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New Eden 26

Ann Douglas

Cape And Cowl: The Erotic Adventures of Supergirl and Batgirl

"Mayday... Mayday... Mayday..." the pilot of the small jet said in a controlled voice as he struggled with the controls of the crippled aircraft. "This is Gotham Air Two-Zero-Niner declaring an emergency!" Those simple words brought fear to the heart of Jim Lee. In all his twelve years of flying, including almost a hundred combat missions during the Gulf War, he'd never had to declare an emergency. Three minutes ago, just as he'd made the leisurely turn that would line his plane up for the approach into Washington's National Airport, a sudden explosion had ripped through the starboard engine. Thousands of hours of flying time helped avert any sense of panic as he quickly increased power to the port engine and tried to keep the aircraft intact long enough to make an emergency landing. "Brace yourself," he said to the smartly dressed young woman who occupied the co-pilot's seat. "This is going to be a little rough," Lee added, trying to be reassuring. In the split second he had spared to look into the emerald eyes of his sole passenger, Captain Lee had been surprised to see no trace of fear in the redhead. It was as if the young woman faced life or death situations all the time, secure in her acceptance of an uncontrollable fate. In a way, it made him feel more secure as well. The last thing he needed right now was a hysterical right-seater. Glancing up from the instrument panel and then out the window, Jim's eyes fixed on the rapidly growing image of the Woodrow Wilson Bridge. Rapidly, he ran the numbers though his head, and a small smile filled his face. Once they cleared the bridge, which he judged they would be able to do, they were home free. "Almost there..." he said as the altimeter continued to drop. What measure of confidence he felt, evaporated in a second as the airframe suddenly rocked once again. Jerking his head to the left, a look of horror filled his face as he saw the small jagged hole that now appeared in the port engine. "Oh shit," he whispered, all color drained from his face. "We're not going to make it, are we?" the redhead said, no longer worried about breaking the pilot's concentration. Jim Lee's eyes glanced down at the now spinning altimeter and the bridge before them. They were dropping like a rock. It was no longer a matter of clearing the bridge. If anything, they'd be lucky if they didn't take out a dozen cars when they crashed into it. Resigned that there was nothing more that he could do, he turned and faced his passenger. No sound issued from his lips, but the look of resignation in his eyes was all the silent answer she needed. Just as quietly, the 26-year-old mouthed a prayer that the end would be instantaneous. Suddenly. Incomprehensibly. The encompassing view of the bridge suddenly dropped below the horizon as the small aircraft rose once more into the sky. It took a moment for the two of them to realize they were still alive. It was a dozen more heartbeats before they dared considered asking themselves how could they be with both engines destroyed. Before they could say a word to each other, they found themselves on the ground at National Airport. Instinct took over, and they quickly exited the aircraft, right into the arms of the emergency crews which were already surrounding it. "I guess it's safe now to ask..." the young woman said. "Why aren't we dead?" The answer came in the form of an athletic blonde-haired woman who walked out from under the damaged starboard wing. 5'7" and about 120 lbs, she wore a tight-fitting blue shirt which topped a red skirt and matching red boots. An equally bright red cape draped across her shoulders. Situated across her rounded breasts was an irregular red and yellow pentagon with a stylized "S" in it. "Supergirl!" the redhead exclaimed. "Are the two of you all right?" the Girl of Steel asked as she reached the front of the plane. "I didn't have much time to be gentle if I was going to keep you from becoming an unwelcome decoration on a National Monument." "We're fine, and thankful beyond words," Jim said as he stepped forward and extended his hand out in welcome. "Jim Lee, pilot and from now on, your number one fan." "That's better than any reward," Supergirl smiled as she accepted his outstretched hand. "And let me add my own thanks," the woman in the conservative business suit said as she reached out as well. "Barbara Gordon." Automatically, Supergirl shifted her attention to Barbara as she had done with a thousand thankful recipients before. Abruptly, the Kryptonian froze as she focused on the attractive young woman for the first time. Barbara noticed the sudden pause, unsure what to make of it. She waited a few moments, then asked. "Is something wrong?" "I'm sorry," Supergirl said, snapping out of her momentary daze. "I thought you looked familiar, that's all." "Maybe you saw me on CSPAN," Barbara replied. "Although as Gotham City's most junior Congresswoman, I usually get on opposite most of the late-night lineup." "Congresswoman Gordon, of course," Supergirl smiled. "I've read some of your speeches. They were very impressive." "I'm flattered," Barbara said. "Well, I'm just glad I was able to be here when you had your accident," Supergirl said as she began her own well-rehearsed speech. "The country needs people like you." "I'm glad you were as well," Barbara replied. "But I'm afraid it was definitely not an accident." "I don't understand," Supergirl said. "One engine exploding is an accident," Barbara explained. "Two is a statistical anomaly." With that, the Girl of Steel turned and focused her amazing vision on the twisted remains under both wings. Layer by layer, inch by inch, she surveyed the mangled metal. "I'm afraid you're right," she reported. "I'm picking up almost untraceable amounts of explosive residue. They'd be invisible under normal investigation." "I'd expect that," Barbara said, amazingly calm for someone discussing what was supposed to be the instrument of her own death. "If we'd gone down into the Potomac, as was undoubtedly planned, it would've been written up as a tragic, inexplicable accident." "You sound like you have a good idea who planted those explosives," Supergirl said. "Not enough to convince the FBI," the Congresswoman replied. "Not even with two other members of Congress having had similar, more fatal accidents in the last eight months." "Well, I'm not the FBI," Supergirl said, suddenly very interested. "Convince me." "I'm afraid I don't have any real proof," Barbara went on. "I just find it too coincidental that both of them and I were on that fact-finding trip to Qurac last year. The one that led to Congress's resolution condemning Qurac for exporting acts of terrorism." "Qurac, that's a nasty bunch," Supergirl noted. "But wouldn't simply blowing up your plane be more their style?" "That's true," Barbara agreed. "But what information I've been able to come by suggests that this is a contract job. A group of mercenaries led by a woman called the Crimson Rose." "I've heard of her," Supergirl replied. "As bad as the Quraci's are, she's worse." "Definitely," Barbara agreed. "And this is exactly her style. She wanted us to know that we were going to die. She gets off on the fear she creates in others." Supergirl took a few steps away, lost in thought for a few moments. She had only planned to be in Washington for a few hours, just long enough to drop off a heart for a transplant at George Washington University Hospital. Now she had a new goal. "If you're right, you can be certain that she doesn't suffer defeat gladly," Supergirl noted."In other words, I should expect another attempt... and soon." Barbara agreed. "Exactly," Supergirl said with determination. "And when they do, I'll be there." A look of concern flashed across Barbara's face. For some reason, the prospect of having the Girl of Steel as a bodyguard seemed to bother her. A strange reaction for someone whose life was in obvious danger. "I'm afraid that's not a good idea," Barbara said. "I can't really explain why, but I can't let people think I'm running away from what everyone tells me is an overactive imagination." The Congresswoman's heart was racing, Supergirl noted. A telltale sign that she was hiding much more than she was telling. Still, it was her business, her life. She couldn't be forced to accept a bodyguard. "I assume you don't have any objection to my spending a few days in Washington and taking a little look around?" Supergirl asked. "Of course not," Barbara smiled, a smile that hid many secrets. With that, the Maid of Might was gone. Ten minutes later, Supergirl found herself drifting among the clouds. Barbara Gordon had made quite an impression on her for a number of reasons. Even if there hadn't been an attempt on her life, she would've wanted to find some reason to spend a little time around Washington and try to get to know her better. Kara had been taken aback when she first saw the Congresswoman. Not that Barbara would have any way of knowing it, but she was almost a twin for Supergirl's first lover. At least what the Kryptonian thought her friend Zara would have looked like if she'd had the chance to grow into womanhood. Sadly, among all the children of Argo City, only Kara Zor-El, known to the people of Earth as Supergirl, had the chance to grow to adulthood. The children of Argo, like their parents, had died when the protective shield around their small spaceborne city had been shattered by a thousand meteor fragments some eight years past. Only her father's foresight to have constructed an escape rocket, patterned after the one that brought her cousin Superman to Earth years earlier, had enabled her to survive. It hadn't been easy adjusting to life on Earth. Unlike her cousin who had come to this alien world as an infant, Kara had lived the first 15 of her 24 years as a normal, that is non-super girl. Although taken to heart by the people of Earth as one of their super-powered protectors, Supergirl had felt apart from them in many ways, especially in those relating to love. Relationships are hard when you can, as the saying goes, bend steel in your bare hands. Actually, as Supergirl had corrected herself many times, it was difficult when you were a woman and had abilities far beyond those of mortal men -- or women. It had been almost two years since Supergirl had her last serious love, Susan Wienczorkowski. An officer on Metropolis's Special Crime Units, she had died in the line of duty while Kara was halfway around the world fighting a fire that had already devastated half a town in Germany. The loss had hit Supergirl hard, and for a time she blamed herself for not being there when it mattered. But with time, she finally accepted the counsel of her older and more experienced cousin. You can't save everyone, he constantly reminded her. Not even when the one you can't help is the one that matters the most. After that, Kara had little success with either men or women -- contenting herself with a series of meaningless flings. It was funny, she sometimes considered, how many of them had occurred with fellow costumed adventurers. It had to have something to do with the lifestyle. The most interesting of these brief relationships, she thought, had been with J'onn J'onzz. Known to the public at large as the Martian Manhunter, he was also an alien visitor to this world. With a compatible humanoid physiology, J'onn was perhaps the second most physically powerful man on the planet. Her cousin Kal occupied the first position. Unlike Superman, on whom she had once turned her x-ray vision on one night out of curiosity, J'onn had a 10" cock that was as thick as a baseball bat. That being the case, who cared if it was green? It had been fun while it lasted. The relationship had paled, however, outside of the bedroom. By Earth calendars, Kara had been 22 years old at the time. J'onn, according to those same human measurements, was almost a century old. They just couldn't relate to each other very well once they were out from under the sheets. Still, she ached for another relationship that would again send her heart afire with excitement. Whatever instincts she had, told her that Barbara was that type of woman who could do that. From the very first moment she had seen her, she seemed the embodiment of every woman she had ever desired. Even now she could still savor the scent of her perfume, a delightful flowery aroma that conjured up images of virgin gardens and lost summer nights. Of course, she reminded herself, there could be a dozen flaws in her thinking. On the top of the list, the very strong possibility that Barbara might not be interested in other women -- a very common trait for women of this culture. Unlike her native Krypton where gender was less important than feelings. But those were questions for later. First, she had to find the ruthless bitch who wanted to see her new infatuation dead. After thinking about it a few minutes, she knew exactly how to track her down. Soft as a feather, Kara set down on the top ledge of an apartment building across from the Quraci Embassy. By international law, the large red brick building just a few hundred feet away was protected by territorial sovereignty -- literally it was a piece of Qurac. Diplomatic immunity protected both the inhabitants and whatever secrets the hundreds of file cabinets within might contain. All of which meant absolutely nothing to the determined young woman standing in the warm afternoon breeze. The Quraci Embassy had been protected from unwanted surveillance by several million dollars' worth of security precautions, both human and electronic. All of this was useless against a person with x-ray vision, super-hearing, and almost unlimited patience. Floor by floor, office by office, Supergirl scanned each carefully guarded secret. In addition, every incoming and outgoing phone call was as clear as if Kara was an invited participant. It was only a matter of time before she found the particular secret she sought. Barbara Gordon finally returned to her apartment in downtown Washington. With the almost crash as the lead on the evening news, the FBI finally took an interest in the case. In fact, the President himself had called to ask about her condition. But all of it had been merely political showmanship. The agents who had interviewed her and Jim showed no real interest in her theories concerning the Quraci's. After all, to them she was still only a temporary Congresswoman, appointed to fill out an unexpired term. She hadn't even been elected in her own right. Rest assured, the men in the dark suits and sunglasses had told her, the entire resources of the federal government would be put behind the search for what really happened. Then they had sent her on her way, certain that their interest wouldn't last longer than the next day's evening news. Checking in with her office, Barbara had been likewise reassured by Tim Murray, the chief of staff she had inherited from the late departed Congressman Stephen Jefferson, that everything was under control and there wasn't even any need for her to stop by. For perhaps the hundredth time, Barbara promised herself that if she did manage to get elected in her own right in November, there were going to be major changes in that office. Right now, however, she had more important things on her mind. The people who wanted her dead were still out there. If she thought about it, she knew that any other member of Congress would've quickly gone into hiding, demanding FBI or Secret Service protection as they did. That wasn't her style. Barbara Gordon had fought her own battles all of her life. Most of them in situations that few of her colleagues could've ever imagined. Moving into the bedroom, the tall redhead quickly stripped off her business suit and the equally conservative undergarments beneath them. Standing in only her panties in front of the dresser mirror, the Gothamite was reminded that periods of extreme danger had always left her incredibly aroused. Today's near-fatal incident had been no different. Gently, she ran one hand across the lightly covered red bush between her legs while her other hand laid across her breasts. The lean athletic form the 26-year-old had worked so hard to develop back in high school and college was still very much in evidence. Her breasts weren't very large, but they stood on their own without support. Many times over the years, she'd been told they were near-perfect globes. She played with the pert nipples for a few moments, smiling as they sprang to life. They had always been very sensitive, and given her current state of arousal, it took only a soft touch to bring them to erectness. Barbara lost herself in the sensation of her own touch. Eyes tightly closed, she slid her hands down across her breasts one last time and over her flat stomach. Coming to a rest when they reached the small white triangle between her legs. Using both hands, she rubbed against the soft material. A soft sigh escaped her lips in response to her caress. Sliding her fingers beneath the waistband of her panties, she provided a deeper touch. Now Barbara's breaths came in shorter gasps as she slid first one, then two fingers inside of herself. In due time, a third finger would follow. Faster, deeper she rubbed, manipulating her clit and covering her long, slender fingers with her wetness.Eventually the small cloth of her underwear became too restrictive and was also discarded. A few more minutes of play brought forth a small but enjoyable climax. Yet in the quiet aftermath of her pleasure, she knew it to be an empty reward. She hadn't had a lover since leaving Gotham City some eleven months ago. Sure the work she was trying to do was important, she kept telling herself. More important than anything she could accomplish back home. Yet this was a strange city where being in the public eye meant you had little or no private life. There were times she regretted taking the appointment when it was offered to her. One of the most common times was when she crawled into bed each night alone. She had grown very tired of only having a piece of plastic and a few D cells as her only company. Not that there weren't a great deal of men around her all the time. She was, in truth, quite an attractive woman. But it hadn't taken more than a few innocent dates for her to learn that most of them were more interested in the Congresswoman in front of her name and what that title could do for them. Reluctantly, she had pushed her social life aside and concentrated instead on learning the ropes of her new job. Only to be checked at almost every turn by her own staff. "Give it time," they kept telling her. "You have to learn how to walk before you can run." Her social life wasn't the only thing Barbara had left behind in Gotham. Unknown to all but a select few, especially those who had proposed her selection to replace Congressman Jefferson, there was quite another facet of her personality. One which would have made them reconsider their opinion that she was a safe candidate that would simply toe the party line until they could get a professional on the ballot. "Screw them all!" Barbara shouted to the empty air as she finally lost her temper. A fiery rage flushed through her body as she stormed into the bathroom and turned on the hot water in the shower. A thousand thoughts raced through her mind as she stood under the rushing water, washing away the grime of the day's adventure. The central theme of her train of thought was that someone had tried to kill her today -- now what was she going to do about it. Quickly drying herself once out of the shower, she concluded that there was little that Congresswoman Gordon could do. That aspect of her personality, however, was quickly being replaced by a much older one -- one a great deal more dynamic. "I guess I wasn't making as much of a difference as I thought," the naked beauty thought as she stepped into the bedroom, realizing that she had already made her decision. Moving to the red brick wall that the builders had left when they remodeled the old building, Barbara reached up and pressed the center brick on the top row. Silent servos came to life as the brick wall separated in two, forming an entranceway to a concealed room beyond. When she had first made the decision to relocate to Washington, Bruce Wayne had offered her this apartment in one of the buildings owned by Wayne Enterprises. He had explained about the hidden room and how she could use it to hide that which she wanted to keep away from prying eyes. At the time, she'd laughed at the idea that she would drag her past along with her as she set out on what she termed a great adventure. Still, to humor Bruce, she had allowed him to set up the room in case she ever needed it. Now it seemed that Bruce had known her better than she knew herself. Not that she found that thought very surprising as she stepped into the inner chamber and the entrance closed behind her. People had been underestimating Bruce Wayne for twenty years. To the world at large, he alternated between the image of a playboy and the head of one of world's leading industrial giants. What few had ever saw, because he didn't wish them to see, was that beneath those dual guises he wore another mantle. The mantle of the bat. Bruce Wayne was the scourge of Gotham's underworld known as The Batman. As the lights of the small antechamber grew to life, the paraphernalia around her gave testament to the fact that like Bruce, Barbara had also worn the mantle of the bat. For the last few years, Barbara Gordon had been Batgirl. The room around her was almost an exact duplicate of the one she had designed herself in her original apartment back home. Bruce was good for that, recreating familiar surroundings. He'd even had the main rooms of his family's suburban estate recreated on the top floors of the Wayne Tower when he shifted his operations to downtown Gotham. A small dresser contained a collection of plain white sports bras and panties. Barbara had never really checked before but discovered that both were exactly her size. That was another thing that Bruce was really good at estimating. As she put them on, Barbara slightly regretted that she never really took the time to find out what else Bruce was really good at. Of course that was the state of arousal talking she knew. There was no way she could've had an affair with Bruce Wayne. Not after she'd already had a somewhat brief one with the junior partner of the Dynamic Duo - Robin. Adjusting the straps of her bra, Barbara remembered how nice it had felt to have the younger man in her bed those many mornings after they'd gone on patrol together. It was a pity that the relationship had faded after he left for college. "Time to put all those thoughts behind you," a little voice reminded her as she shifted into what she used to call "combat mode." With a practice that came back so naturally, Barbara quickly donned the purple and gold costume she had made what now seemed a lifetime ago. Of course this wasn't the same one she had worn on her first night as Batgirl. Batman had long ago replaced that uniform with one that incorporated the very latest in lightweight body armor. The soft feel of lycra against her chest brought back a rush of pleasant memories. How could she ever have thought she could leave all of this behind. Carefully she adjusted the gold utility belt around her waist. There was no need to check each compartment. She knew each one would contain a duplicate of what was in her original arsenal. That, or an updated improvement. Finally, to complete the transformation, Barbara reached for the tight purple and black cowl that rested on a styrofoam head. Back in her early days of the Darknight Damsel, she'd worn a long-haired red wig underneath the cowl to hide her own short locks. Now her own natural hair was more than long enough to take the wig's place. Once cowl and cape were securely locked in place, the transformed Congresswoman stood before the large full-sized wall mirror. "This is what I was born to do," she said to the reflection of the crime-fighter. "I'm never going to make the mistake of leaving it behind again."

Part One

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/10581.txt

Stephanie

It's Hard to be a Man

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

Part Nine

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/8065.txt

deirdre

Mouth

"Wow! You never told me your sister looks like *that*!" My wife's sister Sue had just come into town and brought her latest boyfriend. Apparently, he was one to speak his mind. "You look fantastic!" he went on, still addressing Judy, my wife. He was tall and obviously an outgoing person. "Do you know what I like *best* about you?" "Oh, Rob, stop teasing her," said Sue, "There's no stopping him," she said to us. "What do you like best?" asked Judy. "Your mouth. You have the most wonderful mouth." This was a little strange. "It is so perfectly shaped! And your lips! They're *fantastic*! Do you know what your mouth and lips are perfect for?" "What?" asked Judy. She seemed a little wary to me and a little taken aback. "For what *men like best*!" There was a pause and no one said anything. I was sure Judy was going to explode, and I waited like a statue, braced for it. Then she giggled. "Sorry about that," said Sue, "Obviously he's not housebroken yet." "I can see that!" said Judy, but she was still giggling. "What's the matter?" said Rob. "I just call it like I see it." "Right," said Sue, rolling her eyes at the same time. Rob was a little much for me--one of the louder and more abrasive people I'd ever met. He had a comment for everything throughout dinner, and I wondered how long Sue would be able to take him. After dinner, Sue and Judy got in conversation catching up, and I ended up entertaining Rob. "They sure are a couple of hot babes!" he said by way of making conversation, I suppose. "Yes, they are both very attractive." "You got *that* right!" I tried to think of a response to that. I suspected keeping up a conversation with Rob would be a challenge. After a pause, he went on "Did you ever do Sue?" "No, I never did!" "How could you keep your hands off her? What a pair of sisters! I bet Sue's been desperate when she was between boyfriends!" "Well, I've stuck with Judy." "Right! I got ya!" and he winked at me! Believe it or not, our conversation didn't rise much above that. Finally, we all got to talking some more, and I felt relieved even though the conversation was still a bit strange. I almost asked Judy what she thought of Rob when we went to bed, but figured I didn't want to listen to a harangue. I wondered what it was going to be like spending a day at the beach with them. But something made me look at Judy's mouth. No, we never do that. I think about doing it sometimes, but I could never imagine Judy going for it. That night, I woke up, and Judy wasn't there! "Judy," I said in a low voice and got no response. I got up without turning on the light and wandered out the door in the dark. Light was coming from the guest bedroom, and the door opened a bit, blinding me. When it was shut, I found Sue in the hall with me. "Everything all right?" I asked Sue in a low voice. "Oh, sure," said Sue. "Judy got up for something," I said. "Oh, it's that Rob! There's no stopping him!" said Sue. "Come here and look," she added, grabbing my hand and pulling me. She pulled me to the door and opened it a crack. Judy was in there! And kneeling in front of Rob with his cock in her mouth! I stared. Sue closed the door again. "Once he has something in his mind, you just have to get out of his way!" she said and giggled. I didn't know what to do. She just stood there as if she were waiting for me. Finally, I walked back into my room--it was like I was in a trance. I lay in bed, staring at the dark ceiling. I woke up the next morning to find Judy right there beside me--as if nothing had happened! We all ate breakfast, and no one said a single word about it! After breakfast, we drove down to the ocean. It was pretty crowded, but we had the chance to go in a bit as well as lay out. Rob was in and out of the waves the whole time. Judy and Sue sat and talked for a lot of the time. I got bored. Then we were leaving. "Yep, that Judy's really something!" Rob was babbling on as we walked through the parking lot, but this caught my attention in light of the previous evening's activities. "You've got the mouth of an *angel*!" he went on, directing his comment to Judy. "Don't listen to him!" said Sue, giggling. "I *mean* it! Dan knows, don't you?" Now *what* was I going to say to answer *that*? "Yes--she's *very* pretty," I volunteered. We were approaching our car. "Sure she's a knockout. But I mean the way she sucks cock!" Judy gasped, and Sue giggled again. This was unbelievable! I just stared. "Come, let's show them," he went on. We were at the car. He pulled Judy by the hand over next to the car--between it and a minivan parked next to it. Then he pushed down on her shoulders, inducing her to kneel. They were still both in their suits--Judy in a bikini. He pulled off his suit, and his cock sprang out there right in front of her face. She didn't look at me at all but just knelt there looking at his cock. There weren't people right there in the parking lot, but it was pretty open--anyone could come toward us. "Easy now, girl, you can do it," he said, and he pulled her head toward his cock. Right out there in daylight, in the parking lot! I looked around nervously. She had him in her mouth and was sucking away. Sue just watched and smiled. I couldn't help but nervously look around for anyone coming. She went on and on, sucking him. He looked down at her and smiled. I couldn't stand watching it. "Isn't she good?" he finally said. Then he started grunting and spasming, and it was obvious that he was coming. She just kept sucking. "She's a great little cocksucker--a *real talent*," he went on. Judy stood up. She looked a little nervous and didn't look at me at all. "Well, I think she has a *lot to learn*," volunteered Sue. "Well, she isn't as accomplished as *you* but she certainly has potential." "I'll show you *real* cocksucking," responded Sue. Immediately, she was on her knees in front of Rob. In seconds, she had her one-piece peeled off and around her knees. I stared at her body--her naked breasts. Rob approached her, and she went right for his cock with her mouth. He grabbed her hair and started fucking like crazy. I couldn't believe how much they moved--he was slamming into her face! She more-or-less hung on for dear life. She had her hands folded behind her back. He was jerking more and more until he obviously came again. I couldn't take my eyes off them. Judy was watching them too. When he was done, he collapsed against the car, and she collapsed into sitting on the ground. They just stayed like that, catching their breath for a minute. Then they pulled on their suits and got in the car! Judy wouldn't look at me that evening--I never talked to her once even though we all had supper together. That evening, Judy and Rob disappeared into the guest bedroom. I didn't go up there. They were there for hours til past time to go to bed. Sue and I watched TV, not saying much. Finally, I headed for the bedroom without Judy. Sue followed me. "She just wants to learn," said Sue. She sensed that I didn't like all this. She left, and I went to bed. As soon as I had the light out, the door opened, and someone slipped in. I turned on the light again by the bed. It was Sue. She was in a nightie, and she slipped into bed in Judy's place and reached over me and turned out the light again. I lay there thinking. "It's just a little *change* for her," said Sue as she lay there. "She's going to know new things." I didn't answer but still stared at the dark ceiling. She reached over and took my hand. "Hold me, please," she said. I finally looked at her in the dark. We kissed for a minute. Then she drew back and lay on her back next to me. She said quietly "please?" I still stared at the ceiling--I couldn't do it. I held her in my arms part of the night, but that was all. The next morning, Rob and Sue were gone. Judy was making breakfast when I woke up. She said good morning when I came down as if nothing had happened. "Judy..." it was my first word of the morning, and she turned, sensing I was disturbed. She put her finger over her lips to quiet me. "You liked it with Sue, didn't you?" she asked, with a little smile. "She's nice," I replied. "Let me..." she started talking, but stopped. Then, with a little smile, she knelt at my feet and started opening my pants. I gently pushed her away. She ended up sitting on her ass with her arms out behind her to lean on.She looked up at me, confused. We're pretty comfortable together again now, but I've never let her touch my cock with her mouth. But I think about it.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/7649.txt

Mesmer

MOTHER & DAUGHTER ACT

"She just has no confidence in herself whatsoever," the anxious mother said to James Brady, a psychologist, on the other end of the phone. "I can't even get her to go out with her girlfriends, let alone out on an actual date with a boy! I'm so worried about her! And now her schoolwork has started to get worse as well. Can you help me do you think?" James let out his breath slowly between his teeth, timing it nicely with the end of the worried woman's sentence. The smile came easily to his voice with his standard, but genuine answer. "Yes, Mrs. Rogers. I'm sure I can help your daughter," James answered. "But I'd like to see you both, if that's alright with you? Just for a general chat first, sort of get an unobtrusive overview without your daughter actually knowing it. Would it be possible to convince your daughter with a white lie by saying that 'you' were coming to see me for some nerves or something?" "That's not far from the truth, anyway!" Mary Rogers answered. God knows she felt like she was going to lose her mind with the way her daughter just sat in her room all day long or moped about the house, tripping over her bottom lip. "Yes. I don't think that's a problem. It's a good idea, actually. I'll get her to think that she's just keeping me company. How will that be?" "That will do nicely, Mrs. Rogers," James answered with a smile in his voice. "When would you like to make an appointment, and what time would suit you?" "Ummmm. How about tomorrow? Would you have a time free about ten o'clock in the morning?" she asked. "I'll juggle a couple of appointments, Mrs. Rogers," James told her. "Shouldn't be a problem at all." "Oh, thanks, Doctor Brady!" she said. "I hope I'm not inconveniencing you." "Not at all, Mrs. Rogers. Not at all. And please, call me James," he replied. "Thank you. My name is Mary," she responded. "Thank you, Mary," James said. "I'll see you tomorrow at ten. Bye for now." "Good bye Doctor Bra...err..James," she said. Doctor James Brady hung up the phone smiling, confident he would be able to help both daughter and mother. Most women were their own daughter's problems at the best and the worst of times. Usually if he managed to help one, he would end up helping the other, usually the one who did not seek the help in the first place.one relaxing deeper level at a time ... relaxing and sleeping ... deeper and deeper ... with each level you go deeper down ... when I count to three ... and snap my fingers ... One ... two ... three." James snapped the fingers on both hands at the same time. The fingers on his right hand snapped directly beside Mary's left ear, and the fingers on his left hand snapped directly beside Julie's right ear. He watched Mary's reaction first, as her shoulders sagged as she exhaled. Her hands fell a little sideways and she seemed to sink more deeply into the big chair. He turned then to observe Julie. Her shoulders too had sagged and rounded forward. Her head was now leaning forward slightly toward her chest, with her arms resting loosely on her lap, just touching. James smiled, and then left them in silence. He had deliberately not told them how many levels to go down, hoping in his silence they would take themselves down to whatever deep level they felt they wanted to explore, just to see if they could relax as much as possible. Time alone with their thoughts and their imaginations now was the most important thing he could allow them to spend. Mary Rogers had never felt this relaxed in her life before. She had started to think that maybe she should stay alert and listen to what he was saying, just in case he needed her help with Julie, but after taking the escalator down to each deeper level, just like at the shopping mall, she just couldn't be bothered trying. It was simply too relaxing in what she was doing and feeling. Besides, James seemed like a perfectly capable person. She was sure he wouldn't need her help. After all, he could always wake her up, she decided, and then she stepped back on the escalator and allowed herself to drift down deeper again into the peace and relaxation of the deep, comfortable chair that seemed to be wrapping its soft, velvet arms around her and cuddling her like a baby to its mother's bosom. Julie had started out listening to what James was saying to her mother, determined not to really pay it any mind, even when he pointed to the little red spot on the ceiling he wanted her mother to stare at. She had tried looking elsewhere and had begun to stare at the paintings of the waterfalls around the office walls of soft, green paint. But when he had begun to talk of relaxing, and speaking so slowly and in a strange way, she couldn't help but listen. Julie knew she was relaxing very deeply. She hadn't been tired, but she had felt it wash over her when he had first started speaking. After that, she had felt really calm and relaxed. So, she decided it wasn't going to hurt if she eavesdropped on her mother's therapy. Two for the price of one, she had smiled to herself. When the doctor had asked her mother to choose a way of relaxing more deeply, Julie had chosen a long and winding set of stairs, just like she had seen in the movie, 'Gone with the Wind," when Scarlett O'Hara came gliding slowly and gracefully down the long and curving staircase. And the more she imagined it the deeper she felt herself sinking into her own peace and relaxation. Everything else seemed to have faded away, except his voice. Even that seemed softer at times. She would have to listen harder, but it seemed to be taking too much effort, and Julie was now beginning to feel very, very sleepy and tired. James let his gaze wander slowly between both women, satisfied with the way each appeared to be relaxing, just by the look on their face and their facial features. Mary's mouth had a slight, loose smile on it, while Julie's had opened slightly. Her head now hung even more forward than it had before. He decided to allow them a little more time to deepen themselves in their own way before he locked their thoughts into the sound of his voice, and his voice alone. Time was always on everybody's side, he thought, in his business, at any rate. After several more minutes of trained and calm patience through years of experience, James continued with his induction of the two women. It had been his plan from the beginning to trance both of them down. He always did whenever he had both mother and daughter together because the problem of one was usually the problem of the other. He began with a gentle command. "I wonder if you can see ... and feel ... and experience ... your special place ... all around you now ... so warm ... and so relaxing where ... you're all alone ... and you're very safe ... and it's very peaceful ... and you feel so private ... The place where ... you always go to ... in your mind ... when you ... want to be alone now ... with your thoughts ... you can now feel yourself ... in that familiar place ... so warm ... and so safe ... and so very protected from the world ... and all of the situations .... and all of the people you'd ... rather not see or be with ... as you experience your complete aloneness now ... alone in your special place ... with only the sound of my voice ... soft and soothing you ... helping you relax ... even more deeply than ... you are relaxed and calm right now ... your special place ... all alone and private ... so very, very private ... and safe ... and protected ... with only the sound of my voice." His scrutinizing gaze travelled from one tranced woman to the other - checking both closely for trance depth. Mary seemed deeper than Julie. Then he decided on his next plan. "It's beautiful where you are ... so peaceful and so private ... alone and so safe ... and so relaxed and calm ... hearing only the sound of my voice ... and you can come here anytime ... with the soft, soothing sound of my voice ... and the sound of your trance key, 'sleep time.'... and the sound of my voice ... soft, and soothing ... to your special place ... when you hear your trance key, 'sleep time.' ... whenever you want feel safe and alone ... warm and very, very private ... with the sound of my voice ... and hearing your trance key ... wherever you are ... whatever you're doing ... when you hear your trance key ... you will want to come back here ... with the soft, soothing sound of my voice ... saying your trance key, 'sleep time.' ... which you can forget now ... because your unconscious mind will remember ... your trance key is the sound of my voice ... saying your trance key, 'sleep time,' ... which you can forget now ... because your unconscious mind will remember ... what you have forgotten already ... because it never existed ... only in your dreams ... and in your unconscious mind ... to allow you to come here instantly ... whenever you hear ... the sound of my voice ... saying your trance key, 'sleep time.' ... that you can't remember now ... even if you try ... and the more you try ... the more you don't want to ... remember something you didn't even notice in the first place." That should do it, James decided as he stared hard at both women in turn. Then he slowly woke them up refreshed and alert to the count of ten. They both blinked and rubbed their eyes. Julie stretched while her mother yawned and continued blinking. "Oh!" Mary said dreamily. "Did I fall asleep?" She couldn't remember. She tried for a moment, but nothing at all came to her except how great she felt-relaxed and alert, refreshed as if she'd just woken up from a deep and relaxing sleep. Then she smiled. She probably did. "I think I might have too," Julie agreed dreamily with her mother as she stretched her arms high above her head again. "I had a nice dream though, But I can't seem to remember it. It was nice though. I remember that." What was it? Julie questioned herself as she gazed at her mother's relaxed and calm face. Julie noticed she hadn't seen her mother look as relaxed as that for as long as she could remember. Julie puzzled over why she couldn't remember a dream she'd just had only minutes before. She could always remember her dreams for a few minutes after awakening of a morning. She shook her head and forgot about trying anymore. She felt too relaxed and calm. "Sleep time," James tested them both, then waited. "What?" Mary said, feeling her eyes grow extremely heavy. Her body seemed to then sink quickly inside itself as she sank deeply into the soft, velvet chair. Julie heard the doctor say something and turned to ask him what he'd said. She noticed her mother's eyes close quickly. But that was all. Her own eyelids were feeling heavy. So heavy. So tired. Too much effort to keep them open. So she didn't. She just gave herself up completely and surrendered to the wonderful, relaxing feelings and sensations washing over her body from her head to her toes. James watched Julie's head fall slowly forward toward her chest as she lost the battle to keep her eyes open any longer. Mary had succumbed very quickly. She was probably a natural at relaxing, he thought as he checked each them visually again for several minutes each. Now for the big finish and the final part of the induction, he decided. And then, the test. He began a little more quickly now so their conscious mind wouldn't get in the road of their unconscious accepting everything without having any time to be questioned. They were both too relaxed and tranced down anyway. Julie's chin was almost touching her chest. "Back deeply involved in your special place .. with only the sound of my voice..all alone and safe..away from everyone...even your own thoughts...because it's too tiring to think ... when you can listen to me ... soft and soothing you .. relaxing you .. caring for your needs .. and you like your needs cared for ... to be looked after so well ... so warmly and so gently ... just as you like ... that nobody else can do ... when you listen to me ... and feel so wonderful and so alone and safe .. and listen to me ... who makes you feel this way ... and takes you to your special place ... where you're alone and safe ..."and wanting to stay here and be looked after, with all of your needs, all of your desires, all of your wants. When you listen to me, just as you like, just as you want, those special needs, those secret needs, those private needs. Listen to me, care for your needs, just as you asked, care for your needs, just as you wanted, just as you need to listen to me and do what I say, and care for your needs, your private needs, your secret needs. Listen to me, do what I say, your needs will be cared for, you will be happy, just as you wanted. That's why you came - your needs will be cared for, just as you wanted. That's why you came - to listen to me, let me tell you what to do, to care for your needs, just the way you wanted. That's why you came - to satisfy your needs, your private needs, your secret needs. Relax and enjoy now, relax and enjoy now, care for your needs, just as you wanted. Relax and enjoy now, say nothing now, relax and enjoy now, care for your secret needs, relax and say nothing. Everything is perfect and natural, just as you wanted. That's why you came - to relax and enjoy, relax and enjoy, relax and enjoy, relax and enjoy, and do exactly as you're told. Do exactly as you're told. Do exactly as you're told, relax and enjoy, relax, relax. James fell silent for several minutes and waited until they had sorted themselves internally and accepted the thoughts from their unconscious minds as their own. He could feel his pulse quicken with his heartbeat as it always did before the final test in cases like this, but he loved it. God, how he loved the thrill of the challenge. To James Brady, there was no challenge like no challenge. Mary accepted everything as sounding like so much common sense. That's why she had come to him. Of course it was. To have her secret and private needs met. It had been so long. And she had so many needs that all needed to be met. One of her better ideas. She felt so wonderful and so warm, in her special place that only she knew about. Julie knew she needed her needs to be met. She tried herself, often, but never quite got there. She wasn't even sure if she knew how to do it properly. But she felt it was time. It was the perfect time. She was in her special place. Nobody could reach her here, or tease her or put her down. She was an adult here, and soon, she would be a woman, just like she always wanted to be. She smiled. James saw Julie's smile and smiled himself. He checked Mary and saw she seemed perfectly and completely involved in the thoughts and suggestions he had placed in her unconscious mind and then was given back to her conscious mind in her imagination. "You will only hear the soft, soothing sound of my voice when I say your name," he told them soothingly, caressingly, sensually. "You will hear me speaking only when I say your name. If I say another name, you will deafen your ears and not hear. If I say another name, you will be deaf to what I'm saying and not hear anything. It won't be important unless I say your name. I will not be talking to you unless I say your name - you will not hear a single word." Then he checked them again for several minutes while the minds did the job he had told them to do. Then his heart jumped and his pulse raced steadily as his hands began to move off his lap. His right hand reaching toward Mary, his left hand reaching toward Julie. "Julie?" he began with her first. "You can believe now that you want to willingly accept and obey everything I say to you, without question and without doubt, believing everything I say to you is perfectly natural and right and correct in every way, in order to have your secret and most private needs met and satisfied in every way, which is why you came and what you really want. Isn't that true?" James watched Julie closely. Her head slowly nodded. "Yes," she mumbled into her chest. He smiled. Then he repeated the same words to Mary in exactly the same way and watched her just as closely. "Yes," she said dreamily, nodding her head. "Julie? Stand up carefully now, take off every bit of clothing you are wearing, and then sit back down so that you're very comfortable. Do you understand?" "Yes," Julie nodded. She realized that she couldn't have her secret needs met if she had her clothes on. She knew that. Slowly she rose up from the chair, knowing she would have undressed anyway in a moment or two, when she'd thought of it. And she knew she would have. She reached behind her back and undid the zipper of her dress, sliding it all the way down to her lower back. Then she slipped it off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. Her hands quickly found the clasp of her bra and released it, feeling really wonderful as her full, ripe young breasts fell loose and free. She could already feel the stiffening of her nipples. Her thumbs then hooked beneath the band of her white panties and dragged them down over her thighs. The inner heat she was feeling now in her lower belly was a familiar one, but this time, she would reach her goal. After stepping out of her underwear, she sat back down in the chair, but more comfortably this time. Her neck had been straining the way she had been sitting before. Now her head was relaxed, but straight, and the heat was slowly working its way upward from the junction of her thighs to her breasts and nipples. She could feel them already simmering with expectation of the moment she had been waiting for, for so long. James was hard from the strip-tease show he had just witnessed at very close range. Julie's full, jutting breasts were a delight to rest his appreciative eyes upon. And the thick, black widow spider curled up at her apex just begged for his special attention. But for the moment it would have to wait. He had Mary stand up and undress next. Mary's breasts, although sagging just a little, were still a sight to turn on any man who lay eyes upon them. When she peeled down her panties over her hips, James received a beautiful eyeful of her bottom: two creamy cheeks of soft, white flesh with a deep, dark crease that would soon be receiving his fullest attention. When Mary sat back down in the recliner, her lush, thick, curly bush attracted his instant attention and hardened him more than he thought would be possible. "Julie?" he commanded her gently. "Spread your legs as widely as you comfortably can and then begin to gently masturbate." Julie's heart pounded against her ribs. It was beginning. She lifted her feet from the floor and moved them very widely apart, until she was comfortable. God, she felt sexy. Her soft fingers found her center and dipped inside, then began a circling motion over and up and down her crease. Her pleasure mounted rapidly. Her breathing was already sounding like panting to her own ears, which made her feel even more sexy than she already did. "Mary? Bring your feet up to the chair and open your knees as widely as you can and then begin to masturbate." Mary heard him say it to her. She moved without even thinking about it. It had been so long. She drew her feet up and rested them on the edge of the soft, velvet chair. Then she widened her knees, feeling the gentle coolness invade her openness, heating her expectation of having her needs met so fully. Her hands knew exactly where to go to find the center of her pleasure. Her long, slim fingers dipped very slowly and very deeply, then her right fingers continued their slow penetrating action while the fingers of her left hand began to circle her soft crease until she could hear her own soft moans slowly and gently escaping from her mouth. She felt hot and flushed with excitement and pleasure and knew from experience she was well on the way to going over the edge. James watched, feeling a little sad for a moment that women had to suffer so, simply because of the psychological restraints that society and their parents and peers placed in their minds as they grew to sexual maturity. No woman should have to suffer the aloneness of being unfulfilled, he thought. It simply wasn't fair when there were so many men and so many ways to develop and fulfill that aloneness. "Julie?" he said softly to her. "Stop what you're doing and pay the same attention to your breasts and nipples. I'll finish what you started now, while you just enjoy." Almost immediately he continued. "Mary? Stop what you're doing and pay attention to your breasts. I'll finish what you started while you just enjoy." James saw both women carry out his instructions instantly and reached out with his hands going in opposite directions for both of them. Julie's breasts felt wonderful in her gentle hands. Her nipples were stiff and hard and stinging. They felt full, as if she had milk in them, but she knew that wasn't possible. Her heart hammered against her rib cage. Her pulse throbbed in each nipple and in the depth of her soft, swollen crease. She sucked in her breath rapidly when she felt the warmth and solidity of something begin to gently slide up and down her wet, aching wet cleft, then sighed loudly as she welcomed the waves of pleasure that torched upward instantly from the touch of another person's hand. Mary had never felt happier. Her breasts had always felt nice and full to her own touch. All the men she'd ever allowed to make love to her, including her ex, had told her what sexy breasts she had. She moaned deeply the instant she felt the warm fingers begin to paint her crease with invisible paint, stroking gently up and down, from the depths of darkness between her buttocks, to the throbbing, flaming shaft of her swollen jewel of pleasure.She moaned again as the warm fingers began to circle her and dip gently inside her in a rhythmic action. Her buttocks relaxed and her thighs widened their acceptance of the incredible waves of pleasure and rapture that were rapidly racing her mind, her senses, and her burning body all the way to the top of passion's mountain. Mary closed her eyes tightly in readiness for the blissful fall from the top she knew she was about to fall from. James worked the gentle fingers of both his hands methodically and yet lovingly on the warm, wet creases of both mother and daughter at the same time. He could see they were both only seconds away from reaching their peak. They were both moaning deeply and panting fast, and as their hips and buttocks lost control and began to jerk and convulse uncontrollably, he deepened his grasp on the center of them both and took firm hold of each of their swollen jewels between his fingers and thumbs and squeezed, in gentle, but repetitive grasps of pressure. That did it for both of them, yet he relentlessly kept up the alternating pressure of his gentle pressure-squeezing as they both writhed against his sensuous actions on their most private core. Julie's senses deserted her when she felt her most secret place grasped quite firmly. She heaved upward without conscious thoughts of her actions. Her consciousness of who she was and what world she actually lived in deserted her completely when she felt the constant squeezing of her most secret place begin. She felt her hips begin to shudder beyond her own control, yet knowing they were her hips and buttocks that danced to the tune of her own happening pleasure. Julie opened her mouth to scream her rapture to whatever world she was in, but no sound passed over her swollen lips. Her breasts flamed, with each nipple singing its torching sensations to the angels in the heaven she was sure she was in. Her loins exploded again and again, over and over, wave after burning wave in a volcano of absolutely incredible sensations that ran torrid flames of pleasure relentlessly and repeatedly up and down her spine, which continued and flamed again and again with each squeeze she experienced on her writhing and twisting volcano's erupting core. The floodgates of Julie's inner pent-up passion and private undiscovered, but always felt raw lust opened and closed repeatedly, emptying their sensually toxic wine and slick nectar, cooling her overheated young channel of fire. Julie crushed her own young breasts in her now, not-so-gentle hands, twisting them, pulling them away from herself, grasping each burning nipple and merging it into the flesh of her own tumultuous grasp, heightening unknowingly her elation sensing all pain as nothing but rapturous bliss and heaven-sent pleasure to the waiting receptors of her rapidly failing conscious mind. Then slowly, but surely, the myriad of beautiful, swirling colors of Julie's new world of rapture and heavenly bliss began to dim as she felt, rather than saw her own lights to that wonderful world go out and extinguish completely. As her consciousness slowly deserted her, all Julie could sense in her rapidly failing awareness was the warm and constant pressure on her private core. Her last thoughts of lucidity before her world went completely dark was of the relentless, repetitive, and absolutely glorious pressure she could feel over her whole body at the same time. The pressure...the pressure..the pressure...... Unaware of her daughter's situation, Mary knew she had lost control. She felt herself fall off the high mountain of her own rapturous pleasure with the very first squeeze of her flesh. After that, she had not stopped falling. She tumbled in her mind, over and over as wave after wave of burning heat and pressure enveloped her mind and senses completely. Mary knew not where she was, or what time in her life she had reached. Mary only knew her body was on fire, being torched again and again, over and over with each squeeze of her throbbing, slick flesh, spinning crazily out of control and not caring. She existed only in each blissful and consummate moment of pressure and nowhere else. She was aware of the uncontrollable actions of her hips and thighs, and knew she was only along for the ride. Her mind sang with the heavens above as the waves of burning heat and fire burned into each and every nerve in her spine, from the depths of her flaming buttocks to the stem of her mindless mind. Mary's inner dam burst, flooding her flesh from within, over and over, like the tides of no return. She groaned in her own voice that she didn't even recognize. Her vision beneath her tightly closed eyelids began to go grey. And it was at that point, with her own hands wringing the fire from each of her breasts and nipples that Mary knew, somewhere in the dark recesses of her remaining awareness that she was about to faint from her sensual and very personal euphoria. And then, suddenly, as if someone turned out her lights, she simply did exactly that, falling rapidly into the warm, dark depths of her inner existence. There existed a slight mist in James' eyes as he held the women firmly, watching each lose their battle to remain conscious for the last time, each losing the battle, yet winning their own individual war for release from themselves and their daily world of restrictions as they saw it moment by moment. He blinked, and then smiled warmly at them both, one after the other, then slowly released the now-gentle grasp he had between the warm, wet crease of both. For several moments in time he simply sat there gazing lovingly at them, wondering what their dreams of that very moment would be, and knowing in his heart that wherever they found themselves, they were sure to be happy. He reached down to the tissue box and gently cleaned between the thighs of both mother and daughter, from the depths of their buttocks to the base of each swollen shaft of womanhood he had held so lovingly and so nurturingly for them both in their conscious absence. Then he rose and placed the tissues in the wastebin which lay out of sight from his patients in his small kitchen. He returned to sit comfortably between them once again, smiling a smile he knew they would each be feeling in the depths of their comforting dreams. He readied his mind for their return to a world he believed they would now, both be much more happy existing and living in from this moment forward in time. "Julie?" he said softly, yet firmly. "Open your eyes, but remain fast asleep. Get dressed now and compose yourself. Do your hair and go to the kitchen and freshen your eyes, but not your face." James watched as she did exactly what she had been told to do. In ten minutes she sat upright beside him looking as she did when she had first sat down there. Then he repeated the exact same wording to Mary, who rose lazily, but did exactly as she'd been told also. He looked at both, one after the other, carefully scrutinizing each of them for anything that could be construed as different in their appearance since arriving that morning. He saw nothing. "Julie?" he began her awakening. "Listen now to each word I say. You will awake in a moment, remembering nothing consciously of what you have experienced. You will not want to consciously remember, because that way, your memories will always come to you in your dreams, so you can remember then and enjoy them over and over again. Do you understand?" "Yes," Julie answered dreamily, with a sleepy smile on her face. "You will awake to a different view of the world and of yourself as a woman. You will be aware of yourself in every way as a privately sensual woman from this point onward and willingly seek the excitement and adventure, through studies and socializing, interacting with all amiably and cooperatively, including your mother, in whatever you find yourself doing or thinking at the time. You will take your happiness wherever you may find it and remember to care for yourself, your mind with its schooling, your body with its health and growth, and your reputation as a woman and your mother's only daughter at all times. And you will be happy and content, knowing that the woman you have been waiting for to arrive in your mind and body has now fully come to you in every way, exactly as you always dreamed she would. Do you understand?" "Yes," Julie answered a little more clearly. "When I count to three and snap my fingers, you will feel such a freshness about yourself, such a newness, it will be hard not for you to smile, and keep smiling at your newfound happiness for as long as the feeling remains within you. Do you understand?" "Yes," She heard herself say. Julie felt reborn. She felt her back straighten and her chin lift. She was different. She could feel it, and she knew it now. She really knew it. She had now become a woman, in every way. James smiled as he noticed Julie's stance change. "Mary?" he began with her now. "In a few moments, I am going to count to three and snap my fingers. When I do that you will find yourself instantly awake, feeling as if your mind and body have just been washed clean and crystal clear in a cool mountain stream. You will feel healthy and happy, better than you've felt for a very long time. You will awake with a different attitude toward yourself and all others, including your daughter, accepting her now for the woman you know she will become in the fullness of her time, just as you have now discovered that same woman within you. You will be lonely no longer and will seek to form new friends with the awareness of your new sensuality brimming within you at all times, yet always retaining the respect for yourself that you would want your daughter to develop for herself." Mary heard each word and knew they were true. Something inside her had changed.She could feel it already. She realized then that it was she who could determine her happiness and not leave it in the hands of known or unknown others. She smiled. James smiled again, as he always did just before he woke them up, and, as he always would in the future. He liked his job. Of that there was no doubt whatsoever in his mind, or regarding the ethics of how he went about that job. He hurt no one and helped many. And his reasoning had not changed in many years - happiness was everybody's God-given birthright, and everybody had a right to access it within themselves, or be helped, knowingly or unknowingly to achieve the same desired result. He gazed at the looks on their faces, different from when they had first come in. They were different, and they had him to thank. And sadly, they would never know - not while they were awake that is. He grinned as he took his booking notepad out of his pocket for when they would tell him they were coming to see him next. "One... Alert and fresh. Two... Feeling very healthy and very happy. Three!" Another Happy Ending (by Mesmer) HYPNOSIS/MIND-CONTROL "PANIC ATTACK - THE CURE!" (by Mesmer) (C) Chapter I He was a therapist of long-standing, having been psychoanalyzing mainly distressed and neurotic women now for almost ten years. And, he was bored. All of his original well-intentioned values were still there, of course, but he had known for a long time it was time for him to move on. But to what he wasn't quite sure. He had researched everything that had ever interested him, including hypnosis and mind-control, and, although the prospect fascinated him, he rarely had the opportunity, let alone the confidence to try any sort of experiment with any of his patients, in spite of all the books and published articles telling him that hypnotic amnesia was easily induced. A knock sounded on the door to his office. It would be Diane, he thought, as he glanced at his watch. He rose from behind his desk and walked to the door, opening it quickly and allowing Diane, a reasonably attractive dark-haired woman in her mid-forties, to walk through and inside. He closed the door and returned to his desk, watching her as she sat down in the chair opposite him. "How can I help you, Diane?" he asked, allowing his gaze to take in her obviously distressed state. "I'm having... panic attacks," she said hesitantly, then lowered her eyes to stare idly at his desk. Yes, she was, he thought, recognizing all of the classic signs of severe and acute anxiety. This shouldn't take long, he decided, not really wanting to know her history, knowing he could fix her problem and brighten up her otherwise depressing day. He decided to get straight into it. Then he stopped himself in mid-thought, not sure whether it was his own slight depression at his future direction, or the look of sheer helplessness on Diane's face as she sat opposite him and just continued staring at the desk in front of him. Diane wasn't sure she had done the right thing in coming to a therapist. She knew she wasn't crazy, but she also knew she might be if she didn't somehow get rid of these damn panic attacks. They caused her to freeze, sure that something disastrous was about to happen if she didn't just stop dead in her tracks and wait for it to pass. But it had started to become a little embarrassing in the supermarket of late. Her friend had suggested a therapist, and this one had been the closest she had been able to find. "Diane," she heard him say to her. She looked up and into his eyes, forcing herself for some reason. Whenever she was having one of these attacks, she just couldn't bring herself to look at anybody directly without a great deal of difficulty, and smiling was simply right out of the question. Her face felt like it had been stretched taut over her bones and that to smile would surely cause it to crack. His eyes were warm and friendly. "I believe I can help you very quickly with hypnosis. Would you like to try?" he asked her. Hypnosis, Diane thought. Mind-control. That's all I need. What the hell, she then thought. She couldn't go on having these panic attacks. Her life would just fade away completely. "If you think so," she replied. "I just want them to stop." So far so good, he thought as he opened his laptop with the spiral program on it. He started the program and turned the computer screen to face Diane opposite him, noticing her eyes glance quickly down at it and then back at him. "Just relax and try to find the very center of the spiral," he told her, watching her eyes drop quickly once again to the screen in front of her. "And notice how your breathing is already slowing as you watch the screen and try to find the center." Diane did as she was told and tried to find the center of the spiral. It was impossible. It didn't have one. Every line of inward-turning spiral just seemed to disappear into nothing and be replaced by another which also disappeared into nothing. She did notice, however, that her breathing had slowed a little, just as he said it would. And she felt a little more relaxed than she had when she first arrived. "Just allow yourself to take time out," he told her smoothly, warmly. "Allowing yourself to just keep gazing at the center wherever you try to see it, and you'll soon feel the weight of your own body on the chair, and when you feel the weight of your own body on the chair, you'll know you're becoming more and more hypnotized as you feel the relaxation washing over you from the top of your head to the tip of your toes." Diane did as she was told, and soon she really did notice how heavy she felt in the chair. Her arms and legs felt as heavy as lead. And her thighs and buttocks felt huge and weighty. She still hadn't been able to find the center of the spiral, but she was feeling more and more relaxed with each passing second. He had a nice voice, but strangely it now seemed a little softer, as if it was coming from far away somewhere. She thought about that, wondering why she felt that since he was only sitting opposite her over the desk, or was he. She didn't care. She was now fascinated with trying to find the center of the spiral. He could tell by the deeply relaxed look of her facial features she was slipping into trance quickly and easily. Her eyes had taken on a glazed look as she stared at the screen. Next step, he decided, gaining a little confidence from her going to trance so easily. "As you become more and more deeply hypnotized and very relaxed," he began, "don't be surprised if your eyes just want to close all by themselves so they can be and feel as relaxed as the rest of your mind and body are starting to feel right now." Diane's eyes closed immediately, much to her surprise. She could still hear his voice, but it sounded even further away and very soft, almost like a whisper. She continued to look through her eyelids at the imaginary center she hadn't been able to find, feeling her mind and body relaxing more and more with each passing second. She felt good, she decided. Maybe there was something to this hypnosis business after all. He stared hard at her countenance. She had obeyed every suggestion he'd given her so far. For some reason he felt himself twitch and stir, and his pulse quickened slightly. "You are now beginning to feel better than you have for a very long time, Diane," he told her. "So relaxed and so calm. And you haven't had a terrifying thought since you came in. And the more you allow yourself to just keep drifting downward in your own mind and body with each word I say, the more better you'll begin to feel like you are feeling already, only twice as deeply relaxed and calm and peaceful without a care in the world as if you'd taken a handful of Valium that were just coursing through your bloodstream and relaxing every tiny muscle in your mind and your body where you are now feeling so relaxed you couldn't even be bothered to try and think of a single thought except how soothing my voice is when you hear each word and allow it to take to even more deeply into hypnosis than you are right now." Diane could feel herself losing it to the sound of his voice and the very relaxing feeling throughout her mind and her body. She began to drift in and out occasionally. His voice would sometimes seem loud and then soft, alternating between the two. It began to fascinate her as she became more and more aware that everything he was saying was coming true as he said it. She felt like she was slipping slowly down inside a long, soft tube of safety and protection where nothing could get her or harm her or upset her anymore. He fought to keep his voice calm, in spite of his racing pulse as he watched Diane go deeper and deeper into trance. She sat slumped in the chair with her head down almost to her chest. Her breathing was deep and steady. Her arms rested comfortably in her lap. It was time, he decided, to put into practice what he'd read in an article published by an Austrian psyche student about mind-control. "Now that you're feeling so trouble-free and so deeply hypnotized, Diane, you can already feel how nice it would be to be able to come here whenever you like, whenever you happen to be feeling stressed or just wanted to take time out for a little while if things were starting to get you down. That would be nice, wouldn't it?" Diane was immediately aware of her head nodding, but she couldn't recall consciously doing it herself. It seemed to do it on its own. She tried to talk and say yes, but her throat and mouth seemed as dry as the Sahara desert. They just didn't seem to want to work, so she simply stopped trying and concentrated once again on his voice. It seemed to be getting softer than ever. She strained to hear it and not miss a single word. It might be important. It was time, he decided. Time to put her to the test and see if the psyche student was lying or not. "Diane, listen very carefully."I'm going to implant a trance key in your subconscious mind that will allow you to come back to this wonderful feeling of peace and relaxation whenever you hear it. Whenever you need to get away. Would that be acceptable to you? Again, Diane felt her head nod, and again she wondered why she couldn't recall doing it herself. "That's fine. You're doing perfectly," he soothed her reassuringly. "Your trance key will be the word 'sleep time,' and whenever you hear the sound of my voice say those words, your head will slump forward immediately onto your chest, and you'll fall over the cliff and into the same deep relaxation you are feeling right now. No matter what you are doing or where you are, you will go instantly back to this place, feeling only the deepest sense of peace of mind and relaxation you feel right now, and waiting patiently for the sound of my voice to tell you what to do next whenever you hear me say your trance key, 'sleep time.' Diane took it all in. It sounded like a great idea. A ready escape whenever things got too much for her. And when I awaken you in a few moments, you will remember nothing of what I've told you during your trance because you want each and every suggestion I've placed in your subconscious mind to work toward your own good and to heal you so you can have control back over your life, and you realize now that subconscious suggestions work best when you can't consciously remember them because you don't need two minds to remember the same things, so you can forget easily what your subconscious mind will always remember what you will always forget. Isn't that true? Everything he was telling her seemed to make an awful lot of sense as she drifted here and there, trying to focus on his soft voice. It wasn't easy. It kept floating in and out of her hearing as if he was walking around the room away and apart from her. "When I count up to three and snap my fingers, you'll find yourself coming instantly awake and feeling better and more refreshed and in control than you felt in a very long time. One...two...three," he said, and then snapped his fingers and waited. Diane heard the snap of his fingers, as if they were snapped in her ears. Her eyelids flew open. She blinked a few times and looked at him as he sat opposite her at his desk. He wasn't somewhere else, she thought. He'd been there all the time. "How do you feel?" he asked her. She looked down at herself and stretched. She felt great. This hypnosis was really something. She intended to recommend it to her friends. In fact, she'd never felt better. She smiled widely at him in amazement. "I can't believe it!" she exclaimed happily. "I feel absolutely great!" He smiled inside and out, wondering why it had taken him so long to try hypnosis on a patient. "Sleep time," he said soothingly, and watched and waited. "Huh? Sleep wha...ohhh," and suddenly she seemed to be transported to a wonderful, relaxing place. Her body and mind soared as she relaxed back into a deep trance. He watched as her head slowly sank to her chest, smiling as widely as she had been only seconds before. "In a moment I'm going to wake you up again and ask you if you remember being hypnotized with the use of your trance key, which your subconscious mind will always hear and you will always forget. You will not be able to remember being hypnotized a second time, and, in fact, you will think you've just woken up from your first trance with a feeling of familiarity, but that's all, and feeling even more wonderful than you have ever felt before. One...two...three..." and he again snapped his fingers and watched and waited. Diane's eyes snapped open a second after she heard the snap of his fingers. She blinked a few times and stretched, smiling widely as she did so. "How do you feel?" he asked. "I feel great!" she exclaimed. "I feel absolutely terrific!" And as she finished saying the words, Diane felt strangely as if she'd only just said them. But she knew that couldn't be. She had only just been woken up. Boy, she thought as she stared at him with a broad school-girl grin all over her face. This hypnosis really works. Then again, Diane had the feeling that she'd only just thought that too, just a few moments ago. Then she shook her head, knowing she'd only just woken up. "What can you remember from your first trance?" he asked her quietly. Diane thought about it for a few minutes, but try as she might, she could only remember how great it had been. How relaxing and peaceful she had felt the entire time his voice had been fading in and out, because she'd had to concentrate really hard to hear him sometimes. "Your voice faded in and out a few times," she said to him. "I had to really concentrate to hear what you were saying sometimes. But other than that, I can only remember feeling good. Feeling great, actually. This hypnosis really works, doesn't it?" He grinned inside and out. "Yes, Diane. It certainly does." He was as amazed as she was that it had worked so well. "Sleep time," he said softly to her. "What?" she began. Then, "Ohhh...ye..es," and Diane felt her eyes close and head fall softly forward against her chest. Her mind seemed to fall over a cliff of some sort as she fell down and down into the most profoundly relaxing feeling of calm and tranquility she had ever experienced in her life. She seemed to be floating outside her own body. She felt so light. As light as the air itself. She wanted to cry out for joy, but she couldn't get her mouth to work. It didn't matter. It was glorious. Absolutely wonderful. He watched and leaned forward as he saw her lips move, but he couldn't make out what she had mumbled. "I'm going to give you something to think about," she heard his soft voice say from somewhere far off in the distance. "You feel so wonderful right now because I've helped you feel that way, and I know you feel very happy. Isn't that true?" Diane felt her head nod again all by itself, just like it had before, but she agreed anyway. This man had definitely helped her, and god knows someone had to have or she would have gone around the bend. Yes. She was certainly grateful to him. That was for sure. "Diane, I want you to think about the fact that you can never again feel as wonderful as you do right now unless I alone allow you to feel that way by hypnotizing you because you can't do it for yourself. Isn't that true?" Diane thought about that for a few seconds. She guessed it was true. She certainly was no hypnotist. The thought of never feeling as wonderful as she did at that moment brought a feeling of sadness to her. No. She didn't want that. She wanted to feel like this whenever she wanted to. It was too good. It felt too wonderful. Her head nodded again, and she agreed with her own gesture. "Then it stands to reason that you need me to allow you to experience the wonderful bliss you feel right now whenever you want to or need to. And that unless I agree to allow you to feel like this again, then you never will, without my help. Isn't that also true?" Diane's head nodded before she could even think about what he'd said. But she guessed she did need him in a kind of way she hadn't thought about before. Then he was right, she finally decided in her thoughts. Unless he agreed to it, she could never experience the bliss she was feeling right now. But why would he not agree? "And unless you're a good girl, I can't agree to allow you to feel like this again. That makes sense, doesn't it? That you have to be a good girl to get your reward of feeling like this again whenever you want to or need to? And then I can agree easily?" Diane had to admit that what he said to her did, in fact, make sense. She felt her head nod again. How could she expect to feel like this if she wasn't a good girl? She always tried to be, all her life. And if she wanted him to agree to allow her to feel like this again, then she would have to be a good girl. But that wouldn't be hard, she thought to herself as another wave of deep relaxation washed over her mind and body. She liked being a good girl anyway. Her mother had always told her that she had been the best of her three sisters. She had always been the most good girl of them all when they had been growing up. "Then I would like you to seriously consider that I am now like your master, and that unless I agree to hypnotize you again, you will never again feel as wonderful as you do right now. And that as your master now, you should seriously consider showing your master the proper respect by calling me 'Master' whenever you address me in the future whenever we are alone, just as naturally as can be, as if it were my name, because it is my name where you're concerned from now on if you ever want to feel again like you do right now. That would surely please me, and I would most certainly agree then that you'd been a very good girl and certainly allow you to feel like you do right now whenever you wanted to or needed to. That makes sense. Doesn't it?" Diane pondered over what he'd said. Of course she would be a good girl, and she wanted to feel like this again. Only he could make it happen, so she guessed that did, in fact, make him her master. And if that was his name for her, then it seemed only proper and right that she call him by his rightful name. And he was her master now, and it wouldn't be right if she didn't. She wanted to be a good girl. Again, her head slowly nodded. "And you won't even be aware that you are calling me by that special name, even when you say it, because it will seem so natural because I am your master now, in every sense of the word. Aren't I, Diane?" Diane's head nodded before she even finished her thoughts. But he was right, anyway. He was her master now because he was the only one who could hypnotize her and make her feel like she did right now. And she always wanted to feel like this.And if he was her master now, which he was, then it was only natural she wouldn't be consciously aware of saying his name. She never wondered about anybody else's name when she spoke with them. Diane pondered over how interesting it felt to have a master. She'd never had one before. "I want you to seriously consider that if I am your master, then you must be my slave who respects what her master can do for her whenever she needs looking after, because God knows, and you do too, that you need looking after sometimes. Everyone does at times, even you. That's why it feels so nice now to have a master and to be the slave of one, so he can look after you whenever you need him to, by being a very good girl-slave. That must make sense to you, Diane. Doesn't it make good sense to you?" Diane thought long and hard about what he'd said. A slave girl. Just like in the movies. But then again, he was her master now, she knew that. And if he was her master, then she must be his slave. He was right about that. That did make sense. And she did need looking after. Everyone did at times, just like he said. But she was lucky now. She had a master who could make her feel like this anytime she wanted to or needed to. Her head nodded slowly in agreement. "That's fine, Diane. You're doing perfectly. You are a very good girl. A very good slave-girl. And you deserve a reward for being so good. When I snap my fingers, you will feel instantly a wave of pleasure begin between your thighs and wash quickly up over your breasts, ending in an instantaneous orgasm, because you certainly have been a good slave girl. Haven't you? And you do deserve a reward for being good. Don't you?" An orgasm? Diane thought about that and smiled inwardly. That would be nice. She hadn't had one for a while. Could he really give me one just by snapping his fingers? Well, he was her master, so, she guessed that means he could do anything he wanted to her and make her feel however he wanted to make her feel. Look at how wonderful he was making her feel right now. He snapped his fingers and watched and waited. He saw her take a deep breath, then sigh. Then her breathing became ragged and deeper, as if she was making love and getting closer to her threshold with each breath she took. She began to make little soft moans with her voice, and her hands began pressing between her thighs in time with her breathing. As soon as she heard his fingers snap, it seemed as if someone had begun touching her between the legs. The feelings of sheer raw pleasure began to wash up and fan upward over her belly and breasts faster than she could count or think. Her mind began to race in the pleasure she was feeling in the moments of each one's arrival between her legs and ending up at her nipples, which were now torching and aching for a release of some kind. Then suddenly, Diane's mind and body flamed from head to toe as her hypnotic orgasm seared a path up and down her spine for several seconds before finally burning out and leaving her breathless. God, she thought, when it had passed completely. God! He couldn't be more pleased. He had watched a hypnotic-induced orgasm, and it looked as if she really felt it and experienced it on every level in her mind and body. She had shook visibly as she had peaked in her pleasure, her head rolling from side to side as she'd moaned her rapture silently and softly. Her back had hunched and arched, and her hands had pressed and rubbed furiously with the capping of her rapture. "That's fine, Diane. You're doing perfectly. And from now on that will be your reward every time for being a good slave girl. In a moment I'm going to wake you up, and you will remember nothing of your trance or what has taken place. But you will remember who I am at all times in your mind as your master, and you will address me naturally as such when we speak and be obedient and loyal. So loyal, in fact, that you will select only the girls or women you think would like and who would make good slave-girls to bring to me for their training, just like you've now finished and passed with flying colours, which make me feel so proud of you that my heart feels like bursting. You will present them to me with whatever their problem is and ask if I can help them like I helped you. Then you will remain and watch as I train them, so they can be as good as you. That makes sense, doesn't it, that you be here and supervise their training since you are their leader as the head slave-girl. Doesn't it?" Diane felt wonderful. So wonderful she felt like crying. Her master had given her the most wonderfully satisfying orgasm and had made her feel so wonderful. And now he was making her head slave-girl while he trained those she brought to him. It was the least she could do. Besides, the thought of having her own girls felt somehow really good to her as her head nodded in agreement completely with everything he had said. "Very good, Diane. And because you are such a good slave-girl, I will remove forever any more panic attacks from your mind and body. You simply will not have them as long as you allow me to be your master and remain my faithful, obedient and loyal slave-girl. Do you understand?" Diane understood completely. She never wanted those panic attacks to ever come back. What a good idea it had been to come to a therapist after all. What had she been so concerned about in coming in the first place? She would always be loyal to him and very obedient to be a good girl so he could give her more of what she'd already experienced. A warm feeling rushed over her body at the thought of her past orgasm. She nodded her head. "One...two...three." And he snapped his fingers, watching her eyelids fly open and blink rapidly. Then she smiled as her eyes met his. "How do you feel?" he smiled warmly at her. Diane smiled. "Great, master!" she answered immediately. "I've never felt better in my life!" For only a second, Diane thought about his name. 'Master.' Strange name, she wondered, but it sounded natural to her ears and seemed to just roll off her tongue. Besides, the way she was feeling he had made her feel, so maybe he was her master anyway, she figured. He decided to test her before dismissing her for the day. "Diane," he began, watching her eyes glue themselves to his lips. "You realize now that I am your master and you are my slave, and that you'll do everything and anything I tell you to and be happy in the doing. Don't you?" He watched her smile fade and her eyes widen as she took in her words. Diane heard everything he'd said, but for some reason she wasn't offended or upset. Shaken she should be, but for some reason she wasn't. For some reason, she knew he was right. She was his slave and he was her master. She didn't know why it all sounded so natural and right to her, but it did. And she knew she would do anything he asked her to do. Anything at all. That's what good slave-girls did - anything they were told, and they were happy when they did it, otherwise they wouldn't be very good slave-girls and they wouldn't have a master for very long. "Yes, master," she answered him finally. He slowly let out the breath he'd been holding, feeling it leave silently through his teeth as he watched Diane, his first slave-girl, sit and gaze passively at him from across the desk. His new direction. He'd found it. And there would be many more like Diane. She was only the first. "You may leave now, Diane," he said to her softly with a smile. "I will expect a call from you in the very near future when you have selected our next new slave girl for training. Do you understand?" "Yes, master," Diane heard herself say, thinking of just the right girl for their next slave-training. "I understand. I'll call you sooner than you think." And then she smiled as she stood up. He showed her out the door, then returned to his desk. He sat down and leaned back comfortably in his chair. Today, Diane, he thought as his smile widened. Tomorrow, an army of slave girls. He sighed. Someone had to be their master. It may as well be him. END CHAPTER I (to be continued) by Mesmer HYPNOSIS-MIND-CONTROL "THE NEW SHIRT" by Mesmer (C) Chapter One "It seems very warm in here all of a sudden, don't you think?" he stated more than questioned the young teenager serving him in the clothes shop. She was the only attendant he had seen since he had entered ten minutes prior. The young girl looked from side to side, hesitated, then glanced up at the ceiling fans, unconsciously lifting her shirt away from her skin a little as she did so. "It always seems.. hot and humid.. to me whenever I'm.. inside a store..for very long," he then followed up with, encouraged by her slight acceptance of his first suggestion. "Makes me.. feel tired, like.. wanting to curl up.. in bed and.. forget about everything.. for a little while." And with that said, he yawned, and then sighed. The girl still held the shirt she had been showing him before he had started on her with waking hypnosis, his next attempt at an induction with a person who didn't know they were having one. He noticed she fought very hard to stifle a yawn, and was encouraged some more. "Were you... aahh.. interested in this shirt, or the other one?" she asked, making a conscious effort to get her sales pitch back on track. "This one seems okay," he replied, feeling the material in his hands and fingers. "It has light material. Not that.. heavy stuff that makes me.. feel even hotter than I do already whenever I'm.. inside a warm store; like the.. air is so warm when I breathe it into my lungs it makes me.. feel sleepy, and my.. eyes start to.. feel very heavy and.. wanting to close.. all by themselves." Again he casually noticed her pulling the material of her shirt away from her skin. The shirt she was wearing was a designer shirt made of heavy slub material.She blinked twice, and then a third time as she once more brought her concentration to bear on her sales pitch and held up the shirt once more in front of him. "Yes," she answered slowly, as if thinking of something else. "It's nice and light...the shirt, I mean. Would you like to try it on?" He looked directly into her eyes when he answered. "As long as you don't think that because I feel so hot and so tired and my eyes feel so heavy as if they want to close all by themselves and take time out, and I won't want to just curl up in the change room because it's even warmer and more comfortable in there and I just know my eyes are going to feel heavier and heavier because I feel like just relaxing completely and just letting go of everything and letting my mind drift down and down while I just take time out and go to sleep as my eyelids get heavier and heavier until they close all by themselves." He had spoken every word slowly and precisely, pausing when he felt he had to, and now watched as the shop assistant's gaze began to glaze slightly. He knew she was already in a light hypnotic trance. "It would feel so good," he said, "to just close your eyes and just take time out for just a little while in this heat where everything would be cool and comfortable and safe when you allow yourself to just let go completely and just relax your whole mind and body. Isn't that true?" The plain young teenager blinked very heavily a few times and appeared to be trying to focus her gaze on something. "Uhhh. Yes. Ahh..I..I guess so," she answered slowly. "And if you knew it was alright to do that because you had been given permission and that everything would be alright with the store, then you'd certainly take advantage of having a short, relaxing sleep so you could feel fresh and alert when you woke up, not like you're feeling now, so hot and so tired, feeling as if at any moment your eyelids are going to become so heavy that no matter how hard you try to stop them from closing, they'll just close anyway, all by themselves because they want to be relaxed and enjoy a short, relaxing sleep, just like you do because now you've got permission to do so and it's alright now to just let go completely and surrender to the heaviness in your arms and legs and thoughts and mind and eyelids and just allow them to close and not stop anything from happening just the way it wants to because you just couldn't be bothered because you're going to take a small nap while everything gets looked after for you while you just relax and let go, and allow your very heavy eyelids to close now, all by themselves." The girl's eyelids had closed before he'd finished speaking, but he had continued anyway to deepen her trance. She now just stood there, her arm holding out the shirt in front of her, slightly held upward, while the other hung limply by her side. Her head bent forward at a slight angle and her shoulders rose and fell gently as she breathed through her mouth. "It feels so good to be as relaxed as you feel. Isn't that true?" he stated slowly. "Ye.es," she answered hesitantly, swaying slightly as she spoke. "Now you feel cool again because you are so relaxed and peaceful. Isn't that true too?" he asked her. "Ummm," she replied, nodding slightly. He thought for a moment about what to try with her in relation to experimenting, now that he had proven to himself that he could do what he had. But how deep was she? That was the question. Time to find out, he decided. "Wouldn't it feel so much nicer and fresher if you showered before you had your little sleep that you now have permission to have and get rid of all that sticky uncomfortable sweat that just seems to want to cling to your skin and your body in all the wrong places and make you feel so uncomfortable that you just feel yuk and sticky and sweaty and downright uncomfortable?" "Ugh. Ye..es," she replied, pulling a face and pulling her shirt away from her chest and holding it away. "You could give me that shirt in your hand to hold, if you like, while you get ready to take a shower before your cool and very refreshing and relaxing sleep after you give me that shirt to hold while you get ready and take your shower to make yourself all clean and fresh for your relaxing and refreshing sleep after you remove all those hot and sticky and very sweaty and uncomfortable clothes and just drop them on the floor beside you because I'll pick them up for you piece by piece as you feel yourself wanting very much to just get rid of them once and for all from your body so they can't make you feel so awful and sticky and sweaty and uncomfortable anymore. Isn't that true?" "Yes," she answered dreamily, fiddling with her shirt. "Do it...now!" he stated as a command, to see if she was deep enough to accept a direct suggestion. The young teenager stiffened slightly at the change of tone in his voice. Then, to his surprise, she handed him the shirt and began unbuttoning her own with both hands, dropping it onto the floor beside her when she'd undone all the buttons and slid it quickly off her shoulders. She wore a white bra and her breasts filled each cup to overflowing. Then quickly the girl unzipped her dress and allowed it to drop to her ankles, whereupon she stepped out of it. Next she unhooked her bra and dropped it also, then quickly slid her panties down over her hips and thighs and stepped out of them also. She now stood completely naked beside him. "It feels good for a change to have someone else tell you what to do and what to think. Isn't that true?" he asked her. She was silent for about thirty seconds before finally answering. "Yes," she replied slowly. "And you do feel very peaceful and relaxed and very calm and safe because you know everything is happening just as it wants to and it's so easy to just let it be that way so you don't have to do a thing because I'll take care of everything for you while you just relax and go deeper and deeper to sleep and awaken feeling very refreshed and alert when I snap my fingers. Isn't that true?" "Yes," came the slow reply. "And are you happy to feel as relaxed and calm and safe the way you do now?" "Yes," she answered. "And does it feel good to just let me do all the thinking for you, so you can just continue to allow your mind and your body to relax and sink deeper and more deeply into your special sleep where you can just let me do all the thinking for you while you just go along with everything and simply do as I suggest so you can really and truly enjoy your special sleep and get the most out of it?" "Yes," she repeated, swaying slightly. "And wouldn't it be wonderful if you had some kind of a special trance key that you could use and just go instantly back down in your mind and feel the deep and peaceful relaxation and mental and physical calmness that you feel right now whenever you heard me say your special trance key so that you could drop and stop whatever you were doing and just close your eyes instantly and go straight back down to being asleep, deeply asleep like you are now and again let me do all the thinking for you and not remember anything I told you, you didn't remember?" "Yes," came the slow reply after a few seconds. "Well you can make up your own very special word that I can use as your special trance key that will take you down to your deep and special trance whenever you hear me say it. Isn't that what you want?" "Yes," she answered. He decided she was deep enough to resume his normal tone of voice. "Then you can take a few moments and tell me what special word I can use that whenever I say it you will want to stop what you're doing and allow your eyes to close and go deeply, deeply into your trance state where you are right now and listen only to the sound of my voice while I do all the thinking for you as you take time out to enjoy your special sleep, now that you've been given permission to have it, and just tell me that special trance key when you decide." He watched in silence, frozen like a statue while the girl went through her mental choices for a trance key. "Bunny," she said softly with a smile. "That's fine," he told her. "You're doing perfectly. And now that you've chosen your own special trance key, you can use it every time you hear me say it and go instantly to sleep with your eyes closed and your mind in neutral like it is now and feel so good and so relaxed and safe and warm and calm. Is that how you'd like your special trance key to affect you so you can really enjoy it every time you use it and hear it?" "Yes," she said softly. "When I snap my fingers you will become instantly awake. You will notice that you have no clothes on and simply look at me, wondering how your clothes got from your body to the floor without you knowing it. Then, when I say your special trance key, 'Bunny,' you will allow it to have that magical, special effect on your mind and your body fall instantly into a deep sleep and forget you ever saw yourself without clothes on in front of me. Do you understand?" "One...two...three!" he said, and then snapped his fingers softly. The girl opened her eyes and blinked a few times, then looked down at her nakedness. Her eyebrows flew to the top of her head as it spun on him, her gaze penetrating through his own, her face a mixture of shock and puzzlement. Her hands flew to cover herself as best she could. "Bunny!" he said suddenly to her as he held her gaze. Her eyebrows raised a little more on her forehead. "What?" she asked. Then slowly, and then quickly, they simply closed.The tension visibly left her body as her shoulders slumped and her arms dropped limply back to her sides as she sighed and began to breathe in a very relaxed fashion. "Deeper and more deeply," he talked her down. "More and more deeply relaxed and safe and warm and calm." Her shoulders drooped even more, and her head bent forward slightly toward her chest. "No thinking whatsoever. Your mind is in neutral. Every thought I have is one you have. That's why I do the thinking for you while you just enjoy everything and go along and enjoy your special sleep where everything will feel so perfectly natural that you won't want to question anything or doubt anything because they'll all be your own thoughts because I'll be doing the thinking for you like you wanted me to, so you can just enjoy everything I suggest. Isn't that true?" "Yes," she answered. "What is your name?" he asked her. "Margaret Johnson," she answered. "Do you have a nickname that you only like your friends to call you?" "Yes," she said. "Ant. Anne is my middle name, but only my close friends know that." "Do you consider me to be your close friend?" "Yes." "Is it alright with you if I call you by your nickname then?" "Yes." "That's fine, Ant," he told her softly. "Because I am your close friend now since I have been the only one in your life who has ever given you your own special trance key, and I am the only one who has ever made you feel like you do right now, so peaceful and so relaxed and safe and warm. Isn't that true?" "Yes," she replied. "And you wouldn't want me to take away your special trance key that will only work on you if I say it with my own voice, and then you will never again have me for a close friend and will never in your whole life ever feel as relaxed and as peaceful as you do right now. Isn't that true?" He saw a small tear run down her cheek and stop at the corner of her mouth. "Well, you can know that I'll never ever do that, take away your special trance key and leave you all alone to face the world by yourself, the one that you thought up all by yourself and that only has the effect it does on you when you hear it said with my voice only. Is that what you want?" "Yes," she answered with another tear as a full stop to her sentence. It followed the previous one and stopped at the corner of her mouth to join it. "Then whatever I tell you to feel, you will feel, and whatever I tell you to experience, you will experience, and whatever I tell you to see and to hear, you will see and you will hear, with every sense of feeling you have in your mind and body. Isn't that true?" "Yes," came the answer. "That's fine. You're doing perfectly. From this point on, you will refer to me as 'Master' because I am your master now since I hold the power of your trance key and no one else can use it. Isn't that true?" "Yes." "Yes, what?" "Yes, master," she answered. "That's better. You're doing very well. And I will always reward you when you do very well. Would you like me to do that? Reward you when you do very well?" "Yes," she said softly. He moved closer to her, reaching out with his right hand, extending the index and middle finger, brushing them lightly upward over her pubic hairs and just grazing the top of the soft flesh of her center. "Is that a nice reward?" he asked. "Yes," she said. "Would you like me to keep giving you this reward or stop now?" he asked her. "Keep...doing it," she said softly. And he did, stroking and sliding up and down her soft, warm crease until she began to sag at the knees as her passion built quickly. Her breathing became ragged and panting as she approached her climax. He increased the pressure of his fingers between the soft folds of her sexual lips, then grasped the firm, tiny bud of her clitoris between his finger and thumb, holding it firmly. "Ooohh!" the girl gasped, sucking in a deep breath then sighing it out loudly as it left through her lips. "You'll have a climax soon. Isn't that true?" "Yyeess," she breathed. "You will climax and explode inside your body like never before in the next thirty seconds, and when you do, I will squeeze your clitoris very firmly, but you will feel only the most intense and rapturous pleasure you've ever experienced in your life, and you will always remember how intense this orgasm was for you and can know that I can allow you to induce that same intense and pleasurable orgasm in any part of your body I want to at any time. Would you like me to be able to do that?" "Oooohhh yes!" she panted as he squeezed again and again on the very jewel of her firm, throbbing center. "Then you may come...now!" he said, waited a few seconds until her breathing deepened and her back arched. Then he squeezed very, very hard on the soft yet firm piece of female anatomy he grasped so tightly between his thumb and forefinger. Her hips jerked uncontrollably as he held her by her gyrating center. She groaned loudly as her orgasm flamed up and down her body from head to toe. She buckled at the knees, but he went down with her as her knees took her weight on the floor. And still he continued to squeeze her tiny, pulsing center, her face contorting with rapture over and over again as he continued to squeeze her jewel mercilessly. Her forehead glistened with the sweat of her labor and her rapidly expanding pleasure. Then finally, he stopped squeezing and released her center back to herself. "Oooohohhhh!" she moaned as he let her go. Then he watched and waited while her breathing returned to normal. When it did, he smiled. "Was that a nice reward for being a good little girl?" he asked. "Yes!" she answered in a long, drawn-out sigh. "Yes, what?" he asked sternly. "Yes...master," she replied. "And if I am your master to you, then what are you to me?" he asked. "Your...your...slave," she answered hesitantly. "That's right," he said. "And does that make you happy to be my slave so I can be your master and allow you to have such intense and pleasurable orgasms like you've just experienced?" "Yes...master," she answered. "And you are happy and very willing to be my slave and think of yourself as such and do everything a slave would normally do for her master? Anything at all?" he asked. "Yes, master," she said without hesitation this time. "That's fine. You're doing perfectly. Now quickly get dressed. Now!" he ordered her. He watched as she quickly dressed herself, then stood quietly beside him. Her breathing had returned to normal, and, apart from her face being a little flushed from her rapturous orgasm, she looked none the worse for wear after her induction into bondage. "How do you feel now, Ant?" he asked her. "I feel great, master," she answered softly. "And are you happy with everything that's happened?" "Yes, master." "You know you can't remember any of this consciously, don't you?" "Yes, master," she said a little sadly. "But you will remember always in your subconscious mind, whenever I call you slave, or whenever I use your trance key. And you will feel a certain attraction for me, even though you can't remember any of this after I wake you up and will go out of your way to be extra nice to me. Do you understand clearly?" "Yes, master." "One...two...three!" he said, and then snapped his fingers. He still held the shirt he had been thinking of buying. She opened her eyes and blinked a few times, then stretched like a lazy cat in the morning sunshine. "So," he said as if nothing had happened. "Do you think this one will suit me?" She looked vacantly at him for a few seconds as if she hadn't heard him. Then she looked quickly down at the shirt in his hand and then back into his eyes. Then she smiled and shook her head. "It's not really your color. Wait here a minute. I've got another one in the back that's just come in. You'll love it, and it will suit your natural skin tone." Then she turned and disappeared through a doorway, returning after a few minutes holding a blue shirt in her hands and smiling. "This one you'll really like," she told him, beaming as if she'd discovered a secret for him and her. "Can I have it for nothing...Ant?" he asked. The girl blinked a few times. Her eyes glazed slightly as she stared at him, and then cleared. "Yes...master," she stammered, raising her eyebrows in wonderment at saying the word, 'master.' "Thank you. That's very kind of you," he answered. He followed her to the counter where she wrapped the shirt for him and handed it over. He took it smiling, and then left the store and his new slave until another day, knowing he'd never run out of new clothes, just like he had never run out of food, or cigarettes, or beer, or petrol for his car, or pizzas, or many other things that his hypnotic slaves willingly gave him whenever he happened to call and ask at their place of business. He walked casually over to his car, a gleaming new Porsche he had only had given to him an hour before visiting the shirt store. "It's a dirty job," he smiled to himself as he slid down behind the wheel of the flashy sports car and threw the new shirt on the seat beside him. "But somebody's got to do it." Then he started the engine and drove toward the other side of town and his home. He wanted to show his landlady his new car and new shirt. It was the least he could do since she had given him twelve months free board and food at the condominium where he had stayed since arriving in town a little over a year ago.After pulling into his own driveway that he used to park another car that had been given to him, he took a little black book out of the glove box, along with a pen and began to write. 'Number 425,' he wrote. 'Margaret (Ant) Johnson-Shirt store.' Then he got out of his new car and walked smiling toward the attractive redhead who was already walking toward him, and smiling just as widely as he was. End Chapter One. HYPNOSIS-MIND-CONTROL "SIBLING LOVE" (by Mesmer) (C) Chapter I I'd finally finished. Working on it after work each day for a week to finally get it to sound like what I thought was perfection, it was finally ready to test on someone. Everybody was out of the house. Mom and Dad had driven to my aunt's place for the day and night, leaving only Jodie and me home alone to entertain ourselves. Jody was my nineteen-year-old sister. She was a student nurse at the local hospital. I worked as a cadet journalist for the local paper. I hurried downstairs from my room to the lounge. I wanted to hear what the tape sounded like through headphones on a really good stereo-tape deck, not like the cheap brand I used to make it. Jody was over at a friend's place and I had the whole place to myself. I placed the tape into the deck and plugged in the expensive headphones. The ear-muffs were covered in velvet and were terrifically comfortable on my ears. I loved using them. It was a forty-five-minute tape with every minute used up with the project. I turned it on and settled down to listen, bunching a few cushions under my head to relax even further. Then, wouldn't you know it, nature wasn't just calling, it was screaming. Damn! I rewound the tape and threw the headphones off. Then went upstairs to the toilet. After satisfying my bodily needs, I suddenly felt sticky. I had been working on the tape for three hours that morning and hadn't yet had my morning shower. Since I was up there, I decided to. That way I'd be clean and fresh and could relax even more while I gave my tape the final listening-to assessment. Then I'd finally feel happy and confident about trying it out on someone. I had no idea who. Maybe one of Jody's friends, somehow. I pondered about that all through having my shower. I was still thinking about it when I walked back downstairs to the lounge to listen to the tape, but reaching the entrance to the room, I stopped dead. My heart leaped into my mouth with my heart instantly thumping against my rib-cage. There was Jody, my sister, flat on her back on the floor, resting in amongst my cushions, with the headphones on and listening to my tape. For a few seconds, I just stood there, mentally and physically numb with shock and panic. I figured she must have listened to a fair bit of it. I'd been gone almost an hour since leaving to go to the toilet, but I didn't know what time she'd come home, or really, how long she'd been lying there listening to it. I couldn't see her face. It was turned away from me and facing the wall. God. My mind raced. What was I going to do. Now my own sister would know what a deviate she had for a brother, making a hypnotic tape to seduce girls. Oh, the shame of it. I'd never live it down, and, knowing Jody the way I did, she'd never let me live it down. All I could do now was wait. It would give me time to try and think up some kind of believable excuse for making the tape in the first place. Maybe I could say it was a project for a course I was thinking of taking in the future. Maybe a psyche course or something like that. Damn! What a pity Jody was so smart. She'd never believe it. Never! I went to the kitchen and made myself a drink of chocolate while I waited for the tape to finish. She couldn't have much more to go now. Must be almost finished. Then I could simply face the music and hope she didn't want to tell Mom and Dad. Maybe she'd be happy with just blackmailing me for the next twenty years or so. I drank my drink with an impending disaster looming in my mind that was growing larger by the passing second as I imagined my sister listening to everything I'd said on the tape. I could feel myself blushing from head to toe. I'd never be able to look her in the face again. Oh, the shame of it all. The shame of it all, I thought as I drained the glass and rose to walk slowly back to the lounge and cop my punishment like a man. When I reached the doorway, Jody was still lying flat on her back on the floor and in amongst the cushions, but the headphones were no longer on her head. She seemed to be just looking up at the ceiling and thinking. I took a deep breath and gathered the courage I knew in my heart I didn't have, then I walked into the lounge room to face the music. "I didn't hear you come home," I said to her as I walked into the room toward her. She turned her head lazily to look at me. Her eyes seemed tired and half-asleep. Probably from the relaxing music, I thought, as I sat down on the floor sheep-faced beside her. Her eyes hadn't left me, still with that dreamy look about them. "You look tired," I said with a half-smile of concern, trying to soften the blows I knew she'd fly off with any minute about her debauched brother. Jody blinked a couple of times. "I ... I ..err. Yes. I.. Must be, I think," she stammered a bit. "I wasn't earlier when I came home from Anne's. Must have been lying down here, I guess." She turned her head away from looking at me. I had been granted a reprieve. She must have something on her mind, I thought, thanking my lucky stars - a temporary stay of execution. "Have a fight with Anne?" I asked, probing. She turned back to face me. Her eyes still had that vacant look about them, as if I'd interrupted her sleep. "No. We didn't fight. Why do you ask?" she answered. "You seem kind of quiet," I said, noting she seemed to be having trouble fixing her gaze on me. "Mmmm," was her only dreamy reply. "Maybe I'm still tired from the dance last night. It was a late night, I guess. Think I'll go up and lie down for a little while." And with that, she got up slowly and walked out of the room, leaving me speechless. She hadn't mentioned the tape at all. I glanced at the tape deck. Maybe she put one of her own tapes in the deck and put mine somewhere else. Quickly I checked the tape deck. No. My tape was the one she'd definitely listened to - all forty-five minutes of it. Then slowly, I lay down where she had been lying and began to think about what I'd said on the tape. It began with a hypnotic induction using internally-focused awareness and visualization, starting from the top of the head and finishing at the toes. Then it deepened the trance by taking an escalator down to the count of fifty, each count down relaxing the listener even more deeply than the level before. Then the tape went on to introduce a trance key to make it easier to complete an induction much more quickly in the future, and then went on about compliance without question and faith without doubt for quite a few repetitions. I'd finished the tape with several repetitions of not being able to remember anything heard on the tape, only awakening with a feeling of sleepiness and well-being throughout mind and body. I shut my eyes, not for a moment believing what my mind and senses were trying to convince me of from that moment onward-that I had successfully hypnotized my own sister. God! I couldn't believe it! It wasn't possible! Surely! Ha! It worked! It worked! My mind soared as I grinned from ear to ear. It had worked, or otherwise why wasn't I mincemeat beneath my sister's scathing verbal attack on what she'd just listened to for forty-five minutes non-stop? My mind raced as to what to do next. I had to test her. Try out the trance key. I got up quickly and hurried upstairs to Jody's room. The door was closed. I stood with my ear pressed against the door, but could hear nothing. Gently I opened it and saw Jody lying on the bed, still fully dressed. Her eyes were closed. She was lying on her back with her arms resting across her stomach. Her feet were crossed at the ankles. I stood there peering through her door watching her for several minutes. I could see the gentle, even rise and fall of her breasts. They weren't a bad size. In fact, as I looked at my sister, sort of for the first time, I realised my sister wasn't bad all over. I'd never really thought about her in a sexual way before. I guess being my sister and all. I wondered then if she was sleeping or just checking out the insides of her eyelids as she lay there thinking about something. My pulse was still racing and my heart? Well, it was just beating wildly, thumping against my rib-cage as if it was trying to get out. I decided to gather the courage I didn't have and go in. I had to find out if the tape had worked on her in any way. The door squeaked a bit, but she didn't move a muscle. "You awake, Jode?" I asked softly. Her eyes opened to half as I walked over to the side of her bed. She focused on my face and eyes, but her own eyes remained at half-mast. "Yeah," she answered dreamily. "I just feel sort of lazy, but not tired." I forced myself to take a long, slow breath as I prepared to find the courage from somewhere to try the trance key and see what happened. Her gaze had returned to staring vacantly at the ceiling. "Mind if I sit down for a while?" I asked her, sitting down anyway beside her on her bed. She turned her head to face me and half-smiled. "Okay," She replied dreamily. "If you like." I spoke while she was still looking at me without thinking. "Sleep time." "Huh?" she said as her eyes widened a bit. My heart raced. "Sleep time," I repeated slowly.Then, to my amazement, while she continued to look at me, her eyes closed down shut and she took a deep breath and sighed loudly, relaxing back down into the pillow as if she was settling in for the night. I let out the rest of the breath I'd been holding with a long, slow hiss between my teeth. My senses soared. I was elated and excited at the same time. And for some reason I was stirring in the loins. Quickly I forgot about my thickening. Too excited about the fact that my tape had seemed to work on my own sister. Thoughts and ideas flooded into my conscious mind as I looked at my sister sleeping deeply in a hypnotic sleep. Or at least I hoped she was. "Can you hear me, Jody?" I tested her. "Yes," she answered dreamily. Her lips remained parted after she'd answered me. "Are you sleeping?" I probed. "No," she said. "How do you feel?" I asked, my tension mounting by the second. "Good," she replied simply. I gathered my courage. "Are you thinking about anything?" "No," my sister said. Now for the biggie. "Are you hypnotized?" "Yes," she answered, and my heart soared. "Are you sure?" I pressed. "Yes. I think so," she said. "What does that mean?" I pressed again. I had to know. "I have to accept without question and in faith without doubt, everything you suggest to me," she said. I nearly fell off the edge of the bed. "And do you want to?" I pressed again. "Yes," she answered. "I think so." "Why?" I asked her. "Because if I do I'll feel really good inside," she replied. "And is that how you want to feel?" I asked again. "Yes." "And everything you hear will seem as your own idea and you'll think all of your ideas that I suggest to you are good ideas that you will want to do so you can feel really good inside?" I pressed as I drove home the main message on the tape. "Yes," she answered. I relaxed and shut up. I was amazed and speechless. Everything on the tape had worked perfectly. Perfectly! I had hypnotized my sister perfectly. She wanted to do anything I might suggest to her, think it was her idea so she could feel good, and then do it without question and without doubt. And then forget everything that happened. "Will you remember anything after you wake up?" I asked her. "No," she answered. "My subconscious will remember everything, so I don't have to." Perfect! Everything was perfect! I couldn't believe it! It was just too much! But there it was. Or rather, there she was, my own sister, a slave to my every command. My heart began to race faster than it had already been as various thoughts entered my conscious mind that had never entered there in any serious way before in my life. I took a breath, a deep one, feeling it shaking as it entered my mouth and lungs. I got up and shut the door, then returned to sit on the bed beside Jody and wondered what she was thinking. "What are you thinking?" I asked. "Nothing," she said. "What are you doing?" I asked again. "Waiting for you to suggest something for me to do, and resting," she said simply. God, I was going to die for sure. I was out of my tiny tree with excitement as suggestions by the dozen began to form in my mind. "Would you like me to suggest something for you to do?" I asked her. "Yes," she said simply. I drew breath deeply. "Then take your clothes off and be quick," I said with a release of breath and tension at the same time. Jody's hands moved quickly. Off came her tank top and her bra, and then her jeans and underwear, to lie absolutely naked on the bed in front of her brother having the time of life trying to even believe what was happening in front of his own eyes. I couldn't believe it. I was sitting there staring at the naked body of my nineteen-year-old sister. Her breasts were beautiful. Large brown nipples with even browner areolas. They were full and heavy, sagging a little to each side under their own weight. Her waist was solid, but tapered as it fanned out either side into her hips. And her thighs were centered by the bushiest, most sexiest thatch of lush, black, pubic hair I'd ever seen, not that I'd seen to many, apart from the books. It looked as soft as duck-down. I stared hard at her face. "Roll over and spread your legs," I ordered my sister. She did so immediately. Her backside was even more beautiful than I'd ever seen as well, anywhere. The black mass of hair showed clearly between her open thighs as I bent to stare in amazement. "Roll back onto your stomach," I said, watching her do so immediately. Then, "Do you like what I'm suggesting?" I asked. "Yes," she said. "Even though I'm your brother and you've got no clothes on in front of me?" "Yes," was all she said. "And you will do anything I suggest to you? Anything at all, without question and without doubt, as if it's your own idea and want to do it?" "Yes." "Sit up on the edge of the bed facing me," I told her. She did so. Her eyes were still closed. "Open your eyes but remain deeply hypnotized," I told her. Her eyes opened to see me standing in front of her. I held my breath. "Unzip my zipper and take out my penis," I told her. My eyes almost rolled backwards in my head as her hands reached upward and unzipped my zipper. The touch of her fingers as they released my rampant hardness from its restrictive confines almost was more than a man could stand, but I held on. Her hands wrapped around my penis and waited. They felt hot. As hot as I was becoming by the passing second. Soon it would be too late. I drew breath deeply again. "These are all your ideas that you want to do. Is that true?" I asked her. "Yes," she answered, her eyes looking at what she held softly in her hands. "Put my penis into your mouth and suckle me while you tickle and squeeze my balls, and swallow every little bit," I ordered her. The feel of my own sister's mouth and tongue on my body nearly blew my mind before I blew my bolt. I sank deeply into her hot mouth. She began to suckle immediately: softly at first and then strongly. I groaned as she cupped my balls and started to squeeze. My hands went to the back of her head and held her tightly against me. She was taking me all the way down until her lips and mouth were meshed in with my pubic hairs. And then it was too late. My knees buckled as I held her tightly to me and emptied completely, again and again and again and again. And my sister Jody just continued to suckle me like an ice-cream cone until she had drained my body completely. I groaned loudly at the pleasure I had just received from my own sister's mouth. Slowly I withdrew my softening body from her mouth. Her hands still held it as well as my balls. I looked at her face and mouth. Not a drop. Her face was calm and relaxed. "Did you enjoy that?" I asked. "Yes," she answered. "Get dressed now, exactly as you were before," I told her, then watched as she quickly dressed herself. "Now you can go to sleep, Jody, and sleep deeply. You will not remember anything of what has happened here, just as you said. If you do happen to remember something, it will seem like a dream you've just had, and then you won't think of it again. Do you understand?" "Yes," she answered. I left her room and closed the door gently behind me. One last look showed my sister to be deeply sleeping. Her mouth was parted and her breathing was deep and even. I walked slowly downstairs, made myself a drink and settled down in a lounge chair to wait until she woke up. That would be the final test. God! I could still feel the warmth of her cocooning my body inside her mouth and emptying while she suckled me softly. Instantly I began to thicken. Jesus, I wanted to touch her, but I couldn't think about anything else except what she, my own sister had been doing to me in mind and body. I looked up at the doorway, completely taken by surprise at the sight greeting me. Jody was standing there looking, or staring at me, would be a better word. The look on her face was one of surprise. Then she smiled. "Hi!" she said brightly. "Hi!" I replied, my heart thumping again, waiting, not knowing what would happen next. "Must have fallen asleep," she said as she leaned lazily against the door jamb. "Want something to eat? I'll cook, as usual." Then she grinned widely. I hated cooking. "Okay," I answered. "That'd be great. Thanks, Jode." With that she straightened up and turned slowly, but not before looking back at me with a strange look on her face as she asked, "Would you like a cold drink first? I'm having one. I've got the strangest taste in my mouth." Then my sister Jody smiled in a funny way and disappeared from my sight, leaving me, her brother, to contemplate the impossible? The End Chapter I Chapter II While Jody was in the kitchen I had a few interesting thoughts about how to have some fun and really test the effect of the tape on her mind by seeing if she would follow post-hypnotic suggestions when she was awake. She came bouncing back into the lounge and handed me my drink of juice, then sat down in one of the other chairs. "Want to listen to a tape?" she asked. I almost choked on my drink. I spluttered for several seconds, orange juice running out of my nose. Jodie just laughed. Did she know? Had she been playing along with me all the time? Making a complete idiot out of me? "Are you okay?" she asked after a few seconds. "Yes," I managed. "I'll put some music on. I don't feel like watching T.V.," she said, and got up and put on her favorite music tape. I couldn't help notice her giving me a funny look as she walked back to sit down in her chair. "What?""I asked, wiping the remainder of the juice off my chin. She smiled laughingly at me as she sat down heavily. "Nothing," she said, her smile fading. "Have a nice sleep?" I asked, changing the subject away from me. Jody turned to look at me over the rim of her orange juice, but her eyes weren't smiling. They were sort of deep and serious. "Had a strange dream, I think," she answered, her eyes taking on a far-away look while she tried to remember it. Then she looked back at me directly. "A strange dream." And then she quickly lowered her gaze and looked at the floor, tapping her foot to the beat of the music. I looked away from her and finished my orange drink, not very convinced about anything at that point, except that the orange juice tasted very good on my dry throat as I swallowed it down. I stretched my legs out and relaxed into the music, letting it carry me away with its driving melodies for a few moments before I was startled back to reality by a tap on my arm. It was Jody, holding out her hand for my empty glass. I looked directly into her eyes. "Sleep time," I said firmly. Her eyebrows arched and her eyes widened in surprise at what I'd said. "What?" she asked, her brow furrowing. "Sleep time," I repeated, staring hard into her eyes. Then watched satisfied as her eyelids closed down and she visibly relaxed in front of me while she stood there. "Are you hypnotized again?" I asked, after waiting about a minute. "Yes," she answered. "When I awaken you, you will go and make us some dinner, and all the time you're making it you'll be noticing very strongly a very sexual connection with me that you've never noticed before that will seem perfectly comfortable for you, even if it is different to the way you usually think of me." I watched her face to see if there was any change whatsoever to what I was suggesting. There was none. "The feeling will grow in intensity all the while we're eating our dinner, with you becoming more and more sexually attracted to me as the evening goes on, until you can't stand it anymore without letting me know how you feel about me, and you will want to do something about it, but you will not be game to ask. So, you will somehow bring our conversation always around to sex and making love and take every opportunity to show me that you are turned on very strongly by my presence. You will try and think of a way to get me to make the advances toward you in a sexual manner, to which you will respond very strongly, and achieve what you wish, which is the two of making love tonight. Do you understand all of that?" "Yes," she replied. "Count up to three in your mind and forget everything you've just heard. Your subconscious will remember and allow you to think of every thought you are going to have from this moment onward as your own idea, from the minute you walk into the kitchen. Count up to three now," I instructed her. "Thanks, Jode," I said when she opened her eyes, handing her my empty glass. "Huh?" she said, surprise in her eyes and on her face. "I...err...oh...That's okay. I'll...ahh...I'll get us some dinner. Okay?" "Sure. Thanks," I said, closing my eyes and tapping my fingers to the beat of the music, my heart thumping and my pulse racing. I could hear my own heartbeat and wondered why she couldn't. It sounded deafening to me. Dinner went off without a hitch. Jody kept glancing at me during the whole time, I pretended not to notice and made small talk about any rubbish I could think of. At one stage, she seemed to be getting annoyed with me for prattling on about nothing. I helped her with the washing up and couldn't help noticing her arm or thigh brush against me somewhere as she put the dishes away and reached for different things. I'm sure she could have avoided me if she'd wanted to. I kept my attention focused on what I was doing and ignored her touches completely. When we'd finished, she left the kitchen saying she was going to have her shower, her face showing a mixture of concern, and seemingly deep in thought about something or other. I walked back into the lounge and sat down in my favorite chair, wondering what thoughts were going around in my sister's mind. I hadn't even thought about the right and wrong of what I was doing. I wasn't hurting her. In fact, I planned to do the opposite, and I knew she was on the pill. I settled down to listen to the tape that was on. When it finished, I put one of my own into the deck and waited for her to come back down dressed in her pajamas and an old robe like she always did. "Would you like a cold drink?" I heard her say, bringing my eyes open to the sight of her, not as I expected to see, but wearing a short nightie with no bra, and a see-through nightie at that. She was standing in front of me. Right in front of me. Her face was serious and she was blushing. "That would be nice. Thanks," I smiled at her. She smiled weakly back, and I could see some of the tension leave her face instantly as she smiled. Some of it. She was back quickly, holding my glass out for me to take, but before I could reach out and take it, she leaned forward toward me and handed it right down to me. My gaze fell directly onto her breasts, easily seen as her nightie came open when she bent forward. Her breasts looked wonderful, full and with pointed and stiff nipples. I looked up into her eyes after taking the glass she offered me and saw her still blushing. She looked quickly away and straightened up, then went to her chair and sat down with her own drink at her lips. I took a sip of my juice. Then, "Jody?" I said, turning to face her. "Hmm?" she answered. "Are you okay?" "I..ah..yeah. Just feel a bit restless, I think. Sort of...err...funny," she got out hesitatingly. "Okay. Just thought I'd ask," I said, then turned back to closing my eyes and listening to George Benson on the tape. He was my favorite. Slow and dreamy. Just the sort of mood I was in. As I sat there with my eyes closed, I wondered what Jody was thinking, and more importantly, how she was feeling within herself. I had to admit I was certainly stirring in the depths of my own center. "Sammy?" I heard her call softly above the music. "Huh?" "Ah..oh, nothing." I opened my eyes and turned to look at her. She was staring at the floor, sitting on her chair with her feet up on the lounge, her arms wrapped around her knees as if she was hugging herself. "What's the matter, Jode?" I asked in a concerned voice. "You seem restless or something." She turned her face to me. It was serious and a little flushed. "I don't know," she said with a sigh. "I've been having the most unusual thoughts and...ahhh...feelings." "What kind of thoughts and feelings?" I probed. Jody looked away for a few seconds before finally turning back to face me with her answer. "About...err...sex," she got out with a sigh. "Aren't you and Billy getting on anymore?" I asked. Billy was her current boyfriend of two months. Jody was pretty choosy. Billy was lucky, I always thought. "No. Not about Billy. This isn't about me and Billy. It's about me and...ohhhh," she said and never finished as she turned away again and stared at the floor. "Well? Who then?" I pressed her, feeling a bit guilty about what I was doing all of a sudden. "I've been having thoughts about...you and...and me," she said softly, keeping her gaze on the floor. "What?" I said, sounding surprised. Then I got up out of the chair and walked to stand in front of her, then sank down to my knees in front of her. "You've have been having thoughts about sex between...you...and me?" She nodded her head and closed her eyes. "I know how awful that must sound. You must think I'm a terrible sister, but I...I...I don't know why all of a sudden. But I do. And they're really strong." I reached up and unclasped her arms from around her knees. Her eyebrows arched, but she did not try and stop me. Then I gently pressed her knees apart, exposing her panties to my gaze. Then I looked her straight in the eye as I said, "Would you like me to touch you in your secret place, Jode?" Her eyes closed and she sighed. Then her head nodded slowly. Her eyes remained closed. I reached out with my right hand and slipped it under the band of her panties between her legs, feeling instantly the wetness and the warmth already waiting for me there. Jody sucked in her breath in a little gasp as my finger circled slowly over her jewel. My left hand reached up and found her right breast soft to grasp and squeeze gently, bringing a small, soft moan from her open lips. But her eyes remained tightly closed. Her face relaxed and calm, but well and truly flushed. Her knees widened as she relaxed all over, feeling the action of my fingers change from her jewel to slowly penetrate her very slick channel to its very depth. "Oooohhhh.....Saaammmmyyyy," Jody moaned softly in a long, drawn-out sigh. "You like that?" I asked, squeezing her breast and pressing gently on her cervix at the back of her warm, wet channel. "OoohhhhJeeesssuussss," came her answer as I pressed and squeezed at the same time. My sister's breathing turned to a panting kind of gasping as it deepened with my penetrations of her center and squeezing of her other breast. Her lips parted widely and her tongue began to snake around them, moistening them. God, she looked beautiful at that moment in time. "Jody?" I asked softly. Her eyes half-opened to look at me. They were deep and milky. "I want to kiss your lips," I said. She just nodded her head slowly and shifted her feet to the floor, widening her knees so that I could move between them.My fingers continued to move inside her slick core, and my other hand remained cupping her left breast. Her eyes remained fixed on mine as I moved between her legs. Then, leaning further forward, I brought my lips slowly down onto my sister's mouth, covering it completely. She sighed into my mouth as my tongue found and danced with hers. My excitement at what I was actually doing drove my pulse and heart into overdrive. I could feel Jody's heartbeat thumping wildly beneath my hand over her left breast. I timed the thrust of my tongue into her mouth with the sliding up inside her wet channel with my fingers. Then slowly, I dragged them back out of her, rubbing them along the ridges on the side of her shaft. Jody groaned deeply into my throat, then suddenly threw her arms around me and squeezed the life out of me as she thrust her hips deeper onto my fingers. Then her hips jerked and convulsed beyond her control. She gasped loudly. "Oooohh! Ssaammmy! Oooh, God! Ooohhhhhhhhhhhhyyyeeeessssssss! OooohhyhhhhhhhhhJeeeeessssssuusss! Oooohhhyyeyeeessssssss!" she cried into my ear as her orgasm swept over her from head to toe, over and over again. I could feel her channel gripping me and letting me go, over and over again while she climaxed. Then she froze, held it for a few seconds, then collapsed against me, her breathing harsh and fast in my ear as she continued to hold me tightly. I held her close for several minutes, feeling my first real sense of sibling love in its essence. Then I slowly removed my hand from her breast and then slowly withdrew my fingers from her molten core. She moaned softly as I did so. "Look here," I said softly. As she opened her eyes to focus on me, I brought my wet fingers to my lips and gently inserted them into my mouth, bringing them out again with smiling eyes. "I love you," I said softly. All the time, she had watched intently as I cleaned her nectar from my fingers with my mouth, but when I told her what I was feeling in my heart at that point, her eyes misted, then welled fully with tears that overflowed down her cheeks. She leaned forward and threw her arms around me, holding me and sniffing in my ear. My heart was swelling. My sister and I were really having a special moment at that point. "I love you too, Sammy. I just ... I just never realised.. how much before," she whispered hesitatingly into my ear. After a few more minutes of clinging to one another as if we were drowning, I released her and myself from her grip, sat back on my haunches, and smiled warmly at her. She smiled back at me. "Feel better now?" I said lovingly. Before I knew what was happening, she launched herself off her chair and threw herself on top of me, hugging me fiercely and sniffing in my ear, telling me over and over that she loved me. I started hugging her back and rolled her over onto her back. Her lips found mine, and we kissed more passionately than I had ever kissed a girl before in my life. Her tongue became ferocious as it twisted like a snake in my mouth, duelling my own at every turn. It was at that point in my relationship with my sister that the whole thing, for me, stopped being a game of experimentation. At that precise point in time, I fell head over heels in love with my sister Jody. We sat up and removed each other's clothes slowly and deliberately until we were both naked. We kissed deeply as each piece of clothing had fallen away, and now we just sat and stared deeply into one another's eyes. What she saw, I couldn't say, but what I saw would be enough to keep my love for her alive in my heart for the rest of my life. I sat back on my butt on the carpet and held out my hands to her. Her eyes fell to my groin, and she smiled when she looked up again. She moved toward me and then straddled me, lowering herself slowly until my presence touched the wetness of her warm, furry apex. I moaned, and she gasped. "Ohhh, Sammy," she breathed into my face. And then she lowered herself slowly downward onto my girth and length. "Aaaahhhhhh," she breathed and gasped at the same time as her capacity engulfed me fully until she was firmly settled, our pubic hair matting as one as she brought her legs and heels around my back and settled more comfortably on my lap. Her arms came up around my shoulders while my hands found her breasts and began to fondle them with feeling. "Ooohhh, Jodyyyy," I breathed as I closed my lips fully over her mouth while we sat in a sort of Tantric love position. We kissed long and deeply, her hips circling me, gently thrusting back and forth whenever she interrupted her circling motion, pressing her pubis against me for some soft friction of her jewel against my groin. Whenever she did that, it would deepen my penetration of her, bringing a little gasp from her mouth and down into my throat as my length pressed gently against the neck of her womb and the back of her cervix. I wasn't in a position to thrust deeply, but it didn't matter. I was as deeply imbedded inside my own sister's body as was physically possible at that time. I could feel myself expanding as I approached my peak. At the same time, her circling action increased, as did the interrupted thrusting action into my groin with her mons. Then I began leaning backwards and forwards as she continued to circle herself on that which she was so deeply and firmly impaled. Our mouths remained glued together, breathing as one as we each raced up pleasure's mountain together. Our breaths became pants and then gasps deep into each other's throat. Our bodies seemed to take on minds of their own as our hips rolled and rocked, circled and thrust, with each action taking away more and more of our conscious control until finally, our arms were all that we consciously controlled. We held on tightly as our lower halves became one in their union of sibling loving. Faster and faster she circled on me. Faster and faster did I rock us back and forth, until finally, the compounding result of both our separate, yet unified motions of loins and internal joining tipped us over the edge of passion's mountain in one mind-blowing, flesh-gripping dive into the abyss of sibling pleasure. Jody screamed loudly into my throat, breaking her mouth from mine and clinging to me as if her life depended on it. Her fingernails sliced painful grooves into the muscled flesh of my back and shoulders as my hands found her fleshy buttocks and pulled her to me again and again and again and again. I groaned my release as I bit down into the soft, salty flesh of her shoulder, sinking my teeth deeply without knowing it, and hearing her cry of pain fall deafly onto my ears. Her buttocks became my hands as I crushed her groin to mine as it jerked with its own mind and action. Feeling myself emptying into my sister's belly over and over and over, pulsing and flooding her heated walls of capture while we held one another in love, allowing our lower halves now to love in the manner God intended, until finally, we both gasped together, and then sighed together as we eased off on the tightness of our grip on one another. And then finally, we relaxed our grip altogether. We leaned away a little way and held each other's gaze. My eyes filled with tears as I saw the heart's love her gaze had for me. And then she leaned forward and hugged me tightly once again. As she did that, I felt her insides move on me, and then she hugged me from the inside as well. Then slowly, she lifted herself off me and rose to her feet, smiled, and walked away. I watched her buttocks go with my heart swelling with love and wondered if I'd ever feel the same about other girls again. I lay back and groaned with exhaustion, suddenly feeling very tired, wishing I could allow her to remember everything we had felt toward one another during our loving, and not having to make her forget. I closed my eyes and let my mind drift, wondering if I'd ever be the same again in any way. I knew I loved my sister in a way now that perhaps was never intended I should, but I did, and that was that. My eyes filled with tears when I realised that she had only loved me in the manner she had because I had hypnotised her to feel that way about me. Then I sat up and angrily brushed away my tears of stupidity, knowing I was getting exactly what I deserved. Jody came back into the room then, padding across the carpet toward me and sitting down at my feet. She was still naked, and she was still beautiful. I held her gaze in mine. Her eyes were deep and milky. "I...I love you, Jode," I managed to get out, a thick lump forming in my throat as I said it. Her eyes misted and glossed instantly as she smiled a half-smile. "I love you too, Sammy," she answered just as sincerely. "You know you're hypnotised, Jode. Don't you?" I confessed, holding her gaze. Her eyebrows arched for a minute, then relaxed as her smile widened. "I've always loved you, Sammy," she replied to my confession. "I've just never had the courage to express it before." I smiled then, and so did she. "Sleep time," I told her softly. "What?" "Sleep time, Jode," I repeated a little more firmly, and then watched her eyes close shut as she relaxed from head to toe in front of my eyes. My heart was full, and my throat only just agreed to comply with me as I took my sister through the forgetting routine. I had her go upstairs and shower, then dress in the nightwear she usually dressed in whenever she was in front of me. When she came back downstairs again, I sat her back in her own chair and told her to wait and sleep while I showered and dressed in the way she usually saw me of a night time. When I returned downstairs, she was sleeping peacefully in her chair. I walked over to her and sat down on the arm of her chair, resisting the urge to hold her one last, loving time in the manner I wanted."You'll never remember this, Jody," I said to her softly. "but I love you with all my heart, and I always will. Your subconscious will remember though, and maybe, with time, it will allow your conscious mind to know about what we shared tonight, and maybe forgive me for loving you this way. Count yourself up from twenty now and when you reach twenty you'll be wide awake and feeling very good about your life in every way, forgetting everything that happened tonight and everything you felt and experienced. You'll feel wonderful, but a little tired and will excuse yourself and go upstairs to bed. When your head touches the pillow you'll fall into the deepest, most relaxing sleep you've ever had and wake up feeling absolutely terrific in the morning. All your old feelings toward me will return, thinking nothing more toward me than with the feelings of your brother that you've always had. Do it now Jody." I closed my eyes feigning sleep while she silently counted herself back up to full wakefulness. When she tapped me softly on the shoulders, I opened my eyes slowly as if I'd been dozing. I smiled at her smiling face looking down at me. She stood beside my chair. "I'm feeling a bit tired, Sammy," she said softly. "I'm going up to bed. See you in the morning. Okay?" I could have sworn I saw tears in her eyes, or maybe that was because I had tears in my own suddenly and couldn't see that well anyway. I lowered my head and closed my eyes, pretending to doze again. "Sure, Jode. Good night. Sweet dreams," I answered dreamily. I waited about fifteen minutes or so before going up to bed myself. My parents would be home any time now and I didn't feel in the mood to hear about what a great time they had. Sleep was a long time coming to me that night, and when it finally did I dreamed of Jody, I swear, right through the night until I opened my eyes when the alarm went off at seven-thirty in the morning. All of that was ten years ago now. Jodie finished school and got married to Billy and had two kids, while I married a girl from out of town. I have two children of my own. The story did have a happy ending after all, contrary to what I might have thought after that first night we made love. Six weeks after that night it was my birthday. It had been a great day and I'd fallen into bed exhausted after the party had finished that my parents had let me have at our house. Jody had helped me clean up the mess, which had been a requirement of my parents for letting me have the party in the first place. After that, we'd both gone to our respective bedrooms almost out of it with fatigue. I'd been in bed about ten minutes when a soft knock came on my door. The door opened and someone came in and closed the door. I sat up, curious. Maybe it was Mum. It wasn't. It was Jodie. She climbed into bed with me and held me tightly to herself. She was naked. "I love you, Sammy," she whispered into my ear. "I remember everything. I remember everything, and I'll never forget. I love you with all my heart and soul." I never said a word. I couldn't. I could feel the warmth of her tears on my neck as my own eyes smarted instantly, taking me back down memory lane. I held her close to me for several long minutes, my heart just bursting with love for my sister who remembered and loved me just as she was, fully awake. I sought and found her eager, warm lips and mouth waiting for me. And that was the way the story never ended. Jody and I meet once a year, not always at the same time, but always in the same manner. Somewhere, someplace, somehow, we always manage it. And it's always like the first time. Absolutely incredible and very beautiful and loving. And it's been like that now for the past ten years, every year. I'm happy to say that we still feel the same way about each other as we did on that very first night. We may not be right in the eyes of the rest of the world in our views on sibling love, or in what we do, or the way we love as brother and sister, but we're happy, and once a year we show and share that love for each other in the way we first learned how, thanks to a tape I'd made that had been intended for other women, but was never used again after that night. I still have it, but I don't think it will ever see the light of day again. A happy ending (by Mesmer)

Chapter I

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/17341.txt

Chew Toy

Helpdesk

"Help desk." "Hi, I... wow, you have a nice voice." "Thanks. Can I help you with your problem?" "Really sexy and low." "Thank you. What's your problem?" "Oh, yeah-- sorry. Um, I'm having trouble with my computer." "What sort of trouble?" "My email won't work." "You can't get email?" "Well, no, I can get some email, but not all of it." "What do you mean, not all of it?" "It won't let me read my messages!" "How do you know that you have messages?" "It says I have messages, but it won't let me read them!" "What happens when you try to read them?" "It won't let me!" "Hang on. What sort of mailer are you using?" "The computer mailer." "Ok, but what's the name of the software?" "How would I know that?" "If you have the program running, it should be at the top of the window." "Where it says 'FooMail 3.7'?" "Yes, that's it. Ok, under that it says you have messages? How many?" "Just one." "Ok, there should be a button marked 'Read Messages'. Click on that, and tell me what happens." "It says it can't." "What exactly does it say?" "It says 'Skipping 1 message(s) with attachments.... no messages read.' Oh, hey, my friend tried to send me a gif file, could that be the problem?" "It could be. Did you try telling it to accept mail with attachments?" "It won't read it! It keeps telling me it won't!" "Ah. Say, did you say this was version 3.7?" "What?" "You said 'FooMail 3.7'" "Oh. Yeah." "There's a problem with this version with attachments, but there's a patch. You can download it over the web. Can you bring up a web browser?" "Is that like Netscape?" "Yes. Give it this address: www.misc.edu/users/ssha/sp.html" "Ok... it's loading something... there's a big spiral." "Yes, it shows that while it's downloading, so you don't get bored. It's a big file, so while you're waiting you can watch the spiral." "Watch the spiral?" "Yes, it's meant to catch your eye. Isn't it pretty? But it also shows how the download is going, so it's important to watch it very closely. Do you see the place in the center where all the lines seem to vanish? Like a hole in the middle, pulling everything into it?" "Yes..." "That's the part to watch. If you pay close attention to what's happening to the lines as they get pulled deeper and deeper into the spiral... drawn irresistably into the spiral... sucked in deeper and deeper... can you feel how they get pulled in?" "Yes..." "Yes, it's a very strong pull, isn't it? You can just feel how it draws everything in. How it pulls in your eyes and your attention and sucks you deeper and deeper... listening to my voice as you fall deeper and deeper... so hard to resist the pull of the spiral, isn't it?" "Yes..." "Yes, it's impossible to resist. You just stare deeper and deeper and listen to my voice... listen to my voice and follow my instructions... following all of my instructions. You will do what I tell you now, won't you?" "Yes..." "Yes, that's very good. Now I want you to look at your mail program. Do you still have it open?" "Yes..." "Do you see the button at the bottom marked 'Accept Attachments'?" "Yes..." "Is the box next to it checked?" "No..." "I want you to click on that button. Do that for me now." "Yes..." "Good... very good. Tell me, do you like my voice?" "Yes..." "Feels very good to listen to my voice, doesn't it? Does it turn you on to listen to my voice?" "Yes..." "Are you touching yourself?" "No..." "Why not? Is anyone else there?" "No..." "I want you to unzip your pants and stick your hand in them now. What kind of underwear are you wearing? Briefs or boxers?" "Boxers..." "Good. It's easy to stick your hand inside them, isn't it? Are you touching yourself now?" "Yes... oh..." "Are you hard for me?" "Yes..." "Good. Pull your cock out so it sticks straight out in the air for me. I love to see a hard naked cock poking out in the air. And I love to watch a guy jack off, knowing that he's thinking about me. I want you to come for me soon. Can you do that?" "Yes... oh, yes..." "Good. I want you to know how good it feels to call the tech line, while you come for me. I want you to remember how good it made you feel, when you called this number. It feels sooo good, doesn't it?" "Yes... yes..." "Yes, I can help you with *all* your problems. It's amazing how many things can seem like problems, when you want to call me. How you can get so stuck on any excuse to call this number again... and again... and again. Ooh, you're so close, aren't you?" "Yes! Oh..." "Yes. Remember how much you *need* to call this number. So much that you don't need to remember anything else. The details don't matter... it's so fuzzy, so hard to remember, when you're so hard for me, so close to coming. Come for me. Come and forget. Everything except the need to call. The need to call this number. Come NOW." "Oh! Oh... oh... oh..." *Click* "Hah." "Hah? Must have been good. Hey, Sash, thanks for covering the phone for me while I took a wizz." "No problem. Oh, and Gary, remember how pissed I was at you when you puked on my best leather jacket?" "Yeah?" "Forget about it. I shouldn't have gotten so mad. Consider it water under the bridge."

