looked to be wearing a white leather hobble skirt that extended from waist to floor. But as she passed, Jennifer saw that almost all of the back was cut away. There were buckling straps in back at the waist, at the knees, and at the ankles. But other than that, her entire backside below the waist was open for viewing. Jennifer also saw that the bride was wearing white patent shoes with over six-inch-tall heels. Her backless leather skirt was buckled so tightly that she could only step three or four inches at a time. So that's why she was taking so long, Jennifer thought. Jennifer also noticed a strap that went through the bride's butt cheeks, that did not seem to be a part of the skirt. Jennifer concluded that the poor girl was probably wearing a chastity belt under all that, as well. The two of them slowly marched by as quickly as the bride could inch along. Behind the bride, tending the bride's long veil, was the French maid Becky, in her black satin uniform and black stilettos. She now had a cord around her throat that had a key on it. The trio finally stopped in front of the platform. The vibrations in her groin were becoming unbearable. Just as Jennifer shifted forward enough to get the vibrations away from her clitoris, the one in her anus started to quiver ever so slightly. "Dearly belusted," the pastor/French maid said. The voice was either that of a high-pitched man or a low-pitched woman. "We are gathered here today for a joyous event. We are here to witness the joining and coupling of this man and woman. Look, all, and witness the bonds of attraction that join the two of them. Bonds of attraction.. oh god! Jennifer had to stifle a moan and clench her teeth. She looked over and saw that Richard was grinning at her like a fiend. "Witness her bridal finery! Is she not an object of lust? And witness his fine show of manhood! Does he not lust for her?" The male French maid looked down at the two of them. "Let us recite our vows, and take them to heart. You, Henry, do you take this woman..." "Yes! Anytime! Anyplace! As often as possible!" the groom blurted out. "I'm not done yet," said the pastor/maid. The four assembled men chuckled.None of the girls (or John) chuckled at all. Jennifer assumed that they were trying to keep the fires in their groin at bay. "As I was saying," continued the pastor, in his satin maid's outfit, stiletto heels, and fishnets. "Do you, Henry, take this woman, Vicki, to be your wife and slave?" "I do!" "And do you promise to use her as you will, to express your lust and your deepest fantasies with her, and bring her pleasure like none seen before on earth?" "I do!" "Vicki, I would also ask you to recite your vows, but you cannot right now. So I will recite them for you." "I, Vicki, promise to be a willing and sexy companion for Henry. I will dress to keep him as horny as humanly possible. I promise to couple with him as frequently and as frantically as the limits of my flesh allow. And I promise to bring him pleasure like none seen on this earth before! Grunt once if you agree." There was a single grunt from the bride. Jennifer was frantically clutching at her dress with her hands, trying to stay under control. She was sure that her juices were dripping down the pole and were now probably pooling on the floor. "Is there a key for the bride?" the pastor/maid Arnold asked. "There is," said the French maid Becky. She took it off of her neck and handed it to Henry. "You may disrobe the bride," the pastor/maid instructed. Henry threw back her veil and quickly unbuckled her hobble skirt. As it fell to the floor, Jennifer saw that she had guessed right. The bride wore a white leather chastity belt under the backless hobble skirt. Eagerly, he put the key into the heart-shaped lock in the front of the belt and removed it from her. "You may now take the bride," the pastor/maid Arnold instructed. "And the assembled masses can now voice their pleasure at the event." Almost in unison, the five purple-dressed women and one man let out groans and moans of pleasure. Henry had already lowered his bride to the floor and was now frantically thrusting away inside of her. "Remember, guests!" said the maid/pastor. "No fornicating on the grounds except for the bride and groom. If you truly must, please leave. Of course, you are all welcome to witness the blessed event for as long as you like." Jennifer saw the older gentleman Ben go over to his companion and bodily lift her off of the dildoes. The woman staggered as Ben eagerly led her out the door. All the others left except for Richard and the male bridesmaid John. He was grunting and groaning in his predicament just as desperately as Jennifer was. There's no one to let him down, Jennifer thought. She looked over to Richard, who, Jennifer thought, should have taken her off of her stand and hauled her out to the car. But instead, he just stood there and smiled as the two vibrating phalluses brought her made her scream as she reached an orgasm. Maybe that was a bad idea, Jennifer thought as the tightness of the corset affected her after her screaming orgasm and made her head swim. She felt herself starting to fall... And felt Richard's strong arms catch her bent torso. He straightened her out, then lifted her off of her double dildo restraint. Jennifer did not actually pass out from the experience, but felt lightheaded. She staggered along in the heels that were impossible to walk in now. She caught a glimpse of the bride and groom still going strong as they left. The two maids were nowhere to be seen as Richard pulled her into the limousine and closed the door to the vehicle. The lightheaded feeling was almost gone after just a minute of riding. "So," she said to Richard. "We're no longer on the grounds. Is fornicating allowed now?" He smiled at that as he unzipped the fly on his leather tuxedo pants. "Driver, take the scenic route back," he said. Richard threw up her dress, and even with her soaking wet crotch, she was a bit startled by the force he used to push her down on the seat and thrust his rock-hard penis inside of her. She floated higher and higher as he had his way with her. Jennifer felt detached from her body, almost like she was an observer. Her chest labored against the built-in corset, and her legs waved their purple spike-heeled boots in the air. Two orgasms swept through her in quick succession. She thought that she felt him ejaculate, but she was so lost in her own experiences that she just wasn't sure. Richard paused afterwards to use his lips and tongue on her exposed nipples. She felt an erotic chill pass through her body as he sucked and played with the two tender points of flesh. He now dove below her dress, and she felt him probe her drenched pussy. With lips and tongue... he only toyed with her. For minutes and minutes, he brought her ever so slowly up to another moment of ecstasy. Jennifer heaved and flailed in her corset. But Richard was patient... his tongue stayed just millimeters away from that spot that she knew would give her release. Suddenly, he was thrusting inside of her again. The intensity of the long-overdue climax, with the tightness around her chest, was just too much for her. Jennifer rolled her head and started to lose consciousness yet again. Maybe I'll get to do this with Richard sometime *without* a corset, Jennifer thought as the last wisps of consciousness fled.

15

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/12008.txt

Ms. Christine Stevenson

Educating Darren

"You mustn't get too excited yet, or you will spoil everything. But don't worry, I will let you come before you leave here, I promise," she said, realizing that he was far too aroused to have taken everything she had just said in. "If you lie down on your back over there," she pointed to the spot, "I will play with it some more. I know you want some more, don't you?" "Yes, Madam," was his response, and she positively glowed in triumph. "Oh, how sweet, you remembered the correct form of address. I knew you could do it if you tried. Of course, the right motivation helps too, doesn't it?" "Yes, Madam." She gave a little chuckle, as if she were enjoying her own private joke, and then clicked her fingers and pointed to the floor again. He did as he was told because he was desperate for her to continue. He wanted her touch, and his only chance of that was to do as she said. Nothing else seemed to matter at this point. As soon as he was in position, he heard her click her fingers again, and Alise appeared carrying what appeared to be a large plastic box, which she placed on the ground behind his head. He then felt his head being lifted and placed in position inside the box. He tried to struggle, but it was too late; he heard the clicking of catches as a perspex sheet encased his neck. He found himself looking up at what appeared to be the underside of a toilet seat. The lid was still down, and it was barely an inch or two from his nose. He had been permanently attached to this receptacle. As she lifted the lid, Caroline's next words confirmed his worst fears, "I'm afraid watching you go has made me want to go too!"

Part Eight

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11578.txt

Rev. Jefe of the Church of Hector

Challenge For Dominance

"The stars, they look all too near..." sighed Drucilla, lying on her back atop a dining table while staring at the ceiling. "You're quoting poor musicians again, darling, not to mention the fact that there's a ceiling in the way...." Spike turned his chair and wheeled toward the door. Of course, he could walk, but no need to drop his charade and lose the only real bit of attention Dru had paid him lately. He looked down the walkway of their latest haven, awaiting Angel's return with his dinner. Sighing again, he rolled backwards from the door, resigned to the fact that Angel was out having his fun while he (due to his "injury") was confined to quarters with a centuries-old mental case...not that he didn't love her dearly, it was just that...well...after quite a few decades of her nonsensical ramblings and such, she did tend to grate on the nerves. But love was love...especially when it meant the difference between winning or losing this little grudge match with Angel. Thoughts raced through Spike's head. "How can I show him up? How do I win without losing a potent ally against the Slayer? What can I do to both humiliate and win his respect, as well as impress Drucilla?" And with that, it came to him: Show his prowess on Angel, in front of Dru, and prove himself the "pack-alpha" of sorts once and for all... "Honey, I'm ho-ome!" Angel boomed from the doorway, a dripping burlap sack clutched in his hands. In an instant, Dru had vacated her position of the past hours atop the table and rushed to his arms, causing the sack to fall to the floor forgotten as the mad vampiress covered Angel's face with soft kisses. "Yes, yes, welcome home indeed, what'd you bring me for dinner Angelus?" CHAPTER: Part Two Spike lunged from his chair, crashing shoulder first into the door, knocking Angel back a few steps. As Spike and Angel both fought to regain their balance, Drucilla dropped the now bloodless child and sat with rapt attention as her two companions began to square off. Spike's wiry frame seemed outmatched by the other, more muscular, vampire. Despite his advantage in size, Angel was handicapped by the element of surprise and sheer ferocity Spike used to press his own advantage. Angel continued to stumble backward, falling on his back and feeling somewhat vulnerable in his state of undress. Spike continued to advance on him, an almost feral glint in his eye. "Is that fear I smell, Angelus? Have you gone so long without any challenges to that swollen ego of yours that a puny threat like me actually scares you? Pathetic. If you thought that shagging that bloody cunt of a Slayer would earn my respect..." He spit on the ground, continuing his approach with his fists balled, "You, Mr. Vampire-Come-Lately, spent far too much time enjoying the fact that you had a soul. You, Angelus, lack the balls to properly lead a boy-scout troop, let alone a coterie of blood-drinking nocturnal marauders. You, my boy, need to be taught a lesson..." CHAPTER: Part Three "Wha...what's going on?" Angel croaked as consciousness slowly returned. His left eye had swollen shut, and the caked blood around his other eye was making actual sight a bit of a problem. What he could make out was Drucilla sitting on Spike's lap, in a chair at the end of a table he was obviously bound to. "Oh, good morning sleepy head," Spike said, grinning a toothy smile he'd cultivated for just such an occasion.He rose, ushering Dru from his lap where he dipped her low into a deep kiss, making sure to remain in Angel's line of sight. "You missed all the fun. There was a knock-down drag-out brawl right here, and guess what we discovered? That you, that would be Angelus the Bitch, couldn't fight your way out of a wet paper bag with a map and a flashlight!" "Fuck you, Spike!" Angel spat, and thus reopening a wound on his lip which began to dribble onto the table. "Ah, cursing, the crutch of the intellectually handicapped...but now that you mention it, that is essentially what I have planned for you..." Spike said, beginning a slow circle around the table. He came to a stop behind Angel and clapped twice. In an instant, Drucilla had produced a small wooden box marked "Dru's Toy Chest" in childish scrawl, and laid out an array of her "toys" on the table in front of Angel's face. Although it was more than hazy, he was sure he could make out an assortment of blades and whips. "Ah, this will do nicely, my lovely assistant," Spike said, holding a well-crafted scourge up to the light. The piece was nice indeed, with each tail in the flog made of braided leather and knots of barbed wire fastened to each end. Spike slowly traced circles into his victim's back, the steel on the ends dragging but not breaking skin. SMACK! The blow landed across the small of Angel's back, tearing into the flesh. Angel's feeble attempt at crying out went unheard as Spike returned to tracing his circles, this time trailing blood from new wounds across the bare skin. SMACK! Again the scourge fell, this time across the shoulders, marring the flesh with another jagged set of gashes. Repeatedly it fell, drawing blood until Angel's back resembled something akin to ground beef. Blood pooled between his shoulders, and Dru strolled over to run her fingers through the puddle before gesturing for Spike to continue. Dropping the whip, Spike placed his hand in the pool Dru had played in mere seconds before and traced a line from the pool to the top of Angel's anal cleft. He allowed the blood to slowly trickle down the crack, then he repeated the process. Again and again, until blood seemed to drip continuously from Angel's ass. Once there was enough blood there, Spike began the torture in earnest. He rubbed the warm liquid into Angel's puckered anus, slowly inserting a finger, then two. Angel inhaled sharply at the invasion. He felt his lining tear as Spike slid in three, then all four fingers, stretching the hole far beyond human or undead capacity. Fresh blood from torn flesh lubricated his hand as Spike balled his fist and rammed it in fully, leaving it in place and allowing the sphincter to close over his wrist. Once he felt Angel relax, he tore his hand away sharply, and grinned as he watched the hole attempt to find its original shape to no avail. Spike took his bloodied hand and backhanded Angel across the cheek with a wet "Splat!" "Have I impressed upon you the importance of leaders, being me, and followers, meaning you, yet?" Spike asked, shaking the excess blood from his hand. Part Four Angel's swollen jaw made a reply nearly impossible, but for all intents and purposes, the whimper he emitted showed he was close to submission. Spike made his way around the table, a wicked grin on his face. He stopped behind his victim and crouched to observe the damage done. What he saw surprised and intrigued him, not so much the actual damage he had caused but its apparent effect on Angel. "So, little Angelus isn't so little, is he? Was it the flogging or the fisting that made you get so hard?" Spike rose and stepped back to contemplate the situation. He reached between Angel's legs and massaged the sack, then proceeded to squeeze quite hard. "You get off on pain, Angel?" Spike chuckled a bit. "Dru, darling, bring me the toybox. I have an idea...." Angel made little effort to struggle; whether from fatigue or 'other reasons' was unclear. Spike reached into the box and withdrew a set of alligator clips attached to wires, which he connected to the flesh of Angel's testicles. He then fit the Pleasure-Sheath harness over Angel's cock and clipped it around his waist. Another set of clips connected to a pair of metal terminals on the sheath, allowing the battery in the box to power the vibrating/sucking action of the device. However, the same switch operated the clips attached to Angel's flesh as well, sending a current into his balls while the machine pleasured him. Spike's face lit up with a maniacal grin as he flipped the switch. He walked around and placed his face near his defeated adversary. "You feel that, Angelus? It hurts so good, doesn't it? You like being my toy, DON'T YOU?!?! I'd best see you nodding, and soon, boy..." Angel began nodding, as quickly as his bloodied state would allow. Spike continued, "Are you enjoying this? Is Angel gonna cum soon?" Angel's face began to contort, this time not only in pain, but in pleasure as well. Spike walked to the operating box and twisted the dial, increasing the power to both the sheath and the clips. When he returned to his position, Angel's eyes had rolled back as he neared orgasm. Then, with a shudder, it was over. Angel filled the sheath with his seed and collapsed on the table. Spike removed the apparatus and began cleaning up. He unbound Angel, rolling him onto his back and pouring the contents of the sheath down his throat as one last show of dominance. Once the mess was suitably clean, Spike crooked his arm, which Dru took, and they retired to their bedroom.

Part One

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/12482.txt

J. B. Mast

CD's Magical Love Cream

"You'll see how well it works when you get home. If your wives don't drag you into the bedroom, I'll write any of you a check for a thousand dollars. You'll see." And, of course, they did see. No one asked him to write the check. The following weekend, they reported their wives had ravished them after the football game and wouldn't stop until they'd licked their faces. They had "fucked their brains out," as one of them put it. That was proof enough for CD's friends to agree to fill containers with sperm for CD to make up enough for all of them to enjoy. Each week they masturbated daily and collected their spunk. When they delivered a full individual container, CD exchanged it for a vial of the cream. It became a bonding connection for CD and his friends. Soon, they began masturbating together, watching xxx videos during half times of the TV sporting events at CD's house. They usually sat around in a circle, nude, jacking off together, sharing tales about the sexual conquests that had come to them since they began using his sex cream. Unbeknownst to his pals, CD didn't use all his own sperm for the cream. He enjoyed eating it too much to sacrifice all of it. He mixed some of his own together with about a quarter of what his friends were producing and used it for evening cocktails, tossing back shot glassfuls as ordinary men do whiskey. After experiencing personally the amazing results CD's cream produced, one of the men in the group-- a man named Milton Houser-- suggested they sell CD's new product. "Considering what it's done for all of us, we'll be millionaires! What say, CD?" Houser was a talented marketing man. He suggested calling their new product "Love Skin Cream," with a price tag of $75 per vial. CD would be in charge of manufacturing. Dave Penser and Howard Bullock took on the responsibility for sales. And Houser would handle the marketing. His plan was to use the power of e-commerce, to establish a web site and sell it on over the net. Houser began by setting up trade-out cross selling ad banners, hot links and flash screens on compatible sites to attract customers. He wrote the copy for the home page and found a freelance web site designer to take care of the art direction and getting on a server and up on the net. CD came up with the idea for the logo on the package. Penser arranged all the details for encrypted bank card sales transactions over the net. They all agreed that once the orders started coming in they'd get together every weekend to put labels on the containers and wrap them for shipping. Orders began pouring in from all over the world. Word of mouth recommendations from satisfied customers increased the business incrementally. They grossed $150,000 in the first 30 days. Ninety percent of the customers reordered more. CD and his friends were each masturbating four to six times a day to keep up with the orders. Soon they simply could not keep up with their burgeoning enterprise. They had a meeting to resolve the crisis and Houser suggested getting together with the Jack 'n Jill club in Philadelphia. It was an ensemble of about 20 couples and singles who met weekly to masturbate for each other's pleasure. The president of the club, a tall thin man named Rick ("No last names required in our club," he explained) made an attractive deal. He agreed to have an attendant collect sperm from the jack off shooters in the club for a cash payment of $5.00 per load. He said the money would be used for paying the rent in the hotel and some snacks and drinks for his Jack 'N Jill meetings. CD's group agreed to a similar arrangement with an Asian gambling house on the South side of Philly, though this source of supply cost them more per man. The house manager would inform every man in the room that he could collect $10 for masturbating in the back room and leaving his deposit in a vial. This set up was more expensive than the Jack 'n Jill's club but they went along with it because they were desperate for additional raw materials. To make absolutely sure they had a continuing supply of sperm, they ran ads in the college newspaper proclaiming they were conducting a scientific study of male sexual potency and promising to pay volunteers $7.50 for a load of their sperm. They set up a small clinic near the university where students came in as often as they could muster a hardon. Ultimately, this proved to be the most reliable source of supply. Penser posed as a research physician and no one questioned his credentials.

Part Two

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/17426.txt

Joy Paine

Tortured Teacher

"OK," Gertie cried. "Here's Betty. That makes the whole club, except Susie. When are you going to let us in on the big secret?" The other women murmured their support for Gertie's impatience. "Or do we have to wait for Susie, too?" one of them complained. "No," said Sheila. "Susie is the one girl we won't have to wait for. I happen to know that she can't make it today, and I happen to know why. And that 'why' is the reason that I called you all together on a day that isn't our regular bridge day." She smiled mysteriously. The babble of voices rose again, to be silenced by Sheila's outstretched hands. "You see," she went on, "Susie is working today. Susie," she smiled, "is a whore." The voices rose in a crescendo of disbelief. "Not goody-goody Susie" and "You're kidding!" and other similar phrases were heard above the general tumult. Once again Sheila managed to quiet them. "Hold on, let me finish. Not only is she a whore, but she's working in an anything-goes House that caters not only -- now get this, girls -- not only to men, but also to women customers. And I propose that we drop in on her en masse, for a surprise visit." Again the tumult of uncontrolled discussion and disbelief. Again, Sheila made herself heard. "Hold it!" she shouted. "Let's not cackle like a flock of chickens. I'll be glad to answer -- or at least to discuss -- any of your questions, but let's have a little order. Betty, what were you saying?" "What do you mean by 'anything goes'?" Betty asked. "OK, it's a slight exaggeration, but it's the term that was used by her -- ah -- pimp. No, don't ask me how I got to know him -- I have a right to some secrets, after all. But the rules are that we can do anything at all, as long as it doesn't leave any permanent marks on her body, or inflict any lasting injury. Jack -- let's call him that -- assures me that they have special whips and paddles, for instance, that give various parts of the body a wonderful rosy glow, and make the victim squirm and squeal most prettily, but leave no marks at all that are visible an hour or so after they are used. "And then they have thumbscrews that pinch the nipples, and bigger clamps that squeeze the whole boobs, hard enough to be very painful, but not hard enough to injure the girl. And a special electric-shock thing -- something like a cattle-prod -- that plugs right into the pussy, batteries and all, so that all that is visible is the wire that sticks out, with a switch on the end of it." Sheila noticed that some of the women were starting to drool by now, while some of them were unconsciously rubbing their breasts in self-stimulation. "And of course there are all sorts of things you can do with needles," she went on. "Another cute little item is the dancing slippers. They have electric switches built into them, connected up so that any time she keeps either foot on the floor more than a second -- or whenever both feet touch the floor at the same time -- they set off that electric-shock tampon that she's wearing. And, to keep her mind on business, we can make her wear special clothes all the time -- like a bra-and-panty set lined in the strategic areas with dozens of pin points that give her a little reminder every time she moves. "And in between times, she'll lick our pussies, of course." "But how do they get her to put up with things like that?" "That's one question I can't answer," Sheila admitted. "Maybe she has latent masochistic tendencies, maybe she's being blackmailed. Or maybe she does it strictly for the money. One thing for sure, she doesn't come cheap." "With treatment like that, I'd be surprised if she was able to come at all," one of the girls chuckled. "If we do decide to drop in on her," Sheila went on when the groans had subsided, "It'll cost us $50 each. That's a total of $350 from the seven of us, for one afternoon's work. A pretty good income for her, but only $50 each for us. Just imagine -- $50 to get our little Susie to be dummy all afternoon, while we make one grand slam after another." "And she goes down on every trick," Gertie giggled. That broke them up for a while.

tortures, t#

Chapter 1 (was Troubled Teacher)

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/8098.txt

Rass Senip

Tim, the Teenage MC

"Shit," Joey said as we compared schedules the next morning while walking to his first class. "Well, at least we have chemistry together," I sighed, marking an X next to it on both our schedules. "I told you we should have declared the same major," I teased. "Well, at least my major has something to do with what we're here for," Joey countered. "True, but when you shot down my idea of going for a general degree so we wouldn't have to take any of the harder classes, I figured I better go for something I'm interested in. Both my mom and my dad have a BS in business administration, and even if they didn't really earn them, I figured it should come easier to me since they seem to like it." "Heh. In their case, BS means a Bull Shit degree. Shit, Tim. I wonder if we'll really get a degree when we get that far, or do what they did and just... You know... Take the easy way." "I don't know... I mean, I want to say we'll do it the right way, but from the way our high school days were going..." "Yeah... I know what you mean," Joey said as he opened the door for us to the building with his first class. Since we were now officially in the second week of classes, both Joey and I took a moment before he went into the classroom to activate his cloaking personality. The class had already been in session for a good twenty minutes, so we didn't give the cloak a quick test like we had originally planned. I sat outside the classroom in case something went wrong, feeling Joey's nervousness concerning both entering the class a week late and using his cloak in front of all those people for the first time. Things went as well as could be expected, although Joey had to do a few last-minute tweaking of his cloak personality when it kept smiling his "Hey, beautiful" smile at the teacher whenever she looked his way. When the class ended, Joey and I followed the instructor to her office to get Joey copies of the previous week's handouts. She was the same instructor I had for my English Composition class, and she was telling Joey about how I had nearly jumped out of my seat when she had asked me my name last Tuesday. Joey dropped his cloak as we were walking to the next class, and I noted he seemed more at ease than before meeting Mrs. Rickman. He made the comment that at least we could still study together for her class, but then realized since it was a composition class, there wouldn't really be any tests to study for, just papers to write. We lucked out again when his College Algebra teacher was also the same as mine, and we gave each other five realizing we would at least be sharing the math work load. After I sensed him relaxing in his seat, I left to try out my own cloaking personality in the cafeteria, then almost missed him leaving with the teacher to get the stuff he had missed in that class. Once we were on my way to my history class, I kept waiting for Joey to lower his cloak, but he never did. When we arrived at my class, he gave me a friendly pat on the back and said, "Later, dude," then left to go explore on his own for a while. I nearly forgot to activate my cloaking personality, then more or less sat back in my own mind to watch everything that went on, ready to grab control back in case I had to correct something. After only a few very minor changes, I found my cloaked personality was handling everything perfectly, and started to pay less attention to what it was doing. I hadn't actually used my cloaking personality in class before, and I realized that I had been stupid for not doing so. It actually was kind of cool letting it do all the work, but by the time the class was over, I was getting pretty tired of not having anything to do myself. Joey wasn't outside the class when it ended, but he showed up almost right afterwards sweating like a nun in labor. (If you were a nun, and you were in labor... Well, I'd be sweatin' it pretty gosh darn hard. Wouldn't you?) "What happened?" my cover self said for me. "Nothin'," he said grinning wildly. "Just lost track of time talking to this chick. Ready to go to chemistry?" After already having endured four classes in that packed room, I didn't really think about the emotional turmoil pressing in on me as the room filled up around us. But it was still a comfort feeling Joey's presence beside me, especially while I didn't have the usual distraction of having to pay attention in class. I ended up thinking about how well Joey was handling everything his first day. I had been a wreck by this point, but Joey had even talked to a girl, apparently even he having been the one to initiate the conversation. We reluctantly parted company again after class since I usually ate lunch with Nick, and Joey had another class to go to. Nick and I weren't even looking for Alicia or the Asian guy who we had seen her with, but sure enough, we noticed him looking around the room with his tray in his hands, his neck showing the marks of Alicia's sucking mouth in four different places. When he gave up looking for her, he joined a group of friends, joining in the conversation while keeping an eye out for you know who. Nick and I decided not to bother him with our tales, and after joking about what kind of underwear he probably had lost to Alicia, we left to go watch one of the pornos Joey had brought. "Shit," Nick said as the two women started going at it. "This is good stuff." "Haven't you ever seen a porno before?" I asked. "Sorta," he said, his attention fixed on the two women working each other over. "Sorta?" "Uhm, well, I haven't actually seen an X-rated movie like this before, but there was this one R-rated movie where you see a guy and a girl fucking. Shit. I wish I was the one sucking that breast..." "Yeah, her tits are good sucking tits. See how Lisa can get part of the areola to bulge into her mouth while she sucks? I love those kind." "You sound like you've tried them," he said matter-of-fact like. I was tempted to tell him I had, but didn't since it wasn't part of my cover personality's story. I had already bragged about too many things that my cover personality didn't include in its memories. I hadn't lied about any of it, just didn't want to make myself look like a bull shitter, especially if someone scanned my cover-self's thoughts. "I have... in my dreams, you know?" I said, nudging him with my elbow. "Hell yeah. I'll probably have a great big wet one tonight," he joked. "Hey Nick. Can I ask you a really personal question?" I asked. "How personal?" he said, looking up and losing the grin on his face from my serious look. "Personal. As personal as you probably can get," I said in a hushed voice. He glanced at the screen, then back at me for a moment, then frowned and said, "I don't know... Tell me your question, then maybe I'll answer it and maybe I won't." "All right," I said, seeing his uneasiness peeking through the forced look of confidence on his face. "Ever since I came here and Alicia gave me that blowjob, I've been fighting the urge to jerk off at night.I know Greg and several of the other guys do it when they get the chance alone, but I don't feel it's right to do it alone. I'm not asking you to do it with me or anything, just... Well, do you do it? If you don't... How do you resist? Especially after Alicia. "Shit," he said, his eyes back on the screen yet not watching it. He was struggling on whether to answer my question truthfully or not, finding it hard to admit to the truth even when he felt he could trust me with it. When he reached a decision, he took the remote and paused the tape before looking at me with a serious look. "If you ever tell anyone..." "The only person I'd ever tell is Joe. We don't keep secrets, you know?" "All right. If you trust him that well, I guess it's... okay. One of the first things Lenny told me when we first started being roommates was that he jerked off every night, and if I wanted to, it would be just between him, me and my hand. So, to answer your question, I don't resist. Lenny usually starts jerking himself off, then I guess I do it too because he's doing it. I'm not gay though." "I didn't think you were," I said, surprised at his mentioning it. "Thanks, Nick. Wasn't exactly what I was hoping you'd say, but it's cool with me. Maybe if Joe feels like it, we'll start jerking off again. I don't know..." "Do you talk about stuff like that with him a lot?" Nick asked. "Sometimes. I mean, we've done practically everything together. He's like my brother, you know?" "But you don't... Jerk each other off, do you?" he asked cautiously. "Look, are you going to watch the flick? Or ask me about what I tell and do with my best friend?" "Well, since you mentioned it," he said after a moment's hesitation. "There is just one other thing, then we can go back to the movie. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to..." I sighed, then said "I guess I started this. Go ahead and ask it." He opened his mouth, then shut it, unsure if he should ask something so personal or not. He straightened his posture, then tried looking me in the eye, but then lost his nerve again. "Stop stalling and ask, you wimp!" I said, giving him a friendly shove. "All right! Do you two talk about sex at night?" "Huh?" I asked, having prepared to answer a much more revealing question. "Uhm, sometimes. Well, not really. Why? Do you?" "A friend and I used to on the phone, but we got burnt out of it and stopped. I just wondered, that's all," he said before turning back and starting the movie up again. I sat there, realizing how innocent Nick was to the ways of the world. Even though he was two years older than I was, I felt that I was more mature in many ways. Nick probably still got hard just looking at a Playboy's cover, let alone a centerfold. I left Nick alone after it became clear he was dying to shoot off, but he wasn't about to do it around me. So I spent the remaining time I had looking for Alicia without having any success. When I got to my 2:00 algebra class, Blake was already there talking to his pal and a couple of others. "...and I still haven't gotten used to the chicks throwing themselves at me. It's worth every bit of it, trust me." "What's worth it?" I asked, pretty sure I knew. "Hey... er... Tim, right? Yeah... You probably could use it more than these guys do." "What?" I repeated. "The Eta's special workout, that's what. Starting next week, yours truly and a bunch of my frat brothers are starting the annual Gamma Alpha Eta muscle-building program in our weight room." "You guys have a weight room?" my cover-self asked with enthusiasm. "Shit, I looked all over campus the day I got here for one. Does it cost anything to use it?" "Sorry, bud. We're not a fitness club that you can just pay a membership fee to use our equipment. The only way you could get to use our stuff is by asking an Eta member, such as myself, to coach you in our initiate program." "Yeah?" my cover-self said with an expression of hopeful excitement. "Do you think you could coach me? I'd do anything to get in the Etas. You guys have everything." "I'm not sure you'll qualify the first time since, no offense bud, but you're kind of small. But even if you don't get in at mid-semester this time, you could always try again at the end of the semester, and you'll be ahead of the game then." "So you'll coach me?" I said, giving him the younger-brother-wants-to-idolize-his-older-brother look that I had copied from Jason and a few others. "Here," he said, handing me a ten-page packet with the Gamma Alpha Eta logo on the cover sheet. "Look this over and fill out the forms if you're really interested, then come to one of the information sessions listed on the first page. You'll have to take a physical right after the session if you're still wanting to get in, and they'll want a urine sample so don't go before the session. They just want to make sure you're not on drugs or some shit like that. Here, you guys want one too, I know you do..." he said, passing some more packets out to the four or five guys actively listening to what he was saying. My cover-self quickly scanned through the packet while the teacher was getting ready to start class, then reluctantly put it away to take notes. I was strongly tempted to override and take another look at the packet, but I knew from that moment on, any such interruption or alteration of my cover personality would be at the risk of someone detecting my extremely low telepathic activity while I did so. The fun was over. Now all there was left was a lot of work, and a lot more waiting. Joey, Nick, and I sat in the front row with our filled-out forms in hand that Thursday evening. Joey had approached one of the two Etas in his Biology class after I used the share link to tell him about my conversation with Blake. After Joey's biology lab got out, we went to the cafeteria to meet Nick, only to find that not only had he already got his own packet, he had two extra sets for us. The turnout at the information session was huge, but since we had gotten there three hours early, a large number of the Etas had talked to us, eager to keep us enthusiastic about trying to get in. Everyone one of them told us if we did everything we were supposed to in our workouts without slacking off, we would get in even if we didn't pass what they called the "muscle requirement." The information session was very direct and open. Mike, the fraternity's leader, explained that the main reason the Eta members always had better grades after joining was from the physical exercise they required all members to perform. Their concept was based on the belief that the mind performed better if the body is driven to the point of exhaustion several times a week. He kept repeating their motto, "A healthy and fit body produces a healthy and fit mind." Mike denied any sort of cheating or even tutoring to improve the grades of their frat brothers. And after that topic had been exhausted, he landed a bombshell that caused quite a stir. "No member of the Gamma Alpha Eta is allowed to have sex without the permission of its leaders and the testing of the intended partners." Once the crowd had stopped laughing and saw he was serious, a lot of shouting went on about rights and such. But Mike didn't back down, and after seven or eight guys got up and left, he continued answering questions until they had been exhausted too. The next topic he launched concerned the topics of drugs, smoking, and other no-nos, ending up on the subject of no unauthorized drinking, and the amounts would always be limited by the leaders. After a few other people left, and the rest of the crowd had swallowed that bitter pill, he went on to give the official benefits. Every member graduated on time with grades exceeding their original expectations. The cooking was good and while it was also healthy, he noted that he never heard anyone complain they didn't like the grub. All the fraternity beds were full size, explaining that with the increase in body size, twin beds or laughably even the bunks in the dorms were simply were not acceptable. The workouts were scheduled as to not conflict with their school work, and since there wasn't much time for entertainment with all the workout periods, their weight rooms were each equipped with large TVs with over a hundred cable channels, and kick-ass sound systems that outperform anything else on campus. And while no one was permitted to get drunk off their ass, the alcohol was free at the parties. Mike naturally added that you had to be of age to drink, but everyone there knew that once you were an Eta, they didn't really enforce that rule. Mike also stated that any approved sexual activity was completely kept confidential, and that if requested, they may use the frat's "romance room" which contained a waterbed, a full-sized mirror on the ceiling, and a supply of condoms which were required in intercourse with a woman. Someone in the crowd pondered whether the gays would have to use condoms too, causing a large outbreak of laughter which was killed when Mike responded by saying, "If they both tested to be free from any possible infection, then no, they wouldn't have to use the condom, but we generally stress you still should. We don't have many homosexuals in our fraternity, but we don't penalize them. If you have a problem coexisting with someone who is bi or gay, you won't fit in here. No one has ever been forced into a sexual encounter of any kind. If you're not gay, you don't have to worry about someone dropping the soap and asking you to pick it up. That simply doesn't happen here. Any questions?" Surprisingly, there wasn't, so then Mike turned it over to another member to instruct us how to turn in our forms and take our physicals. That was probably the most difficult part.There really wasn't a mad rush to the next room, but there were enough people ahead of us that it took a good twenty minutes before I could hand someone my form and watch them process it. Once they had confirmed my identity by examining my driver's license and student ID, I was given a little plastic cup with a number on it and told to fill it before going to an examination room. Actually, the examination rooms were just those office cubicles, and since you could see that they were stripped naked inside them, I knew that my cover personality was going to have a blush fit any moment. My cheeks were already red by the time I stepped in the bathroom to fill my cup, then after I finished emptying myself into the urinal, I passed Joey on the way out. He messaged me through the link that it wasn't funny, and I was about to message back to ask what he was talking about when he came back out and I noticed his body flush. Both I and my cover personality had a good chuckle about that, but we cooled our humor when they called next, escaping Joey's murderous looks by stepping into the open cubicle. It was strange for me to feel my cover personality having timid feelings about being nude as I stripped under the close eye of the medical student. He obviously was not a member of the fraternity, having less muscle than I had. But he knew what he was looking for, and after a few grunts and huhs, I started to feel concerned that he wouldn't pass me. After the routine physical, he said to fully qualify, I would need to have a blood sample taken, and he could do it then, but I could wait until I was sure I was going to go through with it. From the way he said it, I knew he didn't think I had a chance in hell of getting in that mid-semester. But my cover personality was committed to getting in, as was I, so I heard myself tell him to take it now since there wasn't any point in delaying. If I had known he was going to take as much as he did, I would have asked to do it in two goes. But after he filled the dozen or so vials, he slapped a Band-Aid on my drained vein and told me to get dressed, adding that I should be careful if I got dizzy. If I got dizzy? Shit. If Nick hadn't chickened out when they asked him for blood, I don't know how the hell we would have gotten back to the dorms that night. We weren't the only ones with that problem, but as we sat there drinking the orange juice Nick had retrieved for us, I noticed nobody else seemed to be as bad as us. We crashed that night after we somehow made the journey back to the dorms on foot. Joey even skipped English Comp Friday morning, complaining he was too weak to get up, but managed to get up in time for his algebra class, saying he didn't want to have to go to my 2:00 session because he'd miss his date with that chick he had met on Monday. Why that didn't set any alarms off in my head, I don't know. But the moment I felt Joey's share link go nuts and then break, every alarm in my head was ringing with a panic then. I was absolutely overwrought with worry while my cover personality went on taking notes as if nothing was wrong. The class was almost over at the time, so I just waited until I was out in the hall before grabbing control and rushing outside. As I reached an intersection in the walkways, I realized I didn't have any idea where he had been or what he had been doing. I kept feeling around for him using my empathic senses, but they weren't very good for this sort of thing. As my desperation continued to build, I chose a direction and started doing a quick jog to cover as much area as I could without drawing too much attention to myself. Erin, one of the Eta's who had talked to us the night before, recognized me while I was rounding a curve near the library and said, "All ready in training, eh? You'll get in for sure with that kind of attitude." I tried to act as if I cared, but then I caught sight of Joey standing by himself near the side of the library, and took off at full speed without saying goodbye. I nearly jerked to a stop when I saw the haggard state of his clothes and the six tell-tale hickeys on his neck. His expression was that of someone lost in his own world, and he didn't respond to me until I said his name a third time. "Oh.. Hi," Joey said, scratching his neck, then pulling a long piece of dead grass out of his collar. "What's up?" "Are you okay?" I asked cautiously, feeling his instability stronger than ever. "No.. No, I'm not okay. I think we better get back to the room before..." Joey shuddered, then jerked away when I tried to take his hand. I looked him in the eye, then offered him my hand, which he eventually grabbed with an iron grip. I ignored the curious glances people gave us as I guided him by the hand to the dorms. Joey's expression kept getting more horrific as we went, and by the time we reached Shaffer's lobby, people's glances had turned from ones of curiosity to that of shock. As we approached the elevator, people seemed to scatter out of our way, and no one bothered to get in with us after the elevator let its passengers out. Once the doors had closed, Joey moved towards me with a look of a frightened little child. I held him against me as he closed his eyes and shivered, wrapping his arms around me and clinging on to me, even while we walked off the elevator at our floor. He let go and made it to our door without much problem, but before the door was even halfway shut, Joey crawled into my bunk and curled his legs up against his chest protectively. I waited to see what he wanted me to do, then when he didn't move for a minute or two, I locked the deadbolt, threw my keys on the table, then sat down at the edge of my bunk. "Do you think I'm capable of raping someone?" he asked suddenly. "No, of course not. You'd never rape anyone," I said truthfully. "I wish I could believe you," he said finally looking at me with pain in his eyes. "I'm losing control of it, Tim. That girl who I met? She.." "I know all about her, and so does Nick. We've both been suckered by her, and we both lost our underpants." "She didn't let you do anything, right?" "Right." "I swear, if I hadn't had lost the link with you, she would have ended up.." he stopped and shuddered. "I still have the image of her mouth sucking the cum out of my dick. All I feel right now is the need to.. to..." Joey raised his voice to scream as he cried, "Rip her clothes off, fuck her fat cunt as I bite off her nipples, then make her suck the shit out of my ass!" We both were too shocked to say anything as he closed his eyes and laid his head back against the wall and covered his face with his hands. I cleared my throat to say something, but couldn't find any words worth saying. Finally, he pulled his hands down to look at me with swollen red eyes and said, "Will you hold me?" I nodded, and started to lay down, only to find him shaking his head. "What?" I asked. "Not like that. Like the way you did that first night after you woke me up." "You mean.." "Yeah. I never felt more.. at peace with myself. Please?" "Joey, you know I'd do anything for you," I said, pulling my shoes and socks off. "I know." I pulled my shirt off, then was pulling down my pants when I noticed Joey wasn't moving to get undressed himself. Once I took off my watch, I announced it was his turn, which he didn't respond to in the least. "What's the matter?" I asked, sitting down on the edge again. "I.. I have a hard-on, and I don't know if I could stop from doing something if I got naked too." "Should I get dressed again?" I asked. "No. Don't do that. Or maybe.. I don't know." I sat there watching him every once in a while shiver or shudder, feeling his emotions surge with lust, fear, love, and horror. Then with his gaze fixed at some distant space, he suddenly jerked and started to remove his shirt. He moved in short jerky motions, stopping to think, then hastily moving his arms and hands. After his shirt came off, he made more fluid motions, and in seconds his shorts were off along with his shoes and socks. We laid there for hours in complete silence, ignoring the numerous times Nick or someone else knocked on our door. Joey didn't shift, he didn't yawn, he didn't even try to wipe the tears his eyes would randomly produce. I, on the other hand, did all those things, and after feeling his and my stomachs rumble and then realizing that the room was getting dark, I finally said, "Do you think you could eat something? Or are you too upset?" "I think I could stand something to eat," he said, rolling over to face me. "But.." "But what?" I asked as softly as I could manage. "Would you hate me if I said.." "I could never hate you, Joey." "But what if.. What if I wanted..." "What, Joey. Spit it out!" "I want you," he said. "I want to fuck you, suck you, all those things Steven made me want to do with you and him. I can't fight it anymore. Shit, Tim. I'm afraid I'll hurt you or worse. I don't want to lose you, but I don't know how to fight this anymore." "Joey," I started, then left it hanging since I didn't know what to say to him. But when he started to turn away from me with the pain of being rejected on his face, I leaned over and kissed him on the lips, carefully avoiding overdoing it. With a look of understanding and happiness, he said, "I'll try and keep myself under control. I had to warn you, you know." "Yeah, I know. Let's go grab something to eat and play a pinball game or something." After getting dressed and washing up, I was just about to open the door when Joey said, "Hey. Don't you think we're forgetting something?" "What?" I replied just before I felt him form a share link. "Oh. I guess that means.." "Yep," he said before doing his favorite Captain Kirk impression: "Activate the cloaking device, Mister Chekov." "Aye, Keptian.""Cloaking device activated," I replied, doing a horrible Chekov impression, then doing exactly that. His cloaked personality didn't show the misery Joey was in as we ate and afterwards as we played some pinball. I could tell he was trying his best to focus on what his cover-self was doing, but the whole time we were down there, I never felt a break in his grief. I was surprised when he climbed up in his top bunk like he was going to sleep up there, but after listening to him toss and turn for two hours, I finally told him to come down so we both could get some sleep. He didn't argue, and he didn't try to hide his erection as he climbed in next to me. The bunk wasn't big enough for two people to lay on their backs, but neither of us wanted to anyway. I knew I might stretch him beyond his ability to restrain himself, but I gambled he was stronger than that, so as he laid down with his back towards me, I stopped him and took his hand, pulling it until his chest was against my back, and his erection nestled between the upper part of my covered buttocks. "Uhgn..." he gasped as he instinctively pressed his lump against me. "Oh shit, Tim." "Go to sleep, Joey," I said, kissing the back of his hand. "You're not fucking my ass tonight." "Oh God, Tim... Shit..." he breathed against my neck. I waited as he fought for self-control, feeling his dick push against my lower back every once in a while, causing my own dick to start rising, enjoying his hand stroking my chest, his lips kissing my neck, my asshole tingling with arousal... And then he stopped. Just like that, he stopped his movements and sighed. I almost took his relaxing hand to place around my own pulsing member, but as I felt his emotions settle down once more, I got a grip on myself and worked towards falling asleep. I thought the worst was over at that point, but oh, I was so wrong. It couldn't have been any later than two in the morning before Joey had another nightmare, waking me and almost the entire floor up with his long wail followed by three short ones. I was busy calming him down when Nick, Lenny and a few of the others on the floor started banging on the door wanting to know what was going on. I kept yelling at them to go back to bed, that he was all right, it had just been a nightmare. Finally they stopped, and just as I started to feel Joey relax, I heard a key in the lock and the door was opened by the floor monitor. "What the hell is going on?" the mid-twenty-year-old said. "Will you PLEASE go away!" I hissed, feeling Joey tense up from the stranger's voice. "He's been through a traumatic experience, and he just had a nightmare, that's all. I know what I'm doing, so please LEAVE quietly..." I was using every bit of my empathic ability to impress the truth of my words, and after he closed the door behind him, he softly told everyone to go back to bed and to ignore it if it happened again. Joey was shivering from the sweat drying on his body, yet he wouldn't let my arms loose in order to help him get warm again. After I sensed everyone but us had gone back to sleep, I asked him if I could roll over to face him. He released his grip around me, and I carefully turned around, finding there wasn't much room to maneuver. I caught a glance of his sad face as he buried it in my shoulder, so I held it against me and told him it was all right to cry. The next morning, Joey was in better spirits, knowing we would begin our workout sessions that day. But before we got out of bed, he told me he had remembered some more of that blank period, and then gave me a kiss that felt more like his old self. We met the other initiates at the Gamma Alpha Eta house, and were told to form groups of four to five each. To my surprise, Greg joined our group, and after a brief lecture on the rules of the weight room, each group was led by their trainer into one of the twelve identical weight rooms. Wayne, our trainer, was just getting started when Blake popped his head in and asked him to step out for a minute. After a couple of minutes had passed, Blake stepped in and said with an open-mouthed grin, "Well, it's official. I'm your trainer." "Cool," I said, giving him five. "This will be great. Especially since Wayne kinda looked like a stiff." "Yeah, well... Wayne is a STIFF!" Blake bellowed. Joey, Blake and I broke out laughing, which Nick joined in, but Greg did just the opposite. "Shh. Don't you think he'll hear you?" Greg warned. "Nah, man," Blake responded. "These things are totally soundproof. Notice you can't hear anything from the other rooms? Man, you could set off firecrackers in here and no one would know the difference. So, you guys ready for some heavy punishment?" "Punishment?" Joey echoed. "Shit, you sure know how to keep a guy motivated." "Hey, I'm just telling it as it is. There's a lot of stuff you're going to find out as you go along that we haven't told you about, but I'm here to say that it's all worth it. This first week is going to feel like hell. Especially in the mornings when your muscles don't want to work." "Anything else you want to tell us to look forward to?" Nick moaned. "Yeah. How about fucking a different girl three times a month? Or never having to worry about your grades because... and I'm not making this up. It comes to you so much easier. You really can think faster and clearer after working your body to its limit the day before. I feel great, I look great, and everything that used to be hard is easy to me now. It's all because every evening I work out until I drop, then sleep until dawn." "Okay, I'm sold," I said, taking off my shirt, the others following my lead. That evening, the four of us were showering, talking about the surprisingly light if long workout. "Tim, you remember in high school? The first time we worked out? Remember how tired we were afterwards?" Joey mused. "Yeah. But I don't feel all that tired, do you guys?" The others said no, then Greg noticed Nick's expression of concern. "What's eating you?" Greg asked him. "I was just thinking and... Well, maybe Blake took it easy on us. Maybe he feels there's no way we can get in this semester and is just babying us." "Shit, I knew I should have joined Dave's group," Greg moaned. "I mean, no offense, but if Blake is doing that because of you three... I really can't afford sleeping with Mr. I'm So Perfect another semester. He's driving me nuts." "Then why don't you just switch roommates?" Nick asked. "Because Austin is my cousin, and I'd have to explain to my mom why I split on family. She just doesn't understand what it's like." "I get it. Like how do you explain to your mom you don't like your cousin because he doesn't like the idea of jerking off?" I said. "HEY! That's not it at all!" "It isn't? Then why are you always working your baloney whenever Austin goes to take a shit?" Joey teased. "You're fucking making things up," Greg said angrily. "Yeah, right. So what is that noise we hear every night while Austin is out showering?" I said to back Joey up. "Come on, Greg. We're all guys here. We all do it," Nick added. "Fuck," Greg said, shutting his water off. "You're all a bunch of perverts. Why did I ever join your group." "I know why," I said, shutting my water off also and grabbing my towel. "Why?" Greg said with a dare to his voice. "Because you're a pervert too," I said, swirling my right index finger around the skin just above my belly button, then making a scooping motion to my mouth. Because I had my back to the other two, only Greg saw it, and it made him turn white before flushing red. "What did he do?" Nick said, noticing Greg's reaction. "Tim, what did you do?" "Nothing I'll repeat or talk about, Nick," I said, looking Greg in the eye. "Shit," Greg said before turning around and walking back to his room with his towel around his waist. That night after Joey had brought his bed back down beside mine, we laid there in the dark for a few minutes before I felt Joey's hand reaching around my face. I opened my eyes to find him about to kiss me, and so I reached up and wrapped my arms around him, embracing his kiss with my own. Nothing else happened that night, nor the rest of the week. For the next morning we discovered that Blake hadn't been taking it easy on us. We were so sore and stiff we didn't want to move. There didn't seem to be enough time in the day for both our schoolwork and our exhausting workouts. It was especially hard for Joey on Mondays. He had classes from eight till four-thirty, then went straight to one of the weight rooms where we were already working out. Because we were only initiates, we weren't allowed to stay after six. Apparently that was when the Etas began the nightly workout, pushing themselves to their physical limits, only saving enough energy to take a shower and crawl into bed afterwards. It was very hard to work on homework after exhausting ourselves, and Greg quit by the end of the week, but was back Sunday, only missing one workout session which he made up. Then Blake told us the so-called secret to surviving the workouts. You go to bed afterwards, then got up at four and did your schoolwork then. After failing to get up the first few times, both Joey and I actually switched over to that schedule, and surprisingly found it really did work out. Everything was working just like we had planned, but that wouldn't last for long. "Hey, guess what," Joey said excitedly when I got back to the dorm room after my algebra class, roughly two weeks after starting our workouts. "What?" I said, canceling my fake personality. "We've been officially invited to the Eta's frat initiation party the Saturday before Halloween. Is that like totally cool or what?" "YEAH!""That's awesome!" I exclaimed. We did a little victory dance around each other, then when Joey accidentally nudged me with his shoulder, I nudged him back playfully. The nudges became outright body slams, and pretty soon we were on the floor wrestling, trying to pin the other on his back. Joey got the upper hand when his mouth found the bare skin under my loose-fitting shirt and gave me a raspberry on my stomach. It startled me enough for him to push me off balance, then I found his body on top of mine. I struggled for a minute, but then surrendered and waited for him to let me up. But as soon as we had caught our breath a little, I saw that old look in his eyes. "Did I tell you about the dream I had last night?" Joey said, his voice gentle and soft. "No. It wasn't another nightmare, was it?" I said, reaching up to touch his cheek. The feelings starting to pour out of him only amplified my feelings of closeness with him, and without really thinking about it, I prepared for what I hoped came next. "No, just the opposite. I remembered what you and I did before Steven drugged me, but in the dream we didn't fall asleep. We just... kinda held each other.. You know?" "Yeah, I know," I said, moving my hands down his sides in a comforting way. With our eyes locked on each other's, Joey lowered his mouth to mine and gave me a warm and friendly kiss, prompting me to wrap my arms around him and explore his back with my hands. My feelings were torn between Joey's gentle, loving kisses and the feelings of impropriety as I felt his muscular back. Joey's kisses began to increase in their power and started to roam from my lips. The arousal Joey was inflicting on me was being countered by the increasing awareness of how male his body was to my senses. I almost stopped him from pulling my shirt off over my head, but his arousal was already settling down and I knew he wasn't going to go very far. I had second thoughts about that, however, when Joey's lips found my left nipple, but then was lost to the feeling of his tongue's magic touch on it. I only gasped a few times before Joey settled down, and while my nipple tingled with his drying spit, Joey sighed and said, "Timmy, hold me, please?" I blinked away my tears as I held my best friend and lover while he recalled the last set of memories which had eluded him until now. There was a new feeling of happiness between us that hadn't been there since that day in the cell together, and as Joey began to quietly cry against my chest, I knew I was the luckiest person on Earth. Joey didn't cry all that much, but I had felt how much weight the few tears he did shed carried. We laid there on the floor for twenty minutes, and probably would have laid there longer if my stomach hadn't have growled and reminded us both it was time for what we called our three-thirty dinner. I thought Joey was getting up when he struggled to get his hand out from underneath, but just as I started to sit up, his body moved up and laid me back down. "I love you more than if you were my brother..." Joey said to my face. "I just want you to know that even if we find Sarah, I doubt I... <sigh> You're more to me than she ever could be. I don't want to lose that again." My eyes told him the feeling was mutual, and after exchanging kisses on the cheeks, Joey started to get up for real. But not before giving my crotch a teasing pat. We went to the cafeteria without bothering with raising our fake personalities for the first time since that first week of class. After we ate, we went to our two-hour workout, feeling like a million bucks. But I knew that would all come to an end, having noticed his glances at me when he thought I wasn't looking. While the mind wipe had succeeded in clearing Joey from all of the emotional conditioning Steven's drug had inflicted, it hadn't prevented Joey from recalling anything which had happened while he was brainwashed. Between the experiences he had of being Steven's "suck and fuck boy" and the growing attraction towards me he had before our capture, Joey was starting to really build up his desires in wanting me in that way. I wasn't sure how I should proceed, not wanting to risk hurting him so soon after finally getting him back. The small amount of steroids Joey and I were taking to aid our muscle building and the exhaustive workout sessions we had every day with Blake had really been working on Joey. His muscles had nearly doubled from the time we had started a month ago. And to top it all off, his dick had grown to its adult size, thicker than average while not any shorter than it should be. Neither of us had had sex with anything but our own hands for the past two weeks, plus the steroids weren't helping us cope with our "pussy-starving" dicks. I was certain that the steroids had helped our horniness grow as much as our muscles, but had found relief by finally giving in and adopting the old nighttime jerking ritual that half the guys in the dorm did anyway. I was incredibly relieved when Joey finished his shower before me and left without starting what we both had been thinking about all evening. Or more like he was thinking about it while I was worrying about it. But I had nearly forgotten all about his lusty glances when I walked into our dorm room wearing only a towel, somewhat blinded from drying my hair with a second one. Once the initial shock of feeling his mouth kiss my neck while his dick brushed the backs of my thighs had passed, I actually found myself enjoying the waves of love and lust flowing through him as his hand started stroking my cock. And when I felt his organ slipping through my legs, I truly found myself lusting for the feeling of his shudders and shakes while coming between my thighs. Joey moved us over towards my bunk without me realizing it, and I didn't really even think about it when he guided us down onto its surface. My empathic senses were adding Joey's arousal and lust to my own, and I simply was too lost within them to pay much attention to anything displeasurable my physical senses were reporting. While Joey humped my thighs, a difference within him began forming that didn't register right away. The empathic purging of his emotions had restored him more or less like his old self, but the memories from his experiences as Joseph had made their mark on his psyche, and Joey would never be the same. You could say his "dark side" was a little darker, and he had formed fetishes for sexual activities which he would have never even considered before Steven made him do them over and over with him. Depending on how you looked at it, Joey had either been perverted or just given a wider range of sexual pleasures to indulge in. The first real feelings of concern I had about the way he was acting came when Joey's hand moved from my cock to begin loosening my asshole with a spit-covered finger. He felt rushed or even driven to do it. In fact, Joey didn't even try to warn me when he slipped his one finger out and rammed his dick in. "Fuuuck!" I bellowed as the pain was drowned out by the combination of both Joey's and my own pleasure. Joey's hand started twisting my nipples and his mouth sucked on my neck and shoulder as he pounded my ass furiously. His lust and desire for pleasure was growing as he became rougher and less careful, and that was when I started to get a little scared. The moment I tried to resist his nipple pinching, Joey rolled me onto my stomach and I found myself trapped underneath his slightly larger body. As the pleasure and lust dimmed from the rising panic within me, I desperately began struggling to get out from under him. But Joey was beyond the point where he would stop. My ass had just finally loosened enough for him to freely fuck me without it causing him to struggle to get it back in. So to keep me pacified, he used his "magic touch" on me, hoping to wash my resistance away with pleasure. And it worked too. Joey's own version of a magical touch was different from mine by the way it ebbed and varied. He used it to make me meet his humps with my own thrusts, and then after we blew our loads, his into my ass and mine onto the bed, I didn't even realize he had pulled out since I was adrift in the ocean of pleasure his hand was still providing. Even though he had just orgasmed, Joey wasn't the least bit satisfied sexually. He didn't waste any time to decide to use me like a toy. He broke off handling my body, and for a moment I started to get a hold of my senses. But when Joey's tongue touched my ass with its magic touch on full, I was pushed even deeper into the helpless state of intense pleasure. A jolt of electricity passed through my body when Joey's tongue probed my asshole, followed by a small window of somewhat clear thought. Joey was sinking deeper and deeper into his perversion and lust which Steven had given him, and even as I pushed back against his face while his tongue tried to gain access to my ass, I started to regain my self-control. The memory of the time Joey had been able to resist my commands from my words of him someday eating my shit countered the intense pleasure Joey's tongue was producing, and to his frustration, my rose sealed shut before he could even attempt to suck his spunk out of my ass. Somehow I managed to keep my back door shut tight as he unleashed wave after wave of sexual desire and pleasure through his tongue's drilling probes. After driving me to orgasm a third time, he finally was too frustrated to continue his ass-licking any longer. As his cock began filling my helpless mouth, the concept that Joey was literally raping me went through my mind. But I loved him too much to stop him the only way I knew how. So instead of using my telepathy, I withstood his cock fucking my mouth. Luckily it didn't take much for him to cum that time, and once his shutters and shakes had finished, he dismounted.We were both so exhausted that we couldn't do much else but pass out. I awoke to Joey calling my name as he looked at me with concern. "I'm sorry. I.. I couldn't fight it any more. I tried.. Please believe me I tried," he said, nearly in tears. "K-Are," I rasped out, my voice not wanting to work after having his cock in my throat. "Are you, <cough> okay?" "Are you?" he asked softly. I managed a weak grin, then said, "Nothing I haven't been through before." "Me neither," he said sadly. "But... you're really not angry, are you. I would be." "I'm... I'm disappointed I guess. <cough> I thought you wouldn't let.. <cough> let it take over like that." He didn't say anything, just sighed and sat there looking at me pitifully. When I saw it was just a little after nine, I got up carefully and grabbed some tissues to wipe the seepage from my ass and locked the dead bolt while I was up. "Fuck, Joey.. My voice is gonna be screwed up tomorrow, and I have to read a paper.." I said, trying to clear my throat again and sitting down next to him. The tissue paper I still had in my hand had a streak of wetness along with a little bit of blood. I moved it closer to his face and said, "Here. You want it now?" "Shit. Get it the fuck away," he said before allowing himself a small chuckle. "Mmmm.. looks awful tasty," I teased. "You're sick," he said before giving me a shove. He didn't know his own strength, however, and I ended up knocking my head against the wooden frame. After my "OW!" Joey immediately uprighted me and apologized profusely. "All right! I know you didn't mean to.." I said, struggling to get away. "But.." he said before letting me go. "I have to know... Will you ever trust me again?" I opened my mouth to say I would, but realized I wasn't sure how I felt. Seeing his face fall from my hesitation, I said, "I trust you as far as you can trust yourself. Just try to keep your mind on what we're here for, okay?" "Yeah.. Okay," he said unhappily. "Come on. Get your bunk down so we can go to bed." I said getting up to find my sleeping shorts. "I think I'll just sleep alone tonight," Joey said. "No you're not. After what just happened today, I want you right next to me in case you have a nightmare." "I'm not going to be having any nightmares that I can wake up from. Good night Tim. I love you." "I love you too, Joey," I said a few moments after he laid down and covered up. When he didn't respond, I wiped my butt some more, and once I found the tissue staying clean, I padded my crack with some fresh ones and slipped my shorts on before climbing into bed. The next morning when we met Nick and Greg down in the deserted cafeteria around 4:20 am to do school work, both Joey and Greg were unusually quiet. Joey's silent mood I understood, but Greg's... Nick was the one who finally decided he had enough of not knowing what was going on. Just before the food line opened up to serve breakfast, Nick slammed his book shut and asked, "What the fuck is going on?" "What do you mean?" Joey asked, not expecting to fool him. "You know what I mean. What's up with you Joey? Yeah, and you too Greg." "I, er," Joey started. "He had another nightmare," I lied. "Didn't sound like any nightmare to me," Greg mumbled. Joey and I looked at each other, realizing that if we could hear him jacking off at night... "What does that supposed to mean?" Nick said crankily. "Nothin'," Greg replied also crankily. "Just that it didn't sound like Joey was having a nightmare, that's all." "So what did it sound like?" Nick persisted. "Yeah, what did it sound like?" I echoed. "Ask Joey. He's the one with the nightmare," Greg said with venom. "You want to know what my nightmare sounded like?!?" Joey said angrily and standing up. "Fine! It sounded like me fucking Tim in the ass, that what it sounded like!" I don't know who was more startled by his admission, me, Greg or Nick. Then again, I guess it must have been Nick. He simply hadn't considered the possibility of knowing someone who would do something like that. Luckily the few people around us who had heard figured they had heard wrong, only giving us a few extra glances before going on with their business. Actually, the extra glances were at Joey standing there starting to hyperventilate. Once I had gotten Joey to sit back down, I whispered to him, "Why don't the four of us go somewhere private and then we can figure out what to tell them." Joey nodded, then he started clenching his fists and concentrated on steady his breathing. "Guys, it's not all what you think. Joey's been through a lot lately, and he.. Well, can you come back with us to our room so we can talk about it in private?" Greg and Nick looked at each other a moment, then Nick said, "All right," and started to gather his things up. But Greg wasn't so sure. I could feel he was holding something in really deep, some kind of emotion that even I wasn't able to pick up from the way he was keeping it buried. He was afraid that if he went with us, he would let it out, and that scared him a lot. "Aren't you coming?" Nick said to him while I started gathering both Joey's and my stuff. "Yeah, I guess," Greg said, giving in to that little bit of peer pressure. It wasn't until we were approaching our room that Greg started chickening out. "Look, I'm not feeling very good. Maybe I'll just go lay down.." he said, stopping at his door. "Greg, come on," I said. "Whatever you're afraid of won't hurt you unless you let it." "Who says I'm afraid of anything?" he said nervously. "Shit," I sighed. "Just listen to yourself. You're almost to the point where you're shaking in your boots. Come on. Trust us. We're a team, remember? Don't quit on us when we need you the most," I said, recalling part of a pep talk I had seen on TV. "Yeah.." Nick added, "Besides, I'm not going in there with those two alone, so you'll have to come," he joked. "All right," he said, putting away his key. As Joey unlocked the door, something about the way Greg looked at me told me he thought I already knew his secret, and that I had staged this whole thing just to make him tell it. So after Joey followed Nick inside, I stopped Greg, closed the door, then looked him in the eyes and said, "Whatever it is you're hiding, I swear I don't know it, and you don't have to tell us, okay?" I saw the confirmation in his eyes, so I closed the empathic link just before Nick reopened the door and asked, "What are you two doing out there? Kissing?" "Shut up," Greg said, pushing the door open wider, causing Nick to jump back a little. "Touchy, aren't we," Nick said softly as I passed him. "Close the door," I barked to him. "And try not to piss anyone off." I flinched when the door slammed shut, then I took a deep breath and said, "Sorry. I guess the pressure is starting to get to me." "I'm sorry too. I think we're all feeling the pressure get to us," Nick said, sitting down on my bunk next to Greg. Joey was sitting at the table, so I went over and sat next to him on the floor. No one said anything for a few minutes, then finally Greg asked, "Are you gay or just bi?" Joey and I exchanged glances, then we both said, "Bi." "Shit," Nick muttered. "You mean you two really did?.. Holy shit." "I didn't think you believed it," I said. "But we're not really interested in guys like that. We dig chicks. It's just that we're so close that we're.... well, close." "Do you do it a lot?" Greg asked after a long pause. "No," Joey simply answered. "Is that what your nightmares are about?" Nick asked, slightly confused. "Sort of. Not really though. I'd rather not talk about them." "Well, maybe you should," Nick prompted. "It might make you feel better." "I doubt it. They wouldn't make any sense to you anyway." "Do they make sense to you?" "Yeah. More than I wish." "Have you guys ever.. done it with another guy besides each other?" Greg suddenly asked. "I did once, but that was a few years ago and I haven't wanted to since," I said, more or less speaking the truth. "I.." Joey started, then stopped. I looked up at him and he met my eyes with his. I saw they were wet with extra tears and were full of uncertainty. When I gave him a questioning look, he nodded his head, then sniffed and rubbed his nose, hoping he would tear up any more. "Last summer, Joe and I were kidnapped. Joe was brainwashed by a guy to be his toy, and he's having a hard time dealing with the things he did while believing he wanted to do them. Last night he lost control and did some things he's not proud of." "But I would only do something like that to Tim, not you guys. It's kind of hard to explain why," Joey added. "So why didn't this guy brainwash Tim too?" Nick asked. "He tried, but.. it just didn't work, okay? We don't know why," I said, realizing we would have to add this to our cloak personalities' memories. "I know why," Joey said. "I wanted to do some of those things before, but you didn't." "You can't know that for sure," I said to Joey. Then to the other two I said, "The guy planted memories and stuff to make Joe think he had done things before we had been kidnapped." "Some things I did do," Joey said, knowing I was all too aware of what he meant by it. Both Joey and Greg had to get ready for their 8:00 classes, and Nick didn't feel like hanging around, so I spent most of my free time adding what we had told them to my cover-self's memories. We all had a very difficult time during our workout. Not because it was physically grueling or anything, but because we all knew what Joey's glancing at me meant. Even Blake caught on near the end of our workout. It made us even more uncomfortable when Blake became quiet, a stark contrast to his normally jocular personality. This time Joey's self control broke down while the four of us were showering.The moment his fingers brushed between my ass cheeks, I was rendered helpless to his magic touch. I have no memory of anything other than the overwhelming pleasure from his fingertips. I awoke in my bunk with Joey right next to me, my ass and mouth sore. Joey woke when I tried to adjust my position, and after his emotional outpouring, we laid there discussing what we could do to prevent it from happening again. Joey admitted that it was the workouts that were making his lust overwhelm him. The sight of my body growing more muscular every day had been building up his desire and frustration for a while. We thought about working out separately, but we considered the risk that he might start forming the same desires for someone else. You may wonder why I didn't simply use a command on him to keep him from doing it again. Ever since my empathic senses had shown me what altering someone does to them, I had been hesitant in risking inflicting that kind of damage on someone. And my empathic senses were telling me that Joey was only doing what his natural... I have no single word for it. You see, people are very complex, and there are many different ways in which to view what makes a person who they are. One way is to see that when a person is born, they are given a basic personality. Their experiences during the course of their life, combined and limited by their original basic personality, make a person who and what they were meant to be. The damage done by experiencing extremely traumatic events, brainwashing, or being altered by another by telepathic means can cause that person to become something that is outside what their basic personality allows. When someone intentionally inflicts such changes, the result is something which is pure evil, even when done with the best of intentions. But everything Joey had been going through was caused by recalling and processing the experiences which Steven had given him, and he was simply dealing with them as well as his original basic personality allowed him to do so. For me to interrupt or alter that process would have been altering him from his natural God-given state. And like I said, that would have been evil. So, because I loved him, the only thing I could do was to let him do it in hopes of letting it run its course and to be done with it for good. When I told Joey I would just let him have his way with me after the workouts, this made him happy, and because I loved him, it made me happy too. Sort of. Greg and Nick didn't meet us for breakfast like they usually do the next morning, but Nick did show up for lunch and finally admitted to us that he watched until Joey entered my ass, then left because it was too gross for him. Greg avoided us the entire week and weekend, but he did show up for the workouts and made an effort to not seem as disturbed as he was. Joey seemed to have more self-control after our workout that night. Probably because he knew he wouldn't have to overcome my resistance, which had been the greatest source of frustration for him. Instead of going to the dorms, we jogged to a motel which rented by the hour and got a room. Even though the room was pretty nice, any illusion of having romantic reasons for being there was killed by the condom vending machine on the wall outside the bathroom. I mean, I was there because I loved him, not because I was going to have sex with him. I never suspected what effect these experiences would have on me. I couldn't imagine that I would come to like, much less enjoy the gross stuff Joey would be having us do. I have many regrets about the things I did concerning Joey that school year, but this was not one of them. I occasionally still have the kind of intense perverted sex which occurred the following weeks, and it is always the most physically exhausting and sexually satisfying, or at least in the perverted sense. I must point out that while I eventually use other people's bodies to have sex in, I only ever had that kind of dirty sex in my own body, and only with the two men and two women whom I call my lovers AND my soul-mates: Joey, Suzi and... Well, you'll just have to wait and see, won't you?Our cocks were bouncing into each other as we humped in a rhythmic pattern, their precum constantly getting wiped onto our bellies before it was washed away by the falling water. I realized I had begun to like the feel of his powerful and masculine body in my arms, the feel of his manly-like body almost becoming arousing to me. In fact, I believe I was the first to send my fingers down to his asshole, and couldn't help but feel my desire to start fucking rise when Joey immediately did the same. But Joey was the leader, and even though he did want to fuck, he had other things he wanted to do first. When I felt him pulling away from the wall, I allowed him to turn me around and bend me over. He startled me when he ran his tongue across my ass cheeks, but I was glad he had warned me before his tongue probed my ass a moment later. I couldn't believe how quickly I lost my displeasure over his tongue's attack. Within minutes, I was using my hands to help hold my ass cheeks apart and meeting his tongue's thrusts with my own. The more tongue he squeezed in, the more my ass loosened, and thus the more of his tongue he was able to squeeze in. Deeper and deeper his tongue went into my rectum, wiggling and probing while his lips would, once in a while, seal around the entrance to suck his tiring tongue back in. On probably his tongue's fifth re-entry, my cum hit the wall without either of us having touched my dick, and then after another stimulating feel around, his tongue was replaced with his wonderfully thick dick. Once he had worked the slight remaining resistance out of my ass, he stood me up and slowly fucked me while turning my head and starting another kiss. That time I could smell the trace of corruption on his breath, but didn't really notice much of a taste, especially once I had lost myself again into the passion of our anal sex. Our breathing became too heavy to kiss very long, and soon he had me leaning up against the wall again as he went full out pounding my ass. I would have enjoyed it a lot more if I hadn't been feeling his lust building towards something I knew I wasn't going to like. Joey gasped and grunted as he came, pulling his dick out of my ass just as his first shot erupted. I groaned with disappointment feeling his hot spunk splash against my hole, but as my rose spasmed from the wet stimulation, he plunged a good portion of the ejaculate into my ass by the head of his dick. Joey timed his partial penetrations so that his cum was sprayed onto my rose before his cock shoved part of it inside me, and this was incredibly pleasurable to my already tingling ass. His orgasm hadn't even finished its last spurt when Joey suddenly stopped his shudders and shakes to slam the water off. As the sounds of our breathing filled my ears, I became aware of the throbbing cock still sitting with its head up my ass, growing harder than ever as Joey's lust reached a new height. My own dick softened as my fear for what he was contemplating about grew. I wanted to jump away when I felt Joey reach down between us, then relaxed when he ran his finger up my crack to my asshole. But when I realized his cum-covered finger was rising up to his mouth, I had to close my eyes and fight the retching sensations growing in my stomach. After Joey finished his smacking sounds, he licked the side of my face near my right ear and said, "Your turn." When I didn't respond, he said, "I said your turn." "Joey..." I said, nervously. "I... I don't think I can..." "Please? I really want you to. You said..." "I know what I said, but that was when I thought you'd make me do it without me knowing I was doing it. But this is... <sigh> I know you did it all as lovingly as possible, and that's why I'm still standing here. But I'm not ready for.. for.. that kind of dirty sex. You can do whatever you want to me, but I'm just not ready to do it to you..." "But will you ever be ready?" Joey asked emotionally. "I don't know. Maybe. To tell you the truth, once I forgot how gross it was, I enjoyed your... your tongue fucking me." "Then maybe after I do it enough times, you won't find it so gross and you'll try doing it to me," Joey analyzed. "Maybe," I said, doubting it. "Yeah.. You'll get there. I know you will," he said as I felt his softened dick growing hard in my ass again.My mouth greedily accepted every drop of his seed, tasting as much as I possibly could while his cock continued to fuck deeply into my willing throat. But before his shudders and shakes were over, I pulled my mouth off his dick completely, catching the last bit of his cum in my hand. I began fingering that same small puddle of semen into his ass as I cleaned his cock up with my mouth's foamy spit. Joey knew where I was going with this, and after he shuddered with excitement and reversed the softening of his dick, he gently moved towards the bed and leaned over while spreading his feet far apart to give me the access I needed for his ass. I couldn't believe I actually wanted to do it. I felt so.. dirty. I made the mistake of smelling the finger I had been massaging his rose with, but after grossing out for a second, I made myself smell it again, finding the aroma as pleasant and arousing. It was from my lover's sweet body, therefore it smelled like a rose, and tasted like honey. That is what love makes everything become. The moan Joey made when I finally passed my tongue over his already clasping rose stirred a lust I hadn't felt for a seemingly long time. It had been at least two months since I had made anyone moan like that, and after trying it twice more and getting the same response, I lost myself into French kissing his asshole. When Joey's ass closed up tight for a moment, I knew he was starting his orgasm and immediately moved under his spread legs to take his cock into my mouth again. I collected as much cum as I could stand before returning to his ass to spurt his own cum into his willing hole. It was just so dirty, so completely mind-numbingly arousing, I continued making love to his ass with my mouth even after his legs gave out. He was laying flat on the floor for nearly twenty minutes before Joey couldn't stand any more. "Tim.. Just FUCK ME! Please?" he gasped. "Fuck me, use me, do whatever you want with me. JUST FUCK ME!" I didn't argue. My mouth was so tired I was having trouble keeping it closed as I slipped my dick into his ass and began pumping away, only to be stopped by Joey's insisting we did it on the bed. I have to admit, Joey knew how to be perverted and romantic at the same time. After pulling his legs back to give me access to his shit hole which I immediately filled with my cock, Joey reached up to me and pulled me down to his lips. We savagely sucked the spit out of each other's mouths, then gently and lovingly kissed for a minute before Joey stopped and smiled. "I've never been so happy in my life, Timmy. I love you in ways I'll never be able to say." "I love you too, Joey Theodore Connor," I said, kissing him again. When I felt his ass squeeze my cock, I broke our lips apart and said, "I'm going to fuck your ass until you cum all over yourself. And then I'm going to suck it all up while I fuck your mouth and make you pay for turning me into the pervert you are." "Yeah. Fuck my ass, Tim. Fuck it, then fuck my fucking mouth." And with that, I started my pumping again, this time holding nothing back as I used every bit of my newly grown strength to knock my cock in as deep as it could go. Things didn't work out as we planned since by the time I got him to blow again, we were both too exhausted to do anything but fall asleep with my dick still in his wonderful ass. When I woke up in the middle of the night, I simply couldn't find what we did so pleasurable, nor so romantic. I woke Joey up and we scampered back to the dorm, wishing very much I had something stronger than soda to wash the taste out of my mouth. We explored every perversion we could come up with that didn't involve shit, urine, small creatures, or inanimate objects in the following two weeks thereafter. We quickly learned how to butt munch each other at the same time, that being sort of like 69ing except you're always having to strain to hold the other one's ass to mouth. It was very tiring, and we didn't do it much. But when we did, it was a lot of... well.. fun. On the fourth week of our dirty sex, I suddenly remembered the lesbians I had met at the amusement park a year earlier, and we spent several days exploring the depths of each other's rectums with our hands. We were always very careful about making sure we were completely empty and clean before our dirty sex. Neither of us fancied ending up with the taste of shit in our mouths. Okay, so one time we did pull the shit out of the other's ass with our hands, but wore gloves and never tried it again because it was too gross, even for us. I don't think I've left anything out, and since many readers may not enjoy this kind of thing, I'm not going into any more details of the sex Joey and I had during our time at Northeastern State. With that said... Let the quest for Sarah continue.Anyway, I taught him everything I had figured out for myself, and we tried a few things together. "I think I must have fallen in love with him or something. But then he, being the gifted child he is, suddenly decided that jerking off and everything else I had done with him was beneath him. It blew me away. He even started making fun of me. I guess I decided never to have anything to do with anyone like that again." I waited for him to continue, and eventually had to say, "So what does this have to do with me and Joey?" "Nothing.. Except.. I don't know how to say this.." He said hanging his head. "Just say it any way you can," I said, trying to get my head low enough to make eye contact. "I've hid all my life from any kind of dating or anything that would lead me back to feeling that kind of rejection. But... I.. I never stopped hoping that Austin would, you know... reconsider? I'm not gay, and I don't think I'm even bi. But with Austin... What I'm trying to say is, when I saw you and Joey doing it, all I could think about.. All I can still think about is how much I wanted to do something like that with Austin. I'm so confused..." I blinked three times before I processed all that. "Greg," I said softly. "Does Austin know any of this?" "No," he said. "And he's not going to find out, either. I hate him. He's such an asshole around me.. Yet, I can't stop thinking about how much I want to share something with him. Something that's important. I want his.. his.." "His what?" I prompted when he didn't continue right away. "Respect? Trust? I don't know. Not love. Not sex either, really. Just.. Something we can share between us... What's the word for it... Shit." "I think the word is intimacy. You want him to share something back with you and no one else," I said after analyzing the feelings I was getting from him. "Something private and personal. Something to make you both equals about something." "Yeah. That's it. That's it exactly. But it will never happen because Austin doesn't NEED to be intimate with me. He has lots of girlfriends that he's always with, and I can't offer him anything that they couldn't. Except that thing you and Joey did. I guess that's why seeing you two like that upset me. I knew I'd never have that." "Shit, Greg. You make it sound like you can only be intimate with another guy. But you know there's a whole ocean of girls out there. Forget Austin, man. He's the wrong kind of fish for you anyway. Like, when we get into the Eta's you know you're gonna have women lining up to be intimate with ya. Hell, you already have girls eyeing ya. Didn't you notice that Wendy chick watching you in the cafeteria?" "Well, yeah... But I thought I must have had some shit in my hair or something." "Nah. I know that look. She was making herself wet just watching ya. And when you were bending over to tie your shoe, I think she almost died watching your butt almost pop out of your jeans. By the way, dude," I added, slipping a finger under his tight fitting sleeve. "You need to get some bigger clothes." "I'm not the only one," he said with a grin. "Remember, it was you who split your shorts this morning." "How did you know about that?" "Shit. If you can hear me whacking off during the day, don't you think I heard that 'kkkkkkkkkkkkch' in the dead of the night?" "Heh.. I guess you got me there. They were my favorite pair too. Suzi gave them to me before.. Uhm, anyway.. Let's go see what the other guys are going to do before we have to get ready for the party." "Well, there is just one other thing.." he said, staying seated after I got up. "Oh. Sorry," I said, sitting back down and giving him my complete attention. "I'm not sure if this is a good idea with Joe having problems, or even if the floor monitor would let us, but.. You know how you got that empty space where Joe's bunk used to sit?" "What. You want to move in with us?" I asked surprised. "Yeah. Or just sleep in there. Austin doesn't even try to be quiet when I'm trying to sleep. And then there's the other reason I'd rather not be around him that you already know." "I don't know, Greg. I mean, I don't know if we can always avoid doing stuff in the room. I still can't believe no one else heard us those two times." "Where do you guys go after workouts, anyway?" he asked. I felt there was more than innocent curiosity behind his question, so I asked him, "Why? You thinking about joining us?" I teased. "No, I uhm... Well, not join you. But.." "You're serious, aren't you? Why do you want to watch us? I mean, I don't even like thinking about what we've done the past couple of nights. Wait a sec. Did you watch us in the shower?" "Yeah." "The whole time?" "Yeah." "Why?" "I don't know. I guess.. I guess I liked watching ya. But I don't want to do any of that stuff myself." I didn't know what to say at that point. He was telling the truth, and not holding anything back. I was really hurting to use my telepathy to scan him right then, and since Joey had used his magic touch on me on two different occasions without anyone detecting it, I was pretty certain no one would pick up a simple scan like I wanted to do. The problem was, if I found something that I acted on, I would have to somehow explain how I learned about it. Explain to whom you ask? Well, if not to Greg or Nick, I would have to explain it via my cloak personality's memory. "I take it you don't like the idea," Greg said, hiding his hurt feelings. "No, it's not that," I said, laying an arm across his shoulders and rubbing the hard muscle on the other side. "It's just... I never thought anyone would find that kind of thing entertaining." "It just goes to show you were right." I gave him a questioning glance, so he grinned and said, "I am a pervert." "Heh.. I'll agree to that," I said taking my arm off his shoulders to give him a friendly punch. "Look. I'll talk to Joe about you sleeping in our room, and maybe you can watch us once in a while. But I'm not making any promises, and you may find yourself doing more than just watching if you're not careful." "I understand. Thanks." "Now, unless there's anything else that you want to shock me with.." "Nope. I'm done. We can go now hang with the others now," he said getting up. "Uhm, Greg. If we do let you sleep in our room, make sure you always wear some really loose shorts or something." "Huh? Why?" "Because I don't want to ever see your sexy ass strain cloth like that in front of me again," I said, giving his ass a hard slap and adjusting my own tight shorts to give my hardon a little more room.