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/16679.txt

E.Z. Riter

The Ultimate Mind Control

"Dr. Richard McRichards, Code 10, SRL 2; Dr. Richard McRichards, Code 10, SRL 2" "Oh, no," Dr. McRichards groaned in disappointment as he stopped, pulling his cock out of the woman he was fucking. "No, baby, I need you in me," she whimpered. "Please, please, fuck me some more. I need your big cock." "Inactive," he said, noting her strong resemblance to Yasmine Bleeth. He saw her eyes flutter in response to the programmed command as she relaxed and drifted off to sleep. He tried to stuff his stiff pecker back down inside his pants and tuck in his shirt. While everyone knew he was very involved in quality control, there was no need to flaunt it. He hurried down the hall toward the laboratory area. "Doctor," he said to Bruce Davenport, his trusted assistant. "Doctor," Bruce replied. "What is the problem, doctor?" "The $20,000,000 woman is in the building, doctor. They have her through preliminaries, measurements, basic interrogation and IQ sections. She will be in the SRL in a moment." Dr. McRichards looked around, noting the continual movement of people, all busy at their jobs, which was to be expected in a well-run, major company. He smiled, thinking how the company made $20 million pure after-tax profit last year and he owned it, lock, stock and barrel. Next month should be the best month in the company's history. That is when the conditioning of Lisa Winters would be finished, and his client would pay him $20 million for her. It was the highest price he had ever received for a woman. Lisa Winters. She was only seventeen, but his client had specified her. His investigation revealed a unique young woman. Besides placing in the top three in a national teen beauty pageant and winning Miss Congeniality, she was the valedictorian of one of the finest prep schools in America with an IQ of 172. Moreover, she was reputed to be bubbly, positive, very sweet and very, very sexy. "EMERGENCY! Security, Code Red 11, SRL 2. Security, Code Red 11, SRL 2." "What the hell?" McRichards exclaimed. He grabbed a vapor protection mask off the wall, snapping it around his head. He had not heard a "Red 11" called in years. Pheromone overload. The smell of pussy. It could drive a man mad. Security men rushed by him, headed for the lab entry corridor. "I can walk by myself," he heard a female voice say. His initial thought was of bell chimes. His second thought was the sound of the Sirens, those mythical Greek characters whose voice lured men to their doom. All movement in the hall had ceased. Two men without masks ran screaming by him, their minds overloaded, their trousers tented. Then, there was not a sound. He saw security and other personnel backing up out of the corridor. He saw her. You must understand that since Dr. Richard McRichards founded CyberPersonnel ten years ago, quality control was the key to his success. Every single placement had to be a wild, wonderful, hot, sweating, hard fucking woman. He had personally conducted quality control of the approximately 10,000 women his firm had located, acquired, trained and sold to clients around the world. Every one of them was special. Every one of them was sexy, sensual, and beautiful. Since his firm was now processing approximately five women a day, five days a week, and Dr. McRichards' quality control with each of them lasted approximately two hours, he was spending fifty hours a week fucking the most beautiful, slutty, well-trained sex slaves in the world. It was a hard job, but somebody had to do it. However, as a result, Dr. McRichards was becoming jaded to the beauty of the female form. So, you can only imagine how good Lisa Winters looked when Dr. Dick said, "Jesus Christ. Look at that!" She was walking toward him like a lioness stalking her prey. His cock was hard as steel, and he was quivering. Every man in sight had the same response. Suddenly, her eyes began to flutter, and she fell to the floor at his feet, unconscious. The spell was broken. The staff quickly returned to action. Lisa Winters was carefully lifted and taken to SRL 2. "Bruce, I want a security report immediately. And, I need damages. We must find out what caused this." "Immediately, doctor," came the response. Dr. Dick watched through the glass window as Lisa was laid on the gynecological examining table, which was standard equipment in all the Sexual Response Laboratories. He saw security attach the restraints to her wrists, then fit her feet in the stirrups, opening her legs, making her available. The ankle restraints were quickly fastened. He could not take his eyes off her. Either feature by feature or considered as a package, she was the most perfect woman he had ever seen. Her head was slightly raised on the pillow, her rich, full, red lips slightly parted as she slept. Her golden hair, which sparkled even in the lab's fluorescent lights, lay around her like spun gold. Everything was perfect: her nose, her dimples, her eyebrows and lashes. He was so stunned by her face that he had not even looked below her neck yet, and that is saying something. He watched as the lab technicians put all the measuring and evaluating equipment in place. He moved to look toward that sweetness between her legs. A more beautiful pussy he had never seen. It was a perfect rose. He could see the juice dripping from her and the swollen, full lips. "Walters!" he snapped. "Yes, sir," his trusted aide replied, stepping to his side. "Has she been sexually stimulated? Has anyone touched her?" "I will check, doctor." Dr. Dick was mesmerized as he watched the young beauty laying so inert. Her eyes began to flutter. "No! Where am I?" she wailed. He ran to her side. "Are you from Mars? Have I been captured by aliens?" she sobbed. "Sorry," he mumbled as he removed the gas mask. Pheromone hit him like an ocean wave, almost knocking him over. He tried to clear his head. "Lisa?" "Yes. Who are you?" "I am Dr. McRichards. You are safe. No harm will come to you here." "I am naked. Please, why am I naked and attached to this table?" "We are going to run some tests on you, dear. That is all." She began to cry. "Give her five ccs of BMC2 stat," Dr. Dick ordered the nurse at his side. The nurse quickly drew the medicine from its container with a needle. She was reaching for Lisa's arm when "Wait! That may be the problem!" "What is, doctor?" "BMC2. Has she been given any previously?" "I will check, doctor," the nurse replied. "Dr. McRichards?" "Yes, Walters?" "No one has given her any sex drugs or sexually stimulated her." Dr. Dick looked back at Lisa, who had stopped crying and was watching them intently. "Has anyone touched you sexually, Lisa?" "Of course. I mean, I am seventeen." "No, dear. I meant here, today?" "No, sir," she answered, disappointment evident in her voice. Dr. Dick led his team out of earshot. "It may be the whole sexual explosion was generated by her naturally." "No way! No woman has that much sexual power," Dr. Bruce exclaimed. "No woman we have tested, you mean," Dr. Dick replied. They looked back at the girl on the table who was staring at them. "Reinforce her ankle and wrist restraints. Add upper arm restraints and around the knee. Then, start the tests." "Yes, sir," came the swift reply. The Sexual Response Laboratory was designed to test, monitor and evaluate sexual data about women. Besides monitoring blood pressure, pulse, heart rate, and other such items, the Laboratory had developed other tests. The SEEG was the Sexual Electroencephalogram to measure brain waves and chemistry. Several tests measured the power of her kissing, the heat of her skin, the physical impact of her touch (in pounds per square inch). The PIP (Pussy Internal Pressure) test measured the amount and direction of force applied by vaginal muscles at a depth of four inches. The DPIP (Deep PIP) measured at eight inches. The PEP (Pussy External Pressure) test measured force at one-half inch and included the effect of the inner lips. The PIT (Pussy Internal Temperature) test measured the heat of the pussy itself at four inches. The most sophisticated and newest test was the PIWA (Pussy Internal Wave Action) test.This measured the effect of the internal pussy muscles to create a wave-like motion to draw the male cock deeper into itself and massage it there. Research showed the PIWA factor to be essential to ultimate physical pleasure. It was the POP (Pussy Odor Power) test McRichards believed to be the most crucial in this instance. It measured the release of female pheromones at the labia and at five feet away. Dr. Richard McRichards stared down at his pants. He checked his watch. He had now been constantly hard for almost two hours and just from watching Lisa Winters. Never in his life had a woman had this effect on him. He noted the men in the area were all tenting. The ones in the lab itself appeared almost to be in agony, and they could not take their eyes off her. Suddenly, they saw Lisa's hips begin to undulate. The lab technician grabbed for a vapor mask, but he was too late. His screams of madness filled the air as he buried his face between Lisa's legs. The loud slurping sounds drowned out her moans of desire as he slurped away, never breathing, never wanting his intake of her to end, until he fell dead. It was a horrible sight. They would autopsy to determine if he suffocated or died of a... er, heart attack. Lisa gasped and fainted, her needs temporarily met. Dr. McRichards called an emergency security meeting. The staff was close to panic. His organization was in danger. It was then his assistant had a brilliant idea. "Capture her mother. Bring her here. Maybe she can shed light on this problem." "Brilliant idea, doctor." "Thank you, doctor." "In the meantime, doctor, continue the testing with additional anti-chemical-warfare protection." "Yes, doctor." Hours later, Dr. McRichards stood over Lisa Winters. He looked at this beautiful, sweet young woman. Then, he looked back at his test results. Every test... every single goddamned test... they gave her showed she was so far over maximum, they could not measure it. No woman could have this much sexual power. He had to risk a personal interview. "Lisa," he asked, his voice muffled by the brand new high-tech Vapor Lock 2000 gas mask. "Yes, doctor," she replied softly, her voice like the sounds of angels' wings. Why did he have the desire to fall to his knees and beg to kiss her pussy every time she spoke? His audio testing procedures, which were still in development, needed to be brought to production immediately. "Have you had problems with men before?" "Oh, no, sir. All men do what I want them to." "I know that!" McRichards thought. "No, dear. I mean, do you cause men to go mad, into convulsions, that sort of thing." "Just once. My mother taught me how to control it." He fought the desire to kneel. "Your mother?" "Yes. She is really the beautiful and sexy one in the family." "WHAT!!" "My mother is the beautiful and sexy one," Lisa said. "NOOOO!" he thought. The mother had been captured. She was in the building. McRichards ran from the SRL. The first thing he noticed was the deathly quiet in the hallway. Where was everyone? Then, he heard the sound of laughter. It was coming his way. Quickly, he injected a dose of anti-chemical protection into his arm. The noise was getting closer. Then, he saw her. If Lisa Winters was a Mercedes, Stella Winters was a Rolls Royce. If Lisa was a princess, Stella was a queen. She was the mold from which Lisa was made. But, now thirty-five and in the full flower of her femininity, she made Lisa pale by comparison. He knew it was all over. He knew it was too late. A lifetime's work... destroyed. Dr. Richard McRichards could not move. Stella was walking toward him, her eyes holding him in place like a tractor beam from the Enterprise. He could only do what men have done for millennia when faced by insurmountable danger. He prayed. "Please, God. Don't let her undress." Stella's mouth curled in a sweet, shy, and very sexy smile as she stopped before the frozen scientist. "Dickie," she said softly. He felt the chains surround his mind. "Here, let me remove that ugly old mask. Now, isn't that better." Pheromone flowed over him. He thought he would lose consciousness, but her finger under his chin kept him alert. "It's OK, Dickie. I will not hurt you," she said as she kissed him. The feelings of being enveloped in pure goodness, like returning to the womb, flowed from her lips to his. Her nipples against his chest were a counterpoint, like two small electric prods sending raw power through him. He felt faint from the blood rushing from his head to his cock, which was filled to bursting. "Is my daughter safe?" Stella asked. "Yes," he whimpered. "I knew you were a good man and wouldn't hurt my baby. Thanks for keeping her safe, Dickie." The pressure of her fingers on his arm was the equivalent, in terms of physical characteristics, of a light summer breeze, but it was the equivalent of three NFL linemen holding him when measured in control of the subject. "How can I make you happy, Stella?" he gasped. "I am just like any woman," she said shyly. "I need a big strong man to care for me. I need a husband, Dickie." Lisa Winters dropped out of high school. Now, executive vice president and director of male operations at CyberPersonnel, she and her mother were responsible for the changes in corporate policies and operations which had doubled Company profit in a year by training and selling men as well as women. Like her stepfather, she believed quality control was the key to success. For that reason, she did it personally. Naked, legs spread, Lisa was in her office on her quality control testing apparatus (called a bed when not for official company use). Between her legs was a man who was a dead ringer for George Clooney and had a foot-long cock. Lisa was hot and sweaty. She had orgasmed eleven times with Subject 00769, as the man had been renamed when taken by CyberPersonnel. But, he had been sold to the woman Prime Minister of a major foreign power, and CyberPersonnel wanted him to be perfect. This was an opportunity to penetrate new markets, so to speak. She groaned and tightened her legs around him as orgasm twelve flowed over her. "Now, take a deep breath," she ordered, pushing the man between her legs. She felt the breeze tickle her clit as he inhaled. "Like that smell, 69?" she said, calling him by his nick-number. "Yes, Miss Winters," he moaned. "I can never get enough." "That is the whole point," she thought. She kissed his cheek and dismissed him. "Please, Miss Winters, we have been screwing for an hour and I have not orgasmed. May I cum?" "Your new owner will be here shortly, 69. I am sure she would love having your huge balls unloaded in her." "Thank you, Miss Winters," he whimpered as he left for the Exit Station, carefully holding his bloated and painful balls. Lisa slipped on a robe to go see her parents. When she exited her office, two technicians walking by fell to their knees, sobbing. "Damn. I need to shower. I cannot let my pheromone interfere with smooth corporate operations." Now clean, her blonde hair still wet around her head, Lisa walked through the halls of CyberPersonnel. "Hi, Dr. Bruce. Where are mom and dad?" "They are in their office, Lisa," the doctor replied, feeling his erection snap upward as his knees buckled and he kneeled. She opened the door and smiled, seeing her stepfather naked and on his back, her mother over him, his cock buried in her. Lisa could see the barely perceptible movement of her mother's body. Dr. McRichards looked as if rigor mortis had set in, totally stiff and death-like. "Mom, how long has it been?" "Three hours and five minutes, honey." "Isn't that a long time for a man to fuck? I mean, has he been in you the whole time?" "We are going for a new record. Anyway, he loves it. Don't you, Dickie?" Stella brushed her nipple across his cheek. She enjoyed seeing him jump when she did that. It was as if she had put a cattle prod to his skin. His involuntary twitch was his only movement... except for a smile which grew across his face.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/10710.txt

Dafney Dewitt

Redemption

"Justice is justice though it's always delayed and finally done only by mistake." -George Bernard Shaw "Redemption" (c) 1998 by Dafney Dewitt "In the Criminal Justice System, the people are represented by two separate but equal groups, the police who investigate crime and the District Attorneys who prosecute the offenders. These are their stories." 328 E. 47th Street New York City The Fantasy Club Saturday July 2nd The owner of the Fantasy Club, Luther Stone, stared in fascination at the stage where a silicone-enhanced blonde pumped her hips toward the audience in perfect timing with the rhythmic thump of the music. But Luther was not watching the naked dancer. His eyes focused on a fresh-faced young man sitting in the front row. The kid's face was filled with unabashed awe, worshipping the smooth pale body of the dancing girl. His open mouth formed a small 'O' like a surprised fish. Seeing such awe-struck fascination was rare. For most patrons of stripper bars, the fantasy was gone. Their sense of wonder eroded by time. With time, the kid would change too. His face would lose its innocence. The kid's face. Luther Stone knew that look. It was a look that reminded him of himself, as a young kid, the first time he had been in a stripper bar. Back then, there was no total nudity. Women stripped to pasties and G-Strings. But they captured Stone's attention. He was entranced by their beautiful bodies, wanting to devour them with his eyes. That was a long time ago. Prison had changed him. Now he was hard. Now when he looked at strippers, all he saw were whores, or drug addicts. For Stone, there was no more mystery in sex. No matter how beautiful, every woman had a price. In the dark shadows, at the edge of the stage, the kid's hand pumped up and down. It was a familiar motion, but it was all wrong. His hand was way too high. There was no way the kid could be stroking his cock. He would have had to have been hung like King-Kong. Intrigued, Stone gave a nod to his bouncer, Guido. He pointed to the kid, and Guido brought him to Stone. "Am I in trouble?" "No," said Stone. "What's your name?" "I'm Tommy Kincaid." Tommy stuck his hand out expecting Luther Stone to shake it. Stone shook his head slowly from side to side and ignored the extended hand. From the silly grin on Tommy's face, it was obvious that he was mentally challenged. It explained the look of wonder on Tommy's face. It was the dumb look. Stone regretted calling this retarded man over to his table. But it did not explain what Tommy Kincaid had been doing with his hand while he watched the strippers. "What were you doing with your hand?" asked Stone. "Stroking my lucky foot." The young man held up a large rabbit's foot attached to a key chain. Luther Stone smiled. Tommy Kincaid gave Stone a goofy smile in return. Stone knew that this interchange was being watched. The other employees of the Fantasy Club would talk. Stone would end up looking like a loser because of a moment of weakness, thinking about his own lost innocence. His employees would talk behind his back about the ex-convict, drug dealer, and pimp who invited retards to his table. Stone looked for an easy way to keep his reputation intact. "Does your rabbit's foot bring you luck?" "Only if I stroke it." "Did you know that luck works best if you let someone else do the stroking?" Stone formed an image in his mind of a whore giving a hand job. "No," said Tommy, leaving his mouth open again like a fish blowing bubbles. "If you let me stroke your rabbit's foot, you might get lucky. One of the strippers might give you a private lap dance. Would you like that?" "Oh, that would be good." Then Tommy frowned. "What's wrong?" asked Stone. "I can't lose my keys. See?" Tommy held up a small plastic address tag attached to the key chain. "If I lose my keys, you get paid $15.00 for mailing them to this P.O. Box." "You won't lose your keys," Stone reassured him. "Are you sure?" "I'll keep them safe. You can watch me." "Will you help me get a girl? Girls don't like me much after they learn I'm slow." "I'm sure it will work. Give me the keys." Stone reached across the table. Trusting Stone, Tommy handed him the keys. "Now go sit over there at the corner table while I rub your rabbit's foot." As Tommy turned his back to walk to the corner table, Stone detached the keys from the rabbit's foot and handed them to his bouncer, Guido. "Tell Sherry to give the kid a free lap dance, and get me duplicate keys. You gotta be back in 10 minutes," Stone told him. For the cost of a duplicate key, Stone had salvaged his reputation. Stone saluted Tommy, at the corner table, holding the white rabbit's foot high in the air and pretending to have the keys in the palm of his hand. With exaggerated gestures, Stone stroked the rabbit's foot. A few minutes later, Sherry approached Tommy's table and began her tired routine. The lap dance ended before Guido returned. Tommy came back to Luther Stone's table. "Can I have my keys back now?" Stone smoothly evaded his question. "It worked just like I told you, right?" Tommy nodded his head, breaking into a big smile. "Do you live in a post office box?" "No, I don't live in no box. That's just if the keys get lost." "Where do you live?" "I live at 723 E. Park Avenue in Apartment #327." Tommy recited the numbers carefully, proud to have memorized his own address. "Can I have my foot back now?" "In just a minute. I'm going to give it an extra rub so you get another girl the next time you come back to the Fantasy Club." Stone moved his hand with the rabbit's foot under the table, pretending to rub it, until he saw Guido walking toward him from the back entrance of the Club. Guido shook hands with Stone who palmed the key chain and deftly re-attached it to the rabbit's foot. 723 East Park Avenue Apartment 327 New York City, NY Tuesday July 5th Luther Stone rang the doorbell first. He waited. He knocked three times before inserting the key and opening the door to apartment #327. Stone had no intention of burglary. It was pure curiosity. The address on Park Avenue surprised him. Why was a mentally challenged smuck like Tommy Kincaid living in a high-class apartment building? The luxuriously decorated apartment only furthered the mystery. Stone made a quick tour of the 2-bedroom suite to reassure himself that he was alone. The lipstick and tampax in the bathroom took Stone by surprise. Was Tommy Kincaid married? He returned to a small table by the front door with a basket full of mail. Selecting a business envelope, Luther Stone read the name of the addressee. He quickly thumbed through the rest of the letters. All of them were addressed to Claire Kincaid, Assistant District Attorney for the State of New York. This was the same Claire Kincaid who had sent Stone to Attica on a three-year drug conviction. Tommy was not married. He was Claire Kincaid's retarded brother. Stone said a short prayer. The Gods were with him.Stroking the rabbit's foot had brought him more luck than he could have imagined. His mind raced with possibilities for revenge. He could stalk Claire, torment her, he could bug her apartment, and rape her in her own bed. But he quickly rejected all these fantasies. He wanted more. He wanted Claire to come to him, begging on her knees. He wanted to humiliate and degrade her. He devised a plan. Luther Stone returned to the bathroom. He did the same thing detectives Brisco and Logan had done to convict him. He went around collecting evidence. He took hair from Claire's hairbrush, looked in the waste basket and fished out a used tampon, and brushed fibers off Claire's skirts that were hanging in the closet. He wiped off both sides of the door handle with a paper towel before leaving. Hargrove Lofts #425 3007 W. Brooklyn Avenue Friday July 8th Tommy Kincaid rubbed his rabbit foot again, and hit the naked woman laying across the bed. "Wake up!" he yelled. But the woman did not move. "Wake up!" Tommy yelled again. But the woman was dead. Minutes before, Tommy had handed her a balloon of heroin in exchange for sex. His good friend, Luther Stone had set him up with a drug-addicted stripper named Cyndee Lee, and a big man named Guido had given him the heroin. The sex was good. The heroin was good too. Over 80% pure heroin. It was a hot shot. Both the sex and death had been recorded from a hidden camcorder. In a panic, Tommy Kincaid fled the dead woman's apartment. He ran straight to his good friend Luther Stone for help. Police discovered the body after receiving an anonymous phone tip. When Detectives Brisco and Logan arrived at the Hargrove Lofts #425, uniformed police officers were already posted at the front door and the Medical Examiner was examining the body. Logan searched the apartment while Brisco talked to the doctor. "What's it look like?" Detective Brisco asked the Medical Examiner. "A dead lady," the examiner answered without looking up. "Yeah, or a slow whore, but do we have a murder?" "What we have is a drug overdose, and a recent sex act." The Medical Examiner inserted his plastic-gloved fingers into the vagina of the deceased woman and wiggled them sideways to make his point. The movement of his fingers made an obscene sound of sloshing liquids. He gave Detective Brisco a lewd wink, "What's it sound like to you?". "Sounds like a fresh fucking," said Brisco, agreeing with the M.E. Logan returned from the bathroom carrying a bloody tampon in a plastic evidence bag. "She on the rag, Doc?" he asked. "No," the M.E. answered. "Well, then it looks like we have another woman." "And a man," added Brisco. "Is it rape?" asked Logan, picking a hypodermic syringe up off the floor and dropping it into an evidence bag. "After Logan's run with divorce, he has trouble imagining women fucking for fun," Brisco told the M.E. in an apologetic voice. "More like sex for drugs," answered the medical examiner. "If you'd known my ex-wife, you'd think rape, too," shot back Logan. "If we find the drug pusher, we might be able to arrest him for Murder II," Brisco suggested. "The police forensics lab will sort it out," Logan predicted. "I'm done here. You can bag her," said the medical examiner. New York District Attorney Adam Schiff's Office Thursday July 14th Claire Kincaid listened politely, holding a large envelope in her lap, as Jack McCoy detailed the murder case on Cynthia Lee Crawford for Adam Schiff, the Chief District Attorney for the City of New York. "Under Barrera vs State of New York, we have precedent for charging the deliverer of illegal drugs with Murder II if that delivery results in death." Seated behind his desk, Adam Schiff nodded his mostly bald head. In an annoyed grumble, Adam protested "Yes, but can we prove the intent of the person supplying the drugs." Rising out of his chair, Jack McCoy pointed his index finger at Adam Schiff, raising his voice with emotion. "The prosecution does not have to prove intent, only delivery. The burden of proof is reversed. Supplying illegal drugs which results in the demise of the recipient is 'a priori' accepted proof, tantamount to depraved indifference. Intent is implied in delivery. The courts have made this point clear." "OK," Adam nodded his bald head, "Who is the bad guy?" "We don't know yet," conceded Jack McCoy. Adam rubbed the sides of his head as if he were developing a headache. "Why are you wasting my time?" growled Adam in exasperation. "But we may know soon," Jack added quickly. "Claire has an anonymous informant." Claire Kincaid rose from her chair and handed Adam a 6 x 10 envelope with the photograph of the deceased woman, Cynthia Crawford, sprawled nude across the bed. "This photo," said Claire, "was not taken by the police." "So we have an anonymous necrophiliac?" Adam snapped back sarcastically. "It's more than that," said Claire. "Look in the far left-hand corner." She tapped the photo with her index finger. "That's a man's leg. That's the perp." Adam sounded tired, but nodded his assent. "OK, run with it. But you can't indict a leg. If you identify the man, we'll trot a murder charge out before the Grand Jury." New York District Attorney Claire Kincaid's Office Friday July 15th The phone rang while Claire Kincaid was reading through depositions on a rape case. The person on the other end started talking before Claire could announce herself as an Assistant District Attorney. "You've been bad, Claire," said a man's voice she did not recognize. "Excuse me, do I know you?" Claire answered, suspecting an obscene call. "You know my work." "What work?" asked Claire impatiently, checking the Caller ID display. The call was blocked. It did not show the caller's telephone number. "Pictures of dead women." Suddenly alert, Claire sat up straight in her chair. "Do you know who gave Ms Crawford the heroin?" "Yes." "Do you know that by withholding this information, you could be charged with obstruction of justice or even an accessory to murder after the fact?" "I'm not trying to withhold anything." "OK, who did it?" "Your brother, Tommy Kincaid." Claire's heart froze. Did Tommy do it? Could she prosecute her own brother? She quickly dismissed that thought. She would never prosecute her own brother. She knew Tommy. He was retarded, but he was no killer. There was no proof. The caller was just trying to upset her, and he had succeeded. "You're wrong," said Claire, sure of herself. "Check your mail for a videotape, Claire." The caller hung up. Claire sorted through her mail. She found a Federal Express package with a videotape. In the privacy of her office, Claire watched her brother, Tommy, hand heroin to Cynthia Crawford. She watched Cynthia inject herself and collapse. The entire murder scene had been taped. A few minutes after the tape ended, Claire's office phone rang. It was the man's voice again. "Did you watch it?" "What do you want?" asked Claire. "I want you." The voice sounded threatening. "Blackmail is not going to work," Claire stated with a false certainty. "Why not?" "My brother, Tommy, has diminished mental capacity. No court would ever convict him of murder." "I knew you'd defend him." "He's my brother. What did you expect?" "You're a prosecutor, Claire. I expected prosecution." "Sorry to disappoint." This time, Claire hung up. Claire locked the incriminating videotape in her desk. She congratulated herself for not succumbing to a blackmailer. She had no intention of ever showing this videotape of the murder to anyone. The crime would just have to go unsolved. Later that afternoon, the anonymous blackmailer called back. "Did you share the videotape with your friend, Jack McCoy?" The man's voice was calm and self-assured, speaking with a familiarity that repelled Claire. "No," answered Claire curtly to discourage the caller. "That's good. Because you were right." "What do you mean?" "Tommy does have diminished capacity. He's not the real killer." "He isn't?" asked Claire, not knowing where this conversation was going. "No, Tommy just did what you told him." "What do you mean?" Claire said in shock. "You're the killer." A cold chill fell across Claire. The caller was crazy. There was no way she was the killer. She had never been in Cynthia Crawford's apartment. The accusation was insane. "You're nuts!" Claire stated boldly, taking the offensive. "I can prove it," responded the self-assured voice. "How?" Claire's voice wavered. "Send a sample of your hair and blood to the police forensics lab. Ask them to test it against the evidence collected at the murder scene." The caller hung up. Police Forensics Lab New York Police Department Tuesday July 19th Doctor R. Timmons, at the police forensics lab, called Claire Kincaid's Office with the good news. "Remember those hair and blood samples you gave me for testing on the Crawford Case?" "Yes," said Claire. "We have a match." "How good a match," asked Claire cautiously. "As good as it gets without DNA testing. We have a 98% certainty the two samples are identical. The person those samples came from was at the murder scene. I can testify to that in court. Looks like you caught your perp, Claire." "Ah, that's great, Timmons," said Claire without enthusiasm, and placed the phone back in its cradle. Claire's stomach lurched.She felt ill. Doctor Timmons had just offered to testify in court against her. It was Claire's own blood and hair in that sample. How did she get into this mess? Claire buried her head in her hands and broke down in heavy sobs that quickly turned into a torrent of tears. 328 E. 47th Street New York City The Fantasy Club Wednesday July 20th Claire agreed to meet her anonymous tormentor at the Fantasy Club. It was 10:00 p.m. She had been sitting in the bar for the past 15 minutes trying to guess the identity of her blackmailer. Several men had hit on her. She brushed them off with a maddening hesitation. Uncertain which man she was meeting, Claire gave every man a shot at her. She was not drinking, not laughing, and definitely not having fun. She looked lost. Claire was a long way from the comfortable, familiar surroundings of a courtroom. She tugged her skirt sharply to keep it from riding up over her knees. Waiting for the blackmailer to reveal himself made Claire feel dirty like a whore sitting on a barstool. Luther Stone enjoyed watching Claire's distress. He delayed approaching her. He wanted to see how well she handled herself. She was obviously extremely ill at ease, but managed to maintain her outward composure. Her pageboy haircut gave her face a special innocence. Her brown hair caught the glow from the bar lights, and her gold hoop earrings sparkled. Her face was flushed. Her mouth was open. Just like her brother thought Stone. Dressed in a gray skirt with a cream-colored blouse, she looked dignified. The single string of white pearls hanging around her neck gave her a touch of sophistication that set her apart from all the other women in the bar. She looked dignified. He intended to strip her of that dignity. Claire had not spotted him. She had walked right by his booth, and he had inhaled her perfume. He liked her scent. She smelled good. He closed his eyes imagining how he would take her. Under the table, Stone pushed down on his rising hard-on, groaning. Claire continued to search the bar, her face tense. Stone calmly sipped his drink. He enjoyed watching her shame at repeatedly rebuffing the attentions of horny men. He liked seeing the way her breasts moved underneath her blouse. The slight jiggle of Claire's breasts against her pearl necklace was far more erotic than any stripper. Claire's heart pounded so hard she could feel it through her blouse. Where was he? She glanced at her watch. Fifteen after ten. Maybe it was all a cruel hoax! Tears burned her eyes, and she bit her lip to keep from breaking down, forcing herself to be strong. "Be strong," she urged herself. "You have to be strong. Do not let him get the best of you." She was moving toward the bartender to ask if anyone had left a message for her when someone uttered her name. "Claire." She whipped her head around, peering through the darkness. It was someone sitting at a booth table in the shadows. She moved off the bar stool and toward the table. She could make out the outline of a man. As she got closer, her eyes lit up with recognition. She looked at Stone, confused. "Hi, Luther Stone." "Hello, Claire." Politely, Stone stood up and let Claire slide into the booth toward the far wall, then he sat down blocking her only exit. To her dismay, Stone laid his hand on top of hers and held it lightly as if they were lovers. "Didn't think you'd meet me here, did ya?" "I thought you were still in Attica serving a five-year drug sentence." Claire glanced around the bar afraid to try to withdraw her hand from his. She avoided looking Stone directly in the eyes. She needed time to catch her breath and calm her breathing before speaking. She needed to sound firm and in control. When she finally looked at Stone, he was gazing at her breasts. She glanced away, embarrassed. "I got out for good behavior," said Stone, giving her a lewd wink. Claire was not certain what to say. She looked down at her lap, wondering if Stone was the blackmailer. She kept telling herself to withdraw her hand, but her nerve failed her. "Look at me, Claire. I've waited a long time for this." Claire looked up. "What? What have you waited for?" "To claim you. You're mine," said Stone possessively. Anger flared on Claire's usually passive face. She was no man's toy. She was no man's possession. She yanked her hand out from under his. "How dare you!" Claire waited. She expected Stone to strike back, but he remained calm. He seemed amused by Claire's outburst. Stone slowly raised his drink and took a sip, setting the glass back on the table before speaking. When he spoke, between almost closed lips, it sounded to Claire like the hiss of a snake. "Don't make me angry, bitch. I own you." The tip of his tongue flicked between his lips. Stone smiled. Claire glared back. All doubt was gone. He was the blackmailer. "What do you want?" asked Claire, wanting to end this encounter. Stone leaned closer. He looked like he was about to whisper in her ear, but he quickly grabbed Claire's head with his hands. He pressed his lips to hers, forcefully kissing her. He thrust his tongue deep into her mouth, and then suddenly reversed the assault by possessively sucking her tongue into his own mouth. Claire struggled to escape this forced embrace, repulsed by his boldness, terrified by the lightning-fast assault. She finally broke away, retreating from Stone until her back was against the wall. "You bastard!" Claire gasped, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand to get his taste out of her. Frantic, she looked around the bar expecting someone to come to her assistance, but no one was paying any attention. The taste of his drink filled her mouth. Claire was furious. But kissing in a stripper bar was not unusual. No one noticed her distress. Claire's face felt hot. Blood rushing to her head made the veins in her temple throb. She gripped the edge of the table ready to run. But she was trapped. Claire was determined not to let Stone force himself on her again. Stone lifted a hand, and Claire flinched as if she expected to be slapped. A bar maid responded to his wave. She took Stone's drink and gave him another. Claire watched him in fear. Stone studied Claire like a snake, squinting his eyes into small slits, moving his head from side to side as if were looking for a place to strike. Claire's eyes grew wide with fear. She blinked rapidly, alert for an attack. She hated Stone, but felt strangely attracted to him. He had power over her. He had something she wanted. He had a videotape of her brother, Tommy at the scene of a drug-related murder. She needed the tape, and she needed Stone's silence. Stone was dangerous. He could strike out without warning. Claire felt vulnerable. And she feared Stone's bite could be deadly. "If you cooperate, I'll give you the tape of your brother, and I'll forget it ever happened," Stone said coldly. He looked sincere. But could Claire trust him? Claire regained her composure. "You want a little 'quid pro quo'?" she asked boldly. "That's right, honey. Move closer to me." Claire slid away from the wall toward Stone. The booth table could easily sit three, and there was still a considerable gap between them. "A little more," urged Stone. She moved closer. Stone made no move to touch her. "More," said Stone. Claire moved toward Stone until her leg almost touched his. They were sitting side by side as close as a couple could sit without touching. "Relax," smiled Stone. "This is not going to hurt." Claire needed help. She never should have agreed to meet Stone. She never should have come into a stripper bar alone. The craziness of her plight was maddening. She could not call the police. Even if there were a policeman in the bar, what could she tell him? She had been kissed without permission? As a New York District Attorney, she knew the hopelessness of such an accusation. Stone would talk his way out of it, and she would end up looking like a fool. What if she told the truth? If Claire told the police Stone had videotaped evidence of a murder, Stone would say that he had already given the tape to Claire. He was the just the good citizen trying to help out, but she could get disbarred for non-disclosure of evidence. Then there was the physical evidence to explain. Her blood. Her hair. If she admitted being blackmailed, her brother risked a murder conviction. Claire peered into the darkness of the bar. Maybe, someone in the bar could help her. But how? Even if she escaped Stone this evening, nothing changed. He would simply call her for another date. And she would come. The awful truth hit home. She would come. Claire felt Stone's hand gently rubbing her thigh out of sight, under the table. Claire knew there was no way out. Ashamed to let Stone see her tears, Claire turned her head away from him and urged herself to be strong. She breathed deeply to regain her sense of balance. Stone mistook it for a gasp of pleasure and moved his hand higher between her legs. Claire reminded herself that she was an intelligent District Attorney, a lawyer trained to talk her way out of any situation. She could reason with him. But with Stone's hand rubbing between her legs, her brain had gone on vacation. Her brilliant legal mind had turned to mush. Stone yanked her skirt above her thighs, all the way to her panties, before withdrawing his hand. Looking Claire directly in the eyes, he moved his hand over his drink and dipped his fingers into the alcohol.Claire watched Stone wet his fingers and lower his hand under the table. She recoiled from the wet fingers with revulsion. Suddenly, she seethed with anger. Claire lost her temper. She shouted at Stone. "Keep your fingers away, or I'll call the police!" As soon as the words flew from her mouth, Claire was embarrassed by how silly they sounded. People nearby stopped talking. They looked at Claire expectantly. Stone raised his drink, toasting the onlookers, and smiled affably. Claire hunched down in the booth, embarrassed. She wanted to disappear. Calling attention to herself with a man like Stone in a stripper bar was the last thing Claire needed. Her reputation would be ruined. "Go ahead and call the cops," Stone challenged her. He leaned toward Claire and grabbed her hand. She tried to pull it away, but he held it firmly. "You're a bad girl, Claire." "You don't own me," insisted Claire. "I won't let you." Claire spat the words out of her mouth like a prosecutor demanding a maximum sentence. Sensing her determination, Stone released Claire's hand. His eyes wandered over her body, tracing the contours of her curves. It made her feel violated and dirty. But Stone stopped touching her. He respected her resistance. He nodded begrudgingly, waiting while Claire pulled down her skirt. It was a stand-off. "We can work something out," offered Claire. "We can," agreed Stone amiably. "You only get one bite of the apple," continued Claire. "That a legal phrase?" asked Stone. "Yes. It means this is a one-time deal." "OK. I'll set up an exchange." Stone stood up. Claire was free to leave the booth. As she brushed wrinkles out of her skirt, she warned Stone. "Don't ever touch me again," Claire told him, pressing her advantage, "or the deal is off and I'll just take my consequences." Both Detectives Brisco and Logan were working the telephones fishing for leads in the Crawford murder investigation. Detective Brisco called the M.E., Dr. Timmons, for the autopsy results. Death by misfortune. Death by drugs. Death by accident. Death by rape. Detective Brisco had seen it all. He did not expect any help from Dr. Timmons. "Dr. Timmons, Detective Brisco here. I was hoping you might have something new on the Crawford autopsy." "Sorry, but what we have is a heroin overdose, plain and simple. No other cause of death. From the needle marks, it looked like Ms Crawford was a long-time addict. She was overdue. It was her time." "Anything from the rape kit test?" asked Brisco hopefully. "Sorry, again. All negative. No signs of vaginal trauma. All sexual activity was consensual. Also, no DNA match with any registered sex offenders." "So, you've got nothing for us?" Brisco's voice betrayed his disappointment. "Just an ID on the perpetrator," said Dr. Timmons. "Whaddya mean?" shouted Brisco, slurring his words with excitement. "Didn't Claire tell you? She sent in blood and hair samples that made a perfect match with those found at the scene." "She did?" "Yep! Check with Claire. I think she solved your case for you." "Us detectives are always the last to know," said Brisco, hanging up. So Claire was holding out, thought Brisco. Why would she do that? What was Claire hiding? Logan got off the phone. "I just tracked down the owner of the apartment building. Guess who owns the Hargrove Lofts?" "Who?" "Luther Stone. Three years ago, Claire Kincaid sent him to Attica on a five to seven-year drug conviction." "It's a small world," said Brisco, rubbing his chin. "You get anything new from the forensic lab?" asked Logan. "Naw, same old stuff," lied Brisco. "Maybe we ought to run Luther Stone's prints against the ones found at the murder scene," suggested Logan. "Good idea." "We already have a DNA sample from Stone on file from his last conviction. Let's check it for a match." The investigation moved forward. At 10:00 am on Friday, the Fantasy Club was closed but not empty. Footsteps and voices echoed in the church-like silence. Stone led Claire Kincaid down a long hallway with doors every few feet. The rooms were very small, like hundreds of confessional booths in a Catholic nightmare. "These are fantasy booths," explained Stone. "The customer sits on one side, a nude woman sits on the other side. Between them is a one-way mirror. The man can see the woman, but the woman cannot see the man. The man tells the woman what he wants through a speakerphone." Claire looked at Stone with relief. This was going to be easier than she thought. "And you want me to play your fantasy girl?" "Bingo!" said Stone. "What's the fantasy?" "I'll let that be a surprise." "Do I have to change into a costume?" "No, but you may have to undress," Stone admitted. "How long?" asked Claire Kincaid. "No more than one hour. When we're done, I'll give you the tape." Stone unlocked a door with an 'Employees Only' sign and guided Claire to a booth. Facing Claire was a mirror window. "I can do this," Claire told herself. "He cannot touch me. I will not even have to look at him." Stone closed the door, leaving Claire alone in the fantasy booth. Claire looked at her reflection in the mirror. She was dressed casually in a pink blouse and gray skirt. Her only makeup was a light touch of blue eye shadow and some pink lipstick. She primped in the mirror, waiting for Stone to get settled in on the other side. Stone's voice took Claire by surprise. "So you came to gloat?" he asked. "No, that's not true," Claire said in automatic denial. For a second, Claire felt Stone had read her mind. She had been gloating. Stone would not be touching her. She was back in control. Words were Claire's life. Twisting words in courtrooms was Claire's world. If Stone wanted words, Claire was his woman. She could do this. "Why else would you visit me here in prison?" asked Stone. This question caught Claire off balance. This was not a prison. This was a fantasy booth. Then it hit her. This was Stone's fantasy. The attractive female district attorney visiting a convicted felon in prison after his drug conviction. Claire had prepared herself to talk dirty and perform to obscene commands. But Stone did not want blind obedience. To fulfill Stone's fantasy, Claire would need to play herself. "Answer my question, bitch!" hissed Stone impatiently. "You're a loser, Stone," Claire shouted back. "So you did come to gloat?" "Not, gloat. I came to show you what you'll be missing for the next 5 years." Claire let her finger trace a path down the middle of her chest and circled around the curve of her breasts. "You'd like to see them, wouldn't you?" "Yes, show them to me." "Make me." "I can't. You know I'm locked up." "That's right. The beast is behind bars." "... and the beauty is free." Claire was enjoying this. She really was in control. But she knew she would have to submit. If she did not give Stone his fantasy, there would be no deal. She needed to keep up her end of the bargain. "Eat your heart out," Claire said to her reflection, standing up. Grabbing the edges of her dress with both hands, Claire watched herself lift it above her waist, revealing her white panties before letting her skirt fall back down. She flashed a teasing smile at the mirror. "Take them off." "Take what off?" asked Claire innocently. "Your panties." "Oh, you nasty man," said Claire coquettishly. But she obeyed. She put her hands under her skirt and rolled the panties down her long legs. She held her panties under her nose and pretended to smell them. "Hmm! They smell so good." Claire pressed the panties against the mirror. "Too bad, you can't smell them." Claire heard a low moan. She must be doing it right. Why not speed things up? If he climaxed, she could leave early. She remembered what a prostitute she had prosecuted had once told her. In the hands of a skilled woman, most men lasted less than 7 minutes. Just a few squirts, and it was all over. "Look at me," Claire commanded, watching herself in the mirror as she unbuttoned her blouse. She cupped her hands beneath her bra, pushing her breasts together. "Do you like my tits?" She heard another moan. Claire lifted both her breasts out of their cups and let them hang out over the top of her bra. She pushed her tits toward the mirror, letting the nipples brush against the cold glass. Claire could just imagine what Stone was thinking. She could feel her nipples harden. She mashed her boobs against the glass, making them bulge and flatten out. From the other side, it must look gross, thought Claire with satisfaction. "Are you stroking your cock?" Claire asked into the mirror, so close that her breath left a small cloud of condensation. "Maybe," answered Stone, not giving anything away. He was as slippery as a snake, thought Claire. She would never pin him down. Determined to break Stone, Claire abruptly slumped in her chair and thrust both feet toward the mirror, her shoes making a loud snap as they hit the glass. Her skirt stretched tightly between her open legs, Claire opened herself up for viewing. She heard another groan. "Touch yourself," Stone begged. Claire pushed her fingers between her legs, spreading her lips open. With her legs spread wide under her skirt, Claire was giving Stone a perfect view. Her cunt gaped open, and her puckered asshole was obscenely visible. She inserted two fingers and fucked herself for Stone's pleasure.Any minute and it will be over, Claire told herself. She had no idea what a twisted path Stone's fantasy would take. "What if your father saw you like this, Claire? Are you daddy's little whore?" Stone asked. "Yes, I'm daddy's whore," Claire responded. She would say anything to keep the fantasy going. "What about your brother, Tommy? Would you fuck him, too?" "Yes, I want to fuck Tommy." "I..." She stopped, unable to say the words. Claire swallowed hard and started again. "I want to fuck my brother, Tommy." "Yes, you want his big hard cock," urged Stone. "I want him to fuck me with his hard cock. I want to be my brother's sex slave. Tommy can fuck my pussy, or take me in the ass. I've wanted to fuck my brother for a long, long time." "Suck on your fingers, Claire." Claire pushed the fingers from her left hand into her mouth. "No. Your other hand. Suck on the fingers that were in your pussy." Claire shook her head in refusal. "Do it, Claire. Do it for your brother, Tommy." Claire was puzzled. What was this incestuous fantasy about Tommy? She brushed the fingertips of her right hand over her lips, finally pushing them inside her mouth. She licked her fingers, trailing her tongue all the way down to the fingernails, as if she were licking a cock. "Again." Claire took her saliva-coated fingers and penetrated herself again. She fucked herself briefly before moving her fingers into her open mouth and sucking loudly. "Aah, that's good, Claire. You're a good little girl." Claire increased her efforts. She alternated her thrusting fingers from mouth to pussy and back again until she was dripping. A small pool of fluids was forming between her legs. "Beg for it, Claire," Stone hissed. She didn't reply. "Beg for Tommy's cock!" "No." "You're a dripping slut. Beg Tommy to fuck you." Claire's resolve weakened. She needed to end this. "I want it," Claire whispered. "Say it, whore. What do you want?" "I want Tommy to..." Claire could not finish. "Fuck you?" "Yes," Claire sobbed. She could no longer tell if she was acting out a fantasy or living a nightmare. Her fingers froze. "Say it louder," he insisted. "I want Tommy to fuck me," Claire gasped. "Keep fingering yourself." Claire resumed fucking herself with her fingers. "Say it again." "Please, fuck me," Claire begged. "Fuck you where?" "In my pussy." "What about your ass?" "Yes, fuck my ass. Fuck me with your cock." "Make me feel it, Claire." "Please fuck me," she sobbed. Claire heard a long low moan. "Do it, Claire, masturbate. Make yourself come." Claire paused. Nervously, she turned her eyes away from him toward the door. No escape. She realized there was no way out. Her hesitation thrilled him. Then in shame, she obeyed his command. There was nothing else to do. Slipping her fingers over her sopping mound, Claire rubbed herself. Her body trembled. Her horror at the thought of what would happen to her if she stopped stroking herself was stronger than her disgust of Stone, and what he was forcing her to do. Claire's moans conceded her state of arousal. She was his plaything. She shuddered. Claire screamed in a high-pitched wail, shaking her head from side to side in a frantic effort to deny herself the pleasure of the climax that was building inside her body, the pleasure she desperately wanted to avoid. But her orgasm kept building. The electric sensation flooded through her. A wave of pleasure swept over her. Claire could not stop climaxing. Her heart thundered in her ears. She lost control. Her body trembled more powerfully than ever, shaking from wave after wave of mind-numbing orgasm. And she started to cry. Tears streamed down her face. It was the final humiliation. Stone had forced her to masturbate herself to a climax. Her dignity had been shattered. She was mortified. She had shared her most intimate act with Stone, more intimate than sex itself. He had watched her climax with her breasts hanging out over the top of her bra, her skirt taut between her spread legs, and her shoes planted firmly against the mirror window. Claire could see her own image. She could see herself in the mirror. She was ashamed. Her dignity had always been of paramount importance to her. Tears streamed down her face. Claire moaned in misery. "I'm not done with you yet, Claire." "Kiss me, Claire." Claire puckered her lips and kissed the air. "No, kiss the mirror." Claire moved her lips to the mirror. "Lower." She moved lower. "To your left." Claire obeyed. She pressed her lips against the cold glass, kissing, twisting her mouth in a gross parody of a kiss, leaving a circle of smeared lipstick. "Once more." Claire kissed the glass again, closing her eyes. When Claire opened her eyes, her lips were pressed hard against a spurting cock on the other side of the window. The lamp in her booth was off. The mirror was now just plain glass. Claire had expected some sort of trick from Stone, but not this. Never this. The face behind the glass was not Luther's. It was her brother, Tommy. Claire watched as her brother's cock gave one final spurt that dripped down the side of the glass. Her heart sank. Claire was devastated. She was degraded beyond imagination. In a blind rush, Claire bolted from the fantasy booth. Stone met her in the hallway, pressing a videotape into her hand. Claire had earned the tape, but she was too humiliated to even ask for it. Clasping her unbuttoned blouse together with one hand, and holding the video tape in the other hand, Claire ran out of the Fantasy Club. All she wanted was to escape. 723 East Park Avenue Apartment 327 New York City, NY Monday July 25th For several days, Claire deliberately avoided her brother, Tommy. She left for work early and came home late. She was too humiliated to face him, but relieved that her ordeal was over. Claire hoped that with time, Tommy would forget and forgive. Stone phoned her at home one evening when Tommy was out. "Hello, Ms Kincaid." Claire recognized his voice immediately. "We have nothing to discuss, Mr. Stone. Just one bite of the apple. Did you forget?" Claire was ready to hang up, but Stone's words stopped her. "Did you enjoy the videotape? It's Tommy's favorite." Something was wrong. The hair on the back of Claire's neck stood up. A feeling of dread crept over her. She found the videotape Stone had pressed into her hand when she fled the Fantasy Club. Claire inserted it in the VCR. It was the wrong tape. My God! This was a tape of Claire in the fantasy booth. My God, thought Claire, Stone had videotaped her through the mirror. "You bastard!" Claire yelled into the phone. "Tommy loves your video. He has seen it dozens of times. No one else has seen it. I should sell it as a porno video so millions of men could watch it and fuck you in their dreams. Your reputation would be ruined." "What do you want," Claire sobbed in defeat. "I want you to have sex." "I'd die before having sex with you," swore Claire. "Not me, Claire. I want you to fuck Tommy." Claire Kincaid's felt her life spinning out-of-control. The room started to turn. She fainted. When Claire revived, Tommy was standing over her. He was rubbing his crotch. "Tommy," Claire asked. Tommy looked down at his sister. "Yes?" "Do you want to fuck me?" "I sure do." Tommy took his shirt off and unbuckled his belt. "Is Stone forcing you to do this?" Tommy kicked off his shoes. "No." "Then why are you taking off your clothes? It's wrong to have sex with your own sister." "It's wrong, but I can't stop thinking about it. After watching the videotape of you fucking yourself, and begging me to fuck you, I can't get you out of my mind. I want you." Tommy dropped his pants to the floor. He was already fully erect. Stone had been exciting Tommy by showing him the videotape of Claire's pornographic performance in the fantasy booth. How many times had Tommy seen the video? Claire had masturbated to save her brother Tommy from a possible murder conviction. Now Tommy was going to screw her. All of Claire's good intentions were turning out wrong. Stone had twisted everything around. Claire had given up trying to help Tommy. Now she just wanted to save herself. Seeing no way out of this forced incest, Claire took off her clothes and laid down on the bed. Tommy climbed on top of her. He was awkward. All elbows and knees. His hot cock throbbed insistently against her thigh. There were no condoms. Tommy would not be using a condom, but there would also would be no baby. Claire was on the pill. Once he had a goal, Tommy pursued it with a simple-minded determination. His hands were clumsy and fumbling. He was excited. He would not be stopped. Claire felt her resolve hardening along with her brother's erection. She could not do this. She could not fuck her own brother. Claire kept stalling him. She told Tommy she had to get comfortable and moved the pillows. But Tommy was insistent. Without warning, the telephone rang. Claire answered the telephone, but it failed to slow down Tommy's mindless lust. "Hello, this is Dr. Cook's Office calling from the Metropolitan Health Center," said a deep rumbling voice. Claire could feel Tommy's hands pushing her legs apart. "Hello," said Claire. "Is Ms Kincaid home?" "This is Ms Kincaid speaking." Tommy had managed to get his hips between her legs. She could not keep them closed. He had won. Nothing would stop him now. Tommy ignored the fact that Claire was talking on the telephone. He would fuck her as she talked."We're calling to notify you about the test results for Tommy." Claire felt Tommy's fingers probing inside her. She was wet. His cock pressed insistently against Claire's inner thigh. "What results?" Claire asked. "The HIV test taken last week came back positive." Without a word, Claire dropped the phone. Stone was going to kill her. He was using Tommy to kill her. In a panic, she tried to push Tommy off. But he was too heavy. He pushed her back onto the bed. Tommy had a weak mind, but strong muscles. He would win this battle. Claire felt the tip of his cock touch her outer lips, getting ready to thrust himself inside her. Claire knew. She was dead. Frantic, Claire whipped her head from side to side, looking for a weapon. She was fighting for her life. Without thinking, she grabbed a pair of scissors off the night table. She stabbed Tommy several times in the back. He screamed in pain. His screams and the sounds of something falling were heard by Stone on the other end of the dropped telephone. Claire ran to her closet. She yanked a gun out of her underwear drawer, pulled a raincoat on over her naked body, and fled. Claire intended to kill herself. Suicide was the only option left. Claire wandered aimlessly for hours before returning to her apartment. She had rejected the idea of suicide. If she killed herself, Stone would win. He wanted her dead. She was determined to live. She wanted to defeat Stone. Her apartment was empty. A pool of blood had soaked into her bed. Tommy was gone. A note was taped to the headboard of the bed. "Taking care of the body. Sorry things went bad. I will never tell anyone. Love, Luther" My God, thought Claire. Tommy was dead. Stone had disposed of the body. She had killed her own brother. In a daze, Claire stripped the bed, soaked the sheets in cold water, and made up the bed with fresh sheets. The routine domestic actions helped numb her mind. It stopped her from thinking. She was a killer. Claire did not sleep all night. In the morning, the telephone rang. "Claire, it's Stone." She did not answer. "Claire, everything is going to be OK." "Nothing will ever be OK," Claire mumbled. She dropped the phone and started crying. Still wearing her raincoat, Claire cried herself to sleep. When Claire woke up, Stone was holding her. His hands were caring and gentle. It felt good to be held. But Claire's anger ignited. Stone was touching her again. His arms were around her. It would never end. He was responsible for the death of her brother, Tommy. Silently, she slipped the gun out of her raincoat and shot him 3 times at point-blank range. Stone was dead. Central Precinct Police Department Detectives Office Tuesday July 25th Detectives Brisco & Logan promised to make a slam-dunk case of self-defense in testimony before the grand jury. Stone was an ex-convict previously convicted by Claire Kincaide who stalked her. He broke into her apartment for revenge. But there are a few loose ends. In Stone's pocket was a key chain with a large white rabbit's foot. The key opened the door to Claire's apartment. It belonged to Claire's brother, Tommy. Tommy was missing. Claire did not know where he was. In addition to breaking into Claire Kincaid's apartment, Stone was suspected of foul play in the disappearance of Tommy Kincaid. La Guardia Airport New York City, NY Saturday July 30th Detective Logan was returning his daughter, Megan, to her mother. She was departing on American Airlines flight 818 from New York to Tampa, Florida at 10:00 am. He shared joint custody with his ex-wife. After his daughter, Megan, pre-boarded, Detective Logan noticed a disturbance at an adjacent arriving flight from Florida. Tommy Kincaid was sitting on the floor surrounded by 3 airport security guards. He was crying and yelling that his rabbit's foot was lost. Detective Logan intervened. "Tommy Kincaid, I'm Detective Logan. I work with your sister. Do you remember me?" Tommy grabbed Detective Logan's leg in a grateful hug. "Can you help me find my rabbit's foot?" "I already found it. It's in the police property room. "Do you know where my sister is?" "Yes, she went to Luther Stone's funeral." "Stone is dead?" "Yes, he did something bad." Detective Logan did not want to mention his attack on Tommy's sister. Tommy was already upset. "Stone was good, not bad. He sent me to Disneyworld." "Is that where you've been for the past week?" "Yes. I had fun." "Your sister, Claire, will be glad to hear you're OK." "I don't know my way home," Tommy said. "Come with me." Tommy took Detective Logan's hand. St. Luke's Memorial Cemetery 3582 Lake Drive Saturday July 30th Following the advice of her psychiatrist, Claire Kincaid attended the burial ceremony for Luther Stone. It was intended to provide closure. According to her shrink, by attending the burial, Claire might avoid developing post-traumatic stress. Detective Lenny Brisco and Claire Kincaid stood apart from Luther Stone's family watching the first shovel full of dirt dumped on the casket. It was a small gathering. No more than four, not counting the minister, Claire, and Brisco. "Life is a mystery," repeated Detective Brisco, mimicking the eulogy of the minister. Claire remained silent. "Death is a mystery, too," continued Brisco. He looked at Claire as if he expected her to answer. "But not everyone's death is mysterious," finished Brisco. Claire looked at Detective Brisco. "What are you trying to say?" Claire asked. Detective Brisco did not answer. He watched Luther's family and the minister walk away. They headed across the grass to their cars. The funeral was over. Claire and Brisco were alone. "There is no statute of limitations on murder, is there?" Detective Brisco asked Claire. "It was self-defense," said Claire. "I was talking about your brother, Tommy." "Tommy?" Claire could not look Detective Brisco in the eyes. He knows, she thought. He knows what happened. "I found the note written by Luther Stone about disposing of Tommy's body. You conspired with Stone to cover up Tommy's death, and then you killed Stone so he couldn't blackmail you." Claire Kincaid offered a weak rebuttal. "In the end, Luther Stone received justice. Not courtroom justice, but justice nonetheless," she said. "But what about you?" Detective Brisco looked at Claire. He knows, thought Claire. "Me?" "Which do you want, justice or redemption?" After a long period of silence, Claire hung her head and whispered, "Justice should always be tempered with mercy." "Follow me to my car and I'll give you some tempered mercy." He cupped his groin with his hand. Detective Brisco was confident. He knew people. Claire was guilty. He turned his back on her and walked toward his car without looking back. Claire stood still for a long time before making her first step. Inside the police car, Claire unzipped Detective Brisco's pants. She sucked him into her mouth without a word. Getting a blow job in a cemetery by an assistant district attorney right after attending a burial was an incredible new experience for Brisco. A sense of unreality enveloped him. He climaxed almost immediately. Someone shouted. A man was running up the cemetery hill toward Brisco's car. Brisco shoved Claire's head off his lap. It was Tommy Kincaid. Claire heard Tommy yelling her name. Tommy was alive. He was running up the hill with Detective Logan trailing behind. Detective Brisco zipped up his pants. He was confused. If Tommy was alive, why did Claire Kincaid just give him a blow job? "Life is a mystery," Claire told Brisco. She flashed him a quick smile before opening the car door to run toward Tommy. Detective Logan joined his partner Lenny Brisco. They watched as Claire and Tommy hugged. "A strange case, huh?" commented Logan. "Stranger than you'll ever know," agreed Brisco.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11078.txt

IndianOutlaw

Seven's Revenge

"It's time," Seven said to B'Elanna. "One moment, Seven." B'Elanna continued to work at her console in engineering. "I have only reserved the holodeck for one hour. We must go now or we will lose it." She grabbed B'Elanna by the arm and began pulling her out of engineering. B'Elanna brought this on herself. She insisted Seven take more leisure time, and since the strip Blackjack game, Seven continued to ask her for help with recreation. Both arrived into an empty holodeck. Seven looked up. "Computer, run B'Elanna Exercise program A-4, include Seven of Nine modification R." B'Elanna's exercise program was not aerobics or treadmills, but a rocky, hilly terrain area where she fought several holograms in basic combat. She introduced it to Seven shortly after the Blackjack game, and Seven kept insisting she could make it better, obviously she felt she had now. "So what are the modifications?" B'Elanna asked. "Simple, similar to before, but hits are scored differently. This modification allows us to fight each other in total safety to our bodies." "Doesn't sound too fun." B'Elanna knew the reason one-on-one combat was not challenging was because of the safety protocols on the deck forced the hologram weapon to pass through harmlessly any person it struck. It was against ship's regulations to use real weapons. B'Elanna removed her engineering short jacket to reveal her standard duty jumpsuit. One piece from neck to foot, gray, it was accented by her yellow undershirt/mock turtleneck. This one was short-sleeved. Seven grabbed the holodeck-generated batala and flung it toward B'Elanna's bare wrist. "Shzzzzeeeettttt…/..Whoosh" it passed completely through. B'Elanna was left rubbing her still connected wrist. "Hey, that hurt!" "The blade will cause a slight discomfort whenever it strikes the skin, but no permanent damage will be sustained. If the blow is not sufficient enough to cut through, it will remain in place until removed. So will the discomfort." B'Elanna thought she could make out a smirk on Seven's face. Seven had her typical silver form-fitting catsuit on. Secretly, all the men on Voyager loved it. Her fantastic figure constantly made heads turn. The fight began. Each warrior testing each other's blade and technique. A lot of clanking from the blades striking, and for more than 10 minutes, no one scored. Then B'Elanna dropped her guard. Her Batala dropped, and Seven took a clean shot to her shoulder area. "Shzzzzeeeettttt…." B'Elanna winced in pain as Seven pulled it out. It only cut down about 3 inches. B'Elanna reached up to rub her sore shoulder to discover a surprise. "My uniform, it's ripped." While the blade made no lasting mark on her body, the uniform around it was cut just as if from a real blade. "Interesting," Seven said. B'Elanna stepped back, she thought about stopping it, but remembered she won the last 5 times they did this. She was clearly the better fighter, Or so she thought. More clanking, a few near misses, then B'Elanna's turn. "Shzzzzeeeetttt…./….Whoosh" Seven's arm was exposed, and B'Elanna cut cleanly through just above the elbow. The severed sleeve slid down, and Seven was forced to remove it. "Nice one." Seven too felt the discomfort but continued. Part II More hits were scored, nothing major, simple strikes and scrapes, the worst being a cut to Seven's right leg. Then B'Elanna took a gamble, she would strike center, then up, then back to the exposed center, a classic move. Seven knew the move and prepared for it. Instead of a full counter to the up move, she parried it and spun B'Elanna's blade, forcing her to release one hand. Seven spun around completely and swiped for the center. "Shzzzzeeeettttt…./….Whoosh." Seven's blade passed cleanly across B'Elanna's hips and out her right side. B'Elanna stood stunned as the bottom of her uniform fell to her ankles. "Why, Lieutenant, I don't believe those are standard-issue undergarments." B'Elanna turned beet red. She stood there virtually naked from the waist down. Exposed was a bright yellow pair of lacy, see-through string panties. They hung just low enough on her hips to be missed by the strike. Her red pubic hair showed through prominently. "That's it." She was fired up now. The Klingon blood boiled between her veins. B'Elanna kicked off the useless bottoms and attacked Seven with tremendous vigor. As she fought, her ass wiggled, coercing the lacy material to work its way between her firm ass cheeks. Clang, clang, Shzzzzeeeetttt, whoosh, clang shzzzzzeeeeettttt, whoosh, brought both legs exposed on Seven. B'Elanna skillfully used the blade to rip apart each leg, reducing the catsuit bottom to a pair of short shorts. Seven did not allow B'Elanna to continue. She immediately slashed back, cutting into the center of B'Elanna's midsection, and a few pieces of fabric fell to the ground, exposing her belly button. Both stood back to catch their breaths. B'Elanna bent down and adjusted her bright yellow lace panties. They were her only covering below her waist. Her red pubic hair had penetrated the lace material quite easily. She ran her fingers around the material, pulling it from her crack. The pubic hair was no longer protruding from the front now. She knew they would return to the embarrassing state once they started again. Seven was examining the remains of her silver catsuit as well. Her legs were completely exposed, as were parts of her midsection and one arm. The two women warriors prepared themselves once again. Clang, clang, whoosh, clang. The noise was deafening, then B'Elanna saw an opportunity. She hit Seven's blade down and sliced straight up, hoping to catch her midsection. Seven was aware of this move and immediately straightened up. Seven did not calculate on her enormous assets. Her DD breasts were in B'Elanna's line of slice. Shzzzzeeeetttt, whoosh, the silvery material from around her tits fell to the ground. Seven did not like the feeling. For the first time, her incredible boobs were freed for B'Elanna to see. B'Elanna could not help but notice how firm they were, especially for their size. She also discovered the nipples were erect. Seven just stared at her chest for a moment. She was mortified, she tried not to show it. B'Elanna did not allow her to rest for long. After the momentary pause to admire her handiwork, she continued to slice into Seven's uniform. Seven's shock over the exposure caused her to drop her guard once again. Shzzzzeeeetttt, whoosh, B'Elanna's blade cut down from Seven's side onto her crotch. The left third of her outfit fell to the ground. Seven actually blushed. The remainder of her outfit clung onto one leg and up to one arm. Her clit was exposed completely. Seven put her hand between her legs for a moment, but not before B'Elanna got a direct look. She was shaved completely! "I didn't know Borgs shaved down there," B'Elanna grinned. "We, um, it's an experiment." B'Elanna didn't buy it, but she let Seven have her fantasy. Besides, it would make a good story later in the officer's mess. Clanging sounds began again. Seven struck high, forcing Belana to raise her blade to block. Then with an exposed midsection, Seven kicked B'Elanna, and she fell to the ground. Shocked, B'Elanna had never seen Seven use a move like that. She was impressed. That did not last for long. Seven stabbed the blade down and struck B'Elanna in the chest. B'Elanna felt a sharp pain from the simulation as Seven pulled back. As she pulled the blade out, Seven twisted it and, therefore, the material from the top of the jumpsuit as well. She jerked back like a fisherman reeling in a catch. Rippppppppp! B'Elanna's whole top came completely off. Mock turtleneck and all. Seven smiled as she looked down at B'Elanna. Lying there in the dust, B'Elanna now was clad not only in a pair of micro bright yellow lace panties and matching bra, which was equally as miniscule. Her large brown nipples were very visible through it. For a moment, Seven admired what she saw. She secretly wished she had smaller tits. Hers kept getting in the way when she crawled through Jeffrey's Tubes. Part III As B'Elanna stood, her bra fell to the ground.It seems an earlier cut by Seven had snapped the back. Her breasts were now exposed. As she dove toward Seven, they bounced nicely. Seven's great tits did the same. In the flash of a second, B'Elanna got her revenge. The cut was completed, straight across Seven's midsection, then up to the shoulder. The remnants of the catsuit fell to the deck. Now totally naked, Seven actually did blush. There was no hiding her shaved pussy or enormous DD breasts. She bowed her head, defeated. "Interesting addition," B'Elanna said with respect. Both ladies' clothes were in tattered ruins. Seven was standing there totally naked, B'Elanna in just her bright yellow lace panties. "Now what do we do for clothes?" B'Elanna laughed. Surprisingly, so did Seven. "Here," Seven opened a gym bag and threw a duty jumpsuit to B'Elanna. "You can wear this. The captain has been after me for a while to wear it, but I don't believe you would fill out my silver suit." She was right - at best, B'Elanna was a B cup, maybe pushing a C, but definitely not a DD. Seven bent down, placing each leg in her replacement catsuit. As she bent over, B'Elanna could not help but notice a little excess moisture between Seven's legs. Lifting the suit up each leg, it tightly conformed to her toned body. Wiggling slightly, she worked it over her incredibly firm ass. Then, sliding each arm into each sleeve, her DD breasts hung over the top of the silver material for an instant. Seven pulled it up and over her shoulders, once again concealing her superior body. "Could you zip me up, please?" B'Elanna walked behind her and grabbed the zipper, pulling it from the top of Seven's butt crack to her neck and fastening the collar snap. "Don't you wear underwear?" "Why, no. I don't need the support," B'Elanna swore she could make out a little ego in Seven's voice. "I don't know why you wear those impractical underclothes." "When you get a boyfriend, you'll understand," B'Elanna said quietly. "What was that?" Seven did not hear her too well. "Never mind. I'll explain later." B'Elanna finished dressing in the jumpsuit and her short engineering jacket. Seven grabbed the gym bag. "After you," Seven allowed the doors to open and patted B'Elanna on the back as she readjusted the gym bag on her shoulder. The two walked to the turbolift and entered. As the lift progressed, B'Elanna spoke. "I enjoyed that, perhaps another round sometime?" "I would enjoy that also," Seven said. The lift doors opened, and B'Elanna stepped out. "My stop." As she stepped out, the comm signal rang. "Doctor to Seven." "Seven here." "Are you finished yet? I need that back." "Sorry, doctor." Seven reached out to B'Elanna and grabbed a device attached to the back of her collar. It was the Doctor's mobile holo-emitter. As the doors shut, B'Elanna turned quickly. Her clothes dissolved around her. She was left standing there wearing only her short engineering jacket, which was barely covering her breasts, and bright yellow lacy panties, with red pubic hair poking through. She gasped. The doors of the turbolift opened again. This time, inside were Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay. They scanned the red-faced B'Elanna's body for a moment. Then, both walked right past her. Without looking back, Janeway commented, "Why, Lieutenant, I don't believe those are standard-issue undergarments."

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/17050.txt

Lostgirl

Alone in Berlin

"Hello?" "Chris? It's Meg, Meg Kruger," I felt my heart beat quickly as I waited for the voice on the other end of the line to respond. "Meg? Hi... Where are you?" I let out a rush of air, I could hear myself talking too quickly. "I'm in Berlin, I fly out tomorrow... early... I'm at the Hotel Ibis," I hear myself laugh, but it sounds forced. "Hotel Ee-bis here, not eye-bis." "Oh... I hope it's not in the combat zone..." "No, but it's a little funky here, lots of immigrants and young intellectuals," The words poured out, was I making sense? "It's a little rough around the edges, but there are all these flower boxes on the ledges and if you look closely, there are lace curtains in all the windows. It's a neat place, really." Stop. Take a breath, I told myself, "But it's weird, walking down a street knowing you're completely alone in a foreign city..." "That explains the phone call, but I know what you mean..." Yes, he understood... I guessed that he didn't think I was a freak for calling him. "Yeah... When are you supposed to return to the States?" "This Saturday, I'll be staying over in Berlin Friday night... I'm surprised you didn't call your boyfriend..." So was I. "Time change... He'll be at work, our moods won't match... It's nice to talk to someone who is in the same time zone, you know?" In more ways than one... "It's nice just to hear English, at least you know some German..." He was making conversation, that was a good sign. Maybe he was actually glad I called. "Yeah, but I'm afraid to use it. If you ask a question in German, they answer in German, that's the problem!" Chris laughed softly. God, what was I doing? This was crossing so many boundaries... "You don't mind, do you? Me calling like this?" "No, I don't mind... Don't have anyone at home to call... Except maybe my dog..." Yes, Chris had made it clear all week just how single he was. "You've got that seminar tomorrow, don't you? You need to prepare for that?" Give him an out, remind him that business comes before pleasure. "I got that ready yesterday, once I didn't have you and Gordy and Sacha around to distract me..." I could hear the smile in his voice. If voices could be described by colors or textures, my boyfriend Tommy's resonant baritone would be a highly polished bronze, but Chris had a voice that was smoky blue, with a gentle, reedy quality, like a softly played saxophone. It was different than I was used to, and I was surprised that I liked it. I liked it a lot. "Oh, yeah, we really had to twist your arm..." "You're a corrupting influence, Meg, admit it." Yes! He was teasing me, maybe even flirting... "Yes, I forced you to visit that castle..." "Yes! The castle, and the tavern, and the disco..." "Well, isn't that what conferences are about?" "Apparently the sharing of scientific discoveries within the international community is not a priority with you..." "During the day, of course it's a priority! After dinner... well... you saw me talking to Korlov at least..." "He was trying to pick you up! And then you go and have a date with Minowitz..." "It was not a date!" "Did he pay for your drinks?" "Yes..." "Then it was a date." "Argghh!! It would have been rude to refuse. Can I help it if some men like to be gallant around a woman? Would you rather I pretend that I'm 'one of the guys?'" "It doesn't matter what I prefer, you should do what you feel is right." "Exactly, and I'm going to behave like a woman, whatever that means. If, as a result, some men won't take my work seriously, oh well. I doubt they would take me seriously if I tried to behave like a man." "Excellent point, I hadn't thought of that. Although I don't know exactly how we got there." "Yeah, well, it's a little hard for me to avoid thinking about such things." I realized Chris might get defensive at this, most reasonable men would, "Actually, now that I've worked through it, being true to myself in a male dominated field and all that, I've been feeling a lot more confident, with respect to work." "I see..." "I'm rambling aren't I?" "Well, Meg, I wasn't going to say anything..." "Yeah, well, now you know... I tend to go off on tangents... It makes me very creative but..." "But it's something I should keep in mind if I want to hire you." "Well, Chris, I wasn't going to say anything..." The voice on the phone laughed again. God, what was I doing? Did he think I'm trying to sleep my way into a job? The truth was, I wanted this man... no, more than that, but I needed to get to know him better, he was still so much of a mystery. Chris was handsome, charming, sophisticated... and reserved. He didn't talk much about himself. The fact that he was still single made me wonder if he was gay. On the other hand, he could have just been hurt very badly, that was probably it. He had a way of approaching me and flirting, then backing off. I never pressed it, I let him take the initiative, until tonight. Why was I doing this? See, I also wanted to work for him. Chris was very well respected in the field, I couldn't go wrong having him as a boss. The smart thing would be to stay cool, keep it professional. If I did end up working for him, or even at the same lab, the romance could happen eventually... if it was meant to be. Otherwise I could blow my reputation entirely... "So what does your boyfriend do?" Shit! Tommy! I was ready to run off with a man I've known for a week. What was happening to me? It was perceptive of him to turn the conversation in that direction. "He's a network manager, for the electrical engineering department at the university." "Really? A very portable job, I see..." "You noticed, huh?" "I'm well acquainted with the two-body problem, let's just leave it at that." The two-body problem. Academics live the life of gypsies in the early part of their career, asking spouses to pull up stakes after grad school, the first post-doc, and maybe the second post-doc, before even thinking of settling in as a staff scientist or as a member of a faculty somewhere. Tommy had the type of training that could get him a job anywhere, if the need arose. Not necessarily a reason to start a relationship, but definitely a factor in keeping one alive. "You and ... Tommy are engaged, right?" "No..." I knew he was going to ask if Tommy was willing to follow me once my post-doc was up next May. "But you're living together..." "Yes..." "Have you two discussed the future?" "Not really..." "Meg..." His voice had that gentle scolding quality, the one you hear when a male friend is about to give you the 'Men are pigs' speech. "Do you want to marry him?" he asked. I hesitated. If he had asked me the week before I would have said... Christ, I didn't know what I would have said. That was the question wasn't it? "I don't know." "That pretty much answers it, if you don't know." "No! It's not like that. I just haven't thought about the future, because... because..." "Because?" "I wasn't ready to ask him to follow me, and I didn't know how he felt about getting married again after his divorce... and..." "There's more?" "I don't know if he's ... the one." Chris was quiet on the other end of the line. What could he have said, really? "I guess Tommy and I need to talk some." "Can I ask one question? If you weren't sure this guy was 'the one,' why did you move in with him?" "For the obvious reasons, I guess, and I feel comfortable with Tommy, he's like the guys I hung out with in high school. Maybe I thought this was as close to 'the one' as I was going to get, I'm still not sure that he isn't. This trip is messing with my head." Why was I talking like this? What was I trying to accomplish? "If you have doubts when you two are apart, that sounds like something you should pay attention to." "It's not doubts, I don't think. It's just that when you're in a relationship, you slip into roles. One's the sensitive one and the other is the rational one, for example. So when I am away from him, I'm forced to be a whole person. I remember what it's like to be independent... It was a nice feeling." "You can't be a whole person with your boyfriend?" "I guess I haven't been... I suppose that's asking a lot, huh? To be a whole person and still give yourself to a relationship. This afternoon, I took a walk in this old church yard... well not that old, the cemetery seemed to have it's heyday in the 20's and 30's with all these Art Deco monuments and the newest markers are in the 60's. Most of them say, "Hier ruht mein lieber Mann."Here rests my beloved husband. It was quite moving. I guess I want that, too... I want to find the real thing, whatever that is." Chris laughed, "I'm sorry, but I just realized that I'm getting used to your meanderings. You did get to the point eventually." I laughed, too, "Why, thank you. I have my moments." Chris didn't respond, but I heard him move and stretch on the other end of the line. "I'm sorry, if you have things to do, I can let you go. I've monopolized the conversation with my favorite subject... me." I was relieved to hear him chuckle a bit, taking my joke as it was intended, "Well, I do need to visit the bathroom." "Then I'll let you go." "Wait, give me your number and I'll call you back in a sec." "Are you sure?" "What else do I have to do except watch TV with German dubbing, which I don't understand, or turn to the porn channel and try to decipher the action with a blackout over the middle of the screen... It doesn't cover everything..." Once again I could hear the grin in his voice. He was ready to change the subject... but to what? "You could just pay, you know..." "I've never had to pay for it before, I'm not starting now..." "Oh really?" Chris paused, "Um, I'll call you back in a sec. Give me your number." I gave him my number and I put down the receiver. I decided to get into my robe and I brought a pillow over to the desk by the window. The sun had gone down and I watched the city lights. I turned off the lamp in my room so no one could see in while I reclined against the window. I turned on the television while I waited. It was 'X-files' and through the dubbing, Scully just didn't seem right without the inflections Gillian Anderson put in her voice. All of her vulnerability was in her voice. The phone rang. "Hello?" "Meg? It's Chris... Now where were we?" "Something about paying for it, I think." "Yeah... Well, I meant before that." "Well, we pretty much established that I don't know what to do about Tommy, thank you very much." "What did I do?" "Fine, go ahead and feign innocence. See if I care... No really, I'm just going to have to think about that, I guess I've been putting it off." "Maybe we should talk about something else." "Like what?" "Something lighter I suppose, this has been a rather intense conversation. Any suggestions?" "We could talk about the weather... or talk shop..." "Okay, we'll talk about the weather. What does it look like in Berlin?" "It's dark, with scattered bits of light." "You can see the stars?" "No, just the city lights. It looks much better at night. Right outside my window I can see this god-awful tower with this globe thing impaled on it. I think it's some sort of landmark, but there's all these radio and microwave things on it that it spoils whatever charm it may have had." "Things, dazzling me with those highly technical terms, huh?" "Bite me, Chris." It was out before I could take it back. I could only hope he would ignore it. "You'd like that, wouldn't you." "Maybe... among other things, but I won't go into that.." "Oh please, 'go into that', I'm curious." I thrilled at the impish curl of his voice. I became aware of my skin tingling against the fabric of my robe. "I don't think we should go there." "Go where?" "You know..." "No, I don't know, why don't you tell me?" "Talking about sex, you do remember sex, don't you?" "I don't think I do remember, could you describe it to me?" "Well, yes I could, quite well, in fact. But I don't think that would be a good idea..." "I suppose you're right, you have a boyfriend, after all..." "And we're colleagues..." "And we're colleagues..." he replied. "Maybe that's a good thing, though. Can I ask you something?" "I guess..." "Do you feel like a whole person right now?" Yes, I did. That was it, wasn't it? The reason I pursued this man against all my better judgment. I felt that I could explore all of myself with Chris. "Yes... What about you?" "To tell you the truth, I don't know. I haven't thought about it as much as you have. You're not the only one who has been avoiding the future." "So if something happened tonight, nothing would be resolved." "We just wouldn't be alone." I paused a moment. Life is short, I thought. "Okay." "Okay? Meg, you mean that?" "Yes." "Well, then," suddenly Chris was silent. "Cat got your tongue?" Chris let out a burst of nervous laughter, "Heh-heh, she said tongue." I let my voice drop a little, adding some huskiness to it, "Yes, I did." "Oh wow, I like your voice like that... it sounds like..." "The voice of your car? 'The door is ajar,'" I said, with a deep, even voice. Chris chuckled in recognition, "Yes... You've done this before, haven't you?" "Mmm hmm," I hummed in wordless affirmation, "Are you comfortable?" "Uh.. for the most part, I'm in bed, and you? What are you wearing?" "My bathrobe, do you want me to take it off?" "Not yet. Are you wearing anything underneath?" "No." "Are you in bed?" "No, I'm sitting by the window. The lights are off so no one can see in." "Aw, not an exhibitionist?" "Oh, I can be, but that would take the focus away from you." Chris laughed again, but it seemed more relaxed, "How thoughtful of you." "I do my best." "Hmmm... really? Are you touching yourself?" I had felt a tingling build between my legs and it was now time to start the games. I untied my robe... "I'm untying my robe and the cool air in the room feels good against my skin. I'm running my fingernails across a nipple as it hardens in the cold..." "Ahhh... Yes..." "Is there anything you'd like to do?" "I'd want to watch you at first, tell me more." "I cradle the breast in my hand, rubbing my thumb in circles around the areola. I'm imagining you watching me, becoming more aroused. I slip my other hand between my legs. I've become very wet, my fingers are covered in the warm, slippery fluid..." I continued to describe to Chris as my hands explored my body. I listened for indications of his arousal, the shortness of breath, urgency in his voice. "Chris, I need you to talk to me, please." His voice had thickened into grey-blue storm clouds, and in my mind I stood facing the wind, awaiting the downpour. Chris' once placid timber now possessed me, gusts of passion buffeting and twirling around. The words were secondary to the thundering desire. "I have you up against the wall, and I lift up one thigh around me," he huffed. "I press my hips against yours... keep talking, I'm almost there." My own moans were like the wind over an old house, keening and shuddering under the assault. I pressed my feet into the wall as I squeezed and sweat. My hand rubbed urgently between my legs as lightning struck, heat and electricity searing my flesh. I trembled and slid to the floor, listening to Chris' own distant tempest. "I'm done baby..." I panted, "Thank you. What can I do?" There was only a heavy stillness, evoking images of dripping trees and a lightening sky... "I kind of figured that. That last part put me over, when I heard you. I should thank you..." The wind had died down and the storm had run its course. I looked outside to see the moon appear from behind the clouds. "I wish I could hold you, Meg. I wish I could have seen you." Chris' said in periwinkle tones. His tenderness curled up next to me as I slipped into bed. "Yeah, but it was lovely hearing your voice..." "I'm about to fall asleep, Meg. We should talk when we get the chance." "Yeah, go to sleep. We can talk later." "Night, Meg." "Good night, Chris." I kept the curtains open and watched the few stars that could be seen over the city lights. The clouds had passed and it was a clear night. I didn't know if I would stay with Tommy or pursue something with Chris, but I knew I didn't feel alone anymore. I felt whole. AUTHOR: Lostgirl

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/15649.txt

deirdre

Merge

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

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/13720.txt

Lord Malinov

The Romantic

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

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/7270.txt

Miss Behavin`

Spirit of the Season

"Goodnight, Virginia. Merry Christmas!" She looked up from her report and forced a smile. "Merry Christmas to you too, Lori; have a wonderful holiday." "Don't stay too late; it is Christmas Eve, after all." "I won't -- promise." Her secretary shifted the packages in her hands, smiled, and then quickly made her way down the hall to catch the elevator. Virginia picked up her report and spun her chair around to look out the window. It was only 6:00 p.m. and it was already dark outside. Huge, fluffy snowflakes were lazily dropping out of the sky and settling on the ground as if to snuggle with all of their friends. The city was a circus of lights and people, with no ringmaster to control the spectators. Last-minute shoppers were scurrying about below, hoping to find the perfect gift, or at least one that didn't have to be glued back together. Virginia sighed and returned to the report sitting on her lap, reading the same paragraph over twice. She looked out the window again, running the end of her pen over her bottom lip. She wondered what it would be like to get excited about the holiday season, to spend Christmas Eve with family, friends, and excited children, to be with the ones you love. The last time she had felt that way was when she was seventeen -- thirteen years ago. The memories were faded and the feelings too faint to stir any kind of emotion in her -- or so she pretended, unable to fool even herself. "Virginia, you're still here." She spun around in her chair and smiled. "Very observant of you, Mack. It's no wonder you're a Vice President here." He smiled back, although his eyes showed his concern for her as they did every year. There was no reason why she should be alone for Christmas, although she would argue the fact. "Why don't you put on your coat and come home with me? Sarah and the kids would love to see you, and there's always enough food to feed an army." "That's because you and Sarah created an army," Virginia said, speaking of their seven children. Mack laughed and leaned against the doorframe, his voice taking a soft tone. "I'm serious, Virginia. For the past eight years I've left here on Christmas Eve to find you staring out the window. I wish you would at least talk to me about it, or talk to Sarah. She's a wonderful listener." Virginia dropped the report on her desk, stood up and walked slowly over to Mack. "I appreciate the offer, Mack, as I do every year, but once again I'm going to have to decline. Wish Sarah and those munchkins happy holidays for me, and please don't worry -- I'm fine." She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. Mack was the closest thing to a father that she had, although he was only ten years older. He held her close and sighed. One of these years she would say yes and he'd probably have a heart attack and miss it. She released him and smiled. "Did you remember my bag of presents for the kids?" He nodded to the bag sitting in the hall and smiled. "All present and accounted for, Ma'am." Virginia rolled her eyes at his bad pun. "Have yourself a merry little Christmas, Mack," she whispered. "You too, Darling," he said, touching her cheek, and then turning to leave. He picked up her bag of gifts and turned back to her. "The offer stands, if you change your mind -- you know that." She nodded and smiled, afraid to speak as the tears welled up in her eyes. He smiled back and headed down the hall. She watched him get onto the elevator and went back to her chair. She didn't bother picking up her report again, since she wouldn't be able to concentrate on it anyway. The snow was falling heavier now, reflecting off the lights as the wind carried it off and spun it around. Maybe she should have taken a vacation and gone someplace else. It didn't really matter, though; the feelings would follow her no matter where she was. You can run, but you can't hide. She left her chair and sat on the window ledge, kicking off her heels and spinning around. Leaning back, she stretched out her legs and leaned her forehead against the cool glass as a single tear ran down her cheek and froze against the glass. A tear, frozen in time in remembrance of what could have been but never would be. ~~~ Greg turned from the window and looked at the mess on his desk, chairs, and floor. It looked as if a tornado had gone through his office, sweeping up all of his papers and sending them flying. Could he leave it looking like this in good conscience? He shrugged and decided that he didn't really care; after all, it was his company. In the worst case, he would just get a secretary really pissed off as she felt the need to straighten it all up. He hated the end of the year. The budget reports were starting to suffocate him, and if he heard one more Christmas carol he was going to scream. "Merry Christmas, Mr. Grinch," he thought to himself as he picked up his overcoat and headed to the door. As an afterthought, he went back to his desk and picked up the Christmas present that sat there. It was still wrapped, but the colorful paper couldn't hide the fact that it was a bottle of his favorite scotch -- a present from his employees. It had become his Christmas tradition in the past two years to celebrate the season with his present in the hopes that he'd get so drunk that he'd wake up and it would all be over. He tucked the bottle under his arm and headed for the elevator. "Hey, Mr. McInnis, Merry Christmas." Greg smiled. "And a Merry Christmas to you too, Tina. Are you almost finished? You shouldn't be here on Christmas Eve." "Just one more office to clean, and then I'm outta here," she said, smiling. "It could have waited, you know." "I know, but I wouldn't be able to sleep knowing that the offices at McInnis Enterprises still had to be cleaned." She smiled sincerely at him and he smiled back, knowing that she meant what she said. "Plus, you gave me that incredible bonus again, and I wanted to see you and thank you." He smiled, "Only a small token of how much you're appreciated, Tina. Well, I guess I'll head home, since everyone else left me." "Almost everyone, you mean." Greg looked at her, a confused expression on his face. "Almost?" "Yes, Miss Wilder is still here." "Oh, I see," he said slowly. "Merry Christmas, Tina, and I don't want to see you back here until after New Years, do you understand? The office will be closed." She laughed and he smiled. "Yes, Sir!" she said saluting him. "Merry Christmas to you too, Mr. McInnis." He headed to the elevator as she pushed her cleaning cart into an office, humming to herself. The doors opened and he stepped in and pressed the button for the underground parking. As the elevator started down, he reached out and, on impulse, hit the button for the sixth floor. Stepping out as the doors opened, he looked down the hall both ways and headed to the right, where he could see a light coming out from one of the offices. She didn't hear him as he stood in the doorframe, studying her closely. They didn't run into each other every day, as both of them were out of the office more often than not. Sometimes they traveled together; he attended meetings and visited affiliates while she took care of promotions. He had admired her ability since he had first met her about seven years ago, after she had already been working for them for just over a year. He smiled as he remembered the first time he had seen her. He had been totally disgusted with a promotional package, and the scene he had made upon entering the Marketing Department wasn't pretty. "What the fuck do you call this?" he had yelled to no one in particular as he waved the layout around. The room had become very quiet as eight pairs of blank eyes had stared at him. The manager had spoken up. "It's the new..." "It's a piece of shit! What the hell is with all this pink?" "We thought it would be eye catching and..." "Eye catching? It looks like Barbie's dream home after a bulldozer ran over it." He was furious, and when he looked over he could see Virginia trying to stifle a laugh. He looked at her, "You -- I want you to come up with something that doesn't make me want to throw up." She looked momentarily confused, her eyes moving from him to her immediate boss and then back at him again.He figured that she would back down -- claim it wasn't her job or some equally weak excuse. "How much time do I have?" she asked, surprising him. "I'll give you forty-eight hours," he had said, tossing the layout on the floor before storming back out. He was surprised when, about thirty-nine hours later, he was presented with two different ideas, neither of which made him want to toss his lunch. Both ideas were well thought through and very professional. They also showed promise and the persistence of someone who wasn't wearing blinders -- someone who could think outside the box, and he admired that greatly. He smiled again, remembering when he asked her what she wanted to do in the future -- where she saw herself going. She had immediately responded, "I want to keep coloring outside of the lines." It had taken him a second to figure out what she was saying, and when he did, he realized how much alike they were -- unconventional at best. As he watched her now, he thought about how far she had come and how quickly she had gotten there. People who didn't know her, that didn't know her work, probably thought that it had to do with the way she looked. His eyes fell from her neatly pinned up blonde hair down her long neck. Her round breasts rose and fell softly beneath her silky white blouse. Her waist was small, leading down to little but curvy hips. The red skirt that she was wearing had moved up her thighs, leaving her long legs exposed. She was one of those women that you were immediately attracted to because of her looks. She wasn't sexy in the form of a beautiful flashy actress. Instead, she had a very wholesome look that made you think of the girl next door. Actually, had she been the girl next door, there would be a lot of very happy men out there. It was hard to describe how someone could be sexy and wholesome at the same time, but if words could describe it, then that would be Virginia. "Before you fall out the window, can you let me check to see if I'm insured for that?" Her head bolted up and she looked over to the man standing in her door. "Greg." "How goes it?" he asked as he moved into her office and tossed his overcoat on the couch. "Going, going, gone," she said, smiling weakly at him. "Shouldn't you be off doing whatever it is that one does on Christmas Eve?" He already knew the answer, although he didn't know the reason. "Shouldn't you?" she shot back, side-swiping his question, although she too knew the answer. "I was just about to break into my new traditional holiday mode," he said, holding up the wrapped bottle. "Don't let me stop you," she said as she watched him sit on the edge of her desk. "I wasn't," he said, looking around her office. "Actually, I was looking for someone to join me, maybe start another new tradition. Where do you keep your glasses?" "In the portable bar," she said. "You have a portable bar?" he asked, a little shocked. "No," she said, smiling. He shook his head and smiled back. "Stay there and I'll be right back." He jumped off the desk and headed out her door. Virginia's eyes followed him until he disappeared. She wondered what he wanted and then shook her head, leaning it back against the window frame. Greg was pretty much the ideal boss, if there was such a thing. He allowed you to explore new ground without fear that you'd stumble and bring the business crashing down. He was opinionated and certainly let you know when you'd disappointed him, which she did from time to time; but he never held it against you, and it was stressed that it wasn't something that you should take personally. Everything she did she took personally, so when he did show disapproval in the way a venture was turning out, it depressed her, but she kept it to herself. She had become a master at hiding her emotions after so many years of practice. She admired him completely. He had what it took to keep this company going and was always right on the cutting edge of everything. Sometimes he took risks that seemed almost suicidal, but nine times out of ten they were successful and people stopped questioning his sanity. He walked back in, holding up two mugs. "Do you want the teddy bear or the one that says 'Are We Having Fun Yet?'" "Tough choice -- I'll take the bear," she said. He sat back up on her desk and started unwrapping the bottle, carefully pulling off the shiny red bow with the mistletoe hanging from it. As he peeled off the paper, he watched her as she continued to stare out the window. He broke the seal and poured a generous amount into each mug before returning the cap to the bottle and setting it aside. Picking up both mugs, he slid off the desk and moved over to her. Looking up, she took the mug from him and smiled, thanking him. "I couldn't find any ice," he apologized, staring down into her blue sad eyes. "After a few, I probably won't notice nor care," she said softly. Greg sat down on the ledge beside her feet. She pulled her legs up and he leaned back against the window. Looking over at her, he held up his mug in a toast. "To your health," he said, thinking of how stupid that was. She smiled and clicked her mug against his, "And to yours." She took a sip of the scotch and felt it burn as it slid down her throat. She couldn't remember the last time she had had a drink, and if she made it to the bottom of this mug she'd probably be on the floor. "I've been reading over the final report on the Tyson merger, and I think I'll have some ideas for you about how we should approach the..." "I don't want to talk about business, Virginia," he said, rubbing his thumb against his mug. "No?" "No." "Okay." They stared at each other, neither saying a word. She wondered what he wanted; he wondered if she had ever thought about him the way he had allowed himself to think about her a couple of times. "Way back when -- you know, when I was a kid, ninety years ago," he watched as she laughed and then continued. "I remember how exciting it was on Christmas Eve; the smells of baking, the excitement of the unknown, wanting to explore the presents under the tree without getting caught. I also have a confession to make. I pretended to believe in Santa Claus until I was ten just so I could get the extra gifts." Virginia looked shocked, "You mean there isn't really a Santa Claus?" "Damn, me and my big mouth!" She laughed and pushed herself up, pulling her knees up under her chin as she took another sip of her scotch. It was starting to slide down a little easier now. She found herself relaxing, getting caught up in the Christmas memories. "I remember my two younger sisters used to elect me to go out and scan under the tree while they distracted Mom and Dad. They would create a diversion and I'd move in and take inventory." She laughed softly at the memory as it grabbed a hold of her heart and squeezed. He watched her face, knowing that somewhere very close to the surface was the reason why she wasn't with her family tonight. No one knew the answer -- just that she never was. She never talked about them and would usually clam up if asked. He didn't say a word, just chuckled softly at the mental image of that. "One year my older brother got up at 3:00 a.m. and opened everyone's presents," he said, remembering the look on his parents' faces when they stepped into the living room. Virginia laughed and he continued. "He's forty-five now and probably still does it. His wife probably has to lock him in their bedroom on Christmas Eve. More?" he said, holding up his mug. She nodded and handed him her mug, watching as he pulled off his gray suit jacket and loosening his tie before pouring their second drink. She watched the muscles in his back flex as he moved. If his older brother was only forty-five, then that probably put him around forty-two, she guessed. He was tall, a little over six feet, and in good physical shape. She knew that he spent a lot of time in the company gym. Mack had once said that he had to tire out his body in order to make himself think clearer. Each to his own, she thought. "So, what's the company gossip on my much hidden divorce, now that the word is out?" he said, repositioning himself on the window ledge and looking at her. "Married to the company, ignoring the Mrs. -- the usual," she said, honestly. She never minced words and had no use for head games. "Not very scandalous, huh?" he said, laughing as he took a large gulp of his drink. "If they only knew." Virginia shrugged, not wanting to pry since it was none of her business. She swallowed more scotch and wondered when it stopped burning on the way down. "You know, Virginia, you spend your life doing what you think is right, trying to provide for those you're responsible for, and upon doing that you end up losing either one or the other." She raised an eyebrow, showing her confusion. "I've worked like a demon for twenty years getting to where I am now, and I have nothing to show for it besides this place, this company." "No small feat," she said honestly. "Oh, I'm not complaining about that, and I know I dug my own grave; but it doesn't seem fair somehow." "Life sucks and then you die," she said, staring into his blue eyes. "A fine festive Christmas toast," he said, laughing and raising his mug to her. "I guess I always figured that I had the bull by the horns, but apparently I was only holding his tail." "Do you miss her?" she asked, immediately regretting asking. "Yes and no," he replied slowly. "I miss the idea of there being an 'us', you know? But I don't blame her for finally giving up on me. I wasn't much of a husband, I'll be the first to admit that; but in my mind I was doing what had to be done. She knew what she was getting into, and I guess she figured that eventually I would become the man she wanted me to be." "What man is that?" "One that comes home every night on time, mows the grass, cleans the pool, and plays bridge with the neighbors.""He looked over at her and added, "That just ain't gonna happen in this lifetime." A church bell bonged outside, and she looked at her watch. It was only 8:00, and her heart sank. If there ever was a never-ending day, it had to be this one. "So are you still seeing what's-his-name?" She laughed. "His name was David, and, no, not for about 6 months now. He decided that I spent way too much time away from home to be worth the bother." "Do you miss him?" She thought about that. "No, but I miss the sex." Greg choked on his drink, her comment taking him by total surprise. He looked at her grin as she obviously enjoyed his reaction. "Just the sex?" he croaked. "Yup - oh, and the way he used to pick up my dry cleaning on his way over to my house to have sex." "It is hard to find those qualities in a man, isn't it?" he said, laughing and finishing off his scotch. "My father was that kind of a man. It didn't matter how busy he was or how many things he had going -- he always took the time to make sure Mom and us kids were happy. That actually bothered her sometimes, because she was pretty damned independent." She stopped and wondered why she was telling him this. Greg listened to her, picking up on the past tense in her words and feeling the sadness in her voice. "Tell me more about them," he said. "Nothing to tell, really," she said, clamming up as always. "Let's play a game," he said, turning his body to face her, his leg brushing against her feet. "It's kind of like 'show me yours and I'll show you mine', only you tell me what that big hurt is that you've been holding onto forever, and I'll, in turn, tell you mine." She slugged back the rest of her scotch, feeling it spinning her head and fogging her judgment; and yet, it didn't matter. She felt like a dam ready to burst. "You first," she said, figuring that if his wasn't really good then she'd just make something up to satisfy him. "Okay. Two Christmases ago I was in Phoenix and wondered what the hell I was doing there when everyone else was off enjoying the holidays. I jumped on the next plane back and decided to surprise my wife and I did. I really did surprise her -- her and Jeff Wilson, that is." Virginia's jaw dropped open. "Jeff Wilson? The Director of Finance?" "Ex-Director, and one in the same." "Your wife was sleeping with him?" "Well, I wouldn't exactly call it sleeping. It was more like walking into the kitchen and finding him fucking her over the table." She tried to pick up on any emotion in his voice but received little. She remembered when Wilson had suddenly resigned his position from the company -- two years ago, now that she thought about it. "I'm not sure which one of them I miss the most," he said. "He was a damned good accountant." He smiled at his attempt at a joke, but the smile wasn't returned. "What did you do?" "After the initial shock wore off, I thought about just turning around and walking out, since neither of them knew I was standing there. I just about did that, but then the shocked and hurt feelings were overtaken by the rage I felt. So I cleared my throat loud enough for them both to hear. The look on their faces was just about enough to satisfy me -- just about." He got up, took her mug that was swinging from her hand and moved back to her desk. "The rest is history, I guess. She didn't need me, I didn't need her, and although I did need Jeff, I had seen him seen him naked and could no longer look at him across the boardroom table. So I told him that he could either resign or find himself in the big scandal of being fired." "Could you have exposed that?" she asked. He stopped pouring and thought about his answer before speaking. "I doubt it. My goal, selfish as it may be, is to keep this company above reproach, or seemingly so. It didn't matter; he left quietly, and she's now living in France, which is almost far enough away." He handed her the teddy mug, then pulled up her high-back leather chair and dropped himself into it. Virginia stretched out her legs, crossing them at her ankles. She looked down at her red skirt and smiled; she had hoped that the color would put her into the spirit of the season -- what a dork she was. "Your turn," he said, putting his feet up on the windowsill and leaning back in the chair. "I'll tell you this, but I never want to discuss it again; do you understand?" He nodded in response. She drained her mug and took a deep breath, trying not to think about what she was doing. "We always visited my grandparents in Florida before Christmas; always, without fail. But when I was eighteen I had a job clerking at a department store, so I bowed out of the trip; I wanted to be a responsible adult and do the job I had committed myself to. They were proud of me and left with my sisters, promising to return on Christmas Eve as always. I worked until 5:00 on Christmas Eve and then rushed home to turn on the Christmas lights and get out the treats before they got home. Christmas was always a big deal around our house. I turned tree lights on, cranked up the Christmas tunes, lit the fire and waited. Time moved slowly as I waited and then started to worry. By 11:00 I became overcome with anxiety, feeling caged. I wanted to call Gramma and ask what time they had left, but I didn't want to worry her, so I paced around the house, my mood growing darker with each passing second." She looked at him, tears silently sliding down her cheeks; it was all he could do to sit there instead of rushing over and holding her. She started talking again, her voice barely a whisper as her eyes became a darker shade of blue, swimming in tears. "I waited all night for them to come home; I'm still waiting." If there was such a thing as being able to feel your own heart break, Greg had just felt it. He put his mug on her desk and rolled himself over to her in the chair. He didn't touch her -- he just looked at her. He was afraid that if he said anything he'd choke up. Before him now sat the one person who he'd never thought he'd see the inside of. She was always friendly -- approachable, but never, ever personal. "Virginia..." he managed to whisper. "I didn't tell you that for your sympathy, Greg; I was just fulfilling my end of the game." He nodded and, without thinking, his hand moved to her cheek and his thumb brushed away the new tears. She looked like a fragile doll and his arms ached to hold her. Virginia pondered his thumb rubbing against her skin. She missed the touch of a man; maybe if he weren't who he was she might have pursued it, just for the sake of the bodily contact that she ached for. She was lost in her thoughts as he moved his hand to the back of her head and pulled her lips to his, kissing her softly. Her mind raced, but her body reacted as her lips moved against his. His other hand moved around her waist, pulling her closer to him as her tongue traced his bottom lip. His hands were warm against her skin and she began sinking against him, moving to the edge of the window ledge as their kiss became urgent. Suddenly her mind clicked back to reality and she pulled back from him, her breathing slightly ragged. "I told you that I don't want your sympathy," she whispered. He laughed and she frowned. "You think that I want to make love to you for sympathy's sake? If that's the case, Virginia, then you're not as smart as I thought you were." She pushed herself back against the window, trying to regain her composure. She had always been attracted to him, but she had admitted that openly only to herself. She had always found him that way, but that wasn't exactly the point. "You know, Virginia, inside of you is a person who is begging to get out. A little girl who never had the chance to grow up without dragging around a lot of hurt and pain. If you'd let her out -- show the world that inner you -- you'd probably feel better." "Thank you, Dr. Joyce Brothers," she said sarcastically. She knew he was right. Her pain brought on fear, the fear of giving herself to someone else. She couldn't open herself up and love someone without thinking that they, too, would just leave her. He laughed and sat back in his chair. He probably shouldn't have kissed her, but he could still taste her on his lips and didn't really care. "I don't feel sorry for you -- not in the way that you think." "Then how?" "Well, I see a woman who has everything going for her, and I know that she is going to go far, whether it be here or somewhere else. I've also just seen that she's actually human, and locked up inside of her are feelings that she needs to deal with." He watched her watching him intently, not saying a word. "If we are being totally honest here, then I'll admit that I've always been attracted to you, from the first moment I saw you trying not to laugh at my Barbie comment." She smiled in remembrance and leaned her head back against the window, staring at the ceiling. She wished that she knew exactly what it was that he wanted from her. She'd worked with him for seven years now and knew how he operated. He wasn't the kind to force himself on anyone, whether it was business oriented or not. If she had sex with him, what would it change? It would make their business trips together really stressed or very pleasurable -- it could go either way. She wasn't looking for a partner, and certainly not one like Greg -- someone that she was pretty sure that she could fall for. "Virginia?" Her blue eyes met his. "Yes?" "If you want me to go, I'll understand. I'll even leave you the rest of my Christmas present. It changes nothing really, except that I know a little more about you and visa versa." He smiled. "Plus I know what a good kisser you are, although I'd always suspected that." In a split second she made up her mind and didn't give herself a chance to second-guess her decision. She quickly put her thoughts into a short lecture. "Okay, here's the deal.""You want to make love to me and I want to have sex with you. It's Christmas Eve, the worst fucking day of the year, and I'm depressed, and I don't think it's one of your favorite holidays either. So together we are two lonely people who have consumed half a bottle of scotch and find each other attractive, so I propose this: we throw caution to the wind, fuck like bunnies, and afterwards we go our separate ways and we never discuss this again." He listened to her with great amusement. "That's quite a proposal, Virginia. How come one of those have never come across my desk before? I would have accepted it readily... before." She looked at him, cocking her head to one side. "Before? Before what?" "Before I found out that you were real," he said. "Oh, give it up, Greg! I've always been real. A real woman, doing real work, living a real life, just like everyone else in this place." He leaned forward in his chair. "I disagree. You've always been real up to a point, but every time someone gets remotely close you back away, securing yourself back behind your glass walls. You allow others to see you, but in no case are they allowed to get any closer than those walls allow." "How do you know this? How could you possibly know so much about me?" Her eyes challenged him as she could feel herself getting mad. There was only one person who even remotely knew anything about her and that was Mack, and apparently he had a big mouth. "Let me explain something to you, Virginia. There are certain people in this company who, for business reasons, I've always kept an eye on. I believe that people will perform to their best -- and sometimes exceed that, if they are challenged -- and never get the chance to become bored or too comfortable in their jobs. You're one of those people, and you always have been. I've watched you for the past seven years go from a graphic designer lost in a crowd to where you are now. And never, for one moment, think that your promotions have had anything to do with how I think about you personally, or that I've had some kind of hidden desire to bring you up the corporate ladder just so I could pounce on you. I do have an interest in you, and that's because you're a key player here and I respect what you do and how you do it." He took a deep breath, making sure he still had her attention and then continued. "And now, after all of these years, I just kissed you, and I apologize if that somehow offended you; but it happened." "Are you finished?" she asked. He thought. "I think so, yes." "Good. Now was that a yes or a no to my proposal?" He blinked. He started wondering if she had multiple personalities, and then she grinned at him and he knew that he was forgiven. "It's a yes, except for one thing." "What?" "It's not something that I want to forget or not discuss, Virginia, unless I'm really bad or can't get it up or something." She laughed and then he did, knowing that getting it up wasn't going to be a problem, since he had been semi-erect since he had kissed her. "What if we both really enjoy it? Where does that leave us?" she asked quite honestly. "Having sex in the stationery closet and photocopying our butts after hours?" She laughed and looked at him. It actually felt good being with someone who understood why she was the way she was -- someone else who had always put business first, although for a different reason. "So how do you want to do this?" she asked. "Geeze, Virginia, you're taking all the romance out of this," he replied, smiling at her. He reached over and took her hands, pulling her off the window ledge and onto his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned over to kiss him and he pulled her close to him. Their bodies pressed together as they kissed, their tongues exploring each other's mouths. She pushed her fingers up through his hair as his one hand rubbed up and down her back. His lips moved from hers and started kissing down her neck. She leaned her head back, exposing her neck to him, feeling his tongue trailing down her skin until he reached the nape of her neck. He pulled her closer, leaning back in the chair, and then grabbed her firmly as the chair started falling backwards and tipped over. They spilled onto the floor, stunned for a moment, and then started laughing. "Think that was a sign?" he asked as he pushed the chair off of them. "Are you okay?" "Very fine," she said, looking down at him. "You're pretty soft to land on." "Don't use the word 'soft' when we're about to make love, Virginia. It's not good for a guy's ego, you know." She laughed, wondering why he kept referring to it as making love when it was really just sex. She sat up on his stomach and reached for his tie, pulling it out of the knot. Her fingers moved to his buttons and started releasing them one by one as he put his hands behind his head and watched her. "Lean down here for a second," he said. She leaned down and his hands moved to the clip that held her hair up and he undid it. Her hair dropped around her face and he smiled, telling her that was better. She smiled and sat back up, undoing the last of his buttons after pulling his shirttails out. Pushing his shirt back, she let her hands run over his strong chest, her fingers running though his sparse chest hair. Shifting down until she was straddling his thighs, she reached for his belt and unhooked it. He watched her, the look of determination on her face both amusing him and turning him on. He felt her push the button of his pants out of the hole and then slowly pull down his zipper and his body shook. His cock was pressed hard against his briefs as her fingers hooked under the waistband of his pants and underwear. She started tugging them down. "Lift your hips." He obeyed her order, feeling his cock spring free as she exposed it. She pulled them down, shifting herself until they were around his knees and then sitting back down on him. She traced an invisible line up his cock and ran the pad of her finger around the swollen head. "I never thought I'd be giving you a blow job," she said, taking his cock into her hand and moving it slowly up and down his shaft. "I never thought I'd ever get one," he said, moaning as her fingers tightened around his throbbing cock. "From me?" "No, in general," he said, arching his back slightly as she continued to stroke. Virginia considered his words. "You mean you've never had one before?" "Never," he said, his eyes meeting hers. "Your wife?" "She had a lot of very expensive dental work and didn't want to risk it -- or so she said." "And no one has ever done this for you? You've never had a secretary under your desk?" He laughed. "Well, if you'll think about it, my secretary is about fifty-nine years old and probably has dental concerns of her own." Virginia smiled and wondered if he was telling her the truth. He could tell her thoughts by the look on her face. "I'm serious, Virginia. I haven't been with many women, and the ones I have been with have never offered and I've never asked." She shuffled down his body, moving herself between his legs, thinking it would have been more comfortable to get rid of his pants. Her eyes locked onto his as she held his cock straight up and ran her tongue from base to tip. His body shook, and when her tongue moved around the head of his cock, his hips pushed up. Virginia pulled his cock down and pressed the head between her lips. She tightened them around it and flicked her tongue at his skin. Greg moaned at the sensation of her hot wet mouth around his cock. The feeling was incredible, and he closed his eyes momentarily before opening them again to watch as his cock disappeared between her lips, and then he moaned again. As she lowered her mouth on his cock, she moved one hand to his balls and started rubbing her fingers gently against them. The head of his cock slid over the roof of her mouth and she moaned before pulling her head back, tightening her lips and sucking in hard. Greg's hips started to rise and fall, fucking her mouth slowly. The way her lips tightened around his cock, the way her forehead kept banging against his stomach, made him want to slam into her. It was a feeling that he had never experienced before. He moved his hands down to the back of her head, guiding her head up and down, although she didn't need any assistance. Virginia gently squeezed his balls as she sucked on his cock harder, feeling it throbbing between her lips. Greg tugged gently at her hair, resisting the urge to drive his cock deeper into her mouth. He moaned as she pulled her head back, feeling her teeth graze his skin. The feeling combined with the visual became overwhelming and he locked his fingers into her hair and pulled her mouth off his cock. The cool air hit it and he shivered. "Two more seconds of that, Virginia, and..." She knew what he was about to say, and she wiggled out of his grasp and wrapped her lips back around his cock, taking it into her mouth deep and sucking on it hard. She took long, luxurious sucks, up and down before moving faster and tightening her lips firmly around his pounding hard flesh. Greg tried to hold himself back, but it was impossible. With his fingers locked in her hair, he raised his hips and his body tensed for a second before he came in her mouth, shuddering hard. He could feel her hot mouth sucking in as he held the back of her head. Seconds later, he dropped himself back to the floor and watched as she slowly pulled her lips off of his cock. "That was incredible," he whispered, panting hard as he said, "although a little unfair." "Unfair how?" she asked, her tongue swirling around the head of his cock. "Well, I was really hoping to actually be able to make love to you," he confessed. Virginia laughed and crawled off of him, kneeling beside him and looking down. "That was foreplay. By the time we make it to the actual sex part, you'll be big and strong again, I promise." "I dunno, Darling."I'm old, you know," he grinned at her and sat up, pulling off his shoes and then his pants and briefs. After pulling off his socks and shirt, he looked over at her, smiling. He stood up and held his hands out to her. She took his hands, and he pulled her up, immediately wrapping his arms around her and leaning down, kissing her softly. Her lips tasted like him, and she kissed him back hard, pressing her body against his, gently raking her nails down his bare back. He moved his mouth from her lips, kissing across her cheek to her ear before whispering, "My turn." Pulling back from her, he pretended to study her for a second. "Something's not right here," he muttered. She looked at him with curiosity but didn't say a word. He muttered to himself and looked around her office. "Ah ha!" he said, and walked over to her desk, retrieving the shiny red bow with the piece of mistletoe stuck to it. Grinning, he walked back to her and stuck the bow on the top of her head. "There! Now I can unwrap my present," he said. Virginia laughed, feeling a little goofy with a bow stuck to her head. Greg put his finger under her chin and lifted it, looking down into her eyes. Not a trace of the previous sadness could be found there; her eyes were dark blue and sparkling, just the way they should be. He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. "Yes, Gregory, there is a Santa Claus," he said, kissing her again. His lips trailed down her long neck, kissing here and nibbling there. Her skin tasted sweet as his tongue swirled against it. As his lips nudged her skin, his fingers worked on the buttons of her blouse, slowly popping each one out of its hole. The back of her blouse had already come out of her skirt, and he pulled the front out and finished undoing the buttons. He stood up and slowly pulled her blouse back, exposing her silk and lace-covered breasts. With his palms against her chest, he pushed them up and over her shoulders, causing her blouse to slide gently down her arms and land silently on the floor. His fingers traced down the straps of her bra and over the lacy cups until they met between her breasts. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, his fingers moving down between her breasts and unhooking the clasp. He let go of the material, and the cups slid back, her bare breasts slowly coming out of hiding. He sucked in his breath as her puffy pink nipples appeared. They were hard and swollen, begging for attention. Picking up the straps, he pushed them backwards, and her bra fell down her arms and landed on her blouse. Both hands cupped her breasts, squeezing them softly as he felt her nipples rub against his palms. Virginia closed her eyes and moaned softly, feeling the heat of his soft hands on her body. Leaning down, he raised one of her breasts to his mouth, allowing his tongue to lightly trail over her erect nipple. He felt her body shudder as he teased the tip with his tongue. After running his tongue around her nipple, wetting it fully, he blew on it lightly. Virginia's hands flew to the back of his head and pulled him to her. He opened his mouth and began nuzzling on her nipple, sucking it into his mouth while his tongue welcomed it in, playing with it. He pulled his head back, sucking in hard as he did and stretching her skin. "Oh, God," she whispered, her fingers tugging at his hair. Between his thumb and forefinger, Greg rolled her other nipple. When he squeezed in and pulled it out, Virginia moaned and pressed herself harder against him. His lips released her nipple, and he slowly kissed and licked his way over to her other nipple. Her fingers tugged harder on his hair as he paid her nipple the same attention that he had with the other one. After nuzzling, he released her nipple and kissed down her breast, his tongue licking with long strokes at the underside of her breast. He rubbed his nose against her firm skin, enjoying the weight of her breast against his face. His hands moved to her waist as he dropped to his knees. Sneaking a peek at her face, he felt his cock lurch at the expression on her face. Her eyes were closed, lips half-parted. His hands traced down her small waist and then moved back to fight with the button and zipper on her skirt. He smiled when he thought that the best Christmas presents were the ones that were hard to unwrap. Virginia opened her eyes and looked down at him, "Need some help down there?" she said, smiling. He managed to get the button undone and grinned at her. "Someone used too much tape." The zipper slid down easily, and he pressed his palm against the small of her back, feeling the warmth of her skin and the softness of her body. Very slowly, his hands moved to the waistband of her skirt and pulled it down over her hips. He watched as her little white panties came into view. Like her bra, they were mostly lace and very small. The lace did little to hide what was behind the material. He could smell her, and he fought the urge to move faster. He wanted to unwrap Virginia very slowly. She felt his hands moving down her thighs, following her skirt as it fell. Looking down, she watched his face as he removed her skirt. The excitement was building inside her, and she wanted to grab the back of his head and pull his face against her pussy, but she controlled herself. Instead, she played with his hair with one hand and tugged on one of her nipples with the other. Greg wrapped his hands around one of her tiny ankles and slid his hands up her stockings, over her knee and up her thigh to the top of it. At the top of her thigh-high stocking, he rubbed gently, feeling the top of his one hand lightly brushing against her panties. He could feel the wetness against his skin, and he smiled. With great patience, he moved his hands down, slowly rolling the stocking down, exposing her beautiful leg. As he rolled the stocking down, he kissed her thigh and felt her fingers pulling at his hair. Virginia lifted her foot, and he peeled off the stocking and moved to her other leg. Again, he ran his hands up her leg, but this time, when he reached the top, he leaned against her and tugged on the band with his teeth. His hot breath against her skin made her moan and press against him. He was driving her insane, which she suspected was his goal. Greg tugged the stocking down to her ankle with his teeth, stopping now and then to plant a kiss on various parts of her leg. She lifted her foot, and he pulled off the stocking and tossed it over his shoulder, and it landed on her desk. He looked up at Virginia, who was watching him with great interest; she raised an eyebrow as her stocking hit her desk. "That's part of the fun of Christmas," he said in self-defense. "You get to toss the wrapping all over the place, and the cleaning lady will pick it all up later." Virginia rolled her eyes and was about to say something when she felt his hands sliding up the backs of her thighs. Greg watched her, immensely enjoying the fact that his touch was turning her on so much. He thought for a moment and then stood up on his knees. Holding her hips, he turned her around and got his first glimpse of her beautiful ass. He moaned and pressed his lips against one of her half-covered cheeks. Remembering his plan, he pushed her forward and followed on his knees until she reached the desk. He took one of her ankles and pulled it to the side, making her spread her feet apart. When he was happy with their placement, he rubbed his hand up over her ass to her back and gently pushed her until she was lying down on the top of her desk. "Don't even think about reading that report while you're up there," he quipped, trying to sound serious. "Okay," she said, her breath slightly ragged, "but from this angle I can see a lot of dust on my computer screen." He laughed and lightly slapped her ass. Kneeling behind her, he grabbed her hips and pulled her out a little. Her ass waved in front of his face, her panties barely covering it. Running his hands over her hips, he picked up the tiny waistband of her panties and slowly pulled them down over her ass, moaning as it came into view. He dropped the panties to the floor and began kissing her cheeks. Virginia moaned and pushed back against his face. He wiggled up on his knees until they were between her feet, and when he sat back, he caught his breath and felt his cock jump in response to what he saw. Just below her firm ass were her swollen pussy lips, hanging down between her thighs. Her lips were bare and shiny from her juices. Reaching up, he very lightly ran his finger against her swollen flesh. Her body shook as she pushed back, causing his finger to slip slightly between them. Her skin was soft, hot, and soaked. He pulled his finger back and brought it to his mouth, sucking on it and tasting what he knew he needed a lot more of. With his forehead against her ass, he pushed his tongue out and licked her pussy lips, feeling her cream sliding down his chin as he parted the lips with his tongue and ran it up and down. Virginia moaned and moved her feet farther apart as she started rocking against his face. She moved back and forth slowly, feeling his tongue poke inside of her; then it moved up and circled her swollen clit, and then slid back down. Greg tried to bend his neck back further, but it wasn't working. He moved back and heard her whimper. Quickly he reached over and pulled her chair over, grabbing her hips and turning her towards it. Virginia moved and bent down over the chair. "Perfect," he said. The lower position exposed her pussy to him completely. She moved her feet apart, and he slipped back up behind her legs and drove his tongue into her. He could feel her tightening around his tongue as he wiggled it inside of her. With his hands on her ass cheeks, he started pushing her forward, letting his tongue slide up between her lips until her clit was between his lips.He sucked it into his mouth, holding it tightly between his lips as his tongue flicked hard at it. Virginia moaned and pushed down, rubbing against his face, his nose rubbing against her opening and becoming covered with her cream. He released her clit and moved his head back, lapping at her juices as he pulled back. He licked her sweetness from his lips and admired his view once again. Her clit was now so swollen that it was poking out from between her lips. He looked down briefly at his cock and knew that she was right -- there wouldn't be a problem. Greg moved his finger up and slowly pressed the tip into her wet cunt. He circled her opening, teasing her. She moaned and pushed back, trying to drive his finger into her. He moved, not allowing her to do what she wanted, and that made her whimper. Her whimpers and moans were driving him insane. He'd never had a lover who was so vocal before, and he had to admit that it certainly added to the pleasure when you knew that you were definitely pleasing your partner. He pressed the tip of his finger in and felt her pussy automatically grab it. In one fast stroke he drove his finger into her cunt until it disappeared. Virginia groaned, her pussy holding his finger in so tight that he could barely pull it back out. Her pussy was incredibly wet and slick, and as he started pumping his finger in and out of her, he added another one and fucked her hard with the two of them. He moved his other hand around her thigh to her clit and rubbed it gently, smearing her cream all over it. She was moaning loudly, slamming her ass back against him as he upped his tempo and drove his fingers in faster, her clit sliding between his other fingers. Seeing her ass waving in front of him was just too much to ignore. He kissed and licked her cheeks as he wiggled her fingers inside of her. "Oh, God!" she screamed -- probably loud enough to alert anyone in the city that she was about to have an orgasm. "Greg... Greg... I'm going to cum!" The words had barely left her lips when she moved her feet together, clamping her thighs around his hand and squeezing. Her powerful thighs held his fingers deep inside of her cunt as she came. He could feel the tightness around his fingers, muscles contracting hard, pumping around his fingers before feeling a warm flood against them. He had never felt anything like it before and it was unbelievable. He nibbled at her cheeks until she finished, slowly releasing her grip on his fingers and moving her feet back apart. She was panting hard as she held onto her chair and tried to catch her breath. While she was doing that, he leaned in and lapped at her pussy, tasting what she had just offered him on his fingers. "My God," she whispered. Greg smiled and gave a long lick up her ass before standing up behind her. Virginia pushed herself up and leaned back against him, trying to steady her shaky legs. Greg wrapped his arms around her waist and leaned down to kiss her neck. She moved her hands back to his hips and ground herself back against his cock. "I want to make love to you, Virginia," he whispered in her ear. Her reply was scratching her long nails across his hips and a little whimper as she pushed herself back, grinding his cock into the small of her back. He unwrapped his arms and slowly turned her around to look into her passion-fired eyes. "Say yes," he whispered. "Yes." He took her hands and led her to the couch, kicking his overcoat off it. She was about to lie down on it when he stopped her, scooting in front of her and lying on his back, his knees bent as his feet pressed against the arm of the couch. He smiled and offered her his hand. Taking it, Virginia moved over and was about to get up on the couch and straddle his body when his hand moved to her hip and turned her around. He pulled her backwards and then down until she was lying on top of him, her back against his chest. She moved her legs to either side of his and felt the head of his cock rubbing against her ass. He wrapped his arms around her waist and slowly slid his hands up over her ribs to her breasts. Gently he squeezed them, her nipples hard against his palms as she shimmied down a little, his cock sliding between her pussy lips. As he massaged her breasts, he sucked on her earlobe, listening to her quick breathing. Virginia raised her hips and then shifted down a little more before pushing down. The head of Greg's cock pressed into her, stretching her as she pressed down harder. Greg raised his hips and pressed his knees up, driving his cock into her hard and listening to her moan. Her pussy was wet and tight and he savored the feeling of it surrounding his throbbing cock. But Virginia didn't want to savor anything, and she lowered her hands to his hips, digging her nails into his flesh and banging down on him. Together they started moving faster, his hips banging against her ass as his cock moved in and out of her cunt. He loved the feeling of her on top of him, feeling her body hard against his as his fingers started working on pulling at her nipples. He pulled back, pushing his ass deep into the couch cushion before ramming his hips forward and driving his cock so deep into her pussy that he could feel her lips against the base of his cock. Virginia moaned and pressed down, holding his cock inside her tight, enjoying the throbbing feeling as it lurched inside of her. She could feel Greg's breath against her neck, his heart beating hard against her back as he fucked her. She moved a hand to her pussy, running a finger between her swollen lips and rubbing it against her engorged clit. She stroked her clit with her thumb and stretched her fingers down, rubbing them against his wet cock as it slid in and out, the sounds of her wetness filling the room. "You feel so good," he moaned into her neck, pumping his hips up harder. Virginia moved her hands over his and pulled them off of her breasts, pushing them down to his sides. Leaning up, she reached for his legs, putting her hands behind his bent knees and pulling herself forward. Her body pressed down hard, impaling herself on his cock. They each moaned, holding the position for a moment. Virginia held his legs and pulled hers back until she was sitting up on her knees and Greg moved his legs up until his knees were completely bent. With his hands on her hips and her on his knees, she started moving slowly up and down. Greg leaned his head up, watching as her pussy swallowed his cock. He moved his hands up to her waist, holding onto her tightly, and pushed her up and brought her down hard. Virginia bounced up and down, her pussy taking his cock in completely and then holding it as she pulled herself up. They moved faster, each downward motion becoming harder and more powerful. Greg raised his hips as she moved down, and instead of moving back up again, she pressed down on him, grinding against him from side to side. A low moan escaped her throat as she tossed her head back and closed her eyes. Her body tensed, feeling the waves wash over her. Greg pulled himself up and wrapped his arms around her waist as she started to cum. Her pussy started to contract around his cock and he knew he wasn't far behind her. With his forehead pressed against her back, he felt her nails dig into his knees as her whole body shook hard and she let out a scream loud enough to wake the dead. Her pussy was crushing his cock, pressing around it as she started sliding forward and back, whimpering continuously. His arms tightened around her waist as he attempted to thrust back into her while she rocked hard against him. "Virginia!" he groaned, his strong arms holding her tight as his forehead banged against her back. For a second he stopped breathing, feeling the tightness in his balls before he tensed and then shook, cumming deep inside of her as she kept rocking on him. His cock jerked inside of her and he moaned against her back. Her skin felt hot against his forehead as he tried to catch his breath. "Greg?" she whispered between pants. "Yes, Baby?" "Could you loosen your grip? You're gonna snap me in half." He immediately unlocked his arms from around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder. "Sorry," he whispered. Virginia moved her legs out in front and leaned back against him, feeling his cock still inside of her. "Come back here," he said, pushing her forward until she slipped off his lap. She turned around and dropped herself into his outstretched arms. He pulled her down onto the couch and held her close. They lay there, looking at each other. Greg pushed her hair back from her face and smiled at her. "You're one hell of a woman, Virginia Wilder," he said, stroking her hair. There were so many things that he wanted to say, but he was afraid he'd scare her off. His fingers pushed back into the bow that was still stuck in her hair and he laughed. "That's gonna hurt when you pull it out," he whispered. "Then I guess it'll have to stay there until I shower, and I'll stand under the water until it falls out." She felt so relaxed, lying side by side, pressed firmly against him. Her hand rubbed his back as she gazed into his eyes. There were so many things she had never seen in them before, feelings that she didn't want to face; but she knew that she'd have to face them, and soon. There was no time to turn back, and the thought of that alone scared the hell out of her. For now she was just going to enjoy the afterglow of their lovemaking. She smiled; she had called it lovemaking and not sex, which meant she was in really big trouble. "What are you smiling for?" he asked. "I was just thinking that Francis Church was right." Greg reached down and pulled his overcoat up and over them. He snuggled against her. "When he said, 'Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus?' Is that what I've become to you, Virginia? A fat man without the red suit?A man who plays with elves and reindeer and only comes once a year, and his wife isn't even around for it?" Virginia looked at him with mild amusement. "I can't wait until your blood heads back up to your brain." He grinned. "Tell me what Mr. Church said that made you smile." "When he said, 'He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! How dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus!' He was right, because tonight I once again feel like I have some kind of belief in the season. A faith of sorts, I guess." She looked at him and laughed. "I'm sorry, I'm rambling; but it really does feel good to finally be able to tell someone about my pain, and to feel that they understand; maybe the awesome lovemaking didn't hurt either." Greg looked at her warmly. "He said something else that was equally true." "What's that?" "The next line: 'It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginias.' I, for one, cannot imagine my life with no Virginias in it." He pulled her close, pressing his lips against her forehead and feeling more than he had ever allowed himself to feel before. Maybe it was the scotch, or maybe it was the release of fantastic sex, but he didn't think it was either. "Virginia?" She looked up at him. "I know that in your proposal you stated that we were to... uhhh, what were those words? Oh, yeah, 'fuck like bunnies and afterwards we go our separate ways.' But I'd like to renegotiate that point, please." "Tell you what," she said, stretching, "we can discuss it over breakfast." He smiled down at her as church bells outside rang the midnight hour. Leaning down, he kissed her forehead as they listened to each bell chime, holding each other tight. She sighed, her head resting on his shoulder as she listened to him recite what would become her favorite part from the famous 1897 editorial. "Only faith, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, Virginia, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding." -END-