Chapter XIII: 11th Grade, Fall 1987 - Part 9 - All According to Plan

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/8380.txt

Waldo

Prissy

"You're shitting me! Gary Franks actually came over to talk to you?" Trish scribbled another shorthand notation on her pad to help her remember the story. "He did better than that. He was accompanied by the most beautiful blonde that I'd ever seen in my life. As they joined us at our table, he introduced me to the most beautiful example of Scandinavian womanhood in the world. Tashia sat down beside me, and I couldn't listen to Gary's words for staring at her beautifully exposed cleavage. I admit I was in instant lust for this new beautiful woman. I would've done anything that she requested of me at that moment, even cut my dick off if she'd asked me. Her dazzling white teeth, her beaming smile, her flawless complexion, her gleaming blue eyes, her full lips, her beautiful mane of thick blonde hair, and her luscious, perfectly-curved body was too much woman for this man. Her seductive perfume's delightful fragrance filled my nostrils with dreams of desire as I stared into her delightful eyes. She was too much woman for one man to handle. And she was sitting immediately beside me, making me feel as if I was the most virile man in the world. She laughed at my silly jokes as if I was brilliant, she smiled at my obvious stares as if there was hope of a romance for me; and most importantly, she fueled my sexual ego. I was the Champion Stud of the World at that moment with Tashia and Marcie at my table." "How did Priscilla stack up against the competition?" "I regret to admit it, but she blended into the background after a couple of seconds, except for an occasional attempt to keep us aware of her presence. The two women were listening to Gary as he told a dirty joke. I'd heard it before, but those two women's giggling and laughing caused me to laugh so hard that I almost fell out of my chair. Then Gary did something unexpected - he asked Priscilla and me to join him at this table. Well, it only took one little finger of Tashia's hand wrapped around my little finger to lead me back to his table. Tashia sat me down beside her and Monique, while Marcie guided Priscilla to her side of the table. For an hour, I was regaled and wined by the most beautiful dozen women in the world." "I could see you leaving me for someone as beautiful as one of Frank's women, but I'm still amazed at you falling in love with Priscilla." "Quit being so catty and listen to my story. As soon as we left our new good friends, Priscilla said, 'There's something wrong. Marcie was ugly, overweight and a declared horseman.' I'd never heard of 'horseman' used in that context and asked her to explain. She said that the college-day Marcie was an avowed feminist who was also a masculine lesbian - thus the British expression of 'horseman'. That previous college-days version of Marcie kept suggesting to Priscilla that they take the Wall Street Journal, a jug of wine and go on a picnic. Apparently Marcie wanted Priscilla as a lover, but that type of sex didn't appeal to Priscilla - she was very opinionated about sex, and women didn't turn her on. Anyway, Priscilla said that there were more than just the physical changes that we had seen in this new Marcie, that her complete attitude had changed. This new Marcie appeared to be a quite dedicated sexy vixen who lived only to serve her man - Gary Franks. Priscilla told me that she checked out Marcie's new appearance quite well while I was busy with Tashia and saw some slight physical resemblance to the college-day Marcie. But as she adamantly declared later, 'that the bitch has had a hell of a lot of modification to her body'." The slight slurp sound of Trish sipping on her coffee broke Bryan's train of thought. As he paused to regroup, Trish asked, "There are usually obvious signs of surgery, and I'll admit that it's easier to find someone who's been surgically improved than to find someone that's completely real and natural. But from what I've heard about these women, they all look so natural and perfect, that there's rumors that methods other than surgery have been used." "That's what Priscilla thought also. That night as we laid curled up naked in bed, she talked about Marcie, then about our project, then about Tashia, then about us, then about Diana - a stunning redhead who sat next to me at the table, then about my old job. I didn't realize it, but she was evaluating me. Every time that she mentioned one of the women, I got an erection, but quickly lost it when she changed the subject to my life with her. I discovered too late how she was testing me, and when she angrily jumped up out of bed, it was too late. As she ran into the bathroom and locked the door to keep me out, she screamed that my physical reaction to those women hurt her. I tried to talk to her, but she sat on the other side of the door crying and sobbing about how she thought that we had something special, then I threw it all away because a beautiful woman smiled at me. I told her that I hadn't done anything but talk to her friends and that she was there watching me behave myself. She answered by sobbing something about how my hands behaved, but my 'eyes didn't behave'. She said that the way that I stared at those women all evening made her feel like an ugly fool. I tried to talk some sense into her, but wound up spending the night on the couch." "Do you have an erection while you're talking to me?" asked Trish in a teasing, sultry voice. There was no change to Bryan's voice as he ignored her question. "That was the beginning of the end for us. The next day, she went out and when she came back, she told me that she'd taken a part-time job working for Gary. That upset me because I needed her, but she told me that she was way ahead of me on doing research and that we could use the money. I knew that she was right about the money, so I agreed to her job. As if I had any say in the matter. That evening, she did something unusual. You joke about her - shall I say - personal-grooming habits, but there were several things that she detested. And one of them was shaving her legs. Normally she would shave her legs every Friday night. By Wednesday, her legs were like a piece of sandpaper with her heavy leg growth. Well, it was Tuesday and she shaved her legs. She came out of that bathtub, smelling all good and clean - so good that I took advantage of her shaved legs. Then the next day, she again went to Gary's place to work. When she came home, she was wearing lipstick, which was something unusual for her. She told me one time that smearing waxy colored substances on one's face was a throwback to the pagan rituals that we hadn't outgrown as a society. As soon as she came in the door, she attacked me with her kisses and led me back to our bedroom. After we made love, she slipped into the bathroom to clean up and shaved her legs again - which was twice in one week. She came out of that bathroom all shaved and her lips gleaming so pretty that we messed up the bedsheets again." "Sounds like the typical 'so that's what it takes to turn on my man' scenario. She saw you fawning over the attractive women and saw how Marcie had been able to overcome her previous ugly appearance. Sounds like she decided to see if she could improve upon herself." "Yeah, and that's what she did. Every day, it was some little thing that was different about her. By the end of the first week, she had long red fingernails. They were fake but certainly an improvement over her lifelong gnawed-to-the-quick fingernails. And she was wearing makeup from the time that she got up, to when we went to bed. She would walk out the door in the morning and come back, looking like she'd spent the day in the beauty parlor. Every day, there was some improvement to her when she came home. And she always came home horny. By the end of the second week, she had long red fingernails, a new curly hairstyle, some new clothes in her wardrobe and had lost ten pounds. She said that she needed the clothes because of the weight loss, but these were clothes that she wouldn't have worn before - clothes very similar to the clothes that Marcie and those other girls wore. But the most amazing change in her was her vocabulary and choice of reading material. Her technical magazines were thrown in the trash and she was reading Cosmopolitan and all those women's magazines."At night, instead of lying in my arms and talking about deep subjects such as 'why mankind must adapt to social change', she'd talk about how great it was to have sex with me. She stroked my sexual ego instead of stirring me intellectually. I accused her of becoming a bimbo once, and my wild statement actually pleased her. I've never seen anyone change the way that she did. "Sounds like you reacted to her changes and you probably fueled further changes." "Yeah, that's what I thought too. But she was losing weight, firming up her body, improving her complexion, and beginning to look mighty damn attractive. By the end of the month, she didn't look like the same woman. Oh, don't get me wrong - she wasn't as beautiful as one of Frank's women, but she was a hell of a lot more attractive than when I first met her. By that time, I had just about used up all the research that she had previously collected and suggested that she return back to her work. She declined, suggesting that we use a research service. I blew my top and raised hell. That's when she did the most unbelievable thing. She gave me her first blowjob." A loud cackle echoed off the newspaper's walls, as Trish laughed so hard that she almost dropped the phone. When she recovered to where she could talk again, she asked "All this time of living with her and she wouldn't blow you until then. I used to do that just to get you aroused." "I know. And it was a sensitive subject between us. She felt that taking a man's penis into her mouth demeaned her and was another throwback to those old pagan ritual days - or she used to feel that way. Anyhow when she was the old Priscilla, she was very old-fashioned in her lovemaking - very exuberant and long-lasting, but old-fashioned as to what she would do and the positions. But this new Priscilla was like a just-awakened nymphomaniac who had to catch up. She was so great and satisfying that I couldn't complain. After all, I wasn't about to turn down good pussy, which just kept getting better. I was getting so much pussy that I thought that my life was just about perfect. And I quickly learned to shut up inquiring about social change in America and learned to enjoy a woman who would suck me dry wherever and whenever I wanted it. We were like two adolescent teenagers whose parents went away for the weekend. We did it all as often as we could. I didn't care that she wasn't doing any research anymore or that her vocabulary had dropped down to using words with only two or three syllables. I did care about the medicine that I discovered her taking one day. She had some pills that she admitted that she now took every day and various creams that she rubbed on her body. I'll admit that she looked better and that her breasts filled out firmer, but I didn't like her taking any unknown chemicals." "Did you get the names of the pills or creams?" "No, they were all private labeled. The next day, when she went to Gary's place, I searched the apartment and found all of her pills and creams. I hid them and she didn't say a word when she discovered that they were missing. I asked her not to take any more unknown chemicals and she purred something about 'but those pills help me find the inner me'. I tried to make her mad so that she would tell me the truth but she wouldn't get mad. I knew that she continued taking those pills when she was at Gary's place. And that's about the time that she did something else that really amazed me. All along, I'd occasionally seen Marcie when she brought Priscilla home but one evening I was stunned when I heard Priscilla's key in the door and it was Marcie by herself that walked through the door. Marcie had Priscilla's key and a small overnight bag. She told me that Priscilla wouldn't be home that night and Marcie was there to make sure that I wouldn't be lonely. I was pissed at the way that Priscilla felt that she could manipulate me. So mad, that I fucked Marcie the first time in the living room. Yeah, I knew that I was being manipulated but I didn't care. Marcie did turn me on and she wasn't the sort of woman that you would kick out of your bed. By the next morning, I was so worn out from our vigorous all-night lovemaking session that I didn't care if Priscilla never returned home. That woman could show a football team a thing or two about endurance. Marcie stayed with me all day - I didn't get a bit of work done. She changed clothes two or three times but it was to model her lingerie for me. Whenever I asked what was happening with Priscilla, she'd shove one of her fantastic boobs into my mouth and convince me to forget about her. Two very wonderful nights and two days of making love to Marcie and I was beginning to wonder what was going on. Then Tashia showed up and replaced Marcie in my bed. I was in heaven. I've never tasted pussy as sweet or sucked on breasts as nice as hers." "Well, excuse me. I think I'll go somewhere and just let my sour pussy and sagging pancake breasts die." "Trish, you know what I mean. When we were lovers, I enjoyed being with you but there was just something about these two women, that was better than normal. Sort of a move up from Dairy Queen to Haagen-Dazs ice cream type comparison. Anyhow, Tashia stayed with me for three long days. Then Priscilla came home - or rather the new Priscilla. I suspected that she was having surgery - that's why the other women were there to distract me and when she walked through the door, I knew it. But I'd never seen any surgery before where you heal in only five days. Her face had tightened and firmed up as well as developed cheekbones. Her nose was now slender and her lips were fuller. Her new face with her beautiful wide-eyes made her look like an innocent angel - that is until you let your eyes drift from her face to her body. As for her body - it was quite obvious that her breasts were a full cup size larger. She'd gone from a sagging C cup to a pert and very plump D cup in just five days and there were no surgical scars. She swore up and down that they were the same size as when she left, but I know the difference between grapefruits and oranges. She had grapefruits now. Nice grapefruits with thick nubbins for nipples. And there were other changes too. She'd lost a lot of the dark hair on her arms and legs so that her limbs were now covered with a smooth downy layer of fine hair. Her complexion had cleared up, her hair was thicker and richer as well as colored a dark brown with light blonde highlights. Her droopy ass had firmed up and she had an overall Playboy type body - not a centerfold like Tashia's body but she was getting close. She went from being a frumpy, dumpy, overweight housewife to a sex goddess in less than six weeks." "Wheee, that sounds like something that I need for myself. I need to get rid of these flat pancake tits. Would you like me better if I had some really big hooters? Do you like cantaloupes better than grapefruits? How about watermelons?" asked Trish, dropping her voice to a sultry sound as she ended her question. "No one needs what they did to her. I'll admit that she was beautiful and had a fantastic body but they did it at the price of her mind. She wasn't Priscilla anymore. Just as she told me about how Marcie had changed mentally, she changed also. She didn't care a damn thing about my book or her former job. She was just there to be my plaything - to share my bed and satisfy my sexual needs. I'd give her a book and ask her a question. If she knew the answer, she'd tell me but she wouldn't spend more than a couple of seconds looking through the book before she would try to distract me. I thought that six times of having sex in one day would be my all-time personal best, but that first day that she came back home, I got my rocks off a record nine times. She was like a possessed demon who knew just the right whistles and bells to turn me on and keep me turned on. But there comes a time when you have to drag your ass out of bed and go back to work. I was way behind my schedule because of all the fucking so it was something that had to be done. But no, she didn't care about my book. And it was hard to be mad at her because of the way that she smiled and serviced me. Two weeks after she came back home, I only had three pages done - that's supposed to be one afternoon's writing. Then Gary and his entourage came to see me." "Uh-oh, sounds like bad news." "Yeah, it was. He came to claim his newest member. I was trying to work on my book and she was in the bathroom. When the doorbell rang, it surprised me to find him and his dozen women in the hallway. I invited him in, not really knowing, but suddenly understanding why he was there. When she walked out of the bedroom, wearing her new skin-tight, dark evening dress and high heels, I knew that she hadn't dressed like that for me. He had made himself at home in my easy chair and she sat down on the chair's arm, her exposed firm upper breasts only inches from his eyes, as she sat there beside him looking at me like a sultry cat who was purring for her master - only I wasn't the master. Gary told me that since she'd shaped herself up so much, he'd invited her to join his little troupe of entertainers and that she'd accepted. He told me that I was lucky to have such a fine woman and that he would share some of his other women for a while with me - when she was with him. I lost my temper and told him to get the hell out of my place." There was a pause, then Brian continued "I jumped up from the couch and as I angrily approached him, Priscilla stepped between us, pleading with me to calm down. Her soft arms and warm breasts pushed me back to the couch and her nimble fingers unzipped my trousers. Right there in front of him and all those other women, she showed him how she could control me.And as long as she had my dick in her mouth, I was doing anything she wanted. She guided me back down onto the couch and kept her head buried in my lap as he talked to me. Denise, a stunning African-American, had taken Priscilla's place on the chair's armrest. I vaguely listened to Gary as he said that he collected beautiful women and that Priscilla had volunteered to join him. That she was his new concubine and that she would be spending less and less time with me. However, because he liked me, he was willing to share some of his older girls with me until I found someone new for myself. I think that's what he said. I was having a difficult time concentrating because of Priscilla's warm mouth wrapped around my throbbing cock and also because Denise unbuttoned her blouse, revealing her magnificent breasts. As soon as I was about ready to explode my load into Priscilla's mouth, she pulled back and Denise stepped forward to take her place. That woman had a deep mouth and could suck an apple through a straw. She sucked me completely dry before swallowing every drop. I didn't see Priscilla or the rest of them leave because Denise and Nelda were keeping me busy. It was the next morning before I even had a moment to think about what had happened, then Nelda attacked me again. "Sounds like a fair trade. Two cunts for one. What did Nelda look like?" "She was like the Irish wholesome-looking sweetheart. Flaming red hair with an Irish temper to match and freckles all over her body. I'd never realized before that freckles could be pretty on the right person. She was five foot two inches of pure dynamite and Denise was six foot, three inches of pure legs. She could wrap her long legs around my neck and make me wish that she would squeeze me to death. It was about that time that I realized that although all of the women were stunning, there were slight differences that made each of them unique. Denise was long-legged and her dark skin brought out the savage beast in me. Nelda was the freckle-faced girl-next-door type of ingénue who could lie in bed beside me and whisper me into daydreams of being trapped on a remote island with her. Tashia was pure sex and body with large breasts. The other women had large C-cup sized breasts but Tashia had a full D-cup. As for Marcie, she was like an executive secretary - a professional by day but a hell of a woman at home." "Was that the last time that you saw Priscilla?" "No, Gary rotated some of his other women over to keep me company and one night about two weeks later, I thought that I was doing a ménage à trois with Lucy and Caroline. I was blindfolded and eating dear sweet Lucy out while Caroline rode me. Only when I took the blindfold off, it was Priscilla that I'd been eating. She and Martha had sneaked into my apartment and swapped out one at a time with my current paramours. It'd only been two weeks since I'd seen her last but there were more obvious changes to her appearance. Her face had become beautiful, somehow becoming almost as glamorous as Tashia. The main difference between Tashia and the new Priscilla was that Tashia was more outdoors-looking and Priscilla was more innocent-looking with her wide eyes. Both women had similarly shaped bodies. Her chin was firmer, her complexion looked healthier, there was more of a natural rosy glow to her cheeks, her size D-cup breasts had grown even further so they were now DD-cup and her body looked as tight and fit as if she'd lifted weights all her life. Her legs were firm and shapely and didn't need the daily shaving. Oh yeah, she was now a blonde with shoulder-length hair that had grown about six inches in the two weeks. Even her pubic hair was a golden honey color and was very fine instead of her previous coarse dark pubic hair. I barely recognized her even as intimately as I knew her former body." "That's not possible. You can bleach it but you can't change the texture of pubic hair. I know because I tried to convince someone that I was a natural blonde when I was in college. I wish that we had known each other back then. I thought I was a cute perky little blonde." He ignored her comment and continued, "Somehow she did it, just as she changed everything else about her body. And as I told you before, she was now a giggling, silly bimbo who didn't care to read the paper or know what was going on in the world. The woman who used to quote Socrates now acted like she couldn't even spell his name. She only thought about or talked about subjects that were glamorous or sexual or grooming. She wouldn't come out of that bathroom until every hair was in its place and she looked completely perfect. Anyhow, when I discovered who it was in bed with me that night, I fucked her and then fell into an exhausted sleep. When I woke up, she was gone - as were all of the other women who had been sharing my apartment. There was a note from her, saying that by now I should be over her and to please forget her. And that none of the other women would be coming by to see me either."

Chapter 2 - Gary's harem

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/7991.txt

Mr. Bounders Gets Car Jacked

"I will always love you," the country singer drawled, while Steve turned on the right blinker and eased onto the exit ramp. Headlights from the other cars whizzed past him as he got off the freeway towards Greenway Avenue, then accelerated to make the yellow light. In his shiny sport utility vehicle, Steve Bounders represented that young segment of the American population who possessed blow-dried hair, wire-rimmed glasses, the slightest hint of a pot belly beneath his crisp navy suit, and a freshly shaven look that said, "I just got my M.B.A. and this shiny Gucci briefcase, so don't mess with me." Yes sir, Mr. Bounders was on top of the world. Anyway, the Explorer rolled down the deserted 8th Street, heading home towards a lovely wife and a warm meal. Steve was tempted to run a stop sign with nobody around, but he pulled to a halt anyway for the full three seconds. Suddenly, a figure had yanked open the unlocked door of the passenger side and jumped into the truck. "What the f..." He turned towards the assailant. A hand rose to cover his eyes, and he felt something hard jammed into his ribs. A feminine voice said, "Look straight ahead and drive, Mr. Bounders, or you can watch me do an appendectomy for free." Mr. Bounders had no idea what an appendectomy was, though he suspected there was no such thing. Either way, he knew that he had better watch the road and step on the gas. His voice quavered as he said, "Lady, you can have anything you want. Anything! You want this watch? Rolex! You want the Brooks Brothers outfit? My wallet, credit card, checkbook, anything, okay!?" "Just drive." As they curved around the city park, Steve felt a tug on his pants, and the next thing he knew, someone was holding his scared little jimmy with very, very long nails. "Woah! Hey!! Whatever it was poked harder into his side. "Keep driving." Unexpectedly, a woman's head, swirling with green, pink, and blonde hair, fell onto his lap, and warm lips engulfed the length of Mr. Happy, who was really more of a Mr. Scared right now. Mr. Bounders was too frightened out of his wits to appreciate this impromptu kidnapping of his appendage, and nearly swerved into an incoming police car from the shock of it. "Lady, what the HELL are you trying to do?" She replied with his dick still in her mouth, "Pow-er and shut the engine off or I'll bite your dick off." Then, he felt teeth... Her incisors and the words "dick" and "off" were enough to convince Mr. Bounders to pull into one of the city park's car lots and shut off the engine. Candy's head began to rise, and with the movement of her tongue and the graze of her teeth, his breath caught in his throat. It took a few more bobs of her head and his uneasily growing erection to jolt him into reality. Mr. Bounders gingerly placed his hands over her head and tapped her. "Ugh... pardon me, miss...ooh....may I ask what is going on? Ow!" The hand with the nails released its hold, and Steve saw it reappear in front of him, holding what appeared to be a white business card. The front of the card was for some insurance company, but the hand flipped over and he saw something handwritten in blue ink. Alternating between the median and the card, his eyes followed the words: "Honey, I am so tired of you coming home and jumping me like some horny cow. I'm swamped with work tonight, so I've hired Candy here to get you off before you arrive. There's pizza in the oven and some beer in the fridge. Don't knock on my office when you get back. Love, Leanne." "Leanne?" he asked incredulously, "Is this for real?" He loved his wife for her passion and the occasional kink, but this was...this was nuts! His nuts, more precisely, at the mercy of a total stranger! Candy hummed a most deliciously emphatic "umm-hmm..." and hunched over to take even more of his stiffening length in her throat. She didn't dare let him out of her mouth for fear of allowing him a split second to escape, so she maintained her capture of his most cherished organ. Mr. Bounders' hands tried to ease her head away, but every time he applied pressure, he got a warning nip that achieved a lightning-quick result. Resigned to his fate, Mr. Bounders lay his hands on her delicate shoulders and rubbed them absentmindedly while her lips, teeth, tongue, and throat worked their charm. "Ow! Ow! Ow!" exclaimed Mr. Bounders, as he felt several fingers dig beneath his fly, and out flopped Mr. Happy's cousins, Ernie and Bert. Candy's hot pink nails strummed dangerously across the wrinkled sac. He tried desperately to pull his testicles away from her hand with inner muscles he never knew existed, but between the threat of her teeth and those nails - they had to be fake to be so sharp, didn't they? - there really was nowhere to go. He flipped on the radio and heard someone sing: "And another one bites the dust. And another one bites and another one bites and another one bites the dust." Nope. Wrong station. He could feel Candy giggle at the song, bouncing him against her throat. While her fingers scurried across his balls, Candy's salivating mouth continued to rise and fall against its prisoner. She let her tongue twirl around the head, felt the tug and sway of flushed skin, then stroked his underside with a deft, lingual flip. He could smell peaches wafting up from her bobbing hair. Squick, squock, squick, squock. Well lubricated, her lips rode his shaft, her tongue bumped his across his phallic bulb and slid along that short ridge of skin below. The windows of the Explorer fogged, and the interior cabin echoed the thrush of heavy breathing, while crickets chirped outside. "Women can tell the kind of man you are by the way he drives his truck." Oh, good. Hadn't heard that song in a while. "Yeah and all of that," Mr. Bounders muttered. His hands held the steering wheel in a death grip while he gazed ahead with wide eyes like a possessed race car driver. Candy tittered, but kept trucking as she hummed along with the crooning singer for several minutes. Squick squock. Squick Squock. Squick squick squick. Hmmmm.... hmm.... her mouth vibrated with the chorus. He stared without seeing at the shadowy trees, and then whimpered a bit as she rose up with suction, up to the tip of his dick, and caught the flesh of those miniature lips in the light vise of her teeth. She held him like that, pinched and barely breathing; the rest of his skin, glistening wet, chilled in the open air, while she kneaded his balls with the palm of her hand and his dick with her thumb. "Ooh... owww... ooooh.... uhm, miss? Miss Candy? I just thought you'd want to know that I'm about t...OH, GOD OH LORD!" At that moment, her fingers closed tightly into a fist with his testes still inside, while her mouth softened into a hot oral groove that plunged down, cascading over his head and venous trunk until her lips crashed against his base. Candy's entire mouth - lips, cheeks, and all - gripped him forcefully, and her tongue insistently undulated in waves while her throat tried to swallow him again and again. Poor Mr. Bounders! He thought Candy was surely going to suck his prick right off! He unsuccessfully tried to warn her that he couldn't hold back any longer; "Please! I... God!... I can't... you know, Miss Candy, I'm about... huh UH.. to... UGGNNNGHHHHH!!!!!!!" Thrashing and writhing, Mr. Bounder could think of nothing but the explosive ecstasy of her simmering mouth. His eyes rolled back and his throat constricted. She continued massaging his scrotum and milking him with her tightly clamped mouth, hanging on for dear life. With her middle finger, Candy wedged a knuckle against his perineum, bracing against his jerking hips as he pumped into her gullet. "Thank God I'm a country boy!" Strum, strum, strum went the radio. Despite the soundproofing inside the truck, Mr. Bounders' little rodeo imitation had banged Candy's head against the steering wheel several times while his feet mashed the pedals in triumphant elation. Drivers passing by heard the horn go off sporadically, and saw the brake lights flashing. It looked as if someone had set off a car alarm, but nobody bothered to stop and check. One patrolman, however, was strolling around the park and noticed the commotion.He cautiously approached the tinted windows and turned on his flashlight, but saw nothing in the glare of its reflection. Probably just another damned park squirrel running across the roof. Mr. Bounders was terrified by the bright light, and he had hidden himself by pulling his suit jacket over his head. He didn't dare peek up until he heard the last footstep fade away. When he got up the nerve to look around, Candy had already left the truck, leaving only the white notecard and an empty tube of lipstick on her seat.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11914.txt

Tigger

The Reality of Virtual Possession

"Well then," Dr. Ronald Ketchum said to the beautiful woman seated across from him. "That about covers it all for my purposes." Diane Alverson smiled broadly at the tall, slender research physician. In her public persona, she was known as Lady Mystique, a top-level LPC, or Licensed Personal Companion, who was board-certified for any gender interaction by the state Board of Health and Public Welfare. "I think you have finally gotten the nuances down completely, Ron. Quite amazing, actually. I am only glad that your design is much too expensive to be put into mass production. Folks like me would be out of a job," her mobile features curled into a classically winsome pout. "No need to worry about that, Diane. It is just basic research right now. Maybe we can use parts of these designs to help people with specific problems, but the computer processing components are simply too far beyond the means of the average wage earner for the technology to be generally profitable. Likely to stay that way for some time, too," Ron answered as he stood and offered his hand to the tall blonde courtesan. She shuddered delicately. "Well, that relieves my mind," she said dramatically before her face turned mischievous. "Today was very nice," her husky voice stretched the word 'very' out, rolling the 'r' in a catlike purr. "Very nice indeed. You just call me the next time you want to run more tests like the ones today, darling. Don't noise this about, but I'll even give you a special rate for my time. It just feels too good to be considered work." At the door, Diane kissed Ron on the cheek and offered her own in return. "Thank you, Diane. You have been a great help." Ron returned to his desk and reviewed the notes from the debriefing interview with Diane as well as the medical computer logs from the testing. It seemed that he had, in fact, succeeded - at least from the feminine perspective. All the LPCs now agreed that his system was at last effective. Unfortunately, another ramification of his decision to use only the best women available in his test program had been that there was very little money left in the budget to pay male professionals of any rank for their insights and comments. Well, he thought, he'd tested the device himself, and it had worked for him. Which was all that was really required for what he had planned since the moment he had first conceived the project. Quietly, he sat back and reconsidered all the data, all the results and all the potential ramifications of what he planned to do. No, this device had not been designed for sale to the general population. Ronald had a very different, very personal motivation for developing this technology. Tonight, he told himself grimly. Tonight he'd find out if he had been successful in achieving his true, but undocumented goals. ~-------------~ Ronald stood outside the room that housed his Virtual Environment Immersion Device. With the exception of a pair of running shorts, he was nude. Moving to the table beside his control console, he picked up what appeared to be a mass of spaghetti wire with small, circular plastic disks. Carefully, he unwound the clump of wires and positioned the disks so that the small metallic contacts on the one side of each were facing inward. The whole thing fit over his head like a surreal hat. Standing in front of the mirror he'd installed for this very purpose, Ronald began affixing the small electrodes to specific spots about his head and down the back of his neck near the juncture of his skull and his spine. The wire web tightened to hold the disks in place. The disks were, in point of actual fact, the part of Ronald's brainchild that were unlikely to ever become inexpensive enough for it to become generally profitable. Each of the supersensitive disks included a nanocomputer chip that, by means of quantum chaotic designs, exceeded the computing power of late twentieth-century supercomputers by several orders of magnitude. The wire mesh provided nerve-like connections between the super computer chips, further increasing the actual computing power by several times more. Ronald stepped back to the control console and powered up the networks and ran a final set of diagnostic pre-checks. Everything checked out. "Are you ready, Love?" he called to the other side of the chamber. "Yes, Ronald. As ready as I will ever be," was the soft, feminine reply. Ronald could hear the fearful hope tinged with nervous anxiety in her voice. "And you remember how the control functions work?" The answer to his question was a soft chuckle. "How could I dare to forget? You've been beating that to death now for weeks. I think I could operate these things in my sleep." "Okay, then," he answered, trying to sound confident and assured. "Let's do it." Quickly, before he could think again of what might go wrong, Dr. Ronald Ketchum, MIT PhD in cybernetics and Harvard Medical School-trained neurology specialist, strode through the door of his immersion chamber. The inside of the chamber was a featureless cube that, with the exception of the one door into the chamber, was pure unrelieved silvery white - floor, walls and ceiling. Light seemed to issue from every wall, from every corner without any apparent source in the chamber. With measured tread, Ronald moved into the very center of the chamber and then just stood for a few moments, gathering his courage. It had to work. Failure was simply unthinkable. It *had* to work. Closing his eyes, he took one last deep breath, and was barely able to whisper. "Computer, execute program DarkLove." "Running," was the softly inflected, androgynous voice of the "Vicky", the bastardized name derived from the acronym of "Voice Command User Interface", or VCUI. Suddenly, the eerie room lighting was gone, and the chamber was plunged into a stygian darkness. The effect reminded Ronald of the movie theaters of his youth, where the house lights would go out just before the projector was turned on to light up the silvered screen. The first noteworthy effect of program DarkLove was the appearance of burning torches affixed to each visible wall. Their fiery light flared to illuminate parts of the room, and to shadow others. With the return of light, Ronald was able, for the very first time, to actually see the world he had created - first in his fantasies, then in a computer and finally here in this room. The formerly smooth, featureless walls were gone, replaced by walls made of rough, uneven stone that looked like they had been hewn out of solid rock. As his vision continued to adjust to the flickering red light, he began to make out other constructs that now occupied the seemingly much larger space. There were chain shackles hanging from steel rods hammered into the stone walls and into the ceiling overhead. A brazier filled with glowing red coals occupied one corner of the dungeon, an old-fashioned standing pillory rested against one wall, and what appeared to be a medieval torture rack stood against a third wall - a now blank wall where the door through which he had entered had seemingly disappeared. While his rational mind knew that everything he now saw was all hologram and illusion, it still *seemed* real. Much of that reality was the result of the computer disk web on his head.The electrodes sensed and then modulated the electrical signals flowing in his brain so that he saw, felt, tasted, smelled, and heard what program DarkLove *told* him to sense. He could feel the dry heat emanating from the brazier, could smell the burning wood, and could feel the chill to his bare feet from the cold, damp rock floor of the dungeon. "Hello, slave." The voice that spoke was sultry, female, and amused. Ronald slowly turned to face the owner of that voice. The woman was tall, standing several inches taller than his own six feet. Her figure was slender yet womanly, and she was dressed to show it off. She wore a white blouse that left her shoulders bare while billowing sleeves adorned her arms. Her waist nipped in to where a wide black leather belt formed a demarcation between her modest but shapely breasts and her flaring womanly hips. Black trousers hugged her long legs only to disappear into the cowled tops of a pair of high-heeled knee-boots. There was just the faintest hint of a smile on her face as she purposefully closed the distance between them. With great solemnity, she took him in her arms and kissed him thoroughly. Deep emotion racked her, and Ronald could feel her trembling as she hugged him with all of her considerable strength. "God, I have missed this," she murmured against his mouth. Desire flared between them, and Ronald's arms started to come up to return her embrace, only to have her catch his wrists in her hands. "Not so fast, my slave. This is *still* my game, and we will *still* play it out by my rules," she said with a teasing lilt in her voice. "And I can see that you have already forgotten one of those rules, you naughty boy," she said, looking down at his waist. "How are you supposed to be attired when ordered to present yourself to me, slave?" An embarrassed flush fired Ronald's face, and he hastily shucked out of the running shorts. "I am to be nude, Mistress Ellen, so that any part of my body is available to you and your pleasures." She nodded. "Too bad you did not remember until prompted, pet. That is a demerit already, and we haven't even started yet." She paused, looking around her slowly to take in the facilities of the dungeon, before speaking loudly. "Computer, execute program safeword." "Running. The slave will state his safeword aloud for voice print identification." Ronald swallowed to clear the lump in his throat, and failed. "My safe..." his voice broke, and he coughed, before all but yelling "My safeword is steadfast." "Acknowledged and voice print logged," responded the main computer. "The next time either participant speaks aloud the word 'steadfast', Program DarkLove will be terminated by this facility. Continuing program DarkLove." "Now that we've gotten that out of the way, let's see what we can do in your little play land, my love." Her eyes rose upward to where a set of shackles dangled down from the rock ceiling. Thought became deed, and Ronald quickly found his arms pulled tautly above his head. Again, he knew that the chains were not really there, but the neural network in his helmet inhibited signals from his brain that would allow his arms to lower or to move beyond the limitations of the virtual bindings. Real chains could not have bound him any more effectively than the commands that restrained his brain and nervous system. Such was the power and the influence of the Virtual Environment Immersion Device. Mistress Ellen slowly circled her bound slave, her hands touching him and exploring him again and again - a feathery graze across his taut stomach, a teasing, almost painful pinch of his nipples, a kiss on the neck just behind the shell of his ear, a fondling squeeze of both asscheeks. "You are a magnificent animal, darling slave," she whispered into his ear as she continued to squeeze his butt. "I am going to enjoy this so much." "I will do my very best to give you pleasure, Mistress Ellen," he whispered back. "I know you will, dear," her voice was warm with the special emotion they were sharing. "You always have. Now, let's begin, shall we? First, a little warmup, my love." The hands on his buns slipped away. *SMACK* Stinging fire lit his right asscheek, which was immediately followed by a matching burn in the left. After the first shocking swat, Ronald let himself ease into the rhythm of the spanking. Mistress Ellen had always been an artist at this type of play. The blows were not too fast nor too slow; their intensity neither too hard nor too soft. Gradually, she struck a spark inside him, which she carefully fanned into a warming fire. "My hand stings, darling," she complained. "Where's my flogger?" she demanded. Immediately, the requested tool appeared in her hand. "How very thoughtful," she said as the long strands of soft deer hide cut across both cheeks of his bottom. The fire she'd lit mere moments before flared hotter, and Ronald found himself becoming aroused and erect even as tears streamed down his cheeks. Mistress saw it, too, for she stepped around him and gripped the hard length of him in her free hand. "Very nice, slave," she said as she leaned over and kissed him again. "I am going to enjoy that...later. However, I think it is just a little too early for such presumption on your part, and you are already facing at least one demerit's worth of correction. Your training has slipped," she tsked at him in mocking sympathy. "Well, let's see if I can take your mind off that unsightly swelling, dear." The "devil-take-the-hindmost" glint in her eyes should have warned him, but as she had just pointed out, he was out of training - on many levels. A whistling hiss was all the warning he received before an icy-cold line of fire seared across his buttocks. His agonized scream died a-borning in his chest when his breath was stolen by the next slash that sliced him right in the very tender crease between buttock and thigh. Mistress Ellen strutted back into his field of vision. A look of triumphant pleasure lighting her lovely face, and a rattan school cane swinging loosely from a leather wrist strap held in her strong right hand. "Aw, look," she said in feigned dismay as she lifted his now limp cock with the tip of the four-foot-long implement, "It wilted, poor thing." With only the merest flick of her wrist, she sent the tip end of the cane snapping across the twin balls hanging low in his scrotum. Ronald's eyes bulged, and his scream of surprised pain resounded off the dark walls of the dungeon, as he did a graceless jig, trying vainly to lift his legs into a protective fetal position. Mistress Ellen simply stood there, slapping the cane against her leather boot, savoring his suffering, savoring his endurance. When he'd calmed, she stepped up to him, her nose scant millimeters from his. "Well, my darling slave. That was quite a display on your part. I thoroughly enjoyed it. So much, that I want to do it again. I am going to give you four cuts of the cane on your lovely ass, and then, I am going to give you another tap on your family jewels." She took his chin in her free hand and ravaged his mouth with another needy, hungry kiss, letting him feel her excitement. "Only you can stop me, little man. If you don't safeword, I will make the next few minutes terrible for you, and I will *love* every moment of it. So, what are you going to do, lover?" Ronald wished he had not done his job of programming neural feedback quite so well. Over the intervening years, he had forgotten that his beloved Mistress was something of a sadist - a loving one, but a sadist nonetheless. His ass felt like she had sliced him clear to the bone, and his balls felt like they were growing larger and more painful with each breath. That no real harm was being done to him was immaterial - the pain induced by computer stimulation of his nervous system was real and inescapable - unless he safeworded. She had not moved as he fought his private battle with the hurt and the anticipation of worse yet to come. Her chin came up in a royal challenge, daring him to continue and inviting him to quit. It would have been so easy to yell out his safeword...and so dishonest. Because he knew he could handle it, if he was doing it for her. Wasn't this why he had built this device? Wasn't this why he had offered himself up to her? For her pleasure, for her fulfillment? He answered himself with a nod before lifting his head to meet her challenging gaze. "I...will...endure, Mistress," he rasped out. Her eyes warmed, and she kissed him again, more softly and lovingly this time, before offering the cane to his lips. "Then kiss the instrument of your trial, slave, and then ask me for the first cut." Ronald kissed her cane, and then watched her move behind him once more. He felt the cane laid across his quivering buttocks. Closing his eyes, he drew in a deep breath. "Mistress, may it give you pleasure - may I have the first cut, please?" And she took him into hell. She held the cane against him after landing each stroke, letting the hurt sink deep into him, giving him time to recover his wits sufficiently to appreciate the burning pain and to anticipate fully her next strike. By the time she finished the fourth cut, he was bellowing his anguish, his eyes closed tightly against the hurt and so he missed her stepping quickly around in front of him. He did not miss the final "love-tap" to his balls. Only sheer force of will kept him conscious as the computer-stimulated pain drove him nearly mad. But he held on, and he endured for her. "Lower the ceiling chains," she ordered in a loud voice. In response to her command, Ronald felt his arms go slack in their bonds, and he fought not to crumple to his knees. Ellen pressed down on his shoulders until he understood and knelt before her. "Caning you has gotten me incredibly hot, darling."she explained as her shaking hands fumbled at the closing of her pants. "Dammit," she growled in frustration, "I wish these pants were off." In an instant, her pants simply disappeared, and Ronald found himself on eye level with her trimly furred Venus mound. "My, but that is handy," she purred as her hands went to the back of his head to pull him to her. "Pleasure me, slave," she growled. "Do it well, and we might just forget your demerit. Otherwise, you will pay for that demerit with another session with the cane." The threat was not necessary, for Ronald had been dreaming of this moment since he had first known the Virtual Reality Immersion Device was viable. Hot woman enveloped Ron's face as her hands threaded into his sweaty hair and pulled him harder into her sex. Everything the artificial intelligence system had learned from the LPCs fed into the sensations he was savoring at that special moment. The soft, musky scent of her, the sweat-salty, juicy-sweet taste of her, the ticklish scratchiness of her pussy hair on his nose and cheeks, and the soft moans and sounds of her arousal and her pleasure. He felt her begin to grind herself harder and faster into his face and then felt her vaginal muscles begin to spasm beneath his questing tongue. Quickly, he pulled back against her fingers pulling his hair and slid his mouth up to her clitoris. Taking the hard, erect bud and gripping it between his lips, Ronald began to rapidly brush the hard, pointed tip of his tongue back and forth across her. A very satisfying squeal told him his strategy was effective. Suddenly, everything stopped for one, two, three heartbeats, and then Ellen shattered, exploding into a climax that both exhilarated and humbled him. Determinedly, Ronald rode with her gyrations, seeking to prolong her pleasure as long as possible. She finally stopped, her body shuddering, her breaths coming in short, panting gulps, her eyes wide with shock and arousal. "Chains off," she ordered. Ronald felt the chains on his wrists disappear moments before Ellen pushed him onto his hands and knees. "That was very well done, darling, and to show my appreciation, I am going to forgive that demerit and do something that you will give you pleasure." She walked around in front of him so that he could see her. In one hand, she held a harness from which hung a long, very thin dildo, of the type used for anal penetration, and in the other dangled a thin leather bracelet. Ellen slipped back behind him and then laid down on his back. He could feel the hard points of her nipples digging into his back as her hands slipped around him to find and tease his renewed erection. "Excited, are we?" she purred into his ear as she continued to stroke his heated length. "Well, I want you to stay that way and not waste this lovely hard-on. As I said, I have plans for that later on, so we'll just make sure you don't have any unfortunate accidents that would deprive me of those pleasures." Ronald felt rather than saw the strip of leather surround his cock and balls at the root and then become very, very tight. "That should keep all that lovely man juice where it belongs until I decide otherwise," she said with smug satisfaction. Her weight lifted off him, and then he heard the rustle and snap of latex gloves being pulled on. A cool, slick finger slipped between the cheeks of his still burning ass and probed for his anal pucker. She found it on the first try and was soon sliding that finger in and out of his ass. A second finger slipped in when he wasn't expecting it, which in turn was shortly followed by a third as his body first relaxed, then accepted and finally began moving with her slow, even strokes. When the fingers left him, he knew what was coming next. Strong hands gripped his hips, and something hard poked at him between his buttocks, missing the still open hole. "Reach back and guide me into you, slave," Ellen hissed, her arousal peaking yet again. He had always been shamed at the pleasure he felt when she unmanned him by fucking his ass. Now, the humiliation was particularly exquisite as he willingly participated in his own violation. Once he'd seated it at the aperture of his ass, the harnessed dildo easily slipped past the weakened ring of muscle under her weight. He felt the toy slide in deep, filling him, and then felt it slide out, leaving him feeling empty and oddly bereft. Ellen began fucking him with long, smooth strokes, and soon had him thrusting back to meet her. Their movements stimulated his prostate, and soon he felt the granddaddy of all orgasms building in his guts. It never happened. Ronald groaned as his body tried to climax, and was prevented from doing so by the unyielding ring of leather about his genitals. Ellen felt his ass spasm, felt him gripping at her phallus. Smiling to herself, she let his moment of crisis pass as she continued her gentle rape of his ass. Once she he had calmed, she sheathed her toy in him fully, tickling his tenderized cheeks with stray pussy hairs that were not covered by the harness. "Well, darling, if you are trying to climax on me, you must be ready for the next phase. Computer!" her soft, teasing tones changed to sharp command as she addressed the main computer. "Change dildo. New style - Lifelike. New length - 8 inches. Maximum diameter - one and one half inches. Include testicles filled with body temperature lubricant. Execute." "Running." Ronald's eyes bulged as the hard lump in his ass instantaneously lengthened, curved and thickened. The new width alone was at least three times the old one. Ronald whimpered in discomfort as his body worked to accommodate the vastly larger cock. "Too much for you, tough guy?" she asked, her words dripping with mock concern. He wanted to lie to her, to tell her that it was too much, and to beg her to return to the smaller, more manageable toy, but he couldn't do that. "Almost, Mistress," he choked out between the deep breaths he was taking to try to relax his tortured bottom. "But I can handle it." He hoped he could, anyway. "Reach back and grip my balls, sweetheart," Ellen ordered softly. It was difficult and awkward for him, having to reach so far back between his legs with one hand while maintaining his position with the other, but he finally managed it. "Now, listen carefully, slave. I am now going to fuck you really hard until *I* orgasm. I'm going to be far too self-involved to worry about your poor little ass, so your job is to squeeze my balls whenever you feel you need a little more lubrication. I wouldn't let my grip slip, dear slave. The ass you save will most definitely be your own." With only that warning, she pulled back from him sharply, nearly pulling the two kidney-shaped nodules free of his grasp. Somehow, he managed to hold on and then firmed his grip into a squeeze as she stroked back in. He almost sighed in relief as the soothing lubrication coated his rectum. The pace rapidly increased as did the power of Ellen's strokes. Ronald's eyes nearly crossed as his body attempted yet another orgasm only to be frustrated once again by the tight leather ring. "Oh, god, it is so good," Ellen groaned. "So very, very good. Feed me, darling. Be strong for me." Then she went mad. Ronald's grip on her balls failed as she began spasmodically jerking into and out of him, her strokes no longer smooth, her hands no longer firm and steady on his sweat-slick flanks. Grimly, he gave up trying to recapture those wildly dancing balls, and instead braced himself with both hands, trying to drive back and meet her furious strokes - trying to push her ever higher. When she finished her climax, she collapsed against his back. She did not move for a very long time, causing Ronald to worry she might have gone to sleep. Then, she began to move, and once again, her hands crept around his torso, and he felt her buckle something about his waist. When she stood up, he realized that the rubber phallus was harnessed deep inside his body. Before he could quite assimilate what that meant, Mistress Ellen's hands were on him, urging him over onto his back. He looked at her in stunned silence. Her hair was wild, her eyes were wide and just a little bit crazed, and her nose was flaring in her passion. And then she was stepping over him, straddling him between her legs. "I have got to have you - NOW!" the last word coming out as an angry scream, as she gripped his rampant cock in one hand and guided it into her as she mounted his prone body. Ronald whimpered at the sheer joy of having her body engulfing him, possessing him. Her nails ravaged him, digging sharply into his nipples as she began a slow, arching ride. Every stroke she took his full length into the hot core of her woman's body and ground her pelvis into him on each out stroke. Every few strokes she would slide down to kiss his mouth, or to nip playfully at the throbbing pulse in his neck. Helpless to resist her, Ron fought a losing battle to maintain his control, to make the pleasure of this long anticipated mating union continue indefinitely. But it had been too long. A particularly fast down stroke lit his fuse, and he began to arch into her thrusts, to drive himself deeper and deeper into her. The force of his desperate thrusts as his body again attempted to orgasm triggered her own climax. With her last rational thought, Ellen reached down and released the catch-lock of constraining ring about his cock. Shouting his triumph to the heavens, Ronald pumped his very soul into her womb. They lay there on the cold stone in the flickering light of the torches for a long time, cuddling and whispering promises to one another. Finally, Ellen sat up. She leaned down and gave him a loving kiss. "Thank you, my darling. I think that is enough for the first attempt.It has been the most wonderful gift anyone has ever given me, but likewise, it has also been a very long time. I am not used to such intense activity and I am exhausted. "We can do it again whenever you want, my love," he promised fervently. She smiled very tenderly down at him and let her hand gently stroke the sweat-dampened lock of hair out of his eyes. "I know, darling, and we will again very soon," she whispered against his mouth before breaking the kiss and saying in a much louder voice, "Computer. Program DarkLove complete. Terminate Program DarkLove." "Working," was the response. Once again, the absolute darkness descended on the room, this time to be replaced by the light that had pervaded the room when he had first entered. Still lying on his back, Ronald forced himself to look around. The dungeon had vanished, no longer anything but the myriad bits of data floating about on the main computer's storage disks. He was alone in the room, but that was only to be expected. Slowly, Ron stood up and felt the cooling puddle of semen that had splattered onto his stomach begin to trickle down and then drip to the floor. The almost overwhelming fullness in his ass was gone; the sensations of having been thoroughly anally ravished, and of having been thoroughly thrashed and caned were only a memory. With the exception of the spilled semen and his still rapidly beating heart, there was no physical evidence of what he had just shared with Mistress Ellen. Feeling fatigued himself, Ron turned to the door that had once again appeared and walked out of the chamber. Outside, he moved over to where his wife Ellen rested upon the special couch that provided the cyber-neural connection to the main system computer. A soft sound caught his ear, and he realized it was Ellen. She was crying softly. Frightened that something had gone wrong, that she had somehow been hurt by her direct mental connection with the powerful computer, he rushed over and knelt down beside her. "Love, are you hurt? What is wrong?" he asked frantically, but she was too choked up to answer him. Finally, she regained control enough to speak, although the tears still fell. "Oh, Ronald, that was so beautiful. I never thought I would feel those things again, never feel the heat of you as I flogged you, or the love of your mouth on me, or the depth of your caring as you filled me with your cock. And I did feel those things," she sobbed harder. "You made me whole again, and I love you so." Ronald began to gently remove the computer web helmet from her head, all the while stroking her long silky tresses. "I am glad, my love," he responded. It *had* worked. And using Diane's basic body and physio-neurological attributes as the basis for his beloved's virtual reality avatar had worked better than he'd even dared hope it would. It had been the striking similarity between the two women that had prompted Ronald to use the lovely LPC as his primary test subject and, more importantly, as the secret model for the Mistress Ellen avatar, and it *had* worked. Sitting down beside her on the couch, Ronald continued to stroke her head until the tears ran their course. "Better now, my love?" he asked softly as he leaned down to kiss her gently. "Better than I have been in five long years, darling," she said, a yawn interrupting her. "Except I am so tired now." "Ready for bed?" he asked. At her affirmative response, Ronald kissed her again and then, with great care, lifted her frail body off the couch. Holding her close and letting her head rest on his shoulder, he carried her over and settled her into her chair. Still flush with success and basking in his wife's love, he then stood and took the handles of her wheelchair in his hands - the wheelchair that had been, until now, the only freedom her paralyzed body had known since the accident five years before that had left her without movement or feeling below the neck. "It was so wonderful, Ronald, to move and feel again, even if it was all in my head. It is too bad it is only in that one little room." "Soon, my love, I will have our house configured so that you can move about the whole house, at least via your avatar. We can even have guests over. And we can make the chamber into whatever place you want to visit." "I can't believe you did this... it's incredible." "I had a great incentive, my love. No one loves like you. Could I do less?" He already had the plans necessary to equip an entire house with his technology, a place where she could live in a true-to-life virtual reality beyond the limited confines of her unresponsive body and her wheelchair. Why stop there?, he asked himself sternly. Hell, if he could make her brain think she was moving, if he could make her brain "feel" again with his little chips and wires, then he could also find a way to extend that to her real body. His computer networks could do for his wife what her severed spinal cord could no longer do for her. It was the next obvious step in the program, expensive to be sure, but in the end, well worth whatever the cost. His wife *would* walk, feel and make love again, and his Mistress *would* bind, tease and whip again - and in the un-virtual reality of the so-called real world. He had just proven that he had the technology. Now, it was only a matter of time and work and love for him to finish the job properly - and he definitely had those attributes in hand. "I love you with all my mind, heart and soul, darling husband and slave," Ellen said softly, rolling her head and eyes backward, trying to look him in the eyes. "As I love you, beloved wife and Mistress," Ronald responded reverently, "As I love you." "Ronald?" she asked, and he thought he heard just a touch of mischief in her voice. "Yes, Ellen?" "Can you make a corset in the computer? So that for all intents and purposes, it would look and feel like the real thing?" Ronald's heart skipped a beat at that question. Mistress Ellen wearing a corset had always been one of his unfulfilled fantasies because the Mistress always maintained that the domme was not the one who should be uncomfortable during a scene. "Why yes, Mistress. It would be a simple matter to scan a corset design into the computer and then program the neural net to provide the sensory input for the wearer." "Excellent, my slave," she said with evident satisfaction. "Do it before our next scene. If you are going to give me an entire house to roam, I will need a maid to help me keep it clean and tidy." She grinned to herself. Let him stew on that for a moment, she thought happily. "A... a maid, Mistress?" Ron asked, not certain he had heard her correctly. "Of course, darling. You will be just *perfect* for the role. Also, I expect you to start practicing your French immediately, ronnie. I will help you, of course, by monitoring and assessing your progress, and by providing you with rewards, incentives and disciplines as I think appropriate to your effort and achievement." "Thank you, Mistress," he said, just a little shakily and not entirely convincingly. Gotcha, she thought. Time to remember who surrenders and who accepts power in this relationship, darling. "I think we will call you Veronique." She let the name slip out slowly, as if tasting it and finding it just right. "Oh, and do make the corset very tight, darling. I do insist that my personal French Maid be a *very* sexy little slut." Why am I surprised?, Ronald thought. She *is* still the Mistress. That chair only held her body; it never chained her mind. Probably just gave her more time to think, and now, I have restored to her the power to act on those thoughts. He just shook his head, letting the images of him stumbling about in high heels, stockings, a corset, a wig and a feather duster tumble across his mind. She was wonderful, and he cherished both Ellen the wife and Ellen the Mistress. "Oui, Maitresse," Ronald replied using the extent of his currently very limited French vocabulary before adding, "Very Oui."