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/17741.txt

Lostgirl

Latin Night

"Hey! Look at you!" cried Zeke. I smiled a little as I turned to Tommy's friend. "You fixing to go out or something?" "Yeah, I'm going dancing, while y'all mess up my living room." I looked in and saw that Tommy had already laid out the flimsy paper map with a honeycomb grid. "War games tonight. Just you and Zeke, sweetie?" "Yep. Everyone's out of town during the semester break. Sure you don't want to stay and join us? Isn't it going to be hot there?" "No, you and Zeke have fun. The club will be less crowded, and I've learned to sweat gracefully. I'll see you later tonight, sweetie." I kissed Tommy on the top of his head and squeezed his shoulder. The big man mumbled something and patted my hand as he focused on the overflowing clipboard in his hand. As I stepped out of the house, I stumbled against the humidity, so heavy in contrast to the air-conditioned house. The mist rose up from the pavement, which was still wet from the evening rains. I felt the moisture bead up on my forehead. "Damn, I thought, this is going to be so flattering." I parked in the lot across from the club, actually an old house that had been converted into a nightclub. It has two small dance floors and several rooms with low couches and pillows - it is really a fun place. As I left my car, the man who is part pan-handler and part evangelist greeted me. His presence is actually a comfort, knowing the college town's crack houses are only a block or two away. I walked up the steps to the house, pulling my driver's license from a tiny purse. The bouncer was dressed in black, and it was clear he worked out, although the t-shirt hung loosely and he wore baggy pleated trousers. It was too hot to be a show-off tonight. It was still early, so I bought a soda and sat at a table. A few people waved, and I smiled back. They didn't beckon me over, and I didn't leave my table. They were speaking Spanish, and I haven't learned the language, although I suppose I should. I came to dance, and they knew that. I'm too old, too white, and too... different to completely belong here. I know, I know, I shouldn't think that way. These are college kids, but you won't see pierced noses or tattoos or combat boots on Latin Night. I don't know why not, but you won't. These kids are middle class and mainstream. A colleague from the department came over and talked with me for a while. He was being very gracious, and I appreciated that. We talked shop for a moment, and I let him go circulate. I went to the other side of the house to watch the dancers. I felt the music before I heard it, the insistent beat of a merengue. Merengue was the first Latin dance I learned - it's the first Latin dance anyone learns. It's a simple one-two, one-two beat, the trick is the hips. There were only a handful of couples on the floor, although the adjoining room had a few clusters of women dancing in circles. Some of the young women wore their little black dresses with the spaghetti straps and high-heeled shoes. Others wore little tank tops and miniskirts or tight-fitting bell bottoms. Later, I would see Dominique from dance class, with a filmy top tied at the waist and an equally filmy and flippy white miniskirt with a thong clearly visible. You have to admire that girl's audacity. As for myself, I had to compromise between audacity and sensibility. I wore a purple t-shirt dress that would have been a minidress on someone taller, but suited me fine. Its v-neck gave me enough cleavage for confidence, and that's about it. I wore flats - I wanted to last a little longer than three dances - and no stockings. I left my eyeglasses in the glove compartment, and my hair was restrained by nothing but an amazing concoction used to tame curls in this awful humidity. And under it all was a black lace bra and a thong. I couldn't help but feel a little aroused when the soft cotton of my dress slid across my bare hips and the thong shifted between my legs as I walked. I've learned it's that little sparkle in your eye that attracts men better than anything else. I leaned against the wall, watching people dance. This particular club has painted their walls in a dark undulating pattern I'm old enough to recognize as psychedelic. In the darkness, interrupted by the disco lights, it appears black, white, and brown. The shifting lights and moving bodies combined with the smell of smoke and heat, and I was immersed in a purely sensual experience. The smell of cloves was heavy, and it bit at my throat. The DJ played another merengue, and the men pulled the women close, leading them in tight, frantic circles before releasing their young beauties for a turn or two. I saw an arm stretched out before me and recognized my colleague in the darkness. I gave him my arm, and he led me to the dance floor. I joke that this is the only place I let someone else lead. That's more true than I'd like to admit. I rested my left arm over his, and he took hold of my right hand. We began our own merengue, my hips rocking in time with his. In spite of the erotic implications, we've always maintained the appropriate distance physically and emotionally. I felt my body awaken to the music, and I let him lead me through the turns. I've always considered myself clumsy, and it still startles me that I can dance now. Sweat ran down my back and down my face. I didn't care - that's what I was here for. In spite of myself, I felt a warmth build between my legs, and that was okay with me. The song ended, and I thanked my partner. The next song was a salsa, but to use the singular is misleading. This is not one basic step; there are many variations, and each man has his favorite. Salsa isn't a bad word for this dance - a lot of hot stuff chopped up and thrown together. I saw Terrell and asked him if he would dance. Terrell is a physical dancer, and if you don't match his burly style of salsa, he will drag you across the floor. As he turned me, my hand slipped across his slick arm, and I almost lost his grasp. He laughed and pulled me into a tight circle, his arm close against my back. Terrell let go, turned me a few times, and we continued dancing. By the time the next song began, I was pretty hot and sweaty and needed a little break. I found a chair and watched the dancers. Couples filled both rooms as the young men consumed enough liquid courage to ask the young women to dance. A few young men were very good, moving gracefully with compact, lean bodies. Their hair was cut very short as a defense against the heat. A couple almost reminded me of the young flyboys from a local air base back home, who would come to clubs when I had been an undergraduate. Their partners were equally graceful and pretty, since a man who dances well will surely attract attention. I couldn't help but notice the girls' slender legs, shaped by months or years of dancing. I looked on with a bit of envy at these beautiful young women, particularly as they turned the floor with such confident partners. I noticed a group of black girls dancing together on one side of the room. They moved in a different style to the fast, heavy beat than that of the Latin dancers. One young woman in particular expressed the erotic rhythms in her own compelling way, arching her supple back. I watched a young man teach his blonde girlfriend how to salsa. I eventually lost focus of the details, and it all ran together - the bodies moving, black, white, and brown. A young woman with a pretty face, wearing a wrap skirt and a short top that showed her belly, walked onto the dance floor with a young man. As he put his hand on her back, she pulled herself to him, pressing her hips against his. Her hips moved in time with the music against his thigh, and when he looked down at her, she smiled. The young man led her into a turn, and as the girl moved, she turned slowly, keeping her hips touching him. He then led her into a 'basket' where she faced away from him, their arms wrapped around her, her pelvis swaying and rubbing the front of his pants. I watched this rhythmic seduction, unable to turn away. Terrell, exhausted, collapsed beside me. He leaned over to speak into my ear. "What's up, you're looking like a zombie or something." I turned to speak into his ear over the loud music. "I'm watching them, can't help it." Terrell looked up to see the young couple intertwined. He smiled and leaned back to my ear. "Hoo yeah, they're gettin' jiggy with it!""Why don't you go home to your old man and do something about it?" "I should, but he's still gaming... I just need to be distracted." "Allow me, then. May I have this dance?" So once again, Terrell was leading me across the dance floor, and I was focused on keeping up with him. He made a few funny faces and even led me into a triple-step swing, which is seen mostly in country and western bars. I laughed. As we danced, I became drenched with sweat, my hands slipping in Terrell's, and it became too difficult for him to turn me in his vigorous style. Terrell was tired too, the humidity was simply too much. Soon he just pulled me against him, and we rocked back and forth on the dance floor. I was intensely aware of his hand on my lower back, and the heat returned between my legs as his hips pressed against mine. Terrell brought my right hand up to rest on his shoulder and then my left. The heat turned to an ache as his hands returned to my waist. He squeezed me for a moment, and I closed my eyes. A part of me wanted to beg him to move his hands lower, and I could feel every brush of his leg between my thighs. I was no longer aware of the music except for the driving beat which resonated between our bodies. I no longer smelled the smoke, but I could smell Terrell, the sweat and something which I guessed to be desire. All I could see was my hand resting against his shoulder, while the sweat glistened on his neck -- black, white, and brown. I was lost to my senses and to the man in whose arms I stood. And the music ended. The next song brought a mild outcry, and I heard the word 'Lame!' bounce from the crowd. I was a bit startled and backed away from Terrell. I noticed immediately that Terrell didn't stop me. The air felt cool on the places where Terrell's body had been. It took me a moment to look Terrell in the face, and even then, he didn't meet my gaze right away. "I'm going to get something to drink, you want anything?" He finally managed. "Uh no, I think I'd better be getting home, the smoke is getting to me." "Yeah, it gets to me too." "Well, um, thanks for the dance." "Listen, Dr. Kruger, I mean, Meg..." "It's okay, Terrell... it was nice." "It's cool then?" "It's cool." I smiled up at the young man, touching him on the shoulder. The air felt much fresher outside than in the crowded club, and my head cleared somewhat. When I stepped into my car, however, a sense of loss came over me. I turned on the radio and found the Spanish station. I wanted the noise, the beat, not the silence of my car. When I arrived home, I was disappointed to see Zeke's pickup in the driveway, even though I knew it was still early for them. Even before I opened the front door, I could hear Metallica playing. It wasn't fair, but this was exactly what I didn't want. "Hey honey, you're home early. Woooeee! You look like a drowned rat! Told you it was going to be hot." "Yeah, I must look a mess. I'm really tired, I'm just going to shower and go to bed. Could you turn down the music a little?" I could hear my voice getting sharp and felt guilty. Goddamit, why did I feel guilty? "Sure thing. You're sure you're okay?" "Yeah, I just need to rest." I went straight to the upstairs bathroom and turned on the water. I kicked off my shoes and pulled the damp cotton dress over my head. I watched myself in the mirror as I reached behind and unhooked my bra. The flesh was red where the straps dug into my shoulders. I tried to slide the thong off my hips, yanking at it as it stuck to my sweaty skin. I stepped into the shower, letting out a tired breath. I just stood and let the hot water run over me. I picked up the soap and began to lather up, beginning with my tired ankles. I tried to use slow strokes to bring back the aroused feeling, but something was wrong. Midway through the shower, I tried again by slipping my finger between my legs, but it wasn't right, I was forcing it. At least shampooing my hair felt somewhat soothing. I got out and toweled myself off, wrapping the big damp towel around me. I was relieved to turn off the bright lights of the bathroom as I went to bed. When I entered the bedroom, I walked over to the small collection of CDs and found some Latin music. I had bought it for practicing between classes. I went back to the queen-size bed I shared with Tommy and put the CD in my portable player, so that I could use the headphones. I hit the play button and once again I felt the beat. I unwrapped the towel and lied back on the bed in the dark. I let myself relax and tried to remember Terrell's familiar hands. This time, they slid down to my ass, and squeezed them, rubbing them possessively. I imagined I lifted a leg and wrapped it around him, pulling myself onto him more tightly. My nipples hardened in the cool air-conditioned room, and I took them between my thumb and fingers, rolling them, pinching them, and evoking that familiar tension. My pussy began to ache, and I spread my legs. I believed that the ache pulsated to the beat of the music. I slipped my fingers of one hand between the folds of my pussy and found my clit. I rubbed it directly in small circles. I then dipped a finger farther down and found that I was wet. I brought some of the juices up to my clit. As I rubbed, the little bud would slip under my finger, teasing me and causing the aching to build. I thought back to the young man as we danced and he pressed my body into his. I imagined grinding my hips into his and feeling his erection. I wanted to slip my hand down and rub his young cock, while he slipped his hands between my legs and feel my arousal. My pussy ached, and I pressed my feet into the bed, squeezing my pelvis. My breathing became heavy, and I could feel my face get flushed. I couldn't distinguish my pulse from the throbbing beat of the music. I imagined Terrell taking me there on the dance floor with impatient thrusts as I ground my fingers against my sensitive clit. I felt the orgasm spread from my clit until a light sweat broke on my forehead. My head fell back on the pillow. The music suddenly seemed very loud, and I took off the headphones. I was still breathing heavily and felt that drowsy feeling. I woke again when Tommy came to bed. "Mmmm... you smell good. I see you used Uncle Tommy's never-fail insomnia remedy." "Huh?... oh ... mmm-masturbation, you mean?" Tommy had his hand between my legs, coating his fingers with my juices. "Dreaming of me I hope?" "Huh? Uh... well..." I didn't know what to say, Tommy and I have tried to be honest with each other. "Mmmm," Tommy said as he ducked his head under the covers, "An extra-curricular fantasy?" "Well, maybe..." "That's a relief," Tommy said, muffled by the quilt, "Wouldn't want to be the only one in the house with those. Why don't you tell me about it, while I'm under here, eh?" I would have jumped as Tommy took my clit in his mouth, but he grabbed my hips and held me steady. "Ummm," I said as my voice trembled with arousal, "As you know, I wore the purple dress tonight..."

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/13533.txt

Bob Cashman

Batgirl 25-Years Later Part 2

"Please...please breathe...please dear God...breathe," she prayed as she tried for a fifth and sixth time to breathe life into her husband. Suddenly he sputtered, then gasped and coughed, as he started to breathe. "Honey...get up...I...I can't carry you out of here. Don't have the strength," said Barbara, as she rose to her feet and tried to help her husband up. She was watching her husband so intently she hadn't noticed Garth approach on the steps. As she struggled to help her husband, who was still having difficulty breathing, back to his feet, she was thrown against the outer wall of the enclosure with so much force from behind that it knocked the wind out of her. WHAM!! as she crumpled against the wall and fell to her knees. "You think you can get rid of me that easily, Batbitch?" Garth screamed. "Take this," as he began banging her head against the wall almost at will. Barbara's hands tried to grasp Garth as he pummeled her, reaching vainly for something to grab, until he finally stopped, and she fell face down onto the platform. She could hear her husband moaning next to her as she turned her head to see his body next to hers. She could feel the life draining out of her. She had failed her family as she began to choke on the acrid smoke. Then she saw Garth bend down and begin to choke her husband, still in shock from his ordeal. "NO!" she cried, as she summoned the last ounces of strength she had, and brought up a foot in a quick move, causing Garth's legs to fall out from under him. He tumbled two or three stairs down. Barbara got to her feet to meet her attacker. "Come on Garth. It's me you want. Not my family. It's about me, Batgirl. Well come on, forgot about him," she challenged, motioning to her husband, "and come get me," she said, putting her arms on her hips in the familiar Batgirl pose of years past, her torn shirt revealing an exposed breast that was heaving up and down. "Honey, get Crissa and get out of here. Don't wait for me. I've got to fight this guy or we'll all die. Your job is to protect Crissa now, honey. Go!!!" she gasped and pleaded to her husband. Her husband slowly made his way to the bottom of the stairs, coughing violently from the smoke as Garth, who had moved to the bottom lest her husband try anything, snarled at him as he walked past him. "Ugh...ughh..." Barbara could barely breathe as Garth bounded up the stairs. She knew he would try and pummel her quickly with his strength, which she hoped to use against him, judo style, but the smoke was getting to her, and she knew she had only moments to live, unless she got out of the basement hellfire she was trapped in. Garth feigned a punch as Barbara ducked and tried to push him into the open door and into the quicksand. He had anticipated her move and grabbed her by the pant loops, bringing her to him in a kiss. "My pretty. Do we die together, or do you die alone?" he laughed, as he released her from his kiss with a vicious knee to the groin. She blocked the groin kick, but Barbara was so spent she barely had the energy now to stand. Garth struck her with a fist to her stomach and she doubled over. As she struggled to catch her breath, he kicked her in the ribs and she doubled over, her body poised at the entrance to her plastic coffin. "Bye, Batgirl. It's been fun, but you really must be going," smiled Garth, as he pushed her body off the entryway and into the sand. "No!!!!" was all Barbara could scream, as she felt her body go over the edge, her eyes wide with terror and the certainty she had lost and was about to die. She grasped for something, anything as her body hung suspended by both arms, her eyes looking up at her executioner in horror. She fell, but as she did, she managed to catch the side of the platform at the entrance of the container. Barbara lay hanging over the side, her feet and body dangling over the deadly quicksand. She could feel her strength going. It would only be moments before she released her grip and slid to her certain death. "NO!! Anything!!! Please...I will do anything..." she begged. "I win...you lose, Barbara Gordon. Now, I've got to go kill your husband and daughter for good," he said, as he turned to go. Barbara used her last ounce of energy to grab Garth's foot with one hand, then the next. She knew there was now no way out. She didn't have the strength left to pull herself up. Her chest pain was unbelievable and her strength was spent. She simply relaxed and let her weight do the rest, as she looked into Garth's eyes as he turned his head. "What??? NO.....NO!!! You bitch...you'll kill yourself..." Garth screamed, as he tried in vain to grab anything, as he began to fall backwards. Barbara held on, until both were encased in the quicksand, of which more was still being added. It was very hot as both of them struggled to find a way out. Barbara knew with the plastic walls there was no way out but death, as she fell down under the quicksand and it enveloped her. She gave a last gasp as she relaxed and succumbed to death, certain her husband and daughter were safe, and her secret was safe with them as the fire and quicksand consumed her, Garth and his henchmen. THE END

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/17535.txt

Bernadette

FRESH PRODUCE

"Ma'am, are you okay?" Nora looked up from the cold, linoleum floor where she lay blinded by the bright fluorescent lights. For a brief instant, she thought she had died and gone to heaven. "May I help you? Do you need medical assistance?" As her vision began to focus, Nora realized she was staring directly into the biggest pair of dark blue eyes she had ever seen. His gentle face was encased by ringlets of jet-black hair. The Angel Gabriel had come to bring her to heaven and she was -- lying flat on her "ass." "I think I need mouth-to-mouth resuscitation!" she murmured. He smiled and extended a slightly muscular arm to help her to her feet. The entire back of her dress was drenched with chocolate milk. "What happened?" he asked. She could feel her face becoming beet-red. This was surely the most embarrassing moment of her life, but Thank Heavens she wasn't going to be on "Candid Camera." She hoped. "Can't be for certain. One never knows why one falls. I am known to be a klutz." Nora suddenly wished he would just vanish and leave her in peace during her moment of pathetic self-pity and humiliation. "Hey, guess there's no use crying over spilled milk!" he replied. His response didn't help at all. It just increased her desire to cry. "Um... that was pretty lame, sorry. Look, are you sure you're okay? Perhaps we should call the manager and fill out a form or something...you could file a lawsuit if you're hurt." "No, no, I am fine -- really. The only thing bruised here is my ego." She refrained from making any negative comments about the degree to which her well-padded, but shapely derriere had cushioned the fall. Now it was his turn not to laugh. "Well," she said, "Welcome to Cliché City! Now we're even. One-to-one. Tit-for-Tat." "Yeah, like meeting in a grocery store isn't the most cliché place of all. This is getting so corny I am going to introduce myself. Hi. I am Henley." "Hi, Henley, I am Nora. Nice to meet you." "Nice to meet you, Nora. Can I treat you to another carton of chocolate milk?" "I feel like a complete idiot. A well-educated, mature woman drinking chocolate milk," Nora blushed. "Hey, I drink it too. Man, I still eat Pop Tarts." He glowed at the thought. Henley had dimples the size of half-dollars. "Pop Tarts! I used to love the chocolate ones with the marshmallow centers," Nora laughed. "Not as much as I adored Captain Crunch cereal," Henley added. Nora's brown eyes lit up like sparklers. "I ate that every morning for ten years." She paused. "No wonder my growth was stunted." It had occurred to her that Henley was towering above her. She was at least a foot shorter. He must have been 6'2", maybe more. She felt like Sprout next to the Jolly Green Giant. This reminded her: she needed some French cut green beans. "Wanna go grocery shopping, Madame?" he confidently asked. "There is a God," Nora replied. "Pardon me?" Henley looked confused. "Nothing...I'd love to go shopping with you, Sir. If you don't mind being seen with a woman with a chocolate-covered butt." Henley laughed. A good hearty, fiber-enriched laugh. "Not at all -- my pleasure." They began to stroll down Aisle Five, their carts side by side. "Soup." Nora stopped. "Soup, uh, soup is good. Soup is good for you." "Yes, that is what they say. Hmmm. I think I'll stick to basic tomato," Nora said. "You say ta-may-toe, I say ta-mai-toe," Henley sang off-key under his breath. Aisle Six beckoned. "Fruit." Henley stopped. "Canned fruit." "Yes, canned fruit is good," Nora added, "I like peaches. Pineapples, I can deal with pineapples too. I like the ones shaped like little rings." "Peaches and cream," Henley chimed in, "that would be heavenly...used to stick my tongue through the hole." "I beg your pardon?" Nora's eyes were wider than ever. "The pineapple rings, you never did that as a kid?" "No, we just used them as life preservers for our Barbie dolls. So, Henley, do you live around here?" "Ah, the BIG question. And I wanted to ask you first. Yes, I do. As a matter of fact, I do. Live right down the road at the St. Tammany Apartments." "NO WAY!" she exclaimed. "Way." "I live there - so you can't possibly." "Why? Is the St. Tammany too small for the both of us?" "Too much chocolate milk in one place. Maybe we should lay off of it." Henley laughed again. Nora surmised that his choosy mother had chosen Jif, by the depth of his dimples. He looked around forty -- give or take a couple of years. He could have been reading her mind. "How old are you Nora, if you don't mind me asking." "Fifty-four!" Nora exclaimed. "You're fifty-four? Wow. You look fabulous. I am hitting the chocolate milk again tomorrow." Nora giggled. "No silly, I meant the peas are only fifty-four cents a can. Not bad." "No, not bad for a can of peas. Ever notice that frozen peas always look a funny shade of green?" "I'm thirty-eight." "Years of age or thirty-eight cents a can?" He winked at her. "Very funny. Don't let me forget the coffee." "Yes, Ma'am." Henley stopped and grabbed a bag of rice. "I'm thirty-nine." "Wow. Marvelous. Someone my own age," Nora mused as she picked up a box of saltines and tossed it into her basket. "Like you said, there is a God." Henley groaned as one of his grocery cart wheels suddenly stiffened, forcing him to delicately negotiate the turn into Aisle Seven. "I really hate it when that happens," Nora remarked. Henley suppressed the urge to complain about the absence of lubrication. "Fresh Produce!" Henley exclaimed as though it were a truly novel concept. "These red grapes look fabulous! Look how ripe and succulent." "HEY MISSY! Don't be using words like "RIPE" and "SUCCULENT" around me or I'll be squeezing the "CANTELOUPES" next!" Henley began to juggle three russet potatoes in the air. Nora was trying to feign an interest in the bananas as she watched him out of the corner of her eye. He was so handsome, so friendly and so spontaneously funny. "You look pretty fascinated by those bananas there. Looking for a REAL big one?" "Henley, are you trying to flirt with me?" Nora batted her eyes, ever-so-subtly. Or perhaps ever-so-evidently. "Yes, I believe I am. It's not every day you meet a beautiful, brown-eyed brunette with a chocolate covered butt -- a nice butt, I might add." "Thank you." It was a royal flush. "You are beautiful." Henley dropped all three of the russet potatoes on the ground. His expression turned serious and dream-like as they stared into one another's eyes. Nora felt as frozen as the vegetables in Aisle Ten. With the speed of a dribble of Heinz Ketchup slowly emerging from a bottle in a TV commercial, Henley reached over and kissed Nora briefly but passionately on the lips. Her ice cream was beginning to melt. Any minute now it would be turning to liquid and start seeping out of the edges of her box. "Let's get out of here," he whispered in her ear. Nora's common sense was telling her that leaving with Henley might not be the most sensible idea in the world. But a rush of adventure had came over her. Grocery store fever. "Okay," she said seductively. A little too seductively, she thought. Henley took her hand and led her down Aisle Eight. "Where are we going?" Nora asked. "Wanna live life, really live it?" "Yes, I always have -- what?" "Tired of feeling trapped in the same environment, of living in the Saint Tammany Apartments, your mundane job, shopping for chocolate milk and tomato soup and overripe bananas?" "Yes, yes!" Nora was becoming another person. "C'mon!" He led her to the back of the store. The Meat Department. He pushed the swinging doors open to the butcher shop. No one was back there. It was very cold and raw meat was hanging everywhere. Henley led her through another door. "How do you know your way around here? Do this often?" Nora asked, her pulse rate flying. "Worked here as a teenager through high school. There is the stock room." He pulled her into the room and shut the door. It was dark. Henley immediately began to kiss her, deeply and sensually. Nora let go and allowed her passion to take over. It was scary, sexy, adventurous, and dangerous. She knocked over a couple of boxes of Cracker Jacks as Henley began to unbutton the front of her dress. He kissed her neck and ran his tongue slowly down to her breasts.Nora could feel herself wanting more from him as he ran his hand under her skirt and into her panties. Their breathing became faster and heavier. Nora was running her hands through Henley's mass of curls as their lips locked in an inseparable embrace. Before she knew it, she was on the floor, amongst cartons of chocolate chip cookies and boxes of gingersnaps. Nora's dress fell to the cement floor, as she lay in her matching black panties and bra in front of Henley's hungry eyes. The thought that someone might walk in and catch them any minute made her as creamy as a Twinkie. "Lick me like the middle of an Oreo," she cooed. "Baby, I will eat the best part first and save the rest for last," Henley replied as he pulled down her lace panties and ran his hand between her wet thighs. His fingers easily slid from her buttocks to her vagina, where his fingers nestled deep inside her love hole. She moaned in ecstasy, then spread her legs as wide as she possibly could, almost hoping someone would walk in and watch - in all her glory. "Oh Nora," Henley mumbled as he gently massaged her anus with one hand and rubbed her clitoris with the other. "Henley, oh God, that feels wonderful," she exclaimed in pleasant surprise. "Not as wonderful as it smells," he began to use his tongue to dip into the exotic pudding that filled her pastry. He pumped her vagina with his fingers, her juices flowing as he drank and sucked her round, hard almond in a sensual frenzy. "You taste like heaven." Nora gasped and shuddered, as she climaxed in his mouth – dripping -- like ice cream on a hot summer day. He relished in it, the icing to his cake. Once her convulsions subsided, her face became glazed over with a sultry look, as she frantically unzipped Henley's pants and freed his tortured, hard member. "Hot dog!" She giggled and teased him with her soft touch. He raised his body to her beautiful face, touching her cheeks lightly with his Oscar Mayer Wiener. Nora took his penis into her open, full mouth like a popsicle. She sucked him hard and ran her tongue along his needy shaft, until he was begging for mercy and his hot, hearty soup came out like an open floodgate, filling her mouth as it dribbled everywhere else too. They kissed passionately, tasting each other's delights as though it had been catered just for them. Click! They could see the lights under the doorway. "Hello?" a deep, older voice asked. "Anybody in there?" Henley put his hand over Nora's mouth. She could feel her heart beating against her chest as she tried not to breathe. "Hello? Hello?" After a minute, they could hear the intruder's footsteps moving away. Close call. They began to giggle. Their moment was gone. Like adolescents they hastily dressed, sneaked out, back to the safety of their grocery carts. Minutes later, Henley helped Nora put her groceries into the trunk of her car. The wind was cool that night, blowing a breeze through her long, brown hair. The back of her dress had become stiff where the milk had dried. "Henley?" Nora said. "Yes?" "What happened in there, I just don't know if it was right. I got carried away and . . . 'All's well that ends well.'" He looked deep into her eyes. "Nora, I thought you wanted it." "Yes, I mean, no. "What? You can't say it wasn't good." "I'm not saying it wasn't good, I am just saying . . . Hell, I just met you! You're a complete stranger. I need time to get to know you. I like you, and I want to do this right." "It's okay. I guess I got carried away too," Henley replied. "Can we start over?" "Sure," Henley said. "Sure. You are absolutely right. I like you too and I want this to be more than just . . ." "Sex?" Nora filled in the blank. "Yeah, but you are sexy, you know. Little Miss Cantaloupes." "Okay, Henley, enough. Ask me to dinner. No more stock room sex, at least not tonight." "No stock room sex. I promise. It's a deal." He began to rummage through her shopping bag. "What are you doing?" she asked. Henley pulled out her new carton of chocolate milk and let it fall to the ground. Chocolate splattered all over his clean khaki pants. "We are starting from the beginning, Miss." "No use crying," Nora said, standing in the puddle. "No use crying," he repeated. "Hi, I'm Nora." She reached out her hand. "Hi, I'm Henley." He lightly kissed it. "Nice to meet you," Nora said. "Very nice to meet you." They looked into each other's eyes and smiled. Then, Nora and Henley burst out laughing. "That was a good one, Honey," Nora giggled. "The stock room? Did you really work in the stock room?" Henley laughed. "Why yes, I did, Honey! I thought it was rather exciting! "But you didn't have to go and spill the milk!" "Sweetheart, you didn't have to spill it AGAIN!" Nora chimed as she got into the passenger's side of their car. Henley took the keys and got into the driver's side. They drove off into the moonlight, covered in chocolate milk, holding hands, and smiling. As their car pulled away from the parking lot, they could hear an announcement on the supermarket's intercom system. "Clean up on Aisle Two."

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/16573.txt

Ms. Christine

Corporate Backlash - The Corporation - Part Three

"Sir, would you mind if I sit on your desk to take the dictation?" She paused, and as Jack gave no immediate response, in fact, he looked quite lost for words, she continued. "My employer, I mean my previous employer, always preferred me to sit on the desk, and I have become quite uncomfortable taking dictation any other way." She smiled sweetly at him and waited for his response. To say Jack was stunned would be an understatement, but he recovered enough of his cool to say, "Of course not." His mind was racing now. He had always had to threaten and cajole the other girls to get what he wanted, and now Alice seemed to be making everything easy for him. It was a new situation for him, and he was, for the first time in a long time, uncertain of his next move. Before he could even begin to think clearly about the situation, Alice sashayed right around his desk, hiked her tight skirt up a little, and perched herself right in front of him. She crossed one leg over the other, stocking rasped gently against stocking, and settled with a contented little sigh. Jack just stared at the triangle of stocking top she had now exposed in this maneuver. "What would be even more comfortable would be if I could just rest one foot on your leg. If you don't feel that would disturb your concentration?" And then, as an afterthought, "Oh, silly me. I don't even know if you like to walk around while you dictate." Jack was completely thrown - he muttered, "No, no, that is perfectly alright." The next moment, the beautiful stiletto shoe was placed on the top part of his thigh, and Alice said, "I am ready now, Sir, shall we begin?" Jack cleared his throat, as if ready to speak, but nothing would come out. Alice started wriggling her foot around in his lap, and she gave him one of her smiles as she realized he was becoming erect. His hand moved slowly to caress the shapely leg in front of him. She did not stop him. He began to get back into his stride again as he allowed himself to relax into this new situation. His prick was throbbing, and he was getting excited much quicker than he had ever done before. Alice continued to move her foot rhythmically as Jack continued to lose control. His hand was just starting to move up her leg as he realized that if he did not stop her, he was going to come. Too late, though. He spurted powerfully into his underpants and let out a throaty groan. Alice giggled and said, "Oh, I am so sorry! I think you have just had a little accident. I'll come back later when you feel more composed." And with that, she slid down from his desk, picking up her handbag as she went and wiggled her way out of his office, only pausing for a second to say, "I'll be just outside if you want me." "WANT HER!" he thought as the door closed. "WANT HER! Of course I want her, the little minx!"

Part Three

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/15999.txt

MrSpraycan

Mysterious Bride Of Christ

"I shall spank every girl in this class. Every single one of you, unless I hear a full confession from whoever was responsible for this disgusting offense," Sister Rose tells the cowering girls. They stare back wide-eyed. It's a mixture of fear, defiance, anger, and shame she's seeing. The nun is a notorious sadist, and they don't doubt for a minute that she will inflict such a punishment on them all if someone does not admit the deed soon. Sister Rose is in her thirties and seems very old to the sixteen-year-olds. Unlike many of the others here, she's Irish, with a warm brogue, but a fearsome manner when crossed. Tall and big-boned, with short, reddish hair, ruddy cheeks. When she ventures into town, men stare. They find her attractive, but of course know that they must not harbor such thoughts. She's very angry today. Who could it have been? Who has been responsible for placing a pair of fragrant, wet cotton knickers in the parcel of offerings to the Cardinal, before his pilgrimage to Rome? Labeled "Put your sticky finger in here, instead of up boys' arses, you old bugger," and signed: "The Fuckslut Bride Of Christ/Randy Wendy The Cunty-Drawed Shagger." Not Wendy. There isn't one in the class, never has been. Oh, they are standard issue school uniform knickers. From Marks and Sparks, St. Margaret's plainest and cheapest. Even the size didn't help -- most of the girls in 3F are of similar build. Even the large Mary could not be ruled out: she could have stolen someone else's and messed them up, after all. The telltale laundry tags have been snipped off, and all that Sister Rose and the other investigators have to go on is the evidence of the slightly worn knickers themselves. With their failing elastic and a dingy tone. A yellowish stain at the crotch, and a distinctive scent. Sister Rose has contemplated borrowing a police dog and matching girls and smells. But has decided not to go that way at first. Whatever little slut it was would probably delight in this, and the humiliation it would bring all the others, as a lolling-tongued dog nosed them intimately. No, she resolves, if all else fails we'll resort to that, or some other scientific method. But first, we'll try the proven technique of the paddle, cane, and tawse. "Miss, I mean Sister, it wasn't me," says Pam, the class 'good girl,' par excellence. "Who was it then?" "I don't know." "But Pamela, you know everything. Maybe a few strokes will remind you. Step forward, girl." The thought of seeing such a good girl punished makes the others nervous. Now they harbor no doubts that Sister Rose would spank them all if she must. "Hold out your hands," Sister Rose commands. Pam stretches them both out, palms upward. The tawse is picked up. The room is silent but for Pam's labored, open-mouthed breathing. Down it comes, hard, three times on each hand. Pam gasps. "Turn them over," she is ordered. A wooden ruler is brandished. Five strokes across the knuckles of each hand. Loud blows the echo round the room. Several girls look faint, there are gasps of sympathy. But Sister Rose hasn't finished. "Now, bend over, young woman." Pam lifts her skirt, bends over the chair that has been placed in front of her. Sister Rose picks up her leather paddle. She grasps the fabric of Pam's knickers and pulls them down to her knees. Her white buttocks seem huge, vulnerable, mysterious, appealing, in the brightly sunlit classroom. Outside, a game of hockey is underway, birds are singing. Here, a girl is going to be spanked, hard. The blows seem as loud as pistol shots. Not just six. No, a dozen strokes before Sister Rose relents. There are tears in her eyes when she stands up afterwards and hobbles away. "Sister, it was Cecilia. I know it!" says Sandra, a sneaky girl, a refugee from the North. "You lying bitch!" Cecilia shrieks, leaping forward. Others hold them apart as they spit and bristle at each other, mouthing insults. "Quiet, the pair of you!" Sister Rose shouts. "Cecilia, is this true?" "No!" "Really? Step forward and bend over. We'll see, shall we?" Another vicious paddling. Sneaky Sandra is next, to everyone's satisfaction, and Cecilia's particular delight. There are twelve girls left. One by one, they are brutally paddled. Now, Sister Rose has a plan. Each is asked to remove her knickers before the paddling. And the knickers are labeled and hung on hooks on the class noticeboard. "Who has a good sense of smell?" Sister Rose asks the tearful group. No volunteers. She motions to Pam, who is sniffling the least by now. She produces the offending 'Bride' knickers and says: "Smell these, and then sniff all of these drawers and see if you can identify the owner." It's done, though Pam would make a poor bloodhound. She lacks the leg-humping enthusiasm a dog would put into this. And she's quite indecisive. "I...I don't know. Please, I really don't. It's disgusting. It could be any of them, really. Just a couple seem more likely, but, oh, I can't say for sure." "That's good enough for me, Pam. Which?" "Well," she hesitates. "This pair, and this one here. Oh, and these are very smelly." Sister Rose snorts as she reads the labels. "Sandra, Jane and haha, your own, Pam." There's widespread relief, a couple of angry protests, and giggles of laughter at Pam's shriek of disbelief. "Step forward, you three. We'll investigate a little more, shall we?" The trio nervously cluster together. "Skirts off. Bare from the waist down, girls." The display of chubby thighs, round bottoms, flat stomachs, and tiny pubic triangles is delightful. But Sister Rose tries not to show her secret enjoyment of it. "I need another volunteer." No one wants to play along now. Sister Rose points to the wrongfully accused Cecilia. "You, then. Sniff these dirty knickers. Deep breath. Come on, so you can almost taste it. It's not that unfamiliar to you, is it? Now, you three, legs apart, hands on your heads. Down on your knees, Cecilia, and tell us who it is, girl." Cecilia shakes her head miserably. "I can't tell, really can't," she says after sniffing each girl two or three times. "Liar. We'll take the tawse to your backside for that, girl. Lift your skirt." And she does, not even letting Cecilia up from her knees. Then she picks on another pupil, Diane, and says, "Right. You sniff the ones on the board and we'll pick out some more possible girls, then." The afternoon passes slowly. But, step by step, Sister Rose is seeking a consensus. Taking notes. Observing the girls' behavior for clues. For evidence of sexual misconduct for later use. For signs of lesbian tendencies. She is a wily one, Sister Rose. Who has seduced countless pupils over the years. Right now, she's without a love interest, but she will address that little problem soon. Today, she's aching to punish and humiliate, another pleasure she takes very seriously. The endless sampling and sniffing continues. And eventually it's done. There are four candidates now, with far more votes: Pam, Cecilia, Diane, and Sandra. Girls whose penance calendars are going to be busy from now on this term, whatever the outcome here. Girls with dirty knickers are always the first to suffer. Sister Rose announces: "If I don't hear a confession now, I'm going to have to be much stricter." There's nervousness, whispering. Each of the suspect girls has had at least two dozen strokes already. "Meaning, you'll all be soundly beaten, you four." "Please, Sister, it wasn't me," Pam pleads. "None of us!" Cecilia says, sobbing. "How do you know? Unless you know who it really was, and you're protecting her?" Sister Rose mocks. They fall silent. Sister Rose nods, pursing her lips. "Very well. Out of your clothes, all of you. Every stitch. It's the strap for you, and then the senior cane." "No!" A communal moan of disbelief. "Yes. This was a filthy blasphemy. What if these filthy clothes had made the pilgrimage, been presented with other offerings to our Holy Father? Can you imagine the shame that would descend on our school?" She glares at them. "We would have burned you at the stake in the seventeenth century, you know." "We wouldn't have had knickers to wear then," someone murmurs. "Who was that? Ah, you, Amy. Well then, step up here too, and strip off your clothes as well." The girl with the smart mouth is regretting it already. "Someone, confess, please!" Pam pleads. "It wasn't me! It wasn't!""Yes, for your soul, for your friends, be honest," Sandra joins in. "I understand it must have seemed funny, but..." "What will you do to the girl when you find her?" Amy asks nervously. "Take her to the Mother Superior and recommend that she is given a suitable penance. One to remember." Silence. "Thirty days of prayer. Fasting during daylight. Loss of clothing privileges. Confinement to a penance cell with no bed, just a blanket on the floor. Regular cold showers. And probably a daily birching. Not so bad really," Sister Rose recites. "Of course, Mother Superior may be more lenient." She smiles thinly. "If it were me, I'd add a vigorous caning by her classmates for being a disgrace to them all, and for bringing them all such pain." Some nod at this. There's a long silence. Sister Rose examines the strap thoughtfully. She's contemplating whether to summon help; her arm is a little tired. Then, Hillary raises her hand nervously. "It was me." A small, dark-haired girl. The class mouse, in many ways. Good at geography and math, terrible at languages. Bottom of the class in Gaelic. Resentful of many school rules. Oh, how had they failed to guess? It was so obvious. The other girls recoil from her, as if she has leprosy. Sister Rose dashes forward, seizes her wrist, slaps her face hard, several times. Then grabs at her hair. She shakes her hard. "You vile girl," she shrills. "It was just a joke. I'm sorry, I'm sorry," the girl pleads. "A joke? I'll show you a joke! Strip, you bitch. Get out of my sight, the rest of you. Go take a shower you three, you stink." The girls jostle to leave the room, pulling their clothes on as they go. Sister Rose tells Hillary, as she slithers out of her uniform: "Oh, I'm going to show you what happens to dirty, dirty girls. You'll get the punishment of a lifetime. Trust me." Hillary is taken to Mother Superior's office. Her nude body already marked with several vicious welts. Thighs, breasts, buttocks. Sister Rose has dragged her here, lashing her with the heavy strap. Girls in the corridors averted their eyes in shock at the sight of a naked girl being roughly hauled along. It's not a regular event, and it's best not to know about these things. The saintly old woman listens with barely controlled anger to Sister Rose's story, and Hillary's tearful confession. She prays for a minute or two, then says quietly: "Lock her away. We'll decide later." Back at the classroom, the girls are in turmoil. Who'd have guessed? While the idea of caning Hillary has appeal to one or two of the more vindictive ones, they've been shouted down. Most are sad to see her found out. She's an unhappy girl, a strange one. Maybe if they'd been friendlier, known her better, it wouldn't have happened. They agree to send a delegation to plead for mercy. They're kept waiting for a half hour. Then ushered in to the Mother Superior's bleak room. She listens silently to their pleas, and carefully phrased, circumspect comments about how brutal Sister Rose has been to the whole class. Finally, she speaks: "Yes, children. I understand your concern. There have been excesses here, and overzealous punishments. But this was an evil, wicked crime. I think, on balance that Sister Rose was diligent in her investigation. Ingenious, even. I regret that she shamed some of you. And for that, I will ask that she apologizes to you individually, and begs your forgiveness. But remember it is better to shame the body, and hurt the flesh, than to suffer evil to dwell in a young woman's heart. And as for young Hillary, I fear that expulsion from the school will suffice." After they leave, grateful for this display of clemency, Mother Superior smiles quietly to herself. She has Hillary's record folder on her desk now. Divorced parents. Of course. Father, an oil exploration type. Working for some American company in Azerbaijan. And the mother? At Citibank in Singapore. Remarried to some heathen Chinese. Well, they won't interfere with us. Oh, we'll expel her alright, she thinks. In three weeks or so, at the end of the month. At midnight. But we'll clean up her locker and pack her things today. They'll think she's gone already, without a goodbye. But until then, she can be punished, as she deserves. The way Sister Rose has pleaded for, so eloquently. The birching sounds a good place to begin. Head to toe, until she's raw. If she faints, we'll revive her with an icy cold bath and carry on. She must suffer. There's no two ways about it. And we'll birch her more than once, oh yes. And we'll use some of the novitiates to cane her. They're older and stronger than her classmates. First though, I want to know she has suffered a little. Suffer in those parts where her devilry originates. We'll singe and pluck the hair from that filthy slit of hers. Shave it as smooth as a baby girl's. We'll scourge and scrub and scour and mistreat it. With hot wax, pins and pliers. And she'll get the bridal initiation she deserves. If she's a virgin now --which I doubt -- she won't be by the end of today. No. She is possessed by some demon, so we'll exorcise it. She's been Satan's bride, and that's what made her commit this blasphemy. It's simple science. She summons Sister Rose. "I have given this great thought, Rose dear. The matter of Hillary, that is." "Yes, Mother?" "You are right. She must be purified. And it won't be easy. Take her to the cellars, and do what you must. Severity is called for. The various things you recommend here," she points to the folder. "Spare her nothing."

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/9164.txt

PJ

Servant of Nagash

"What do we do now?" asked Tom nervously. "Find a way home," replied Amy. "How?" inquired Gwen. "Let's find some real powerful wizard-dude. They always know how to fix things," suggested Mark. "That's actually a good idea," said Amy as she dug a small pit, then created a small fire with her magic. Everyone gathered around the small blaze, warming themselves as a cold breeze swept over the plains. "Where's the closest archmage?" asked Tom as he held his hands before the fire. "The closest human settlements are in the north, within the Border Princes' lands. We should ride north as soon as we can," recommended Amy. "Hold the phone. Can't we check out some of the ruins that John said were around here? I bet we could find lots of gold and other cool stuff," said Mark enthusiastically. "Staying here is dangerous, Mark. This region is heavily patrolled by undead creatures that serve the Supreme Lord of the Undead, Nagash. John himself appeared to be a necromancer in Nagash's service. We should leave immediately," urged Amy. "This place looks safe for now. Let's get some rest and head out in the morning," suggested Tom with a yawn. "I'm for that."The trip took a lot out of me," said Mark before he retrieved a bedroll from his docile horse, unrolled it, then quickly slid inside and fell deeply asleep. Tom prepared his own bedroll happily while Gwen shrugged helplessly at Amy, then moved to copy her boyfriend. Sighing with frustration, Amy took a blanket from one of her saddlebags, then hunched over the fire with her blanket across her shoulders as she stood guard over the camp. Soon, Mark's loud snores assaulted Amy's ears, forcing her to grit her teeth in displeasure. Hours passed, and slowly, Amy's eyes grew heavy, then closed without conscious effort. The red-haired girl fell into a deep sleep, her body going limp and sliding silently onto its back. With a start, Amy appeared in a blood-red void, swirling clouds and energy waves crashing around her as she floated in a sea of open space with no solid objects in sight. "Beautiful, isn't it?" asked a smug, cold voice behind the young woman. Spinning around to face the speaker, Amy gasped faintly as John hovered before her. "Welcome to the Astral Plane. The realm of magic, the realm of Chaos." "Magic and Chaos are mutually exclusive," retorted Amy with a frown. "They are more intertwined than you would like to believe," said John with a feral grin. "But we can discuss magical theory another time. I'm here to give you a choice: agree to serve Chaos and its avatar, Nagash, or die horribly after being raped and violated by the Undead Lord's hungry minions. Trust me, you don't want to fall under their tender attentions." "It couldn't be any worse than suffering under your attentions," spat Amy. "I refuse." "I'm disappointed with your attitude, but it wasn't completely unexpected. You always were a cold, little bitch. Perhaps I'll warm you up a little," replied John as his eyes turned burning red and sharp, serpent-shaped fangs slid from his upper jaw. Outstretching his arms, John sprouted long, slimy tentacles that shot forward and wrapped around Amy's wrists and ankles. Struggling ineffectually, the red-haired mage girl tried to summon her power to break the evil necromancer's hold, but nothing happened. "Stupid slut," laughed John as he slid closer to his helpless prey. "I control this realm, only I can alter it to reflect my will." Shuddering with revulsion, Amy screamed with rage as John's tentacle limbs ripped off her mental robes, exposing her slim, creamy, white body. Drooling with hunger and lust, John sprung more tentacles that wrapped around Amy's round breasts and squeezed them tightly. Little fanged mouths appeared at the end of each tentacle, licking and biting Amy's tender flesh, then sucking wetly on her pink nipples. The naked girl moaned as a phallic-shaped tentacle hovered before her red-haired bush, dripping greenish ichor before it sprang forward and slid into her warm cunt. Amy groaned in shame and helplessness as the cock-limb pushed deeply into her wet vagina, exploring her womanhood with wanton eagerness. "You may have a cold mind, but your body is having fun," whispered John huskily before he leaned forward to lick her left tit, then slide his long, saliva-dripping tongue across her left shoulder to her slim neck, then up her chin and across her parted, full, red lips. "Fuck you," groaned Amy before she closed her eyes with loathing. "I'd rather fuck you, my little whore," smiled John just as he pressed his mouth across Amy's and forced his long, forked tongue deep inside her small throat. Amy gagged and moaned with horror, but her body grew warm with uncontrollable arousal, her nipples grew hard and erect, while her crotch began to burn and clench around the cock-member pumping in and out of her slit. John spun the bound girl around so that her back and shapely ass faced him. He pulled Amy's head back by her long, red hair, then crushed her tits with both of his clawed hands as he pushed his bulging cock back inside of her pussy, then wrapped her naked body in slime-drenched tentacles. Amy shivered at the cold touch of the limbs as they caressed and coated her warm, tender flesh. She moaned weakly as John grabbed her by the hips and pulled her ass against his cock, thrusting it deeper into her tight fuckhole. Amy panted for air, her average-sized breasts heaving while her attacker held her arms behind her back and pumped her cunt with his tool, plunging deep inside of her belly. The naked girl's feet dangled helplessly in the air of Astral Space as she was pressed firmly against the now scaly body of the dark mage John. He hissed with pleasure as he licked the sweet flesh of her back, caressing her smooth, firm ass with his claws, drawing thin trails of blood across her white skin. With a jerk, Amy moaned, then moaned louder as she felt a powerful orgasm explode in her pussy and gush out, covering John's engorged cock with warm honey from her womb. Pushing into Amy's belly until he smacked her g-spot, John hugged the beautiful girl to his gnarled, dry-skinned body until he came inside of her, filling her warm void with a flood of his seed. Amy gasped for breath as another orgasm assaulted her, making her limbs weak and slack as sweat covered her naked body and dripped from her fiery, red hair. "I knew that you had the body of a whore," gloated John as he released the naked girl to float aimlessly in the sea of empty space. "And now, you know too. What will the logical mage do now?" Laughing harshly, John floated farther and farther away from the limp mage girl. As the evil wizard's cruel mirth faded away, Amy shuddered in her real body, then snapped her eyes open in alarm. Gazing around to find her companions still peacefully asleep, Amy drew her slim legs close her stomach, then lowered her sweaty head to her knees and shook with silent, painful sobs. "Where are the sheep that you brought with you?" rumbled the deep voice of Nagash. "Nearby. I thought that you would like to play with them a little before slaying them for their blood," replied John respectfully as he knelt before Nagash's throne of bones. "You know me well, slave. Yes, let us play with them first," agreed Nagash before he hissed with malicious laughter. Chapter 3 The sun rose slowly over the World's Edge Mountains, bathing the grassy plain in warm, orange illumination. Mark, Tom, and Gwen slowly awakened, groaning with back pain and sore muscles. The party broke camp, then mounted their horses and began riding north. Amy was silent and pale, not even speaking to Gwen when she asked what the problem was. Tense quiet fell over the group as they galloped through patches of short, brown grass with the mountains looming to their right. The day passed uneventfully, until the riders discovered a tall, looming tower of black rock directly in their path. Turning west to avoid the ominous structure, the companions rode carefully until they reached the edges of a sprawling, decayed city. Humans and Elves walked submissively through the garbage-choked streets, carrying heavy burdens or travelling furtively on unknown business as the dark tower watched over them. "This must be the fortress of Morgheim," whispered Amy emotionlessly. "Who rules it?" asked Tom with apprehension. "Nagash and his undead," replied the mage girl. "Shouldn't we get the hell out of here?" asked Mark uneasily. "It should be okay as long as we don't draw attention to ourselves," replied Amy. Flicking the reins of her steed, Amy led the way into the oppressive city, staring straight ahead as she passed street walkers dressed in rags with thin, starved bodies. Gwen bit her lower lip in fear and pity, trying to avoid the blank, despair-filled eyes of the undead city's inhabitants. Eventually, the party found an inn not far from the edge of town, the Bones' Rest. Settling the horses within a filthy, badly-built stable, the companions walked across a small, cobblestone courtyard to the door of the inn. Stepping inside to escape the descending chill of nightfall, the adventurers grimaced at the smell of vomit, urine, and stale beer that permeated the establishment. "Smells like my gym locker," frowned Mark. Amy walked over to a short bar where a fat, greasy man dressed in a soiled apron watched over the few patrons in the common room. Renting four rooms on the second floor, the mage girl gave each of the companions a rusty, iron key, then quickly ascended the loud staircase without another word. "What's up with her?" asked Mark as the three remaining travellers stood at the foot of the staircase. "Maybe it's that time of the month," replied Tom with a snicker. "That's not very nice, Tom," rebuked Gwen with a sharp glare. "Oops. Sorry, Gwen," apologized the cleric before he began climbing the stairs to his room. "Stay with me tonight," suggested Mark. "Well, I guess it would be better than sleeping in a cold, dark room by myself," pondered Gwen softly. "Sure it would, beautiful. Let's go!" declared the black-garbed thief as he took the Elf girl's slim arm and led her to the second floor. Finding the door number that matched their key, Mark jiggled the key within the unkempt lock until it clicked open. Entering quickly, Mark struggled within the dark as Gwen looked around with no problem at all. "There's a candle on the table to your left," said the Elf girl as she closed the door behind her and twisted the lock shut. "I can't see a fucking thing," complained Mark before he slammed his right knee into the foot of the bed. "Son of a bitch!" Gwen giggled softly as she watched Mark discover the table and fumble in his beltpouch for flint.Striking a spark, the thief lit the stubby candle, then set it back down on the small table's surface. A dirt-encrusted window was totally opaque to the outside, while a small chest sat on the right-hand wall. A bed was set next to the far wall, positioned so the foot faced the doorway. "Now this is a classy setup," said Mark as he sat heavily on the straw mattress and began pulling off his boots. Gwen moved to the right side of the room, sitting lightly on the ripped sheets before beginning to undress. Mark slid underneath the sheets completely naked, then watched as the lovely Elf girl removed her chainmail vest, thigh armor, and knee-length, heeled, leather boots. Dressed in a white, lace bra and panties, the blonde-haired Elf pulled the thin sheet over her slim, pale-skinned body and stared blankly at the rotting ceiling. "I've never slept with an Elf girl before," said Mark as he lay on his left side and watched his attractive companion. "Don't forget to blow the candle out," replied Gwen. Distracted for the moment, Mark turned around to lean forward and blow out the small light, then he rolled back to stare at the rise and fall of Gwen's round breasts illuminated by weak beams of light from below. "Come on, Gwen. We're on a weird planet out of 'Night of the Living Dead', you've got to help me get through it," moaned Mark as he lightly traced a finger up Gwen's flat stomach. "Think about pizza or beer," suggested Gwen before she rolled away from the thief, warding him away with her back. "Fucking bitch!" spat Mark as he grabbed Gwen's right shoulder and forced her onto her back. "When I say that we have sex, we have sex!" "Get off of me!" screamed the Elf girl as Mark pulled the sheet away, then ripped off her bra with his right hand. "Shut up, whore!" yelled Mark before he slapped Gwen hard across the face. The blonde-haired Elf girl continued to struggle in the human's grip until he slapped her repeatedly, then punched her in the stomach. Gasping for air, Gwen was helpless as Mark ripped off a section of sheet and used it to tie her small wrists to the headpost of the bed. Grinning sadistically, Mark ran his hands over Gwen's heaving, firm breasts, then bent down to suck noisily on them, leaving trails of saliva on her smooth, creamy flesh. The Elf girl moaned softly as the thief bit her sensitive nipples, then licked the pink dots until they grew hard with arousal. As he filled his drooling mouth with the bound girl's warm breasts, the thief reached down with his left hand to grope her blonde-haired pussy. Sliding his rough hand over her warm crotch, Mark caressed the Elf girl's delicate labia, then rubbed his fingers between the fleshy folds of her vagina. Gwen moaned with pleasure and frustration, struggling weakly against the tight, cloth restraints that held her wrists together. Licking between the prone girl's round breasts, Mark briefly kissed the Elf on her moist, red lips, caressing her tongue and throat with his pink probe. Rubbing and fondling Gwen's smooth, white skin, Mark made little kisses along the girl's stomach and thighs, making her flinch with each brush of his cool lips. Reaching the helpless Elf's crotch, Mark sniffed her rich, musky scent, then licked across the flesh of her inner thighs. Groaning with her eyes shut, Gwen felt a wetness build in her vagina, her skin growing flush and hot as her body responded to the stimuli of her overpowering lover. Mark nuzzled inside Gwen's moist pussy, gorging on the naked girl's juices and throbbing flesh while he held her legs apart with his hands. He licked up and down her vagina, devouring her honey as it trickled out with increasing frequency. The bound Elf girl's moans filled the room, her breasts rising and falling like bellows as her limbs grew taut with growing excitement. Licking her red lips thirstily, Gwen groaned loudly as an orgasm filled her womb, causing a stream of warm liquid to flow out into Mark's eager mouth. As the aroused man licked and sucked on her slit like a starving animal, the Elf girl jerked as another orgasm slammed into her brain, then another. Gwen's arms and legs twitched uncontrollably as wave after wave of sexual ecstasy filled her slim body, bursting forth in a flood of hot cream. The Elf girl's thighs, stomach, and ass were covered in her sweet, glistening juices which Mark did his best to lick off every inch of her flushed, panting body. Feeling his cock stiff and full to bursting, Mark crawled on top of Gwen's sweat-covered body and rubbed his tool across the gasping Elf girl's mouth. Pre-cum coated Gwen's full lips as Mark thrust his penis into her open mouth, then pushed relentlessly down her throat until his member filled her oral cavity. Gagging with her eyes wide open, Gwen moaned weakly as Mark pumped in and out of her mouth, fucking her tight, grasping lips with his meat until he shot his load. Thick, sticky cum fell like rain across Gwen's cheeks, nose, and chin. Grunting with release and pleasure, Mark smiled in satisfaction as he gazed at his naked, sweaty, cum-dripping fucktoy. Gwen restrained a desperate sob as Mark slid off of her violated body, then rolled onto his side to get some sleep. Alone and cold within the malicious darkness, Gwen rolled away from Mark and curled up into a fetal ball with her hands tied limply above her head, her body shaking with helpless agony as she cried herself to sleep. "The wraith lord will pay well for this," muttered the innkeeper with satisfaction as he de-activated the recording orb, then replayed the rape scene between Mark and Gwen as he grabbed his erect cock and jerked himself off.

Chapter 2

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/14981.txt

Andrew Roller

FUCK DECENCY 362 Passions Playpen

"Very good," Maria said. She touched a finger to Kate's throat and briefly kissed her lips, as if to reward her for a job well done. Then she reached back and untied the ribbon that held Kate's hair in a ponytail. "You have lovely hair," Maria complimented the girl. She fanned it out on her hands and then fluffed Kate's hair so that Kate felt like a pretty doll being prepared for a wedding. Still wearing her blouse, whose tail was fashionably short so that it didn't cover an inch of her bottom, with her vest tightly around her body but hiding nothing, Kate was walked to a corner and faced into it. "You must not watch us undress, dear," Maria said simply. Behind her, Kate heard a shucking off of clothing. Even as she heard this, she was shocked to hear the doorbell ring, and more guests arrive. She bit her lip and trembled as, facing the wall, she heard these new guests welcomed with soft hellos and told to undress. This was so sinful! Yet, with her hands and arms so tightly bound behind her, showing off her nude white bottom as if it were a trophy, Kate knew she could do nothing. She bowed her head in an attempt at modesty. Maybe they would spare her if she looked properly contrite, she reasoned. And then she remembered the men. In particular, her boyfriend. Kate could only imagine what her lover must look like now that he had a chance to remove his sometimes uncomfortable clothing. She stood waiting, with her cheeks huddling into her, her hands resting on their plump surfaces. She could feel the cold steel of the handcuffs around her wrists pressing hard into the soft whiteness of her bottom. With cuffs also restraining and binding her elbows, she was made to stand very straight. She wondered, as she stood there listening to them undress, tasting the bra that had been stuffed into her mouth, whether she would experience other feelings upon her bottom this night, and whether it would be so white in the morning. A light, almost airy touch on her shoulders. Maria turned Kate around to face the guests. There were almost twice as many now. For a moment Kate was startled. The men, who had been so decent and reserved before, now rudely offered her their bare penises. Several stood with their hands on their hips and Kate blushed as she saw how trim their hips were and how trim and sleek and muscled their bodies. In the midst of each pair of male hips, where the bush lay and where a girl would have offered nothing, stood up a very stiff pestle of flesh. It made no bones about its purpose. It throbbed with a life of its own and Kate was forced to stare at each of the pee holes on each of the men's penises. Was she a toilet? Kate gulped at the thought. What only a urinal usually saw, a big cockhead with its pee slit presented, she was now seeing. Staring at, for she couldn't take her eyes off the sight of so many male penises clustered around her, showing interest in her, a girl of only 19 with her hands cuffed so neatly behind her back. While Kate blushed, the other females, who had shown such an interest in her earlier, hung back this time, letting the males be closest to her. The girls nibbled diffidently at aperitifs. One filled glasses with punch. Kate felt suddenly thirsty and wanted to ask for a cup of punch but she was afraid she would be given wine again instead, and forced to get drunk. Instinctively Kate looked for her lover. But Mark was gone. Maria noticed her darting eyes and softly stroked her bare shoulder. "Your lover has been given the girl of his pick and sent upstairs," Maria explained. "So that you will be forced to rely on us. Now you cannot rely on him for guidance or comfort, but only on us." A distinct cracking sound came suddenly to all their ears and they looked up. Leather on bare flesh. It was unmistakable. A female cry was heard, and a woman with a glass of punch in her hand giggled, spurting out a little punch from her lips, though she tried to catch it with her hand. It hit her friend on the breast and since her friend had undressed she was hit directly by the punch, and it speckled her skin. The woman who'd lost herself in giggles bent forward and licked up the punch that decorated her companion's bare bosom. "Tch. He is being hard on her," Maria said, looking up at the ceiling as another scream broke from above. Maria bared her teeth a little as she spoke, as if plotting vengeance. Her grip on Kate's frail shoulder tightened. Kate felt her bosoms wobble on her chest. She wanted to shrink and run away before these partygoers. Her eyes were big in her face and her body was quite waifish and small, except for her large heavy breasts and her legs which looked very long because they were so slim. She felt frail and she gasped as a female, stepping up to a table with a lamp on it, set her drink down on top of the table and opened its single drawer. Dipping her hand within, the female drew out a riding crop. It was short and businesslike, with a tough hard handle. At its tip was an oversized loop, made of leather. Kate wondered if the big loop was made that way to appeal to the eyes of children. It reminded her of children's heads, how they often appeared larger than their bodies, giving them the look of little bobbing-headed darlings. Now the crop, with its childish, loopy head, was brought by the female who'd drawn it out up to Maria. The dark-haired woman, naked now except for her bouffant hairdo, accepted the crop. Still holding Kate, she whisked it briskly through the air. Kate watched wide-eyed as it whistled past her bosoms, with their fine-tipped points, and past her tummy which seemed to have sunk within her, showing off her ribs as if she were an animal about to be broasted and eaten. The men, uncontrollably hard and breathtakingly long, drew back a little, lest Maria bobbitize one of their penises with her new toy. Screams permeated the ceiling above, as a slow cracking of leather worked itself upon some poor helpless female bottom. Kate felt she could hardly breathe. Butterflies flew in her soft, small indrawn tummy. Her legs trembled. She realized she was way in over her head. No wonder her parents had disapproved of her dating an older man! No college boy could have gotten her into something this deep, she reckoned. The wildest frat party was always somewhat silly in the end, with drunken boys dancing around vomiting puke or challenging each other to pee on passersby from an upstairs window. This was quite different. Here, the men seemed not the least drunk, but Kate was staring at their penises nonetheless, and they seemed much harder than frat boy's penises, almost implacable, like policemen enforcing the law. The law of Nature? No, Kate gasped to herself, for whips and riding crops and such things were hardly what missionaries would approve of, despite their accord with the missionary position. Here was where people played who were outside the ambit of God, or what He and her parents approved of. These were not mere boys on a lark. These were men with real jobs and real responsibilities who'd chosen (yes, chosen!) to get together and strip naked and play wicked, decadent games. And the women were no better. By day they might be models, or private secretaries, or even businesswomen, but now they were stripped of all but their lovely hairdos and eyeing the crop in Maria's hand as if it were something more than just an implement for encouraging horses. Kate imagined that women like these would, by day, scold men for complimenting them on their busts (or perhaps even their dresses) but now they stood with perky nipples waiting and hoping for attention from men.A few cupped the balls of their lovers encouragingly, from behind, still softly sipping their drinks as they weighed the hot, swimming sperm sacks that hung so acutely. Fingers drew themselves along the freely displayed male organs, sizing them up, finding them especially hard and daunting. The men remained with their eyes fixed on Kate. "He has my wife upstairs," the closest male said as a new scream broke from above. "Let me be the one to punish her." The man spoke to Maria. He was the least attractive one present, Kate thought, with a face like a boxer who'd boxed too long, and a knotted, muscled body, like someone who works out but does it badly, without the sleek, tall, well-formed look that Kate so much admired. His cock, though big, resembled a sausage more than a cucumber. Everything about him spoke of meanness, of deprivation and revenge. Maria fixed her crop between two fingers, balancing it there with her fingertips free so that she could use her hand for other purposes, while still holding the crop, holding it like one might hold a cigarette. She reached up to Kate's chin and pulled it down. "I must take out your bra, dear. You might choke on it or swallow the end of it," Maria said. She pulled the stringy, lacy fabric from Kate's mouth and Kate sighed. But no sooner was her mouth unplugged than a woman, circling around almost unnoticed, set down her drink and whipped a gag quickly around Kate's mouth.

Chapter One

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/9792.txt

Christine Stevenson

Fit for Anything

"Can I please get dressed now?" he whispered. Ignoring him, I turned to Nurse Crisp and gave her the details of Nigel's first exercise session - to commence immediately. She was to take him to the exercise room, dress him in a rubber slimming suit, and supervise a one-hour session on the rowing machine, after which he could have a light lunch of lemon juice, salad, and dry slimming biscuits. When I was sure that Nurse Crisp understood the regime I had decided upon for Nigel, I turned back to see that he was standing with his hands over his genitals. "Nurse, a gown for Nigel, we wouldn't want him to catch cold." Nurse Crisp picked up Nigel's clothes and left the room. We always confiscate their clothes to ensure no lapse in the dietary regulation. Otherwise, some of the patients would be sneaking out for snacks. I returned to my desk and checked the file of the next patient while we waited for Nurse Crisp to return. She was an unconscionably long time, perhaps we were again short of freshly laundered gowns. Nigel seemed ill at ease, subdued even, apparently concentrating on something at his feet as I surveyed him once again. Nigel eagerly took the garment when Nurse Crisp eventually returned, and quickly slipped it on. I stood and tied the ribbons at the back as he was having some difficulty with them. "Send in the next client on your way through, thank you Nurse." They left, Nigel following Nurse Crisp, like an obedient little puppy. I was adjusting an errant seam on my stocking and checking the suspender fastening when I discovered the next overweight executive standing, gawking, in the doorway. "Ah... Bernard, isn't it? Come in and strip!"

Part three

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/17325.txt

Submission Agenda 31

"I'm curious, Mrs. Richards. The last time anyone saw you, you were the devoted wife of the world's leading scientific mind, plus an established super heroine. Now I face you as you represent one of the globe's most corrupt, evil organizations. I can't help but be curious." The setting was a small, candlelit, almost intimate dinner for two in the chambers of the Black Queen deep within the New York headquarters of the Hellfire Club. Malice, one of my darkest angels of desire, had chosen to entertain the organization's biggest sponsor and biggest user. "Mr. Gideon, I would prefer you address me as 'Black Queen' or 'Malice'... Susan Richards ceased to exist some weeks ago. I am her darker, more powerful self. It is only fitting that I should run the more... interesting aspects of the Hellfire Club's organization." Gregory Gideon regarded his dinner date carefully. There was no doubt that this was the Invisible Woman, Susan Richards. But he could tell that there was something different about her. He'd battled the Fantastic Four in the past, and there was a new air of malevolence about her. Her deep blue eyes accentuated a powerful sensuality, a sexual confidence that only the Black Queen could possess. She had dressed to please him - a figure-hugging black dress that emphasized her curves and displayed ample amounts of cleavage, her nipples apparent through the thin black material of the outfit. Her very appearance worked to arouse him, to want him to take her. "My apologies, Black Queen. My vast fortune has helped the Hellfire Club through a great many crises," noted Gideon dryly. "In that time, I have arranged something of an understanding with the Inner Circle... a mutually beneficial understanding." I could sense the triumph in Malice's mind as she studied Gideon's face. Tall, powerfully built and quite bald, he radiated authority. He was used to getting his way. Most women find such a combination a powerful attracting factor, but I could see that my angel merely wanted to use him to carry out my whims. She truly is a remarkable creature. "An understanding that sees the Hellfire Club spending your money carte blanche, in exchange for open access to the sex slaves my predecessor trained," observed Malice coldly. Gideon smiled. "Her whores were exceptional, Black Queen," affirmed Gideon, grinning slyly. "But Selene and I had an arrangement I would dearly like to continue with her replacement. Your predecessor knew that the Hellfire Club required a small amount of male slaves... and all boys need firm... male... guidance. Selene's rewards for my efforts were both personal and... stimulating." Of course, Malice had known all of this before arranging this rendezvous. Her orders from me had been explicit - to bring her son into our fold, to recruit his raw, mutant power into our organization - one of the final additions to the powerbase. After reviewing some of the videotapes of Selene and Gideon's performances, she had a plan. Now with Gideon hopelessly infatuated with her, it would be a simple matter to carry it out. "I have seen what you and Selene have done in the past. It intrigues me. I have a particularly interesting male for us to... enjoy. I have no doubts that the personal rewards I can give you will be... first class." Malice's brow furrowed slightly through concentration as her invisible force fields penetrated Gideon's clothing, bringing about a sudden, strangled gasp from the billionaire financier. The once Invisible Woman licked her lips seductively as her powers brought Gideon instantly to erection, swirling currents of her cosmic-spawned powers rushing around his sensitive genitals, teasing the head relentlessly, caressing his shaft and gently manipulating his testicles. She felt an incredible sense of satisfaction as another field expertly played with his sensitive anal ring, sending his hips out of control, bucking against the underside of the table, Malice staring into his eyes as the cutlery was sent flying from the table. "Do you want me to stop, Mr. Gideon?" she cooed, running her finger along the exposed curve of her breast. "N-no!" he gasped loudly, his eyes locked onto her exposed tit-flesh, his desire for her escalating exponentially. "Do you have doubts about the rewards I can give you?" she asked softly, knowing that he was approaching orgasm rapidly. "God no!" he cried. "Y-you're... incredible!" Malice smiled at the compliment, teasing him ever closer to the final release, slowing down as she felt the muscles in his cock near their spastic state, where control was lost and his cum would flow freely. She wanted her imprinting to be perfect and delayed the inevitable. "Will you 'train' my boy, Mr. Gideon?" she asked, leaning forwards, bunching her breasts together, allowing her drool to escape her mouth, knowing it would land on her ample flesh, knowing the effect it would have. "Anything for you, Black Queen!" he screeched, eyes locked on the wet spot on her breasts, his mind desperately wanting to reach out and touch them, to maul them, to suck them, to fuck them until they were coated with puddles of his cream. "Look at me, Gideon. Look at my eyes," the irresistible Invisible Woman commanded. It was torture for the world's richest man to break his attention from the twin globes of Malice's perfect breasts, but the order pierced his very soul as his body was wracked with an ecstasy that he had never felt before. His mind raced with the possibilities. This woman gave him more pleasure than he could have ever imagined... and she wasn't even touching him! How would it feel to take her, to feel her against him as his cock claimed her body? He finally met her gaze. "Look at my eyes," she had commanded again and now he was lost in them, forever. "I want you to see my eyes as you come." His prick felt as though ten... no twenty tongues were teasing his more sensitive areas. He knew he could not resist and he did not want to. The throb built quickly in his tortured penis, his balls almost felt as though they were being squeezed when Malice finally uttered the phrase that would forever haunt his destiny. "Come for me, Mr. Gideon. Come for your mistress." "MISTRESS!" *** The commands from his mistress were still something of a puzzle to Gideon as he unlocked the door behind which his prey waited. Franklin Richards... he could scarcely believe that his own mother was going to be behind the acts which awaited the young boy. It didn't matter to him though. All that concerned him was the reward that awaited him, the prospect of his flesh moving against hers, his pleasures multiplied as the most succulent example of womanhood he had ever encountered was unwrapped before his eyes, her naked form presented to him for his enjoyment. His mind was still raw from the sheer power of the orgasmic release Malice had pulled from him. He could still see her eyes, a mixture of raw pleasure, malevolence and satisfaction as he had come for her. The sperm had almost literally been torn from his balls as he had surged under her invisible ministrations... and yet he knew the pleasure to be a mere hint of what was to come. The room inside was dark, lit only by the cathode rays of a vast monitor set into the wall at the chamber's end. Silently he entered the room, noting the frenzied movements coming from the high-backed chair directly in front of the screen. He smelled the air, the definite musk of male ejaculate heavy in the atmosphere. "Guess he's been quite busy," Gideon surmised, grinning to himself. His face was a mask of appreciation as he watched the screen. A naked man was tied down into a sumptuous leather chair - he was in his early forties, Gideon judged, his features contorted with desire as the X-Man Psylocke slowly stripped in front of him, peeling away her negligee to reveal her massive, pendulous breasts, nipples alive with arousal. Gideon heard a moan of appreciation from the chair in front of him. Franklin Richards was masturbating, pulling himself off to the image of Betsy Braddock. He felt the stirrings of lust deep within himself as he watched the beautiful purple-haired woman completely disrobe before dropping to her knees, crawling towards the bound man. "Suck me, Betsy!" he pleaded. "I need it!"Gideon crept up behind the high-backed chair, looking down to see the newly adolescent Franklin Richards feverishly jerking away as he watched Psylocke's plump lips slowly engulf the man's penis, her eyes closed in pleasure, her cheeks concave as she sucked... and sucked hard. I watched the entire scene in my astral form, knowing the importance of Richards' recruitment into our fold. However, I too was enraptured by the scene on the screen, Psylocke using her tremendous oral skills to nip, lick, and suck her client to the most incredible climax he had ever experienced. It was quite a marvel to behold. I remembered how she had used those skills on me, how she had debased herself totally while pleasuring me with an intensity that only the Enchantress could match. I could have made her into one of my most devastating dark angels, a woman whose command of the arts of love would have made any man hers. Instead, I had made her into a whore, a woman whose sole objective in life is to use those gifts for the paid pleasure of man. Any man. And yet it had to be done. Everyone had their place in the plan. The screen was filled with Psylocke's face, the erect cock bobbing in front of her as her tongue shot out to bathe the head with her saliva, before teasing the underside, her hand jerking rapidly as his hips thrust his cock clumsily between her pouting lips. "I'm so close, Betsy!" Gideon did a double take. It wasn't the man being pleasured who had shouted this, it was Franklin. I wasn't too surprised. To date, Franklin's entire sexual education had come from this screen. Peering into his mind, I could see that the days of constant video feeds such as this one had instigated the desired effect on the boy's confused mind. He had witnessed man after man taking advantage of the Hellfire Club whores, fucking them senseless in every conceivable way. In his mind now was the solid association that women pleasured men and men used women. Now when he watched the screen, it was him being serviced, his prick being tongue-bathed, his cock sinking deeply into the whore's cunt... or asshole. All he needed was a woman and some encouragement, and he would be recruited with ease. Thinking about it, I could see Malice's point of view in getting Gideon to provide that encouragement - just about the only woman on the planet who could confuse him now was his own mother. "Yes, Betsy, YES!" the man screamed as Psylocke rubbed her lips over the underside of his glans, sighing as white cream shot from the slit, coating her lips, cheeks, shooting up her nostrils. "God YES!" Franklin screamed, Gideon looking down to see him spraying with abandon, arcs of his cum shooting onto his chest and neck, not caring where his sperm flew, just enraptured in the moment of release. The boy's libido barely dropped. I could sense that the lad was as horny as ever; certainly his prick remained locked into erection, the jerking continuing as he watched Betsy lick the man's prick affectionately before rubbing his cream into her face, then sucking her fingers clean. I could sense that Selene had also affected his body chemistry, enhancing the hormones that controlled his libido... a further part of his conditioning. "I have been sent to collect you," began Gideon. Franklin turned around suddenly, ashamed at being caught not only naked but with his engorged penis in his hands. He looked around desperately for his pants. "Don't worry, boy... my mistress has judged you ready. You are to be mated." "Mated?" Franklin asked, his face betraying his concern. "Yes. We have selected females to pleasure you. I am to be your guide. To be sure that you properly... use... them." The boy gulped loudly before rising to collect his clothes. I could sense some fear about him, but the true motivational factor was desire. Every time he masturbated, the frustration was building within him. A parade of beauty on screen had tortured him, with only his hand able to give him relief and even then, it wasn't good enough, the lusts had simply returned with a biting edge of sexual frustration that was driving him over the edge. I began to pity the girls that Malice had chosen for him. Gideon took him into a room... an oak-paneled chamber that Franklin recognized immediately. This was where moments ago he had seen Psylocke orally pleasure her client. He saw the leather chair in the center of the room, the ropes discarded on the ground next to it. The air was still ripe with the smell of sex, the lingering perfume of Betsy's scent. I could sense Franklin's heart begin to pound within his chest, his cock leaping to attention as the realization sank in that he was going to finally be able to perform the acts he had borne witness to so frequently over the last few days. His mouth grew dry with the anxiety. In preparation, he dropped the bundle of clothes that had covered his nudity and afforded himself a smile. His immature mind was the slave of the adolescent urges that Selene had brought from him, his mind and body were on fire. He grunted in need as Gideon brought in his first woman. Her face was covered in a leather mask, long auburn hair escaping from the bottom of it. Franklin found himself concentrating on her body, clothed as it was in a leather bustier that accentuated her tits, a small leather thong protecting her cunt. Otherwise, save a pair of high-heel shoes, she was quite naked... a visual feast of flesh... he stepped forwards in anticipation as Gideon forced her down onto her knees. "You're going to let me have... her?" he asked, his eyes still roaming over her body. "Who is she? Why is she wearing a mask?" "You know her, boy," Gideon replied ominously. "The mistress knows of your affection for this girl. She is to be your first test. Unmask her... but remember, she is yours. Yours to command. Do with her as you please. Have her." Franklin knew who she was even before he reached forward to pull off the mask. It hadn't been so long ago that he had last spoken with her, shared confidences with her, loved her like the big sister he could never have. And here she was for him, gift-wrapped, a female who would give him that which he craved the most. "Kitty..." he sighed, pulling off the mask. I marveled at Malice's genius... exploiting his immature puppy love crush for the girl... not knowing (or indeed being able to understand) just how much she had been altered by Selene, how the weeks of prostitution had turned her from the upstanding heroine he adored into the craven prostitute who had surrendered her mind, soul, and body to the worship of man... any man who had the money. Kitty Pryde and Franklin Richards locked eyes, the boy triumphant as his own need was reflected in hers, the full power of his crush returning with a vengeance. "My... how you've grown, Franklin," Kitty purred, leaning forwards, trapping her breasts between her outstretched arms, emphasizing her charms. I could feel the torture in his mind. The fond memories of how he had befriended the Pryde girl as she clung on to existence as both his father and the evil Doctor Doom had worked to save her life, how his simple faith in humanity had been the anchor she had needed to fight for life, her warm gratitude once her life had been saved. At the same time, here was a bitch in heat, girl flesh all too eager to accept his throbbing penis, a female who would pleasure him. How different had been the cries of ecstasy from the men on the video screen when compared to his own shouts of orgasmic release. He would no longer need his hand anymore. He could do it properly. He could fuck the girl. Possess her. Make her do whatever he chose. Franklin Richards was lost. He was staring at her chest, his gaze caught up in the soft curves being proffered to him. "What do you want from her, Franklin?" Gideon asked, frustrated at the lack of action. "The girl is yours. She only needs your simplest command." "Kitty... let me... let me see... you." She smiled accommodatingly, reaching behind her to unclasp the leather halter top, closing her eyes in joy as her breasts bounced free. Kitty Pryde looked deeply into the eyes of her lover to be, cupping both of her mounds, lifting them to clearly display her erect buds. "I am yours, my sweet," she sighed. "Take me... and let me take you to heaven." There was nothing that Franklin wanted more, yet the ice-cold fear of a virgin had seized him, the fear of the unknown, the uncertainty that the uninitiated had to conquer when taking their first partner. Gideon knew it too. It was clear that he'd been here many times before and I sensed that he knew how to deal with it. Perhaps were Kitty to take the initiative, it would be enough, but this would not do. To Gideon, a man had to be strong, he had to take the first step or in this crucial stage, he would forever feel submissive to the female. No, Franklin Richards would have to learn by example. Another girl he cared about would have to be taken by proxy. Only by example would he learn. Franklin's shock intensified as he recognized the bowed form of Jubilee herded into the room, clad only in a see-through nightie, her face made up like a whore's, her bobbed hair now grown to shoulder length. Inside her mind, I could sense her torment. Selene had not been so kind to her. After her ordeal at the hands of Mr Fantastic, she had been assigned duties as a non-consensual prostitute. A lot of the Hellfire Club's more vicious members enjoyed taking a girl forcefully. Selene's only conditioning with Jubilee had been to make her respond to the brutality, to make her like it, to make her resistance melt into acceptance and then finally, orgasm. Forced onto her knees by Gideon's powerful hands, she looked up in fear as the bald man pulled off his robe and began to fondle his genitals right in front of her eyes.The torment in Franklin's mind intensified even as Kitty snuggled into his arms, both of them watching the imminent deflowering in front of them. Franklin knew Jubilee, he cared for her, but at this time all he could really see was a girl about to be fucked, a girl about to receive the cock she obviously craved. She wore the makeup of a whore, and he was drawn to her painted red lips, his mind wandering to the image of his boy-prick spewing white cream over her mouth, forcing her to suck him dry. The feeling of Kitty's warm flesh against his brought an extra urgency to his erection, the girl giggling as he thrust his cock against her back and reached around to grope her exposed breasts. "Jubilee... tell Franklin what you are... what you will do for me," Gideon demanded in a calm, matter-of-fact tone of voice. "I... will be paid to have him... I will give him pleasure. My body is his to enjoy. His cock will flood me and I will... I..." "What will you do, slut? Tell Franklin." "I will cum for him." She began to cry, but Gideon was not interested. He used his fingers to open her mouth by force and drew his cock level, grunting as he pushed it into her mouth. "Yes!" he cried, between gasps and laughter. Franklin pulled harder on Kitty's nipples as he watched Gideon's meat push in and pull out of Jubilee's mouth. He could hear her gag, he could see her reaction, her resistance. But it didn't matter. She had said that she would cum. Why should she lie? She had admitted she was a whore. Gideon's face was a contorted expression of sheer pleasure as he face-fucked her mercilessly. It was the look that Franklin so envied, the look of a man enjoying a girl, the look of a man not using his hand to pleasure himself. "I... I want..." he stuttered into Kitty's ear. "Put my... put my thing in your..." Kitty turned to face him. She knew what he wanted, but she was under orders only to obey the most explicit commands. Franklin saw her beautiful features, her distinctive Jewish nose, her open mouth and puffy lips. The image of Jubilee's cum-coated features was replaced with the thought of Kitty tonguing the cum from his cock even as streams of his cream coated her face. "Put my thing... in your mouth." Gideon howled in triumph as Kitty went down and licked the boy's cock slowly, before sucking him into her warm oral depths. He pulled out of Jubilee's mouth, pulling her to her feet, relishing the sound of fabric tearing as he exposed her little 13-year-old titties, before pulling away the see-through garment totally. He enjoyed her struggle as he pushed her onto the ground, forcing his knees between hers, appreciating her whimpers and cries of "no!" as he ran his cock over her bald little pussy, knowing that the friction on her clit would wet her opening sufficiently. He also knew that Franklin would be watching, that the obscene act coupled with Kitty's accomplished oral technique would take him over the edge. He would learn that submissive women would service him, that those who resisted would be forced to orgasm against their wills. Franklin's eyes burned with triumph as he saw Gideon's cock plough deeply into Jubilee's tight little cunt, his mind awash with burning fire as his own lusts were stoked by the display and the feelings of raw pleasure that shot through him as he felt the heavenly suction on his prick, the ever-dancing tongue darting from one sensitive area to an even more exciting one, the exquisite teasing as Kitty lightly tickled the underneath of his bald scrotum. As Jubilee cried out in pain at the most savage penetrating thrust yet, Franklin screamed in release and came hard, appreciating the choking noises coming from below him as Kitty gagged on the thick white cream that shot forth from the head. "Keep sucking... I ain't finished!" he ordered, feeling his cock retain its rigidity even after the mind-numbing climax. Franklin felt his hips involuntarily flick themselves into Kitty's mouth as he continued to watch Jubilee getting the treatment, feeling triumphant as he saw her finally begin to gasp and moan beneath the relatively hulking form of Gideon. "She's breaking!" cried the man triumphantly as he felt the fresh layers of her cream seep across his buried prick. "Fuckin' whore's gonna take it good!" "Yes..." Franklin murmured as he watched Jubilee's legs fold around Gideon's buttocks, her face twisted in ecstasy as the pummeling thrusts worked their magic upon her. "Cum... go on do it... cum... cum you... y-you whore!" Jubilee screamed in release, her hips pistoning madly as she came. Gideon continued to pound into her, finally pulling out, the angry red head pitting its white venom over her bald little cunt, before being sprayed over her stomach, tits and face, a maniacal Gideon laughing to himself as he forced his still-leaking prick head over her lips, over her nose and into her eye socket. Franklin pulled Kitty away from him, oblivious to the disappointment in her eyes, his mind locked onto the needs of his own cock. He had seen how simple it was. He pulled away Kitty's thong with contemptuous ease and crawled in between her legs, his gaze fixated upon her lightly thatched little pussy. "Gonna... gonna put it in your hole... yeah..." His cock dribbled cum as it approached the waiting snatch, the young boy surging in another mind-rending climax as he pushed it inside of her, screaming in ecstatic triumph. I heard laughter in my mind as Franklin took his first girl... Malice triumphant, despite her still having failed to carry out her primary objective. But yes... that could wait. Her progress so far had been most satisfactory and as long as the job was performed properly I could wait for the results.

Marvel/X-Men, MF, MFF, MC, inc, NC, rape

Chapter Thirty One: Corruption of the Innocent

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/16553.txt

YngFox

TRAINING CAMP

"Brandy's still training," Clarissa said. "She's a bit shy yet, but I think she's going to make it." I had my hand against the small of Clarissa's back. Her skin was so silky, it was like stroking a kitten. We stood looking through the one-way mirror as Brandy moved back and forth between the two men who sat in chairs on opposite sides of the room. With the man on the left, she would kneel between his legs and suck his cock. After a couple of minutes of that, she'd stand up and run over to the other man, climb up in his lap, and wrap her hand around his stiff cock to guide it into her pussy. When she'd settle down on it, she looked upward dreamily, her face etched with pleasure. "She's rather homely," I observed, enjoying the sensation of Clarissa's little fingers squeezing my prick. "Yes," she agreed, nodding vehemently. "Downright ugly, in fact. That's one of the reasons I'm so optimistic about her. Some of these kids come in here looking like pint-sized porno queens, all made up and with high heels. Those are often the hardest to develop. Brandy has never known her father, so she craves masculine attention and is very suggestible." "How many partners has she had?" I asked. "Three men, well, these two men and a boy." "How old's the boy?" I wanted to know. "Twelve." "Ah, I see. Very good." I sat down, and Clarissa rested on my lap. My cock stood up between her open legs. I caressed her chest, rubbing the hypersensitive little nipples. Clarissa had always been very "ma-nipple-able". Even before we'd started fucking, I used to play with her nipples, rubbing and licking them, after her bath perhaps, or when I put her to bed. She would get the most dreamy look on her face, which I could only compare to the hypnotic state of a chicken when one draws a line in front of it. She'd instinctively open her legs, exposing her small sex. My girlfriend used to watch us sometimes, standing in the doorway with a sardonic smile on her face. Now that she was older and sexually active, Clarissa was almost pathologically hooked on any form of intercourse, even experimenting with her mother. Then it was my turn to watch. "God, that feels so good," she wheezed. I could sense the smile on her lips. "You always get me so fucking hot!" I kissed the back of her neck, and she ground her butt on my pelvis, positioning herself for a sitting fuck. Meanwhile, Brandy brought off the guy on the left, in her mouth. Then she went back to the other man and rode him until he came too. She was beaming, the little darling, and talking up a storm. She seemed to feel it necessary to thank the men for every little thrust, every drop of sperm, every caress and kiss. I could see she had quite low self-esteem. Perfect. I kept my right hand on Clarissa's belly, feeling my cock pressing deep into her womb. How hot her little cunt was, how tight it gripped. My other hand found her hairless folds, and I strummed her clit, it was as small and hard as a grain of uncooked rice. Brandy was putting her clothes back on, so were the men, as I ejaculated. My daughter leant back against me, enjoying the post-coital warmth. She wriggled her butt as my cock slowly softened. "What next?" Clarissa asked. "Well, how about we go watch some of the others?" I suggested. "Okay!" she agreed. She dressed. Her outfit was very cute: a pair of the tightest yellow short-shorts, black two-inch heels, and lots of jewelry. With a side view, I admired her nipples. When aroused like this, they were still not even an eighth of an inch long, but I fancied that they were hard enough to scratch glass. "No shirt?" I asked. She looked at me naughtily and smiled. "Why bother? What's to hide?" I laughed. She had nothing to hide. We went to the "free-form room", where advanced students were permitted to engage their fantasies with one another. All the students here were trained and had passed their probationary period. Brandy, therefore, was not allowed yet. One of our very best students, Eric, was walking about the room with his hands on his hips, checking out the girls. His small cock was stiff as could be and sticking straight up. Eric was a "butt man". His best friend Carl, who was a bit older and better endowed, walked with him, sporting a fine erection of his own. Carl approached a precious little minx named Susie, who was lying naked on the floor, squirming about with her fingers in her twat. Her eyes sparkled like stars in the night. She was Korean, as pretty as a picture. "Do you want to fuck?" Carl asked her. She nodded and sat up, reaching for his cock. Meanwhile, Eric came up behind Alice and stuffed his dick against her butt. He reached around her and put a hand over each nipple. He whispered something to her, and I saw her hand drift backward and stroke his hip. "Ah, young love!" I said. Clarissa went off to a young boy who had a very small penis. He was holding a balsa-wood airplane in his hand and winding the rubber band to make it fly. She cupped his balls and kissed him, and he drew back with boyish revulsion at that. I remembered myself at that age. Even though I fucked, I couldn't stand a girl slobbering on me. But Clarissa really liked kissing. She enjoyed any exchange of bodily fluids. "Come on, okay?" she asked him hopefully, a beautiful smile on her face. "Ah, okay," he agreed, feigning reluctance. I knew for a fact he was one of the horniest students with the metabolism of a bumblebee. He'd fuck and cum a dozen times a day. My daughter got on her knees and sucked him to a stand. His prick was barely two inches long, but it was thick. Clarissa didn't care about cock size anyway. They went into a corner, and she laid out a blanket, and they got down and screwed. He held onto his little airplane all the time. He made sputtering noises with his mouth like a propeller and waved the plane around in the air, crashing and diving. He went "Ack, ack, ack," to imitate machine gun fire. Quite a thing for a girl to get fucked by the Red Baron while he was in a dogfight. This boy, Donovan, was a source of great pride to me. One of the things we strive for in our training camp is to conjoin sexuality with complete naturalness. So a boy or girl would ideally do all the things others of their age normally do, with the addition of being sexually active. Thus, a boy might play video games one moment and be fucking some girl's face the next. A girl might lay aside her Barbie dolls to go stand leaning over a chair while another student or a trainer encunted her from behind. Fucking should be as natural and unremarkable to them as eating, playing, or sleeping. I was getting pretty horny and looked around for a girl to help me with my cock. To my delight, my very favorite pupil was not engaged. Her name was Cody. She sat naked at a little work table, with her plump butt sticking over the edge of the seat, her tongue hanging out the side of her mouth as she concentrated on drawing with her crayons. "What are you drawing?" I asked her. "Well, a dog, silly!" she told me very adult-like and sounding almost insulted. I looked at a bluish blob with black lines sticking out like thunderbolts and did my best to imagine how this was a dog. "Would you like to take a break and fuck?" I asked. "Yes," Cody said, laying down her crayola. "He's not very good, is he?" she asked me, looking up for adult approval. "Oh, he's a very good dog, Cody," I assured her. "I can almost imagine him barking!" She giggled happily. Then she said, "My cunt is awfully tight, you know. You want me to squirt something into it?" "Oh, no, no honey, that's not necessary," I told her. I hated to use goop, preferring natural lubrication, and I would arouse her patiently until she was ready. I lifted her up and carried her on my hip, her legs wrapped around me. We went to an adjoining room used by staffers. She kissed my upper arm through my shirt, since she couldn't reach up higher to kiss my face. "Ooooo, your belt is scratching my cunt," she said with a girlish squeal. "Does that make you horny?" I asked. "Yep!" She dissolved in laughter.She came to America as a high school sophomore exchange student; my sister Brenda went to Hungary and stayed with her family. I was a freshman in college, still living at home. We quickly fell in love. Dagmar decided to stay in America, and after I got her pregnant, she moved to my college town, and my parents never knew we had a kid together. Star found work at Denny's, and after she gave birth, she did a little part-time pussy peddling. It was enough to keep us supplied with a roof, dope, and plenty of beans. I don't understand why she decided to name our daughter Clarissa. I still don't care for the name, and both of us normally call her Rissa. Clarissa suggests white to me, and our daughter is definitely not fair. She's dark like her mother, with black eyes and black hair. Her skin is like porcelain, and she has natural red cheeks and ruby lips. Anyway, that's the name Star gave her. Star is one of the most tempestuous lovers I've ever had. She's as wanton and shameless as a man could ever hope for. That's why we'll never split up, even if we never do get married. Star has a slender frame, and her tits are quite big for her build. Her ass is spectacular, and I'm a real ass man, so take my word for it. Anyway, Star said, "Wouldn't it be wonderful to get her fucking," and I felt my heart flutter. The thought had been inchoate in me up to that time. Sure, I played with my daughter's nipples, and sometimes when I was half-crocked, even ate her out, but I'd never consciously thought of fucking her. Maybe Star didn't mean with me, maybe she just meant fucking in general. "I'd like to, Mummy," Rissa piped up. "I really want to!" Star joined us at the bed. She sat on the edge and held our daughter's hand. "Your daddy loves to fuck young girls," she said. It was true. "I think it would be so nice if you started fucking." "I could fuck Daddy?" Rissa asked. I decided to butt out of this and let the "women" discuss it. As I left the room, Star was tracing circles around Rissa's nipples and kissing her on the forehead. "Listen," Star said as I closed the door, "We can break you in with a man I know......" I went into the bathroom and beat off. Two weeks later, my little girl was no longer a virgin. One of Star's old business acquaintances (vide: pimps) had popped Rissa's cherry and gotten her hooked. This guy Gabe was a good buddy to us. I liked him. He always had fine weed and never came on to Star. We did things socially. Like I said, Gabe was a good guy. He told me once, "Your daughter is really hot, Rick. You fuck her yet? You ought to start if you aren't." "But shit," I objected, almost choking on the rich smoke in my lungs, "Isn't she kinda dry or somethin'?" Gabe laughed throatily and pulled the bong back. "Tight hell. Tight. Never better. But dry, no!" "Daddy, when are we gonna fuck?" Rissa demanded as she swirled into the living room where Gabe and I sat. She was buck-assed naked with her panties in her hand, waving them like a flag at a bull. Star walked in behind her. I stared at Rissa's round little pussy, all glistening and hairless, and at her flat chest and baby-fatted tummy. "She's ready, Rick," Star told me. "You fuck her, okay?" Gabe leant back against the couch and said "Cool." Rissa stood in front of me, pulling open her pussy so wide it almost inverted itself. The pink inner folds glistened from masturbation. "See?" she insisted. "I'm ready, Daddy!" I wanted to fuck her, but I was a little reluctant to pull out my dick in front of Gabe. I've always been a little embarrassed about my cock. It's only five inches long when erect. Gabe went over to Star and kissed her on the cheek, but made no attempt to grope her. "Yeah, do it Rick," Gabe agreed. "Lookit how hot she is!" I had to agree. My daughter was practically frothing at the mouth and was diddling herself crazy. Against my better judgment, I let her unzip my pants and fish out my dick. "Oh! Daddy!!" she warbled and then sucked me. It was so exciting to me that I almost didn't get into her cunt in time. When we did come, my girlfriend and Gabe were standing side by side watching us raptly, and both of them began to applaud. Well, that was two years ago. The idea for the "training camp" came six months later. Ch. 3. "You know, I'm not the only one fucking," Rissa announced one morning at breakfast. Star put her coffee mug down and said, "Well, I don't imagine you would be. I mean, this is the 20th century." "But shit, Mom," Rissa went on, "When I told Ruby about it, she looked at me like I was a geek or something. She said, 'Well, I've been doing it for two years, you mean you just started?' Mom, that's awful, how come you didn't show me how sooner?" Rissa was very upset. Her mouth was all crinkled, and her lips were frowning, and she was crying so hard her tears almost shot out like venom from a bull-frog. "Well, honey, two years ago you were probably a little too young," Star tried to reassure her, but Rissa stood up angrily and stomped out of the room. I shook my head. What can you do? Star said, "I really should have suggested it sooner. Jack, I know you like young girls, I guess I should have faced things earlier." "That's okay, baby," I assured her. Rissa was being unreasonable. She was fucking now, after all. And Rissa knew better, too. She came back to the kitchen, no longer crying, but her eyes were still red. "I'm sorry, mummy," she said, using that term for the first time since she rid of her cherry. "I was wrong. I'm sorry." At this point, Rissa had only fucked me and Gabe, at least so I thought. I knew she wanted to fuck a lot of guys; she had the same drive as her mother. The next day, Rissa said, "I asked around at school today, and there's seven girls in my class who fuck." Star said, "Well, that's nice, dear. How many girls are in your class?" "Eleven." I could hardly believe it. Approximately two-thirds of her classmates were sexually active. "How many boys do you think?" I wondered. "Oh, I don't think any," Rissa said. "They're dumbbells, Daddy. They want to play war at recess and think it's funny to fart in the lunchroom. They're a bunch of dorks." "So, who're the girls fucking?" I asked. "Well, some of the teachers, and, well, you know, guys." I tipped my cereal bowl up to my face and drank down the milk and Captain Crunch. Then I drank my orange juice. I looked at Rissa sternly, expecting her to say more. She fidgeted and finally said, "There's a group of girls and they....we, well, I joined, see?...and there's a place we can go where boys from high school come by." Star was very interested. She herself loved younger guys, high school aged. Always had liked young stuff. "The Principal, Mr. Addams, and the Vice Principal, Miss Leslie, they let us come to their house after school. But we have to come one by one, and not too many at a time, and the boys have to come through the woods and leave their bikes out of sight. Then we get to fuck whoever's there." This was quite a revelation to me. I hadn't thought about how difficult it must be at her age to structure a good sexual environment. Rissa went on, "Mr. Addams told me once he is going to start a school for sex, so other people can learn. I think that'd be great, don't you, Daddy?" "Learn about sex?" I mused, chewing my toast. "Why, yes." That was the germ of the idea. I called the Principal that afternoon, and the next day, we got together, him, his girlfriend Miss Leslie, myself, and Star. "Look at 'em go!" Miss Leslie exclaimed with delight, her high firm bosom swelling against her maternity dress. "You'd never guess how old they were, would you?" Star said, "Well, actually I would, I mean, they're young!" "Of course, of course," Mr. Addams agreed, shaking my hand as I watched gape-jawed. Two youngsters rutted on the carpet like creatures possessed. "Call me Hank," he told me. "Boy's name is Peter, the girl is Samantha." "There are more in the other room," Carol Leslie told us. I went with her, and we saw two other couples on the floor fucking. "The girl over there we call 'Big Tits'," Carol said. "She's the oldest girl in the 'club'. Her partner is Jeremy." "He is....?" I asked. "A sophomore. Very dedicated. He's here every afternoon." "Big Tits" was a bit of a misnomer. What tits she did have could have been sliced off with a paring knife, and both plopped in a sherbet bowl without overflowing the rim. She did have a hint of hair on her pussy, which turned me off a little. Star never let hair show on her pussy. The four of us adults went to the kitchen to talk. "I hear you are going to form a school?" Star began. "But there is a problem with money," Hank said, nodding and business-like. "We need to advertise, solicit, set up a compound. I think we need at least $50,000 to get started." Carol held his hand lovingly and said, "We need privacy, Rick. Someplace where parents can bring their children, and no one's going to snoop around." "Idaho," Hank said. "That's 300 miles away," I objected. "And God's Country," Hank countered. "Yes," Star said. "Remote, free." We kicked it about, discussing financing, structure, the buildings, etc. I could see how this would work for Hank and Carol, being teachers. They had the summers off. Star had no fixed employment, so she could go anytime. And I could do it too, I finally realized. I work cab 3 days a week and drive a transit bus 21 hours a week. I could become seasonal and go off in the summer. Our house payment was minimal, thanks to my Dad making a down payment much larger than necessary. Star and I signed papers with Hank and Carol, we got a few parents in school to pool their money with us, and in March, I went to Idaho and purchased a nice lot. 360 acres on rolling timbered grounds, with two buildings already in place.We very discreetly advertised all winter long and soon had over twenty couples willing to make a commitment, including several who would help with construction. When we gathered in March, we were almost like an Amish community, cobbling together a barn, a dining hall, and several training rooms. Our little project was about to bear fruit. Chapter 4. Star handed me the list of students. They were arranged by age, oldest to youngest. On the left side were the girls, on the right the boys. There was one girl too many. I wanted equal numbers. Star objected. All the students were suitable, she said. Hank arrived at my office all grimy from working in the garden. Behind him came Carol, with their little boy in her arms. He was adorable, just a little bundle in white blankets. "When do we fuck some students?" Carol asked excitedly. "I'm so fucking horny with Timmy sucking my tits all day. I want some cock!" Star told her, "Well the busload should be here in about an hour. But really, Carol, slow down. I don't know how many of them already fuck, and we're going to need to have them fill out forms and stuff." "Yes, honey, be reasonable," Hank told his Vice Principal girlfriend. "You're going to get plenty of cock soon enough." "I want pussy too!" Carol said. We all had a good laugh. The parents would be there, some at least. I looked forward to our first day of Training Camp. Soon the bus arrived, driven by our new friend Pablo Caroles. He spoke broken English. An old gristled man with gnarled fingers and hair growing out of his nose, Pablo had kicked in $75,000 to our venture. He was one of those interesting Idaho freemen types and wore a gun all the time. I was impressed by the people who got off the bus, parents and children alike. They were all "beautiful people" sorts, i.e. upper middle class, well dressed. The students were not all exactly pretty or handsome, in fact quite a number were absolute dogs, but we were prepared for that and it really did not matter a bit. Sexual development didn't depend on looks. It depended on cock arousal and open cunts. One or two of the students were doing their best to steal the show. There was a young girl who got off the bus naked and had the biggest dildo shoved up her little cunt you ever did see. She was vaingloriously proud of herself. Another interesting specimen was a boy who was masturbating as he stepped off the bus, and he made fanciful little Michael Jackson moon-dancing moves. As they all lined up for inspection, I thought he came, but I never saw anything come out, so wasn't sure.

Inc/MFbg

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/17961.txt

John K

Funeral

"I'm not sure how she managed to convince her father to let her wear that dress to a funeral, but I was glad she had." When she gets up to take a leak during the service, she winks and nods to the back of the church. Hmmm... Gives new meaning to the phrase "belief in an afterlife," doesn't it? Perhaps the narrator offers the best summary: "Best blowjob I've ever had, wants me to fuck her in the ass, and she's a virgin. In a church, at a funeral. This has got to be a dream!" Title: Sweet Inspiration Tags: Chapter: Author: Shelby Bush Text: Because of the death of his wife, Shelby Bush stopped posting stories on a.s.s. about a year ago. He's back with a "true interlude" about his romance with Beverly, a long-time friend who has recently become a lover. This is not really an outstanding story - yet; but it concludes with a cryptic "--- not the end ---." And so we may yet see a fully developed story. However, even in its present incomplete format this story will be enjoyable to people who have followed Shelby's writings on this newsgroup and who will be glad to hear from him again. Title: Porch Tags: Chapter: Author: Crimson Dragon Text: This author has written several very good stories recently. You can add this one to that list. Michelle and Lara are professional women. Michelle is on the verge of becoming a partner in her law firm, but she sees life as devoid of the beauty and enthusiasm it should have. Lara has just broken up with her boyfriend. While comforting her friend, Michelle spontaneously expresses her love for her and scares her off. The main focus of the story is on the fear and other emotions that go through Michelle's mind as she tries to make sense out of this dangerous but beautiful new relationship.The scene in which they first consummate their love is extremely sexy and touching. Ratings for "Porch" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 "Shopping" by Sam (tievol@hotmail.com). I suspect Sam doesn't give a damn whether I like his story or not. But I read this entry expecting to find a story, and so I think I'll go ahead and write a review to help someone else avoid the same mistake. What we have here is an idea for a story. Two people like to have sex where they might get caught. And so they do. Have sex that is - not get caught. Twice. My suggestion to Sam is to develop a story with a focus. Sam himself probably sees this story in a richer context than the one he wrote it in. He should share that context with us. As it is, this story is analogous to telling some funny things that happened instead of telling a joke. The difference is that the joke has a build-up and a climax - it's a story instead of a list of events. Ratings for "Shopping" Athena (technical quality): 7 Venus (plot & character): 4 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 4 "The Cruelest Month" by Hawkeye. This is a follow-up to "April Showers," to which BillyG gave high ratings back in CR 272. I'll repost that review. Both stories are a part of Hawkeye's "Seasons," and somebody named doogiewoodburner has reposted all seven stories in this series. Good Doggie! In this episode, Sam is trying to have a long-term relationship with Lisa, but he boinks Julie again in the shower one fine Sunday morning. The title refers to the fact that "breaking up is hard to do." Or, as T.S. Eliot more aptly put it in The Waste Land: April is the cruelest month, breeding Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing Memory and desire, stirring Dull roots with spring rain. Of course, the previous story in this series {April Showers} was a play on the words by the more popular but less known poet who wrote: April showers Bring May flowers. I've come to two realizations. First, the reason college tuition is so high is that college guys spend so much time in the showers with the hot water running while they masturbate or occasionally play sex games with their lady friends. Second, although this story is not all that good as a stand-alone, the overall "Seasons" series is an excellent story of a young man's sexual odyssey. So if you read this story at all, read it in the right order with the rest in the series. And thanks again, doogiewoodburner. Ratings for "The Cruelest Month" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 8 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 8 "Remember the Alamo" by Rob4Play (Rob4Play@aol.com). Guest review by Dave Myers. When a writer knows how to express his own enthusiasm, it makes up for a lot. Synopsis: A traveling salesman makes a date with his regular thang on his way through Texas. She's hot to trot, as usual. When writing for the "encounter" type of story, the most important thing is the early hook to make the reader know, understand, and like the characters. Oh, yeah, and to make them want to wait around until they get fucked. Here, the author almost gets the right dosage of pre-sex story-building, but still undershoots by a tad. Still, he's playful and game about the whole thing, and as I said before, that makes up for a lot. I mean, how many stories feature a cockprint made on paper and inked in lipstick? But there are some improvements that can be made in the general style of the writing. The writer needs to decide earlier on how far he wants us to "believe" the story. The level of detail is very inconsistent. I'm left unsure whether to believe this is a fantasy world filled with people from this world or a "real" world filled with fantasy people. Now, perhaps that is the point of the story anyway, but in an encounter so brief, there is no time to get sucked in, to get into the characters' rhythms. So, the story needs to make up its mind sooner about how convincing it needs to be. Rating: 7 "The Shower" by Tiramisu (no address). Guest Review by R'khaan (rkhaan@ix.netcom.com) So, we have Sara and Jim, middle-aged parents who find themselves without children one night. Sara's a little cranky because Jim's been off his feed of late, being rather stingy with the one-eyed wonder worm. While pondering her daughter's relationship with a new boyfriend, Sara undresses and heads for the bathroom to speak to Jim. To her surprise, Jim's in the shower doing the knuckle shuffle; and Sara is suddenly very angry that he can find time to do himself but not her. As she watches her husband stroke himself into a pending orgasm, Sara finds she's becoming very excited at the scene before her. Girlfriend's hypnotized as Jim continues to massage himself and, despite herself, calls out to her husband. At least Jim tries to play things off, not that Sara buys it. Sara manages to surprise herself by suggesting that Jim can finish what he was doing - but he can't come until she says so. Jim agrees and allows Sara to blindfold him, as his wife's presence seemed to unnerve him. Now blindfolded, Jim proceeds to do as Sara bids, and Sara's really getting her cookies off on being able to control her hubby, as well as the sight of Jim really going for what he knows. Sara gets off and allows Jim to get off and that's the show. This story was cute, if not very original. Celestial Ratings for "The Shower" R'khaan (technical quality): 4 R'khaan (plot & character): 4 R'khaan (appeal to reviewer): 4 "A Matter of Need" by Watcher (llxzt@hotmail.com). Review by Sven the Elder, who may be contacted at Sven@brass-neck.demon.co.uk This story is a simple one - it deals with the trauma of a devoted married couple, one of whom dies, and the subsequent trials and tribulations the surviving partner goes through as his friends attempt his rehabilitation. Now consider that the above synopsis is like saying that either St Paul's Cathedral in London and the Capitol in Washington are just buildings. This story is a tear-jerker - I don't mind admitting that at the end I cried - sentimental old fool that I am! Using colors to describe the changing mood and turmoil in the mind of the main character is a masterpiece of writing. It portrays what is almost an exorcism superbly. There are others who can probably vouch for the accuracy of the mood swings and feelings, better than I. Without actually having undergone the sort of agony portrayed, I can only imagine the situation - Watcher, for me has captured those feelings with total clarity of description. I have been deliberately a little cagey in the depictions and synopsis; saying too much would detract from the story itself, that I most certainly do not wish to do. Finally, I feel that I just read *my* story of '98. It will be a remarkable one that comes along to displace this from *my* number one. It *should* be in the top ten for the year at the very least. If you read no other stories from this set of reviews, this has to be the one. As to the ratings - this is the first story I have read that I genuinely feel is outside the rating structure, it is that good. However, to comply: Ratings for "A Matter of Need" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Sven (appeal to reviewer): 10 "Journey into Sexual Awareness" by Desdemona22 (desdmona22@aol.com). Guest review by Mary Jorsay Gandmar. (maryjg@finebody.com). This one has it all: passive voice, hackneyed clichés, hashed metaphors, labored humor, no plot, no characterization, clumsy language and, worst of all, not a vestige of eroticism - everything, in fact, except style and substance. The by-line is just plain silly: "written by an adult for an adult in an adult fashion". Indeed. The writing is plain bad: so much so that I found myself cringing, every line an assault. "We had experimented a little and when I say experimented I mean in an old-fashioned petri dish sort of way, let's put this on top of this and see what develops after awhile." Awhile? The OED says "awhile" means "for a short time", quite different from "a while", meaning after a little while. And how can sex be like a petri dish? A petri dish is round, shallow, has a vertical edge or lip and one cultivates bacteria or agar or some such thing in it, right? And this petri dish sex, we are told, is a 'hypothesis'. Duh. Also, it apparently lacks variety. Therefore the author "had out done the missionaries." Have mercy. Then there's the carelessness with grammar, spelling, syntax, construction: "Then along came my prime." Who dat? And she loves "the gates of hell" - they open up twice in four pages. Anyway, for what little it matters, here's what we're being told. Domesticated housewife suddenly finds herself turning into a bubbling cauldron of lust. Hormones seething in her bosom and elsewhere, she heads off to the local library and picks up a copy of the Kama Sutra. Back home, in bed with her husband (such excitement!) she presents him the book (here's the first set of the gates of hell yawning open). Lo and behold they discover that there is such a thing as anal sex, position 22. At this point, the writing slips from its already precarious perch."Finally, I grabbed the book and turned to position 22. I had always known that A would fit into B, but this was showing how A could also go into C. My 'C' kind of liked the idea and began to moisten in its avid approval. I showed him the picture and waited. Long minutes passed, and I had already begun to listen to the burning synapses between the vagina and brain and was casually fingering." A going into C, not B? Avid approval? Burning synapses? My 'C' kind of liked the idea? Surely this is the bottom of the barrel. More of the same. Madam's anus, asshole, whatever, is daintily referred to throughout as her hole C. The other proximate orifice, a.k.a. vagina, cunt, slit, pussy, etc., is hole B. Go figure. Madam is hot, we gather, because her 'pre-orgasmic body had already taken control of the intellectual side and told it to take a much needed nap'. When Monsieur hesitates at buggering his missus, she threatens to "do the Bobbit and proceed without him". How this miracle is to be achieved we are not told. Perhaps just as well. Now Monsieur needs "lubrication" which he obtains by "finding hole B first". This "nearly sends" the missus "from stoic control to blathering idiot". The former is inexplicable in the circumstances, and by now the reader is strongly tempted to regard the latter as the lady's natural state. Then they "proceed" with the "main attraction" (he having so "decreed") and this results in what must surely rank as the erotic howler of all time: "Take that, libido!" a tiny voice in the recesses of her mind cries. I didn't know one had to take revenge on one's sex drive. Meanwhile, her nerve endings do something called a happy dance. Is that like the birdie dance, clap your hands, flap your wings? Punch line. Madam wants to progress to position 69-101 and eventually earn "frequent user miles in that aisle at the bookstore." Um, I thought it was the library a few paragraphs earlier. No matter. A mere peccadillo, it pales in contrast. As for the user miles bit, the less said the better. Bereft of a single redeeming feature, this 'story' doesn't deserve a rating."I was advised to remove the shirt by an officer who is very unlikely to be reading this review: 'What if the newspapers take a picture of you?' I was tempted to literally remove the shirt right then and there, but saner heads prevailed. In her secret life, Cathy Donohue is Anne O'Donnell, writer of erotic short stories. Of course, the people of her community think of her as merely a happy homemaker and helpful member of the community, not as a porn writer. {This story is starting to strike too close to home.} Unfortunately, the college kid who comes to fix her computer makes the connection between Cathy and the Internet. Fortunately, he's a hunk. Being a gentleman, Glen promises not to reveal Cathy's secret identity. Being a lady, Cathy asks if there is anything she can do to repay him for fixing her computer. Being a horny virgin, Glen asks her to write a story for him. Being a horny non-virgin, she offers to go one better than that. Being a sexually active person, I'm getting pretty horny myself at this point. Being an English teacher, I'm pretty impressed with the parallel use of participial phrases in this paragraph. That's it! If I concentrate on the grammar I can make it through this story without having to do anything about my more mundane urges. OK. They're fucking now. Damn this is good stuff! I've got to do something to help me finish this story. The grammar. Concentrate on the grammar. Oh good, she said "alluding" when she meant "alluding" - I'm going to make it - or should that be "alluding"? Damn! I'm not going to make it after all. Maybe if I rub my pussy just a little while I finish this review... I'll even keep my pants on.... This won't be hard.... Won't be HARD! I've got to watch what I say, but it's difficult - to type with just one hand... Oh good, she said "...excuse as to why she stayed home." She's talking like Yogi Berra now. Oh, great! Sabrina knows Cathy's secret identity, and she even made hard copies of her stories and took them on the cruise with her and therefore she made love to her husband with renewed vigor each night and sometimes during the day. Oh shit! Now they're discussing their sexual relationships with other women.... If they make love to each other, I'm going to cum in my pants.... Except that I'm not wearing any pants.... Would you believe my husband's at a meeting at church? I'm a grown woman; I can take care of myself.... Good! She said "lay" instead of "lie" but that doesn't help - too much sexual innuendo in the "L" words. Now they're making love. I mean REALLY MAKING LOVE. OOOOH SHIIIIIT!!!! This was an exceptionally good story. I strongly recommend it. Ratings for "Crossing The Line" Athena (technical quality): 9.5 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 * "The Rocks" by Mark Aster (MyFrThAl@aol.com) http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=242335937 This story is preceded by this unusual disclaimer: "This story does not contain explicit sex of any kind. If non-sexual stories offend you, please stop reading at once." What kind of pervert, you might ask, would post a story like this? Actually, taken in the context of the entire Allen Sisters saga, this story is about sex in a very indirect way. My husband is by no means a pedophile, but he once told me it turned him on to see my parents' home movies of me as a child. He liked my innocence, he said, apparently in comparison to the sophisticated sexual dynamo I have become. Likewise, since readers of the whole series know that Pat and Julie are incredibly sensuous adults, it is sensuous if not actually sexy to see this snapshot of them at an early age, discovering the differences between boys and girls. The main difference, as the story reveals, is that boys throw rocks a lot more often than girls. Ratings for "The Rocks" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/13319.txt

Joy Paine

Tour of the Torture Chamber

"And this is the torture chamber," Alice said. "Would you like to have a tour of the place first, or would you like to start raping and torturing me right away?" Al drooled. It was great, hearing the broad talk in such a matter-of-fact manner about the ugly fate that awaited her. He knew that she was behaving that way out of fear -- that she dreaded the coming ordeal as much as he was looking forward to it, but was terrified of the consequences if she didn't give him everything that he had paid for. And he had paid handsomely, in addition to the security deposit that they made him put up to cover any damage he might do to his victim in a moment of exuberant cruelty. But it was going to be worth every cent of it, he was sure. He knew that the girl had been thoroughly broken and tamed, but she wasn't sullen, or blasé, or defiant, in the least. Scared, yes. Scared shitless. He knew that he wasn't the first of her customers, and knew that she had a damned good idea what she was in for. But her attitude was one of total compliance, of eagerness to please. And there was a delightful touch of terror in her eyes. Al chuckled softly. He'd give her terror, all right. "Let's have the tour, Honey," he barked. "Maybe you'll be able to give me some ideas I hadn't thought of." Alice launched into her prepared script, taking care that it sounded spontaneous. ("The customers want a live broad, not a goddam machine," the Boss had warned.) "This," the hapless girl began, "is the Whipping Post. Although that's a rather inadequate name for it. As you can see, it's far too complicated a structure to be properly called a 'post'. And it has many uses other than whipping. But you can see that it makes provisions for fastening me into any position you might imagine, and making any part of my body whatsoever accessible to your whip, or to whatever else you want to do." Al grinned. He had some pretty good ideas what he wanted to do. Especially to those gorgeous tits, that looked even more naked than naked, under that tight jersey blouse she was wearing. "Speaking of whips," he rasped, "let's see some of them." The girl bowed slightly in obedience. "Here's one of our most popular models," she went on. "As you can see, it's short and stubby, with just a little bit of give to it. Very much like a short length of garden hose. It's most effective on the fleshy parts of the body, like the buttocks and the thighs. Or," she seemed to read his mind, "when it is used on the breasts, the agony is really excruciating. But it might cost you extra to use this whip." "Whaddya mean?" the man snapped. "I thought that I was allowed to do anything I wanted to you, after paying for you." "As you remember," Alice went on, "there is one limitation on what you may do to me. If you do anything that will lessen my appeal to my future customers, a suitable amount will be deducted from your security deposit. Anything else -- anything at all -- is fair game. But if you want to avoid being fined, you must avoid doing two things: you must not do anything that will injure me, and you must leave no marks that will last for more than a few hours. This whip is likely to leave bruises that will break that rule. "Of course," she continued, "the restriction on injury refers only to immediate damage. There is a widespread belief, for instance, that repeated abuse of a woman's breasts can lead to serious internal damage. However, the rule would not apply in this case, since my owner believes that any such disability would not become limiting until long after my useful life had passed. "But let's move on to the other whips," the slave girl continued. "This one is a good old-fashioned horsewhip, extremely painful in the hands of an experienced torturer, but also likely to break the skin and possibly to leave permanent scars. This can be very costly, unless you are skillful enough to hit me only directly between the thighs, where the scars will be hidden. For this reason, most of my clients prefer to use paddles, or this broad leather strap. The paddles and strap have the extra advantage that they are easier to control. It's far easier for the novice to hit right on target with them. "And here's a little dandy that's very popular," she went on. "As you can see, it's a fairly short whip, very springy. Sort of reminiscent of the birch rods that you read about in the stories of sadistic English schoolmasters. This whip is most effective in areas where the skin is thin, like the nipples and the genitals, and the anus." "Let's not have any of that la-de-da talk." the man interrupted. "Use words that I can understand, like 'cunt' and 'asshole'. 'Breasts' is OK, though," he added as an afterthought. "As you wish," the pretty young victim assented. "I can never be sure of a client's preference until he advises me." "OK, I'm advising you now," he grunted. "My preference runs to tits. What else have you got that I can use on them?" The girl shuddered. Obviously, this ordeal was going to be one of the more painful ones. It always was, with a tit man. But she didn't dare to appear less than enthusiastic. "Here is a very popular item," she replied. "We call it the Orange Squeezer. As you can see, it comes in pairs. You simply grip one of them in each hand, fit them over the breasts, and just squeeze. The leverage of the device multiplies the force of your grip, and the resulting pain is exquisite indeed. Many men like to use them while they are inside me, to heighten my response. Or, if you want your hands to be free for other purposes, you can use these clamps. You can adjust them to apply any degree of pressure that pleases you, and they will maintain that pressure until they are re-adjusted. For days on end, if you're willing to pay for my exclusive use for that long. "And you can tighten the clamps from time to time, to freshen the pain, as it were. Or you can increase the agony momentarily, by squeezing these studs, if you want to drive home a point. Or if you want my muscles to contract in a reflex of pain while you're raping me. And, as you can see, the clamps leave the breasts pretty well exposed, and open to any other attentions you may want to give them from time to time. "We have another similar pair of clamps that squeeze only the nipples," she added. "Would you like to see more, Sir, or would you like to start in with the equipment you've seen already?" "Let's see the whole schtick, Kiddo. We don't want you holding out any of these goodies, do we?" "Certainly not, Sir," the girl replied courteously. "Pins are always a popular item. We have a selection of them here, of various lengths and with various colored heads, so you can insert them in any pattern that pleases you. Something like a tattoo, but infinitely more painful. You will see that the pins are all stored in bottles of alcohol. We also ask that you swab off my breasts, or cunt, or other target area with alcohol before you stick in the pins. Not only does this reduce the risk of infection, but most clients find that it adds to their enjoyment to let me know ahead of time where they're going to shove the pin in, and give me a chance to savor the threat of the pain to come. Not that I don't have a pretty good idea of the general target area they'll usually select," she added. "Most of them get a large part of their kicks out of knowing how much I'm dreading the next step," she explained. Al could understand that one. It was the same psychology that made him enjoy making the girl talk about the ways he could torture her. "Another little trick that many of my dates like is to fix me up like a pincushion, and then force me into a bra that's much too tight. Sometimes they use a bra that has nipple cut-outs, if they want to leave access for other attentions, like whips, or electric shocks, or more pins. Or sometimes they have already stuck enough pins in my nipples." Her shiver of remembered pain was not lost on the man. "Burns," the girl went on, "cost extra. As does installation of nipple rings, even though the Boss admits that some customers prefer girls who have had their nipples pierced, as that opens up avenues to new torments." "Tell me more about those 'other attentions' that can be paid to the nipples," the man prompted. The girl took a deep breath before continuing, apparently weighing the possibility of dodging such a painful subject.But she knew that the penalty would be even more painful. "There are the thumbscrews," she went on, "that squeeze the nipples mercilessly. They are especially painful when used in conjunction with the breast clamps you just saw. And then there are connectors that deliver electric shocks, which can be varied in intensity from irritating to paralyzing. They can be fastened onto any part of the body with adhesive tape, or pinned on, but the nipples and the clitoris are by far the most popular targets. And by far the most painful ones," she added. "Or, if you don't like to have all these wires dangling, you have the option of using this electric dildo. It's battery operated, and completely self-contained, and is completely concealed within the vaginal cavity. I mean inside the vagina," she quickly amended, as she saw Al grimace at her use of the anatomical term. "Of course, it makes the vagina unavailable for intercourse, so that any rape must take advantage of other bodily orifices, but many torturers feel that the advantages far outweigh this limitation. The device is fired by radio, or by gentle pressure on the outside of the vagina. "This little gem is very popular with sodomists. Every time they slam into me, there is enough pressure on my vagina to set the damned thing off, making all my muscles in that area contract in synchronization with the rapist's strokes. "Or sometimes they make me straddle a pole -- on tiptoe, of course -- so that the damned thing goes off when my legs tire and my body sags a little bit. One of my clients likes to call that arrangement a 'horseback ride'. He's the one that also ties slipknots around my nipples and anchors them to rings in the floor, so I get a little extra agony on the upstroke, too."