FemDom, Romance, SciFi

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/14315.txt

Ann Douglas

The Ballad Of Wrangler Jane

"Honestly, Wilton Parmenter, sometimes I don't know why I put up with you," the pretty blonde woman thundered as she stormed out of the Captain's quarters. With a quick leap, she threw her leg over the chestnut mare tied outside and hopped up and onto it. A strong pull against the reins unhitched her. "But Jane..." stammered the young man in cavalry blue who followed her out the door a few seconds later, only to be cut off as he tripped over a loose floorboard on the porch. Falling forward, he somersaulted over the hitching post and into the dirt street, knocking himself unconscious. "Captain!" cried out Morgan O'Rourke, the troop's senior NCO, as he ran across the compound, followed close behind by Corporal Agarn. At the sound of the Sergeant's voice, the buckskin-clad woman turned the horse she had just mounted and looked down on the sprawled officer. "Is he all right?" she asked the Sergeant as he bent down and examined his commanding officer. "Don't you worry your pretty little head, Wrangler," the Irishman said. "He just had the wind knocked out of him. A little cold water will bring him right around." "Do me a favor O'Rourke," she said as she jerked the reins and aimed her horse at the main gate. "Give me a few seconds to get out of here before you do." With that, she spurred her horse and galloped the length of the fort. She didn't even look back before she disappeared out the main gate. "She was sure fired up about something," O'Rourke noted. "Guess we'd better wake the Captain up," Agarn said. O'Rourke pointed to the nearby horse trough, and the Corporal responded by filling his light-colored hat up with water from it. "You know, if we put the trough back over there," he said, pointing to the empty space in front of the hitching post with the water-filled hat, "he'd at least have something to break his fall. At least it always used to." "Good idea, Agarn," the taller man replied. "Have Vanderbilt and Hoffenmeuller move it right after lunch." "Sure thing, Sarge," he answered as he poured the water onto the face of the unconscious Captain. "Blluu...bluuu...Jane...I..." Wilton Parmenter gasped as the icy coldness snapped him awake. "Easy, sir," O'Rourke said as he and Agarn helped the now soaked Captain to his feet. "Where's Jane?" he asked when he noticed that her horse was gone. "She shot out of here madder than a bear in a hornet's nest," Agarn said as he slapped his now wet headpiece against his trousers. "That must've been some dilly of an argument the two of you had." "Agarn!" the Sergeant snapped in reproach. The Corporal quickly shut up. It wasn't often that Morgan O'Rourke lost his temper, but when he did, the last thing Randolph Agarn ever wanted was to be on the receiving end of it. "To be honest, she was somewhat angry, Captain," O'Rourke said in a milder tone. "But she did make sure that you were okay before she took off." "It really didn't start out as an argument," Captain Parmenter said. "We were just chatting, and then out of the blue, Jane suggested how much nicer it would be if she just moved in here with me." Both NCOs just listened quietly. If the Captain felt like sharing his problems, then they'd be more than willing to listen. The same would be true if he just wanted to be left alone. "I quickly explained that it was impossible. I mean, we've only known each other a little over a year now. It'll be at least another year before we even get engaged. What would people think if they knew we were living together? What would my mother say? They all think we were...well...you know." O'Rourke was genuinely surprised at the Captain's admission. He wondered if he was misinterpreting it. Since the Captain had brought it up, it seemed only fair to inquire. "I take it then that you and Wrangler have never...what I mean is that the two of you..." the broad-shouldered Irishman asked. "Certainly not," Parmenter said quickly. "We'd have to be married to do that." O'Rourke took a deep breath and could see the same thought reflected in Agarn's eyes. Wilton Parmenter was naive about a lot of things. He had become the commanding officer of F Troop and Fort Courage based on his turning a retreat into a successful cavalry charge in the closing days of the Civil War. O'Rourke himself had risen to the temporary rank of Captain during the war, only to drop back to Sergeant following the peace. He had preferred it that way. Parmenter, on the other hand, was the youngest son of one of the premier Army families. His medal had been big news, and with it came the promotion and F Troop. Yet, from what he had heard from someone who had actually been there, that order to charge had actually been a sneeze. Still, even knowing his background, O'Rourke found this new piece of information unbelievable. Over two thousand miles from his Philadelphia home, the Captain was still trying to live by the rules of polite society. Out here in the badlands, there were few white women available. Far fewer that looked as desirable as Wrangler Jane. There wasn't another man in five hundred miles, O'Rourke included, who wouldn't run to her bed if she had offered. Yet she had offered far more than that to the Captain, and he had turned her down. Incredible. "If you like, Captain, we could have Dobbs and Duffy ride out after her," the Sergeant said, changing the subject. "She was headed away from town, out towards the Hakowie camp. It'll be dark in a few hours." "No, better let her get it all out of her system," the Captain said as he turned and headed back into his office. "She'll be all right. After all, she rides and shoots better than any man in the troop." With that, he closed the door to his quarters behind him. Morgan O'Rourke stood there for a minute, staring at the hard wood door. He didn't say a word until Agarn reminded him that they had to get the latest shipment of O'Rourke Enterprises souvenirs off to Dodge City. "Incredible," O'Rourke softly repeated to himself before talking off after Agarn towards the NCO club.The Thrifts, of course, were welcome in the finest homes of New York, Boston, and Philadelphia. That girl had died in the bed of a man whose name she couldn't even remember. In her place had been born Wrangler Jane. If she had been born a man instead of a woman, then her life would've been much different. Then her qualities would have been appreciated. She sometimes wished that she had been born such. She would've been much better off. Of course, then Wilton would've had to have been born a woman instead as well. But that might've suited him too. He would make a better woman than man. A sudden sound from behind the long row of bushes caused her to crouch down and pull out her six-shooter. The quick, fluid motion of which was the envy of every man she knew. Tying Sparkle's reins to the shrub, she carefully moved to higher ground. Stepping slowly, she silently climbed an outcrop of boulders, giving her a view of the riverbank below. Looking down, she saw the source of the noise. Standing naked in the shallow edge of the water was a young Indian maiden. Her long black hair stretched down to the cheeks of her ass. She was very pretty by both white and Indian standards. Small but full breasts stood firm in the late afternoon sun. Her entire body was a sun-kissed brown, showing that she spent a great deal of time like she was now. Between her legs was a small batch of black hair. Jane wondered if the smallness of the area was natural or if the maiden trimmed it as Jane did her own. She couldn't have been, Jane guessed, more than 16 or 17. Wanting to get a better look, Jane carefully shimmied down the rocks. The girl's back was now to her, so she took a chance and bolted to the edge of the bushes. Stepping on a dry twig, Jane was certain that she had given herself away. But the girl never turned. Now secure in her new vantage point, the 25-year-old sat quietly and watched. And as she watched, old familiar, but long-buried feelings, once more surfaced. The soft-skinned girl ran her wet hands up and down the length of her body. She pressed the roundness of her breasts, rubbing the small nipples until they were hard. Under her buckskin blouse, Wrangler felt her own nipples stiffen. That was the unspoken reason she had felt at home. Aside from being more man than many men she had met, she also sometimes felt a man's attraction for a woman. It was years before she learned to accept those feelings. Even longer before she had acted on them. One night in Dodge City, she had paid a young prostitute to sleep with her. It had been one of the most exciting times of her life. But she had been determined not to become a frequenter of whores. She remembered all too well the look of disgust the harlot had given her when she left her room the next morning. Still, the unnaturalness of the act hadn't prevented her from taking the money. Instead, she had buried the urges. It had been easy enough. After all, most of the women she met out here in the West were either whores or settlers' wives. Neither of which held much attraction for her. Of course, there was always the occasional daughter that would catch her fancy, but those opportunities usually never presented themselves. They wanted husbands, the sooner the better. Most nights she would satisfy herself with their images in her mind. Then she had found Wilton Parmenter. A man feminine enough to not be bothered by her masculinity. If only he wasn't so tied up in the propriety of things. The small hands of the Indian girl were now situated between her legs. Wrangler knew that if she could get closer, she would be able to see that the girl had her fingers up inside herself. The look on her face was proof of that. The wetness there must be the equal of Wrangler's own. Finally, not able to keep still any longer, Wrangler slid her own hand down into her trousers. A soft moan escaped her lips as she gently stroked her moistness. It felt so good. Memories of that girl in Dodge filled her mind's eye. Those and the thought of how much more wonderful it might be to actually touch the warm softness of the girl before her. Standing up, she took a few steps out into the open. The Indian maid was again turned away from her and didn't see her at first. Then out of the corner of her eyes, she saw the buckskin-clad figure. Yelling out something in a language Wrangler didn't understand, the Indian dove down towards a loose squaw's dress left on a nearby rock. Rather than trying to cover herself, she emerged from the pile with a long knife in her hand and assumed a combative stance. Wrangler reacted automatically to the appearance of the knife and had her gun in hand without even thinking about it. There they stood, less than a dozen feet apart, with weapons drawn. "This is silly," Wrangler thought as she looked down at the gun and then at the knife in the maiden's hand. "And it could turn into something dangerous very fast." With that, she reholstered her weapon and held both her hands up and palms outward. She shook her head and let her hat fall free, revealing her long, tied blonde tresses. "You are a woman," the maiden said as she lowered the knife. "My name is Wrangler Jane." "The trading woman from the fort. I know of you," came the reply. "But I always thought you must be old and ugly to have such a name." "Hardly," Jane said dryly. "I am Singing Deer, daughter of Roaring Chicken of the Hakowie." Jane thought for a moment and remembered meeting the old medicine man at some function or other at the fort. "I've met your father," she said. An awkward silence held for a few seconds until Singing Deer said, "I have never seen hair such as yours, the color of the sun. It is very beautiful." "Thank you," Wrangler said. With that, she reached up and pulled out the leather thong that held it in place and let her hair fall around her shoulders. "That is much better," commented the maiden. "I didn't mean to disturb your privacy," Jane said, trying to think of something to fill the void. "I didn't think that I was that close to the Hakowie Camp." "The camp is still two hours' walk from here," Singing Deer said as she dropped the blade and stepped closer to Wrangler Jane. "I sometimes come to this place to be by myself and think." "And to please yourself," Jane said without thinking as her gaze shifted from the small brown breasts to the dark wet patch below. Singing Deer paused for a moment and then continued, "As the daughter of the medicine man, I am promised to whoever becomes the next Chief of the Hakowies. But as Crazy Cat will most certainly tell you, it will be many, many moons before Wild Eagle goes to the happy hunting ground. Until that time, it is written that no man may touch me." "Can't be much fun," Jane said. "It is not," the young girl said softly. "Well, I can understand that," Jane said sympathetically. "But maybe I can help." The tall young woman looked confused as Jane's smile grew brighter. "I may not be touched by a man, not even a white man," she repeated, thinking that Jane was planning to take her into town. "But I am not a man," Jane grinned, thankful for the first time in her life that she was able to say that. Softly rubbing her hand against the moist mound between Singing Deer's long, tanned legs, Jane quickly replaced the look of confusion with one of delight. Taking the quiet moans as encouragement, Jane removed her hand and reached up and undid the laces of her blouse. Singing Deer watched in fascination as it fell away, exposing the large, pale pink breasts beneath. Even more fascinating to her was the blonde bush that was revealed when Wrangler's pants joined her shirt on the ground. Jane sighed as Singing Deer reached out and placed her hands against her melon-sized mounds. The nipples were rock hard, and the touch of her slender fingers sent shivers through Jane's body. The younger woman experimentally ran her fingers back and forth across them, delighting in the soft sounds emanating from the white woman's throat. Wrangler looked into the girl's eyes, quickly losing herself in their depth. She hesitantly lowered her mouth to the Indian's. It was a light, tentative kiss at first. She knew the Hakowie, like most Indian tribes, had never had a kissing tradition. She was unsure how Singing Deer would react. Feeling the soft pressure of her kiss returned, Jane pressed her tongue against the opening of Singing Deer's mouth. The younger girl opened her mouth instinctively, and quickly tongue met tongue. While their tongues slid back and forth, Jane cupped Singing Deer's breasts. Then she bent down and replaced her hands with her mouth. The caress of her warm mouth sent a string of words running from the Hakowie that Jane didn't understand. The tone, however, was unmistakable. That and the slight pressure against Jane's head as she was again guided to the hard, dark brown nipples. Wrangler nuzzled at each breast for a while longer, then began a journey downward. A light film of saliva marked the trail of her tongue as it moved down Singing Deer's stomach and across her belly button. Lower she went, nibbling her way to the girl's womanhood. Reaching the now thoroughly saturated patch, Jane took a moment to relish the aroma. An aroma she hadn't savored for a long time. She kissed each thigh, again and again, before moving on to her prize. It began as a flicker. Then a touch. Finally, a long, loving caress. She could feel Singing Deer's body react to each stroke as she ran her tongue across her clit over and over. Singing Deer began to buckle and spasm as Jane increased the intensity of her tongue's attack. She slid her free hand down between her own legs and slid first one, then two, and finally three fingers within herself. She quickly matched the tempo of her fingers to that of her tongue.Sweat ran down the Indian's body as she shook with each new ecstatic jolt. She could feel the rising crest within her and knew that her first orgasm at the hands of another was near. Wrangler darted her tongue in and out of Singing Deer's tunnel of love, causing the waves of pleasure cascading up and down the younger girl's body to double. The harder Jane moved her tongue, the faster the waves repeated. Faster and faster the waves washed over Singing Deer, each bringing her closer to an explosion. Tears ran down her cheeks as she tried to delay the fire within her so that she could enjoy each second. With a yell, the Hakowie maiden climaxed as she had never done by her own hand. Her small body shook for endless seconds as she took in every aspect of her rapture. Jane followed with her own orgasm seconds later as her fingers covered with her wetness. A much softer cry on her lips. Both women collapsed to the ground, entangled in each other's arms. Silently they lay there, caressing and kissing each other's body. Time passed slowly as the rays of the sun faded on the horizon. The silver moon replaced the golden sun in the sky and a chill appeared in the air. Singing Deer built a fire and Jane produced a couple of blankets from her saddle roll. Together, they huddled naked beneath the blankets, keeping each other warm. They spent the night talking and making love once more. This time Singing Deer brought the same pleasure to Jane that Jane had brought her. By early morning when Jane dropped her newfound lover off within a five-minute walk to her home, they had already made plans to meet again in a week. In that time, Singing Deer planned to teach the other women of her village what she had learned. Wrangler Jane, on the other hand, had made a promise to herself that one way or another, Wilton was going to give her what she was due, even if she had to tie him down first to do it.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/9894.txt

MAW

HypFant 6: Fifty-Fifty

"Don't drive angry" was a cardinal rule of traffic safety, and one that Lyle was breaking as much as the speed limit. Lyle was not only angry, he was absolutely furious, a scowl breaking his handsome face, his dark eyes glinting with rage, and his skin almost the same shade of red as his hair. He was pissed off, and there was nothing that would stop him from getting answers. Never again, Lyle thought. Never again would he trust Ron for another thing as long as he lived. Ever since college, Ron had talked Lyle into one stupid scheme after another, leaving at the first opportunity and forcing Lyle to hold the bag. Yet, Lyle continued to trust him. Well, not anymore. Ron had crossed the line this time. "Fifty-fifty" was how he'd put it. An even split between the two in running the jewelry shop. Lyle had been reluctant to take on a partner, especially Ron, but he'd agreed like an idiot. He had to admit, Ron did do some good work, but this morning that had changed. When neither Ron nor the last month's proceeds had arrived, Lyle had immediately closed up shop and tore out on the freeway, finally coming to Ron's home. Lyle took a few moments to steady himself. He didn't see Ron's car in the driveway, so he probably wasn't there. Taking a deep breath, Lyle got up from his seat and walked over to the front door. He rang the bell and tried to look presentable and calm as he waited. After a few moments, the door opened, and Joan was on the other side. Ron's wife was a looker, tall with a great chest and long dark hair flowing around her. She wore a simple dress and looked like she'd run down the stairs to answer the door. "Lyle, hi!" Lyle immediately noticed the nervousness in her voice. "What are you doing here?" "Looking for Ron," he said. "Can I come in?" "Um, sure, sure, go ahead." Joan moved aside to let him in. Lyle pretended not to notice the suitcase he saw in the living room. He let Joan walk him into the living room and into a seat. She sat on the sofa opposite him. "Sorry," Lyle said. "It's been a little chaotic at work today." He leaned back and stuffed his hands into his coat pockets. He felt something in his hand and remembered that he had to cancel an appointment with an important customer interested in a special necklace. Something else to take out on Ron. If he could find out what happened. And that's when it hit him. Lyle's brother was a professional hypnotist and had attended a party at Ron's house a few months ago. He'd been talked into showing off and had given everyone a good time. Of special note was Joan, who went a lot farther than the others when told she was a stripper. Lyle's brother had stopped her before it got out of hand, but she could have gone all the way. Lyle remembered his brother saying that Joan was a uniquely receptive subject to both induction and instruction, quite obedient. That gave Ron an idea. "Actually, Joan, what I wanted to do was ask Ron about this," Lyle said, pulling out a jeweled pendant attached to a chain. He dangled it in between them, positioning it so the light struck the jewel just right. "Our client loved it the first moment she saw it," Ron said. "You have to agree it's eye-catching. It gets your attention the first time you see it. The way it dangles in the air, swinging lightly side to side, the light bouncing off of it as it turns, little flashes of light coming over your vision. It's so relaxing to watch the lights shine and swing, shine and swing." The pendant was in a small swing, moving lightly side to side, and Joan's eyes were fixed to it. Already, her facial muscles were relaxing. Lyle had learned a few things from his brother and could see that Joan was easily falling under, faster than he expected. He kept talking, shifting into a slightly deeper voice as he waved the pendant. "It's so relaxing, Joan, to watch the pendant, to watch the pretty lights shining off the pendant, to see them shine in your eyes. The lights swing side to side, side to side, flashing into your eyes, making you feel so relaxed and so calm. It's so wonderful, Joan, to see the wonderful lights, so relaxing, so very relaxing. You can't take your eyes away, Joan, you have to keep looking at the lights. The lights, Joan, the wonderful lights. The wonderful swinging lights. Swing and shine, swing and shine. Look at them, Joan. Look at them..." It took about half an hour for him to get her down to the right level of trance and to get the whole story. It seemed Ron had gotten a hot tip on a jewel coming into L.A. over the weekend. He had funds of his own for the plane ticket, but not enough to completely cover the jewel's cost. He had taken the money from the store, planning to buy the jewel, then sell it at twice the cost and repay Lyle back in full. It was more of Ron's irresponsibleness at work, jumping before he thought. But, it was a good scheme, Lyle had to admit, one that might give them both a huge boost. As Joan told the story in a sleepy voice, Lyle had noticed his cock hardening, the same way it had when he had saw her stripping under trance at the party. He'd always been attracted to her, and she looked even more gorgeous now, totally relaxed, staring blankly at the still swinging pendant, compliant to all his questions. Lyle took only a moment to make his decision. "Joan, you're feeling very relaxed now, aren't you? In fact, every word I say sends you deeper and deeper into this wonderful relaxation." "Yes..." "Yes, Joan, and you love being this relaxed. You love it. It makes you feel hot inside. Like you feel when you and Ron are together. It makes you feel all hot and excited. Every word I say makes you feel excited, and doing everything I say makes you feel all the more hot and horny, and you want to do everything I say, don't you, Joan?" "Yes.." Joan had a slight smile on her face, her hand caressing her thigh in a way that made Lyle all the more harder. "Joan, will Ron be back soon?" "No..He had to go to the bank..and meeting..not till tonight..Then we leave.." "Good, good. Do everything I say, Joan, and your pleasure can be rewarded. Now, stand up and take off all your clothes." Joan got to her feet, still staring blankly forward. She unbuttoned the front of her dress and slid it off. Undoing her bra, she let her breasts fall free. The sight of those large tits let loose nearly made Lyle come right there, but he held it. Joan slid her panties down her shapely legs and stood naked before him. "Good. Now lie down on the couch, Joan. Lie down, that's right." Joan lay on the couch, waiting for him. Stripping in lightning fashion, Lyle straddled his partner's hypnotized wife and leaned down and kissed her. She answered with more passion than he expected, nearly biting his tongue in half. He pushed down on her, crushing her into the soft confines of the couch. Lyle knew he had to go soon or he'd burst. He slid his lance into her dark pussy and began to pump her. He kneaded her breasts with his hands, playing with them, pinching the nipples and crushing those wonderful tits as much as he could. It made her all the hotter, the feeling in her chest combining with the one in her groin to drive her more and more towards orgasm. She kissed him again, lost in the ecstasy that the hypnotic trance was instilling, along with the great fucking Lyle was giving her. His dick shoved into her pussy one more time, and that was all she could take. She came, a wild orgasm better than any she'd ever had, her cry filling the entire house. Lyle removed his dick, but he wasn't done yet. He slid his hard member in between Joan's breasts, squeezing them around his penis as he shoved back and forth, leaving a sticky trail of semen along her chest. He tickled it around the nipples and the curves, outlining them with his own cum. He finally shoved it into Joan's face. She took it and enthusiastically began to kiss it, rounding her lips around the shaft and tickling the tip with her tongue. She was experienced at this, Lyle could tell, and she was good at it too. She ran her lips up and down the shaft as she licked the base and tip, alternating so that the pleasure was continuous, washing like waves over Lyle.He closed his eyes and let himself come again, his wad blasted into her throat as she sucked at him, not letting his dick go until he was empty and dry... although not for long. An hour later, Lyle left, leaving Joan asleep on the couch with no memories of his visit. He'd left a code word to send her back. He decided to let Ron's little transgression go. After all, he was going to make them some money, and in the end, Lyle came out ahead on the deal. Ron had promised they'd split everything fifty-fifty. Why shouldn't half of his wife be part of the bargain?

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/13485.txt

J.R. Parz

Barbie-Teen Agent, Part 1

"This makes the third girl in a month!" exclaimed the Captain. He looked down at the picture of the pretty high schooler plastered on the front page of the Sterling Gazette. "Get in touch with Doctor Young...tell her I'll be stopping by her office tonight. Also, I need the file on field agent Barbara Presley." Captain Jack Evans sat at his desk studying the contents of Barbara's file. She obviously met the surface requirements. How would she handle the mental aspects? This case would require not only great skills as an agent, and also a very beautiful girl, but also someone who can handle a tremendous change in their life. He knew that he didn't have much time, so, he buzzed Barbara's supervisor: "Sam...get in touch with Barbara Presley. I want her to report to Doctor Young's office tomorrow morning at 0900. Consider this conversation a transfer. Effective tomorrow, she'll be working for me." Jack had met the young female rookie agent only once at her academy graduation. Not only did she stand out for her beauty, but she also placed first in a class of fifty. Pretty impressive considering eighty percent of the class were males. He picked up the phone again. This time he called OSI's deputy director, Steve Austin. "Austin here," a scratchy voice answered. "Steve...it's me, Jack Evans...I need some information." "Hey Jack. Sure. What can I do for you?" "What can you tell me about Barbara Presley." "Gorgeous...absolutely gorgeous. Jamie and I had her over our house on a few occasions." "Besides being gorgeous..." "Well, according to my wife, she's the brightest scenario student she's ever seen. In fact, Jamie said she blew both our scores out of the water. If it weren't for our bionics, she'd probably be the strongest agent OSI would have to date." Jack knew Jamie's and Steve's reputation as being the best field agents OSI ever had. Jamie only taught now at the OSI training facility, while Steve performed a dual role of Deputy Director and occasional field agent. Despite pushing sixty, Steve could still execute. "Steve...have you heard about the abductions in Sterling?" "Very sad situation out there." "Well, this brings the total to ninety-five young teenage girls abducted throughout the United States over the last two years. All white and all pretty. I have no doubt, all alive and living as someone's sex slave. There hasn't been a white slavery ring this big in the history of America. The locals, the state police, and the FBI have all failed to come up any real leads. I've made the decision to send in my best agent as bait. Even with a successful mission, it means altering Barbara's life...I'm concerned how traumatic it will be for her. Could you ask Jamie how she thinks she'll fare psychologically?" "Sounds to me like you'll be paying Jessica a visit." "Tonight, in fact. I know you two go back pretty far...I'll send her your regards." "Yeah...way back. Anyway, let me contact Jamie and I'll call you right back." Jack gazed at the picture of Barbara. She looked a lot like Jessica. Both had blond hair. Both, physically twenty-three years old. Both breathtakingly beautiful. Jack was just about to leave the office when the phone rang. "Evans here." "Jack. Jamie said that Barbara can handle it. She advised not letting her know about the transformation until it's done." Deception wasn't something he enjoyed, but able to do. "Wasn't planning to...Thanks Steve. Later." Jack told his secretary to call Doctor Young: "Tell her I'm on my way."The most interesting finding in the report was that after going through the process, the body's physical development slowed down considerably. In fact, Jessica only aged four months in the two years since regressing. She still sported a healthy, incredibly alive body of a twenty-three-year-old young woman. Jessica remembered the heated discussions regarding who and what the machine would be used on. Given the highly top-secret status of the project, the OSI decided it would maintain absolute control. Captain Jack Evans headed the Operational Department and decided it would serve his purposes perfectly. When Jessica managed to seduce Jack one evening, she had suggested that he try the machine on himself. Jack was in his mid-forties, and although he kept himself in shape, she was sure he felt strange doing it with a girl in her early twenties. Jack knew Jessica before the transformation, but it was hard to look at her in any other way than what she appeared to look like now. He declined her offer. While discussing the case and field agent, Barbara Presley, Jack brought up Steve Austin's name. Jessica smiled. She hadn't seen Colonel Austin in nearly a year. The last time was just a day after her change. Steve visibly reacted, knowing she was eliciting some old memories. She had a brief affair with Steve a couple of years after his plane accident. At the time, she wasn't even aware of his affiliation with the OSI, thinking that he was still in the Air Force. She remembered feeling a bit sad when he married Jamie Somers. They quickly got back on the subject of Barbara. "I want her regressed to a nubile teenager of fifteen...maybe sixteen, depending on her physical development. I want her totally convincing in her role as a sweet high school teen." "Oh, I'm sure she'll be...after she gets over the shock of her regression." "I've been told by more than a few people that she can handle it...now, in looking at your report, you lightly touched on some side effects...any new information?" Jessica almost didn't include this aspect in the report, but just in case information such as this could be helpful in making a decision, she decided it was an issue worth considering. She also knew that by disclosing her heightened sensuality, she'd be opening an open door to her personal life...something she was hoping to avoid. She even spent several hours dedicated to the study of why she would feel this heightened state, but came up with no scientific reason for it. Nonetheless, Jessica's appetite for sex since regressing almost quadrupled. The side effect, if it could actually be contributed to the regression, not only increased her desire for sex, but didn't differentiate either. Jessica, who had nothing but normal heterosexual relationships prior to her transformation, turned bisexual in her experiences. Jessica remembered trying to mentally fight her attraction to a pretty college girl who was interviewing her for her thesis. Jessica never did pursue that particular girl, but during a party one evening, Jessica finally did meet a "lipstick" lesbian. By the time the night was over, Jessica experienced female sex for the first time and it was incredibly satisfying. She still slept with Jack, but not as frequently as before. "No. I'm still very passionate, but like I've said before, it may be due to my new outlook. I mean, look at me...this body was made for...well, you know." Jack looked at Jessica, giving her a smile while commenting: "Well, Jess, I'm hoping that your new sexuality isn't a by-product of the transformation, because if it is, it could distract Barbara...a simple distraction like that could cost her life." "Jack, this is why I need to propose something...listen to what I have to say, before responding." He gave her one of those 'I know what you're about to say' looks. "Barbara is going to be going through a lot of emotions while trying to handle the mission at the same time. I mean, look at what we're planning on doing. We're taking a perfectly healthy female of twenty-five and regressing her to a teenager. Not only that, she may need my help if her sexuality does increase. Who knows what other side effects there may be. Her chemistry is different, and the regression rays may affect her a little differently. And another thing, I obviously can't pass as her mother, but I could pose as her older sister. She'll need a legal guardian. I saw her high school graduation picture, and you'd have to be blind not to notice our resemblance." "Actually, I was hoping you'd volunteer for this mission. You aren't an agent, so, I wasn't going to ask you...but I agree with you. Your support during this mission may save her life. Something that leads me to another point...I'm really worried. Whoever is behind this operation is big-time. They are highly experienced professionals, otherwise they'd be caught by now. I have a feeling if they even suspect anyone's involvement, they would either kill them or turn them into the same thing they've turned the other girls into...remember, Jess, Barbara may be the teenager in this relationship you're about to have, but she's the one that is trained to take risks like this, not you." "I understand the risk and I've done field work before..." Jessica looked at Jack with caring eyes; "Jack...thank you." "Okay, but I don't want you performing any field agent work! You'll play the older sister, period! Set up the Regression Chamber procedure for tomorrow morning. Barbara will be here at 0900. We'll meet in your office and talk for a little while. It will give you a chance to lightly sedate her." IV. When the three of them were seated inside Doctor Young's office, Barbara couldn't get over how young the Doctor was. She must be some sort of genius to have this type of success and reputation at such an early age. They quickly got into the case of the missing girls. Barbara had been following the story on the news, but had no idea that there were close to one hundred girls abducted over a two-year time frame. Barbara knew she couldn't pass for a high school girl, so, she wondered what part she'd play in this case. During the conversation, she sipped a glass of water that was given to her prior to sitting down. Barbara only noticed the lassitude enveloping her seconds before she fell asleep in her chair. V. Captain Evans looked down at Barbara, who was slowly waking up. He thought she was absolutely breathtaking. Even after they covered her up in a white smock, she still oozed the sweetness, the innocence, and sexiness of every adolescent's most erotic wet dream. Her blonde hair now hung all the way down past her ass. Her blue eyes sparkled hypnotically. Her breasts looked full, perky, and baby-fresh. Her body still boasted curves, but had a slim athletic look. Barbara Presley, who would now be called Barbie Preston, appeared to be a sweet innocent young teenager of fifteen years. By this time tomorrow, she'll be enrolled in Sterling High School, as a Freshman. "She's quite the looker...huh," commented a young, sexy voice behind him. Jessica came up beside him to look down at the girl. "Yes...she is. She obviously took well to her physical regression...now I just hope she adjusts just as well, mentally," remarked the Captain. "Any word from ChemLab?" "Yes...and no. Her state prior to her regression came back as very high. Our Barbara here obviously enjoyed her body and enjoyed sex. ChemLab just left an hour ago, so, we're not going to know her state for another fifteen to twenty minutes. With her waking up any second, we'll probably know her state before they do." VI. Barbara's eyes slowly opened...what happened? She appeared to be laying on a stretcher of some sort. It was hard to focus her eyes. She could tell the Captain was here, and the Doctor; "Wh...what happened?" said the sweet voice, not realizing the change in it. "We had to prepare you, physically, for the mission. In about five minutes, you'll be able to sit up." "What did you do to me?" a sleepy young teen voice asked. "My...my voice...what happened to me?" A couple of nurses wheeled in a full-length mirror next to her stretcher, and the Doctor moved over to her side; "Okay...let Jessica help you," stated the Captain. The Doctor placed her hands along her shoulder and left elbow, helping her sit up on the stretcher. While Barbara was easily lifted to the upright position, it still didn't dawn on her that she was much smaller and lighter. She did, however, feel a pleasant tingling sensation at the contact of the Doctor's soft hands lifting her up. Just as she turned her eyes towards the mirror, Barbara heard the Captain say; "Barbara Presley...meet High School student Barbie Preston." Barbara stared in shock. The seconds turned to a minute before she slowly raised her hands up to cup her breasts through her white smock. Her breasts felt smaller...much smaller. She continued gazing at her face. "I'm...I'm a teenager...how?" "The Doctor's invention. In fact, the Doctor isn't really the twenty-three-year-old you see standing there. Tell her, Jess...tell Barbie how old you are." The Doctor looked at Barbara with a smile; "39." Barbara only glanced at the Doctor, quickly going back to her reflection in the mirror. Barbara was quickly regaining her strength back, and with her recovery, she felt her emotions going wacky. Anger, confusion, fear, and a feeling of...arousal? All these emotions played havoc with her teen body as she sat there in a daze. "Barbie...Barbie!" The Captain had to shout the second time. Barbara turned to the Captain, her eyes tearing up. "Remember. You are one of the finest field agents in the OSI."You have been selected for this mission because the experts have made it clear that you can handle it. In fact, out of every female agent in the Department, your success margin almost doubles the runner-up. "Yes, sir," replied Barbara, who added, "I really hate that name Barbie...always have. Is it necessary?" "Yes...Now, in that room over there," the Captain gestured with his hand, "...are some clothes that will fit your new form. Put something on and come back here. I'll give you twenty minutes." Barbara sprung off the stretcher, feeling strange as her feet touched the floor. She seemed so light and much shorter. She went to the room as directed, then closed the door for some privacy. She didn't know it, but the Captain and the Doctor were observing her every move on a computer monitor. Barbara stripped off her white gown while standing in front of a full-length mirror, and again felt the shock at what was staring back at her. She couldn't be more than sixteen! This was all so incredible! It also occurred to her as she continued inspecting her new form that she was rapidly getting turned on, which prompted her hands to caress the contours of her teen body. Her blonde hair was longer now, coming down below her ass. Her face was very pretty, slightly more than she remembered. Then she thought that maybe she took her pretty face for granted before. Her breasts were actually big for her small lean frame, and extremely perky. When she cupped them, the fullness could be felt. Not nearly as large as before, but her touch did send flares of arousal to her pleasure centers. When her thumbs tweaked her nipples, they sprang to attention and another jolt flooded her young pussy. She reached down with her right hand, inserting a finger inside herself. She was wet. It took a mere second to realize she was a virgin, feeling the hymen still intact. The reflection of herself in the mirror, with her left hand rubbing her breasts and her right hand inside her vagina, was a stunning sight. Barbara wanted to continue, but the thought of where she was and how much time she had left to meet the Captain and Doctor, made her stop. Barbara quickly took her finger out, smelling her sweetness, and went over to a small sink. She quickly washed her hands and took a small washcloth, wiping her wetness away. The urge to masturbate was intense, but discipline was one of her strongest traits. She went over to a chair where her clothes were and slipped on some white panties, and then her bra. They must have measured her, because they fit perfectly. She put on a red blouse and then slipped on her skin-tight blue jeans, tucking in her shirt. Socks and sneakers and a red beret to put her long blonde hair in a ponytail. Barbara stood again in silence. She looked like a sweet innocent teenager, but felt like a horny hooker, and wasn't quite sure why she felt this intense arousal building. She mentally put her state in check and left the room to meet the Captain and the Doctor. VII. "Now...the Doctor here will be in the role as your older sister. You'll stay at her place tonight, and you two will study together. Your complete history together is inside this folder," stated the Captain. Jessica watched the reaction of Barbara when the Captain told her this and was pleased when Barbara smiled at her. She was a stunning sight, even dressed. Her mind went back to a half-hour before when she was observing Barbara's self-discovery on the monitor. As Barbara played with her new body, she couldn't help but react to it, and Jack even found himself getting aroused. When they both took stock in each other's reaction, Jack finally mumbled, "Remember to stay professional while inside this building. She'll be staying with you tonight, and based on this report ChemLab just provided us, plus what we are seeing through this monitor, your handling of this vulnerable girl is critical." Jessica read how Barbara's sexual level was now off the scale, higher than hers by a large margin. Jessica knew what her condition made her feel, and given Barbara's condition was even more intense, she wondered how she managed to sit still during this briefing. It would take about a week before her body chemistry would adjust to her new state, and when she did, she'd find herself perpetually horny. Jessica knew that they would inevitably be lovers, but it was important she took their relationship real slow. Barbara's body would be fighting her sexual state throughout the mission, and what little relief she could provide her during their nights together would be essential to the mission. The Captain shook both their hands and reinforced his opinion of Barbara's capabilities. He painted a stronger picture of herself to Barbara for confidence reasons. He told them that during the mission, they were on their own. No contact could be made until the mission was complete. The Captain's last words were, "Whoever we're dealing with here is dangerous and highly professional. Don't assume for a second that a mistake would go undetected...good luck."

Part 1

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/15426.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'll go right by. Any other of your friends you want me to pick up?" "No, just Allison. Cheryl and Susan are walking over. Oh, and Mom called. She's stuck in St. Louis." "I know, we talked too. I'll be home in ten minutes, providing Allison is ready. Bye." "Bye." Allison was ready, running out of the house as soon as I turned into the drive. "Hi, Dr. Lombardi," she said as soon as the car door was closed. "Thanks for the ride." "No problem." I turned to her as I said it, and was rewarded with a wonderful smile. Allison was my favorite of Karen's friends. She was by far the prettiest, stunningly beautiful actually. Much prettier, even, than Karen, and I see Karen through a father's adoring eyes. She was bright and more mature than most fifteen-year-olds. While she had the looks to be a model, she had once told me that she wanted to be a doctor and we had a long talk about the medical profession. I remember being struck with how perceptive her questions were. Even though Allison had been ready, my prediction was way off the mark. It took us twenty-five minutes to get home. The side streets were treacherous, and the car was sliding all over. At one point, I completely lost control and the car slid down a hill sideways. Miraculously, I didn't hit anything and we came to a stop at the bottom. I looked over at Allison to see if she was all right, and her face was covered with a big grin and her eyes flashed with excitement. The fear that always follows a close call in a car disappeared. I laughed and apologized. Then, I put the car back into gear, and we drove the rest of the way without incident, but not without a bit more sliding. When we got home, a disaster was in the making. Domino's would not deliver in the snow, and the girls just had to have pizza. I made the situation worse by calling Karen, "Kitten," my pet name for her, mortifying her in front of her friends. Heroically, I managed to save the day by producing the ingredients for homemade pizza from the grocery bags, and the "Kitten" incident was quickly forgotten. Making the pizza was fun. The girls did most of the work, and I kibitzed and flirted with Karen's friends. I suppose my presence embarrassed Karen a bit because there were a few "Oh, Daddy!"s out of her, but she didn't seem to mind too much. After dinner, the girls disappeared upstairs into Karen's room, and I went into my study to read. My reading was interrupted with the sound of a crash.The girls had been having a pillow fight, prematurely because I had always believed the slumber party pillow fight was supposed to be scheduled after lights out, and Allison had taken a tumble down some stairs. She was sitting on the landing, holding her ankle, tears in her eyes. I delivered the usual rebukes about rough-housing to the assembled girls while I examined Allison's ankle. It didn't appear to be broken, probably just twisted, at worst a sprain. She had full range of motion in the joint, although not without pain. I helped her to stand, and then with her left arm over my shoulders and my right around her waist, I helped her back up the stairs and into my bedroom. She was wearing some kind of perfume; it smelled pleasant. As we moved, I became aware that her left breast was pressed against my rib cage; that was pleasant as well. My hand rested on her hip, and I marveled at her slim waist and the wonderful curve of her hip. Allison sat on the edge of the bed. I took off her shoe and sock and told her to roll up the leg of her jeans so I could put a bandage on it. "I think they are too tight to roll up." I looked, and noticed that they were indeed very tight. They could have been painted on. Her shapely calf was clearly displayed. "All right, then you'll have to take them off." "Take them off? In front of you?" "I'm a doctor. You don't have anything I haven't seen a thousand times already, and don't worry, I won't watch you undress." I went into the bathroom to find an Ace bandage. I gave her some extra time to finish taking off the jeans before emerging from the bathroom. I sat on the floor at her feet and started wrapping the ankle. The skin of her legs was soft, like a child's. The shape of her legs, though, was that of a woman. She sat with her legs slightly spread, and I could see her white, cotton panties which covered the mound of her vulva. A few wisps of hair poked out through the elastic. I glanced up at her face, framed by disheveled, light-brown hair. Her eyes were soft with tears, and she was biting her lower lip against the pain. I felt the blood begin to flow to my penis and the beginnings of an erection. I forced myself to focus on the medical task at hand, to be professional. It had been a long time since I was distracted by a pretty patient, not since I was a resident. Pretty women often distracted me, but not while I was treating them. What made it worse was that she was only fifteen and my daughter's best friend. When I was done with the bandage, I went up into the attic to find the crutches I used after my last skiing accident. By the time I returned, Allison was dressed and trying to hobble about the room. I adjusted the crutches to her height, gave her a large dose of ibuprofen for the pain, and told her to keep weight off of the ankle and to let me know if it started to swell. I got a kiss on the cheek for a reward. The rest of the evening passed uneventfully. The snow kept falling; the predictions had been upped again to eighteen inches. There was the expected giggling and slumber party noises from Karen's room and the TV room, but no one else took a header down the stairs. I had decreed "lights out" at midnight, and no more pillow fights. The talking and giggling continued for some time after that, but I didn't really care. Around one o'clock, I clicked off Conan O'Brien and decided to go to bed. I stopped in the living room and looked out the front window at the snow. The neighborhood was almost unrecognizable. The road had not been plowed yet and the neighbors' cars were just white humps along the side of the road. I heard a noise on the stairs and turned. It was Allison, hopping down the stairs on her good leg, banister in one hand, crutches in the other. "What are you doing up?" I asked. "I came down to get a drink." She moved across the room, stood next to me, and looked out the window. She was wearing a short, white nightgown. It came down to her mid-thigh, her perfect legs extending out of the bottom. The gown was also low cut in the chest, placing her fifteen-year-old breasts on display. They were not large, but were round and firm and perfectly formed. She looked vaguely angelic in the white gown, but like an angel that was about to taste the fruit of the tree of knowledge. "It's beautiful." "It sure is," I replied, not taking my eyes off of her. We stood there for a few moments, Allison looking out the window, and me looking at Allison. Then she turned, looked up at me and smiled. She then leaned over and put her arm around me and her head against my chest. "Thanks for having us over. I'm having a lot of fun, despite the ankle." "You're welcome. I'm always happy to have Karen's friends over." Pleasant as it was, I realized this had gone far enough. I had to stop this before I did something irretrievably stupid. "How about that drink? I think there is some juice in the fridge. We ought to save what's left of the milk for breakfast." After getting Allison some juice and helping her back up the stairs, I went into my bedroom, stripped down to my underwear and went into the bathroom. I looked into the mirror and tried to convince myself that I was normal, that there was nothing wrong with being aroused by a beautiful, fifteen-year-old. She was a young woman, not a child. I didn't do anything to take advantage of her. This was healthy. Well, maybe not healthy, but natural. It did not make me a pedophile, or at least that is what I tried to convince myself of. The next choice would be a cold shower or masturbation. I prescribed the latter. I was already semi-erect, and my cock sprung to full size at the first touch. As I stroked, I imagined that Allison came into the bathroom, wearing that nightgown. Wordlessly, she knelt before me, put her hands on my hips and took me into her mouth. I looked down and I saw her take all of my cock into her mouth. She looked up at me, engaging me with those piercing blue eyes. She let my cock slip out of her mouth, and grasping it around the base, ran her tongue around the head, all the while looking into my eyes. She then smiled and tilted her head to take my balls into her mouth. I ran my finger around my balls, pretending it was her tongue. Then I resumed the stroking of my cock. In my fantasy, she continued sucking for a while, using her tongue expertly along the underside of my cock. Not wanting this to end too quickly, I grasped her head and gently stopped her sucking. I raised her up until she was standing before me; then I leaned down and kissed her. She responded eagerly, sliding her tongue between my lips. As we kissed, I ran my hands under the nightgown and along her body. Her skin was soft, but firm. Her belly was flat, smooth and taut, baby fat gone, adult fat yet to come. I ran my hands up and grasped her breast. I ran my fingers across the nipple, feeling it harden under my touch. Allison shuddered when I touched the nipple and broke our kiss. "That feels wonderful, Dr. Lombardi." "You just sucked my cock. You'd better call me Alan." "OK, Alan." "Allison, I'm not sure..." "Alan?" "Yes." "I want you to fuck me," she said, boring a hole into my head with those blue eyes. "Are you sure?" "Yes, Alan. I want you, more than anything." I led her into the bedroom, and lifted off her nightgown, tossing it aside. She stood before me, half girl-half woman, naked and beautiful. Her breasts, small and perfect, capped with erect nipples. Her smooth stomach. Her amazingly thin waist and the gentle curve of her hips. The wisps of hair that covered her mons. We kissed again; this time she was aggressive, shoving her tongue deep into my mouth and scratching my chest with her nails. We fell onto the bed, the fall breaking our embrace. I started kissing her throat, and moved down from there until I reached her breasts. I took one, then the other, into my mouth, at first sucking and then twirling my tongue around her nipple. Then I slid further down, past her navel, until I was between her legs and that sweet-sour musk filled my nostrils. I licked, tentatively at first, up and down her labia. She was already slick. I tried a quick stab of my tongue at her clitoris. She yelped and clamped her thighs around my ears. I looked up and she looked down. Her blue eyes, glazed over, tried in vain to lock onto mine. "That feels wonderful, Alan. No one has ever done that to me before." I smiled and continued my work until she was shaking, violently shoving her hips into my face. I moved back on top of her and kissed her deeply. She broke the kiss and took my earlobe into her mouth, tugging it with her teeth. "Fuck me, Alan. I want you inside me," she rasped into my ear. I positioned myself at the entrance to her vagina, and slowly pushed forward, not wanting to hurt her. She was tight, tighter than any woman I had ever felt, but I entered smoothly. I wondered if she were a virgin; I could not tell. The doubt excited me more than if I knew she was. Allison tossed her head back, eyes closed, and moaned. I started thrusting, and she began gyrating her hips, matching my thrusts. She brought her head forward and opened her eyes. Her blue stare had a fiendish intensity as she stared deep into mine, bucking her hips all the while. I could not hold back much longer. I closed my eyes and started thrusting violently. Our movements mismatched, I slid out of her. I fumbled to try and reinsert myself, but she was quicker.She darted down and again took my cock into her mouth. I shot my load all over the bathroom tile, but in my mind's eye it was down Allison's throat. She swallowed it all, except for a drop of semen which ran down the side of her chin. She brought her hand to her face, cleaned the semen off her chin, and then licked her finger clean, all the while staring up at me with those eyes of hers. I cleaned up the tile and went to bed. In the morning, the girls fixed their own breakfast; then three of the girls went sledding. Allison stayed behind because of her ankle. I headed out into the snow to shovel the driveway. It needed it, and I did not completely trust myself in the house alone with Allison. There was a lot of snow, but it was dry and light. It took me about two hours to clear the driveway and path, and by that time my lower back was stiff and burning. I really should buy a long-handled snow shovel. Once inside, I shed my boots and coat and realized that I was soaking wet with sweat. A critical choice faced me, a shower or lunch? Hunger won out. I quickly got out of my wet clothes, changing into sweat pants and a T-shirt and headed into the kitchen to make a sandwich. In the kitchen I dropped a knife, Allison must have heard me moaning as I tried to bend over and pick it up; the pain in my back was excruciating. She hobbled into the kitchen. "What's the matter Dr. L?" "Just a stiff back from shoveling." "Would you like a massage? I give them to my Dad all the time. I'm pretty good at it." "No, thanks. It'll be better in about an hour." "Come on. You fixed my ankle, let me fix your back. It'll feel great." That was what I was afraid of, but she kept pleading, and finally I relented. I had a day bed in my study that was the closest thing to a massage table in the house. Allison led the way. We must have been quite a sight with her limp and my gasps of pain with each step. I lay face down on the day bed with my hands folded under my head. I closed my eyes and Allison climbed up and straddled me, her bottom lightly resting on mine. Allison started in on my shoulders. "Oh, you are really tense. All knotted up. Too bad I don't have any massage oil, but I'll have to make do." She leaned forward so she could bear down harder. Her hair hung down and tickled the back of my neck, and I could feel her breath on my cheek. I could also feel a raging hard-on developing. Gradually, she moved her ministrations lower, working my shoulder blades and down my sides. "You are kind of sweaty." "Sorry, it's from the shoveling. I guess I should have showered first." "Don't worry. I don't mind. In fact, it's kind of sexy." She giggled. "I'm sorry. I guess I shouldn't have said that." "Just massage. No comments from the peanut gallery." I didn't know which felt better, the relief from the back pain or her hands kneading my flesh and her hot breath on the back of my neck. Also, every time she shifted her weight, her crotch rubbed back and forth across my butt. My penis screamed for relief, but it was pressed hard against my stomach and got none. Allison got off the couch, moved behind me, and started massaging my legs. I was glad that my penis was pressed up against my stomach and not extending down into one of my pant legs for her to find. "Roll over and I'll do your front." That I could not do. In my loose fitting sweat pants, I would pitch a circus tent. There had been nothing overtly sexual about her massage, but my penis felt like it was at least an inch longer than it usually got. "Thanks, Allison, but no. My back is one hundred percent better. I'll just lay here and try to nap." "OK, Dr. L. See you later." I managed to avoid Allison for the rest of the day. The other two girls left around three, and Allison's parents came by to pick her up around four o'clock. Before she left, she sought me out to thank me for "fixing" her ankle and having her over. I remember looking into her eyes as she thanked me and realizing that her eyes were brown. I had thought they were blue. I guess I was not that observant. It disturbed me since I had been looking at her all weekend. At about eight o'clock on Sunday, I heard a car in the drive. I walked into the foyer and Catherine, my wife, was coming through the door. She set her bags down, and I took her into my arms and kissed her hard. "Well, somebody missed me," she said when we came up for air. We kissed again. "Oh, gross! PDA," said Karen behind us. "God, my own parents slobbering over one another. You're worse than the teenagers in school." "It's nice to see you, too, Dear," replied my wife. "I'm going over to Cheryl's to watch a video," announced Karen. "School night. Be back by ten," reminded Catherine. "But, it's eight now. The video won't be over by ten." "Ten thirty," I said. Karen sighed, and left, kissing her mom on the cheek as she left. "You're getting generous in your old age," joked Catherine. "Generous? I am being completely self-serving. I just bought us another thirty minutes of being alone together." "Oh, I see what you're up to. Poor man. Cooped up in a house filled with, how did you put it, 'nubile, young girls.' No wonder you're so eager. Let me get cleaned up. I have a surprise for you. Meet me in the bedroom in twenty minutes." Twenty minutes later, I was lying on the bed and Catherine emerged from the bathroom. She was wearing a low-cut, white nightgown that came down to the middle of her thigh. "Believe it or not, there is a Victoria's Secret store in the St. Louis airport." She spun around, modeling it for me, not realizing that I had seen it just last night. It fit Catherine better, though. It was designed for a woman with larger breasts, and Cath filled it out nicely. Somehow, it did not look angelic on her; it looked damned hot. She slid in bed next to me. As we kissed, I ran the back of my hand along her cheek. Her skin was soft, but not firm like a teenager's; it was yielding instead. She took my finger into her mouth, sucking on it and looking up into my eyes. I then realized that those piercing, blue eyes about which I had fantasized did not belong to Allison; they belonged to my Catherine. END

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/13817.txt

Spoonbender

Shields

"Shields down to 5 percent, commander," screamed the Weapons officer. "Engine room, divert more power to the shields." "I'm sorry, Commander. The inversion chamber has been damaged. I don't think Aaaaaaaaaaaargh...." There was a crash, and the ship shook and tumbled through the sky like a leaf before the inertial stabilizer dampers kicked back online. "Engine room, damage report? Where are you, Sneed?" The voice sounded faint. "He's dead, sir. They're all dead. We're all going to die." Danajane was terrified. What had she done to deserve this? She was a scientist, not a fighter - a very junior geological mapper, and this was her first tour of duty. This was supposed to be a simple surveying expedition, mapping out the geology of a promising-looking planet which, hopefully, could be used to provide much-needed colonization space for a burgeoning human population. Then came the signal for them to return to Station Theta. The peace talks with the Morgons had broken down, and rumor had it that their 6th battlefleet was in this quadrant. So they had dropped their survey probes and hightailed it. They were only two light-years away from the station when, one by one, the entire Morgon battlefleet had materialized. In front of them, behind them, around them. They had fought the good fight, but were hopelessly outgunned by the strato-destroyers. Suddenly, there was a huge crash and a rolling wave of flames as the doors disintegrated under the rays of the Morgon firethrowers. Danajane clasped her hands over her head and sank to the floor, screaming, as the battle raged around her. "How many prisoners?" "One?" Harkass raised his left mandible. "Just one?" "They fought hard, Sir, and there were no other females on board." "Bring her to me," Harkass snapped. She was paraded, shaking and terrified, in front of him. He looked down at her and then buzzed closer. She had a small, compact body, with a fresh, radiant beauty. A fresh peach at the peak of perfection. But to his eyes, she was puny and weak and would be hard-pressed to withstand the rigors of her forthcoming servitude. "So, little one, what is your name?" All she could hear was a series of grunts, whistles, and pops, none of which were very intelligible. "I'm a scientist, not a fighter. Please don't hurt me." "Get the translation phones, Skark. How these puny creatures ever hope to colonize space when they can't even perform simple translations is beyond me." They placed the phones on her head. They were a bit awkward, as they had been designed for races with three ear cavities, but they sufficed. "Who are you?" Karkass asked again. "My name is Danajane, and I am a scientist from the survey vessel..." "SILENCE. I am not interested in where you are from, just what you are. Are you a virgin?" "What? Er, I, er, why do you want to know?" Missilwhips are very effective. Designed for herding the stubborn, thick-skinned, and tempestuous missilcows, they proved devastating across the backside of a stubborn little human female. Danajane screamed piteously as the formic acid from the million little needles punctured her flesh. It was like being stung by a thousand jellyfish at once. "I am getting angry. Now, are you a virgin?" "Yes," she whimpered. A collective sigh went up over the amorphous blob that formed the bridge crew of the Morgon destroyer. "Strip her." "No, please," screamed Danajane, fearing the worst, even though she knew that Morgons bred by osmosis. A single, controlled shot from the firethrower burned her clothes off, without so much as singeing a single hair on her body. Harkass gazed at her nearly nude crotch. Most of the female captives had thickets of hair down there, but now he had one with just a small clump of fiery red tufts to match the blaze of her head. Fire red, it seemed appropriate somehow. This one can be the new bridge shield. He was looking forward to thinking about her when he engaged the puny galactic fleet they had dispatched against him. "Bridge forward one position," shouted Harkass. A cloud of pink gas descended on her and bore her away. The other females looked exhausted. They hung in their harnesses, covered in sweat and gasping for air. Danajane was quickly maneuvered into position to match that of the other females in the long, dismal corridor. Her arms were strapped onto poles that stuck out from the clammy wall of the ship, and her backside was positioned on a U-shaped seat. Then her legs were bent down and strapped at the thigh, knee, and ankle, leaving her spread wide in humiliating shame. A tube was positioned just in front of her mouth. They then spent some time lining up a bulky-looking machine over her body. Finally, they strapped her waist firmly to the side of the ship. The pink cloud dissipated, and she hung in her straps. One by one, the dazed women regained their composure. Then the one opposite raised her head and regarded Danajane. "So you are the result of the fight, hey?" "Yes, I'm Danajane. What are you - er, we all - doing here?" "I am Firstgun Top, formally known as Seethmantrica. What is your position?" "What do you mean?" "What did they say before you were brought down here?" "Er, 'Bridge forward one position,' I think." "So you will be a busy girl. A very busy girl. You are not a virgin, are you?" Danajane blushed. "Er, yes. Why does everyone want to know?" One of the other women laughed, a bitter, ironic cackle. "It is Harkass's Joke, putting a virgin into Bridge Forward one. He knows she will be in pain; it strengthens the shield." "Don't mind Cargocover two. She's been here too long." "Er, Seethmantrica, can I ask you a question?" "Don't call us by our previous names; it is forbidden. I am Firstgun Top, and you are Bridge Forward One. Do you understand?" "Yes?" "So what is your question?" "Why are we here?" "A good question, Bridge Forward One. We are supplying a very valuable commodity for the Morgons. You see, they need a certain compound in order for their shields to be effective. They searched the universe for it, then, by chance, they found a unique source of that compound, which was available in liberal quantities when the conditions were right. They needed the compound for use in their continuing war with the Quageelers. Which is why they were bothering to negotiate with the Humans at all. They had a basic understanding between the two species, but then the talks broke down because they couldn't agree on the quantity of the compound generators that were to be supplied." "Has this compound got anything to do with why we're here?" "It has everything to do with why we're here." "Why? What is it?" "Pussyjuice," said Seethmantrica. "Do you have them on scanners?" "Yes, Commander Harkass." "Composition?" "Forty-two vessels, of which 19 are Strato-class destroyers." "Good, then we will have a good fight today." Briefly, he thought of Red, then he gave the order. "Raise Shields." "What's happening?" screamed the terrified girl as the clanging of the alarm reverberated through the ship. "You'll see," cackled Cargocover two. Danajane tugged at her straps when she felt the machine between her legs suddenly throb into life. She looked around, searching frantically for some escape. She noticed that most of the girls were looking at her. Seethmantrica had her eyes closed in concentration. Suddenly, they snapped open. "Relax, Bridge Forward One. It will be easier." The probe rammed into Danajane, sundering her carefully hoarded virginity like paper. It was stiff and rough, like a very hard sponge.It lingered for a brief moment, then it started pumping frantically. Danajane twisted and turned as best as she could in the bondage, but the probe was brutal and relentless, pounding away at the center of her being as it tried to draw her precious fluids from her and into the shield mechanism. Meanwhile, the massage units kicked in, massaging every part of her body with warm fur. Her breasts received the most attention as they were gently kneaded while the nipples were teasingly sucked. Wildly, she looked around and saw that most of the girls were similarly engaged. Soon, their moans of pain were replaced by moans of lust as the machines did their work. A fire started to build in her belly. Onward and upward, it roared until it seemed like her body could contain it no longer, and she orgasmed in a welter of juices. The bridge took two hits simultaneously. The shield value dropped alarmingly. Deep, deep down in the bowels of the ship, the young girl writhed in hopeless lust as the probe doubled, then tripled, its speed. Her head shook, whipping her hair backwards and forwards across her sweaty red face. Her feet drummed a tattoo as the orgasm hit, creating a white hot supernova of pure ecstasy. The machine was rewarded with a gout of precious cream, and the shield value slipped up by ten percent. The probe thundered on. The battle raged for hours, with the ponderous fighting ships pounding each other like drunken bare-knuckle boxers. Finally, the Morgons started to yield as one by one, their shields lost their effectiveness or, in some cases, died completely. Eventually, Harkass called off the fight, and his ships cloaked and hyperspaced out. He wasn't worried about the battle. There would be others, and he would be better prepared next time. He'd captured nearly two hundred new shield generators to replace those too worn out or sick to provide adequate cover. These he left behind to be integrated back with their species. Just as he engaged the drive, he glanced up at the bridge forward one shield indicator. It still read 100 percent. He clapped his spartucles together. He was looking forward to testing her in the many great battles to come.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/7863.txt

Rebecca A.

Marcia and Me

"You have great skin," Marcia said to me when the song ended. I looked over at her quizzically. We'd been lying on her living room floor listening to a CD, both a little exhausted from her attempts to teach me to dance earlier in the afternoon, and although I'd been staring at the ceiling while the song was playing, she'd obviously been looking me over. I blushed. "You're so lucky," she continued. "I spend all my time cleaning mine, and I still can't get it to look like that. And you're a boy." It wasn't like Marcia Wilson was the ugliest girl in the neighborhood. She'd had about three pimples the whole time I'd known her. That was about three years, since Marcia had moved in next door. I was twelve then, she was fourteen, and at first it seemed like we had nothing in common. I was a kid compared to her worldly adolescence. Her brother Rob was a year older than me, but he was a jock and he regarded me with some disdain. He and I definitely had less in common. I thought Marcia was smart and beautiful - more so as she got older. Her mother and my mother became friends, and so from time to time one or the other of us would go next door to find our moms and pass on phone messages or tell them we were going out or something while our mothers yakked half the day. That was when Marcia and I discovered we had similar tastes in music, and started swapping CDs and tapes and spending time together sharing whatever either of us had bought recently. Not that I bought anything; it was all Marcia's contribution. Mom and I weren't doing too well since Dad had left, and even though he still sent some money, I got the impression from Mom that it was irregular and really only barely covered the mortgage, and when she got retrenched from her job, her savings were pretty much all we had to go on. Marcia's parents were rich, or so it seemed to me. Their house was easily the biggest in the neighborhood. It seemed Mrs. Wilson was always off shopping, sometimes taking Marcia with her and returning with more new clothes than I'd ever seen. Marcia's clothes wouldn't fit into the closet in her room. She had so many they also filled the huge closet in the spare bedroom they had. Even her brother Rob had more clothes than I'd ever seen, which was pretty funny for a guy his age. From what I could tell, Mrs. Wilson was worse; Marcia told me the walk-in closet in her parents' room had barely any room for her father's things at all. "Well," I said, "I'm younger than you, I guess my skin will get worse in a year or so." I decided to change the subject and got up to put on the new Bjork CD, one of Marcia's favorites. I was a bit sensitive about the fact that I hadn't really reached puberty yet. Fine hair had only just begun to show on my legs and around my genitals, but that was about all that had happened. Mom bought me a razor for my fifteenth birthday, but I think that was more a symbolic thing or something; I hadn't needed to use it yet. My skin was, as Marcia had said a few moments ago, smooth as a five-year-old's. Strangely enough, I wasn't really in a hurry to go through all the changes that were in store for me. I had noticed in the locker rooms at school the things that had happened to the other guys in my year, and some of them seemed pretty scary, or at least uncomfortable. I couldn't imagine myself ever looking like that, though I knew I eventually would. I guessed that when it happened, the guys would start being a little kinder to me and not tease me about my size and stuff so much. I didn't really get on too well with many of them, or really any of them - in fact, Marcia was easily my best friend, even if she did come up with some harebrained schemes that sometimes got us both into trouble. Mom had commented a couple of times over the last year or so that I didn't seem terribly happy. She was pretty perceptive. I hadn't really been able to figure it out myself, but every now and again I wondered why it was that life just didn't feel right. It wasn't just school, it was... well, a lot of stuff. Lack of confidence or something, I guessed. I didn't say anything to Mom about these feelings, though, and I never told her how much I hated school. I never liked to tell her stuff that would worry her.

Chapter 1. Saturday.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/7079.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'll go right by. Any other of your friends you want me to pick up?" "No, just Allison. Cheryl and Susan are walking over. Oh, and Mom called. She's stuck in St. Louis." "I know, we talked too. I'll be home in ten minutes, providing Allison is ready. Bye." "Bye." Allison was ready, running out of the house as soon as I turned into the drive. "Hi, Dr. Lombardi," she said as soon as the car door was closed. "Thanks for the ride." "No problem." I turned to her as I said it, and was rewarded with a wonderful smile. Allison was my favorite of Karen's friends. She was by far the prettiest, stunningly beautiful actually. Much prettier, even, than Karen, and I see Karen through a father's adoring eyes. She was bright and more mature than most fifteen-year-olds. While she had the looks to be a model, she had once told me that she wanted to be a doctor and we had a long talk about the medical profession. I remember being struck with how perceptive her questions were. Even though Allison had been ready, my prediction was way off the mark. It took us twenty-five minutes to get home. The side streets were treacherous, and the car was sliding all over. At one point, I completely lost control and the car slid down a hill sideways. Miraculously, I didn't hit anything and we came to a stop at the bottom. I looked over at Allison to see if she was all right, and her face was covered with a big grin and her eyes flashed with excitement. The fear that always follows a close call in a car disappeared. I laughed and apologized. Then, I put the car back into gear, and we drove the rest of the way without incident, but not without a bit more sliding. When we got home, a disaster was in the making. Domino's would not deliver in the snow, and the girls just had to have pizza. I made the situation worse by calling Karen, "Kitten," my pet name for her, mortifying her in front of her friends. Heroically, I managed to save the day by producing the ingredients for homemade pizza from the grocery bags, and the "Kitten" incident was quickly forgotten. Making the pizza was fun. The girls did most of the work, and I kibitzed and flirted with Karen's friends. I suppose my presence embarrassed Karen a bit because there were a few "Oh, Daddy!"s out of her, but she didn't seem to mind too much. After dinner, the girls disappeared upstairs into Karen's room, and I went into my study to read. My reading was interrupted with the sound of a crash.The girls had been having a pillow fight, prematurely because I had always believed the slumber party pillow fight was supposed to be scheduled after lights out, and Allison had taken a tumble down some stairs. She was sitting on the landing, holding her ankle, tears in her eyes. I delivered the usual rebukes about rough-housing to the assembled girls while I examined Allison's ankle. It didn't appear to be broken, probably just twisted, at worst a sprain. She had full range of motion in the joint, although not without pain. I helped her to stand, and then with her left arm over my shoulders and my right around her waist, I helped her back up the stairs and into my bedroom. She was wearing some kind of perfume; it smelled pleasant. As we moved, I became aware that her left breast was pressed against my rib cage; that was pleasant as well. My hand rested on her hip, and I marveled at her slim waist and the wonderful curve of her hip. Allison sat on the edge of the bed. I took off her shoe and sock and told her to roll up the leg of her jeans so I could put a bandage on it. "I think they are too tight to roll up." I looked, and noticed that they were indeed very tight. They could have been painted on. Her shapely calf was clearly displayed. "All right, then you'll have to take them off." "Take them off? In front of you?" "I'm a doctor. You don't have anything I haven't seen a thousand times already, and don't worry, I won't watch you undress." I went into the bathroom to find an Ace bandage. I gave her some extra time to finish taking off the jeans before emerging from the bathroom. I sat on the floor at her feet and started wrapping the ankle. The skin of her legs was soft, like a child's. The shape of her legs, though, was that of a woman. She sat with her legs slightly spread, and I could see her white, cotton panties which covered the mound of her vulva. A few wisps of hair poked out through the elastic. I glanced up at her face, framed by disheveled, light-brown hair. Her eyes were soft with tears, and she was biting her lower lip against the pain. I felt the blood begin to flow to my penis and the beginnings of an erection. I forced myself to focus on the medical task at hand, to be professional. It had been a long time since I was distracted by a pretty patient, not since I was a resident. Pretty women often distracted me, but not while I was treating them. What made it worse was that she was only fifteen and my daughter's best friend. When I was done with the bandage, I went up into the attic to find the crutches I used after my last skiing accident. By the time I returned, Allison was dressed and trying to hobble about the room. I adjusted the crutches to her height, gave her a large dose of ibuprofen for the pain, and told her to keep weight off of the ankle and to let me know if it started to swell. I got a kiss on the cheek for a reward. The rest of the evening passed uneventfully. The snow kept falling; the predictions had been upped again to eighteen inches. There was the expected giggling and slumber party noises from Karen's room and the TV room, but no one else took a header down the stairs. I had decreed "lights out" at midnight, and no more pillow fights. The talking and giggling continued for some time after that, but I didn't really care. Around one o'clock, I clicked off Conan O'Brien and decided to go to bed. I stopped in the living room and looked out the front window at the snow. The neighborhood was almost unrecognizable. The road had not been plowed yet and the neighbors' cars were just white humps along the side of the road. I heard a noise on the stairs and turned. It was Allison, hopping down the stairs on her good leg, banister in one hand, crutches in the other. "What are you doing up?" I asked. "I came down to get a drink." She moved across the room, stood next to me, and looked out the window. She was wearing a short, white nightgown. It came down to her mid-thigh, her perfect legs extending out of the bottom. The gown was also low cut in the chest, placing her fifteen-year-old breasts on display. They were not large, but were round and firm and perfectly formed. She looked vaguely angelic in the white gown, but like an angel that was about to taste the fruit of the tree of knowledge. "It's beautiful." "It sure is," I replied, not taking my eyes off of her. We stood there for a few moments, Allison looking out the window, and me looking at Allison. Then she turned, looked up at me and smiled. She then leaned over and put her arm around me and her head against my chest. "Thanks for having us over. I'm having a lot of fun, despite the ankle." "You're welcome. I'm always happy to have Karen's friends over." Pleasant as it was, I realized this had gone far enough. I had to stop this before I did something irretrievably stupid. "How about that drink? I think there is some juice in the fridge. We ought to save what's left of the milk for breakfast." After getting Allison some juice and helping her back up the stairs, I went into my bedroom, stripped down to my underwear and went into the bathroom. I looked into the mirror and tried to convince myself that I was normal, that there was nothing wrong with being aroused by a beautiful, fifteen-year-old. She was a young woman, not a child. I didn't do anything to take advantage of her. This was healthy. Well, maybe not healthy, but natural. It did not make me a pedophile, or at least that is what I tried to convince myself of. The next choice would be a cold shower or masturbation. I prescribed the latter. I was already semi-erect, and my cock sprung to full size at the first touch. As I stroked, I imagined that Allison came into the bathroom, wearing that nightgown. Wordlessly, she knelt before me, put her hands on my hips and took me into her mouth. I looked down and I saw her take all of my cock into her mouth. She looked up at me, engaging me with those piercing blue eyes. She let my cock slip out of her mouth, and grasping it around the base, ran her tongue around the head, all the while looking into my eyes. She then smiled and tilted her head to take my balls into her mouth. I ran my finger around my balls, pretending it was her tongue. Then I resumed the stroking of my cock. In my fantasy, she continued sucking for a while, using her tongue expertly along the underside of my cock. Not wanting this to end too quickly, I grasped her head and gently stopped her sucking. I raised her up until she was standing before me; then I leaned down and kissed her. She responded eagerly, sliding her tongue between my lips. As we kissed, I ran my hands under the nightgown and along her body. Her skin was soft, but firm. Her belly was flat, smooth and taut, baby fat gone, adult fat yet to come. I ran my hands up and grasped her breast. I ran my fingers across the nipple, feeling it harden under my touch. Allison shuddered when I touched the nipple and broke our kiss. "That feels wonderful, Dr. Lombardi." "You just sucked my cock. You'd better call me Alan." "OK, Alan." "Allison, I'm not sure..." "Alan?" "Yes." "I want you to fuck me," she said, boring a hole into my head with those blue eyes. "Are you sure?" "Yes, Alan. I want you, more than anything." I led her into the bedroom, and lifted off her nightgown, tossing it aside. She stood before me, half girl-half woman, naked and beautiful. Her breasts, small and perfect, capped with erect nipples. Her smooth stomach. Her amazingly thin waist and the gentle curve of her hips. The wisps of hair that covered her mons. We kissed again; this time she was aggressive, shoving her tongue deep into my mouth and scratching my chest with her nails. We fell onto the bed, the fall breaking our embrace. I started kissing her throat, and moved down from there until I reached her breasts. I took one, then the other, into my mouth, at first sucking and then twirling my tongue around her nipple. Then I slid further down, past her navel, until I was between her legs and that sweet-sour musk filled my nostrils. I licked, tentatively at first, up and down her labia. She was already slick. I tried a quick stab of my tongue at her clitoris. She yelped and clamped her thighs around my ears. I looked up and she looked down. Her blue eyes, glazed over, tried in vain to lock onto mine. "That feels wonderful, Alan. No one has ever done that to me before." I smiled and continued my work until she was shaking, violently shoving her hips into my face. I moved back on top of her and kissed her deeply. She broke the kiss and took my earlobe into her mouth, tugging it with her teeth. "Fuck me, Alan. I want you inside me," she rasped into my ear. I positioned myself at the entrance to her vagina, and slowly pushed forward, not wanting to hurt her. She was tight, tighter than any woman I had ever felt, but I entered smoothly. I wondered if she were a virgin; I could not tell. The doubt excited me more than if I knew she was. Allison tossed her head back, eyes closed, and moaned. I started thrusting, and she began gyrating her hips, matching my thrusts. She brought her head forward and opened her eyes. Her blue stare had a fiendish intensity as she stared deep into mine, bucking her hips all the while. I could not hold back much longer. I closed my eyes and started thrusting violently. Our movements mismatched, I slid out of her. I fumbled to try and reinsert myself, but she was quicker.She darted down and again took my cock into her mouth. I shot my load all over the bathroom tile, but in my mind's eye it was down Allison's throat. She swallowed it all, except for a drop of semen which ran down the side of her chin. She brought her hand to her face, cleaned the semen off her chin, and then licked her finger clean, all the while staring up at me with those eyes of hers. I cleaned up the tile and went to bed. In the morning, the girls fixed their own breakfast; then three of the girls went sledding. Allison stayed behind because of her ankle. I headed out into the snow to shovel the driveway. It needed it, and I did not completely trust myself in the house alone with Allison. There was a lot of snow, but it was dry and light. It took me about two hours to clear the driveway and path, and by that time my lower back was stiff and burning. I really should buy a long-handled snow shovel. Once inside, I shed my boots and coat and realized that I was soaking wet with sweat. A critical choice faced me, a shower or lunch? Hunger won out. I quickly got out of my wet clothes, changing into sweat pants and a T-shirt and headed into the kitchen to make a sandwich. In the kitchen I dropped a knife, Allison must have heard me moaning as I tried to bend over and pick it up; the pain in my back was excruciating. She hobbled into the kitchen. "What's the matter Dr. L?" "Just a stiff back from shoveling." "Would you like a massage? I give them to my Dad all the time. I'm pretty good at it." "No, thanks. It'll be better in about an hour." "Come on. You fixed my ankle, let me fix your back. It'll feel great." That was what I was afraid of, but she kept pleading, and finally I relented. I had a day bed in my study that was the closest thing to a massage table in the house. Allison led the way. We must have been quite a sight with her limp and my gasps of pain with each step. I lay face down on the day bed with my hands folded under my head. I closed my eyes and Allison climbed up and straddled me, her bottom lightly resting on mine. Allison started in on my shoulders. "Oh, you are really tense. All knotted up. Too bad I don't have any massage oil, but I'll have to make do." She leaned forward so she could bear down harder. Her hair hung down and tickled the back of my neck, and I could feel her breath on my cheek. I could also feel a raging hard-on developing. Gradually, she moved her ministrations lower, working my shoulder blades and down my sides. "You are kind of sweaty." "Sorry, it's from the shoveling. I guess I should have showered first." "Don't worry. I don't mind. In fact, it's kind of sexy." She giggled. "I'm sorry. I guess I shouldn't have said that." "Just massage. No comments from the peanut gallery." I didn't know which felt better, the relief from the back pain or her hands kneading my flesh and her hot breath on the back of my neck. Also, every time she shifted her weight, her crotch rubbed back and forth across my butt. My penis screamed for relief, but it was pressed hard against my stomach and got none. Allison got off the couch, moved behind me, and started massaging my legs. I was glad that my penis was pressed up against my stomach and not extending down into one of my pant legs for her to find. "Roll over and I'll do your front." That I could not do. In my loose fitting sweat pants, I would pitch a circus tent. There had been nothing overtly sexual about her massage, but my penis felt like it was at least an inch longer than it usually got. "Thanks, Allison, but no. My back is one hundred percent better. I'll just lay here and try to nap." "OK, Dr. L. See you later." I managed to avoid Allison for the rest of the day. The other two girls left around three, and Allison's parents came by to pick her up around four o'clock. Before she left, she sought me out to thank me for "fixing" her ankle and having her over. I remember looking into her eyes as she thanked me and realizing that her eyes were brown. I had thought they were blue. I guess I was not that observant. It disturbed me since I had been looking at her all weekend. At about eight o'clock on Sunday, I heard a car in the drive. I walked into the foyer and Catherine, my wife, was coming through the door. She set her bags down, and I took her into my arms and kissed her hard. "Well, somebody missed me," she said when we came up for air. We kissed again. "Oh, gross! PDA," said Karen behind us. "God, my own parents slobbering over one another. You're worse than the teenagers in school." "It's nice to see you, too, Dear," replied my wife. "I'm going over to Cheryl's to watch a video," announced Karen. "School night. Be back by ten," reminded Catherine. "But, it's eight now. The video won't be over by ten." "Ten thirty," I said. Karen sighed, and left, kissing her mom on the cheek as she left. "You're getting generous in your old age," joked Catherine. "Generous? I am being completely self-serving. I just bought us another thirty minutes of being alone together." "Oh, I see what you're up to. Poor man. Cooped up in a house filled with, how did you put it, 'nubile, young girls.' No wonder you're so eager. Let me get cleaned up. I have a surprise for you. Meet me in the bedroom in twenty minutes." Twenty minutes later, I was lying on the bed and Catherine emerged from the bathroom. She was wearing a low-cut, white nightgown that came down to the middle of her thigh. "Believe it or not, there is a Victoria's Secret store in the St. Louis airport." She spun around, modeling it for me, not realizing that I had seen it just last night. It fit Catherine better, though. It was designed for a woman with larger breasts, and Cath filled it out nicely. Somehow, it did not look angelic on her; it looked damned hot. She slid in bed next to me. As we kissed, I ran the back of my hand along her cheek. Her skin was soft, but not firm like a teenager's; it was yielding instead. She took my finger into her mouth, sucking on it and looking up into my eyes. I then realized that those piercing, blue eyes about which I had fantasized did not belong to Allison; they belonged to my Catherine. END