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/8274.txt

Titmouse

Triple Treat

"Turn around," I told Maria Elena. "I want to give it to you from behind." She rolled to the side and let her knees slip down to the floor, presenting me with her ass cheeks. She laid her top half on the sofa, turning her head to the side and looking back at me out of the corner of her eyes. "Let me have it again, honey," she said. "Put it back inside me now. I want to feel you up against my ass." Maria Elena wiggled her hips and pushed her butt back at me. I held my cock in my hand and moved forward. Her gash was easy to find and at just the right height. I pushed back inside her, rocking forward a little deeper with each short thrust, then backward a bit, then forward again until her ass cheeks were spread by my groin and her soft fanny pressed against my stomach. I slid my hands up underneath her until they grasped her breasts and, holding her by them, I pumped in and out of her increasingly slick cunt. Maria Elena put her head down and fucked me back. She twisted her hips, making my cock roll inside her tunnel as it slipped in and out. "Ay, mi amor! Oooh, yes, baby," she said. "Oh, I like that!" I laid across her back, pressing her into the sofa and into my hands that still held her breasts. I bit the back of her neck and worked my teeth down onto her shoulders, nipping and sucking. I couldn't move well in that position, so I pushed all the way in, bumping against her ass with short, rooting movements. "Let me move," Maria Elena said. I raised up, thinking she wanted room for more active fucking, but she scrambled up onto the sofa on her hands and knees instead, pulling her cunt off my prick. Maria Elena faced one end of the sofa, putting her head down on the arm. Her ass stuck out, showing her asshole and the slot of her pussy below it. I climbed up behind her and fed my cock into her again. It went in in one slick slide, all the way to the bottom. Maria Elena pulled her head back, cocking her neck, her mouth wide in a grimace of pained passion. Kneeling behind her, I slammed my cock into her cunt, again and again and again. Maria Elena rocked back and forth on her knees, eagerly meeting each push forward with equal force, letting me slide out reluctantly, then shooting back against me again to meet the next thrust. The force of my pushes slapped me against her ass, making a smacking sound and setting the globes of her ass quivering. "Oh, shit, baby, that is so good," I said. Deep inside me, I could feel the first electric tingle of my cum. I stopped thrusting, trying to let it subside. "When you cum, I want it in my mouth," Maria Elena said. She sensed the reason I had stopped. "Tell me when you feel it start again, so I can suck it out of you." Her breath was coming in short gasps, and she was trembling. The wave had passed, and I started pushing in and out again, slowly, letting my prick drag back until it barely hung within the lips of her pussy, and then slowly forcing it back into her all the way to the bottom. I felt Maria Elena shudder as it went in and knew she was close to cumming herself, as if talking about it had pushed her own button. I hunched forward, jamming my cock all the way in, and slipped a hand around her to her cunt. Her pussy lips were spread wide by my intruding prick, and the lump of her clitoris jutted forward out of the top. I stroked it with my middle finger, and Maria Elena shuddered again. "Yes, baby, yes," she said. "I can feel it. I'm going to cum." She flung her head down and waggled her ass against my pelvis, slapping my cock from side to side within her. I stroked her clit again and she moaned. She was panting hard, and whining a high-pitched tone with each breath. Bracing one leg on the floor, I fed my cock to her, and flicked her clit repeatedly with my finger at the same time. The whine changed to a singing, keening cry. "Oh God! Oh dios mio!" Maria Elena gasped, "Give it to me, baby. Oh, fuck me!" I slammed it into her again and Maria Elena started to cum with a choked whimper. She jammed a pillow into her mouth to muffle her passionate cries, pushing her ass back against me in a rapid series of thrusts, jamming my cock all the way into her. Her hips bucked out of control, jerking back from the touch of my finger in exquisite pleasure-pain. Maria Elena came in a series of shudders that rolled outward from her cunt, which clutched at my skewering cock. Finally, she stopped, gasping. I held myself deep inside her. She could feel my tremors, now that her own were subsiding. She didn't have to be told that I was getting close again. Maria Elena collapsed forward, extending her legs and pulling my cock out of her quivering cunt. She turned onto her back, still under me, and hunched her way down the couch. Her hand reached out and grasped my juice-slickened prick, pulling it toward her mouth. Her lips closed around the head. I pushed forward slowly through her tightly clinging hand, forcing open her lips and invading her mouth. Maria Elena twisted her hand around my cock, sliding in her own pussy juice. She laid her thumb along the bottom, so that when I pulled back, it rubbed the sensitive underside. Her mouth and hand were one long tube into which I slipped my throbbing prick. I could push hard, since her hand kept me from going too deep. Maria Elena sucked on my cock when I pulled back, and waggled her tongue around the intruding head when I pushed in. Her fingers around the shaft squeezed and released, pumped back and forth, twisted around it. Maria Elena pulled my prick out of her mouth, but kept her hand sliding along it. She gripped the head expertly, rubbing it. She made a tight circle of her thumb and forefinger and slid it down over my cock. "I want your cum," she gasped. "I want it in my mouth this first time. C'mon, baby. Cum in my mouth." Maria Elena guided my cock back to her lips. She could tell I was close. My breath was ragged, and I trembled as her clinging mouth sucked at the head each time I pulled back. Her fingers dragged along the length of me. I could feel it start deep in my loins. She grunted, sensing the change, and increased the speed of her mouth and hand. I shoved back and forth, ramming into her eagerly grasping mouth. My long pent-up cum boiled up from my balls and shot into her. Maria Elena pumped on my cock, sucking the cum out of me, making wet, smacking sounds and convulsive swallows as it burst into her throat. The cum overflowed, spilling out the side of her mouth, coating her fingers which slid slickly over the length of my prick. I stopped thrusting, holding myself over her on trembling arms.Maria Elena nursed gently on my cock, sucking on the head and pulling out the last shudders of my cum. With a groan, I rolled to the side and laid on the floor, gasping for breath. She reached down and grasped my still-hard cock. "Let me do something special for you," she said, her mouth glazed with cum. She let go of my prick and raised her hand to her mouth. She pushed cum out onto her fingers. Cupping her hand, she rolled off the sofa beside me, using the other arm to support her on hands and knees. She reached behind her and worked her fingers between her asscheeks, basting her asshole with cum and saliva. "When I'm really turned on, I like it in the ass," she said. "Come on. I want you to stick your cock in me there." She laid her chest on the sofa again, presenting her ass to me. I got up onto my knees behind her. My still-hard cock glistened with slick cum, and I could see the wetness around her asshole when I spread the cheeks. Maria Elena reached back with her hands and held the cheeks wide for me. Taking my prick in my hand, I nudged forward until it touched her asshole. The puckered little circle twitched. I pushed, and it spread slightly, drawing a groan from Maria Elena. "Go ahead," she said. "Sink it in me. But go slow at first. I have to get used to it before you can really fuck me there." I kept the pressure on, stiffening my cock with my hand. Gradually, the tight ring of muscle yielded. It spread wider around the intruding head of my cock, the color of it paling as it stretched. With a little pop, the head pushed past the ring and into the channel of her ass. Maria Elena grunted, and she pushed a hand against my pelvis to keep me from going farther. I waited there for a moment. Maria Elena took a ragged breath, and then a more comfortable one. I could feel her relaxing gradually. "Oh, honey, you're so big," she said. "It's like a telephone pole in there." Big or not, she was ready for more of my cock. She signaled it by moving her restraining hand away and by pushing back toward me tentatively. Holding her asscheeks apart, I shoved forward slowly, sinking my prick into her back channel. Using little, slow thrusts, I buried it gradually into the depths of her asshole. When it was all the way in, I held it there. I shifted my hands to her hips and pulled her against me, forcing my cock as deeply as it could go. Maria Elena's hands were balled into tight little fists beside her head, her mouth was wide open, her eyes were squeezed shut and her lips drawn back from her teeth in a grimace. Keeping my prick deep within her, I twitched it, making it swell and subside. Each twitch caused a sharp intake of breath from Maria Elena, but there was no hint of resistance. Instead, she pushed back against me, keeping it buried in her to the hilt. "Oh, God," she said. "There's no feeling like that in the world. It's so deep inside me and so big that it feels like it owns me, that I'm nothing but a tight hole for your big cock." My erection had faded only slightly after my cum and was now as firm as it had been. Grasped by her tight ass channel, it swelled inside her. I felt Maria Elena clench her tube around my cock, as agile as a hand. The tight ring of her asshole circled the base of my cock, gripping it like lips. I pulled back slowly, drawing my prick out of her ass. When just the head was inside, I reversed direction and sunk it into her again, pushing forward until it had all disappeared inside her ass channel. Maria Elena arched her back and held her ass high, not moving, but holding firmly against my thrust. There was no sign of discomfort now. "Shove it into me," she said. "Rape my asshole. I want you to do it hard now. Stick it in me, honey. Fuck me hard." I needed little encouragement. My cock was a separate living thing, controlling me now. I pulled back and shoved it into her in one forceful thrust. I did it again, slapping up against the cheeks of her ass, watching my cock push in and then slide back into view. Maria Elena slid off the couch onto the floor, keeping my cock in her. She lay on her side, and I nestled up to her from behind. My arms were around her, grasping her tits. I pumped it in and out several times. She held herself back against me, relishing my hands on her breasts, then bent forward away from me, thrusting her ass back at my plunging cock. The angle was better, and I threw it into her back channel roughly. Maria Elena lifted her top leg and slid a hand down to her cunt, playing with it. She rubbed her clit. I stuck my finger into her cunt and worked it around. "Do you like that, baby?" she asked. "Do you like sticking your cock up my ass? You can fuck me anytime, any way you want. You can fuck my cunt, or my mouth or my ass. You can stick it between my tits and cum on my face. I'll let you do anything you want." I slammed my prick into her, and she pushed back against me eagerly. Both of us were trembling. I shoved it in deep and rolled my hips, working it from side to side in her ass. Maria Elena kept playing with her clit, running her fingers over it, circling the finger I had thrust inside her cunt, squeezing against her own cunt with her fingers, then centering on her clit and rubbing in a small circle. "Let's do it this way," Maria Elena said, and pulled her hips away from me. My cock slid out of her ass. She grabbed a cushion from the sofa, put it on the floor and rolled onto it, face up. The cushion raised her hips off the floor. "Put it back in my asshole," she said. "I want to see your face when you cum." Maria Elena bent her knees as I moved up to her, raising her legs high and exposing her ass to my attack. She hooked an ankle over each of my shoulders, and urged me into her. Her hands spread her asscheeks again, and I nudged my prick up against her asshole. Pushing forward, I sunk it into her again, watching it disappear into her channel. It went in easier this time, still tight but greasily accepting. I pushed all the way in and began to fuck her. Holding her hips up by pulling down with her legs, Maria Elena swiveled around my plunging cock. Now that I was firmly inside, she let go of her asscheeks and put a hand back on her cunt. Her other hand was behind my neck. I pushed in and out of her asshole. Looking down, I could see it shove into her and drag back out. Her red fingernails were a blur as she diddled her clit, her breath ragged again as her excitement mounted. It was getting to me again, too, although it seemed only moments since my previous cum. But I could tell I was going to cum again, and soon. My cock flashed in and out of her back tube. She was squeezing with her ass muscles each time I pulled back, relaxing as I pushed it in again. We were both cumming. Maria Elena's eyes were jammed shut, her face contorted by the passion flowing through her. She swung her hips around my prick as it drove in and out. A whimpering moan built up in her throat as I fucked her ass, spurred by the flashing fingers that worked in her cunt. With a cry of agonized relief, she began to cum. I matched her. The cum jolted out of me again, into Maria Elena's asshole this time. I pushed against her twitching, grabbing ass, and shot the first load of cum into her. A cry forced itself through my lips as I came. Maria Elena's cries answered me as she lost control in a wrenching cum. Although I had little juice left after the first time, the waves of pleasure rolled over me. Maria Elena was bucking and jerking as my cock drove into her ass, her eyes wide open now, watching me as I came in her ass. Her heels fell off my shoulder to the floor, almost popping me out of her, but I thrust forward quickly and buried it all the way into her asshole again. My prick shuddered, spitting little gobs of cum into her. We both collapsed, like puppets whose strings had been cut. I fell on top of her limp body, and she wrapped her arms around me. Another wave of cum rolled through her. My cock was still buried in her ass. When the shudder of passion passed, I started to pull back. Maria Elena grabbed my prick in her hand as I slid out of her. I rolled to the side and pulled her to me. She buried her face in my shoulder, pressing her body to mine. Her hand stayed between us, holding my rapidly shrinking cock. "That was so good," she said. "That was the best ever in a long, long time." Her hand jacked my prick gently. "I like the way you make love," I told her. "I'm glad you came home with me." Maria Elena's lips were against my cheek. "I meant it when I said you could fuck me any time, any way," she said. "As long as we're together, you can have me. I'll do anything you ask." "You already did," I said, "but I'll think of something special."

Part B

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11953.txt

Martina Lee

The New Boy

"Don't mind me," said Neil. He picked up his beer off the top of the TV, sat down on the couch to Calvin's left, and watched as Susana worked her mouth down over Calvin's rampant prick. He'd swapped his trousers for a laplap and was obviously naked beneath it — his own erection was clearly evident through the folds of the cloth. Calvin forced his mind away from what Susana was doing to his cock and checked the progress of the movie on the TV. Suck, slurp. Push, shove. He considered the cocks on the "actors", compared them with his own, and decided he was at least as well hung as either of them. He turned his attention to the girl, compared her oral technique with Susana's efforts, and decided Susana was ahead on points. As Neil leaned closer to watch, Calvin tangled the fingers of his right hand in Susana's hair and urged her on. Her hands crept up his chest, unbuttoned his shirt, then reached behind him and grasped the waistband of his trousers. He raised his hips, allowed her to pull pants and underpants over his bottom, then let go of her hair so she could raise her head and peel them down his legs and over his socks. Susana sat back on her heels, pulled the dress off over her head and then, naked, leaned forward again and lapped at the head of his cock. She held it low down, between the thumb and forefinger of her left hand, and waggled it against her tongue. Then she looked at Neil. "Munch me," she said. She worked her knees apart and Neil got off the couch, lay on his back between her legs, and wormed his head into her crotch. She closed her eyes as his tongue invaded her slit and began tickling her clitoris. Then she remembered her guest, and lowered her head again, her mouth wide open to receive his offering. Her lips closed over the head of Calvin's dick, and he gasped as she dived suddenly and, incredibly, swallowed the whole thing to the root. For a moment she clung there, and he could feel her throat quivering and constricting around the head of his cock as she fought against gagging. Then her head rose again, and her lips clutched tightly around the shaft as she worked her way back to the top and began to bob rhythmically up and down, up and down, her tongue stabbing and rubbing busily all the time at the fleshy underside of his tool. Spurred on by the sensations produced by Neil's tongue probing and flicking at her cunt, she wrapped her left hand around the lower third of Calvin's cock and screwed it rapidly, round and around, her fingers sliding easily over the saliva-slick shaft as she continued to suck and slaver over the upper end. Calvin lay back and closed his eyes, giving himself up completely to her expert attentions. This lady really knew her stuff. She purred like a cat as she worked on him, the vibrations deep in her throat adding a new dimension to the sweet agony of the sensations produced by lips and tongue. Calvin looked at the TV, found that the girl had turned over and the guys had changed ends, but everything was still pretty much the same. Slurp, suck. Shove, push, grunt. Susana lifted her head from his cock, pushed with her hand at Neil's head between her legs. "Fuck me," she said, and he slid out and got to his feet, flung his laplap aside and knelt between her calves. "No," she said. She looked up at Calvin. "YOU fuck me," she said. Neil got out of the way as she turned around to face away from Calvin, stretched the upper part of her body flat on the floor and pointed her bottom at him. Her cunt, swollen with desire, winked wetly. Calvin heaved himself to his feet, sliding the chair backwards out of the way, and knelt behind her. Susana reached between her legs, grasped his prick and guided it up to the portal. He knocked once, twice, then parted the curtains and worked the head of his cock into her cunt. He gave her a moment to get used to the enormity of him, grunted with pleasure as her muscles contracted and clutched tight around his glans, then grabbed her by the hips and shoved himself all the way into her. Susana bit her lip, clawed at the carpet with her fingers and whimpered softly in time to Calvin's thrusting as he settled into a long, steady stroke, in, out, in, out, in, out, pushing deeper into her with every fresh assault. She looked up and reached for Neil, pulled him down on to the floor in front of her, his legs stretching down either side of her body and his crotch directly beneath her head. He lay flat and humped his hips as she fed his cock into her mouth and began to pump, making soft, wet, slurping noises with each downstroke. Push, push. Suck, slurp. Susana gripped Neil's hips and pumped faster and deeper as Calvin's giant cock kept up its regular stroking of her tightly-stretched pussy. She was hot with passion and exertion, and rivulets of perspiration were running off her back and down her sides, tickling her breasts and dripping off her nipples. A squeal from the TV made her glance up at the screen for almost the first time since Neil had switched it on. The girl was on her back, her bottom raised and her hands holding her knees up to her chest. Her mouth was open in what might have been pain, ecstasy or a combination of both, and one of the guys was wedging his cock into her anus. Susana shivered as she watched the big rod draw back, then press deep inside the girl, who thrashed her head and tugged wildly at the other guy's tool. She lifted her head from Neil's dick, watched panting as Rear-End Charlie plunged his cock time and again into the girl's bottom. "I've never done that," she gasped. "I want to try it now." Calvin stopped in mid-stroke, raised his eyes to the screen and saw what she was talking about. "No you don't," he said. "It hurts." To emphasize his point, he drew almost all of the way out, then jerked her backwards and rammed brutally into her. Susana gasped again, blinked back tears of pain and found that the agony only intensified her arousal. "Yes," she said. "I want it. Do it. Fuck me in my arse. Do it." Calvin considered. He didn't want to hurt her, and he wasn't really into bum-stuffing anyway. Susana drove back against him, cramming herself to the limit with his cock, craned her head over her shoulder to look back and up at him. "Do it," she said again. "I want it. Do it now." She looked back at the screen, fascinated by the sight, in close-up, of the guy hauling his dick from the girl's rectum, then working it back in and burying it in her up to the hilt. "Do it," she said. "Please. Do it. Stick it in my arse." Calvin gave in. "All right," he said. "But it's gonna hurt. Don't say I didn't warn you." He slipped a thumb down the cleft between her cheeks and prodded at her little brown bottom-hole. It tensed, then relaxed, and his thumb sank in halfway to the first joint. Susana, still impaled on his cock in her cunt, wriggled impatiently. "Do it," she said. "I want it now!" Calvin allowed his thumb to slip in a further centimetre or so. "I need some grease," he said. "Got any KY Jelly?" Neil propped himself up on his elbows. "Funny you should ask," he said. "Just a minute." He rolled out from under Susana, went into the bathroom and was back in about 20 seconds. "Here," he said. Calvin took the tube, unscrewed the cap, and dribbled jelly down the cleft. It was cold, and Susana flinched. She reached for Neil's leg, urged him back to his former position and dived back on to his cock as Calvin worked the jelly around and into her virgin bottom-hole with his thumb. He pressed again at the entrance, and this time his thumb slipped in easily all the way. Susana wriggled again, clamped tight on his thumb and sucked hard at the cock in her mouth. Calvin withdrew his thumb, applied more jelly and then pulled his dick from her cunt.He squeezed still more jelly onto his shaft, spread it over the head of his cock, and pressed the tip to the target. "You do it," he said. Susana, still slurping at Neil's prick, pushed back against the pole at her rear entrance. Nothing happened. "Relax," said Calvin. She unclenched her anal muscles, pushed back again. The pressure increased, became suddenly too great, and the tiny hole yawned hugely, engulfing the head of his cock. Calvin was right. It HURT. Susana felt as if she was being torn open, but she was past the point of no return. Again, she pushed, and the giant tool bored its way into her. Groaning with combined pain and passion, she pushed again and was almost surprised when she felt her buttocks fetch up against Calvin's crotch. She raised her head from Neil's cock, panted: "Now. Fuck me. Hard." Calvin grasped her hips to steady himself, pulled out slowly until only the head of his cock was still inside her. He dripped on more jelly, spread it around his shaft with his fingers, then pushed it in, slowly again, as far as he could. The pain was exquisite. Susana dived back onto Neil's cock and sucked it savagely as Calvin settled into a steady rhythm. Previously unheard-of nerve-endings woke up, sent messages to her brain that caused tiny explosions in her head. Calvin fucked faster, deeper, and the separate explosions merged together in a blinding flash as he pushed her over the edge into an orgasm that was more intense than any she had ever experienced. She screamed, the sound muffled by the meat in her mouth, bucked and plunged against Calvin as they climaxed together and she felt his juice squirting out of her and dribbling down over her recently vacated cunt. Sparks danced in front of her eyes, great spasms shook her body, and she almost fainted under the sheer force of the sensations pouring from her tortured bottom. Then it was over, and there was just the sting of an over-stretched anus. She jerked herself off Calvin's prick, lifted her head from the cock in her mouth, and rolled on to the floor. She fingered her aching bottom, looked at Calvin and giggled. "You," she said, "are a pain in the arse." Calvin shrugged. "I told you," he said. Then: "Don't go away. I haven't finished with you yet." He got to his feet and walked into the bathroom. Beside her, Neil sat up, leaned across and caressed her cheek. "How do you feel?" he asked. Susana giggled again. "Fucked," she said. "And sore." She took his arm, pulled him down to her and kissed him. "Suck me," she said. He rolled on to his knees, placed a hand either side of her hips, and lowered his head to her cunt. Susana reached for his cock, milked it slowly as his tongue lapped at her clitoris and dipped into her vagina. Gradually, the pain in her bottom subsided, and she began to respond to the gentle probing of Neil's tongue in her pussy. She worked her free hand under his chin, parted and stretched her labia with her index and middle fingers to improve his access, panted with pleasure as he licked and nibbled at her clit. She tugged more urgently at his tool, was about to pull him into her mouth when Calvin returned. He tapped Neil on the shoulder. "My turn," he said, and Neil rolled out of the way. Calvin knelt behind Susana's head, leaned forward and spread her legs wide apart, trapped them by placing his hands on the floor behind her thighs, and dipped his head to her crotch. His tool dangled limply over her face, smelling faintly of soap. Susana wrapped her arms around his back and raised her head to take him into her mouth. Even in its limp state, his prick was enormous, and she had to stretch her mouth wide to accommodate it. She sucked at the tip, drawing him deeper into her mouth as he drove his tongue into her cunt. Calvin worked his knees apart and lowered his hips to make it easier for her, and Susana purred with satisfaction when his cock began to stiffen again between her lips. He moved his hands from between her legs, slid them under her buttocks and pulled her cheeks apart, then slipped one finger into her cunt and another into her bottom, and frigged her while his tongue ran lazy circles around her clit. His cock throbbed in her mouth, became fully erect, and he began slow rooting movements with his hips. Susana cuddled him tighter around the waist, hauled her shoulders off the floor and gobbled at his cock until it was deep in her throat and his pubic hairs were tickling her lips, then flopped back and let him fuck her mouth. Calvin's busy fingers and tongue continued to stoke the fire in her crotch, and suddenly she was coming again. She threw her legs up and trapped his head between her thighs, her whole body shaking and her mouth working frantically on his cock as she climaxed. The juice factory in her cunt overloaded, gushing creamy fluid over Calvin's invading fingers. Calvin's teeth nipped softly at her clitoris, and she climaxed again. Then she was pushing at his chest, urging him off. He resisted for a moment, then lifted his head and pulled his dick from her mouth, rocked back on his heels and tweaked her nipples. He looked up at Neil, signaled with his eyes. Neil stepped between her outflung legs, knelt and lifted them onto his shoulders, and fitted his cock into her cunt. Still playing with her breasts, Calvin bent his head to hers and worked his tongue into her mouth. Susana fought for breath, flung her arms around his neck and kissed him back as Neil began a steady thrust and retreat, thrust and retreat. After Calvin, she thought his cock would be comparatively insignificant, and was a little surprised that her cunt was still able to grip him tightly. She reached between Calvin's legs, tugged his tool in time with Neil's thrusting, and sucked at his tongue. Neil was beside himself with lust after watching their sixty-nine performance. He humped furiously, churning the juice in her cunt to cream and gasping for breath as the ache in his crotch contracted to a searing pinpoint of white heat and he exploded inside her, jet after warm jet of sperm pouring from his plunging, twitching cock. Susana writhed beneath him, came again, her cunt clutching convulsively around his tool. Finally, drained of both semen and energy, shaking his head to clear the red fog from his eyes, he slumped against her upraised legs, then drew back and allowed his softening tool to slip out of her. Sperm bubbled out of her cunt as he lowered her legs to the floor, hauled himself to his feet and collapsed panting in the armchair. Susana, her mouth still glued to Calvin's and still pumping his cock with her left hand, took her right hand from behind his neck and explored her sopping slit, squeezed out another shuddering climax and lay still. She felt thoroughly satiated, ready to roll over and go to sleep. But Calvin wasn't finished. He lifted his mouth from hers, stood up and pulled her to her feet, facing him. Then he put his big hands under her armpits and lifted her effortlessly into the air. Instinctively, Susana raised her legs and wrapped them loosely around his waist, then cried out in sudden pain and triumph as he dropped her with deadly aim and impaled her on his cock. Susana locked her hands behind Calvin's neck and leaned back. He moved his hands to her seat, lifted her again, dropped her again. Lifted, dropped, lifted, dropped, lifted, dropped, and she cried out each time his massive tool tore into her vitals. It was agony, it was pure ecstasy, and in moments she was once again on the verge of orgasm. Calvin turned, stepped past Neil in the armchair and carried her to the table, laid her flat with her buttocks poking over the edge. He was panting, not from exertion but from the nearness of his own climax. "Now," he said, "enough of this fucking about." He pulled back until only the very tip of his cock was still in her cunt, tensed his hips and crashed into her. For the second time, Susana screamed. She flung up her legs, thrashed about on the table-top and tried to push him away. He was not to be stopped. Again, he plunged his huge cock into her, again, and again, and again. Susana tried to beg him to stop, but the only words that came were: "Yes. Oh, yes. Fuck me. Kill me. Fuck me." Calvin battered into her, the force of his thrusting driving her back across the table. "Yes," she cried. "Kill me. Fuck me." She pounded on his bottom with her feet, arched her back and clawed at the table, came in a series of shuddering spasms that left her weak and shaking. Calvin jerked himself from her cunt, pressed the base of his tool hard against her crotch and came too, sperm arcing through the air and splashing as high as her breast. Another spurt, almost as powerful. And another. Susana was drenched in sperm. It trickled off her belly, down her sides, dripped on to the table. Calvin worked his cock back into her cunt, shoved two or three times for good measure, then pulled out of her and stepped back. "Now," he said, "where's the beer?"

FM+M

Part 2 of 16/17 from Oh, Susana

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/18013.txt

[removed at request of author]

Keri's request ch 3a

"Are You Sure You're a Whore?" ...So what HAVE you done in the past?... So now a week has gone by since the little escapade at the ski lodge. Was I turning my ex's head? Not anything that I could see. So what the hell? Keri has a better body than I expected, she is REALLY into sex, and I don't have too many offers beating down my door... "Not right now," Keri was mumbling as she squirmed under my 'study break' back rub, "this is due tomorrow morning." Hey boys and girls, have you seen this picture? She had about ten problems due in one of the classes we attended together. I forget; maybe statics, or thermodynamics, or fluid flow. Whatever it was, I had done the homework, knew the answers, and was trying to help her out. It can't be said that Keri didn't give her all to whatever it was, whether it be running, schoolwork, or fucking! So here I am giving her a back rub as I look over her shoulder, alternating glances at the problem on her paper and the amount of cleavage showing under her loose college sweatshirt. "So doesn't this feel nice? Hmmm..." "Yeah, but you know I have GOT to get these done," she pleaded, but her conviction was leaving with the tension in her shoulders. "Look, just relax," I purred in her ear as my fingers slipped further and further down the front of her chest. I would apply just enough pressure with my fingers into her upper chest that by drawing my fingers back and up, the tension of her skin would drag her breasts upward with my fingers, sensually raking the sensitive nipples up and down against the rough inner fabric of the shirt. She really couldn't say I was playing with her breasts because my fingers never went lower than just below her collarbone. Just because it felt good, don't blame me. "Hey, look," my words would drift between one ear and the other as I passed my lips just behind her head, playing my hot breath against her neck. "I've finished the problems. You're welcome to copy mine. And look, you've already done six, and are getting really fried. Take a break and come back to it..." "You're right," she murmured as her head hung forward and she pulled her hair up on to the top of her head with both of her hands. I continued to knead her shoulders, and gradually began to work my lips along the back of her neck. I wasn't really kissing, but letting my lower lip drag and scrape across her skin. My hands moved out onto the muscles of her outer shoulders and I would grip and pull at her upper arm. "Mmmmm...." My hands alternated between her neck, shoulders and arms for the next few minutes. As I began to lightly bite, my hands worked their way between her shoulder blades and down her back. Using my thumbs along her back, I let the other four fingers of each hand work around the sides of her torso, occasionally brushing the sides of her free-hanging breasts (Keri seemed to have a personal aversion to wearing bras - lucky me!). A small nudge from the side or a rough pull on her torso would cause them to swing back and forth under the shirt, again rubbing the erect nipples against the fabric. My hands snaked down to the small of her back and I would dip my thumbs into the area between her pants and her upper ass cheeks. I would stretch her tight silk panties out just enough to insert my thumbs and rub at the tired muscles. My fingers were wrapped around her small waist and pressed into her hard stomach. Continuing to bite along her neck, I worked both hands around to her stomach. I would first trace my fingers under the elastic waist of her panties to the front, just touching the first hint of downy hair, and then draw them upwards until they would graze the bottom of her breasts. Sliding them to the sides I would again move my hands down, down until they again entered the very tops of her Levi's and then back to the tummy and up. My thumbs would slide higher and higher with each path, pushing the soft mounds of her breasts upwards, and as they slid to the sides, the weight of the breasts would cause them to fall quickly down, pumping more sensation into the already over-stimulated nipples. "Let's go to my room," she whispered as her hands left her hair and reached back to me, pulling my head harder into her neck. We stood up from the kitchen table we were studying at, locked together as one. As we rose, I ground my hips against her ass, making sure she could feel the tip of my cock slide up the crack as my hands finally moved up her tummy and each one grabbed the full breast. I rocked my hips against hers as she pressed back, and squeezing her breasts harder with each grind as I began to manipulate her nipples. "Fuck the bedroom," I said as I dragged my fingertips down her torso and quickly unzipped her jeans. I placed one hand on her shoulder blades and the other at her groin and roughly shoved her forward. She bent at the waist and stopped her forward momentum with a grunt, placing her forearms on the splayed paperwork and books. As I tugged her jeans down around her ankles she started to protest, "what about my roommate?" My answer was to quickly bite and nip at her legs as I traced my way up to her panty-covered ass. A quick tug and these followed the jeans to her ankles. Biting harder and harder at her ass I pushed my thumbs deep into the muscles, working them in circles slowly to the outside. This had the effect of a deep muscle massage on her ass, sore from her daily runs, and had the benefit of briefly spreading her ass cheeks with each circle to the outside. Bent over as she was, with all the lights in the room on, and my eyes only inches from her ass, I had my first good look at her puckered asshole and puffy pussy. I made a mental note that all the hair would definitely have to leave if this 'relationship' went on much longer. I'm not a fan of hairy women, and she had more than most I had seen. Thank God it was not really curly and very, very soft. I suspected that she had a submissive streak running through her, so I might as well find out right now. "Spread your legs," I growled between bites and massaging. She struggled to comply, the panties and pants constricting her. I gave her a few seconds, and then SMACK! I slapped the inside of her thigh, an inch below her pussy, as I told her to spread them wider. "I can't," she seemed to whimper, at the same time struggling harder to break loose of the jeans. SMACK! Another slap, this time closer to her cunt. "Open your legs if you want more," this time the order louder. She put more of her weight onto her arms and arched her back. This caused her back to lower and she was able to squat more, opening her legs and causing her pussy to flower obscenely open before my eyes. I roughly reached between her legs but was careful not to brush her clitoris. I made sure my quick movements would pinch her pussy hair between my fingers and the skin of her thighs as I moved them back and forth. This caused the hair to be pulled from her pussy lips, reminding her it was there. Later, days or weeks later, when I had done more of this physical "reminding", I would subtly mention her pussy hair. Slowly I would tell her how attractive I thought shaved women were, putting the thought into her head that her hairy cunt was something to be ashamed of. My finger gripped the front of her crotch, reaching up towards her stomach, while my thumbs rubbed back and forth between her pouting pussy lips and the inside of her thighs. As in the pickup, I would only rub her lips, staying well away from her clitoris. My teeth nipped at her ass, especially the area where the ass became her thigh, that little beautiful place on a woman where her cheeks tuck under and there is that little crease. My thumbs began to circle out with each run up and down the length of her lips, spreading her outer lips and causing her inner lips to open. Her pink insides would wink at me, showing me how wet she had become these past few minutes. I quickly stood up and pulled her up to me. Her face turned over her shoulder towards me. I mauled one of her breasts through her shirt as my other fingers lazily traced the outline of her lips. "Get in the bedroom," I growled in her ear as I let go of her breast and slowly drew my finger from the rear of her cunt to the front and over the hood of her clitoris. I turned and stalked into her room. As I went into her bedroom, I looked around her room, trying to sum up exactly what motivated this chick. It must have been laundry day because silk panties and brassieres seemed to decorate every available nail or hook in the walls. "Nice decorator," I leered at her as I hung one of her skimpier pair of panties from my outstretched finger."I didn't think you would mind," she said, entwining her body around me, sans clothes. She must have left them in the bathroom or living room before following me into the bedroom. I maneuvered her over to the bed, and unceremoniously we tumbled onto it. I quickly rolled onto my back, her laying over me, face down. Ever notice how some fighters like to lead with a certain step or feint before a punch? Well, I like to begin a heavy fuck from a certain position. Lying on my back, I slightly spread my legs. She draped herself over me, her left leg between mine, slightly cocked, and her right leg extending down my left side. She supported most of her upper body on her right elbow and forearm, her left arm laying across the top of my head. From here, I had unfettered access to every key point of her body. I began by slowly kissing her mouth, nipping at her puffy lower lip. From there, I kissed along her jawline, working my way to her ear, biting and pulling at her cute little lobe. My hands lightly skated across her body, slowly along the sides of her rib cage to start the goosebumps to standing, and then in towards the insides of her thighs, along the crack of her ass and up her spine. As my kisses made their way down her neck, I pushed her further up my body, bringing her breasts to my face. As at the ski resort, I began slow ministrations to her breasts, kissing all over their succulent surface, getting rougher as I went along. My hands began a slow kneading of her ass, alternately pushing her cheeks together and roughly pulling them apart. As my tongue and teeth worked Keri's erect nipples more urgently, my fingernails began to scrape their way along her ass, inner thighs, and outer pussy lips. After about a half hour of this, I decided to test her willpower. "Go take a shower." "Wha'? Why, do I smell bad?" she began to apologize, looking away in shame. "Not at all," I said, squeezing her breasts harder than I had anytime previously. She gasped as I forced them together and alternated between each nipple, sucking so hard her nipples would have had hickeys if they weren't rose-colored already. "I want to see you come out of the shower, dripping water, your hair plastered to your neck. I love the smell of a woman fresh from the shower - pink skin so clean from the soap and shampoo. "Wear this when you come out," I said as I grabbed her favorite flannel shirt from the back of her computer desk chair and flung it at her. "Yes, Sir!" she said with a half-salute and a chuckle, and turned back to her walk to the bathroom. After I heard the water start and the shower door slide closed, I started my explorations of her room. First, I found where the candles were, lighting three around the room. Combined with the light streaming through the curtain from the street lamp outside, they would provide plenty to see every inch of what I was playing with. Next, I went through her small collection of compact discs. Selecting Tangerine Dream, I placed it in the player and adjusted the volume. She had some massage oil on the nightstand near her bed, so I took this into the kitchen and set it into a cup of hot water. Bringing this and a kitchen towel back into the bedroom, I heard the shower turn off and the glass door slide open. As Keri entered the room, I was waiting for her. Her eyes had not adjusted from the brightness of the bathroom to the relative darkness of the bedroom. She didn't see me as I stepped from her side and grabbed her shoulders, pulling her to me and then forcing her up against the wall. I glued my mouth to hers as my hands roamed her tight body, not letting any crevice or furrow go unexplored. Just as she started to buck her hips against my hand and she broke her kiss to turn her mouth to the side for more oxygen, I let her go and walked over to the bed. "Come here," I said as I sat on the edge of her silk comforter. She straddled my lap facing me, the flannel shirt hanging open down the middle of her body. Hiding just enough of her breasts to be enticing, it showed enough to easily keep my attention. I applied kisses and nips to her neck as my hands began squeezing her ass. I scooted back onto the bed, and she came with me. She ended up kneeling over me, looking down at me as she pushed her hair up onto the top of her head. "You like my hair wet like this, don't you," she asked as she let it fall around her neck. She dropped forward, her hands on either side of my head, and she began to work her head in circles, causing her hair to slide across my face and chest. "Yes," I growled, pulling her chest towards my waiting mouth. She again assumed the position I favor so much. When Keri was again grinding her hips into my hand, asking for my fingers inside her, I had some more in store for her. "Get up," I whispered in her ear. She must have thought I was going to undo my pants, as she knelt over me. "No," I said, "get off of the bed." She looked puzzled, but did as I asked. Keri was beginning to trust me, I could see, as whenever she did what I asked, she seemed to experience pleasure. I stood up beside her. She moved to embrace me, but I gently pushed her away. "Lie on your stomach," I ordered. I reached for the bottle near her headboard, and taking the massage oil, I poured a generous amount into my cupped hand. She did as I commanded, crossing her arms and resting her head on them, facing the wall. I poured this into the small hollow in her lower back, and feeling this, she froze, because any major movement would spill the oil onto her beautiful bedspread. "Don't turn around, Keri," I said as I slipped my shirt over my head, then my pants down. Finally, I was naked and slid onto the bed and her. I straddled her upper thighs and began to slide the oil up her back and down her arms. When I had generously coated her back, I began a slow massage, working from the very tip of her tailbone and deep in her ass muscles to the wet hairline on her head. Completing this, I turned to her legs, starting at her feet. I grabbed more oil and slathered it onto her legs. Beginning with the bottoms of her feet, I worked my way up her ankles, her calves, and her thighs. Slowly I began to knead the insides and back of her thighs, and reaching up, I would press deeply into her ass, spreading and closing them. Kneeling between her slightly spread legs, I could see her puffy pussy lips push out from each other, the wetness glistening in the candlelight. SMACK! The inside of her thigh shivered as I told her to spread her legs wider. "You've never had someone massage your ass and pussy, and it not be sexual," I asked her. "No," Keri replied in a dreamy sort of voice. My thumbs worked their way up her inner thighs, over her fat and blood-engorged lips and just to the outside of her puckered little asshole. Definitely the hair will have to go! She started to buck her hips. SMACK! "Don't move," I commanded, taking my hands from her body. When she subsided, I began to rub again at her pussy and ass. A few more iterations of slaps to her ass and thighs, one very close to her cunt lips, and she began to relax and just enjoy the massage for what it was. After about an hour of Tangerine Dream and a full-body massage, I was ready to move on. As she seemed to be half-dozing in her bliss, I knelt up and delivered a sharp slap to her ass, enjoying the way the hard muscles only allowed the cheek to quiver for an instant. "Done!" "Hmm. That felt sooo good," she murmured as she ran her fingers through her hair and looked over her shoulder at me. Looking down my body, she saw my half-erect cock. Looping a leg over my body, she turned to face me, sitting directly in front of me. She scooted forward and bent over at the waist, bringing her lips to the tip of my cock. "My turn," she growled as she lightly ran the tip of her tongue up and around the head of my cock. I watched her mouth as she then pursed her lips, sucking in her cheeks and bobbing her head along the length of me. I could see that what so many guys had bragged about being a great blowjob was not going to be anything special. I let her work at me for a minute or two before reaching under her arms and pulling her up to me for a long kiss on the mouth. "Don't worry about me," I whispered in her ear, "just enjoy what I'm doing to you." She seemed to look a little hurt, as you could see that she was used to most guys doing the usual kiss-finger-blow me bitch! routine. Once someone begins to believe that this is what a person wants and expects, they seem to think there is not anything else out there. So much to teach, and so little time! I pushed her back into the pillows and started to kiss and suck my way to her breasts. This time I only spent a few minutes on her breasts before working my way lower. Gathering her skin between my teeth, I would lightly apply pressure until I knew she could feel just the first inkling of pain. Then moving lower, I would kiss and lick and then repeat this. Finally, I came to the very start of her silky brown pussy hair. Lightly pulling this from her with my teeth, I could see her body react as the pain grew. I caused more pain with the hair than the skin. I was trying to reinforce to her the shame she should feel for such a shaggy pussy. Her body language told me this seemed to be working. Quickly moving on, I kissed lower, and then veered around the hood of her clit and down the insides of her thighs. Drawing her leg up with my right arm, I would alternate with drawing the tip of my tongue right to the edge of her pussy lips and then away. Her muscles quivered, and I could see her hands start to move towards my head before she would grip the bed cover until her knuckles turned white. "Oh God! Please, please," she moaned between clenched teeth. "'Please' what?" I asked her, my mouth a scant half inch from her cunt, my breath moving over her clit."Please kiss me there," she moaned louder. "There?" I teased as I kissed the inside of her thigh, a good six inches from her pussy. "You know where," she said, seeming to become almost angry. "Well, if you are going to get upset, maybe I should stop," I said, pushing my way up as if to back away. "No! Just please stop teasing me," Keri pleaded, looking right into my eyes. Her hands came up to my neck, lightly pulling me towards her wet pussy. "Ask nicely for what exactly you want." "Please kiss my... lips." "Not good enough. Be specific. Don't worry with me Keri, and don't become embarrassed. Tell me exactly what you want. I enjoy it when you ask." "Please - kiss - my - pussy." "There, that wasn't so bad, now was it," I teased as I lightly planted a kiss directly on her clit. Her eyes squeezed shut and the muscles on her neck stood out as I drew the tip of my tongue from the very bottom of her slit to the hair on her mound. I continued to lick from the back to the front, gradually increasing the pressure, forcing her lips apart and my tongue further inside her moist cunt. As I forced my tongue deeper inside of her, my rough five o'clock shadow would begin to grate its way up her puffy outer lips and inner thighs. Ending at her clit, I began to suck it between my teeth, forcing it against my teeth with my tongue - much like how I played with her nipples. Eventually I stayed at her clit, alternating with cat-licking-the-cream licks to her clit and rough assaults with my teeth. As she began to develop a steady rhythm against my mouth, I insinuated first one, then two, and finally three fingers into her cunt. "Don't stop...uhhh....yeah....yeah..." I was being very aggressive with her clit, fairly buzzing it against my upper front teeth with my tongue, rolling it back and forth in time with the deep thrusts of my three fingers. Her hips began to lift from the bed and her fingers entwined in my hair, pulling me against her with the rhythm of her thrusting hips. Her breath was coming out in ragged gasps. I glanced up at her as she sounded as if she was crying and sobbing. I saw tears streaming down her face and landing on her heaving breasts. As she neared her climax, I casually moved my thumb so that it rested against her tightly puckered anus. In her thrashing and concentration on the feelings in her pussy, I doubt she could even feel it. As her orgasm crashed over her, I felt the familiar pulsing of her muscles in her cunt, and how they were amplified in her rectum. As she would squeeze her legs against the sides of my head, breathing in great gasps, her anus would contract and relax. I let my fingers and thumb withdraw as she began to relax and her breathing became steadier. Now she began to push my mouth away from her pussy. "Please...please...no more," Keri gasped out. As I pulled away from her, I couldn't resist blowing across her cunt, the lips lying open to my gaze. She shivered and sucked in her breath, pushing harder against my shoulders. "No more, please!" I knelt up and turned her onto her side and spooned my body behind her. She continued to sob and when I asked if she was all right, she informed me that she was perfectly fine. When she came, she always seemed to cry. I held her as the sobbing subsided. "Just lay here for a while. Don't worry about that homework. I'll make sure that I give you mine and you can copy it first thing in the morning." "Thanks. I'm sorry you didn't have as much fun as I did." "What do you mean?" I asked, knowing full well what she was talking about. "You didn't cum. But thank you. Most guys seem to only want 'Wham, bam, thank-you Ma'am!'" "Well, I'm not most guys." Kill 'em with kindness! Am I evil or what? "If you want, let me rest a few minutes and I'll take care of you," she said over her shoulder, working her ass against my crotch. "That's okay," I said, plainly lacking enthusiasm. "What? Don't you like my sucking you?" she asked in a pained tone of voice. "It was okay," again with the same 'ho-hum' tone. Rolling onto her back, she looked at me as I traced my finger on her skin, propped up on one elbow. "You really don't like my blow jobs, do you? I've never heard any complaints," she said defensively. I could tell she was trying to boost her self-esteem. "Do you swallow?" I asked, looking straight into her eyes. "Yes. Some guys I really don't like the taste of, but it makes them happy." "Exactly." "What do you mean?" "You swallow. Who is going to complain to a woman who has a mouth full of his cum? But if you will look at the clock, you'll see we've been at this for almost four hours. And you just now came. So do you think a good blow job is just sliding your head up and down my dick until I come in your mouth after a couple of minutes? If I wanted that, I could just do this:" And I began to slowly stroke my cock as it grew harder. I watched her eyes as she looked at it swell and grow. Obviously, she had never seen a man masturbate before from the look of surprise on her face. And she was the so-called slut? No wonder she couldn't suck a good dick or tell a man what to do. It was written in her whole being from how she walked to talked to applied herself to schoolwork. Men had always come into her life, literally, and then gone right back out. And she didn't understand why. I let my hand drop again to her flat tummy, stroking my fingers up and down her. "I'll leave my homework on the table," I said as I gathered the blanket around and over her. Kissing her on the top of the head, I gathered my clothes and quickly dressed. "I'm sorry," she whispered as I softly shut the door on my way out.

Chapter 3a

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/9498.txt

Roadrunner

Slave Teacher

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

V.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/9938.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 a high 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-factly. 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 run-of-the-mill 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, then doing exactly that. His cloak 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 hard-on 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 butt crack. "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 kind of 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.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 shudders 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," 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 going to 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 steadying 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 finger tips.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?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. I fought my retching sensations again as Joey bent me over and began licking his cum from my ass. But during the course of Joey's sucking my ass, I again lost my displeasure and ended up aiding his efforts to get every last bit of his jism out of my ass by pushing my shitting muscles. After nearly an hour and a half of sex, Joey finally called it quits and we both collapsed into the tub. I sat against the tub's side with Joey laying on his back between my spread legs, feeling the exhaustion of a long day while our breathing started to slow down. "My mouth is going to be really sore tomorrow," Joey said sleepily. "So are my legs," I thought out loud, feeling them already getting stiff. Joey closed his eyes and said, "When I had to do these things to Steven, I didn't care that he didn't do them to me. All I wanted was to please him. The fucking bastard never even kissed me." Joey paused a moment, then looked over at me and said, "I guess what I'm trying to say is, even if you never do those things to me... I know you love me." Then he grabbed the side of the tub and got out, then held his hand out towards me and said, "Let's go, partner. We can have you falling asleep in here when we're paying by the hour." "Shit. You're certainly are a cheap fuck," I said grinning and taking his hand. Over the course of the following week and a half, I subjected myself to Joey's tongue and dick fucking my ass, each time finding it a little easier to relax and let him do his thing. He always started out as loving as he had the first time, and that's probably how he talked me into fucking his mouth a few times. On the twelfth visit to the motel room, I knew Joey had been right about me eventually wanting to do those things to him. I felt horrible about it, but I couldn't help but get excited about feeling his tongue seeking his freshly deposited cum from my ass. It wasn't until two days later that I realized I had crossed a line, and that only made me want to cross another one. A big one. That evening after our workout, we went to our usual room. As soon as the door was shut, I stepped behind him and began sucking on his sweaty neck while slipping my hands up the front of his shirt and feeling his hard muscular pecs and abs. "Joey.. It's time for my turn," I said, sending my hands down to his waist to begin lowering his shorts. "Oh God," Joey moaned as he shed his shirt. "I've wanted to hear you say that for so long..." Licking the sweat off his now bare back, I quickly got rid of my own shorts, then paused long enough to pull my shirt off while I turned him around to face me. I stared at his muscular teenage body, seeing the lust in his eyes, the sweat on his chest, the bulging throbbing meat between his legs, and I felt no displeasure, no feeling of wrongness, nothing holding my love and lust from doing what I knew he wanted me to do so badly. That's when I understood the truth of what my love was. I didn't want his male body. I wanted him. The love I had for him or anyone else was not gay or bi or straight. It was just love, and there was no greater attraction to have. I knew the truth. To love him was to love all of him. To kiss him I had to kiss all of him. From his head, to his toes, from his dick, to his ass, I swore I would taste every square inch of his body. I pledged to swallow as many of his bodily fluids as he would share with me. For there was nothing... NOTHING about his male body for me to find disgusting anymore. It was only the shell which carried the soul of whom I knew was my playmate, my companion, my friend, my bodyguard, my advisor, my lover, and yes.. My soulmate. As I stepped into his arms, our tongues reached out of our open mouths to touch before they were even within reach, our eyes shutting as our oral muscles slid past each other to dive into the welcoming home of the other. My hands rediscovered the feel of his nicely defined muscles, finding every inch of his skin still hot and wet from our jog. Our cocks were struggling to embrace each other as we sucked each other's mouths of their spit, our hands never once stopping to rest as we tried press more and more of ourselves against the other's sweaty skin. When Joey broke our mouths apart gasping for air, I refused to stop for anything as trivial as oxygen, and began giving hickeys on his neck and chest. I devoured his manly nipples and breasts, cleaned his slick stomach, tongued and sucked out his hairy belly button, then sucked in the strand of precum hanging from the lips of his dick. As I began to use my lips and tongue on the head of his gorgeous cock, Joey gasped out, "Oh God, Tim. Oh fucking God!" I was using the end result of two years of getting blow jobs from the twins, Suzi, and forty-three other girls of which I had stored the greatest aspects of each and every one of their techniques. Joey's head was rolling around as I slurped, licked, and sucked, then finally as his cock began to surge with its impending eruption, I prompted him to fuck my mouth like never before. Finally, I understood the attraction girls and women had to sucking cock. It was more than a fetish, more than an erotic thrill. There was a sense of power... no, that wasn't it really. Not power to control anyway. For all the male's strength and toughness, there was a sense of satisfaction in seeing how vulnerable and delicate we could become with so little work done. 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 shutters 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 the foamy spit from my mouth. 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."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 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/Year98/8375.txt

Wollstonecraft

Occupation or Marie's Hospitality

"Louis," she breathed, her voice trembling, "his hand is on my thigh." Louis looked across the table at the flushed face of his wife, sitting on the soldier's lap. "Yes, I thought as much," he replied flatly, raising his glass. Smiling thinly, he tipped it momentarily toward the stranger, then proceeded to drain it. As he lowered the glass from his lips, he saw that the soldier's glass was empty again. Louis refilled it, then filled his own. He poured the last of the wine into his wife's glass and put the empty bottle with the other two. "Marie," he muttered, "drink your wine." With a shaky hand, she reached for the glass. The soldier took it and put it to her mouth. The wine spilled over her lips and down her neck onto her breasts. The soldier bent his head and began to lap at the red liquid on her skin. She moaned softly. She moaned, "Louis, please make him stop. I, I am your wife." Yes, Louis thought, she was his wife. His virgin wife. Their marriage was not yet consummated. She would not let him bed her while the occupation continued. She said she would not risk bringing a child into a world ravaged by war. She pleasured him in other ways, but it was not the same, and they both prayed for the day she could free herself from her self-imposed chastity. With the arrival of the soldier, it seemed that day was to be soon at hand. "Please, Louis, he - Oh, Louis!" The soldier's lips pressed into her cleavage, and her breath grew quick. "We must offer him every hospitality, Marie. He wears the uniform of the liberation force." "He, he takes too many liberties, Lou - Oh, my!" The soldier's hand pressed upward along her thigh. "He, he - Oh, Louis, he touches - Louis! His fingers are on my - Oh, my Louis, please. He is so, so..." "We are indebted to him," Louis said, staring into his wine. "Just his being here is danger enough. Tomorrow he will go to a certain death. He will die for us, to give us our freedom. It is not just charity to allow him pleasure in his last hours, it is our duty and our honor. Your duty, Marie. Your honor." He looked up to see that Marie's blouse was undone and the stranger's hand kneading his wife's heaving breast. Marie understood that it was her honor that was at stake. "Louis, his touch makes my blood boil! Oh, Louis, I burn! I burn! Please, oh, please, I can't - Oh, God, oh! Oh!! His hand in my, stroking my - Oh! Oh!!" Her hips began rocking against his fingers as he pressed deep between the folds of her labia under her thick pantaloons, massaging her clitoris. The soldier pulled his head from Marie's breast, her nipple slipping wetly out from between his lips. He looked drunkenly at Louis. Louis smiled weakly. The soldier shrugged and grinned, then rose with Marie in his arms. She cried out, "No! Where are you -" When she realized his intention, she struggled vainly in his tight grasp "No!! Please, do not do this! Please, please, no! No!!" Carrying her squirming body, the soldier staggered across the tiny room. She wailed, "No!! Do not do this! Do not do this! Oh, God, please, please!!" He stood her next to the bed and buried his head in the hollow of her neck as he pulled the blouse off her shoulders. As the thin material fell to the floor, he removed his own shirt. "Ooh, Louis," she moaned, "his chest is so broad, so hard." Her back arched and her breasts ground tight against him. He slipped his fingers under the fabric of both her skirt and pantaloons. "No, don't," she whimpered as he slipped them down over her hips, exposing her fleecy curls. As he pulled downward his lips moved lower, taking her tight nipple in his mouth. "Oh, my God, my God," she moaned as he freed her legs from the last of her clothing, "oh, no, oh - Oh!" His teeth nipped at her taut, sensitive flesh. "Oh, please, Louis, please," she cried, "please don't let this happen!" She was totally nude before him now, and, raising to his feet, the soldier drank in her beauty. He growled softly, his hunger clear in his voice. The sound made her quiver. She begged, "Please, please, do not do this, do not take me, please do not, please!" The soldier lewdly growled again. She knew she begged in vain. Her words were as incomprehensible to him as his was to her. The soldier gently eased her back onto the bed. With one hand caressing her breasts, he undid his pants with the other. Her eyes grew wide. "My God," she cried, "My God! No!! No!! It is so big, my God, so big!! I couldn't, I can't take such a thing, such a - Not in - Oh, God, not in - No!! God, No!! No!!" Her husband was still at the table, watching the stranger take his wife. He'd opened a fourth bottle of wine and was intent upon emptying it. Marie looked at him beseechingly, her eyes begging him to intervene, to stop this man from stealing what should have been his. Louis drank deeply from his glass, then turned away. The soldier dropped to the bed and straddled her, crushing her into the mattress. He rocked up and down, grinding his body against hers, crushing her breasts against his chest. "Oh, God, oh, God, Louis, the hair on his chest makes my nipples burn! Oh, the hair on his belly inflames me so! And his - on my - Oh, my God, Louis, he presses himself so tightly to my - Oh, Louis, my puss is so wet! Oh, God, my puss is so wet, so open, so hot, so hot! It opens, oh, God, it opens!!" Taking his rigid shaft in his hand, the soldier positioned himself for entry. "Oh, no! No! He's put it between the lips of my puss, Louis! In the lips, oh, no, no, it's at the entrance and I am so wet, oh God, my puss's lips are opening to him, I - Oh! Oh!!" His arms around her, his hands clutching her shoulders, the soldier pulled her to him. "Louis!! He presses in, Louis, oh, God, it pushes in!! Ah! Uhh! Oh, God, it is going into my puss, into my puss, Louis!" He groaned as he felt himself being enveloped by her moist flesh. "Oh, God, Louis! It is so - oh, God, it is so big, so - Uhh!! Uhh!! It, it fills me so, so -" He lifted himself up, rising high above her. She looked down between them. "Oh, God, oh God, it's just the head, just the head, there's so much m - Oh!! Oh, God, so tight, so tight." He eased off momentarily. "Oh, it pulls out, it -" He pressed in again hard and she grunted from the force. "Ungh!! Oh, God, it's in me deeper, it - ah -" Again he pulled back slightly and again he pushed in. "Ungh!! So full, s - ah Ungh!!" His entry was halted as she felt the immense head pressed tight upon her hymen. "Oh, my m - oh, God, it it touches my maiden - ah - Oh!" She cried out as the hard presence throbbed against the sensitive tissue. He looked down at her questioningly, listening to the strange words. Her face was contorted in passion, her arms tight around him, pulling at him. He interpreted her vocalizations as cries of desire. He briefly glanced to Louis, who was trying desperately to drink himself into a stupor. The soldier returned to the pleasure at hand. The bloated flesh pulled back slightly, then pushed slowly, resolutely inward. "Ohh," she cried, "he pushing - push -" She felt his manhood pressing in painfully. "Uh, uh, uh -" She felt the tender barrier rupture and tear under the relentless assault. She screamed as the pain overtook her "Aaaah!!! Oh, God, it is past, it is past - Oh, God, oh, God, I am open, I am open!!" Her virtue split and breached, his shaft advanced into her with increased speed. "Ungh," she moaned, "oh, God, it pushes deeper, so much d - Oh!! So deep, so deep!!" She felt his belly press tightly upon her own, his wiry pubic hair enmeshing with hers. "Oh, God, Louis, he is in me, in me, oh God, he is in me!" He held himself tightly within her and her body reeled in the sensation. "Oh, God, Louis, I feel the blood coursing through his shaft, his ballsack quivering on my bottom."He is so deep in me. Oh, he moves. Oh! Oh!! The fullness slid within her tight channel, inflaming her passion. "Oh, it is coming out, out, so slow, so..." She felt herself close as it almost completely extracted itself from her. Then the soldier hammered his hips down. "Ungh!! God, such force, such force!" The base of his member ground into her pubic mound. The massive column pulled out again, and her hips drove down and back, grinding her clitoris sharply against the hard flesh as it moved. "Oh, so hard, so hard, so... Ungh!!" He slammed back in. "Oh, God, Louis," she cried as the soldier began to rhythmically thrust in and out, "it is so deep, so... I am so... it is... Oh, God, like fire in me, fire in me!!" She pushed up to meet each powerful thrust, trying to take more of him inside her. "Oh, Louis, I never... I didn't know it would... It is so... Oh, God, so full, so full, I am... Oh, God, I am burning, I am... Oh, God!! God!! Louis!!" Her body spasmed under him as she orgasmed, and he groaned above her as her sucking flesh clamped tightly onto his piercing lance. "God! God! I die! I die!" she squealed, driving herself up hard, taking as much of him into her as she could. Her legs rose and wrapped around his waist, her calves on his buttocks, scissoring and clutching in time with his increasingly rapid thrusts. She stared up at him and saw his eyes unfocusing, felt his buttocks tightening. "Oh, God, Louis! He grows tight, he is... Oh, no! Oh, no!! He mustn't... oh, God, Louis, he's going to..." He pulled at her, pulling her up into him, driving down into her savagely. "Oh, no! Oh, God, No!!" He began to grunt, stroking powerfully into her. "No, please," she wailed, "don't put your... don't make me..." His fingers tightened on her buttocks. "Oh, oh, God, it grows fatter in me, it... Oh!!" His back arched sharply and, with an animal grunt, he stabbed deep into her as his staff lurched fiercely, driving his potent semen flowing into her. "Oh, God, it throbs!! It throbs in me!! My God, he spurts inside me, in me, my God, he is spurting his seed into me, oh, God, oh, God!" She shook in orgasm, her vagina gripping the pumping shaft, sucking his sperm into her womb. "God, oh, God, I pull it in, I take it in, oh, his seed, his seed in me, oh, God, oh, God!!" His ejaculation was strong and immense. He instinctively understood that this was his last chance to spawn, and she instinctively understood that his great outpouring would root and thrive within her. "Oh, God, Louis, I can feel it! It streams into the mouth of my womb, so deep inside, so deep!! The surges, oh, God, he surges so! He fills me, oh, he fills me full, I drown in his seed, Louis, and he throbs and gushes still, oh, God, he fills my womb and his staff gushes still! So much, God, so much of his seed in me, oh, God, and more and still more!! He throbs so, oh, God, the throbbing, the throbbing in me, in me!! Oh, he fills me to overflowing, I can feel it running out of me and, oh, God, he gushes still, he gushes still!! Oh, God, Oh, God!!" With a final grunt, the soldier collapsed on top of her, his need finally drained. "Oh, God," Marie sobbed, "it twitches inside me still! Oh, the fluttering inside me, oh God, oh, God." As he lay on her, gasping for breath, his hips still spasming into her, she moaned, "Oh, God, oh, God, he put his seed in me, he put his seed in me. Does he know what he's done? Does he know he's put a baby inside me?" The soldier pulled himself up and off the bed. She sat up and shouted at him. "Do you know you've made me pregnant? Do you know I will bear your child?" He retrieved his pants and put them on. She cried, "Do you know what you've done? Do you?" The soldier said nothing as he buttoned his shirt and walked to the door. She raged, "Even now it grows inside me! Your child! Your child is inside me!" He didn't turn around as he left. "Your child is inside me!" She fell upon the bed and began to sob. "His child is inside me, his child is inside me." The words rang in her thoughts. It was her only solace as the fourth of the occupation soldiers grunted above her and she felt the now familiar pulsing of the cruel flesh stabbing viciously between her legs. The enemy had come not long after the stranger had left. In retreat, they came to seek shelter from the superior liberation forces. Louis had tried to protect her, but he was quickly killed. The only thought that gave her hope was that, if she survived the rape, she wouldn't bear the spawn of these monsters. She gave thanks to God that the seed of the stranger had taken possession of her fertility, denying it from these demons. In time, the liberators vanquished the enemy and peace reigned again. Marie's stomach swelled as she grew fat with the baby conceived during the dark days of war. She never saw the stranger again. She feared he was killed in regaining her country's freedom. She cherished the life inside her all the more. It was a hard labor that accompanied the birth. The midwife had never seen so large a baby borne from so small a mother, so was not too surprised when Marie initially recoiled from the sight of her newborn son. But she was surprised when Marie refused to suckle it, and all in the village were shocked when Marie abandoned the child at the orphanage. The midwife could never have guessed that it was the baby's fair skin color that had caused Marie to fall into a deep despair. Her heart sank as she realized that it wasn't the child of her brave liberator, after all, but that of one of the occupation rapists. The liberation soldier's skin was, after all, black.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/9823.txt

Andrew Roller

FUCK DECENCY 400 Passions Playpen NND g2

"Bring the strap. Our guest may prove unruly," Melinda said casually, brushing her hair back from her face as she spoke. Kate shivered and felt her bottom cheeks tense. John cupped her bare behind with his broad calloused palm and made her step into the tub. "Sit down. I'm going to bind your hands to the post so Melinda can wash you properly," John told Kate. She looked up at him. She was forced to huddle in the tub in a seated position, her bottom against the cold tin floor of the tub, with her knees drawn up to her chin. Her arms sought refuge from John's command by wrapping themselves around her legs. Kate interlinked her fingers in hopes of denying him. As easily as if plucking fruit from a branch, John reached down with his hands and plucked up Kate's. He lifted her hands over her and pushed them backward until they bumped against the post. Then he fastened each of her wrists into the steel manacles that were fixed to the post. Kate, not fighting him by trying to remove her hands from his, instead leaned forward and bit at his crotch with her mouth. His dick was quite visibly in his trousers, and she tongued at his zipper with her tongue and then caught it between her teeth. As he bolted her wrists to the post, she unzipped his pants. She delved between his opened zipper with her tongue, feeling the steel bits of the opened zipper scrape themselves against her tongue as she went exploring. She licked his cotton underpants. They were stiff with promise. John laughed as he felt what she was doing to him. Quickly he finished binding her. Then he opened his trousers and dug inside his underpants hole and presented Kate with his freed cock. Kate gasped at his size. He was as big as any man she'd encountered. She gave his pee hole a tentative lick with her tongue. Then, boldly, as if to scare him, she caught his big bulging penis head between her teeth and drew back her lips to let him see how her small pearly teeth held him so dangerously. But even as she lightly bit him, she could feel his girth and the blood pounding in his shaft, and she knew he was like an iron beam, barely feeling her little teeth as they tried to taunt him. So she licked his pee slit with her tongue again, and this, unlike the biting, produced a response in him. He sighed and seemed to grit his teeth, and for a moment, she felt scared that he might actually spill himself into her mouth. She looked up at him and watched his face as he recovered himself. Out of the corner of Kate's eye, she saw a large rotund woman dressed in an old-fashioned maid's outfit. She walked across the wooden floor carrying a leather belt. She held it out in front of herself by her fingertips, as if she were afraid of it or disapproved of the use it might be put to. "I trust the tea is satisfactory, ma'am?" the maid asked in a voice that showed her pride, despite her status. "I'm sure it will be, Eunice," Melinda answered. If the maid noticed that Melinda was completely naked, and that Kate was new and naked too, and that John had his penis between Kate's lips, the maid showed it not. Primly she turned upon giving Melinda the belt and walked back across the floor and up the cellar steps. She was quite fat, and Kate could hear her stockinged thighs rubbing together as she walked. Yet, lifting her dress slightly to keep it from brushing the steps, the maid walked with a certainty and a gracefulness that Kate envied. She was just a little college girl ensconced in an old tub, but the maid was a proud, matronly woman, who performed her duties well but obviously suffered no abuse from anyone. "Call if you need me, ma'am. I'll be walking the dog meantime," Eunice said without turning to look back at them. Kate watched the woman's girth disappear up beyond the top of the steps and she heard the cellar door open and close. "She does good work," John said absently to Kate. "The tea is always fresh, and she takes care of everything we don't want to bother with." As he spoke, he eased his cock out from between Kate's lips. She gave his penis a parting kiss on its tip. "Sit back and relax. I'll wash her," Melinda told John. He retreated to the pile of cushions and sat down on them. Leaning back, he lay like a Roman emperor, still dressed in his suit but with his penis out to take in the air. It stuck up like a scepter. Melinda took something from atop the bales of pot. Kate saw it brought into the light made by the flickering candles and saw that it was a camera. "Do you want to begin photographing her?" Melinda asked John. "Yes," John smiled. He took the camera from Melinda. He adjusted its knobs and its lens. "I don't want to be photographed!" Kate blurted. She tried to get up from the tub but found she'd lost her ability to, given that her hands were fixed to the post. "Oh, John's going to record every nuance of your emotions during your stay here," Melinda smiled. Her eyes glinted as John pointed the camera at Kate and set off its flash bulb. Kate's eyes were recorded in panic, her breasts bouncing on her chest as she tried, vainly, to rise from the metal tub she'd stuffed herself into. "You should be proud of the expense he's going to, just for you," Melinda said with a smirking smile. "The best soaps and the finest tea and fresh silk cushions for you to lie upon are all yours, because he considers you beautiful, even though you are just a girl starting college. And the expense he'll incur printing all those photos he's going to take of you! He hopes to recoup the cost, of course, charging quite a lot for a peek at you in your birthday suit, but it's a risk all the same, and he might lose his shirt, if men feel you don't suit them." John took photograph after photograph of Kate, catching her every gasp as she stared into his camera and then, blushing, tried her best to look away, all the while with her arms manacled above her and her breasts responding buoyantly to every one of her nervous sighs. Melinda walked over to her and began pumping the pump. John captured a shot of her bottom as she bent over the pump and worked its handle.Melinda's breasts dangled beneath her like ripe fruit, and Kate wished she could bite off Melinda's stem-like nipples. John caught another shot of Kate as the ice-cold water from the pump spurted and sloshed over Kate into her imprisoning tub. It came from deep within the earth, and Kate hoped there weren't any nightcrawlers breeding down in that deep underground well that fed her bath. The water was freezing, and Kate felt her nipples stand out even more protrudingly, as if that were possible. Yet the water, washing over her, felt cleansing too, washing away the sperm of the men who had loved her in Marie's evil 'game room.' Melinda bathed Kate lovingly. She lifted each of Kate's bosoms, using a sponge. She bent and teasingly kissed each of Kate's nipples before passing the soap-laden sponge over them. She washed between Kate's thighs, and John recorded Kate's apprehension as Melinda scrubbed Kate's pussy until Kate felt herself brinking on orgasm. Kate's arms were unshackled when it was time for her bottom to be bathed. Melinda smoothed her soft palm across its white, satiny surface. Kate suspected she'd feel something much less pleasant on her bottom before her visit with John and Melinda was over, but for the moment, her hiney was accorded the same luscious affection as the rest of her. Her legs were washed, and Melinda complimented their length and firmness. They were a little skinny, she told Kate, but in time her thighs would fill out. Kate was made to present her slit to Melinda, and the woman stuck a squeeze tube into her and douched her, John watching, photographing it all. Kate blushed deeply, knowing the tube must look like a prick upping its way into her, or growing out from her, but there was nothing she could do, and she was sleepy now from her long night, and she didn't resist. Melinda douched Kate's bottom too, for she could see that someone had spent himself in her there, leaving his seed behind to slowly ooze out of her. Melinda washed Kate's hair for her, using the shampoo and a bottle of conditioner that had been sulking behind the post, amidst a collection of rude upstanding dildos and a little pile of condoms. Kate wondered at the collection. No doubt some of the items would be put to use soon, but she had no control over when or why or how. Melinda rinsed her under the cold tap of the hand pump and then, holding her arm, she bade Kate to get out of the tub. Kate was dried with a soft towel, Melinda drying her as John took photos. Melinda made sure that in drying between Kate's legs and across her nipples, she rubbed enough to get Kate excited. Kate's slit pulsed with soft desire, and she longed to be made to sit on John's upstanding penis. He continued photographing her, catching each of her blushes and sighs. They took in tea and bagels, Melinda feeding Kate and herself as Kate was made to sit on the cushions with her hands newly handcuffed behind her. Kate didn't like this odd subservient, captive Queen role they'd planned for her, but there was nothing she could do about it. John was big and quite strong, and his biceps looked as if they might tear open the sleeves of his suit coat whenever he bent his arms. Meanwhile, sticking up through his elegant trousers stood his penis, obviously satisfied by what it saw. To Kate's surprise, her hands were unlocked after she'd been fed. She rubbed her wrists again. The cuffs had been tight and bothered her, but she'd not complained, for she felt a strange excitement at being forced to sit open-legged, Indian-style, with John able to see and photograph her moist slit. Now that her hands were hers again, she placed one of them over her pussy to see what denying a view of herself to John would provoke. "Yes, rub yourself. Let John photograph you rubbing yourself," Melinda told Kate. At first, Kate felt bashful, but she was quite aroused by how they treated her and, reluctantly, looking down at her naughty slit which so deeply wanted to be fucked, she rubbed it. She found her spot. She threw back her head and gasped loudly as she made herself totter up to the brink of orgasm. Then, just before she was about to cum, with Melinda playing with her own pussy as she watched Kate, the woman stopped herself and reached out and stopped Kate too. "That's enough," Melinda told Kate. "All is not just pleasure here. Anyone could see that by simply buying Penthouse. John photographs girls in all their moods." Kate sighed and wanted very much to play with herself some more, just the little more that was required, but she couldn't, for Melinda held her hand firmly and seemed ready to capture her other hand if Kate tried to use it to please herself. John, flash pulsing, captured Kate's mood as she shivered just out of reach of her orgasm. Kate's breasts heaved on her chest, and her nipples stood up like thorns. Her soft girlish belly sighed deeply. "Let's go upstairs," Melinda told Kate. "John and I collect fine antiques, and he'd get some nice photos of you if he let you see them." Up the stairs they went, leaving the cellar. Kate was made to go first up the steps. Melinda followed her. Instead of handcuffing Kate again, Melinda simply held Kate's wrists behind Kate's back, keeping them there with just the slightest pressure of her manicured fingers. Kate didn't resist. She was glad she could avoid the tight binding of the handcuffs. She wondered if Melinda watched her bottom as she walked up the steps, for it protruded behind her, on account of her arms being held behind her. She suspected Melinda watched the rolling of Kate's ass cheeks, and Kate gave them an extra wiggle as she mounted each step, just to show Melinda that despite her captivity, she was capable of a little teasing herself. John followed, snapping the occasional picture. He left his penis hanging out of his trousers. It was hard and erect and showed no sign of lessening in its ardor for Kate.

Chapter Seven

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/15246.txt

Donovan Edwards

A Little Christmas Cheer

"Huh? ... No, it's great, Kate," I lied. Actually, the dry crap in my mouth that passed for turkey tasted more like poodle shit that had been dried in the sun for a few days. After weeks of excuses and runarounds, I had finally been roped into going to Jim's house for the obligatory, annual Christmas get-together. Unlike everyone else, I wasn't a permanent employee. I was doing some consulting for the office and consequently spent much time there. I had heard too many horror stories about horribly boring conversations, devil-children, and the infamous 'Shitty' turkey to be looking forward to this gathering, and as expected, I would have had a much better time at home. After two grueling hours, I had filled up on eggnog and was looking for a way out. Not wanting to be the first to leave, I devised a plan: Leave ten minutes after the second person or group leaves. Sounded good enough. After the meal, I lolled around for a bit, sipping my nog and feeling quite relaxed. I took pleasure in jumping from one conversational circle to another. I have a special way of bullshitting my way through pseudo-conversations and getting quite a thrill out of making fun of everyone else. That's my specialty. Creative visualization is also my specialty. For the previous four months, the only pussy I'd gotten was Rosey Palmer and her five sisters, and that was often, very often. Sometimes I'd whack off five times per day just to keep the hard-on down. If I went a few days without snapping my carrots, my pork sword would be in a permanent state of stiffness and my balls would swell to the size of ripe California plums and hurt like hell. Soon, I became a master at mental masturbation. When I was relaxed enough, I could blow a hefty load without even touching myself! This kept my dick from being raw all of the fucking time and stopped the hair from growing on my palms. As the eggnog began to affect everyone, the conversation turned from work-blah-blah-blah, to shit that I actually LIKED to talk about: Computers, Music, Travel and other junk. I sat on the sofa and mentally fucked my female co-workers and my male co-workers' wives. I even porked Jim's wife while his 11-year-old daughter licked my nutbag. I sighed heavily as I dreamed of dumping a wad of goo in her 45-year-old snatch. I even boldly lifted his daughter's little party dress and sniffed her pre-pubescent cooz. Damn it smelled good! Like honey! Needless to say, by the time my co-worker Virginia and her dorkmeiser husband left, I was a huge ball of horniness. All of my fantasies had been rudely invaded by reality. Now, all I had to do is wait for the next person to leave and in ten more minutes, I could jump in my car and pull my dork all the way home. (I was a master at that as well. I can pull it in city traffic, or going Mach 1 on the highway. Sometimes my cum makes the steering wheel kinda slippery, but it's well worth it.) I watched Virginia walk out the door. Her attributes, or lack of, intrigued me. You see, Virginia is skinny. Very skinny. In fact, sometimes I'd watch her at the office and would compare her to a walking bag of bones. Her breasts were non-existent, and her body was, for lack of a better description, a straight line. No hips, no discernible waistline, and I'm still puzzled by the lack of breasts. When I fantasized about fucking her, I put her knees to her chest and pounded her hard until her back snapped like a twig. 1 Down, 1 Plus 10 minutes to go. I was putting odds on who would leave next. Obviously, it would be Beth. She was hanging all over her 'roommate' Keith. For as long as I could remember, she's been telling everyone that her and Keith share a platonic relationship and are just friends. I knew she was bullshitting from day one. As far as I know, neither of them have had a date since he moved in, so obviously, he's getting his heat from somewhere. Beth isn't that bad looking. If you looked at her from a distance, you could say that she's beautiful. But once you approach, the lines in her face betray her age, which I guess to be around 35. Still, she has an OK set of hips and handfuls of flesh on her chest that pass as boobs. For some reason, when I thought of fucking her, she was always leaning over, typing something. The squishing sounds of my dong being drowned out by her clanging 90wpm on the computer. Pretty strange, huh? Gone, I watched her hang on to Keith as they both left. I looked at my watch, rotated the bezel, and waited for the ten minutes to pass. "What's the matter ... time to go?" asked Linda. With me mentally fucking every female in sight, I didn't even take notice of her sitting in the chair directly in front of me. "Yeah," I muttered "if I can only remember how to get out of here." I was expressing a genuine concern. Jim's neighborhood was, of course, a model of modern suburbia: Every house is identical, the streets are all generically named after trees, Maple, Oak, Pine, etc. "The trick is to remember the Christmas decorations as you come in," she replied. For most of the night, or most of the previous months, I had completely ignored Linda. We were complete opposites and when we conflicted in the office, all hell broke loose. She was my major obstacle when it came to ordering a computer system that I thought the office needed and I resented her for it. It would have been genuinely good for the office and the consulting fees to me would have kept me in pizza and porno videos for a good long time. We were both stubborn and pigheaded, but I was rational when it came to arguments and silent in my revenge, so it always appeared as if she was a raving lunatic. She always hated me for being able to argue without raising my voice or getting hysterical. "I don't know how I'm getting home. I guess I'll walk." "Walk?" I said, not really knowing where she lived. "It's pretty cold out there. How'd you get here?" "Beth and Keith, but I guess they wanted to be alone." Jeesh, I was actually beginning to feel sorry for Linda. As she blabbed on about Christmas this or that, I really began to think about it. Of all of the people in the world, she's quite possibly the only one that I genuinely do not like. Don't get me wrong, we'd be civil to each other when necessary, but when we conflicted, run for fucking cover. Which made me wonder why we seemed to be making small talk now. What I said next shocked me: "Where do you live? I could give you a ride." I wished that I could pull the words back in my gullet but it was too late. The offer was made. Then there was the awkward silence that seemed to last for hours. I stared her right in the eye and didn't show any signs of the absolute horror that I felt. Surely the moment she got in my car we would begin to argue. Why couldn't she call her husband? She WAS married. With three kids in fact. What an asshole I am! She leaned forward and whispered. "Sure ... if we can leave right now." I was looking to detect something in her eyes. Maybe an ulterior motive or some kind of revenge plan, but I saw genuine sincerity, so I quickly gulped down the rest of my nog and stumbled to get off of the sofa. I wasn't drunk, but I was a bit 'affected'. I did my absolute best not to show it. Getting cocked at a client's house is not exactly a good career move. As we both said our final good-byes, needless to say, people were more than a bit shocked to see us leaving together and acting quite civil towards each other. Jim, couldn't pick up his jaw from the floor. I was feeling more than a bit loose, so I wished Merry Christmas and Joyeux Noël all around and left with Linda. I was right. It was cold, but at least it wasn't snowing. I love snow to fuck around in, but hate to drive in it. As I fumbled through my pockets for my keys, I looked around and marveled at the Christmas lights and decorations. "Yeah, they do know how to overdo it, don't they?" Linda said. For a brief moment, I'd forgotten she was there. "Look at this one over here." She walked out ahead of me and was admiring a decoration scene, while I was admiring her. She had on an oversized sweater and a pair of simple black jeans, but incredibly, she didn't have a jacket. She always wore oversized tops. You couldn't really get a good gander at what her boobs were shaped like because she always wore something big and floppy and pulled at it constantly.The jeans, however, were a complete contrast. They hugged her ass like a second skin, an ass that can only be described as bulbous. Linda wasn't fat, but I suppose 3 kids would make even Ms. Olympia a bit on the chunky, Rubenesque side. Her last child was born less than a year before. I couldn't really recall when. I started the consulting job while she was on maternity leave, and I guess the process of getting such a big project done with her not there made her a little irritated. As the Triple X-rated movie reels in my head began to turn, I stopped myself. What was I doing? I hadn't fantasized about Linda since I really got to know what a bitch she is! It's not that she wasn't attractive to me. On the contrary, she had attributes that get my balls churning instantly: She's a true redhead, she's got a set of hips that you can hold on to, and she had just had a child. (Pregnant women and new mothers are very sexy. I secretly wished that I could watch her breast-feed her child). I stepped up beside her, finally finding my keys, and looked at the house that she was admiring. It was a gaudy masterpiece mixture of the classic nativity scene and the modern Santa Claus theme. There were thousands of lights on the house itself and lining the driveway and walkways as well. "A bit overdone for my taste," I said, getting into my car. Being the absolute gentleman that I am, I got in first and cranked it up while she waited. Then I unlocked her door from the inside (What a guy!) "Where to?" I sighed, trying not to sound as lit as I really was. "The first left then first right will get you onto Pleasant street. I live at 37 Stuart." 'Maybe this won't be so bad,' I thought to myself. Stuart is only a few minutes away. Surely we couldn't come to blows in a short few minutes. As I winded my way towards Pleasant, the silence was absolutely deafening. I wanted to say something, or turn on the radio or something, but most of all, I wanted this long, strange trip to end. Finally, I turned onto Stuart and spied her house. It looked kind of empty, which made me wonder where her husband and kids were. I stopped the car and didn't even bother to take it out of gear, then I waited . . . and waited . . . and waited. Silence. She wouldn't say anything, she wouldn't get out, as far as I knew, she was dead because I couldn't hear her breathing. Then I turned to look at her. SHE WAS ASLEEP! She was kind of slumped over, her head against the window, a mass of red hair covering her face. I leaned forward to try to obtain some sort of outline of her breasts, but to no avail. It was too dark, and even if it wasn't, the sweater was too thick and oversized. I put the Olds in park and shut it off. The sudden engine silence along with the eerie feeling that someone was looking at her woke her from her light slumber. She looked around confused, then opened the door abruptly and got out without saying a word. With that, I started the car, turned on the radio and fished around my glove compartment for some proper tunage. After finding Zeppelin IV and popping it in, I was ready to head out, but Linda wasn't even to her walkway yet, so I decided to be at least halfway decent and wait to see her through her door safely. As she reached her steps, she dropped her purse, giving me a few more fleeting glimpses of her ass and wide hips as she bent to retrieve it. Instead of walking up her steps, she pivoted and turned around, returning towards me. I looked in the passenger seat as if checking to see if she had left something behind. Nothing. She walked right up to the window on my side and leaned over to speak. I slid the window down to that electronic humming sound that I love so much. "Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee?" She asked feebly. 'Oh jeesh, what in the world could have entered her mind from the time she got out of my car to the time she dropped her purse?' I shut the car off in silent reply. I spied the neighborhood and decided that it was safe enough to leave my keys in the ignition and the door unlocked. After all, it was quite dark, quite cold, and quite late. I followed Linda up the walkway wondering if this was a wise decision. We had managed to be civil to each other all night. Why was I pushing my luck? Her house showed no signs of life inside, which surprised me more than a little. The house itself was nothing impressive: Single level, semi-modern petite style. Adequate distance between neighboring dwellings. Good use of landscaping and shrubbery. I calculated it to be worth about $90,000 in the current depressed market. As she unlocked her door and went in ahead of me, I tried to recall anything and everything that I'd heard her say, compiling months of conversations, gossip, and innuendo into a nice background file on her: Linda Taylor-31, Husband, Randy-31, Assembly-line worker. Kids - Jessica-10, Jodi-2, and Bobby was less than a year old. Education - Trade school for secretarial skills, no formal post-secondary education. I was prepared for anything she threw at me, or was I? The house was dark. I was surprised at the pleasant odor emanating from it. For some reason, I assumed that her house smelled like chicken soup or something. She turned on the lights and told me to have a seat. The living room was clean and brightly decorated with bric-a-brac and several figurines here and there. It wasn't overly impressive, but it did add a spice of decorative class. I admired her for that. She was in the kitchen area, which sounded to be a great distance away from the main living room. Within a few minutes, she returned with a platter containing two huge cups of joe, a bowl of sugar and a container full of what I correctly assumed to be cream. "Thank you," I said, as she handed me my coffee. "Randy? Is he here?" I inquired. "I wouldn't want to wake him up or anything." "He's at work. He's on the third shift this month," she said matter-of-factly. I looked around, thinking of where her kids might be, surely she didn't leave them here alone while she was out. "They're at my mother's'" she blurted out, reading my mind. "I didn't know how late I'd be at Jim's so I told them to stay the night. They're OK. She baby-sits them every day." Well, that solved a great mystery. She seemed comfortable with it, but I needed a little more reassurance. "It's OK, I don't bite," she laughed. "I know we haven't had the best working relationship, but that's because we're both stubborn and we like to get our own way and when that happens, you're going to have conflicts." She made a great deal of sense and from that moment on, I felt much more comfortable. I even took my jacket off as we made fun of people at the office and gossiped endlessly about this one's sex life and that one's husband. We even found that we shared the same taste in music. She popped in a Pink Floyd CD and we jammed out for a while, sipping our java and chatting like old friends. I wasn't surprised at how close we had gotten on the sofa. We'd inch forward and whisper little gossip tidbits to each other as if others could be listening, until our thighs were rubbing. The coffee was long gone, and the CD was on its fourth go-round, so I decided to head home. "Can't believe it's so late," I said without looking at my watch. I slid forward on the sofa to maximize the contact between our thighs, hoping to further fuel the fires of my masturbatory fantasies. I placed my hand on the back of the sofa for leverage. Quickly, she placed her hand on my thigh and held it firmly. "You don't really have to leave now . . . do you? We were just getting to know one another." Wild shit started running through my head. Her touch was burning me. My prick went from flaccid and floppy to purple and promising within the span of 1.5 seconds. In response, I slowly slid my hand from the sofa to her face. I caressed her flesh very gently as we both leaned forward blindly. Our lips found each other, slowly and gently at first, then with a passionate yearning. Our tongues intertwined in the age-old French dance of foreplay. The heat generated by our bodies was almost overwhelming. I found it difficult to breathe, but we remained joined, breaking only to kiss her cheek and nose and neck. Her cream-colored neck was flawless and without a single wrinkle. As my nose nuzzled the base of her throat, I detected a hot, musky odor: The smell of lust reeking from her every pore. For the first time, I saw this person with whom I had a working relationship, whom before tonight I didn't like or respect, vulnerable and ready for the pleasures of a deep-plunging cock. I felt the heat rush to my cheeks and almost swooned with the feeling that rode through my entire body. Wordlessly, I reached out and began to fondle one rounded knee, letting my hand revel in the feel of the tight denim covering the flesh just under the surface. Then I ran my hand up the trembling flesh of her inner thigh, hesitating at the apex of her jeans to diddle my fingers at the crossroads of her seams. Linda shuddered at my touch. She was so soft, so incredibly soft. We moaned in unison, our tongues vibrating against one another. She offered no resistance as I slid my hand from her crotch slowly up the bulging flesh of her belly and on to her right breast. I waited for an objection, but there was none. 'Surely I latched onto the wrong thing' I immediately thought to myself. The object that I held in my hand could not have possibly been Linda's boob. It was huge and jug-like, and very soft to the touch. It was very hard to tell through the thickness of her sweater. Again, she read my mind. She pulled back and we momentarily broke from our embrace.Her face was flushed, and the sweat had beaded on her forehead, as I'm sure it had done on mine. Without saying a word, she pulled the sweater over her head. I had my first view of her bra and tits. The bra was pale blue and silky in texture. It barely held the twin masses of white flesh that sprang from her chest. Her belly was a joyous collection of fleshy rolls that longed to be tongued. It was so smooth, so white, so silky that it was almost unbelievable. I reached out to embrace her, reached upward, behind her back, and undid the catch of her brassiere and pulled it away, passing the loops along her arms and out over her hands. Her tits were incredible. As she wavered on the sofa, it seemed that they had lives of their own and did not belong to the rest of her body. Widely separated, they hung from her chest in sloping, curving flesh that reached a crescendo in two huge reddish nipples, each surrounded by big pink coronas. They were perfectly formed bitch udders, made for seeing, handling, and sucking. My mouth watered just from looking at them. She reached forward and pulled my shirt and T-shirt over my head, her fingers lingering on my hairless chest, tentatively at first, then more boldly. Her fingers caressing my shoulders, then my nipples. Her touch was electrifying. I grabbed her gently by the arm and leaned back, pulling her towards me, on top of me. I hugged her tightly, seeking her lips with my own. Her body was completely on top of mine. Her chest pressed into me, the moistness forming between us. She silently slid her hand between us and cupped my cock and balls through my slacks. I whimpered slightly at her touch, her hand outlining my dong, squeezing it, measuring it. I felt the puddles of sweat that had quickly formed between us. I reached to fondle her breast and was more surprised at the amount of sweat that she had on her. I broke our embrace to look down between us. What the?!?!? It wasn't sweat at all: It was MILK, BREAST MILK! "I'm so sorry . . ." Linda said apologetically. "I breast-feed Bobby pretty regularly." My cock nearly exploded with the revelation. I couldn't believe it. I squeezed her boob and watched in awe as the pearly white substance squirted from around her nipple and splashed upon my chest. One of my lifelong fantasies was about to come true. I grabbed her by her wide hips and slid her upwards so that her breasts were directly above my face. I slid one hot nipple into my mouth and then the other, alternating breasts. My dick strained unbelievably against my trousers, but he would definitely have to wait. I wrapped both hands around her right boob and opened my mouth to await the fountains of mother's milk that were sure to come. I squeezed, gently at first, then harder and more forcefully. The milk squirted into my mouth and slid down my throat in an ecstasy of sweet tasting nectar that was absolutely indescribable. I sucked and suckled like a little baby, taking my time to enjoy the sweetness. I was so wrapped up in my own milky desires, that I was completely unaware that Linda was quaking and shuddering her way through her first orgasm. She let out a small shriek and collapsed on top of me, my mouth maintaining its' gentle suction. After drinking my fill from both of her generous jugs, I made a decision. On this night, I will give this woman THE BEST fuck session that she has ever had or will ever have in her entire lifetime. This would be in repayment for offering me her sweet treats. Without hesitating, I reached between us and unsnapped her jeans. I felt her gutflesh give way and overflow, breaking free from their tight, denim prison. I tried to peel them down over her hips and ass, but to no avail. I was going to need help with this one. She got to her feet and unzipped the jeans completely. As she bent over to pull them down, her breasts hung from her chest like two twin beehives swinging in the warm summer breeze. I reached out to touch them for a brief moment. They felt smooth under my fingers. When Linda stood upright, I could see . . . HEAVEN! Her crotch was a mass of red cunt hair! Long, stringy strands of pubes escaped her panties and poked freely into the air. Her panties were a match set to her bra and were soaked through. This added to the wonderful view I was getting of her fiery forest. She pulled down her panties and stepped out of them in one motion and stood completely naked before me. What glorious flesh! Unmarred, and creamy looking. "How do I look?" she asked meekly. "Good enough to eat." I replied. To prove it, I grabbed her leg and swung it over my head so that her right leg was on the floor and her left was on the side of my head. I slowly kissed her inner thigh and was intrigued at the suspended smooth flesh. She leaned forward, hanging her breasts over the edge of the sofa. At first, it was difficult to breathe, but I inched down on the sofa and found a sweet spot. I darted my tongue out and licked at her entire dense red bush. The smell was incredible: A mixture of breast milk, sweat, cunt juice, and lust, lots and lots of lust. I traced my tongue along her thick cuntlips, occasionally stopping at her protruding clitoris and sucking it like a nipple. This slow tease made Linda mad with humplust. She began to grind her pussy into my face in search of release. I eased my middle finger into her pussy up to the first knuckle, no more than an inch, and began to slide it up and down. Linda wanted it in her. She slid back in hopes of impaling herself on my finger but I didn't allow her. I was going to make this one last and make it count. Just when she was on the verge of begging for an orgasmic release, I pushed her over the edge. I shoved two fingers into her sopping wet cunny and simultaneously munched on her swollen clit until she screamed in a double clitoral/vaginal orgasm that shook the entire sofa, and maybe the entire house. Her juices shot out of her quim, sprayed my hand and splashed upon my chin and throat. I sucked as much of the honeysweet liquor as I could, lapping her entire crotch like a dog. We were both motionless for the next two or three minutes. Catching our breath and returning to the realities of the normal world. I lovingly caressed her asscheeks and her hips. I couldn't get enough of her smooth flesh and her gentle bulges. She got off of me and stood up in one fluid motion, taking my hand and standing me up. She pulled me close and grasped my asscheeks as our lips met. Linda was as tall as I was, so our alignment was no problem. I grabbed her fleshy cheeks and ground her mound into my crotch. She breathed heavily into my shoulder as she hungrily humped the lump in my pants, rubbing her clit across the raised seam. Her actions became more frantic as she balanced herself on one leg and hooked the other around my ass to increase the friction on her pussy. I held on to her as she squirmed, twisted and turned her way through another quivering orgasm. She muffled her squeaks in my chest and nearly collapsed in my arms. She held her head against my shoulder and caressed my arms as we stood and embraced like lovers. She gently took my hand and led me away from the sofa, and down a long hallway. As she trotted ahead of me, I could really get an excellent look at her body. A flawless picture of creamy white flesh that looks as if it were made to be tongued by me and me alone. We walked past what I believed to be the kitchen and then a bathroom and some closed doors that I assumed were her kids' rooms. At the end of the hall, she opened the door and beckoned me in. When the door closed behind us and we were enveloped by the warm semi-darkness of her bedroom, we remained silent. She stood before me, her hands exploring my chest and shoulders. I was breathing hard and fast. She unsnapped my pants, and slid them down to my ankles. As I stepped out of them, she cooed at the sight of my dong poking through my boxer shorts. Swaying rigidly like an untiring soldier. She pulled down my boxers and lightly gripped my rod, pulling me gently towards the medium-sized bed. She turned on a small lamp beside the bed and sat down, pulling me closer. As I stood in front of her, she looked like I had never seen her before: Vulnerable and in need of affection. I ran my fingers through her long red hair and softly touched her cheek. She leaned forward and nuzzled my pubic hairs with her nose, my cock rubbing her cheek and poking her hair. She flicked her tongue and licked the base of my cock. I trembled at the immense pleasure she was giving me. Then, in one motion, she slid my entire cock in her mouth and started a combination of sucking and humming that was driving me absolutely insane. She repeatedly slid my thick cock into her gasping mouth, sliding it between the compressing, soft lips. Her cheeks filled and emptied like bellows, and her entire upper body swayed in unison with her sucking movements. With every stroke, her big tits swayed and bobbed like fleshy pendulums, the taut pink nipples sticking out like fingertips. I could feel my cockhead lodge into the back of her throat. After a few minutes of this intense pleasure, I could feel the dam begin to weaken as my balls began to churn. Linda reached up and began to twist my nipple with one hand and massage my nuts with the other. I couldn't hold off any longer. The dam broke, and I came with an animal groan, filling Linda's mouth with gobs of hot spunk. As the cum surged out of me, Linda's mouth sucked harder. I could hear her gulp and swallow squirts of my hot, sticky cream. For the next 20 seconds, I continued to cum in her mouth, as if I had stored up semen for months. She never gave up sucking for an instant; She was intent on getting every last drop of sticky moisture out of my dork.Sperm began to dribble from the side of her mouth and run in a slow stream down her chin. Several large drops settled onto her breasts. She let my dick vacate her moist mouth and lifted her heavy, hanging breast and licked the semen off of it.

Part 1

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/13089.txt

IndianOutlaw

A Reporter's Stripping Story

"Get the scoop or you're fired!" Her editor's comments rang in her ears as she headed for the stadium. Katherine, Kate as she was known, was the newest sports reporter for the City Times. Moving from television weather girl to sports columnist, she was determined to make her mark. At only 27, this fiery redhead had accomplished her dream of becoming a sports reporter, all this without lowering herself by giving in and using her obvious female attributes. Billy Bo, the rookie quarterback for the Memphis Blues, who took the team from last place to one game from the Super Bowl in just his first season, was rumored to be leaving and taking the entire offensive line with him. The whole town was abuzz with talk. Was he leaving or staying? It was serious, and her editor was even more serious. This story would make her career. If she missed this story, she would be fired, and being a woman, it would definitely be held against her. Driving home, she got lucky. Walking around the corner, just outside of downtown, there was Billy Bo walking into a bar. She circled the block and saw his trademark Chevy truck with "B BO" on the plate. It was him. She parked and headed for the bar. Once inside, this dim place was not too crowded, only about 10 or so. There he was, Billy Bo, beer in hand, talking to a bottle blonde dressed in a slinky short blue satin dress at the bar. Kate strolled over to Billy Bo and tapped him on the shoulder. "Excuse me, Billy Bo..." Billy turned and looked at Kate standing there. He lowered his sunglasses and admired her from head to toe and back again. Dark brown full skirt almost to the floor, matching leather belt, tan button-down blouse, concealing two obvious C-sized breasts. Her hair was up in a bun, and her dark-rimmed glasses hung on the end of her nose. He stared at her chest while he talked. "Katie!" she hated it when he called her that. It was degrading. "Now what brings y'all here?" (Texas accent) She was painfully aware he probably could not identify her face in a lineup, but he knew her breasts. He never took her seriously, always brushing her off after each game. "Are the rumors true about you leaving the Blues?" "Now, darling, y'all know I won't talk 'bout that." He turned back to his DD-sized bottle blonde plaything. "Please," she placed her hand on his shoulder, "all of Memphis is waiting to hear this." She was pleading. Billy Bo pushed her hand off his shoulder. "Go away! Can't you see I'm busy." He returned to his 'friend'. Kate turned and started to walk away. Hick, she thought to herself. Well, at least no one else was going to get the story. As she made her way to the door, the blonde whispered in Billy Bo's ear. "That's a pretty darn good idea." He deliberately exaggerated the last word. "(Whistle) Hey, Katie, come here." She turned, and found herself moving to him faster and faster. "Yes," she said hopefully. Once again, noticing he was watching her breasts bounce the whole way. "My friend here has a pretty good idea. I believe you've got a list of stuff there to ask me." "Of course." "Tell you what, I will answer any question, but you must give me a piece of your clothing for each answer." Pervert! She thought. Then her mind flashed, "Get the scoop or you're fired!" She shook her head. "You're on." Now all the patrons, all men except for blondie, were gathering around. "First question, Katie." He sat back and grinned. Blondie put both her arms around his chest. "Are you talking with other teams about moving?" "Yes." He was enjoying this. "Belt, please." Slowly, she unhooked the brown leather belt. Because it was suede, she had to push it through each loop until it was freed from her thin waist. She handed it to him. He put it on the bar, but never took his eyes off her slim hips. "What teams have you talked with?" "Dallas, Miami, and New York." She kicked off a shoe and slid it to him. Now standing lopsided, she flipped through her notes. He returned to staring at her breasts. "Do you favor any one of them?" "Not really." Brick wall. Bad question. She now kicked off the other shoe and slid it to him. Now she was about to lose something important. "Okay, um, is the Blues organization offering you more money to stay?" "Yes. Now what comes off next?" She had an ace up her sleeve. First untucking, then slowly unbuttoning each button, from the top to the bottom, she began to remove her tan blouse. Billy Bo began licking his lips. She undid each cuff button, first right then left. Holding her breath, she pulled it off quickly, throwing it in his face. As he pulled it down, a priceless look of disappointment befell his face. She had a full slip on. But at least her breasts stuck out better, he thought. "Okay, Billy Bo, are you planning to stay here in Memphis?" "Of course." She was shocked at the frankness of the answer. Was he lying to her? He may be a sleazeball and quite possibly a pervert, but he was not known as a liar. She unbuttoned the single button, gently pulled down the zipper, and let the skirt fall to the floor. His jaw dropped. Her slip only went to the knee. Her legs were fantastic. She was in too deep now. She needed more. No matter the cost now. The skirt was placed on the bar with the rest of the clothes. Down to her white lingerie, she was beginning to feel the drafts in this place. And the stares from the horny patrons. Her nipples were getting hard from the cool air. "Did you ever plan to move to another team?" She smelled a rat. The answer was now obvious. But she had to hear it. Even if it cost her the slip. "Absolutely not." He sat back and laughed. This was what he was waiting for. The bottle blonde behind him was standing now, admiring her. Her thin blue dress shimmered in the lights of the bar, her obviously fake breasts bouncing as he laughed. Not knowing if it was the desire to get to her last question, leaving her at least in her panties, or to just get it over with, she put both hands on either side of the slip, arms crossed, and pulled it over her head in one swift motion. It floated from her hands onto the bar with the rest of her clothes. "Damn!" Billy Bo let out. She didn't realize it, but her matching white lace bra and panties were a little see-through. Not a lot, but enough. Billy Bo got an erection. He looked at Blondie. "How come you don't wear underwear like that?" "Silly, I don't wear underwear." She giggled as she twirled her hair. "Okay, are you ready for my last question?" "Why, yes, I am." He smiled bigger than before. "That will cost you your bra, please." He held out his hand. Kate panicked. That wasn't right. That was not a question, she protested. But no one would hear of it. She pleaded and got the cold shoulder, especially from Blondie. She needed her last question answered. She lost. Placing both hands on the front, "clip" - the small sound as she unhooked the front of her bra, exposing to the world two perfect, round 36Cs. Her nipples were now puffy and fully erect from the cold, and partly the excitement, mostly the cold. She put her left arm over her breasts and prepared to write down his last answer. "Why?" The ultimate question. "Publicity, babe. The Blues and I and my agent dreamed up this whole thing to get national publicity. I get a large signing bonus, and the world gets to see my face on the front page of every major paper in the country, including yours." He was smug, very smug. Kate abandoned her breasts, much to Billy Bo's delight. She slowly pulled her panties down, keeping her legs crossed as much as possible. It was no use. Her trimmed triangle stood out. Billy Bo began tapping his leg, letting her know how horny he was. She threw the panties at him. He put them to his face and took a long, hard sniff. "It's an okay body," Blondie said. "At least they're real, sister. There, happy now?" She extended out her arms a little, allowing him a good look. "Can I have my clothes back now?" "Hey, a deal's a deal. I answered your questions. I keep the clothes." He loved it. Kate grabbed her notepad, used it to cover her bush, the left arm to cover her breasts, and shoved her way out of the bar. Her ass wiggled while Billy Bo stared. Fortunately, it was dark, and she was not parked far away. She got her story, though. Epilogue Billy Bo and Blondie left the bar and staggered arm in arm to his Porsche. They had stayed at the bar and celebrated for a little while longer. Before leaving, they staple-gunned Kate's clothes to the wall as a memento to the occasion.Laughing the whole way, Blondie was too drunk to notice that the left spaghetti strap had fallen off her shoulder. It fell down her dangling arm, exposing her left DD breast to the world. Then, just before the car, like a blinding blur, a naked woman appeared from the alley. Billy Bo did not look at her face, just her breasts. "Katie," he said with a smile. She stopped in front of him, pushed the blonde away, and placed both hands on his shoulders. He continued to stare mesmerized at her fantastic breasts, then down to her glistening, sweet beaver. Then... "Uggggggghhhhhhh... OHHHhhhhh." Kate kneed him directly in the balls. Billy Bo fell back, grabbing his nuts, then passed out cold from the pain. Kate smiled to herself. She turned to the stunned blonde and approached her with a devilish grin. "Okay, Blondie." She grabbed her by the hair and pulled her up by it until it was obvious she was in pain. "Give me your dress." "What???" Wrong answer. Kate punched her in the gut. Blondie doubled over in pain. Then, grabbing the dress by the straps, she pulled it over her head. Fake as they were, those fantastic boobs jiggled and bounced. Kate smiled, for it was now obvious from the glow of the street lights that she was definitely not a real blonde. Kate now began pulling the dress over her head. The silky material slid over her round breasts nicely. Momentarily, it hung on her hips, leaving her pussy and heart-shaped butt exposed for just a precious few more seconds. Then she tugged it down, covering herself completely. The blonde got up slowly. Desperately, she tried to cover her 36DD's, but it was in vain. They were too big for her small arms. She was left to covering the heart-shaved patch and moist area between her legs. Kate looked at her as she smoothed out the wrinkles in her new dress. "Now, you didn't think I was going to go home naked, did you?" Kate headed for her car, grinning from ear to ear. "Hey," Blondie shouted, standing there bent slightly, desperately covering her pussy with both hands. "Do me a favor." "What?" "Call Mom and tell her I'll be a little later, and not to wait up." Geese, 25 years old, and still lives with her mom and dad. "Okay." Kate got in her car and drove home.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/17159.txt

Stephen Peters

A Brother's Love

"Jamie, come on, wake up!" David's voice was soft and warm in her ear. "Mmmmmm..." Slowly Jamie drifted into awareness; her brother's strong arm around her waist as he gently nuzzled the back of her neck. "Wanna do it?" he asked. "I mean, you've been running around all evening in nothing but those stupid leotards, and I'm...kinda all worked up, you know?" "Tough shit," Jamie mumbled, pulling the stiff hotel sheets back over her shoulder. "Use your hand." Silence -- for the moment. "Bet you want it just as bad as I do," David whispered again, voice soft and persistent. "Yeah, and how do you know?" Jamie asked. The question conveyed both irritation and curiosity. "'Cause," David replied, utterly sure of himself. Jamie sighed. Sometimes her brother acted as if he could read her mind, as if he possessed some magic that allowed him to look right through whatever she said or did into her deep, personal core. It could be kind of scary sometimes, other times (like right at that moment) it was almost...comforting. And the fact was, now that David had her awake -- and especially after the shit they had both gone through that day -- Jamie wanted some lovin'. Yes, she mused, one of her brother's long, gentle fuckings was just the way to put things right again. Still, she didn't want to appear *too* eager. "Well...maybe," Jamie said. "What about you-know-who?" She nodded her head in the direction of the folding bed in the corner. A young girl, the daughter of their father's latest girlfriend, lay curled up in it, sleeping soundly. "I'll be really quiet," David whispered. Almost immediately his hand began to trail down her stomach. "Uh-uh." Jamie rolled over onto her back. Taking her brother's hand in hers, she carefully placed it over the firm mound of her developing breast. "Start here..." she sighed. Comfort is where one finds it, and the fact that Jamie found hers in the arms of her brother didn't bother her very much anymore. After all, in the three long years since their dad had been laid off and mom had left, there had been precious little in the way of comfort (or stability), and Jamie was not about to deny herself what little she did have. David was the one constant in her young life and, while she did sometimes wonder what forces had turned her brother into her lover, she didn't question them. If pushed, she would have guessed it was simply blind luck, or perhaps fate. Fate -- and the deeply troubled man who was her father...Lying in the darkness of her bedroom, holding one another, they talked and whispered; about their father mostly, but also about themselves and how they could keep the family going. It was purely asexual, and it might have remained as such -- except for the simple, biological fact that teenage boys wake in the morning with erections. Something nudged Jamie from her sleep the morning it happened. She didn't know what it was, so she just lay there in her bed and took stock of what had disturbed her. She was lying on her back uncovered, the blanket having fallen to the floor during the hot evening, wearing just a pair of baggy, white shorts and an old, torn t-shirt. It was quiet and still in the bed for a time, and Jamie was just about to fall back asleep when she felt it again. A steady jiggling in the bed. It wasn't a lot of movement, just a slight perception of the bed undulating. She had no idea what it was, but it was becoming clear to her that the jiggling movements were coming from her brother's body as he lay next to her, with his side and hip just barely touching hers. Curiosity finally got the best of Jamie, and she opened her eyes just a slit, then tilted her head so slightly and so slowly that David would not detect that she was awake. She could see down the length of his body as he lay next to her. Jamie almost gasped at the sight but checked herself. Her brother lay on his back, wearing a white t-shirt and nothing else. His underwear was down at his ankles, and David was doing the oddest thing Jamie had ever seen anyone do in her life. He was holding his fleshy penis in his hand and he was quickly rubbing the hand opposite Jamie up and down the rigid shaft. Jamie didn't know what to do. She didn't know what she WANTED to do. At once she was repulsed by the sight but oddly, at the same time, the sight of what her brother was doing made her curious and excited. She watched through the slits of her eyelids, wondering just what David was doing. Wondering WHY he was doing it. Wondering how it felt to him. Oddly, as she watched, she became excited in a strange new sort of way. She could feel a stirring between her own legs, and it seemed to be caused by what she could see her brother doing between his. David's movements quickened on the bed next to his sister. Jamie thought she could hear him make a sound, an odd, excited, moaning sort of a sound. She wanted to lift her head and open her eyes so that she could better see what he was doing. Then she felt something. David had taken the hand closest to Jamie and suddenly placed it lightly over the mound of her pussy, between her slightly parted thighs. Jamie could not contain her gasp of shock and surprise, but David seemed not to notice. He continued his rapid penis stroking, pulling the loose foreskin across the large, purplish head of his penis even as he tightened his grip on his sister's pussy mound. Jamie scrambled to her elbows, abandoning all pretense of sleep. "Wha -- wha --" Jamie tried to form the words, but just then her brother's penis erupted. "AAHHhhhhhhhh" David gasped as the first wad of semen arched over his bare stomach to impact high on his chest. The second went even farther, a drop of it splattering on his chin, then he loosed a long, steady stream of semen, covering his t-shirt and stomach with thick ropes of pearly white. "Oh....God....yea...." he moaned, hips undulating, lost in orgasmic pleasure. Jamie was totally speechless, staring in wonder at the sight of her brother's ejaculating penis. Gradually the streams of teenage sperm slowed to a stop. David gave his penis a few last strokes then raised his arm and draped it over his face, covering his eyes. "Ohhhh...." he said, exhaling with a long, quiet sigh "I needed that." Jamie finally understood what her brother was doing -- `masturbating' is what her girlfriends called it -- and now that she had seen the act she didn't quite know what to make of it. She was amazed that David would do something so personal, so intimate in front of her. She was also amazed (and a bit frightened) at how hard her brother had come; the male orgasm seemed so...*powerful*. Could I come that hard, Jamie wondered? And with that thought came the realization that watching her brother masturbate had gotten her really, truly aroused. Oh, she knew about the pleasant, tingly sensation she got when she touched herself between the legs -- but that was NOTHING compared to what she was feeling now; hot and flushed, butterflies in the pit of her stomach, and a sharp, sweet ache where her brother's fingers lay curled around her denim-covered pussy. "Oh man," Jamie whispered "are you...alright?" David slowly uncovered his eyes and grinned. It seems so natural to him, Jamie thought. Does he masturbate in front of girls all the time? "Yea, I'm alright!" David answered enthusiastically. Then, seeing the look of confusion and uncertainty on his sister's face, added softly, almost apologetically "Oh, uh -- I'm sorry sis. I didn't mean to wake you, but sometimes I get hard in the morning and I just gotta....you know, take care of myself." He tilted his head, looking at his sister with curiosity "I mean, you do it too, don't you?" he asked. "Well, uh....yea, sometimes. Like in the shower." "Feels good afterwards, doesn't it?" Jamie nodded, returning her brother's good-natured grin in spite of herself. God, he really WAS comfortable discussing this. "Uh, Davie....." Jamie asked, voice soft and hesitant. "Yea?" "Why are you touching me?" David glanced down the length of his sister's body. His hand was still resting comfortably on Jamie's sex mound, the fingers trailing into the area between her thighs, and Jamie had the distinct impression that David had put his hand there without even really thinking about it. For a long time he was silent. "Uh, well..." he finally answered "I guess I thought that....uh, you know, you'd want to get off too." More silence. Slowly, tentatively, Jamie pushed her crotch towards her brother's enveloping hand. "Jamie, I'm a mess. Let me take a showe --" "No." Jamie was scared, excited and very, very determined to experience what her brother had. "Do me!" she hissed. David turned to Jamie and raised his body, supporting himself on one arm as he lay on his side. He smiled into her eager, curious expression for a moment and then looked down her warm, budding body to where his hand cupped his sister's pussy mound. Jamie felt a thrill as he squeezed her there, the pressure and electric feeling causing her to open her legs a little for him. "Ohhh," the sound whistled out between her lips. "Jamie, I...." he hesitated, a look of odd embarrassment on his face. "What?" David looked down at the strip of mattress between them. "I don't really know how to get a girl off," he admitted. Jamie sighed in excited exasperation. "You don't know how?" "Well," he started, "I never really...touched a girl...down there before." "Well you were touching ME." "Yeah, I know" he replied sheepishly. Jamie sat up and looked into her brother's face for a moment and then with both hands reached down and grasped the waistband of her shorts. Lifting her ass from the mattress, she pulled her pants down and off of her. David saw the alluring, newly grown, tuft of dark pubic hair at his sister's crotch as she pulled her white pants down over her rounded hips and then worked them off her legs and lay back. Jamie looked up into his astonished expression for a moment and then said, "Well?" "Well, what?" "Do me. Do me like you did yourself." "How? There's nothing to jack on," he said as he looked down at the fuzzy mound of his young sister's naked pussy. Jamie snorted impatiently. "Look," she said, laying back and placing her middle finger gently down into the cleft between her pussy lips. David watched as the tip of her finger sank down between the soft-looking, down-covered pillows of her sex. "You just do this," she explained as her brother watched her begin to gently move the tip of her finger around between the soft pillows of pussy in a slow, circular motion, as if she were rubbing some special spot in there. David watched her masturbate for a few moments, seeing the muscles of her legs tense as her finger worked in the crack of her sex, the same way his leg muscles tensed when he masturbated. He looked up at her pretty face and saw that her eyes were closed and she had an odd look of concentration on her features. "How does that feel?" he whispered to her. "Good," she dreamily answered and then opened her eyes. "But it would feel better having another person do it to me." Jamie stopped her masturbating and reached over and took her brother's hand, pulling it down to the soft hair between her open legs. "You do it," she instructed. David gently worked his middle finger into the tight space between his sister's soft pussy lips. He was surprised that it was so wet and slick between the dainty mounds as he felt his finger slide easily around. Jamie gasped and closed her eyes as David's finger made contact with the hard little knot, just down inside her slit, and he watched her legs tense again and her toes curl. He knew that he had found her sensitive spot. It must be the same thing as that receptive, sexually ticklish place he had just under the head of his penis. "Yes!" he heard her whisper and saw the muscles of her flat stomach tighten. "That's it. Rub me there, David. Gently though.David began to swirl his slickened fingertip around on that soft knot of flesh, watching his sister work her pussy back up to meet his finger and hearing the breath whoosh from her lips and nose as he did it. He could hear a nasty, slick, wet sound coming from her pussy as he worked his finger in it. "Ohhhh, yes!" she whispered loudly. In spite of her excitement, David pulled his finger from his sister's warm, furry crotch and looked at it. It was moist with clear, thick sexual fluid. He put it to his nose and sniffed it excitedly. It smelled like a spicy mixture of old pee and feminine sweat, but there was something else about the heady odor of his sister's most intimate area. Something about the enticing fragrance of girlish pussy that made his spent cock go suddenly strong and rigid as a pipe again. "What are you doing?" Jamie asked, looking up at him, red-faced, her voice a mixture of both impatience and embarrassment. "I wanna see it," David answered as he hastily scrambled to his knees. Leaning low over Jamie's stomach, he planted an awkward kiss just above her pubic fuzz (once again catching the enticing aroma of his sister's sexual scent), then, reversing himself on the narrow bed, pressed his feet against the far wall. David wrapped one strong arm around his sister's leg, holding it still as he lay his head gently on the exposed thigh, then with trembling fingers reached over and spread the lips of his sister's pubescent pussy. David was transfixed, gazing in awe at the moist, pink flesh of Jamie's cunny. Her clit was clearly exposed; the small bud poking out from its fleshy hood. Further down, David could make out his sister's cuntal opening, then the skirt of flesh that widened into her ass cheeks, then finally, almost lost in the shadow, the dark red rosebud of her anus. "David!" Jamie moaned impatiently. "Oh...uh, yea." David suddenly remembered what he was supposed to be doing. He hunched over a bit more, bringing his face within inches of his sister's sex, then hurriedly placed his middle finger between her parted lips and resumed stroking. "Mmmmmmmm...doitdoitdoit," Jamie groaned, her thighs muscles tightening against his cheek as she rotated her hips. The spicy sex-scent of Jamie's pussy was deep in his nostrils, and as his fingertip circled her clit, he opened his mouth, exhaling onto her ultra-sensitive flesh. "Oh Davie, I'm almost there...." Jamie whined. David could no longer control himself; pulling his finger from her furrow, he wrapped both hands firmly around Jamie's ass cheeks and dragged her pussy to his waiting, hungry mouth. "DAAAVVVVIIIIIDDDDDDDD!!!!" Jamie screamed in ecstasy, clutching her brother's thighs as she came. The orgasm was overwhelming -- it was as if her insides were being slowly shattered. David kept his mouth glued to Jamie's frantically bucking crotch, sucking her pussy lips, flicking his tongue rapidly against her clit, prolonging as best he could his sister's sweet agony. His mouth was filled with Jamie's tangy secretions, but David didn't care; in his passion, he was willing to drink his sister dry, slurp up every last drop of her juices. He pushed his tongue-tip hard against her vaginal entrance, wanting desperately to enter the core of his sister's sex. The opening was clamped shut, however, and as Jamie uttered her last feeble gasps of pleasure, David gave up. Slowly, reluctantly, he released his grip on his sister's ass, then allowed his head to fall backwards onto the bed. For a long while, both kids lay still, panting heavily, not saying a word. It was only the sound of their father, flushing the toilet in the bathroom, that caused them to jump from the bed and pull up their underwear. Wordlessly, they went about the morning routine of getting dressed for the day. That evening, Jamie went to bed early. She didn't wear her usual shorts and t-shirt. She put on her lacy, black panties and a short, sexy, red camisole top that used to be her mother's. Looking in the mirror, Jamie could plainly see the evident curves of her budding body. The slight space between the lacy top and her bikini panties revealed the roundness of her hips and the narrowness of her waist where she had looked so boyish before. She also noticed that her breasts almost (but not quite) filled the sexy bra she wore. Heartened by the sight of her body, Jamie spent even more time in front of the mirror, brushing her hair and pinching her cheeks to give them a red blush. She then scampered into bed and lay waiting for David, her heart beating fast and a strange yearning in her pussy that she had never experienced before. An hour went by as she lay in the dark, but David didn't come. When she had gone up to bed, her father and David were watching a movie on TV. She was sure that she had let her brother know she was going to bed. Where was he? Wasn't she obvious enough? Jamie suddenly felt an odd ache in her chest. She got up from her bed and walked, in the darkness, to David's room. She could tell from the silence that everyone had gone to bed. Why had David rejected her? she wondered as she reached for the doorknob to his room. She could feel the wet trickle of a tear as it dripped down her left cheek. Jamie slowly opened the door to her brother's room. The dim light from the window lit the figure of her brother as he lay in his bed, on his back, with his underpants off and his legs apart. She could hear him pant and see the blur of his hand as he jacked urgently on his large, hard cock. For a long while, Jamie just stood there, wide-eyed and silent, watching her brother masturbate. "David?" she whispered, trying desperately to keep the ache out of her voice. Jamie had never, ever felt so utterly worthless -- or alone. For a split second, David froze, then he became a flurry of motion as he grabbed the bedsheet and frantically yanked it over his exposed crotch. "Hey! Ever hear of knock--" he yelled, but then he suddenly realized that the negligee-clad figure standing in the doorway was his sister. "Huh," he voiced in confusion, and then for the longest time, David just stared; bedsheet in one hand, cock in the other, his eyes glued to his sister's ripe, young body. "Oh, Jamie..." he whispered in awe, "you're gorgeous." Never in all her life had Jamie heard such sweet words. She wanted to yell, jump up and down, scream at the top of her lungs. HE STILL WANTS ME!!! The rush of emotion was so intense her legs started buckling; she grabbed the doorjamb for support. "Why.....why didn't you come!?" Jamie cried at last, her voice echoing both joy and puzzlement. David propped himself up onto his elbows. "Jamie, I....I...." he stopped, then shook his head. "C'mere," he growled. Jamie stumbled to the side of the bed, then dropped to her knees. David rolled onto his side, and Jamie, having laid her head on the mattress, found herself staring straight into her brother's big, dark eyes. "Jamie," David's voice was soft, almost pleading, "look. We can't be doing this -- it's not right. I mean...you're my *sister* for cryin' out loud. I'll get us both in trouble or--" "Why?" Jamie interrupted. "Huh?" "Why ain't it right?" Jamie asked, voice soft and defiant. David stared at his sister in disbelief. "Dammit, Jamie!" he exploded, "I'm supposed to take care of you and protect you, not--." "But I liked it," she interrupted again. Then, softly: "and you did too, didn't you?" Silence. "Ahhhhh, Jamie!" David groaned, putting his hands over his face. A part of Jamie wanted to make her brother pay for not coming to her bed, but even as she wished that, she realized that David was feeling just as miserable as she had earlier -- maybe even more so. Jamie knew, without question, that he wanted to fuck her. Well...maybe not fuck, but he certainly wanted a repeat of that morning; but instead of jumping her bones, David was trying to talk himself (and her) out of it! He was trying to do what he thought was right, trying to be the best brother he could be -- and it only made Jamie want him even more. Slowly, Jamie got to her feet, standing over her brother as he lay curled in the bed. "I turn you on, right?" she asked. Slowly, hesitantly, David dropped the hand covering his face and looked up at his sister. "Uh, well, I....uh.........yea," he finally admitted. "I mean, ever since you got your ti-- I mean, your breasts." "That's okay. So you like my boobs, huh?" Jamie smiled seductively. David shook his head. With deliberate slowness, Jamie peeled the camisole top over her head, dropped it on the bed, then reached one hand behind her back. David heard a muffled 'snap', then watched open-mouthed as the loose-fitting bra fell away from his sister's chest. Jamie shook her shoulders, allowing the straps to fall down her arms. Grabbing the flimsy material, she casually tossed the bra aside, then with open palms, Jamie cupped her firm, luscious, teenage tits; one in each hand. "There, all yours," she said quietly. David pushed his face to his sister's chest, feeling the soft, fleshy mounds against his cheek as he kissed her chest and then her hard left and then right nipple. "Ohhh," Jamie gasped as she gripped his shoulders. As her brother suckled her tits, Jamie felt his hand push down into her panties and down to her pussy. She didn't hesitate to open her legs a little and give him room to explore her most private area as she thrilled to the sexual effects of his mouth on her nipples.David seemed to be overtaken by a lustful frenzy as he sucked his little sister's sweet breasts and pushed his finger deep into her dripping vagina, feeling her soft hair against his knuckles. He wrapped his free arm around her soft, thin waistline and hauled her onto the bed so that she was laying in front of him with her crotch in front of his face. Removing his finger and smelling the sharp spiciness of her female fragrance, David pulled her silken panties down her legs and pushed his face between her thighs, thrilling to her sexual scent as he pressed his mouth against her soft pussy and thrust his tongue between her mons to taste her sweet, syrupy juices. Jamie gasped loudly again as her brother took her sexually with his mouth and tongue. It was the most thrilling sensation she had ever experienced; her brother's face between her thighs and that hot tongue lapping at her clitoris. She wanted to think about how dirty it was... the thing that David was doing to her. But the immense, sexual urge in her was too great and she pushed her upper body to his, feeling his warm, lower belly on her breasts and the tickle of his pubic hair on her cheek. Opening her eyes, Jamie could see her brother's erect penis and hairy testicles right in front of her face while, all the while, she felt the thrills that his mouth was generating in her throbbing pussy. Dreamily, Jamie began to kiss her brother's hard, warm shaft; she heard his gasp (and felt it at her crotch) as she kissed the sensation-charged head of his penis. Propelled by her lust, Jamie licked the head of David's penis and felt it lurch against her lips as she did so. Then, without thinking about anything except the sensations of David licking her pussy, Jamie opened her mouth and took David's penis between her lips and began to suck. "Awwww!" David squealed into his sister's wet pussy as he felt the warmth of her mouth engulf his rod. He began to lick and suck her with a fury even as he felt her return the sexual favors with her lips and tongue. As the tempo of their sexual activity increased, Jamie sensed David's penis releasing a sweet, slippery fluid into her mouth. She delighted in its taste as she licked and sucked him more urgently and wrapped her arms around his buttocks to hold him to her. She could feel herself at the edge of climax and she felt she had to hold onto him to keep from losing herself in the feeling. As his tongue motions took her to the brink and just before he made her body tumble into the abyss of total pleasure, Jamie felt her brother stiffen against her and hold her tightly as his penis began to forcefully spurt a thick, bitter tasting, milky liquid into her mouth. Jamie didn't care because, just after the first spurt, she began to climax herself. It was the strongest orgasm she had ever experienced and she was propelled through it by her brother's licking tongue and the tempo of the throbs of his rigid penis as it shot streams of semen into her sucking mouth. Jamie, in the throes of her climax, swallowed each spurt greedily until both she, and her brother, were totally spent and laying together, panting on the bed.Although he had made love to his sister many, many times, not once had he done it without a condom.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/7402.txt

B. Peale

Just Another Day At The Office

"Come in," Danny called without even bothering to look up from the papers on his desk. Although he heard the door swing open, he didn't acknowledge that someone had entered his office. He was a managing partner...whoever it was could wait until he finished what he was doing. After almost five minutes of playing the waiting game, Carnie finally spoke up. "Mr. Givens? I'm from network support, and I need to..." Danny was outraged; he could not believe that some network support person DARED speak to him before she was addressed. It had been a long time since he'd been a "little people"; he'd forgotten how to be polite. "Young lady," he interrupted, "I don't know who you think you are barging in here with your little task, but...JESUS!" During his tirade, Carnie had moved in front of Danny's desk, waiting patiently for it to end. As he was just getting revved up, he made the mistake of looking up, only to find the most stunning set of breasts he'd ever laid eyes on. Danny had never really been attracted to black women (in fact, he didn't think he'd ever had any desire to fuck one), but Carnie was definitely capable of changing that. Since she was not a member of the consulting staff, she wasn't held to the stricter blue suit, white blouse dress code that women normally had to adhere to. She had a little more flexibility, and used it to her advantage. On a woman of average height, her 44DD breasts would have been large, but not exaggeratedly so; however, Carnie barely stood five feet tall, and might have weighed 100 lbs. with a brick in each pocket. Her skin was a deep, healthy tan, light enough that Danny could see the veins tracing through her magnificent breasts clearly through the pale blue blouse that clung erotically to them. Her nipples were a dark chocolate brown, almost black, about 3.5 inches in diameter, and came to a point almost a half-inch long. It was easy to tell all of this because Carnie wasn't wearing a bra. Carnie's nipples slowly crinkled, growing harder and longer as Danny's intense stare. She smiled as he reflexively licked his lips. "Yes Mr. Givens?" she asked sweetly, her voice sounding both innocent and inviting at the same time. By this time, her nipples were straining so hard against the material of her blouse that Danny was certain they were going to punch right through. "Did I do something wrong?" Danny struggled to regain his composure. In business, he never let the other person know that they'd had an effect on him. "I'm very busy today," he said evenly, his voice calm and level. "What is it that you need in here," he scanned her employee badge, which hung at an obscene angle off of her chest, "...Carnie? Can't it wait until after I've left for the day?" He put in an impressive performance, one that would have been totally believable, except for the fact that, other than when he read her name, he stared at her hardening nipples the entire time. "Well actually, sir, I need to look at your laptop," Carnie said apologetically. "I have to run an inventory, but I promise it will only take a minute." Taking advantage of his apparent distraction, Carnie made her way around to the side of Danny's desk, over to the network port, as she spoke. Danny turned to follow her movement, pleasantly resigned to "endure" the interruption. Hell, this girl was hot! As if to emphasize the point, his cock stirred in his lap, lightly twitching as Carnie's lower half came into view. To Danny's amazement, the rest of Carnie was equally impressive. Her waist was very slim; Danny suspected he could probably encircle it with his hands. Her hips were slender and slightly rounded, and her legs seemed unbelievably long for a woman so small. Her slight heels supported toned, well-muscled calves attached to thighs that could only belong to a distance runner. Once again, Carnie had taken liberties with the dress code, and had opted for a burgundy skirt that showed off her skin color well and, although pleated, stopped at mid thigh. She turned and smiled at Danny, and looked over at his laptop, pushed aside to the far corner of his desk. "Good, you're not logged on. That will make it go even faster. Let me just plug my laptop into the port and fired it up, and I'll be out of here before you can shake a stick." She turned back toward the wall. Was she making fun of him? Danny adjusted his trousers, but kept his eyes on Carnie's back. In a fluid motion, she bent from the waist, unzipped her laptop bag and removed her network cord. She then attached the cord to her laptop, fiddled around for a minute, powered it up, stood up and walked toward Danny's desk. There was no way to hide the effect she was having on him. The front of his suit pants were rigid, his cock filling the slight area tightly, discomfort clear on his face. While she was bent over (which couldn't have lasted more than a minute or two), Danny's cock got harder than it'd been in years; not just hard, but steel bending, rock splitting hard! He confirmed that she wasn't wearing any pantyhose, because when she set up her computer, her skirt rose clear to her ass. Carnie's sense of style extended to her underwear; today, she was wearing a burgundy t-strap to match her skirt. Calling the t-strap clothing was being generous. From what Danny could see, it consisted of a piece of material no thicker than a shoelace that went down the crack of her ass (which was firm, and round, with no hint of flab) and met a similarly small piece of material that should have covered her pussy in the front. However, this material was not up to the daunting challenge, and could only manage to gently separate her outer pussy lips, spreading them so that Danny could see the pink edges when she was in that position. He also saw that she was aroused. Her pussy glistened and the material of her t-strap was damp where it spread her lips. He was surprised that he didn't shoot right there in his pants. The problem was, how could he fuck this woman without ending up on the bad end of a sexual harassment inquiry, if not a racial discrimination charge as well. Carnie walked behind him to his credenza, seemingly oblivious to the raging hard on he was sporting or the obvious lust in his gaze. As she connected the two computers, she bent slightly, and Danny was immediately rewarded with the musky odor of pussy seeping from between her legs. That was more than he could handle. With a soft throaty groan his cock exploded, showering his boxers and suit pants with thick jets of cum. Never in his life had he ever cum without someone at least touching him! The beeps and tones indicated that Danny's computer was nearing the completion of the boot up sequence. With Carnie's back to him, Danny hastily slid his soiled lap under his desk. Breathing deeply to steady his voice, Danny asked as casually as he could manage, "So, how is this inventory different from the one that my assistant did last week?" "Oh, that was a property inventory. This is a software inventory." "Software inventory?" "Yes, a software inventory. We have to make sure that all of the software loaded is properly licensed, and that there are no files present that are against company policies." "Files?" Danny asked uneasily. "Yeah, illegal software, pornographic pictures, that sort of thing.There is a lot of strange stuff out there, and since the laptops are company property, we periodically check to make sure that there is nothing on them that could unduly expose the firm. I have auditing software on my laptop that scans your hard drive and then uploads the results to the central system. When I go back to my office, I download the results and submit my reports to corporate. Danny hadn't heard a word she said after "pornographic pictures." Shit, did he have any on there? It was amazing what you could find these days on the Internet. Once or twice a week, he would go out to the websites and newsgroups and download some pictures, then jerk off as they scrolled across the screen. What harm did it do? He'd always thought. He usually deleted them when he was done, but he couldn't remember if he did the last time. Shit! Danny realized that he hadn't heard any noise from the computers in a little while. "Everything OK?" "Almost done. Just one more test to finish, but it's the longest. We have software that can analyze a hard drive and retrieve any files that have been deleted, unless certain precautions were taken, which they almost never are." As if on cue, Carnie's laptop started to beep. "Hmm, what's this?" Danny's heart fell into the pit of his stomach. He decided that it was better to pretend that he was still working and that he wasn't paying attention to anything that she was doing. His mind was racing, trying to come up with a way to get out of what he now knew was inevitable. "Ho-ho Mr. Givens, it appears that you're pretty good with a search engine," Carnie chuckled. "You've got quite a collection of files here." He could hear her fingers pressing a series of keys as she retrieved the pictures Danny thought had been erased. "And varied interests, I see..." Believing that the best defense is a good offense, Danny interrupted. "Look, Carnie, there are a couple of pictures on there that I looked at on the road to help me relieve the stress of a long day. There's no crime in that." "True," Carnie admitted as she walked around the credenza and perched her cute little ass on the edge of the desk facing him. He was still sitting with his lap under the desk to hide his cum-soaked lap. "But it is in direct violation of company policy. I think it's grounds for dismissal, but I'm not sure what would happen to a managing partner. Never caught one before; most scrub their drives." Shit, Danny thought again. "You know I could have you fired before you got back to your desk, don't you?" It was true; in a firm this size, there were 4 managing partners, each with absolute dominion over all but the other 3. Carnie nodded. "Yes, you could. But it wouldn't help. The information has already been fed; my work would just get reassigned and the data would still be accessed." Danny slumped in his seat. The worst thing was, he really couldn't be fired. He could, however, be humiliated in front of the 3 other managing partners, as well as the partners on the discipline committee. In his dejection, Danny failed to notice that two thick points hard enough to cut diamonds now capped Carnie's nipples. As she reached across him to pick up the photo sitting on his desk, they brushed against his arm. He snatched his hand away; the heat and the hardness actually hurt! "This your family, Danny?" Danny nodded. He noticed that she had dropped the "Mr. Givens" and had now assumed a tone of familiarity reserved for peers. "It sure would be a shame to drag them through something public and embarrassing." Danny looked up, a glint in his eyes. He was, after all, first and foremost a political animal, and recognized the opening of a negotiation when he heard it. "Yes. Yes, it would be too bad." He had no misconceptions about the awkward control Carnie now held over him. "I care for them very much; I'd rather spare them that." "I could understand that. We may be able to work something out." "How?" Danny asked. "Danny, Danny, Danny. I told you, I have to file a report. As long as I am employed here, no one has access to the files but me. Even Everett can't get to them as long as I am an employee," she said, referring to the managing partner responsible for internal IS. "Oh?" Danny saw the floodlights go on in his mind's tunnel. Hell, there wasn't light at the end, there was a whole fucking sun! "So, how much is this going to cost me?" She was reasonable. He couldn't imagine her asking for some ridiculously unjustifiable amount. Carnie slowly shook her head. "Oh Danny, it's not going to be that easy. No, not that easy at all." Still leaning against the desk, Carnie crossed her legs at the ankles. "We are talking about the career of a managing partner here." "Oh, come on! Let's not get melodramatic!" Danny felt like he was on a roller coaster, scott free one minute, facing the inquisition the next. Carnie uncrossed her legs and stood up and walked back to the credenza. "Fine. I've got work to do anyway." She began humming to herself as she powered down her laptop and began putting the peripherals away. Danny panicked. Forgetting the wet spot in his lap, he pushed the chair back and whipped the chair around. Because of her height, it was easy to grab Carnie's shoulders. "Look, I'm sorry. This is hard for me. What do I have to do to get you to fix this for me?" Carnie smiled as she snapped her case shut. She'd won; they both knew it. "First, you need to tell your assistant that you are going to be on a conference call for a while, and that he is to take any calls for you until you call him back. Then put your telephone on 'Do Not Disturb.'" While Danny picked up the telephone to comply, Carnie went back around to his desk and hopped up on it. As he placed the receiver back in the cradle, she slid over so that she straddled his chair, one leg on each arm. "Carnie, shouldn't I lock the door?" He had a good idea what was coming. "No. It's more fun this way. Let's see how good your assistant is." With her legs spread, her skirt rose above her hips, revealing a very thin piece of material failing miserably to cover a totally shaven pussy. Her outer lips were swollen from arousal, and the material was soaking wet. Enough moisture had collected behind her inner lips that when she spread her legs, it slowly dripped out and pooled in a puddle just under her ass. The scent coming from her pussy now was 30 times stronger than it was earlier; Danny felt dizzy, it was so overpowering. "So Danny, are you just going to sit there, or what?" Danny wasn't sure what she expected, so he just went with his instincts. He leaned forward, using his index fingers to move the t-strap aside and spread her outer lips, and slowly began to trail his pointed tongue up her crack, starting down near her asshole and moving all the way up to her clit. She shivered, then grabbed hold of his shoulders for support. Encouraged, he flattened his tongue out, covering more of her pussy as he lapped. He probed deeper, tasting her, feeling the warm wetness of her pussy. He was rock hard again, but he knew that this was all about her, and it might jeopardize things if he tried to relieve himself. She scooted forward a little, giving him better access to her asshole, which surprisingly was clean but musky tasting. He darted his tongue several times into her asshole on his way up, and was rewarded with a low guttural moan from Carnie. Her pussy was getting wetter and wetter, and he hoped that she would let him fuck her soon, because he was going crazy with her writhing and rocking in his face like this. After a while, he started to spend more time around her clit, which was hard and throbbing and peeking up through her inner lips. He began to suck her clit strongly, then to nibble, while she whispered encouragement to him. On a whim, he reached up and slid an unlubricated finger into her asshole while he nibbled on her button. Involuntarily, her hips bucked and she mashed her pussy hard into his face. He responded by thrusting the finger in and out of her asshole rapidly, while softly biting on her clit to the same rhythm. Carnie started fucking Danny's face and whimpering. She reached over and grabbed a ruler Danny had been using to do his work earlier, shoved it in her mouth and bit down. Then she grabbed a thick black nipple between the thumb and forefinger of each hand through her blouse and started to pinch them forcefully in time with the thrusts in her ass and the assault on her clit. Within moments, a low, guttural moan wafted up, seeming to start from her pussy and move up and through her chest. Danny had never heard anything like it, and immediately came in his pants again. He moaned deep into her pussy, setting Carnie off again. When she'd finished her second orgasm, she pulled herself back into a sitting position, leaned forward, and kissed him deeply on the lips. "Not a bad start, Danny. That was amazing." "Start?" Danny asked breathlessly. Carnie chuckled. Reaching down, she rubbed her t-strap between her pussy lips, and tore it off. She then wiped around his mouth and nose, and dropped it in his lap. "That's what I said. Start." Danny sat back in his chair, dumbstruck. "Now, pick up the phone and call your wife. Tell her you have to go out of town on business, and that you'll be back tomorrow night." She smiled. "I'll be done with you by then, and you'll have your life and career back." Woodenly, Danny picked up the telephone, punched in seven digits, mumbled something lame about a client emergency, and hung up. "Let's not cause any suspicion," Carnie said as he replaced the receiver. "I'll meet you at the, let's see..." she thought a moment. "I know, the Embassy Suites on Wisconsin. There's a firm suite there that you guys use for out of town muckety mucks. I'll meet you there at 6:30." It was 11:45 now.She hopped off the desk, walked over to the credenza, and grabbed her laptop. At the doorway, she stopped before she pulled it open and turned back to him. "Eat well, today. You're going to need your strength." She smiled, pulled the door open and left, leaving it ajar. Danny looked down at the t-strap laying in his lap and his cock stirred again. End of Part 1

Part 1

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/18029.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 for the past few years 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 Chatterly'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, he invite some of his friends home for what I can only term by the coarse title of GangBang. 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, despite 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 only two of them, and that Jeff intended to be the third 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. 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, 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. Billy 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 starting 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, gram." 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 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 whatever 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!" Jeff interrupted. "There are other players here, you know?" Reluctantly, we resumed our seats, and I retained my grip on Billy's lovely 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 think I like this 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?" "Yeah," 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, 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. Billy 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 Billy'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. Billy's hand reached between my legs and unsnapped the crotch of my bustier. My mouth intensified its enjoyment of Billy'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 Billy. 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. Mmm, 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 my 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 table top. 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 parted my pussy lips and washed 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 ship 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 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 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. I was full of happiness and still feeling lively in spite of the total loving I had just had. More wine was poured and the boys still had some party games in mind. They asked if I was still game. "Do you have to ask? I said. On with the games!" End of Chapter One May Be Continued Later If Any Interest Is Expressed Comments jbellamy@renman.netny.us> | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | <http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/>----<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq.

Chapter 1

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/16572.txt

Mr Pornwriter

Schoolboy Sissy Slut

"Ahem, and what have you been up to?" inquired Andrew as David walked into the house still in a disheveled state from his earlier ordeal. Lisa and he had parted company near to her house. She'd pecked him on the cheek and told him she'd see him in school the next day. "Lisa and I met up with some boys in the park. She looks just the same," he added, trying to make his father angry with Lisa for acting like a slut. Instead, Andrew Merton let out a throaty laugh and collapsed in a chair. "Ha, she's something else, isn't she!" David, annoyed that his ploy didn't work, stormed upstairs and into the bathroom. He slipped out of his dress and peeled off his stockings, bra, and panties. He quickly jumped under the shower and immersed himself under the jets of lukewarm water. Standing naked in the shower cubicle, he was still a boy. But this was the only time, he realized. On every other occasion, he'd have to dress as a girl. He didn't even own any boy's clothes anymore! David tried to think of a way out of the ongoing nightmare he was starring in. If only there was someone he could talk to, someone he could trust. He finished his shower and dried himself off, closely examining his little hairless boy prick as he did so. Why couldn't he have a big penis like Ashley Darren and Tony, or even a normal-sized cock? The young teen pulled on his insignificant lump of gristle, but it wasn't interested in getting hard. Sighing, David went to his room and buried his head in his pillows. Later on that evening, Andrew Merton quizzed him thoroughly on the events in the park while David did their ironing in his nightdress and dressing gown. His father laughed in places and enthusiastically agreed with Lisa's choice of name for him. After he'd involuntarily recounted the day's ordeal in great detail, Andrew rushed off to make a telephone call in private, leaving David to finish ironing his new school skirt. Monday mornings always felt bad, but for David this was especially so. He was now expected to go to school dressed as a girl. When the alarm clock sounded at 7:30 a.m., he pulled himself out of bed and dragged himself to the bathroom and under the shower. After that, he sat down at his dressing table and tried to remember how Lisa had styled his hair the day before. David knew he had to look good. His father had warned him the night before that he better make a good job of his appearance, or he'd be sorry. Especially after Lisa had spent all that time teaching him the art of hair styling and makeup. After a couple of attempts, David got his hair and makeup to look pretty much the way it did when Lisa helped him. Next, he put on some white cotton panties and bra and some long white socks which ended just above his knee. Then came the short blue pleated skirt and white blouse. Lifting up the collar, he did up the stripy school tie and put on the blazer, complete with the school emblem around which was some writing in Latin which hadn't been explained to him. After slipping on some simple black slip-on shoes, David stared at himself in the full-length mirror on his wardrobe door. He was ready for school, but he was also resolute that this would be his last time in girl's clothes. Andrew Merton was already eating breakfast when David walked into the kitchen. He greeted his son/daughter with a soft wolf-whistle. "You look wonderful, Debbie, truly wonderful," his father complimented. David said nothing but sat down at the table and poured a little cereal into a bowl. Andrew couldn't keep his eyes off his offspring. He wanted to lean her over the table and fuck her sweet arse there and then, but he managed to control his urge. Instead, he took in all the details: the rings, a necklace and matching earrings, and the carefully manicured and painted fingernails that delicately wrapped around her spoon as she daintily ate her breakfast. A father couldn't have been more proud than he was, of his beautiful little girl. At half-past eight, Andrew told his angel that it was time for her to go to school. David picked up his pink school bag and walked towards the door. "Just a minute," Andrew called out, and stood up next to his new daughter. Andrew Merton bent down and softly kissed his little girl on the lips, and then wished her good luck on her first day at school. Debbie Merton closed her front door behind her and tentatively began the walk to school, just like David Merton had the week before. She timed it so she arrived shortly before the bell went for registration. The last thing she wanted was to have to parade around the playground. Instead, the new pretty schoolgirl made her way to the form room, avoiding eye contact with anyone she met on her way. It was a relief to find the form room empty, and she sat down at her desk. Soon the bell rang, and the rest of the class came barging in to the room. On seeing the new girl, they all fell silent and walked quietly to their places and sat down. There was only the faintest of smiles on Debbie's fellow students' faces as the elderly Mr. Owen walked into the room and sat down at his desk. "Good morning, everyone," he said as he opened the registration book. "Good morning, Mr. Owen," the class all promptly answered, except Debbie who sat there clasping her hands with painted fingernails in front of her. Mr. Owen then proceeded to take the register. "Simon Forester?" called the teacher. "Here, Sir," called back one of the boys from the back of the class as his hand shot up in the air. "Brian Jackson?" "Here, sir," Brian called out, and he half raised his hand as the form teacher looked up and ticked against his name. "Haley Langham?" As a girl two rows in front answered her name, Debbie realized that her, or rather David's name would be called out next. This is where this absurd twisted nightmare will end, thought Debbie. When David's name... HIS name was called, the truth would surely come out, and all this would be over. She would call out when her old name was called, and Mr. Owen would look up and have a mild stroke. After which, he would demand to know just what the hell was going on, and Debbie could blurt out the whole story and wait while the police and social services turned up. "Debbie Merton?" Silence... Debbie was in severe shock! She felt her heart beating wildly under her blouse and foam-filled bra. "Debbie Merton?" Mr. Owen asked again, this time more loudly. Debbie felt an elbow dig sharply in her side. She looked round and saw another girl looking impatiently at her. They were all looking at her! Mr. Owen slowly brought his face up from out of the registration folder and pulled his reading glasses down over his nose. He fixed his eyes on Debbie. Her mind was in a state of confusion and bewilderment. "Debbie!" Mr. Owen's voice was cold, not like the kindly Mr. Owen who welcomed David Merton to the school exactly a week ago. "I shan't ask you again. Now answer your name!" he demanded. "I..." Debbie's words were stuck in her throat. Was Mr. Owen senile? Did he not realize that the girl he was addressing as Debbie Merton was a boy called David Merton just days ago? Tears welled up in the eyes of the pretty young schoolgirl. She reached for a handkerchief and gently dabbed her eye, careful not to smudge her subtle eyeliner and mascara that she'd applied that morning carefully. The whole of the class looked daggers at her; their indignant faces astonished that Debbie didn't speak. What was the matter with the girl? Why didn't she answer her name? Finally, Debbie could take it no more.This shy little flower couldn't stand all the attention she was getting. She just wanted to be liked by people. She wanted to have lots of friends with whom she could chat and laugh, instead of being ostracized and laughed at. She took a deep breath, her small bosom pressing firmly against her crisp, white school blouse. "Sorry, sir... I'm here," she softly spoke. There was almost an audible sigh around the classroom as the tension broke amongst her classmates. Mr. Owen's face became its softer, kinder self, and Debbie thought she saw a hint of a wry smile as her form teacher put a tick against her name and buried his face once more in the big book. "Colin Peters?" Mr. Owen continued with his class's registration. When the bell went for the school assembly, the students stood up and drifted towards the door and off down the corridor to the main hall. Debbie was the last to stand and make her way to the doorway. "Oh, Debbie," Mr. Owen said, suddenly looking up from his desk. Debbie turned round to face her teacher, who stood himself and walked towards her. "Tell your father that I'll expect him for drinks around seven-thirty this evening." Debbie was in a daze, but managed to nod and say okay. She started to turn away when she felt the elderly teacher's arm slip round her waist and his other hand reach under the back of her skirt. Mr. Owen pressed his fingers against the tight cotton panties and felt along the crack of her backside and up until he felt his hand inside her waistband, fondling the bare cheeks of her bottom. Mr. Owen's index finger rubbed at the thirteen-year-old's tight anus and pushed until he felt the tip of his finger slide snugly into the little slut's hot arse. "And ask Andrew to make sure his schoolboy sissy slut of a daughter is wearing something nice and frilly when he brings her over tonight." Mr. Owen slowly removed his finger from Debbie's bum-hole and popped it in his mouth, savoring the taste of her anal passage. "Right, off you go." Mr. Owen playfully slapped her behind as she left the room. Debbie entered the big hall where the whole school was gathering for the usual Monday morning assembly before lessons. As she gazed around, trying to recognize someone from her class so she'd know where to sit, a hand grabbed hers and pulled her sideways. "Oh wow! You look fantastic!" exclaimed Lisa as she pulled Debbie down to sit next to her, Cheryl, and Tracy. "We're all going to have so much fun, it'll be great," continued Lisa. "I'm so excited, you're going to fit right in." "All the boys are talking about you. What did you and Lisa get up to in the park yesterday?" giggled Tracy. "One of the fifth-year boys is having a party on Friday night, and you're invited," Cheryl told her. Suddenly the hall hushed as the Headmaster entered from a side door and made his way up to the stage. Mr. Sterling was a serious man in his late fifties. He didn't tolerate any lapse in discipline, and every pupil at Fairmount Secondary School made sure they kept out of his way. Of course, thought David. Why didn't I think of him before? If there's one person who won't stand for this crazy nonsense, it's the Headmaster! Once I explain what's been going on, he'll have to do something about it! David had felt his resolve soften back there in his form room. He'd almost accepted the feminine role he'd been forced to play the past week. But now he felt stronger, more determined than ever to put things right, to punish those who'd abused and tormented him. The Head reached the podium and laid open some notes he'd been carrying. The need for David to get the whole torrid events of the past week out into the open was driving the young boy crazy. The one person who would listen and understand was standing on the stage right now! "Pupils of Fairmount Secondary School. Today I'd like to talk to you about this year's appeal in aid of the starving children of Africa..." "Wait!" David heard himself shout out loud, and suddenly he was on his feet. The Headmaster stopped what he was saying, and the whole of the school looked round to see who'd dared to interrupt the assembly. David felt Lisa tugging on his arm to try to get him to sit down, but he pulled his arm away and started to move towards the front of the hall. "What on earth..." the Headmaster started to say. "Please, sir, I've got to talk to you right now. It's really important!" David was weaving his way through the seated girls and boys, until he reached the main aisle leading to the stage. David noticed the Deputy Head, Mr. Bates, trying to head him off, and Mr. Owen was doing his best to reach him as well. The persecuted schoolboy broke into a run, determined to get to the stage before one of his abusers could prevent him from reaching the Headmaster. With a burst of sprinting, David got to the stairs at the bottom of the stage and climbed them two at a time, his short skirt flailing around his legs. He finally reached the top and stood facing the Headmaster. "Please, sir, my name's David Merton, but I've been made to dress like a girl." He pointed to the bottom of the stairs, where the Deputy Headmaster was just making his ascent. "And Mr. Bates and my father raped me!" he shouted. Loud gasps echoed around the hall as they heard the schoolgirl's accusations. "Enough!" shouted the Headmaster. The hall immediately fell silent. Robert Bates and some of the other teachers had joined them on the stage. The Headmaster looked sternly at David. "I will NOT allow pupils of this school to come screaming and shouting, interrupting MY assembly with absurd remarks about members of my staff." The Head's voice thundered around the hall, making some of the younger children visibly shake with fear, and some of the older pupils too. "But..." "SILENCE!" The Headmaster turned to his Deputy and lowered his voice. "Mr. Bates, take hold of this young girl. I think she needs teaching a lesson." "Certainly, Mr. Sterling." Before David could react, Robert Bates grabbed hold of him and forced him to his knees. He pushed down on his shoulders so that he was left kneeling facing the stage curtain, with his bottom facing upwards towards the stunned audience. The Headmaster turned back to his pupils. "To show everyone that this sort of behavior will NOT be tolerated, and to teach this young lady a lesson she won't forget..." David tried to scream, but Mr. Bates smothered his mouth with his hand. "...the WHOLE school will help this troublemaker see the error of her ways!" Mr. Sterling looked over to one of the teachers near the front of the stage. "Mrs. Jenkins. Have the first-year pupils line up and lead them up here," he told her. The female teacher stood up and gave instructions to the youngest boys and girls of the school. The students, aged about eleven, were marched up the stairs and onto the stage. Mr. Sterling walked over to where David was being held and lifted his skirt, tucking the hem into his waistband. Then he took hold of David's white panties and slid them down his thighs until they rested around his knees. David couldn't believe what was happening. The Headmaster had now exposed his naked behind to the whole school! The Head turned back to the children. "Each pupil will come up here and spank Miss Merton firmly on her behind. If any one of you don't administer a hard enough blow, then you will be told to strike her again." David squirmed violently, but was unable to move. There are over eight hundred pupils at Fairmount, he thought to himself. Oh, shit! "Right, off you go," he instructed the eleven-year-olds. The pupil in line to take the first blow was a little boy. He nervously walked up behind David and glanced up at the Headmaster. "Would you like me to show you how it's done?" he gently asked the youngster. "Yes, please, sir." Mr. Sterling motioned him out of the way and positioned himself just behind and to the side of David's bottom. Smaaaaack! The whole hall flinched as the Head delivered the first blow to David's buttocks, not least David himself, who let out a short shriek. The Head then stood aside, and the little boy tried to emulate the teacher's actions. Smack! He didn't have the power of Mr. Sterling, but he gave it everything he had. "Okay, sit down," the Head told the eleven-year-old. Next on the 'hit list' was a young female classmate. She wasted no time and immediately struck David's left buttock with her tiny hand. Smack! "Owww!" Mr. Bates had loosened his grip over David's mouth as he figured that the Head would want everyone to hear the yelps. And so it continued... By the time the whole of the first year had their turn, David was openly sobbing. After the second-year students finished with him, the cross-dressed teenager was wailing with tears. Then came his own year, the third year. They seemed to relish the opportunity to spank a naughty schoolgirl, especially the girls. They made sure their blows really counted, and soon David was screaming for them to stop. Mr. Sterling squatted down next to David and whispered in his ear. "What's the matter, David? Aren't you enjoying yourself? I am. I haven't had so much fun since they let me out of the zoo last week." David's mind went into overdrive as he tried to figure out what the Headmaster was telling him. Mr. Sterling bent closer to David and whispered into his ear. "Don't be afraid of Gus The Gorilla." The scream could be heard from outside the school grounds. ******** THE END ********

Part 11 - Will She or Won't He

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/13508.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 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 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." A yawn interrupted 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/Year98/15670.txt

Ann Douglas

Snowbound

"Did your desk clerk tell you that we'd need an extra room for Ilyssia?" Sean asked. "An extra room?" Bobby repeated. "No, he just told me that you'd called and said that you were bringing a girl with you. I just assumed that...." Seeing where Bobby was headed, Sean quickly cut him off. "Bobby, she's a friend of my daughter's," he said in a lower tone. "I happened to run into her at the airport." "Shit, Sean, I believe you," Bobby replied. "But even if that idiot clerk had gotten your phone message straight, I don't have another room to be had. I've even had my staff quad up in order to rent out their rooms." Sean turned and looked at Ilyssia for a moment, a look of apology on his face. "Of course I suppose I could give her my room and bunk in with you," Bobby mused. "I did save you my best room, it's up on the second floor." Sean realized the offer Bobby was making. Ever since he lost the use of his legs, Bobby never slept anywhere but on the first floor of a building. He had a terrible fear of fire and was forever worried about being trapped on the second floor. "No, Bobby, that won't be necessary," Sean said. "We'll make do." "I'll do it, you know that," Bobby said. "I know you would, but I don't want you to," Sean said. "All right, but you know how I feel about you, pal," Bobby said. "If it wasn't for you, I'd be laying in a plot in some Veteran's Cemetery instead of in this chair. It might not have been a perfect life, but it's still a life." The bearded man had caught Ilyssia's interest. He could tell that she'd been wondering about the connection between the two men. "Don't let this old fart fool you," Bobby said to Ilyssia. "He's one of the bravest men I've ever known." "Bobby, let's not get into this," Sean said, somewhat embarrassed. "It was back in '65, when old LBJ was President," Bobby said, determined to tell his story. "We were two of the lucky ones who got to spend their summer vacations in beautiful, tropical, South Vietnam." Sean was now clearly annoyed but Ilyssia was totally fascinated. Bobby was talking about names and places she'd only seen in a history book. "We were on guard duty one night in Tuy Hoa, up by Highway One, when Charlie opened up with a mortar barrage," Bobby said as his eyes saw images from decades past. "So like the brave soul I was, I froze. Just like that, scared stiff. Then the lights go out as I catch some fragments from a round that landed way too close. Next thing I know, Sean here grabs hold of me and carries me into a ditch, saving what was left of my miserable life." "Bobby, how many times do I have to tell you. There was nothing brave about it," Sean interjected. "I was diving for the ditch and you were between me and it. I had to knock you into it in order to get by." "Bullshit!" Bobby thundered. "I'm not going to sit here and let this little lady think you were some kind of coward." Quickly he turned his attention back to Ilyssia. "What he's not telling you, pretty lady, is that once the shelling stopped, Charlie started to storm the base. Sean here picks me up and carries me a half mile through the jungle and around the flank of the VC attack. All the while, the SOB is bleeding like a mother... like a stuck pig, from a fragment he caught in his own leg. It was enough to get us both shipped home." Ilyssia knew the story was true. She'd seen the long jagged scar on Sean's leg numerous times over the years when she'd been over to swim in the O'Shaughnessey's pool. Sean would never explain how he'd got it, just that it was an old injury. "Okay, history lessons over," Sean said, changing the subject. "I think it's time we turned in." "Room 214," Bobby said as he handed them a set of keys, now satisfied that he'd said his piece. "Just off the top of the stairs." As Sean leaned over to take the keys, Bobby whispered too low for Ilyssia to hear. "I'm afraid it only has a double bed, pal," he said. "But maybe you can string a blanket across the middle like they did in those old movies," he laughed. "Bobby never changes," Sean thought as he picked up his bag and began to follow Ilyssia up the stairs. "He's still incorrigible. But then, that's why I still love him so." True to his word, Bobby had saved the best room in the house for his friend. It wasn't the Hilton, but it was more than comfortable. Most of the rooms on the first floor had been cut in half and reconstructed to accommodate the hourly trade. "It's pretty nice, you have to admit," Sean noted. "Right now, all I care about is that it has a hot shower," Ilyssia said. "I feel like I've been in these clothes for days." "Well the bathroom's all yours," Sean said as he tossed his bag on the bed and opened it to get out his stuff. The sound of running water filled the room as he heard Ilyssia turn on the shower. Sean tried to block out the image of the young woman behind the thin door, now devoid of clothes and stepping under the warm stream. There was no denying that Lisa, now Ilyssia, had grown into a quite desirable young woman. In fact, she was even more attractive than her mother at her age. The Giordano's had been one of the first couples they had become friendly with when they moved to Spring Valley. After first meeting Donna Giordano, Sean was almost sorry that they had left their spouse swapping days behind them. He didn't blame Bobby for assuming that he had brought her there to help warm his bed. As if a young woman like that would be interested in an old fossil like him. Still, a man could fantasize, no harm in that after all. Sitting in the room, continuing to listen to the sound of running water through the thin walls, Sean thought back to when Kimberly and Lisa were still teens. It wasn't uncommon for the two of them, as well as some of their friends, to sleep over. Many Sunday mornings he would come down to the living room and find a half dozen girls in various types of undergarments spread around the room. Most of them totally oblivious of the effect their budding bodies were having on the male of the species. At least in those early years, because he suspected that as they grew, they learned that lesson rather quickly. He had to suppress a smile as he thought of the night he caught his youngest son, Kevin, spying on the girls after Kimberly's 16th birthday party. The 14-year-old was hiding in the hallway and playing with his cock as he tried to get a look while the girls changed clothes. Getting that look himself as he sent Kevin back to his room, Sean realized that none of them were little girls anymore. Heading up the stairs, Sean noticed that like his son, he was sporting a first-class hard-on. The next morning, Amanda commented that she couldn't remember the last time he'd come to bed so horny or when they'd spent so much of the night making love. Yes, it didn't hurt to fantasize. The hot water splashing against her skin felt so good to Ilyssia. How much better this was than spending the night in the airport. She let her mind drift as she soaped up the washcloth and ran it across her small, rounded breasts. Imagine Sean O'Shaughnessey being some kind of hero in Vietnam. Someone who actually did some of the things in the history books she read in school. She couldn't imagine anyone having done something like that and then keeping it a secret all these years. Ilyssia had always had somewhat of a crush on Kimberly's dad. She thought most of the girls in their circle did. Of all the dads, they thought he was the coolest. Even on those nights when they huddled together and talked about who they'd like to do it with, Mr. O'Shaughnessey's name sometimes found its way into the discussion. Of course, never when Kimberly was around, and always with the provision that 'if only he wasn't so much older than they were.' It was funny, she thought as she ran the washcloth between her legs, the gap between their ages didn't seem so big now. Even though he was now past fifty, he seemed closer to her 24 years than when he was only 42 and she was 16. "I guess that's because we're both adults now," Ilyssia thought as she took hold of her long hair and ran the hot water through it. "I guess the older you get, the less age matters."She thought of Cynthia Moskowitz, a girl who had worked for the firm last summer. She had left to marry a much older man. He was 56 and she was 23. People kept saying how she was throwing her life away. After all, most of the girls in the office said, it wasn't like the guy was rich or anything. He wasn't even handsome, most said. The bulk of men in the office just kind of smirked and whispered comments to each other about how the groom was a lucky so-and-so. Ilyssia remembered being close enough to hear when Sally Levin cornered Cynthia in the ladies' room one afternoon and actually asked her how she could go to bed with such an old guy. Rather than be intimidated by her presumption, Cynthia looked Sally right in the eyes and said it was easy -- because he was a great fuck! She added that Sally could keep on humping the teenage delivery boys, something that was almost an open secret among the girls in the office, but that there was no substitute for experience. "I wonder what it would be like," Ilyssia asked herself. "To actually sleep with Sean." It was a question she had considered many times as a teenager, but this was the first time it had been answered by a sudden tingling between her legs. As he heard the water in the bathroom shut off, Sean was considering the sleeping arrangements for the night. While the king-size bed was certainly large enough for both of them, perhaps prudence dictated that he take the couch. It didn't look too uncomfortable. While it would never occur to him to take advantage of the situation, he didn't trust himself not to innocently roll over during the night and reach out for the warm body next to him. He still had erotic dreams some nights and would rather not tempt fate. It might be too embarrassing. "Oh, that felt great," Ilyssia said as she stepped out of the bathroom, her now clean body concealed only by the small wrap-around towel that she'd found inside. Stripped of the plain travel suit she'd been wearing at the airport, it was immediately obvious how much Ilyssia had changed in the years since the last time Sean had seen her. The long blond hair which had been wrapped up in a bun now hung free around her shoulders. Just below her hair, only partially concealed by the cheap towel, stood a pair of round, firm breasts. Below the other end of the covering, which ended only an inch or so below her crotch, stretched out a pair of long, smooth legs. "Bathroom's all yours," she smiled with a warmth that could melt the snow piled up on the windowsill. "Definitely the couch," Sean said to himself as he stepped past Ilyssia into the bathroom. The bathroom mirror was still steamed up as Sean began to shave. Thankfully, he had been doing it for so long that he could do it by touch alone. Wiping the last of the lather from his face, he caught the last vestiges of Ilyssia's perfume in the air. It had the scent of jasmine. "Ah, if only it was 1971 again," Sean mused, remembering what it had been like when he was Ilyssia's age. Sean initially turned on the shower's cold water, both to clear his head and to help take care of the small matter of an erection he'd gotten from watching her march across the room. Some things were still the same after all. He could have taken advantage of his hard-on and masturbated, he'd gotten quite good at that lately, but the lack of a lock on the bathroom door put that idea far from his mind. Not that he expected her to walk in on him or anything like that, but it was possible for her to hear him. He remembered the sound the toilet seat in his old house used to make when one of the boys used to be in there playing with themselves. Actually, it made pretty much the same sound when Kimberly used it for the same purpose. Until he saw her come walking out, he had been sure it was one of the boys in there. Ever the caring father, he took the time to grease the bolts holding down the seat, eliminating the noise for good. Switching the temperature to hot, Sean closed his eyes and wallowed in the tepid torrent. His body didn't used to hurt so much. He made a note to find time in his schedule to get to the health club more. Running his hands through his short hair, he took note that the salt-and-pepper hair was more of the former than the latter. Well, he should be happy, he told himself, too many of his friends had all lost their hair. Washing his balls, he discovered that despite the cold shower, his erection was still partially there. He slid his hand up and down the length of his cock, enjoying the feel of his soapy touch. "Little chance of Ilyssia hearing me in here," the older man thought as he began pumping his cock back to its original hardness. Sean kept his eyes closed as he leaned back against the tile wall and played with his cock. Later on, he knew, he would be angry with himself. It wasn't right that he always found himself having only solitary sex. Once of these days he really should take up one of those offers of dinner and such that the women around him kept dropping. But for now, he was content just to rest against the wall and enjoy the sensations. "Can I help you with that?" Sean suddenly heard a soft voice ask him, a voice only inches away. Before he could even open his eyes, he felt the touch of a gentle hand replace his own around his pulsating cock. "Lisa!" Sean called out as he realized the situation. "Don't freak out on me now," she smiled as she pressed her naked body against his, running her free hand through his soapy chest hairs. "I think I'm probably as nervous as you are right now. If I stop to think about what I'm doing, I'm going to lose my nerve." Sean opened his mouth to respond, but found his words cut off as Ilyssia's lips pressed against his, her tongue invading his mouth. The young woman wasn't giving him any time to think about what was happening. Five minutes before, Ilyssia had steeled her nerve and opened the bathroom door just enough to peek in. She recognized the way Sean had looked at her when she'd come out of the bathroom. The 24-year-old had seen it on enough men over the years. She had also noticed the rising bulge in his pants as he excused himself into the bathroom. It was now or never. That small tingle she'd experienced earlier had blossomed into a flame as she watched Sean strip. She didn't expect him to have the body of a 30-year-old, but what she saw wasn't bad. Obviously, Sean paid attention to his physical well-being. Much of his body hair was a mixture of gray/white, especially that around his cock. That, however, was as long and hard as any guy her age. Dropping the small towel to the floor, the young blond took a deep breath and decided to go for it. "Ilyssia, we shouldn't be doing this," Sean said as he broke the kiss. "I'm old enough to be your father, and you're a..." "I'm a grown woman who knows what she wants and isn't afraid to go after it," Ilyssia completed his sentence. "And you're not my father, so let's not even go there." It was hard to argue with a young woman holding your cock. That was a fact that Sean had learned very early in life. It was equally obvious that Ilyssia wasn't about to relinquish her prize. "Fuck!" Sean said in exasperation, knowing that he didn't have the willpower to say no a second time. "I thought you'd never ask," Ilyssia laughed as she gave him a quick kiss on the lips. Dropping to her knees in the tight shower, the young woman quickly guided Sean's cock into her waiting mouth. A sudden rush ran through her as she thought about what she was doing. It was almost like incest. An idea that also occurred to Sean as he looked down at the naked form of his almost-daughter. Captivated, Sean watched his hard cock slide in and out of her eager mouth, delighting in the wonderful sensations her tongue produced as it swirled up and down his manhood. It would take a lot more than a sudden act of conscience to make him stop this now. The building would have to be burning down, and even then he might hesitate a little. "Oh God, yes!" he moaned as Ilyssia ran her darting tongue down the entire 7" length of his cock and down across his balls. "Oh baby, yes." Ilyssia never enjoyed a blow job more. Hearing his words of encouragement just drove her to want more. She slid his cock back into her mouth, letting it slide as far back as it would go. She felt Sean's hands at the back of her head as he began to fuck her mouth. Having him take an active part in their play just added to the turn-on. She let it go on for a little while longer, then managed to free her mouth. "I don't want you to come so easily," she said as she stood back up. Sean understood her concern. Long gone were the days when he could shoot his load and be ready to go twenty minutes later. In fact, it had been so long since he'd had a blow job, it was a wonder that he hadn't exploded into her mouth as soon as she started. Ilyssia continued to play with the wet hair on his broad chest. Few of her lovers had any chest hair at all, the current rage being to have a smooth body. Nimble fingers played with his nipples, finding them highly sensitive. On impulse, she replaced her fingers with her tongue, bringing another series of moans from Sean. "Why don't we move to the bed," Sean suggested as he began to feel the water splashing them both beginning to cool. "Excellent idea," Ilyssia smiled, giving Sean's cock one last playful tug. They didn't even bother drying off. Although she was half his size, Ilyssia was clearly going to be the aggressor. She pushed Sean onto the bed and climbed on top of him. Straddling his chest, she leaned down and pressed her breasts against his face, guiding her own nipples to Sean's mouth. Sean eagerly accepted the rounded young globes. He could remember when Ilyssia was still a flat-chested teen, sure she would never develop.She had been so excited when they finally appeared, trying to draw everyone's attention to the then small mounds. Well, she certainly had no trouble getting anyone to notice them now. He ran his tongue across her small dark circles, bringing her eraser-shaped nipples to a firm hardness. Her skin was so warm to the touch. Passionately, he began to cover them with kisses before taking one of her nubs into his mouth. His tongue played with the hard little tip, sending little shivers of delight through the smaller woman. "Oh, that feels nice," Ilyssia gushed as Sean moved to her other breast, continuing to caress the first with his hand. "I can see what Cynthia meant by the advantages of experience," she added silently. As Sean continued to feast on her young breasts, Ilyssia stretched her body along the length of his. Lifting her ass up and down, she began to massage his cock with her pussy, making it wetter than ever. She couldn't wait until he was inside her, but reminded herself that there was no need to rush. After all, they had all night. In no time at all, the blond-tressed woman reached the edge of orgasm. It wouldn't take much to push her over the edge. Relishing the fire racing up and down her body, Ilyssia decided to find out what else experience was good for. Lifting herself totally off Sean for a few moments, she moved to the head of the bed. Once again, she straddled the older man. This time, she was higher up, at a point where her wet cunt stood poised just above his face. A face filled with a broad smile, something she rarely noticed on most of her much younger lovers. For the most part, they usually just looked at cunnilingus as something they had to endure in order to get to the "good stuff." Ilyssia had no sooner lowered herself within easy reach when she felt Sean's own nimble tongue going to work. Driving it up deep inside her, she felt it quickly locate her clit and begin to play a melody on it. She could feel her juices surging under his ministrations. A climax wouldn't be long in coming. And what a climax it was. Ilyssia felt her entire body tremble as all the air seemed to suck out of her lungs. The beat of her heart was like a trip hammer as she grabbed the headboard with her outstretched hands and braced herself. "Omigod!!!" was the only word she could manage as one of the best orgasms of her life sent her to a land of dreams. The dream lasted only seconds in the real world, but they were the longest seconds of her young life. All the strength seemed to fade out of her body as she collapsed on top of Sean. He cradled her in his arms, kissing her gently over and over. At the same time, he continued to stroke her breasts with his other hand. "Oh, I could really get to like this," Ilyssia purred as she snuggled up against his hairy chest. "Take a few minutes to catch your breath," Sean said as he kissed her on the forehead. "Then it's my turn." They laid there for about fifteen minutes, just enjoying the comfort of each other's body. Then Sean eased himself out from under her and stood on the side of the bed. Out of the corner of her eye, Ilyssia could see that he was once again hard. Taking hold of each of her hips with his large hands, he guided the much smaller woman into a position where she was facing away from him on all fours. He took hold of his cock and rubbed it back and forth a little, making sure it was as hard as it could be. Then, taking a step forward, he pressed the head of his manhood against her waiting hole. Ilyssia arched her back, burying her face in the softness of the pillows beneath her. Rotating her hips back and forth, she rubbed her pussy against his cockhead, coating it with her juices. A soft push backwards caused her tunnel to spread open as she eased him within her. "Ohhhh," she moaned as she felt him enter her. Rather than simply thrusting himself up inside her as she expected him to do, Ilyssia felt his cockhead gently move in and out, never moving more than a half inch at a time. Her sugar walls closed tight around him as the gentle vibration resounded throughout her body. With each repetition, he moved deeper inside of her. A corresponding increase in the pleasure accompanying the depth of his passage. "Oh yes...deeper...deeper," Ilyssia moaned into the pillow. Faster and faster, Sean moved inside of her, the speed of his thrusts increasing with each movement. He'd moved onto the bed by this time, his hand tightly wrapped around her waist to keep her from crashing into the headboard. The beat of his balls against her asscheeks was the only sound in the room, save that of both their labored breaths. Finally, after endless moments of anticipation, Ilyssia felt Sean's body begin to tense, a warning that he had reached the edge of his self-control. She was amazed he had lasted this long. She pressed her body back against his, adding her own energy to the explosion she knew to be imminent. At the same time, she reached down under her own body to find her inflamed love button. Frantically, she added her own fuel to the conflagration within her. She felt her new lover suddenly stop his forward motion, and knowing that this was it, stopped as well. She wanted to savor the moment. Then his body shuddered, triggering volcanic waves within her as well. Her pussy exploded as she felt the first burst of the older man's cum fill her body. Raw, violent bodyquakes shook her form, radiating outward until they filled the core of her being. Her climax earlier had only been an overture to a symphony. No lover had ever brought her to this level before. Even Johnny had been a rank amateur when now measured against his father-in-law. Now it was Sean's turn to drop exhausted on the bed. Thankfully, he landed alongside Ilyssia rather than on top of her. Her pussy still tingling from the excitement of their lovemaking, Ilyssia shifted her position until her head was now laying alongside Sean's now semi-soft cock. Gently, she took it into her mouth, licking up the sweet mixture of both their nectars. It was a taste she truly loved. "Oh, that was great," Sean said as he laid back on the bed, his eyes still closed. "It has been so very long." It was then that Ilyssia realized that she had been his first woman since he had left his wife. In a way, she felt honored. "I have been fantasizing about this since I was 16 years old," she said as she shifted her body and kissed him once again, the flavor of their lovemaking still on her lips. Sean had no way of knowing she was exaggerating, but she wanted tonight to be as special as it could be for him. She had actually wondered what it would be like to have slept with him when she was 16, but that was only the abstract fantasy of a young girl. The reality was so much better as a grown woman. "To tell the truth," Sean said, "I fantasized about you a few times back then myself." "Really?" Ilyssia asked, knowing he was telling the truth. "Was it worth the wait?" "Definitely," Sean smiled as he kissed her again. They laid there in each other's arms for the longest time, watching the snow continue to fall outside the window. Neither of them made it home for Christmas, and they made love at least twice a day for the next few days. The old Santa had been right. It definitely had been a very Merry Christmas.

Part Two

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11488.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. Tommy became aware that he didn't care about the moist bits perched above him, confirming just how miserably tired he was. 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. Ascending back into awareness, Tommy first noticed that the street light still glimmered in the window and then felt his cock awaken, as it became 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 eyes looked empty. They no longer sparkled with shrewdness or 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 tapped 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/Year98/14896.txt

Dilbert

Blonde Mistress (f/m, femdom)

"Eat me, slave, or I'll light the cigarette." The cigarette was already in her mouth. I looked up at her as she picked up the lighter from the desk with her left hand. I am naked and kneeling in front of her, with my ankles and wrists bound behind my back and tied to the bottom drawer of a file cabinet. My jaw felt sore, and I knew it was just a matter of time before my jaw would be so sore that I could no longer eat her pussy. My arms are sore and getting stiffer, having been tied behind my back for a couple of hours. My knees are sore as well. Mistress lounges in my office chair in front of me with her legs spread, naked as well. I glance through the office window and notice that it's dark out. I look back at my Mistress, about to light the cigarette. She is an attractive woman, about 5' 7" tall, with blonde hair and green eyes. I think she is about 25. She is a little plump, but not fat. Her breasts are a soft 42D, with small nipples. She keeps the area around her pussy trimmed. I leaned forward into Mistress' wet pussy and resumed licking and sucking. I heard her put the lighter on the desk, and I could hear her mewing as I sucked on her clit. My mind started to wander, and I thought about how I got myself in this position.I found a coaster on the end table, and set the glass down near her. "That's better". I returned to my position and waited for her next command. I didn't have to wait long. "Get the feather duster from the hall closet, and start dusting the living room." I walked to the hall, found the closet, and found the feather duster. I returned to the living room, and started dusting. Mistress directed me to dust various objects in the room. As I walked around the room, I could see out the windows, and realized she lived in an apartment. I spent the next couple of hours fetching snacks, drinks, and other things for her, and cleaning the apartment, while she sat on the sofa smoking. I was standing in my position watching her finish a cigarette when I heard her command, "Clean this ashtray." I walked over, picked up the ashtray from the end table, and walked into the kitchen. When I returned with the clean ashtray she smiled and said, "Good. You are learning how to please me. Put your clothes back on." I put the ashtray on the end table, and walked over to where my clothes were folded. I put them on, and she came over to me and put the blindfold on. I felt a tug on the collar, and I followed the tugs. I felt her removing the collar, and then I heard the car door open. "Get in." I slid in, and heard her get in the car and start the engine. We rode for a while, then I heard her say, "Take the blindfold off." I took the blindfold off, and saw we were in the office parking lot. She didn't say another word, and I got out of the car. She sped away while I was closing the car door. I got into my car and went home, amazed at what had just happened. The rest of the week went by, and I found myself thinking often about Betsy and what we had done. I knew that I enjoyed serving her, and wanted to keep serving her. I wanted to see her more than once a week, but I dared not call her. Finally, Wednesday rolled around again, and we met in the lobby for lunch. I opened the door to the building for her, and her car door. When we arrived at the café, she waited while I walked around the car to open the door for her. I held the door open for her as she entered the café. At lunch, we talked about the usual office things, although I wanted to tell her how much I needed to serve her. I was waiting for the check when she handed me a note. I opened the note, and read "Meet me at the south building entrance at 5:30". I nodded yes, and we returned to work. I met Betsy after work, and followed her to her car. I opened the car door for her, and she got the blindfold and handcuffs out, and put them on me. We drove to her apartment just like before, and soon I was standing naked, except for the collar, in my position before her. She was sitting on the sofa, smoking a cigarette, and had on the black leather bra and panties. "Come here", she commanded. I walked over to her. She picked up the handcuffs, and locked both ends around the base of my cock, behind my balls. The chain hung a couple of inches. "From now on, I want you to put the handcuffs on like this when you get undressed. Look over on the bookcase. Do you see the weights? I looked over to the bookcase. It was a half height bookcase, with three cylindric weights on top. I had seen them before, and thought they were a display. Each weight had a snap hook tied to the ball on top of the weights. "Yes Mistress, I see them", I replied. She continued, "The smallest weight is two pounds, the middle weight five, and the largest weight ten. After you lock the handcuffs to your cock, choose one of them and hook it to the handcuff chain. If you choose to wear the ten-pound weight, I'll take off my bra and panties, and you'll have the pleasure of serving my naked body. If you choose the five-pound weight, I'll take my panties off. If you choose the two-pound weight, I'll remain in my leather outfit." As much as I wanted to see Mistress naked, I didn't know if I could handle ten pounds hanging from my cock for two hours. I walked over to the bookcase and chose the five-pound weight, and hooked it to the handcuff chain. I let go of the weight, and the tug wasn't too bad. I walked back to my spot, and put my arms behind my back. Betsy stood up, slipped her panties off, and sat down. I noticed that the hair around her pussy was neatly trimmed. I spent the next couple of hours fetching things for her, and cleaning the apartment, as she sat on the sofa watching. I had to walk slowly to keep the weight hanging between my legs from swinging too much. She smoked as I got her drinks and snacks, and cleaned the ashtray she was using. Every time I got close to her, I just stared at her pussy. Finally she smiled and said, "Good. You have pleased me. I hope you enjoyed looking at my pussy." She tossed me the key to the handcuffs. "Take the handcuffs off and put your clothes back on." I took the weight off the handcuffs, and unlocked them. I put the weight back on the bookcase, along with the handcuffs and key. I put my clothes back on, and she put the blindfold on me. She drove me back to the office parking lot, like before. I got into my car and went home, horny as hell. Next Wednesday couldn't come soon enough for me. Betsy and I had lunch, and I met her after work. We went to her apartment, and soon I was standing naked before her with the ten-pound weight hanging from my cock. She sat there and took a couple of drags on her cigarette before she put the cigarette down, stood up, removed her bra and panties, and sat down. I stared at her breasts. I knew that they were large, but now I could see that they were well rounded, but her nipples were rather small. I spent the next couple of hours fetching things for her, and cleaning the apartment, as she sat on the sofa watching. I had to walk slowly with the ten-pound weight hanging between my legs. Every time I got near her, I just stared at her breasts. Finally she smiled and said, "Good. You have pleased me. I hope you enjoyed staring at my breasts." I got dressed, and she brought me back to the office parking lot. The next week I was back at Betsy's apartment, naked, with the ten-pound weight hanging from my cock, waiting to serve her. She sat on the sofa naked, smoking a cigarette. "Get me a beer." I went into the kitchen, and brought her a beer. I stared at her breasts as I put the beer down by her. "Would you like to eat my pussy?" "Yes Mistress, I would", I eagerly replied. "You must earn the privilege of eating my pussy. Stand by the dining room table." I walked over to the dining room table. Mistress got up, picked up another pair of handcuffs, and walked over to me. She handcuffed my wrists behind my back, and reached under the table. She picked up a rope, tied the rope to the handcuffs attached to my cock, and then to the handcuffs attached to my wrists. "Kneel down", she commanded, and I got on my knees and watched her. She stepped in front of me, her pussy inches from my face. "Smell it", she commanded. I moved forward a little, and savored her scent for about a minute. She turned and walked away from me. She stopped, and bent over to put her panties on the floor about three feet in front of the sofa. She then walked to the sofa and sat down. She lit a cigarette, took a drag, then commanded, "Crawl over and eat my pussy." I started crawling towards her, then felt a tug on my cock when I was about six feet away from the sofa. I turned my head, and saw that my cock was tied to a 50-pound barbell weight laying flat on the carpet under the dining room table. I leaned forward and pulled on the weight until I thought my cock was going to be yanked off. I felt the weight move about a quarter inch. I stopped struggling and caught my breath, and I saw Mistress lounging on the sofa stroking her pussy. She was watching me. "I'm horny, come eat me", she cooed. It took me about fifteen minutes to drag that weight a foot. My cock was sore, both from trying to drag the large weight, and from the ten-pound weight swinging between my legs. I was sweating, and wondering if I could drag that weight any further. I slumped to the floor, and my face fell into Mistress' panties. I could smell her scent and the scent of leather. I lay in that position for a couple of minutes. I probably would have stayed there sniffing her panties, but I heard Mistress' voice command me. "Get up." I struggled to get back on my knees, and I saw Mistress lounge on the sofa fingering her pussy. I struggled for about another thirty minutes until I was close enough to the sofa to bury my face in Mistress' wet pussy. I licked and nibbled on her clit for about fifteen minutes, and I think she had two orgasms before she commanded me to stop. She untied the rope, and unlocked the handcuffs from behind my back. "Put the weight back under the table." I slid the weight under the dining room table, and then returned to my position. I spent the last thirty minutes fetching things for her and staring at her. Finally she smiled and said, "Good. You have pleased me. I hope you enjoyed eating my pussy." I got dressed, and she brought me back to my car. The next week I was back at Mistress' apartment, naked, with the ten-pound weight hanging from my cock, waiting to serve her. She sat on the sofa naked, smoking a cigarette. "Get me a beer." I went into the kitchen, and brought her a beer. I stared at her breasts as I put the beer down by her. She took a few sips, then asked me "Would you like to fondle my breasts?" "Yes Mistress, I would", I replied. "You must earn the privilege of fondling my breasts." I wondered what she'd have me do, remembering what I had to do to eat her pussy. She stood up, and brought me near the kitchen doorway. She hooked my collar to an eye that was screwed into the wall. I was standing with my back against the wall, unable to bend or move.She walked into the bedroom, and soon returned. She was carrying a pair of five-pound weights. She handed them to me, and commanded, "Clip these weights to your nipples." I saw the binder clips on the ends of the weights. I winced as I clipped my left nipple. When I let go of the five-pound weight, to have both hands free, I almost screamed from the pain. I hurriedly clipped my other nipple. As soon as I got the clips on both nipples, I grabbed the weights, one in each hand, and held them. Mistress was standing in front of me. "Do you still want to fondle my breasts?" "Yes Mistress", I answered quietly. "Then let go of the weights." I let go of the weights. The pain in my nipples was sharp at first, then dulled a little. I could only stand the pain for about thirty seconds before I grabbed the weights again. The pain from the clamps was nothing compared to the pain from the weights pulling on my nipples. After about a minute, I let go of the weights again. This time I was able to stand the pain longer, and after about a minute, Mistress stepped forward, and whispered, "You may fondle my breasts now." I reached up and felt the softness of her breasts. Her nipples stayed small even as I played with them. I squeezed her breasts for about a minute, until the pain in my nipples was too great. As soon as I grabbed the weights, Mistress' stepped back. I rested my nipples for a couple of minutes, and let go of the weights again. After about a minute, Mistress stepped forward. I fondled her breasts for a couple of minutes until the pain in my nipples was too great, and I grabbed the weights. I rested my nipples for a few minutes, and let go of the weights. After a minute Mistress stepped forward and I fondled Mistress' breasts once more for about a minute. Again, the pain in my nipples forced me to stop fondling and grab the weights. My nipples were hurting too much for me to let go of the weights again. We both stood there for about five minutes until she commanded me, "Unclip the weights." I unclipped the weights from my nipples, wincing as the blood returned to each one. She put the weights in her bedroom, and returned to unhook me from the wall. I spent the last hour and a half fetching things for her and cleaning her apartment. Finally she smiled and said, "Good. You have pleased me. I hope you enjoyed fondling my breasts." I got dressed, and she brought me back to the office parking lot. The next week, I met Mistress at the south entrance. I was ready to follow her to her car, when I heard her ask, "Is there anyone in your office?" "No, I locked up", I replied. "Good. Let's go." I followed her up to the door to the office. She waited as I unlocked the door. We walked in, and I locked the door. She followed me to my office. I opened the door and she walked in. I closed and locked the door. "Strip", she commanded. I was a little nervous because the blinds were open, and it was still light out. I removed my clothes and put them in the corner by the door. She took out a rope, and tied my hands behind my back. "Kneel", I heard. I knelt down, and she tied my ankles together. My wrists and ankles were tied together, and then tied to a file cabinet handle. I knelt there and watched as Mistress removed her office clothes. She was wearing a white silk bra and panties. When she was naked, she sat in my office chair, and rolled over to where I was kneeling. She got cigarettes and a lighter from her purse, and started to light a cigarette. "Please Mistress, don't smoke in my office", I pleaded. A wicked grin came over her face, and she took the cigarette out of her mouth. "Very well. I won't smoke for now. Eat my pussy." She spread her legs wide, and I moved to bury my face in her pussy. I felt a tug, and the rope kept me from reaching her pussy. I stuck out my tongue and started to lick her clit. She let me lick her with the tip of my tongue for a couple of minutes before she moved the chair closer to me. I dived in and started sucking on her clit, happy to be serving my Mistress. I licked and sucked for about twenty minutes, until my jaw started to get sore. I stopped for a minute to rest my jaw. I looked up at her as she picked up the cigarette from the desk and put it in her mouth. "Eat me, slave, or I'll light the cigarette." I watched her pick up the lighter from the desk with her left hand. I leaned forward into Mistress' wet pussy and resumed licking and sucking. I heard her put the lighter on the desk, and I could hear her mewing as I sucked on her clit.

f/m, femdom

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/17569.txt

Andrew Roller

Sum 11 Summer of Sin part 11 of 20 (NND)

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

Chapter Eleven

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/10024.txt

Jordan Shelbourne

Tomboy

"I'm a little old to be banished to summer camp," I said to Spike. Spike was my best friend, had been since I was eight. "I mean, I'm fifteen." I was sitting on a branch in an old apple tree, the last one in the orchard. I had my back propped against the tree trunk. She was lying on the branch below me. Spike said, "Wish my folks would send me to camp, Kip." Her real name was Danica, but I never called her that, just like she never called me Clifford. "Yeah," I said. "Right." "No, really. First of all, you're gonna be doing canoeing and stuff. That's like free training." "Training?" "You know, for the Olympics." Spike was a natural athlete, not like me. I was a two-left-feet guy, and no team would have me. Spike occasionally talked about trying pro sports, but usually she came back to her other dream, being a mechanic on Formula Ones. "They wouldn't send me, though. They'd be afraid it would just make me worse." "You go instead of me." I banged my head gently against the tree trunk, making the leaves rustle. "Maybe we could just send you on the bus and you could say you were me." "They'd notice in the shower. And when I got my period." I stared at her. "I didn't know you got your period already." To be honest, I never thought of Spike as a *girl.* She imitated me: "I'm fifteen, for Christ's sake," and she reached up to whack my foot. "I wish you were coming. I'm not gonna know *anybody* there. I wish I knew why my parents are doing this." She said, "It's obvious, Kip. They think you're weird. You spend most of your time reading, and the rest of your time you spend with a psychotic tomboy." She said it like she was proud of being one. Spike was all limbs and joints, about as feminine as a plank. She kept her black hair short and she had an oval face with a long jaw. She didn't look particularly like she was a guy or a girl. "They want to make you normal." "Great," I moaned. "Look, your folks aren't exactly thrilled about me." "They don't mind you." She snorted. "They think I'm an unhealthy influence. Your dad's not a reading kind of guy, you know? He's probably worried I'm a dyke and I'll turn you into a fag." She plucked at her T-shirt. Today's was Motorhead. "What's a dyke?" She dropped off the tree, agile as an ape. "It's what a Dutch boy sticks his finger in." She picked a green apple off the ground and shied it at me. It stung me on the shoulder. "A lesbian! Don't be a knob." "I'm not a knob," I said. "You're a knob." She hit me three more times before I got down from the tree, but I managed to drag her down to the ground and we wrestled a while before we both started laughing.She undid the button on her cutoffs and eased them over her ass, dropping them to the floor. She stepped out of them and kicked them under the bed. Her underpants were peach, with flowers on them. They would have looked very out of place on the old Spike; I had no idea if they suited the new Spike. We were making up new rules. "Now you," she said. I undid the button on my jeans, and my jeans didn't fall until I gave them a shove. My wallet made a thump as it landed on the floor. I went to step out of them, like Spike had, but my feet got tangled, and I had to grab her shoulder for support. She grabbed me back. Her shoulder was smooth and hot, and the strap of her bra felt a mile wide under my palm. I pulled up my foot and turned the leg of my jeans inside out. "What a knob," she said, but there wasn't any annoyance in it. She knelt down in front of me, her face only inches from where my cock was making a circus tent of my white cotton jockey shorts, and pulled my jeans from my feet. I had goosebumps all along my legs. She ran her hands up the outsides of my thighs and rested them on my hips. "Go ahead," I told her. "Take off my..." I couldn't quite say "underpants" or "shorts." I wished I was wearing something sexy. I wished I were a hunk. I thought maybe she'd hesitate, but not Spike. "Okay." She grabbed the waistband and pulled straight out and then delicately uncovered my hard-on. She'd caught her lower lip between her teeth, and I heard her suck in her breath. Then I blushed because I'd thought the word "suck." Finally, she said, "Cool." That was so old-Spike that I relaxed, and my cock bounced a bit. She grabbed it, and I started like when you're really into a book and someone interrupts you. She looked up at me, sort of bewildered. "Sorry. Did that hurt?" "No, I was just..." She rubbed her hand along the length, then started to pull it in different directions, testing how stiff it was. Her hand slipped to the end of my cock, making the head hard and purple and smooth, then slid back to the base, touching my sparse blond pubic hair. It felt great. "It feels neat," she said. "It feels hot." "Your hand's cold." "Oh," she said, and then, "I'll warm it up," and she breathed on my cock, short hot breaths, like she was panting. Like she'd run a mile or...or something. My balls tightened. I could feel myself getting ready to come. I tried not to clench my butt. "I like how you smell," she told me. "Uh, Spike?" I really didn't want to come in front of her. "Your balls are really neat. Kinda--compact." She traced her fingers along my balls. "How do you sit down without hurting yourself?" Her other hand slid over the head of my cock, and she stroked the underside with her thumb, smearing something wet. "Spike, I'm gonna--" She started moving her hand faster, and I groaned as I came. A shot of jism hit her hair beside her ear, and she watched, fascinated, as I shot a second and third which hit her shoulder and breast. She kept pumping my cock and squeezed out a bit more, which ran over her fingers. "*Very* neat." She opened her hand and looked at my come smeared across her fingers. "Well, messy." She chuckled and sucked one knuckle clean. "It tastes okay." "Spike!" "Well, it's not gross. I read some women think it's gross." My cock was softening. She took it between her thumb and forefinger and leaned forward with her mouth open; just as I could feel her breath on it again, she looked up at me and said, "You don't mind, do you, Kip?" She looked very serious, and I suddenly wondered if I did mind. I know that sounds stupid. I mean, I was looking forward to the first time I ever really fucked a girl and all that, but I never thought it would be *Spike.* Spike was something permanent in my life, and I thought our friendship would never change. But it had. Spike had just become something, someone, totally different, and I didn't know what and I didn't know what was allowed between us. It had become different the moment she grew tits, though I hadn't known about it. I killed the chance for it to go back to what it was when I came through the window. All we could do was something new, and hope we liked it as much. I touched her mouth with my fingertip. Her lips were soft and warm and wet. I wondered what it was going to be like kissing her. "Don't be a knob," I told her, and I kissed her. It wasn't gross.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/8579.txt

Lucinda Gavin

Alone in Berlin (Revised)

"Hello?" "Chris? It's Meg, Meg Kruger," I felt my heart beat quickly as I waited for the voice on the other end of the line to respond. "Meg? Hi... Where are you?" I let out a rush of air, I could hear myself talking too quickly. "I'm in Berlin. I fly out tomorrow, early, so I took the train in today. Then it's Berlin to Frankfurt, Frankfurt to Dulles, and Dulles to home. You know the joke that if you're going to Hell, you have to stop in Chicago? I suppose Europeans say you have to stop in Frankfurt. I'm at the Hotel Ibis," I hear myself laugh, but it sounds forced. "Hotel Ee-bis here, not eye-bis." "Oh... I hope it's not in the combat zone..." "No, but it's a little funky here, lots of immigrants and young intellectuals," The words poured out, was I making sense? "It's a little rough around the edges, one building will be beautifully restored and the others dingy and covered in graffiti. On street level you see tacky, crowded store fronts; it reminds me of parts of Chicago that way. On the other hand, like Chicago, you can tell real people live here. If you look higher, above the ground floor, there are all these flower boxes on the ledges and... if you look closely, there are lace curtains in all the windows. It's a neat place, really." Stop. Take a breath, I told myself, "But it's weird, walking down a street knowing you're completely alone in a foreign city..." "That explains the phone call, but I know what you mean..." Yes, he understood... My fear that he'd think I was a freak for calling him may have been unfounded. "Yeah... I hope your collaboration is going well..." "Yeah, but don't let our hosts' gracious demeanor you saw fool you, they had me chained to my desk after you all left. No more sightseeing for me," Chris laughed softly. I laughed, a little too loud. "When are you supposed to go home?" "I'll be leaving this Saturday, I'll take the train to Berlin Friday night... I'm surprised you didn't call your boyfriend..." So was I. "Time change... He'll be at work, our moods won't match... It's nice to talk to someone who is in the same time zone, you know?" In more ways than one... "It's nice just to hear English, at least you know some German..." He was making conversation, he wasn't blowing me off, that was a good sign. Maybe he was actually glad I called. "Yeah, but I'm afraid to use it. If you ask a question in German, they answer in German, that's the problem!" Chris laughed softly. God, what was I doing? This was crossing so many boundaries... "You don't mind, do you? Me calling like this?" "No, I don't mind... Don't have anyone at home to call... Except maybe my dog..." Yes, Chris had made it clear all week just how single he was. "You've got that seminar tomorrow, don't you? You need to prepare for that?" Give him an out, remind him that business comes before pleasure. "I got that ready yesterday, once I didn't have you and Gordy and Sacha around to distract me..." I could hear the smile in his voice. If voices could be described by colors or textures, my boyfriend Tommy's resonant baritone would be a highly polished bronze, but Chris had a voice that was smoky blue, with a gentle, reedy quality, like a softly played saxophone. It was different than I was used to, and I was surprised that I liked it. I liked it a lot. Over the phone, I couldn't see that blinding grin, I could only hear Chris' relaxed, friendly voice. "Oh, yeah, we really had to twist your arm..." "You're a corrupting influence, Meg, admit it." Yes! He was teasing me, maybe even flirting... "Yes, I forced you to visit that castle..." "Yes! The castle, and the tavern, and the disco..." "Well, isn't that what conferences are about?" "Apparently the sharing of scientific discoveries within the international community is not a priority with you..." "During the day, of course it's a priority! After dinner... well... you saw me talking to Korlov at least..." "He was trying to pick you up! And then you go and have a date with Minowitz..." "It was not a date! The man's in his sixties at least!" "Consider yourself lucky, you were able to discuss your work with him. Minovitz wouldn't give me the time of day until I was made permanent staff. Tell me this, did he pay for your drinks?" "Yes..." "Then it was a date." "Argghh!! It would have been rude to refuse. Can I help it if some men like to be gallant around a woman? Would you rather I pretend that I'm 'one of the guys?'" "It doesn't matter what I prefer, you should do what you feel is right." "Exactly, and I'm going to behave like a woman, whatever that means. If, as a result, some men won't take my work seriously, oh well. I doubt they would take me seriously if I tried to behave like a man." "Good point, I hadn't thought of that. Although I don't know exactly how we got there." "Yeah, well, it's a little hard for me to avoid thinking about it." I realized Chris might get defensive at this, most reasonable men would, "Actually, now that I've worked through it, being true to myself in a male dominated field and all that, I've been feeling a lot more confident, with respect to work." "I see..." "I'm rambling aren't I?" "Well, Meg, I wasn't going to say anything..." "Yeah, well, now you know... I tend to go off on tangents... It makes me very creative but..." "But it's something I should keep in mind if I want to hire you." "Well, Chris, I wasn't going to say anything..." The voice on the phone laughed again. God, what was I doing? Did he think I'm trying to sleep my way into a job? The truth was, Chris was incredibly sexy, but I needed to get to know him better. He was still so much of a mystery. Chris was handsome, charming, sophisticated... and reserved. He didn't talk much about himself. The fact that he was still single made me wonder if he was gay. On the other hand, he could have just been hurt very badly. Sacha, short for Alexandra, and I speculated about that. Didn't he say his parents were divorced? I definitely got the heterosexual vibe from him. He had a way of approaching me and flirting, then backing off. I never pressed it, I let him take the initiative, until tonight. Why was I doing this? See, I also wanted to work for him. Chris was very well respected in the field, I couldn't go wrong having him as a boss. The smart thing would be to stay cool, keep it professional. If I did end up working for him, or even at the same lab, the romance could happen eventually, if it was meant to be. Otherwise, I could blow my reputation entirely. "So what does your boyfriend do?" Shit! Tommy! I was mentally running off with a man I've known for a week. What was happening to me? It was perceptive of him to turn the conversation in that direction. "He's a network manager, for the electrical engineering department at the university." "Really? A very portable job, I see..." "You noticed, huh?" "I'm well acquainted with the two-body problem, let's just leave it at that." The two-body problem. Academics live the life of gypsies in the early part of their career, asking spouses to pull up stakes after grad school, the first post-doc, and maybe the second post-doc, before even thinking of settling in as a staff scientist or as a member of a faculty somewhere. Tommy had the type of training that could get him a job anywhere, if the need arose. Not necessarily a reason to start a relationship, but definitely a factor in keeping one alive. "You and ... Tommy are engaged, right?" "No..." I knew he was going to ask if Tommy was willing to follow me once my post-doc was up next May. "But you're living together..." "Yes..." "Have you two discussed the future?" "Not really..." "Meg..." His voice had that gentle scolding quality, the one you hear when a male friend is about to give you the 'Men are pigs' speech. "Do you want to marry him?" he asked. I hesitated. If he had asked me the week before I would have said... Christ, I didn't know what I would have said. That was the question wasn't it? "I don't know." "That pretty much answers it, if you don't know." "No! It's not like that. I just haven't thought about the future, because... because..." "Because?" "I wasn't ready to ask him to follow me, and I didn't know how he felt about getting married again after his divorce... and..." "There's more?" "I don't know if he's ... the one." Chris was quiet on the other end of the line. What could he have said, really? "I guess Tommy and I need to talk some." "Can I ask one question?""If you weren't sure this guy was 'the one,' why did you move in with him?" "For the obvious reasons, I guess, and I feel comfortable with Tommy. He's like the guys I used to hang out with in high school. Maybe I thought this was as close to 'the one' as I was going to get. I'm still not sure that he isn't. This trip is messing with my head." Why was I talking like this? What was I trying to accomplish? "If you have doubts when you two are apart, that sounds like something you should pay attention to." "It's not doubts, I don't think. It's just that when you're in a relationship, you slip into roles. One's the sensitive one and the other is the rational one, for example. So when I am away from him, I'm forced to be a whole person. I remember what it's like to be independent... It was a nice feeling." "You can't be a whole person with your boyfriend?" "I guess I haven't been... I suppose that's asking a lot, huh? To be a whole person and still give yourself to a relationship. This afternoon, I took a walk in this old church yard... well not that old, the cemetery seemed to have its heyday in the 20's and 30's with all these Art Deco monuments and the newest markers are in the 60's. Most of them say, "Hier ruht mein lieber Mann." Here rests my beloved husband. It was quite moving. I guess I want that, too... I want to find the real thing, whatever that is." Chris laughed, "I'm sorry, but I just realized that I'm getting used to your meanderings. You did get to the point eventually." I laughed, too, "Why, thank you. I have my moments." Chris didn't respond, but I heard him move and stretch on the other end of the line. "I'm sorry, if you have things to do, I can let you go. I've monopolized the conversation with my favorite subject.. me." I was relieved to hear him chuckle a bit, taking my joke as it was intended, "Well, I do need to visit the bathroom." "Then I'll let you go." "Wait, give me your number and I'll call you back in a sec." "Are you sure?" "What else do I have to do except watch TV with German dubbing, which I don't understand, or turn to the porn channel and try to decipher the action with a blackout over the middle of the screen... It doesn't cover everything..." Once again I could hear the grin in his voice. He was ready to change the subject... but to what? "You could just pay, you know..." "I've never had to pay for it before..." he said mischievously. "Oh, really?" I could have feigned outrage, but instead I encouraged him, curious how he would react. Chris paused, "Um, I'll call you back in a sec. Give me your number." I gave him my number and I put down the receiver. I decided to get into my robe and I brought a pillow over to the desk by the window. The sun had gone down and I watched the city lights. I turned off the lamp in my room so no one could see in while I reclined against the window. I sat for a moment, aware of the feel of the terry cloth against my skin. I wondered if it would be a good idea to slip my hand inside my robe. Instead, I turned on the television while I waited. It was 'X-files' and through the dubbing, Scully just didn't seem right without the inflections Gillian Anderson put in her voice. All of her vulnerability was in her voice. The phone rang. "Hello?" "Meg? It's Chris... Now where were we?" "Something about paying for it, I think." I slid down on the ledge so that I was lying on my back. The lower half of my robe fell open and I felt goosebumps rise on my thigh where it touched the cold window. "Yeah... Well, I meant before that." "Well, we pretty much established that I don't know what to do about Tommy, thank you very much." "What did I do?" "Fine, go ahead and feign innocence. See if I care... No really, I'm just going to have to think about that, I guess I've been putting it off. It's never been easy for me to decide what I want." My hand rested on my covered belly. As long as I didn't tell him, and I could still enjoy his smoky voice, what was the harm if I... "Maybe we should talk about something else." "Like what?" "Something lighter I suppose, this has been a rather intense conversation. Any suggestions?" I slipped my hand under the robe, exposing one breast to the conflicting sensations of the chill air and my warm hand. "We could talk about the weather... or talk shop..." "Okay, we'll talk about the weather. What does it look like in Berlin?" I looked out the window, starting to roll the nipple between my fingers. I wanted to gasp a little, but with effort, I kept my breathing steady. "It's dark, with scattered bits of light." "You can see the stars?" "No, just the city lights." I pinched the tightening flesh and the muscles between my legs twinged, I began squeezing them in rhythm with my fingers. I had to be careful to continue breathing naturally. "It looks much better at night. Right outside my window I can see this god-awful tower with this globe thing impaled on it. I think it's some sort of landmark, but there's all these radio and microwave things on it that it spoils whatever charm it may have had." "Thingy, dazzling me with those highly technical terms, huh?" "Bite me, Chris." It was out before I could take it back. My voice was tight, and I heard myself say this more as an urgent plea than as a curse. I could only hope he would ignore it. He didn't answer right away. "You'd like that, wouldn't you." I abruptly ceased my surreptitious explorations. "Maybe... among other things... but... I won't go into that..." "Oh please, 'go into that', I'm curious." I thrilled at the impish curl I heard. My clitoris reawoke in gleeful anticipation. I ran my thumb over the warm, smooth flesh I cradled in my hand. For the moment, Chris was unaware of my actions. "I don't think we should go there." "Go where?" "You know..." "No, I don't know, why don't you tell me?" Shit, the game men must learn from the cradle. Making it seem like it was all the woman's idea. Well, might as well get it over with. "Talking about sex, you do remember sex, don't you?" "I don't think I do remember, could you describe it to me?" I grasped the soft breast and kneaded it, rolling and teasing the nipple again. I imagined that grin of his, if only he knew. "Well, yes I could. I could describe it quite well, in fact." I stopped. I heard a soft, clear, sensible tone, "But I don't think that would be a good idea..." "I suppose you're right, you have a boyfriend, after all..." I heard a curl from burning incense belie the words and beckon me into some hazy, heady chamber. "And we're colleagues..." "And we're colleagues..." he replied, suddenly as hard and grey as pewter. "Maybe that's a good thing, though. Can I ask you something?" "I guess..." There was a pause. The facts diffused in the moonless night. "Do you feel like a whole person right now?" Yes, I did. That was it, wasn't it? The reason I pursued this man against all my better judgment. I felt that I could explore all of myself, without the fear of excluding him or leaving him behind. "Yes... What about you?" "To tell you the truth, I don't know," Chris offered cautiously. "I haven't thought about it as much as you have. Maybe, you're not the only one who's been avoiding the future." "So if something happened tonight, nothing would be resolved." I felt my body withdraw, or perhaps merely hesitate. "We wouldn't be alone." I paused a moment. Why had I called in the first place? Because I was alone. Put this in perspective, Meg. Life is short, I thought. "Okay." "Okay? Meg, you mean that?" "Yes." "Well, then," suddenly Chris was silent. We were starting from scratch. Now what? "Cat got your tongue?" Chris let out a burst of nervous laughter, "Heh-heh, she said tongue." I let my voice drop a little, adding some huskiness to it, "Yes, I did." "Oh wow, I like your voice like that... it sounds like..." "The voice of your car? 'The door is ajar,'" I said, with a deep, even voice. Chris chuckled in recognition, "Yes... You've done this before, haven't you?" "Mmm hmm," I hummed in wordless affirmation, "Are you comfortable?" "Uh... for the most part, I'm on my bed, and you?" "No, I'm sitting by the window. The lights are off so no one can see in." "Aw, not an exhibitionist?" "Oh, I can be, but that would take the focus away from you." Chris laughed again, but it seemed more relaxed, "How thoughtful of you." "I do my best." "Hmmm... really? What are you wearing?" "My bathrobe, do you want me to take it off?" "Not yet. Are you wearing anything underneath?" "No." "Are you touching yourself?" "I have one hand under the robe, cradling my breast." "Just cradling it?" "Well, I could do more if you'd like.." "Yes, I would like." "I'm taking the nipple between my fingers and rolling it, pinching it a little. It's a bit cold in here, so they both feel nice and tight. Mmmm... I'm getting a bit of reaction down below." "Down below? You think you could be more specific?" "Sorry... I usually don't have a problem saying those words, it's just that... Well, you're different." "It's okay, you have my permission to say 'pussy.'" "Umm... I feel my pussy beginning to twinge again..." "Again?" "Yeah.. well... I was doing this before... right when you called me back..." Chris let out a short grunt, "Oh man, so you're telling me that all this time... hold on a sec, I'm going to have to get rid of the jeans." I heard the rustle of fabric. "Okay, I'm back. Wow, you were touching yourself while we talking, huh? Well, that little piece of information got quite a reaction... Please, tell me more." "I'm glad you're ... um ... responding. I'm rubbing my thumb in circles around the areola, now. I'm becoming more aroused, especially since I know that I've had an effect on you. I'm going to slip my hand between my legs. First, I slide it down my belly, warming the cool skin.I've gotten to my... uh... pussy and I separate the folds with my fingers. I've become very wet, my fingers are covered in the warm, slippery fluid... How are you doing? "I am very well, thank you," he replied from an insubstantial haze. I listened for indications of his arousal, the shortness of breath, urgency in his voice. "What are you doing?" "I've got my hand around my cock, and I'm stroking it slowly. Listening to you please yourself." "Okay, I return to my pussy and begin pressing on my clitoris in small circles. It's slick from the wetness and that makes the tingling more intense. I can feel the tension building..." "Meg, I've got this picture of you lying on your back with your robe half open and the city lights behind you. I can just imagine you arching your back... I'd walk over and watch you get more and more aroused..." I used his image, seeing Chris stand over me. I continued rubbing myself, frequently pressing two fingers along the valley between my inner lips and into my depths. All the while, describing it to the other voice. I opened my robe and let the cool air nip at my skin, opening myself to the sensual experiences available to me. My flesh and my voice both felt tight and swollen and I needed more... "Chris, I need you to talk to me, please..." He told me how he wanted to taste me and cover me with his own body. He wanted me to feel him in order to bring me closer to the edge, but I needed only to hear him speak of his desires. His voice had thickened into grey-blue storm clouds, and in my mind I stood facing the wind, awaiting the downpour. Chris' once placid timber now possessed me, gusts of arousal buffeting and twirling around. The words were secondary to the thundering passion. "I have you up against the wall, and I lift up one thigh around me," he huffed. "I press my cock against your entrance and drive myself in. Sorry, Meg, but I'm just going to take you now, thumping you hard against the wall. "I grab your ass and press my hips against yours. I feel you cock rub inside of me as I clamp down on it. Uh... Please, keep talking... I'm almost there..." I looked outside at the lights, imagining that some trick of lighting displayed my legs and my robe spread open for all to see. I began squeezing my pelvis, pushing down with all my strength. My own moans were like the wind over an old house, keening and shuddering under the assault. I pressed my feet into the wall as I squeezed and sweat. My hand rubbed urgently between my legs as lightning struck, heat and electricity searing my flesh. I trembled and slid to the floor, listening to Chris' own distant tempest. "I'm done baby..." I panted, "Thank you... What can I do for you now?" There was only a heavy stillness, evoking images of dripping trees and a lightening sky... "I kind of figured that, that you were done. You don't need to do anything, that last part put me over, when I heard you. Thank you..." The wind had died down and the storm had run its course. I looked outside to see the moon appear from behind the clouds. "I wish I could hold you, Meg. I wish I could have seen you." Chris' said in periwinkle tones. His tenderness curled up next to me as I slipped into bed. "Yes, I know, but it was lovely hearing your voice..." "I'm about to fall asleep, Meg. We should talk when we get the chance." "Yeah, go to sleep. We can talk later." "Night, Meg." "Good night, Chris." I kept the curtains open and watched the few stars that could be seen over the city lights. The clouds had passed and it was a clear night. I didn't know if I would stay with Tommy or pursue something with Chris, but I knew I didn't feel alone anymore. I felt whole.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/16856.txt

Spoonbender

The Favour

"Hey Tommy, wait up, man!" I shouted as I hurried to catch my friend. He turned and waited for me to draw alongside. "Phew, man. I haven't run like that since that cross-country run at school." "Or the night we turned over that off-license," he smirked. I laughed. "Yeah, right. That was a hell of a laugh. Hey, man, how's it going? I ain't seen you for ages. What've you been doing?" "I'm living in Docklands," he proclaimed airily. I whistled. "Wow, you have come up in the world. You win the lottery or something?" "Naw, better. I gotta new bird. A high-flying city type, loadsa dosh and a flat by the waterfront." I looked him up and down. He seemed just like the old Tommy I knew and loved, scruffy, slouching, unemployable. "You bin stretching your dick or what?" "Why?" "Well, what the hell does a bird like that see in you?" He shrugged. "I dunno. I was in one of those city wine bars - " he must have noticed my sneer, because he continued quickly - "I was looking for some drunken yuppie to roll, and she just came on to me." "What d'ya mean?" "Come on, Ali, you ain't that stupid. She came up to me and asked me if I wanted a drink. I told her that I didn't want any of the pisswater that they sold there, and she laughed. We ended up drinking pints in a pub on the Mile End Road. She took me home that night, and we screwed each other's brains out..." Which wouldn't need much effort where Tommy was concerned. He wasn't the brightest of God's little creatures. "...and I've bin living with her ever since," he concluded, triumphantly. "She must be a right dog," I ventured. "Watch it, mate, that's my bird you're talkin' about. Anyway, she's a right little cracker, and she bangs like a shithouse door." "You lucky bastard!" It was the expected reply, even though Tommy's idea of a right little cracker and the rest of the male population's differed by a considerable margin. "Look, I gotta photo!" He pulled out a crumpled Polaroid which showed a dark-haired piece with barely discernible features, standing next to a hulking Tommy. I had to admit that her figure looked okay, even if her boat was indistinct and blurry. "Nice!" was all I said. There seemed to be a huge internal conflict going on inside him, judging by the look of anguish on his face. I'd seen that look before - he was either thinking or was about to burst out in anger and break a few adjacent heads. Judiciously, I stepped back. "You're my mate, ain'tcha?" Evidently, he was thinking, my head was safe. I nodded. "You wanna do me a favour?" I shrugged. "Yeah, why not. What d'ya want?" "You wanna screw my bird?" "No, man! She's your bird. I don't wanna screw her, what you take me for?" I'd seen him loosen a guy's teeth once, just because he'd asked one of his ex-girlfriends to move out of the way. I wasn't falling for that one. "Even if I asked yer to?" "Uh?" "If I asked you to screw her, would ya do it?" "I 'spose, but only if you were sure." He smiled. "You're a real mate, you are." Then he hugged me. It was like being crushed by a bale of rancid denim. "What yer thinkin'?" I asked after he put me down again. "Look," he said with his arm draped over my shoulder. "My bird, she's got these, sorta, urges, man. Know what I mean?" I shook my head. I hadn't a clue what he was talking about. "Aw, c'mon, Ali, you know. She likes fuckin'." "Lucky guy." "Yeah." He seemed distracted. "She's got these, what the fuck they called, oh yeah, fantasies, man. Weird ones." "What? Like fuckin' while swingin' on the wardrobe door, that sorta thing?" I asked. This was suddenly getting interesting. "Yeah, that as well. But her real thing is to be fucked by a bunch of guys." "So you want me to get a few of the guys together and come round and give you a hand?" For a second, his forehead creased in annoyance, then it cleared, and he shook his head. "Nah! Thanks for the offer, mate, but I got that bit covered." "So what d'ya want then?" "I want you to grab her and fuck her outside. Well, I don't, but she does. She says it turns her on." He looked puzzled. I didn't come close to understanding women, so poor old Tommy had no chance. "Look, let's get this straight. You want me to just grab her and fuck her. Just like that? But she don't even know me." "Yeah, I know. Stupid cow, eh?" "That's rape, that is. I don't wanna rape no-one. I get enough birds of my own without having to rape no-one." He shook his head, ponderously. The conversation was obviously taxing his thought processes. "Na! It ain't rape, she wants it." "How do I know that?" "You callin' me a liar?" He threatened. "No. Look, what if she was just winding you up or something?" "D'you think so?" "It could be. You know birds, they're always changin' their minds." "Yeah, you're right. Tell you what, I'll ask her tonight. You gonna be in the King's Head tomorrow lunchtime?" I nodded. It was part of my routine, and he knew it. Maybe he was losing touch with his roots. "Right, I'll see you there then." With that, he shambled off. ************************************************************************* "She told me to give yer this." He handed me an envelope. Inside was a single piece of expensive writing paper. I nearly fell off my stool when I read: I, Penelope Hope-Mathers, hereby certify that I have consented to being abducted and forced to serve a group of men, headed by the bearer of this letter, in any sexual manner that they see fit. Subject to the following rules: 1) That my outer clothing does not get damaged such that it is unwearable after the event. 2) That I am returned, after the event, to the place from which I was abducted. 3) That I am not physically harmed or damaged, except for the normal wear and tear inherent in multiple, enforced, sexual encounters. In any event, there will be no marks that may be visible when I am wearing my normal clothing. 4) The time and place will be at the discretion of the bearer with the following caveat: that if the event takes place on a weeknight, then I may be returned in time for me to clean myself up ready for work the next day. 5) I may be physically restrained in any manner the bearer sees fit, including, but not limited to, bonds and gags. However, note that rule 3 applies in this case. 6) There is no maximum limit to the number of sexual encounters that I must endure during the event, save that rule 4 must apply. 7) Photography and/or videography of the event are prohibited, as are the use of any drugs. Signed: P. Hope-Mathers Witnessed: T. Forsyth "Have you read this?" I said as I punched the paper with my finger. He shrugged, reading wasn't his strong suit. "Yeah, I signed it, didn't I? So what d'ya say?" "I'm fuckin' gobsmacked." "Yeah, she's a weird bird, alright. So you gonna do it?" I thought about it for a while, then nodded. It might be fun. "So how's this gonna work?" "What d'ya mean?" "We gonna come round to your gaffe and pick her up?" "Nah! She's thought of that. She says she wants it to be a surprise, so I gotta work something out with you." "Like what?" "I'll tell you what she does and when she does it, then you can choose the time." "Aren't you gonna be there?" He shook his head. "Nah! She don't want me to. Anyway, I might end up breakin' a few 'eads if I see you fuckin' my girl." "So when d'ya suggest?" "I wuz thinkin' of next Friday night. She always goes to the supermarket in the evenin', you could get her there." We discussed the forthcoming event for a while. Then I took my leave. I had a lot of planning to do and a load of mates to round up."What the fuck did you choose this heap for?" said Smithy, waving his hand around the interior of the bright pink, 1950s Cadillac. "It's hardly fucking inconspicuous, is it?" "Shut the fuck up," snarled Daryl, for whom the car was his pride and joy. "Or I'll punch your fucking lights out." "Give it a rest," I interjected. "We chose it because it's big and it has a big boot. You can hardly get her away on your fucking moped now, can we?" Now it was Smithy's turn to be incensed. "MOPED! A fucking Moped! That's a hog that is. A fucking Harley, a real one. A fucking Moped indeed." I held my hand up. "Hey, shut up. I think that's her." We all stared. She was absolutely, drop-dead, fucking gorgeous. She had shoulder-length brown hair, a breathtaking face, and a pair of legs that seemed to go on forever. A firm, bouncy pair of breasts and a figure that most girls would die for were only partly concealed by her dark business suit and white blouse. She was heading, nose in the air, towards a Porsche that was parked at the back of the car park. "Come on, you fuckers, or she'll get away." "You sure this is okay?" "Course it is. You read the letter, now come on." With that, we piled out of the car and pulled the ski masks down over our faces. She seemed to have a sixth sense, as we converged on her, and she partly turned. She was obviously stunned, momentarily, because she just stood there, her mouth open, but then she recovered and started to run. "Quick," I shouted, and Smithy leapt at her and wrapped his arms around her. She opened her mouth to scream, but I was on her like a flash, and I pushed the rag into her mouth and tied it in place with a piece of oily rope. More rope secured her hands behind her back. We stood there admiring her as she squirmed in Smithy's iron embrace. She was even more gorgeous close up. I pushed my face towards hers. "Looks like your fun is about to begin," I said, just before I secured the blindfold. I then turned to the others and said, "Come on, get her in the boot before someone sees us." We hustled her over to the car and tipped her inside the boot, carefully tying her ankles together, then looping them to her wrists with a spare loop of rope. We then slammed down the lid and sped off. The whole abduction had taken less than two minutes. Smithy's mum had a caravan out on the beach near Thurrock. It was in a run-down trailer park, that was likely to be deserted at this time of year. So it suited our purposes beautifully. It took nearly an hour to get there, during which time the guys were like schoolkids on an outing. The air was full of comments like: "You wait till she sees mine, she won't want to know you fuckers." And: "I wanna go at that mouth, man. You see those lips? Made fer sucking they are." I kept quiet, after all, I was in charge of this little event, and a little seriousness was in order on my part. When we arrived, there were 3 cars and a couple of bikes there, and, judging by the noise, the party was in full swing already. We pulled up and jumped out to open the boot. She looked lovely lying there. Her skirt had coiled up to reveal a broad expanse of micromesh-covered thigh, and we got a glimpse of a lacy garter. My blood pressure soared a couple of tons per square inch as I caught a glimpse of her soft, creamy thigh over the top of her stocking and a flash of her black lace panties. This was class, this was. "Maybe we should have got a cake," said Smithy as we undid her hogtie and pulled her out of the boot. "What the fuck are you on about, you div?" said Daryl. "You know, so we could make her jump out like at those stag parties." We thought about it for a moment, then I had an idea. "Tell you what, go and get that blanket you keep on the backseat, Daryl, while me and Smithy get her togs off." "Whatcha gonna do?" "You'll see." I put my mouth close to her ear. "You wanna get out of those restricting clothes, don't you, love? Give yourself a bit of freedom, like." She shook her head vehemently, but I ignored her as I started to unbutton her jacket. Smithy started in on the zip on her skirt and was frantically trying to tear it down. "Careful, son," I said. "Don't ruin the clobber." She writhed and tried to drop to the ground, but, with the help of the newly returned Daryl, we quickly pulled off the outer layers until she stood, shivering, in just her bra and panties. "Untie her ankles, Daryl. Let's get those knickers off and see what we've got." "Ain't she gonna get cold?" "Nah! That's what the blanket's for. Anyway, she'll get warmed up soon enough." Her struggles became even more frantic, but our blood was up now, and before long, she stood, naked, in the bitter North Sea wind. Her body was even more magnificent naked than it promised to be when she was clothed, even though it was turning a fetching shade of purplish-blue in the cold. We stood admiring it for a second, then I signaled Daryl to cover her completely in the blanket. We then hustled her inside. Altogether there were a dozen guys, including us, and they all whooped and hollered as we entered. I stood in front of her and announced, "Now, I told you that this was a bottle and bird party. Have you guys brought the bottles?" They cheered and held up a variety of cans and bottles. "In which case, here's the bird!" With that, I pulled the blanket aside to reveal her in all her glory. For a second, there was a stunned silence, then they all started talking together. "What a body." "I've got to tear myself a piece of that." "Fuck me, look at those tits." I held my hand up, and the hubbub died. "It's my party, so has anyone got any objections to me having first poke?" They shook their heads. "Okay, let's get to it, men. Here, give me a hand to hold her down." Now she was struggling like crazy, pulling this way and that like a madwoman. She was one hell of an actress, considering she wanted it and all, maybe this was part of her fantasy. Women! I don't know. We threw her on the bed, and at least a dozen powerful hands grabbed hold of any available flesh to pin her down and open, ready for her dramatic opening. Hands grabbed her breasts, her thighs, her ankles, her arms, while still more massaged and teased her legs and her sides. I burrowed my way between the forest of arms and lowered myself onto her. She felt so warm and vibrant under my, by now naked, body. My prick lay along the length of her tightly clenched thighs like a turd in a furrow. "Okay, boys, open up," I quipped, and the men on her ankles started to lever her open, while she whimpered and twisted, trying to get away. Finally, she was pulled apart like a wishbone, and her pussy lips were spread wide and ready. I touched her; she was slightly damp but hardly enough to ease our collective discomfort. So I spat on my hand and rubbed it up and down my stonking hard-on. I then positioned the head against her slot and prepared to board her in earnest. And all the time, the hands molested while she mewled and bucked. It was magic. I looked around at the leering faces. "Masks on, boys. I'm gonna take the blindfold off." They quickly pulled on their masks, and, when they had done so, I removed the blindfold. Her eyes were wide open, filled with tears, and staring straight into mine. "Ready or not, here I come," I said and lunged. Her back arched, and I could feel a ripple pass through her whole body as I forced an entry into her. My god, she was fucking tight. Tommy was a lucky guy, alright. I had to keep ramming and ramming to make any progress, but after a while, and a considerable amount of effort, I was home. I paused and stared into her eyes, our noses touching. "You ready?" I whispered, and I'm sure I saw her nod. I nodded back, and we were off, with the ribald comments of my mates ringing in my ears. It was the wildest fuck I've ever had. Even though she was pinned down, she knew more tricks than a fucking conjurer. If Black and Decker ever came up with a power tool with a fraction of the versatility that her hips displayed, then they'd take over the world. Tommy was right, this girl was fucking hot, hot, hot. Before long, I was boiling up to my cum, and, judging by her contortions and the look in her eyes, so was she. I pounded away like a madman, my mates yelling in my ears. Faster and faster I went until... I came like an army, followed microseconds later by a wild contraction of her pussy, which signaled her own orgasm was hitting her like a truck. I felt I must have poured about a gallon of spunk into that deliciously writhing body; there just seemed no end to it. Finally, I fell on her, spent. Immediately, hands pulled me off, and another guy settled between her gorgeously flared thighs, and she was off again. After the third or fourth guy, we pulled her over and onto her knees. We worked out that we might as well get the most out of her available holes, and her mouth was looking mighty unused. She kept turning away when Smithy tried to push his, admittedly dirty, prick into her mouth. So I pulled the guy away that was about to renew the humping of her pussy. I then motioned the guys to hold her tight and proceeded to spank her bottom with hard, stinging strokes. "Please, please stop. I'll do it. I'll do it," she cried. I pulled her head up by her hair. "You gonna stop fucking around and start sucking him?" "Yes <sob> please don't spank me any more." "Well, do it then," I said and pushed her head down towards Smithy's rampant prick. Her ruby lips kissed the tip, then opened wide to admit him. We could see the bulge in her cheek as he pushed himself deeper into her hot, wet cavity. She tried to pull back as he pushed against the back of her throat, but he held her head like a vice, and she just had to accept it.Just then the guy behind her lunged into her pussy with one long, forceful stroke, which pitched her forward. This in turn rammed Smithy's prick down her throat. The look on Smithy's face was a picture, and I only wished I had a camera to record it for posterity, but I remembered her instructions. I didn't want to break her rules. The evening wore on, with most of us drinking beers and watching the action. By now, she didn't need holding, and she was taking on 4 guys at once - one in her cunt, one in her mouth, and two in her hands. I reclined on the floor, studying the prick going in and out of her sloppy cunt. Each time it pulled back, I got a glimpse of her asshole, which seemed to wink beckoningly at me. I'd never had anal sex before, as my girlfriends all thought it was either disgusting or it would hurt. But this girl didn't seem to mind what we did to her. Anyway, she wasn't exactly in a position to object now, was she? So when the guy finished in a welter of spray, I told the next guy to lie down. We then maneuvered her over the small bed until she sat astride him. We then pushed her down onto his rampant prick, which immediately started banging into her. Her hands and mouth mindlessly took up the rhythm again, leaving her asshole pointing straight at my prick invitingly. Again, I spat on my hand and slowly worked my cock up to full erection. I was going to enjoy this. What can I say about the experience? She was tight, very, very fucking tight. She squirmed, yep, she squirmed alright. She even yelped a little around the prick gagging her mouth, but my blood was up, and she was going to get it. So she did. I fucked her little ass raw, and it was one of the best experiences of my life. I could feel the other guy pumping in her pussy through the thin membrane that separated us, and it seemed to spur us both on to further efforts. The best bit? That must have been when we all came together. Yes, her too! It was fucking amazing. You shoulda been there, I can't describe it. She was hotter than a fucking steam boiler, and her hips seemed to take on a life of their own, turning and grinding against us. And when she climaxed, it was like my prick was caught between the jaws of a velvet vice. I didn't stand a chance; I just had to let rip with everything I'd got. And she took it all, while she thrashed around like a madwoman. She managed to fuck all of us at one point. One in her cunt, one up her ass, two sharing her mouth, two in her hands, two in the dips behind her knees, one enterprising guy had cupped her feet together and was fucking her instep, while another had forced her tits together and were fucking them madly. There was even a couple with her hair wrapped around their pricks as they jerked off. An observer would have found it difficult to see that there was a woman in the midst of that lot. It was one hell of a finale. Finally, we were spent, and we dropped where we were. She lay on the bed, her cunt and ass red and oozing. She was in a hell of a mess, and I thought she looked great. Somehow, we managed to get enough strength together to dress her again and bundle her into the car. She was completely out of it, murmuring quietly to herself. We propped her into the passenger seat of her Porsche, and she flopped down with her head on the driver's seat. We even put her shopping in the back seat. Just before we left, I leaned down and kissed her on her cheek. It tasted flat and mildly salty. "Thanks, babe. That was great. I hope you enjoyed it." Her eyes flickered open briefly, but she said nothing. But I was sure I detected a faint nod. And so we left her.

M+/f, Gangbang, cons?

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/10266.txt

J M MCMURRAY

Citation

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

MF, light B&D

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11308.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 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/Year98/14150.txt

Andrew Roller

FUCK DECENCY 394 Passions Playpen NND g2

"Mmmm! Mmmm! Mmmm!" Cindy hummed when she'd recovered her voice. "I need somebody to play with me!" "Here, I'll do it," Nancy said. She stepped forward and fiddled with her victim's hungry slit. It offered itself most sweetly between Cindy's wide-spread legs. Cindy, though doubtless happy at finding herself thus, could not have closed off possession in any event to Nancy, for Cindy's legs were kept apart by a spreader bar. "My, they're certainly going at it!" Lynette said. She and Kate both had clapped their hands to their faces as they watched Cindy beg to be beaten. "It's... truly delicious," Jim said. Kate glanced at his dick and saw he was aroused by the scene. "Yes, you men always like seeing girls suffer," Lynette scolded. She looked at Jim's dick and tutted. He was becoming hard again. "I want you this time," Lynette breathed. "You must be whipped first," Kate, inspired and surprised at herself, blurted. "I can't stand being whipped," Lynette said. She shook her head, watching as Cindy received yet another blow from Nancy. "Then all the more reason to do it!" Kate cried. She grabbed the woman with both her hands. Lynette was a foot taller than she but Kate did not flinch in her task. Both women's bosoms bounced as Kate turned Lynette around and trotted her over to the rocking horse. "Get on. I want to see you ride it," Kate told Lynette. The 30-year-old woman looked at the horse. "I can't. It's just a horse made for little girls," Lynette said. "The saddle is quite big enough, made for a woman," Kate replied. "Your bum will overhang the back of the horse, that's all." "But!" Lynette protested. Her voice went unheeded. Kate made her take to the saddle. She could just get her leg over it without needing a stepstool. Kate made her straddle the horse and fit her bare feet into the stirrups. "God, this saddle is so soft, It's making me cum just sitting on it," Lynette gasped. Indeed, in her aroused state, knowing her ass was at pillage, the woman found herself trembling into a new orgasm. "Ride," Kate said bluntly. Kate stepped behind the woman and took a riding crop down from the wall. It was similar to the one Marie had used on her. Savoring her dominance, Kate watched as Lynette, gazing at Jim and his new erection, shudderingly rocked herself back and forth on the horse. Lynette looked over her shoulder to see what Kate was doing. "Bad!" Kate shouted. She struck the woman hard on her ass. "OooooEEEEeeek!" Lynette blurted. Tears sprang to her eyes, for the crop was thin and springy, and Kate, in her inexperience, had hit her harder than prudence dictated. Yet Lynette, instead of popping up off the horse, rubbed herself fiercely into the saddle. "Ride, little Indian!" Kate laughed. She swatted Lynette again. The woman screamed as, somewhere behind them both, Cindy offered up a new cry. A competition ensued. There was no direct communication or planning between either group but, with Cindy over the table and Lynette on the horse, the two females screamed as Nancy hit Cindy and Kate spanked Lynette. Kate did not wish to be deprived. So, with Nancy and Cindy behind her sharing Nancy's rubbing hand, and Lynette in front of her doing it to the saddle, Kate frigged herself. There were soft sighs mixed with screams as all four females tickled themselves into shuddering orgasms. Their perfume, so pickily selected just hours before, in preparation for the night, was overwhelmed by the scent of their spendings. Jim watched it all. As time went by he took a renewed interest in Kate's bottom. This time he spanked her. His palm was broad and heavy and Kate yelped as it splatted into her nether cheeks. She could not fight back against him, for he was much too big for her, so she flogged Lynette instead. It was all intermittently done, the spanks alternating with bouts of masturbation. Even Jim got into the act, palming his long sausage with his hand, then taking it away from himself to send it splatting wetly, wet with his own precum, into Kate's fanny. CHAPTER: Chapter Six CORRECTED_TEXT: "Well, now that we've all let off a little steam, let's get to know each other better," Marie suggested. With damaged bottoms everyone settled onto a piece of equipment in the game room which had, until this moment, stood ominously waiting to test them. Cindy plopped herself on her tummy on the bondage table, resting her chin in her hands. She did not have to be careful about her pregnancy yet though Marie, taking the velvet cloth from the horse, insisted on placing it under her. Nancy, who had given Cindy a belting with a man's leather belt, now bent and daubed at Cindy's weepy eyes with a linen handkerchief. Such comforts were provided in the game room to soothe injured players. "There, don't cry too hard. You might hurt your baby," Nancy teased. "Be quiet!" Cindy pouted. She sniffled and Nancy put the handkerchief gently to her nose and made her blow. "That's better. Be a big girl. You're going to be a mommy soon!" Nancy remonstrated. Like Marie, she was the only female to have an unmarked bottom. Marie sat curled in a bondage chair, watching Kate's ass with sly interest. The back of the chair had been dropped down over the space where no seat existed, to give Marie someplace to comfortably sit. It was a hinged back, for a Mistress to sit in when she needed a rest. When the playing began again, Kate had no doubt the chair's back would be raised again. Only a small perch would be left, and a pot underneath where cold coals waited to be lit. Between her fingers Marie held a stout crop. She caressed it as if it were a man's penis. It was, indeed, the only short hard object within Marie's reach at the moment, given the condition of the men's genitalia. They lounged around her, as if worshipping a goddess. Rod sat perched on top of a pillory. He seemed husband-like, sitting above Marie, while the other three males sat on the floor. His dick, however, was shrunken almost into his pubic hair. Kate gazed at him between his legs and decided she had not much taste for him. She would avoid him if she could. He was too old. Beneath Rod sat David. He was clearly the favorite between both Rod and Marie. David, having awakened some homosexual urge in Rod, sat with Rod's feet on his shoulders. The boy seemed not to mind that Rod's big toes were level with his mouth. Rod wiggled his toes to let the boy know he was possessed. David glanced up, seemed not to know how to handle his suitor. He looked at Marie. Noticing him, her eyes left Nancy's bare fanny and gave him a smile. "My, David, did I wear you out?" Marie asked. She had mounted him when he'd finished peeing. They had coupled standing up. Now David, having cum twice already, once on her leg and once in her cunt, looked relaxed. His dick was still swollen but it was not erect. It was about half its full size. Kate, gazing at him, sizing him up, licked her lips. She wanted to experience him before they all went their separate ways in the morning. Jim sat opposite Marie. He leaned his head against her thigh and said he could smell David's emissions in her perfumed cunt. Marie laughed and patted his head. "I want you next," Marie said to Jim. "You've got me," Jim answered. Kate felt no jealousy. She had felt Jim in her (albeit in her bottom). Now she wanted David, and she realized she hated Rod because she knew he wanted David too, perhaps in his ass.Mike lounged back and relaxed on the floor. He seemed too tired to sit. He had taken the waitress on the floor. Dripping his semen down the insides of her thighs, she now served them, still white-gloved. More shrimp was offered, fresh from a game room fridge. White and red wine were poured into glasses and served to the guests. Fresh crab meat was brought out, layered with cheese atop crackers. Ritz crackers, whole wheat. Kate took one. She bit into it gently and found it scrumptious. Beth, the waitress, handed her a glass of white wine to go with it. The women were in various states of pleasant disrepair. All had been bottom-smacked except Nancy and Marie. Kate sat with her knees apart on the floor, under the bondage table. Above her, she could hear Cindy simpering about her baby. Cindy liked to complain about the importance of her baby now that everyone knew she was pregnant anyway. It made her feel fragile, Kate suspected, and in need of both attention and protection. (And a good fuck, of course.) Perhaps she wished to be first in line when the fucking began again because, of course, she was pregnant, Kate mused. "Please give me more crackers," Cindy told Beth. "I'm PREGNANT!" Beth complied, quietly. Kate rolled her eyes and blew teasingly into Beth's pubic hair as the waitress bent over her to pass the crackers to Cindy. "An ill wind blows nobody any good," Lynette told Kate. She sat beside the girl on the floor. Kate smiled at Lynette and blew into Beth's pubic hair again. "My, it's windy in here," Beth murmured. Then she turned and went to Nancy and offered her crackers. Beth was quiet and compliant. Her bottom, well-warmed by Marie before the night even began, kept her obedient. "Oh, gee. Do I get a cracker? And I'm not even pregnant!" Nancy smirked. "You're a meanie," Cindy snapped. Then she sniffled, self-pityingly. "OW!" She cried suddenly. Nancy, sitting with her bottom newly perched on the edge of the bondage table, gave Cindy's upturned ass a smack with her open palm. "Oooooohhhhhh-OH!" Cindy moaned. The smack was not hard but, coming upon the stern marks left by the belting Nancy had given her, it made her tush sizzle. "Don't complain, don't sniffle, and don't say you're preggy again all night long!" Nancy said in a girlish, sassy voice. "My, aren't we in charge?" Marie said with sly eyes. "Come here, Nancy. You're going to entertain us a bit while we rest." Nancy bit her lip but did not disobey. She saw the crop in Marie's hand as clearly as anyone. She slipped from the table and padded over to Marie. As if to win the woman's favor, she presented her cunny to her, pushing her hips out in front of her as she stood by the woman's knee. She tossed her short brown hair back from her face with a backward bob of her head. Kate smiled at her casual air. So calm, yet so lewd at the same time, as if showing one's cunny to another woman were just an ordinary, everyday act. Marie extended a curled finger and touched Nancy's slitted nest. Nancy jerked but did not complain. She kept her hips offered. She gritted her teeth a little as Marie began to stroke her fleece. "Yes, Nancy, I'm going to excite you a little first... ah, is that your spot? Have I found it?" Marie asked. Nancy seized up like a child receiving an injection. She lifted her eyes to the ceiling. "And then, Nancy dear, when you're in a nice heat, I'm going to flip you over my knee and paddle your cute little ass." "Oh, NO pleazzze," Nancy begged, her eyes still fixed on the ceiling. "Yes, and with this crop if you prove uncooperative," Marie said. "Nobody gets out of my game room with an uninjured bottom, my dear. Erotically injured, of course. Something to make you remember me by when you sit down tomorrow, and the next day too. I consider it a gift. From me to you," Marie said to Nancy. She invaded the girl's slit but Nancy remained standing. She clapped her hands to her bottom and begged that it be spared. Yet she stood complaint, pushing her hips out to Marie. Nancy's small hands rubbed the white cheeks of her ass and she remained with her eyes fixed on the roof.