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/14034.txt

James Bellamy

Grandma's Story

"Oh, good grief, Jeff, I'm too old to think about anything like that," I said with feigned shock and a laugh. But the thought did linger in my mind for a few minutes. Even though I've been a widow for fifteen years and am getting painfully close to sixty years old, I still have occasional sexual thoughts and I still have the vanity for keeping my appearance under some sort of control. I like to dress well and I would like to think that some men think I still have some attractive features. Jeff is the idol of my life these days. He is my 28-year-old grandson who has lived with me during his senior year in high school and more recently while attending college for his advanced degrees. Our relationship took on an even deeper relationship when I found some of his erotic books and magazines and he caught me looking through them. That led to a discussion of sexuality and we have confided in each other ever since. We have found it interesting to read and compare our impressions of the books "the Story of O", "Lady Chatterley's Lover", "The Pearl" and many other historical and more recent erotic writings, art and photographs. He had just suggested that for my upcoming birthday, that he invite some of his friends home for what I can only term by the coarse title of Gang Bang. Shocking, of course, and he wouldn't have opened if it had not come up jokingly in some of our conversations. Especially those which have taken place over a glass or two of wine, late at night after he has returned from a date. The ball was in my court. I was thinking that in fact it might be just what I would like inspire of the fact that it was outrageous. I was having the old "you only live once" and "life is getting short" arguments with myself. When he brought up what I wanted for my birthday again, he said, again jokingly, "unless you have decided to take me up on my original offer?" Taking a deep breath, I replied, "well, now that you bring the subject up, maybe I have." "At least maybe we could have them over for a game of poker, or something like that," I chickened out at the last moment and softened it a bit. "Oh, well, maybe so," he mused, looking at me intensely, as I averted my eyes and then returned his gaze. Then with a big reassuring smile, "I'm not sure you'll be able to fight them off, though, the way you look!" "Do you think it would be OK?" I said seeking some reassurance. "Or will they just think I'm a fat dumpy old woman who has lost her senses?" "No, I don't think that at all," he replied. "Look at yourself." I think you look terrific, but then I've always had a crush on you!" he said in his charming way. " I can still remember that you were my first sex symbol, and how I couldn't take my eyes off your breasts." I would work hours trying to find an angle to see more of them, or to see you in your bra, you know. I'm sure you were aware of that, eh?" "Oh, the way you talk. But, of course that is the way all little boys are, aren't they. I mean it is perfectly normal to have an attachment for the first women you are close to." So, the night has come. I have been worrying about it for two weeks and have been torn between canceling out several times. Each time Jeff has been reassuring that it will be all right and I have relented. I even went out and spruced up my wardrobe a bit, buying a sort of teddy or bustier with garters for the old fashioned black stockings I thought might set the mood. I have had a long luxurious bath now and dabbed my favorite perfume everywhere you can think of and maybe a couple you haven't thought of. Just in case this does go further than a few hands of poker! Slipping my breasts into the cups of the bustier, I began to feel a little bit seductive and then had the old misgivings. "Oh, what the hell, I said to myself, what have you got to lose at your age anyway?" I tugged a bit and got the garment fastened and looked at myself in the mirror, bending over to see what the view was going to be. "Not bad, old girl," I said aloud, admiring the cleavage the little bit of padding gave me. As I readjusted them in the cups, I noticed that my nipples had hardened a little. Holding up the Christian Dior stockings, I could see that they were deliciously sheer. I slipped the first over my foot and then pulled it evenly up my thigh and pulled it up snug. I straightened the leg for an admiring glance and was glad to see that it looked pretty good, if I had to say so myself. I was just pulling on the other thigh- when Jeff came to the door to see if he should open the wine. I teasingly opened the door and slipped one leg through like they do in the movies. "Wow, holy cow, Gram, you're going to be a smash. Can I see the rest?" he said rather eagerly. "Here now, young man, this is your grandmother you are talking to, mind your manners" I chided. Jeff's friends rang the doorbell and I realized that there were three of them, and that Jeff intended to be the fourth active partner in this party. Probably I knew that all along but had not faced up to it before. I slipped into my new black panties and slid them up my thighs and felt the silkiness of them over my buns and the way they fit snugly over my pussy. I sprayed a little perfume there. I slipped into the skirt and blouse I planned to wear, slipped into my heels and with one glance in the mirror; I boosted my breasts once and headed down to my dates for the evening. Luckily I liked the young men that Jeff had invited. Billy was a black boy I had met before, tall and handsome with charming manners. Ted was a bit brash, good looking with a lot of talk, and his young brother Eddie, who looked a little out of place with the older boys. We did, in fact, play a game of strip poker while we were getting better acquainted over a few glasses of wine. I lost my shoes fairly quickly and then my skirt. The boys were complimentary as I slipped the skirt slowly down my legs and stepped out of it. I affected a little bump and grind to their cheers. Billy lost steadily until he was totally nude and the others didn't seem to be very good players either. As my blouse joined the pile on the table, I noticed my breasts were getting a lot of appreciative attention. At this point, we changed the game a little. The boys decided that since they were out of clothes that the bets should be for touching, feeling, licking various parts of the loser's body. They all agreed that girls are more interesting in their underwear than nude anyway, so they wanted to enjoy me in my black undies. Jeff had the low hand and I had the high hand, meaning that he had to fondle my choice of my body part to receive attention. I was stating to like this game. Starting slowly, I said "OK, Billy, I want some tender fondling of my panty covered tush and hips." "Ah, My pleasure, ma'am." With this he took my hand and brought me to my feet, began slowly and gently fondling me. Starting with his hands on my waist he moved around to lightly brush my panty covered ass with his fingertips. His hands were wonderful as he expanded the caress to involve his whole hand which eventually cupped my buns as I watched his cock rise to full staff in front of me. I stared at the nice purple head of his cock emerging from under his black foreskin. Billy was not circumcised and I wondered if that would feel different, since I had never had the pleasure of a man like that. It isn't very attractive, I do think, but the bulbous head looks nice when it finally is exposed. "Does the winner get to touch what ever she sees that she likes?" I joked. His voice was tense as he answered "anything you want is fair, Gram." He thrust himself closer and my hand surrounded the largeness of his cock and slowly began moving back and forth. "Ummmn, he moaned. That's great." His hands moved around to the front of my panties and his fingers sought their way under the tightness of the elastic in the legs. I could feel his nails trail down just touching the hair of my pussy on both sides of my panty legs and my hand tightened on his cock, pulling it closer to just touch the silkiness of my panties where they tented over my mound. I could feel that I was already beginning to get wet between my legs. "Time for another hand, you two!" Ted interrupted. "There are other players here, you know?"Reluctantly, we resumed our seats, and I retained my grip on Billy's lovely black cock for a moment longer under the table, then reluctantly let it spring back to its vertical erect position pointing skyward under the table. "Whose deal?" I managed to choke out. My panties were sopping wet wedged there between my thighs. I could feel the snaps of the teddy there against the lips of my pussy as I crossed my legs. Ted won the next hand and elected to have his cock sucked by the favorite loser (ME). He took his position in a soft armchair. "Billy, how about continuing your attention to my ass while I attend to Ted? I don't think we took enough time on our turn, did we?" I was feeling fairly mischievous and getting comfortable with the pleasures of the game. "God, you get the best ideas." He smiled enthusiastically. I was starting to like this smiling, tall black boy. Teddy was very nice too, it turned out, waiting patiently staring at my tits with his nice medium-size dick sticking up like a poker from his lap. I leaned on the arms of the chair as I admired that sweet young dick staring up at me. Taking it in my left hand, I massaged it slightly as it hardened even more under my warm hand. Teddy was tense, and I encouraged him to relax. "It's okay, don't be embarrassed, sweetheart, just relax and enjoy." I settled into the chair a little more. "Oh, you have such a nice big dick, Teddy, I want to kiss it, my little lamb, is that what you want?" "Yeaahh," his voice was raspy and huskier than normal. I don't think he had had much experience. It was nice to have this chance to teach him with the tenderness I felt. I kissed the tip of his cock, flicking my tongue lightly over the split tip of it. His pre-cum juices tasted sweet but slightly salty, and his male scent met my nostrils. "Oh, Billy, that feels so nice when you fondle my buns, keep it up, baby." "You got it, momma. I love the feel of your panties over your hips." I could feel that he had moved closer so that his huge cock was pleasantly leaning against the split of my ass, feeling the silkiness of my panties over the softness of my buns. Turning my attention to Teddy, I brought my lips down around the sweet bulbous head of his cock, letting the tightness of my lips pop over the ridge of his glans. He surged deeper with a little thrust of his hips, and he slipped deep into my mouth. I circled his balls and the base of his cock with my hand. "Oh, my god, he murmured, this is so good, give me more, baby." I was glad to oblige. His young cock was smooth, long, and tasted good. The heat of it was deliciously sensual against my tongue as I circled it with my wetness. Jeff had pulled aside the crotch of my panties and had discovered my wetness there between my thighs. His finger explored. I spread my thighs a little to make it easier for him to continue his exploration. As I gulped Teddy's cock, I felt that huge dick of Jeff's between my legs, nuzzling the wetness of my cuntal lips. The feeling of having two men was new to me. I found it wonderful. It's shocking, I know, but I suppose it is obvious that two would be even better than one, and I can now testify to the pleasure of it all. One hot dick deep in my throat and one very large and very hot one between the lips of my pussy, sampling the wetness of my juices. Wow. Billy's uncircumcised dick was just gently sliding between the lips of my pussy, parting them and then letting them return as he pulled out in the other direction. I could imagine but not feel the effect the seesawing motion would be having on the foreskin as it slipped back and forth over his bulging knob. Jeff's hand reached between my legs and unsnapped the crotch of my bustier. My mouth intensified its enjoyment of Ted's cock as the excitement mounted in my loins as my black silky panties slipped down over my hips and were slipped down my legs by a third set of hands helping Jeff. I moved my legs to allow them to slip them off more easily and then stepped out of them. Billy quickly slipped his cock into my eager pussy. It felt so good to have my cunt being stretched to accommodate a man again after so long. His cock felt hot as he thrust what felt like the entire length into me. I could feel its tip bump against my cervix. Apparently sensing that he was a little big for me, he seemed to go slowly and carefully, making a number of delightful in-and-out strokes to my great pleasure. I could feel my juices lubricating this huge battering ram of a cock and feel them make my thighs slightly wet and sticky. Mmmmn, delightful. "Oh, I said, maybe we better stop for a breather, boys, I don't want this to end too soon. You're wonderful lovers, you know. I love your beautiful bodies and especially these lovely cocks you brought along for me!" "I'm for that," sighed Teddy, "this is the greatest! You're the greatest!!!!" "Well, since you mention it, I won't deny that I'm good at sucking the best out of a good man's dick! I've always been partial to it! And, it's nice of you to say it. I like the taste of you, you know?" We settled for another drink and another hand of poker. What could be next, I thought. My stomach started cramping up from holding back on my orgasm, but being so close to having my first one. The pleasure of all this was really deliciously exciting, so I was holding back to extend the enjoyment. I got everyone another glass of wine, and the boys each fondled my nyloned legs or put their arms around me low on my hips so they could enjoy the softness of my ass on their bare arms. The youngest one, Eddie, had not said or done much other than look, so far, so I decided to try to make him more comfortable. Sitting on his lap and giving him a wet French kiss. "Oh, I think you liked that, eh?" I smiled. Bringing my lips to his again was met with his tongue fencing with mine, and I moved my ass against his little cock. I could feel the nervous excitement as he tried to nearly swallow my tongue. "Eddie, would you like to try that tongue out on my other lips? I'd really like you under the table between my legs while we play the next hand. What do you say?" He was a nice kid. He eagerly agreed, though he was feeling a little embarrassed in front of his friends. Knowing how men like our panties, I slipped into a pair of black lace ones and dabbed my bush with a little more perfume. Then, I led him by the hand, and he ducked under the table amid the cheers of the rest of us. As I sat down, spreading my legs, I could feel his hands tentatively sliding along my thighs and then the back of his knuckles as he touched the panties covering my pussy. Then his breath was on my pussy. I could feel his nose bump into my mound as he found his way to my cunt for the first time. His tongue tentatively tasted my bush through the lace and then found its way around the elastic to my lips. He was off target to one side at first but soon was licking his way along the wet slit between the generous folds of my waiting cunt. He pulled my panties aside and held them firmly out of his way as his tongue spread my juices all over my cunt lips and his own lips and face. I guided him to the erect clit at the center of my body and pressed his face deep into my cunt. He got the idea, and his tongue was magic in its excited eagerness to please. He swirled my engorged and sensitive clit around and around as if he couldn't get enough of it. I clamped my thighs tightly against the sides of his head as the next hand was dealt up on the tabletop. I was having a little trouble concentrating on the game, but it was exciting, exciting, exciting. Eddie continued to attack my clit and then moved down a little, and I felt him striving to slip his tongue deeper into my love hole. I was close to cumming. I pushed his head down a little lower, and his bewildered tongue touched the bud of my asshole. My juices were following him down, and my asshole was soon bathed in wetness, too. After his initial surprise, Eddie seemed to like licking it too, and he ringed my hole again and again as he squeezed my nyloned thighs with his hands. "Oh, oh, I'm, I'm cumming, oh, cum, oh, ooh..." Suddenly there was no holding back, I was cumming wildly. My body shook and shuddered, the electric thrill starting in my chest and coursing down through the rest of my body. I spasmed again and again, and my legs clamped around poor little Eddie and nearly squeezed the breath out of him. He kept licking gamely, though, and my body slowly subsided from its extreme high tenseness into a complete and warm relaxation. "Better than I have had in years, sweetie," I moaned. I pulled him up between my legs and hugged him to my breasts. On his knees, his cock was buried against my pussy, as hard as could be. "Oh, my, I said, I should return the favor, shouldn't I? Look how hard you have gotten. Come on, baby, let me help you with that." Taking him to the living room, I had him lie on his back. "Now you are going to feel as good as you just made me feel, okay?" He nodded enthusiastically. Straddling his slight body and still not full-grown cock, I lowered myself onto him. He was small, but that made it a little more exciting to feel that little cock sliding into my cunt. I wanted to make him feel very good and tightened the muscles of my pussy as much as I could. He was going crazy under me. I think he was afraid to move, so I got to do all the work. I played with his little cock, moving my pelvis in a circle with his prick in the center. My juices made us both slippery and wet and warm. He slipped out of my tunnel, and I reached between us and played with it, rubbing it just a little bit against my wet slit, careful not to bring him off just yet. He was not large, but he was long enough to be entertaining. "How's that feel, honey?" I whispered hoarsely.He answered with a gasped "yes," and I pulled my bra cups down so he could play with my breasts. His hands roamed eagerly over the ample flesh. I guided him to pinch my nipples a little as I pressed my cunt forward against the length of his cock. Clamping tighter, I raised my ass a little higher and gave his cock some tight, hard thrusts. He arched his back and pushed into me as his sperm was ready to rush out. Three or four more thrusts, and I felt his sperm shooting out into my cunt and then slipping out along his shaft. I pressed against him, holding onto his softening little cock, draining the last bit of pleasure and juice out of it. I released it slowly from the muscles and lips of my cunt and felt the pleasure of the semi-hard shaft slipping wetly out of my happy pussy. Eddie was smiling and scratching his head fiercely the way men sometimes do after a "good piece of ass," I thought modestly. I wonder what causes their scalp to itch when you rub the other end of their bodies!? After serving another glass of wine, I slipped upstairs to freshen up a little bit. My stomach was still a little crampy in spite of the good orgasm, so it felt good to go to the bathroom and let my water flow. I really felt good, relaxed and enjoying the pleasures the boys were giving me. And also the pleasure I was obviously giving them. They were all so cute and excited. With my foot up on the stool, I washed myself with a warm cloth, cleaning all the sticky juices and sperm from my thighs and then gently parting my pussy lips and washing it very gently. I was still tingling, and the slight roughness of the cloth made my clit bristle with the expectation of more pleasure to come. I slipped on a fresh pair of panties for the boys to take off and dabbed a little perfume on my mound. Another dab between my breasts and a little behind my knees, and I was ready for another round of card playing revelry. They greeted me as a queen alighting from a carriage and escorted me to a large easy chair for my throne. They had decided that I should be worshipped on my throne and that the chief medicine man would be Billy, whose cock was swollen and stood out with a youthful hardness. He had started it off this evening with his nice caresses and much-needed fondling of my ass and had been patiently waiting ever since. I thought he was likely to be a very good medicine man and admired the bulbous head of his cock. I could imagine what it was going to feel like as it filled me up completely. Billy was the largest of the boys, in stature as well as having the largest cock. Fondling his balls, I said, "This looks like it could hurt someone! It's so big and beautiful. I'm sure you'll be gentle, eh, Billy?" He smiled with pride at my praise. His black skin emphasized the whiteness of his teeth. I thought, "This is another first for me, having a black cock inside me." The old myth about black being better and much larger came to mind. Well, if there is any truth to the size stories about black men, certainly Billy was not going to let it down. His cock looked truly beautiful, and I kissed it on the underside near the end. His glans stood out from the shaft, smooth and glistening. The ridge around his cock head was deep and gave a strong delineation which was beautiful and exciting. It looked like it would feel wonderful sliding into my waiting cunt. Luckily, I could feel myself getting wet already as my tongue slipped up over the head of Billy's cock, and my lips closed around it for just a moment. His sharp intake of breath warned me that I should not linger, or his ejaculation would be premature. "The queen is happy with this reception and ready for the ceremony!" I smiled as I slipped low in my throne and waited for his friendly invasion. Billy knelt between my legs and sniffed the mixture of my scent and my perfume steaming up from my warm, panty-covered pussy mound. His lips were pressed against the flatness there between my legs where my pussy awaited him. His nose rested over the ledge of my mound. His finger slipped along the elastic of my panties and found its way into my cunt. He lingered a moment and then began slipping my panties down my legs and off. He laid them close at hand, "I want to smell those some more a little later. You have a wonderful scent," he murmured. They had turned the lights a little lower, and Billy's assistant, grandson Jeff, stood at attention with his erect penis awaiting my command. Billy moved closer and helped me slide down into the chair to meet him. My ass was on the edge of the chair cushion, and my head was against the back of the chair as I waited for my punishment or my treat, or perhaps both. Handling his cock gently, Billy rubbed that beautiful, bulbous cock head against my clit, moved it down so that it opened the lips of my pussy and then down past the tunnel of my cunt. My juices were flowing with excitement and pleasure. His cock head was well lubricated now, and I could see it peek out above my pussy hair as he made his upward movement, teasing my clit into erect excitement. My juices glistened on his cock head and about a half inch of the shaft of his magnificent instrument. At last, he slipped inside, taking my breath away for a moment as the head of it popped in against the slight resistance of the muscles of my cunt. It slid easily, but it was stretching me with its girth, too. Lord, he was a big boy, no doubt. I squirmed a little for comfort as the wonderful invader made its way forcefully and persistently down the wet, hot channel of my cunt. His cock felt very hot as it slid in, and I melted with the pleasure of it. It seemed to be filling me up entirely and stretching my cunt and exploring every crevice and fold of my vagina as it straightened it out with its length. I felt the cock head touch my cervix, but the pleasure was so great that I found myself straining to get him in deeper. The bristle-like hair of his mound now found the protecting hair of my pussy mound. His breath came in excited jerks in my ear as he rammed himself against me. I spread my legs even wider to welcome the sensation of his body touching the sensitive concavities in my thigh muscles which lie on either side of my pussy when my legs are spread at their widest. His warm, smooth body nestled against me, trying to find a perfect, complete contact. He was so warm and lovely, it was a nice contrast to the searing heat of his cock or the searing feeling that his largeness caused as he stretched me to receive his entire cock. He had stopped to enjoy being all the way inside my passage and probably to avoid coming too soon. This I appreciated. I clamped my legs around his back to hold him in and to gain leverage to tighten my muscles around the tubular length of his cock. I could feel it better as I alternately squeezed and relaxed around him. I could tell that it felt very good to him because of the way it felt to me. It was like having a very high-quality leather glove tight on your hand. The pleasure is a sensual one, too, as this one certainly was. The snugness of the glove makes you aware of the shape of your hand and fingers, and it grips you in the same way I was feeling about this large, lovely shape in my pussy. I squeezed him more and more and then squeezed hardest as I felt him begin to slide out to begin thrusting. I could feel the head of his dick as it made its way until it was close to leaving me, and then as it was thrust hard back into me, pushing the folds of me out of its way in its eagerness to be satisfied with pleasure and release. Billy was not in control anymore, he was just thrusting in and out mostly by instinctive need for the tactile pleasure of the penis inside a warm, welcoming cunt. Eagerly ramming in and out, pulling more of my juices with it. He was covered with my juices, I could tell from the feel of his cock, and soon from the feel of his belly sticky and wet against the entry to the heavenly heat he was seeking. As he was thrusting, I sensed the cock of his assistant nearby and took it in my hand and squeezed it as my pleasure continued to swirl around inside my body. I don't think I have ever before had such a feeling of joy and physical pleasure. As his cock rammed into me again and again, I had multiple orgasms starting with one big one which coursed through my body from my clit up to my throat and back again and then a series of little shivering things which made me tremble to the luscious stimulation of my pussy and my clit. The young body pounding against my clit in its vulnerable, moist little chapel was a sheer delight. I was too young and inexperienced to have enjoyed it in this way when I was their age. That excitement was more the fumbling type, while now I was able to help these inexperienced, eager young men play a magnificent symphony of pleasure on my eager body. It was heaven, for sure. Billy was now completely spent, of course. He had lasted pretty well for such a young man, and he had given me unbelievable pleasure with his wonderful thrusting. Now his juice was slipping out of my limp cunt muscles. Those same taut muscles which had hugged his cock and played with it, and massaged it, and most of all had felt for my pleasure. In a real sense, I had been "feeling him up" with those lovely muscles for the same kind of pleasure that men get in "feeling up" our breasts, I guess. I slipped my hand between our bodies as he began to pull out and gripped him one last time and felt the joyous combination of our juices there between us, coating his body completely and now seeping sensuously down my thighs. "Billy, you were wonderful," I said to him, meaning it with all sincerity. "You are a very good lover, you know!" "Ohhhh, so are you, lady, so are you!" It was a nice compliment, and I think he meant it, too.Jeff, sensing that I was getting a little tired, started cleaning up the table, and his friends helped. "I think it's time to hang it up, guys. What do you say?" They were all pretty worn out as they got back into their clothes. "Wow, what a night," Little Eddie smiled. "Thanks for everything." I hugged him to my breasts and told him good night. "Can we come back again, sometime?" I smiled back, feeling genuinely tender at the pleasure he had given me, too. "Of course, sweetheart, I think we should do this again sometime if Jeff will let us!" Jeff was just finishing the table. "Hey, I'm Mr. nice guy here, I got left out of everything!!! When do I get my turn?" "Jeff, you're my Grandson, after all!!!!" I protested with mock horror. But in my heart, I secretly wanted to hold him close and teach him. I had noticed how lean and wonderfully strong he looked as he lost hand after hand. "I wonder," I thought, as we closed the door behind the boys and I felt Jeff's arm around my waist... End of Chapter One – Grandma's Story May Be Continued Later If Any Interest Is Expressed Send Comments to jbellamy@renman.net

Chapter 1

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/17065.txt

Stephanie

African Dreams

"Dean!" called Mark. He squinted in the bright light of the African noonday sun as he searched for his son. He listened closely and over the whine of insects, he heard a peal of laughter emanating from a clump of trees thirty feet away. Mark sighed and started to trudge over the uneven ground towards the grove. There was no way he was going to go through this every evening; he would have to buy a tracker program. Of course, he could have turned the room off and not bothered hunting his son down. But he had read in far too many books that doing that could harm the development of the child. He was dubious of many of the claims made in those books, but these days he couldn't afford to add to his weighty problems. So he walked in the sweltering heat, as he always did, to recover his son from a world that didn't exist. At least he wouldn't have to worry about being burnt by the sun. It was programmed to be fully safe for all ages, and Dean hadn't even got a tan, despite all the hours he spent in the room. Finally, he reached the trees and peered into the darkness under them. "Dean? Come on, it's past your bedtime." "Don't want to!" A petulant voice replied from less than five feet away. "Don't start now, Dean, please! It'll all be here for you tomorrow." Receiving no reply, Mark pushed into the dense growth. Something was moving just a few feet ahead. "Dean! Come here this instant!" He pushed through the grass and something large stood up in front of him. It roared straight into Mark's face, and he fell back in fright, instinctively balling up on the floor. Then common sense took over, and he felt embarrassed and angry. He looked up at Dean's laughing face as his son sat on top of the lion's head. "You're funny!" Dean remarked delighted. Mark counted to five and then stood up. Of course the lion was no threat, but even after the last few weeks, it was still almost impossible to convince the primitive sections of his brain of that fact. Dean made no attempt to hide again, perhaps aware that he had pushed his father as far as he should. Mark picked his son off the lion and said "Door," loudly enough for the computer to register. "Door!" Dean mimicked as the exit from the room and the route back to reality appeared as if by magic. The house lights seemed dim after the African savannah. But then, that only matched Mark's feelings for the house. Once it had been a home, now it was just a house. Empty and cold. Mark pushed those thoughts from his mind and put his son to bed. After he closed the door of Dean's room behind him, Mark dreaded the evening ahead. As he had dreaded all the evenings for months now. This was the time when the house seemed the most empty. When Dean was up, even when in that playroom of his, Mark could fool himself that everything was alright. That Helen had just gone out for a few minutes. That she would be returning from doing the grocery shopping soon. That she wouldn't be run off the road by some drunk fucker-- Mark cursed his treacherous mind and headed back to the stairs. Helen's death had ruined every memory he had of her. The six years of happiness and love were now overlaid, like an oily film, with the memory of that day when his world shattered. His psychiatrist told him that one day he would be able to remember the good times unsullied by her death, but Mark didn't believe him. He looked in on his own bedroom, but couldn't face the prospect of sleeping there that night. He would have moved into the spare room, but for the fact that if he did that he knew he would never go into his and Helen's bedroom ever again. Blazing sunlight was leaking round the door of Dean's playroom. He had forgotten to turn the thing off. Something stopped him in the process of shutting the VR room down, and he stepped inside. It'd be better than staying in the house with all those painful memories of Helen, and he'd still be close by if Dean needed him. He closed the door behind him and suddenly he was alone in the middle of Africa. He looked around him and he had to admit it was totally realistic. It should be too at the price he had paid for it. Mark tried to decide which way to go, but anything interesting looked miles away. A smile crossed his face. Why walk? "Guide," he said, and an eight-foot tall pink dinosaur appeared beside him. "Hi!" it said enthusiastically. "What do you want to do today?" "Basic menu," growled Mark. The dinosaur faded and was replaced by a rotating triangle six inches along each side and hovering eye level above the ground. If anything that 'dinosaur' made him shudder more than the lions. "Give me a Jeep," Mark told the guide and waited. It took the computer several moments to analyze his request and decide what he probably wanted. Then it produced a Jeep straight out of the second world war, even down to the markings. Mark shrugged. It wasn't what he had in mind, but it would do. "Give me a road in that direction," Mark said, pointing in a random direction. This was an easier command to process, and a perfectly straight length of tarmac stretched into the distance from his feet. He climbed into the Jeep, started it up and roared down the road as fast as he could go. Animals looked up warily as he passed, often moving further away from the strange metal beast. The novelty soon palled, however, and Mark wondered what to do next. Maybe he should call up an Indy Car circuit and go racing. Just as he was about to call the guide, he noticed something odd in the distance. What looked like a white tower. He turned off the road and moved over the uneven ground towards it. The tower proved to be closer than it had first appeared and seemed to have a long flat overhanging piece at the top and a ladder at the back. It was a diving board. As he got closer, he could see that it came with a pool as well. It was insanity to have a pool there, of course, but then this wasn't reality. Mark wondered if it had been included in the program as a joke by the programmer. Still, Mark's curiosity was piqued, and he stopped the jeep by the pool and walked over to it. The sun was still very warm, and the water seemed very cool and inviting. Mark stripped to his underpants and cautiously eased himself into the water. He didn't want to risk diving in just in case the pool was only a visual illusion and he crashed into the ground. It would be an appallingly stupid way to die and he wasn't sure the playroom would protect him. But the water seemed real and it was certainly refreshing. Mark lazily swam a few lengths and then dived down to the bottom of the pool. He touched the bottom and then came back up for air. This was actually quite fun. Perhaps he should spend some more time in here after Dean had gone to bed. "You finally made it then," a voice behind him remarked. "I was beginning to think you'd never come." Mark shivered. Nothing in the world could make him turn around at that moment and face the person who had just spoken. He knew that voice. He knew that voice very well. It was a voice engraved on his soul and he had never thought he would ever hear it again. "Well," said the voice again, "aren't you going to say hello." Unsteadily, Mark turned around in the water and looked at the other person. "Hello, Helen," he said. His wife was wearing her favourite white bikini. She smiled at him and then dived gracefully into the water. As he watched her stroke through the water towards him, he tried to work out how she could be there. She was dead. He had had to identify the body himself. How had she gotten into Dean's program? Helen surfaced right in front of him and she put her arms around him. Mark was paralyzed by two powerful emotions running through him.On the one hand, he knew she was dead and he felt like he was holding a corpse. But on the other, it was obvious she was warm and alive, and it was Helen. "W-what are you doing here?" he asked. "I'm here with you and Dean, of course," she replied as if he should have known that. "Where is my little bundle of joy, anyway?" "He's gone to bed," Mark said quietly. It was Helen; there was no doubt, but how had she got there? "We played all afternoon together," she told him. "He's got your smile, you know." Dean had done this, Mark realized. He had probably asked for his Mommy, and the ever-helpful pink dinosaur had gone and analyzed some of the home movies in the House memory and created Helen. Dean was still too young to truly understand what had happened to his mom, but her absence had obviously driven Dean to create her in the playroom. No wonder he spent so much time in there. Mark knew he should delete this program from the playroom and have a long talk with Dean. Painful as it would be, his son couldn't continue to lean on this virtual mom. It would damage his development. Helen leaned in and kissed him. Mark opened his mouth in surprise, and her tongue met his. Dear God, he thought, she even tastes the same. His body reacted just as it always did, and she gently pressed her pelvis against his hardness. Instinctively, his hand slipped around her waist and held her slim form to his. The desire and the loneliness crashed over him, and tears started to run down his face as he held her. "Shhh, it's alright," she said as she gently stroked the back of his head. "I've missed you so much, Helen." "I know, but I'm here now." Her hand snaked down between them and tugged at his briefs. Slowly, she eased them over his swollen member and then down. Mark's fingers ran slowly over his wife's body and then slipped under the bikini bottom. She looked at him and smiled, "I'm already wet." Mark couldn't help but laugh back, "Of course you are. We're standing in four feet of water." He pulled her bikini bottom off, and she removed her top at the same time. He ducked down just below the water line to reach Helen's nipples. They were as deliciously dark and inviting as he remembered. His hand stole between her legs and gently parted her lower lips. Helen wrapped her arms around his shoulders and gave a small contented sigh. Mark could feel his own pent-up urgency growing, and he knew he could hold back no longer. He scooped his hands under her thighs and lifted her. In the water, it felt like she weighed nothing at all, and it was no strain to carefully lower her onto his manhood. Almost infinitely slowly, she slid down and down until he was fully inside her. For the first time in months, he was complete again. His wife's long, smooth legs were wrapped around his waist, and he held her tightly. He was almost afraid to start thrusting as that meant he would have to pull away from her to start with, but then the two of them started to slowly move together in perfect harmony. Her sensuous inner warmth stretching and separating to admit his firmness inside. It had been far too long since they had been together like this, and Mark was quickly growing to his climax. He could sense a similar urge in Helen as if this program also felt the same longing. Their movements increased in speed. Now her fingernails were digging deep into his back, but he didn't care. It just proved that she was feeling as excited as he was. Her breasts pressed against his chest, and it was easy for him to feel her nipples digging into him. Her own thrusting faltered and stopped as her orgasm overcame her, but Mark just redoubled his own efforts. He was so close to his own climax. Then he too orgasmed, and he buried his face into his wife's neck as he pumped his seed into her. Mark had no idea how long they remained locked together like that, gently kissing and caressing each other. Eventually, Helen pulled back. "We're going to get all wrinkled if we stay in here much longer." "I don't care," Mark replied. "Well, you're not a woman. You don't care about your body as much as we do." She gracefully lifted herself out of the pool. Mark managed to retrieve his briefs from the floor of the pool and then followed. Apparently, while they had been making love, some sun chairs had appeared around the water's edge. Helen lazily rolled into one and sighed, "This is the life. Do you remember the last time we made love in the water?" "Yeah, it was just off that secluded beach in the Caribbean." "I tried giving you a blow job and I almost drowned!" She giggled. Mark stopped and looked at her closely. How did she know that? It certainly wasn't stored anywhere in the house memory. "I suppose it wasn't one of my better ideas." "I always wanted to go to Africa, you know," Helen said wistfully. "That's right, we kept putting it off until Dean was older. Then we ran out of time and you... you were gone." He fought to stop himself from crying again. Helen got up and walked over. "I know it hasn't been easy. If I had any say in the matter, I would never have left you and Dean. But I didn't, so I did. Did you buy this room for Dean?" "Yeah, he loves it here. I'm not so sure I did the right thing doing it though." "Nonsense, it's good for him. I was watching him earlier playing with his friends. Without this program linked to the net, he would never have known they existed. You should spend more time in here with him, though." "Yes, dear," he said in a mock-contrite voice. She smiled. "I mean it. I know how badly my death hurt you, but you mustn't let it build a wall between you and Dean." She let that sink in for a moment before saying, "Look at that sunset! Isn't it magnificent?" Mark turned in the direction she was looking. The sun was near the horizon, but he could have sworn it was nearly noon just moments before. "The sun's nearly gone," he said. "Yes, but even though you won't be able to see it soon, it'll still exist. And, in time, you'll see it again." Mark pondered that strange remark as he watched the sun slowly slip beyond the horizon in a blaze of yellow and orange. "I really wish we'd made it to Africa to see this for real," he remarked after it had gone. "Helen?" He turned around, and even in the twilight, he could see he was alone. Of Helen and the pool, there was no sign. He yelled his wife's name at the top of his voice, but there was no response except the sound of insects in the night. "Basic menu!" he snapped, and the rotating triangle cursor reappeared. "Return the pool," he commanded. "Unable to comply," the menu said. "The pool that was right here. Bring it back." "This program contains no pools. One can be added at a small additional charge of--" "Shut up," Mark told the computer tiredly. He tried quizzing the computer several different ways, but it flatly denied the existence of any pools or recreations of Helen in its database. "I'm going to have a very long examination of your software," he growled at the room. Time was moving on, and it was getting late. He decided he would do it the next morning. "Door!" The exit from the room obediently appeared, and Mark stepped through it. He looked back into the darkness of the African program before turning it off. The vision faded to be replaced by a small, plain white room. Slowly, he closed the door. "Mommy?" The voice was Dean's. The door to his room was open, and Mark quickly strode to it and through. Dean was awake and looking up at the other person in the room. Helen was now wearing a long, flowing summer dress. She looked up and smiled at Mark. His jaw dropped at the sight of her, and a lump blocked his throat. How could she be here? In the VR room, was one thing, but Dean's bedroom was quite different. There were no holo-projectors outside of the playroom. She gently kissed Dean's forehead, "I love you, sweetheart." She looked up at Mark, "And I love you too." "Helen, I--" "Shhh," she replied gently, "remember what I told you, my love." And then she was gone as if she had never been there. "Where's Mommy?" Dean asked. "Where Mommy go?" He sat down beside her and rubbed Dean's head. At last, he understood what she had said in the playroom. "You or I can't see her, but she will always be with us and looking after us." He tucked Dean into bed and sat with him until the boy had drifted off to sleep before going to his own bedroom. The house still seemed empty, but Mark was at peace. It wasn't forever, and he now realized that he had never been truly separated from Helen and that he never could be. And one day - maybe decades from then, but one day - they would be together again.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/14918.txt

G Smith

The Back Rub

"Marty, it's not the end of the world. Although, it did feel like that for a while. Still, I wouldn't be here tonight if she and I were still together." Marty cocked an eyebrow at me. "Well, it would have stopped with the back rub...I think." That brought me back into her arms. Marty reached between us and said, "We still have a problem here and it doesn't seem to want to go away." "True enough, my lady. But them's the breaks. I think I'm negative, but I can't prove it even to myself." "You were very good to me tonight, G. I'm going to do what I can." "Tell you what, Marty. Let's take a break and have something to eat. Some food, I mean." With that, we both started to get up. "No, you stay here. If I can't find what I need, I'll ask Fleur." I was really glad I had brought the food. Marty didn't keep much of a supply of high-energy food in her apartment. A lot of lettuce, though. Of course, that's why she had the figure she did. Arranging my little tidbits on a serving platter, I decided that another bottle of wine was also necessary. And, I was getting tired of the CD I had selected an hour ago. I didn't exactly waltz back into her bedroom. Naked men and swinging dicks can't dance (among other things). The scents of Marty's orgasms and the candles had permeated the entire apartment. (At least, the candles had; I wore enough of Marty's to smell it wherever I went. Hungrier than we both realized, the food on the platter didn't last long. The quiet in the apartment closed in around us. Even the street noises were far off. "The one thing I'm a little low is an adequate selection of fruit. We'll have to make do with the grapes and the pears." Sitting facing her, I realized again how truly beautiful she was in her natural state. "This is a treat I learned from my friend, the ex-restaurant owner," as I smeared some Gorgonzola cheese onto a grape. Offering it to her, a small piece of cheese dropped off to land on her belly. Grinning and saying, "I'll get it," I bent down to lick it off her pale olive skin. Once there, I could see no reason to leave and I widened the strokes of my tongue until I approached her mons. "If we can't fuck," I said as I looked up her torso to her face, "there is one thing I'd like." "Name it and it's...we'll see," was Marty's two-part rejoinder. "No," I replied as I rubbed my beard into her equivalent. "No, you will like it. Do we have a deal?" Once again, I saw Marty pause and think over what had happened tonight. She had two glorious orgasms just because she had agreed to a back rub. Nodding her head in agreement, Marty looked directly at me. Scooting up beside her, now, I leaned over and said, "I want you to sit on my face. I don't know any other way of saying it. At least then," and I smiled, "I get to hold onto the bed." Trying not to laugh at my comment on her hand holds, Marty asked me, "Why?" "It's great for both of us. You control where your body is; I get to be where I want for as long as you want. Besides, tongues don't get tired and soft quickly. They get sore, but they don't get tired. And I can cheat. I've got lips, beard and, as a final option, my teeth." "Ooh...I don't know about the last." "No biting, I promise." "Uh...how do we work this?" Gathering up the remains of our bedside picnic, I motioned her away from the head of the bed. Crawling into the warm, and slightly damp, place in the middle of the bed, I plumped two of her pillows under my head. "That saves wear and tear on my neck." "You've done this before, haven't you?" said Marty as I arranged myself. "Not with you I haven't," and I reached out to bring her down for a kiss on the end of her nose. "What about our small friend here?" Marty ruffled my penis through my pubic hair. "Let him find his own girl. He can take care of himself." Gradually, we fell into the same exchange of tongues, in my mouth and then in Marty's. I knew that she would like this and it was one of my all-time favorites. While we kissed, I ran my hands back and forth across those wonderful breasts of hers. Marty was of slim build, but that only served to enhance the attractiveness of her breasts. When I could feel her nipples beginning to stiffen under the tweaking and pulling of my fingers, it was time to move to center stage. "Marty" "Ummm. Do I have to move?" "Sit up here with your legs on either side of my head." Plopping herself down as directed, Marty wiggled her bottom and vulva on my upper chest. "Come a little closer and sit up straighter. I can't believe you've never done this." My first lick was from the bottom of her vulva to her clitoris. With our previous lovemaking, Marty had responded to my initiatives. This way, she could guide me to the spots needing the most attention. True to my word, I started to reach up and grab onto the iron bars of the headboard. Marty's body began to move up and down as my tongue worked into her vagina. I could taste the new flow of her arousal as I tongue-fucked her. My hands were happier smoothing the skin on her buttocks and hips. Every now and then, as I concentrated on the upper reaches of her vulva, I slid my fingers underneath her butt and stroked along her labia. When I felt her hands cover mine, I knew I was in for a ride worth remembering. But, my hands had better things to do. Marty's vagina was completely open to me now. I ran her labia between my thumbs and index fingers while I focused my tongue and lips on the tissue around her clitoris. Gradually increasing the sucking pressure of my mouth, I circled her clitoris with my tongue. Marty's hips were now moving in an intricate sideways pattern to complement her up and down motions. With more and more pressure from her, I started to stroke the length of her clitoris. I wished my tongue were longer so that I could press the rougher skin of her "G" spot with the end of it. Above me, I could sense Marty's torso swaying in time with her hips. She began to fiercely press her genitals into my face so I added more pleasure for her by lightly brushing the fingernails of my left hand over her anus. That was it! Her thighs slammed against my head and the trunk of her body jerked to the demands of her orgasm. I was grateful that my head had sunk into the pillows. Cauliflower ears may be the honorable sign of a boxer; they don't do anything for a lover's appearance. With my lips suctioning around the top of her opened vulva, I flicked the tip of my tongue across her clitoris just as she relaxed from each contraction of her orgasm. Each time, it triggered another. I kept a steady pressure outside her vagina while the middle finger of my left hand poked at the tight sphincter of her anus. I didn't know whether these were individual climaxes or merely a series of mini-orgasms. I also had no idea how many. When your partner is experiencing that much rapturous pleasure, who counts? Suddenly, Marty forced her body away from all of my attending parts. As she fought to regain her breath, I could see a deep flush across her face and upper breasts. With her mouth wide open, Marty hurriedly dragged air into her oxygen-starved lungs. I'm sure there was a pool of her vaginal come on my chest. "Oh FUCK! That was unbelievable!" Collapsing down on me, I could feel the pounding of her heart. Running my hands over her back, I let Marty come down from her high. Grabbing my ears in each hand, Marty stared into my eyes. "Do you have any idea what that felt like?" she stammered. "No, my love, but it sure was great being part of it." was my honest answer. "What did you call me? "My love. Why?" "Do you?" "Have for months now.I couldn't tell you because I thought it might mess things up at work. "So that's why you went to these lengths when I called you this afternoon?" "No...not entirely. It was also because you called me Babe. That's very special to me, Marty. Just like you are." "Special? Well, I have something special for you! Except I don't think I can move." Holding her loosely in my arms, I started to chuckle. This magnificent woman, this wondrous female had nothing more to give me. I'm not entirely altruistic. But if you can't fuck, then any man would want his partner to have the most glorious orgasm possible. In the wavering light of the candles in Marty's bedroom, I knew that, truly, I had not expected all of this to happen. I was the one who had received the gift. To be part of the entire evening was more than enough. To have initiated and to be part of her thundering orgasm, that was a true lover's reward. But Marty was not done yet. "I'd like to wash my face but I have a better idea. Why don't we have a shower?" I asked her. "You're on!" The soothing hot water didn't have its normal calming effect. There was a lot of woman to lather, rinse and stroke. Marty was equally attentive to making sure all my body parts were squeaky clean. Standing in the steamy bathroom, I would never again look at Marty as purely a business woman. Taking turns, we patted each other dry. Standing behind her, I reached for her hands. Looking over her shoulder, I watched our faint reflection in the mirror as I rubbed her hands against her breasts. Together, we walked back into her bedroom. Throwing the beach towel into her hamper, Marty bent over to straighten the sheets on her bed. I couldn't resist cupping the lips of her vulva as they peeked out between her legs. Marty couldn't resist moving herself back against my hand. "G," Marty swung around until she was sitting, cross-legged on the bed. "How do you want it?" Looking at the impish look that took years away from her, I ran my forefinger down her jaw. "We talked about that, didn't we?" "But we never finished and, from the look of your little head, he hasn't finished either." "No, we use these." Saying this, Marty opened the drawer to her bedside table. "You might have forgotten them; I didn't." Triumphantly, she held up a box of condoms. "Hey," I exclaimed. "My favorite brand!" "Are they really?" "Well, no. But they'll work, won't they?" "Yeah...and they taste nice too!" Trust an expert to cover all the senses. Marty pulled me over by the most available part and stripped the wrapping off one of the condoms. "I'd like you to come in my mouth but that's for later, for some other time. Tonight, you can have me any other way." "Oh - ho," I thought. "Later." That promised more than I thought likely when that guy downstairs wished me "Good Luck." There's something awfully sensuous about a lover putting a condom on you. Much stroking first, little kisses up and down, fingernails running through your pubic hair to tickle your scrotum. I saw her mouth open as she bent her head to my penis, and then close. "Later." "Later," she agreed. "Come. Lay down on the bed and let me pleasure you." I didn't need a second invitation. Marty began leaving a trail of kisses up my left leg. As she extended her upper body towards my chest, she gently swung her breast over my legs and groin. It didn't take long for this friction to harden her nipples. I looked up at her face, as she settled her legs down on either side of me. Marty's pelvis ran her labia along my condom-covered penis. Leaning closer, she offered one hard pointed breast to my lips. I sucked in her nipple. Gently holding the nipple with my lips and teeth, I milked the ivory flesh of her breast as if I were really suckling. Having tenderized that teat, I switched to the other. Marty's eyes were closed as she sank down onto me. Her hip movements were becoming more insistent as her labia opened up and the friction stimulated her clitoris. A couple of times, the head of my penis would bump against her pubic arch. Once, it was about to enter her vagina but Marty shifted enough so she could continue rubbing me with the lubrications of her arousal. By then, my hips were moving back and forth as well. Marty opened her eyes. "G." "Yes, love." "It's time for you to come." "Good. Because a few more swipes like that and this card's tapped out." Marty flexed her pelvis and magically scooped me inside her. Sitting more erect, Marty placed her hands on my chest. We both paused, savoring the feeling of our joining. "This is going to be good, G." Kneading her fingers through the hair on my chest, Marty lifted up and simultaneously squeezed my penis in her vagina. Relaxing her internal pressure, Marty dropped back down. Wiggling her hips, she brushed her clitoris against the root of my penis. Lifting again, she repeated the same sequence. "Hold onto me," she instructed. I placed my hands where her hips bulged out on the downstroke. My thumbs mimicked her movement, up her abdomen when she lifted, down when she descended. Her pace began to pick up as she fucked my penis deeper into her. When she bottomed out, Marty began to squirm around almost as if her clitoris wasn't getting enough stimulation. At the top of the next stroke, I moved my left hand to her buttocks and tried to hold her there. I was very close. My right hand moved to the front of her abdomen, pressing into her and allowing me to stroke her clitoris with my thumb. I was now pressing her towards me, from behind while exerting an equal force, away from me, with my right hand. Marty began to tremble so I began rubbing around the base of her clitoris. As my thumb moved faster, I couldn't wait any longer. I started to come and let her slam down onto me, still stimulating her clitoris. This time, I could watch her come as the orgasm rippled through her. With a part moan, part groan and part scream, Marty let her orgasm take over. The mouth of her vagina was so tight on me that each pulse of my own ejaculation rebounded, building both of us higher. No, I didn't shoot enough ejaculate to blow up the condom like a balloon. I do think that I passed out for a few seconds though. The sound of our breathing must have made interesting hearing in the next apartment. It took forever for both of us to catch our breath and begin to slow our heartbeats. I really hadn't expected such a hard come from Marty. This was going to be one challenging woman to stay even with. "God damn, Marty. Do you know how good that felt?" I echoed her earlier question. Blinking her eyes open, Marty looked down at the smile on my face. "Next time, I give you the back rub." The End

The Conclusion

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/8750.txt

Mommy Juice

"Mom?" "Hnnnh?" "Are you going to have a baby?" "Huh? <Hak!> <Splut!> WHAT?!" "I said, 'Are you going to have a baby?'" "Yeah, Mom, we want to know." "NO! I am NOT! What brought THIS on, anyway. I didn't think I looked THAT fat." "You're not fat at all, Mom." "Then what brought THIS up?" "Well... Uh." "You see..." "C'mon now, spit it out. When a woman's daughters start asking questions like that, she wants to know what's going on." "Well... Uh... we were just over at Cindy's house, and she's got a new baby sister." "Yeah, and we wanted one too." "No way! After I had you, Julie, I told your father that was it. No more. It's too much pain." "Aw, PLEASE Mom?" "Yeah... Ginny's SO cute!" "Besides, I thought you LIKED babies, Mom. You practically slobber every time Aunt Joan is over with little Mikey." "Yeah. Please Mom. I want to have a little sister like Cindy does." "We'll both help you take care of it... it won't be a bother... really." "Please Mom. Please, please, please?" "No! If you kids want to have babies, then YOU have them. I'm not going to." "Huh?" "I thought only mommies could have babies." "Well, you're both getting old enough to almost be mommies yourselves. All you need, is the right man." "Really Mom?" "Really?" "Oh God. Open mouth, insert foot. Yeah, really." "But how do we do it?" "YOU don't." "But you said..." "But MOM!" "I said YOU don't. A man does. He squirts the stuff that makes little girls into mommies in you, and then after a while you have a baby. Surely you both learned all this in 'Sex Education' Class?" "Uh..." "Well..." "Well, didn't they?" "The talked about diseases and massy... master... mister..." "Masturbating?" "Yeah, that... and other weird stuff. It was boring." 1 "So how did you two kids pass, anyway?" "Well, you couldn't really flunk it." "Yeah! Some kids didn't even take it, because of their parents or something." "Uhuh. They gave us a test at the end; but them Mr. Fergusson never even graded it. He said just the fact that we attended was something." "Oh God. That's just Hygiene, not Sex-Education! For THIS we passed the new school levy?" "Huh?" "Never mind. You mean you girls REALLY don't know where babies come from?" "Well..." "Leanne says that a boy puts his 'thing' in a girl's hole, and then later she has a baby." "Is that what you meant about a man, Mom?" "Well... close. I suppose it's time you kids learned something about this. "A man DOES put his 'thing' as you call it (only it's called a penis, not a 'thing') into a girl's 'hole' (only it's called your vagina) and squirts a thick white liquid called sperm inside her to make her a mommy. Now do you understand?" "Oh. How do I get a boy to squirt the stuff that makes mommies in me?" "Yeah, Momma. You said WE could have a brother or sister, if we wanted to." "I did NOT!" "Yes you did Mom! I heard you. You said if WE want to have babies, then WE should have them. In fact, you said we were old enough right now." "Uhuh." "I did? Well, maybe I did. Well, I didn't mean it that way. Besides, even if either of you DID get pregnant, it wouldn't be the same anyway." "Huh?" "I mean, it would be YOUR child, not mine or even your father's. So it wouldn't really be your brother or sister. In order for that to happen, you'd have to do something like have your father knock you up; so forget it." "Huh? Knock me down?" "She said up, Dummy, not down. Whatever that means." I mean you'd have to get your father to squirt the stuff that makes mommies in you, so forget it. We'll discuss this properly some other time." "But Mom!" "Mom, you said we could talk to you about things like this anytime." "It's not fair." <Sigh.> "Mom?" "I suppose. OK. We'll have this out now. What do you want to know?" "Like I said, we want to know how we can have another brother or sister." "Uhuh." 2 "Well, I already TOLD both of you that I'm NOT going to have any more kids. It hurts too much, and I'm not going to go through nine months of pregnancy again, either. So that's out." "But Mom..." "Mom!" "Now what?!" "You said there was a way WE could do it." "I did not." "Did too, did too, did too!" "I SAID, you could have kids of your own. I did NOT say you could have your own brothers or sister. You can't. Why to do that, you'd have to... oh shit." "We'd have to what, Mom?" "Mom?" "Mom!" "You'd have to fuck your own father, and that's not going to happen. OK?" "Fuck?" "Put his penis inside you, and squirt his sperm in you, so you could have a baby." "Sperm?" "That white stuff, Dummy. The stuff Mom told us about that goes in a girl's... virginia, and makes her a mommy." "That's 'vagina' Marie." "See. You're not so smart yourself, Dumbbell." "That's enough squabbling girls." "Yes, Mom." "So how come Dad can't squirt this mommy-making juice in us then?" "Doesn't Dad love us?" "Kids! It isn't that at all." "Then what IS it?" "Well, in the first place, Dads just aren't supposed to make mommies of their own little girls." <Hmmmph!> <Snicker.> "OK... so nobody in our family really believes in what other people think we 'should do'. Maybe it was a mistake to teach you kids that." "Mom!" "OK. I wasn't suggesting you kids kowtow to all the stupid things that other people think is 'right' or 'wrong' or the 'thing to do'. I'm merely saying that I don't think it's a good idea." "Mom, you always told US, that when we made a statement like that, we had to either support it, or leave it." <Sigh.> "I suppose so. Girls, having a baby is NOT fun." "Hey, I heard that girls have LOTS of fun 'doing it'. Almost as much as boys do." "Even more sometimes." "So why are you telling us it isn't? Were you lying just now?" ><Silence.>< "Sorry, Mom. I apologize. But what DID you mean then?" "Yeah Mom, what did you mean?" 3 "MAKING a baby IS fun. Having one, is not." "Huh? But Cindy has LOTS of fun with her little brother." "I think she means diapers and getting up in the middle of the night, and stinky stuff like that, Dork." "I am NOT a dork. Mom! Tell Marie I'm not a dork! Mom! Tell Marie that wasn't what you meant." "OK. So you're not a dork. Then stop acting like one. I don't mind changing diapers anyway... even stinky ones. And I think it's WORTH getting up in the night to feed the baby, just to have a little brother or sister around. Just think of when he gets older." "Yeah!" "Can it girls. Marie, your sister is NOT a 'dork'. In fact, she's right. You're BOTH right, in fact." "Huh?" "HUH?" "Both your father and I do like babies, and yes, having a child around the house is WELL worth the effort of feeding clothing, and even diapering them. It's pregnancy and birth that's the problem." "Pregnancy?" "Birth?" "Think about it girls. Remember how big Mikey was when he was born?" "Uhuh... I think." "Well, before he was born, Aunt Joan was carrying him in her tummy." "Oh." "Omigosh! You mean THAT'S why she was so... so..." "... so fat?" "Yeah." "Uhuh. Only your Aunt Joan WASN'T fat; she was just pregnant. For nine months, Mikey was growing inside her tummy, until he got big enough to come out. That's what being born is, and it hurts. Being pregnant isn't a barrel of laughs either. With a baby inside you, sometimes you get sick. Towards the end you get big and heavy, and it's hard to get around. You have trouble sleeping when the baby kicks and squirms inside you, and you're always tired." "Oh." <Silence.> <Silence.> "Mom?" "Yes Hon?" "It isn't being pregnant that bothers you... I can tell. What is it?" <Sigh.> "No, you're right.If it was just pregnancy, I probably would have had four or even five or six kids by your father. For sure he would have been happy if I had. "So why didn't you? If Dad wanted them, and you like them, why not?" "Birth." "Birth? Like in 'Birthday'?" "Uh-huh. When a baby is born, it hurts." "Oh, come on, Mom! It can't hurt that much. I mean, people have babies all the time, and I don't hear anyone screaming all the time." "You aren't down at the hospital when they have them either, are you?" "What's that got to do with it, Mom? You said we weren't to make flat statements like that, without backing them up." <Sigh> "So I did. So I did. Look at it this way, girls: How would you like to have to pass a croquet ball?" <Silence> "Oh, come on, Mom, it can't be that bad." "No, it's worse. Think of it. When your father squirts his 'mommy-juice' in you, it goes up your vagina and into your tummy to make a baby. Now, how big is your vagina?" "I don't know, big enough, I guess." "Big enough... right. Have you girls ever seen your father's penis when it was hard?" "Hard?" "I have, Mom! It was... I don't know, about as long as my hand, and about as big around as my arm." "Well, not quite that big, honey. Your father's penis is about average size, about 6 inches long, and a little over an inch and 1/4 thick. Let me see your hand... well, maybe you're right. Your hand and arm are pretty small. Anyway, the question is, how would you like something that big shoved up your asshole?" "Ooouuuch!" "Ow. Makes me wince to think about it. Why, Mom?" "Just wait; I'll get there. Now, how would you like that thing going up your 'hole,' as you call it, your 'crack' or vagina?" "You're kidding, right? I remember once taking a shit that wasn't near as big as Dad's 'thing,' and it hurt like heck." "Me too." "And my hole is even smaller than that. No way. It wouldn't go in." "Well, that's the point. It would have to, if you were going to have your father's baby. In the second place, women's vaginas stretch. Even yours, Julie, will easily stretch to accept a bigger penis than your father's. It has to, if the man is going to squirt his sperm inside you and get you pregnant." "So what's the point, Mom?" "Well, think of this: While it might be a little painful the first time or two you get fucked, your vagina gets used to that, and after a while, it even starts to feel good." "Like Leanne said it does?" "Uh-huh, or even better. As I said earlier, it's fun making a baby." "If that's the case, then where's the trouble?" "Marie, Julie, I want you to think. Daddy squirts his 'mommy-juice' inside you, so you become a mommy. Where does it go?" "In my tummy?" "Close enough. So, if you're a 'Big Girl,' a baby starts to grow in your tummy, and after a few months, you get fat, like Aunt Joan did. Got that much?" <Silence> "So now for the big question... You've got a baby in your tummy... How does it get out? Remember how big Mikey's head was." "You don't mean..." "I shit him out?" "No, idiot... oops, sorry. No, the baby comes out the same way it went in. Stretching you all the way. If you think your vagina is too tight to take your father's penis, then think of what it will be like to feel a baby's head at almost four inches across forcing its way out of you. And like a big hard turd, it will come. You have no choice. Now do you see what I meant about 'shitting a croquet-ball'?" "Ooooh." "Yeah. Ouch." <Silence> "So let's not hear any more about this, OK?" "Uh, Mom?" <Sigh> "What, Julie?" "It only hurts for a while, doesn't it? I mean, like when I take a shit, I get over it, don't I?" "Well, yes, but... It hurts a lot more than that." "People do it all the time, don't they?" "Well, yes, but..." "And they aren't sorry they have kids, are they?" "Well..." "You aren't sorry you had us, are you?" "Of course not, honey. You're worth every bit of the pain." "That's what I thought. When can I do it?" "Huh?" "When can I have Dad teach me how to be a mommy, by squirting that stuff that makes girls into mommies in me?" "Hey! That's not fair! I want Dad to squirt 'mommy-juice' in me too!" "What?! After all that discussion about how painful it is, you still want to get pregnant?" "I told you over half an hour ago that I wanted another brother or sister." "Me too! I want to be a mommy to my little sister too!" "Oh, shit.""God, it's awful messy down there." "Mommy-juice is like that. Now you move over on the bed, and let your father's `mommy-juice' soak in, so you have a better chance to `catch' while I get my husband to take care of your big sister." "Huh? After `blowing a wad' like THAT, you expect me to... Marsha! You aren't listening to me. What do you think you're doing?!" "<Slurp.> <*Smack.*> Getting you ready; what do you think? Marie isn't in a condition to wait all day, you know. Marie... tell your father what you want him to do, while I work on him `down here.' THAT ought to get him up!" "Uh... Please Daddy? I want you to teach me how to make a baby, like you did Julie... Please Dad? Mom says when a baby gets big, you can feel it moving around inside you, and I want to feel what it's like to have my own little brother squirming inside my tummy. Please Dad? It isn't fair if Julie gets to feel you making a baby in her, when I don't. Mom says you could have been squirting mommy-juice in my tummy for years now. If you had, maybe I could have been a mommy two or three times already. It's not fair that Julie gets to go first. Please Dad? I want a baby too!" "<Mmmpthpt!> Hey! Ease up Marie! If you keep that up, your father's going to be squirting THIS load of `mommy-juice' down my throat, instead of up your tummy, like it belongs! Now quick! Get around here, before your father loses it again!" "OK, Mom... Daddy I... Oooooh. Oh, that feels good. Put some more in Dad, please? Oooh. Thanks Dad." "Oh shit, that feels good. Omigosh, here it... Oh. Oh God, that feels good. Now slide down a little Hon, so Dad can slide it in and out." "What are they doing Mom?" "They're fucking, Honey. Sliding in and out like that makes your father and sister feel real good. In a minute or two, your father is going to squirt his sperm inside your big sister, just like he did in you. OK?" "OK Mom... I guess. How come Dad didn't do that with me, and how come it didn't hurt Marie, like it did me?" "Well, as to the first, it's probably because being smaller, tighter, and being first, you were too sexy for your own good; so your father got too excited to NEED to fuck you like this. He couldn't help cumming in you. Sometimes you see, being first isn't necessarily being best." "Oh." "Second, your big sister is bigger inside, older, more developed, and quite possibly had already lost her hymen for one reason or another." "Oh. What's a hymen?" "That's a little piece of skin inside your vagina. Dad had to break it to get all the way up inside you. This only happens the first time. Remember how I said it would hurt?" "You didn't tell me it would hurt like THAT. You said it was like taking a shit. Still, it wasn't all THAT bad. You said he tore it. Does that mean I'm bleeding inside?" "Probably... in fact, almost certainly. I see a tinge of red on your father's penis right now. It's nothing to worry about... we'll take care of it later... after you let it soak in for a while." "OK Mom, if you say so." "Now hush. I think your father's about to squirt his `mommy-juice' inside your big sister." "<Squeak.> <Squeak.> <Squeak.>" "Oh Marie! Daddy loves you so." "<Squeak.> <Squeak.> <Squeak.>" "'love you too, Dad." "<Squeak.> <Squeak.> <Squeak.>" "Oh!... Oh God, I'm gonna..." "<Squeak, squeak, squeak.>" "Oh Daddy!" "<Squeak-squeak-squeak.>" "OOOoooouuugghhhh! Oh God." "Oh Daddy." "Oh." "Oh Daddy!!! Don't stop!" "I... I can't help it, Hon... I'm beat! Ooohh Sheeit!" "Daddeeeee!" "Oh get out of the way!... Stupid incompetent males! Here Honey, let me help." "But Mom! That's NASTY! That's where I PEE out of. I mean Daddy just..." "<Sluuurp!> <Lap, lap.>" "Oh Momma. Oh Mom. Oh." "<Slobbbber.>" "OH! Oh MommmmeeeeEEEEEEKKK! Ah. Ah! AAAuughh! Oh! Oh... oh. Thanks Mom, I needed that." "I could tell." "Wow! That was awesome! Mom?" "<Puff.> Yes, Hon?" "When can Dad fuck ME like that?" "Oh shit... I'm dead." "Sorry Dear, but your father is pretty much `used up', for right now. Even when he DOES recover, it'll be my turn. So why don't you kids go get washed-up, and ready for bed. Try not to wash ALL of the cum out of your holes, but try not to make a mess of the bed, either. OK?" "OK, Mom." "<Clatter... SLAM!... Click.>" "Uh, Dan?..." "Yuh?" "I have a confession to make." "What's that?" "I DID set the girls up on this. They don't know it, but I sent them over to visit the baby next-door, just to get them thinking about having a little brother of their own." "I FIGURED it was something like this." "Hush. They say confession is good for the soul, and I need to get this one off mine." "It's YOUR conscience." "Uhuh. Anyway, after I tricked Marie into asking me if I was going to have a baby, I steered the subject into where they were telling me how they wanted a baby-sister or baby-brother." "You already knew that." "Uhuh. But THEN I got REALLY sneaky. I slowly led them from the idea of ME having a baby, to THEM having a baby, and from there to their having YOUR baby, so it would be their own brother or sister... neat, huh?" "Well, if you think *I* am going to object..." "<Snicker.>" "Anyway, that cute scene about having you pump `mommy-juice' in their tummies so they could get to be big-girls and be mommies themselves, was kind of a bonus. I think it's real cute, don't you?" "<Groan.>" "Yep, I think you do. Just think... If you keep on squirting `mommy-juice' in those little girls' cute little tummies, you might just be able to father three, four, or even five kids on each of our daughters before they get out of high-school." "You don't REALLY expect me to get them pregnant that many times do you? I mean, Julie's only..." "Old enough to bleed, is old enough to breed. Besides, that just gives you that many MORE chances to get her pregnant before she even gets out of grade-school, let alone high-school." "Ooooh! You really DO expect me to get them pregnant. And here I thought I was the `dirty old man'!" "Well... actually I just expect you to TRY. As long as you make sure they both get lots of your `mommy-juice' in their tummies, then when or if they get pregnant will take care of itself. We only have to wait. So we'll just worry about that little thing, when their panties start to get tight, OK?" "OK, I guess." "Good. Now I want a little of this myself; so remember: I promised the girls that from now on you'd see to it that they both got lots of the white stuff that makes mommies out of little girls in their tummies from now on. So I don't want you to neglect either one of them." "<Groan.>"

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/8007.txt

Johnny D.

The Power

"Power. That's what it comes down to. Sex is just about power. Did you know that?" Sorry, darling, I can't answer you because your cock's in my throat. "Power over women, the power to sexually satisfy them, to make them cum again and again and again; that's the key." Say, just what are you on about? "You see, very few men can exert that power, because most men can't satisfy a woman fully. I'm lucky, I'm one of the few who can." I've never known any man talk so much while being deep-throated. This is your cock, and not some fake rubber protrusion, right? "That's why there are so many lesbians, you see. They're not attracted to other women, but they haven't been able to find a man who can satisfy them. If they're lucky, then they meet me. I cure them." What total garbage. I'd tell you so, too, if only I could talk with all this man-meat jammed in my esophagus. "And now I'm going to satisfy you, because I have the power." Hey, mate, take your hands away this instant! I don't like men who try to crush my face into their crotch, especially not when their cocks are down my throat! "Get ready, darling, you're about to be satisfied." I'm not joking now; get your hands off my head NOW or I'll castrate you with my teeth! "Here it comes... Ooohhhhwuuuugggghhhh..." Oh, nice, I'm forced to have your cum inseminated straight into my stomach. I don't even get to taste it! Right, Mr. I've-Got-The-Power, you've asked for it. "There; I'll bet you've never felt satisfaction like that before, eh?" Don't think you can get around me by just removing your hands - it's too late for that. Maybe I will bite your cock off - no, I've got a better idea. Gosh, doesn't your cock get limp fast. I didn't take it out of my mouth, it shrunk itself out of my mouth! This smile is false, by the way, and so is the satisfied sigh and the way I'm clutching at you in a sexually exhausted manner. Satisfied my foot! Just give you a minute or two of false security... Ah, good, you're dozing off. Poor pet. Unfortunately for you, we chose to come back to my place. Did you know I keep a wide variety of sex toys in a drawer at my bedside? No? Well, you're about to learn. Let's see... Ah, yes, these handcuffs will do for starters. Click - one done. Click - two done. Oh dear, the clicks have woken you up... "Errrrhhhhhhh - Eh? What's this?" Don't ask stupid questions, darling - I've handcuffed your hands to the headboard, so it isn't a crochet lesson! If I told you it was a bit of light bondage, would you believe me? Probably not. On the other hand, maybe you would... Only one way to find out.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/7470.txt

deirdre

Gathering

"I'm sure it will," Jean, my wife, had just suggested things would be better when we got Peg home, and I couldn't help but agree. Peg was my younger sister who was flying in from the coast to join me and my older sister, Sandra, for a family visit. We hadn't seen Peg for a couple of years, but had finally convinced her to come--that we had to make an effort to see each other now that our parents were gone. We'd only had Sandra for a few hours, and already we were desperate. Yes, I love both my sisters, but Sandra really can be overbearing. I know how to ignore most of her offensive remarks, but Jean gets really uptight--every night with Sandra, she's ready to explode by the time we retire to our own room. Sandra lives close enough that we get to see her a few times a year, and I hate to say it, but I often wish it was Peg who lived closer. I didn't recognize Peg. At least not instantly, the way I thought I would. Her hair was short--well, not a buzz or anything like that, but short enough that I'm sure taking care of it was a snap. And she had had long, silky hair down to her shoulders when she left! She was dressed in jeans and a rather tight leather top--I wondered how she got it to fit so snugly--it didn't hide her shape a bit. She is a bit flat, but she'd get stares in that outfit anyway. I gave her a hug, and though she smiled at me, she seemed more reserved. Somehow I had expected her to be bouncing around more or something. She was only 20 and was still allowed to be exuberant. But it was nice to see her and talk to her, and I could tell that Jean was happy to see her too. Arriving home, we pushed a glass of wine in her hand and talked pleasantly until Sandra returned from visiting one of her old high-school chums. Then it was pleasant for about five minutes before Sandra's bossy ways started grating on my nerves again. She had comments about Peg's hair and outfit and about her flying off like she did, aside from telling Jean about how best to serve supper among other things. Inwardly I sighed. I was a little surprised at Peg. I'd expected Sandra to get a rise out of her--Peg and Sandra used to go at it tooth and nail--but Peg seemed to let it roll off her. It seemed to all the world to me like Sandra simply tried harder to get a rise out of her. She interrogated her about her life, inserting comments here and there that were certain to bother Peg's sense of independence. But Peg just took it all, though I once saw her expression while she was looking away from Sandra, and I froze. I guess it seemed like a look of determination, but somehow it surprised me to see Peg like that. I was almost afraid to send those two upstairs, even if we had separate bedrooms for them. They went up when Jean and I retired to our room, and I heard Sandra nagging all the way up the stairs, and heard her voice continue after that. Jean and I got in bed and couldn't help but hearing conversation stop and start over and over upstairs. There weren't any shouting matches or anything, but it was easy enough to discern Sandra's disapproving voice. It continued so long I finally started dropping off--but then I was suddenly awakened by a loud scream! I sat up, and Jean was sitting next to me. "What was it?" she said, confused. I turned on a lamp, and we both got up and went out. There wasn't any sound in the house at all. We ran upstairs. The door to Sandra's bedroom was open, and she wasn't there. Peg's door was closed. "Peg!" I said as I knocked. "What!" she said from behind the door. "What was that? What happened?" "Nothing!" "Peg! Where's Sandra?" She opened the door a crack. "She's in here with me." "Who screamed? Was that her?" "She had a nightmare. She's OK." "Are you sure?" "Yes! Go back to bed!" She was acting weird. And she never opened the door another inch. But Jean and I left them and went back to bed. It took me (and Jean) a little while to settle down again--it had been such a shock! The next morning, we got up, and breakfast was cooking! We got to the kitchen, and Sandra was making eggs and bacon, and Peg was eating. But I stared at what they were wearing! Sandra was in a short nightshirt-type thing that was slit a little up her hips. I'd seen her sleeping clothes before, and it was always a long baggy nightgown. Peg was dressed in a little t-shirt and just bikini panties! They both seemed dressed a little indecently, even if they were my sisters. Jean seemed taken aback too--she and I had our robes on. Peg offered us eggs. Sandra didn't say anything but just cooked. There wasn't a place set for her or anything, but Peg asked her to set us places, and she did it immediately. Peg asked us how we wanted our eggs. After Peg put down Jean's protests, we answered her. Sandra didn't say anything but just started making eggs according to our requests. We sat at the table. I looked at Peg. She looked at the two of us and smiled. It was such a self-satisfied smile that it took me aback. Peg had certainly changed! After breakfast, Peg went to get dressed, and Sandra stayed and did the dishes. I'd never seen anything like it! Jean and I got dressed too and came out to find Peg dressed in a long mid-calf jean skirt over, I guess, a leotard. She wore boots. The outfit seemed almost late-70s to me. Sandra came out of the kitchen still in the little nightshirt. She went up to change, and Peg followed her. They came down again in a little while, Sandra in a dress. It was a little sexier than I remember Sandra wearing. I remember her shoes for some reason. They were leather but reminded me of slippers. Peg said they had to go out for a while. They left in Sandra's car. "What's gotten into them?" asked Jean. "I don't know," I said. I certainly was getting confused. Sandra insisted on cooking dinner that evening, and Peg convinced Jean to let her. And that's the only time I remembered Sandra saying anything the whole day! I didn't know what to make of it. We had plans to go to a movie that night. Peg said we should go ahead, that she and Sandra would just stick around. She said they'd seen the movie. That was ridiculous because we'd planned it as an activity for all of us--we'd just pick a different movie. Peg finally agreed to come. When we talked about movies to go see, Peg suggested one that was playing at the local art house. It was a foreign film noted mostly for its nudity, and I was a bit surprised that Peg picked it. I figured Jean wouldn't like it--she's always running down nudity in movies--but we went and watched it, and Jean didn't say anything. We got back and went to bed. This time when the two went upstairs, everything was quiet. I remained amazed but still settled down and dropped off. It was dark, and someone was shaking me, gently. "Dave!" I heard whispered. The light next to my bed went on, and I was blinded. It was Peg, standing next to the bed. "Dave! Get up!" "What is it?" "Just come on and get up!" I looked at the clock: 12:15 AM. I looked at Jean. She wasn't there! "Where's Jean?" "She's all right. Get up and get dressed!" We both spoke in hushed tones. "What's going on?" "Never mind. I'll show you." I was just wearing my underpants. I pulled my clothes over them. I felt a little funny with Peg there watching me, but she *is* my sister. We were walking out into the hall. "Now," I started again, "what's going on?" "Come!" she said and started upstairs, quietly. The lights were off. When we got to the upstairs hall, light shown around the door of Sandra's room, which was almost but not all the way closed. "Quiet!" she whispered. "Now, look!" and she slowly opened the door a crack. She waved me to poke my head in, opening it just enough so I could do so. I stuck my head in and looked. Jean and Sandra were in there!Sandra was in her little nightshirt, sitting on the side of the bed, and Jean was totally naked, kneeling between her legs, her face pressed to Sandra's crotch! I stared, transfixed. Sandra held Jean's hair in her fingers. Jean's hands were tied, behind her back. I pulled out. "What!?" I exclaimed, but still in a whisper. "Come!" said Peg, pulling me back downstairs. "What's going on?" I asked. "Jean's always wondered what it would be like with a woman," said Peg. "It works out perfectly with Sandra because Jean tends to want to submit." I stared. This was about the last thing I'd ever have thought, let alone said, about Jean! My Jean? It was so crazy! "You saw them there," said Peg as if reading my thoughts. "Come on," she added, pulling on my arm. I was in such a daze, I followed right along. She pulled me outside to my car. Soon she was driving us. "Peg!" "What!" "Where are we going?" I finally asked as if I'd just realized what was happening. "Kathy's." Kathy is Jean's younger sister who lives in town. "What for?" "You'll see," she answered. Later she said, "You're going to seduce her." "Kathy!?" "Yes. It'll be easy for you--she's dying for you." "Kathy!?" Peg had to be wrong. "Oh, *you* don't see these things." Then we were silent. "Why?" I finally asked. "I... wait and see." That's all I attempted to find out. Soon we were knocking on Kathy's door and she came out, obviously having been awakened. Peg said we'd been out late to a movie and had stopped for a drink. I was sure Kathy would be annoyed as hell but she didn't seem to mind. Soon we were sitting in her living room, drinking--Kathy in her robe, me in the jeans and shirt I'd quickly thrown on and Peg dressed too--in jeans and a little top that didn't quite cover her middle. Peg made small talk with Kathy who seemed to have awakened. We'd had two drinks each and Kathy went to get something (not seeming at all like she wanted to throw us out) and Peg said "She's ready. Go for her." "Peg!" "Go in there! Gee Dave--when she comes back in, go sit next to her. She's hot for you!" "Peg, you're crazy." "You're blind. She's coming back. Get up!" and she sort of shoved me out of my seat and I stood. I faced Kathy and looked at her when she came in. She did have a sort of shy way of looking at me that I could interpret as hopeful. I took the whiskey she had brought out of her hand and asked her if she wanted another drink. "OK," she said and she glanced at Peg. Then she walked with me to the other liquor and stood right next to me as I made another round. Suddenly I was mentally agreeing with Peg--Kathy seemed to be hanging on my sleeve. I'd always found Kathy attractive but had mentally kept her off limits even from my fantasies: my sister-in-law. She was definitely cute. I realized she was wearing a different robe: a silky one instead of the terry one she'd been in before. I handed her a drink and she took it over to Peg. Peg took it, thanked her and walked out of the room! I stood there with two drinks in my hand. Kathy came back, a little smile on her face. She took both drinks out of my hand and set them back on the bar. Then she stood there in front of me. Suddenly my arms were around her and we were kissing. Then we were sitting on the couch, kissing more. It was so sweet. Peg was there, next to us. "Undress her," she whispered in my ear. We broke our kiss. Kathy stared at Peg. She looked like she didn't know what to do with Peg right there. "Get undressed," Peg said right to Kathy! When Kathy didn't move, Peg reached up and started undoing her robe. Kathy let her--helped a little in fact and then Peg was pulling Kathy's nightgown over her head! Kathy sat there nude, still looking confused. "Kiss her," said Peg. We were kissing again--right there in front of Peg. Her naked skin under my fingers was heaven. She was so passionate. "Finger her," came Peg's whisper in my ear. My fingers went between Kathy's legs. She was wet. Her breathing grew as I fingered her. I continued fingering her and she continued to breathe harder and harder. "Tell her to kiss me," came the whisper in my ear. "Hurry!" I couldn't believe it! "Stop fingering her until she does it!" Peg's lips were on my ear. I wasn't completely immune to the feelings *that* was causing. "Kiss Peg!" I said. Kathy stared at me but was still out of breath. Peg had turned away from my ear and was next to me, facing Kathy. "Kiss her!" I said. Rather than stop fingering her, I slipped two fingers inside of her. She gasped. "Now!" I repeated. Peg leaned toward her and in seconds they were kissing. I continued to finger her, watching the two of them. Then I felt Peg's fingers at Kathy's cunt and soon I withdrew, leaving it to Peg. Suddenly Peg dropped to her knees, pushing her face between Kathy's legs. Kathy immediately came in loud gasps. I stared. Peg pulled her onto the floor while she was still trying to get her breath and had her on her back, straddling her in another second. Peg looked up at me and smiled. She massaged Kathy's breasts and fingered and pinched her nipples. Kathy seemed to come to her senses. "Hey!" she called. Her arms shot out, to Peg's body, trying to push her off. "Help me!" Peg said to me. I grabbed Kathy's arms. Peg lifted her body enough to pin them under her next to Kathy's body. "Tell her to stop it," said Peg. I stared. "Tell her to relax!" she said more vociferously. I leaned close to Kathy. "Kathy. Relax." I said. "Why are you doing this to me?" she said. Hearing her voice, I wondered if she were about to cry. "Don't say you didn't enjoy it," said Peg and she giggled, "Now you're going to return the favor, little slut!" Kathy whimpered. "Tell her to do this," Peg went on. "Kiss her and tell her." I got down next to Kathy and kissed her. "Do it," I whispered in her ear. Peg had stood up and I glanced back to see her removing her panties. She was naked. Her slim little body was everything I'd imagined. She pushed my head away from Kathy's with her foot, straddled her head, and lowered herself. I sat up next to her. She pulled me into a kiss and her tongue was in my mouth. Then her lips were at my ear again: "Having fun?" she asked. I fucked Kathy's rear that night. She was licking Peg at the time--it seemed she licked Peg almost all night. Peg took my cock in her own mouth--Kathy still licking her--in fact Peg took it all in. I was amazed! Peg and I drove off at dawn, leaving Kathy lying on the floor in her living room. "Let's go back to California," she said. Out of the blue! I was astounded. "What about Jean?" I asked. "She isn't going to stay with you. She'll go back with Sandra." "What about Kathy?" "There'll be *other* Kathys."

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/7135.txt

Corvidae1

Red Rain

"So," I hemmed 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?"

Four: Champagne Supernova

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/9385.txt

Kristen 'Kathy' Becker

Trip To Lake Tahoe

"It is now safe to turn your computer off." I had just finished answering my last e-mail. It was to Bronwen, one of the fearless leaders of the erotic writer's guild. (Which I am a proud junior member of.) I had made a post to our Internet newsgroup that I was going to Lake Tahoe for a week, and she had asked me if going to Lake Tahoe was a good thing. I thought that it was. Even if I did have to do some work, I'd get some skiing in too. So I had responded, "I'll let you know when I get back." As I punched the off button on the computer, I looked up at the clock on the wall of my bedroom and noticed that I'd been messing around a little too long and realized that if I wanted to make my 4:30 flight, I'd better get my butt in gear. As I pulled out of the long driveway to my apartment house and headed toward Portland up Highway 20, I made a mental list of the stuff I was taking with me. This whole trip was kind of weird. My boss had called me only the day before to inform me we were going to have a "Corporate Retreat" in a little town called Stateline, just north of Lake Tahoe. He said that the meetings would be held on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday. Then on Saturday, we'd take the day off and go skiing on Mount Rose. I think the whole thing was supposed to make us more like a team. Well, as long as I have my skis on the roof rack, I am up for anything. This was like a vacation for me. I love to travel. Any excuse is a good one as far as I'm concerned. I'd fly to Buffalo, New York, just for the fun of flying there. (That may give you an idea of the lengths I'd go just to travel.) I don't get to travel a lot, and being 20, I don't have loads of cash. Basically, I live in three rooms in a huge old farmhouse/mansion off of Highway 20 on the edge of the Deschutes National Forest. It's a neat old house, but my space in it is "small" and only costs me $350 a month. Since I own my 1977 Ford Explorer (built a year before I was born) and my computer belongs to the company I work for, my actual expenses are pretty low. But somehow, I always seem to live just a little over my income. Contact with the outside world is pretty limited when the biggest city near you is a place called Bend. (It's okay that you probably have never heard of Bend. It's sort of in the middle of Oregon, and there's not a lot of reason for anyone to know that it even exists.) At any rate, I was stoked! Heading up the fog-shrouded road to fun and adventure, with a slight guilt pang that my boyfriend Jeff couldn't come with me. But then, this was business, and I'd be working for three days (sort of -- wink, wink). He was in the middle of a project just then anyway and had been up in Seattle for almost a week when my boss called. (Jeff's a Structural Engineer.) I made Portland just fine. Got parked and through the construction-wracked terminal in time to be one of the blessed first thirty passengers on Southwest flight 1709 to Sacramento. (They don't have assigned seats, and even though I like people, I hate having to sit in a middle seat.) We boarded and left right on time. My plan was to catch up on reading several of my friends' Internet stories via the old laptop during the 1 1/2-hour flight to Sacramento. I was sitting next to an older man (40ish) and made a special effort to introduce myself to him and get to know him a little. He turned out to be a salesman and also a reverend; he had his own church. His little congregation met at his house each Sunday. I usually draw my neighbor into reading my stories during a flight, unless I'm traveling with Jeff, then we keep each other busy. I like to get their reaction; it's fun to let them know that I write erotic stories for the Internet. And it's fun to see if they get aroused sitting there beside me while we read a selected story together. (I've had several interesting things happen doing this on a flight, which I should probably write about sometime.) But I didn't think that my salesman/preacher would appreciate what I was up to, so I positioned the computer screen toward the window so he couldn't read it. I was determined to read without making any outward signs of what I was doing. Luckily, I had already read Woodsmoke's story (It really makes me crazy when someone uses my name in their story. For some reason, that turns me on to imagine myself in a story.) But as I read the story list, no one else had done that, and I was able to get through every story without giving myself away, although some of those stories did make me kind of crazy. Well, everything went all right, and we landed at Sacramento International at 6:45 PM. But as I was walking through the rather seedy-looking terminal, an announcement came over the loudspeaker. "Kristen Becker, please pick up a white courtesy phone." That surprised me -- nothing like that had ever happened to me before. As a matter of fact, I wasn't sure what a white courtesy phone was. But being smarter than the average blonde, I quickly figured out that the white phones on the wall must be what they meant. It turned out that Andreaus (The big boss) had a son who was also attending our little retreat. And he wanted me to meet him at the Southwest Baggage claim and bring him with me to the meeting. Well... I have to admit I was put off a little by this. Apparently Antonio (Seems like all the men in my boss' family have "An" names of some kind or other) wouldn't be 18 for two more months, and therefore couldn't rent a car on his own. So I was stuck. It's hard to say no to the boss, especially when he's covering all your expenses for a day on the slopes, if you know what I mean. I was wearing my black cold-weather outfit that day, and when I walked into the baggage claim, I got a good response from the men in the area. (I make a point of wearing tight outfits. It's fun to watch the lengths some men will go to, to get a good look at some leg. I'm not a really bad tease or anything, I just know that I look good in tight pants.) And there was Antonio, standing by the carousel, undressing me with his eyes. I was taken aback a little by the unrelenting stare he was giving my body. And I do mean my body; I don't think he looked into my face until I was standing right in front of him, offering him a hand to shake. Looking back, it was kind of funny, because when I shook his hand, it was real sweaty, and he realized at that moment that he'd been staring like an idiot and became super embarrassed. His dad is around 50 or so and has gray hair, so I had no idea what color it had been when he was younger. Putting aside the sweaty handshake, Antonio's most outstanding feature was his lovely auburn-red hair. Lots of wavy hair, the kind that seems to fall into place without doing anything to it. (I suspected it was an expensive haircut.) He was also quite handsome, but then I find most men handsome in one way or another. After the introduction was over, we grabbed a luggage-cart and filled it with our baggage and skis, then headed toward the buses that take you to the rentals. As we went out the terminal doors, I realized that the weather had turned ugly. You could actually see the clouds moving overhead. The wind is something else in Sacramento; it cuts right through you, even in cold-weather clothing. But I didn't mind, I just walked faster and made Antonio run after me to try to keep up. Anyone who knows me knows that I'm a little bit pushy. It's not that I'm rude or mean in the slightest, I just have a hard time with slow people.I'm very athletic and feel that men have a big advantage over women strength-wise, and I have little patience with men who complain and can't keep up with me. I gave little Antonio a hard time when he began to whine at me about the pace I had set, so I walked faster... I also said something that offended his masculinity, and after that, he was pretty sullen for a while. But things livened up when we got into our 1998 Blazer, and it wouldn't start. I had to get an attendant to take a look at the vehicle for me. He kind of pissed me off when he took the attitude that I was just another dumb blonde who didn't know anything about cars. Well... anyway, it was a bad fuse. It took him a while to figure it out. I was ready for another car, but they didn't have any more four-wheel-drive vehicles on the lot, and I thought with the crummy weather, it would be wise to stay with a four-wheel drive since we were going to do some mountain driving. The short version is: We finally left the Sacramento airport about 7:30 PM, heading south on Interstate 5. I had no trouble finding the junction to Hwy. 50 and then pushed the pedal to the metal. South Tahoe is a little over two hours from Sacramento, and I wanted to get to the hotel long before 10 PM, so I was hurrying things a bit. About Placerville, the fog and snow started. The snow began falling like we were in the middle of a blizzard. I had to slow down to fifty just to see twenty feet in front of me. (So much for 10 PM) I started to get worried when I saw the fog thickening. Slowing the Blazer down to twenty-five, we began to creep up the two-lane road. I knew we were in trouble just after we passed Kyburz, and the side of the hill to the right had slid down into the river that ran along the side of the road. There had been a forest fire sometime in the past year or two, and the soil erosion was obvious even in the dark. I stopped the truck in the middle of the snow-covered road as we watched the soil and tree stumps fall all the way into the rushing river. It was dark, and the only reason we'd seen the hill go was that the area had been framed in the headlights of the Blazer when it let loose. Realizing that the weather was turning worse, I pushed on, hoping to make the remaining twenty-nine miles to Lake Tahoe before any other nasty things happened. About ten miles farther on, the big one happened. The truck stopped. I mean everything stopped. The headlights went out, the engine stopped, and we were sitting in the middle of the road. I kept trying to start the engine, but after turning the key fifty times with nothing happening, I finally stopped. Antonio, in his helpful male adolescent way, suggested that it might be a fuse. I knew that! It just hadn't occurred to me yet. So I scrunched down to look at the area the rental guy had been working on and started to pick at the panel that covered it. Well... I couldn't seem to get it off, and finally, Antonio got tired of me hitting the dashboard and swearing at the plastic covering and got out of the passenger seat and slogged around the Blazer. Opening my door, he leaned in and flipped the hatch open. He flicked a Bic lighter to see what he was doing and soon found the bad fuse. As if he knew what he was doing, he kept moving them around until the headlights flashed on. I turned the ignition, and the engine started up immediately. And promptly stopped again right after Antonio reclaimed the passenger seat. Cursing, he moved to open his door again, but I grabbed his arm and said, "just climb over me, and I'll move to your side. The snow's getting too deep, and it's colder than the North Pole out there." Little Antonio hesitated, then did what I had suggested. I hadn't planned on him rubbing his face across my chest, though, but I gave him the benefit of the doubt and didn't punch him in the nuts to wipe the dumb smile off his face. (Here's another one of those "To make a long story short" statements.) We couldn't get the Blazer to start again. Antonio guessed that the lower-rated fuses just popped their little filament thingies whenever we turned on the ignition. So there we were, stuck! The snow was coming down in buckets, and the wind was whistling through a crack that I had left open on the driver's side window and couldn't close because they were power windows. (And they no longer worked) Needless to say, it only took ten minutes for all the residual heat to be sucked out of the truck. It was about this time that I noticed that no other cars had gone by us for almost a half-hour. I could barely see the tire tracks that were filling with snow in front of us. (We learned later that when that hill had slid down into the river, it had created a temporary damming effect. That had brought the water level up to overflow the pavement. The authorities soon came on the situation and stopped the uphill traffic until morning, as well as at the top of the mountain too, and rerouted everyone another way. But what really PO'ed me was that no one checked the road to make sure it was empty. I guess they figured that everyone would keep traveling, and the authorities at the slide couldn't see us because we were miles up the road.) I figured *something* was wrong because Hwy. 50 is a comparatively important artery between Lake Tahoe and the outside world. We waited another hour before I decided to put on the rest of my ski clothes over the stuff I was already wearing. This is when I found out that sweet little Antonio only had a shaving kit and his laptop in his carry-on. He told me that his dad had everything and that he was supposed to pick his stuff up at the consignor once we arrived. (Oh great!) I'm 5'4" and at my heaviest I've never weighed more than 115 (well, maybe 120 for six months back in the eighth grade). Antonio, on the other hand, was an inch over 6 feet and probably weighed 175 lbs. (Yes, he is big for his age, isn't he?) Which wasn't a problem before we got stuck in a fog-blown snowstorm with sub-zero weather all around us. I hated doing it, but I told Antonio to put my parka on, (Which would probably never be the same after that) and since there was absolutely no hope of him fitting into my pants, (Damn those tight pants anyway) I had him wrap as much spare clothing as we had around his legs. The only problem we had was that we were both still freezing. We talked for what seemed like days. I found out that Andy (yes, he preferred that to Antonio) was a musician, and that his dad didn't like that one bit. I found out that he thought of himself as a square peg being forced into a round hole. (His words, not mine) And that he wanted nothing more than his father's approval for what he was, not for what his father wanted him to be. I could identify with that. Not that my folks harassed me or anything. They had my older sister Amy for that. I was the angelic fair-haired child compared to her. (Amy did things like sending naked pictures of herself out on the Internet, and then getting caught when a friend of the family told dad about it.) The point is, Andy and I were connecting, I was starting to think there was a brain behind those handsome "blank" eyes of his. But inevitably, being a teenage boy, Andy brought the subject around to sex. We were talking about the Internet and where the company's future was heading when little Andy said. "You know I probably have the world's largest collection of pornography on my computer." I raised an eyebrow and asked, "What kind of pornography are we talking about, little man?" "Nude pictures and dirty sex stories." He looked me straight in the eyes, waiting for me to be shocked and horrified. I just smiled my most innocent smile and asked him, "Do you have any with you on your laptop?" "Uh, yeah, I do. You want to see some?" He asked, a little worried now. I asked him how many pictures and how many stories he had in his collection. He proudly told me that he had hundreds. He had piqued my curiosity -- it's not every day you meet a fellow erotic items collector in real life. Andy pulled his laptop out and turned it on. He began coyly to bring up picture after picture. I was surprised at the screen quality. (My laptop has a liquid crystal screen, and pictures don't look that great on it.) I could quickly tell that little Andy was a "doggy-style" man. It seemed that just about all his pictures were of couples having sex doggy-style. (It still amazes me that some people can get so caught up in one thing to the exclusion of all the other good stuff in the world.) After seeing some of his collection of pictures, I could tell that he was becoming aroused. (This I didn't need.) But at the same time, his computer was sitting in my lap, and it was nice and warm. I was in heaven, I couldn't believe he didn't know that I was getting all this great heat. If I told him I didn't want to see anymore of his pictures, he would probably turn the computer off. I definitely didn't want him to do that. So we continued to look at his adolescent dream-scapes for another hour until his computer started to beep a low battery warning. Disappointed but somewhat warmed, I watched him turn it off and stow it in his carry-on. Andy had surprised me with his "guy" collection just before the battery warning went off. He had a nice collection of men, and I had to admit that I was just a little warmer than I would have been otherwise, from looking at them. I've always loved to look at naked men. (Not that I've had all that many chances to do it.) It took Jeff a little while to get used to me always asking him to take his clothes off. As far as I'm concerned, if the heat's up in the apartment, there's no reason that he has to wear clothes.And he looks so nice naked. We sat for another hour in the cold when I realized that I had to pee, and it quickly became an urgent dilemma for me. I think that if I'd been alone I might have just used the Burger King Coke cup sitting in its holder, but with Andy in the car this was out of the question. Finally, I said, "I gotta pee, I'll be right back." I was gone for no more than a couple of minutes taking care of my urgent business, when I opened the car door and jumped back in the driver's seat; I was instantly ready to knock little Andy Pascoe's block off. His dad might be my boss, but the little shit had dug my computer out of my carry-on and was running it, warming his lap. "HEY! BOZO! What the hell do you think you're doing?" I yelled in my most commanding tone. He looked up at me with a beatific smile on his face and said two words that stopped me in my tracks. "Kristen's collection." I was speechless. I'd never thought about the consequences of having someone actually find out *who* I am. Thoughts about being fired from my job, about this little jerk telling the whole world *who* I am. I mean, he had access to my home address, my home phone. Then he said, "Guess I didn't even know what I was talking about, did I? So you're Kristen, huh. Who'da guessed?" He just stared at me as my computer battery started beeping. "You ought to keep it charged better," he said as he shut it down. "I was using it on the plane, now give it here. If you say anything to anyone, I'll have to have you murdered. I hope you know that!?" Andy just smiled back at me and said, "I hadn't thought about it, but this does give me a little power in our relationship, doesn't it?" "Relationship? We don't have a relationship. You're just a twerpy snoop who should have his legs broken at the knees." I knew that I probably sounded pretty stupid, but I was flustered and had no idea what to do. "God, it's cold in here. I don't think you have to worry about me saying anything, we're going to freeze to death tonight anyway. I'm starting to worry whether we're going to make it." His teeth were beginning to chatter from the cold now. If the truth be known, I was worried too. Not so much about dying, but frostbite was a real threat. "Come on, we have to get in the back of the truck. If we lie down beside each other and cover ourselves with everything we have, maybe our combined body heat will give us a little warmth." It's all I could think of to say. Ever since I had gone outside to pee, I hadn't been able to get warm again. I was starting to lose the feeling in my toes, and the last thing I wanted was frozen toes. We climbed into the back of the Blazer and threw all my spare clothes on top of us. I rolled over on my side and told Andy to spoon me. "And don't get any stupid adolescent ideas either." I thought I'd better throw that cautionary in for good measure. After what seemed like weeks, I looked at my ladies Swiss Army watch; it glowed back at me, almost mockingly. We'd only been laying there for less than twenty minutes. My toes were completely numb now. I could feel the cold creeping up my legs. I was so cold by then that I knew I wouldn't even be able to walk. Not that there was any place to walk to. I asked Andy, "How do you feel?" "I'm really cold, and what's worse; now I'm cold and I'm horny. Do you have any idea what laying like this is doing to me?" His voice cracked on the word "this". Normally I'd good-naturedly tease him about his voice, but at the moment I was in pain. Slowly I came to the realization that we were in terrible trouble here. If someone didn't come down the road soon, we might both be damaged for life. I could just picture my feet with no toes, and myself hobbling around on stumps for the rest of my life. That vision sparked me into action. The same thought kept running through my head. It was a saying a girlfriend of mine used to say a lot. "Have you ever noticed that when you're having sex that a head-cold, or an allergy seems to go away. It's like while you're 'doing it' your body corrects any malfunction, or your mind regulates the body to make it feel better." She used to think that this theory proved that everything was based on mind over matter. A little hesitantly, I asked Andy, "How do your feet feel?" He responded in a muffled voice, "Like needles are being stuck in them. I'm so cold I don't think I'll be able to take it much longer." With a resigned sigh, I reached my hand behind me and cupped his crotch. "How does this feel?" I asked. "Hey!" he yelped, his voice breaking again in his surprise. I could feel his body jump when my fingers gripped him through his pants. Many thoughts ran through my mind right then. All the reasons why I shouldn't be doing this, and almost as quickly I answered myself with the arguments why I should. 'I shouldn't do this because it would be cheating on Jeff.' I answered that problem quickly with the argument that he would understand the situation called for drastic methods.' Then I thought, 'I don't have any condoms', and just as quickly my brain manufactured the obvious answer that 'Andy was obviously a virgin so I wouldn't catch anything from him'. Then, boom, another problem; 'You'll get fired if his dad finds out that you fucked his little pride and joy', of course that argument against death or dismemberment was easy to overcome. Soon I had reconciled myself to what I was going to do. Slowly I began to massage Andy through the material of his pants. He quieted down for a bit and just lay there and let me feel him. But soon he began writhing around behind me. The thought occurred to me that I wasn't doing this just to get him off. We needed to generate serious body heat, and for both of us. But at the same time, I knew that Andy wouldn't last very long the first time either. So I rolled over facing him and started to kiss him on the lips. (I love kissing guys. It's even better than dancing with them, and I LOVE to dance.) It never fails to get me going, when I kiss a guy, even Andy. And I very badly needed to get myself in the *mood* for what I knew must to be done. He was kissing me back now. I could just barely make out his face in the dark as we kissed. His eyes were closed tight and he had this desperate look on his face. I could tell he was lost in the sensations of the moment. It was very touching to see his urgency. I kept my eyes open and watched him responding to me. After a short while, I steeled myself for the next step. Andy needed to get that first orgasm out of the way, and I didn't want to have to lay in his wet spots for the rest of the night. That left me with a decision: which way to take him. I decided quickly, and reached with both hands to unfasten his pants. I figured that he would last about ten seconds and I didn't want him spurting all over everything just in case he couldn't hold it. Pants unfastened, boner out and waving. I shut my eyes and kissed it. Then I was worried that if I messed around he'd make that mess I didn't want all over me. So I did one of my Jeff specials. Jeff likes it best when I just give him lip friction in fast deep dives, then on the withdrawal he likes it when I swirl my tongue on the underside and at the little flange at the head. I do that ten or twelve times then I take him in my hands and slowly jack his long wang, then the dives again. I repeat that until he can't hold back any more and I either take him internally, or I let him shoot all over the place. I only do that when I want to reward him for something he's done really nice for me, otherwise I'm a little more selfish about sex. With little Andy, it only took three dives and he was groaning and jerking around underneath me. I was enjoying myself for a moment. Until all those thoughts popped into my mind as Andy pumped his sperm down my throat. I was *cheating* on Jeff. Then the next moment I was mad at *Jeff* for making me feel guilty. Didn't he want me to stay alive and in one piece? It's not like I was going to run away with this kid or anything. (Isn't it funny how we can turn the blame around for anything when the occasion warrants?) I kept swallowing Andy's sperm; I was beginning to find it hard to keep swallowing. I felt a little bloated by the time he had his last spasm in my mouth. Even though I was a little queasy from taking so much of a strange guy's spunk, I was *glad* that it wasn't freezing on our skin, or on the carpet beneath us. Andy's eyes were still closed, and my hand was still on his nice looking cock. I took the opportunity to look at his pole as it stuck out of the fly of his pants. It had the nicest shape. I've only seen a few guys in real life, but his was one of the nicest real life weenies I'd ever seen. It was kind of thick and probably about five inches long - but it was so sculptured. I'm not making a lot of sense, am I? I guess you had to be there to know what I'm talking about. Although I felt a little better blood circulation-wise, my toes were still numb, and I knew that I needed some real exertion myself, and I knew what I would have to do to make that happen. So I unzipped my black ski pants and pulled one leg off. Andy was lying on his back watching me struggle with my pants. He looked amused, the little crud. I knew that I would lose body heat by taking my pants off, but couldn't figure out any other way to do what I had in mind with them on. I also knew that I needed to be on top if I wanted to get my circulation flowing properly. After I'd tugged my pants off one leg and then put on one pant-leg of another outfit on my other leg, I had the essential area bare while at the same time keeping my legs covered from the cold. I cannot lie; I was dripping with anticipation.My sex life had been focused on Jeff for the past 18 months. And before that with two other guys, and that had been only sporadically. So this was new and exciting to me no matter how much I wanted to pretend that it was a life-saving exercise. I knelt beside Andy and unbuttoned his pants and opened his fly completely. Then I tugged at his waistband, pulling his pants partway down his thighs. YES! He really looked wonderful. What I could see of his stomach was so tight. He didn't have a lot of hair on his body, and reminded me a little of a muscular female, except that his cock was fully hard and waiting for me. I didn't want to wait any longer. I knew I was wet enough for him, so I straddled his body and took his shiny cock in my hand, and sank down on it. Again, I have a confession to make: he felt wonderful inside me. His thick cock filled me so completely. I started to ride him immediately; you couldn't have stopped me at that moment if his father had shown up knocking on the window. Andy was watching me. I could tell even with my eyes closed. I was thrusting my hips forward, not raising up, just like a lady bronco rider, rubbing myself against him, feeling him inside me. It had been so long since I'd felt the thrill of sex with a strange man. Guiltily, I thought of Jeff, then I thought about how it had been with Jeff the first time. I had seduced him on the balcony of my little apartment. I remembered how good it had felt to have Jeff on top of me that lazy afternoon. To have his strong Nordic cock thrusting deep inside me. "Ooooohhhh GOD! YES!" I was coming on top of Andy in one of the most intense orgasms I think I've ever had. The thought of fucking Jeff, while I was really doing it to Andy just seemed to push me over the edge. I could feel my body shivering on top of Andy's. He was gasping as I rammed him as deep as I could inside me. He felt so good! I could see his stomach muscles working as he thrust back at me. He looked as if he couldn't catch his breath and began to gasp for air. As he raised his upper body to hug me, I knew he was having his own orgasm deep inside me. The thought of a strange man coming in me brought on another more leisurely orgasm as I continued to lovingly rub myself against him, taking him as deep as he would go. He held on to my neck for almost a full minute before falling back to the floor of the Blazer with a sigh that told me he was done. I leaned forward and kissed him, making sure he didn't fall out of me while we embraced. As we kissed, I realized that my toes felt perfectly normal again. In fact, I felt rudely flushed and perfectly healthy. As I looked up, I noticed that the windshield was completely fogged up, and realized that I was warm. Then I calculated how long we would keep our pleasant afterglow. I figured that maybe we would be OK for about a half-hour or so. Looking at my watch, I noticed that it was 1AM. Hmmm, at this rate, we're going to be awfully tired tomorrow. Let's see, it's 1AM, a half-hour of warm blood circulation... say 7AM before dawn, and maybe 8 before anyone gets down here, let's see how many times will we have to...? Epilogue: It was almost 8 o'clock in the morning before a snowplow came down the road with the highway patrol following behind. The patrolman was amazed that we were so fit after the night we'd obviously had to endure. The patrolman fixed our fuse, and let us go on our way. Both Andy and I dragged through the Wednesday morning meetings. His father let us go after the noon break because we looked so tired. I let Andy stay with me that afternoon, but only as a special good-bye for both of us. We'll always be special friends, and I don't think I have to worry about him giving secrets away anymore. I now have Andy on my story list. He'll be getting this as a matter of fact. (I've encouraged him to write the same story from his perspective and hope he does, it would be interesting to read.) Oh, and one more thing. I kicked some butt on the slopes Saturday. Even though my ski outfit looked a little rumpled. (Thank you David L. for your help in correcting my terrible grammar and spelling)

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/10252.txt

Dark One

Hired Help

"'Why?' is never an easy question," he said. "Try," Jennifer said as she slicked her sweat down the front of her rubber dress. Now there was a watery sheen over her breasts. That felt kind of interesting, she thought, as the movement had moved the rubber warts in her outfit against her nipples. Richard took a long look at her shiny, slick red bosom. "Perhaps I should start at the beginning," he said. "My father, Andrew, was very 'into' corsets, rubber, high heels and the like," he said. "So much so, that he married a woman who would cater to his every wish in that regard. He was fortunate to have the means to indulge his fantasies. "I can remember her clearly," he said, "I must have been, maybe six. My parents thought that I was tucked away in bed. I heard something, and cracked the door open. "I saw my father dressed in rubber from head to toe. And my mother wore a black rubber French maid's dress, with long black rubber stockings, long black rubber gloves, and stiletto heels. Her waist was so tiny... later I learned that it was very corsetted. I saw them both disappear into their room. "My curiosity got the better of me. I snuck out and went to their door. They left their door open just a crack, and I was able to watch my parents having passionate sex while attired in their kinky outfits. My mother was tied to the bed while my father ravished her. "My mother passed away two years later," he said. Richard's voice started to choke. "My father was heartbroken. He cried so much at her funeral... I had never seen him cry before." "I'm sorry," Jennifer said. Richard continued as if he did not hear her. "My father was never the same man after that. For almost two years, he went through the motions of life, with almost no joy or pleasure. It was during this time that I discovered my father's collection of pornography, and his stash of sex toys and kinky outfits. By the time that I was ten, I had tried out a dozen butt plugs, walked around in my mother's high heels, and masturbated to the sight of women in rubber and heels. "Then," he said, "My father started to date again, if that was the correct term. He would bring women into the house. They would stay a few days to a month or two. I managed to catch a glimpse of them on occasion. They were dressed up like my mother used to. But... I never saw the same look of enjoyment on their face. Later, I learned that he used his money to attract them, and the girls dumped him when they had sponged off of him for long enough. There were exceptions, but few. "I... had oral sex with my first woman when I was fourteen. This woman was one of the exceptions. Named Victoria, she was a dominatrix. I spied on them twice. The first time, she had my father kneeling down on the floor as she made him lick her boots. The second time, he was tied to the bed, blindfolded and gagged. A chastity belt was on him. That was the time that she found me. "'What are you doing here?'" she had asked me out of earshot of my father. I stammered and stuttered. 'I don't do this for an audience, only for participants," she said. Victoria whipped out a pair of handcuffs and fastened my hands behind my back. As my father moaned in his bedroom, she led me to the sitting room. She sat down, spread her legs wide, and commanded me to lick her pussy." Oh, god! thought Jennifer. No wonder he's so far out in left field when it comes to sex! "Victoria repeated that about a dozen times. Each time, she would come over and tie my father up. Then she would come for me and have me use my mouth to give her pleasure. She was a very good teacher, actually." Jennifer remembered the time that he had performed oral sex on her. It certainly was the best that I'd ever had! she thought. "I'm not sure why Victoria stopped coming over. My father's next girl was not a dominatrix. In fact, when I spied on them, she was always dressed up from head to toe in rubber or shiny vinyl, and tied to my father's bed. "One day, when I was listening through the door, I heard the phone ring. After finishing, my father said 'I have to go for a couple of hours. I think you'll be able to manage for that long,' he said. "I raced back to my room and waited for my father to leave. When I was sure that he was gone, I went back to my father's room and slowly snuck inside. "The woman was there, in a full body suit that covered her from head to toe. Her eyes were hidden by the hood, and she was breathing through a tube in her helmet. High heels were locked onto her feet, and the only part of her flesh that was visible was her pussy. Her narrow waist was obviously due to a corset underneath the rubber. "I'm not quite sure why, but I used Victoria's lesson first. With my tongue and lips, I had her squirming against her bonds. I heard her moaning through her breathing tube. Then, when I was done with that, I climbed up onto the bed and mounted her. "I had sex with her three times. I was fortunate in that there was a window in the room that would let me see my father's car approaching. When I saw it coming, I pulled out and headed for my room. "If my father ever found out about that, he never told me. And three years later, he died as well. There was a pileup on the highway... and my father did not survive." Jennifer closed his briefcase and put it on the floor. She tossed his papers onto the top of the briefcase, and wormed over to him. She put her rubber-encased arms around him, and pulled him close. "That must be painful to remember," she said. He did not pull away from her. Richard nodded, but did not elaborate. "I was left, just fifteen years old, with all of my father's money and possessions. It was very awkward for me. I had always had private tutors when my father was in charge of my education. My father had named my second cousin my legal guardian, and he was actually rather nice to me. He had his own sizable fortunes and was not interested in manipulating mine. He showed up when a legal guardian was needed, but didn't meddle in my life. "I was not exactly the socialite. I spent my time designing bondage and fetish outfits, as well as handling the portfolio that my father left me."I learned how to do self-bondage in some very elaborate ways. When I was twenty-two, I had the idea to acquire partial or full ownership in a company that would cater to my particular tastes. That company was Fantasy Supreme. The company headquarters and production facilities are just across town, actually. However, I was not and am not the sole owner of the company. The five men that were over on Friday are the other five stockholders. We each have about equal holdings in the company. To tell you the truth, it is not the most profitable company that I own. But it seems to be consistent in its balance sheets from year to year. In fact, all parts of your maid's outfits and the rubber dress that you are wearing now came from Fantasy Supreme. There was a long pause in his narration. "What about your wife?" she asked as she tried to adjust the plugs inside of her rubber-encased body. All she accomplished was to stimulate herself a bit more. Richard took a very deep breath before answering. "I met my wife three years later at the company Christmas party of Fantasy Supreme. She was a new hire, and was rather amazed by all that she was seeing." "Susana?" Jennifer asked. Richard nodded. We talked for the longest time that night. We had our first date two days later. I slowly started to show her the things that turned me on. She was hesitant at first, but it didn't take her long to really get into it. But... I guess that we were two people that saw what we wanted to see in the other person. That wasn't clear until we were married, about two years after we had first met. I tried to let her find her innermost fantasies. I succeeded. Unfortunately, they did not mesh well with mine. I wanted all of the trappings of a life of fetish with a great deal of sex to boot. As she became more versed in the possibilities, she found herself adoring the lifestyle of a dominatrix. She constantly wanted to be in charge, while I wanted more balance in our relationship. Also, her main pleasure was derived from keeping control of a man in all ways... which included long periods of enforced sexual abstinence. I... did not like that. "How do you think that I liked it?" she asked. Richard smiled. "It is one thing to have a chastity belt in anticipation of a reward at the end. It is quite another not to know when or even if your other half is going to relent. Two years after that, we finalized our divorce. In the end, it was an amicable parting, I suppose. She had signed a pre-nuptial agreement that left her with a comfortable nest egg. That was a year ago. I have dwelt alone here since then. I have been looking... for something to compare to that first year that Susana and I had together. The joy of exploration, the closeness, the trust... This reminded Jennifer of the letter from the personal service to Richard. "So," she asked, with her red rubber arms still around him, "where do I fit in?" Richard snorted with a twisted smile. "Originally, I just wanted someone to help out around the house and indulge a few of my voyeuristic fantasies. I never meant for it to become more than a business relationship." Jennifer rolled her eyes. "What do you expect? You put my body on display, and expect me not to think of sex with the handsome man who happens to be my employer? Maybe there's some impropriety, but dammit, I don't care! I'm not staying here for the money anymore. I'm here because of you." Richard stared at her. "Be careful what you say," he said. "I have some very definite and stringent requirements in a companion. Most women are rather put off by it, while the remainder seem more interested in my checkbook than in me." "Why don't you give me a chance?" she asked. "I'm here, right now, and willing. No waiting." "I... have been burned already. It is not that easy for me to believe... that there is someone interested in me for my own sake." "You just don't understand," Jennifer said. "I've never had a person that really wanted me. My mother told me day after day how worthless I was. Every boyfriend that I had when in school and when I was out on my own just wanted a live blow-up doll to screw silly. Whenever I asked for just a little more, they were gone. The way that you looked at me that night... with that hunger in your eyes. That hunger was for me, I'm sure. I've... never had anyone look at me like that. And... well, when you finally did get to business, you didn't leave me hanging. Every other boyfriend I had would get me that close... and be done with it. Half of them snored." Richard thought about this for a long time. "I... am not sure. I want you to really know what you're getting into. Remember," he said, looking her in the eye, "you can leave at any time. Just say the word, and I will release you from your contract. You will of course be paid the higher wages." Jennifer had not thought of the contract in quite a long time. By her estimation, she was probably due for three or four thousand dollars. "I'll remember that, but I don't think that I will be taking you up on it." "I have to be sure... don't expect our relationship to change. I *have* to be sure." She looked at him. "Can you at least drop the pretense of me being here to do the chores? You could hire a couple of people to do all of that much more efficiently than I could do it. Then you would have more time with me. Why don't you just admit that you like to see me dressed up for your pleasure, and that you really wouldn't mind throwing me to the floor and taking me right now? Come on! Why don't you do what you *really* want to do with me?" "There are some practical difficulties with that," he said. "But..." A smile came across his face. "There is something that comes to mind..." Chapter 12 There was a buzzing in her crotch and anus. Jennifer moaned and tossed her head. Sweat was again rolling down her body, slicking the front of her red rubber hobble dress. She was seated in a leather chair. The back was low enough that her arms could both be behind her. This was necessary because they were now encased in an arm binder made of matching red latex. Her stiletto-heeled feet were tied to the legs of the chair, and the end of the armbinder was fastened to the back legs of the chair. Richard had unlocked her outer dress long enough to run a wire from her chastity belt down and out the bottom of her skirt. Additionally, one of her hands in the armbinder was now clutching a button that she could press. The wire for this control was strung out the top of the armbinder. Both wires ended in a metal box with an LED readout that she could clearly see. '00:49:57' was on the readout. Every second, the last number decreased by one. This box fed power to her chastity belt through the wire that ran up her dress. And the button in her armbinder controlled the box... in a way. Richard smiled at her as she writhed and moaned. They were in his den, and he was pretending to do serious work. But he spent most of his time watching the wriggling Jennifer in her torture device. He had told her the rules. "You can turn off the vibrations at almost any time by pushing the button that you have," he had said. "And when the time runs out, your ordeal will be over. The button will stop the vibrations for ten minutes," he said. "But if you use it, *twenty* minutes will be added to the timer. And you will not be able to use the button to stop it for five minutes after the vibrations resume." Jennifer gritted her teeth and labored against the rubber corset that constricted her waist. Dammit, on this one the dildo *and* the butt plug both vibrate! And these things against my nipples are just icing on the cake! She closed her eyes and tried to ignore the clock. She was getting closer, closer... A wave of pleasure shot out from her overstimulated genitals. She kicked out violently, but succeeded only in moving the chair a fraction of a millimeter. "God..." she said aloud. The vibrations continued, and she found herself overwhelmed. "Aaaa!" she said as she pushed the button. The vibrations stopped immediately. She opened her eyes, and saw the readout on the box. '00:43:21' it said. She let out a gasp when she saw it change to '01:03:21'. "Oh, god," she said aloud. "I'm losing ground." She looked over at Richard, and he was grinning widely. "This device teaches endurance," he said. "Don't you know what I'm going through?" she said. Sweat simply ran down his face. Richard brought over a glass full of beverage with a straw in it. Jennifer drank greedily as he offered it to her. "Actually, there is a similar device for men that I've invented," he said. "I've tried it out on myself. Most interesting. Except that, with the male version, there is a sensor at the tip of the penis. Whenever there is an ejaculation, it has the same effect as you pushing the button." "Has anyone ever told you that you are a pervert?" she said, between sips through the straw. "Repeatedly," he replied. "But compliments will not get you out of this. Only a high tolerance for pleasure will get you anywhere." She drained the glass dry. "I'm still thirsty," she said. "I'll get you some more," he said. He returned several minutes later with a refill of lemonade. Richard also carried a full pitcher of the stuff in with him. "What if I can't run it down to zero?" she asked, just before she sucked greedily on this beverage. "Then you will just have to do it again tomorrow," he said, "until you get it right." With that statement, the current flowed into her belt again, and the torture of pleasure resumed. She knew that she had used the button at least eight times.Richard kept the lemonade coming as she asked. "00:01:07," she saw. An orgasm was ravaging through her body as her eyes were fixed on the readout. "Please," she said pathetically. "00:00:44." She kicked violently against her restraints, but only succeeded in pulling on her ankles. She tried to spread her legs wide to reduce the pressure on the devices within her, but the rubber hobble skirt kept her legs tightly together. "00:00:18." Another one shook her to her very core. She twisted violently in her chair, and Richard could see her bosom heaving against the rubber of the dress and the rubber corset underneath. "00:00:00." Finally! She felt the vibrations within her cease. There was a wild, crazy smile on her face as she looked over to the seated form of Richard. "Very good!" he said. A wave of a very different kind of pleasure went through her. Maybe I impressed him, she thought eagerly. He walked up and started to undo the restraints that kept her attached to the chair. A few minutes later, the armbinder was gone, and the dress was unlocked. She stood up and allowed him to unzip her. She was surprised to see a puddle of sweat on the floor below her dress. Jennifer was surprised that he unlocked the chastity belt and started to untie the rubber corset. The inside of the dress was drenched. And then there was the other layer underneath. "Go upstairs and get cleaned up," he said, after he had removed the corset. Perspiration was dripping from the inside of the corset to the floor. "I'm sure that you would appreciate a bath right now." He was so right! Jennifer let the jets of hot water massage her body. She closed her eyes and felt relief spreading through her body. Her eyes traveled around the bathroom. She idly rummaged through a pile of towels that was within reach. She felt something underneath the pile. When her hand emerged, she was clutching a fetish and bondage magazine. There was a six-inch wooden ruler being used as a bookmark. "Wonder how this got there," she said. It was an old wooden one that had probably been there a long time. Suddenly curious, she got out of the bathtub and went back to her bedroom. She found her black stiletto shoes and measured their heels. "Five and a half," she said aloud. She then measured the red heels that had so recently imprisoned her feet. "Five and seven-eighths." She put the ruler on her dresser and returned to the bathtub. She dried her hands and idly paged through the magazine. Jennifer was drying herself off when she heard her bedroom door opening. "Yes?" she said. Seconds later, Richard appeared in the doorway of the bathroom. She saw that he was wearing a long, full-length bathrobe that went all the way to the floor. "I took the liberty of ordering out for dinner. If you would care to join me?" he said. "Certainly," she replied. "It is a formal dinner," he said. "You will need to dress appropriately." Jennifer rolled her eyes for the briefest of moments. "I take it you've already picked something out?" she said, putting the towel down. She was now fully naked, less than six feet away from him. But Richard was calm, and there was no burning desire in his eyes. "Out here," he said as he walked over to her bed. She followed, and saw him holding up what looked to be a one-piece bodysuit made of shiny black rubber in one hand. Even the stiletto heels were built right into the outfit. In his other, he held up a black rubber corset. It took him fifteen minutes to lace the corset onto her. When he was done, that familiar constriction around the waist was once again fighting against her every breath. "Sit on the bed, would you?" Richard unzipped the back zipper and started to put her left leg into it. There was some sort of white powdery stuff on the inside, and her leg slipped in rather easily. Jennifer saw that the crotch on this outfit was open. She was half expecting some diabolical sex toy to be inside of it. No chastity belt... she could feel herself becoming hot, as she guessed what he might do to her... later. Jennifer's left leg was now all the way in. Richard repeated the process for the right leg. "You'll need to stand up now," said Richard. She did, and nearly fell over. Richard grabbed ahold of her by her corsetted waist and kept her from falling over. These heels are even higher yet, she thought. They *have* to be over six inches tall. Now he guided her right arm into the sleeve of the outfit. To her surprise, she found that the sleeve was bonded to the outside of the outfit, running straight down her right side. The sleeve ended in a thumbless mitten. Next, he put her left arm into the matching sleeve. The last step was to zip the outfit up in the back all the way to her neck. Jennifer turned around and looked at herself in the mirror. She was encased in skintight, shiny black, with stiletto heels over six inches high attached to each foot. The opening at her crotch revealed a vagina that was moist and ready. There was the narrow waist and very perky breasts. Her hard nipples were showing through the rubber fabric. And her arms looked to be glued to her sides. She tried to move them, but only saw the rubber twist some in response to her efforts. Robert put one arm around her waist and guided her out of her room. I was just getting used to the other heels, Jennifer thought to herself. Then he changes the rules on me! Soon they were in the dining room. A full dinner was laid out on the table, with a single candle lit in the center of the table. "Oh, how romantic," she said. "Thank you." Richard guided her to a chair. Jennifer gingerly sat down. There was enough give in the rubber of her sleeves to allow her to sit comfortably. Richard now took off his bathrobe. She saw that he was wearing the tight black rubber pants with the built-in sheath for his penis. Jennifer remembered what it was like the last time that she saw him wearing them... and she felt even wetter down at her crotch. As he sat down, she asked a question. "It is going to be tough to eat while wearing this," she said. "I don't understand," he said, with a hint of playfulness in his voice. He picked up her fork and put a bit of the salad on it. Carefully, he guided it over to her mouth. "I think that your mouth will work just fine, actually." Jennifer took it into her mouth and ate it. "That's good," she said after finishing her mouthful. A long dinner ensued, with Richard feeding her each and every bite of food and every sip of wine. He ate off of his own plate as well. Jennifer was sweating inside of her outfit, but did not mention it. The excitement of the situation was overriding it. "What's for dessert?" she asked. "Hmmm..." Richard said. "I must have neglected to order that. We'll have to improvise, won't we?" he said. He pushed his chair back, but instead of standing up, he knelt down on the floor. Within seconds, he had crawled under the table and had found her dripping vagina with his mouth. "Oh, god!" she exclaimed. She slid down in her chair and spread her legs wide to give him better access to her privates. He was methodical in his explorations of her. First, gentle nibbling with his lips. Then his tongue started to probe, first up near the top and only very slowly moving down toward her most sensitive parts. "Please!" she said, rocking her hips back and forth. He was bringing her close... so close... She panted against her corset as he backed off his stimulation ever so slightly. "Ooooohhhhh!" she moaned aloud. Suddenly, his tongue attacked her clitoris with a vengeance. Within seconds, an orgasm wracked through her body. She clenched her legs together around his head, trying to get him to stop as she groaned in pleasure. Richard apparently took that in good grace, and brought his probing tongue back home. He backed away, and when she next saw him, he was standing up by the table taking a sip of wine. "I thought that our little training session this afternoon was supposed to increase your tolerance for pleasure," he said. "Apparently, it has its limits." "That was *wonderful*" she said between pants. Jennifer looked at him, and saw that his black rubber-coated, half-hard penis was rapidly becoming fully erect. It stood at attention and pointed directly at her. "Oh, my," she said, staring directly at it. When her gaze returned to his face, she saw that look of lust, that look of *intensity* returning to it. "Am I in trouble?" she said in a girlish tone of voice. Richard did not reply, but bent down and picked her up. She kicked her stiletto-heeled feet in the air feebly as he carried her to his bedroom. Richard put her on the bed, then reached down below the bed. He brought out a three-foot-long bar with a cuff on each end. With a quick efficiency, he fastened her legs to the spreader bar. When he was done, her legs were held apart at an angle that was a touch greater than 90 degrees. "Oh, god!" she said as she felt her groin muscle start to protest. Moments later, he was on top of her, thrusting his hard and erect manhood into her wet and ready pussy. Richard was relentless. If he ever ejaculated, she did not notice it. After her first orgasm, he gave her a few seconds of pause. Then, he was back on her, thrusting away. "Oh, godohgodohgod!" she screamed against the tightness of the corset as the second orgasm swept through her. Richard stopped for an even briefer period of time before resuming again. It was in the middle of her fifth orgasm that the tightness of the corset finally overwhelmed her, and she passed out.HIRED HELP by Dark One Chapters 11-12 -30-

MF bd ds M-dom span anal enem toys

11

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11980.txt

Lucinda Gavin

Ornery

"Dubois here," Meg heard over the pay phone. "It's me, Meg. I'm at the airport. You still working?" "Yeah, shit, I didn't realize it was so late. We're installing the upgrade on the network this weekend so that we don't disrupt the faculty too much." "If you're busy, I can take a cab." "No, no, no, I'll be there. O.T. can finish up. We were almost done anyway. Let me finish a few things and I'll be over there," Meg could hear the smile in Tommy's voice, "I've missed you." "I've missed you, too. See you then." Meg sat outside the small terminal and pulled a book from her bag. It would be difficult to guess when Tommy would arrive. She had read at least one chapter when Tommy pulled up in his Saturn. Meg considered the curiosity that Tommy was the first man she had dated for any length that could afford a new car. It was also the first new car Tommy could afford to buy. They were becoming adults, imagine that. Meg rolled her bag to the curb while her big man unfolded himself out of the driver's seat. His gut was getting more pronounced, and she herself was feeling more than a little overfed after a week with family. They both needed exercise, and Meg knew what Tommy's solution would be. "What are you grinning about?" "Oh, nothing. Just imagining you trying to climb out of that old Civic you told me about." "It was a good car! It served me well." "Oh really? That must have been the first ten years." Tommy shut the trunk after loading the suitcase. Meg placed a new soft-sided briefcase in the back seat and stepped into the passenger side. "Is that what I think it is?" he asked. "Yep, it's a laptop. Dad gave it to me. I had made a random comment about wanting one..." "Geez... He just gave you a laptop?" "Well, it's a 'belated graduation/help Meg get a real job' gift," Meg chuckled quietly. "I had really wanted a trip to Europe, but I had to start the postdoc right away... Anyway, that's just how Dad shows he cares, to not accept his gifts would be a slap in the face..." "So how was dear old Dad, how does he feel about us living together? Did he give you a hard time?" "He doesn't know, I mean about the relationship part. I've had male roommates before, so unless you told him... He didn't comment," Meg looked at Tommy as he drove. He opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it. Meg's postdoc position would last another nine months, and then she would have to find a faculty appointment somewhere. Whether Tommy would come with her was still uncertain, it was clear he was satisfied with the status quo. She hadn't told her father because she didn't have anything to tell. "Besides, I like to pick my battles. He was concerned about the job situation." Tommy was silent for a moment, "So you haven't said anything about the vacation. Did you have fun?" "Oh, I guess it was all right, if you like emotional minefields..." "Surely you're exaggerating," Tommy's eyebrows furrowed as Meg watched him drive. It was rush hour in the college town, complicated by the presence of moving vans. The kids were back. Those in academia will tell you that college towns would be perfect, if it weren't for the students. "Well, not that much. We just had to get used to each other again. If it had just been me and my dad, or me and my brother and his family... You put that many strong-willed people in one room and... and don't call me Shirley." "Ha! I was wondering if you'd catch that. So what did you do?" "Well, things ran a lot smoother when I kept my mouth shut and stayed in the kitchen." Tommy laughed, "As it should be, woman!" Meg didn't answer right away. "Yeah, I suppose." "What's the matter? You sound depressed or something." "I'm just tired, it's ragweed season back home, and I got a headache on the flight. I just need to rest." They were sitting at a long light and Meg became lost in her thoughts. Visiting her family was a strain, walking on eggshells like that. The idea of a minefield wasn't far off. Like the lush, green countries of Southeast Asia, they appeared a peaceful family with no trace of the open hostilities of the past, but a careless word during a stressful moment could detonate the buried animosities. In the midst of this, Meg had felt the ground give way beneath her as she dropped into a forgotten cave. She had seen at her feet that once familiar subterranean pool of rage. Meg had gazed into its still depths, she knew the taste of it, pure, dark, and bitter. She felt shame, for mixing her metaphors, and for knowing the pool still existed, that forgiveness and understanding had not caused the pool to fade away, or at least diluted its potency. She wanted desperately to be free of it; Meg did not want such a terrible resource from which to draw the power to hurt others. She knew she would ultimately hurt herself and end up alone. Gratefully, the now latent anger felt as distant as a dream, Meg could not get close enough to see her reflection on the jet surface. Tommy was watching her, "I missed you." He smiled down at her and squeezed her knee gently. "I missed you, too." Meg tried to look relaxed as she smiled up at him. "I'm going to have to call O.T. when we get home." "I could have gotten a cab if you needed to work." "No way! I plan on making you squeal tonight," he grinned. "What's your pleasure?" "It's up to you. I've gotten out of the habit of making the decisions this week. You can make the call." "Be careful what you wish for... With that kind of attitude, I might request something very special. Hehehehe..." "Such as?" "Such as... a little sub/dom?" "Gee, I should have known." "I should have known, SIR." "Well, considering I've been practicing all week, now is as good a time as any." Meg blew her nose vigorously. "Damn allergies." "Do you want to wait until you're feeling better?" "Nah, you're lucky to get me while my resistance is down. Just let me take something for the headache and get cleaned up. That should give you enough time to think stuff up." "My dear, I've been thinking stuff up since the seventh grade!" They pulled up into the driveway, and Tommy carried in Meg's bags as they walked into the house. Meg walked up the stairs and grabbed her bathrobe before heading to the shower. She could hear Tommy talking with O.T., his assistant, while she pulled out the pain reliever from the medicine cabinet. Meg sat on the edge of the bathtub, unable to decide whether she wanted a shower or a bath. She ached from sitting in the cramped plane, but there was also the issue of time. Besides, she'd probably fall asleep in a bath. This night was going to be for Tommy, so she set the water to cool, and took off her robe. As Meg was stepping into the tub, she heard a quick rap on the door and turned to see Tommy's head poke in. "Meg, guess who called, while I was talking to O.T.? Brian Lefevre... I invited him over... Remember how you once said you could imagine a threesome with him? This is going to be great!" Meg looked stunned for a moment, trying to decide how to react. She wanted to know if Tommy had already told Brian about their speculations, how long he had known, how he had reacted. Meg paused. "As you wish, Master." Meg lowered her eyes and held still, making no attempt to cover herself as Tommy stared at her. Meg couldn't see the slow, wide grin appear on Tommy's face, but she could hear it in his voice. "Oh, this is going to be good." The man continued to look at the naked woman in front of him. Meg did not move. "Sir?" "Huh? Oh yeah. Yes, Margaret?" "May I be allowed to finish my shower, Sir?" "Oh, of course. Please continue, Margaret." "And, Sir?" "Yes, Margaret?" "Does Master have any special requests as to what his humble slave shall wear?" Tommy paused. "I know, that thing we bought last month. And those shoes you have... uh... you know the ones... Damn, I wish I had a leash!" Meg's eyes flickered for a moment before she said, "If it pleases you, Master, I do have a velvet choker that may give the impression of a collar." "Oh, it pleases me very much... but I'll let you get ready." Meg stepped into the shower in a lighter mood. She was a performer at heart, especially when costumes were involved. Whether or not the actress was ready for this little improvisation, they all would have to wait and see. Meg was hardly submissive ordinarily, but she was a trouper and knew when to back off for the sake of the ensemble. But how far would Tommy take this? Meg felt a tug in her gut and told herself to treat it like a game, that if it didn't work out, so what?One night, give him what he wants. Refreshed, Meg stepped out of the shower and toweled off quickly before scurrying into the bedroom. She brushed out her hair and saw that the summer sun had brought out the red highlights in her otherwise mousy locks. Meg had let it grow, and the months-old, but expensive perm gave her a relaxed cascade of warm, soft, wavy hair. Sometimes you get lucky. Meg dug into her lingerie drawer and pulled out the 'thing.' At first, it looked like a baby-doll nightie, with sheer black fabric swinging below the bra portion. But the cups were merely crescent moons, stiff with padding and underwire. It would support Meg's ample breasts while exposing all of the nipple and most of the pale, round flesh. Meg liked the jet beading that dangled from the not-even-demi cups, giving a Victorian look. Meg had hoped that they could have found one whose skirt was more opaque, to obscure her 30+ year old hips and belly, but hey, you do the best with what you've got. Meg slipped on the matching thong and searched for the velvet choker. She then pulled out a clutch purse with a removable chain strap. Slipping the choker through a wide ring at the end of the chain, Meg was now leashed. Since the velvet strip was held closed with velcro, it was a collar in appearance only. Any real resistance on her part would destroy the illusion. Small comfort once Brian showed up, since Tommy and he were both over a foot taller than Meg. The woman's hand trembled a little as she applied her makeup. After a few dabs of perfume, Meg stepped into the high black suede pumps. She turned to examine the saucy slave in the mirror, so different from the bespectacled scientist Meg knew herself to be. It was funny how the color black worked for her, it set off her ivory skin. She never looked sickly, even in her artsy malcontent days. Meg decided she had stalled enough. She opened the door to the upstairs hallway. "Are you almost done up there?" Meg took a deep breath. "I am ready for you, Sir." "Lord, I do like the way you say that. Come on, let me have a look." As Meg walked to the head of the stairs, the light from the living room below caught her. Tommy was looking up at her as he blinked in disbelief. Meg could just see the camera in Tommy's head panning up from the stilettos to the thong, pausing to zoom in her now stiff, exposed nipples and then to the collar. Tommy's smile told it all, he approved. "My, but you are a saucy wench, Margaret." Meg quickly dropped her eyes at the sound of her full name. "Thank you, Master." Meg stepped down the stairs slowly, unsure of her footing as the trembling returned. At the foot of the stairs, Tommy waited silently. Meg handed him the free end of the chain. "My leash, Master." "Ah yes, Margaret. Come over here, Margaret. Let me look at you." "Yes, Master." Tommy led Meg to the sofa facing the television. Anticipating, Meg picked up a pillow. "Margaret, did I tell you to pick up a pillow?" Meg's eyes flickered, but she kept them lowered. "No, Master." "Why do you want the pillow, Margaret?" "To kneel on, Master." "Did I tell you would be kneeling?" "No, Master." "And do you trust your master so little to assume that I would not think of your comfort?" "I trust you, Master." "Then give me the pillow, Margaret." Tommy took the pillow and tossed it on the floor, "Bend over, Margaret." Meg felt her face flush with anger as she bent over. "You understand I'm doing this for your own good, you need to understand the rules," Tommy reached out to caress Meg's exposed ass. Meg felt a jolt of pleasure from the touch of skin on skin. She felt his hand leave and then a quick rush of air before the sting of a slap. Meg hadn't been aware she was holding her breath until she cried out. "It's really for your own good," Tommy said. "Th-thank you, Master," Meg's body shook as she felt her control of the situation slip away. She tried to remind herself that she could stop this at any time. Meg took a few deep breaths to calm down. Tommy sat down on the sofa. "Margaret, now you may take the pillow and kneel before me. I'd like to look at you for a while." "Yes, Master," Meg replied. She stooped over to pick up the pillow, and her breasts dangled beneath her. Meg placed the pillow on the carpet in front of Tommy and began to kneel down. She stopped. "Master?" "Yes, Margaret?" "May I take off my shoes, Sir? The heels will dig into my thighs." "Yes, Margaret, go ahead. See, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Meg felt the heat rush to her face, but said nothing but a soft "No, sir." That boy better be enjoying this and be damn grateful, she thought. Meg stepped out of her shoes and kneeled on the pillow, she tried to will the muscles in her neck and shoulders to relax. Meg could feel the weight of the chain pull on the velvet choker. She kept her eyes focused on Tommy's shoes and her hands in her lap. Tommy moved his feet apart and Meg heard him unzip his pants. Meg tried in vain to look through her lashes at Tommy's lap. "Do you want to watch me stroke my cock, Margaret?" "I only want to do what pleases my master." "You look so sexy like that, Meg. You've got me so hot right now." "It pleases me to know I arouse you, Master." It was true, Meg could hear Tommy's voice thicken with excitement and his breathing become shallow and raspy. Therein lied her power, and Meg felt herself relax. She didn't have to see him stroke himself, Meg could picture it in her head. She felt her pussy tighten in response. Meg waited for the next command. The doorbell rang. "Stay, Meg!" Tommy stuck his hand out as if Meg were a pet. "It's Brian, oh fuck, I wish he had waited about five minutes and then he would have seen a beautiful sight... Not that you don't look fabulous right now, Margaret." Tommy tucked his erection into his pants and zipped up, hopping to the door. Meg brought her hand up to adjust the bra and thought better of it, men had this thing about disheveled women, and Tommy would take another whack at her for moving. Meg had no intention of being 'disciplined' in front of Brian. Oh god, Brian, Meg thought. She just decided not to think about it, what ever will be, will be. Meg would have killed to see the expression on Brian's face as he walked into the room. Actually, she could only see that his long legs stop just short of the hallway. "Uh... Is this some kind of a joke?" Meg heard him say. Meg risked it, she had to see. She slowly raised her head, keeping her lids low... really going for effect. Her heart stopped a moment as she gazed fully into the handsome man's face. Oh god, Brian was beautiful. "Good Evening, Master Brian." Meg felt herself ooze between her legs as Brian seemed to drink her in. Brian was currently single because yet another beautiful, charming, intelligent woman got tired of waiting for him to commit. Brian was young, it was understandable. Once Tommy introduced Meg to his friends, they always talked and flirted. Brian made girls feel like they were the only woman in the world, let alone the room. Brian cracked a grin, and Meg was released from his spell. Tommy didn't comment on her impertinence as Meg lowered her gaze. "All right, where's the video camera, you guys can't be serious!" "Video camera! I knew I forgetting something! Shit, too late now really..." Brian slowly walked around the couch to take a closer look at Meg. "Can I touch her?" Meg laughed in spite of herself, this getting a little silly now. However, she could feel her legs begin to cramp. She tried to work them out somehow without moving. "I think she's getting stiff, maybe we should let her walk around or something," Brian said. Meg flinched a little again, chafing at being spoken of in the third person or more correctly, third pet. She kept quiet. "Okay, Margaret, you can stand up. Turn around so Brian can get a good look at you." "Yes, Master." Brian looked from head to toe as Meg displayed herself to him, still keeping her eyes lowered. The young man's erection was evident. "I'm serious, can I touch her?" "Sure, but right now I need her lips around my cock. Have I told you that Meg gives incredible blow jobs?" "No shit?" "Margaret, bring your pillow close to the sofa. Are you ready to please your master?" "Yes, Sir." Meg really did like the feel of a cock in her mouth. She was good at it and was proud of that. Meg bent over to give Brian a clear view of her ass as she moved the pillow forward. She smiled when she heard a guttural "Oh!" behind her. Meg knelt between Tommy's now bare legs. He had scooted himself to the edge of the sofa, giving her easy access to him. Meg reached one arm around his thigh and hip for support as she bent over. Her behind stuck out like an invitation. Meg began. She lightly grasped the shaft to hold Tommy's cock steady as she ran the tip of her tongue lightly over the cockhead, licking up the precum. Meg ran her tongue in circles at the crown where the head met the shaft. Tommy's cock throbbed in her hand and Meg took the cockhead into her mouth and sucked it lightly as she rubbed her tongue against it inside her mouth. Meg took another chance and smiled up at Tommy, she was in familiar territory. "Oh god, baby, take it all now. I can't hold out much longer!" As Meg tilted her head, she could see Brian standing over her, watching her suck Tommy. Meg heard the insistent soft slap-slap as he stroked himself. Meg tilted her head and relaxed her throat as she sucked Tommy's cock deep into her mouth. She kept her tongue rubbing against the shaft as Tommy began thrusting, Meg felt the head pop back into her throat. Now she had to stay focused, to remember to breathe carefully... Meg just heard Brian's slap-slap... "I want to fuck her, Tommy. I'm going to take that wet pussy of hers hard," Brian was breathing heavy. "Not yet, Bri..."Oh god, baby... shit... She might... might tense up... oh fuck!" Meg felt the bitter taste swirl a little up to the back of her mouth, but for the most part, Tommy came deep in her throat. He shuddered beneath her. Meg continued sucking on Tommy's familiar cock until his hand came to rest on her head. She pulled herself up, and Meg smiled up at Tommy. "Does that please my Master?" "Oh yeah... let me catch my breath... Bri, what's your pleasure?" "Brace yourself, woman. I'm coming in." Brian grabbed Meg's hips roughly, and she felt his cock press between her lips. She was pretty slick, and Meg reached between her legs to guide him in. Brian was not quite as thick as Tommy, and Meg gripped his cock with the walls of her pussy to compensate. "Oh god, you're loving this, aren't you, Meg? This is what you *really* want, isn't it?" Brian fucked her fast and hard as Meg braced herself against the sofa. She was still positioned between Tommy's legs, and she looked up at him. He smiled at her and brushed the hair from her face. Meg was so focused on squeezing Brian's cock that her orgasm startled her. Her hands slipped, and her legs trembled. Brian pulled her up, and Meg bounced like a ragdoll until the young man came into her shuddering cunt. Meg came to rest kneeling with one arm on Tommy's thigh, and Brian slumped over her. "Shit, Tommy, she's like a fucking milking machine or something!" "That's my Meg!" Meg felt spent. On other nights, she could outlast Tommy, although she wouldn't speculate about the well-conditioned Brian. Meg let her head and arms drop to the floor. She stayed there, feeling the sweat cool and her throbbing heartbeat slow. "Meg, get up," Brian commanded. She stayed put. "Bri, leave her alone, she's tired." "She hasn't wrapped those hot lips around my cock yet. Meg's loving this, can't you see that?" "Okay, okay, Bri... if you want it that badly," Meg started pulling herself up onto her shaky legs, wetness dripping down. Tommy stood up, "Meg, sit down! Meg is done when I say she's done, Bri!" Meg's voice sounded deep and angry, "Meg is done when *I* say she's done!" The men were stunned into silence. Meg glared at them and then exhaustion took over, she sunk down into the sofa with a grunt. "Unhhh... and I'm done." Brian had the look of angry embarrassment, "Yeah, well, sorry... I guess I'd better go... and .. um..." His expression softened, "You were great Meg, really." "Thanks, Bri, maybe I can suck your cock another time, eh?" Brian laughed a little, "Yeah, maybe. Good night you guys." Meg had already begun drifting off to sleep when Tommy lifted her off the sofa. She could hear him grunt as he carried her up the stairs. "You don't have to do this... I can walk." "It's okay, I'm sorry about Brian." "I'm sorry that I didn't let you 'defend' me, I guess I don't do submissive well." Tommy gave a soft chuckle, "Heh, you were fighting it every minute... except when you ate my cock like an ice cream cone." "Does it bother you? That I'm not submissive and I get angry like that?" Tommy had laid Meg in bed, and as she unhooked her garment, he slid into bed beside her. "No! I'm amazed you went as far as you did tonight. Thanks a lot, Meg, for trusting me. Now go to sleep." "Yes, Master."