Chapter Five

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/13488.txt

Corn53

Marie Clair- Birthday Party

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

Part 3 of 4

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11769.txt

Taria

Phone Sex

"So then Sandman comes in, sweet-talks me some, and then we jump in the sack and screw our brains out." "This is your big fantasy?" "Well..." "For crying out loud, Janey, that's just like his story!" "Hey -- I LIKED his story." "Me too, but there must be more than THAT." "Why? Too vanilla?" "Vanilla City." "I happen to LIKE vanilla." "Look -- it's not like I'm saying you have to jump right into Chocolate Double-Fudge Rocky Road. But maybe a little Mocha Chip or Cookies 'n' Cream would add something, you know?" "Hmm. How 'bout he drags me into the elevator by my hair, rips off my clothes, and takes me by force right there in front of the security camera while the guard's watching downstairs?" "As if! You could never pull it off, 'specially not with Gentle Ben." "I guess you're right. *SIGH* At this rate I'll never even reach June, let alone 'Janey's July.' Next thing you know I'll be writing 'Janey's Little Whorehouse': MMM+F, pedo, incest." "Don't get silly. C'mon -- don't you have anything else? How about fantasies? Don't you have any fantasies you'd just love to try?" "We-elll..." "Famous people?" "I don't know..." "Paul Newman?" "Too old." "Brad Pitt?" "Too vapid." "Leonardo DiCaprio." "Eeeeuw! It'd be like seducing a Little Leaguer." "He IS twenty-three, you know." "Ick. Besides, even for midgets he's pretty undersized." "Who, then?!" "How 'bout Tom Selleck?" "Oh, Vanilla BEAN! Come ON -- tall, nice, and that smile... It'd be like Sandman, but with a moustache." "How d'you know he doesn't have a moustache?" "!!! He sent you a PICTURE?!? Well, excuse me, Miss Congeniality. Not all of us get courted by tall handsome strangers. Hang on 1 sec..." ~ ~ ~ "Errr-krrr, Erm brrrk." "Sorry?" "Err srrd, Oh-Kay, I'm Back." "What're you eating over there?" "--ss k---" "I can't hear you. Speak up, now." "ICE CREAM, okay? I ran to the freezer and grabbed a pint of Haagen-Dasz. Hell, if you get to be the popular one then I get to be the fat one. That's the deal." "What flavor?" "Heh. Vanilla." "Slut! You take back that stuff about 'vanilla' right now, before I tell everybody how Professor Hotstuff is really just another Miss Vanilla!" "Speaking of which...?" "What?" "We were discussing your fantasy." "Oh. Right. If you must know, there is this one..." "C'mon now, don't leave me hanging. Spill!" "OK. A tittie-fuck. There. I said it. Happy?" "A ti--? OH! I get it. You mean him... and you..." "Yeah. It's not like I've ever been able to... Let's just say it's an experience I always wanted to try for myself. Successfully, I mean. I have tried, but..." "Mrrrrgh. Rrrk. *ULP* Look. Janey. How many times have I told you that you worry too much about your boobs? What is it they say -- 'size doesn't matter'." "Easy for you to say." "Aw, that's not fair. Do I strike you as the Pam Anderson type?" "No... But at least you have something to work with!" "Get real. It's not like a few cup sizes worth of fatty tissue is anything to brag about. Besides, have you ever tried to have a conversation with a man whose eyes are glued to your chest?" "Nooo..." "Don't sound so wistful. It's a pain in the ass, and it's really annoying. And tit-fucking's not such a big loss anyway." "Why not?" "First of all, he has to get on top of you so that his... thing is positioned properly, right?" "Doesn't sound so bad to me so far." "Wait until some guy plants his knee in your stomach while he's trying to get there. Then he ends up sitting his ass right on your ribs so you can't breathe." "I get the picture. Still--" "Lemme finish. Now, what does the guy need to get off?" "Friction, I guess." "Score one for the Amazon. But too much friction and his little wonkie's gonna get all red and sting-y." "Well, duh. So lubricate the sucker." "Duh yourself. Ever have a slimy chest full of saliva or jelly or some other goop?" "I have three kids." "I withdraw the question. But you know what I mean. So there you are, on your back, suffocating, with a clammy chest. Then he pokes you with his wonkie -- stop snorting there. Fine. His 'willie'. Better?" " *SNORT* Much." "So he pokes you with his willie and sorta prods around until you kind of squish 'em together--" "Mmmm... yeah, baby, go on..." "Oh, grow up! You perv. You're just as obsessed with hooters as all the rest of 'em." "Maybe. But with me it's voyeuristic avarice, not just horniness. Let's just say I'm projecting." "Projecting about my projections? Sounds like Boob Envy." "Very funny." "Say -- I once read in the paper about this Anthropologist who said men are attracted to women's breasts because the cleavage looks like a backside." "You have GOT to be kidding." "Hee hee! I'm totally serious. Or he was. Anyway, he said when guys see a nice pair they get turned on, because they're really thinking of mounting the female from behind." "That is weird. Science geeks are really reeeeeeally weird." "Gotta wonder about HIS sex life." "Probably does a lot of tit-fucking. Which you didn't finish. You left the guy with his -- whad'ya call it? -- his Wonker all hanging out." "Wonkie. It's a technical term." "Straight out of 'Scientific American.' So after you squish together, then what?" "So you squish 'em together until he's cocooned, you know? Like a tunnel." "I get it. The slick Tunnel of Luuuuve." "Hah! Exactly. In my experience I've mostly sat there, squishing my tunnel while he moves back and forth, back and forth, back and forth... After a while your grip slips a little and then he loses the tunnel, and he's just waving his willie around, making pathetic little noises until you re-grip." "Oh, my." "You're not kidding. And you cannot, must not EVER laugh, no matter how much you want to, not if you want any payback in the future." "I already knew the No Laughing rule." "Yeah, but it's harder when he's sitting on you and mewling." "I see your point." "To make a long story short, you basically lie there while he wiggles around your clammy chest, and then he starts huffing until it goes off. That's the scary part." "Scary?" "Hell, yes. Did you know that stuff shoots out at 28 miles an hour? And guess where it all ends up?" "I... I never thought of that." "All over, is where! On your chest. On your neck. On your forehead. Up your nose." "Eeyuch!" "In your HAIR. Eeeew! I get the shakes every time I think about his stuff in my hair. It can take DAYS to get that out. I prefer it when all the bodily fluids stay down below where they belong." "So no tit-fucking." "Rrrrgh." "Didn't your mother ever teach you not to talk with your mouth full?" "Nrrrp." "You know, for such a nice girl..." " *GULP* Hah!" "What?" "I just thought, 'what's the definition of a Nice Girl'?" "One who puts it in for you." "That's not bad! I was going to say 'A girl who swallows.' That's what made me laugh." "So... do you?" "Do I what? Swallow?" "Mm-hmm." "Um... sometimes, I guess. It's not up there on my Top Five." "Why not?" "Besides the taste and the consistency, you mean?" "It's not THAT terrible." "I never said it was. It's just not my favorite thing, that's all. Mrmmmmm. Grrme Hrrrgn Drrz rrny day." "Not only is this call gonna cost an arm and a leg, but you're also going to gain a hundred pounds by the time we hang up." " *SNIFF* You mean if I look like a sumo wrestler you won't love me any more?" " *SNORT* " "I thought this was unconditional love." "Not if you start to look like Jabba the Hutt, it isn't." "Boy -- you're a MEAN career counselor." "I just tell it like it is, sweet thing." "So what do YOU think of the taste?" "Of Haagen-Dasz?" "No, you beanpole. Of guys' squirt." "It's not so bad, not really. Especially if you consider what they get when they're messin' around 'Down There'." "Whaddaya mean by THAT?" "You know." "Are you insinuating that I taste BAD?" "Well, no... I just--" "I'll have you know that my quim is a luscious tropical Garden of Delight." "Ha!" "Between my spread thighs lie the portals to the Gates of Heaven!" "Ha! Ha! Hehehe!" "To taste my juices is to drink the Nectar of the Gods!" "God, stop -- you're killing me here!" "You're laughing at my pussy?" "Ha-ha-huh-huh-hee-- No -- no, of course not." "Now she's sulking. There. No more pussy for you." "None for me?" "That's right. NO PUSS FOR YOU!" "Aw, c'mon. Don't get all insulted. Let me make it up to you." "No. You were mean about how my little Pussy tastes, and she doesn't forgive you." "I'm sorry. Really. Tell her I apologize." "Weeelllll..." "Here."Here's a kiss *SMAK* to make up." "A kiss?" "Sure. A little kiss for your offended quim." "-----" "Taria?" "-----" "Taria? You still there?" "Mmmm." "What? What'd I say?" "You know what I wish?" "What?" "I wish... No. Forget it." "Forget what?" "You wouldn't... never mind." "Tell me." "I wish you would. I mean, I wish you were here, and you really did. Kiss me. There, I mean." "Oh. Um. I--" "Just forget it. Forget I ever said that. Let's just pretend I didn't just totally embarrass myself by saying that." "Why?" "Because it was a dumb thing to say, that's why. Here I am, talking to the Straightest Woman in America--" "Who, me?" "Yes, you. You said so yourself." "Yes, well, I DID say that. But..." "No, no 'buts'. It was just--" "Taria." "--a stupid--" "Taria!" "--moronic thing to--" "TARIA!!!" "What?" "Hush. Just... pipe down a minute." "But-- I--" "You are simply IMPOSSIBLE when you get all hyper like this. Now, put away the Haagen-Dasz." "Why? I... OK." "No! Wait! I have a better idea. Are you home alone?" "You know I am. Otherwise we wouldn't be talking like this where somebody could eavesdrop." "Good. What are you wearing?" "'What am I wearing'? What is this?" "Just TELL ME. God, you are difficult sometimes." "OK, OK. I'm wearing a white t-shirt with four colored parrots on it that says "The Celts Will Rise Again," a pair of soft grey sweatpants, no socks, and underneath I'm wearing a boring white bra and panties. More? I have my glasses on so I can see anything past the end of my nose, and my hair is a mess, just all over the place." "Fine. Take off the t-shirt. Please." "Take off--? All right, all right. Just don't yell at me any more. One... sec... There. Now what?" "Does your bra unhook in front or in back?" "Um... Front today." "I want you to rub your hands softly up your sides and across your belly. Then gently -- as gently as you can -- caress the curve of your breasts through your bra. Can you do that?" "Uh-huh. Wait -- let me put on the 'speakerphone' so I can use my hands. There. I'm right next to the phone, up real close, so I don't feel so far away from you. My hands are moving... Now they're at my breasts, cupping them gently, like you said." "Are you all right? You seem to be getting a little quiet over there." "Mmm. Yes, yes, I'm fine. What now?" "Keep caressing them. Softly, softly..." "Mmm." "Are your eyes closed or open?" "Um... open. I'm looking at the phone, at the speaker where your voice is coming from." "Why don't you close them." "OK. Heehee. I'll probably get all off-balance and fall down, though. Can I lie down on the carpet in here, on the floor? I'll take the phone down here with me, so I'm still right near the speaker." "Sure." "One second... All right. I'm lying on my back on the floor with my head on a little pink throw pillow, with the phone and the ice cream next to me, and my eyes closed. I wish I could see you, though." "Me? I'm in my bedroom, on the bed. It's a mess right now, but I cleared the bed by sweeping everything down onto the floor so I have some room. If you want, I'll lie down too." "I'd like that. What do you have on?" "Nothing fancy. Just jeans and a shirt." "Take yours off too. Take off your shirt and lie here next to me." "All right." "I'm lying next to you, still touching my breasts like you asked." "Now I want you to move just the tips of your fingers to the clasp of your bra. Trail them over the exposed tops, the curvature of your breasts, and then down to the center. Now, slowly, bend the clasp out so it snaps, and then, as slowly as you can, lift it free. Can you do that?" "Yes... *SNIK* ...It's open now." "I've unfastened your brasseire, and now I peel the halves apart gradually, revealing your bare breasts. With the lightest touch I have I trace their outline, using the backs of two fingers to graze the smooth warm surface." "Oh... that feels so nice." "Almost accidentally, I brush my fingers over your nipples as they travel up to your cleavage, circumnavigating your globes." "Aahh!" "Then I deliberately take each nipple between two fingers and lightly squeeze and rub, stimulating you." "Ohhhh... They're getting hard... they're standing up already. Oh, Janey... I wish you were here, SO much. What are you doing, with your hands, for real?" "Nothing much." "Touch yourself, please... like you're touching me." "If you want." "Tell me." "All right. With my left hand I am gently rubbing the nipple of my left non-existent breast." "No! Not like that! I don't CARE if you have NOTHING there, if you think you look like a twelve-year-old boy. I just want you to feel what I feel, this soft touch that is making me tingle all over my body. I want to share this with you." "Mmmm... I... I do too." "Are you aroused, at all?" "Yes, a little." "I wish I were there with you, caressing you with my hands. I wish these were your hands on me, not just mine." "Me too." "Oh, Janey, you have me so turned on right now. Just your VOICE... What should I do now?" "Mmmm... What do you still have on?" "Just my grey sweat pants. I can see you lying there on your bed, your long, long legs in your jeans, your hands still touching your naked chest." "That'd be about right... Say, how's your ice cream doing?" "My ice cream?!? I have no idea. It's probably all melted by now." "Perfect. Stop caressing yourself and pick it up. Is the spoon still in there?" "Yes, it is. Eek! Cold container now resting on my stomach. I have to say this is less of a turn-on than a breast-rub, though." "Just wait. I want you to scoop a small spoonful of melted ice cream and drizzle it onto your left nipple." "It's going to end up on the carpet." "The hell with the carpet -- you'll get some of that Stain-Out stuff and clean it later." "All righ-- YIPE! Cold! One Boob Sundae, as requested." "Now put down the ice cream and push up your nipple until you can reach it with your tongue." "I had a feeling I knew where this was going. You're lucky -- I can just barely do that." "Now close your eyes and lick, tiny slow licks." "Ummm..." "Do you feel me licking your nipple clean?" "Uh-huh..." "Oooo, so sweet, but with a teensy bit of salty you mixed in with the ice cream. Now I take the nipple between my lips and suck, ever so lightly, on just the tip, the nipple." "Oh..." "Now the other one, the right one, the one without any ice cream. Lick that one too, and suck it, but harder." "Ah! Oh... if you were here I'd want you to do that for hours. But my neck is getting a crick, so I have to stop." "I am SO jealous. I have ALWAYS wished I could do that, like in those porn movies." "It's better if you're bigger than I am. I tell you what -- take your thumb and your index finger, and suck on them. Get them really, really wet and juicy." "Mmmm." "Now take the nipple of your non-existent left breast and rub it between your slick fingers." "Mmmmmmmmm." "Can you feel me? Can you feel my mouth?" "It's not the same." "I'll say it isn't. But that's only because if I were with you I would be devouring your wonderful tiny boobs with my tongue, and my lips, and tiny nibbles with my teeth. I've heard that small breasts are soooo sensitive." "Uh-huh." "Besides, I've never really tasted any before, and I'd rather start small before I jump up to sucking on double-D's. Just long licks up your nipples, and little nibbles and kisses all the way up to your collarbone and your shoulders, and then back again... And maybe I stop for a minute and kiss your neck, and your cheek, and I move across until my mouth is poised right over your lips, and we look into each others' eyes, deeply." "Uhhhhhh..." "Oh, my... you're getting really aroused, aren't you?" "Aaaahh... God, yes." "I can hear it in your voice. I want to kiss you so badly, Janey." "Me too. I want to taste your mouth, your tongue, your lips." "Please...please..." "What do you want?" "I want YOU, all of you, and I want you NOW." "All of me?" "Every inch of that long, beautiful body of yours. Please... take me now, please. I don't think I can stand any more." "Your voice is pretty expressive, too." "Janey -- PLEASE!!" "Heh heh heh... All right, all right. Keep your shirt off." "I can't believe you would torture me like this. On the computer you were so NICE!" "That was just a facade. Really I'm a sadistic domme housewife and mother. They call me the Massachusetts Mistress. hey, I like that -- 'Mistress Janey'. That'd be wicked cool on my office door." "How CAN you?! I am lying here, half-naked, writhing on the carpet, and insanely turned on. Janey, if I don't get an orgasm soon..." "Then what?" "JANEY!!!" "Okay, okay. I give in. Pull down your sweat pants, but leave them on, around your ankles." "Yes, Mistress! Done." "My, that was quick. Now the panties." "Too late -- I yanked 'em down with the sweat pants." "Heeheehee. You ARE getting desperate. Now, let me see..." "Janey?" "What is it?" "Could we stop telling me what to do, and instead could I hear about you?" "Me? Well--" "I don't just want a fantasy -- I can do that by myself. I want you. For real. I want to cum, but together, with you. Could we?" "We-elll... I never have before. Done this, I mean. But I'm always open to new experiences, especially if it's you on the other end of the line." "Tell me, then." "All right. I'm lying on my bed, thinking of a nice medium lady with brown eyes and brown hair and gold-rimmed glasses--not the icky kind--and an absolutely wonderful mind." "Don't be silly." "I'm not being silly, not even the slightest bit. And while I'm doing that, I'm pulling these jeans I'm wearing down and, oh, hell, all the way off, and I might possibly, with my left hand, rub the nipple of my left non-existent breast again." "Ohhhhh...""Now I'm putting my right hand down between my legs, where, lo and behold!" "What?" "It's kind of squeezing the outside lips of my great voracious quim together a little and rubbing." "Oh, yesssss..." "Now it's working its way inside those lips until it finds a cute little nub." "Oh, YES! My clit's been waiting for AGES!" "My little nub has, too. Well, maybe it's not that little. Now my hand is rubbing gently, gently..." "Oh, Janey..." "And a little more..." "Oh! You're making me feel SOOOO good... I'm getting soooo close..." "And now I'm starting to get the most delicious feeling, and all the time, I'm imagining that in fact I'm lying in bed with you, and it's YOUR hand doing all these unspeakable things to me..." "Oh! Oh! I want to lick you, and taste you, and kiss you..." "GOD, Taria!" "OH, sweetheart, this is... Aaaaah... ahhh... OH!" "Yes! Oh, Taria, are you going to...?" "Oh yes, oh, I love you so much--" "I'm cumming--" "AAAAAAAAAAH!" "Ta-- ah-- I love-- OH! YES!!" "Whew! That was... awe-inspiring." "Taria?" "Uhhh?" "You okay?" "Nuh-uhh." "What's the matter?" "Uhhh... uh... Melted. Puddle of Taria." "Want me to come over and help lick her-- I mean, clean her up?" "Hee." "To weak even to laugh?" "'Fraid so. That was incredible." "Me too." "'m lucky." "Me too." "Lucky in love, lucky in luuuuve..." "Don't start singing little songs. You KNOW about me and those little sing-songs." "Janey n' Tar-ia sittin' in a tree..." "P-H-O-N-I-N-G!" "Stop! Heeheehee! Stop! I'm too weak and emaciated for a giggle-fit." "Emaciated? After all that ice cream?" "There's no calories when you eat ice cream in a deviant and perverted manner." "Was THAT what we were doing?" "You bet my sticky nipple." "Well, you may be a sicko deviant pervert, but I love you." "I love you too, even if you are an abnormally oversexed Amazonian athlete." "I'll take that as a compliment." "Jeez -- what TIME is it?!?" "It's probably-- Oh boy, it IS late. I'd better get back to 'Janey's May' before I have to get back into 'Mom's Taxi' and get the kids." "I understand... Shoot! I'm late to pick up Mark! He's going to KILL me!" "Just tell him you were on the phone with me. He'll understand." "I sure hope not! Say -- we never did come up with a good story plot for you, did we?" "Weeellll... I wouldn't say THAAAT..." "But-- Oh. OH!" "Heh heh heh." "You WOULDN'T!" "All's fair, Dear, all's fair. Don't worry -- I'll send you a copy by e-mail. Right AFTER I post it." "Janey, you--" "I what?" "You're a woman after my own heart." "I certainly am." "Look -- just don't post anything rash until the next time we talk, all right?" "I'm not sayin'." "I'll get you my pretty..." "Promises, promises." " *SIGH* 'Got me a hard-headed woman.' I'll talk to you soon." "Can't wait." "Bye." "Bye." *CLICK*

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/10800.txt

Corn53

Marie Clair - Goes To the Wrong School

"Why, sure, you may sit here, sir," Marie Clair said to the kind-looking, middle-aged gentleman. She was glad to have a "gentleman" sit next to her on the train, considering there was some "riff-raff" getting on behind him. She sure wouldn't want to sit next to one of them. Her aunt had warned her about some of the people who might be on the commuter train. "My name is Marie Clair, and I'm on my way to Saint Catherine's School for Girls in town. I've never been to the city before," she said, introducing herself. The man looked her up and down, making her blush, and said, "It's my pleasure, Marie Clair. My name is Dr. Hardman. I'm an instructor at Saint Catherine's. What a small world." "Well, this is my lucky day, and tomorrow will be even luckier!" she said cryptically. "Why is that, my dear?" "I'm going to be fourteen! It's my birthday tomorrow." "My, my. I would never have guessed. You look much younger," he said. "Wouldn't it be strange if you were the student housekeeper we've been expecting? Maybe I should call Mrs. Hardman to see what to do. She could even ask the headmistress to assign you to us. Then you wouldn't have to take the bus in to campus and risk getting lost in the city. You could ride home in the car with me and settle in a day early." "Oh, I wouldn't want to inconvenience you, Dr. Hardman," then she added, "But I have been worried about getting on the wrong bus." "Yes, I'm sure your mother warned you about getting on the wrong bus, didn't she?" "No, I lived on a farm with my Aunt and Uncle, because my parents are deceased. But, yes, my Aunt warned me about lots of things. She made the city sound like such a scary place," Marie Clair replied, looking down at the floor. Her feet did not touch the floor of the train car, and she was nervously swinging her feet apart and together. "Oh, I'm sorry to hear about your parents," commented Dr. Hardman, and patted her on the knee. "You are very fortunate to have your Aunt and Uncle." "Yes, I suppose," still not looking up, "Auntie was usually nice, but Uncle John was also my teacher, and sometimes he was pretty strict." "What do you mean - 'strict?'" "Well, sometimes when I didn't learn things fast enough, he would spank me." "Sometimes little girls need spankings, though. Don't they?" he asked her and patted her knee again. "I'm sure if he spanked you too hard, your Auntie would have said something." "Hmm, now that you mention it, he usually spanked me when she was gone. But a few times when she was home, she would come into the study and watch me getting spanked. Once she even said she should spank me more when he was done... to help me learn my manners and to show some gratitude." "Now, now, Marie Clair," patting above her knee, "Whatever they did must have really worked because you are so sweet and polite. I'm sure Mrs. Hardman and I will be able to use you as our housegirl, just because you have such good manners." "I wasn't sure what kind of a job Auntie had arranged for me, but this would be great." "Of course, we may need to paddle you occasionally, but only for your own good. You want to continue to be a good little girl, don't you?" patting a little harder on the inside of her knee. "Auntie said I should follow directions without asking so many questions," finally smiling at herself. "I bet I do such a perfect job that you won't ever have to spank me, Dr. Hardman." Marie Clair's plaid, school skirt reached to just below her knees. Her black, patent leather shoes and white knee socks completed her uniform. The collar on her starched, plain white shirt had ruffles that almost touched her chin. The plaid tie and v-neck sweater matched her skirt, with matching plaid ribbons on her pigtails on the sides of her head. Her sandy-red hair didn't clash with the red plaid. No makeup adorned her pretty face with turned-up nose and full lips. Even with all those modest clothes, Marie was obviously slender. "Now, let me guess, Marie Clair, you must weigh about 110 pounds," asked Dr. Hardman. "No, sir. More like 95, even with all these clothes on," almost laughing. "I don't feel afraid anymore," and further explaining her laughter. "I was really worried about getting my suitcase and finding the right bus." They were pulling into the station. "Just come with me, Marie Clair. I'll call my wife from the car and have her get your room ready. We'll make you feel right at home. She might even have a maid's uniform to fit you." Marie Clair wasn't sure about a uniform. She had been taught to remain modestly covered at all times - from her chin to her toes. She had been hoping for some reason to wear "regular" clothes like girls her age did on television, which she was rarely allowed to watch. "Um, Dr. Hardman, do you have a television set? I almost never get to watch it at home," Marie Clair ventured, hoping for a positive answer. "That's a privilege you will have to earn, dear. But I'm sure you will do a good job," walking to the car. He was carrying her small suitcase. "You seem to be travelling light. For someone planning to be away at school for four years." "Well, Auntie said I'll have to do my laundry almost every day. She said if I earn some money, I'll be able to pick out my own new clothes," and looking around at all the people and confusion, added, "I'm sure glad I met you so I don't have to try to find that bus!" In the car, he phoned his wife. Marie Clair only heard half of the conversation. Her feet did not touch the floor in the car, which made the dress ride up, exposing her knees between the stockings and skirt. "Hello. This is Dr. Hardman. Is Mrs. Hardman near the phone?" pause. "Hello, Darling. I've run into one of the Saint Catherine's School for Girls students on the train, and I'm bringing her home with me. She weighs 95 pounds and will be needing a maid's uniform. We should be there in about 45 minutes." pause. "She's about Susie's size. Remember her?" "Oh, yes, Dear. Good idea. I'm sure she'll be wanting a bath. Go ahead and get everything ready." longer pause. "No, I'm sure she'll be very obedient. She's a darling little girl. Be sure to put in a new tape. I'm not sure about shaving supplies, so check on it," with his hand on her knee, patting each time he mentioned what a good girl she was. Marie Clair could not help but overhear and had several questions, but she didn't want to interrupt. "Her aunt and uncle had to spank her when necessary, so we may need to find the canes and things, but I don't think we'll need them," and he winked at her. "What?" pause, "I'll ask her?" Looking directly at her, he asked, "How many panties and bras do you have?" Blushing, looking down, "Um, I think six panties." Back into the phone, "She'll be needing some panties." Looking at Marie Clair again, "How many bras do you have?" "I don't have one. Auntie says I don't need one," then brightening, she added, "But I wish I had one so I could be like the other girls." Patting her bare knee, he said to Marie Clair, "Don't worry, we'll get you several pretty, little bras, dear. I hope you'll like them." "Oh, I'm sure I will. I never put one on before." "We'll help you, dear, don't worry about a thing. You're going to be so pretty. What size do you need?" Looking at her chest, "It's hard to guess through all those clothes." Blushing again, but looking at Dr. Hardman, "I don't know. They're very little. How do you tell what size they are?" "Take your sweater off, and I'll be able to tell. Then when we get to the house, Mrs. Hardman will measure you for sure after she helps you with your bath." Uncertainty showing in her face, Marie Clair began taking off her sweater. "Why do I need to take off my sweater, Dr. Hardman?""More firmly, 'You will need to learn to follow directions, young lady, without asking so many questions. You want to live with us for your full scholarship, don't you? We'll provide room and board, and in exchange, you will help our housekeeper, serve meals, and so forth. You will need to follow whatever directions we give you, not only Mrs. Hardman and myself, but also some of our distinguished guests. Do you understand?' 'Yes, Sir.' Pulling off her sweater, flipping her pigtails back and forth, 'I'll do whatever you ask, and I'll try not to ask so many questions. Sorry.' 'Good girl. Now unbutton your blouse.' Seeing her hesitate, 'All the way. Hurry up, I'm on the phone. Mrs. Hardman needs to know this so she can get out the correct sizes. Choosing a bra is more difficult than you may realize, Young Lady.' 'Yes, Sir. See, I'm following your directions.' Looking a little worried and unbuttoning as fast as she can. 'There - all unbuttoned,' she said with a sigh of relief. 'Oh, you have a T-shirt on, too. Lift it up so I can see what size bra you will need.' 'Yes, sir.' She untucked her T-shirt, bunching it in her fingers, and lifted it all the way up to her chin. 'I'm looking forward to getting my first bra, Dr. Hardman.' Into the phone again, 'Well, she looks like almost a "B" cup already, even though it's her first one. I'll check the firmness.' With that, he reached his right hand to Marie Clair's breasts and began a few minutes of "firmness checking." Occasionally taking his eyes off the traffic, Dr. Hardman determined that they were indeed very firm, pointing straight out, with no crease underneath. 'Darling, yes, she's a "B" cup and has very firm and pointy breasts. With small pink nipples by the way.' Pause. 'Yes, Dear, I'm sure you will. They are about 60 durometer, and about 110 at the tip. Extremely high British Thermal Unit possibilities. Did I tell you it's Marie Clair's birthday tomorrow? Yes, yes. You could take her shopping. We can have a cake tomorrow evening. Perhaps our guests could bring presents and help with the spanking. Call and tell them. Bye, Dear.' And he clicked off his cell phone. With her blouse now back in place, Marie Clair was glad she had proved she could follow directions without asking so many questions. She also wondered why her breasts felt so tingly. Had she been alone, she may have continued to test her own "firmness" for a while longer. She wondered about the birthday shopping and other guests spanking her. 'I didn't know getting a bra would be so complicated, Dr. Hardman. Thank you for your help.' 'There is more to it than you think, especially since you will be fitted with a special uniform.' They drove the next half hour in almost complete silence, each lost in their own thoughts. The long driveway led to a Victorian house with a spacious lawn. Marie Clair was excited to see such a grand house. Many questions rattled in her mind, but she resolved to keep them to herself and just follow directions until she got to know the Hardmans better. As if reading her mind, Dr. Hardman said, 'Welcome to your new home, Marie Clair. I'm sure you will enjoy your stay here. Just remember to do whatever we tell you, even if it may seem silly or embarrassing at the moment. OK?' patting her knee again, a little higher. 'Yes, Sir. I'm sure glad I met you on the train.' Dr. Hardman carried her suitcase into the foyer and introduced his wife and their maid, Inga. Marie Clair had difficulty not staring at Inga's maid uniform. The short, black ruffled skirt barely covered her lacy white panties, which showed when she curtsied or moved. Black mesh stockings covered her long, slender legs, and you could see the black garter straps fastened to the tops. Marie Clair guessed Inga's age at about 21. The white apron only covered the front of her very-short skirt and reached up to her low-cut sheer blouse. Marie Clair also noticed that the top half of Inga's breasts were exposed, almost like they were resting on a stiff corset platter. Not that they were large - 'about orange size,' thought Marie Clair, but the way they were presented made them appear larger. Everyone noticed Marie Clair's stare. Inga was also checking out 'Little Marie' as she later called her. The adults stopped talking and watched the girls' mutual staring. 'Inga! Take Marie Clair's suitcase on up to her room now and then start the bath, while we show her around her new home,' directed Mrs. Hardman. 'Yes, Mum. Right away.' Before turning, she bowed deeply to Marie Clair, offering a clearer view of her breasts to the shorter girl. 'And pleased to meet you, Miss Marie.' Then Inga turned and bent farther than was necessary to pick up the small suitcase, offering another, better view of her sheer, lacy panties to Little Marie. She picked up the suitcase and headed up the stairs. Marie Clair watched her ascend. 'Marie Clair? Marie Clair! Look here. We need to get your picture.' After several snapshots of Marie Clair, Mrs. Hardman said, 'Come with me now, and I'll show you around.' Then to her husband, 'Douglas, I had Inga lay out her things and will give her a bath before dinner. And just in case of further daydreaming, I also got out the canes and paddles as you requested.' 'Oh, I'm sorry, Mrs. Hardman, I was just thinking of Inga's outfit. I've never seen anything like it before,' apologizing. 'Your uniform will be different, Dear.' She led Marie Clair on a tour of the first floor, explaining some of her new duties as they went. When they went into the living room, Marie Clair picked up the remote control for the TV and clicked it on. 'Young lady! Who said you could do that? You must ask first. You are a servant here. Since you're so new, I'll only give you five hand spanks. Now turn around and bend over,' commanded Mrs. Hardman. Turning off the TV and turning around as ordered, Marie Clair said, 'I'm sorry. I didn't know the rules. Please don't spank me.' 'Pull down your panties and be quick. That's three more for insubordination. But since it's your first day, I'll spank lightly.' 'Yes, Ma'am.' Not wanting to offend the hostess further, she pulled her cotton panties down to her knees, keeping her feet far enough so that they wouldn't fall to the floor, as she bent over. 'Come over to the couch, Marie Clair. I'm going to sit down, and I want you to...' Taking Marie Clair's hand, standing her up and walking her to the couch. Marie shuffled, trying to keep her panties from slipping down over her knee socks. It didn't work. 'Why, Marie Clair! Your panties are touching the floor. Just take them off and give them here.' Marie Clair stooped and picked them up. Turning, she handed them to the now seated Mrs. Hardman. 'Turn around. Lift your skirt.' 'Yes, Ma'am.' 'Put your feet farther apart. Bend over farther. Back up until your legs touch the edge of the couch. Put your feet farther apart. Hold on to your ankles.' Marie Clair was obediently holding that position, waiting, waiting. Thinking, 'When is it going to start?' 'Good. Just try to bend a little farther.' Her skirt flopped over her back so her entire bare bottom was exposed. 'I want you to count these, Marie Clair, and say "Thank You, Ma'am" after each spank. Do you understand?' Quietly, 'Yes, Ma'am.' Another pause. Marie Clair holding her ankles, waiting. Smack. 'One. Thank you, Ma'am.' SMACK! much harder. 'Ouch.' And standing up, rubbing her bottom. 'Two, thank you, Ma'am.' 'I didn't say you could stand up. I didn't say you could rub your bottom.' And continuing in a level, patient tone, 'So that's two more. Do I need to get Dr. Hardman or Inga to hold you?' 'No! I'm sorry. I'll do better.' And with a flip of her dress, she bent all the way over again, her legs touching the couch on either side of Mrs. Hardman's legs. Instead of another smack on her bottom, the next thing she felt was Mrs. Hardman's fingernails tracing little circles on her fanny and down her thighs. Then SMACK! SMACK! Maintaining some composure, eager to please, Marie Clair said, 'Three. Four. Thank you, Ma'am.' 'That's better, Dear.' SMACK! 'Five. Thank you, Ma'am.' Thinking it wasn't so bad after all. Hearing footsteps coming into the room, Marie Clair stood up again. Turning, she saw both Dr. Hardman and Inga enter the room. Marie Clair turned a bright red and looked down in embarrassment. 'What's the trouble, Dear?' Dr. Hardman said to his wife. 'Marie Clair can't seem to follow simple directions. We'd better start her off on the right foot,' Mrs. Hardman told the others. 'What should we do?' 'This is her first day here. Perhaps Inga should demonstrate obedience,' stated Dr. Hardman. 'Marie Clair, watch Inga demonstrate the proper way to get a spanking,' agreed Mrs. Hardman. With Marie Clair watching intently, Dr. Hardman sat down in a stuffed chair. Without raising his voice, 'Come here for a spanking, Inga.' Inga walked to the chair, lowered her sheer panties to her ankles and stepping out of them, bent over with legs apart. Backing up until her legs touched the chair, she bent down to grasp her ankles and said, 'Ready, Sir.' 'Very good, Inga.' He gave her several pats, and before she could count them, he said, 'Good job, Inga. You may put your panties back on now.' 'Thank you, Sir,' she said with a curtsy and picked up her panties. Dr. Hardman rose, and he and Inga walked over to the couch. Dr. Hardman sat down beside his wife, and Inga walked around behind the couch, which was sideways in the large room.""Marie Clair, bend over again and I'll make this quick. Is her bath ready yet, Inga?" While Marie Clair flipped her skirt up and bent over again - legs apart and straight - grabbing her ankles, Inga answered. "It will be ready in a few minutes, Ma'am. Shall I go check on it?" "In a moment. I want you to watch Little Marie's next few spanks." Marie Clair could have put her palms on the floor, thinking, "I'll show them how obedient I can be!" No spanks. Waiting... then Dr. Hardman said, "Legs a little farther apart." "She is getting much better already, isn't she?" inquired Mrs. Hardman. Both were patting and tickling her bottom and thighs. Then with a firm pat, not quite a spank, she said, "OK, Little Marie, let's just go on up and take your bath now. You girls run on up. Inga, help her undress. We'll be up in a few minutes." "Yes, Ma'am," Inga said with a grin. She seemed to skip out of the room. next: THE BATH

Part 1

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11767.txt

Lord Malinov

Faster than Light

"You don't believe me?" Rick asked. "Well, no. I guess not," said Brian. "You think I'm going to lie about something like that?" "Of course you would. It depends what's at stake, but if you had some scheme in mind, you'd say just about anything, Rick." "I can't believe what I'm hearing." "Rick, I've known you, what? Twenty years? You'd sell your mom to get some skirt. Remember when Judy was coming down for the weekend and you told Liz that you were going in for surgery..." "All right, all right." Rick's grin confessed to the charge. "But I'm not shitting you this time. I saw Tommy boffing Cheryl." "Cheryl Sanders?" "One and only." "You're a liar. What's the angle?" "Look. Hey, Steph. Come over here." "Rick, Brian. What's up?" "Rick says..." "Wait," Rick interrupted. "Let me remove all doubt." "About what?" asked Stephanie. "How long have you known Cheryl?" "I don't know. Six years?" "Do you think she'd cheat on Jerry?" "Never. Not in a million years. You going after married women now, Rick?" "Nope. Not Cheryl, anyway. Jerry's a friend of mine." "Didn't stop you when Angie..." "All right," interrupted Rick. "I just have one question. Does Cheryl have a birthmark on her tit, right there?" Steph slapped Rick's jutting finger away from her breast. "Well," she said. "A lopsided heart?" "Yeah. How did you...Rick, did you...?" Stephanie's brow tensed angrily. "No," Rick said emphatically. "I went back to the house to get my other pair of sunglasses." "Time to trade the early morning pair for the mid-morning ones?" asked Brian with a smirk. "Mark sat on the one's I was wearing while I was swimming, funny boy. Do you want to hear this or not?" "Shut up, Brian," said Stephanie, as she sat down in the warm sand. "Thank you," said Rick. "I went back to the house and just as I reached for the back door, I thought I heard Cheryl say, 'Fuck me, stud.'" "Oooh," said Stephanie, leaning forward. "I stopped dead in my tracks. There was some rustling and a faint moan. Then I thought, I just saw Jerry go with Steve and Allison up to the boardwalk. So then I'm thinking that I must have been wrong, it couldn't be Cheryl." "But it was," said Steph, anticipating. "I slowly got down on my hands and knees. I started to crawl toward the window. Then Cheryl shouts, 'What a hot cock!' She was really excited about it." "I can't believe it," said Stephanie. "Cheryl? I've never heard her say anything dirty." "I couldn't believe it either. I thought one of the guys had brought some bimbo back to the house. So I crept closer and peeked in the window." "That is so twisted," said Brian with a smile. "I wish I had my camera. Now, that would have been twisted. Anyway, I peek into the back bedroom and there's Tommy sitting on the bed with his trunks at his ankles and Cheryl's kneeling in front of him, sucking his dick." "Wow," murmured Stephanie. "I wouldn't have guessed she'd do anything like that. She always blushes and runs off when we talk about stuff like that." "Well, Cheryl may not talk the talk, but I don't think it was the first time she'd sucked dick. Very enthusiastic performance. Beautiful titties, too. Bigger than I'd noticed before, and big dark nips. And a birthmark." "That's Cheryl," Stephanie confirmed, nodding. "So then," Rick said in a low voice, "she pulls down the bottom of her swimsuit and wiggles her white butt while she's going down hard on Tommy's dick. I thought I'd blow a load, just watching." "Rick," said Brian, blushing. "I don't think we need to know all the details." "Shut up," said Stephanie. "Is he big?" "Not bad," said Rick. "I mean, it was pretty long but slender. I'm no judge of meat, but Cheryl seemed to like it." "Mmm," said Stephanie, licking her lips. "I wonder if..." Manicured nails scratched a gnawing itch under her bikini. "Well, you'd better get a piece before Jerry finds out," said Rick. "Can you say 'justifiable homicide?'" "You can't tell Jerry," said Stephanie, suddenly serious. "Not me," said Rick. "But I've never seen a secret like this one kept quiet long." "You guys tell Jerry and I'll mess you up," warned Stephanie. "Capisch. So Cheryl's going to town and I'm thinking Tommy's going to blow but then Cheryl climbs on top of his rod and jams it into her pussy. She was so wet I could smell it." "Wow." "She starts riding like she was galloping to freedom. Tits bouncing, Tommy's groaning, Cheryl's just spewing obscenities; "Fuck, suck, bitch, cock, fuck, dick," and then she squeals so loud I thought the whole gang was going to come running up from the beach to save her." "What's up?" asked Liz, sitting down between Stephanie and Rick. "Rick caught Cheryl fucking Tommy." "No way," said Liz, her eyes lit up. "Sure as shit," said Rick. "Does Jerry know?" asked Liz. "Not yet," said Brian. "Not ever," said Stephanie, the menace returning to her voice. "What about Terri?" asked Liz. "Aren't she and Tommy a thing?" "Naw. She dumped him a while back." "Good for her." "I didn't know that." "Someone told me that she was..." Brian's voice trailed off. "What?" asked Stephanie. "She was seeing someone else." "Where's Jerry?" "He wanted some fries." "Here comes Cheryl." "You guys just shut up. Okay? Let me talk to her." "I want to know," said Rick. "In your dreams," said Stephanie. "You'll tell me everything, Steph, or I'm talking to Jerry." "Okay. Now just shut up." Stephanie growled at the gang in the sand and then turned to the figure descending from the sparse hill of sand dune. "Hey, Cheryl. Have you seen Tommy? I need to talk to him." "Um, no," said Cheryl, blushing. Liz and Rick fell over in an explosion of laughter. Brian got up and shading his eyes, looked toward the distant boardwalk. "I need some fries," he said, shaking his head and taking hold of his prone friend's shoulder. "C'mon Rick, let's get something to eat. "Sure," said Rick, wiping his eyes with a sand coated hand. "But you don't call me a liar anymore." "Shit," said Brian. "That's the least of your worries. Let's go."

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/13905.txt

Lord Malinov

Victorious

"You're feeling frisky tonight," Vicky said. I lifted her nightie and licked her nipple, delighting in the slow metamorphosis as the pale ring of flesh grew thick and dark under my tongue. I love Vicky's nipples. I wrapped my lips around the stiffness and sucked gently, squeezing her soft breast below. "Mmm," she moaned, putting a hand through my dark curls, pressing me close. "What's got into you?" I slipped a hand between my wife's warm thighs and teased her tangle of curls. Ed, my boss, had walked into my office that morning and dropped a huge volume of reports on my desk with a bang. "Derek," he said, "I need you to run these over to Edgewood." I looked up from my calculations and wrinkled my brow, wondering why he was bothering me, with the Sands project deadline threatening us all. "I know, I know," said Ed. "But this is critical. The board has to see these reports, pronto." "Send Al," I suggested, anxious to get back to my work before I lost my train of thought. My eyes went back to survey the penciled scribbles I had left. "You know I wouldn't bother you if I could help it. They're going to cut our funding if you don't convince the directors we're getting positive results with the IA3." "Ed," I said sternly, trying to intimidate him. "Derek, I'm not fucking around. They'll pull the plug and your paycheck will bounce. Mine, too. 1643 Fern Lane, in Edgewood. Get over there and make them understand." I put down my pencil and sighed. "All right. Just don't start bitching at me when the Sands project misses deadline." "Terry said he'll give us some more hands. Don't worry about Sands. Just make them understand. I'm counting on you." I drove out to Edgewood. I assumed I was going to the Cedermore Offices, but that was on Elm. I stopped in a gas station and checked a map. Fern was half a mile south, in the residential part of Edgewood. I raised an eyebrow and drove over to the house. Mansion, I should say. A butler answered the door. In all my life, I have never rung a doorbell and had a butler greet me. "Madame is expecting you," the old man said. I gave him a curious look. I hadn't expected that, either. I should have asked Ed more questions. I was led into a large living room, sparse in furnishings but exquisitely elegant. Windows covered almost the entire south wall of the room, absolutely bathing the room in bright sunlight. "Hell of an air conditioning bill," I said, laughing. "Yes, sir," the butler responded. "Can I get you something?" "No, thanks," I replied. A young woman, maybe thirty, wearing a scanty blue bikini top and a thin cloth wrapped around her waist, climbed the stairs onto the deck outside the window. She fumbled with a gleaming brass door handle and stepped inside. "Hello," she said, approaching me directly and extending a dainty hand. "I'm Ellen." "Derek Williams," I replied, still clutching the reports Ed had dropped on me. "Good," she said. Her breasts jiggled slightly as she spoke, but I tried not to look. "Jerry called to tell me you were coming. We're not satisfied. I'm not satisfied." "I think..." I said. "You can satisfy me?" Ellen said with a coy laugh that kindled a fire in my blood. Her eyes were dark and sultry, gleaming as they looked me over. I held up the reports. "I think..." "You think a pile of paper is going to do the trick. I don't want the numbers. I want to know what, exactly, the IA3 is performing and a serious projection of its capabilities." "It's rather technical," I said, wishing I had accepted the drink. "Ha!" said Ellen gaily, sitting down on a pillowy beige sofa. She patted the seat next to her. I sat down, cautiously, placing the reports gently on a glass coffee table. "Try me." I began explaining the aims of our research. Ellen seemed to listen, for her eyes remained fixed on me. I tried to meet her gaze, but speaking about high energy physics and looking into those seductive eyes proved more than I could manage. I moved on to describe the experiments we had performed, when a bead of sweat drifted from her throat down gently between her large, well-tanned breasts. I wondered if she wore the bikini top by the pool, for although the occasional sigh invariably shifted the small triangle of blue, the white line of a modest breast never appeared. Her nipple hardened under the fabric as I stared. I tried to restrain my panic when I realized she caught me looking. I began to discuss the results of our work, the prototypes we had undertaken, the success we had with those embodiments. Ellen leaned back on the sofa, comfortably. I paused, but she insisted I go on. The wrap fell loose, exposing the blue bottoms of her bikini between her lean, tan thighs. I swallowed dryly. The scent of a woman's arousal, the spiced musk of passion, suffused the cool air. Ellen scratched an itch at the blue fabric's edge. I started to explain my expectations of the IA3 when Ellen sat up. "All right," she said. "I understand. You've done an excellent job and I don't see any reason to continue my objections. I think you should have abandoned the diffraction experiments after the second failure - it seems to me it was obvious the gold ions weren't going to do the trick, but I'm not going to fault thoroughness. Hindsight is always easier than foresight." My jaw probably dropped. I had opposed continuing the diffractions in the lab, but I had been careful not to comment on Ed's blunder to Ellen. I felt a sudden surge of attraction, for beyond the physical beauty that this mostly naked Sylph evidenced, beneath the sultry dark eyes that seemed to mark me as prey, she gleamed sharper than any woman I had ever encountered, at least in my overly masculine field of study. Ellen smiled and gently tickled the swelling furrows of her pussy through the thin fabric of her bikini bottoms. "I'm impressed," she said, "but I'd like to be satisfied." Staring hard into my eyes, almost gleeful at my frozen shock, Ellen pulled the top of her bikini away from her breasts, exposing the deeply browned mounds, tipped with hard dark nipples, begging for my attention. I don't know what came over me. I don't know where I found the courage. I stumbled as I took to my feet. "I'm sorry," I said, nervous and aroused. I almost ran as I made my exit. As I drove back to the office, I worried. I knew I couldn't prove anything about the episode, and I didn't know if Ellen would cut our funding. Ed greeted me at the door. "Excellent work, Derek," he said, pounding me on the back. "I knew I could count on you. Terry said the motion has been dropped and we'll get paid." I nearly collapsed when I heard the news. Dread had been torturing me mercilessly for twenty minutes. "He also said you left the reports at the director's." "Send Al for them," I said, making my way back to my office and closing the door. Coming home, the first glimpse of Vicky and the kids sent shivers of delight through me. I love her in so many ways. All through the evening, I kissed and pawed my beauty. I had never been more glad to be home. "You," I said, letting her nipple loose from my lips. "You excite me." I moved over her, kissed her cherry lips. My stiff prick teased her thighs as they spread. I plunged myself into her warm cunt and felt tears roll down my cheeks. I had faced temptation, and I had won.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/8773.txt

John Smith

Troublemaker

"C'mon Shelly, not pigtails, I'll get punched out." Oh, she was hot today, walking out of our bedroom like she was on a runway. White cotton top and skirt, with a bare midriff. "Columbia" in blue letters across her chest: we'd be playing with coed snatch, boys. The skirt was short enough to show off her long dancer legs. White, out-of-the-box sneakers completed the overall look of some spoiled rich girl, alone in the big city, far away from the daddy that paid for it all. Delights underneath. She turned around and bent over slowly. Her skirt was short enough that just the tiniest, most innocent bend started to reveal her panties. You couldn't miss them. Electric blue panties jumped out from beneath the white skirt. Lace panties, and as she continued to bend, she revealed a vine of small lace kisses all over her tight, firm ass. My wife was hot, very hot. I felt like forgetting our outing, doing her right there on the hardwood floor. But I knew from long experience with her that things would be better if we had a little fun first. I got hard imagining doing her later, the way her voice teases me while I'm inside her pussy, the teasing little whispers about the people we toy with, and the trouble she causes. I just had a bad feeling looking at the pigtails. I feel like we're on safer ground with the total slut look. This was too ambivalent; a guy concentrating on her face might see her as too young and innocent. Things get out of hand then. "I know what guys are like, honey, and it's dangerous to move off the slut look. Why don't you let your hair down, and trade in the sneakers for some high pumps..." Not to mention that this is the look that I like. "...And throw on some cheap jewelry, too." "Think I don't know what guys are like, how to keep them under control?" Foolish of me, I had to admit she's on her home field here. Shelly is just 20, but she's probably seen the eyes of a hundred men as they climaxed inside her. She knows how we're put together deep inside, and can play to either our balls or our hearts. A look from her eyes and a movement of her lips can make me feel like a rabid dog; Just a downward glance, a tear, and a quiver in those same lips turns another switch inside me - now nothing matters but fixing whatever is causing her unhappiness. "C'mon, I want to try this look," batting her little doe eyes. "Besides, those big bad men will have all this to look at," running her hands sensuously up along her thighs, lifting her skirt slightly. My heart jumped. Who the fuck would be looking at her hair? The New York City subway is our playground. Occasionally we do other things, like flashing in the car or a blowjob behind a museum exhibit. Those are fun, but we've found that nothing gets us off like some subway action. We have a captive audience during the forty-minute ride from Queens to lower Manhattan. We have plenty of time to put on our own little drama, and protected by anonymity, men in the crowd let themselves get into it. I walk her to the station, enjoying the way the men in the streets stare at her. When we descend into the subway, we separate, but stay within sight of each other. While we're waiting on the platform, I scope out the crowd. I get my first stirrings by watching men watch her. The white cotton outfit makes her stand out like an angel from the dirt and grime. I see the glances across the top of folded newspapers, and try to guess who'll get lucky today. You never know. The next train comes. I get into the same car as she does. It's rush hour, so all of the seats are taken, but it's still early enough to get your choice of standing spots. Standing is what we want. I stay near the center of the car and watch her find her place near the forward end. There are two seats with their backs to the side wall between the foremost platform door and the door leading to the next car. An old woman in her sixties is sitting in the seat closest to the door, and a boy of about 13 is sitting next to her. Shelly takes her position in front of the old woman. Perfect. After a few stops, the train gets more full. I move towards Shelly and take my position within a few feet of her, near the door next to the old lady. I wasn't alone. Funny, once Shelly took her place, the center of gravity started shifting in the car. For some reason, men seemed drawn to our end of the car, I found it amusing to watch them enter, find a place, look around, spot Shelly, and find this urge to move. Pervert that I am, I root some men forward with my mind, men with that real hungry look that makes for hot action. Today would be good. A tall, lean black guy in his mid-twenties takes up position on Shelly's right, in front of the sitting boy. He was in his early 20's, well built, wearing a Chicago Bulls T-Shirt. Even though Shelly wasn't looking, and appeared disinterested, I knew she liked Bulls. I know her type. And Bulls certainly liked her - I had watched him get on all the way at the other end of the car. Once he saw Shelly, his eyes stayed on her, and he started this way. Now it was fairly crowded. Two business types are behind Shelly. Old guys, I had the feeling that this was the closest they've been to top-shelf pussy in weeks. One guy is in his forties, thin with glasses and a laptop computer. The other guy is a bit older and heavier, thick and stocky, with a grey beard. With the enclosing crowd, we were all pushed closer together, one of the businessmen, the computer guy, reaches a hairy arm above Shelly's bare shoulder to grab the hanging strap above her. As the train rocked, she slowly moved towards him, so that her pigtails and neck brushed his arm ever so slightly. The touch that maddens. We're packed tightly now: myself, Shelly, Bulls, and the two businessmen behind her. I watch Shelly as she starts to slowly rub her shoulder into the arm that's hanging over her. I'm facing her, and I can see both her and his face behind her. He's not moving his arm; he's enjoying the slight contact with such a hot young coed. When she has his full attention, she works on the others. There's a subway map on the wall above the old lady's face. She leans forward and studies it, arching her back, hanging lower on the strap above. The loose cotton top hangs out slightly, exposing more of her dark, shapely belly. The old lady doesn't seem to care, but the 13-year-old boy next to her certainly does. The old woman sitting next to him must be the boy's grandmother - she's on his case about school, something about how important grades are, and how disappointed she is in him. He's a typical boy, just tuning Grandma out. Junior slouches low in the chair, hands in the pockets of his shorts, and his eyes almost hidden beneath long blond hair. That is, hidden until Shelly started hanging forwards, because from his low vantage point on the seat, he's looking upward at Shelly's exposed chest. His eyes locked onto to her. Things are ready now.The train is fully loaded. We're at the last local stop in Queens, about to begin the first of a few long express runs. It's time to get some action going. The doors close behind me, and when the train moves into the express tunnel, I make my move. While Shelly is leaning towards the map over Grandma's head, I move slightly behind her, and so the total effect is to bring her closer to the door. I slide my arm down her back onto her ass and start caressing it, kneading it through the soft cotton. Now every man in the car, particularly Bulls and the two businessmen, have had their attention riveted to her body since they got on the train, so they see what's going on. Their eyes light up. Even Junior realizes what's happening. For a moment, Shelly stays rigid as I fondle her ass. She stops moving and hangs still in front of Grandma and Junior. She starts to act... annoyed. This is where it takes off. She sighs, as if she's pissed off, sick and tired of this, she can't stand when some filthy pig paws and gropes her on the subways. Never mind she's dressed to attract just this sort of hassle. The men see me, and they notice her reaction. Bulls isn't looking at her ass anymore, he's looking at her face. And at mine. On the edge, and I can see the calculation in his eyes: He's already figured he can kick my ass, stand up for the little lady, and maybe have a few months' worth of grateful young pussy. I get a little shiver, since men get protective around some girls. But he's back looking at her, all of her, measures her cleavage and short skirt and realizes just how much flesh she's offering. The little miss is a little tease. I can see it in his eyes. Fuckin' bitch is a whore! So Bulls reached his hand down and grabbed her ass too, his big black hand joining the fun. I let go, and he slowly moved his hand down her thigh and drew the back of her thin skirt up, exposing her blue lace panties and butt flesh for all to see. I glanced at Shelly's face, and while she grew visibly more upset at such a clear outrage, I could see the hazy look of arousal in her eyes. This was everything she wanted. She loved being the center of bad attention, the bad girl teasing men to do bad things. And everyone was looking! The two businessmen stared slack-jawed, imagining their hands on her and the way those lovely cheeks must feel. Comparing the shape and texture of those cheeks against what they had at home. Grandma stopped lecturing Junior; suddenly, she realized what was going on, and right in front of her. The nerve! All she saw was the big black man, and a young girl who was upset. She wasn't a man, so while she noticed the young coed still in pigtails, she missed the other signals Shelly was giving off. The "C'mon and fuck me!" signals. Grandma saw just a young girl only a few years older than Junior being assaulted. She wasn't going to stand for this, not as a civilized woman on her train. "Stop that! Leave that girl alone!" She started to get up as she said this and confront Bulls directly. Bulls didn't let her get all the way up. He leaned over and got right in the old lady's face: "Mind your fuckin' business, you old cunt," spitting the words at her through bared teeth. She recoiled as if she were shot, shocked. The screws were tightening. As Bulls resumed his fondling, now free from any interference, Shelly started acting more annoyed. But I knew she was excited; we'd done things like this many times in the past, and I knew that this was the part she loved. "I love it when I bring their inner rapist out, when men start acting like wild dogs." She started to bring her hands down off the strap, and would "try" to fight him off. That was my cue. I grabbed one of the hands that were now behind her. Just before it reached Bulls' hand, I took it by the wrist and turned her arm up into her back. Gently, but that's not the way it looked - everyone else saw her turn rigid with pain, arching backwards as I pushed her chest hard against the subway door. She was pinned, trapped and helpless. I looked across her at Bulls and said, "I'll hold her." I listened closely to her breathing; short, quick breaths that sounded to everyone else like terror. But I knew she was hot inside. The air in the car was charged now. I held Shelly against the door, held her tight while Bulls started fondling her again, reaching his fingertips beneath her panties, and feeling the delight of her soft cheeks. Oh, Shelly has a nice ass, and here it was. Exposed for all to see on a crowded subway. This was her dream, a secret wish she told me about many times, and here we made it happen. This was just inches across from Grandma's face; She was still staring lifeless at the event, seemingly unable to believe what was happening, but she wasn't looking away. And Junior! Junior was bolt upright, leaning forward so he could leer at Shelly's ass without Grandma blocking the view. The 13-year-old's face was flushed red. Like Bulls, he had a growing mound in his shorts too - the kid had a rocket in his pocket. The train moved quickly on its express run, and even at the next stop, the doors on this side wouldn't open. We planned it that way, so there would be plenty of time. Bulls pulled the waistband of his shorts down and exposed his huge black cock. I swear I could hear an audible gasp as we all realized what was going to happen. I held her hand tightly against her lower back. Bulls took one hand off her ass and grabbed one of her pigtails. He kept the other down there, as he moved against Shelly's back. He looked at me with fire in his eyes and said "Hold the bitch tight!" Shelly heard that and she just.... Melted. Christ, this was hot, the prospect of this big man reaming her ass right here and now had my dick stiff. Shelly, Bulls and I were pressed close; I could feel his hot breath as he reacted to the feel of her buttery assflesh on the tip of his dick. I couldn't see what was going on down there, whether he was inside her or not, but I could see the reaction on the men near us. Like a herd sensing a storm in the air. Some were sizing us up like Bulls measured me, and I could see the same measurement of Shelly; was she worth a beating? Or, like scavengers, just hang back and enjoy the spoils. It wasn't even close - the sight of her exposed ass there for the taking overwhelmed all other feelings. They'd be in there after us; they were waiting like a pack of wolves. "Don't move, cunt!" I said, loud enough for everyone to hear. "You fuckin' cockteaser, here it comes!" Junior heard every word. His eyes had a dreamlike look as he watched the big black man enjoy a piece of ass. "Please stop, someone help me!" Shelly said, gulping air like she was drowning. Fat chance, no one would try to help. Men watched, half sick, half thrilled, their animal juices reacting to the primitive scene. And through the crowd of men I could even see a woman or two, sheepish almost hiding the crowd, too weak to protest, too fearful of the men in the car turning on her. My face was too close to Shelly's face, and to Bull's face, to see what was happening down there. Later on, Shelly told me. That night, while I was rock hard inside her, she told me what it felt like. He didn't fuck her in the ass - he just slid her lace panties down, and pushed his dick into the crevices and creases between her ass and thighs. She felt his head slide through her pelvis along the underside of her hairy cunt! "Tell me more, honey," as I started that night to rock slowly inside her pussy. She whispered and grew wetter as she told me. "All I could feel was this big thing pushing itself between my legs. I knew your face was behind me, and I loved the sound of your voice as you called me a cunt. I looked down at the old lady and at the little boy sitting next to her. He just kept looking at my ass, at what was happening down here. Such an intense look, so sexual, the way he watched Bulls pushing into me. Right next to Junior's face, I could see an old man rubbing secretly in his pants pocket. I knew the boy would never forget this, that the sight of me being forcibly taken before all these men was making a deep imprint on his soul. He'll think of me whenever a girl makes him hard." "Oh, Shelly, you bitch, you cunt!" Like little love bites in her ear, I feel like my cock will explode. "The boy watched me so intently, and every few seconds he'd look up from my ass and we'd lock eyes. We were staring at each other when Bulls came. You see, the boy knew in his gut that I liked it, he knew I really didn't want help. He watched me so closely. He saw the ripple of pleasure that spread across my face when Bulls emptied himself all over the inside front of my skirt." All the while she was telling me this, I was fucking her wet pussy. God, I'm so lucky having a hot little slut like this for a wife.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/10642.txt

Lord Malinov

One of Those Nights

"Excuse me for a minute," Grant said, touching Janet's arm and bending close. "There's someone I need to talk to." "Sure," said Janet gaily, sending him off with a provocative smile. "I'll catch up with you later." Watching his broad green back weave through the crowd, she nodded. "Ooh, he is just so fine," she said softly, shivering slightly. "Hey, Janet," said Rob, stepping into the empty space beside her. "Hi, Rob," she said, still following Grant's progress across the room. "Great party," he said, smiling. "Yeah," said Janet, finally giving up her quarry as lost and turning to face Rob. "Shelley always has great parties." "I was hoping that Deidre would be here. You haven't seen her, have you?" Rob asked, a sorry look in his eyes. Janet leaned against the wall and turned her head slightly. "I think Deedee's in Florida," she said. "Shelley said her family always flies down for the holidays." "Oh," said Rob. He shook his empty drink, rattling the ice cubes and lifted the glass to drain a few drops. "Hey," said Janet, smiling suddenly at the morose young man, "have you met my roommate?" "I don't think so," answered Rob. "You should," said Janet. "She's a quiet girl, but really great. I had to drag her downstairs. Parties aren't really her thing, but I think she'd forgive me if I introduced her to someone like you." "Okay," said Rob, shaking his glass. "I don't mind." "She's really smart," said Janet. "I'll bet you two would have loads in common. Come with me." Taking hold of Rob's hand, Janet began to lead him through the crowd in the living room, back toward the kitchen.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/8060.txt

kellis

Hidden Journal: The Blackmailer

"Is that a full bladder or are you glad to be here?" She grinned over her shoulder at me, her hand behind her holding my erection. That hand was my last recollection before falling asleep and my first on awakening. The light was dim, early morning daylight seeping through her blinds, but enough to register her twinkling eyes. "Eunice, how do you manage that?" "You don't think it's a reasonable question?" "The answer is <both>. I mean, how did you know when I would awake?" Her body rotated to face me. She is like a snake in such matters, slithering around in the bed with minimum touches of feet and free arm. She did not relinquish her hold on me as her face swung near. Her breath was wake-up rancid but very familiar after a summer of breathing it. I kissed her. Her tongue answered mine. I felt her free hand join the first. She withdrew her tongue and said, "What makes you think I predicted your awakening?" "You must have. You were already holding my dick." She chuckled. "The obvious deduction is that I woke you by grasping it." "Yes, of course." "Of course <not>!" "I thought you just said --" "I said it was the obvious deduction. This is the first full night you've spent with me. The fact is, my dear man, I've had possession of your sweet equipment all night long." "Do you have to call it that?" "It <is> sweet!" "I understand that's a female euphemism for 'small'!" "Sometimes. In this case it stands for 'cute' and 'precious.' I believe I've fallen in love with your foreskin. I love to do this" -- I felt her thumb on top of the glans while the other hand drew my skin over it -- "especially with the tongue." "Careful with that nail!" "Oh, Harry, you <know> I'll be careful! Besides, this nail is the one I broke last week." "I'm sorry. It's just that your nails are so wickedly female!" "I do try." "Didn't you say, 'all night long?' Eunice, are you claiming you never went to sleep?" "Oh, I slept. But if there's a penis in the bed with me, I tend to claim it. As a child I slept between my two uncles for years. They encouraged me to play with my bedtime toys" "Whatever you found between their legs?" "Exactly." I thought about it. "That went on for a good while?" "From five to sixteen, about eleven years." "It's hard to imagine how that must have been. Did they never leave you alone?" "Not very often. I know what you mean. I've talked to many other women about their childhood. The characteristic they most often report in common is <loneliness>. I was never lonely. My uncles were always nearby and always willing to hold me. They were well educated men. They tutored me at home." "How in the world did they get custody of you?" "My mother sold me to them." "Wh-what?" "Cheaply, too. I have never forgiven her for that." "For the act or the price?" "The price. She accepted a mere $300. She was a call girl when times were hard. I can understand her relief. Still, I was a beautiful child. My uncles made photographs of me when they bought me. They admit they would have paid twice that." "How old were you?" "When they bought me? Four." "Do you remember your mother?" "No. I remember the boarding school where she had consigned me." "How did they arrange the transaction?" "That was in 1934, in the depths of the Depression. Mama was behind on her bill. I'm sure the school was glad to see the last of me. My uncles probably bribed the director, too." "They were wealthy?" "Moderately, from my grandfather." "See here, Eunice, apparently none of those men was actually related to you." "'Apparently' is the correct word. But they adopted me, all very legal. And they hired a housekeeper to see that I had feminine exposure." "Didn't the housekeeper object to you sleeping with them?" "Oh, she was very special and in no position to object even if she'd been so inclined. She'd been fired by her previous employer for seducing his wife. She was allowed to hire a maid of the same persuasion to sleep with her. I slept with them sometimes, mainly when the uncles had guests who spent the night. When I did, I missed my dangling play toys." "Were you jealous of the guests who spent the night?" "Not really. They were all men, Harry." "Men!" "The uncles were homosexual. They had no use for women." "My god! Then why did they buy <you>?" "I was hardly a woman at the time! But I haven't yet told you a key fact. They were not my uncles. They were actually my half-brothers." "Aha! Your grandfather!" "Right. My mother had been his mistress. Apparently she'd been faithful enough that she had no trouble convincing him of his responsibility. I never heard the details, but she had a terrible row with him. He was in his late eighties, not a good time to indulge in rages. He had a stroke and dropped dead. There she was with a swollen belly and no enforceable claim on the estate. "But either he told his sons or they overheard some of the argument. They knew the truth. They didn't care for Mama or any other woman, but they conceived a duty to rescue their half-sister. Mama was a cold-blooded tart, I gather, rather as I am, and made a deal with them. She vanished and the school released me to my 'newly discovered' uncles. They came for me in a motorcar, bearing a baby doll and a box of candy. I left happily with them and never regretted it." "Interesting. So by seventeen you were too much woman for them?" "Exactly. Their misogyny was related to the menstrual flow. The housekeeper had warned me of it -- presumably they'd said as much to her, which is rather strange behavior itself -- so I was able to hide it for a couple years. Soon or later it had to happen, though, and in my sixteenth year I bled in their bed. Thereafter I slept alone or with the women while trying to seduce the gardener. They married me off before I got pregnant and embarrassed them, or so they said." "Married you off!" "To a friend of theirs, a man who was happy with any gender. Rather like my nephew. Apparently such attitudes run in that family." "Was it a major change for you?" "Not at first. You won't believe this. At seventeen, though I had taken male emissions into my mouth and rectum at least weekly since age four and lost my maidenhead at the same age, my vagina had been inseminated hardly at all. The uncles were very careful about that. And so was my new husband until my Fallopian tubes were tied." "He had your tubes tied?" "Just before my eighteenth birthday. Six weeks later, when I was healed, he put me out at rent." "Eunice, I --" "Don't think I'm complaining. I cannot imagine the life of a typical wife, restricted to one man except for such fleeting interludes as she can steal! Bernard made the arrangements. He was careful to select clean and careful customers, mannerly for the most part, though manners in a rich man are never reliable. For fifteen years I had a lovely, lovely time. Those picture albums only touch on it. I've been everywhere and met interesting, powerful people. I've been around the world twice. Ah, Harry! That is the worst of getting old, having to accept such narrow horizons after knowing no limit." "You're hardly an old woman, Eunice. 42, did you say?" "Ah, but consider this face in front of you, that you are willing to smile upon. Men can be so niggardly with their smiles! I love you for your generosity, Harry! Even makeup won't hide these veins. I mean, it will, of course, but then the makeup looks worse than the veins. I am ashamed to show my face, except in places where it's unremarkable, such as a school room." "Eunice, <I> would not be ashamed to escort you anywhere!" "Very gallant, Harry! And thank you. Wish I could reward you for that declaration, but I believe we've already done everything that doesn't hurt." I had to chuckle. "Including a few I never imagined." "You could introduce me as your aunt, I suppose."My very loving aunt, perhaps. I'd claim you as my mistress, except that isn't done." "If it's the truth you want, Harry, not your mistress: your fist." "You've put my fist out of work this summer." "Entirely? I'd like to believe that." "Since our first intimate encounter," I assured her, "I've not masturbated even once. I don't think I've even had a wet dream since the first night after it." "You had a wet dream after our first encounter?" "Sorry. It was after you introduced me to your <furo>." "Really? I thought I dried you out thoroughly on that occasion." "Well, you did. But you also stimulated my imagination powerfully." "No masturbation and no wet dream," she mused. "I note another change in you, Harry." "Which is?" "In June you would have said, 'Since our first fuck I've not jerked off even once,' or something equivalent." "I admit your good opinion has become important to me. By the way, what happened to David?" "David?" "I meant to tell you: I saw him jump to your balcony right after I left you that morning." "Did you!" "Yes. I wondered if you got his juice." She regarded me thoughtfully. After a while, she said, "He had lied to his mother. She thought he was spending the night with a boyfriend." "So he spent it with you, did he? You were a busy tart, considering what you did that morning and what was waiting the next day." "No, Harry. He left after an hour or so. Young boys are funny that way. They have no well of experience to suggest alternatives. Their minds flit like butterflies." "Then you did get his juice!" "Too soon, I guess. I haven't seen him since. I haven't seen any of them since. Either they've left town or the young girls are occupying them." "Not even Chip?" "Chip. Yes. Chip was here this week." "Was he! I'm surprised I left you the opportunity." "Anymore you're a night visitor, Harry." "A rather faithful night visitor!" "I don't believe I've thanked you." "Thanked me!" I kissed her again. "I'm grateful to <you>! This has been a very pleasant summer." "Yes, it has. I hate for it to end." I withdrew my arms from around her. "Excuse me, my dear. You were right about the bladder." She followed me into the bathroom, hitched herself up onto the sink and used it as I used the john. Despite her late start, she finished first and ran water into the sink as I flushed the john. She wet her hands in the warm water, scrubbed herself then me, as she has done before. No soap, just water. She once claimed she'd rather taste piss than soap. She patted herself dry with a towel but stooped and mouthed me instead. I asked her, "Can you guess what we've done that pleased me most?" "Mmmfh?" she snorted, looking up with twinkling eyes. "You'd probably say the first time in the <furo>. And that was fascinating, but what pleased me most was trotting around naked in the moonlight with you hanging on my hips. That was a wonderful idea!" She released me long enough to remind me, "You hadn't taken ten steps before you ejaculated." "So we dripped! I kept going didn't I? I do love your giggle, Eunice. And then you started to come." Her mouth backed off again, "You <dropped> me, you devil, and then fell on top of me!" "I know. I couldn't help it I was laughing so hard. I'll never forget old man Trane, hollering out his window for somebody to shoot that cat. I didn't actually <drop> you. I just let you down on your back." "At least you didn't stop thrusting." She was chuckling with me, looking up with twinkling eyes, her tongue swiping the head of my dick. "It's been great fun, Eunice." I took her arm and urged her up. "What's your rush? We've got all weekend, you know. Let's throw on some jeans and go eat breakfast. That new croissant joint serves eggs benedict." Daisy, of course, is out of town. Again. That's two weekends in a row. If it weren't for Eunice, I'd be getting on toward desperate. Daisy returns Wednesday, if she hews to her schedule, and we'll have the next weekend together. The cheese gets binding just after that. <I> am due to fly out of the country on Monday, the fourth, and be gone for up to <two months>! If my assignment were Europe or even the Far East, it wouldn't be so bad. Willing pussy is available in both areas. In the East, it's even cheap. But where I'm going is Iran, a country with a medieval government -- a king who actually rules! -- and the death penalty for adulterous women. The signals analysis program is ready for Beta Test, which is the cause of my travel. I am to supervise its installation in a secret Air Force listening post near the Russian border: interesting work with the potential of a huge bonus if it passes all tests before the deadline. Over breakfast I told Eunice about the trip, leaving out the political and technical parts. Her response was not the sympathy I expected. "Two months!" she breathed, her face sagging. "At least you'll have your boys," I pointed out. "<Boys>!" I was surprised by her contempt. It must've showed. Her eyes fell. She chuckled bitterly. "Excuse me, Harry. Who is it that believes in the turning wheel of life? The Buddhists? The Hindus?" "The Buddhists, I think." "Well, mine has turned half way around. When I was about your age I was paramour to the master of a girls' boarding school. Until I came along, he had been playing with his charges. Of course I jumped at a chance to travel. While I was gone, they arrested him for statutory rape." "What happened to him?" "Mandatory twenty years. I'm sure he's out on parole now, but his life is ruined. Fortunately the circumstances are not exactly parallel. A woman with boys runs less risk than a man with girls." "How long have you been playing with the kids here?" "Oh, a couple years." "How do you recruit them?" She nodded. "That's the problem. I encourage the ones I fancy, but the problem is that they won't keep it secret. No matter how I bind them, they find it necessary to brag. So I go through a shake down period in September and October, hoping to end up with two or three reliable disciples, lucky if I can keep it below half a dozen." I shook my head. "Eunice, it's too risky. Word will spread. I remember only too well." "At least you don't condemn me. Thank you for that, Harry." "I agree with your jury: the lucky little shits!" She cocked an eyebrow. "You had access to an older woman?" "No. The incident I remember involved a classmate, about fourteen, and I didn't hear about it until it was all over. I cursed my luck at the time, you may be sure." "Tell me." "Apparently a girl in the eighth grade was literally consumed by the pleasure of her first sexual experiences. One afternoon she took off her clothes, lay down on the janitor's mattress in the school basement and accepted the attention of nearly 100 boys, one after the other, until midnight. At least that many more were lined up for her when somebody tipped her family and her father broke it up. The word had spread like wildfire through the school." "What happened to her?" "I heard she went to the hospital. Of course, nobody would tell a kid anything. She never came back to that school. I mention it only to show how word of such things gets around among the kids." "How did <you> miss her?" "Stuck at home, sick with the flu, naturally." "And of course nothing was said to the boys." "I think a minister talked to the few they could identify. The school took no official notice of it." "You felt that you missed a great opportunity, did you?" "Certainly! At fourteen, opportunities for sexual release occur seldom to never. At least that's how it was then. I gather the pill is beginning to make a difference." "Yes, it is." Her voice was sour. "Some parents are putting girls on it at thirteen. They'll be on it until their twenties, despite the doctors' warnings." "Not good to take it so long?" "So I'm told. Of course, I've yet to take the first." I studied her. "How concerned are you about your boys?" "I admit to a bit of worry." I leaned back in my chair. "You can do several things." "Such as?" "You're a substitute teacher, right? Tell them you'll no longer take assignments at Christy High. Or tell them you're taking a leave of absence. Or just quit. The only reason you work is to find your boys, isn't it?" "They're a powerful reason, Harry. I can't depend on the luck of a neighbor who needs me as ..." Her voice trailed off. I said, "As I do?" Her eyes flicked across mine. She took a deep breath. "All right," I continued. "You said it yourself: maybe your regulars will find other companions." "Not Chip!" "Are you sure? I thought he did all right with ... what was her name? -- Cindy." "Cindy and her sisters under the skin can do better than Chip, and they know it." "What's the problem with Chip anyway?" "Mainly I think he commands no respect. Only younger boys will follow him. He has arrived several times with boys too young to catch the balcony." "So he uses the bank-to-balcony route, too?" "Yes." I chuckled. "An interesting concept in access barriers." "Access to <me>!" "That's what I mean. What does he do: knock on your sliding door?" "Yes." I shrugged. "Don't let him in. I'll put a bar across it." Again she took a deep breath. "That might help in some cases. David forced his way into my apartment once. But it's too late for Chip." I stared at her. "Is he blackmailing you, Eunice?" "I'm afraid so." "He's only a kid."Who'll take his word --" "He has a Polaroid of him and me." "In -- What's that Italian phrase?" "In flagrante delicto. Exactly. David took it on the Graflex. It's very sharp. My veined face is unmistakable. So is what we're doing." "You have a copy?" "No, but I've seen it in his possession." I leaned forward, chin on fists. "Have you tried to buy it from him?" "I made him an offer, yes." "What did he say?" "He agreed." She sighed. "I'll tell you the rest of it. When he showed me the picture, I, the trusting ninny, extended the money. He simply snatched it from my hand and ran away, keeping the picture." "Did he!" I shook my head. "How much?" "$100." "Recently?" "In early July. Every week or so he demands more money. He no longer bothers to show the picture." "How much has he gotten?" "$500 altogether. I'm terribly afraid he'll attract adult attention with so much money." "Well you should be. So now his interest is only money, is it?" "Oh, no. One curious note: he demands fellatio! In the past month I've tasted almost as much of his ejaculate as yours." "So he has learned to squirt?" "Yes. He claims his first time was in my mouth. I hope it's true. If I could be sure of that, I'd forgive him everything." I had to laugh. "Eunice, you're more than a little weird, you know." "Don't criticize me, Harry. I'm putty around an erect penis. Haven't you noticed?" "I never tried to mold your putty -- not forcibly, at least." "How about your initial phone call? I'll never forget it: 'What the hell, Mrs. Hollowell?'" "Ah... You didn't construe that as blackmail, did you?" "Didn't I?" "Jesus Christ, Eunice! Do you claim that I've been extorting sex from you the past couple of months?" She extended a hand to clasp mine. "Easy, Harry. Certainly not. If anyone has taken unfair advantage between us, it is I." I shook my head. "How do you figure that?" "I know about the pressures young men feel. I knew if I could ever get you to have me once, you'd come back. We got off to such an unfortunate start over those clogged drains that I despaired of succeeding. When you called me after spying on the children, I was thrilled. My heart rate doubled, Harry." I had to grin. "You were cool as a cucumber, Eunice." "I was taught to appear so when placing a large bet. Apparently I wasn't too cool for you!" "Definitely not too cool!" She smiled contentedly. "Thank you. Everything is more difficult as one ages. A woman too pantingly eager would drive you away and one too reserved and unresponsive would fail to attract. The knife edge is between those extremes." I regarded her with interest. "Most women seem to balance there easily." "Because of their youth!" she exclaimed bitterly. "If a young woman is cold men pursue her as a challenge, if hot she is irresistible. Without youth, however..." She grinned brightly. "But you don't want to hear about an old woman's tactics." Her hand stroked mine again. "Harry, this is the first time you've taken me out. Have you noticed people studying us? They wonder if I'm your mother." It was Saturday morning and the restaurant was filling gradually. The clash of dinnerware and buzz of conversation gave us privacy although the nearer tables were mostly occupied. I had noted a few curious glances but no more than you'd expect. "You're overly sensitive, Eunice. For that matter, you are my mother -- surrogate, at least. You take care of me in some ways far better than my real mother ever did." She smiled. "On occasion you've called me 'Mom.'" I smiled back. "I was intrigued by your plan for raising a son. If I were yours, would I have a 22 inch dick?" "Not unless you had a lot of older sisters. One woman cannot attend a boy that well, no matter how she tries -- though I certainly would have tried." "You weren't pulling my leg about that Cuban superman?" "You do know he existed, don't you?" "Is he still alive?" "Well, I don't know. Probably not. I'd guess that having a penis longer than Castro's is a capital crime in today's Cuba." I laughed. "Castro's specialty is balls!... You'd've had me when you were sixteen, I believe you said, in which case one of the queer uncles would've likely been my father. A different life indeed!" She shook her head. "I seriously doubt you'd have become nearly such a caring and tender man, Harry." "Tender? Huh! Is that a compliment?" Her eyes were level. "I meant it so." "But I'd have at least a twelve inch dick?" "At least." She smiled again. On the ride back I observed, "Your arrangement with Chip is unstable, you know." She sighed. "Don't I know it!" "It needs to be brought to a head." "Short of leaving the state? I can't bring myself to do that, Harry." I grinned at her. "I don't want you to leave, either! I think we can find a better solution." "You'll help me?" "Yes, I will." "Why, Harry?" "Because a threat to you is also one to me -- to my comfort, certainly, and the pleasure I take in your company. You're important to me, Eunice." I grunted. "Sure hope that speech doesn't scare you." Her voice was low. "I'm glad you need me a little, Harry." I cleared my throat. "In regard to Chip... When do you expect him again?" "Anytime. He was last here on Monday. He knows he's not supposed to show on weekends, when all the neighbors are home and watching, so I actually expect him this coming Monday. This summer he typically arrives about ten in the morning." "All right. Could you hold him at your door -- tell him you have to get rid of a visitor -- long enough for me to sneak over in the front, if he comes when I'm not there?" "Yes, if he comes when you're not at work." "Well, then, here's what I'm thinking..." Went out again this afternoon and bought a few special items designed to give Chip a warm welcome. If he returns. Eunice is confident we'll see him Monday morning, though she admits he can arrive any time. He even showed up once on a Sunday. I spent most of today with her. Aside from the trip to the shopping center this afternoon, I've been 24 hours in her company. She is indeed obsessed with dick! Her hand, mouth or rectum enclosed it for most of my visit, if you believe her claim of holding on to it in her sleep. We visited the furo twice and she washed it four or five times beyond that. It's flaccid now and comfortable but I'm sure if it should rise it would be sore. Guess I'll read some more Anderson tomorrow and give it a rest. She's sucked a thousand dicks but never learned to ease off at the climax! Judging from Daisy's example, it's not the quantity, it's the attention paid. Practice is important but only with the right plays. Too much of a good thing is too much, though as I think I've said before, lechery is hard to cloy. Eunice is the best thing that's happened to me this summer, but I wonder how long it can go on without something coming loose. <Monday, August 28, 1972> "Harry, there he is, coming down the bank!" I looked at my wristwatch: 09:54. "On time," I observed, grabbing the bag and slipping behind the drapes drawn back from Eunice's sliding glass doors. A last glance at her mottled face noted fear and worry. She begged, "You won't hurt him, will you? Please tell me one more time you won't hurt him!" "A few bruises, maybe, on wrists and ankles." "But no cuts or broken bones, please, Harry?" "No cuts or broken bones. We've already discussed this, Eunice." She took a deep breath. "Please don't forget it. He's on the balcony." I had called my boss and told him I needed a day or two to settle certain personal business before leaving the country -- no more than the truth. He wanted to trade me this coming Saturday and maybe Sunday, too, until I made him admit he had nothing for me to do anyway. I was doubly glad of the boy's appearance. Now I wouldn't have to argue for Tuesday. A rapid tattoo of knuckles rattled the glass door. Its weather stripping probably needs replacement. I watched Eunice approach, my eye pressed to a carefully adjusted rift between the two pieces of drapery. She took a deep breath and opened the door an inch. "Hello, Chip," she said with just the right amount of exasperation. His hand must have darted into the gap. The door slid back forcefully enough to thump against its stop. The boy shoved into the room, pushing the woman back with his body. "Quick!" he exclaimed, spinning about as soon as he was inside. "Billy saw me duck through the hedge." He slammed the door closed while I marveled at the distinct deepening of his voice since I heard it three months ago. He added, "Where's the cord for these drapes?" In an inspired bit of misdirection, Eunice moved to his left despite knowing that the pull cords were located on the right -- that is, behind me! He turned to follow her, having already departed from our script of likely behavior. In seconds he would expose me. Waiting any longer would void our whole plan. Saturday afternoon I had bought a beach bag made of heavy black cotton impervious to light but not air, closed by a drawstring in metal eyelets. I raised it high, holding its mouth wide by wrists passed through the string on either side, and pushed myself through the opening in the drapes. He doubtlessly caught the unexpected motion in the corner of his eye and started to turn, but his reflex was too slow. The bag snapped down over his head.I pulled the drawstring loops, tightening the bag under his chin, and tied them behind his head in a quick overhand. By this time, his hands were approaching his neck, as expected. I simply caught his wrists in my hands, turned palms out, and using all my superior strength, forced them around, down, and behind his back. Eunice had withdrawn the first handcuffs from the pocket of her housecoat. She closed them easily around his wrists while I took one step partly around him. I spun him to the side, away from the glass door, and with a shove, tripped him over my extended leg. Down he went, saved from smashing his nose into the floor by my arm under his shoulders. Next, I aligned his legs so that Eunice could apply the second handcuffs to his ankles. Ironically, both sets of handcuffs were plastic, bought Saturday in a toy store, released by pressing a button on the hasp. If you don't know the button is there, however, and can't see to find it for yourself, they are just as effective as the equipment hanging from a cop's belt. The final step remained. I forced the two sets of handcuffs together behind his back so that the short chains overlapped. I had replaced the flimsy plastic chains with heavy wire chains, closed on the shanks with pliers. A few turns of bailing wire, again produced from the housecoat pocket, bound the handcuffs together. Chip now lay face down on Eunice's carpet, effectively hog-tied. Not that he lay quietly. He twisted and tugged, trying to free himself, screaming hoarse threats and imprecations. His voice was muffled inside the bag but loud enough to worry us if either of the other two families in that building had been at home. We had watched the last one, Mrs. Rider from the apartment above me, depart presumably for work at 08:30. I blocked his attempts to roll over and over across the floor. Each oath or scream was necessarily preceded by an intake of breath, collapsing the bag around his head. In short order, his words became simpler. "Help! I'm suffocating!" This we had anticipated. Eunice leaned down close to his head and called very distinctly, "You will if you don't settle down." When she had repeated it twice, it finally seemed to penetrate. He quieted except for gasping attempts to breathe. I forced him on his side, loosened the overhand knot, and pulled the bag away from the back of his head, fanning it like a bellows to replace the stale air. When he was breathing easier, I tightened the bag again, and Eunice made her second speech. "The bag isn't quite airtight. I have confirmed that one can breathe through it by taking deep, slow breaths. This means you must lie quietly. Stirring around causes panting, which you can't afford, Chip." "Wh-what's going on?" asked the muffled voice. "Just a moment," Eunice answered, bending to undo his shirt buttons, following to open belt and fly. As she released the shirt, I pulled it over his shoulders, then his jeans below his knees. The T-shirt went over his head, and the jockey shorts followed the jeans. Five seconds after the last button, he was naked, all his clothing compacted about wrists and ankles. "You bitch, Eunice, what're you doing to me?" I had asked her how she would respond if he called her names. "He does anyway," she had answered, shrugging. Now she surprised me by leaning down and smartly slapping the cheek under the black bag with her open hand. She said sternly, "You will speak respectfully to me, Chip." That silenced him briefly. In his shirt pocket, I found a notebook, the kind with many tear-off pages in a folding binder, so large as to be tight in the pocket. Significantly, no pen or pencil. I riffled through it. Aside from a few cryptic sequences on the first sheet, probably telephone numbers, all the pages were blank. Except for the next to last. A photographic print with the matte finish typical of Polaroid had been cut cleanly by scissors to match the page size and glued onto the page. Originally in four-by-five graflex format, according to Eunice, it had been trimmed about by half, but the trimming had been strategic. Both boy and woman's facing profiles were readily identifiable in one corner of the image, that part of his dick not buried in her cunt barely visible in the other. Her legs were drawn up and crossed over his back, thereby affording the unambiguous view of their junction. Holding it open, I passed the notebook to the woman. She gasped. "Chip, you bad boy! You have ruined that photograph." But she smiled at me in delight. Her next breath was visibly easier. "Wha'd'ya mean, 'ruined'?" he demanded. "Trimmed it down to fit this dinky notebook," she retorted. "Give that back!" Again the hog-tied body twisted and turned. "God damn you bitch, give that back!" Eunice sank to her knees beside him. Her hand flashed out and grasped the youthful scrotum. Immediately, as if a switch had been thrown, the body stilled, and the demand changed in mid-breath. "Oh, god, don't! Don't mash 'em!" "Then watch your tongue," the woman retorted. He quieted. Apparently, she had eased the pressure, but her hand continued to enclose him. Her voice became reasonable. "I don't want your notebook, Chip. Of course I'll return it to you. But this picture is <my> property, after all. Suppose you tell me who has seen it besides David, you and I." The boy lay silent. I saw her hand twitch. "Tell me who, Chip!" "Ah, uh, just the boys," he answered hastily. "Which boys?" "Besides David?" "Don't play stupid, Chip, or I'll have to hurt you." "Please, Eunice, don't mash 'em!" "Then tell me who." He named several boys, including the putative Billy. She wanted to know the circumstances. According to Chip, they had passed it around at a "circle jerk." I was mildly amused to see that she required no definition of that arcane phrase. "And I showed it to my grandpa," the boy concluded. His voice contained an element of calculation. "Did you!" exclaimed Eunice. She looked at me, eyes widening. I curled my lips in disdain. Her eyes narrowed. "And what did Grandpa say?" "Oh, nothing... He, uh, he wanted to know who the woman was." "And you told him it was your school teacher?" "No. I said it was a woman on Billy's paper route." "I see. That was smart, Chip." Her free hand joined the busy one. Finally, the boy asked, "Who's with you?" -- giving Eunice the cue for her third speech. "I've been wanting to talk to you, Chip. That picture of us could so easily fall into the wrong hands. And you wouldn't give it back to me. So I had to get some help." "Help? Wh-what kind of help?" "There's a gang in this city, Chip, a gang of very bad men. I did some work for them once, so I knew how to reach them. But I hated to do it. They're killers, Chip. They'd think no more of crushing you than you would of a beetle on the sidewalk -- actually less; you might want to play with the beetle. "It's a good thing you had this picture with you. If you hadn't, they would have taken you home and ransacked your house. If your family were there, it would have been just too bad for them. And you. "The man who helped me says that the right thing to do with you is take you for a ride to the bridge tonight and throw you over the rail with a couple of cinder blocks tied to your handcuffs. "You're not stupid, Chip. I know you can learn. I've persuaded him to give you one last chance. But only <one> more! If you come near my apartment again, or even say more than 'Hello' to me at school, he'll come back and take you for that ride. "Do you understand?" "Y-yeah." "Say, 'Yes, ma'am, Mrs. Hollowell.'" "Yes, ma'am, Mrs. Hollowell." She held the notebook close to his ear, commanding, "Listen!" In the silence, the tearing paper was loud. She handed me the closed notebook. I returned it to his shirt pocket. "You have your notebook back," she reported. Her hand rubbed him. "One more thing: where did you get this tattoo on your belly?" I had noticed it: a somewhat stylized drawing of a vagina with lips pulled open, in pink with a crown of black hair, about three inches tall altogether. It was a relatively new decoration; all the scabbing had yet to come loose. Obviously, it was professionally done. "Do you like it?" "Where, Chip?" "At the county fair. It cost $150!" He was proud of the money. Eunice's eyes flashed at me. We knew where a large part of his windfall had gone. "And I got laid, too, by a <real> whore!" -- which accounted for a lot more. "Thanks for the compliment," Eunice retorted dryly, stepping back. I noted his equipment and almost asked her if she was loosing her touch. The small, coverless glans was withdrawn nearly to his belly. But the script called for Chip's exit. We began by pulling his clothing back around to its proper locations. Eunice redid buttons while I closed fly and belt. I released the catch on his anklets and raised him to his feet. He staggered but stood straight before the door. I checked: no one was visible in hedge, bank, or balcony. I nodded to the woman and held his wrists securely while she removed the bracelets. She said while I yet held him, "I'll make you a present of that black bag. The drawstrings are in a loose knot behind your neck. You'll have to reach back and untie them. Now I'm going to shove you out on the balcony. Watch your step. Run away as fast as you can before <he> realizes you've gone." I threw open the door as she shoved him forward. He stumbled on the sill and pitched forward, breaking his fall with his hands. I slammed the door shut, snapping the lock, and Eunice immediately pulled the drapes almost closed, leaving a one-inch gap.Staring through it with one eye, she reported, "He's sitting up... There! The bag is off. He's looking toward me, blinking." She pulled the drape wider, peered ostentatiously over her shoulder and made shooing motions with one hand. She smiled. "That did it! He's over the rail like a rabbit... There he goes up the bank, looking back to see if you're coming." She let the drape fall. "Oh, Harry, it worked!" In a second she was in my arms, kissing me all over the face. We sat with drinks at her roller-equipped kitchen table and rehashed the little adventure. She wanted to dwell on every incident. I teased her about her failure to pump him up. "Oh, it was getting hard," she protested. "I really thought I might get one last ejaculation from him." "That's not how it looked when you let it go." "Well, no. I should have put him off when he asked who was helping me. At that point I had a handful." "Your gang of bad men scared him, did it?" "I'll say! It shrank like a pricked balloon and his testicles withdrew halfway into his belly." We both laughed. She asked pensively, "You don't believe he actually showed it to his grandpa, do you?" "No. He'd like to brag, but that would involve real risk to his gravy train. Still, suppose he did. If I were the grandpa, I'd've thought 'lucky little shit'. Since the cops haven't asked you to explain, you can assume his grandpa agrees with me. "Here's something else: You're acquainted with all the boys he showed it to, aren't you?" "Yes." "Again unlikely. Chip couldn't control that crowd. If he showed it to anyone, it'd be the younger boys, the ones who can't reach your balcony yet. Seed for your crop a couple years out." "Harry, it is so reassuring to hear your analysis! How can I ever thank you for this?" I grinned. "Oh, we'll find a way." No issue of a "sitting duck" in this case! One thing is certain, however. The little shits' luck has to run out. If Eunice keeps this up, sooner or later she's bound to get hurt. Bad. And I with her if our close association continues. Everything has strings attached. But strings or not, I'll have to be a lot older and weaker to turn down such willing pussy! Though in fact it's more than pussy. There's not much edification in the friction of mucous membranes. Mrs. Eunice Hollowell is a fascinating person in her own right. What she has seen and done, where she's been, what she thinks of it all: I would enjoy her conversation even if she were a man. She has a wonderful past. But her future seems limited to that of a substitute fist. By her own choice. Too bad for her but goody for me! Of course the main thing she isn't is Daisy.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/17731.txt

Drusilla (Wonder Girl) Goes To College

"I'm going to miss you, little sis," sighed Diana as she closed her eyes and reached out to give her younger sibling a big goodbye hug. Diana's long arms wrapped around the young amazon's upper torso, allowing her to pull her little sister closer in order to feel Drusilla's warm body next to her own. "Me, too," replied Dru, sinking into the softness of her sister's healthy bosom. Drusilla had mixed feelings about leaving Diana. For months, she had eagerly anticipated her first day of college. In fact, she kept a calendar on her bedroom wall as a constant reminder of how close she was to independence and freedom. Still, Diana was much more than a sister; she was her mentor, a friend she looked up to because of her unique combination of beauty and strength. Dru had lived with her sister almost two years, ever since she arrived from Paradise Island. During that time, she had steadily matured from an ice-cream soda-loving tomboy to a now sexy, intelligent woman that was ready to take on the world. Diana was very strict when it came to Dru. Dating was prohibited, along with parties, friends, movies, just about everything a normal, healthy American teenage girl wanted to do. Diana had promised her mother that she would keep Dru out of trouble, and the amazon was determined to live up to her commitment. Of course, Dru made countless attempts to soften up her sister's resolve. Despite the constant nagging and endless arguments, Diana remained firm, countering her sister's pleas with her usual comment that Dru was not a normal American teenager. "I better get going," remarked Diana as she released the bear-hug style being applied to her sibling. Diana turned and walked toward the exit, turning back one last time at the end of the hall to make a final gesture towards Dru. As her sister disappeared behind the stairwell door, Drusilla proceeded back into her dorm room, closing the door behind her. Once inside the room, she took in a big whiff and enjoyed the first smell of freedom. Ahh..., she was now officially an adult, able to make her own decisions about where to go, who to date, how late to stay up. Walking over to her bunk, the young girl stretched out her arms, relaxed, and fell backwards onto the bed. Her rear end bounced several times on the new mattress, which recoiled Dru's body in a manner similar to a trampoline. Such frivolous acts would not have been condoned at home, but this was now her life, and the young woman reveled in the fact that she could do whatever she pleased. When she stopped bouncing, Dru gazed up toward the ceiling and began planning her nightly activities. This was a very special night, her first as a college student, as well as the first as an adult, and she wanted it to be memorable. Dru's train of thought was interrupted by the sound of her roommate, a tall, thin, pale-skinned, redhead named Lori, entering the room. She was skeptical how the two would get along, since, at first glance, they appeared to have dissimilar tastes and priorities. Lori was a social butterfly who did not share her roommate's view of college as a place to have fun. Lori's top collegiate priority was to get accepted into medical school, as evidenced by the fact that she had already contacted all of her professors and was busy working on her initial class assignments. "Want to go to the freshman mixer dance?" Dru asked as she sprang up off the bed and walked toward her closet. Although she had met Lori less than twenty-four hours ago, Dru instinctively knew that her roommate would probably not accept her offer. Still, the young amazon did not know anyone else on campus and desired Lori's companionship. If Lori would not go, she would have to attend the dance by herself. Dru did not mind this prospect, as she was used to spending hours alone in Diana's apartment after school and on weekends. Still, it would be nice to have a friend to talk with. Lori looked up at Dru, politely refused the offer, and then resumed her studies. "OK, you are going to miss out on a lot of fun," Dru predicted as she began rumbling through her closet looking for an outfit to wear. She chose a sexy, low-cut dress that was purchased months earlier for Diana's promotion ceremony. Diana opposed the dress and ordered her sister to exchange it for something a little less risqué. However, Dru ignored Diana's wishes and kept the dress, choosing instead to use her own money to purchase a more conservative outfit for the occasion. She knew the dress was cliché, and that it could be used for college dances, dates, etc. Unbuttoning her jeans, Dru allowed them to fall lifelessly to the floor. She then pulled her T-shirt off, exposing, for the first time, her sexy, athletic body to her roommate. Dru glanced over to see if Lori was checking her out and was disappointed to see that the girl's head was still buried in her books. Dru knew her body was much more developed and mature than Lori's, and she wanted to show it off in order to make her roommate jealous. Dru stood in the closet doorway wearing sexy black G-string panties and a lacy bra. The bra could barely contain the young girl's D-cup sized breasts that were accentuated by the large amount of cleavage it exposed to potential onlookers. Putting on her dress, she asked Lori to zip her up. The dress did little to cover Dru's cleavage, with the top of both breasts still completely exposed. "See you tomorrow," Dru giggled as she waved to her roommate and exited the room, proceeding hastily towards the gym where the dance was taking place. Chapter 2 Prince Charming His name was Jason Brooks, a senior majoring in Computer Science. Although upperclassmen were strictly prohibited from attending the freshman mixer, he had been able to sneak into the dance during his sophomore and junior year. Jason was a normal, All-American, early twenty-something male, with short blonde hair and a medium semi-athletic build. A good student, Jason's major vice was a strong fetish for kinky sex, including participation in threesomes, role-playing games, and light bondage, along with a healthy attraction to large-breasted women. During his first freshman mixer, Jason was able to coax two well-endowed, blonde roommates back to their dorm room, where they engaged in a ménage à trois that lasted for two days, until the official start of classes. He had so much fun that year that he wanted to attend the event every year in order to have first pickings of the new crop of ripe, naïve, freshman girls. Freshman girls were easy prey, especially during the mixer. For most, it was their first night away from Mommy and Daddy, and they were very eager to experience all the nuances college had to offer. Once again, Jason was successful in getting past the dance chaperones that were busy checking IDs at the gym door. Jason proceeded onto the gym floor and positioned himself in a location where he could check out the new freshman class. His eyes panned across the landscape, analyzing the area for a possible prospect for his nightly conquest. As he scanned the room, he eyed mostly groups of girls either talking at their tables or dancing together on the floor. Packs of girls, which Jason jokingly referred to as "pussy packs", made horrible targets. First, he had to choose the one female he would go after, and then he had to convince that girl to leave her friends behind in order to get her back to his apartment. Most girls wanted to stay with their friends, which did not give Jason much chance for success. As his eyes completed the first scan of the room, Jason noticed one girl sitting alone at a table on the far side of the room. From a distance, the girl appeared attractive, and he felt the need to give her a closer inspection. Jason began to walk toward her, passing several "pussy packs" along the way. As he got closer, the young girl's form began to take shape. She was around late seventeen or early eighteen with shoulder-length black hair that was pulled back into a ponytail. Her face was long and youthful looking, showing no signs of acne or blemishes that plagued many girls her age.She was busy looking at a group of girls on the dance floor and did not even notice Jason approaching her table from the side. Arriving at the table, Jason bent down and whispered in the girl's ear. "Would you like to dance?" he inquired as the girl turned around to see her admirer. She looked into his eyes, gave a quick nod of the head, and began to rise out of her chair. A gentleman, Jason reached out to help so that the girl could easily get out of her seat. Reaching out for her hand, Jason was pleased that the girl did not mind his advance. The couple then proceeded hand in hand onto the dance floor. In the middle of the floor, Jason released the girl's hand to allow her to dance freely. At that moment, the fast song that was playing ended and was followed by a slow, romantic ballad. "Good timing," thought Jason as he reached out to bring the girl in close to his body. She did not put up any resistance, as her head came to rest on his right shoulder. "My name is Jason, what's yours?" he inquired, enjoying the feeling of her body in close proximity to his own. "Drusilla," the girl responded as her head popped off his shoulder in order that she could look her partner straight in the eye. He was immediately overtaken by the girl's natural beauty and strong sexual presence. Her green eyes echoed the girl's strong aura and outgoing personality. For the first time, Jason took a long look at Drusilla's breasts. He had noticed them before, poking out of the top of her dress, as her cleavage was hard to miss. He was at least two or three inches taller than Dru, and this height advantage offered Jason a bird's eye view of her chest. Jason caught himself staring at the deep cleavage formed by her skimpy bra, which was probably two sizes too small for her massive bosom. He glanced back into Drusilla's eyes and realized that she had maintained a constant lock on him during the past few moments. This meant that she, most likely, had noticed his gawking. "Go ahead, I don't mind you looking at them," Drusilla remarked as she smiled at the boy. On Paradise Island, honesty was a value that was worshipped and admired by the Amazons. Amazon women were socialized to provide open and honest dialogue about their feelings and desires. Diana had warned her sister, on countless occasions, that open expression of her feelings would not be appreciated in America. Despite the warning, Dru still had a tendency of blurting out any thought that popped into her head. Jason was surprised by her response. He was expecting the typical "You pig" or "Pervert" comment that most American girls would make in a similar situation. He could not put his finger on it, but Jason knew this girl was different from the hundreds of other girls he had encountered during his four years in college. Given her liberal response, he decided to take a chance to see if she could be persuaded to leave the party earlier than expected. "Would you like to go somewhere and talk?" he asked, waiting for Dru to reject his proposal. Instead, she shook her head in agreement, and the couple headed for the exit leading out of the gym. They walked hand in hand out of the building and proceeded in the direction of Jason's car. Again, Jason showed his gentlemanly nature, as he opened the door for his companion. Dru sat down in the car seat and wondered what her big sister would say. Diana would not approve of her going home with a boy she just met. Yet, Dru had wanted to leave the dance so that she could kiss Jason. She had heard so much about making out with boys from her classmates in high school. She did not have the opportunity to kiss any boy during high school because her sister did not let Dru within ten feet of a boy. But tonight was going to be the night. Dru felt all tingly inside with anticipation. She looked lovingly at Jason as he entered the car. "Was he the one?" she pondered, thinking of Diana's romance with Steve Trevor. The ignition started, Jason backed out of the parking space, and the car took off in the direction of his apartment complex a few miles away from campus. Chapter 3 Conversation and Surprises Drusilla watched as Jason fumbled with the keys in a frivolous attempt to open the front door to his apartment. "I thought all freshmen were required to live on campus," remarked Dru as she surveyed her date's physical attributes from head to toe. She was majorly attracted to his muscular physique and broad shoulders. Dru could not wait to wrap her lips around his luscious mouth. "My family used to live in town, and I am technically a day student," Jason explained as he was finally able to open the door. Dru sat on the large couch in the living room, while Jason went to the kitchen to get some drinks. Grabbing the rum from the alcohol cabinet, he poured two large glasses of ginger ale. Jason figured that most girls did not drink ginger ale, so they would be unable to detect that it had been spiked. On the ten or so previous occasions he used the mixture to get a girl drunk, not a single one detected the alcohol. Jason topped off one of the ginger ales with a healthy dose of rum. "Two or three glasses of this and she will be mine," he thought as he turned and headed back into the living room. While Jason was in the kitchen, Dru had been admiring the apartment's decor. "Your pad is fine," she commented, amusing herself at the opportunity to use some American slang. For months, Diana had been teaching her the proper use of common slang terms, and only now was she starting to get a handle on the genre. Jason sat down next to her on the sofa and handed her the drink. Dru took her first swig from the cup and was surprised by the drink's potency. "Mmmm, what is this?" she inquired as Dru began to feel a tingling sensation inside. "It is ginger ale," replied Jason. He was a little nervous, thinking that Dru realized the drink was spiked. His nerves were calmed by her response that she had never drank ginger ale before. "So tell me about yourself, Drusilla..." Jason pondered, trying to remember if she had told him her last name. "Prince," Dru recounted. She continued, "Well, I am from Washington where I live with my sister." Jason put his arm around her, trying to get into a comfortable position. He casually listened to what she had to say, but his mind was focused on mentally planning his strategy for the evening. A few hours of chit-chat, a couple rum and gingers, and then he would move in for the kill. He would first softly kiss her neck, then pick her up and carry her into the bedroom where the night's activities would culminate with them "doing the nasty." He played the scenario over and over in his mind in eager anticipation of getting down to business. His penis came alive with an injection of excitement caused by the pending romp with Drusilla. He had to suffer through the endless hours of hearing about her family, her life story, possibly a description of the high school sweetheart, but the end result was more than worth it. A few hours passed, with Jason getting two more drinks for himself and Drusilla. He could tell the alcohol was taking effect as she began to slur words and get off on tangents that had no relevance to the conversation at hand. He thought how this girl probably never had a drink before and that she would be easily plastered. He also determined that she was probably a virgin after Drusilla described all the rules she was forced to endure while living with her sister. Jason thought that five more minutes were needed before he could make his move. Jason knew that girls really warmed up when they thought a man was completely honest with them. Although Dru did not need warming up, he decided to come clean with her. This way, if she was a good fuck, he would not have to explain why he lied to her about being a freshman. After all, she seemed liberally minded, the type of girl that would understand why a senior might sneak into the freshman mixer. "I have something to tell you, Dru," he began. "I am not really a freshman, but rather a senior who snuck into the dance." Jason waited to see his date's reaction, looking into her eyes to gauge the response. In her drunken state, Drusilla was confused by the confession. Was he telling her this secret in exchange for one of hers? Maybe this is how love went in America. After all, Diana told Steve of her secret identity as Wonder Woman when the two started dating. Maybe she should tell Jason that she was Wonder Girl, as a sign of good faith. But Diana was adamant that she never reveal this secret to anyone. Dru pondered how Diana could say this and then contradict herself by revealing the secret to Steve. She finally came to the alcohol-induced conclusion, "What the heck, who is it going to hurt?" "I am something I have not told you either, Jason," Dru remarked. She stood up and placed her drink on the nightstand next to the sofa. She walked to the middle of the room, raised her arms in the air, and began to twirl clockwise. Jason was confused by his date's actions. He watched as a sudden ball of light covered her entire body. When the ball subsided, he noticed that Dru was still twirling but that her clothes and appearance had changed. She came to a halt, facing him, donning her Wonder Girl costume. "I am Wonder Girl, Jason," Dru blurted out, with most of her words slurred due to her intoxicated state. The twirl had made Dru dizzy, and she fell to the floor, unable to hold her balance after the transformation. Dru sluggishly got back to her feet and she managed to once again stand erect, with pride, presenting her secret identity as Wonder Girl to her new friend. Jason was stunned. This little unassuming, naive girl was Wonder Girl. Over the years, he had many sexual fantasies about both Wonder Woman and Wonder Girl. These fantasies involved him capturing the two superheroines and holding them as sex slaves.Sometimes he would include only one of the girls in his dreams, but most of the time the two were a pair. He wondered whether or not he had accidentally spiked his own drink and was now hallucinating based on some secret internal desire to be with Wonder Girl instead of Drusilla. He convinced himself that this was not a dream and standing before him was in fact the real Wonder Girl. He pondered the fact that if Dru was Wonder Girl, then the sister, whom she had been describing all night, must be Wonder Woman. Jason felt his excitement level increase thinking of the possibilities Dru's announcement presented. He was going to bang Wonder Girl and if he was lucky, maybe future sessions would include Wonder Woman. Dru sat back down on the sofa next to Jason. She reached out to grab behind his head so that she could pull his face closer to her own. Pressing her lips against his, Dru began to softly kiss her date. She opened her mouth and pushed out her tongue, using it to part Jason's willing lips. Their tongues touched for the first time, and Dru was overcome with a warm sensation that was barely able to penetrate the control which the alcohol "buzz" had on her feelings. Likewise, Jason experienced strong urges conjured up by the embrace. Despite the lack of experience, Dru was adept at using her lips and tongue to excite her partner. When the freshness of the moment was over, Jason focused his mind on the fact that he was making out with "the Wonder Girl". As a teenager, one of his many fantasy scenarios included using Wonder Girl's magic lasso to gain control over her. Then he would tie the struggling damsel's arms and legs to the bedpost and enjoy her for the evening. In his dreams, Jason was most turned on by the sight of a captured Wonder Woman or Wonder Girl struggling, bound and gagged, in a vain attempt to gain freedom from bondage. The inclusion of a second female to molest Wonder Girl was a favorite variation of the original fantasy. Excited by the possibility of living out these desires, Jason decided to make a move. After a few minutes, he opened his eyes and took a long look at the magic lasso secured to Wonder Girl's waist. He was still making out with Dru, but his attention was now focused on the lasso which could be used to control her. He decided to throw caution to the wind and reached down with his right hand to pull the lasso from its holder. Dru was unaware of his actions, since she was thoroughly enjoying her first make-out session with a boy. Jason's left hand released its hold on Dru's leg and proceeded behind her back to help uncoil the lasso. He then slowly moved the lasso around the middle part of Dru's body, tying the ends together over the young Amazon's abdomen. When the lasso was in place, Jason released from his embrace with Dru. "Well, well, Wonder Girl, it would appear that you are my prisoner," he began, taking a second look at his victim. Dru's eyes opened, and immediately he noticed that she was in a dazed, hypnotic state. Her green eyes, that once portrayed Dru's strength and vigor, now appeared dull and glazed, indicating her new willingness to suggestion and temptation. "Tell me, Wonder Girl, what is the source of your power," Jason inquired. Dru pointed to the power belt that was fastened to her waist. She then motioned to the feminine bracelets securely fastened around her wrists. He followed up by asking, "So I am to understand that if you are not wearing the belt or bracelets, you have the capabilities of a normal human." Dru shook her head up and down in agreement with his statement. "Take them off and lay them on the floor," he ordered. Dru complied with the request, placing both the belt and bracelets at his feet.Dru had gotten her legs waxed two days prior, and her skin was as soft and smooth as a baby's bottom. His hands glided over her thigh, moving in small concentric circles, first touching and then massaging her calf muscle. He moved them closer and closer to her vagina, stopping just short of his ultimate objective. After a few moments, Jason rose to his feet and brandished three more scarves. The first scarf was placed around Dru's eyes. It was an effective blindfold that covered the entire top portion of her face. He then balled up another scarf and ordered her to open her mouth. The scarf was stuffed inside, followed by another scarf placed between her teeth and tied in the back of her head. The cleave gag kept the scarf packed in Dru's mouth from coming out. Jason stepped back to admire his handiwork. He thought how sexy Drusilla looked, helpless, bound, and gagged, still comatose due to the lasso fastened to her waist. Jason reached down, grabbing Dru's legs and laying them down on the bed. Dru wiggled her upper body slightly to get a comfortable position in the middle of the bed. He then undid the lasso and pulled it out from underneath Dru's body. She would now regain full consciousness, but would be unable to remember the moments leading up to and including her capture. Jason figured out that when Dru realized her predicament, she would begin to struggle in an attempt to work her bonds. Without her power belt and bracelets, Wonder Girl had no chance of success against the handcuffs and scarves that restricted her movement. Dru began to snap out of the coma brought on by the magic lasso. The last thing she remembered was sitting on the sofa in Jason's apartment. Someone must have snuck up from behind and knocked her out. Still drunk, she made a clumsy, unsuccessful attempt at breaking the handcuffs. "Someone must have removed my power belt," Dru analyzed as she started to work even harder to break free from her bondage. The alcohol clouded her judgment, as had Wonder Girl been sober, she would realize the futility of her actions. Her body began to wiggle and gyrate as all of her remaining energy was focused on breaking the cuffs. Jason had moved away from the bed and was now seated in a rocking chair that sat a few feet from the bed. He had removed his pants in order to get better access to his penis. When Wonder Girl began struggling, Jason slowly started to rub his already semi-erect penis. The slow rubs allowed him greater control in analyzing when he was close to ejaculation. He could then slow down his stroke or pause for a few seconds to allow the pending climax to subside. The sight of Wonder Girl struggling was a powerful picture that caused him great excitement. Still, he wanted to enjoy the moment for as long as possible, lest it might be a once in a lifetime experience. He watched as Dru swayed from side to side to gain additional leverage that could be used to break the bonds. Each movement caused her breasts to jiggle in a manner similar to the way they might have moved had Dru been running. At one point, she got frustrated at her futile attempts and stopped her struggling. Dru then quickly thrust her pelvis into the air in a renewed attempt to gain her freedom. Unsuccessful, she paused a moment to catch her breath, followed by her turning on her side. Her body was now facing Jason, and he could see that the left side of her bra had been moved down by all the movement. This caused Dru's erect, pinkish nipple to peek out from under the bra. The nipple was half inside the bra and half visible. Dru began to violently thrust her hips back and forth, and the movement caused the remainder of the nipple to pop out of the bra. Dru's areolas were huge, approximately the size of a half dollar. Focusing on the young girl's nipple and breasts, Jason was not paying attention to the fact that he was about ready to ejaculate. At the last moment, he quickly pulled his hands off his penis, but it was too late. Several globs of white semen were sprayed onto his hands and legs. He raised off the chair, wiped his hands on Dru's exposed breast, and then proceeded toward the bathroom to wash away the remaining semen residue. Dru jerked back, as she was unaware that one of her captors was in the room. Jason had been particularly careful to remain quiet so that Wonder Girl would be undisturbed in her attempts to escape. Dru realized that at least one of her breasts must be exposed since she felt the warm hand brush up against her nipple. She then heard a knock on the door and could tell that her assailant left the room to go answer it. Dru wondered what happened to Jason and hoped that he had not been captured as well.The teenage superheroine asked her captor, "Who are you and what are you going to do with me?" The masked woman did not speak, instead turning Dru around so that she could untie her legs and arms. Despite being ignored, Dru continued the questioning, "What have you done with the young man I was with?" Again, the woman did not acknowledge the inquiry. Shelly was diligently trying to remove all the ropes that Jason had tied around Wonder Girl. When she was finally successful at removing the last rope, Shelly began to speak, "My name is Pussycat." Shelly had always liked this name as it implied a sexual undertone to her supervillain persona. Shelly used the key Jason had given her to unlock the handcuffs around Dru's wrists. When the handcuffs were removed, Dru began to rub her wrists in order to soothe the soreness caused by the metal rubbing against her skin. Shelly placed the cuffs on the dresser, next to the bed, and announced to her unsuspecting victim, "As for your friend, oh yoo hoo." The door flew open, and standing in the doorway was Jason. He was naked with a rope tied around the middle part of his body. Wonder Girl recognized the rope as her magic lasso. Upon closer inspection, she would have been able to discover that the rope was actually not her magic lasso, but rather one of the ropes Shelly and Jason used during their bondage games. But for now, Wonder Girl believed that Jason's mind was being controlled by the evil Pussycat that had captured them. Wonder Girl's fate was sealed by a single command Shelly gave to Jason. Upon hearing the order to "rape her," Jason bull-rushed the Amazon. Dru turned toward Shelly, in disbelief that her newfound love was now being commanded to sexually accost her, and did not see Jason's hand clamp over her mouth. In addition to silencing his prey, the hand served as additional leverage he could use to pin Dru's body against the bedroom wall. The force of Dru's body hitting the wall knocked down several pictures that were hung on an adjacent wall. Jason then used his free hand to pull off Wonder Girl's bra, exposing, for the first time, her entire breasts. When they were alone, Jason got a good, long look at one of Dru's areolas. Now, he had access to both of her full, round breasts. Jason started to suck on one of Dru's nipples. Dru was continuing to struggle in order to escape his clutches. Earlier, Dru would have been excited at the possibility of making love to Jason. The situation had changed; this was not love, it was rape, and Jason was now a pawn of her adversary. Without her power belt, Wonder Girl was not strong enough to stop Jason's advance. She made several unsuccessful attempts to untie the magic lasso around Jason's waist. This would have enabled Jason to clear his mind. Watching the proceedings from across the room, Shelly was amused by the sight of the powerful, strong superheroine being violated against her will by a normal person. She eagerly awaited the opportunity to introduce Wonder Girl to the pleasures of lesbian sex. Satisfied that Jason had the situation under control, Shelly left the room. When he finished sucking Dru's breasts, Jason reached for her panties. Quickly yanking them down to her knees, Jason used his feet to push them to the floor. This enabled him to get direct access to her vagina. He now forced the naked superheroine towards the bed, paying particular attention to keep his hand over her mouth. Dru continued to struggle to no avail. Forcing her onto the bed, Jason reached for the handcuffs that Shelly had left on the dresser. Removing his hand from Dru's mouth, Jason pushed his chest into her face to muffle Wonder Girl's screams. He moved her hands up to the bed posts and locked the handcuffs in place around both wrists. With the handcuffs in place, Jason again placed his left hand over Dru's mouth. The right hand was then placed underneath her ass to allow him to lift up the lower part of Dru's body. This would enable him to easily insert his penis into her vagina. With a powerful thrust, Jason broke Wonder Girl's cherry. Dru's body uncoiled in a violent reaction to being fucked for the first time. She screamed out in a mixture of pain and pleasure, but her words were muffled by Jason's hand. Jason followed up the initial penetration with a series of thrusting movements that enabled him to move deeper and deeper inside Dru's pussy. This assault continued for around twenty minutes, with the excitement of banging Wonder Girl causing Jason to prematurely ejaculate. With he was finished, Jason rolled off of Dru. The rape had exhausted both Dru and Jason. Dru was exhausted from trying to fight off Jason's advances, as well as the strenuous bumping and grinding of her first fuck. Jason unlocked the handcuffs, got off the bed, and headed out of the bedroom to go get Shelly. Dru tried to muster enough strength to lift her body off the bed in hopes of an escape. However, her window of opportunity closed when Shelly entered the room with an evil grin on her face. Dru knew that the evening was only just beginning and that Shelly had much more in store for her and Jason.

Chapter 1 Drusilla's Preparation

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/7554.txt

Jan V.