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/16852.txt

Remaps

Welts, Book I, Part IV

"Because of those video tapes, your only choice is to obey me. Or, at least, if you dare to disobey, you'll not dare to resist the necessary and inevitable punishment that I'll inflict upon your delightful bottom. Whether you're obedient or rebellious, you will, either way, leave here tonight with a thoroughly spanked and paddled bottom. "You'll leave here with the taste of my pussy on your lips and tongue; with the scent of my pussy permeated through your olfactory senses. You'll leave here with the memory of your tongue paying homage to my ass-crack and my anus. You'll leave here thoroughly and totally humbled, knowing that, at any time, I may command you to kneel and you will hasten to obey. The sound of Bill returning from his shower interrupted Peggy, and we both turned to watch him descend the steps. As he approached, the only evidence of his earlier discipline was a few welts across the fronts of his thighs. I knew, though, that the picture would be very different on his ass and the backs of his legs. My eyes traveled to his penis, which was semi-hard. I looked forward to feeling its warmth in my mouth, in my pussy, wherever Peggy would allow. "Come join us, Bill. As you can see, Gloria was naughty and is being punished. This is the first time that she's ever had an acquaintance with the bite of the nipple clips, and we'll soon see how she reacts when I remove them." Peggy was still wearing the midi-blouse that she'd donned before we entered the basement, and she now pulled it over her head and tossed it aside. She walked over to my side and started issuing a string of orders. "Bill, kneel down behind Gloria and show her again how adept you have become at anal worship. Gloria, bend over a bit to give Bill access to your ass. Bend over only enough to reach my right breast. "Very good. Now, I want to feel you suckling that tit as if you were a newborn babe. Gloria, if you stop sucking or if you move your hands, so help me, I'll string you up where Bill was earlier and use the cane on you. "Please, don't try to find out if I'm sincere. Your ass is too pretty to cut up with that cane. But, if your behavior merits it, believe me, the cane is what you'll get." The breast in my mouth and the tongue working between my buttocks were two distractions from the pain that still persisted in my two tortured nipples. I was terrified of the cane after having seen it at work on Bill and resolved to obey. "Here we go, Gloria. First, the clip on your left nipple." As Peggy released the nipple from its confinement, I wanted to scream. I wanted to run for the nearest door. I wanted to bring my hands down from my neck and comfort it. I did none of those things. What I did was continue to suck on the breast in my mouth, continue to squeeze my fingers together behind my neck, and begin to cry. I could feel the tears running down my face as the pain radiated out from the nipple to the surrounding breast flesh. I never could have imagined that it would be so intense. "See, Gloria. The cane is truly magic. You've never even felt its sting - only observed Bill getting it - and you still respect it. I wanted you to understand this. Because, Gloria, if you can begin to comprehend the power of the cane over your hurting body at this moment, you may begin to fathom how you can put Dave under your power and never again worry about who calls the shots. Brace yourself, baby, here goes the other clip." Again, the fire. This time in my right nipple, my right breast. I'd thought that the second clip would be easier to deal with since it would be no surprise after just going through the same pain in the other nipple. I'd been wrong. The same panic generated by the first clip ensued after the removal of the second clip. Again, the threat of the cane won. I remained in position and merely cried harder. "Poor baby. Tears running down your face. Someday, you'll understand how much I am now looking forward to spanking you later. That's right, Bill. I decided to give Gloria a spanking tonight. Not only that, she knows that she'll be getting paddled after her spanking. She also understands that this is part of the price that she must pay for the privilege of serving me. "Gloria, stand up straight now. You have my permission to rub your breasts. Do so now." I'd fallen into the pattern of instant obedience to her orders and immediately complied with this last instruction. As I rubbed my punished nipples, I noticed that the pain in them had almost totally disappeared and marveled at the rapidity of their recovery. "Bill, stop your licking and assume the position at my ass. Gloria, on your knees now. I want to feel both of your tongues serving me at the same time. "Bill, you know what to do. Do it. Gloria, I want you to imagine that the enthusiasm that you demonstrate in giving me pleasure will have a direct bearing on how severely I'll spank you. You can safely imagine this, because it is exactly what I plan to do. You have my permission to use your lips and tongue. You have my permission to lick and suck me thoroughly. Go for it." My initial thought as I bent my kneeling body to comply with Peggy's orders was to tease her a bit and not go for the inner lips immediately. I figured that I would simply lick around the vicinity and try to arouse her with my teasing. When I started licking, however, I caught her scent and found myself unable to resist the temptation to "dive right in". I knew how to excite her because as a woman, I knew what felt good on my own body. I could understand how a lesbian had an advantage over a man when it came to orally satisfying another woman. From the moment that I parted the labia and began to tongue-fuck the pussy before me, Peggy began to orgasm. I was somewhat surprised that she reacted so quickly, but realized that the activities of the evening thus far had made me horny enough so that I would probably respond similarly if given the same treatment. I understood, also, what she had told me to suck. Her juices were copious, and it was all that I could do to suck and swallow fast enough to keep up with her flow. I used my tongue like a scoop and imagined that it was scooping out honey, so intoxicated was I by the taste of my best friend. Peggy reached forward and grasped my head, pressing my face firmly against her pelvis as she began her climax. "Oh, you sweet bitch. Yes. Suck me. I should never have taken so long to get you on your knees. I promise you that I'll make up for lost time in the future. Get used to the taste, Gloria, for you'll be spending a lot of time serving me in this manner from now on." Peggy fell silent as her orgasm spread like ripples in a pond. Her thighs quivered, and her pussy seemed to get hotter, if that was possible. Little moans of delight could be heard from her as I licked and sucked. Finding her clitoris with my tongue, I grasped it between my teeth and applied slight pressure as I began sucking it in earnest. Her pleasure seemed to intensify, and I could hear her snapping at Bill. "Get your tongue up my ass, Bill. You can do better than that and you know it." Finally, Peggy released my head. "Stop, both of you. I want to see now how well Gloria can lick my ass." At this, Peggy simply did a 180-degree turn, and I was faced with her rounded buttocks within inches of my servile mouth. "Come and get it, kids. You know what to do. You, Gloria, can figure it out. I warn you, though, that even if you did a commendable job on my pussy, the real test of your devotion is before you now. I know how far Bill can get his tongue up my ass, and I expect you to do as well." Peggy was again silent as I burrowed my face between her silken ass cheeks and tentatively touched her anus with the tip of my tongue. Because Bill had just been there, it was already wet with his saliva, and I ran my tongue over the entrance and up the groove between the globes of Peggy's ass. I could hear Peggy starting to whimper and moan again as she reacted to the combined actions of her husband and her best friend. Hurrying now, afraid that I would incur her wrath if I performed ineptly, I inserted my tongue into her anus and felt totally depraved. Here I was with my tongue up the ass of my best friend, my best female friend, and I knew that I had 'found a home'. Although this entire experience had been completely alien, I felt that it was only appropriate that I be kneeling behind Peggy's ass, my tongue still tangy with the taste of her pussy, now serving her in the most submissive manner. I realized now why she had called this the 'submissive kiss'. I couldn't imagine a more humbling position to be in.I knew that Peggy and I would never relate to each other in the same manner again. I was completely happy that this was to be the case. I knew that she was peaking again as I felt my tongue being squeezed by the constricting sphincter muscles in her ass as she again reached her zenith of pleasure. "Stop now. Both of you. That will have to do for now. Gloria, get up and walk over to the table. On it you will find leather straps identical to those worn by Bill on his wrists and ankles. Bill, help her put them on and then secure the straps for her whipping." Things were now happening too fast. The desire in my loins had reached a crescendo that was new to me. I was tempted to masturbate myself to get some relief. I wasn't at all concerned about doing this in front of Bill and Peggy, so urgent was my need for surcease. What I was concerned about, though, was the additional punishment that I was sure it would bring from Peggy if I dared to do such a thing. Straps on my ankles and wrists - ankles secured to the floor bolts where Bill had recently had his ankles chained - wrists above my head and fastened to the rafter, I waited for what I knew was to follow. "Gloria, are you ready for your discipline now?" "Yes, ma'am." "I want you to ask for it properly. I want you to ask me to spank you on the bottom. I want you to ask me to make you cry from your spanking. Go ahead." "Yes, ma'am. Please spank me now until I cry." Peggy said nothing but instead began smacking my buttocks with the palm of her hand. First the left buttock, then the right, then left, right, left, right, left, right. The spanking wasn't particularly severe and, again, I surprised myself by wishing that she would spank harder. Somehow, apparently, she guessed what I was thinking. "Is that hard enough for you, Gloria? Or, do you want me to spank harder? Answer me, now." "Please spank me harder, ma'am. Please spank me so that I'll cry." I immediately got my wish as Peggy started smacking me much harder now. Her hand made a loud smacking noise each time that it came into contact with my buttocks. I could feel the heat of the spanking in my butt. I could also, as Peggy had explained that I would, feel the heat spreading to between my legs. I suddenly realized, somewhat to my dismay, that I was fast approaching sexual release from the spanking. Again, Peggy somehow seemed able to read my mind as her spanking hand increased both the speed and strength of the smacks. "Do you want to orgasm from your spanking, Gloria? Bill, get over here and on your knees between her legs. I want you to lick Gloria's pussy while I spank her." Directly, I felt Bill between my spread thighs and, as his tongue met my pussy, I started to orgasm as never before. I'd read about and heard about multiple orgasms but had never experienced one before. As I felt Peggy spank harder and faster, my orgasm took over and spread throughout my entire body. Normally, I would experience this feeling as waves that washed over me and subsided after thirty seconds or so. Not this time. As the sexual waves washed over me, I felt the same intensity that I always felt at such a moment. But, instead of subsiding, the sensations continued to build into another peak and another and another. I heard my own voice now. Shameless. "Yes, thank you. Please keep it up. Yes. Yes. Oh, God. Ohhh." When I thought that I could stand it no more, Peggy suddenly ceased with her hand and told Bill to stop. I was breathing heavily and trying to catch my wind as I watched Peggy stride to the table and pick up the paddle laying there. I felt a lump in my throat as I realized that she meant to paddle me with the wooden paddle. I considered pleading with her but had already learned that this would only merit me additional punishment for the whining. I told myself that the paddle couldn't possibly hurt that much more than the spanking that I'd just received. I found out quickly how terribly mistaken I was on that score. Peggy had resumed her position behind me after getting the paddle and I waited for her to begin. "Do you have anything that you wish to say, Gloria." I thought that I knew what she wanted me to say and responded accordingly. "Please paddle me now, Peggy. Please paddle me until I cry." "You might have wondered why I spanked you so lightly. So lightly that you have yet to shed tears from your punishment. I wanted to save your tears for the paddle. I plan to give you an even dozen swats. After I deliver each swat, you will thank me and ask for the next. The way that you will do this is to say, 'Thank you, ma'am, another please?'. Now, are we clear? Do you understand me, Gloria?" "Yes, ma'am." "Crack" The paddle exploded across my ass at the same moment that Bill returned his attentions to my sopping pussy. God, how it stung. I felt as if I had sat down on a hot steam iron or a nest of honey bees. "Thank you, ma'am, another please?" "Smack." "Thank you, ma'am, another please?" "Smack." "Thank you, ma'am, another please?" On the third stroke, I began to cry. On the fourth, the tears were running down both cheeks. On the fifth, I started begging. "Oh, please, Peggy. This is my first paddling ever. Can't you go a bit lighter? Please? I'll do anything that you tell me to do, just no more now. Please." "Crack." If it was possible, the sixth was harder than any of the first five. I knew that it was Peggy responding to my pleas and determined to beg no more. "Th-th-thank you ma'am, a-another puh-please?" I had never in my life stuttered but I did now. I felt like and sounded like a naughty little girl who had misbehaved and was now getting her just punishment. It was embarrassing; it was humiliating; it was painful; and, it was exciting. I could feel Bill suckling on my clitoris and knew that he was trying to bring me to another orgasm along with the pain of the paddle. "Smack." "Thank you, ma'am, another please?" Five more to go. "Crack." I felt that I could take no more. In spite of this feeling, though, I obeyed. "Thank you, ma'am, another please?" "As I will teach you when it is your turn to whip Bill, the secret is in the wrist action. The sting of the paddle is very much intensified with the proper wrist English applied for good measure." "Crack." "Oh, please, please. Peggy, please can't we stop the paddling? I promise you. We can do it some other time." "Crack...crack...crack...crack." Four hard swats delivered with no pause between them. I knew that Peggy was simply punishing me for my begging. But, even though I knew this, the pain of the paddle was driving me crazy. "Oh, Peggy, that's a dozen. Can't we stop?" "Crack...crack...crack...crack." "Oh, please." And then, correcting myself, "Thank you ma'am, another please?" Finally mouthing the words as I was supposed to, I knew that Peggy would be more than willing to accommodate my request for another. "Crack." And, at that, I started experiencing an orgasm to end all orgasms. I swear, my toenails curled and my hair hurt so intense was it. Peggy, realizing what I was feeling, started swinging the paddle harder and more quickly. "The paddling will end when your pleasure peaks, Gloria." I barely heard her words as the waves of my orgasm continued to spread to every square inch of my body. I suddenly understood why the French referred to this as 'the little death'. I can only remember feeling like I was all ass and pussy during the following moments. My mind registered pain/pleasure - pleasure/pain - in a series of confusing signals to the brain by the expertise of Bill, yet on his knees before me and sucking my pussy for all he was worth; and the continued contact of the wooden paddle with my ass as Peggy kept smacking it repeatedly as she had promised. I think that I must have lost consciousness since I have only a dim memory of the paddling (and my pleasure) ending, my body being released and being led to the sofa by Bill and Peggy holding me up on either side. They thoughtfully laid me on my tummy and Peggy sent Bill to fetch me a glass of wine. "It's over now, Gloria. Calm down. You did beautifully and I could tell that you enjoyed the experience immensely. Here, take a drink." Taking small sips of the wine, I found its tart taste invigorating. I knew that I could now give Bill the whipping that I was promised and I wanted to get to it immediately. "Can I whip him now? I want to do it while my ass is still on fire. I tend to think that I'll show less mercy when I hurt so much myself. And, I definitely don't wish to show the first hint of mercy." "Bill, I sure hope that you're ready to scream. Because, if Peggy will let me, I intend to demonstrate that I can give it as well as receive it. Can I whip him now, Peggy?" "Bill, assume the position. Come on, Gloria, you've earned the privilege. Let me help you fasten him." "No. Thanks, anyway, Peggy. If it's OK with you, I want to do it all by myself." Getting no objection from Peggy, I hastened to fasten the bindings at Bill's ankles and wrists so that I could proceed. "Are you afraid, Bill? You should be. This is the first time that I've had the opportunity to whip a man and I intend to whip you very severely." I was standing in front of Bill, looking directly into his eyes as I spoke and I was gratified to see the beginning of real fear there. My hands were busy massaging his cock and I was tempted to ask permission to make him ejaculate again but decided to forego this pleasure for now. "Peggy, I want to use the can. From what I could see earlier, it seems to cause the most pain and pain is what I want to give him - in a very big dose. Do I have your permission to can him severely?" "As long as you restrict the blows of the can to his ass, you have a free hand, honey. Enjoy yourself.I fetched the cane from the floor where it had lain since having been discarded earlier and took up my position to the side and slightly behind the hanging nude form of her husband. Enough talk. Time to whip some ass! In the next few minutes, I confirmed my suspicion that I would enjoy hearing Bill beg and cry from a whipping with no gag to interfere. I swung the cane experimentally and measured his reaction each time that it met with his naked, already punished, ass. With each stroke, I increased the strength of my swing and was rewarded within six cuts by his voice, broken with sobbing. "Please, Peggy, it's too hard. Please make her stop." When I heard Bill begin to beg, I got pissed. What a baby, I thought. If I could take a paddling on my female bottom, he could damn well endure a little caning on his male one. I decided to see how far I could take this. Ignoring his crying and carrying on, I began swinging the cane as fast and as hard as I could for perhaps eight or ten cuts. By the end of this volley, Bill was beside himself. His begging would have been touching had I not just been hanging where his body now hung. Because of this, I ignored him and looked at Peggy as he begged. "Please, Peggy. Peggy, it's too much. Make Gloria stop. She's whipping me too hard. Please. Please. Please, make her stop." "I want to make him cum before I finish his caning. May I?" "Go ahead, he's all yours." Without even thinking about it, I dropped the cane to the basement floor and moved to my position in front of his hurting body. I again looked into his eyes as my hands began a slow massage of his genitals. His cock was wet from semen dripping from its end and I used this to lubricate the head while milking the shaft with my other hand. "Cum for me, Bill. Fill my hands with your cum. I might even let you lick them clean before I finish your caning. If you think that the last few minutes have been painful, you won't believe what I will do to your ass after you cum." The cock throbbing in my hand was ready to spurt its seed. Hard as a rock and pulsing with heat, I knew that Bill couldn't control himself much longer. "Now, Bill, fill my hands. Give me all of your cum. I want you to be totally devoid of lust for the last of your caning. I want you to scream with the pain. Cum for me now, Bill!" It was hard to believe that he could produce so much semen again with such a short span of time since his last orgasm. Again, taking my cue from the lessons learned from my dominant friend, I raised first one hand and then the other to his waiting mouth where they were quickly licked clean. Picking up the cane from where I had dropped it, I turned to Peggy. "Peggy, I think that I have done pretty well tonight. I want you to leave Bill and I alone for five minutes. I want him to know that I alone will decide when to stop his caning. I want him to beg me - not you. Will you do this for me?" "What do you think, Bill? Should I let her have you at her mercy?" "Please, Peggy, stay with us. She'll whip me too hard. Please, don't leave me alone." "Wrong answer, Bill. You continue to disappoint me. I hope that Gloria whips you very hard. And, if I get a bad report from her when I return, I'll whip you again after she is through with your sorry ass." "Give it your best, Gloria. I'll be gone for more than five minutes, though. I want to take a shower and that'll give you all the time that you want and then some. Enjoy." "Thank you, ma'am." And Peggy was up the basement stairs and out of sight. Standing in front of Bill, I savored the feeling of power that I felt as I stared into his eyes and saw the tears forming and rolling down his puppy dog cheeks. "I want you to ask me to whip your ass, Bill. You understand that I'm not married to you and feel not the slightest compunction about whipping you much harder than Peggy would. "You understand that your ass belongs to me now and I have every intention of whipping it until it bleeds down your legs. But, first, I want you to ask me for it." "Please, Gloria, do you have to whip me so hard? I already hurt so very much from the whippings that I've already gotten tonight. Please, have mercy, Gloria." "You are only getting me more and more pissed, Bill. 'Be right back." With this, I stepped into position and let fly with the cane. Once, twice, thrice, and on. Ten cuts in not more than thirty seconds. Bill literally wailed. He jerked. He screamed. He begged. And, I absolutely, positively, without any reservation, loved every sweet moment of it. I'd never felt so completely in control in my life. The feeling of power caused by that thin piece of cane pole was a rush that nearly overwhelmed me in its intensity. Again, in front of his hanging, naked body. Again, looking into his eyes. "You know what I want to hear, Bill. What I will hear if you ever want this to end. Speak to me!" "Oh. Oh, Jesus. Please, ma'am, whip me until my ass bleeds down my legs. Oh, God help me. Please. Please." Bill was nearly incoherent from his fear as I again took my position to the side and slightly to the rear of his trembling, nude body. I lost track of how much time passed during the caning that followed. I would be unable to say how many cuts that I gave Bill, how many times that I made him scream in pain. What I know for sure, is that after that night, Bill never again looked at me without fear in his eyes. Fear that I would again have the opportunity of having him hanging from the rafters. Naked, bloody, crying, screaming, begging, hurting, and, completely at my mercy. That night, I was introduced to female domination. That night started a new life for me that provided excitement, sexual gratification, and satisfaction that I'd never know. By allowing myself to submit to the control of my friend, I'd experienced both the joy of submission and the pleasure of loving another woman in a sexual manner. By dominating her husband, I'd learned the joy of assuming the dominant role and the satisfaction of having a man dance to my tune for a change. On the other hand, that night, after all was said and done, was, after all, only "The Beginning".

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/8297.txt

Chili Peeler

HypnoWho

"Jenny, can you hear me?" "Yes." "Good. It's Daddy talking to you. You trust me implicitly. Do you understand? You'll listen to every word I say and you'll trust me in everything I tell you." "Yes," Jenny answered from deep in her hypnosis-induced slumber. Thornton had a sudden twinge of guilt about what he was going to do, but it was quickly swept away. "Jenny, you know that the lesbian lifestyle is not looked upon favorably by most of the people you know. And you have some reservations about not being accepted by your friends and family once they find out. This is true?" "Yes." "Jenny, you only have one hope of not being an outcast. I am that hope... you trust me and love me, and you know that I love you. I am the man that you have been searching for all your life. Jenny, you must answer me truly now. Have you ever thought about making love with me?" "Yes... I was young," Jenny answered, adding on the last to signify that her subconscious mind knew such a thing was wrong. Thornton knew that most all girls had sexual thoughts for their fathers during the awakening sexuality stages, and he used that past thought and expanded it. "Jenny, I know you know that ordinarily such a thing would not be possible. But you now see it as the only way to not become an outcast. You will make love with me as a way to reaffirm your heterosexuality. Every time we make love, it will alleviate your anxieties, and you will feel good about yourself. Do you understand?" "Yes." "I am the most desirable man you've ever met. You've already experienced taboo love with another woman, so it will be easy for you to set aside your inhibitions with me. You will desire my touch, you will give yourself fully to me, and trust that what we do is good and right. Do you understand?" "Yes." "When you awaken, you will make your desires for me known. You will not fear rejection; you know that I want you as much as you want me. You know that together we can have a full, erotic relationship, and neither of us will have any regrets." Thornton's dick was growing into a full-blown erection as he thought about Jenny confessing her implanted desires for him in just a few minutes. "Now, Jenny, I'm going to say a word to you. I want you to remember this word. When I say it to you in the future, you will again relax and go into this deep sleep, without fear. The word is Bougainvillea. Repeat that for me please." "Bougainvillea." "Very good. You will awaken when I count three, feeling refreshed and confident in the relationship you are going to start with me, but not remembering that I have spoken to you. One, two, three..." Jenny's eyes fluttered open, and she again saw her father beside her. His face looked so caring. She realized that he was everything she had ever wanted in a man. If she could be with him, everything would work out. She somehow knew that he wanted her, too. "Daddy?" "Yes, baby, what is it?" Her father reached a hand out to stroke the side of her face. "Daddy, I've got these feelings for you. I know they are wrong, but I can't help it. I think you've got the same feelings for me. I've seen the way you've been staring at me." She covered his hand with her own and turned his palm to her mouth and kissed it. Looking back into his eyes, she continued, "Daddy, I don't want to spend my life without a man. I want to have children... I just feel that if I'm not with you, I'll lose all that. Please show me how good it can be. I need you. I want you. Tell me you want me too." "Jenny, you know I do. I'll help you, baby." Her father leaned over her and brought his mouth down on hers. Jenny kissed him back tentatively at first, but then with more passion as she let her hang-ups go. She knew this was right. She felt his strong hand moving over her breasts now, teasing her small nipples awake. Knowing that he would soon be inside her, loving her like any other woman, made her juices begin to flow.Jenny brought her mouth down onto his lips and kissed him as she hunched further up his body and reached between them. Her fingers wrapped around his swollen member and raised it up to her ready notch. As the fat head slid into her pussyhole, she whimpered into her father's mouth. She slowly pushed backward and his shaft began to disappear between her wide-stretched labia. "Oh, Daddy! Oh, it's filling me up!" Jenny gasped as she brought her mouth off his. She could feel his hands pulling her asscheeks apart as she impaled herself further on him. His lips were on her neck and travelling down the tops of her tits. She raised herself back up on her arms and pushed back hard, packing her pussy full with all the hard dick she could accommodate. Immediately, her cunt exploded in a toe-curling orgasm. Jenny tilted her head back and sobbed as she ground her hips up and down like a stripper looking for a tip. Thornton felt his daughter's cunt grip down on his prick hard and then begin milking it as her cuntal muscles rippled in release. "Oh, that's it, Jenny! Let it go! I can feel you cumming! Oh, that's a good girl! Yeah, work it out, there's more where that came from." Jenny's panting began to lessen until finally she was back down from the pinnacle and once again conscious of her position over her handsome father with her very juicy cunt stuffed with his cock. Thornton reached up and pulled her head down and kissed her lovingly as he flexed his prick in her relaxing hole. Their eyes met and he knew she was ready for more. "It's never been like this," Jenny sighed as she began moving on his cock, slowly relinquishing three inches or so before reclaiming it again up into her sex. "We're just beginning, baby. I promise I'm going to make you forget all about Amanda this summer." He gave her a short hard thrust and she squealed in appreciation.Lisa walked quickly down the hall to her room. 'I can't believe I did that,' Lisa thought as she replayed how she chickened out on telling Jenny that she was beautiful and desirable and sexy and if she ever thought about experimenting, just to see what it would be like, I've thought about you that way, etc. She planned it all out, moving the towel. But she'd lost her nerve. 'What did you expect her to say? Yes, I have thought about sex with you, Lisa. In fact, let's get naked right now and roll around on the floor!...Well, at least Jenny hadn't caught on,' Lisa rationalized, as she changed for dinner. Later, after dinner, Thornton was leaning against the kitchen counter talking with Stevie as she finished loading the dishwasher with the few plates from dinner. Closing the washer door, Stevie moved in front of him to grab her wine glass from the counter and her husband swept her into his arms. "Have I told you how sexy you are, lately?" Alec said as his hands swept down to grab her ass through her dress slacks. He felt suddenly guilty for not giving Stephana enough attention. "Hmmm, I think you told me that several times on Friday night," Stevie said as she wrapped her arms around his neck and let her long body lean against him. "Our guest really got you going," Thornton said as he nibbled her ear and remembered how flushed and primal Stevie had become during that night's three-way with Jasmine. Stevie leaned her head back and looked at Alec. "It was the best. Tell me you're planning on bringing her back for more." "Maybe," Thornton teased as he handed Stevie her wine glass and refilled it from the nearby open bottle before continuing, "but maybe you'd like to try someone else." Thornton didn't have anyone in mind but he wanted to see what her reaction would be. "OH!" Stevie laughed. "It's that easy, is it? Well, let me put my order in." She giggled as she sipped her wine. "You'd be surprised how easy it is. So go on. What kind of woman should I bring home for us next time?" "Oh, let's see.........I think I'd like a really hot blonde. Have you got a catalog?" Stevie giggled again as she ground her hips against his. Thornton knew that although Stevie was joking, it was probably a window to her deep desires. Maybe she'd had a thing for one of her friends or maybe she'd been thinking about someone since Friday night. So now all he needed was a sexy blonde, preferably with experience pleasuring other women. Just then, Jenny walked in carrying a plate with some leftovers for her cat which followed closely at her heels. The sight of her triggered some of the lewdest thoughts he'd ever had. Jenny going down on Stevie while his wife sucked his cock....Stevie and Jenny in a hot 69 while he jacked off over them.....his wife sitting on Jenny's tongue, facing him, holding his daughter's ankles, pulling her lovely legs wide and watching as he filled Jenny's pussy with........ Stevie moved away from him as she heard Jenny's footsteps and it snapped Thornton back to reality. But just as quickly, he realized his reality was what he made it. 'Who am I kidding? That is where all this is heading. No more putting people under every time he wanted to have sex with someone else in the house,' he thought. Jenny turned to get up from where she'd placed the plate on the floor and saw them. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know you guys were in here." She swept her blonde hair back over one ear and gave them a knowing smile. She left the way she had come in. "You OK, honey?" Stephana asked Alec. A strange look had come over his face; he looked like he was a million miles away.

Part 8

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11106.txt

Friar Dave

KEVIN

"Yes!" she hissed. He pulled his zipper open and turned, pushing her back to sit on the side of his bed. Her eyes were wide and her face flushed. She put one hand between her legs and clamped her thighs around it. He put his hand on the waistband of his jeans and turned to face her. "You, too," he croaked. She nodded emphatically. "I will -- I'm rubbing now." He shook his head. "Off." She blushed madly. "...alright..." He waited until she finally fumbled open her jeans. She rolled onto her back on his bed and lifted her legs high to pull them off. She tossed them aside as she rolled upright again. Kevin stared intently at the juncture of her thighs, where her white panties had a small damp spot. "Well?" she asked. "I usually have them on in bed!" "But I can't see." Her breathing came faster. "Well...alright..." She shimmied her panties off her hips, quickly yanked them to her thighs and then worked them down over her knees and ankles. Still furiously blushing, she said, "Now you." His gaze zoomed in. He'd seen pictures, split-beaver shots, but this was the first real, live pussy he'd ever seen. It was all bare, and there were two slightly swollen, reddish folds of flesh outlining a thin cleft. He bent to push his jeans and briefs down, his face getting closer to her legs. "Open them," he breathed as he got his clothes over his knees and his prick bounced free. He heard his sister gasp and saw her trembling thighs part, and he saw the petals of her sweet pussy spread just slightly. He stood as she put her hand between her legs and started rubbing the top of her labia with one finger. He stepped out of his tangled clothes. His prick was monstrously swollen. "I've never been this wet or tingly," she whispered, rubbing faster. "I've never been this hard..." he confessed. Kevin gripped his dick in his left hand and automatically reached for the tissues with his right. There were only a few left, but enough. He began stroking his cock, breathing faster. Sari leaned closer, her gaze fixed on his cock, her face only inches from his flaring glans. Her finger was flying over her tiny clitoris and pussy. She was grunting softly from time to time, and her hips were shifting. Kevin was close to cumming. Less than a minute, for sure. And then he saw his sister's hand reach up, slowly, toward his cock. He jerked his gaze away from her fingers flying over her pussy and met her questioning stare. He stopped pumping and nodded. Her small fingers came to rest on his cock like timid birds finding a perch. They both gasped. He put his fingers over hers and started the motion. Her mouth hung open slackly, her eyes unblinkingly fixed on his cock and her fingers moving over it. "Yeah," he grunted as she began pumping his prick. Her fingers didn't reach all the way around it, but they were her fingers -- not his. "Oh, yeah." She was frantically rubbing her glistening pussy and panting so hard he could feel her breath on his knob. "It's gonna cum," he gasped. She pumped faster, rubbed desperately. "Yeah!" he grunted. "Yeah! Watch out!" His hips jerked, his nuts convulsed, and he barely got the tissue in front of his cock before he fired off. Sari's eyes widened as the first spurt shot out of his cock. She felt a buzzing around her pussy, down around that magic button she'd discovered. Her cunt felt hungry inside and kept clutching on itself. She jerked her brother's cock faster, but more erratically. His semen was going all over the place -- on the tissue, her hand, the bed, even her cheek. Kevin spasmed again and again, powerfully, thick gushes of jizz that rocketed out of his pulsating cock and quickly soaked the tissue, even though sometimes he missed it repeatedly. When it finally stopped spurting and began to drool, he was breathless, and his knees were weak. He didn't think he'd ever cum so hard or so much. He finally sank slowly to his knees beside the bed, his limp, slippery prick sliding out of his sisters spasmodically clutching grip. Sari's face was tight, and her eyes were glassy. Her legs were flung wide now, all the muscles and tendons of her thighs drawn taut. There was cum on her cheek; she didn't seem to notice. She was making a low keening noise, the sound rising and then concluding with a little grunt -- which coincided with a jerk of her narrow hips. Kneeling by the bed, her pussy was inches from Kevin's face. He stared in fascination. Her labia were swollen and red, and as her finger rubbed around the pink nubbin at the top of her slit, he could see the rosy inner flaps of her pussy, There was moisture all over it. He could smell it, ripe and musky and a little tangy. He could see she was enjoying herself intensely, but he could also see she wasn't sated. He had an idea. Kevin gently put his upper body on the bed between her legs. His head was near the midpoint of her trembling thighs. He turned his face to one side and gently kissed the quivering inner flesh. Her whining grew louder, more frenzied. He turned his head and licked her other thigh. He raised his head to see her reaction. Her mouth was hanging open, and there was a look almost of desperation on her face. Gently, he slipped his hand under her thighs, marveling at how they shook and at how close his fingers came to encircling them. He kissed her right thigh again and then pulled her closer to him. Kevin had read a lot of books. He'd never seen it done, but he had at least an idea. He slid his hands farther and put them beneath the taut, tiny, trembling ass cheeks of his little sister. She let herself fall backward on the bed. Then he lifted her ass to bring her juicy little quim to his face and began to lick it. He had no art or technique, no idea of what was the best way to do it, so he just lapped at her. Her keening rose in volume and held there. He tried to push his tongue inside her. Then he felt her hand at the back of his head, pulling his face against her. He licked his tongue from the base of her hairless pussy all the way up to the place where her finger had been so urgently swirling. His tongue grazed the oily nodule of her clitoris. The effect on Sari was cataclysmic. "UNNNNH!" she grunted loudly, her body going stiff as a steel cable, her thighs clamping on his ears with painful strength. He could feel the muscles around her pussy flexing. Then she began to hunch her narrow pelvis sharply upward, repeatedly. He felt her buttocks tense so hard that he nearly lost his grip on them. He tried to hold onto her as he continued licking, shifting his grip slightly. His left pinky slid in the slippery furrow of her butt and grazed the fearsomely contracted ring of her sphincter.She hunched even harder, and he rubbed the opening until she finally sagged into his hand and her fingers came out of his hair. She was wheezing and moaning as he raised his face from between her still-shaking thighs. Her juices were dripping off his cheeks and chin. He slid his hands out from under her and crawled up beside her. Tears were pouring down her cheeks. "Are you okay, Sa-Sa?" he whispered, caressing her face, where a blob of his thick cum still lingered. Her eyes opened wide. "Oh, Kevvy, Kevvy, Kevvy, that was soooo -- so -- " She rolled to him and clutched him feverishly, madly kissing his face and neck. "That was wonderful! I've never felt anything like that! What was it?" He held her close to him and rolled on his back on the narrow bed, pulling her atop him. Her face was against his chest and her still drooling little pussy was a flame against his bare hip. "That was an orgasm, Sari." "It was even better than the hairsprayer in the tub." She hugged him. "Is that how it feels when you shoot your semen? Can we do it again? How much can we do it and -- " "I don't know how it feels for you -- " "It was like this big balloon swelling inside me -- and then it popped and sent the most amazing feelings all through me, except it kept happening forever." Her breathing was slowing. "Can we do it again?" He smiled. "Any time you want." "When you kissed me down there and started licking me I thought it must be so wicked for anything to feel so good and -- Would it feel that good for me to do it for you? I want to make you feel that way." At that, his limp dick took pointed interest. "I've heard it feels a lot better for a guy than a handjob. But I won't get pregnant if your semen gets in me because I don't have monthlies yet, right?" "You can't get pregnant sucking a guy, even if you swallow all of his semen when you're fertile." The thought of his sweet, cute little sister eagerly sucking him had already brought about a serious revival of his twice-emptied young cock. "You mean swallow all that stuff? How does it taste?" He blinked. "Gee, I don't know." "You never tasted it?" "It never occurred to me." "I tasted my stuff, and I know it's not bad." "Why'd you taste it?" "That first time I got wet, I was afraid it was, you know, an accident or something, but I couldn't smell anything, and I had to keep the lights out so I just put my finger in it and tasted it a little bit." "I tasted you a lot, and I like it. Yum yum." He gave her a squeeze. "What's this about the hair sprayer?" She giggled, her lithe little body writhing atop him. "Well, sometimes when I take a bath I sort of spray the sprayer down there. It's a little too sharp like, but it feels awfully good. But not like when you licked me and pushed your tongue into me. That was the best thing I ever felt my whole entire life." She shifted her leg and brushed the head of his stiff cock. Her head tilted back and she looked up at him and her eyes narrowed mischievously. "Now it's my turn to taste you." His dick twitched. She grinned. "I am going to get even with you for making me feel so good -- but you have to tell me what to do." She began to slither down his body. Her pussy stayed in contact with his flesh all the way. She went slowly and quickly shifted so her little hand was gripping his turgid shaft. When Kevin felt her little lips brush his bared abdomen, he couldn't stifle a groan. Her fingers tightened on his cock and began moving. He felt her breath on his cock and sat up. Sari's slithering had pulled her shirt up to the bottom of her ribs. She had her thighs parted around his shin, and her pussy rubbed back and forth over it. She was supporting her upper body on her right elbow; her left hand held his prick. She was staring at it, contemplatively. "I was thinking," she said softly, almost to herself, "like, when you put your tongue in me it felt good, and sometimes I put a finger in a little bit and it feels good, so I was thinking that maybe it would feel good to put this -- " She squeezed. " -- inside, but it's much too big." She looked up at him. "I don't ever want to hurt you. And even if it wasn't too big, the first time usually hurts, because of your hymen." "What's that?" "Little piece of skin inside your vagina -- " "My what?" "Where I was licking." "Oh." "A little piece of skin part-way in that blocks it." "What's it for?" "I don't know. With it, you're a virgin. Without it, you're not." "Does it grow back?" "No. After the first time, it's not supposed to hurt anymore. Except you'd still be too little." During all of this, she continued jacking him a little and squeezing his cock. "It's awful hard. And big. Hey, is that the semen coming out?" "Uh-uh. That's like pre-semen. It means that I'm going to shoot off soon." And then, in what seemed to Kevin like slow-motion, she leaned forward, stretched out her tongue and slowly dipped it against his glans. He moaned, and his cock swelled at the touch. She pulled her tongue back into her mouth and nodded slightly. "That's not bad," she said. "And it won't hurt me to swallow your semen?" He shook his head, his chest tight. "Not at all. Some people say it makes a girl's boobs grow more, but I don't believe that; I think it's bull." "So should I just -- " And she opened her mouth and draped her lips over his glans. Her mouth was small and his prick was thick. Her teeth scraped his knob. "No teeth, Sari!" She drew back immediately. "You have to open wider till the end is past your teeth." "Okay." She opened her mouth comically wide and lowered it over his cock, then carefully closed her jaws just a little bit, and then Kevin was groaning and shivering with the struggle to hold himself back. Her lips were tight around his shaft, just behind the knob. He felt her tongue trapped against the underside and moving just a little, which forced the top of his knob to rub the rough roof of her mouth. "Oh, geez, yes, that's wonderful," he moaned. He felt her sucking experimentally. His cock throbbed wildly. She felt it and sucked harder, in pulses, with her lips tightening maddeningly about his shaft. She began jacking his shaft again. He reached with trembling fingers and brushed her hair back so he could watch his little sister sucking his cock. Sari looked up, never pausing in her sucking or jerking, to watch her brother's face. His intense pleasure was clear. He kept nodding and sometimes, when she wiggled her tongue, he'd gasp. But quickly, his hips began shifting. Kevin felt the tightness in his nuts. "Gonna do it real soon, Sari, real soon!" She jerked harder, sucked more urgently, slurping down the precum. "Oh, this is so good!" he hissed, caressing her face. Sari was pressing her aching little pussy hard against his shin, He could feel the wetness. He slid his hand farther, down the gaping collar of her oversized shirt, down to where her breasts would one day swell. His fingers brushed her nipple. It was swollen. Carefully, he rubbed back and forth over the turgid nubbin. Sari hunched her cunny harder against his shin, sucked and jerked his dick urgently. When he tweaked her little nipple, she whined in pleasure around the cock stuffing her mouth. The vibrations did it. "Here it comes!" he hissed, and then the semen was surging through his cock. Sari got a look of panic on her face when the first spurt shot into her mouth, but when his prick paused, she swallowed noisily and visibly -- and continued sucking. She was ready when the next shot came, and she swallowed it down without missing a beat. She jerked his dick savagely and continued suckling on her big brother's cock, getting caught up in the sheer licentiousness of what they were doing. As she swallowed his fourth wad, she savored the look of pleasure on his face. She was doing this! *She* was! By the fifth shot, she was swaying back and forth slightly, so her nipple would continue rubbing against his palm. The sixth eruption was noticeably less in volume, so instead of swallowing, she sucked as hard as she could, trying to see how much she could vacuum out of him. Above her, Kevin moaned loudly and sighed as she got his seventh spurt and then the residual cum was oozing into her soft, sweet mouth. He reached down with shaking hands and pulled her mouth off his prick. She tilted her head back and slowly swallowed one last time. "Oh, Sari -- that was the best." She smiled and let him pull her into his arms. "I liked doing that." "Really?" She responded with an exaggerated nod. "Really." "How does it taste?" "Not bad. Really strong flavor, but not too bad. But I really liked it. It made me so tingly, I almost had another orgasm when you touched my nipple." She frowned. "I wish I already had bigger boobs. I like it when you touch me there." He slid his hand up under her shirt and caressed her nipples, moving from one to the other. Her face got dreamy. "I'll touch them. And kiss them. And lick and suck them. And between your legs. Any time you want, any thing you want, that makes you feel good." "And maybe if I lay the other way on top of you, you can lick my place while I suck your penis." "And maybe if I lay the other way on top of you, you can lick my place while I suck your penis." "Whatever. Hey, you know something?" He shook his head. "Promise you won't get mad?" "I promise." "I love you." "And I love you." They held each other tightly. Outside, in the park, Jack was looking at Carol and wondering how he could grab her boob and get away before she belted him. Kevin and Sari tried -- and fell madly in love with -- sixty-nining. For months, at every opportunity, they'd be feasting on each other.In fact, on one such occasion when Kevin was crouched over and licking -- with ever-growing expertise -- her soaking little pussy, she stopped sucking long enough to ask him to play with her butthole. Which he did, and she had her best and strongest orgasm to date with his finger wiggling up her almost-12-year-old backside. It became a regular feature for their fun, and before long, she discovered she could cum just from that. They went through a lot of hand cream that way. A couple of months later, she suggested Kevin put something larger -- considerably larger -- up there. He was dubious, but willing. With great patience, half a bottle of Vaseline Intensive Care and some stretching, she managed to get his knob inside her. Kevin came almost instantly, and Sari, for the first time, felt a man cumming inside her. She liked it. A lot. Within a month, they managed to get the whole thing in. When Sari touched her own clitoris while her brother pumped his penis in her backside, she would cum almost continuously. More than once she fainted. At about this time her breasts began to bud, to her eternal relief -- most of her friends were already wearing bras -- and Kevin took even more delight in licking and sucking her ever-growing titties. A few weeks later, while lavishing kisses upon her delicious young vagina, Kevin found the first tiny sprouts of her pubic hair. Sari was ecstatic. He still wouldn't try to enter her vagina, though. He couldn't bring himself to the pain of deflowering her, though she loved feeling his finger there. In exasperation, she finally popped it herself in the tub one night, putting her toothbrush to a hitherto unsuspected application. It stung more than she'd expected, but there wasn't much blood. A year -- almost to the day -- after that first glorious experimentation, Sari finally got her way. She discovered Kevin's cock was significantly thicker -- and longer -- than her toothbrush, but she got used to it pretty fast. He wore a condom. She decided that she preferred it in the ass; she liked feeling his cum inside her. They experimented with him starting in front and then moving to the rear for the climax but decided it was too risky. This continued for another year. They almost got caught a few times, but they lucked out. Sari blossomed quickly, her hips widening and her legs filling out and her breasts becoming high and firm and enticing. And then Kevin won a scholarship to Penn State. They had far fewer opportunities to enjoy their "play time," as they called it, but they did when they could. In his sophomore year, when he had a small studio apartment off-campus, she persuaded her parents to let her visit her big brother for a weekend, taking the train to see him. As he'd promised their folks, he never took his eyes off her. In fact, they never left the studio for those two days. By then, Sari had bloomed into a striking little beauty. Inevitably, she was asked on dates, but her parents insisted that at 14, she was too young. But Sari had gotten used to regular sex, and she missed it -- a lot. The following spring, the Howleys split up, and Mrs. Howley went to work. Sari took to watching Nora in the afternoons after school, figuring that if she found the right guy, she could use the apartment before Nora got home from school. One Friday afternoon, Mrs. H. remarked that she was surprised Sari didn't have a lot of boyfriends, as pretty as she was. Sari explained about her parents. To which Mrs. H. added that it was sad to think of so pretty a girl not getting her first real kiss until she was 16. To which Sari replied, with a blush and a chuckle, that she certainly had gotten a real kiss. To which Mrs. H. responded by asking, "Yes, but from a woman?" The next day, from a pay phone and with a pocket full of quarters, Sari called her brother. "Is everything okay, Sa-Sa?" "Just fine." She giggled. "By the way, remember how you used to fantasize about Mrs. Howley?" "Yeah. Why?" "Guess what?" "What?" "She keeps it shaved."

Part 2

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/14581.txt

Friar Dave

Elly

"David!" I opened my eyes wider and scanned the crowded Sunday-morning sidewalk. Sunday morning in a neighborhood that's almost all Polish, Italian, Irish and Latino means the sidewalks are Mass confusion, if you get my drift. And I was not all that fully awake anyway, having finished Saturday night only six hours before. "David!" The voice was right in front of me now. I looked down. Recognition came slowly. I blinked. "Elly?" She smiled prettily and hoisted herself up and gave a light kiss on my beard, catching me by surprise. I stared at her. "You look unbelievable," I said, with complete sincerity. And her appearance was more than half the reason I hadn't recognized her. I hadn't seen Elly in about 18 months. She'd just turned 17 a few weeks before we'd last bumped into each other. She'd been pretty much as she'd been the first time I'd met her, three years before. Elly was very short -- four-foot-seven, I learned later -- but not petite by about 20 pounds. Elly could have stood to lose that much and maybe a couple of pounds more, because a great deal of baby fat had still clung to an otherwise fine-boned frame. She had a pretty, round face and Big Hair and seemed determined to dress as unattractively as possible. The last time I'd seen her, she was still just the plump, sweet, smart kid who sometimes needed someone with whom to talk. Elly had made some serious changes. Make that Changes, with a capital "C." The change that was unavoidably obvious was her figure. She'd done away with most of the weight; the rest had been redistributed. She'd always been buxom; now she'd melted the baby fat and what was left was just busty. Even dressed to deemphasize it, she had an astonishing bust, the more so for her otherwise-slender frame. She was dressed to deemphasize it, but nothing could hide it. Elly had a figure designed by the feverish imagination of a 14-year-old acne farm. She was very slim-hipped. She had no waist at all; the way she cinched her fashionably cut loose jeans betrayed that. Her waist couldn't have measured more than 18 or 19 inches. But even the oversized flannel shirt (it was spring, but the Weather Gods had left some nip in the air to remind us that winter wasn't very long gone) and the oversized vest, unbuttoned, couldn't hide the swell of her breasts. Words like "massive," "huge" and "coconuts" came to mind. I probably could have worn the shirt she had on, and I'm a size 42; she still couldn't button the top three buttons over those tits. But as fabulous as her figure was, as radiant as her newly slimmed and well made-up face was, it was her sheer vivacity that commanded attention. She was glowing and vibrant and gushing with news. She'd just signed on for a co-op in Flushing, and then she'd lost her job -- at Shearson Lehman -- but it didn't bother her. She was looking for work as an administrative assistant and was sure she could find it quickly. I agreed. Best of all, she'd done something I'd nagged her about in most of our last conversation -- she'd had the doctor do a biopsy of the cyst in her uterus -- and it had been removed early enough to ensure that she was healthy and free from The Bastard That Kills. Damn, she looked good! Her jeans clung to slim hips and legs that were just a shade too short for her diminutive height. She'd had her hair cut differently, a bit longer and less full. Her eyes sparkled and her lips and nose were perfect for her face. Elly had turned into a little beauty. But she wasn't happy. She'd been taken with this fella for the past couple of months, an Afghan refugee, and she had the distinct feeling that he wouldn't be devastated if she left him. That, to her, meant he didn't care much. We talked, and she told me she had a job interview for Tuesday morning, and she was tickled at the idea of meeting me for lunch when she was done. I sensed a tingly tension with her. She'd gone from a pudgy 18-year-old to a devastatingly sexy 20-year-old, and I wanted to explore it more (not being nearly as dumb as I look). She called at noon, and I had her come to my office, in the Village. I brought my company's jobs listing with me and took her to a good neighborhood restaurant, China Bowl. Their prices were reasonable, the ambience was unhurried and a sign in the window proudly (and truthfully) proclaimed that they never used MSG. Our waitress, who went by the name of Alice, was familiar to me. Alice and I had played trade-smiles-and try-to-catch-the-other-one-looking games for about three months. Alice, who was about Elly's height, came over for our order, took one look at Elly's preposterous bust -- not too effectively hidden by a very conservatively cut neck-high collar -- and gave me a look that said she was sure she could never compete with THOSE. Elly and I had a pleasant lunch, and she thought my suggestion was nice -- that she stop by my place later in the week and see what I'd done with it. She rang my bell at 8:03 on Friday and I buzzed her in. She was wearing jeans again and a simple, plum blouse under a loose cardigan. The blouse was tucked into her waistband, and when the cardigan came off, it looked like she'd stuffed a pair of cantaloupes into her blouse. I gave her a glass of white wine -- her choice -- and the two-bit tour. She thought my alleged cat was cute. She admired the photo montages of friends and family and the cat. She enjoyed the stereo -- choosing a recording by Kitaro, much to my surprise and pleasure -- and ooohed and ahhed at the little study I'd created; it's the place where I write. In the living room, she admired the nude torso framed on one wall. She asked; I told her: "Yes, that's her. It was taken by one of her former lovers." But what got her was the opposite wall: "Did you READ all of these?" I am always surprised when someone is impressed by the Library Wall in the living room. I explained to her that if you read for an hour a day, you read a couple of books a week. In thirty years, that's around three thousand books. If you save some books -- well, you pretty quickly end up with the Library Wall. My living room is only 20-feet long, so a wall of books isn't that big a deal. But Elly was impressed. We sat, drinking wine and talked. I asked after some of her friends. One was dying of AIDS. "I'm glad I got out of that crowd," she said."When they started getting into stuff past a few joints, I got scared. He was doing needles, so I guess that's where he got it." "There are lots of ways to get it." She drained her glass. "Don't I know it! When I went to get tested for it -- " "You did?" She nodded, eyes wide, as I poured more wine for her. Of course she did, she said -- as if there were no other reasonable course. She was crazy about her Afghan refugee. "You think I want to take a chance on killing him? No way!" Which was, I told her, exactly the way my Significant Other and I felt and why we'd gotten tested. The talk moved on to cheerier subjects and later, after more chatting and catching up -- and her doing in two-thirds of a bottle of wine -- she started examining the titles of the books. She asked if she could look at one on a high shelf. I started to get up from the couch. "I'll get it. I just wanted to know if it was okay to look at it." "Sure, help yourself." She got the little folding step-stool from the corner and set it up. It's only a four-step job, so she had to stand on the top. I went to steady her -- remember that wine -- and as soon as I got there, she turned half-way and started toppling. I caught her, with my hands at her trim waist. Her cheeks were flushed, and the redness was spreading down her neck and throat and into the vee of pale flesh exposed by the three unfastened buttons. She put her hands on either side of my face, bent her head and kissed me. Her breath was sweetly tinged with the wine, and her lips were taut and urgent. They opened immediately and her tongue danced with mine, teasing, then searching and demanding. Her tongue was rather long, too. She seemed to have no difficulty running it over the roof of my mouth, and I know it reached farther than any other I'd encountered. It was somehow making me even more aroused. Without breaking the kiss or moving my hands from her waist, I lifted her off the step-stool. She wrapped her arms around my neck and I had to bend to maintain the kiss as I stood her on the floor. I put my arms all the way around her and pressed her up and against me. Her breasts, so huge and full, were crushed against me. She was arching her back deeply to catch my leg between her thighs and rub her denim-clad crotch against my knee. I ran my hands up and down over her back, then reached down and covered her ass, one hand to a cheek. Her hips were so narrow and her butt so tight and hard that I was momentarily taken aback; it was almost like squeezing a preteen girl's ass. But there was nothing kid-like in the heat or experience in her hungry kiss, or in the way she was writhing against me. And there sure as hell was nothing childlike in the massive pressure of her firm, bounteous breasts against me. When she finally broke the kiss, she leaned back in my arms, otherwise remaining pressed against me and letting me support most of her weight. Her eyes were closed and there was a small smile on her flushed face. "I have wanted to do that for four years," she said. "And I've wanted you to do that, too." Her eyes opened. "Did you know that?" I shook my head. "And you don't remember the time I told you that one of the things I liked best about you was that you'd never tried to come on to me." Again, I shook my head. "And you don't remember telling me that you liked me and thought I was cute, but that I felt bad about myself and that was why I was overweight, and I felt bad about myself because I was overweight." I was starting to remember something, now... "And do you remember telling me that if I was a few years older and about 20 percent thinner, then you'd have more of a problem not making a pass at me?" "Uhhhh --- Well -- " Her smile widened. "I'm a few years older and a lot thinner -- mostly -- and just like you said, you're making a pass at me. And guess what?" "What?" "Pass received." She brought one hand up and quickly unbuttoned her blouse. The bra she wore wasn't meant to be sexy. It was meant to contain and support breasts that belonged on an over-endowed woman a foot taller and 30 pounds heavier. It wasn't containing them, though. Her tits swelled up and around the edges of the cotton, creamy swells of billowy pale flesh that was just tinged with a flush of arousal. And that made it a sexy damn bra. I swallowed. Her fingers went to the clasp between the two overflowing cups. Her fingers moved. The clasp released. The bra slid back partly, unable to deal with the pressure of her large breasts. "Did you ever suspect that sometimes when I called you and asked about relationships and how they could be, I was sitting in my bathrobe?" "No, I never -- " She was shimmying her shoulders, and the bra was opening wider and wider. "Or that sometimes, when we were talking, I was getting wet and starting to touch myself, imagining what it would be like to have you making love to me?" "Not even once." She shimmied and the cups fell back from her breasts. They were magnificent. The bra hadn't been able to contain them, and judging by the firmness of the 20-year-old tits jutting up at me, it hadn't been *absolutely* necessary for support, either. "I used to imagine you kissing and licking my breasts -- not like the grabby guys my own age or the dirty old pigs that were always copping feels -- but just sweetly, lovingly, hungrily devouring my tits...Would you like to do that?" "Guess what, Elly?" She frowned. "What?" "Pass received." I lifted her easily and turned, setting her tiny butt on the arm of the loveseat, then I bent slightly and began kissing and licking her magnificently excessive tits, trying furiously to live up to the lurid imaginings of the pudgy 17-year-old who'd encased this gloriously sexy 20-year-old. I tried to guess what she'd fantasized, planning to live up to it -- if biologically possible -- but abandoned that effort in, oh, five-sixteenths of a second. So I just went with instinct and Me. I bent and licked her shoulders, then down her arm. I trilled my tongue in the hollow of her elbow and watched the goosebumps rise and felt her shiver. Then I went to work on her breasts. Twenty years old or not, tits that big are required by Gravity to have some sag to them, and hers weren't lawbreakers -- but they were bending the rules pretty good. I licked the underswells of each gorgeously curved mound and then kissed along the outer edge. Then I moved my tongue around and around, slowly, on each breast, working closer to each nipple and never...quite...reaching...it. My saliva had coated the pale flesh of her mountainous boobies, and her nipples swelled hugely in response to being left out of the treatment. Her aureoles were no larger than 25-cent pieces, making them oddly tiny in proportion to her tits, but the nozzles themselves were outstanding. They swelled up and out, stretching easily three-quarters of an inch and as thick as pencil erasers. Her hands had come up to either side of my head, and she was trying to force my mouth onto her nipples. I let her -- but my mouth draped over each one, open, and I withheld my tongue, so no matter how much she pressed my face into the firm, fragrant abundance, her nipples were untouched. She was moaning for me to attend to them, but I had another idea. I figured a girl with such huge, gorgeous breasts probably had her nipples grabbed by every moron who got his digits near them. I also figured that absence makes the frond grow harder. So I stayed completely away from touching her nipples. It made her crazy. But while my lips and tongue were busy with her abundant upper attractions, my hands had been steadily caressing and stroking her curvy, slim legs. My right hand was gently moving up and down over the denim-clad chub of her mons. I could feel the heat through the fabric of her jeans and whatever else she was or wasn't wearing beneath them. I unsnapped the waistband of her jeans and lowered the zipper. I could almost feel the humidity rising in waves from the v-opening. I began kissing below her breasts, working my way down over her abdomen. That's what you call that part of the torso on a woman in her condition: "abdomen." "Belly" is too soft a word. From the definition of the muscles crisscrossing her tummy, it was obvious that she'd been burning calories with serious exercise. I could easily find the ridges of hard muscle beneath the smooth, minimal layer of normal, healthy human fat by tracing and exploring with my tongue. That's just what I did: explore with my tongue. I traced and delineated every smooth ripple of firm abdominal muscle, always working lower, and as my tongue finally found and reached the limits of her opened zipper, her hands came down to either side of my head, pushing me lower, always lower. As deep as the V went, it didn't reach deep enough. I couldn't even touch her pubic hair with my tongue and had no choice but finally to halt and stand. "Put your arms around my neck," I whispered -- mostly because my voice wasn't working quite right at that moment -- and she complied willingly. My plan was to stand with her hanging on me and push the jeans down off her narrow hips. Would've worked, too. But she also put her legs around me, just above my hips, hooking her ankles behind my back. "Bed?" she breathed and pulled her mouth close to my ear. Her tongue, wet and serpentine, wriggled into my ear. "Bed?" Her breath was fire on me. "Buh," was all I could say. I cupped her tight little jeans-clad ass in my hands, one paw under and covering each cheek, and walked through my home office, down the hall and into the bedroom. She was kissing my beard and ears all the way. I bent at the foot of the bed and braced myself with my hands. She released her leglock on my waist and brought her hands down over the front of my shirt, undoing buttons as she went.When I straightened, she rolled lithely to her knees and pushed my shirt back. Her blouse and bra were in complete disarray, her lush breasts exposed and quivering. Her nipples -- I can't stop thinking about how her nipples looked with those nubbly aureoles and the immensely swollen nozzles turning almost purple. Her hands were busy, unsnapping the waist of my slacks and dragging down the zipper. She pushed the jeans down and then my briefs, and my dick popped free, standing straight out and pointing at her face like some turret gun tracking its target. She grabbed my penis and for the first time, after knowing her for something like four years, I realized how small her hands were. My dick is about an inch and three-quarters in diameter -- right within the standard variation, and no one has ever swooned at the sight -- and her fingers barely reached around it. She rolled onto her side at the foot of the bed, putting my dick almost exactly on the same level as her face --as her mouth, to be precise. She ducked her head forward and began moving her tongue around my glans, slowly swirling. That's something you may have heard of, but let me tell you: I've been with a few women, and the awkwardness of the movement usually restricts it to something that's really pleasant but not accurately described as "swirling." She swirled. Her tongue was agile, experienced, limber and long enough to do the job. Not to mention, tireless. She moved it around and around my fat dick head, all the time moving her lips closer and closer to my glans. Her slim little fingers were gripping the base of my cock, her tongue was swirling, her lips were nearing, and from time to time she'd glance up at me, and her eyes would sparkle. Her other hand? She was playing with her breasts, caressing them briefly and spending a lot of time pinching and twisting her nipples a lot more vigorously than I would have. Even laying crossways on the bed, she could almost have straightened her lithe legs. I reached down and caressed her face. She closed her eyes dreamily and pushed her head forward a little more and fastened her lips around the head of my dick. She let go of the base of my cock and reached up to rest her delicate hand on my hip. She guided me toward her a little bit, then back. As I pressed forward, she took about half my cock into her mouth. Her tongue did wonderful things to the underside of my shaft, and her cheeks were drawn inward with the force of her sucking. I caressed her face again, and she shivered slightly. I traced my finger around the side of her mouth, up her jaw to her ear, then back down to where my dick was outlined through her concaved cheeks. Her flush had spread to her fabulous breasts. My hand went farther. I caressed the beautiful swells, using just my fingertips to glide over the silken, full flesh of the undercurves -- or what would have been the undercurves. They were already firm; aroused and laying on her back, they stood up like pale hills. Still, when I touched her like that, she sucked even harder, and her tongue did amazing and mysterious things. I brushed my fingertips across her hard little belly, then began pushing her jeans down over her hips. She wriggled, sinuous and smooth as an eel, and then she wore only pale blue -- sodden -- panties, cut high across her thighs. I pushed them down, too, and then she was naked before me on my bed. In the dim glow that filtered through the blinds, I saw that her pussy was topped with a small tuft of fine sparse curls, but the border was too uneven for it to have been trimmed. I knelt astride her head and slid my hands under her butt. I couldn't believe how tight her asscheeks were! It was exactly like holding two little mounds of hard foam rubber...but considerably more pleasant. I began kissing and licking just above her knees. When I slid my hands to the back of her knees and pulled her legs open, her sucking hesitated. When I pressed my lips to the taut flesh on the inside of one shapely thigh, I felt her groaning around my turgid dong. The vibrations were excruciating on my swollen, over-sensitized cock flesh. My balls were starting to tighten ominously. I licked higher on her thighs, forced by the disparity in our heights to slide back until my dick was threatening to pop out of her mouth -- which was the idea at the moment: I didn't want to cum so quickly. But Elly had other ideas. She arched back and up, maintaining her lip-grip on my glans as long as possible. And she was clamping her thighs back together as my tongue approached her barely furred cunt. I slid back a little farther, and my dick popped out of her mouth. I licked around the edges of her pubic hair and then pressed my tongue down between her tightly clamped thighs to brush as much of her labia as I could. Her musk was almost dizzying in fresh sweetness. She gasped and her hands came down to push my head away. "Stop!" she hissed. "You're starting to lick me...down there." "I know," I said. "I'm trying to." This seemed to stun her. "You mean -- you *want* to lick me down there?" "You betcha. Or don't you like it?" "Well, sure, but -- you really want to?" I knelt upright and looked down -- past my throbbing cock -- at her. "Been craving it." "But then I can't suck you! I'm too short to -- " "I know, but if you keep doing those lovely things, I'm going to cum in your mouth." "Ooooo...I hope so!" Her hands were back on my hips, anchoring her so she could pull herself up and get my dick back in her mouth from underneath. "I want you to cum in my mouth," she breathed hotly onto my glans, her tongue flickering onto the underside of my shaft for unnecessary emphasis. She used her hands to urge me to lay back. She rolled to her hands and knees on the bed. "I want you to lay back and let me suck you and -- " Who was I to refuse a lady? Especially since as she talked about it and as her tongue touched my cock, her hips began to move as if she were being soundly fucked. She was, I realized with a dull thud, one of those women who gets off on sucking cock. Heh. I sprawled crossways on the bed, with my legs hanging off at the knees. She scrambled over me, brushing me with her luscious tits in the process, and arranged herself perpendicular to me. Her face was at my groin. She took my cock into her hot mouth again, and this time she moaned as she sucked it slowly into her face. My dick hit the back of her throat and she groaned, backed off, then shifted her angle a bit. She took it slowly back in and kept gulping until she had her lips into the coppery hair around the base of my cock and her nose was pressed flat against my abdomen. This time I was the one who groaned. She sucked powerfully on me. She began to back my dick out of her throat. When only the head remained between her lips, she slowly pushed her face down again. I reached down with one hand and caressed her hair and her shoulders, then slid my hand over her torso and squeezed her cute little butt. I brought my hand under and around to cup one big tit. She quickened her pace slowly, inexorably. As she came down, my hand was pressed between her breast and my abdomen, her swollen nipple grinding hot and pebble-hard into my palm. I rubbed a little bit, and she groaned. Her groan vibrated my dick, eliciting an answering groan from me -- which seemed to excite her still more. Her hips were hunching slowly, almost grinding at the empty air. She was sucking harder and bobbing a little faster. I felt the tingling buzz through me and whispered, "I'm cumming now, Elly." She moaned loudly, and her hips pumped rapidly, demandingly. She sucked hard and her hand came up between my shaking thighs. Her fingertips grazed my balls, and I could hear and feel her gasp as my ass lurched, and she got my cream in her mouth. I came like a newly released convict. The stuff erupted out of me and when the first spurt splashed into the back of her throat, she started shaking all over. She sucked harder, almost frantically, and a second geyser flooded her mouth. She swallowed and dived her head down and back up halfway, working her throat and lips and tongue over my pulsing shaft, milking my dick and balls. I had the presence of mind -- barely -- to pinch her nipple sharply and her hips jerked sharply, rapidly, as she drank my cum and had an orgasm. When she got the last of my cum, she slowly relinquished my limpening dick by pulling her still-sucking mouth backward, her tongue all the time working wildly on my shaft and finally on my glans. When my shriveled dick finally popped out of her mouth, she used her tiny fingers to raise it. She lapped at my cock like a kitten getting the last of the milk from a saucer. When her tongue rasped over my glans, I almost screamed from the sensation; my dick was much too sensitive at that point. She flopped on her side with her cheek on my abdomen and her face toward me. Her hips still moved, but now languorously. I rested my hand on the side of her face and caressed her. "C'mere." She frowned. "Why?" I pulled her up to me and forced her to sprawl across me. Her breasts were crushed -- but not nearly flattened -- against my chest. I moved to kiss her, but she jerked her head away. "I've still got some of your stuff in my mouth!" I took her head in my hands and forced her face toward me. I kissed her as sweetly and gently as I could, on the eyes and nose and finally on the lips. She kept her mouth tightly closed for a moment. I pulled back. "I want to kiss you, Elly." She looked bewildered, but relented. Our tongues danced for a few moments. She was telling the truth; she still had some of my semen in her mouth. It didn't bother me in the least, but she seemed to get uncomfortable and I was beginning to have a suspicion of why. I let her back away from the kiss.She looked at me strangely for a moment, then: "Can I ask you a really personal question?" I grinned like a fool. "Gee, I'm not sure we know each other that well, Elly. A personal question? Gosh, I don't know. I mean, it's not like we've ever shared any intimate moments." "Is that your sarcastic way of saying I can ask?" "Exactly." "Are you bisexual?" I stared at her. She had honestly stunned me with that one. I just shook my head, numbly. Finally, I managed to ask: "Why?" "Well, you just came in my mouth and wanted to kiss me, and it's like you don't mind the taste of, uh -- " "Semen. The word is 'semen.' Or 'cum.' 'Jism' works. So does 'splooge'." "Well?" "It's not my favorite taste, but I don't mind it -- at least, not my own. I don't think I'd be so tolerant of another guy's semen." I ran my hands down her back and pulled her closer. "But, Elly, you don't seem to mind the taste; why should I?" "That's different." She said it as if it was something self-evident. "I'm a woman." "There's a difference." "I had big breasts when I was 13, and I'd already started to have my period." "And you were still a woman, then. Did you always like the taste of semen?" "Well, sure, it's okay. I guess." "Do you like it?" I put the emphasis on "like." "Not particularly," she said, "but I really don't mind it." "But you had an orgasm when I came in your mouth." Her eyes got suddenly heavy-lidded. "Oh, yeah, well, I really like feeling that in my mouth, all that stuff spurting so hot and thick, and feeling you moving and hearing you groan and knowing that I'm doing that to you, making you feel like that while you give me the cum right out of you, like you're feeding me and -- " She shivered, and I could feel her nipples hardening against my chest. Her legs had parted; her thighs were opened to either side of my left thigh, and she was slowly rubbing her mons up and down against my leg. Thinking and talking about sucking me off was turning her on. I had the brains to realize it wasn't me, in particular, but the mere idea.