SISTERS

"Nikki, come to me... Come to me..." a female voice implored. Nikki couldn't say who was calling her so desperately. The girl's face would sometimes materialize in her mind, or dissolve in the next moment as mist on a sunny day. Nikki reached out for the other girl, but their fingers never touched, as if an invisible wall stood between them. Nikki screamed, calling for the girl, who resembled her in so many ways. Her heart beat faster, and she could feel the acid accumulating in her lungs and muscles, because the other girl kept falling and falling... away from her... Nikki woke up, startled, confused, her eyes becoming acquainted with the darkness of her surroundings. She realized she was at the beach house, in her bedroom, and that she had had a bad dream. The other girl in her dream was Linda, she decided, as she stared at her sister. Linda was still sleeping, wearing her usual T-shirt - she hated pajamas! - her long curls swept across her back. Linda's right leg was bent and naked, teasing the T-shirt upward, and the sheet away from her body. Seeing this, Nikki became again excited with desire. The craving for Linda's kisses returned, making her lips dry. Nikki recalled how Big Sis now avoided the slightest physical contact between them if she happened to be close together. If confronted with what had happened on Saturday evening, Linda reiterated that it wasn't right, that it had all been a mistake, her mistake. Nikki had tried to reason with her but Big Sis wouldn't stay and listen to her arguments. The twins had ruined everything, especially Zoe. In spite of Zoe's big mouth, Linda had managed to prevent a major earthquake at home. As always, Big Sis got her own way, talking Zoe into silence - but for how long? The twins were still mad at them, although for different reasons. Jeannie was jealous of what Linda and she had, which was... nothing; and Zoe was jealous of what might happen between her twin sister and Linda, which was NOTHING, either. Nikki shook her head, getting out of bed, discarding the feeling that their lives were turning into one of those TV soap operas she hated so much. Living the lives of others was not her idea of fun. She was a doer, not a dreamer... If she wanted something, she would do (almost) anything to get it. Linda had taught her to chase after her dreams and fight for her happiness. But what would Big Sis say about her daydreams right now? Making as little noise as possible, Nikki washed herself and dressed, wearing her bikini under her beach shorts and her sleeveless, top-cropped T-shirt. She went downstairs, turning on the lights of a deserted kitchen. It was 7:45 AM., too early even for Dad if he didn't have to leave for work. It was Spring Break and Dad had taken a few days off his busy-busy schedule to stay with his wife and kids. He was to leave on Wednesday as he had an important meeting waiting for him in Houston, Texas. Mom would then take off for Palm Springs with a friend of hers and, as usual, would only be back a couple of days later. 'Just as well,' Nikki thought. 'At least we can do whatever we want.' Spring Break ended next Sunday, Nikki realized as she walked out of the back door, breathing in the fresh air of a lovely morning. She stretched herself out in Dad's lawn chair, and at that moment she wished she had a pet, a dog or a bunny, something she could call her own. Mom wouldn't allow any living animal at home, though, because pets were messy and smelled. Mom was commanding and stubborn as hell, and so was Linda. That's why Linda and Mom couldn't get along - they were too alike. Nikki rubbed her tanned, slender legs, as a chill had run through her body. Although the morning was sunny and soothingly warm, she shivered now and then. Her hands rested on her thighs, while desire was oozing between her legs. She didn't care much for self-relief. It felt too selfish and lonely. There were, however, times when she couldn't resist it, bringing herself to a very satisfying orgasm. She hated to deal with the guilt afterwards, though. When she was just six Mom had caught her masturbating against Mr. Tom, her favorite teddy bear. Mom pulled her up and smacked her bottom, screaming at her in front of Anita about what a "bad girl" she was. Mom took Mr. Tom away and Nikki hadn't seen him since. Many years later Linda told her she shouldn't feel guilty about rubbing herself off. If she felt like it she should do it, and to hell with what Mom thought. "And do you do it?" Nikki had asked. "Yes, of course... Most folks do but won't admit it." Linda squeezed her hand, assuring her it was OK what she felt. Notwithstanding Linda's assurances, Nikki was unable to shake off her uneasiness about masturbation. Mom's screaming and her public humiliation came back to haunt her and to ruin all the pleasure she had just experienced. The funny thing was that she didn't feel any guilt whatever about making love with Linda... No, on the contrary. She felt liberated, safe, and out of harm's way. Linda gave her strength, because Big Sis loved her. That Saturday evening Linda had told her so.... Her heart thumped harder. Nikki felt where her heart should be with her right hand and wondered whether she was falling in love with Linda. Linda... She was so beautiful, so strong... 'I love her,' she realized, feeling sudden warmth in her cheeks, surprised by the depth of her feelings. But Linda was her sister... How could she feel this way? How could she? Nikki heard the back door opening and shutting. It was Dad, wearing his red turtleneck, which clashed visibly with his oversized khaki shorts. Puffing at his pipe, he greeted her and asked how she felt. Nikki went through the motions, engaging in a conversation she was rather uncomfortable with. She wondered whether he would ask about Zoe and Linda, and what Zoe wanted to tell him. Nikki noticed how carefully he trod with his questioning, maneuvering their conversation into that very subject. Fortunately, Linda barged into the back yard, just in time, as if Big Sis had seen it coming. That morning's glorious weather gained sudden priority in Dad's speech, and it remained so until he walked back into the house, leaving the two girls by themselves. Hesitantly Nikki turned her face to Linda, who had stretched herself out on a lawn chair next to hers. Linda had her eyelids closed, enjoying the sunshine. She wore her usual dark yellow T-shirt and her very short, snug black shorts. Without even noticing, Nikki's eyes scanned her sister's breasts and her brawny, yet feminine long legs. That familiar wetness returned, the reactions of her sex putting her to the blush. As if Big Sis had noticed her stare, Linda opened her eyes and faced her. "I almost don't recognize you." "What?" "Getting up so early is not exactly what you do on a regular basis." "I couldn't sleep... Anyway I want to go to the beach early." "Do you miss the guys that much?" Nikki observed her sister more closely, trying to discern whether that remark was out of jealousy or was just plain old Linda cracking jokes. "No," Nikki said, shaking her head and averting Linda's staring. That remark made her terribly sad, although she couldn't say why. "I don't want to go to the promenade... not today. I know this beach, a few miles from here... We could take your Jeep and go there, for a change." "Sounds good to me," Linda replied, shutting her eyes and facing the morning sun again. "Let's hope the twins'll think the same."Nikki drew breath to say thanks but decided against it when she exhaled. She could feel Linda wanted some distance. Giving an answer would violate her sister's wistful mood. After some discussion with the twins, they chose a spot near the sand dunes and away from the waveline. Since they were going to sunbathe topless, the dunes would offer protection from curious ogling, should people appear on the beach. As she slipped off her T-shirt and shorts, Nikki's eyes moved away from Linda's body. The tension of excitement had announced its presence between her legs as soon as she saw Linda's naked breasts and her beautiful, slender body. Fortunately, Big Sis seemed unaware of her staring, busy as she was with the oiling of her own arms and ample chest. Although topless sunbathing was a rare event for them, their tan lines were almost invisible. They all wore expensive bikinis which allowed most of the UV light through. They had bought them in an exclusive boutique in Beverly Hills, owned by a man who did his best to look like David Niven and sound as savvy as a college professor. Linda handed the sunblock over to Nikki and asked her how she knew about this secluded beach. It was because of Jim Tatum, Nikki explained. She met Jim at Lana Martin's party. He was a college freshman at the time, nicely built, with strong shoulders and arms but hardly the typical UCLA jock. He had a way with words, which reminded her of Linda, and a gleaming two-wheeled import that would sweep any teenage girl off her feet with its powerful roar of an angry, thirsty engine. In the beginning, she declined his invitations to go for a ride. Jim Tatum scared her somehow. On the other hand, she was curious as to what it would feel like riding on a bike like that, feeling the wind in her hair, leaning against a guy a lot of girls would kill to be friends with. In the end, Lana whisked her doubts away, and she accepted Jim's idea of a thrilling date. And thrilling it was… She had screamed and laughed when Jim accelerated and negotiated a tight turn at full speed. The ocean stretched away into a cloudless horizon at their right, and huge boulders of hard rock cropped out at their left, giving them no chance if Jim lost control of his roaring bike. After a long ride, he took her to this secluded beach, and soon enough he kissed her and made the first moves for them to make out. Nikki pushed him away firmly, looking at him sharply and making it clear she was not going to have sex with him. Besides, she was seeing Craig Worell and she didn't intend to cheat on her boyfriend. Jim got mad, standing up and throwing some curses at the wind, while his hand brushed back his light brown hair. Eventually, he brought her home, without saying another word or looking at her directly again. Fortunately, she hadn't seen him since. Linda smiled at Nikki's story of failed seduction and looked at the breakers that kept rolling onto the sand. Again, Nikki had to tear her eyes off Linda's tanned body. Big Sis's breasts were like a magnet. She didn't mean to stare like a sex-starved boy, but every time she looked at Linda's body, the overwhelming emotions of their lovemaking washed over her like a gigantic wave. Those feelings wreaked havoc with her determination to respect her sister's decision to put an end to the sexual nature of their relationship. She swallowed and sighed, exerting herself to keep the tears from flowing. If only she could find a way to make her sister understand it was OK for them to make love, she wondered. If they wanted to, why not? Because they were sisters? And if she were a guy, would Linda have less qualms about making love? Nikki took her turn at applying the sunblock. The twins were just a few feet away from her, giggling and playing with their own bottle of sunblock, spreading the oily liquid on each other. They avoided the other's breasts as though it were understood that their small chests were forbidden territory. Seeing Zoe and Jeannie in such a playful mood, touching each other's bodies freely, it became clear to Nikki how much she wanted Linda. The twins didn't have to deal with the frustration she felt. Done with the sunblock, Nikki let the bottle drop in Linda's jute bag and walked over to the waveline. She rubbed her eyes, feeling the moisture with her fingertips, and hugging herself. She looked at the ocean and the waves and the birds and the infrequent yachts that lazily cruised on the water. The water felt cold on her feet. Nikki let the waves bury her feet under the sand, pretending not to hear the twins' playful giggling. They were wrestling, Nikki guessed without looking back. They would soon come and dive into the sea, and wash the sand off their bodies. After a few minutes of high-pitched giggling and screaming, Zoe's and Jeannie's voices came closer. As Nikki foresaw, her younger sisters ran into the water, disappearing under a wave and surfacing a couple of feet further away from the beach. Jeannie waved her to join them, but Nikki turned her down. Nikki didn't feel like getting wet. She looked back, taking a fleeting glance at Linda. Linda lay flat on her beach towel, ignoring the twins' monkeyshines. "The water's freezing," Zoe said, making her way back to the beach, trembling. Without paying attention to Nikki, Zoe returned to the sand dunes to fetch her towel and dry herself off. Jeannie stayed in the water a little while longer. Then she swam to the beach, got to her feet, and walked over toward Nikki. All of a sudden, Jeannie kicked in the water, splashing her sister silly, causing Nikki to withdraw to a safer, drier spot on the sand. Her sense of relief didn't last long as a pair of strong hands took hold of her arms, pushing her toward Jeannie. "Linda!" Nikki cried out with surprise in her eyes. "Yes, that's me," Linda laughed. "I'm joining the fun, Sis." Before Nikki could say a thing, another spatter of sea water was kicked at her by Jeannie, who was laughing as boisterously as Linda. Reacting as fast as she could, Nikki ducked and wriggled herself free from Linda's firm clasp, and dived into the water. "Hey, that's not fair," Nikki complained, swimming away from her sisters. "I'm always alone against all of you." "That's what lazybones get sooner or later," Jeannie cracked. "I'm not lazy." "You're not?" Jeannie said, savoring the irony with her lips. Linda and Jeannie sat down on the sand, the water caressing their feet. They were still grinning at each other and then at Nikki. Nikki joined them, settling down beside Big Sis and keeping her eyes open, watchful for any sign of Linda or Jeannie wanting another bout of wrestling. No words were exchanged. The three of them just listened to the sounds of the sea and the birds hovering overhead. Nikki wondered if Jeannie's horseplay was a kind of conciliatory gesture, an attempt to prevent further distrust and friction between them. Unlike Zoe, Jeannie was not a rancorous girl. Jeannie could fly into a rage but she was usually the one to raise the white flag first. Then Nikki's eyes fell on Big Sis, to examine her absent look with her green eyes lost in the distance. Nikki wanted to ask Big Sis what she was thinking about, but Jeannie's presence dissuaded her from such a dangerous line of questioning. In spite of Nikki's silence, it seemed as though Linda had noticed Nikki's staring. Linda stood up and brushed the sand off her bikini bottom. "I'd better go," she said, "or Zoe might think we don't like to be around her any more." "She could've joined us," Nikki retorted. "Yes, Nikki, she could've. But Zoe's still pissed off and you know that." Nikki shrugged as her big sister left. She didn't want to think about the reasons for Linda's bluntness and Zoe's reticence. The sexual ghost still hovered above their heads, just like a seagull searching for the right moment to dive and catch its prey. Nikki couldn't accept that sex had ruined everything between Big Sis and herself. That simply couldn't be true. "Nikki?" "Yes?" Nikki replied, brushing her hair away from her face and looking at her youngest sister. "Don't be sad," Jeannie said, sliding closer and resting her hand on Nikki's. "Zoe and I, we talked last night… I guess… we overreacted. I mean, it's not every day that… You know what I mean." Nikki took a good look at Jeannie, observing her face and appraising the sincerity of her sister's words. "You mean you're not angry with Linda any more?" "I figured, what's the use… I…" Jeannie looked away, her mouth half open. She just interrupted herself as if unable to put her feelings into words. Then she added, "I still don't know… what's going on. It's-" "-so overwhelming," Nikki helped. "Yes," Jeannie nodded, taking a deep breath. She smiled a little smile and went on, "Linda is… so…" "…overwhelming," Nikki helped Jeannie once again. They both laughed, looking at each other. Nikki put her other hand on Jeannie's hand, feeling deeply connected with her youngest sister. Nikki could see that Jeannie understood her because she felt the same about Linda. And that was amazing, so unreal and unbelievable… But who wouldn't fall in love with Linda? Who? "And Zoe? I think she's still mad at us." Jeannie licked her dry lips, removing her hand from Nikki's and encircling her legs. "You know how Zoe is. I'm working on her, though." "You think she's gonna tell?" Jeannie shrugged, rising to her feet. "I think we should go. I think Linda's calling us." Nikki stood up and followed Jeannie silently, her hands sweeping the sand away and adjusting her bikini bottom. She chose to forget that depressing subject altogether. It was a downer, definitely, and the last thing she wanted was to feel sad. She was young, damn it, and she wanted to have FUN! * * * Three crazy days went by.Linda was drinking too much too fast and to such an extent that Jeannie wondered whether they would get arrested for breach of public order and carrying fake IDs. On top of everything else, Linda was flirting with Mr. Cool totally uninhibitedly, as she never did before. What was she trying to prove? That she was not a lesbian? On Friday night, Linda told Jeannie she was sick of the resort and was thinking about leaving the beach house and going back home. Linda missed Rick and wanted to be with him. The next morning, despite the sunny and pleasant weather, the girls returned to L.A. Jeannie felt some relief, as if Linda's decision was the first step for a healthier attitude toward life. However, Jeannie's optimism was soon put to the test. She sensed something was wrong with Big Sis. The slightest provocation was enough for Linda to lash out in a fury. Her remarks became blunter, and often downright cruel. Linda would apologize, but often too late to prevent retaliation from Nikki or Zoe. All this tension had almost reached breaking point when Linda stayed out all night, returning home completely drunk. Dad grounded her for a fortnight and forbade her to see Rick ever again. As always, Rick took the blame for Linda's rebelliousness, Jeannie thought, sighing. Zoe gloated over this state of affairs, Jeannie recalled, as if Linda's house arrest made them even. Jeannie thought her twin's reaction mean and insensitive, and as a result they didn't speak to each other for days. Zoe spent most of her free time with Joey Hernandez, a guy in her class she was seeing quite regularly. In turn, Jeannie would go out with Janey Manson (not related to Chad Manson) and Brittany McGuire, two girls she had met at the tryouts for the cheerleader squad. In spite of Brittany's failure to make the squad, the three of them became good friends. Fortunately, it didn't take long for Brittany to find out her new love - to draw funnies for the school's newsletter. Zoe tried one day to bury the hatchet. Jeannie was getting ready for bed when she heard Zoe enter the bedroom they shared. Their bedroom in L.A. resembled their sleeping quarters at the beach house, except it was roomier and more sober-looking. Instead of the posters and pennants, there were "boring" oils that Mom had chosen for them. As at the beach house, their bedroom had its private bathroom with its door opening into a small hallway, which in turn connected their bedroom to the main hall upstairs. Because of this layout, Jeannie hadn't seen Zoe breeze into the bathroom; though she could hear someone brushing their teeth, and the water running in the washbowl. When the noises stopped, Jeannie pulled up the covers and shut her eyes. She heard light footsteps approaching and heading for her sister's side of the room. Then she heard the rustling of someone getting undressed. At this point, there was a long pause. Jeannie waited for the familiar sound of Zoe slipping into her pajamas but no such thing happened - only silence. She waited a while longer until her curiosity got the better of her. Jeannie opened her eyes and turned to see her sister sitting on the edge of her bed, her head low, and her long tresses hiding most of her naked body. Zoe was scratching her knee when she looked up and met Jeannie's stare. "What's up?" Zoe shrugged, twisting her mouth slightly. She looked away for a moment and then faced her twin again, her teeth gnawing at her lips. There was a deep sigh and another pause. When Jeannie was about to speak, Zoe said, "You're right… about Linda… I had no right to say what I said." "Do you mean that?" "Yeah… I do. I just… want us to make up. I can't stand this any more. It seems that everybody went crazy in this house." "That's true," Jeannie agreed, making it her turn to look away, sighing, her eyes staring blankly at the window. She scratched her head and her hand swept a thin strand of hair over her ear. "You still think about… don't you?" Jeannie blinked as if she hadn't understood what her sister meant. She was about to deny it when her head nodded. "I can't help it… I really can't help it." And as unexpectedly as a thief in the night, tears welled up in her eyes. She began to sob out loud, feeling a longing inside her she couldn't quite understand. Her heart ached and her body shook as if from cold. Jeannie sniffled, her breathing slightly heavier than normal. As she wiped her eyes dry, Zoe settled down next to her. "How'd you know?" "I see how you look at Linda. You should be more careful… Other people might guess it, too." Utter fear hit Jeannie in the face, gasping for breath. "What do you mean? I'm not that obvious… I mean… If you hadn't brought it up I wouldn't-" "Next time just pay attention to how Nikki stares at Linda when no one is looking. You do the same, Jeannie… I think sometimes Nikki and you don't even notice it… but I do. It's seems as though everybody is in love with her in this goddam house." "Stop blaming her, Zoe… Nothing happened against our will." "But she should know better. She's older than you two. She should act her age. She's always tried to be in control, as if she was our mother. But she isn't, Jeannie. She isn't." "I know that," Jeannie replied, letting her irritation show. "I'm sorry… I'm really tired and I wanna get some sleep." "OK," Zoe said, retreating to her own bed. "Just think about it." As night darkened their room, Jeannie's pupils widened, her eyes adapting to the weakening light outside. She couldn't sleep. Her sister's words were hammering away in her head. She kept asking herself whether Zoe could be right. Was her fascination for Linda that obvious? No, that couldn't be true. Mom and Dad would've noticed otherwise… Or maybe not. Mom and Dad appeared to live in another world, dealing with them on a different wavelength. Jeannie began entering into a dream world that drew her away into strange landscapes bathed in moonlight and soft voices. A female hand touched her and she trembled. There were screams followed by a long pause. A baby cried and then laughed… After that, only silence… NEXT: CHAPTER FIVE: SURRENDER

FOUR: FRUSTRATION

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/13210.txt

Joy Paine

TORTURED TEACHER

"And now for the lesson," Chuck said happily. Susie screamed when she saw the whip that he was taking from the "equipment" suitcase. Or more like a rod than a whip, like the ones she had read about in Dickens. The whip had no lash and was just a flexible switch, about two feet long. Chuck walked around her, savoring her helpless nudity, swishing the switch through the air as he looked her over. And then the blow. Full force, across the upper slopes of both breasts. A thin red welt crossed the flawless ivory surface. Susie's scream tore her throat. Chuck rubbed his hand across the welt, pressing those damned spiders as he did so. "Not bad," he muttered, "but a little unsporting. It's much more fun with a moving target." The other kids knew what was next. One of them grabbed one of Susie's wrists, pulled it downward. The rope through the pulley yanked her other wrist toward the ceiling, making her reach painfully to arm's length. Then another boy pulled that wrist down, hauling the first one up. By mutual consent, they set up a rhythm, so that Susie was forced to extend one arm to full length, then the other. And again, and again. She knew what "moving target" they had in mind, even before Chuck reached into the suitcase and took out another whip. A long lash, this time, with a knot on the end. He snapped it with unerring aim, driving excruciating pain through her breasts as they danced up and down. And every now and then it hit on one of the Spiders, multiplying the pain. Then one of the other boys took over the whip. And another. They didn't limit their attentions exclusively to Susie's tits, even though those were the main focus of their attention. Every now and then, one would snap the lash into her cunt, or walk around behind her for a few whacks at her ass. Or sometimes they would use two whips, and work on tits and ass at the same time. But bit by bit, they began to tire of the sport. After all, foreplay was fun, but they had really come here for the fucking. And they were ready. Boy, were they ever ready... "OK, let's get our little whore ready for the main event," Chuck said at last. "It's Crusher time." Susie had already guessed what the Crushers would be, but she still gasped in horror as they took the Satanic device from the suitcase and held it up for her inspection, explaining in loving detail what it would do to her. They adjusted the device carefully to her dimensions, buckling the support strap around her neck, and the other strap around her back, so that those awful jaws were positioned properly around her breasts. Then carefully, with cruel deliberateness that prolonged the agony to the breaking point, they started tightening the tension strap. Susie screamed again and again, long piercing shrieks of pure agony, as the clamps closed mercilessly on the tender flesh of her breasts. Finally, they decided that the pain was strong enough "for a background level", and buckled the strap in position. They closed a padlock through the buckle, to prevent Susie from loosening it until they were ready to let her use the key. And then the really diabolical part of the device... They locked a control cable thing onto a pair of rings in the tension strap -- a long cable that ended in a handle something like the brake grip of a bicycle, that increased the pain drastically whenever the handle was squeezed. Chuck played with it a bit, not enough to make Susie faint, but enough to impress on her the importance of immediate obedience. "OK, Susie," he taunted. "It's fuck time. You guys take her into the bathroom and see that she puts her diaphragm on, while Angie warms me up." CHAPTER: 17 AUTHOR: Joy Paine CORRECTED_TEXT: Angie had done her "warming up" well, Susie couldn't help noticing as Chuck approached her. "We'll do it in the missionary position," Chuck told her, "just like you do it for your husband, I imagine." The mention of Jim sent new pain through Susie's heart. And she knew that they knew that, too. Last night's ordeal had been bad enough, but this time she was actually going to take those revolting objects into her private parts, to accept their seed into her womb. Well, not quite the womb, thanks to her diaphragm, but this would still be adultery, in the most literal sense of the term. And Chuck was making it as ugly as possible. He made her call him "darling" and "sweetheart", and other endearments, and insisted that she take his shaft and actually guide it in with her own hand. And then he made her describe to him every sensation she felt as he entered her and pumped to that revolting climax. One thing, it was well lubricated with Angie's juices, so there was no pain of entry. But the disgust of following her! And Chuck knew what she was thinking, too, pointing out that "this time, it's you who are taking sloppy seconds, Susie dear". One by one, and then for seconds, and in some cases thirds, they ravished her on her own bridal bed, leaving her feeling completely filthy and used. But finally even this agony ended, and the boys started getting dressed. And then they realized that Angie hadn't been taking part in Susie's defilement. Well, not a direct part, anyway. Not since the whipping, that is. "How about you, Angie?" one of the boys said playfully. "We know you don't have the rag on, or you wouldn't have been so willing to warm us up. Aren't you going to take a turn with little Sue-Sue?" Angie smiled, that slow wicked smile that Susie knew meant that she was planning something particularly cruel. "It's OK, fellows," she reassured them. "I'm going to spend the whole night with our little pigeon. And just to make sure that I have a great time, I'm going to ask you to leave the Crushers on her. You can put away the rest of the equipment, though. And don't forget to lock the door when you go out." CHAPTER: 18 AUTHOR: Joy Paine CORRECTED_TEXT: Angie had great plans for Susie's first over-nighter. First, the Frenching, with a violent climax, while she squeezed the Crushers until Susie almost passed out from the agony. Next came the enema. "I don't want you having to get up in the night." She made Susie lie on her own bed for the enema, taunting her with the threat that it would run all over the bed if Susie lost control, and then making her hold it inside her until Susie thought that she was surely going to burst; finally letting her dash for the bathroom, to get rid of the painful and disgusting load. "There now," said Angie. "Now it'll be a couple of days before you have to shit again. And you'll thank me for that, before we're finished." And then to bed. But first, she buckled a collar around Susie's neck, and attached it to a couple of straps that were fastened around her own thighs, holding Susie's face to the younger girl's crotch. "We're going to sleep like this, darling, and Heaven help you if I wake up any time during the night and find that your tongue isn't inside my cunt." The Crushers hurt like fire as Susie lay on her tummy, and the Spiders bit cruelly as her weight pressed on her nipples. She didn't get much sleep that night... In the morning, Angie unbuckled the collar around Susie's neck, and went with her to the bathroom for morning ablutions. For some reason, Angie seemed to be watching the clock. "Oh, I haven't told you yet, Susie dear, -- we're going to have a visitor this morning."Just one last fuck, and then I'll leave you alone for the rest of the weekend. Unless something special comes up," she added as an afterthought. Susie's heart sank, but as always, she had no choice. Angie made her keep the Crushers and Spiders on -- "After all, they might give lover boy some interesting ideas" -- and then made Susie lie down. "This John has some special requirements," Angie crooned. "For one thing, he doesn't want you to know who he is -- after all, he's somebody you know very well -- so you're going to have to wear a blindfold. And of course he can't take any chances on your peeking, so he wants you to be tied up while he screws you." Susie had never felt more helpless than when Angie tied her to the brass bed, arms stretched up over her head, feet drawn up near her wrists, so that her "private parts" (as she insisted on thinking of them, even though her hopes of any privacy were fast disappearing) were exposed to inspection and whatever other indignities her visitor might want to inflict on them. A strap around her waist kept them down near the mattress, however. Angie proceeded to take a number of pictures "for our scrapbook" before she fastened on the blindfold, completing Susie's sense of utter helplessness. And then her "visitor" came in. He squeezed the Crushers and patted the Spiders, abusing her breasts in the way that Susie had come to expect from all men, and then she felt him spreading the lubricating jelly around the lips of her cunt. "Too much!" she thought. "With all that lubrication, he'll take forever to get up enough friction to make him ejaculate." His rape wasn't very imaginative. He just stuck his thing into her and started fucking. She could feel his passion rising, and knew that he was going to come to a quick climax. "Thank God for that." And then he pulled out. "What on earth?" Susie screamed in sheer horror as she felt him ramming his thing, now well lubricated with the jelly and her own sparse juices, into her virgin asshole. The pain was bearable -- just -- but the sheer disgust at this perverted act made Susie want to vomit. But she somehow endured this final indignity, and felt his hot venom pouring into her, into the hole that had never been intended for this disgusting use. And finally he was gone, and Angie was taking off the blindfold and untying her. "I'll let you take off the Crushers yourself -- here's the key to the padlock. It'll be great fun to imagine you reaching around behind your back to unfasten it, especially with the Crushers increasing the pressure as you stretch around. But you'll make it -- you're a big girl now. The Spiders shouldn't give you any trouble at all, although I'll admit that I did use the old-fashioned kind of adhesive tape -- the kind that hurts like hell when you rip it off. "Be sure you stash the equipment in the suitcase. And I'll be over on Monday morning, to help you get dressed for school.""So much more fun," the big woman replied, taking the control from Angie's hand. "Okay, bitch, let's go into the interrogation room." The interrogation room was meagerly furnished, with cabinets running along the wall. The door was soundproof, Susie noticed. The big woman, whom Angie introduced as "the matron", didn't waste any time. "Strip!" she commanded in a hoarse monosyllable. Once more, Susie had to bare her body before a stranger. And then they fastened her wrists to a pair of straps that hung from the ceiling, holding her in an erect position, but loosely enough so she didn't have to rise up on her toes. While Angie fastened Susie's ankles to a pair of rings in the floor, holding her legs spread apart, the matron turned her attention to the Spiders. She quickly understood what they were for, and tormented Susie a bit by pressing them in deeper. She grinned at Susie's cry of pain and protest. "Very neat," she commented. "Your work?" "Mine and Chuck's," Angie replied. "He and I work well as a team." "I'd like to buy a dozen or so of these for use at the club. We have some guests that would go ape over something like that." "No problem," Angie replied. "In fact, maybe you and Chuck could go on our payroll as consultants." "We'd like that," Angie assented. "We just love to design things like this, and I'm sure we could come up with some really great ideas if we could talk to a few of your guests, and maybe watch them party. And maybe we could experiment on some of your hostesses with the more cruel devices. It gets to be pretty tiring being the only guinea pig," she added, rubbing her breasts with remembered pain. "Done!" the big woman said heartily. "And now, Susie baby," she said as she smeared a little lubricating jelly on her fingers, "let's check out the working parts."

16

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/8130.txt

ShadowCleric

Christine

"4:30 p.m. almost home free," I muttered to myself. I glanced around my modest cubicle for any last minute work I needed to complete. No, nothing. Great! Just 30 more minutes of solitaire and I'm free as a bird. Not that I had many plans that weekend. Being a programmer, you get paid well, but women don't exactly fall all over themselves for you, no matter what you looked like. I was in my early 20s, fresh out of college and was a lead programmer with high aspirations. I had only been with the company a few short months, but had managed to solve a few problems that had been plaguing them for quite a while. My computer beeped, indicating I had email. A meeting, now? Damn! I got up and headed over since I had nothing to do to make myself 'fashionably late,' so I went over to the meeting room and grabbed a seat. I waited for a minute or two, and then a woman walked in. Our eyes met and locked. She had such deep blue eyes that spoke to me on a new level. It took me a moment to regain myself. My scope of vision panned out, and I took the rest of her in. She was medium height, around 5'5". Her hair was brown with traces of gray. Her face was soft and had only a few wrinkles. The rest of her looked like a 26-year-old model. Her breasts were large and firm, DD cups, barely contained in her silk blouse. Her hips were wide but muscular. She dropped a notebook on the table and turned around and left. I could see the firmness of her ass when she walked. She came back shortly, wearing a blue jacket that matched her skirt. She had on nude pantyhose and blue high heels. Seeing the heels, I mentally adjusted her height to 5'4". "Hi," she said with a proffered hand, "I'm Christine Masterson. And you are?" "Dave Blake," I managed. "Ah! The new programmer, I've been wanting to meet you." "Really?" "Yes, I like to know everyone in my department." Department? I thought. Oh, shit! She's the vice-president of our department. I've been ogling her? Quickly, I adjusted my mannerisms to appropriate levels. Thinking quickly, "A VP? You? How'd you pull that off so young?" I mentioned honestly (I thought she was 30ish). "How sweet. I'm 47, dearie, but that silver tongue won't get you far. But it doesn't hurt." We chatted for a few minutes. I noticed a ring on her hand, and my heart sank. I actually wanted this woman, twice my age! It was very strange for me. Lacking new conversation ammunition, I asked her how long she'd been married. Her demeanor changed noticeably. She'd been married for 15 years, but it was obvious she wasn't happy with it. I changed the subject again to the meeting at hand. "Oh, I just wanted an update on how everything was going." I filled her in on my unit, and she seemed pleased. I tossed some ideas out that my boss had shot down, and she really liked them. Boy, was my boss going to be pissed! Finally, a few other programmers showed up, late. Christine looked at her watch, not happy. "How about we adjourn, go home, get out of these monkey suits, and meet over at Mickey's Pub and finish up there?" I quickly interjected. "Managerial thinking, Dave," Christine said. Everyone quickly agreed that we'd meet back at Mickey's in 30 minutes. I lived fairly close to work, so I got home, threw on some jeans, sneakers, and a T-shirt. I grabbed a hat, realizing my hair was a mess, and my varsity jacket from my college days and headed out. It only took me 10 minutes, but for some reason, Christine beat me there. It turns out she keeps a change of clothes so she doesn't have to drive home in her suits. Made sense to me. She was in a ball cap as well, hair ponytailed back. She had on a T-shirt as well, tight (and I mean tight) jeans, and some cute shoes. She had ordered a beer, so I did the same. We put two away apiece before the remaining slackers showed up. They gave their reports and excused themselves. I guess hanging out with the big cheese, no matter how sexy she was, just wasn't cool. I stayed and had a few more with Christine. After a few, she got really relaxed. We were in a booth, and I didn't realize it at first, but we had gotten quite close to each other. Finally, the bills on our hats hit, and we laughed. "I know I'm gonna get fired for this, but what the hell," I said as I tilted my head and kissed her. She didn't flinch. In fact, she welcomed it and kissed me back very passionately. "Christine, what about your husband?" She looked out across the table wistfully. "It's been over for us for years, Dave. In fact, I know he's been boffing his secretary for quite some time. I don't know why she'd want his little boy-prick, but they do it nearly every weekend at our beach house. Guess it was time I moved on with my life," she pulled her ring off and dropped it in an empty beer glass, "Oops, now I've gone and lost my ring. Guess I'm a free woman now." I smiled and kissed her again, this time with more vigor than before. We touched and kissed for what felt like hours. I had my hand on her thigh and moved it slowly up until I was caressing her mound. My cock ached in my jeans. I slid a hand up her shirt and was fondling her tits in her bra when a waitress politely told us to get a room. Realizing she was right, we got up and paid our tab. We went outside and stared at each other. "Christine, I want you so badly right now." "Dave, I want you to fuck my brains out, so I guess all we need to do is figure out where." "How 'bout my place. In case your hubby comes down with a case of impotence and decides to come home early." "Managerial thinking, Dave." My house was a two-bedroom affair, typical for a bachelor. Christine looked around admiringly. "Nice place." "Thanks," I said and scooped her up and took her to the bedroom. "So strong too!" Quickly, I pulled off my shirt and kissed her some more. Then I took her shoes off. I pulled her jeans off with some considerable effort (I mentioned tight, did I not). She had on silk bikini panties that accentuated her hips. I could see her dampness under the thin material. Next, her hat and the band that was holding her hair up. She shook out her hair, the gray looking so nice. I pulled her shirt off and tossed it aside. Hungry for her breasts, I removed her bra, releasing those massive tits to me. They were firm and full. Her nipples were erect, and her areolas were dark like her hair. I bent down and licked and sucked her large globes. She moaned and sighed with both pleasure and relief. My guess was she hadn't been satisfied in a long time. I pulled her panties off, leaving her nude except for the ankle socks I had left on. Her pubic hair was dark as well, with just a few flecks of gray. She crossed her hands at the wrists and pulled herself open to me. "Take me, please. I need it so bad!" "I'm in no hurry," I said, lowering my head to her spread womanhood, "why should you be?" And with that, I buried my face into her crotch. I licked and probed Christine's pussy. She moaned with delight. "I've never felt this good. Ooooooooh!" She cried as her legs tightened around me. I could taste her cum flowing out like a river from her soul. I lapped it up, relishing her orgasm. Finally, I let up, letting her catch her breath while I finished undressing. She stared at my swollen shaft in disbelief. I wasn't huge, but I guess compared to her husband, I was hung like a bear. I moved over to the counter and pulled out a condom. "Don't worry about that, my love. I'm 'taken care of,'" she said with a knot-tying motion of her hands. Tossing the prophylactic away, I went over and pulled her socks off. I wanted her completely nude for this. I stared at her. Forty-seven years old? I just couldn't believe it. Belief or no, here was a beautiful woman, naked, and wanting me. Not just wanting, needing me. I laid down atop her form and kissed her deeply. I felt her legs part beneath me, and the tip of my cock became wet with her juices. I pressed into her; I could feel her tense, so I kissed her again. Christine relaxed, and I pushed more of my shaft into her. I was reminded of my first time. Her pussy was so much like that of my girlfriend in high school. It was odd how they could be 30 years apart in age and so alike. I felt what I could only imagine was her hymen. I paused momentarily, then pressed through. She let out a soft scream and sighed, letting that pass. I continued into her until I had sheathed myself completely within her. I could feel myself stretching her pussy, and she was reveling in it. I pulled out and pressed back in.She was very tight, and I didn't know how long I could hold back. I repeated my thrusts again and again until we found our rhythm. I stared into her eyes, lost myself within them, until I watched her next orgasm explode within her. I was hypnotized by the dance in her deep blue eyes, which managed to make her cum several more times until I felt my own body tense and my balls erupt their seed into her. I moaned and shuddered as I came for a solid minute. Exhausted, I collapsed into her ample bosom, breathing in her scent and suckling her breasts. I dozed for a time and awoke with a raging hard-on. I glanced at the clock, 11:32 p.m. Christine was asleep on her tummy, her legs spread and face smiling. I moved over her and pressed my cock into her still-wet pussy. She moaned as I pressed myself into her. She awoke, startled, then realizing it was only me, she arched her back into my cock as I fucked her hole again and again. I gave her a couple more orgasms before I spilled my cum into her a second time. She relaxed again. I was still horny as a teenager. I pulled out and rolled to my side. I parted her ass cheeks, and at first, she protested. My finger up her anus silenced her reservations. She moaned and squealed with delight as I pressed her ass open to me. My cock, still dripping wet, was as hard as ever. I rolled her onto me, pulling her ass cheeks as wide as possible and positioning my cock at her anus. "Dave, I don't know about...Oh, fuck yes!" She never finished that sentence as my wet shaft went easily down her asshole. "Oh, fuck my ass, Dave! Oh, God, yes!" I grabbed a tit in each hand as I continued sodomizing her backside. We kept this up until she came and then I did (what little was left in me that is). I rolled her back onto her front and pumped her some more. The screams of her next orgasm were muffled into the pillows. Feeling her go limp, I pulled out of her. Seeing I needed a wash, I got up and showered. When I came back, she was sound asleep. I slid into bed with her and drifted off to sleep. I awoke to the sound of bacon frying and the one-of-a-kind smell that goes with it. I was fully erect again, but starved from no dinner and several sexual encounters. I got up and, not bothering to get dressed, went into the kitchen. Christine was in the dress shirt I had on yesterday and nothing else. I watched her finish up and then sneaked up behind her, pressing my hard-on into her ass. "Morning, sweets." "Morning," I said, kissing her on the cheek and rubbing myself harder into her. "Oh, I love sausage in the morning!" I unbuttoned her shirt and bent her over the couch. I pressed her down with my hand and with the other forced my cock into her waiting cunt. "I'm such a slut for wanting you so badly! Talk dirty to me, baby." "Oh, your cunt feels so fucking good!" "Yes, more!" "Oh, you slutty bitch! I love fucking your hole!" "Fuck me, yes!" "You fucking whore, this what you want?" as I rammed myself into her over and over. "Harder! Fuck your whore harder!" My hips started slapping her ass. "Oh, you fucking bitch! Your pussy feels so fucking good!" "Yes, that's it! Oh, fuck yes! Yes! Yes! YES!" I could feel a violent orgasm overtake her. I was nearing my end, but wanted her more. I pulled out and pressed down into her anus. "Oh, fuck! That's wonderful!" "Mmm, your ass is so tight!" "Oh, Dave! Fuck my tight ass. Fuck me like the bitch I am! Cum down my butt. I know you need it! Do it! Oh, God, yes! AAGH!!!" Her scream sent me over the edge, and I gushed cum down her hole until it filled her and spilled back out over my legs. I pulled out, rolled her over, and kissed her. She was old enough to be my mother, but I loved her. I loved her for everything she was and...everything she wasn't. Pure and wonderful. Later that day, she noticed my camera and video camera. With a devilish look in her eyes: "Wanna do something really kinky?" "Like we haven't already? But if you want a record of this weekend, be my guest." "No, silly! Let's go and get my husband. I know where he's at, and proof of him bouncing that blonde bimbo of a secretary will make the divorce that much easier." I gave her a suspicious look. "Ok...ok...and more profitable for me." "As long as you're being honest with yourself." That night, we climbed into her Camaro and headed for the beach. When we got within a half-mile of the beach house, she cut the lights and the engine. We climbed out and walked the rest of the distance. The beach house was nice, mostly glass since it was fairly secluded. It was one story, so the bedroom was easily visible. We had our timing just right - little Miss Blondie had just come out of the bathroom in some sort of business suit, and there was her husband, Frank, waiting naked in bed. We quickly set up the tripod and started recording. I whispered to Christine: "You sure you want to watch this?" "Honey, after you, this is all comic relief." "OK." The secretary started her little strip tease, starting with her glasses and jacket. Then her skirt, shoes, and blouse. She had on a crotchless teddy and was striding over to Frank. When he pulled down the sheets, I could see why he'd never broken her membranes. He was only 4-5 inches and about as thick as a hot dog. He got up and pressed her over the bed and forced himself into her. She was sexy, in a sleazy bimbo way, but from the look on her face, she was miles away. When he muttered something about her needing to brace herself, she rolled her eyes. When he finally penetrated her, she screamed and moaned, but her face was one of boredom and discontent. Christine smiled. The secretary was only there to act as a semen receptacle. She was just letting him fuck her for her job. It was all over very quickly. She faked three orgasms within the minute or two he was at work. Frank staggered over to the bed and collapsed in a heap. The secretary got up and went to the bathroom. Locking the door, she sat on the counter and fucked herself off. Finally content, she went back and laid in bed with her small lover. "Got enough?" I asked. "More than enough." Christine filed for divorce that Monday. He insisted on an ugly legal battle, and the tape was made public, very public. She got most of his estate...including the beach house. We continued relations for a few years, then, deciding she'd had enough with corporate life, promoted me to her old position and retired. She hired me a new secretary before I left, Jessica, the blonde bimbo, ironically. Christine was concerned because Jessica couldn't find a job after the scandal, and she wanted me to be with someone my own age. Jessica became a very good assistant and a wonderful lover. We make a great team. We call on Christine every summer at the beach house where we laugh at all our past. We never heard from Frank again. We heard a rumor about him trying for political office, but that was never confirmed.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11519.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 up stairs 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 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. "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.

Part 1

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/7109.txt

Steven A. Black

Love At First Byte

"You know, Andy, this all started so innocently," I thought to myself... In a lot of ways, I'm a lot like Julia Roberts in the movie "Pretty Woman"...when it comes to love, I've always wanted the fairy tale. I know that's pretty unusual for a guy, but I've never been the type of guy that has liked the idea of sleeping around. It isn't me at all. Little did I know that about a few years ago, my one and only dalliance would end up changing my life forever. During the days I was in college in the Midwest, you would have thought, as most people did, that I was the typical bookworm. I didn't go out much, and I really didn't have the desire to. In fact, some people took that to mean I was gay. I wasn't, by any stretch of the imagination. I *had* a lover...it's just nobody else knew who she was, because she was never there. Allow me to explain. Several years before, I had become a member of a local bulletin board service in my hometown, and it was there that I had met Angela. She was a sweet girl, though somewhat troubled, and my heart, for whatever reason, just reached out to her and said, "You're the one." We fell in love online, met a few months later (in what was a rather torrid weekend in her family's mountain cabin--surprisingly so, considering we never actually went "all the way"), and continued our relationship when I went off to college in the Midwest. Unfortunately, Angela's school obligations wouldn't allow her to take enough time off to come visit me, and since I was relying on financial aid for my schooling, I didn't exactly have the pocket money to come out to visit her, as much as I'd have liked to. So, we had a long-distance relationship for some time. This caused us a lot of problems. Angela is fiercely loyal to me, and doesn't even *dream* of anyone else, let alone pursue anything. So, I suppose it's natural that she expected I do the same in return. Unfortunately, I had a much harder time with that idea than either of us thought. I finally told her, "Look, I love you, Angela, but I can't sit here and count the days waiting for you. I have to live my own life." So we reached a compromise...we agreed that, at least for the time we spent away from each other until we were engaged, we would allow each other to see other people. Now, I'm 6'1", about 220 pounds, but back then I weighed closer to 235, and I had enough flab where I didn't think of myself as all that attractive, so I didn't expect anything to happen. Eventually, however, I developed a new diversion...computers. And I didn't know it at the time, but it was here that I would meet one of the few true loves I've ever had in my life. I discovered newsgroups in my sophomore year, when my college first got hooked up to the Internet with them. Once I figured out how to use them, I started becoming a regular to several of them, and developed several close friendships and business contacts that I still have to this day. One day, in the middle of the summer, I was scanning my e-mail box when I received a letter from someone I had vaguely seen on one of the groups, named only "Desire". Curious as hell, I quickly scanned the letter. In part, it read: "Dear Andrew, "I've been taking a look at some of the things you've written over the last few weeks, and I must say, I can't help but admire some of the things you've said. I can't help sometimes but think about making a point, look at something you've written, then just point to it and say, "*nod* What he said." You strike me as being a very intelligent man, and I hope that you stick around, because this group *needs* someone like you." From here, "Desire" went on to respond to one of my posts, but by that point I wasn't all that interested in what this person had to say about a mere *post*. Not only was the name provocative (I mean, "Desire"? If you can't be provoked by that, you must be dead), but when I finally got around to reading the reply, it was quickly apparent that this person was exceedingly intelligent, with a keen sense of humor that I found very disarming. Plus, I was very flattered by the comments about me. I *do* flatter easily. Thus, a friendship was born. "Desire" was very secretive at first, as was I. I had no idea why the mystery on the other side of the terminal, but I knew exactly why I was hiding things. I'd been burned once before by somebody who had taken all of my secrets and basically spread them all over the place, even going so far as to take an alias to do so. For all I knew, it might have been the same person all over again. Why play all my cards? Finally, after what can best be described as a two-week cat-and-mouse game, I finally began to learn more about this person. Her name was Diane, and she described herself as "the world's first non-boring accountant." She worked for a major firm in New York City, and said she had managed to become one of the few women in her particular company to make it near the top "on my merits, rather than my looks." Needless to say, I liked her already. It was during this time that Angela and I had begun to start fighting. I had been close friends with a woman at my college named Leslie, who had been one of the people who really had done wonders to help me get through a difficult year. We definitely had feelings for each other, but we both knew that we couldn't act on them in any reasonable manner. I told Angela the truth about this, and it made her upset. She began to get scared, talking about how she was worried that I was going to leave her. And this began to cause a few problems for me, because I wondered what that said about her trust in me. Remember, all of this was *after* our agreement that we could see other people if we wanted. Apparently, Diane could sense this, because she asked me if there was something wrong in my life about a week after the fighting started. I told her some of the details, without mentioning names, and said to her, "My biggest problem with Angela right now is that I don't feel like she's being honest. Honesty, in a relationship, is something that's important to me, and I don't seem to be getting any of it." After a couple of exchanges similar to this, I began to see Diane as quite a close friend. I felt like I could talk about anything with her and not be judged. A few days later, however, she sent me the following message, attached to the end of her reply to one of my letters: "Andrew, I think it's time we talked," Diane said in the e-mail. "I have to tell you, all this talk about honesty has given me a bit of a conscience attack. I'm not sure you're going to be ready for this, but I hope you'll be able to understand and look at me in the same way. "To put it simply: I'm a polyamorous pervert. I have relationships already with several different people, and among other things, I'm in a local BDSM group and write pornographic short stories for profit. "I will understand if you decide that you don't want to talk to me anymore, I really will...just let me know one way or the other. "Love, Diane." I can't say that I wasn't surprised by this, because I obviously was. But why would she think I would somehow be repulsed by it, when I had clearly demonstrated to her that all I wanted was freedom? I asked Diane to call me that night, and she did. I must tell you, for lack of a face, the thing that *really* attracts me to someone is their voice...and hers was one of the most melodious, beautiful voices I'd ever heard in my life. Once I got over that, I told her point blank that I wasn't about to go anywhere, and that she could count on me for a long time as long as she kept being honest with me. Having been so reassured, Diane began to be, well...a little more daring.She sent me several of the stories that had been published, all of which were incredibly good and incredibly detailed. Her emails began to be increasingly flirtatious, which I returned in kind, being something of a natural flirt myself. By this point, we had made a point to email each other at least a couple times a day. Finally, one evening, Diane, in email, finally asked me the question that I never really thought I'd hear: "So tell me, Andrew," she wrote. "Just what *is* the status of your relationship with Angela?" There it was, in black and white. Was I available? I thought about it for a minute before I wrote my reply to her, and my mind kept coming back to the agreement that Angela and I had made a long time ago to see others, when she said, "I can trust you, and you can put your trust in me. Everything else is details." I made my decision, and told Diane that Angela and I were in an open relationship. Everything began to progress rapidly after that. When it had become clear that Diane and I were going to be emailing each other for quite some time, I began to tell Angela a little bit about her. She made it emphatically clear that she didn't like Diane in the least, and kept asking me why I would ever want to talk to her. Things were beginning to deteriorate between Angela and I, and I didn't understand it. Finally, I got a letter in the mail one day, with no return address on it. I opened the letter, and to my surprise, I found a four-day itinerary, with a note on the back saying, "Guess who's coming to dinner in three weeks? Love, Diane." Needless to say, I was *incredibly* happy. Also inside were three pictures of her, one of her face and two "full-figure" shots. And believe me, what a figure it was. She stood about 5'6" and weighed about 135 pounds, and looked closer to 20 than 30. Her face was freckled, and she wore glasses, but she was *hardly* ugly. Underneath the freckles and glasses was, to put it bluntly, the face of a goddess. Her shorts showed off firmly muscled, yet gracefully long, smooth legs, and with her shirt tucked in, her breasts became rather prominent. If I wasn't in love before, I certainly was now. With Diane now coming to visit, I thought that I should tell Angela a little more about just how far my relationship with Diane was going. Unfortunately, I didn't get to say anything about it. My roommate, an exchange student from Japan, found me in the computer lab about a week later, and insisted that I come up to the room and answer the phone. "Your girlfriend has been calling for the last hour," he said, "and she keeps telling me she's not going to stop calling until I come and get you. So come back up before I go nuts." Wondering what the heck was going on, I went back to the room and answered the phone, which had started ringing yet again. The next thing I heard was Angela reading me one of Diane's more flirtatious letters to me. Somehow, Angela had gone into a jealous rage and had broken into my computer account. Needless to say, the next two hours consisted of a lot of screaming, yelling, crying and whining on both sides of the phone, with her talking about how I'd betrayed her (never mind that nothing had *happened* yet) and me yelling at her to get off my back and let me live my own life. After that ordeal was over, I called Diane and told her just how bad the situation was, and she seemed to understand just how I felt. Or so I thought. After spending the rest of the day fixing my own personal computer, I hooked up to the Net from my dorm room, and found the following letter waiting for me in my mailbox from Diane: "Dear Andrew, "Through everything we've said to each other to this point, I have always trusted that you had my best interests at heart. I have really taken the time to believe in you, to trust in you, and to understand some of the difficulties you have had in your relationship with Angela. And I think I've done a good job in doing so. "But what you told me of today's argument with her really made me sit down and think. All things considered, I think I have that right. And I'm not so sure I like what I see anymore. "You told me that you have been in an open relationship for a while now; yet she gets angry at the very mention of me, so much so that she decides she has to break into your account. You tell me that you don't believe she has a fundamental problem with what you feel for me; yet clearly, she does. "So, what's a grown woman supposed to think? There's only two things that I can think, Andrew: either you have been *vastly* misled by Angela and her feelings about what she thinks your relationship should be...or, you have been lying, to one or both of us. I don't want to believe the latter, but my paranoid side is kicking in, and it's usually pretty good. "I am hurt, and I am angry, and I think you need to give me a very good reason why I should trust you and stay with you. Otherwise, I should leave. Sometimes *that* is what loyalty to others, and oneself, really means." I was now faced with the possibility of losing two people I had come to care about more than anything else in the world in the same day. But the more I looked at the letter, I could see that Diane was almost begging for support. "Reach out to me," she was saying. "Let me believe in you." A couple of hours later was the weekly IRC session that our newsgroup was having. Angry, depressed, and quite stressed out, I logged on, and quickly found Diane. Within about two minutes, we had moved over to our own private IRC channel, and began at least trying to talk things out. After about two hours or so of trying to get her to understand that I wasn't trying to hurt anyone, things looked like they were beginning to fall through. "You don't *understand*, do you?" Diane wrote. "I...I don't know what to feel right now. I feel like I'm on the edge of a cliff hanging on by my fingers, waiting for somebody to either rescue me or throw me over." "I do understand!" I replied. "I've been trying to rescue you for the past two hours, and I don't know what more I can do--you won't *let* me!" "Maybe it would be easier for all of us if you just said goodbye, Andy," she said. "I mean that. Maybe it would be better for everyone involved." "But how am I supposed to do *that*?" I asked, hoping that the pleading I was feeling in my heart was getting through. "Easy. Say goodbye," was the reply I got. I began feeling more desperate. "But I can't *do* that!" I said. "I just can't!" I really couldn't explain why I kept pursuing it, other than because I felt the whole situation was a misunderstanding and that I felt if we just talked long enough, everything would be all right. Diane's reply was a simple, "Why not?" And just then, it struck me. I knew exactly why not. "Because I think I'm falling in love with you." A long pause. Then: "You know, it amazes me that all you men seem to think that you can behave any way you want to and then say I love you and expect everything to magically work itself out? You can't *do* that, don't you understand that? Telling me isn't enough!" I was furious. I wasn't used to being treated like that by anybody, and considering the rest of the day I had, I wasn't about to take too kindly to being told that I was a manipulator. So I let Diane have it. "GODDAMN IT!" I wrote her. "I can't believe what I'm hearing from you! I don't *ever* say things like that to manipulate people. I can't do that! If that was what I was trying to do, do you *really* think I'd have stuck around here for three hours listening to you try to make some excuse to get out of the relationship? "I'm still here because I love you, and I'm not about to go anywhere, so you might as well get that through your head right now. Maybe I've made some mistakes in my time, but falling for you is NOT one of them...and deep down in your heart, you know it too, or else you wouldn't even be here right now!" Another long pause. For a split second, I thought I'd gone too far, and that the next message would be that Diane had signed off and left, and that would be the end of it. Then I saw her reply. "Andrew?" "Yes?" "Do you remember what I said before, about feeling like I was on the edge of a cliff?", she said. "Yes?", I replied, now nearly breathless with anticipation. "Could you pull me up?" In an instant, it was as if the two of us were in a cyberspace world of our own design, in a cyber-desert, complete with a canyon that the two of us were perilously close to the edge of. I pulled her up so that she was out of danger, and the two of us headed off in the direction of a shade tree, looking to catch our breath. Diane took my hand and placed it on her heart, and held it there, with a loving look in her eyes. I could see her face as surely as it was in the pictures she had sent me, and as she described the scene to me, it was becoming clear that she was as incredibly turned on as I was by everything that had happened. On the screen, her typing became much more garbled, almost as if her hands were trembling as she typed. Diane held me close, and turned her face upwards to meet mine. Our kisses were tentative at first, but began to grow in strength and desire as we felt an incredible need for each other deep within ourselves. Her fingers began to trace a line down my spinal column, and I could feel the shudders involuntarily coursing through my body as my shorts began to get tighter and tighter on me. Our shirts came off with ease, and were tossed aside quickly. My hands traveled quickly to her breasts, and she arched her back and moaned with incredible pleasure. She placed me so that my back was against the shade tree, and told me to keep my arms locked around the trunk of the tree. She then went to work on my pants, undoing them and almost ripping them off in a frenzied passion.Slowly, but with great difficulty in controlling herself, she pulled my underwear off and slowly began to stroke me, one hand on my chest, the other lightly curled around my manhood. Diane leaned over, without any warning, and started to bathe my cock with her tongue, lapping around the head first, then slowly curling her tongue and lightly grazing the underside of my shaft in an up-and-down motion. After a moment, she plunged her entire mouth down over the full length of me and began bobbing her head, taking me all the way in and nearly all the way out before going back down again. I was in heaven. I mean, I knew it was only on the screen, and not real, but why could I see the scene in front of me? And why could I literally feel the sensations? I pushed those questions to the back of my mind...I didn't care at this point. All I wanted to concentrate on were the lips wrapped around my full length, and the fingers that were tickling my balls, and the love that I knew I was feeling in my heart for Diane. I stopped her and turned her over onto her back so that she was looking up at the sky, with her hands in a similar position to where mine were, wrapped around the base of the shade tree. I quickly took her pants off and began kissing my way down her body, avoiding her most sensitive areas, then took my sweet time licking my way up her thighs, higher and higher, until finally I reached my destination. I ran two fingers along the entrance to her cunt, then gently pushed them inside of her as my tongue and my lips latched on to her clit. With a free hand, I slowly began caressing her breasts and tweaking her nipples with my fingers, and her on-screen reactions quickly became those of a woman in want, in need of someone to take her, to make wild passionate love to her... Diane, after what seemed like an eternity, stopped me and turned over so that our bodies were pressed together. I kissed her breasts slowly, and it was clear that she loved it, but she gently moved me away from her for a moment. She locked my lips in a wonderful kiss and wrapped her legs around me. She let loose just for an instant so that she could grasp my rigidness in her hand...and in one fluid motion, lowered herself onto me, inch by inch, until I was buried inside of her. Diane and I just sat there for a moment, locked in a loving embrace, savoring the feelings we were both having...then, ever so slowly, she started to bounce up and down on me, gripping me with the walls of her sex. As she did so, she began to rotate her hips, coating every side of my manhood with her juices, and she ground her hips against my pelvis. My hips began bucking upwards as she rolled herself against me, so that I went deeper and deeper inside of her. Deep down, neither one of us knew we could last very long. Before long, I was screaming wildly, bucking my hips like there was no tomorrow, and I could almost feel my body pressed against hers, arms locked around me as she orgasmed a moment later. I looked down...and realized exactly what was going on. There wasn't anybody there. The screen was clear, but my hands were coated with my own come. It was almost as if I'd had an out of body experience, and I began to wonder if it had really happened. Then my other line rang. I quickly wiped off and answered the phone. It was Diane. "Did what I think just happened happen?" I said, clearly trying to compose myself. Diane softly gave me her reply. "Yes, it did," she said. "More than I think you realize," she added, with a little giggle at the end. "That seemed so real, you know," I said, very much relieved and relaxed now. "It was almost as if we were there, actually making love." "I know," Diane said, as I began to hear a short, tired sob at the other end of the line. "I want this so much to *be*...Andy, please be for real..." "I will be," I said. "I promise you that...and I never make a promise I can't keep..." The next two weeks were a blur. As Diane's arrival grew closer, it was becoming clear to everyone around me that something magical was happening to me. Not that anyone knew what it was, mind you...but there was no doubt that there was *something* that was on my mind. My long-time friend Catherine, one of the few people who I can honestly say knows me as well as I know myself, took one look at me during the French class we were taking and instantly knew something was up. "OK, what's her name?" she said, with a grin on her face. "And what, pray tell, are you talking about?" I said playfully. "You know exactly what I'm talking about, Andrew," Catherine said, grinning even wider now. "You've been walking around for the last week or so with a look on your face like you just got the best blowjob of your life." "None could be as good as yours, dear," I replied, winking. We had a tendency to be somewhat flirtatious; it was in both of our natures. With her, I felt safe doing that; she was already engaged to be married to her sweetheart, Mike, who also happened to be my best friend, and we both had no real interest in each other; still, it was fun to pretend. "I'll make sure and tell Mike how impressed you are," Catherine said, winking back. "So tell me about her. What's she like? Who *is* it, for that matter?" "Well, I'm not *entirely* sure," I said. "We haven't even met yet." She started to answer, then paused, and looked at me like I'd just lapsed into Swedish. "Haven't *met* yet?" she asked. "Ooh, this *is* an interesting one. Oh well, I guess it wouldn't be you if it wasn't weird." She laughed. "So, when's the big meeting?" "Tomorrow," I said. "I told her that I'll be the one standing at the end of the driveway at the dorm with a New York Times in one hand and a red rose in the other." She laughed loudly at that. "Dear God, aren't *you* the hopeless romantic," Catherine said. "Listen, I've gotta run...Philosophy exam in 15 minutes. Lovely." Before she left, however, she kissed my cheek and looked closely at me. "Andrew...do me a favor, OK?" she said, softly. "Don't go forgetting about Angela. She loves you, no matter what, and I know you feel the same way about her. If nothing else, just play safe and come home safe, hmm? I don't want anything to happen to you...you know that." I nodded. "I know, Catherine," I said. "You're a special friend to me, and I value your advice, and your friendship. I won't let anything bad happen, OK?" We hugged and said our goodbyes...and I resumed being incredibly anxious for the next day. It was a short night of sleep, because try as I might, I couldn't get the erotic dreams of Diane out of my mind. It was almost as if she was an angel that guided me by day and seduced me by night. In one dream, we would be making love by a babbling brook; in another, we might be cuddling in a park; in still another, we might be engaging in one of her BDSM fantasies. I woke up early, on what was a *perfect* Saturday morning. I showered and quickly picked out some clothes...she insisted that we make the meeting casual, so neither one of us would have to feel too pressured. So, I picked out a button-down shirt with the college logo over the breast pocket with nice shorts, and pretty much left it at that. I walked over to the florist that was nearby and picked up the rose and the newspaper...after all, I was going to have to keep my promises. At about 11:00, I waited outside for her, knowing that she was still at least 20 minutes away but not wanting to spend the time cooped up in my room either. Finally, at 11:30, a red Subaru pulled up in the driveway, just as we had arranged. She stopped the car and got out...and immediately I knew why she had chosen the name "Desire" for her handle. Any man who *didn't* desire her from the first moment was either blind or stupid, and probably both. She wore a bright, sunny yellow shirt tucked into a pair of casual pants, with her shoulder-length reddish-brown hair draped nicely around a tanned, gorgeous face. I knew this *had* to be Diane. We hugged, and immediately started catching each other up on the previous few days...an idea abruptly halted by the sounds of at least a half-dozen car horns that were blaring for Diane to kindly get the hell out of the way. We laughed, and I presented her with both the paper and the rose as we headed to the hotel to check her in. "I swear, I've never seen so many cows in one state in my *life*!" she said, giggling. "I began to wonder on the way in here if you actually had any people living here." I chuckled. "Well, I'm sure that the people, wherever they may be, are fairly nice folks," I said, just as the hotel clerk handed her the key to her room. "You're so silly," she said. "Come on." I helped her unpack, and with some difficulty we managed to enter the room. It wasn't exactly the Taj Mahal, but then, Diane was on a budget, so we couldn't exactly *afford* the Taj Mahal, either. I set her things down, and went over and just collapsed on the bed. By this point, I actually was beginning to be a little exhausted from all the excitement I felt. We kept talking for a while, but both of us began to fidget around, trying to make small talk. We continued trying even as she joined me on the bed, and by this time I could feel myself literally starting to shake. Not in hunger for food, though I was actually in need of something to eat...but in hunger for Diane. My fingers gently stroked her hand, which was pushing down on the bed because she was using that arm for support. At that point, we stopped worrying a whole lot about talking, and gazed deeply into each others' eyes. I think Diane and I both knew what was going to happen next, but we almost subconsciously kept trying to steer around it. Finally, our faces drifted closer and closer to each other, and we kissed...lightly at first, but with ever growing passion.Up to this point, we had been constantly flirting with each other, talking about what we wanted, but as we kissed each other for the first time, I realized that we had no real agenda or timetable for how far we wanted to go. I decided that the best thing to do was for the two of us to take things as slowly as we could. Diane drew my tongue into her mouth, and her arms wrapped around my rather ample figure, slowly caressing my back. My hand came up behind her head and started stroking her hair, as we continued to kiss for what seemed like forever. As if on cue, we pulled away slowly for a moment. "Do you know now that I'm real?" I whispered. She thought for a moment, then nodded and replied, "Yeah...you're real." After a few more kisses, we went out to lunch at a nearby local restaurant. It was funny...now that we seemed to understand where the other person was coming from, the tension that had been there just didn't seem to be there anymore. It was a truly wonderful feeling, holding the hand of a woman I knew I loved and that I knew loved me for who I was, not some image of what I was supposed to be. After lunch, I directed Diane to a place that was a fairly good distance away. I'm not exactly a nature buff, but I do like going back to it every once in a while, and there is a state park about 15 miles from the college that I go to whenever I really start feeling sorry for myself and just want to get away from all the bad things around me. After getting lost about three times on the way there, we finally arrived. We began hiking through what was an immense forest, which end-to-end is at least 50 acres or so. (We weren't about to hike the whole thing, mind you, but it gives an idea of how big it is.) We followed one particular trail under a rocky bridge with at least 5000 bats that had made a permanent home there. From there, we took a long, winding trail deep into the forest, and we finally came to a stop near my "secret" spot, a clearing that bordered right on a duck pond where I often stopped and just thought through my problems. By this point, Diane and I didn't even need words to know what the other person was thinking. We kissed again, deeper and with more gusto than at our hotel room earlier, and with even more longing than I had ever really expected to feel. My right hand traveled up to her left breast, and I slowly began to rub it through her shirt. Her legs began to get very wobbly, and I supported her by placing my free hand in the small of her back, keeping her somewhat upright as I continued to caress her. Groans of intense pleasure began coming out of her mouth at that point, and clearly she was enjoying every minute of the attention I was giving her. After a short time to let her recover, we began to retrace our steps and head back to the car. We were amazed to discover by the time we had gotten back that we'd spent a full two and a half hours in the forest. As a result, I couldn't help but whisper in Diane's ear, "Time sure flies when you're having fun, doesn't it?" She just smiled. We drove around in the countryside for a couple of hours before she finally decided to drop me off at my dorm while she went and got changed for dinner. "Do you want me to meet you back here in half an hour?" she asked. "That depends," I said. "Will it be worth it?" Diane winked, and said, "You have *no* idea..." Quickly, I dashed up to my room and changed into my nice clothes. It was the one suit I owned, complete with a sport coat I'd had to *borrow* from a friend of mine that, believe it or not, did more for the outfit than the original sport coat. I had just finished getting everything ready when I heard a car horn off in the distance. Since I know firsthand the evils of keeping a lady waiting, I dashed down the stairs...and saw a goddess waiting for me at the car. It wasn't so much what she revealed as what she didn't reveal that made Diane look so ravishing. She wore a woman's button-down shirt, open just enough at the top to make one wonder and wish, with a black, flowered vest buttoned up to just below her breasts over the shirt. All of this was tucked into a very tight set of pants, which showed just enough of the outline of her legs to make a man drool. "So," Diane said, striking a pose for me. "Ready?" "For *what*?" I asked, with more than a hint of desire in my voice. She giggled, and we began to kiss again. As my hand reached up for her breast again, she lovingly but firmly pushed it down and said, "Andy, if you don't stop right now, we're never going to make it to dinner." As I looked into Diane's eyes, I could see a glimpse of touchiness...but also one of pure animal lust. "I like that look," I thought to myself. We went and dined at Churchill's, one of the great places to eat that I've ever been to. We sipped champagne, talked and ate for what seemed like an eternity. (With the service, it nearly *was*.) After a while, we finally got out of there, and seeing that it was going to thunderstorm fairly quickly, we headed back to Diane's hotel room. I tossed my sports coat over on one of the chairs in the room, and she tossed her vest over onto another one, and we both began to watch a soccer match that happened to be playing on the television in the room. Diane quickly tired of that, though, and she turned to me with the most loving look in her eyes. She gently caressed my cheek, and pulled my face down to hers. We began to kiss, as we had been doing earlier. There was an eagerness in her that I had not seen up until now, even earlier that day in the park. But as we kissed, she pulled back for a moment and whispered, "I don't want to rush you, Andy." "I know," I said. So, it seemed fairly obvious to me that she wanted to take this slowly...and with three more days in the trip, I wasn't about to take too many chances now. Still, I wasn't about to be totally unadventurous. My lips started exploring her, kissing her neck and traveling down her chest, though avoiding her breasts for the moment. Diane eagerly did the same, flickering her tongue all over my neck and as much of my skin as she could reach, eliciting moans and gasps from every sensitive portion on my body. She played my body like a violin, and she was a virtuoso at doing so. I slipped my shoes off quickly, and continued kissing Diane for what seemed like hours. I wanted to see more of her, so I eased up for a moment and slowly unbuttoned her shirt. I eased it off her shoulders and tossed it off to the side. I wasn't really prepared to unhook her bra just yet...after all, I figured if we're going to take it slow, let's do exactly that. At least 30 minutes passed. Diane began running her hands against my chest and pulled my shirttail out of my pants, and slowly unbuttoned my shirt as I'd unbuttoned hers before. Our hands were starting to explore each other more now, my arms wrapped around her caressing her back, with hers running over my chest. She rolled over so that I was on my back, and she started kissing and suckling the nipples on my chest for all that she was worth. I didn't go any further, though, because I didn't know exactly where she had drawn the line, and I didn't want to offend her at all. This, looking back, turned out to be a mistake. All at once, after we'd been going at it for at least an hour, Diane pulled away and almost tossed me aside. She sat up in the bed, put her shirt back on and put her head in her hands as a thunderstorm brewed all around our room. She went over and opened the door, and just stood in the doorway, staring out the window with a single tear rolling down her left cheek. "I'm sorry," Diane said. "I knew this was a mistake as soon as I started." "Sorry for what?" I asked, patiently. "I didn't know that you didn't really want me," she said. "I guess I've turned you off somehow...I don't know." "Is she *nuts*?" I thought to myself. At that point, I was more turned on than I'd ever been in my life...where was all of this coming from? "I didn't know what you wanted, Diane," I said, meekly. "I wasn't sure if you were ready for anything yet." Diane just glared at me. "I was ready when you kissed me, dammit!" she nearly shouted at me. "I can't believe you couldn't see that." She paused. "Right now, I have three choices, none of them good at all," she said, closing the door. "I can send you home and lock myself in the room all night, or I can send you home and take care of this with someone else...or, I can just attack you and risk hurting you a whole lot. And I don't want to do that..." She sobbed a minute, then said, "I want you, I need you so desperately...this is physically painful for me." It all of a sudden hit me...all this time, I'd been holding myself back because I'd thought it was what Diane wanted...when in fact she was begging me to make her scream in ecstasy. And I hadn't even known it! "Diane, you aren't getting this, are you?" I said. "All this time, I've been trying to hold myself *back* because I thought that this was what you wanted...Diane, you don't have to attack me to have me." At this, Diane turned and looked to me with the most powerfully lustful look I had ever seen. She climbed back onto the bed and kissed me, deeply and lovingly on the lips. She then began fumbling with her pants, finally managing to unbutton them and pull them down slightly. She took my left hand and forced it deep down between her legs, and it immediately became clear that not only was she not wearing panties, but she was so wet that it felt like a swamp. Diane looked hard at me. "Andy, I don't care what you do or how you do it," she said, "but know that there is no way that I can keep on going like this!" My eyes lit up, and I began kissing her again. Diane kissed back with such a force that my jaw actually began to hurt. I pulled away and quickly helped her out of her pants.Immediately, she helped me get her out of her bra, and for the first time, I got to see--for real this time--every last inch of my Diane's incredibly gorgeous figure. She had long, graceful, shaven legs that seemed to go on forever, with a small stomach and breasts that sagged a little, but were still quite firm. My lips immediately latched onto one of them, suckling the nipple and rolling it with my tongue. My left hand was rolling her swollen clit between my fingers, and my right hand was tugging to get my pants off. Diane finally helped me out of those, and her hand immediately plunged into my boxers, almost wildly stroking my cock, trying to somehow even get it harder than it was already. Somehow, I knew the time was right. I pulled back from her for just a moment and whispered, "Let's make love." "Slowly, and completely?" she whispered. "Yes," I said, "slowly and completely...for however long you want to." My boxers came off, revealing all of me to her for the first time, and Diane quickly rolled me over onto my back, with a need on her face that I had previously only dreamed about. She covered me with kisses, driving me crazy with desire with kisses to my neck, then moving down to my chest again, milking and biting my nipples as she kissed them. Her kisses traveled lower, over my stomach, until finally, she took my throbbing member into her mouth and started sucking on it fiercely, rolling the shaft with her tongue as she did so. Her desire for that ended quickly, however. It was abundantly clear at that point exactly what Diane wanted. I started to ask her if she thought that I should use protection; she merely silenced me by putting her finger to my lips. "Dear heart," she said, "I don't want you even to worry about anything like protection or anything like that. All I want you and I to worry about tonight is making wonderful, magnificent love together and feeling your big, throbbing cock inside me." She planted one last kiss on my lips and raised her hips up, grasping my cock in her hand as she did so. Then, just as in our cybersex scenario before, she lowered herself down, slowly, gently onto me, until I was buried inside of her. To this day, I haven't told Diane this, but this was the first time that I had ever truly made love to anyone else. The feeling as I entered her for the first time was almost indescribable...but even better than that was the knowledge that she wanted to take me just as bad as I wanted to take her. I began to buck my hips upward into her, and she brought her body forward so that our chests were pressed together. We kissed with a wild abandon as I continued bucking my hips up into her, and she began to bounce on my manhood, taking the time whenever she could to grind her hips against me. I could hear her panting as the sweat began to coat our bodies. Diane knew how to make it even more erotic, too...she began whispering into my ear as we continued to make love to each other. "How do you like it, my sexy boy?" she said. "My arms hold you...my cunt holds you...I'm the one causing you to go absolutely crazy with pleasure, baby, I can tell...I can feel the juices bubbling in your cock as you're fucking me while my juices coat your cock..." I tried to talk, but I found I couldn't. Diane was in control of me...in control of my pleasure. I found that I could hardly even thrust into her after a while, because I was shaking so much from the adrenaline that was rushing through my body. It didn't even matter to her, though, as the walls of her pussy continued to squeeze me as she moved her hips up, and released as she moved them down over my cock. Soon, I felt her body starting to tense, and I started kissing her neck and rubbing her breasts with my hands. It was too much for Diane to take. I thrust into her as best as I could, and felt her clenching me like a vise as she started to whisper, "Oh God..." Her shouts began to get louder and louder..."Oh God Oh GOD OH GOD!!!" as wave after wave of orgasm swept over her body. She implored me, "Take me, Andy...now, now!" as I thrust up into her, almost violently. The wave subsided for her, but was still building for me. She refused to let me go, urging me on..."Come on, baby, I want you...I want to feel your hot come shooting out of your cock and going deep inside my warm, waiting cunt..." She then flickered her tongue against the most sensitive spot on my neck, and that set me off like a time bomb. I thrust into Diane faster and faster, yelling uncontrollably and unintelligibly as I came violently at her urging, feeling what had to be the greatest feeling I had ever experienced, before or since. My cock was tingling like I had a short circuit of electricity running through it, and I arched my back (something I never do) as my orgasm overtook me. This didn't satisfy Diane...in fact, if anything, it turned her on even more. So even as I was exhausted and beginning to limpen a little bit, she kept grinding against me, determined to get as much out of me as she possibly could. And, somehow, it worked...another huge orgasm, even bigger than the first, swept over her, and as our bodies continued to move in a rhythm her fingers dug into my back so hard as she came she actually left scratch marks afterwards. Finally, exhausted, with the sweat pouring from our bodies, we kissed each other lightly. Diane finally, reluctantly, got off of me and just laid there, spent for a moment. I could hardly blame her, really, considering how *I* certainly felt at that moment. "I have to tell you, Diane...that was magnificent," I said. "I don't think I've ever felt this close to anyone else in my entire life. Not Angela, not anybody." I kissed her again. "I can't think of anyone I'd rather experience all these feelings with than you," I said. She smiled at me, and said, "I know." She then looked at me seriously. "Listen," Diane said. "I want you to understand that there's certain things I can't give you. I can't give you a one-and-only kind of relationship. I won't get married and I won't have kids. In short, I can't give you the happily-ever-after storybook romance that I know you want out of life. "What I can give you is my affection, and my attention, and my support, and my undying devotion and loyalty," she said. "If you can deal with that...well, I think we're gonna be together for a long time." "I couldn't ask for anything more," I said, with a tear in my eye and a smile on my face. "Just remember, no matter what happens...I'll always love you." "I know. I'll always be here...I promise." And we drifted off to sleep in each others' arms. One day down...a lifetime to go... NOT EXACTLY THE END, BUT CLOSE ENOUGH FOR NOW. 8-)

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/12106.txt

Ms. Christine

Corporate Backlash - The Corporation - Part Eighteen

"Oh no, please, I beg you, I can't take it. It hurts too much!" "You should have thought of that sooner. You deserve every stroke. I consider it a fit and proper punishment for your crimes. Now, we will start again!" And with that, the cane swished through the air and hit its mark. He screamed, he counted, he screamed some more and begged. With superhuman effort on his part, he endured his full punishment. His sense of relief was tangible when he counted off the last stroke. "There now, that was not so bad, was it?" Lisa taunted. Jack was crying. He had not cried since he was a child. "Quite cathartic, really, if you think about it," she said as she placed the cane back on her desk. Jack sniffed and asked if she had a handkerchief. "You really should have one of your own, if you make a habit of blubbing," she said and passed him a large white one she just happened to have in her pocket. "You can pull up your pants now, and thank me for showing you the error of your ways." She was standing there pointing to her feet. Jack quickly blew his nose and wiped his eyes, then fell to the floor in front of her and thanked her for punishing him. The words came out a little begrudgingly, but he managed to sound reasonably sincere. "Now, here is a pen and a piece of paper. You will write one hundred times, 'I must respect women', in neat legible handwriting. When you have finished, you will raise your hand. You are not allowed to speak again until I give you permission." And with that, she waved him back to his seat. Jack took the pen and paper, resumed his place, and started to write. It was not long before he realized that Lisa's gown was raised, and she was exposed to him behind her open-fronted desk. She was masturbating! He tried hard to ignore her and concentrate on the task at hand, but all to no avail. He could not resist taking a quick peek. She appeared to be completely oblivious of his presence. He tried to keep writing, while using his other hand to rub the bulge in his pants. She now had her eyes closed and had put both her feet up on her desk. Her hand moved slowly around her clitoris and vagina. She was getting very wet. Jack could see her sex glistening as she gave out little moans of pure self-indulgent pleasure. He stopped writing, undid his zip, and pulled out his penis. As he watched her getting more and more excited, he manipulated himself faster and faster. He groaned. Still, she appeared to ignore him. Then she climaxed, and her body shuddered with satisfied pleasure. She opened her eyes suddenly and saw Jack staring straight at her. Without a word, she picked up a ruler from her desk, descended the dais, and strode towards him. He did not have time to straighten himself up, and the look on his face was quite pitiable. She grabbed his ear, pulled him to his feet, and stared at his erect penis. He shuffled uncomfortably and stared at his feet. 'How was he managing to get into so much trouble? It was all her fault, she's tormenting me,' he thought, but it didn't help. Suddenly and without warning, she applied a stroke with the ruler directly to his erection. He jumped in the air, trying to cross his legs at the same time to give himself some sort of protection. Then she held one hand and rulered that, and then did exactly the same to the other hand. "How dare you behave in such a way in my presence. I will not tolerate such behavior. Do you want another caning?" Jack shook his head, but he didn't dare speak. "Now get on with your lines, and put that filthy thing away!" Lisa turned and resumed her seat, and Jack zipped himself back up and did the same. He was so frustrated he could hardly concentrate on writing his lines, and his hands were so sore he could not hold the pen properly either, but eventually he finished. When he put his hand up, Lisa simply said, "About time! Bring them here." She glanced over them and then made him repeat the sentence out loud, just to make sure he remembered it. "I must respect women," he intoned, and actually sounded as though he meant it. "Now, it is time for lunch. Alice will bring you something to eat here. When you have finished, I want you to spend the afternoon writing out a complete confession of all your crimes against women, and I want it signed and dated. If it is not finished by five o'clock, when I return, I will have no other choice but to give you fifty strokes of the cane! Do I make myself perfectly clear?" "Yes, Madam," came the extremely muted response.

Part Eighteen

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/16618.txt

Delta

Taxi Tales: Lost Fares

"Car 14 clear and heading for home," I said into the radio. "Car 14, Roger," came the reply. "Have a nice night, Dale." "Thanks, Jill." Jill was the dispatcher. A nice lady. I think she kinda likes me, but I don't know why. It was the cool of the morning, oh about 4:00 a.m. Best time of the day: traffic was minimal; people were mostly indoors, asleep; it was quiet. 'Bout an hour or so from now and people would start moving again. The city would wake. I hoped to be asleep by then. I pulled the taxi into the parking lot. It was mine for the night. No one else was scheduled for it until after my shift tomorrow. Then they pick it up from the lot and return it. Perks for being a senior driver. Tiring day. Some are good, some are bad. This one was tiring. Too many drunks who wanted to argue about the fare, too many people who wanted me to settle arguments. That's not my job. Funny what people think a cabby should be. Ah, well, tomorrow would be better . . . . Or, maybe it would be worse. Different, anyway. I got out of the car and locked the door, looking around. Hadn't been robbed yet, but no sense not having your wits about you. City can be dangerous for the unwary. I stretched, breathing in deeply of the scent of flowers and trees in bloom. Like I said, best part of the day. It was a long walk up to the fourth floor. Be nice if they had an elevator, but they don't. I put my key in the lock and opened the door. Home. Ain't much, just a bachelor pad, but it's where I live. Home. I sat down at the small table and figured out my take for the day. Not as much as it could be, but more than I get on a bad day. Some people think cabbies got it good. Sit down all day, just drive around. Think they take in everything on the meter. Ain't so. We get a cut of the take, and it ain't enough. Sometimes work a whole shift for less than minimum wage. After the figures were entered in my log book, I relaxed. Tips weren't too bad. I declared some, but not all of them. Only a fool declares everything. Only a bigger fool declares nothing. I'm neither. So I declare a percentage. It varies day to day and the auditor will like the fact that I write it down every day--if they ever audit me. Haven't yet. I'm tired. Just sort the mail, take a shower and go to bed. Damn. I forgot to check the mail. I ain't walking down four flights of stairs just to get the mail. It'll keep. I put the undeclared tips in the can that's buried in the flour. Quite a bit there now. I'll count it someday. Mad money. The shower is hot and feels good. I want to stay in, but I know the longer I stay in, the less time before traffic starts up, and I want to be asleep by that time, so I don't stay in. Instead I towel dry, brush my teeth and climb into bed. Maybe I'll have good dreams. "Good morning, Kate." Kate works at the restaurant on the corner of 4th and Hill. She has the 6 to 2 shift. I try to be on hand to pick her up when I can, which is fairly often. It's nice having a lady like her riding in the cab. Take her home, sometimes, too. She's a looker. She's one of those women who you just want to be around. Cute, cheerful, willing to talk to a fella. Have her in your cab and it's a better day already. "Hi, Dale. How's life treating you?" she asks. "Not bad," I reply, "can't complain." Well, I could, of course, but it wouldn't do no good. 'Sides, she don't want to hear it, less'n it's a legit complaint. Like the time I was driving her home that night. I just heard my brother had died in a car crash. Then she was willing to hear. We talked some that night. Wasn't busy, so I just parked outside her place and we talked. Found out some things 'bout her and told her some things 'bout me. Funny that. Mostly I don't like to tell nothing 'bout me. That night, though, I was feeling lonely and told her some things. She invited me in, you know, and I was tempted. Only an hour to go on my shift and it wasn't busy. No one would have cared. And she's a real looker. Got her a body, she does, as well as a nice face. Probably could have made her, too, what with her feeling sorry for me. But I do that and she gets to thinking the next day and I lose a regular fare. Ain't worth it. But I'll bet she's real good in bed. She moves real slinky like. It's a treat to just watch her walk, which I do. She probably thinks I'm a good guy, waiting 'til she gets inside before driving off, but I'm watching her walk. She ain't talkative today. "Thanks," she says as I let her off. Maybe I'll take her home tonight and she'll say something. She got her a boyfriend. Lady like her, guess that's not hard to figure. He works in the camps, in one month, out two weeks. When he's out he drives her to work, mostly, but she still catches a cab back home. It's a busy night and I'm picking up and dropping off a lot of fares. After yesterday it's a good feeling. Couple of them good tippers, too. "Car 14 down for lunch," I radio in. "Car 14, Roger." I wait. "Dale, if you're in the neighbourhood, you mind picking me up the regular." "Gotcha." Jill likes fast food from the hamburger joint. Burger, fries and a milkshake--vanilla. I tell her she should eat better, but she don't listen. Make my own lunch. Don't cost as much and tastes better. But I don't mind picking up for Jill. Then I take it in and we eat together. Jill's a classy Lady. Don't take no guff from us cabbies, she don't. She can give as good as she gets, so none of us try to give her any, least not no more. New guys, sometimes. We older guys, we just wait for the entertainment to begin. "Hi, Jill," I smile at her and hand her her bag of poisons. "Thanks, Dale." She motions me to a seat, which I take. She looks at me funny, every now and then and I start to wonder if she's got the hots for me or something. Other guys are starting to clue in to something or other and Fred, he winks at me as he passes through the office. But I'm probably reading something into nothing. He probably thinks I'm trying to put the make on Jill. He ought to know better. Anyone tries to put the make on our Jill, and he's liable to get tossed on his ear. But it's nice to have someone to eat with. I don't like to eat in the car. I like a clean car. So I get out to eat. Sometimes I just sit on a bus-stop bench, sometimes I eat in the park if it's early. I like eating different places different times. I think too much, I guess. This time when I finish thinking I find that Jill has been looking at me again. I grin at her. "Sorry," I apologize. "Did you say something? My thoughts were somewhere else." "No, Dale," I like how she says my name, "I just like looking at you." She looks like she's scared I'll make fun of her or something for saying that. I won't. Doesn't do you any good to do stuff like that. 'Sides, if I do then I won't have anyone to eat with. I turn my head. "This is my *good* side," I tell her and she laughs. Jill has a nice laugh. I laugh with her. I'm almost sorry when I'm done and have to go back on the road. Jill's okay. There are others, though . . . . These two ladies get in my cab. I hate it when a lady wears too much perfume and one, if not both, of these two are. I'm not surprised. "Thanks for stopping, sport," the older one says to me and gives me an address. We drive along in silence. They are talking to each other and I try not to listen. I don't need to hear stuff like that. "Okay, ladies. We're here. That'll be $10.75." They look at each other and I groan to myself. "Tell you what, sport," the older lady says, "how about taking it out in trade?" The younger one looks a little embarrassed. That'll wear off. The older lady tries a smile."I'll give you a blow job, right here. Half price." When I don't say anything, she continues, "If you don't like me, how about Ashlee here? She'll make it worth your while." Ashlee has the grace to blush. "Just get out of the cab." Ashlee is going to say something, but the other lady pushes her out. "Thanks, sport," she smiles at me, then walks away as if she hasn't just stolen money out of my pocket. Ashlee makes to follow, then turns back before I put the car in gear. I look at her, no welcome on my face. "I'll see that you get your fare," she tells me, which surprises me. "One way or another." She takes note of the cab number, then turns away. "Lady?" I make my voice smooth. Don't want to frighten her. "Yes?" "I'd rather you just get out of the business. It ain't for you, and it ain't worth it. You need bus fare back home, you come and see me. It ain't no life worth living." Ashlee looks at me all funny-like. It's as if she wants to trust but can't quite do it. I just sit there, waiting. Finally, she makes a decision. "Can you wait here two minutes?" she asks. I nod, and she turns and runs after the other lady. It's closer to five minutes, but she comes running back, carrying a small suitcase. She gets in quickly, and I don't wait for an address. We're three blocks away before she gets up the nerve to ask if I'm for real. "The Bus Depot?" I ask. She nods. "I don't know when I can pay you back," she says, then hesitates, "unless you..." She can't finish. "You're young enough to be my daughter," I tell her. "If I was your father, I'd just be happy to see you back home. I wouldn't care whether or not you 'made it' in the big city. You can always try again later. Where you were heading, though, it's hard to come back from. Want my advice?" I don't care whether she wants it or not, she's going to get it. "Don't tell nobody nothing. Just say you decided that you prefer it back there. Ain't nothing wrong with changing your mind. Remember that." She nods at me, and I think she's going to start crying, but she holds it back. Kids. I shake my head. Think they know everything and are scared to admit they don't. We get to the Bus Depot, and I ask where she's going. She tells me. It ain't too far off. Turns out she knows the fare. I give it to her with a little extra for something to eat. I'm a sucker, I know. She's probably just running a scam on me. Easy money. I'll know better next time. I see a bus pulling in when I let her off, and I get in the line. Who knows, maybe I'll get a fare, get some of my money back. I'm third in line when I see her walking out the front door. Sucker, I tell myself. She looks at the cabs, peering through the windows. The cabby out front gets out, figuring she wants a ride, but she waves him off. She sees my cab and comes up to my window. She leans in and gives me a kiss on the cheek, which startles the hell out of me. "Thanks... Dale," she sees my ID card. "My bus leaves in 15 minutes. I called home. My mom's going to pick me up." So I ain't a sucker after all. Not this time. "A last bit of advice?" I ask. She nods. "Wash off some of that make-up before you get home." She nods again and walks back through the front door. I get a fare, and a good one. Then I barely have time to get to 4th and Hill to pick up Kate. She's silent all the way home. Not just silent, but she don't want me to talk, either. After a time, a cabby will know when the fare just wants him to drive and nothing else. Kate just wants me to drive. I just drive. Third day in a row that Kate's doing the silent routine. Sometimes a body wants silence, and sometimes a body wants someone to break through that silence. It can be tough to tell the difference. "Nice night," I say. She just looks straight ahead. Unlike many fares, Kate likes to sit up front. "I hear it might rain tomorrow." That's a bald-faced lie. It's hot, and it's going to stay hot. The weatherman figures another five days of this before we get relief. Kate doesn't say anything, and I try to think up a new angle that won't get me in trouble. "Might rain tonight," she says quietly. Shit. I pick up the mike, "This is Car 14, I'm going to take an early one." "Car 14, Roger. Nothing much doing anyway. Sleep well, Dale." "Will do." I turn off the meter and take a right turn. This isn't the way to Kate's place, but she says nothing. I'm not sure if she noticed. Soon we're climbing what's known as Snob Hill. There's a point where you can pull off the road. Sort of a little lookout. I stop there. "There's the whole city, down there," I say to Kate. The city can look nice at night, all the lights on and all. I don't know if this angle will lead anywhere, but she wants to talk, and that talk of rain might come true, too. Out of nowhere, she asks, "Have you ever had a dream, Dale?" I don't like where this is leading. I've had a dream or two, I want to tell her. I've been there. But I don't think she really wants me to say anything right now. Maybe later, so I just say, "Yes." "Sometimes you have a dream, and the dream becomes your reality. Everything else is just a sideshow to your main event. Soon you begin to believe in your dream and you work to make it happen. It is wonderful, actually living the dream, moving towards your final goal in a meaningful way. "Yes, the city is beautiful from up here. The lights seem friendly. Warm and friendly." She swallows a couple of times before getting ready to continue. "But if you go down the hill, go to one of those pretty, warm and friendly lights, you see all the ugliness around. "Sometimes dreams end. Sometimes they are destroyed." She's been doing good, keeping calm, but now the rainstorm starts. "He left, Dale. Left for another woman. One who makes him feel more alive than I do." "That hurts," I tell her. Women are funny ducks. You try to solve their problems, you end up being their problem, seems like. So I just agree with her and keep my solutions to myself. "Yes, it does." "A lot," I contribute. Not that I really know, see, but it seems the thing to say. I reach out and put my hand on her shoulder. She brings up a hand on top of mine and squeezes. She pulls my hand down and kisses it, then places it on her breast. Damn. I'm going to lose a regular fare. One way or another, I'm going to lose. I withdraw my hand and turn the key in the ignition. "I'll take you home, now, Kate." There must be something in my voice, 'cause she looks over, through the tears and says, "I'd like that. I'd like that a lot." At her house, I get out and go around the car to open the door for her. She gets out, every inch the Lady I know she is. She takes my hand and leads me up the walk. We go in the front door, and she leads me, without turning on any lights, to the bedroom. She hesitates. I've lost her as a fare, so what the hell. I lean down and kiss her neck. "You're very beautiful, Kate. I've always loved the way you walk. Turns a man on." She reaches down to see if I'm turned on. I am. "Good," she says, though what she means is anyone's guess. Kate is a class act. If I'm going to do her right, I got to be classy too. I reach up and unclasp her barrette. Her hair comes cascading all around. It is fine, silky hair, and I run my fingers through it. She turns around and raises her head. I bend down to kiss her lightly on the lips. Just the smallest touch. Lips brushing lips. I ain't in practice, but I know what a Lady likes, and it ain't a big wet kiss with lots of tongue right off the bat. Not in a situation like this. I hold her close, and her arms come around me. My lips are near her ear, so I murmur, "God, you smell good, Kate." And she does. Just a hint of perfume. I nuzzle her, and she tilts her head to give me more room. My hands are caressing her back, and she seems to like that, too. Then they find the zipper and slowly pull it down. Her skin is smooth and wonderful. She steps back and allows her dress to fall to the floor. In the dim light from the streetlamps outside, I see her figure, covered only by bra and panties. I whistle softly, and she smiles. Her smile is one of those smiles that can light up a room and make a man's heart pound. "Walk for me," I tell her. She looks puzzled. "I love watching you walk," I explain. "I've been watching you walk for months," I add, and she gets that little look that tells you that she knows she has a hold on you and that she likes it. She turns away and walks across the room to the window. When she turns around, her bra is open, and her breasts are there, in all their glory. I just stand there and stare. She laughs a victorious little laugh and comes striding back to me in that slinky way she has. No, slinky ain't the right word. It's softer than that, more exciting. It ain't a come-on, it's more natural... oh, who the hell cares what the word is. I bend down and kiss each breast right on the nipple, giving the nipple a tiny flick of my tongue. She purrs. "You like what you see?" "I like." "I want to see you, too." She begins unbuttoning my shirt. I shrug it off, and it joins her dress and bra on the floor. Then her hands are undoing my belt. I give a little shiver, and her smile gets that little hook to it. You know, that hook that tells you that she knows the power she has and that she's enjoying using it. "Mmmm." My pants and underwear have joined my shirt. I'm naked, and she's running her hands all over me. I'm not in great shape, but at 45 (20 years older than her), I'm not all that bad either. She grasps me, and I gasp. She pulls me over to the bed and then pushes me back on it.Kate is enjoying this and I let her enjoy, 'cause I'm enjoying it, too. She lowers a breast to my face, and I capture it in my mouth. I caress her sides, and one hand finds its way up to touch and caress her other breast. I love how she moans. So, it's one breast than the other, then her lips and whatever else she wants. We're having a lot of fun, her teasing and me being teased. Then she pulls back and lowers herself onto me--I never even noticed her panties going the way of all our other clothes. "Ah!" I'm inside Kate. She's warm and wet and wonderful. It has been quite a while. "You're beautiful," I tell her, and she knows I mean it. She goes wild on me, riding me, and I go wild right back, bucking up into her. Afterwards, I go exploring, finding all the little places a woman has and loves to have a man find. Most of all, I just let her see how much I like being with her, playing with her and making love to her. She is beautiful; she's just forgotten it for a moment and needs someone to remind her. I'm happy to be the one, and I take advantage 'cause I know all too well it's a one-time thing and what the end result will be. As soon as I'm sure that she's asleep, I get dressed and leave. No way she'll want me to be here in the morning. It's going to be embarrassing enough as it is. No need to make it more so. I know that it wasn't me she wanted. By tomorrow, she'll know it too. That's when I lose my regular fare. No more watching Kate's body move as she walks from the cab to her door. No more enjoying the friendly smile and the talk. It's over. Too bad. I shrug. Can't do anything about it. My room is as I left it. I do my fare sheets. Have to take money from the can to make good what I gave to Ashlee or whatever her real name is, not to mention the lost fare from the other lady. Not a good night. Too many lost fares. My days off go by uneventful. Then it's back to work. I make sure I'm on time to pick Kate. She sees me and almost turns away, but gets a determined look on her face and heads for the cab. I try not to shiver. "Good morning, Kate," I say as I've said every afternoon I've picked her up. "We have to talk." Yeah, I know. But why do they have to say it that way? As if talking to a man is as unpleasant a chore as might ever have to be done. "Okay, Kate, I'll start." I planned this last night when I couldn't sleep. "I had the strangest dream. Ever have a dream, Kate?" She looks at me funny. "Well, I had this dream, and you were in it..." I let my voice trail off. "Second thought, maybe I'd better not tell you that dream. You might think bad of me. Had another dream, though. Went flying without a plane or nothing. Kinda scary looking down, but kinda exciting too. Guess it ended okay, 'cause here I am, back at work. Going to be another hot day, I understand." Kate looks at me and smiles. We talk about nothing important the rest of the way. As she gets out of the cab, she looks me in the eyes and says, "You're wrong, though." I raise my eyebrows. "I wouldn't think bad of you." She turns and walks into the restaurant. Her walk is just a little more sassy than usual, and I know it is for me alone. I also know it is a one-time thing. "One hamburger, one large fries, one vanilla milkshake and a salad." "Salad?" Jill asks. "Salad. You've got to start eating better." I like it when Jill laughs. "Oh, and I have something for you, too." She hands me an envelope. I look at the front. "Dale, Car 14," it says and is addressed to the Taxi Company. I shrug and open it. There's a short note which I unfold. "Thank you for getting Sandy back to us. Her father and I are in your debt." Sandy? The name isn't familiar. There's also a check. I look at it. Then I understand. It comes to the amount I gave 'Ashlee' plus the cab-fare I didn't get plus a ten-dollar tip. I'm feeling pretty good, and I smile, my thoughts nowhere in particular. "What is it, Dale," Jill asks. "Nothing much. I just thought I'd lost a couple of fares, but turns out I was wrong." I look at Jill again. She's got a nice face. I wonder if she'd like to go out sometime after work.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/10876.txt

Lord Malinov

Memo

"Relax," Terri told herself. "Loosen up. He's just a guy." Terri rapped on the wooden door and stood listening. A moment passed in silence, and she knocked again. Pushing down on the brass handle, Terri opened the door a crack. "Mark," she said quietly. The door swung open gently, and Terri peered into the office. An empty chair sat behind the large walnut desk. Terri glanced at the memo she had brought Mark and shrugged. "I guess I could leave him a note," she explained to herself, a little disappointed. "He can call me if he has any questions." Terri stepped inside Mark's office. The heavy door swung slowly shut with a click. Intimidated by the calm silence of the young manager's office, Terri quickly placed her memo on the center of the desk's green blotter. Taking a pen from her jacket pocket, Terri looked for a pad of note paper, but the wide open desk space offered nothing of the sort. Terri quickly checked her pockets for something to write on and finally sat down in the large executive desk chair with a shake of her head. "He must write on something," she said, reaching for a drawer. As the dark wood compartment began its gentle slide outward, Terri paused and looked up nervously. A photograph in a gold frame, two men, one younger, one older, both strikingly handsome, stared smiling from the far side of the desk. Terri pulled the drawer open and quickly rifled through the stack of papers until she reached a yellow legal pad nestled beneath last week's quarterly reports. Pulling it free, she flipped past twenty pages of handwritten notes until she reached a blank sheet and tore it loose. "Mark," Terri wrote. "Here's the Jenkins memo. Call me if you have any questions. Terri." She scrawled her name with a self-satisfied flourish, hoping the new manager would be as pleased with her work as Franklin, the old regional director, always had been. Terri folded the long canary-yellow sheet and slipped it under the paper clip that bound her memo. Picking up the legal pad she had borrowed, Terri started to return it to the place from whence it came. She hardly looked down, but in a flash, a dash of words caught her attention. "excited gleam in her eyes" The tight rush of a masculine script leapt off the yellow page. Terri felt her heartbeat race as she started to read from the top. "Jenkins - unsatisfactory, reorganize, consider bringing in two people from the Walters account to support - Allen, Frank???" Terri smiled with a glance at the memo planted in the center of Mark's desk. She had concluded that the Jenkins account should be reorganized, that additional people be brought in to help. Allen had been her first choice as well. Terri returned to the legal pad, skimming the paragraph on a meeting that had taken place two weeks earlier. "The woman (Name? Mary?) working on the Jenkins memo could probably manage the whole project. Call North for update. She seemed sincerely interested in bringing the team around, hampered by the short staff and Franklin's attitude that the whole thing would wait. When I spoke to her about looking for new ideas, I was impressed by the excited gleam in her eyes. She wants to make this happen. That's exactly the kind of attitude we need to make this project work." Terri's smile spread full across her face. Looking up to the youthful man in the photograph, she nodded her thanks and blushed. "Beautiful, really. I can't let her looks influence my evaluation of her performance, but she presents the kind of image that would go far in Seattle. I'll wait to see the memo before making any decisions about that meeting. Tough call, two weeks in close quarters with a woman like that could wreak havoc on my reason." Terri held her breath. She never dreamed that they would consider taking her to Seattle for the corporate conference. A thrill ran through her, and she flipped the page. "Two suites, Stacy needs to make reservations. Sander's can't make it, going to Geneva for ASCOM. Steven or Terri. Steven knows the numbers. Terri's really the better choice. Fuck, that would be hard to manage. No way I'm going to concentrate on the new range of pharmaceuticals with those tits sitting next to me." Terri felt her nipples harden as she tried to decide if she should be offended by such blatant sexism. She stole a glance at the photograph, Mark looking like a boy next to his grey-haired father. "Can't forget Reno - disaster - working with Jackie on the Magruder systems. We hardly lasted two hours in the hotel before that hard-working missy was grinding her twat on my cock. Mmm, sweet memory, if only Robinson hadn't found out. Terri seems different, anyway, hardly any sexual chemistry there. No flirting. Husband?" Terri bit her lip, more offended by the sudden dismissal of her sexuality than she was by the unprofessional comments about her breasts. "No ring. Some flirtation, maybe. Saw her lean over to examine the copier, flash of silky thighs, maybe a trace of lace panty. Don't know if she knew I was behind her. My cock took notice. Fabulous ass. I should take her to Seattle with me. I wonder if she would go." Spreading her legs slightly, Terri scratched at the tight elastic band of her stocking and slowly pushed her skirt slightly higher until she could tickle her satin-draped pussy. "Mmm," she whimpered. "Either way, I lose. Screw her and who cares about the biotech. But if we go and manage to control ourselves, how am I going to concentrate? I can't spend twelve-hour days for two weeks sitting next to a beauty like that and not waste every fucking minute dreaming about those titties. I would be insane after the first few hours." "Yeah," said Terri, rubbing herself vigorously. "Drive you crazy." "I couldn't survive the late-night planning sessions, sitting in our suite going over the figures, or dinners with clients and Terri in a silk dress with Johnson pouring Sake and toasting success and riding back in a taxi, half drunk and giddy with victory and ride the elevator to the twelfth floor together and goodnight at the door, see you at tomorrow's meeting on international sales." Terri brushed the satin to one side, drawing a finger between her moist cunt's lips. "'Your room or mine' and lift the dress to see those silken thighs and lace panties, pulled off that sweet ass, press my cock inside to prove that teamwork makes us go and suck her pretty titties and let her suck my cock." "Lick my cunt," moaned Terri. "Spurt my cream on her cherry lips, good job, good night, kiss Jenkins goodbye." "No," said Terri, sinking a finger deep inside as she rubbed her clit furiously. "Read my memo. Jenkin's is easy. Fuck Jenkins. We can handle that shit. Fuck me, Mark." She looked at the young man in the photograph. He smiled lecherously. "Fuck me," she said with a gasp. "I have to take her. No way to explain not taking her. She's too good." "Great," Terri said. "Fucking great." The handle on the door slowly twisted. Terri felt a mad wave of ecstasy pass through her and then held her breath. The door swayed inward. Terri shoved the pad into the open drawer and pulled down her skirt. "I'll let you know," said Mark to someone in the hall as he backed into his office. "I just hope she's done with that memo." "Mmm," said Terri, taking a deep breath. "Right here." "Terri," said Mark. "I was just dropping off the memo. I think you'll find we have Jenkins well in hand." Terri handed him the sheaf of papers. "Excellent." Mark lifted the yellow note and skimmed over the first page. "Fantastic. I think we're of one mind on this." "Let me know if there's anything else I can do," Terri said, stepping past Mark to reach for the office door. "Yeah," said Mark, still reading. "Wait. Tyler wants you to go to Seattle with me. Can you arrange your schedule for the fourteenth to the twenty-seventh?" "I think so," said Terri with a smile. "Great," said Mark, putting the memo on his desk. "I think this will be perfect. We'll need to go over this later today. Good work, Terri." "Thanks," she said with a blush. Terri vanished down the hallway. "Sweet girl," Mark said to himself. "Nice perfume. She just needs to loosen up a little."Memo by Lord Malinov <malinov@mindless.com> Power belongs to those who dare... Sapere Aude <http://www.gslink.com/~dcain/xanadu/erotica/> <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> | <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> <http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/> <http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq>

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11223.txt

J. 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 okay. 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 hers. "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 okay. 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. "Okay. Okay. 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. That pair of 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, exciting 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 sped 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 with her eyes closed tight and knew 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 till 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. I wondered where she went, but decided not to follow. Instead I went for a swim. It was refreshing and I hadn't swum unrestrainedly for a long time. It was about ten when I got out. I had some late breakfast and heard Gwen coming down the road. She was talking with someone. Or more than one. I heard other voices. One was definitely male. I went to the front and looked out. Gwen was walking down the road with who else but the couple from the other cabin. I was suddenly embarrassed. I wondered immediately if Gwen had told them, then knew better. She wouldn't have. I watched as they approached. Gwen saw me and waved. I waved back dubiously. "Wendy, Mark and Alissa. Mark and Alissa, Wendy," Gwen said in the way of introduction. "Hi," I said. "You bought Mr. Parker's cabin?" "No. Just renting. Our honeymoon," Mark said. "They're here for the week," Gwen added. I looked at Alissa. She was older than I'd thought. "Hi," I said, extending my hand to her. "Hello," she said, shaking my hand comfortably. She obviously didn't have much to say. I guess I might not if I were taken away for a walk on my honeymoon either. I looked at Gwen as if to say, "So? What now?" "Come on in," Gwen chimed, pointing towards the door. "Sure," Mark said and took a step in that direction. Alissa kind of held him back, but said nothing. Mark pulled her along firmly. She followed as if nothing had happened. I looked at them as they went in. He too was older than I'd thought. But he was handsome. I let them go in first and Gwen followed me. I blushed when Gwen put her hand on my behind and reached back to pull it away right away.But it told me at least she wasn't mad about what had happened between us, and I was glad of that. It felt kind of comforting in a way. "Your cabin's a little bigger than ours," Mark said. "Not much," I replied. "How do you know?" Mark asked. "I've been to Parker's lots. My mom and dad have owned this place for years," I said. "But they're looking to sell," I added, in case they might be interested. "Still pretty old fashioned, though. Not many conveniences," Mark said. "Who needs conveniences?" Gwen asked. I understood her double entendre, even if Mark and Alissa didn't. "I just wanted something a little more civilized," Mark said. "You know of any places around here like that?" he said. "Nope. I don't get around much up here," I told him. "Except for the forest," I added. "And swimming," I added again. "That's my favorite part of all this," Alissa chimed in suddenly. I looked at her. She seemed glad to have something to say at last. "Well, Gwen must have walked you quite a ways if you didn't boat across," I laughed. "Boat," said Mark, "I wasn't about to walk the whole way." "I wanted to," Alissa said. "How come you came up the front way then?" I asked, curious. Mark answered. "Ali saw something off in the woods and wanted to check it out. She thought it was an animal, a deer or something." "I'd love to see something while I'm here," Alissa said. "Not just spend the WHOLE time in bed." Gwen and I laughed. "Ali," Mark scolded. "Well, it's true," Alissa said. "Come on," I said. "I'll go with you. I just finished a long swim and I need to dry out a little. A walk would feel good." Alissa let go of Mark's hand. "Ok?" she asked for permission. "Go ahead. I'll wait for you. Don't be too long," he told her. "Behave yourself," she warned, pointing to Gwen. "Oh come on. What am I going to do?" Mark laughed. "You've already had enough to last a lifetime this week," Alissa remarked. "A little more never hurts," Mark laughed. "You guys!" I said, trying to make them stop. "Come on," I told Alissa. I went to get a backpack and put a few things in it to eat and drink since it was almost lunch time anyway and I figured we'd be out that long. "Don't expect us back in an hour," I said. "Maybe two or four," I said to Gwen and Mark as I headed for the door. "You got good walking shoes on?" I asked Alissa as we went out the door. "Sneakers good enough?" she asked as we left the others behind. "They'll do," I said. "Where are we going?" Alissa asked. "Up to an old mining camp," I said. "God, that's great! That's the kind of thing I love to do. Explore old places and stuff," she said excitedly. "How did you find it?" "Oh, I've been coming here since I was a kid. And Mr. Parker told me about it one time. I found it on my own from his description. It's about five miles away. You ready for a good walk?" I said. "Let's do it. I'm ready. My legs feel like rubber after..." she started, but didn't finish. I laughed, "Come on. This'll be just the thing to straighten them out." 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?" I asked. "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 a 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.She knew she wanted him to stay hard and that she needed some stimulation herself to get ready for him, so she stopped to remove her tube top. She leaned forward over him in the swing, and he held her breasts roughly and squeezed them hard. Her nipples stiffened in protest as he sucked them, but it felt wonderful. His big hands wrapped around her back and pulled her up to his face. They kissed, and Gwen felt herself warming up to him. Suddenly, he pulled her up completely on top of him with his strong arms. Gwen was taken aback when she felt him spreading her apart and lowering her onto himself. She wasn't ready. He tried to enter her but failed. She kissed him harder to make herself wetter and tried to slip her hand between her legs to play with herself a little. His hand went there too, and he rubbed her with his massive fingers. They were rough-skinned, and it hurt a little, putting her completely out of the mood right away. She struggled to disengage herself, but realized she had committed herself and could not do that without a fight. So she resigned herself and tried to find what little pleasure there was in his touches. "Go easier," she told him. He knew what she meant, and moved his fingers more slowly, making her realize that he was not completely insensitive to her. "Play with me gently," she pleaded in his ear sensuously. That made him more reasonable. She was soon feeling excitable again. When his finger moved to go inside her, she stiffened and pulled her pelvis back. He stopped. "You really haven't done it before, have you?" he told her more than asked her. "No, you're the first, so enjoy it," Gwen said. He smiled at her. "You got a lotta spunk," he commented monosyllabically. "I'm known for it," Gwen told him. She wasn't. He pulled her down to him and kissed her again. This time he went in. It hurt. She moved. He pursued her, pulled her up and pushed her down. Not much. Just enough to enter. Tears welled in her eyes. It hurt again. He entered her further, and she bit her lip. He was in her. Out he came. A rest. Then back in. Slowly. She expanded. She felt him in her. He pulled her up and lowered her again. This time it was easier. Wetter. She wondered if it was blood, but did not care to look. He slid into her, pushing her sides apart. Or at least it felt that way. Soon she was helping him, lowering herself, pushing up with her thigh muscles to raise herself above him. Then she wanted control. She took it upon herself to do it to him, and he relaxed and let her fuck him. It got easier and better. This was more like what she had expected. She had him. She worked him under her and hoped he would come inside of her. Then she realized what that would mean and became a teenager again. Afraid. "You have to tell me when to get off," she said to him as she bent down and kissed around his ears. "Ok," was all he replied. She was disconcerted by his reply. She went down harder on him. "Take it easy," he told her. She had felt his cock bend a little the wrong way underneath her. She smiled inside. "Pay attention," she thought to herself, and began to work him more to make him come. She was trying to prepare to get off of him when the time came, too. "Now!" he said so suddenly that she nearly flew into the air getting off of him. She sat back down on his legs and grabbed him with one hand and pressed his cock into her belly, watching it come in sheer fascination. "Suck on it!" he told her. Gwen thought, "What an idiot!" to herself, and did just as he asked. She got down on her knees to the side of him and took him into her mouth as quickly as she could. He was hot and salty and slick. 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."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 warmly 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. It 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. "Is it 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 boredly. 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 vices 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.to/erotica/assm/&gt;&lt;http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq.

Part 1

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/8010.txt

PJ

Young Jedi Knight Sex Stories

"Tenel Ka!" exclaimed Jacen in surprise as he nursed his sore cheek. "You remember me! How flattering!" replied Tenel with her teeth bared and her one hand resting on a hip. "How did you find me?" inquired Jacen before he began stuffing clothes and gear into a satchel. "I sensed your distress, then used the Shadow Chaser to come here," answered the young Jedi girl tartly. "You brought the Shadow Chaser? Great! I'll need it to find Jaina," replied Jacen as he slung his satchel over his left shoulder before attempting to slip past Tenel Ka. Tenel turned to bar Jacen's way with the stump of her left arm, a move that froze the boy in his tracks. Jacen glanced at the stump uncomfortably, then looked away as a blush suffused his features. "You can't bear to look at it, can you? That's why you found another girl for your affections," observed Tenel Ka softly. "It's not that simple, Tenel," replied Jacen in a subdued tone. "I wish it was." "You were attracted to me before," said Tenel Ka as she drew close to Jacen's face. "Did my accident drive you away?" "It was my fault," mumbled Jacen while he stared at the ground. "Silly, I told you that I forgave you," smiled Tenel gently. "I know, but your arm reminds me about the duel. I don't want to remember," spat Jacen as he turned sharply away from Tenel Ka, avoiding her eyes. Tenel stared at Jacen, her eyes growing wet from the pain of his words. The Jedi girl cleared her throat, then slid her hands down the sides of her form-fitting armor. "What happened to Jaina?" asked Tenel Ka coolly. "A t'landa Til and a Mandalorean Knight kidnapped Jaina while she was serving drinks," answered Jacen as he left the small room and marched down the dimly-lit hallway of Adrik's Emporium. Tenel Ka rushed to keep up with the young Jedi Knight as he left the building, then turned east towards the Wasteland. "Where are they headed?" asked Tenel impatiently. "Probably to a ship hidden in the Wasteland, it's the same place where our X-Wing landed," replied Jacen. "The Shadow Chaser is there too, although I didn't see any other ships on the way here," said Tenel Ka. "The Wasteland is a big place, it's easy to get lost in it," responded Jacen as he furrowed his brow while using the Force to scan for his missing sister. Finding her muddled thoughts, Jacen began running towards the beacon of her mind. Tenel Ka easily kept up with the boy, her hand moving down to grasp the handle of her lightsaber where it bounced from her belt. Jacen and Tenel Ka peeked over the edge of a short plateau, watching as the t'landa Til and his human escorts boarded a large, ugly freighter along with the nearly comatose Jaina. A burly human carried her inside while Black Asp stood near the foot of the boarding ramp and scanned the horizon with his visored gaze. The two young Jedi backed away quickly when the armored Knight moved his search to their position, then they waited impatiently as the freighter's engines roared to life. "They'll take off soon," warned Tenel Ka. "We'll try to rush the boarding ramp as it seals shut," replied Jacen uncertainly. "I want to see you do that," retorted Tenel with a doubtful frown. Jacen's reply was interrupted when Black Asp shot over the lip of the plateau, his rocket pack screaming as he sailed above them. The black armored Knight aimed his right arm at the two Jedi, then launched a cloud of mini-missiles that arrowed in towards Asp's prey. Jacen and Tenel Ka scattered while missiles exploded around them, both Jedi activating their lightsabers before turning to face the hovering Knight. Asp grasped his blaster rifle and fired a fierce burst at the duo, then grunted in frustration as the Jedi blocked his fire with their humming blades. Black Asp dived towards Jacen, firing his rifle continuously, then smashing into the young Jedi's side. Jacen hurled backwards into the air, then slammed into the hard ground with a painful moan. Tenel Ka stuck her lightsaber into the ground, then grasped her climbing hook, twirling it above her red hair before she released it towards the flying Knight. Asp tried to dodge the swift projectile, but failed miserably as the sharply barbed device wrapped around his ankles and bit into his armored legs. Asp roared in fury while Tenel Ka yanked down on the hook's cord and forced him to crash into the unyielding earth. The Knight unsheathed his wrist knife to free his enwrapped legs as Tenel Ka retrieved her impaled lightsaber and rushed the vulnerable mercenary. Asp sliced the cord from his legs, then activated a ruby-edged vibro-sword to parry Tenel Ka's strong lunge. Golden sparks cascaded from the two weapons as they clashed, until Tenel pulled her lightsaber away to slash down again. Asp rammed into Tenel's stomach with his right shoulder, then shoved the girl into the air with his powerful strike. Tenel Ka flipped end over end gracefully, then landed on her feet brandishing her weapon. Black Asp switched his vibro-blade to his left hand, then leveled his right arm at Tenel, releasing another spread of missiles while Jacen charged his open flank. Blade met saber as the two Knights slashed, stabbed, and parried. Jacen tried to confuse Asp with the Force, but the mercenary seemed immune to his mental attacks. Asp backhanded Jacen to the ground, then fired a burst of laser fire from a left arm blaster weapon. Jacen barely avoided the barrage, then crouched forward to renew his attack on the black Knight. The bulky freighter roared as it rose into the air, its ugly silhouette blocking the sky as Black Asp ignited his rocket pack and shot up towards the slowly ascending vessel. "Don't follow us, boy. You won't live to regret it," shouted Asp before he disappeared inside the scar-hulled freighter. Jacen watched with barely restrained fury as the freighter rose into the clouds, taking away his beloved sister. "Jaina is the one you love so much, isn't it?" murmured Tenel Ka while she led the way to the Shadow Chaser. "Brothers are known to love their sisters," retorted Jacen sharply. "It's more than that, though," replied Tenel as she watched the side of Jacen's face. "You've had sex with her, you love her as a mate." Jacen grew pale in shock and alarm, then shrugged casually. "Since Mom and Dad know about us, I guess it won't hurt for you to know either," said Jacen. "Yes, I fucked Jaina. I wanted to, and I enjoyed every precious second of it." "Incest is not unknown on either of my homeworlds, but the families try to keep it secret," replied Tenel Ka. "I doubt that Mom will broadcast it on the Republic Galaxy Net," grinned Jacen. "She banished Jaina and me from Coruscant, we're outcasts now." "I'm sorry," said Tenel Ka softly. "Don't be. You should take our X-Wing and return to the Academy. I'll need the Shadow Chaser to pursue Asp and get Jaina back," said Jacen firmly. "I'll go with you. Jaina's my friend too," replied Tenel. "No. I don't want you with me," retorted Jacen coldly. "You hate me that much?" whispered Tenel Ka, her grey eyes brimming with tears. "I love Jaina, Tenel. That will never change. She's all I have left, I won't betray her," swore Jacen. "I'm not asking to fuck you, I'm asking to help you rescue a friend," snarled Tenel. "No," said Jacen as he unconsciously glanced at Tenel's amputated left arm. Tenel followed Jacen's gaze, then blushed in helpless shame. Without another word, Tenel Ka ran back towards the settlement, while Jacen jogged relentlessly towards the waiting Shadow Chaser. A young red-haired girl dressed in sleek dragonskin armor entered the medical shop, her eyes blazing with unfocused anger. The cyber-doc watched the young woman warily as she marched towards him. "You perform cyber replacements for lost limbs?" asked Tenel Ka coldly. "Yes, Miss. My prices are very reasonable, and I can outfit you with very realistic prosthetic limbs," replied the doctor eagerly. "How realistic?" probed Tenel. "Artificial blood, synthetic muscles and sensitive cyber-wire nerves, just like the real thing," smiled the doctor ingratiatingly. "Operate on me," ordered Tenel Ka as she brandished her stub-tipped left arm. "With pleasure, Miss," nodded the doctor before he led the tense girl into his operating chamber. "We'll reach the Ylesia system in half an hour," reported Black Asp from the freighter's cockpit. "Take your time, Asp," groaned the Til as Jaina lay against his mounds of fat, her young mouth sucking wantonly on his erect cock. The obese alien resumed his trilling hum, stimulating the brown-haired girl's brain with the ecstasy of the Exaltation.Jaina moaned with pleasure, then continued to lick the slimy sides of the Til's member, her pink tongue caressing the throbbing pole, then encircling the glistening tip. The Til grabbed Jaina's naked hips with his small fore hands, then turned her upside down, allowing her to suck his cock while he spread open her legs to lick her tender little pussy. Jaina moaned her approval while she slid her mouth up and down her master's tool, her tight throat squeezing the cum from the Til's shaft as he thrust his long, agile tongue deep into her slick vagina. The fat alien ate out Jaina's pussy for a while, then lowered her naked body to the soft carpeted floor. Candles illuminated the richly furnished cabin as the Til lowered his head, positioning his sensitive cranial horn near Jaina's trembling ass. "Fuck me, fuck my hungry little cunt," begged Jaina, the frenzy of the Exaltation making her slit drip with honey. Growling his agreement, the Til shoved his gnarled horn into Jaina's young fuckhole, driving it through her vagina until it emerged within her small belly. Jaina screamed in bliss, her eyes squeezed shut while she licked her painted lips and fondled her own small breasts. The Til kneaded Jaina's firm buttocks, spreading the mounds of flesh apart so he could thrust his horn deeper into the young girl's moist twat. The Til's horn moved like a powerful piston, sliding back and forth while Jaina grunted with each sensuous impalement. Jaina pressed her small hands against the floor, supporting herself as her breasts bobbed with each lewd pump of the Til's horn into her ripe ass. While the freighter thundered out of Hyperspace, Jaina shouted with gratification, screaming as her hot juices burst from her cunt to fall like warm rain on the Til's hairless head.