Part 1

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11352.txt

E.Z. Riter

My Inheritance

"I have a message from Bert. Andy is to hear it with you," Mary said quietly in the unique voice of a trance, as she knelt in front of me. Andy sat down by me, but Lisa, who had never been present when a trance message was given, started to leave. I pulled her down by me, telling her to stay with us because she was very much a part of this family. She hugged me gratefully as she curled up against me. In a moment, Mary began. "Hello, son. It is me again. I knew you would get this message one day, but I had no idea of the timing. The only way it could be accessed is if either Mary or Andy or both were pregnant. You lucky guy! Remember what I said about telling my grandchildren about me. Davy, Mary has a secret, a secret only she and I knew. Because it made her very distraught, I programmed her not to remember it. When I began making plans to give her to you, I decided to reveal the secret. You will have to handle it, but it is better handled than left buried. Sorry. It is not something I could correct in my lifetime. Approximately ten seconds after this message is over, Mary will remember everything. Be prepared, Davy. Kiss the kittens on their sweet little pussies for me, son. I love all of you very much. Goodbye again." Mary was quiet and still as I counted off the seconds. None of us moved for what seemed an eternity. Her eyes opened, but they did not see us. She burst into tears as her hands flew to her face. "Oh, my God! My baby! My baby!" she screamed. Repeating "my baby, my baby," she sobbed and rocked back and forth, arms around her middle, tears flowing in rivers. She was hysterical. It frightened me. It frightened all of us. I had never seen Mary like this, out of control, her agony so severe it wrenched out her heart with every breath she took. When she realized Andy was beside her, she wrapped her arms around her tightly, digging her nails in. Andy was gasping for breath she was being held so tightly, her own face showing her fear and distress at her mother's desolation. "Oh, God! My baby, my baby!" She ignored any attempt to placate her. Immediately, I thought of programming her to stop, but something told me to let her cry out whatever demon was in her. I had no idea it would be almost twenty minutes of gut wrenching sorrow before she began to calm down. Have you ever seen a loved one with a devastating loss, an inconsolable sorrow? Remember how it hurts you to see them hurt so much? We were like that for Mary. I thought her sorrow must be about Andy and the baby, my baby Andy was carrying. All sorts of horrible thoughts crossed my mind: diseases, genetic abnormalities, anything you could imagine being wrong. Mary was spent, but her body was still wracked by sobs, when she finally released Andy and sat back, wobbling she was so exhausted. We all three had been crying with her. She was in such pain, seeing her was painful for us. Andy and Lisa had both been near hysteria themselves, but as Mary began to quieten, so did they. "Why didn't you program me not to hurt?" she said accusingly, her eyes red and swollen as she stared at me. "You needed to cry it out." "Please, promise me you will program me to make the pain go away," she pleaded. "If you want that, I will do it," I said, holding her for comfort. "But, what is it?" "Could I have some tea, please?" was her response. Resisting the urge to order her to tell me, I sent Lisa to make herbal tea. The tea helped soothe all of us, but I could stand it no longer. "Is something wrong with Andy's baby? My baby?" "Oh, no! It is nothing like that. Oh, God." Sobbing, she pulled Andy back into her arms which made Andy and Lisa start crying again. "Mary! Calm yourself and talk to us! Tell us what is wrong!" She nodded and took a series of deep breaths. Then, she began. "Andy, I told you your father was abusive. He was a cruel man, a very cruel man. When I became pregnant by him, he told me he was going to take you away from me and I would never see you again. He had abused me mentally and physically, so when he threatened me legally, I was very afraid of him." "Mother, I would never let that happen." "Honey, you were a fetus. You were not going to prevent anything. Oh, Andy, you do not know what it is like to be with a cruel man. It is absolute hell for a woman. You have only known Bert and Davy, both of whom are wonderful, dear, men. That is the reason Matt frightened me so much. He was cruel, like your father." Mary sipped at her tea, still restoring herself to equanimity. The rest of us were speechless. "Then, we found out something which changed everything. I was pregnant with twins. Twins, Andy. I made an agreement with your father when we determined both the babies were girls. I would keep the first born, name her Andrea and give her my surname. That is you. Andrea Mathews. He would take the second born and name her Angela. He would give her his surname. Anderson. Angela Anderson. She is your twin sister, borne eleven minutes after you." The room was deathly quiet, our collective breathing the only sound. We all were in shock! Andy had a twin sister, a sister none of us knew about until that moment. My mind was reeling. "I don't understand," Andy said mechanically. "Do you mean that you gave birth to two babies and I am one of them?" "Yes, honey. I gave birth to twins. You are one. Angela Anderson is the other." "Go ahead! Finish the story," I said. Andy looked at me with disbelief, not comprehending what she had heard. "Part of our arrangement was neither of us would ever try to contact the other's child. He has kept that bargain and so have I. I never saw her. I do not know if she is an identical or a fraternal twin. I do not even know if she is alive." Mary started to cry again and I held her to me. "Oh, Davy, Bert saw how much I was hurting. He offered to find her and bring her to me. He said he would program Donald to be a eunuch missionary in deepest Africa so he could not harm us, but I was still afraid. I was so terrified I would not let Bert help me. So, he programmed me not to remember." "Donald is my father?" Andy asked, still in shock over the news. "Yes, Andy. Donald Anderson. He was from Chicago. All I know about his family is he had an older sister who was married to a lawyer. Her name was Patricia." "You mean besides a father and sister, I have cousins?" "You might. Oh, Andy, let's not get our hopes up! I could not stand another disappointment like that. We don't even know if Angela is alive. If she is alive, she might not want to see us." Andy pounced on me with an intensity which equaled her mother's hysteria of minutes ago. She grabbed my shoulders and shook me as she spoke. "Find her! Find her now, Davy! You must do it!" "I will, sweetheart. I will." "No. I mean now! Get up and do it now!" "Andy. Settle down." "Damn you! Now!" she screamed as she hit my chest with her fist. While, as you know, I love Andy with all my heart and would do anything for her, I had enough female hysteria for the moment. Her hysteria was not helping address the problem, in any event. "Kitten Andy. Programming adjustment. You will be calm about your sister. You will not worry about finding her, trusting me to handle the situation. Kitten Andy. Programming terminated." Andy wobbled and fell against me, wrapping her arms around me for support. I held her until she pushed back to look up at me. "It is wonderful you will handle this for us so I don't have to worry about it. Thank you, Davy. I know you will do what is right." It was said sweetly and lovingly. There was not an ounce of tension or anxiety in her voice or body.She brought her lips to mine in a gentle kiss. "Program me the same way, please, Davy," Mary said softly. "Me, too," Lisa added. One of the disadvantages of being the tom cat instead of the kitten is no one programmed me to relax while someone else worried about it. Once again, I silently thanked Uncle Bert for having Andy program me to think deeply, clearly, and calmly, which she did that first day I met her. After programming Mary and Lisa, I took some deep breaths and concentrated on the problem. By dinner, my attorney in Denver had located a private investigator in Chicago. When I talked to him, I offered double his regular rate, and he started immediately. Our whole world had changed. Suddenly, there was a new woman in our lives. This would not be a kitten I could fuck and forget, not unless I reprogrammed Mary, Andy, and Lisa to forget what they had only just learned. While the idea of another Andy was tremendously appealing, another kitten in the household did change our relational equilibrium. I lay awake in bed that night, Andy to my left, Mary to my right, with Lisa to her right. I felt Andy's hand steal across my chest. "I can't sleep," she whispered. "Me either. Let's get up." As we tried to slip out of bed, Mary and Lisa announced they were still awake. Soon, all four of us were in the living room with a large bowl of popcorn between us, talking about what was happening. The programming to be calm and let me worry about finding Angela, the natural sweet happiness of my kittens, the knowledge a detective was at work, and the passage of some time, had restored us all to the positive well-being we normally enjoyed. Once again, we laughed together. By now you know, the laughter we shared is as important, or more important, than the sex we shared. Laughter is the music of love. Of course, as always, Andy was an imp. "You know, sweetheart. I am a twin. You have twin sisters. I could be carrying twins right now, and we would not know it yet," Andy said, stuffing popcorn in her mouth. "And, Mom gave birth to twins, so when she gets pregnant, they could be another set of twins. Then, if Angela gets pregnant by you, well. Think, Davy. Three sets of twins at one time. Lisa's baby would make seven, or eight, if she has twins. Eight newborns. What about that?" Suddenly, I was horrified that all of them were unprotected and liable to get pregnant. I never thought about eight babies at once. Andy laughed at my expression and patted my cheek with a soft hand greasy with popcorn butter. "I wonder what she is like?" Mary said half to herself. We all wondered that, and the conversation quickly became speculation about Angela. Think about it! Was Angela an identical twin? Or, a fraternal twin, looking no more like Andy than any sister born at a separate time? Was I going to find a new Andy or someone entirely different? Was she married or engaged or what? What would be the differences between Andy and Angie? What impact had living with her father had on her? The happy mood of the evening was contagious. Soon, we all were giggling. And, when we giggle, we touch. Then, Andy started talking about her own pregnancy again. She bit off the end of the pickle she was eating and sat up, cupping her breasts in her hands and staring down at them. "Mom, did your boobs grow when you had me? I mean, had us?" "Yes. They were gigantic. You know, Andy, you have to dispose of all that milk regularly. One baby probably cannot take it all." "Oh, I bet I know someone who will help with that," she said, leering at me. She leaned over to dangle a nipple in my face. "Want to practice suckling my tits?" she asked, pushing her nipple against my mouth. I wanted to, and I did. She moaned and pushed her breast harder against me. "Mom? Is he doing it right?" Andy asked breathlessly. "What do you mean?" "I mean, I am getting horny from this. Does that happen?" "Not with all women. It did with me. I wanted to be fucked after most feedings." "I thought maybe the way he was sucking might make me horny but not make my milk flow." "There is a right way and a wrong way to do it. He would have to suckle my breast for me to be sure." "Well, let him," Andy retorted. Mary moved to let her breast dangle over my mouth. I suckled. Then, Lisa wanted to know what it felt like. So, we ended the evening with me suckling breasts, "just for practice" as Andy said. No, we really ended in the bedroom as we always did, but you guessed that, didn't you? I wondered if there was a way to keep one or all of them in milk forever. I have heard mother's milk is very healthy. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine Andy's D-cup breasts twice as big, with so much heavy and rich milk it oozed from her nipple. I fantasized her leaning over me, her huge breast dangling above my face, as I leisurely sucked. She was moaning in sexual need as her sweet, hot milk flowed into me. Ummm. Nice fantasy. I was looking forward to making it a reality. It took a week for the PI report to come in. When he called about nine in the morning, I immediately called Mary at the store. She made me promise not to say anything to the others until she got home. When she arrived, the four of us sat at the kitchen table as I gave them the report. "Donald Anderson died four years ago. He was married once. His wife died in childbirth leaving him a baby girl to raise ("Bastard," Mary muttered). Angela Anderson, his only child ('I am his child', Andy interrupted) lives with Patricia Anderson Caldwell, Donald's sister, and George Caldwell, her husband, in Grosse Pointe, Michigan. George Caldwell is an attorney. His wife, Angela's aunt, is Angela's legal guardian. Angela has just completed her freshman year at the University of Michigan. The Caldwells have two natural children, Elizabeth, who is nineteen, and George, Jr., twenty-one. Both are students at Michigan. No picture or description of Angela was given." "What now, Davy?" Mary asked. "I could not get a charter on such short notice, but I made reservations on a commercial flight. Go pack." On the way to the plane, I adjusted their programming to allow them to enjoy the excitement of finding Angela, even if it meant they were harder to handle. Is that love, or stupidity, or what? Whatever it was, it was greatly appreciated by all three of them. I never lose when they are grateful. Believe me. We flew first class, the four of us occupying the first row. After the seatbelt sign was extinguished, they huddled on one side, gossiping and giggling. The three of them chattered like birds all the way there. I tried to nap, but I could hear them. Does she look like me? Is her hair long? Is she sweet? Pregnant? Married? Smart? On and on, questions never ceasing. By now, they had thought of every possible question about her, but they liked to discuss them over and over. The flight arrived at Wayne County Airport, which serves the greater Detroit area, about five. We rented a Cadillac and drove the interstate past downtown Detroit into The Pointes. The Caldwells lived in a lovely home near Lake St. Claire. It was six thirty when I rang their bell. A tall, distinguished-looking man with graying hair answered. He was wearing a white shirt, tie, and suit pants, indicating he had not changed since he came home from the office. His eyes scanned us, stopping when he came to Andy. "What is the matter, Angie? Forget your key?" he said. All three of my kittens gasped at George's misidentification. His color paled. His eyes scanned us again, slower and harder this time, stopping a long time to study Mary. Then, he focused on Andy again. "You are not Angie, are you?" "No, sir. I am Andy, her twin sister. May I call you Uncle George?" The man looked as shocked as we had been when we first heard the news. It seemed an hour, but, actually, he recovered fairly quickly, and a warm smile covered his face. "Yes, Andy, you can. You better come in," he said as he opened the screen door for us. He hugged each of the women as they entered, holding on to Andy a long time, which I presumed was an uncle's love and not because her delicious body was pressed hard against him. Excusing himself, he asked us to wait. As we stood in the living room, the three kittens were holding hands, excited and anxious expressions on their faces. I told myself to be calm. In a moment, George returned with a tall, thin, and elegant woman whom he introduced as Patty, his wife. Without speaking, she stared open-mouthed at Andy. Tears forming in her eyes, she took Andy in her arms and hugged her. For the next hour or so, we talked to George and Patty. It was clear they were two kind, decent people who loved Angela and had her best interests at heart. They were as surprised to find Angie had a sister and a mother as we were to find out about Angie. "Don told us Angie's mother died giving birth," Patty said during the conversation. "Obviously, that is not true." "No. It is not," Mary replied. She told them of the arrangement to separate the girls. And, she told Patty of her brother's cruelty. Patty looked very pained. "I knew my brother had a mean streak, but I never guessed he would do something like this. Mary, I am so sorry." Patty was being sincere. It seemed nature had played a mean trick on the Anderson children, giving Patty most of the good and Donald most of the bad. That happens sometimes. Finally, Patty asked. "What do you want of Angela?" "I want her to come live with me, with us, I mean," Mary replied. "I want my daughter." "Let me ask a question, if I may?" George said, in his best lawyer's tone. His face turned a bit red. "I am not criticizing, you understand.You are lovely people, but your lifestyle. We are conservative sociologically, and I see... None of us helped him out. We waited for him. "I see three very sensual women," he said. "George!" Patty interjected. "They are, Patty. I see three very sensual women who live with one man. Those women have identical necklaces with kitten charms, and rings on their thumbs. We only want the best for Angie. I mean, could you tell us, well, how she would benefit from being with you?" "Look at us! Don't we look unbelievably happy? Don't we look healthy and well-loved and cared for? Don't we appear to be a wonderful, tight-knit family?" "You do, Lisa. By the way, exactly how do you fit in?" "She is my sister," Andy said defiantly, holding Lisa's hand. "Your child, Mary?" "No. But she and Andy are just like sisters. Lisa will be a sister to Angie, too." "And you?" George said, looking at me. "I am not Andy's sister," I replied flippantly. He gave me a dirty look. "Look! We have a legal responsibility to Angie. And we love her as if she were our own." How was I to answer the question? I could program them to not worry about Angie or to forget she even existed. I was ready to do just that, but an idea struck me. Guessing from George's age that he would remember the communes which were popular a while back, I gave him this answer. "We are a commune, except we bathe and cut our hair," I said with a smile. I was not sure they were going to like that answer, but George grinned for a moment before continuing. "I remember the communes. Free sex and all that. I do not think Angie would like that kind of arrangement." "Oh, we don't have free sex. Davy is the only man who fucks us," Andy said with a bounce in her voice. Then, she blushed and squirmed in her seat. "She probably will not want to go," George continued. "She is very happy here. She has made many friends. And, never forget, she will be very shocked, and quite possibly hurt, by the existence of a mother and a twin sister." Andy's face fell. A tear rolled down her cheek as she pleaded with him. "Please, Uncle George! Let me talk to her!" I could see George relent a little. Andy gave him that sick puppy look and batted those big, blue eyes at him. All you men know that look. And, all you women use it whenever you think it will help. "Uncle George, when can I meet my sister?" she said in a plaintive tone. George lovingly stroked her head. "They called this afternoon. Angie and my son and daughter are driving in from Mackinaw Island. They should be here in another hour or so." "Can we wait?" "Let us talk to her when she gets in. She needs some time with this, Andy. She will be horribly shocked. Why don't you come back for breakfast? Say, nine in the morning?" George could not be persuaded to let us stay to meet Angie. I grudgingly admired how he maintained his resolve in the face of three pleading and very determined women who used every female trick to break him down. I finally had to order the three of them to leave, which they did with tears and grumbling. We drove down Jefferson Street and checked into the Westin Hotel in the Renaissance Center, taking a two-room suite with a king-sized bed. We ordered seafood salads with pie for dessert from room service. The four of us talked for hours, letting our excitement run down in the process. Our speculation on what Angela was like had been modified since we now knew she looked exactly like Andy. George had mistaken Andy for Angie when we first arrived. But the repetitive speculation continued. "The important question," I said, "is whether she will want to go back to Colorado with us." "How much formula do you have with you?" Andy asked. "Enough for five people." "If we have to program everyone in the family, she is coming home with us." Andy's strident voice and determined jaw faded. She looked a little embarrassed as she crawled into my lap and pressed herself against me. "Am I being too pushy?" "No. You are not." "You know how much I love you. You know I would walk away now and never mention her again if you wanted me to, even without you changing my programming." "Yes, Andy. I know." She smiled very lovingly at me. Her eyes were soft and wet. Then, she got that gleam in her eye, the one saying she had the winning hand and knows it. "I know you love me, love the three of us, so much you will make sure she comes with us whether she wants to or not. And, I know you will not program us to forget her." "Yes, Andy, my precious kitten. I love all of you that much." She kissed me, softly at first, but with increasing ardor. "If you love us that much, why don't you take us to bed and prove it." To be continued...

50 - Bert's Last Message

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/13681.txt

Hawk Richards

"Dream A Little Dream"

"It was just a dream. Go back to sleep, ok?" I buried my head into the pillow, ignoring her babbling chatter about crazy nightmares. "Carl, are you listening?" she asked. I tried to fake being asleep, but she just nudged me even harder, jamming her cold fingers into my ribs, until I gave up any hope for sleep. "It was so vivid!" she said. "It was like a huge vortex of colors, you know, like a TV in my head." "What was?" I groaned as I tried to act interested. "The dream." "What was it about?" I asked. "You were in it," she said. "Okay, so what was it about?" I asked, getting tired of playing twenty questions. "I can't really remember." She licked her lips and embraced me. "It was kinda sexual, though." The mood was catchy and I found myself aroused. I felt the soft swell of her breasts against my bare chest. My face was buried in her long red hair, the smell of her consumed me and I fought the urge to ravage her. "You wanna do it?" she asked. "Uh, okay," I said. As usual, I was confused by her strange behavior. It was only hours earlier that she had fought off my attempts at romance, feigning a headache. Sometimes, I think I know her. Then, she throws me for a loop. I think women do that just to keep us men from truly understanding them. It's like a rule or something. "Are you sleepy?" she asked as she stroked my chest gingerly with her fingertips and played with my chest hair. "I mean, I don't want to keep you 'up' or anything." She grasped my crotch in her loving hand. "Not anymore." "Are you hungry? We could have a midnight snack or something." "Not really," I said, noticing that it was well past midnight already. "Have you ever had a dream that was so intense that you...?" she asked. "That I what?" I asked in total confusion. I was perplexed. Even when I was totally awake, she could perplex me like no other person could with her vague questions and silly conversations, but maybe that was why I loved her. Even after two years, she was still a mystery to me on some levels. I like mysteries, and I love being a good sleuth, especially a sexual sleuth. I like to find out what excites her, what tantalizes her, and most of all what she needs, desires, and wants from me in the bedroom. And, I don't think she has ever really complained. "You know --" she said. "Oh," I said, as I finally realized what she meant. "Yes, when I was younger I used to have wet dreams, why?" "I think I had one," she said. "How could you have had a wet dream?" I asked. Remember that I wasn't quite awake yet, so my brain was really slow to realize what she meant. "Women can have an orgasm while they dream silly! We don't always need a man -- duh!" she said. "Actually, if it wasn't for the fact that you had that silly thing between your legs, we wouldn't need you at all." She emphasized her words by cupping her own breasts, stroking the fabric of her negligee around her stiffened nipples that poked enticingly through the thin garment. I had never really witnessed a woman masturbating -- except maybe in a movie. I just sat there with my jaw gaping, my heart pounding and my loins straining the front of my boxers. "Actually, I don't need you at all," she said. This kinda shocked me a bit. Actually, I had never really thought about it before, but of course, she didn't need me -- men in general -- to have a "good time." It made complete sense, although, like any man I was self-centered, so I tended to think of myself as Mr. Orgasm Maker. "You don't need me at all, eh?" I asked in disbelief. "Nope." She grinned mischievously as she ran her hands, up and down, her thighs, parting her legs as she ran her slender fingers over her glistening mound, softly rubbing the soft curly hair above her coral nether lips. "I see, well then I guess that I am replaceable?" I asked. "Hmm, no you're not replaceable, but you aren't needed." I watched in awe as her fingers found her clitoris and she circled it, rubbed the tiny nubbin, and groaned a sexy moan with passion. Her middle finger slid between the soft folds, and dipped into her. I watched as the finger disappeared like a tiny cock as it went in and out. I could see the excitement in her movements and her need to climax. "Oh, I see," I said, pouting in a playful puppy dog manner that gets her every time. "Aww, my poor baby," she giggled and playfully extended her shiny finger to my lips. I could smell her musky scent, strong and feminine, as I kissed her hand. I sucked upon her finger, nibbling gently. She gave up on her masturbatory explorations and straddled me. She lifted her negligee off and presented me with two warm handfuls of soft, pillowy flesh. Each one was topped with a crinkled nipple of larger than average size. I suckled on one, while I cupped the other in my palm, kneading the dangling breast that jiggled and bounced with each movement. "You know, I don't really need a man to do this," she said. "Yes, but how about this," I said as I positioned my erect member at the entrance to her wetness. "Mmm, I dunno, I think they make replicas of those, don't they?" "Yes, but they don't have the same skills." "Why don't you prove it?" she replied. She engulfed the entire shaft within her wet slit, and proceeded to grind her hips in rhythm with my upward thrusting. "Not bad," she said with a grin. "Not bad? Not bad?" I asked. We both started giggling, which caused the most exquisite sensations. Her breasts heaved with each breath, and a serious look came over her face. I had always loved the face she makes when she is just about to come. First her nose crinkles, and her eyes glaze over with pleasure, then she contorts her mouth into this pleasurable grimace. I wasn't that far from the point of no return, myself. "Oh god," she moaned. I held her tight, bucking my hips up into her as we came simultaneously. We were one animal moving together as our bodies gyrated, up and down, in orgasmic frenzy. "Now, what were you saying about not needing me?" "Well, you have your uses, I guess," she said. "Could you get me a glass of water?"

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/9691.txt

Godot

The Straying Wife

"Why? What happens at these... things?" Kim couldn't resist the question. The thought of watching people do what they would ordinarily do in privacy, in bed, in a whorehouse, was too thrilling to resist. She shifted again on the chair, feeling the tight crotchband of her panties bite into the wet, swollen lips of her cunt. She crossed her legs tight, feeling the band bite deeper, feeling her excited clitoris grow oiled with her own heat and slip out of the band. By rocking back and forth, pretending to listen to Klaus explain above the music, she was able to rub her clitoris back and forth against the band, exciting her so that her face was flushed and the nipples of her breasts hardened, shrinking into tightly erect points. Klaus was telling her about one he had attended some time ago, and she was imagining herself standing nakedly in front of a group, showing them her proud body and its scratches and bruises. She clenched her fists to keep from shuddering. "Naturally, orgies are hard to find because they are secret. They take precautions and this is a lucky break." "How do you know this is... genuine? The real thing?" Kim asked. Klaus smiled politely. "You saw that girl dance. And she says that the price is seventy-five per person. That follows my experience and lends credence." "S... seventy-five dollars?" Klaus nodded. "Believe me, you get your money's worth." Nichole tapped Klaus on the knee, getting his attention. "Don't embarrass my friend. She doesn't have to go if she doesn't want to." "Yeah," Ernie added, "now's the time to take the party-poopers home." "Ernie!" Nichole protested. "Don't talk that way." "Why not? Hell, we're all tip-toeing around afraid of Miss What's-Her-Name here. Hell, let her go home. I wouldn't miss this orgy for anything." Klaus looked at Kim and shrugged. "Rude as he is, I'm afraid I agree with him. I'm going to go. I'll be happy to take you back to the apartment." "Well, I think you both are being rotten to Kim!" Nichole said. "Oh?" Ernie leered. "I suppose you're not going?" Nichole looked right in his face. "I wouldn't miss it for all the money in California, and you know how much I love money, honey. Don't you worry about old Nichole. I'll be right there in the front row. And you two will be with me. No, that isn't it. What frosts me about you two is the way you assume Kim won't go. Hell, you haven't even asked her if she wanted to go!" Again, they all looked at the embarrassed red-haired housewife who tried to look cool and poised. Nichole was the first to speak. "Do you want to go? If you don't, we understand. We'll drop you at my apartment." Kim's mouth was dry. Her fingers trembled. Her drugged young body was a mass of swirling emotions and conflicting feelings. She couldn't help thinking of Hank and remembering her near-rape. Going to an orgy would be daring and wicked and something she would never forget. "W... would I... would... w... we... would we have to do anything but watch? I mean..." She licked her lips and tried to hide her excitement and fear. "No, this girl says they have arrangements where one can watch in private." "T... the money..." Kim began. Klaus waved her problem away. "I would be delighted." Before she realized it, the hashish playing tricks with her sense of time, they were threading their way through the tables with Kim looking back and thinking, "My God, I never even looked at the other dancer!" Yet, as they crowded into a cab and she felt Klaus pressing his whole leg against hers, she felt a thrill and giggled. All of them seemed to have their adrenaline running high now. They were conspirators and they shared a secret: they were going to do something illegal. More than that, they were going to do something immoral, sinful, lustful! They were going to watch an orgy! To her surprise, Kim found that the address was on Russian Hill instead of some grimy tenement in the Haight. A doorman in regal livery politely asked them to stand in front of a television camera as he punched the floor and apartment number Nichole gave him. Nichole smiled at the camera. A voice came through a chrome-faced speaker. "Yes?" "Mr. Burdick?" Nichole asked as she had been instructed. "Which Mr. Burdick?" the query came cautiously. "The one from Sharon, New York, who smokes Chesterfields." There was a click, then a voice asked, "How many?" "Four." Another click and, "Let them in, Albert." The doorman showed them into a tastefully decorated lobby that smacked of wealth. Kim seemed to stumble and float like a weightless leaf on water. The apartment itself was large, a duplex, and was tastefully decorated. Modern abstract paintings hung from the walls, setting off rooms with blacks and slashes of vivid color. The furniture was modern and elegant. It reminded Kim of apartments she had seen in fashion magazines. Cool, quiet jazz came from speakers that were all through the apartment, and the lights were on a rheostat that someone was manipulating, lowering the lights just as Kim and Nichole came in with their escorts. A sleek, chic girl in a clinging dress greeted them and showed them to the largest room of the apartment. Here, it seemed, was the orgy. Here everyone was gathered, waiting, talking, murmuring against the music, excited, anticipating the great event. Their young guide showed them to a couch along one wall where they could sit. The center of the room was cleared of furniture, and mattresses had been laid out on a platform that was about waist high. Couches and chairs were strung out around the platform on all sides. Kim and her friends were in the very back row with only a wall behind them. "I thought this was to be private," Kim whispered. The girl overheard and smiled at her. "We have rooms you can watch it from on closed-circuit television or a two-way mirror," the girl smiled coolly at Kim. "Only two people to a room." Kim shook her head. She didn't want to get separated from her friends; safety in numbers, she thought, looking around. The four of them sat against the wall and watched the room filling up with people. Kim stiffened. A young girl with large breasts was coming toward them. The girl was naked! No, worse than being naked, she was only wearing black boots and a flimsy, blood-red G-string. The tiny G-string didn't really cover much; it only seemed to draw attention to her vaginal crevice, that fleshy gully up between her legs. Her breasts were huge and jutted out and shook and quivered when she walked. She came with her hands on her hips and stood in front of them. "Coffee, tea, or me?" she asked. "You!" Ernie thundered. "Thanks. Later. No, really, I'm supposed to ask you if you'd like some champagne or grass?" "Both," Klaus said. "Bring us a bottle and whatever you have to smoke." The girl turned and sauntered off with Kim watching her ripe, naked buttocks rise and fall with every step. It was all too lewd and casual and exciting for her to believe. She found she couldn't say anything as the girl came back with an ice bucket with a bottle of champagne in it and bent over, her breasts hanging and seeming to swell, as she put some thin brown cigarettes on an ashtray on the coffee table in front of them. The girl grinned brazenly at Ernie. "You can give me my tip later." They all laughed, and Ernie poured the wine while Klaus lit up one of the cigarettes and passed it around. Kim accepted a glass of champagne gratefully. Her mouth was dry, and she needed something to quench her thirst. She gulped the drink and found it tickling her nose with its wondrous carbonation. She took the offered cigarette and smelled the thick, sweet odor of it... then inhaled. And the room grew dark except for baby spots that were trained on the mattresses on the platform in the center of the room. The pungent sweetness of marijuana and hashish smoke hung heavily in the air. Kim saw everything through a screen, a haze. She could see the burning tips of the cigarettes in the darkness. The room grew quiet as the music was turned low; soon only the sound of an occasional inhalation and exhalation could be heard. It all looked chic and exciting to Kim. Another glass of champagne was put into her hand by Klaus. She had drunk the first one without a thought. It didn't matter, the cool liquid going down her hot dry throat felt good. It was nice to have Klaus looking after her, she mused as she sipped. A murmur of excitement swept through the room, and in the soft, velvety darkness, Kim could see a figure moving toward the platform.The girl with the black boots and red G-string got up on the platform and stood in the light. The spotlights made her nakedly gleaming flesh seem all the more white, and her breasts stood out full, rich, and heavy. She took her G-string off while smiling and talking to the people nearest the platform. She stepped out of the G-string and stood legs apart, hands on her hips, her pinkly glistening vaginal lips clearly visible in the light. She twirled the G-string in one hand and let it fly out into the darkness and the audience.

6

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/15172.txt

Suki

The Interview

"Very good indeed," the woman repeated, "now let's test how good you are at switching roles. Are you up for one more test?" Jennifer knew that even the question was part of the interviewee's test, and replied that she would be happy to 'take another call'. "Jennifer, this is the operator. We have a gentleman on the line who has asked that you not have his name. Will you take the call?" A challenge, Jennifer thought. "Yes," she answered. Again, a moment's pause, as if the line was truly being switched. Jennifer lowered her voice a little, trying to make her greeting sound like a purr. "My name is Jennifer," she said to the silent receiver, racking her brain on what to say. "I'm here just for you. Anything you wish. What would you like, honey?" Silence. "Well, let me describe what I'm doing right now. I'm laying on my couch, completely naked, running my fingers over my body. My skin feels soft and smooth to my hands, and I like caressing myself." "My breasts are so sensitive, and just touching them sends shocks of pleasure down my body. I'm licking my finger now, and rubbing it over my nipples. The wetness is making them peak, and they feel so incredibly good." "Would you like me to bring myself to orgasm? For you? Just for you?""I'd love to masturbate for you," she purred. As she expected, she received no answer. Still silence. She continued on. "Now I have one hand on my breast and I'm rubbing my clit with the other. It feels so good, but I want both my hands in my lower regions. I like to enter myself. First with one finger, then two...oh...yes, it feels so good. My other hand is on my clit... The rubbing feels so good..." She moaned, getting louder between words. "Oh, it feels so good... When I close my eyes, I can almost feel you inside of me... Pumping in and out... Like my fingers. You feel so good." Her breath was coming in gasps as she rubbed herself toward orgasm. "...Oh...I can feel you inside of me...so deep...oh..." she screamed as she went over the edge of orgasm. Silence. Then "you're hired," the woman on the end of the line broke in, "when can you start?" Chapter 3: Jennifer's First Call The phone rang in the quiet apartment, and Jennifer sat up in bed and put her book on the night stand. "Hello?" she answered. "Jennifer?" a voice asked. "Yes, this is she." "Jennifer, this is the operator. I have a woman on the phone. Her name is Julie. She wants to speak to a lesbian or bisexual woman. Will you take the call?" "Yes," Jennifer answered, "Put it through." "Hello?" a timid female voice on the other end of the line. "Hello Julie?" Jennifer said gently, "My name is Jennifer. I'd like to get to know you better. Can you tell me what you want?" There was brief silence on the line. Jennifer sensed the hesitance came from embarrassment. This was confirmed by the tone of her voice when Julie finally started speaking. "I've never done this before," she almost whispered, "but I've always been interested in women and this seemed safe...." her voice trailed off. Jennifer laughed softly. "I understand Julie... There was a time when I was like that too. But now I've been with a number of women, and it is wonderful." "Oh, tell me," Julie nearly begged. "When I am with a woman Julie, I like to start slowly. Feel their body against mine... feeling her skin, and its softness. Kissing a woman is wonderful, soft... different from kissing a man... indescribable. Then I move down and try to cover all the sensitive places on her body. Breathing softly in her ear, kissing and biting gently on her neck, down her collarline, and then to her breasts." Jennifer could hear the breathing on the other line. Julie was breathing fast... encouraged, Jennifer continued. "A woman's breasts are so beautiful. I like to use my hands and mouth and kiss and suck on her nipples, biting softly and then harder, listening to her moan in pleasure." A moan came over the phone, from the other end of the line. "Pretend it's you, Julie. My hands are on your breasts, and my mouth on your nipples. Now I'm moving downwards, kissing my way down your stomach, and just short of your clit. My tongue reaches out, just touching your clit lightly. I can feel you jump." Julie moaned on the line, and Jennifer could hear the faint sounds of her masturbating. "My tongue is moving around your clit. And then down further, pushing inside of you just a little, and then backing out again. And back to your clit, moving faster and faster... And I can taste your come. You taste so good. Oh Julie, you are so beautiful." The sounds on the receiver told her that Julie was having an orgasm, and she corresponded her comments with the sounds of her orgasm. She waited, while Julie's panting breaths became more normal. "Thank you Julie," Jennifer smiled in her voice "you truly are beautiful." Chapter 4 Jennifer's Calls "Put it through," Jennifer answered the operator. *click* "I am Mistress Jennifer," she began, assuming a firm, strong voice. "I believe you asked for permission to speak to me?" "Yes, Mistress Jennifer." He sounded young, possibly in late 20's, early 30's. Older than her but young by her standards, however there was no need for him to know that. "Well?" she demanded, "What is it that you want?" "Please Mistress," he pleaded, "I wish only to serve you. To fulfill your desires. To worship you as my Mistress, if you will allow this worthless slave." "And get something out of it for yourself in return," she stated shrewdly. 'Humiliation'-- she made a mental note to herself. "Are you already hard?" she asked, still keeping her tone sharp and demanding. "Yes, My Lady," he whispered, as if fearing yet craving her wrath. "And were you given permission?" she asked, knowing full well it was a rhetorical question. "No" his voice barely audible. "No, Mistress!" she sharply corrected him. "No, Mistress." "Where are your hands?" she requested. "One is holding the receiver, and the other is on my thigh, Mistress" "Good." Be careful not to give him too much praise. She continued, "I want you to put one hand on your penis. Begin stroking it slowly. But you are NOT to cum. If you feel that you need to cum tell me, and I will decide when you will be given permission. Understand?" "Yes....Mistress," he answered, a slight hesitation in his voice. "Yes Slave?" she prompted, picking up on the hesitation immediately. "What is it?" "I have ice next to me, My Lady," he volunteered. "How handy," she purred. "Ok Slave, cradle the receiver between your shoulder and neck, so that both of your hands are free. With the one hand, continue stroking yourself. And with the other, I want you to press an ice cube to your balls. And hold it there until I say." She heard his breathing becoming more ragged, and decided to persist with the ice he had offered. "Now," she continued, "move the ice cube up to rub your nipples, first one, and then the other. SLOWLY. Then bring it back down to your balls, running all over them." His gasping was audible now, and she could tell he was getting close to orgasm. "Mistress," he gasped out "Mistress please, might I be allowed to cum? I'm so close...." "Not quite yet," she answered. "I want you to switch hands. Use the one that has been holding the ice to stroke yourself, and with the other pinch your nipples. HARD!" He moaned into the phone, fighting for control. "You may cum, slave." And with permission given, she heard an immediate groan over the phone line. "Thank you, Mistress Jennifer," he gasped, still catching his breath. She put down the receiver.

Chapter 2

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/12518.txt

dimitri

(Dimitri)"Celebrity Hypnotist Chapter 6"

"What type were they?" Bart interrupted once more. "Geez!" I cried out, "You want to hear this story or not?" To tell the truth, I had been beginning to enjoy telling this story, and Heather Locklear had been a highlight of my career that I hadn't thought about in some time. "Come on, man, it's the little things that are important. What kind of panties did she have?" "Plain white, very sensible," I replied. Bart looked disappointed. "They weren't like, frilly or something?" "No," I said with a grin, "I'd remember anything like that." "Damn... I mean, she was married to Tommy Lee and that fucker's into some heavy shit..." - You don't know the half of it, - I thought. At this point, Tommy was still 'happily' married to Pamela Anderson, - If my information is right, he'll end up in jail before the year is out. - "...and now she's married to Richie Sambora," he gave a little sigh, "Damn, figured she'd at least wear a thong." "You're not going to go kill yourself over this, are you?" I joked to him, "Or would you like to hear the story first?" He smiled at me, and my mind cried out in triumph. I was actually convincing the son of a bitch I was his friend. "Sorry, buddy," he said, "Go ahead." ...she gripped her panties and slowly, casting what looked to be a sly, almost expectant look my way, she pulled the sopping material down over her hips and revealed to me a closely trimmed thatch of pussy hair. "Very nice," I commented as she stepped free of the soaking wet material and stood before me, her beautiful, long white legs presented for my inspection, for my approval? They certainly passed muster. As she began to lower herself down to the ground, getting ready to spread her legs and let me fuck her, I gave her yet another surprise. "Not so fast," I said, "You did that so well you've whetted my appetite for more... let's see those tits of yours." I saw her face turn red, but suspected that she was secretly pleased, that this was turning her on as much as it was turning me on. Getting back to her feet, and flashing the pink pleasure of her inner pussylips as she did so, she slowly slid the gray jacket off and carelessly let it fall to the ground, where it lay in a crumpled pile. It was soon joined by the tie and then her shirt, which she unbuttoned slowly, letting me get only glimpses of the white material of her bra before sliding it down over her back and down to her elbows, then letting it drop. Her breasts weren't as large as some of her co-stars on Melrose, but they were certainly more than a handful and looked pleasantly plump. Reaching behind her back, she gripped the clasp of her bra and released it, unfettering her breasts and letting them free. There was a slight sag to them, but they still held up high on her chest, and they certainly appeared to be real. "Like what you see?" she asked with a slight grin. "Why Ms. Woodward," I remarked, "If I didn't know better I'd say you were enjoying this." She smiled slyly, "Well Ro... Mr Delgado, I love sex, I always have... but usually I run things. However, I can handle being taken along for a ride, there's no reason I can't enjoy this." "Why Amanda," I laughed, standing up and approaching her, my now slightly less hard cock bobbing up eagerly when it saw her naked body, "I must say you have the right attitude, you'll go far." Sliding one hand around her neck and the other around her waist, I pulled her forward and kissed her. Her mouth opened, and before I had a chance to get my tongue into her, she was exploring my mouth, her tongue sliding over mine and against my cheeks. - Well, well, Amanda wants to take control, - I thought, and pushed my own tongue past hers and into her mouth. As I did that, I slid the arm around her waist down over one of her beautiful, firm asscheeks and cupped it, giving it a good squeeze. Breaking the kiss, I began to kiss down her neck, nuzzling her shoulder before kissing down the curve of her breasts and taking one of her erect nipples into my mouth. For a few seconds, I sucked on that magnificent mammary, then I broke away and stood up, facing her. Her body was glistening with a light sheen of sweat, and she was breathing heavily. Her arms were at her sides, but were twitching about; she wanted to slide her hand between her legs, but was obviously scared to show any sign of weakness. "Happy to be taken for a ride my ass!" I thought, well, she was going to be whether she wanted to be in the driver's seat or not. I came forward quickly and grabbed her by the waist, pushing her back until she came up against the wall - not hard, I'm not an animal, unlike that freak Gary Cole (*) I didn't get off on hurting women - my arms slid down and gripped the inside of her thighs, then lifted them up until she was almost doing the splits. My cock was pressed up against her belly for a few seconds as I got my balance, then I slid my hips back, then pushed them against her hot, wet and steaming pussy. She let out a cry that was half pleasure, half anger at not being the one in charge, then gave in to the sensations and just enjoyed the fuck. I was extremely relieved to feel that her pussy was not only not loose, but actually extremely tight. I found myself wondering if maybe she'd had one of those operations where women got their boxes tightened up (like that chick in The Godfather, the one who'd only been able to fuck guys with monster dicks, like Sonny Corleone), I didn't see any other way that she could possibly have a cunt this tight... still, I was definitely not complaining. After the initial penetration, I just let myself digest and sort out all the sensations and emotions running through my body for a second, then began to slowly pull my cock back out of her tightly clasping pussy. I got to the point where it seemed I would pull free of her beautiful cuntlips, then I plunged back in, letting out a moan of pleasure as I felt her magnificent cuntlips giving way before my shaft. I began to slide my cock in and out of her tight, gushing pussy even faster, pumping at the star with all my might, letting her have it. Each thrust pushed her back against the wall, and her face was contorted in pleasure and desire, her blond hair hanging over her face, her eyes closed as she let out moans and grunts of desire as I fucked her harder and harder, faster and faster. "Yes!" she squealed, "Huh! Uh! Yes! Give it to me! Yes!" she squealed, giving in and letting me take control, her body bounced loosely as I fucked her, my cock slamming to the hilt deep inside of her cunt. Her tits were bouncing up and down in front of my face, and with some effort I was able to catch one in my mouth and began sucking on her erect nipple as I continued fucking the star of Melrose Place for all she was worth. She squealed in excitement as I fucked her again and again, her tight cunt gripping eagerly around my swollen shaft.I was pumping into the woman who had revitalized Melrose Place with everything I had, fucking her tight pussy as I sucked on her tits and pounded her against the wall again and again with every thrust of my cock deep into her cunt. To keep her off-balance and remind her I was in control, I suddenly pulled her from the wall, my hands sliding under her thighs and cupping her asscheek, I turned her about and carried her over to the long, wooden table. I lowered her down so she lay with her back down on the table, and then I was fucking her in earnest again. Heather moaned in excitement as she felt my thick cock pushing past her slit, sliding down past the folds of her outer cuntlips. I grinned down at her as she cupped her own breasts and began to pinch her nipples, kneading her firm but pliant breasts as I fucked her on the table. "You are fucking tight!" I growled, shoving my engorged member deep into her gushing wet pussy, filling her to the brim and then some. Her beautiful ass-cheeks were pushing hard against the table, it was smooth and warm from the sun shining on it (we had used a sunlamp to make the sensations more real for Heather's 'fantasy'). Her own fingers, sensitive and experienced, knowing what to do to make her feel good, were sliding over her breasts, making circles around her sensitive nipples, down her waist - which sent a shiver of delight through her body, she shuddered in excitement - and then down to her clit, joining my thumb, which was pressing into her lovebutton even as I filled her up with my hard cock. As she brought her hands back up and slid them between her lustrous locks of hair, I lowered my chest down so her beautiful breasts were pressed hard against my pectorals. Now Heather was so far gone with ecstasy that she was thrusting her hips up hard against mine, grinding them against me so that she could get as much of my cock into her eager, juicy cunt as she could. "Do it! Do it to me!" she cried out, "Please! I want it, I want it so bad, fuck me! FUCK ME!" My cunt clasped down around my dick so hard I thought she would rip it off, her back arched and her head forced back, her eyes sealed shut she let out a scream of pleasure that rocked throughout the boardroom. To say she had just cum would be an understatement. My eyes felt like they were going to pop out of my face, my teeth were grinding against each other and I could feel all the blood rushing out of my body and down to my cock, it seemed like I was swelling up inside of her pussy, her hot, sweet, tight pussy, and I knew I couldn't hold it much longer. I began making hard, fast strokes, my balls slapping against her asscheeks as I fucked the Melrose Place Star. She had spread her legs wide and was eagerly slamming her hips up against my pelvis, crying out for more, begging me to fuck her even more. "GAAAKKKK!!!!" I cried and grabbed her hips tight, pulled her forward even as I slammed my own hips as far forward as possible, grinding the base of my cock against her tight, gushing pussy. BAM, BAM, BAM, I fired shot after shot of sperm deep into her pussy, it fired from my cock and into her and I felt all the strength go out of my body with it. After my final shot I let out a gurgle of pleasure and collapsed on top of her. "We have a deal?" she asked me, buttoning up the crumpled, wrinkled mess of a shirt. "You have my word, I won't buy up all your stock," I laughed, then looked her over with a smile, "You were certainly worth it." She returned the smile, then walked out of the room. The moment she left a post-hypnotic command would make her return home and forget what had happened until that night, when she would 'dream it', this would then enable her to store the information in that part of her brain where unimportant dreams and fantasies were placed, this way there was no unnatural suppression of memory that could resurface later. Still, there was one more thing I had to do. I pulled a cell-phone out of my pocket and flipped it open. "Mr Rodriguez," I said into the non-functioning prop, "This is Robert Delgado, have you thought anymore about selling the five percent of stock you own?" I pretended to listen for a second. "No? Well, I'll be sending you a fax soon you should see, then give me a call." As I closed up the cellphone I turned to where I knew a camera would be facing and smiled. "After all, I only promised not to buy ALL the stock!" "Shee-it!" laughed Bart, slapping the table, "Yes damnit! That's what I like to hear!" I grinned, it was kind of fun, letting down my guard like this and chatting away about my greatest accomplishments... after all, it didn't matter, when I was finished with him, he'd be in no shape to tell anyone anything. "You should have done her ass, though," Bart said, "That would have been fucking awesome!" "Yeah, well," I responded, "Back then I didn't even think about that kind of thing, it was pussy and mouth, mouth and pussy... still, I've got no regrets, the description doesn't do her cunt justice, it was fucking tight!" Bart smiled, "Shit man, I can't wait till I do my first celebrity, I wonder who it'll be." "That's what I've been wondering," I replied, "You wanta do one, it'll have to be soon, after what happened to me tonight the Organisation will probably be keeping me on a shorter leash." "Somehow I don't think you're the kind of person who wears a leash," said Bart. I laughed, "Well, if it makes them feel better to think they control me, let them think they do." "Tell me," he said, "What happened tonight?" So for the next hour or so I told him about the Bat-Orgy (**) and he listened, rapt. "Man," he said finally, when I had finished, "It's not been a good day for you, has it?" "Forget about that," I replied, "Tell me, who do you want first, whose going to be your first piece of celebrity ass?" He smiled, "Tell you what, pal, have you seen the movie I Know What You Did Last Summer?"Bart and I had cleaned up the mess he had made, storing the photos and journals back in the Safety Deposit Box and hiding it away in my wall safe (the little fucker even had the combination to that!) and then Bart hid himself away as soon as the Operative showed up. It was remarkable, I thought, that already Bart trusted me enough to leave me alone with an Operative who could easily call in assistance to take him out... maybe I was as much of a charmer as I knew Kevin Spacey to be? Or maybe I'd gotten so used to hypnotizing people I was able to do it without even realizing it. Whatever the case, I had no intention of severing our relationship just yet, I was actually enjoying myself, walking the edge whilst knowing I could pull away at any second with no ill-effects. Anyway, back to JLH. As I said, she seemed pretty in a waifish sort of way, but hardly the incredible, beautiful sex-goddess I'd expected from Bart's description... and then I saw her body. Wow! If ever there was a real-life equivalent to all those comic book women, this was it. She had long, smooth legs, an incredibly tight little ass, an impossibly skinny waist and HUGE TITS!!! Her body seemed like sex personified. The rest of the movie sped by, I was truly surprised by the revelation of who the killer was... although in my defense they didn't exactly make him a suspect until the second before he was revealed. I didn't really give a shit about any of that, though, I had been hanging on, waiting to see Jennifer naked, and then finally came the shower scene at the end. She stood in a tiny towel, her cleavage alone had probably caused ten or twenty million adolescents to walk hunched over for the next couple of hours, talking on the phone. "Pisses you off, don't it," commented Bart finally. "After all that," I said after a few seconds, "You don't get to see her naked at all?" "Nope," responded Bart, taking the tape out of the video - the anti-social bastard hadn't bothered to rewind it I noticed - he grinned at me, "Not even her ass." "You know what she is, don't you?" I asked. "Sure do," laughed Bart, leaning back in the couch and munching up the last of the popcorn, "Used to be a lot of her sort back in my neighborhood where I grew up, we called 'em cock-teases." "When a girl walks around like that in a movie and doesn't show anything, you know what she's saying," I muttered, "She's saying, 'look at this... well, look at what you can, you'll never have it,' she is a fucking tease!" Even as I said this I had to hide that smirk, because in truth I respected Ms Hewitt for not showing herself naked. So she had teased the country... shit, the world! and not shown anything, that just made her like me, she knew she was in a superior position to the plebes, and she knew she could flaunt as little or as much or herself as she wanted and damn the consequences. She wasn't a part of public society, she was above it. "Nothing for it then," I said, looking Bart in the eye, "You and I are going to show Ms. Hewitt she can tease whoever she wants, just not us." Of course, it wasn't as simple as all that. First off I had to find an old supply of pills I had used before some of the Organisations specialists discovered a way to make me sterile, then I had to convince Bart to take them. "Listen," I told him, "If I hypnotize her, she'll never remember what happens... but tongues might start to wag when she gets pregnant!" After much grumbling he agreed to start taking the pills (after making me have one too, to make sure I wasn't trying to poison him), and he got even angrier when I said he'd have to take them for a week or so before we could be sure they had taken effect. "It'll take about that long to set this all up, anyway," I told him, "I want to get Jennifer on the pill as well, so all our bases are covered, plus I've got to set up the hypnotism and plan the way we're going to do things... you want this to be done quick, or right?" And again he assented. "And besides," I said to clinch things, "Tomorrow I've got a meeting with The Head, Tom and Alec that I'm dreading, and I need to get some sleep!" He agreed, made himself comfortable in the spare room and went to sleep. Despite my protests to needing to be ready for tomorrow's meeting, I was awake into the wee hours of the morning, planning. The Next Day. "The bit where Kim licks the cum off Nicole's face, and then kisses her, that was awesome!" Alec was exclaiming. Tom nodded with a grin I found to be more than a little condescending, although today I knew he was just trying to act like a little kid whose just gotten a new toy and is trying to pretend he's only slightly impressed. "I must admit," he said, "The bit where Nicole got up and demanded to be triple-fucked was a real shocker... but I loved it! Especially at the end when the three of them came all over her," he gave a little laugh. At that precise moment the guy reminded me of those preppy sons of bitches who were born with a silver spoon in their mouth and the closest they got to work was asking the Butler to ask the gardener to trim the hedges, "Why didn't you tell us you were going to do that?" "Well," I replied with a sly grin, "I couldn't expect you to enjoy the movie if I gave away the ending, could I?" We all laughed, and I breathed an inward sigh of relief. The taping we had got had been more than enough for the films we were going to make, and we'd been able to edit out the photographer. Tom and Alec shook my hand a few more times and forced us all to smoke Cuban cigars during the second screening of the Bat-Orgy. (I detested any sort of smoking, but pretended to find them delicious merely for the sake that my position was precarious.) Finally they left, and I was left alone with The Head. "It's not good," he said, "Things are bad." "Shit, here it comes," I thought, "Thank Goodness for my insurance policy." "Yep, we found those two Operatives lying dead in an adjacent warehouse, their throats slit and their clothes removed." "Shit! I was home free, I wasn't getting any of the blame, the Operatives had been killed so I was blameless! It never even occurred to me till later to think why they'd been killed... maybe some gang members had stumbled on them and taken exception to a violation of perceived territory, who cared, I was safe!" "Thank goodness you acted so quickly or we could have had a major scandal on our hands," The Head remarked, "And you did a fantastic job on the Bat-Orgy... I just wish you could have taken all of them at least once." I grinned, "I did remember? In the preparation (***) sequence." "Yeah, but for your personal use only, that was the deal you made with Tom and Alec," he sounded wistful, but if he expected me to lend him the tapes he was sadly misguided... I hadn't inserted my special 'insurance policy' in those tapes, as I did with everything that held evidence of my 'work.' "Anyway, will you be available for the Post Academy Award Orgy? It always works better when you're there... Kim Basinger is going to win Best Supporting Actress you know." "Not this year," I replied, "My cock is willing, my body is weak, I'm gonna take a week or so off." "Typical," he laughed, "I try to get you to go on holiday and you bring me new ideas, I ask you to be at work you want to go on holiday!" But the comments were good natured, the guy obviously didn't hold me to blame for the events at the end of The Bat-Orgy, and he understood that after stress like that, any ordinary person would want a holiday. Except I wasn't ordinary. As I left the Office I detoured down to Information/Collection, each Organisation Building had one of these sections, with the information on most celebrities, stars, politicians etc available on the Closed Organisation Network (CON), or in files, dossiers and the like. I accessed a terminal and used my backdoor password to login without leaving a record. From there I instructed the surveillance cameras to loop back the last five minutes of tape (the system was fully automated, the tapes being checked every 24 hours, and happily at this early hour, Information/Collection was deserted) while I printed out all the information I could on Jennifer Love Hewitt. Having finished, I collected all the information up and left, safe in the knowledge that none were the wiser. And up in the fully automated security room, Kevin Spacey had been watching what I was doing with great interest. End Chapter Six, Part Two Of Four. Requests, Compliments and Criticisms to: dimitri_resides@hotmail.com (*) For those who haven't read the rest of this series, Gary Cole was the infamous Celebrity Rapist, murdered by the Organisation after being arrested for attempted rape. (**) Ahhh yes, the infamous Bat-Orgy, Chapters Four and Five of the Celebrity Hypnotist series, available upon request from: dimitri_resides@hotmail.along with Chapters 1-3 and any other stories I've written. Chapter Four Of This Series </DOCUMENT_TEXT>

Part Two Of Four

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/12894.txt

Bitbard

Blindside

"They don't give a damn about any trumpet playing band it ain't what they call rock and roll. And sultans Yea the sultans play Creole. Creole." -- Dire Straits, "Sultans of Swing" The woman at the bar scanned the crowded room with a disinterest that bordered on contempt. Her long fingernails tapped idly on her wine glass as she considered the people around her. "Sheep," she thought contemptuously. "Every last one of them." To her eye, every person moved as though carrying a great weight; their shoulders slumped, their eyes drooped, their smiles and laughs forced, as if each of them were being ground under the great wheel of life. "Sheep," she thought again. "Bored, unimaginative sheep." "Excuse me, but can I buy you a drink?" A man, no, a boy, asked her. For a moment, the woman considered her suitor. He was tall with short, straight blonde hair, that together with his tanned skin shouted for all to see, "California sun worshiper." He really was quite cute in a boyish way, and he was just young enough to avoid the sheep pen. His eyes at least, panicked though they were awaiting her answer, held the glimmer of life. For another moment, she considered. "I already have one, thanks," she said, dismissing him with a tone that brooked no argument. "A dance then?" the boy asked. The woman sighed. Just like the young to miss such an obvious signal. She didn't have either the time or inclination to teach this boy the rules of the game. "No." Dejected, the boy drifted away into the milling crowd and was soon as out of sight as out of mind. The woman turned her attention back to the crowds. There had to be someone here who could liven up the night. Then, in a booth across the bar, she spied someone who caught her eye. His shoulders were not slumped. He leaned forward at the table, scanning the crowds just as she was doing. Though he was a bit older than she normally preferred, there was nothing sheepish about him. His eyes probed the crowds like a hawk looking for prey; she could almost imagine the multitude of details he observed and then discarded. Finally, a wolf in the fold. She turned to the bartender and said a few words. A few minutes later, the man, carrying a fresh drink, walked over and took the seat next to her. "It's not often a beautiful woman buys me a drink." He inclined his head slightly and raised his glass in salute. "Thank you." "You're welcome," The woman answered, a small smile gracing her features. "I'm Steve Whiley." "Katie Bairn. But you can call me Kate." "Nice to meet you, Kate. Do you always buy strange men drinks?" "Only the ones that look like fun," Kate smiled. "I'm a terrible dancer." "Are you a good lover?" Steve paused a moment and considered the forward remark before smiling, "Have you ever met a man who didn't think he was God's gift to women?" Kate laughed, "A few, but they were gay and were thus God's gift to men." Steve joined her in laughter before taking a sip of the gin. "You didn't answer my question," Kate prodded. "Given my obvious bias, I guess that's something you'll just have to find out for yourself." Kate smirked. She had picked very well. Some men found an aggressive woman intimidating; some, like Steve, not only played the game but pushed back. "Your place or mine?" "I've got a bachelor pad around the block." "Bachelor pad, eh?" Kate pondered, rubbing her lip. "I'm tempted to say mine." "But?" "But my place is a half hour away, and since I'm dying to find the answer to my question, I guess your place is the lesser of two evils. You do have a 'droid, don't you?" Steve nodded. "Keeps the place livable anyway." "You'd better stop before you charm my panties right off me," said Kate, acting the part of a dreamy-eyed lover with a tone that dripped sarcasm. Steve laughed and finished his drink in one huge gulp. "Your rules, Kate. I feel like I've just grabbed hold of a tiger's tail." "Does that disturb you?" Kate asked seriously. Steve leaned forward and winked. "When I've got a tiger by the tail, I bypass disturbed and go right to excited, especially considering the shape of the tail." Kate leaned forward and patted Steve on the cheek, "Good answer." "Good tail," Steve answered appreciatively as they stood and prepared to leave. "Where's the moose head?" Kate asked as she surveyed the tiny apartment. "No room," Steve grinned as he poured them drinks. Kate maneuvered through the crowded room cautiously, pausing occasionally to study an interesting knick-knack, or to run her gloved finger over a particularly dusty shelf. She was scanning the titles in the bookshelf as Steve handed her a glass. "You like mysteries," Kate noted. "You could say that. I'm a P.I. by trade." Kate turned and considered Steve carefully, her eyebrow arched in surprise as she studied him. "A private dick?" Steve grinned. "Tonight, anyway. Tomorrow I belong to the public again." Kate took a step closer to him and ran her finger playfully along his chest. "You must be very big in your field." "The biggest dick I know," Steve answered playfully. Kate grinned coyly. "No doubt." Her hand went lower until her palm pressed against a growing bulge in Steve's pants. "Impressive. Do you have a bed in this shoe box or shall we just do it standing up?" "Oh, I have a bedroom," Steve said, motioning toward a door across the room, "but I think I should ask if you'd like the sex to be as fast as the seduction." "Oh no. With sex, one should always take one's time. How kind of you to ask." "I've got an eye for details," Steve answered. "A good quality for my Dick to possess."Kate grinned as she took his hand and pulled him into the bedroom. *** Steve's clothes were discarded as quickly as Kate had picked him up, and he slid onto the bed, waiting for Kate to join him. Kate, though, took this opportunity to slow the pace down and stripped slowly, as Steve watched appreciatively from the bed. The tasteful, even elegant dress and gloves were slowly removed to reveal an exciting and thought-provoking (among other things) garter and exquisitely cut lingerie. Kate's eyes darted up playfully, ensuring that her performance was appreciated. Her eyebrow arched, and she smiled smugly as she noted Steve's ready and willing cock standing in salute. Standing at the foot of the bed, she sensuously raised one leg and rested it on the bed, giving Steve an impossibly good view of the flesh peeking out from under the delicate lace work of her lingerie. Snap, snap. Kate unhooked the stocking leisurely and, with deliberate sensuality, began rolling it down her long, perfectly shaped leg. Steve's eyes followed her hands with anticipatory expectation. Kate uncrooked her finger, and the stocking fell to the floor. The remaining stocking was removed with equal care. With her legs spread, Kate pushed her not-inconsiderable breasts together before unhooking her clasp. She removed the bra, revealing two exquisitely shaped breasts. Steve whooshed in excitement. "Nice," he said appreciatively. Kate smiled. "I'm so glad you approve." With everything but her panties removed, Kate ditched the erotic strip show and dove onto the bed with an acrobatic twisting leap that had her landing on her back next to Steve. He started to take her in his strong arms, but she lightly diverted him as she raised her hips and, with one smooth effortless motion, removed her panties and cast them across the room. "Are you ready now?" Steve asked, attempting to sound amused, his gasping breath shattering the illusion. Rolling Steve onto his back, Kate towered over him as her legs parted around his waist. "The question is," Kate mocked, "are you ready?" Her hands dove down and wrapped themselves around Steve's throbbing cock. She tugged lightly at the foreskin, sending an electric thrill of pleasure through her waiting lover. "Hmm. Looks like my private Dick is ready for a case." "Ughhha" Steve grunted incoherently as she squeezed him playfully. "The case of the purloined pussy" Kate bubbled. "Our intrepid hero runs along the desert plains," Kate said as she rubbed Steve's glans against her belly. "Braving the plains, unshrinking from the task at hand, the private dick enters the bushlands," Kate teased as she lifted up, allowing Steve's straining tip to be brushed by her soft, downy tufts of pubic hair. "Emerging from the bushlands, our private dick stands before a valley, and he quivers with anticipation, knowing his quarry is near," Kate flirted as she ran his shaft through her outer lips. Despite herself, she let out a small gasp as Steve's glans ran over her swollen clit. "Well, what d'ya know. Dick found pussy," Kate smiled as she lowered herself onto Steve. "I like this case!" Steve gasped. "Hmmm. I thought you might," Kate answered mischievously. With seductive allure, Kate lifted her arms high, emphasizing for the moment her wonderful breasts, before letting her fingers run through her long, luxurious hair. Her hips began to roll in a circular motion, the motion moving Steve in and out of her, not by large amounts but very, very quickly. Kate's fingers let a strand of hair fall, then slowly traced a path to her breasts. As she fingered her erect, sensitive nipples, she began to raise and lower herself, still with that same circular motion. Her head arched back, and a long moan escaped her as she followed the threads of pleasure she was weaving. Steve's hands grasped her athletic waist, just for the pleasure of the contact. The sight of this gorgeous woman moving over him, playing with her breasts, was almost as stimulating as her warm, moist pussy pulsating around his shaft. "Oh yes!" Kate groaned. "Yes!" she cried as she leaned forward, straining to follow the building pleasure. As Kate writhed over him in orgasmic ecstasy, Steve's senses exploded. *** The darkness was complete and total. In the dead of night, under cloudy, moonless skies, a figure moved. In the still night air, soft muffled puffs and clops from the suction cups bound to palms and knees mingled with the other noises of the city, as the burglar slowly crawled up the ten-story building. It was an old technology, but sometimes it was best to go with the tried and true, especially when most security systems could detect an antigrav field. At the top, the burglar secured a rope and threw one end over the edge. The door on the roof of the building looked simple enough, but the burglar studied it carefully for almost a minute before pulling out a long thin wire with two clips. The burglar pushed one end of the wire through an almost nonexistent crack between the frame and the door. The glue at the end bonded instantly with a metal contact. Near the bottom of the door, the burglar pushed the wire through another crack. Only after the circuit had been bypassed did the burglar pull out a set of intricate tools and begin to pick the lock. The door opened silently, and the burglar peered in cautiously. Only the pinnacle of professionalism restrained a sigh of relief: there was no security camera -- the stairwell wasn't monitored. A black, booted foot moved forward, and then stopped, just an inch above the floor. The boot pulled back, and the burglar knelt down to study the floor just inside the doorway. A pressure pad, a very well-disguised one. Under the black mask, the burglar smiled. There were easier ways to steal the diamond, but this was the most challenging. The designers of the security system had laid their trap like a chess master lays out his pieces, waiting for the trap to spring. But a queen was nimble. Carefully stepping around the pad, breathing fast with anticipation and feeling the adrenaline rush of excitement, the burglar entered the building: the game was afoot. At the heart of the building, near the center of the fifth floor, the burglar hugged the wall and waited. Two very alert guards were guarding the door, but before anything could be done, one left for the restroom. There was nothing to do now but wait until he returned. After an eternity, he did return. From the sound of it, he had brought coffee for his partner. As they were distributing the cups, the burglar stepped out from around the corner. Before either could possibly see what was happening, the burglar blew into a small tube. One of the guards swatted his neck as if stung. The other guard's expression turned from puzzled to concerned when his partner sank slowly to the floor. Before he could react, a second small dart thudded into his neck and the world went black. It had taken less than a second. The traps at the door were elaborate and complicated, but not infallible, and the security system remained blissfully unaware as the door opened into a small, simple room. On a pedestal in the center of the room stood the diamond; flawless, beautiful, and under the carefully trained spotlights; throwing rainbows across the room. To the casual observer, the spotlights were set to enhance the beauty of the stone. To the cold, calculating eyes of the burglar, those rainbows were being observed by sensitive optics, waiting to sound the alarm if for any reason the dazzling spectrum of light changed in even the smallest detail. Overhead, a security camera slowly panned the room. In the basement, the image of the burglar filled the monitors as a guard sat slumped over in his chair, the flashing "Security Disabled" light reflecting off his cheek. Security, though, was never a device, always a system, and a system has many parts. The burglar had taken care of building security; all that remained was the room security. It was almost trivial. Almost. Ten minutes later, a black-clad figure slid down the rope and, on reaching the ground, disappeared into the darkness. *** "Revisiting our top story: Early this morning, the Vandleberg diamond was stolen from Danzil's Auction House. Police investigators say they currently have no solid leads, but believe this was the work of the pygmy bandit, so called because of the blowgun-style tranquilizer darts used to subdue the guards. The Vandleberg diamond was to be auctioned this morning, and the diamond was estimated to have fetched over one million new dollars. This is the twelfth time the pygmy bandit has struck. Police estimate the dollar value of the combined thefts at over fifty million new dollars worldwide." The radio blared, rousing Steve from blissful slumber. He listened to the report groggily, leisurely making the transition from sleep to alertness. Leisurely, until he remembered his guest and last night. Blindly, he felt around his bed. He was alone. What a strange woman. Usually, it was the man who left. Sighing, Steve opened his eyes and sat up. He paused at the doorway when he saw Kate sitting in gloriously nude splendor at the small table, reading the morning paper as she sipped coffee. "Good morning," she said as she noticed him. "You slept well." "I had good reason," Steve smiled. "I've got to leave in a bit, but I wanted to ask you before I left if you'd like to get together tonight." "You mean, this isn't a one-night stand?" Steve asked. Kate considered him a moment. "It can be if you want. But I think you're," she cast about for a word, "convenient." "When you flatter me so outrageously, how can I refuse?" Steve asked. Kate smiled and patted his hand patronizingly as Steve joined her at the table. "Tonight, though, I think we'll use my place." "Oh?" Steve asked."Let's just say, it's hard for a woman to get comfortable here." Steve slapped his head in mock chastisement. "So it's not me! It's my decorating skills!" "Exactly." Kate smiled. They shared breakfast before Kate excused herself. As she headed down the hall to the elevator, she opened her purse and checked to be sure the diamond was still there. It never hurt to be cautious. One wouldn't want to lose a million-dollar diamond. *** "Mr. Whiley?" the man asked as he stepped into the office. Steve rose and smiled as he offered his hand and said, "The same. What can I do for you?" "Sam Greene. I represent Vincent, Foster, and Thanes." "The insurance company," Steve said. "Yes. You've heard of the Vandleberg burglary?" "It's kind of hard to miss, considering it's the talk of the town right now. Your firm didn't perchance insure the diamond?" Sam shook his head. "No. Fortunately that burden belongs to another firm. We do, however, insure the Starburst Ruby, and it will arrive in LA in three days. Considering the skills of the person who stole the Vandleberg diamond, you can understand perhaps why we are a bit nervous." "Of course," Steve said. "We'd like to hire you to work with our security experts." "Security isn't really my field." "But you do have experience in the area, and you have a certain reputation. My employers feel that you would be a considerable asset in protecting our charge." "And if I accept, what kind of role did you have in mind?" "You'd be a consultant. Able to come and go as you please, and pass along recommendations to our chief of security. We think your biggest asset is your ability to profile criminals." Steve nodded. His ability to profile criminals had developed over many years of tracking down serial killers and terrorists. The skills he lacked in security would be balanced by his feel for the criminal mind, understanding what drove him, how he worked. The insurance company had done their homework. "A thousand a day, plus expenses. How long do you need me?" "Thirty days. That's how long the diamond will be in town." Steve let out a long, low whistle. "You're not expecting a volume discount, are you?" Sam smiled broadly. "The Starburst Ruby is priceless. The current owner purchased it for almost half a billion new dollars. The insurance premiums on the stone are generous. Your fee is more than acceptable." "Maybe I should make it two thousand a day, then," Steve laughed. "Maybe, but I don't think you should look a gift horse in the mouth." "Good advice. When do you want me to start?" "This afternoon." Steve frowned. "Let's make it tomorrow morning. Best to get a fresh start, and I have a date tonight." "An expensive date, to lose a thousand dollars for." "She's worth it," Steve said firmly. Sam shrugged and began pulling forms out of his briefcase for Steve to fill out. *** "You look distracted," Kate said over dinner. Steve looked up sheepishly. "Sorry." "Thinking about tonight?" Kate said coyly, running her fork in figure eights through her pasta. "That too," Steve smiled. Kate's eyebrow arched dangerously. "Too? You mean there's someone else?" "Something else. I got a new case today." Kate leaned forward eagerly. "Wanna tell me about it?" "Can't. Sorry." Kate pouted. "You don't trust me." "Would you trust me if I told you all about it, knowing that my clients expect me to keep my trap shut?" Kate smiled warmly, "Kinda like, how can I trust you if they can't?" "Exactly." "I can live with that." The conversation lagged a little before Kate looked up and said, "You never told me you were famous." Steve laughed. "If I were really famous, you'd know I was famous." Kate laughed. "Well, I don't follow Hollywood that closely. I did watch Zero G this afternoon, though. I wondered why your name seemed familiar." Steve shrugged. "That film's been nothing but trouble. People are terribly disappointed when they see the real thing." Kate leaned over and said conspiratorially, "Then those people never had you flat on their back." "Most people wouldn't want to have me on my back." "I like a discriminating man." "How fortunate for me." "Are you done yet?" Steve looked down at his half-finished plate, then at the beautiful woman staring at him, her lush, red lips parting slightly with desire. "Yes," Steve said. *** Kate collapsed onto Steve, her skin wet with perspiration, panting in deep long breaths as she came down from her orgasm. As she rolled off him, Steve kissed her lightly on the lips, then lowered his head to suckle her still erect teat. "Hmmm," Kate hummed as she ran her fingers through his hair. Inspired by the exhilarating sex, Steve began to work his way down, fully intending to give her at least two or three more orgasms to pass the time. Kate's hands stiffened around his head, pulling him to a stop. "No. Please." Steve looked up puzzled. "I appreciate it. But really, I'm done." Steve sighed and snuggled up next to her. "It's the control, isn't it?" "Are you investigating me?" Kate asked. She smiled but she sounded annoyed. "No," Steve said quickly. "Just an observation." Kate frowned. "I don't think there's anything wrong with being on top of things." Steve laughed at the pun. "Do you hear me complaining?" "Not exactly." "None at all. I'm just trying to find out how to please you as much as you please me." Kate smiled and traced a finger down Steve's side. "You please me just fine, Steve. I don't sleep with just anyone twice, you know." "I'm trying for a third." "Then stop observing." "I'm a detective. I'm naturally curious. And, other than the fact that you're the best woman I've ever slept with, I know nothing at all about you." Kate sighed. "Fine. I need to be in control because when I was young I wasn't. I was raped when I was fifteen. I swore I'd never be that helpless again. It's a promise I've kept." "I'm sorry," Steve said quickly. "No you're not," Kate chided. "You're naturally curious." "You're right," Steve sighed. "But you know, letting someone please you isn't really losing control. Look how easily you stopped me, with just two words." "I am _not_ going to get into a sexual psychology discussion with you. I like who I am just fine." "I like you just fine too," Steve smiled. "I just thought talking about something would be better than staring at the ceiling for the next half hour." "Just my luck, to find the only guy in the whole city who doesn't roll over and fall asleep after sex." "You inspire me." Kate studied Steve for a moment, wanting to open up to him, wanting, even needing to share herself with him. For a moment. Then the moment passed. *** Steve studied the case files before him, as a mental image of the burglar slowly began to take shape. Physically, he'd be between five feet and five foot five. Shorter than average. He'd be thin, in excellent shape, and acrobatic. The basic physical profile was easy, extrapolated from the size of passages used, and the physical demands necessary to elude the other traps. Other than general build, the profile offered few clues that would let Steve pick him out of a crowd. The psychological profile, however, was a wealth of information. This thief thrived on danger. Time and time again the easier paths were discarded in favor of more challenging routes. But the burglar wasn't stupid. He took risks, but always avoided the foolproof traps. Without doubt, the thefts were always meticulously planned. Planning required information. Before the thief could steal the jewel, the thief would first have to steal information. Steve punched a few numbers into his terminal and an attractive blonde appeared on the screen. "Good morning, Steve," she said. "Morning, Candice. How's the love life?" Steve asked. "Other than Jimmy the super-geek, pretty boring," Candice sighed. "I thought you liked nerds." Candice grinned evilly. "Oh, they're cute enough, but they just don't get the juices flowing like you do." Steve smiled at the obvious bait. "I'll send Jimmy a pair of handcuffs, blindfold, and a supergizmo dildo 9000 with instructions." Candice sighed. "I take it you don't have time to pay a visit?" "Sorry, lover. Got a new case." "Business before pleasure. What do you need?" "You," Steve grinned, "But that will have to wait. I need you to break into Vincent, Foster, and Thanes's security systems. What I need are a few traps to alert me if someone follows you." Candice thought for a moment. "That's not going to be easy. There are a million ways to break into a computer." "I have faith in you Candice," Steve said. Candice sighed. "Credit my account the usual fee. I'll have it all set up for you by this evening." "Have it alert you too," Steve said. "I'll need someone to trace the hack, and you know me and computers." "Yeah, so does the DOD," Candice laughed. "Later, lover." The screen went blank and Steve transferred one thousand dollars to Candice's account - double her usual fee. His clients would, of course, pick up the tab. *** Steve woke to the soft chirping of his phone. "Yeah?" Steve grunted. "We've got a hit," Candice said, "turn on your portable." Steve staggered out of bed and rooted around his things until he found his briefcase and pulled out his portable. The screen flashed to life with a brilliance that momentarily dazzled him. "Ohh, he's good," Candice was saying. A red dot flashed on the map on the screen, the location of the insurers. "I'm tracing him now. It's not going to be easy, it looks like he's using blind relays to mask his location," Candice mumbled as the city map dissolved into a national map and a line drawn from LA to New York. The map dissolved again to be replaced by a world map and lines began bouncing back and forth over the globe.What their prey was doing was similar to taping two public telephone handsets together. You could trace the call to the public telephone, but then you'd have to trace where the second telephone was going. More and more lines began to appear until the map was literally covered in red. "There's too many!" Candice howled in frustration. "By the time we get through all the relays, he'll have what he wants and be long gone! We should cut him off now." Steve pondered groggily for a moment. "No. Let him have the information." Candice frowned. "Steve, I can't tell you anything about this guy. When he's through, he'll know everything about their security system." "No, there's two very important things I've learned about him. He knows as much about the security system as I do." "And?" Candice prompted when Steve drifted in thought. "And he's going after the Starburst Ruby." "I don't see how that helps you," Candice said, glancing at the ever-growing red lines of the trace. "Forewarned is forearmed." "He's gone," Candice said. "Thanks, Candice. I'll talk with you later." "Be careful with this one, Steve. This guy's so smooth, your bullets may just slide off him." The screen went blank as she cut the connection. Steve glanced around Kate's bedroom and discovered he was alone. The clock said the time was three-fifteen in the morning. Wondering where Kate was, he got up and searched the spacious apartment until he found her in the study. "Steve," Kate said as he entered the room. "You're up early." "I missed you," Steve said as he slid up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. She clasped his hands in hers. "I couldn't sleep, must have been all that excitement earlier. So I decided to get rid of some old e-mail." "Sounds terribly boring. Let's go back to bed, and you can fuck me unconscious again." Kate smiled. "Would you settle for a blowjob?" Steve sighed in mock resignation. "I'll suffer, but only for you." Kate smiled and grabbed his butt as they walked back to the bedroom. Three weeks passed, and slowly the case files yielded the burglar's profile. The profile was mostly probabilities and likelihoods, but one thing was certain. If the thief struck, it would be in two weeks, during the next new moon. Steve went over the security blueprints with a critical eye, the eye he thought his prey would use. Over the weeks, two clear paths had emerged, both converging on a single point. Steve left the paths clear. He didn't want to spook his quarry. He knew the day and he knew the place. And there was something missing in the security files the thief had stolen. The files made no mention of Steve Whiley. "I like you, Steve," Kate said as she ran her palm over Steve's chest, her fingers lightly ruffling his chest-hair. Steve smiled. "I like you too, Kate. Really, a stronger word comes to mind." Kate frowned. "No. You don't understand. It's... It's not easy for me to say that. I thought you'd be just another one-night fling. Then I thought it was just for the good sex. But I like you, Steve. I haven't said that to anybody in a long, long time." Steve considered her a moment, noting a look of what might be fear mixed with vulnerability on her face. Tenderly, he brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. "Thank you. I like you too. You're a good friend, a very good friend." She took his hand in hers and held it next to her. "We talked once about control." "We did," Steve said cautiously. "It wasn't your favorite subject." "I think maybe friends shouldn't have to worry about such things," Kate said, her voice quivering as she fumbled for the words. "Really, it's OK," Steve said soothingly. "No," Kate sighed. "No, it's not. I want you to fuck me, Steve." Steve's eyes probed her as he felt out the dangerous new turn in their relationship. In many ways, Kate remained a puzzle wrapped in an enigma shrouded in mystery. But he did know that what Kate offering was almost akin to a virgin offering herself to a man. _Change me_ "Are you sure? Really, Kate, you don't need to prove anything." Kate smiled weakly. "I know. I want this." Kate rolled over and pulled Steve on top of her. Given the charged atmosphere, Steve was almost not up to the task. Almost. She spread her legs for him, wrapping her thighs around him as his excitement at the beautiful woman below him manifested itself. Feeling him grow large against her belly, Kate whispered, "He didn't look a thing like you." "Kate..." Steve paused, "Have you ever talked about this with anyone?" Kate shook her head, no. "Will you listen?" "I don't think now is the best time..." "Please?" It was a plea. Steve sighed and pushed against her entrance. She was moist, but not terribly so. Steve suspected it was mostly from their earlier play. He also suspected that even if she were bone dry, she would have insisted. For some reason, tonight she wanted to relive that time. Slowly, gently, he began to move in a soft rocking motion. As she began to talk, Steve moved within her, not for the sake of sex, not to meet the demands of lust, but to keep alive the warm, comfortable sensations. As the tale grew darker, more horrifying, Steve's movements became an attempt to stay erect because for some reason she needed him inside her. "I was fifteen. Fifteen and a half. I was such a virgin. My parents and school were so draconian, I hadn't even learned how to masturbate. It was a private school - very exclusive. It was late afternoon. It had just rained, and the air was clammy. The kind of air that would soak your shirt just by standing outside. It was hot too. Really hot. I shouldn't have been out jogging, but I was on the track team at school. I wanted the practice." "The hiking trails wound through the woods. I always used to like them, they were so pretty. Especially in spring. There were even deer and squirrels that would come up to you if you had food for them. That day, there was a man on the path in front of me. He wore a long, dirty overcoat. His hair was greasy looking, and he had an unkempt beard. I was scared of him the moment I saw him, but I was moving fast, and I figured I'd be by him in a flash." "When I was close enough to smell the stale smoke and alcohol that surrounded him, he pulled a gun on me. I should have turned around when I first saw him, I never suspected a gun. I even kept running for a second because I really didn't know what was happening. But he told me to stop and then I did know. The path there almost touched the road and he led me out to his van. The kind with no windows in the back. He made me get in." Kate's voice had an almost detached quality, and her eyes stared at an unseen point in space, though her hands continued to stroke Steve's chest as he gently rocked above her. To tell of that day was to relive it all over again, but Steve's comfortable presence, the feel of his clean, soft skin against her palms, the feel of his slow, gentle movements within her, gave her strength. She was a proud woman, strong and independent. As horrified as she was to be reliving this terrible moment, she was even more shocked to discover how vulnerable she really was, how much she really needed Steve here, now. "He drove me someplace, I don't know where. I don't know how long he drove. I was in the back curled into a ball, trying to pretend this wasn't happening to me. I was so scared. I didn't think it was possible to get more scared, but then he stopped, and I knew there was something worse than being scared. He told me to get undressed. I just sat there, crying on the floor. When I didn't do what he wanted, he slapped me," A trembling hand went up to touch her cheek, feeling the decade-old sting anew. "I stood up and got undressed. His eyes on me felt as dirty and oily as his hair. God, he was an ugly man. When he reached out to me, I cringed, and he hit me again. He felt my breasts, they weren't very big, but that didn't stop him. Then he felt my pussy, and I pulled away from him. This time he didn't slap me, he hit me, hard enough that I fell to the floor." "He dropped his pants. I'd never seen a penis. It was a small thing really, three, maybe four inches. But it was the first penis I ever saw, it was erect, and it looked huge and monstrously terrifying. He knelt over me. I didn't understand what was happening. I kept thinking 'My God, what's he going to do?' Even when he aimed his penis at my pussy, I didn't understand. Then he pushed." Kate trembled, and her voice broke. Steve paused in his movements until Kate opened her eyes, and with a light, trembling touch urged him to continue. "It hurt. But it wasn't a monstrous hurt. It was a sharp sting, the feel of dry flesh on dry flesh. I think I was too terrified to really feel pain. He tore away my virginity and my innocence. Then he started moving, and it stung when he did, like rubbing an open wound with dirty hands. It seemed like an eternity, but really, I don't think it took all that long. Then he finished." "If he had stopped there, I think it would have been easier for me later on. But he didn't stop. He had felt my virginity, and for some reason, for some sick, unknown, perverted reason, he began to finger me, using my own blood as lubricant. At first, that's all he did. But then, I started getting excited." Kate turned her head as a tear fell down her cheek onto the pillow. "The bastard made me cum. He fingered me to orgasm." Kate's voice was so pained Steve winced to hear it. "He made me fucking enjoy it. ARRRGH!" Kate howled in frustration. "It wasn't enough that he controlled what I did, controlled my body, but he took the last bit of control I had left. That was the real rape." Slowly Kate opened her eyes and turned to stare up at Steve. Her glare was ice-cold and harder than diamonds.But the look of compassion, of shared outrage on Steve's face stopped her. And slowly she let go of the death grip on her emotions and began to cry. Steve pulled her up to him and hugged her hard as he felt her tears run down his shoulders. "It's OK," Steve said softly as he held her. "It's not your fault. When I worked for the cops, I learned lots of rape victims get sexually aroused. It doesn't make it right." "I know," Kate whimpered as she pounded her fist against his chest. "I know." "Did they ever catch the guy?" "I don't know. For years I tried to forget about him, or at least ignore him." "So you kept it all bottled up." "I was too ashamed to tell anyone. But I thought a friend, a real friend, would understand." Steve stroked her hair lovingly and looked her in the eye as he replied, "A real friend does. It's not your fault. You're the same Katie I knew before you told me, and I love you just as much." Kate's breath caught. "Love?" Steve frowned briefly at the slip. It was true though. Katie was everything he admired in a woman - beautiful, articulate, intelligent, and endlessly exciting. It wasn't love at first sight, but it was a love that had grown as bit by bit she revealed herself to him. "Too heavy?" Kate laughed and whipped away a tear. "I just told you the most depressing story, and you're worried proclaiming your love for me is too heavy?" "So I'm a considerate bastard. Sue me." "Are you going to lay me back down and finish what you started, or are you going to get all mushy on me?" "Can't I do both?" Steve grinned. Kate sighed, as she at first submitted to Steve's movements, then slowly she began participating. With Steve above her, she yielded much of the control, but gained instead a trust. A trust that was well rewarded, as for the first time, they made love. "I've got to be away for the next three nights, Kate. I'm sorry." "Your case?" Kate asked idly, somewhat relieved since she was not sure how to tell Steve she needed some time to herself. Steve nodded. "It's gonna get hot and heavy over the next few days. I really won't have time for anything else." "Nothing dangerous." Steve smiled and shook his head. "No. Nothing dangerous. Just time consuming." "Well, be careful." "Your wish is my command." Kate stared at the computer screen, going over for the thousandth time the details of her plan. This would be the last heist. She had more money than she'd ever need. But it was never about the money. It was never about pretty baubles, though both were nice fringe benefits. It was always the thrill of the hunt. Always the sense of danger and fear. Tokens of the danger and fear she had felt so long ago, but on a job she was in control. The last week with Steve, though, had changed many things she once took for granted. She didn't always need to be in control, for one. It was even fun. As the days passed by, and her bond with Steve grew deeper, the need for this job grew less and less within her. For a moment, she paused to remember the first time she had let Steve suck her. It was almost the ultimate loss of control. The total yielding to her partner's timings, her partner's whims of direction and speed. The first few moments recalled those terrifying moments as the rapist's fingers circled her clit. But this time it was different. This time she was loved. This time she wanted it. It had been wonderful. If Steve's job hadn't called him away, she might have skipped it entirely. But it was all planned out. As always, she had been meticulous in her details. And so in the end, it was only momentum that carried her forward. Steve paced the room nervously, glancing now and again at the ruby that dominated the room. It was a flawed ruby, but the flaw made it priceless. Somehow the flaw, deep within the fist-sized gem, created an explosion of light and color inside, giving the gem its name. The simple farmer who unearthed it now owned an island in the Bahamas. People of wealth lusted after it as a token of their power and prestige. The sense of anticipation was thick. The profile said the thief would strike when the moon was new, a window of three nights. But without knowing how he knew, Steve felt it would be this night. A signal from the guards alerted him that the night watch was beginning. He acknowledged the call, then slipped silently into a recess in the wall, and waited. The air duct was cramped, almost suffocating, and the thin metal foil creaked and groaned as she wiggled through, sending pangs of fear shooting through her. Noise was her enemy. Fear was her enemy as well. She paused a moment to calm herself, letting the tension drain from her with a simple meditation. When she began moving again, not even the mice noted her passing. With the greatest of care, Kate removed the grate. If anything even as small as a bead of sweat should fall, the pressure sensitive floor would sound the alarm. If there were a noise louder than a whisper, or even as soft as a whisper, the alarm would sound. The grate removed, she peeked in, surveying the room and looking for guards. The files didn't call for any, but humans, unlike security systems, were unpredictable - that's what made them so dangerous. Finding no one with her cursory glance, she strapped on the suction cups and began crawling across the ceiling. Directly over the gem, she paused to admire its beauty from this unique vantage point. In minutes, it would be hers. Maybe this one she would not sell. From the darkened vantage of the recess, Steve's eyes followed the figure as it moved across the ceiling. For a moment, he allowed himself to be impressed at the cat-like skill and coordination the thief exhibited. The thief carried only the barest essentials, nothing surprising there. What was surprising was that the thief was a woman. The profile didn't rule it out, but it didn't exactly scream feminine characteristics either. Steve stepped out from his hiding place, his gun leveled at the figure. "That's far enough," Steve said. The thief turned sharply at the voice then froze. Steve had anticipated a break to the alternate route. In fact his aim was shifting in that direction, and for a moment he was as surprised at his prey's lack of reaction as the prey was to discover someone else in the room. "Oh God! No! Not Steve!" Kate's mind raced at the unceasing thought. The fear of discovery and the terrible consequences finally solidified in her mind. She had to get away. Steve pressed a button on the remote and the two air ducts were suddenly sealed by heavy metal plating. "A new addition," Steve said. "Installed after you downloaded the security files. The only way out is through those doors, and you know the security out there is so heavy you'd never break through. You like risks, but you're not stupid - that's why you choose the air ducts." The thief's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Lower yourself carefully to the floor. No sudden movements. I don't see a weapon on you, but I'm not going to take any chances either." The thief lowered herself to the floor slowly but the stance when she reached the ground was wrong. She was still looking for a way out. "Don't think grabbing the remote will do you any good. The vents will stay shut for the next five hours. The guards will enter the room in exactly nine minutes. More than enough time for me to get to know you a little bit. You see, I'm a professional too. It's a rare day when I get to corner my prey personally. Security was kind enough to indulge me with a little time, once I managed to convince them there was no escape, of course." The thief's stance changed, again the posture of defeat. Checkmate. "Remove your mask, please." Kate was panting in short, strained gasps as she raised her hand to the mask. Powerless. This was what she had skirted all these years. Always, she knew that this could happen. Maybe she even wanted it to happen, maybe this time it would be different. Steve waved the gun impatiently. Her hands had stopped, her fingers just under the fabric. She couldn't go on, but Steve wouldn't take no for an answer. How many minutes until security burst in and made it all irrelevant? Her head bowed in defeat and shame she pulled the mask free. "No!" Steve cried, aghast. "I'm sorry, Steve. I didn't know this was your case. I never… I never would have…" Words failed her as tears streamed down her cheeks. Then Steve did the unthinkable, and turned his back on her as his mind whirled. Ethics. Steve lived and breathed ethics, he had seen what not having them did to people. Ethics was returning someone's wallet with the money intact even if you hadn't eaten in a week. Ethics was spending time with a friend because it had been promised, even if that time interfered with work or other activities. It was knowing the right thing and doing it even if it hurt. Ethics demanded Kate be turned over to the cops. Some would say that she was only ripping off the insurance companies. Ethics said that the insurance companies always got their due -- the cost of the stolen items would come out of the pockets of thousands of people, people like Steve, people like his friends, his buddies on the force. His eyes were closed but he could still see Kate standing behind him. If this was bad for him, how much worse for her? How much control would she have in prison? She trusted him, something she had never done since that terrible rape. She trusted him not to hurt her. She loved him. He loved her. Love was stronger than ethics. Steve raised the remote and said, "Jack, what's your readiness?" "Five men at the door. Five men at each of the airduct exits," the radio crackled. "Alarm status?" "Only your signal." "Ok. Reset the system - that was just a test." "A test?""Hold on. I'm coming in," the voice demanded, becoming more irate. The door burst open, and a large, heavyset man strode in. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Kate and started fumbling for his weapon. "Hold your horses, Jack. I'd like you to meet one of my employees. This is Katie Bairn. She's an expert at getting into impossible places." "Your file didn't say anything about an employee." "My files don't say a lot of things," Steve said, his tone low, level, and dangerous. Unconvinced, Jack pressed, "Why now? This thing's only here five more days. If you wanted a test, you should've done it weeks ago. And you should've told me first." Steve, transferring his anger to Jack, stomped over until the two men were face to face. Jabbing his finger into Jack's chest, Steve said with barely restrained fury, "Now, because my profile says if the pygmy bandit strikes, it will either be tomorrow night or the night after. I want your men alert, I want you alert. I don't work for you, or with you, Jack, my job is a consultant. If I hadn't warned you about the ducts, and Katie had been our bandit, the ruby would be gone by now. So, the end result, Jack, is that you're pissed off, but the system works _damn it_. If we can snag Katie, then by God we can snag anybody." "All right, man. Don't have a cow. Geez, sorry. I just got all worked up, and it takes a while to calm down." Steve smiled. "Yeah, I'm sorry too. I'm angry because Katie almost got by me anyway. We need to get those locks on automatic - I'll go over the details with you later." "Sure thing, Steve," Jack said. Then he glanced over at Katie, who was watching them with a completely unreadable expression. "She really that good?" "Before this tour is over, Jack, remind me to tell you about the time she tested White House security." Jack smiled. "I'll do that." He turned and bowed slightly to Katie, saying, "Pleasure to meet you, ma'am." Katie smiled weakly before Jack turned and left the room. "Why?" Katie asked. "You know me well enough to maybe understand what I do. I thought I knew you too. The Steve I know would have turned me in. It would have eaten him alive, but he'd do it." Steve swallowed hard. "People change." He paused a moment and then said, "People _can_ change." "I know," Katie said softly. "What now?" "I don't know," Steve said. "I really don't."

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/12355.txt

Joy Paine

MILKMAID

"Just lean your bike up against the side of the house," Cathy said. "Nobody will monkey with it -- as you'll soon learn, this is a very friendly neighborhood." Friendly indeed! Yes, and I was going to learn real soon what "friendly" meant, and how I was going to have to be "friendly" with all of the boys (and some of the girls), and with any other creep that the Boss OK'd. Yeah, I was going to get a thorough education that afternoon, and in the weeks -- and the years -- that followed. It wasn't much consolation that there were a lot of other girls from school (and from other places) in the same fix. He didn't even refer to us as his harem -- we were his "herd" -- no better than animals, forced to serve -- and to service -- anybody that met the Boss's "standards". Which usually meant meeting his price. But all that came later. Right now I was rather enjoying the feeling I got Down There from riding my bike over to Cathy's house. Yeah, I knew the words -- vulva and vagina -- and I even knew the difference between the two. After all, we had learned them in hygiene class at school, but I didn't feel comfortable with them. And I knew the gutter words, too, like snatch and twat, and the c-word, but I wouldn't even think them in those days. So I just kept on thinking of the parts of my body in the terms of my childhood. Just as Cathy still referred to her breasts as "boobies", even though they were so well filled out that you would swear she was nursing a baby. But I was going to learn the words -- and learn to use them (the words and the parts of the body) -- in no time at all. After all, my teacher was a master at the art. CHAPTER: Chapter 2 CORRECTED_TEXT: I got the first hint that something was wrong when we walked into the house. I knew that Cathy lived with her older brother, and she said that he was away on one of his out-of-town trips. "Lining up meat", she said, which is about the strangest job description I had ever heard. So I imagined we would be alone in the house that afternoon. We were let into the house by Anne, obviously a maid, according to the outlandish costume she had on -- an outfit that displayed everything that she had, but did it in a tastefully sexy manner -- who spoke with a French accent that was obviously fake. She showed us to the bedroom, no less, where we were greeted by a very sinister-looking man, flanked by four of the older boys from school. Five men in a bedroom had to spell trouble, and I tried to back out, but Cathy blocked my way and Anne grabbed me by the ponytail, and dragged me back into the room. I noticed that they also had rigged up a number of video tape recorders, and I knew instinctively that I was cast in the starring role of whatever little drama they had planned. They wasted no time getting started. "Strip!" the man barked at me. The boys giggled, just like a bunch of girls. I wasn't having any of it. The Boss repeated the command. "Strip, or we'll tear your clothes off. "Makes no difference to me," he went on. "We'll get to see your little bod just as well either way. But it might make a difference to you. You see, if we have to tear your clothes off, the boys are likely to get excited, and -- shall we say -- take certain liberties along the way. "And perhaps more serious, you won't have anything to wear home at the end of the afternoon. "Oh, don't worry -- it'll still be broad daylight when we dump you in the middle of the supermarket parking lot, and there'll be lots of people around to see that you don't get into trouble during your walk home, but you just might find it a little embarrassing without your clothes." CHAPTER: Chapter 3 CORRECTED_TEXT: OK, so that did it. If I didn't strip for them, they'd make me walk home naked after they had finished with me. And believe me, I was getting a pretty good idea as to what "finish" they had in mind. Even though I was a virgin (which had earned me some ridicule from my schoolmates), I knew one end of the sausage from the other, as the saying goes. I noticed, by the way, that they didn't promise to give me my clothes back even if I did everything they wanted, but I tried not to think about that. The alternative was a sure thing. I turned my back, and started to unbutton my blouse, but the man stopped me. "Full front," he barked. "And nice and slow, with lots of wiggles. Show her, Cathy." I don't know where Cathy ever learned to strip like that, but it looked like a professional job. My big brother had told me how it was at the "burlycue", as he called it -- where the girls took off their clothes while the audience cheered. I remember one time he just about broke me up with an imitation of the antics they went through while they were undressing. But this time it wasn't for laughs. Cathy went through the actions off stage, as it were, while I had to imitate her in front of the camera. First the shoes and stockings, then unbutton the school blazer, tug it off slowly, and toss it aside. Now my hair ribbon, letting my hair flow about my face, down to my shoulders. But it wasn't long enough to cover my breasts when I took my blouse off. Which was next. Slowly, one button at a time, then gently tug the bottom out from under my skirt, and then off the shoulders. I don't know whether they'd known I wasn't wearing a bra, but they knew pretty soon, because there were no straps over my shoulders. And that made them sit up and really pay attention. And start whistling, and cheering, and shouting "Take it off!", just like a pack of wolves. And that was just about the hardest thing I ever did in my life. Jeepers! These were boys that I was going to see tomorrow, and every day, in school, and I had to give them a free show! CHAPTER: Chapter 4 CORRECTED_TEXT: Well, after I got the blouse off, the boys (and the man who was running the event) got impatient, and they made me take off my skirt and panties together, in one movement. And then I had to stand while they looked. And took pictures. They made me stand in all kinds of positions, some gross, some inviting, some in imitation of famous paintings, like "September Morn". And of course, each one of them had to feel me, and pinch my nipples (hard enough to hurt like fire, some of them) and poke and tickle me Down There. All on camera, of course. And the man they called the Boss told me that all of the boys would get prints of the pictures "for their scrapbooks", so they could gloat over them and (worse yet) show them around school, as proof that they had "done" me. And now, the Boss pointed out, it wouldn't do me any good to try to squeal to my parents or to the police, because the pictures were proof that I was doing everything willingly. After all, he said, maybe you could fake photographs, but motion pictures on video tape were something else. And what was more (he didn't have to point it out, but he did) I would be so embarrassed just to have the pictures get around to my parents and to the teachers that I would be willing to "behave" just so he would keep them out of circulation. And then he used that oily tone of voice that I was going to get to know so well. "Now, Sweetie, now that you've shown us what you've got, we're going to let you show us what you can do with it. But only after you beg us to fuck you," he added. My God! To tell the truth, I had known in my heart that it was going to lead up to this, but hearing him say it was like a fist in the pit of my stomach. That's where I drew the line. And I told him so. CHAPTER: Chapter 5 CORRECTED_TEXT: He didn't like to have someone tell him "no", I soon found out. And found out again, over the next few years. And again and again.You'd think that I'd learn after a while that it didn't do any good to defy him, but he had everything all planned out so that he always had something worse to demand of me, just when I thought that I had reached the very bottom of pain and shame. I'm sure that he lay awake nights thinking of new things he could ask me to do, just to give him an excuse to punish me. And I found out later that he used all of the members of his "herd" from time to time as consultants, to suggest new outrages to inflict on the girls. I know this for a fact, because he often called on me as an "idea girl". He used to brag that he never gave an order on an "or else" basis. Every order was to be obeyed, sooner or later. The only option a girl had was to obey immediately and eagerly, or to be "persuaded" until she was more than eager to obey. And of course he was never completely satisfied, even when she obeyed immediately. He always found something to complain about, and to give him an excuse for punishment. And most of his "clients" were the same kind of people, but not so bad as he was, so we came to look on the hours we spent serving them as a kind of relief. While we were what he called "visiting girls", and still lived at home, we had to limit our "duty" time to what he thought we could steal from our families without them getting wise. After we became residents, of course, we had 24 "duty" hours a day. (And every day of the month, as he liked to remind us.) Every "duty" hour when we were not actually serving (read that "servicing") his clients was spent in keeping our bodies in shape or in training to service them better. But that all came later. Right now, he was determined to have me beg him and the boys to rape me. Only he wanted me to use the f-word. Chapter 6 And so my training began. The first installment of a never-ending series of torments. At least, it has not ended yet, after several years (I forget how many), and if there is any end in sight, I certainly can't see it. He started out by letting the boys "get to know me". I didn't know it at the time, but everything those boys (young men, actually) did to me was pretty tame stuff. He knew it, of course -- he knew that I would be hurt, disgusted, scared to death by their childish torments, but he also knew that their amateurish attempts left lots of room for "improvement" -- for a gradual build-up of techniques, each worse than the last one. They strapped me down, still stark naked, of course, on a framework of metal rods, lying on my back with my arms and legs spread. I've gotten to know that framework well, during my years of membership in his "herd" -- to know its capabilities and its flexibility -- how it could hold a girl's body in every position you can imagine, leaving every possibly square inch of her body accessible to whatever torments her torturer fancied. And then, to make sure that they had full access to the most interesting areas, they fastened clips (they hurt!) onto the lips Down There, and stretched them out to straps that fitted around my thighs, so that my vagina was spread wide open. Well, the boys were mostly interested in pinching and fingering all of the no-no places, with a little tickling mixed in. But they also added a bit of tongue action that was actually pleasant -- kissing, and licking, and sucking my nipples and -- especially -- Down There. And then Anne took over. She was an expert in what I came to know was called "erotic" stimulation -- in no time at all, she had me wiggling and moaning, and begging her to continue. But I heard the Boss remind her that her job was just to warm me up, and especially to get me lubricated -- and Heaven help her if she let me slip "over the edge". So I was a machine now -- not even an animal any more -- to be got lubricated and ready for use. As a matter of fact, he often used to refer to us as his "sex machines". "The orgasms come later," he warned Anne, "when they'll serve our purpose, not hers." Chapter 7 "So are you ready for us now, Sweetie?" he crooned in that oily voice of his. And I almost said yes, I was so eager to continue the pleasant stimulation that Anne was applying, even though I had no idea in those days what they would lead to. But I knew that what he wanted to do was dirty, and might lead to disease or pregnancy, and I knew that it was wrong, and I shook my head. He seemed to be happy that I refused. "OK, we go the next step," he grinned at the boys, and picked up the cane. It was made of some sort of very flexible wood, and made a horrible WHOOSH! when he swept it through the air. I knew what he had in mind, with my legs stretched apart like that, and I started to beg him not to do it. Well, he said, that's not quite what he wanted me to beg for, and he brought that damned cane down on my clitoris. I've never known anything else that hurt quite that much, and believe me, I've know lots of things that hurt an awful lot. So it didn't take more than that one stroke to make me beg him to rape me, but he hit me a few more times until I got the exact words just right (including the f-word, of course), and the tone of my voice sounding "like I really wanted it". And then a couple more strokes "just for good measure". And then he untied me, and warned me that he was going to make video tapes of what went on, and he wanted me to smile all the while, and make it look as if I loved every minute of it. And he made practice that silly smile until I got it right. I almost puked when he told me what I was to do, but he just prodded me gently with that horrible cane -- Down There, of course -- and I agreed that yes, it would be a nice thing to do for him, and yes, I would probably be having as much fun as he would. Chapter 8 Well, he told me what to do, and I did it, revolting though it was. I didn't want any more of that cane on my clit, thank you. First I begged him, although my voice broke as I used the F-word for the first time in my life, and then I took his clothes off, one by one. It wasn't much problem taking off his shirt and undershirt, but when I got to his fly I broke down for a minute. His pinch was excruciating - the more so because of the recent caning - and it reminded me clearly of the fact that I would be caned again if I didn't do what he wanted. Swallowing the puke that was trying to come up my throat, I unzipped it, and peeled off his pants and his undershorts in one humiliating motion. And then he made me put my hand on his Thing, and stroke it while it got hard, which didn't take any time at all. Now I had to cuddle up against him, with that revolting tool poking into my belly, and let him kiss me, poking his tongue deep into my mouth, and swabbing it around against mine. And then he made me do the same thing to him. This time he bit it, not enough to really hurt, but enough to impress on me how much it would hurt if he really put some force into it. He told me then that he liked to have a girl caress his nipples all the time he was doing her; with her lips and tongue if they were available, and otherwise with her fingertips. I thought that was pretty queer, but you can guess that I didn't tell him that. I just got to work, tongue on one side, and fingers on the other, and shifting sides when he told me. His Thing was a roaring monster by the time he told me to suck it up. Yeah, that's what he said -- SUCK it! Eew! It took another reminding pinch to get me to put my lips around it, and he warned me that if he even felt so much as a hint of his teeth, I'd get it, but good. And then the moment of truth. He made me lie down on my back and spread my legs painfully wide, while he just looked at me for a couple of minutes, and then just kneeled between my legs. He warned me to get my fingertips going on his nipples again, and reminded me that there would be a painful punishment if I stopped even for an instant, no matter what the reason. And then he pressed the end of his Thing against the slit of my vagina (and now I was glad about that lubrication that Anne had arranged for me) and shoved it in. Chapter 9 I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth, and said a little prayer to myself. I had known ever since I understood about such things that this was the worst thing that could happen to a girl - they used to call it a Fate Worse Than Death - unless she was married, which somehow made it all right. I could understand part of that - if a girl got pregnant (I understood that much about IT in those days), nobody would ever forgive her if she did it before she had a father for the baby. But our teacher had told us that there were ways to keep from getting pregnant, but it was still wrong to go all the way before you were married. And I believed it. I found out that they were wrong about one thing, though - there were other things that were worse - a lot worse - than getting pregnant, and I experienced most of them. Well, maybe not most. Every time I thought that I had seen the worst possible, that bastard would come up with something worse. Anyway, worst or not, it was pretty grim - what teacher would have called traumatic, sure, but just purely painful, as well. He twisted my nipples brutally "just to remind you what your fingers are supposed to be doing", and then his big hands glommed onto my little breasts and squeezed the daylights out of them. He stopped just before I blacked out, and let me recover just a moment, and then started pushing in. It started hurting immediately, as the tissue stretched almost to the breaking point. Almost. He had had enough experience so he could judge down to the ounce how much force my cherry could stand, and he knew to the width of an eyelash how far he could push without breaking it.And after pushing to that magical point of almost, he would pull back and let the pain disperse itself through my body, amusing himself by squeezing my breasts while he regrouped for the next push. And now and then he would use this moment of relaxation to make another probing examination of my mouth with his tongue. Chapter 10 Well, I knew that he couldn't keep up that teasing forever. I could tell from the quickening of his breathing and the urgency of his thrusts, as well as the increased agony as he squeezed my breasts even harder, that it wouldn't be long now. And it wasn't. With one last savage thrust, he literally tore his way into me. The blazing pain of the tearing tissue obscured for a moment the mental anguish of the destruction of all my childhood dreams of chastity, and his cruel laugh left no doubt as to how much he enjoyed the moment. The pain subsided a little after that, but my abused clitoris still hurt like fire as he rubbed back and forth against it, and he kept up the assault on my aching breasts. (No danger of my spoiling his sport by orgasming prematurely.) Until that final moment, when one last spasm told me in no uncertain terms that he had spilled his venom into me. But that wasn't the worst, as I was soon to learn. He muttered something about the boys not liking "sloppy seconds", and they strapped me onto that damned framework again. I supposed that he was going to douche me out, but was I ever wrong! He used a thing that looked like (and was, I learned later) one of those toy darts that kids shoot -- with a rubber suction cup at the end, that sticks onto the target. Putting in something (I didn't see it exactly) that kept my vagina stretched open -- all the way in -- he started actually sweeping the walls with the edge of the suction cup. Like a windshield-wiper, he joked. That's where I learned first-hand about the G-spot that the girls used to talk about. But with the rough way he was brushing it (I'm sure he did it on purpose), it was more irritating than pleasant. And that was a bit of knowledge that was going to be brought back to me time and time again during the years that I was a member of his "herd". And suddenly I realized what his game was -- he was sweeping the filthy mess *inward*, toward my cervix, and using the cup to force it actually through the cervix, into my womb! He laughed at the dirty name I called him, and gave me the whole sadistic scoop. "We've had Cathy and other friends making careful observations of your behavior over the past weeks," he pointed out, "and we calculated that this was the time of the month when you were most likely to take seriously what we were poking at you in fun." He actually was trying to make me pregnant! Chapter 11 He was deliberately trying to make me pregnant, and there wasn't a thing in the world I could do about it. Except pray. I tried that, but I'm afraid that it was too late for prayer, in a situation like that. "It's actually for your own peace of mind," he went on, with that cruel twisted logic of his. (I don't think he really believed it -- he was just twisting the knife.) "Just like breaking your cherry, so you won't have to worry about losing it every time you take a lover. If you're already pregnant, you won't worry about getting knocked up every time you get screwed. "But it's not as bad as you think," he went on. "If you behave -- mind you, *IF* you behave -- we'll fix you up with a relatively painless abortion before it gets to the point where everyone will know. On the other hand, if you don't obey the rules completely, we'll just let Nature take its course until you're thoroughly disgraced among your family and the neighbors, and then when we kidnap you to become a resident member of our whore corps, everybody will think that you ran away because of the shame. "But in either case, we won't stop your pregnancy until your body has started the process of lactation, which we can keep up after the abortion with doses of prolactin. "It's important getting you into milk production" he went on. "First, it'll give you a sexier figure -- look at Cathy's, for example -- and second it'll make you much more desirable as a sex partner in other ways, as there are lots of things a man can do to a lactating tit that will hurt much more than anything he can do to an empty one. And of course he can always get a refreshing sip of milk while he's making love to you." Boy, was that ever gross! But the Boss wasn't finished yet. "And a healthy young broad like you will be a valuable addition to our dairy herd," he went on. "There's a very lucrative market among the Smart Set," he pointed out, "for human milk and milk products, like cheese and yogurt." Jeepers, how revolting! Just like a cow! "Plus our Leche parties, where the cocktail girls are always ready to supply a sip of milk, right from the tap, as it were. Or our formal dinners, where the serving wenches have an unfailing supply of milk for the coffee or tea. All the guest has to do is aim and squeeze. "And of course, the girls are also available for entertainment after dinner," he pointed out. "Or even before dinner is over, if they just can't wait. The other guests always get a kick out of watching someone spread a girl out on the table and do her right in front of God and everybody. Sometimes it develops into a real gang bang," he grinned. "And one other little item," he went on. "Before a girl is admitted to our herd, she submits her milk for judging. Sort of like a wine-tasting event, except that the judges of wine don't usually drink right from the press. And instead of awarding medals, we mark the girl herself -- right on the breast, which we think is the most appropriate place. Show her, Cathy," he prompted. Soundlessly, Cathy exposed her breast, showing the grading, neatly located underneath her breast, where the fold usually kept it hidden. The burn had completely healed, but my head reeled at the thought of how painful it must have been when they branded her. Chapter 12 Well, then he started giving me instructions again. There were several times during his little speech that I almost puked, but I managed to keep it under control, don't ask me how. And the worst was yet to come. Waving his penis in front of my eyes, he started to croon in that sickly sweet tone of voice again. "Look at the mess you've left on John Henry," he complained. "Now, we can't have that, can we? No indeed, we can't. You're not finished with your lover until you've cleaned him off." "But you never gave me a chance . . ." "Now's your chance, Baby." And he left no doubt as to what he meant, as he pushed the revolting thing up against my lips. "After all," he went on, "you won't always have any other cleaning instruments handy, so you might as well learn to use what Nature gave you. And Heaven help you if I get even so much as a touch of your teeth." He twisted my nipples by way of warning, and I found that I could clean him off very nicely, thank you. "And now to finish cleaning you . . ." This time it wasn't nearly so gross. He had some huge swabs -- they looked exactly like ear swabs, only about an inch in diameter -- which he dipped in some liquid that cleaned the surface of my vagina, and gave it a mildly bracing feeling. And a very lightly perfumed smell. I thought I was ready for my next rape, (I had no doubt about what the other boys had in mind), but he had to have a little more fun first. "Report card time!" he announced. I found that this was to be a part of the ritual every time a customer took me. The client would recite a list of ways in which my performance had been "inadequate", and then administer whatever punishment he (or she) thought was appropriate. And often this roused the customer to the point of further dalliance, of course. Followed by another report card session... I forget all of the things he found wrong with my performance, but they included: - Not looking eager enough (and happy enough) to please ("If these videotapes are going to sell, you've got to be convincing. When we want you to look unhappy, we'll give you something to be really unhappy about...") - Having to be told what to do to warm him up, and having to be told to clean him off afterward ("You ought to be woman enough to know these things instinctively. Anyway, you know now. And if you're wise, you'll ask your lover what special behavior he wants before you start. As a matter of fact, you're going to keep a journal - in your own handwriting - of what each of your lovers prefers. No need to identify him in the book, of course, except by a code that will remind you when you look him up in preparation for your next date with him.") - Interrupting my stroking of his nipples a couple of times ("I don't care if it did itch, or if you had to move to ease the pain. You're performing for my happiness, rather than yours.") And the punishment consisted of another caning, of course. Right in the same place. Chapter 13 I don't think that I've ever got a perfect grade from one of my customers, no matter how hard I've tried. And believe me, have I ever tried! OK, so some of them have grudgingly admitted that my performance was "pretty good", but have grumbled that it could have been better (no particulars), just so they would have an excuse for a punishment session. Some of them seemed to like the punishment better than the sex itself, and every last of them had to inflict pain along with the sex. I don't know whether it was the "policy of the House", or whether it was just that the Boss catered especially to that kind of clientele. Probably a little of both. Certainly the atmosphere of the "workrooms" was designed to arouse any latent sadism that might be present in the customers.There was that restraint framework, for instance, where they could strap a girl into any position. And there were whips and paddles and other goodies hung in plain sight on the walls, where the customer could just reach out and grab them. Or better yet, have me take them down from their hooks and pass them to the customer. And of course, just the sight of them would often give the john ideas -- as if he didn't have enough of them already! And there were all sorts of visual aids -- pictures of girls servicing their customers, usually in obvious agony. And pictures of the agony without the sex. Videotapes, too, where the customer and I could sit as if in a theater, with him holding my hand (or other part of my body, of course). Even popcorn, if he wanted it. I say "he", because the majority of my lovers were men, but there were plenty of women, too. And they really knew how to hurt a girl. But I'm getting ahead of myself. For the moment, there were those schoolmates of mine to take care of. Chapter 14 Well, those kids were an anticlimax, after the professional job the Boss had done on me. For one thing, my sensibilities were pretty much numbed by now, so the degradation was more or less a matter of routine. In fact, the Boss had to warn me (just once) that my performance must not become perfunctory ("the johns aren't paying for a chunk of cold meat"), but must always be characterized by one extreme or the other -- either I must be friendly, co-operative, even eager, smiling warmly under the ordeal, and actually begging for more, as if I really liked it; or, more often, I was to beg, and struggle, and scream, as if I were suffering the horrors of Hell. More often the latter -- far more often. And that was easier, in a sense, because it didn't take any acting ability at all. But this time, he wanted the friendly approach, as if I really enjoyed what I was doing; or at least as if I were being handsomely paid for servicing my young friends. And that did take some acting ability. But you'd be amazed how expert an actress I became with nothing but that whip to help me! Well, the guys did show some originality, but they were so eager to get it off that they didn't take time to hurt me an awful lot, and the videotapes of my performance mostly looked as if we were both having a good time. Which is what they wanted, of course. When a guy showed the still shots from those tapes around school, he wanted it to look like he was the Great Kahuna, and not like somebody who was just lucky enough to have access to a girl he could torture into submission. They were still creative at "report card" time, though, and managed to find excuses to whip me again, no matter how hard I tried. And the Boss squeegeed out my vagina every time, of course. No use letting all that precious fluid, that Nature had produced for this very purpose, go to waste. And after the guys had finished, there was still Cathy to be taken care of. I don't think that she really enjoyed it any more than I did, but she had learned a lot about acting -- learned it the hard way, of course, just as I was learning it -- and I'm sure that the tape looked as if we were both having fun. So when I had finished doing Cathy, the Boss had her do me, something I had never expected. Of course the orgasm lost a lot of its pleasure from the fact that I was still starring in a video movie, and from the fact that the boys were all watching, shouting things like "go, baby!" and like that, but it was still sort of pleasant. In spite of the lingering pain from the whippings. Until the Boss pointed out that sure it was nice to have the tape of me enjoying a Lesbian episode, but also my contractions would help suck all of that semen into my womb, and increase the chances of my becoming pregnant. Chapter 15 Eventually, the boys went home, and the Boss said it was time to "get down to business". I guess that he didn't think that what I had been doing had been "business" enough! For starters, he made me start my "order book" - one page for each boy (and for himself, of course) - telling in lurid detail what they had wanted, and what I had done for them. That was the way I've been able to write this journal - every chance I've had, I've set aside a sheet of paper, and written down a description of the episodes just as they happened, and hidden them where nobody can find them. I can usually manage to get hold of only one sheet at a time, and that's why each "chapter" has been so short. And after I had finished writing up the first day's adventures (in my own handwriting, as he insisted), he handed me a preview of what the boys were going to want tomorrow. I didn't expect to get much sleep that night - if I ever got home at all - knowing that I had all those gross things waiting for me. By now it was starting to get late in the afternoon, and the Boss finally said it was time to go home - after I got ready. "Ready" meant first an enema ("so you won't have to take the butt plug out"), and then the butt plug itself. A very special butt plug, that slowly and relentlessly kept swelling, stretching me painfully. The Boss said that it wouldn't keep on expanding forever - that it would just grow until it stretched my rectum to the point where I could do the things that tomorrow's customer wanted, and then it would just hold that size until I got used to it. He didn't tell me what the dildo was for - just shoved it in as a matter of course, and told me that I could take it out when I got home, if I wanted to, but that I must always be wearing it when I showed up for "work". There was no question about my wanting to take it out - it was designed for irritation, rather than for pleasure. And there was no question about my feeling it, either - one of the boys had "fixed up" my bike so that it gave the most possible vibration all the way home - and Cathy rode home beside me, to make sure that I didn't get off and walk the bike.

Chapter 1

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/8442.txt

Uncle Mike

Newhart: The Made Maid

"Stephanie, I never said you weren't pretty. I just said that some men prefer, well, different types of women," Joanna grunted as she lifted a sack of potatoes from the car. "You can't expect every man to drool over you." Stephanie continued to sort through the brown grocery bags, searching for the one with the lightest load. "And why not, Joanna? You don't really expect me to believe those boys were looking at you in THAT way, do you?" Joanna, a tall, slim woman of about 40, pushed a wisp of hair away from her face with the back of her hand as she leaned against the door of the inn she and her husband ran. As usual, she wore simple clothes -- a bright wool sweater and a pair of brown slacks. The clothes weren't sexy themselves, but the way Joanna filled them out gave them a special appeal. The horizontally striped pattern of the sweater accented the swell of her large breasts, and the curve of the slacks hinted at the long legs and tight ass beneath them. She paused a few moments to get her breath back -- she had made 10 trips back and forth from the car to Stephanie's one -- before turning to the young maid. The irritation in her voice was barely veiled. "Stephanie, why can't you admit that those boys were whistling at me? They were looking right at me. It's not the first time that's ever happened to me, you know." Stephanie faced Joanna, hands on hips. She was shorter and clearly much younger, with a pert, expertly made-up face and a halo of blond hair. The short, cream skirt she wore showed off her perfectly shaped legs, and it was clear from the outline of her white blouse that she was in excellent shape, although her breasts were certainly not as large as the older woman's. Her coral-pink lips were drawn into a pout as she spoke. "I'm sure," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "The bag boys probably want you to have their babies all the time. But I still say the ones who whistled were aiming at me. They must have just been looking at you to figure out if -- oh, I don't know, to figure out if you were my mom or something. Let's face it, Joanna, you're no spring chicken." With an exaggerated sigh, Joanna pushed past the younger girl and picked another bag from the trunk. "Let's just forget it, Stephanie." The maid fished a bag out of the back seat; it contained only potato chips and a loaf of white bread. She trailed Joanna to the back door, waiting while the other woman put down her load of canned goods and opened the screen door. A few minutes later, when they were both busy putting stuff away, Stephanie started up the argument again. "I just think it's time you faced the facts, Joanna," she said. "A girl like me -- beautiful, slim, young, rich -- I can get any man I want. They would be lined up 12 deep at my bedroom door if I didn't make it clear I wasn't interested. Why, you know, that's probably why those boys weren't looking at me! They saw that I was too good for them, so they were afraid to look me in the eye when they whistled." She nodded her head to punctuate the thought. Joanna stretched to put some beans on a top shelf. Over her shoulder, she said, "You can believe what you want, Stephanie. But we both know that a lot of men like a woman with more, well, more development. I've had my share of wolf whistles. With this chest, I have to expect it." She gathered up several boxes of cereal -- pointedly holding them in a basket of her arms, presenting her breasts as if on a platter. "And let's face it, Stephanie. You're young and pretty, but you just don't have the shape that a lot of men want." The young maid's eyes blazed, but she didn't say a word. Turning abruptly on her heel, she stomped out of the kitchen. Joanna called after her to no avail; with a sigh, she finished putting away the groceries herself.And you've never given me a neck massage. Come to think of it, no one's ever given me -- a little more to the left. That's it. Her probing fingers erased the concern from his mind, and Dick closed his eyes and sagged back against the chair. She was very good at this, he noticed; he could feel the tension draining out of him as she rubbed away at his neck and shoulders. "There's a little teensy-weensy knot right here," Stephanie said, rubbing hard at a spot just below his right shoulder blade. "I think I need to get a little closer to it. Do you mind?" As she spoke, her hands slipped around Dick's sides, and she unbuttoned his shirt. He leaned forward a bit to help her pull it down, and then settled back again as she went to work on the trouble spot. Her hands felt warm on his flesh as she kneaded away. "That's perfect," Dick sighed. Stephanie then began scratching his back with her long nails. Little shivers of delight rolled like waves through his body. He was so lost in pleasure that he didn't really notice when her hands strayed from his back and began tracing a path across his stomach, down to his belt buckle. It was only when Stephanie undid the buckle, simultaneously slipping a hot, wet tongue into his ear, that Dick came to with a start. "Stephanie, what are you doing?" She had undone his pants and slid down the zipper before he could get a grip on the desk's edge and spin himself around. When he had spun halfway around, his feet slammed into the floor, stopping the twist abruptly. Stephanie stood before him almost completely naked, clad only in a lacy white garter belt, sheer white hose, and her shiny high heels. Her perky young breasts stood out firm and erect, with the dainty aureoles capped by perfect nipples. Her lips were parted slightly, forming a pout that seemed much sexier than Dick had ever noticed it being before. Before he could say another word, she stepped toward him. "Touch me, Dick," she commanded in a husky whisper. "I want you. I want you now." "You want me?" "You know I do," she said, and pointed at his crotch. "And you want me, too." He couldn't deny it. His boxers were tented high as his stiff cock strained at the restriction. Dick licked his lips and stared. She seemed too good to be true, all that lush young flesh. It was like a dream. He didn't know what to do first, but Stephanie took his hands in hers and brought them to her breasts. "Do you like my breasts, Dick? Are they big enough for you? They're not too small, are they?" "No! They're -- they're perfect." He squeezed them, thrilling to their firmness. She had the tits of a teenager, and it had been a long time -- well, actually, he'd never felt a teenager's tits. As he groped, Stephanie tugged his shorts down, freeing his cock to wave in the air like a fat flagpole. At her touch, he shied away, but she gently placed both hands around his shaft. Her touch was warm and soft; her hands had obviously never done hard labor. Dick felt a few drops of pre-cum ooze out the tip as she caressed his rod. "That's a very nice cock you have, Dick," Stephanie whispered. "I like men with nice, big, hard cocks. Do you know what I like to do when I get one? Do you?" "No," he stammered out, his eyes still fastened to her chest. "Ooooh, I like to touch it, like this. I like to rub my hands up and down and feel that nice, hard cock rubbing against my fingers. And do you know what else I like to do?" He could only shake his head. "I like to lick that long, stiff cock all over with my hot tongue. And then I like to put that cock in my mouth and suck on it, up and down, until it spurts out cum all over my face." As she talked, Stephanie continued to rub his cock. Dick's hands had fallen back, and his eyes were closed as he felt nothing but the sensation of her fingers on his shaft. "Would you like me to do that, Dick? Would you like me to put that hard cock of yours in my little mouth? Would you..." "Yes! Yes, yes, oh God, yes!" Stephanie knelt down before him and gently pressed his legs apart. She leaned forward and kissed the tip of his cock before opening her lips and taking him into her mouth. Her lips closed around the shaft, gripping it tightly, while her fingers circled the base and continued to pump. The combination of the sight of her beautiful naked body and the feel of her hot lips on his shaft didn't take long to get to Dick, and within minutes, he was moaning as white jets of cum shot out of his cock. True to her word, Stephanie swallowed them all, even licking the head of his rod to get the last few drops. Dick felt drained, and he sagged back in his chair. But Stephanie appeared perky as ever, rising to her feet only to plop herself down onto his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck and planted a long, deep kiss on his lips. An orgasm usually left him feeling sleepy, but her kiss quickly revived him. He slipped one arm around her slim waist, letting the other hand fall to her silky bush. She wriggled in delight as his fingers tickled their way to her slit, already moist with secretions. Stephanie's obvious delight in his actions made Dick feel like a kid again -- like the lover he never was. Tenderly, then with more and more passion, he drove his fingers into her slit as her pussy juices coated them. All the while, they kissed and suckled each other. "Oh, Dick, that's so good," she whispered in his ear. "Oh, god, do you know what else I want to do now?" Dick had to take a deep breath before he could answer. "What would that be?" "I want to fuck you," she said simply, and the words sent a jolt through him even more than when her lips had first closed on his cock. "But I can't do it so soon..." "Yes you can," she giggled. To his surprise, Dick realized it was true; he could feel his cock beginning to swell anew. "And I really want to fuck you, Dick. I want that hard cock inside my pussy. I want to ride it so hard! And you're going to make me cum, Dick. I can feel it. You're going to make me cum so hard! Won't that be fun!" With one last long, deep kiss, Stephanie twisted around so that her back was against Dick's chest, and his cock was poking up between her legs. She had to stroke it only a little while before it was once again stiff. With Dick holding her tightly around the waist, she lifted herself up and scooched forward, putting her soaking wet pussy lips directly above his shaft. In one long, slow, fluid movement, she lowered herself and buried his cock in her up to the hilt. Dick pressed his mouth to her neck to muffle his scream of ecstasy as he felt her tight cunt walls enfold his rod. "Ooooh, it's as good as I thought it would be," Stephanie cooed, while she wiggled around on the stiff cock. She began to pump away at it, bathing it in her secretions, squeezing it with her pussy lips. Guttural grunts escaped Dick's lips as his hands reached up to squeeze her pert breasts. Stephanie bent her head around to plant a wet kiss on his face. "Do you like this, Dick? Am I doing OK?" "Perfect," he managed to get out. "Perfect. Just -- perfect." It was almost too much effort to speak now; he wanted to concentrate only on the incredible sensations. Stephanie's body felt as light as a feather on his lap, but her cunt's attack on his cock was strong and determined. He had never imagined their stuck-up maid could be such a sexual being. She was a goddess, and he was worshiping eagerly at the temple of her body, driving his cock into her as a sacrifice to her beauty. Or at least that was one of the mental images flooding his lust-crazed mind as they continued to rut away with abandon, the desk chair squeaking beneath them. "You're doing it, Dick," Stephanie said with a gasp. "Oh, god, you really are! You're going to make me cum! I can feel it! I can feel it! I can aaaaaaauuuuggghhhh!" Stephanie's flailing orgasm brought on his own, and another surge of cum shot out of his cock, this time filling the girl's hot pussy and oozing out the sides to mingle with her own gush of fluids, pouring down his cock and onto the seat. With his last reserves of strength, Dick drove his faltering cock into her cunt once, twice, a third time, squeezing the last bit of jism from it before his rod shriveled and his muscles gave out. Just a few seconds later, Stephanie rose off of him and briskly slipped her clothes back onto her sweaty body. Dick sat in a rapidly cooling puddle of their fluids, too exhausted to move. "We've got to clean this up," he called out weakly as Stephanie moved toward the door. "What if Joanna..." "Sorry, Dick, it's my lunch hour now," the young girl said saucily, closing the door behind her. As Stephanie stepped out from behind the front desk, with her hands on the top button of her blouse, Joanna came into the lobby, pushing her way through the door from the dining room. "Stephanie, where have you been? I had to put all those groceries away by myself. And it turns out we forgot to get the steaks and things for the special dinner we promised the Fergusons Saturday -- you remember, the anniversary couple? You'll just have to -- Why are you looking at me like that?" "Oh, Joanna, Joanna, Joanna, you poor dear woman." Joanna ignored the comment -- a typical Stephanieism, she thought. "What was I saying? Oh, yes, you'll have to -- stop that!" Stephanie paused with her hand halfway to another pat of Joanna's shoulder."I'm sorry, Joanna, it just makes me feel so sorry for you to see how wrong you were." "About what?" "About how some men prefer women who are, you know, over-endowed? As opposed to well-built, perfectly shaped young women like, well, like me." "Stephanie, I don't know what you're talking about, but you're going to have to..." "Oh, Joanna, you silly thing! Of course you know what I'm talking about. Our little conversation in the kitchen? You..." "I remember, Stephanie, but what does that have to do with anything?" "Just this, Joanna. You said that I wasn't enough for some men. But I know at least one man who's had a chance to compare you and me, and I know exactly who he prefers. 'Perfect,' he called me. More than once." Just then, Dick poked his head out of the door to the den. "Steph-- Oh, hi, Joanna. Uh, say, do we have any, uh, Lysol?" "Lysol?" Joanna was beginning to think the whole inn was going crazy around her -- not that that was unusual. "Why in the world do you need..." "Oh, no reason," Dick said, "but d-d-do we have any?" "In the basement, I think," Joanna began, "but I still don't understand..." Not waiting for her to finish, Dick scuttled across to the basement door and disappeared down the steps. Joanna, who had started across the lobby to talk to him, slipped behind the front desk, her face in a frown. "Now what could he have..." As she spoke, she opened the door to his den and took half a step inside. "Good heavens, this room smells like a whorehouse!" She slapped a hand to her mouth. "Not that I have any idea what that smells like, of course, I mean..." Stephanie, giggling, was leaning on the other side of the reception desk. "Now do you understand what I was talking about, Joanna?" The older woman's face grew dark red. "You, you, you," she spluttered, unable to say more. "That's right, Joanna. Little, young, petite, 'perfect' me. Guess you were wrong about what men want, weren't you?" She snatched out of Joanna's hand a small sheet of paper. "Steaks, baking potatoes -- oh, I get it, you need this from the market. Well, I think I'll leave you to think about what happened, Joanna. Bye!" On her way to the door Stephanie intercepted Dick climbing up from the basement. "Come on," Stephanie said, slipping a hand around his back. "You can drive me into town." "Oh, but I have to..." "Don't worry, Joanna won't mind! Will you, Joanna?" Stephanie smirked toward the desk, where the older woman was standing stock still, her mouth half open. "See? Joanna doesn't mind. Oh, and say, Joanna, if Michael calls, be a love and tell him I'll be back in a couple of hours, won't you?" The door slammed behind her just as Joanna thought of the perfect comeback. She almost spat it out anyway, but the phone's insistent ring interrupted her train of thought.

Part A

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/15058.txt

SandMan

The Review: Chapter 2 - The Bedroom Window

"She's at it again, isn't she?" Janet said as she stepped up behind me. "Well, this time her husband is with her," I said as I gazed through the bedroom window. "The woman is a machine, I swear!" Janet said as she peeked over my shoulder. "Look at them flirting with each other. Well, we both know where this is leading, don't we?" "They do seem to enjoy their sex, and she definitely seems to enjoy that computer," I mumbled. "But come now, you enjoy it every bit as much as I do. It's like having a cable sex channel without the expense." "And she's given you a horribly distorted view of women," Janet said as she slid her hand down under my pants, rubbing my swollen cock. "Not everyone can sit at a computer for hours at a time with their hand on their pussies and then fuck their husband until midnight when he comes home." "Well," I said, taking her other hand and kissing the fingertips lightly, "I guess this block is just lucky to have two such women living right next door to each other." "Not me, dearest. I save myself for you," she replied as her hand wrapped itself around my cock. "Oh-ho! I guess the show's over, lover boy. They got a phone call." I turned around, a bit disappointed, but with Janet's hand still wrapped around my cock, not too disappointed. "Guess you're right. Looks like it's just you and me tonight." I couldn't help but grin at that, after all, this was hardly a consolation prize. "You'd think after all this time she'd have seen us peering in and closed the shades," Janet said as she began to unbuckle my pants. "I don't know, she usually looks pretty preoccupied. But maybe she just doesn't mind if we see her," I said as I slowly began to unbutton her blouse. "Ohhh. That's naughty. She might even get a thrill at the idea. Oh my God!" "What?" "Turn around! Her husband is giving her a head job while she's on the phone!" I turned around and laughed. "Well, now that's my idea of phone sex!" I stepped around behind my wife and resumed the job of undressing her as I watched the couple in the house next door. "They certainly seem to have a healthy marriage, don't they?" "Very," Janet gasped, as aroused as I was by the sight or maybe it was my hand wrapped around her breast -- after five years, you learned how to push your partner's buttons, and it was so easy when those buttons were nicely erect. "I wonder who she's talking to?" I asked. I could hear her smiling as she answered. "Probably Rose. I just got off the phone with her; she's calling all the parents in town, bitching about how Disney is corrupting the youth of America." "You know Celeste loves her jokes. It wouldn't surprise me in the slightest," I said as I ran my hand down to her pussy. Janet was more than hot, the erotic view and my attentions had more than worked their magic. By now, I had pretty much lost interest in the view from the window, preoccupied with the view of my lovely wife. I knelt down and began running my tongue through her pussy lips until she got the idea and leaned over and spread her legs. "Ohh, that's so nice," she moaned. "It's so damn sexy watching them go at each other with you down there." "Mrrrf," I agreed. In such situations, I usually manage to keep track of the time only by the number of orgasms Janet has. Rose talked for two orgasms before Janet said, "Oh! She couldn't. She wouldn't!?" "Wrmf!?" I asked. "She's taking her husband up the ass!" Janet said, still rather shocked at the idea. I finally pulled away and stood up to get a better view. Well, not better, let's say different. "She obviously loves her husband more than you love yours," I said coyly. "Maybe my husband loves my pussy more than he likes hers," she said pointedly. I had to laugh. Janet and I had tried everything under the sun at one point, but anal sex was not on her favorites list. Her hand had wrapped itself around my cock again, stroking slowly to keep me interested, not that I really needed much prompting. "She certainly looks like she's enjoying it." "She would," Janet said dryly. "One more thing for me to try and live up to." I kissed her neck and ran an appreciative hand around her breast. "You don't have to live up to anybody's standards but mine, dear, and you've never failed to do that." "You say the nicest things, lover," she said as she increased the pressure around my cock. "Good thing I like it doggie style," she said suggestively, leaning forward again. "Woof, woof!" I agreed as I slid into her. Even after five years, this had never lost its appeal to me. Our exotic neighbors added a spice to our passions on occasion, but Janet to me always remained a full course meal. Every time I would hear from my friends and coworkers how boring their sex lives were, how their wives were uninterested or uninteresting, I thanked all my lucky stars for my wife. My neighbor might be discovering the joys of anal sex, but I was rediscovering yet again how perfectly Janet's pussy knew exactly what I enjoyed. I lowered my hands to her waist, pressing my fingers into her flesh. There was a joy in the power and control of this position that added to the pleasures I was feeling from her moist, responsive pussy. Added on top of that was the perfectly unobstructed view of our next-door neighbors. Life does indeed have its moments. Janet's moans told me that she was having one of those moments as well. I really didn't need all that much stimulation at this point. I had been aroused far too long; Janet and the erotic view all conspired to overwhelm my senses. I was not gentle in my orgasm; I didn't need to be. Janet was no delicate flower, and a little roughness only added to her pleasures on occasion. The orgasm was, as it always was with Janet, a thing of blinding intensity, an all-consuming rapture. As I came down, I came down to the sensations of Janet rocking back and forth on my still erect shaft as she followed her own pleasures. She was near, very near to her own. I raised her up, cupping my hands around her breasts, moving for her benefit, surely I could hold out just a little longer. It was enough. Her contractions around my cock, her moans, her shudders kept me aroused long enough for her own climax. "You are so kind to me," she cooed as she reached back and ran her hand across my face. "Looks like they're done for the night as well," I said, noting our neighbors had parted. "You know, I think maybe I should call Celeste tomorrow and discuss this Rose situation," Janet said as I rested my chin on her shoulder. "You wouldn't have an ulterior motive in mind now, would you?" I asked slyly, knowing immediately what she had in mind. "Would you be so terribly disappointed if I did?" I laughed. "I think I can be up for the task." "Where are you going?""Janet asked as I stepped away. "I just got an idea for a story," I answered with a wink. "Do you really think the Internet would be interested in what you and I do together?" she asked. "I don't know. But there's also a Celeste on the Internet who reviews these stories. This ought to be right up her alley." Janet paused, looking as if she was rolling an interesting thought around, testing it for the feel of reality. "You don't think the Internet Celeste and our neighbor Celeste..." It was a startling thought, and I considered it for a moment. "What are the odds?" I finally answered. But Janet had turned back around and was staring thoughtfully at our neighbor who had begun typing. -- Sandman

The Review: Chapter 2

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/8433.txt

deirdre

Julie

"Well, I suppose we all do sometimes," Martha had asked me if I felt my life was in a rut. "No, I'm serious, Julie. You don't seem to get excited about anything anymore." "Well, life is...comfortable with Dave. I mean...we're getting along very nicely." "You've got to *think* about this, Julie." That was all we said on the subject, but if you want to know the truth, she did make me think. I began to wonder if things could be a bit less routine in my life. The next time we met, Martha was back on my case again: "Did you think about the possibility of getting out of the doldrums?" "Oh, Martha, you exaggerate, but yes, I did think about it a bit." "But you don't know what to do, do you?" "Well, I haven't really thought about it too much as of yet." "Hmm,...I know! Come with me!" Suddenly she was up and putting on her jacket! And motioning me to come along. "Come where?" I asked. "Just come along. You're being stodgy again." She was handing me my jacket. I guess I'm a pushover--I came along. Once we were in her car and driving across town, I had more time to wonder what was up: "Where are we going?" "I know just the thing to spice up your life," was her uninformative reply. Well, it *did* inform me to be on my guard. "And what is *that*?" "I know this guy! You'll..." I cut her off short. "A guy!? Turn this car around!" "No, listen! I *swear* this is exactly what you need!" "What are you talking about!? You want me to *cheat* on Dave?" "Oh, Julie, you don't need to be so uptight. We'll see him and... well Dave need never know. Just wait 'til you find out what he's like!" "Martha! *Please* turn the car around! Uh, do you... *do it* with this guy?" "Ah, ha! Julie gets curious! I swear he is exactly what you need. Different than Dave." "What's wrong with Dave?" "Nothing, Julie dear. But this guy will do things to you that Dave never will. And you can let him because you won't be seeing him every day." "Things?" "Oh, you'll find out! With your rear." "*Martha!*" "He'll make you *love* it. Wait and see." What had I got myself into? We were turning into a driveway! My heart was beating like no tomorrow. I made myself take a deep breath and relax. I'd just say no. They weren't going to *rape* me. Would they? I tried to suppress the uncomfortable doubt. We walked up to the door. I guess my curiosity got the best of me... I wanted to *see* this guy. Martha was doing it with him? Her rear? I *had* to know more. A woman answered the door. Martha didn't seem perturbed at all and drew me into the front hall. "Is your husband here?" Martha asked. She was craning her neck to look into the other rooms. "Who is this?" the woman asked in return. "Oh, this is Julie," replied Martha. "And you brought her so Gary could do her ass?" I couldn't believe we were having this conversation! "Gary will be pleased! Yes, indeed!" I just stared! And there was more to stare at than the conversation: the woman had reached out and touched Martha, on the chest! And Martha just stood there. "And did *you* come to take Gary's cock in your ass too, Martha?" Martha glanced at me and looked at the woman, but didn't pull away! The woman had run her hand down Martha's body to her skirt and lifted it so she could slip her hand under it. "*You* want his cock in your ass, don't you, Martha? You're not answering me, are you?" "I...," Martha was tongue-tied. The woman had her hand under Martha's skirt and was obviously using it, and was unbuttoning Martha's blouse with her other hand! The woman moved closer to Martha, so their faces were only inches apart. "You're going to let Julie watch, aren't you Martha?" Martha's blouse was already off and the woman had unhooked her bra and was undoing her skirt! Martha just stood there with her mouth open. "Julie's going to watch you beg him for it, Martha. Beg to suck it. Beg to take it in your ass." She had Martha nude except for her shoes, and slipped around behind her. She continued her talking over Martha's shoulder. "You *like* it in your ass, don't you Martha?" While saying *like*, she had jammed fingers right into Martha's behind. "Yes," came Martha's reply in a breathy whisper. She no longer met my eyes. But I stared and stared. I thought about what I was going to see. There was no way I was going to walk out.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/7317.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...""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, cons

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/15276.txt

Andrew Roller

HOW TO BORROW THE CAR

"Hi, Dad. Can I borrow the car?" "No, son." Sound familiar? Don't worry. I can help. Here's what to say the next time you ask to borrow the car, and your Dad (or Mom) tells you "no". "Hi, Dad. Can I borrow the car?" "No, son." "Father, I agree with you completely. You are very wise to say 'no' to me. You see, if I were to borrow the car, it would just be a total waste of gas. "The girls I like all take their baths at 8 o'clock. By 8:30, they're tucked into bed. What use would it be for me to be driving around at night, when all the girls I like are already asleep in bed? "Furthermore, think of the cost, if I were to get into an accident. I mean, if I were to be driving around at night, thinking about all those little girls tucked into their beds, I might get excited! I might wreck your car. Your insurance premium would skyrocket, all because I was thinking about little girls instead of thinking about driving. "And what if I parked? What if I parked your car in some no parking zone, in order to visit some little girl tucked into her bed? Why, I might be climbing through her window, as the police were towing away your car! "At least you have to give me credit for one thing though, Dad. Liking little girls, as I do, you won't ever have to worry about me getting anyone pregnant. "But you are correct not to loan me the car, Dad. It would be far better for me to spend this night honing my literary skills. Think of all the stories I could write, about naughty little girls, and how they get spanked, which teaches them to be good! What a waste it would be for me to be out driving around, in your car, when I could be in my bedroom writing sex stories? "Yes, now I know why the Bible teaches us, 'Honor thy Father and Mother'. Only the wisdom that comes with age, such as your age Father, would allow one to know that it is far better to be at home than out driving around in your car. "I am deeply impressed by you, Father. Who needs girls, anyway? Even little girls? Now that I am considering it, I really do think that I prefer boys. "I am going to go to my room, Father. And I am not going to think about girls, of any age. I am not even going to write sex stories. No, I am going to sit in my room and do my homework. By doing my homework, I can get good grades in school. By getting good grades, I can get a good job, and earn a good salary. Then I can go to San Francisco and become a scout master, and open a bath house, exclusively for little boys! "Thank you, Father, for not loaning me your car. To think that I might have been out cruising around, in your car, when I could be working hard, so that I could one day own my own bath house! "And that's not all: by being a successful businessman, I can be like Ross Perot! I can run for mayor of San Francisco, or even for President, buying lots of ads on T.V. I can tell everyone why I prefer to be a fag, and how my wise Father made all this possible. "Imagine: I will be sitting there, on Larry King Live. He will lean forward and say to me, 'Who do you thank for your success in life, owning your own bath house, and running for President as the candidate of the Cocktail Party?' "And, after correcting Larry King, telling him it's not the Cocktail Party but the Cock in the Tail party, I will say, 'My father.'" (If that doesn't get you the car, nothing will.)"Take off your shorts. Are you wearing panties underneath?" "How could I be?" Kate asked. She knelt erect on the bed and unsnapped her shorts and zipped them down. "I've seen some very small panties in my day," Ben smiled. "Have you ever been caned before?" "Caned?" Kate asked. With her shorts unzipped and her bush showing, she knelt on the bed and looked at him with her wide, girlish eyes, wondering if she shouldn't zip herself back up and make a break for the door. NAKED AT THE NEWSSTAND by Harold Hate "I hate my life, and yours too." (Special contributor) Perfect 10, Volume 1, Number 5, $6.95. Full color magazine, many pages. Published quarterly. Perfect 10, Box 469115, Escondido CA 92046-9115. Toll Free Phone: 1-888-338-7897. Web: http://www.perfectten.com Review: Gosh, it's Saturday night, and what am I doing? I'm sitting here looking at this fucking thing! "Perfect 10" claims it will pay $200,000 to the top female that it features in its magazine. And that's not all. "Perfect 10" will pay $100,000 to the female who comes in second, and $50,000 to the female who comes in third. There's just one problem. Increasingly, the females featured in "Perfect 10" are "Sports Illustrated"-type females. And you know what that means. They all look like 25-year-old housewives. If "Perfect 10" was featuring girls who were 12, or 14, (or even 8) I could see paying them $200,000. But $200,000 for a fucking housewife?! I don't buy the yearly Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition. All the "girls" in it are old. They have all been vaginally penetrated, anally penetrated, and have given numerous blow-jobs. Not once, but many, many times. I know this not by knowing the particulars of any specific girl in Sports Illustrated, of course, but through my study of various magazine articles on sex. This month's Playboy (the November 1998 "College" edition) reveals that most 18-year-old girls have had half-a-dozen sexual partners by the time they're 18. God knows how many sexual partners they've had by the time they're 25! The October 1998 issue of Club International features a very beautiful, very young centerfold girl. As I was looking at her I was shocked by this fact: her clitoris is pierced! So, in the case of this 18-year-old, she has not only been penetrated sexually in all the aforementioned places, she has even chosen to undergo the ultimate in piercing! As you can easily see, following the logic of my argument, NO 25-year-old "girl" is worth $200,000. A virgin might be worth $200,000, of course, but given the average age at which girls lose their virginity, this would necessarily mean that she was no older than 13. In my opinion, "Perfect 10" will soon be out of business. There is no reason to be paying the "girls" in this magazine $200,000. While the publisher is free to waste his money on 25-year-old housewives if he chooses, my guess is that he'll run out of money. Do you really think that a magazine that is shelling out money at this rate will still be around in 40 years? "Perfect 10" is a lousy magazine. Playboy does a much, much better job of photographing females than "Perfect 10" does. There is no comparison between a Playboy pictorial and a "Perfect 10" pictorial. Playboy is fun to look at. (Particularly the Newsstand Special editions.) Playboy engages the reader's imagination. "Perfect 10", on the other hand, resembles a women's underwear catalog. If "Perfect 10" wants to pay $200,000 to 25-year-old housewives, they are certainly welcome to. But I have bought this magazine twice now and, each time, found it to be quite boring. I do not plan to buy it again. BLACK EAGLE LADY by Will Dockery Lady's walking down South Seale Road, I hope she gets there soon. Lady's walking down South Seale Road, I hope she gets there soon. She sees flashing dollar signs, under the moon. Blame it on silk sheets on a silver blanket, or a valentine I did not buy. Blame it on silk sheets on a silver blanket, or a valentine I did not buy. I don't know her touch, although I recall it's quite fine. Her hair black as a crow, be careful though stones she throws. Her hair black as a crow, be careful though stones she throws. Teeth like a timber wolf, that's me, He wanders the archetypical frozen land. Spirit of the eagle, she's free. Every little word you speak, good sweet friend, it comes straight through to my mind, clear across town, clear across the river. AND IN THE END... STRANGER DANGER? "What I know about child homicides first of all we know there's a 12 to 1 probability that when we have a child murdered that it's done by a family member, or caregiver, or someone close to the child. Only 1 in 12 is committed by a stranger." - Gregg McCrary, retired Special Agent, F.B.I. (Charlie Rose, September 11, 1997.)

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/16675.txt