Episode Five: Complications

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/8705.txt

Chili Peeler

The Swing Man

"Mmmmm, look at that pretty pussy," Nikki purred for Eric's benefit. Nikki made a quick swipe across the top flap that hid Tori's sensitive clit, her tongue feeling the sparse blonde hairs that surrounded the area. This position wasn't any good for Eric, and Nikki wanted to get out of her own clothes. Reluctantly, she rose from her crouch and told Tori to sit down on the edge of the vacant bed. She pulled Tori's jeans and panties off her shins and cast them away. Her cohort left her legs open, giving their invited voyeur who sat not three feet away, a good look. Nikki looked at him as she began to unbutton her halter top. "Tori's such a bad girl," Nikki said tittilatingly, and Eric tore his eyes from the beaver he was being flashed. His eyes drank in her sloping tits as she pulled her halter top off. Unlike Tori's, which welled up in the center of her chest, Nikki's tits sort of spread naturally to the sides, seeming to sprout out of her sternum and thicken as they dove to the sides. "Nice tits," Eric said, and he drained his beer. "Let's see the rest." "You want to see the rest, do ya?" Nikki said, slowly unbuttoning her jeans. She could tell that Eric was sporting some major wood; his pants were tented almost obscenely. "Yeah, trot out some more pussy," Eric said, looking again at Tori's tasty twat. 'This guy's got a nasty streak in him,' Nikki thought. 'I like that!' "Let's see what you got, Red?" Tori countered and pulled her T-shirt over her head. "Sure, babe," Eric said with a smile, and he began undoing his pants. "I've got something in here I think you little girls are going to like." Nikki pulled her jeans down and kicked them off. She had gone sans panties that evening, and she straightened to find Eric holding a nice fist of cock - maybe seven inches long, and the underside was crisscrossed with a system of prominent veins. "Oooooo, Nikki! We got ourselves a player," Tori purred. "Very nice," Nikki said, falling back on the bed alongside Tori, opening her legs in a similar fashion. She ran the fingers of her right hand into her curly dark muff and gave Eric a quick wink of pink. "When we're through, I want to feel that dick right up here." "I'll give it to ya right now!" Eric proposed and began to take off his tank top. Nikki was ready for him; the stripping and exhibitionism had her all slickery. Tori, however, steered her back onto the script. "You heard her, Eric," Tori said, rising to her knees beside Nikki's reclining form, running a hand down Nikki's thigh. Nikki knew what her friend had in mind. "First, you got to watch." "Yeaaahhh," Nikki said, falling back, and Tori quickly moved over her body in a 69 position. Nikki wrapped her arms around Tori's lower back and gazed up at Tori's hovering sex crease as she felt Tori's fingers surrounding her own furry slit, pulling it open, letting Eric see all of her charms, up close and personal. "Look at that pussy," Nikki heard Tori toying with their audience member. She heard the other bed creaking and clothes rustling. Eric was probably stripping the rest of his clothes off. She wished she were Tori; it was always so fun to watch the guy squirm. "Watch, Eric, watch this," Tori said nastily, and Nikki felt her tongue, feather-light, begin delving into her pussy folds. Just the tip and a little of the underside of Tori's tongue searched through her springy pubes as she kept her face above her excited sex, she was giving Eric an unobstructed view of the beginning of her licking. "Mmmmm," Nikki trilled at the delicious feeling, and Tori shifted her own legs wider, bringing her own pussy down toward Nikki's face. Nikki arched upward to meet it, mashing her lips on it's length, sucking on it lustfully as her hands rode up to hold Tori's butt. "OOOoooooo," she heard Tori gasp, and then a similar smothering sucking was on her own open snatch. Nikki blew hot air in Tori's cunt at the electric jolt of Tori's hot cunnilingus and then went to work on the hot, oily tissue of her friend's crotch. It was a particularly good session, maybe because it was their last night. Tori got her off first, which was rare. Nikki flooded Tori's tongue and felt her pull away and knew she was letting Eric see the juices dripping out of her shuddering, saliva-soaked slit. Nikki began fucking Tori with her fingers and sucking on her clit, and Tori then let go, her crouching body jerking on Nikki's pumping fingers. When she'd calmed down, Tori climbed off her and stood in front of Eric. "Ready for me, Eric?" she asked. "Look at this and tell what you think." His dick looked painfully hard after watching 15 minutes of cuntsucking and feminine moaning. Tori opened the drawer of the nightstand and pulled out a string of rubbers. Nikki saw Eric's face cloud with some disappointment; he'd no doubt been looking forward to some bareback riding. Tori must have saw the look, too. "No glove - no love," she said as she ripped one of the condoms off and opened the packet. Nikki got off the bed and walked over to the desk, feeling like a cigarette before her turn with Eric. She flicked out a Virginia Slim and lit up, turning back to the beds. Tori was down on her knees sucking Eric's latex-protected cock as he held her head. Nikki was happy for Tori. She'd really come out of her shell under her tutelage. "Jessuussss! Come on...let's fuck!" Eric pleaded. Tori sort of jumped in his lap, and before Eric's back had even hit the bed, he was fucking his dick up into her squealing girlfriend. Nikki pulled her BMW into Tori's parent's driveway around noon the next day and cut the ignition. "Back in exciting Brentwood," Tori muttered, opening her door. "Hey, come on," Nikki said, trying to cheer her up, "It might get exciting....O.J. might kill someone else!" "It's just my folks...they're such a drag!" "At least you are still going to school....imagine how they'd treat you if you told them you were going to drop-out for a while," Nikki said, opening the trunk. Things had been awfully tense when she'd dropped that bombshell on her parents. Tori's mother came out of the house. "Hi, you two! How was your trip?" she said, coming up to hug her daughter. "Oh, great! Just great," Tori said, giving Nikki a weak smile over her mother's shoulder as she slipped into the 'good daughter' guise. 'If her mother only knew!' Nikki thought as she closed the trunk. "Good...I think it's so wonderful that you girls have the chance to get out and see California. Nikki, you want to come in, dear?" "No thanks, Mrs. Sperling. I just want to get home and take a nap....all the driving wears me down." Nikki went to her car door and opened it, hoping to get away before Mrs. Sperling got on one of her talking jags. "Oh, I know what you mean. We once drove..." Nikki slammed her car door and gunned the engine, cutting off Tori's mother in mid-sentence. She pulled out into the street and lowered her window to wave good-bye to them. "See you, Tori." It was a drive of only 5 or 6 minutes to her own house. She pulled up in the long carport and went inside with her bag. "Mom, I'm back!" She sat down her bag by the stairway and found her mother in the kitchen, sitting at the dining table with a cup of tea. "Hi, darling," her mother said, not getting up. She was wearing her bathrobe, and it was almost one in the afternoon. "Have a nice trip?" "Yeah, it was O.K....are you feeling all right?" Her mother would wear a housecoat this late if she was ill, maybe. "Nikki, sit down.....we have to have a talk." 'Oh shit! I bet she's been snooping around my room,' Nikki thought as she sat down. She had a little cocaine up there, hidden away good, she had thought. She didn't need her mother coming down on her. Or her father. "Nikki, your father and I are having some problems. He's moved out to the beach house." Nikki inwardly sighed a breath of relief; at least this talk wasn't about her. Her parents had a lot of arguments, so she wasn't all that concerned about what her mother had told her. "I'm sorry to hear that....you're working things out, right?""Not this time, Nikki... your father and I are going to be getting a divorce." "God, mother, what brought this on?... Things have been pretty quiet around here lately. I thought you guys were okay." The idea of her parents divorcing didn't really blow her away; most of the parents in the area had divorced at one time. It was just what people were doing. "Nikki, I've hid a lot of things from you... about your father. But you're 20 now and I'm not going to keep all this from you. Your father has been having affairs... for years." Nikki wasn't totally surprised by the revelation; her father was away from the home a lot and she could see women coming on to him. He was a good-looking guy for 40-whatever-he-was. She put on a sympathetic face as her mother continued. "I tried to put on a brave front for you, but I have been unhappy for a number of years. Your father just didn't seem to care... I came to hate him for that. But while you were gone, he just stooped so low that I had to tell him I wanted out." "What did he do?" Nikki asked curiously. She couldn't wait to hear what her father had done. She might have some ammunition against him in their next argument. "You're going to hate him too when I tell you... but I don't want you to worry. We'll be staying here in the house and he'll have to support us and pay for your college when you go back..." "Mother, just tell me." "He wanted me to go with him and... be with another couple. He wanted me to be with another man, sexually." Nikki's mouth did drop open at that. Her mother was talking about wife-swapping... major league wild. She saw her father in a new light. Her mother wasn't through, "He wanted me to sleep with your Uncle Lance." 'Yoohooooo...' Nikki thought, letting her face show the surprise. 'Uncle Lance and her father! Jeez... this is wild!' Nikki had always had a crush on her uncle. He was in his thirties but he was still cool. Wore his hair in a ponytail, drove a motorcycle, had a nice bod... there was a lot there for a young girl to long for. And her father... he seemed to have the same streak as she had. "I can't live with a man that thinks so little about our relationship. I'm sorry, baby. He's a... pervert... and I don't think you should have anything else to do with him." A pervert... Nikki wouldn't put that label on her father. She'd have to categorize herself one also, if that were the case. She'd just spent the night fucking a total stranger with her best friend. Any deviation from the conventional husband and wife, man-on-top, set-up would be perverted to her mother. 'What was Dad thinking, asking mother something like that?' That was the question. "Mom, he only just asked you... did he get angry with you? Or was it just that he asked you that made you ask for a divorce?" There was definitely something missing in the picture. "Of course, I was shocked when he asked me... but I know him, he wasn't going to let it stop him. I hired an investigator to follow your father... and he went out to your uncle's during a workday. Sneaking around behind my back again." "And you think he..." "I know he did. He's not denying it. He couldn't with the pictures that were taken." Her mother got up and walked over to pick up a file that was laying on the kitchen counter. 'God, she's gonna show me pictures of Dad.... and Uncle Lance,' Nikki thought. She could just imagine some long-range photos showing actual adultery by her father. It was sort of exciting in a weird way. Her mother handed her the file and she opened it. There were several pictures inside but nothing racy. Only some outdoor shots of her father, uncle, and a woman, all fully clothed. The woman did look sexy in that outfit; it left little to the imagination. She could hardly blame her father for wanting something like that - she wouldn't mind something like that! "This is a lot to take in right now, Mom," Nikki said, standing, "Thanks for being so straight with me. I want you to be happy. If that means getting a divorce, then you do it. I'm not going to take sides in this.... you're both my parents. Everything's going to be okay." She hugged her mother and excused herself to go up to her room and unpack. She went upstairs, thinking about the crazy family unit that she suddenly found herself a part of. It seemed she was no longer the sexual black sheep of the family. She went into her bedroom and locked the door behind her. She'd really have no excuse if her mother tried to open the door, but she didn't want her coming in when she was unpacking. She placed the suitcase on her bed, unzipped it, and fished out the two small bags of coke. Her bed had posts with round balls on the corners, and she went to the top one, opposite the door to her room, and began unscrewing it. It came off after a few turns, and she tucked the bags into her secret hiding place. With her stash safely hidden, she began to undress. She was going to try and catch some sleep despite the bombshell her mother had laid on her. It was wild to think her father had been committing adultery with her uncle's girlfriend, if that was what she was, while she and Tori had been up in Big Bear seeking out strangers to shack up with. She stripped down to her panties and lay on her bed, not bothering to pull down the covers. 'My father is a wanna-be-wife-swapper... definitely an adulterer. All those talks with him telling me not to sleep around... pretty hypocritical,' Nikki thought. She found herself wondering about what he, her uncle, and that woman had done out in the desert. 'Did they take her one at a time or did they all three do it at once... God, that must be something... to have two men to satisfy.' It was something she'd never experienced before, although she had thought about it prior to this; the right situation with the right guys had never come up. She briefly imagined herself doing it like that as she turned on her side, moving her hand under the pillow to bring it more under her head. There was something under the pillow. She sat up and lifted the pillow and saw an envelope with her name on it. Her name was written in her father's handwriting. Nikki knew he had hid it under her pillow to avoid her mother finding out. She picked up the envelope and opened it. There was a letter inside, and she began reading it. "Nikki, Your mother has probably already talked with you about what is happening, but, in case she has not, I will try to explain. Over the years, your mother and I have grown apart, or more accurately, I have grown away from her. I have been restless for a number of years with a feeling that I can not explain. I have not been faithful to your mother. Not to hurt her, which it most certainly has, but because I felt it would make my life fuller. I am not the kind of person that should be married, that is clear to me now. Marriage is a great institution, and I hope my actions will not discourage you from it. When you find that special man, do not be afraid to make the commitment. No man would take the chance of losing you once he has won your heart. In closing, your mother is a kind, gentle woman, and the best thing that ever happened in my life was marrying her and having a wonderful daughter like you. And I will always be there for you, if you want. Love, Dad" Nikki wiped away a tear that had threatened to run down her cheek. The letter really got to her. It conveyed to her the sadness that her father felt over the impending divorce, at least with how it would affect their own relationship. And all because he wanted to have a little fun, sleep with some other women. Nikki understood her father better than her mother ever would. She felt she ought to go see him, to tell him that she didn't hate him, that she understood. She used her phone to call his office, thinking he would be there. "Brendan, Mackie, Fister & Elliot." "Hi, Marylin, it's Nikki Elliot... Is my father available?" "Why no, Nikki. He said he would be working out of your house today." "Oh, okay," Nikki said, realizing he was out at the beach house. "I'm calling from Big Bear. I didn't realize he was at home. Thanks." Nikki got up and picked out some shorts and a sleeveless blouse to wear, planning to sneak out of the house so she wouldn't have to tell her mother where she was going. Running off to see Dad might give her the wrong idea, make her think she was taking sides. Jonas Elliot sat in a beach chair on the back deck, looking out at the Pacific, as he polished off his third margarita. It felt good to just relax on a Friday. He'd worked too hard recently. He might even retire if his financial advisor said he could swing it with the alimony he'd be paying. 'Hell, maybe she'll go for a lump sum plus the house,' he thought, like an attorney. It also felt good to think that, in a few months, he'd be a free man, at least socially. Until then, he was going to keep a low profile. There was no sense in rubbing Stella's nose in it if she had her private eye still watching him. From inside the house came the sound of bells. 'Christ, who can that be?' Jonas thought as he listened to the door chimes fade to silence. There was no sense trying to act like he wasn't there; his Lexus was parked outside. He put his glass down and walked to the front door, pulling up the swim trunks that he was wearing, for the first time noticing the effects of the alcohol. He was feeling a little tipsy. The doorbell sounded again, and he put his eye to the peephole. "Well, well." He opened the door, and Carmen gave him a big smile. She was wearing black Spandex pants and a pink blouse. "Hi, Jonas... mind if I come in?" she asked. "No, come on in. Where's Lance?" "He had to go to Vegas on business. I came to see how you were doing. I feel so bad about all the trouble," she moved past him into the entry hall."You shouldn't feel bad about it. It was bound to happen at some point. I certainly don't regret that afternoon." He ogled her ass and legs through her tight-fitting pants. God, she was bred for the bed! Carmen turned her gaze from the ocean through the glass living room wall and back to him. "I loved every minute of that afternoon myself," she said provocatively, before looking back out at the ocean. "What a great view...I just love the ocean. It reminds me of home." "Would you like a drink?" Jonas asked, walking by her toward the back deck. "I've got some margaritas made." "That sounds great." Jonas got another glass from the kitchen and led his attractive guest out onto the deck. He poured her a glass and a little more for himself. "Cheers," Carmen toasted as she leaned against the railing. "So, what's Lance doing in Vegas?" Jonas asked. Maybe Carmen could give him some insight on what his brother did exactly. "I don't know. He just said business. He's very secretive, you know." "Yeah, he sure is," Jonas agreed. "Sometimes secrets are okay," Carmen said, running a finger around the rim of her glass. "For instance, Lance doesn't know that I'm here today." Jonas could see the implication. From her body language - the finger on the glass, the smile following her statement, the tilt of the head - she probably wanted to have sex. He certainly wouldn't mind that. But Lance probably would. Swinging was all right; fucking behind someone's back was not. "Maybe you ought to leave," he said, though his voice inflection hinted that he was being facetious. "No, I don't want to leave," Carmen said, walking over to stand in front of him and run her cold fingers in his chest hair. "I told you how much I love the ocean...I don't think I ever want to leave here." "So, you're going to dump my brother for me?" he said, his voice with a little edge at the suggestion. "A girl's got to look out for herself...part of the whole swinging thing is networking, meeting other people and moving on. Lance is a great lover but I'm looking for some...security." 'So, that's the way it is! Carmen's looking for a sugar daddy.... I hate to burst her bubble but I'm not looking for any waves right now... she doesn't need to know that right away, however.' "So, you'd like to apply for a position here at the Elliot beach house?" he said, wrapping an arm around her slender waist and openly eyeing her bountiful cleavage. Carmen ran her hand up around his neck and leaned into him, looking triumphant. "I like all kinds of positions, Mr. Elliot," she said, loaded with double entendre. "Good...I can think of a few that we haven't tried yet." He kissed her and she teased him with a little tongue, pressing her flat belly against his crotch and her firm tits into his chest. He dispensed with any more talk and led her back inside, taking a right turn in the foyer to bring them to the master bedroom. The bed was still unmade from the previous evening, the covers kicked down to the end of the bed, but Carmen didn't seem to notice. She looked again out at the Pacific and the Jacuzzi just outside the glass wall of the suite; it had been hidden by a row of plant boxes before. "How about a Jacuzzi after we're through?" Carmen asked as she kicked off her heels and began unbuttoning her blouse. "That can be arranged," Jonas said, pulling off his swim trunks and getting on the bed naked. "But you'll have to wear some clothes. The house next door can look over at us in the daytime." "Ooooh. You're no fun!" Carmen kidded him, taking off her blouse. Her tanned tits looked good enough to eat, just as perfect as science could make them. She reminded him of some of the strippers down at the Jet Strip club; just sexier than hell and she seemed to love being naked. He bunched some pillows up behind his head and watched her strip down naked, pulling on his rising cock to get it ready for his little filly. She pulled her pants and panties down at the same time, bending over facing away from him to give him a nice look at her saucer-shaped sex nestling up at the top of her thighs. 'God, I'm sorry I ever doubted you!' he thought as Carmen succeeded in freeing her ankles from the clothing and turned back to him. "We're going to have such a good time here," she promised, crawling up over his legs on her hands and knees, her tits looking so large, hanging down like grapefruits. 'A good time today....then I'm packing you back to Lance unfortunately. I'd love to keep her but the downside's too great,' he thought. She stopped with her hands on either of his hips and looked down at his rising manhood which he continued to pump erect. The sight of her lovely face hovering just above it was enough to double the flow of starch. "You're all man, baby," Carmen stroked him verbally. She dipped her shoulders quickly and planted a light kiss on the underside of his glans, then rose back up, teasing him. Looking forward to another great suck job, Jonas spread his legs and she shifted her knees off the bed one at a time to accommodate the maneuver. Now he was ready to lay back and enjoy her lips on his nearly-erect prick. But she had other ideas. She walked slightly further over him and then lowered her hips onto his, supporting herself on her straight arms and her knees. He removed his hand from his hard-on, letting it move up onto her lower back as she began a humping motion with her ass, grinding her trimmed line of snatch along the underside of his shaft. "Oooooo, that dick feels so hard," she cooed down at him. "Mmmmm, all for you, my dear," Jonas promised. As she continued her crotch-to-crotch masturbation, he moved both arms under her armpits, letting his hands caress her upper back. She might have taken this as an invitation to snuggle because she lowered her body further down on his, squashing her augmented titties into his hairy chest. As her torso was shorter than his, she moved a little further up his body to kiss him again. As their lips danced, he ran his hands down her back, tracing the bumping outline of her backbone and then swooping them up the rise of her sexy ass which she was still wiggling against him. 'I'm gonna fuck this girl 'til she's bowlegged!' Jonas swore. Nikki waited to make a left turn from the center turn lane of the Pacific Coast Highway in front of her family's beach house, oncoming cars whizzing by. Her father's Lexus was parked in front of the wall that hid the house from passing cars and minimized traffic noise; there was only twenty feet of gravel from the wall to the edge of the busy road. As you were driving between Malibu and Santa Monica, all one really saw on the ocean side was a bunch of walls; only from the beach or water could you really get an idea of the luxury of the homes, standing up on elaborate stilts to protect them from the occasional storm tides. Seeing a break in the traffic, Nikki quickly gunned her BMW across the oncoming lane and pulled her car beside her father's car and a black Mustang which she took to belong to the neighboring house. She got out, locked the car and walked over to the wall gate. This they usually left open and it was open that day. She walked down a few steps through the planted entrance atrium to the front door and used her key to open the front door. Stepping inside, she began to call out a greeting. "Da-" "EEEEYYYY!" She cut her call off as a high-pitched shriek reverberated down the hallway from her parents' bedroom. Nikki had made that kind of noise before in the midst of a regular activity of hers - having sex. She stood stock-still, the door still open. She heard other noises but there was some car noise coming through the door which masked what they were. Slowly, she closed the door and the sounds turned into faint gasps and some voices but they were too faint to make out. 'Nikki, you should get the hell out of here,' her common sense told her. It was apparent that her father was entertaining someone at the moment. But she was unable to bring herself to go back out the door. She'd been thinking about her father's sexual activities all the way over there - what had gone on at Uncle Lance's condo, how many other women he had cheated with, if he fucked them at work, or maybe here at the beach house. God knows she'd had! An empty beach house to which she had the keys - this place had been her little love shack many a night. She'd even banged guys back in Daddy's bed. Just thinking about it got her blood flowing. Nikki moved slowly down the hallway, keeping close to the wall. The hallway was about twenty feet long and it was apparent that the door was open to her parents' room. She'd have to be careful looking in the room; her father's bed was against the wall she was keeping close to, facing the ocean. If he was facing the headboard, a simple turn of his head might catch a glimpse of her in the hallway. "Fuck...yeahhhh...move that ass," her father's voice came from the room, quite clear now that she was only a few feet away. Nikki could hear the faint sounds of linen and mattress springs and feminine sighing. Ever so slowly, she peeked around the door frame and got an eyeful. There was a drop-dead, gorgeous woman on top of her father; Nikki recognized her as the woman in the photos from the desert. The woman was almost laying on her father, kissing him as she humped her ass back and forth, obviously fucking herself on her papa's manhood. Because she was looking at them from a little above their heads and from the side, she couldn't see any penetration, just their two bellies pressed together and the flexing hips and thighs of Ms. Hardbody. 'God, she is totally hot!' Nikki thought, appreciating the woman's body as a sometime lesbian. Skin so tanned, great tits and ass. She wouldn't mind making love to a woman like that."Ooooooooh, mmmmmmmmm, mmmmmmmmm," Hardbody gasped as she ended their long kiss and raised herself up on her straight arms. She started throwing her hips back and forth, rutting away on her cheating father. Nikki pulled her face back slightly in case she should happen to look over, but it seemed pretty unlikely - the two fornicators were oblivious to anything except each other. "Fuck that pussy at me!" her father encouraged, digging his fingers into the woman's thighs. It almost took her breath away to hear him talking like that. He was the authority figure in her life, and hearing him spout off like any other hot-blooded male was strange. It made him more human.

Part 3

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11135.txt

The Warthog

Compensation for Damages

"Thank goodness it's Friday," said Mary. "You got that right," added Kevin. Mary and Kevin were on their way to dinner and then to a movie. They both had had a grueling week and looked forward to a relaxing evening out. It was July, it was hot, and Kevin had begun to perspire. As Kevin fiddled with the truck's air conditioner, Mary went down a mental list of restaurants that the couple liked. Kevin couldn't help noticing Mary's sexy legs as he adjusted the air. They were covered by a pair of black thigh-high stockings. Kevin also noticed that Mary was wearing a new pair of black high-heel shoes with the new flair-styled heel. He had noticed earlier when they left the house that her five-foot-three-inch frame seemed to be three or four inches taller than usual. Very sexy, he thought. The rest of her outfit wasn't bad either. A mid-thigh-length black wrap-around skirt just barely hid Mary's stocking tops. Her red silk blouse fit her figure nicely, and he liked the way her lovely breasts pushed against the shiny material. Mary had obviously spent some extra time on her shoulder-length brown hair, and her makeup added a touch of sensuality to her pretty face. Kevin was very proud of Mary. He loved to go out and show off his beautiful wife. "KEVIN, WATCH OUT!" yelled Mary. Kevin looked up in time to see a car stopped in the road, signaling for a left turn. He slammed on the brakes, but it was too late. BANG!!!! "SONOFABITCH," bellowed Kevin. Kevin looked over the hood of his truck at the back of an old Caddy. He realized that he had lingered on Mary's exquisite body too long and hadn't been paying attention to the road. The collision had been hard, but it didn't appear to be too serious. Thankfully, they were wearing their seat belts. Kevin looked at Mary and said, "Are you OK, Mary?" Mary nodded with a slightly whiter complexion. Before she could say anything, she heard a tap on the side window. Kevin and Mary looked out the window. Standing there and motioning for Kevin to get out was a rather large, muscular black man who looked mad enough to roll Kevin's truck over with his bare hands. Kevin got out of the truck very slowly and checked the traffic. It wasn't too heavy, and the cars behind them were using the shoulder to get by. Kevin said, "Hey, man, I'm real sorry about this." The man said, "Yeah, I bet you are. What's the matter with you, man? I've got a car full of men who can't bend their necks because of you. You messed up the back end of my car. I hope you have insurance, man." Kevin's insurance had run out three months earlier. The premiums had gone up, and he couldn't afford it anymore. Kevin surveyed the damage and realized that it wasn't that bad but would probably cost more than he had at the moment. Kevin was in a bind. He hoped he could reason with the man. Kevin turned back to the man and said, "I'm sorry, man, I don't have any insurance. I don't have the cash to pay for the damages, but I can pay you a little each month." "Don't give me that shit," interrupted the man. Before Kevin could reply, three more huge black men joined the discussion. "What's the story, Rab?" asked one of the men. "He ain't got any insurance, man, and he can't pay for the damage," said Rab. He added, "Nick, go get the police." "Ah, let's see if we can work this out without the cops," said Kevin. Kevin didn't want another run-in with the police. Part of the reason Kevin's insurance rates had gone up was because of a minor accident he had six months earlier. He had had a few drinks that night when he lost control, drove off into a ditch, and hit a street lamp. Kevin was charged with DWI, and the judge hit him with a stiff fine and put him on probation for a year. Kevin was afraid that if the cops were brought in now, he would lose his license and probably would have to do some jail time. To make matters worse, he had a package under the seat that he was carrying for a friend. He wasn't sure, but he suspected it was full of drugs. "Whooeeee, check it out," said another of Rab's passengers as he gestured to Mary. She had stepped down out of the truck and was walking around it to join Kevin. "Is everything OK, Kevin?" asked Mary. "No, it is not, lady," said Rab. Rab took a good look at Mary, starting at her high heels and with obvious interest slowly shifting his gaze up her sexy body. He lingered on the bulge of her breasts and let his tongue wet his lips. Mary blushed at the obvious inspection of her body. Rab wasn't the only inspector. The other three men were ogling Mary at the same time. A plan began to form in Rab's head. He could see that the wimpy white boy was intimidated by his size and obvious strength. He also had his men with him. Kevin had said that he wanted to avoid getting the cops involved. Rab figured correctly that Kevin had been in some kind of trouble before. He knew he could probably get anything he wanted out of Kevin. "Tell you what, man, why don't we let your lady pay for the damages," said Rab as he leered at Mary's butt secure in her tight skirt. "I'm afraid my wife can't afford it either," said Kevin. "Can't afford it either," mocked Rab. He added, "Isn't that too bad?" The other men, picking up on what Rab was doing, nodded and agreed that it was too bad. Rab continued, "Well, Kevin, maybe your wife has other assets." Kevin didn't like the sound of this. He looked at Mary and saw worry in her eyes. "What do you mean?" asked Kevin. Rab turned his gaze to the direction of the setting sun and said, "As I see it, you have only one way to pay off. Allow your wife to be our guest at a party we're having. It should be over when the sun comes up." Kevin knew what the man had in mind. He looked at Mary. She was looking at him with big, brown, frightened eyes. Kevin didn't know if Mary had figured it out, but he was certain that she was scared. "I can't do that to my wife," said Kevin. Rab put a huge arm around Kevin's shoulder and said, "Kevin, you are in a tough situation. You can't pay for the damage to my car, and who knows when one of us might have neck trouble. That will cost a lot more. You don't want the police. You have two choices. Either your wife joins us or we call the police." He added with a toothy grin, "We'll even invite you along too." Kevin said nothing. Mary said, "Do something, Kevin. I don't want to go with them." There was nothing Kevin could do. He thought for a moment about jumping into his truck and getting out of there. If only Mary had stayed in the truck. With her out of the truck, there was no way both of them could make it. Kevin suspected that they were going to take Mary no matter what he did and probably rough him up pretty bad. If he agreed, maybe they wouldn't hurt him. They said they would take him along. At least he would be with Mary. He hoped they wouldn't hurt her if he was there. "Take her," was all Kevin said. He couldn't look at Mary. "Kevin," exclaimed Mary as Rab put his hand on Mary's shoulder. The frightened girl knew that Kevin had just paid off the accident damages with her body. She knew about his DWI probation. She knew that he was in a tough bind. She had hoped that he could have found a way out. She still had hopes. She couldn't believe this was happening to her. Mary struggled against Rab as he led her to his car. He said, "It will go a lot easier on you if you do what I say." Mary understood the implied threat. She allowed Rab to lead her to his car. Before he put her in the back seat, she looked back at Kevin. Kevin looked up at Mary and said, "I'm sorry, baby." Rab pushed Mary in the car, looked at Kevin, and said, "Nick will go with you and make sure you find my place." He got into the car. The other two men got into the back seat with Mary. Rab started the car and pulled away. Kevin and Nick got into the truck and followed the old Caddy. Kevin looked at Nick and said, "Rab won't hurt Mary, will he?" "Naw, if she's a good girl, she'll be fine," said Nick. Kevin wasn't convinced. "You're all going to have sex with her, aren't you?" asked Kevin. "Let's just say that we will introduce the little lady to the taste of dark meat," said Nick with a chuckle. Kevin didn't say another word as they drove.Ten minutes later, they pulled up in front of a very old house five miles from town. There wasn't another house in sight. As Kevin entered the house, he saw Mary and asked, "Are you OK?" Mary nodded, but was obviously frightened of her predicament. The look she gave Kevin indicated a growing anger at her husband for putting her in this situation. The house was very small. It was a two-room house with a kitchen on the wall to the right and a sofa on the wall to the left. There was a table against the wall next to the front door. A door at the far end of the room led to a small bedroom and bathroom. Next to the door was a fireplace that was closed up for the summer. The place had no air conditioning, and although both windows were open, it was very warm inside. The house was clean but had a musty smell. Mary couldn't wait to leave. Rab walked over to an old refrigerator, opened it, and pulled out a six-pack. He threw the cans to the man he called Jim. Jim peeled off the cans and handed one to everyone. "Have a seat," said Rab, pulling out a chair for Kevin. Kevin sat down as Rab motioned for Mary to come over to him. Jim, Nick, and the one they called Pop sat down on the closest chair or sofa. Rab began, "Now, Mary, we're gonna have a party tonight. If you relax, I know you will have a good time. If you fight us, you will not like what happens. Remember, you are compensation for damages. Do you understand?" Mary nodded. She understood that she was compensation, but she wasn't sure what they wanted her to do. She had an idea, but hoped that she was wrong. Rab continued, "OK, Mary. Now, why are you here tonight?" Mary replied timidly, "I am compensation for damages." Rab said, "That's right, baby. Now, what are we doing tonight?" Mary paused, not sure what Rab wanted. Finally, she guessed, "Having a party?" Rab smiled and said, "That's right, baby. Now, what are we going to do at the party?" Mary thought she knew what Rab wanted her to say and blushed. She was too embarrassed to say it. Rab nodded his head for her to continue. Mary looked at Kevin for help, but Kevin just gave her a helpless look. Finally, she dropped her head and softly said, "Have sex." "What, I didn't hear you?" said Rab loudly. Mary looked up at Rab with teary eyes and with more volume repeated, "Have sex." Rab's smile returned as he said, "What a fine idea, baby, and who are my men and I going to have sex with?" Mary was red with humiliation as she said, "Me." Rab nodded and continued, "Very good, baby. Now, to get us in the mood to have sex with you, we would like for you to remove your clothes." Mary was blushing a dark shade of red. Her fear had paralyzed her. When she didn't comply with Rab's request, he moved in front of her and began to work on the top button of her blouse. He said, "I guess you need a little help, huh, baby?" After Rab had one button undone, he took the parted halves of Mary's blouse in each hand and violently ripped the front open, popping the buttons off from collar to skirt. Mary gasped with the sudden horror of Rab's action. Tears ran from her eyes, and her mouth remained open. "You should finish removing your clothes by yourself," suggested Rab, stepping back. He added, "Do you understand?" Mary nodded and quickly began the task. It was clear to her that Rab would not hesitate to hurt her if she displeased him. She finished removing her ruined blouse, exposing a red satin bra. Mary's large breasts bulged in the confines of the sexy bra. Her nipples were just barely covered, and her cleavage was deep. Every cock in the room instantly grew at least an inch, even Kevin's. Kevin loved to look at Mary's body. When he was with her, his cock was always in some state of hardness. Even under the circumstances, his body still reacted to Mary's sexy body. Kevin hoped that Mary wouldn't notice. Next, Mary removed her skirt, exposing her matching red satin panties. She began to remove her shoes and stockings, but Rab said, "Leave your shoes and stockings on, baby." Rab looked at Mary's body appreciatively. He asked, "Baby, what do you measure?" Mary replied very softly, "37D-23-36." Rab whistled, and the others whistled and hooted along. Rab moved closer to Mary, and she recoiled slightly. Rab raised a hand and began to gently cup Mary's left breast, still encased in her red bra. She turned her head in shame and looked at the wall, anywhere but at one of these men. She didn't even want to look at Kevin. He had betrayed her, and she was aware that he was aroused at her state of dress. Under other circumstances, that fact would have pleased her, but not now. Rab carefully peeled the cup off Mary's breast so that the nipple was visible. He licked his lips at the sight of her cute pink nipple. "Now, kneel down right here, baby," said Rab as he gestured to the floor. Mary didn't move. Her mind was elsewhere, anywhere but this place. Rab put two big paws on Mary's shoulders and pushed her down. She groaned as her shoulders registered discomfort. Her knees ached from the hardness of the floor. Rab said, "Baby, I want a little more cooperation out of you. I'm getting tired of having to do everything. You're mine for the rest of the night. I expect better from you. Do you understand?" Mary didn't answer. She looked up at Rab with an attempt at defiance. Rab noticed and immediately glared at Mary, repeating loudly, "Do you understand?" Mary nodded quickly and said, "Yes." Rab continued, "Good, now I want you to undo my pants and pull out my cock." Mary cringed but complied. She unbuttoned Rab's pants and pulled them to his knees. A very large bulge filled Mary's vision. Then, with care, so as not to scratch Rab with her long red fingernails, she slipped her fingers into the waistband of his briefs and pulled them down. Mary was not ready for the extended length of Rab's cock. The force of his erection propelled the ten-inch shaft up, slapping Mary in the face with a thud. She lurched back with surprise and stared at the huge cock. Rab laughed at the trick his cock played on Mary. He couldn't wait to have her moist, bright red lips wrapped around his shaft. "Suck it," he said without compassion. Mary looked at the enormous shaft and then pleadingly at Kevin. Kevin shrugged and said, "I'm sorry, baby, but the sooner you do them, the sooner they'll let us go." Mary reddened with anger as she realized that her husband would be no help to her. In fact, he was encouraging her to submit to the depraved demands of these men. She was tempted to teach Kevin a lesson by doing what these men wanted with a little added enthusiasm. He deserved a little humiliation for his betrayal and lack of support. Mary couldn't delay any longer. Rab was getting agitated. She quickly closed her eyes while stuffing the huge cock head into her mouth. Mary almost gagged on the foul taste of sweat and male secretions. The head of Rab's cock was the size of a plum, and Mary's mouth had to stretch wide around the thing. Rab groaned with pleasure as his cock head was surrounded by the warm and wet female mouth. He could feel his balls swell as more sperm was produced. It had been a while since he had been with a woman, much less a very sexy white woman. It was his first experience with a white woman. He marveled at the whiteness of her cheeks as they hollowed with suction. Her milky skin was a stark contrast to his coal-black cock. Rab felt himself getting hotter and hotter. He knew he would cum soon. He became even hotter at the thought of filling this white woman's mouth with his seed. Mary now had both hands on Rab's cock, and there was still several inches exposed for her to suck. Despite her disgust and anger, she took to Kevin's words and began to suck and stroke Rab's cock as best she could. The sooner he was spent, the sooner she would be let go, or so she thought. Rab began to respond to Mary's treatment. He began to thrust into her mouth as she sucked. He grabbed her head with both hands. Sweat was pouring off Rab's face and dripping onto Mary's hair. She had now managed to open her mouth wider in order to take more of Rab's cock. The head now pushed against the back of Mary's throat. As Rab's thrusts became more pronounced, the head entered her throat. Mary gagged violently, but Rab continued the thrusts. Mary had to time her gasps for breath between Rab's strokes. To everyone's amazement, Mary was now taking all ten inches of Rab's cock. Gagging sounds could still be heard from Mary, but Rab didn't care. The sight of her nose buried in his pubic hair put Rab over the edge. As he pulled back for one last big stroke, his cock began spitting out his very thick cum into Mary's mouth. It had been a while since his last ejaculation. Mary clamped her throat shut to avoid swallowing. The tightness between her lips and Rab's cock would not allow the sperm to escape the seal. Mary's mouth began to fill with the potent seed. Rab's final thrust into Mary's mouth pushed past her closed throat and ensured that the last several squirts of sperm drained directly into her belly. Rab held Mary impaled on his cock for several moments until the last deposit had been made. Finally, he pulled out, and Mary began to gasp for breath. Sperm and saliva dripped out of Mary's mouth as she struggled for breath. After a minute had gone by, she appeared to have recovered her breath. Rab fell back onto a chair after pulling out of Mary's mouth and watched her recover. The difficulty she was having didn't seem to bother him. He considered her simply a possession that he would use to the fullest and share with his men. Rab gestured to Mary and said, "Nick, check out her pussy, man." Nick stood up and walked up behind Mary. She now seemed to be somewhat recovered. He reached down and picked her up under the arms and pulled her to her feet. Mary was still facing Rab and Kevin, and she looked at Kevin still hoping he could do something. Kevin's face was full of shame.He had not been able to help Mary through this ordeal. He wasn't strong enough to take on all four of these giants. He asked, "Mary, are you all right?" Mary nodded just barely and started to say something but stopped as she felt Nick's big hands slide under her arms and around to cup her breasts. He held her close to him, and she could tell that he was naked. His cock pressed against the small of her back. She knew that he would want to put it in her vagina. Nick squeezed Mary's breasts. He loved the feel of the satin bra that she wore, but he wanted to feel those great tits. Nick managed to unhook the fastener between the bra cups and slowly peeled the garment off. His hands went back to work on Mary's now naked breasts. Nick enjoyed pinching her nipples. Mary watched his big black hands work on her creamy white breasts. Despite the circumstances, Mary was aroused by the stimulation. She fought to hold back the arousal, but her body betrayed her. Kevin noticed this and wondered how Mary could be enjoying Nick's touch. Next, Nick worked his hands down Mary's body and slipped them underneath the very brief panties she wore. He began to tease Mary's clitoris with one hand while stroking her slit with the other. Mary leaned her head back against Nick's chest and closed her eyes. Kevin watched Mary's pelvis slowly push forward against Nick's hands. Mary was unaware that her hips were moving involuntarily to meet Nick's strokes. Hints of jealousy touched Kevin. His wife seemed to be getting off on this other man's touch. Nick had now tired of playing with Mary. He suddenly picked Mary up like she was light as a feather and walked over to the kitchen table and laid her down. Nick roughly pulled Mary's ass to the edge of the table and ripped off her panties. Mary was shocked at the sudden rough treatment after being touched so gently by Nick. Without warning, he plunged his eight-inch cock into Mary's pussy. He was surprised at how wet Mary was. So was she. Nick's penetration reached five inches on the first thrust. Two more strokes had his balls deep into this fine, sexy white woman. As he stroked her hard, Nick let his hands wander over Mary's smooth, white, and slightly damp skin. The heat had caused a thin sheen of perspiration on her body. It almost looked like she had been oiled up. Nick liked the way she looked, and he liked the little grunts she made with each thrust. Mary's pussy was now very wet, and his cock felt like it was being massaged by a velvet glove. Nick began to pump faster and faster. He was now slamming into Mary hard. The table began to slide slightly back and forth across the floor. Mary recognized that Nick would soon cum. She had to make sure that he didn't cum inside her. Mary was not on the pill. Her method of contraception was a diaphragm, and she was without it. Mary couldn't remember for sure, but she thought that it was time for her to start ovulating. She grunted to Nick between thrusts, "Please don't cum inside me. You'll make me pregnant." Mary's words surprised both Kevin and Nick. Nick figured that most women used the pill, and Kevin wondered why his wife wasn't wearing her diaphragm. Nick picked Mary up with his cock still buried in her pussy and moved over to the sofa. Jim got up to make room for the couple. Nick laid Mary down, allowing his cock to pull out of her pussy with an audible pop. He then straddled her waist, trapping her arms between her sides and his legs, and began to rub his slick shaft against her belly. Nick said, "So you don't want Nick to put a baby in your belly? Well, that's okay, it gives me a chance to fuck those big titties of yours." Mary's face showed relief as she realized that Nick was not going to cum inside her. Mary enjoyed it when Kevin fucked her tits. She found herself becoming more and more aroused and actually looked forward to seeing that big black cock sliding between her tits. Mary waited anxiously as Nick inched his cock up between her tits. He used both hands to fold the large, soft mounds over his cock. Mary had been quite wet when Nick's cock was in her pussy. The residual wetness was ample lubrication for Nick's cock. Nick plunged his cock over and over through the makeshift tube between Mary's tits. After several minutes, he moved his hands from the sides of her tits to the nipples. He grabbed each one and used them as handles to hold Mary's tits into place. This caused Mary to push her head back into the cushion of the sofa and close her eyes. She tried to suppress a moan but with little success. Mary's pussy was now dripping as Nick stimulated her nipples. The folds of her pussy lips were swollen, and her clitoris was extended. Jim busied himself by running two of his fingers in and out of Mary's pussy while his thumb strummed her clitoris. Despite being forced into this situation, she now found herself enjoying the sex. In fact, Mary couldn't remember when she had felt this good, even with Kevin. Mary was and is a very sexual woman. Nick could feel the cum boiling in his balls. He knew he would have to cum soon. He looked at Mary's pretty face and said, "Hey, baby, I'm about to blow my load. Would you like it in your mouth?" Mary was unable to answer as she crashed through a violent orgasm. Jim observed, "Will you look at that, the lady is popping off." Mary's guttural moans pushed Nick over the edge. He raised up and began to dump his load on Mary's face, "Here you go, baby." The first squirt was a rope that connected Mary's left ear and mouth by way of her nose. Mary's orgasm had subsided, and she became aware of the cum shower Nick was giving her. She was surprised at the pleasure it gave her to feel rope after rope of Nick's thick goo splatter onto her face. She glanced at Kevin, who continued to sport a helpless look, and knew what she wanted to do. Mary freed her arm and reached up to grab Nick's spent cock. She began to rub the shaft all over her face. Mary looked right at her husband's wimpy face as she used the large shaft to scoop clumps of cum into her mouth. She savored each thick glob as its flavor was introduced to her tongue. Finally, still looking at Kevin, Mary said, "Nick, as much as I like the taste of your cum, I now wish that you had cum in my pussy." Kevin's face registered shock at Mary's words. Mary just looked at Kevin with disgust. Kevin had gotten himself into trouble, and now she was having to bail him out. At least she was getting some pleasure out of the deal. Jim was next, and he didn't waste any time. He was out of his clothes when Nick had made his deposit. Jim high-fived Nick as they traded places. Mary seemed delighted as Jim pushed the head of his eleven-inch cock into her very wet pussy. A cock the size of Jim's would not normally fit Mary's tight pussy, but Nick had stretched her out. Her wetness allowed four inches of Jim's huge tool to enter, but he was dry, and it would take several strokes to fully coat the monster shaft. Not only was Jim long, but he was incredibly thick. While Rab and Nick had been slightly thicker than the average cock, Jim was much thicker, measuring seven inches around. With each new thrust, Jim gained an inch or two of penetration into Mary. She grunted loudly with each thrust. Finally, Mary's pussy cream had fully lubricated Jim's big tool. It glistened in the dim light with Mary's juice. Kevin looked on with horror at what Jim was doing to Mary's pussy. He wondered if it would ever return to its tight condition. He suspected his more modest cock would be lost in her enlarged hole. Jim began to give it to Mary harder. Soon the strokes were a full eleven inches. Meanwhile, Pop had joined Mary and Jim and began playing with Mary's big tits. He alternated squeezing each tit as Jim plowed into her pussy. Kevin looked on with sorrow. At one point, he began to tear up as Mary looked at him with alternating disgust and passion as the two black men stimulated her body. Kevin looked around for Rab and noticed that he wasn't behind him anymore. He looked over his shoulder and noticed that Rab was talking on the phone. He strained to hear the conversation, but Rab was speaking low. Just before Rab hung up, Kevin thought he heard him say "See you in a minute." Kevin realized with dread that Mary might not be finished after Jim and Pop were. Jim continued to pump Mary full stroke. Mary's body continued to react to the stimulation that was quite pleasurable. Her pussy was red hot, and she continued to lubricate fully. After five minutes of absorbing Jim's thrusts, Mary could feel the beginnings of another orgasm. Suddenly, Mary tensed up and shuddered as the biggest orgasm of her life overtook her. It lasted a good thirty seconds. She gushed around Jim's massive tool. Pop noticed Mary's condition and alerted everyone when he said, "The bitch is getting off again on Jim's cock." Everyone cheered except Kevin, who simply dropped his head in shame. Jim continued on, full of stamina. Mary was whimpering now when she wasn't consumed with an orgasm. After ten minutes, Jim moved Mary's legs to rest on his shoulders. He then leaned forward, forcing Mary's legs against her tits. Her ass was now raised off the sofa, and Jim was able to penetrate her pussy deeper. He recalled Mary's plea to Nick not to cum inside her pussy and then her statement wishing he had after Nick had satisfied her. For some reason, the thought of knocking up this white woman thrilled him. The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea of planting a black baby inside her. Jim grunted, "Hey, baby, my balls have been churning out loads of sperm ever since I first laid eyes on you. How would you like me to quench that thirsty pussy of yours?" Mary's eyes popped open wide as the repercussions of Jim's words registered. She looked over at Kevin, and his pathetic expression made up her mind. "Shoot it up my pussy," demanded Mary."If I caused all that sperm to be made, then I think it's only right that you give it to me," she added with a growl, "I want you to make my white body pregnant with your black baby." That was all Jim could take. With one last mighty thrust, he lodged his cock deep inside Mary's pussy and let gravity assist his pulsing black cock in fertilizing the wanton white woman. Mary closed her eyes tight as she concentrated deeply on feeling the flowing sperm enter her fertile womb. After a while, she opened her eyes and looked up at Jim and whispered, "Thank you." Mary then turned to look at her pathetic husband and saw his shocked look. She smiled at Kevin, and he wondered if his marriage was over. He cursed himself for putting his wife into this situation just to save his ass. After Jim was certain that every ounce of his cum had been deposited into Mary, he pulled out and sat back. Pop had already gotten off the sofa and was busy losing his clothes. Once Jim had caught his breath, he got up and moved over to Mary's head. She eagerly used her tongue to clean off the remnants of their coupling. Pop gave Mary a couple of minutes to recover before maneuvering her into position. Mary was on hands and knees on the sofa, and Pop was aligning his eight-inch cock with her pussy. He shoved in with no difficulty at all. After Mary had taken Jim, she was so stretched out and sloppy with cum that Pop was hardly getting any stimulation. It was obvious what he had to do. Pop pulled out. Mary looked around to see what was going on. Pop dipped his fingers into Mary's gaping hole and collected sufficient lubrication for his needs. He proceeded to lather up Mary's cute little pink rose. Anal sex was foreign to Mary, and she didn't understand what Pop was doing. She found out suddenly when Pop pushed the head of his cock into her rectum. Before Mary knew it, Pop was five inches deep. Mary moaned with pain, but the worst was over. After a few more strokes, Pop's relatively thin cock was buried balls deep. Mary began to relax, and then to her surprise, the pleasurable sensations began to grow and grow. She never imagined that anal sex would feel so good. Mary was surprised that it felt as good as vaginal sex and maybe even better. As Pop was taking Mary's anal cherry, the door opened, and another black man entered. Mary was too occupied with the anal sex to notice. The man noticed Mary, however. He said, "Man, what a hot bitch. She's taking Pop in the ass?" Rab nodded. The door opened again, and another man came in, followed by another and another. Kevin looked at the increasing number of black men and began to feel sick. The door finally closed after twelve more men had crowded into the room. As Pop continued banging Mary in the ass, she found that orgasms were nearly continuous. After one particularly long orgasm, she opened her eyes to see the room full of men. She was only a little embarrassed as she realized that all these men could see her naked body being fucked in the ass. She also realized that the night was going to be a long one. She wasn't disappointed. Kevin stood up, looked at Rab, and said, "You can't let all these men fuck her. It will kill her. The deal was just the four of you." Rab pushed Kevin back down and said, "The deal was until the sun comes up. I never said anything about just four. By the clock over there on the wall, I expect that we'll have another seven hours to sample your wife. Hell, I haven't even fucked her yet." By this time, Pop was about to pop. He timed it so that Mary was distracted by an orgasm. He quickly pulled out, moved his cock to Mary's wide-open mouth, and pushed it down her throat. Before Mary knew what had happened, Pop was depositing his load directly into her belly. Without thinking, she clamped her lips down on the soiled cock. When Pop finally pulled it out, it was clean as a whistle. When Pop had moved out, there was a new man to take his place. Each and every man was anxious to get a crack at Mary. It soon became clear that Mary would have to service two or more men at a time. They took her on in every hole. Usually, two and sometimes all three of her holes were filled at once. Occasionally, one of the men not using Mary would get overheated while stroking his cock. They usually would dump their load on Mary's body. Kevin took it all in with growing frustration. It was plainly obvious that Mary was enjoying the ordeal. Occasionally, she would glance at Kevin and smile. She continued to ask for more sperm in her pussy. She said to one man, "I want to make sure I leave this place pregnant." Kevin realized that Mary would likely never forgive him for what he had done to her and that she was punishing him by trying to get pregnant. With the many loads of sperm deposited into her body and most of those in her pussy, she was almost certainly pregnant. At one point during the early hours of the morning, the door opened, and another ten men crowded in. Mary noticed, but her face could only register her umpteenth orgasm of the night. The place was so crowded that those who had just been with Mary had to go outside when they were finished. As the sun came up, there were still men who wanted Mary, but Rab was true to his word. He suggested that Kevin help his wife get dressed, and then they were free to go. Rab had been fully compensated for the damages. Kevin pulled together what was left of Mary's clothes and offered to help dress her. She dismissed his offer with a smirk and addressed Rab, "Look, I'm a little tired right now, but with a little rest, I'll be ready to take on as many men as you can find for me." Rab looked at Mary with surprise and then to her husband and said, "Well, all right, baby, you're welcome to stay and rest, and then we can continue the party later on." Mary looked at Kevin with contempt and said, "I won't be needing you anymore. You can go on home. If I feel like it, I'll call you in a few days." With that, Mary lay down on the sofa, curled up, and went to sleep. Her body was covered with sperm, and it leaked from her pussy and ass. That night and morning, Mary had been with twenty-six men. Her body had received over sixty loads of sperm. Mary slept all day Saturday. That evening, Rab and Jim escorted Mary to one of their favorite bars. She was one of only five women in the place, and the only white woman. Needless to say, she received a lot of attention. By the end of the evening, she had added another 35 black men to her tally and numerous loads of sperm. Mary spent a week with Rab. He took her to the bus station where he worked. He set her up in the men's room and sold her body to anyone who wanted to pay $25 for a fuck or suck. She earned over $3000 for Rab during the week. He offered Mary half, and she used some of the money to buy several sexy outfits. During the evenings, she continued to entertain Rab's friends at the bar. On the following Saturday, Rab dropped Mary off at her home. She gave Rab a passionate kiss and thanked him for the great experience. Mary had called Kevin the day before and left him a message on the machine that she would be coming home. As she walked to the door of her modest house, she wondered if Kevin would take her back. She knew that she was a whore and a slut, but it all started with Kevin's betrayal. She also knew that there was no turning back. If Kevin took her back, then he would have to get used to sharing her with many other men. There is one other thing to note. Mary had miscalculated her cycle. She wasn't made pregnant by Jim or anyone else. In the heat of the moment, she had wanted to humiliate Kevin by begging to be knocked up by Jim. In reality, she didn't want to get pregnant and decided that she would never be without her diaphragm again. She wanted to be prepared to take cock at any time. Mary's new slutty style of dressing would ensure that there would be many frequent opportunities.

Slut Housewife Series

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/15914.txt

ck29@anon.nymserver.com

Ask Me Anything

"Ask me anything," I'd say to her when we were both little children. "What's 17583 times 856206?" She'd ask, and I'd make up some large number that neither of us would remember; or sometimes she'd ask what was 17 times 3, and I'd say it was too easy and she should ask me something harder. "Ask me anything," I'd say to her when we were both thirteen and her mother made eyes at me when her breath stank with booze. After her father left, she said little and didn't ask anything for a very long time. Instead, she took my hand as we left school together, ignoring the taunts of the classmates we called friends. We walked a long time in the woods to our houses, and there she took my hand and laid it on her budding white breast as we kissed without words and our legs intertwined under the branches of the trees. "Ask me anything," I'd say to her when she saw my face black and blue. But I knew she wouldn't ask, because the answer was too easy and yet too difficult for us both. Instead, she took my head and cradled it fiercely in her thin white arms. At night in the summer, we sat in an empty playground looking up at the stars. We were seventeen and would leave the Midwest soon. We kept our wishes silent, fearing our wishes and hopes might leave us like the sound of our voices. Instead, she asked me with her fingers curling in my ears, my neck, the buttons on my shirt. She gave one tiny *gasp* of pain as I entered her that first time, and her voice was small as we rocked and breathed and held together in the open space under the stars. She went to the East and I went to the West as we sought our fortunes, gained and finally lost. She married a doctor who was handsome and rich and ultimately faithless. I married an actress whose beauty and charm hid the ice-cold truth of her heart. We met again two decades after we parted. We met in that empty playground we both remembered well, and once again it was summer, and once again it was nighttime. We imagined that playground filled with children and how our kids might look and how happy our kids might be, and our voices were strong this time as we spoke of our wishes. She kissed with experience, her breasts ripe and full now, and her hands were sure and no longer asking as she unbuttoned my shirt. My hands were knowing as I caressed her face, her neck, her thighs, and her loud *gasp* as I entered was one of pleasure, not pain. "Ask me anything," I whispered, my breath ragged in her ear. "Marry me," she whispered as we rocked and shuddered, breathed and held together in that open space under the stars.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/9086.txt

marmot

A New Toy

"X minus three, quantity, squared!" Sixteen-year-old Daisy smiled at her intelligent little cousin. At only 12, he was already mastering algebra. She only half-listened to his excited explanation of his result; Ethan's brown eyes sparkled, and he looked so inviting. But she did catch his last sentence. "...It's just because Daisy Moo Cow is such a good math tutor!" That had been his nickname for her for as long as either could remember. And it had been an irritant for just as long. Daisy thought that, after she spanked him last time he used it, he had learned his lesson. She should spank, but the little male looked so cute! Perhaps a simple reproof would do. Self-conscious about the comment, she felt her considerable bosom. "Thank you, dear," Daisy replied, "but speak more respectfully to me." "Sorry, Daisy...Moo Cow!" Ethan's eyes danced mischievously. Daisy was shocked and irritated. Why did they beg for spankings? Daisy stood her cousin up and yanked down his pants and undies at once. His penis hung between his legs, as small around as Daisy's arms. She didn't pause to admire her cousin's large, delicate privates; she had another part of him in focus. She held him standing still with one hand and spanked his naughty bottom with the other. Just a dozen swats, but she let the irritation she felt be heard as she scolded her charge. He was naughty for his disrespect, and she would not tolerate it ever. When she was done, his cheeks had tear-tracks running down them, and those expressive eyes looked at her so fearfully. "I- (sniff) I'm sorry, Daisy!" her little cousin sobbed. "Please, Daisy, (choke) please forgive me." Daisy wrapped her arms around Ethan, held him close with his face pressed into her huge breasts, like she knew he liked so much. She could feel his thick penis pressing against her, warm on her thigh. She kissed the top of his head, resting her cheek against his curly brown locks. "Silly boy," she said to him. "Of course I forgive you! Daisy loves Ethan, but she never allows disrespect." She reached to pull up his undies. She stopped just under his privates. He had gotten so big over the last couple of years! And now he was 12 and, according to local custom, able to be fucked! She planned to play with his new toy later, but for now, she just pulled his undies up over it and pulled up his britches, fastening them and patting his covered genitals lovingly. Ethan gave her that lost-puppy look that males get when they want a woman (as she thought of herself). He adjusted his pants, that big penis of his growing perceptibly as they stared into each other's eyes. Daisy knew she should guide him back to his studies, lest he forget them in his ardor. Standing, she took his hands and gently helped him back into his chair. Daisy sat on the couch in the living room, her legs folded under her. She read from the _Bear Valley Gazette_, stared out the big front windows at Mirror Lake, and thought about her small cousin sitting at the dining room table with his big erection. "How's it going, little dear?" she finally asked. "Um, ok." His response was distracted. Daisy suspected it was not that he was so engrossed in his math, but was glad that he submitted and obeyed anyway. "I'm going to the bathroom. Think you'll be done by the time I am?" "I think so, Daisy." Ethan almost jumped out of his skin as she walked by. He slammed his algebra book shut as she walked up to him. She kissed the shy little male, and then left him to his work. As she returned from the bathroom, Daisy decided that if Ethan had done well on his math, she would reward him by giving his newly accessible toy a good long fuck. It would feel good to stuff that big penis inside herself. "Are you done, dear heart?" In answer, Ethan jumped up from the table and hurriedly knelt before her. In a shaking hand, he held out a folded bit of paper. Confused, Daisy took the paper and looked at it. It read "I Love You Daisy." It was cunningly folded and written upon repeatedly, so that if she opened it only part way, the paper always had her name, "I Love You," or both. Intertwined with the writing were daisies, their stems drawn so that it always gave the same picture. When she opened the page fully, there was a drawing of a cow, laying down, with a calf nestled against it. The cow was obviously her, and the calf, Ethan. Above them ran the now familiar script: "I Love You Daisy" Daisy was shocked. Over an hour she was waiting to fuck this little male and he was doodling! Yet what a sweet present. She looked at her disobedient young charge. His eyes were brimming with tears, his lower lip trembled. He looked so fragile. Daisy knew that when she opened the paper, she was opening his heart. Whatever her response, he would see it as her judgment of what she found there. She squatted down in front of her foolish, disobedient little charge. "You dear little boy," Daisy looked into those nervous doe-eyes. She felt a mixture of adolescent lust and maternal love. Her sex felt so hot, yet she wanted nothing more than to cuddle this worshipful little boy to her breasts. She grasped his small male hands gently. "I love you too!" She punctuated the joy that brightened his face with a soft kiss. His lips eagerly parted, and she indulgently slipped her tongue into his mouth. He jumped when she brushed her loins against his. She could see his chest rising and falling in gasps, and knew that this could go a lot further real quick. She wanted it to, but she also wanted him to be as obedient as he was romantic. Still holding his hands, she stood. "Oh, I love you, little Ethan!" Daisy exclaimed. "More than anything I want what's best for you." She asked, as gently as she could, "Tell me, did you do your math?" "Um...no, Daisy." The lad replied, worry playing across his features. "Thank you for your precious gift," Daisy slipped the refolded paper into a pocket of her jeans. "I will always treasure it, and the love which prompted it. Now, we will have to address your disobedience and disrespect toward me in ignoring the work I gave you to do." Daisy watched the nice big bulge in Ethan's pants shrink as she began to scold him. It was for the best, she told herself; males, even cute ones like her cousin, needed to obey, and they needed women like herself to ensure they did obey. "You were a very naughty little boy," she scolded, resting her hands on her hips. "In your love for me, you should have given me obedience. Submitting to a female is better than giving her presents, because you're giving her your heart and actions." "I'm sorry, Daisy," the crestfallen boy replied. "I was just--" "Be quiet, Ethan. Instead of trying to excuse your naughtiness, just listen to me. I love you, and I think you are a sweet person. But you need to obey! Boys who won't obey are no good to themselves, nor to me nor to any female. You're a good boy. Disobedience and disrespect have no place being in good little boys." She pulled her cousin up from his knees, her grip firm on his lithe shoulders. He trembled in front of her, sad and afraid. "Ethan, do you love me?" She asked. "Yes, Daisy, a lot!" He hugged her. She gently detached herself. "I love you too, and I want you to be an obedient, respectful boy. Do you want that too?" "Yes I do, Daisy," came the sincere reply. "If I do something to help you obey, will you trust me?" "Um, yes, Daisy." Though his features were so anxious. "I think you know what that something is. Tell me what will make you obey." "A--a sp-spanking." The words spilled out as tears spilled down his cheeks. Daisy turned one of the dining room chairs around and sat down. She pulled Ethan's pants and undies down to his bare feet, and had him step out of them. Then she unbuttoned and removed his shirt. She looked at Ethan standing before her, naked, fearful, defenseless, and felt the hot wetness between her legs. "You're mine!" she thought fiercely, "And I'm going to enjoy you and your thick penis. But first..." She pulled her young charge over her lap, nestling his tender privates safely between her plump thighs. She rested her hand on his behind and began to scold more, punctuating her words with hard spanks.Then she started spanking in earnest, interspersing her spanks with scolding. Ethan pleaded with Daisy to stop, promised to be good, said how much it hurt, and said how sorry he was. But Daisy continued to scold and to rain down blows on his bare fanny, until the room echoed with his cries and her scolding and the sound of the spanks. Daisy felt the boy stop struggling as exhaustion overcame him. She felt her hand stinging as she spanked him. She could feel the heat radiating from his crimson behind. And she also felt the heat in her sex as she punished this helpless little boy. She finally stopped hurting Ethan when she heard him making quavery, high-pitched, absolutely despondent weeping noises. Her Aunt Joan had taught her years ago how to know when her cousin was broken. Anything beyond that would have been cruel and a waste of effort. Daisy talked to him then, soothing maternal encouragements falling on him as lightly as the snow falling outside. She gently stroked his fiery hot backside and felt such motherly sympathy for this broken, hurting little male. She turned Ethan over and held him to her breast, rocking gently and stroking his face, and saw in his eyes love and submission that made her heart pound. She kissed him tenderly on the lips, and they sat together cuddling. When Ethan had recovered his composure, Daisy felt it safe now to move on to other things. She stood the naked little boy on his small feet and smiled cheerfully at him. Shyly, her well-spanked cousin smiled back. "Love you, Ethan." Daisy looked fondly as the little male's eyes once more filled with tears. She stood. "Come on, dear one, I want us to do something together." She led him to the couch, had him kneel in front of it. Daisy enjoyed the awe she saw in Ethan's eyes as she lifted off her heavy sweatshirt. She wore no bra, and her cousin's eyes were riveted to her large breasts. She slid down her jeans and her now wet panties, and stood naked before the adoring little boy. Daisy sat on the couch, leaning back, scooting her crotch forward. Ethan needed no prompting; they had played this game before often enough. Still kneeling, he kissed her thighs. She loved it when he did that. She let him tease her for a few minutes before grasping his hair and leading him to her sex. She kept him there licking and sucking at her clitoris, moving him to her vagina and pulling him back again for more repeatedly until she came powerfully, pressing her little cousin against her sex. As Ethan licked her clean, Daisy marveled at how tractable he was - all males were - after a spanking. His contrition and desire to please were so evident, and this submissiveness, even more than his worshipful licking, made her hot again. She pushed him back. His big prick was now fully erect, and looked so inviting. Gently she pushed the little male onto his back and lay down on him, her large plump hands holding his wrists to the floor. She covered his adorable face with kisses, and finally tongue kissed him deeply, swallowing his penis within her vagina. Her cousin didn't expect this treat. His eyes bulged and she laughed aloud. He was so cute! She rocked above him, moving him in and out of her, and he came almost immediately. She kissed him, and whispered her love to him. He was rapturous, nearly incoherent. Daisy lay on the floor with Ethan for a while, cuddling him, watching him recover. She buried his face in her bosom, squeezed and fondled his penis. She would have to make him do his homework, but first they would play some more with this new toy.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/17572.txt

Sandman

Aces

"Pull up! Pull up!" Piper cried as the heads-up display showed the enemy on Bandit's tail, closing in for a missile lock. Bandit pulled up sharply, executing a flawless roll to the right that momentarily threw the enemy fighter off. But only for the moment. The Chinese Mao was one of the most advanced fighters in the world and could make even a kid fresh out of flight school look like an ace. Piper pursued his own prey to the very fringe of the atmosphere, to the extent that only the solid rocket boosters were providing thrust. A familiar tone sounded - his computer had acquired a lock, finally breaking through his opponent's countermeasures. What followed was completely automatic. The computer launched the weapon; thirty seconds later, a brilliant fireball drifted over the horizon. "I can't shake him!" Bandit screamed. "Damnit, I can't shake him!" "Hold on, buddy, I'm coming down!" Piper said grimly, as the display showed him he might not be in time. Bandit was executing a series of dives and rolls to forestall the inevitable, but the Mao's computers had almost broken through the last of Bandit's jamming signals. When the last signal failed, a missile would launch, traveling and turning at a speed no human could endure. Ten years ago, a Chinese missile would likely fail, but then China had caught the same quality bug that had swept Japan and the Americas. The missile wouldn't fail. "This is it, Piper," Bandit said, his voice eerily calm though the display showed he was engaged in high-stress maneuvers. "I was looking forward to that home-cooked meal you promised you'd have your wife cook for us when we got leave." "It's still a date, asshole," Piper replied, his voice ragged from the adrenaline pouring through his body. He was closing to weapons range fast, and Bandit's computer had already uploaded the enemy's defensive information. He'd have a shot, but the computer predicted he'd arrive ten seconds too late. Switching the flight controls to fully automatic, Piper, already at full thrust, flipped two buttons, igniting the solid rocket motors in an uncontrolled burn. The seat slammed into his back as the contact was made. A second later, accelerating faster than both man and machine were designed for, the world went white, then black. ---- "Whoooohooooo!" Bandit's voice echoed through the cabin. Groggily, Piper checked the system, trying to work through the blurred double image. All clear. Two splashed bogies. "That was un-fucking-believable!" Bandit howled. "You must have been pulling thirteen G's! You came in so fast Charlie never knew what hit him!" "I'd say you owe me a beer," Piper said, suddenly surprised at how weak his voice was. "Piper, I owe you a whole fucking bar! Shhhiiiit! Ol' Bessy here's telling me the bogie on my tail was commanded by none other than Woeful Wu. There's seventy-eight dead red-blooded American pilots waiting to give him a proper welcome on the other side." "Wu, huh?" Piper asked, still trying to clear his head. "The ident codes match. I think you'll have more than a beer waiting for you when we get back." The return trip was uneventful, as was the landing and debrief. The trip from the debrief back to the barracks was not uneventful, however, as word of the dreaded fighter ace's demise had rippled like a spark to deadwood throughout the base. Police action or not, the war ground to a halt as the base took a well-deserved holiday to celebrate and toast their newfound hero well into the night. The beer, boasts, and bragging flowed freely. With a few drinks under his belt, Piper discovered that he recalled many more details of the encounter than maybe he had told to the debriefing officer. "Pipe pulled a fifteen G diving roll to intercept Wu!" Bandit was exclaiming, his words slurring a little. "He never stood a chance. Pipe pulled in with guns blazing and I swear every missile popped all making a straight B-line to Woeful Wu, who probably still doesn't know what hit him!" Bandit laughed uproariously at this, and the crowd around him joined in. "Fifteen G?" A voice from the back asked. "Shit, no one can take a fifteen G roll and live to tell about it." "Hey, Hey!" Bandit cried, throwing an arm around Piper who was trying to chase the sting from the last shot of whiskey with another. "Who's this party for anyway? It's all in the logs, me boyos." Bandit said as he chomped down on a cigar, a broad grin lighting his athletic face. "Piper pulled a fifteen G rolling dive and walked to debrief as steady as me." The voice in the back muttered, "fifteen G," again before drifting off. Someone raised their glass and yelled, "to Piper!" - it was not the first, nor would it be the last toast of the evening. Piper stood shakily and yelled back, "To Bandit!" "Bandit?", the toaster asked incredulously. "To Bandit!" Piper said back firmly. "Who do you think kept Wu occupied while I was busy becoming a hero so we could all get shift-faced?" Captain Jensen, known as "the Cube," (which could mean either ice or square as depending on whether he was flying or on the ground), stood up and said, "Way I heard it, Ol' Bandit was going to be Wu's seventy-ninth flag until you came around." Piper's eyes narrowed dangerously. "We ain't flying HellJets BOY, and Bandit was holding his own. I'll take him as my wingman any day of the week, you got a problem with that?" Sixty pairs of eyes locked on Cube, who suddenly decided he'd had too much to drink and dropped the matter. The mood in the room had turned from festive to awkward silence until Piper raised his glass again and said firmly, "To Bandit!" "TO BANDIT!" the room cheered. And the party went on. "Cube's right." Bandit muttered over a beer later that evening. All but the most dedicated drinkers had left the bar. "My ass was grass. I had a Chinese missile with my name on it ready to go right up where the sun never shines." "So I save your ass, you save mine. You've gotten bogies off my tail before. It's what a good wingman does, and you're the best, Bandit. The only one here who don't know that is Cube, and he's got his head stuck up his bunghole." "Yea, but it's never been this close before." Bandit said quietly. "You and I both know you and your plane shouldn't have survived that burn, man." Piper shrugged. "We both do what we have to do. You'd have done the same for me." Bandit looked at his friend and wondered. Here, now in the bar it would be easy to say 'yes.' In the cockpit at full burn, knowing that engaging the solids could tear the airplane to shreds, that was something you never knew if you could do or not until it was done. The only man on the base Bandit _knew_ would do it was Piper himself. "Yea," Bandit agreed. It was the expected thing to say, but deep down he still wondered. "Ten-hut!" someone shouted from the entrance, and all eyes went immediately to the door. Colonel Briggs stared sternly around the room as men instantly staggered to their feet and stood waveringly at attention. "At ease, men!" The Colonel commanded. "Far be it from me to spoil this festive party you're all having!" It was a sarcastic remark. The festivities had ended an hour ago.The few men remaining decided that now would be a perfect time to call it a night, as the Colonel made his way over to the table where Piper and Bandit sat. "Captain Piper, Captain Gregs," the Colonel greeted them, motioning them to sit. "I guess, given the circumstances, you should be excused for your appearance." Then his usually harsh face broke into a wide smile, and he shoved out his hand to shake Piper's. "Well done! Well done, both of you." The pride on his face was the same as a proud father. "Thank you, Sir," Piper said, genuinely moved by this rare display of humanity. "I understand you have your first furlough in three days." "Yes, sir. Bandit, uh, Captain Gregs and I both. I was going to show him around L.A." "In two weeks, you're to appear at the Pentagon. It will cut four days off your leave." "Sir? I don't understand." "Word of your little sortie has reached Washington, Piper. General Hargrove himself wants to pin a new medal on your uniform. Since he's a General, you'll have to indulge him. It will only take a few days. Is this a problem?" A little unsure of his answer, since it had been over a year since he'd last touched his wife, Piper nonetheless answered, "No, sir!" "Good. You'll still have ten days for yourself. I'd extend your leave if I could, but we're shorthanded enough as it is. Those Mao's are eating our lunch, not to mention our best qualified pilots." The Colonel thought a second before saying, "Good job again, Captain Piper. It's the kind of by-your-seat and damn the consequences flying today that reminds me why we still put men up there. You made me proud to be a soldier again." "Thank you, sir!" Piper said as the Colonel turned sharply and strode to the door. "Well, isn't that just the cat's meow?" Bandit grinned, punching Piper in the arm. "Ol' Pipe sitting up in Washington with the big brass staring at him like some caged animal. Doesn't that just sound fun?" "Yeah." Piper said glumly. "Four less days with Ilene. The army sure knows how to reward its so-called heroes." "Come on, Pipe. Time to call it a night. We've still got two more days of duty before the fun starts, and you've never been a fun drunk." ======================================== Chapter 1 07:50 - 10,000 ft over Los Angeles. ======================================== "L.A.," Piper said as they stared out the window of the descending plane. "The city of angels." "Isn't it also the city of gang wars, drug riots, and corrupt cops?" Bandit snickered. "As long as Ilene lives there, bud, it's the city of angels," Piper said. "Now me, I couldn't disappoint all the beautiful ladies out there by shacking up with just one. I figure I've got a good five, maybe ten years before I need to settle down." Piper laughed. "I was worse than you, bud. Before Ilene, I was bringing a different girl home every night, sometimes two! Then I met Ilene, and she turned my world upside down. Until her, I was just like you - I couldn't see myself with just one girl. Then suddenly I couldn't see myself with anyone but her. Funny how that is." "Yeah, har-har," Bandit joked. "The day I meet a woman like that is the day I run out and bed every woman who'll have me until it passes!" "That's my Bandit, stealing the ladies' affections as easily as he steals his splashes." "Ain't it the truth!" Bandit agreed as he cast a winning smile and a quick wink at the stewardess who was moving through the cockpit to prepare the passengers for landing. She paused a moment and smiled back at him, a slow blush growing on her already rosy cheeks. "One year, five months, and three days," Piper said wistfully. "When is the last time you said something understandable?" Bandit laughed. "That's how long it's been since I've been with Ilene," Piper said. "Oh. Five hours for me, I guess." "Five hours?" Piper asked incredulously. Bandit leaned back in his seat. "While we were waiting at the airport, there was a female reporter, really cute one too. She wanted a few thoughts on how the war was going, so we slipped off and I gave her an exclusive. It would have been an hour, but the lavatory was in use when I caught the stewardess' eye, and the moment passed." "How can you stand it?" Piper asked with a laugh. There was a bump and dull rumble as the plane touched down. "It ain't easy, buddy. Fortunately, we've just landed in a city with a few million women." Bandit's eyes were ripe with anticipation. --- "Ilene!" Piper shouted as they exited the boarding ramp. He jumped over a waist-high rail and pulled a woman into a powerful hug. Bandit smiled as he made his way over to them and stopped a discreet distance away. He had seen Ilene before on the vid-phone, and there was no denying she was a drop-dead gorgeous woman. But here in the flesh, Bandit found the vid-phone didn't do her justice. The phone just couldn't capture her graceful form under the simple short-skirted dress, how creamy her complexion was, how her beautifully formed legs seemed to go on as long as the passionate kiss between her and her husband. Piper had his hands wrapped firmly around her buttocks, holding her up so her legs could wrap around him. The fevered kiss and the way their hips ground into each other told everyone in the terminal that here were two passionate lovers who had not seen each other for a very, very long time. Ilene was panting as Piper lowered her enough for her feet to touch the floor. Her cheeks were flushed, and two very prominent nipples showed through her simple blouse. The dress was simple, but the effect the dress gave to her lithe form was simply devastating. "Bandit!" Ilene squealed with delight as her eyes fell on the voyeur a few steps away. She ran over to him and paused to admire him a moment. "I finally get to meet the man who made sure my husband returned to me in one piece! I can't begin to thank you!" She planted a lush wet kiss on his cheek before drawing him into a strong hug. It was a friendly kiss, a friendly hug, but as the scent of flowers on a warm spring day wafted over him, he felt her nipples push into his chest and felt her waist against his. Bandit's cock sprang to full attention. Ilene couldn't help but feel the effect she was having on her husband's partner, and stepped back, a deep blush appearing on her cheeks. A blush which deepened even further when she lowered her eyes to sneak a glance at the bulge she had evoked. Her blue eyes twinkled with mischievous delight, and an eyebrow raised appraisingly as she said, "Now I know why Jim says you're the ultimate lady's man." Bandit, for the first time in his life, was left completely speechless. He had expected a beautiful woman and was not disappointed. He had not expected to find himself attracted to his best friend's wife. The confusion was not helped when Piper walked over, put an arm around Ilene, and smiled at him like a man who had everything he ever wanted in life standing beside him in this airport terminal. "Well, we can't stay here all day!" Piper declared. "We better get back to the house so Ilene and I can make up for some lost time. And then, and then, you're going to get one helluva home-cooked meal!" "After a year of army rations, I couldn't agree with you more!" Bandit agreed. "So what have you two got planned for your vacation?" Ilene asked as they walked to the car. "Well, I'm just here for a good home-cooked meal," Bandit laughed. "After that, I've got a hotel room reserved and a rental car, and I guess I'm off to see the sights." "Sights as in the women at the clubs, most likely," Ilene laughed, and Piper joined her. "That sounds like a decent vacation to me, Ma'am!" Bandit agreed. "Well, you'll probably still want the car to get around in," Ilene said, "but I insist you stay with us! We've got a spare bedroom, and there's no need for you to spend your hard-earned money on a hotel. And you absolutely positively have to let Jim and I show you around a little!" "Begging your pardon, Ma'am, but I get the impression Piper has his own plans, and they don't include much beyond you and your bedroom," Bandit gave her a sly wink. Ilene smiled broadly and patted Piper on the butt. "I think we can manage to find a little free time outside of the bedroom," she laughed. "If you're sure. I mean, I don't want to impose," Bandit said. "It's all settled!" Ilene assured him. "Isn't it, Jim?" "It's what I suggested from the start," Piper agreed. "But Bandit wouldn't agree until he heard it from you." They stopped in front of an old 1996 white Mustang GT convertible in absolutely mint condition. Piper smiled broadly as Bandit circled the car twice, his mouth resting on his chest. "Awesome! Un-fucking-believably-awesome! V8?" "V8," Piper smiled back. "Where do you get the gas?" "Oh, there's a few collectors around, and you can still get enough gas to keep it running." Piper hopped over the driver's side door and rested in the driver's seat with a self-satisfied grin. Bandit followed, hopping into the back seat and letting his hands caress the cool leather. Ilene, a bit more sensibly, opened the passenger side door and stepped in. The drive back to Piper's house with the cool California wind rushing through their hair was an experience as exhilarating as anything in the cockpit. "You've got to let me drive it!" Bandit cried as he stepped out onto the driveway. Piper laughed and tossed Bandit the keys. "Have fun, buddy! I know I will." Bandit grinned like a kid with a new toy as he settled into the driver's seat. Piper had moved around and scooped Ilene up into his strong arms. For the briefest of seconds, Bandit felt a twang of envy as Piper started carrying the beautiful creature towards the house. But it was only for the briefest of moments before the raw thundering power of a V8 internal combustion engine began to sing its siren's call."God, how I missed this!" Piper murmured as he pushed his face between Ilene's breasts. Ilene moaned softly as Piper pulled back and sucked a wonderfully erect teat between his lips, her hands played through his hair as she pulled him into her, arching her back ever so slightly in anticipation of the moment he would take her. Piper pulled away and moved up beside her, gazing at her angelic face while his hand lightly traced the curves of her body. "You've grown even more beautiful since we parted." "I've been so alone, Jim." Ilene said, her face showing the full extent of her needs and desires. "It's been so hard knowing the man of my dreams was half a world away." Her voice hitched, and she continued, "Knowing he may never come back to me." "I'll always come back to you, Ilene. You're the reason I live," Piper replied solemnly as he moved over her. Ilene reached down and wrapped her hands around her husband's engorged penis, guiding him to her entrance. Piper moved forward slightly and entered her, savoring the way she engulfed him, feeling her contract herself around him, reveling in the hot, moist sensations. With him fully embedded within her, they both paused, existing for a moment as one. Two lovers, parted yet together again. Then Piper began to move, and Ilene moved with him, their moans and screams filling the crisp spring morning air. "You're my main man! My number one man! Love me! Fill me! Do me! Like nobody else can!" Rock and roll thundered even above the roar of the wind as Bandit wove through the traffic. He was doing ninety easy, and the car wasn't even beginning to protest. He took a curve marked for fifty at eighty-five and let out a loud whoop as the tires stayed glued to the road, the G-forces tugging at his body, the wind howling through his hair. "Come on, baby! You're my man! Take me, take me on the desert sands!" Over the wind and music, Bandit heard a shrieking whine, and a quick glance in the rearview mirror showed a motorcycle cop right on his tail, lights flashing. Bandit sighed as the joy ride ended, and he pulled over to the side of the road. It would be worth the ticket -- he hadn't had so much fun since he had taken his first jet out for a spin. His instructor hadn't been able to withstand the G-forces, and Bandit hadn't been able to resist the urge to see what the beauty could do. He had survived his instructor's ranting; no doubt he would survive a traffic ticket. The figure stepping off the motorcycle was definitely feminine, despite the uniform, though Bandit couldn't see a face in the side mirror. When he looked up, he saw the perfect image of authoritative femininity. The officer studied him a moment, noting his uniform before saying, "You're not in a cockpit, flyboy. That was the most reckless piece of driving I've seen since I joined the force." "Shoot, that was nothing," Bandit grinned. "This baby was just starting to get warmed up." "Uh-huh," The officer said dryly. "License and registration." Bandit fished out his military ID and rooted around for the registration. "You stayed hot on my tail. You enjoyed it as much as I did," Bandit said playfully as he handed the paperwork to the officer. She said nothing as she studied the ID. "Look, Officer Bannon. I'm new in town, on furlough, and I don't really know anyone here. After you write the ticket, you wouldn't be interested in maybe showing me around?" The officer looked over at Bandit with a mixture of surprise and incredulity on her face. Bandit exuded a boyish charm and sincerity that had made his exploits legendary among his fellow pilots. "How long are you in town for?" She asked, still trying to decide if he was halfway serious. "Only a few days," Bandit replied. "Then it's back to the war." He rolled his eyes mockingly, "Oh, sorry, police action." "I hear it's really rough over there." "It is," Bandit agreed. "I never really know when I'll take off if I'll be another statistic on the nightly news." Though he said it with a straight face, his tone made a total mockery of the soldiers' often-used pickup line. So much so that the officer had to laugh, and Bandit joined her. "I was heading back to the station. My shift's over. Why don't you follow me?" Bandit grinned broadly as she handed back the paperwork without the expected ticket. "And you can call me Jane." "Nice name," Bandit agreed, then let out a whoosh of excitement as Jane walked back to her cycle and led him back to the station. "So soon?" Ilene asked in surprise as Piper felt her breasts from behind. "Hey! It's been over a year," Piper laughed softly into her ear. "A year without sex, a year thinking and dreaming of you. I'm horny as a teenager." "Rorrrr," Ilene growled agreeably as she twisted around in his arms to face him. Piper parted her robe and let it fall to the floor, then he lifted her up and lowered her onto him. Joined, and laughing with each step, Piper carried her back to the bedroom. "Bandit's been gone a while," Ilene said as Piper lowered her onto the bed. "Good," He replied as he stared at her luscious form stretched out before him. "We shouldn't be worried?" Ilene asked. Piper laughed. "Honey, Bandit can take care of himself. My guess is he's already found a pretty little filly to introduce him to the joys of L.A." "You're kidding!" Ilene protested. "Never about Bandit," Piper said as he slid into her. Suddenly Ilene lost all interest in their missing house-guest. "Oh God!" Jane moaned as Bandit moved inside her. "Yes! Fuck me! Fuck me hard!" Her long fingernails raked Bandit's back, digging into his flesh as her long, shapely legs wrapped around him, the soles of her feet running along Bandit's legs. Bandit smiled knowingly and altered his pace and technique, a little trick he had learned that always drove the women wild, and Jane proved no exception to the rule. Jane threw her head back and let out a long scream of pure pleasure as her orgasm washed over her. Bandit finally yielded his self-control and followed her, as her hot pussy clenched in orgasmic rapture around his engorged cock. "Hey, guys!" Bandit said as he stepped inside. "Hope you didn't miss me too much!" "You were gone?" Piper laughed. "I guess with a woman like Ilene around, you can be excused from missing my normally overwhelming presence," Bandit laughed. "And where were you?" Ilene asked with an arched eyebrow. She had given only passing credence to Piper's theory, despite the numerous tales of Bandit's almost legendary exploits, but seeing his slightly disheveled appearance, she began to wonder. Bandit blushed. "Well, your city seems to have just the nicest cops!" "Cops?" Piper asked. "My car! Nothing happened to the car!" "No! Nothing happened to your car!" Bandit said, rolling his eyes. "It's just that one of L.A.'s finest decided to explain to me why I shouldn't drive it so fast." "Ohhh. And I suppose one of L.A.'s finest would happen to be a woman?" Piper asked with a wink. "Why, now that you mention it, I do believe you're right! I never would have noticed it myself, at least not until she dragged me back to her place," Bandit winked back. "You are incorrigible!" Ilene accused. "I never really believed half of what Piper told me about you, and only hours after I first meet you, you run off and prove it's all true." Bandit grinned broadly as he put a fat cigar in his mouth, giving him the appearance of the cat who had just ate the canary, and made the canary enjoy it to boot. "I bet Piper didn't even tell you half of the stuff you wouldn't believe." "Well, now that you two men have made up for your celibate military lifestyles, I guess I'd better get dinner started," Ilene declared as she strode into the kitchen. "A cop?" Piper asked. "Hey! You're not the only one allowed to have fun on his furlough," Bandit said. "I take it the old fire's still burning?" "At least a three-alarmer," Piper said as he leaned back in the chair. "You know, I can't remember seeing you quite this happy before, buddy," Bandit said as he took a seat. "Maybe there's something to this marriage thing I've been missing out on." "Maybe," Piper said with a wink. Ilene returned, passing out glasses of cold beer and kippers. As they waited for the roast to cook, Ilene settled down into Piper's lap, and listened with bated breath as Bandit told her how Piper had saved his life in their last engagement. "Hey! What's the matter? Pipe's a hero!" Bandit asked, as he finished. Ilene was trembling and biting her lip; the worry and concern on her face was evident to anyone who looked. "I'm sorry, Bandit, but you just don't know how hard it is for me with Jim away like he is. It's wonderful he saved you, it's wonderful he's a hero, but you said yourself he never should have survived. That's the kind of thing that gives me nightmares." With a trembling hand, she wiped a tear away from her eye and stood up. "I'm sorry. I'd better check dinner." Bandit gave Piper a confused look, and Piper just held up a hand to hold off until Ilene left. "Sorry, Bandit, it's a touchy subject around here. We risk our lives every day. Ilene knows that, she just doesn't like to be reminded about it." "Ohhh," Bandit mouthed, and finished off his beer. "It's funny, you know. How telling one woman she might never see you again gets her all hot and horny, and another woman all upset." "The difference is called love, Bandit," Piper said. "You'll discover the difference one day, I imagine." Bandit shrugged.Dinner was an elaborate affair, and was so different from normal military fare that it would have been good even had Ilene not been a world-class cook. "Hmmm," Bandit groaned as he shoveled the food into his mouth. "This is better than sex!" Ilene laughed joyfully, but Piper merely looked at Bandit in open astonishment. "You have a fever or something, buddy? Did you just say something was better than sex?" Bandit paused, looked at the half-eaten plate before him, then back to Piper. "Women are a dime a dozen, but a good meal, now that's a rare thing. My Ma wasn't this good a cook!" Bandit grinned and raised his wine glass. "To the lovely and charming cook!" Then he turned his glass towards Piper and finished, "And to the luckiest man alive!" Piper and Ilene laughed as they raised their glasses to his, completing the toast. They all helped with the dishes afterwards, and then retired to the living room for a pleasant evening of conversation. The talk was light, often humorous, and pointedly avoided mentioning the war. Piper was telling the tale of how he had first become interested in aviation when Bandit found his eyes wandering over to Ilene. She was still the gorgeous image of perfection; a beautiful face, with a beautiful figure, in a simple dress that was strikingly erotic. She was exactly the sort of woman Bandit would pursue relentlessly, have a night's pleasure with, and then move on. Ilene glanced at Bandit, and for a moment their eyes locked, then she blushed slightly and lowered her eyes. It was all perfectly innocent, but for the briefest moment Bandit got the distinct impression that, as Ilene had lowered her eyes, she was sizing him up. He discarded that idea when Ilene returned her attention to Piper, gazing on her husband with adoring eyes. "He's right next door!" Ilene's muffled voice protested. "You know how thin these walls are!" There was a muted chuckle and a muted squeal of delight. "I once drove Bandit from Balikpapan to Samarinda in a hummer. He was in the back with one of the natives, and they were going at it like the world was about to end. If I could do that for him, I think he can put up with a few muffled grunts." "It feels so nasty!" Ilene protested again, but without much force. "We won't be doing anything Bandit hasn't done before. I promise," Piper replied. Conversation lapsed into a long series of moans and groans. Bandit turned in the bed, trying to push out the sounds of their lovemaking, but if anything the new position only emphasized each movement made in the other room. Bandit tried in vain to push out the unbidden images of Ilene. If the sounds and movements from the next room had to bring up images, Bandit tried to let them be of him and Jane just a few hours earlier. But Jane's presence had already faded to insignificance. Yet another conquest he had seen, fucked, and moved beyond. She had already joined the mental scrapbook of countless women who had shared his bed. As the sounds next door became more fevered, more passionate, Bandit drifted off to sleep with an erection; Ilene's form moving over his in his mind's eye, and her soft muffled moans in his ears.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/10930.txt

Deidre Ng

Hands On

"You know, you've never made me come in your hand." "I can fix that." I sat on our bed, and he stood in front of me, between my legs. I could smell myself, the smell of excitement rising from my pussy. His cock bobbed in front of me, stiff and eager. I fought the urge to kneel, to slip off the bed onto the floor and take him in my mouth. The urge to run my hands up the back of his thighs, over his buttocks, while I kissed around his groin. The urge to plant kisses along his shaft from base to head, to play with him, wetting him, before taking him, swallowing him whole. How long had it been since I gave a guy a hand job? I did it so often in high school. I remember the first time my boyfriend (of the time) opened his pants. We had been kissing, deep passionate sloppy kissing. He had reached into my shirt to squeeze my breasts through the padding of my bra. That night, I took the step of unhooking the clasp and letting his hand slip the sweaty cup off my breast and feel me directly. As his hand found the hard, tingling mountain of my nipple, I gasped. Suddenly, I had to have my hand similarly occupied with his flesh. I wanted to explore by feel the contours of his erection, just as he was exploring the surface of my breast, tracing the transition from smooth taut skin to rougher aureole, from rough aureole to stiff nipple. I wanted what I knew was straining for release behind his zipper. I wanted my hand to experience what I had only seen in pictures, the veined shaft, the smooth space below the head, the bulge of the head itself. I wanted to cradle his cock head and feel its blood warmth. He gave my nipple a tentative pinch between his thumb and forefinger. I slipped one arm from around his neck and let my hand fall against his pants. I ran the back of my fingers along the bulge that his erection made in his jeans, and that was all the prodding he needed. We broke our embrace as he unbuckled and unzipped himself. I pulled off my shirt and bra. He stopped to admire my breasts for the first time before pulling his underwear down and freeing his cock. I shivered from the sudden coolth on my skin mixing with the warmth and ache in my pussy. He responded by gathering me into his arms again. I resisted. I wanted to look at him. I reached down and pulled at the elastic band of his underwear. His cock swung completely free. Starting in about the fourth grade, the girls in my school began sharing rumors about boys, and what they had in their pants, and what they wanted to do with it, to you. "Don't you know, it's huge! And they want to put it into that little hole that's behind where your pee comes out, there's no way it fits. And after they push it all the way in and you feel like you're gonna break in two 'cause it's all the way inside you, then it shoots all this milky stuff inside you. And that's what babies come from." This nugget of information was passed around the schoolyard, causing squeals of terror and revulsion by myself and my classmates. But whenever we told it over to each other, there was always a certain breathless excitement to the teller's delivery that belied the shared reaction. These tales always made us blush, but not the blush of embarrassment. I would lay awake at night and think about what "all the way inside you" meant. Meditating on this mantra, I would pull up my nightshirt and trace the naked lips of my pussy under my covers. Into this hole, where my finger barely fit? I probed there. It was damp inside there, and tight around the tip of my finger. If I held the tip of my finger inside and thought about "all the way inside you," it got tighter all of a sudden, and a little shiver went up my spine. There was this other place inside my pussy that I found then, because it tingled when I did these things. It was a kind of buried itch. I used to rub myself outside my pussy to calm that itch, but when I started to explore that damp hole, I discovered that my dampened finger, rubbed between my lips, made the itchy place feel so much better. It made my whole pelvic area feel warm. It all came back to me when I saw his cock swing free. I wrapped my hand around the base of it. He reached for my breasts again, and we resumed kissing. He fondled me as we kissed, and my hand crept slowly up the length of his cock. Finally, I had his cock head cradled lightly in my hand. I could feel the sweat on my hand. He squeezed my breast, and I responded by squeezing his cock. We began trading squeezes. His fingers found my nipple and stroked it. My hand curled around his cock till my thumb lay in the cleft of his cock head. I found a dot of fluid there. I wiped it onto my thumb. He pulled at my nipple and nibbled my lip. I wiped the wet streak of skin. He was breathing heavily into my mouth. He pulled, I rubbed. He pulled, I rubbed. Suddenly, he grunted, and I felt his come spilling onto my hand. I was afraid I had hurt him somehow. I looked down, my hand frozen, watching the white come ooze out of him. We both said, "I'm sorry" at once, and then giggled at our shared unease. His come was sliding off my wrist into the hair of his balls. With my other hand, I unclasped my pocketbook and reached for the tissues my mother insisted I always carry. Together we cleaned up his come. That night I lay in bed after I was dropped off. I kept smelling the back of my hand as it traveled between my pussy and my mouth. Finally, I switched hands and put the one that was marked with the smell of his come over my nose while I stroked my clit with the other, till the thought of him all the way inside, spilling that odd-smelling stuff into me, made me convulse. Over the course of several boyfriends, I learned how to lubricate my hand, and when to make a ring of my thumb and forefinger to slip the head through. How to catch the come as it spurted out and use it as a lubricant itself. How to finger myself to sleep with one hand cupped over my nose to recall the smell of their come. When I was very familiar with how it smelled and what it felt like in my hand, I began to take the first steps beyond hand sex. One night I jerked off my boyfriend. It had become routine for me. I always followed my mother's rule about tissues. I gave some to my boyfriend, who dabbed away at the base of his cock. I had a glob of his come caught in the depression that can form between thumb and forefinger. I turned away from him, holding my hand so as to not let the come spill. I pretended to reach for a tissue, because I didn't want him to suspect the truth of what I had screwed up the courage to do. First, I brought the come under my nose and sniffed. It was the smell I learned to expect, but stronger, fresher. Before my resolve could dissipate, I raised my hand to my lips and wiped the come across them. I could still turn back, wipe my lips with a tissue and retreat into girlhood for a little while longer. My lips parted, and I inhaled. The smell again, and with it, courage. My tongue flicked out, circling, tasting, collecting to be savored and, yes, swallowed, the come I had wiped there. I tasted more and more come in that surreptitious way. One night there weren't enough tissues, and I made a big impression on my new boyfriend by calmly licking his come off my hand.After that, my mouth was always closer and closer at hand when he came, until the night I short-circuited the transfer of my saliva from my mouth to my hand to his cock by applying it directly with my tongue. I brought him off with my hand and licked his come off my lips. Shortly thereafter, I was taking his cock in my mouth from exhilarating start to intoxicating finish. Crossing that threshold seemed to close the door on the era of the hand job, as much as open the era of the blow job. Once I was comfortable with cocksucking, neither I nor my boyfriends were satisfied with a mere hand job. I can only remember once in college, sitting in Lover's Lane, the last row of seats in a cavernous lecture hall, so high up you needed lift tickets to sit there. The hall dimmed for the presentation of slides, and there was no room to kneel, so I pulled slowly on his cock as the art of the Hudson River School flashed past on the screen. Back in the present, I wet his cock with saliva pooled in my palm. I thought about how easily it would slide into me, slick like that. I often got him slick with my spit applied by hand, before he entered me. Now I just had to remember all the old lessons that I used only occasionally now, like when I needed a breather during a blow job. I looked up at his face. He was smiling dreamily, enjoying my warm liquid massage of his cock flesh. I looked down at his cock, sliding in and out of view, splendidly hot and stiff. "I know you love me. I love you. I love to make you come. I love your come inside me, when I'm tight and slippery. I can feel your cock getting bigger, the head getting bigger and hotter right before you come. I love that feeling. I love feeling you come in my mouth. I love feeling your come splash against my lips and then I open them and lick it off and take you in my mouth again and suck the last of it out of you. I love it when you come really messy-like, and it goes all over my cheeks, and I feel little hot drips running down my neck and between my breasts while I suck you till you're soft in my mouth. I love it when a big glob of come lands on my chest and I wipe it up with my finger and lick it clean. I love wetting my nipple with it and making myself excited, smearing it around on my nipple, knowing you're watching me, feeling you get hard again in my mouth from watching me." Talking so much about his come was getting us both very excited. He shifted his stance, spreading his legs and pushing his hips forward. His cock was just outside my pussy. He had fucked me many times in a position like this, standing at the bedside while I lay with my pussy just at the edge of the bed. I leaned back, propped up on one arm. Through my own spread legs, I held him so that the head of his cock just grazed my pussy lips. "You're gonna come all over my pussy. That hot white come is gonna splash onto me, between my lips. Right on my clit. You're gonna make me come, just by coming on me." I lay down completely. With the hand that wasn't wrapped around his cock, I spread my pussy lips. I held him so that the cleft in his cock head formed wet, slick walls for my clit to rub against. Like intercourse in miniature, with the roles reversed. Pulling on his shaft, his head rubbed back and forth over my clit. With a bit of self-control and a lot of experience of each other's bodies and rhythms, we teetered on the edge of coming together. With one last bath of saliva covering him, I looked down at his cock head sliding puffy red and purple against my pussy lips, butting against my clit. "Come on me, please, spill it on to me. I can feel it in your cock. I..." He was coming on me, and the white wave of come filled the narrow end of my pussy and spilled out over my lips. His cock shuddered against me as I pulled on him. A shot of his come engulfed my clit, and I was over the edge myself, coming as my clit throbbed against his cock in a bath of his come. I lay back, happy. He was wiping his cock against the walls of my pussy, not really penetrating me, but not wanting to pull away. His come got all runny and crept down the sides of my pussy. Just like that old boyfriend, he started to get hard again when I started licking up the come he had spilled on me. I looked at him between licks. "Happy?" "I knew you had it in you." "Now I have it on me." "Touché." "That, too. Are you planning on fucking me with that?" His semi-hard cock slipped into me. I sighed. "Yes." One last lick to spread my lips so that he could really get inside me, then I put my arms over my head and let him take me. The phrase "all the way inside me" bounced around inside my head. I held my fingers under my nose, inhaled his smell, and let the memories take me, too.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/13569.txt

Jan Williams

The Tenant

"Rick, are you asleep?" "Huh, no. I guess I was daydreaming. I was thinking about all we've been through in the past few months. Our marriage has been the only bright spot. It would have been difficult without you, very difficult." "You're sweet, Rick. Let's take a shower and see if we can forget about those things, at least for the night." "You can make me forget them in a minute," smiled Rick. "Then we can get a new start tomorrow." "I want to suck your cock some more. I think I can almost get it in my throat without gagging now, I've been practicing." "Practicing?" "Yeah. I got a dildo and I've been practicing pushing it to the back of my throat. It's pretty stiff, but I finally got it started into my throat. It took me a week before I didn't gag on it." "You must really like doing it," smiled Rick. "I'm glad you do because I like for you to do it." "According to our book, all it takes is practice. I just have to get used to it being in me. Aggh. Almost. I went too fast." "Try swallowing when you feel a gag coming on." "Okay... yeah, that helps. This time should do it. Don't move, I want to just hold it there for a while... I did it, it went in my throat some... I did it again. Once it starts in, it goes easy, one more time... I can do it. I took it all in. I need to finish you, don't I." "...I'm cumming... ahhh, thank you. That was great. Did you like that, taking it in your throat?" "Yes, it felt sort of sexy. I guess it felt good once I got it in there. I want to do it again tomorrow." They got up the next morning, had breakfast, and took a cab to 2316, Pine Ridge Drive to see what they had bought. The house would have been considered somewhat unusual anywhere but San Francisco with its steep hills. It was basically a surprisingly large one-floor plan with the typical garage underneath, no yard to speak of, and a small second-floor apartment. The apartment was partly over the main house and partly on the ground where the hill rose steeply beside the main house. The part of the main house that was under the apartment had been dug into the hill and contained a small study and a recreation room with no windows on the side. There had been a stairwell up to the apartment, but it had been walled off at the top and bottom when the apartment had been created from the original servant quarters. They had one complication associated with the sale. The apartment was occupied by an elderly gentleman who had a lease that was good for another six months, and they had agreed to let him stay. This had not seemed to be a problem since he had his own entrance. They felt they would probably not even notice him and could open up the stairwell after he had moved. Rick paid the cab driver and unlocked the front door with the key the realtor had sent him. Rick opened the door and turned to Cindy, smiling as he picked her up and carried her into their new home. They inspected all the rooms and decided the house was as nice as they had been told. There was even a pool with a privacy fence; they would be comfortable here. The moving van arrived a few minutes later, and the men started to unload their furniture. Rick and Cindy scurried around to direct where the various things were to go. It took most of the day to unload everything; a four-bedroom house contains a lot of furniture. They finally sat in the family room after the movers had gone and thought about all of the unpacked boxes. There was going to be more than they could possibly do the following day. The driver had given Rick the phone number of the local company representative and told him that someone could be provided to help them unpack, even the beds had to be set up. One more night in the motel, and they checked out, determined to spend the next night in their home even if they had to sleep on the floor. The unpacking went smoothly, with professionals who almost knew which drawers things went in. By mid-afternoon, the house was livable. Their tenant came down after the moving company people had left and introduced himself, a Mr. Daniel Johnson. He was a pleasant man, in his late sixties, retired from an antique importation company. He brought them a present, a "housewarming gift" he called it. He said it would be nice for the bedroom. Rick had gotten the first essential item working in the kitchen, the coffee pot, and poured three cups. They exchanged pleasantries for a while until 'Dan,' as he said, had to leave. It was supper time before they finally felt they could live with the rest of the mess and called a cab to take them to a restaurant, the driver's choice they told him. His choice was good, and they enjoyed the meal, taking another cab home. Several days passed before they unwrapped Dan's gift. It was a wind-up clock of some sort with two separate clocks in a twin case. There were no instructions with it, but the wind-up key was obvious, and the clocks were set by moving the hands. They figured it was an alarm clock because there were two sets of hands. It turned out to be good for eight days and seemed to keep good time. It was a pretty clock with ceramic faces and a small figure at the base of each face, a man and a woman. It was mounted in an antique brass case with a glass door for each clock. Cindy set it on the dresser and then forgot about it. The next two weeks were spent fixing up the house and getting the utilities assigned to the trust. The water, electric, and gas meters were outside the house where they could be read. It would be interesting to try and pay cash for everything, but Rick wanted to try it. The DEA could be a problem with their insistence on butting into people's cash transactions, but Rick felt their few large purchases would not attract attention. The ATM in the local grocery store was a handy source of cash and worked well. There was simply no reason for anyone to come looking for them, not even the IRS. They simply didn't exist, even the mighty phone company had no record of them. Drivers' licenses would have presented a problem, however, taxi service was cheaper than car ownership in San Francisco, so they didn't buy a car to replace the ones they had sold in Connecticut. "Well, Cindy, does it seem like home now?" asked Rick after supper. "Yes," smiled Cindy as she came over and sat beside Rick on the sofa. "Are you happy with it?" "Anywhere with you is fine with me, and this is certainly a pleasant enough place to be together." "Let's go to bed early tonight," purred Cindy. "Love to, you go ahead and get ready, I'll lock up." "Rick, I wound the clocks again and set them, I had forgotten about it," said Cindy. "Look, these two little figures are loose, they just fit down in these holes." "Yeah, wonder why there are so many holes? Eight, one in the middle of seven others. It's a snug fit," said Rick, picking up the man and trying it in the different holes. "You smell sweet, I'll be with you as soon as I finish my shower." "I wonder how you set the alarm?" puzzled Rick as he came out of the bathroom. "Only one of these other hands moves at a time." "Never mind playing with the clock, come over here and play with me." "Thought you'd never ask," said Rick as he shut the clock door and went to the bed. "You are ready, aren't you," said Cindy."Yeah, I guess it is ready, isn't it? What should I do with it?" "Make love to me with it," smiled Cindy, pulling Rick down between her legs. "I'm ready for you now." "That was good," said Rick as the contractions of Cindy's cunt drew the last of his cum into her trembling body. "It was ever. Keep fucking me, that's it, rub it against my clit; it feels so hard, so big. Don't use your mouth, make me cum with your cock." Rick felt like he could just keep on and on as his strokes became faster and harder, driving full length to meet each thrust of Cindy's pelvis until they both came again. "I've never been this hot before, your cunt feels so good, I can't get enough of it; keep me in you and roll over on top of me, that's it, sit up, fuck me like you did before." Cindy slowly raised her hips, nibbling at his cock-head with the lips of her cunt, moving slowly up and down, taking in bigger bites with each nibble until her cunt rested full on him; the tenderness of her clit faded as his cock filled her, leaving only pleasure as she slid her clit back and forth over his pubis; the sliding drawing his cock in and out of the warmth of her body as she brought their orgasms to their climax. Cindy stayed there, impaled on his cock, savoring the pleasurable tenderness of her clit as she held it tight against him, rocking gently back and forth like she had learned to do until only the pleasure remained; leaning forward to lay her breasts in his hands, feeling the excitement of her sex in her breasts as he caressed and massaged them, sliding herself slowly back and forth against the hardness of his cock. Her head was thrown back now, eyes closed as she toyed with the hairs on his chest, hardening his nipples with her fingers as she reached for the climax of her orgasm, many wonderful minutes away. The sound of a tinkling bell jarred her from her peaceful rest on his chest. "What was that? Did you set the clock's alarm?" she asked as she lifted her breasts off his chest to rub them and then lay back again. "I don't think so, I just moved one of the hands but I didn't turn anything on." "Your cock's gone, it slipped out of me," sighed Cindy as she kissed him and rolled off onto her side. "How did you keep it up like that?" "I don't know, I've never had one last that long before. It just didn't seem to want to go down, and my orgasm was just as strong each time." "Think I can get it hard again?" "You can try." "Maybe this will do it," she said as she slipped between his legs and took his flaccid cock in her mouth. "This will help, the taste of your pussy always turns me on. Let's do it side by side." "Cindy can almost talk with a mouth full of cock," thought Rick as he listened to her gentle sighs and cries of delight when those certain places were caressed by his tongue and lips. He felt his cock slip past the bend at the back of her mouth and start down into her throat, her lips and teeth nibbling at the base of his cock while his tongue thrust up into her body; their hands on each other's head, pressing his cock and tongue toward a dreamed of rendezvous somewhere in the middle of her body, not met as she withdrew to breathe and try again. Her hands moved his lips to her clit as she sensed the rise of his orgasm, urging him on to make her body shudder in time with his; taking his cum into her mouth to taste of his climax as it flowed over her tongue to be savored and swallowed. Resting now, her head on his thigh as his cock grew limp and slipped from her mouth. "That was nice," she said as she crawled up to lie against his chest and kiss his open mouth, "but it went right down." "That's what it's supposed to do." "Well, why didn't it do it before?" "Maybe the timer on the clock kept it up until the bell rang," laughed Rick, "you know, like your kitchen timer." "Don't be silly." "Well, it went down when the bell rang, didn't it? Sex is mostly in your mind, if my mind said stay up until the bell rings, it'll stay up until the bell rings." "All right, do it again." "If I can do it again, can you take it?" "Try me, what did you do to the clock?" "I just moved one of the hands, I'll show you... see, I moved this hand to one o'clock and shut the door like this." "Yeah, and your cock did just like that," said Cindy, pointing to Rick's rising cock. Rick wanted to open the clock door but he couldn't move toward it, all he could do was go back to the bed and sit on the edge. Cindy opened the door and moved the hand back until the little bell rang. She looked at Rick and they both watched his cock slowly go down. "All in your mind, huh." "Well, that clock sure didn't do it." "Why didn't you move the hand back?" "I wanted to, but I couldn't do it." "What do you mean you couldn't do it?" "Just that, I could not move toward it, I wanted to but I couldn't do it." "Just sit there, I'm going to move the hand... nothing's happening." "Shut the door... that did it, it's getting hard again, turn it off!" Cindy opened the door and moved the hand back, his cock started back down. "Bring me that strong magnifying glass of yours, will you," asked Cindy as she turned on the table lamp and opened the clock door. "Here, what are you looking for?" "Anything I can find, I guess. You moved the little man... see, it was in the middle like this, look at this! Around the edge of the hole you put the man in... it says 'Mann Ertragen.' The other holes on that side say 'Mann Verlangen' and 'Mann E + V.' The other side says 'Fraulein,' 'Fraulein Ertragen,' 'Fraulein Verlangen' and 'Fraulein E + V.' That's German, male endurance, male desire and male E + V; female, female endurance, female desire and female E + V," said Cindy, "The E + V must be endurance plus desire." "Let me see the other side where the woman is... it says the same thing except it's a mirror image. The holes aren't the same size either, the woman won't go in the holes on the man's side." "Rick, what do you know about Dan?" "Nothing except he's lived upstairs for years... he did say this gift would be nice for the bedroom, didn't he?" "Yes, I think so. Do you think he knows about this?" "I bet he does, why else would he say it would be nice for the bedroom?" "Why would he give such a gift to us? I'm scared to see what it would do to me." "You don't need any additional endurance," laughed Rick, "I can't keep up with you on my best day." "I can fix that now," said Cindy as she put the man in its male endurance hole, moved the clock hand and shut the door. "Nothing's happening, it's not getting hard." "Let me try it... there." "Oh no, look at that," cried Cindy as she stared at Rick's cock. "It's getting bigger, I can't get that thing in me. Now it's getting smaller. Quick, look in the mirror, you're getting different all over. You put it in the 'male desire' hole, I'm going to turn it off... there." "I know why it did that," blushed Cindy, "sometimes I fantasize about you, I dream about you being a big handsome hunk with big muscles and a big cock. That thing was responding to my 'desire.' It won't do anything to you if you don't set it yourself, that's why you had to turn it on." "Cindy, remember my question about who gets the most out of fucking?" "Yeah, we talked about it a lot. I remember our experiment where I wore you out. I guess I wondered how you felt when you fucked me, you seemed to enjoy it so much." "I enjoyed it so much! Did you ever listen to yourself when you cum?" "I guess I do, don't I," laughed Cindy, "Why?" "I know I asked who feels best, but there's more to my question. I always wondered how it felt to you when my cock slid in you and how you felt when you reached your climax, how it felt when I sucked your breasts." "It feels good," smiled Cindy. "We decided we'd never be able to answer the question." "Well, watch this thing and turn it off if it gets out of hand; I may get to find out," said Rick as he moved the man to 'female,' moved the hand a little and shut the door. Rick turned and looked in the mirror. His image flickered like a reflection in the ripples of a pool of water and he saw a young woman staring at him. She looked like she could have been his twin sister. Rick turned and faced Cindy, she was frozen in place, eyes and mouth open wide. "Touch me," said Rick, reaching out his hand to her. "Feel me all over. Is this real?" Cindy touched his hand, then gently ran her fingers up his arm to his face and long hair, down to his breasts and then between his legs. "What do you feel there? Rub my clit, stick your finger in my cunt. Is it real?" "I don't know what to say, you're a woman. Can you feel me touch you?" "So that's what it feels like to have something stuck in your cunt!" exclaimed Rick just as the bell tinkled. He turned quickly and saw himself in the mirror, smiling as he realized what they had sitting on the dresser. "Rick, what are we going to do with this thing?" "How about using it." "Why do we need it?" "Do you like to fuck?" "You know I do, silly, we do it all the time." "Have I ever been able to satisfy you, I mean fuck you until you didn't want any more? We tried it once and I gave out on you." "Well, I guess we always fuck enough so that I feel good about it." "Suppose I could fuck you every night until you didn't want to do it again and then let you suck my cock until you had enough of that, every night." "What a way to go," smiled Cindy. "We could change genders and find out who got the most out of it.We could take turns fucking each other until we had enough on both sides. "Yeah." "I could make your cock as big as I wanted it to be, couldn't I." "I'd just put it in you and you could make it fit your cunt... any way you wanted it to." "Yeah, let's try it, easy at first," said Cindy. "I want to find out how it feels to be fucked first, I want to change into my twin sister and I want you to change and fuck me." "You're serious, aren't you!" exclaimed Cindy. "Just watch me...'female'...one hour, on." "Now, you set your clock for 'male endurance,' one hour, and shut your door," said the tall brunette in her sultry voice. "What do you think I'll look like?" "Like your twin brother, I guess." Rick watched Cindy set her clock and then shut the door. Her body sort of rippled outward from her navel, turning into a handsome male with a hard-on. They looked at themselves in the mirror, still thinking this whole thing was a dream. "How do you feel, Cindy?" "I don't know, okay I guess, sort of 'unfamiliar.'" "Do you feel like a man or a woman?" "I don't know, like a man? How does a man feel?" "Does it feel strange to have a cock and no breasts?" "Not really. But there are two parts to my mind now. There's one part that thinks everything is just fine, and another, way off in the distance somewhere, that sort of remembers the feeling of having a cunt and breasts. How about you?" "Not the same, I feel like a guy with tits and a pussy. Look at the clocks, are they set the same?" "Yes...no, my figure is turned toward yours and yours is looking the same way, away from mine." "Well, I asked for this, have your way with me, sir," said Rick demurely. Cindy smiled at Rick's comment as she lowered her male body over Rick's female body. Rick held Cindy's cock and tried to guide it into her. This was not going the way he had hoped it would. The thought of a cock being shoved in him was not all that appealing at the moment. "Play with me some first, like I do with you." "Close your eyes and squeeze your breasts," said Cindy, "try to imagine you're a woman." Cindy ran his hand through Rick's long hair and closed his mouth over Rick's lips, probing with his tongue while he reached for her breast to massage its nipple to hardness. The kiss was becoming pleasant to her as Rick let the feelings of her body overcome the reservations of her mind. The hot lips and tongue slithered down past the hollow of her throat to suck in her nipple and nurse it, one, then the other before continuing on to her belly and thigh; lingering there in that tender crease beside her vulva. Rick felt the wetness of a woman's passion between her legs, strange new feelings deep within her as that hot tongue seared deep into her cunt; then up her vestibule to strike a fire in her clit, soothing it as his lips closed around it to take it into his mouth for a moment. Cindy's face and body slid slowly across Rick's clit as Cindy returned to flick his tongue into Rick's open mouth, his cock probing the entrance to the slick warmth of her cunt; entering easily now, exciting those dreamed of nerves deep within her to give pleasure she never dreamed could exist, her legs wrapped around Cindy's thighs to press that cock full in until their bodies came together. Cindy rubbed his pubis slowly over Rick's clit, movements felt deep in her cunt as his cock circled around within her; back out to tease and probe her cunt lips before thrusting in to excite her clit again with his pubis, again and again. Two strangers to love, finding their way carefully until the thrusts were sudden and full, Rick's hips lifting her tilted vulva to accept the full length of Cindy's thrust as his cock rippled through the inner folds of Rick's cunt; pubis and clit rubbed together again until the folds of her cunt closed behind the slowly withdrawn cock, emptiness for a moment until she was filled again, in - rub - out, in - rub - out, in - rub - out, again and again. Each thrust fueling the fire of her orgasm until it erupted deep within her, waves of euphoric ecstasy radiating throughout her trembling body with each contraction of her cunt; no sudden fall from this Plateau, a need to be held tightly, kissed and caressed until her mind cleared and the thrusts could begin again; begin before her passions ebbed. Rick heard the tinkling bell and felt Cindy's breasts nestle between hers as her cunt suddenly emptied. "How was it? Do you think you'd like to have a cunt permanently?" "If yours is like this one, I don't see how you kept from fucking me all night," smiled Rick. "I didn't realize your whole body felt your orgasms, I even felt it a lot in my breasts, and it lasts so long. How did it feel to you?" "Completely different. I shook all over but the sensations of the orgasm seemed to be concentrated in my pelvic area. It felt great and I felt completely satisfied afterwards. It was over so quick, after I came it was like a switch was turned off. No wonder you can fuck me and then roll over and go to sleep. My cock felt a lot like my clit but not as intense. It really felt great as the whole thing slid up inside you, the deeper I got the better it felt," replied Cindy. "I think I know how you felt. I sort of grew into mine as I got older. I masturbated myself to get my first one. It was good but they soon got a lot better. Some women's are so intense they pass out for a few moments." "I guess my clit did feel a lot like my old cock but I'd rather have you suck on my new clit than my old cock. Did you have any problem making love to a woman?" "No, not at all. I didn't even think about it. Did it bother you, having a man make love to you?" "Yeah, a lot until you got me hot. It never went completely away. I want to turn my figure and try it again. My bell hasn't rung yet, what's the clock read?" "My guess is you've got until tomorrow noon. You moved the shorter hand and I think that's for days, the longer one's for hours." "I should be able to turn it off, it's not set for 'desire'...yeah, I can move it...wow, just like that and I've got my cock back. How about a little snack and then you fuck me for another hour?" "Glad to oblige, I think I'll turn my figure and see if it makes me feel like you did." "Aren't you going to put something on?" asked Rick as Cindy walked toward the kitchen. "Why, I'll just have to take it back off; I pulled the blinds." "Women don't have any problems walking around naked like men do." "Why do men have a problem?" "When I see a pretty woman, I think about sex and when I think about sex, this flag pole rises to let everyone know what I'm thinking about. See, you've got it up now." "Come on, finish your drink and I'll see what I can do about your flag pole." "Got yours set, Cindy? Look in the mirror while you shut the door and watch the change...see, your image sort of shimmers, just a flicker and you've got a new body. Everything changes, shoulders, hips, butt. See your flag pole?" "Yeah, cute isn't it. I think I feel like you did now, I wouldn't have said 'cute' before and I'm not attracted to you sexually nearly as much as I was before." "I'm okay this time," said Rick as he reset his clock using desire this time. "It's like you described. The feeling of being a man is like a distant memory. It's strange though, it's sort of like part of my mind is way off in the distance watching me. I really want that cock in me this time, my pussy's getting wet." "You're a woman all right, that's a female 'hard-on,'" laughed Cindy. "You always liked to suck my cock, didn't you?" "Yeah, I think I always liked it. The thought of taking your cock into my body was always pleasant. Taking it in my mouth felt really intimate the first time I did it, it feels good to just hold it there and in my throat too now that I can do that. It really turns me on when I feel it starting to pulse and your cum shoots into my mouth." "I want to suck yours. Could you eat me again? We could do 69." "I don't think it will bother me, I liked it when I did it just now, women don't have as much of a problem with that as men do. Side by side?" "Yeah. See if you can keep me from gagging so I can take it into my throat." Rick thought about how Cindy sucked his cock, remembering the things she did. It felt soft and warm as her lips closed over its head, that pleasant wetness building in her vulva as she slowly drew it in, filling her mouth, how far could she take it? Slowly probing, deeper and deeper, almost to the back of her throat now. "Swallow, try to swallow," said Cindy, "let it rest there for a while and then keep going, you can do it. Your pussy tastes good, I'm okay." Rick tensed as she felt Cindy's lips close over her clit and draw it into his mouth for his tongue to flutter over its little head, better this time as her woman's mind responded to the touch of a man. Cindy's cock reached the back of her throat, hard to breathe now but the feeling of a cock filling her mouth for the first time was good; slowly back to its head to suck and caress it before probing the limits of her throat again, deep into it this time as Cindy's tongue entered her cunt, playing with each other to suck and probe. Sucking hard on his cock, slipping it in and out of her mouth and throat as she followed the movements of her clit in and out of Cindy's mouth, sensing the tenseness building in Cindy's body as her own orgasm rose to its climax; sucking harder now, keeping it in her mouth as the faint taste of cum suddenly became a flood from his pulsing cock and flowed over her tongue, swallowing it down into her shuddering body.Rick licked the cum from Cindy's cock, sucking it clean like she was sucking the juice off a popsicle, holding it in her mouth, savoring its taste and texture as she sucked the last dribbles of cum from his cock. "Did you like it, Rick?" "Yeah, it's sexy as hell, isn't it?" "I always thought so. Ready for a good fuck?" "Always," purred Rick as she spread her legs. "Just once though, then I want to change the clock settings." No hesitation this time, only desire as she took his cock in her hand and guided it to the lips of her cunt. "Fuck me," she whispered, pressing against his cock, feeling his cock-head enter her, its length gliding into her body as he thrust it deep within her and held it there. It felt so right, wonderfully right as she lay there with his cock full in her, not moving for a while; no excitement, just a wonderful fullness as they held each other. Long slow strokes now, massaging her clit with his pubis; his strokes becoming sudden thrusts as he felt his orgasm building, the exotic movements of the lothario not learned yet as he thrust deep into her, again and again until their shared climax erupted once more. "How do you want it set?" "I want to go back to male, set it for endurance plus desire and let you change me to the way you fantasized about. I want you to do the same for your settings." "I can't wait to see how you want me to be. Will I have big breasts?" "You'll see... Okay, shut your door and watch in the mirror." "You didn't change me all that much. I knew it, my breasts are bigger, firmer and higher up. They don't sag anymore either, they're okay though, they look nice. You made my hips wider!" "Yeah, just a little to make you look sexier, I opened up your birth canal. Look at your profile. See, your breasts are fuller where they blend into the upper part of your chest, it really gives you cleavage with an open neck dress or blouse." "You tilted my pelvis forward and up a little. It feels a little strange but it looks okay, sort of sexy in a way. I like the way you did my calves, I always thought they were too thin." "You didn't change me much. I thought my cock would be enormous." "I've got to get it in me first and fit it to me, to my cunt and throat." "I could change your throat some if you need it." "This is great," giggled Cindy, "let's see how much I can get in my throat first." Rick felt his cock getting thicker and longer as Cindy moved it around in her mouth and throat. She took it out and looked at it. "Okay, I want to curve it up a little more. There, that should be enough. Now, make my neck a little longer and open up the entrance to my throat a little more, toward the front. Get that dental mirror from the bathroom... Look at where my tongue leads down into my throat. Flatten that part out a little so it'll be easier to get your cock down into my throat. Let's try that." Cindy got into her Cindy on top 69 position and swallowed Rick's cock. Rick felt it getting thicker and longer again as Cindy took it in and out of her throat, finally holding it all the way in for a few seconds before she took it out and looked at herself in the mirror. "How's my neck look? Could it be any longer?" "Maybe a little, it always was a little too short... that looks good." "Let's try it again." Cindy held his cock all the way in again and lengthened it some more. "I'm going to hang my head off the end of the bed. I want you to thrust your cock all the way in me, as far as you can and hold it there, do it hard a few times, just don't bruise my lips." Rick had never fucked her throat before, he never dreamed she would want him to. Cindy moved her head around and Rick worked his cock around until it just wouldn't go in any farther. He held it there while Cindy made her final adjustments and then took it out. She smiled up at Rick as he bent down to kiss her upside-down mouth. It felt nice as they thrust their tongues all the way into each other's mouths, playing with their tongues as they lay flat together. "Try your cock in my cunt. How do we get back like this again?" "Don't know, file it away in our minds somehow, I guess." "I'm going to call it my 69 version," smiled Cindy, "you call yours the same." "Go slow now, I don't know if my cunt is as long as my throat or not. That's it, get your crotch tight against mine, tilt it up a little, get it all in. It's touching the top of my cunt, can you feel it?" "Yeah, feels nice." "Thrust it in some, do it hard... that's it. Keep it up for a while, I'm going to make it thicker. Ohhh, that's it, fuck me, come on, fuck me hard... try to press your cock up against my clit, Ohh, I can feel its head pushing back and forth in my cunt when you do that, hold me tight, kiss me, I'm coming." "Don't stop, fuck me again... do it for yourself... I'm going to make it bigger... that feels wonderful... harder, ah ah ah ah ah ahhhh... leave it in me, don't let me go." "I'm going to call that my fuck version," sighed Cindy as she came back to earth. "Take it out and let me look at it. Look at that thing! I had that in me?" "All of it, and it was great from my side too," said Rick. "Sit on my thighs and hold my cock against your belly." "Its head is up to my navel! Let me sit on it... There, it's all the way in, all the way up to here," said Cindy punching her navel in hard as if she was trying to feel its head before she lifted herself up off of it. "How big is it?" "...Nine inches long and two and a half wide," replied Rick as he returned the ruler to the desk drawer. "Can you change it back to your 69 version?" "Yeah, there it is. Now your fuck version... you've got it." "Cindy, how's our food supply?" "I just went shopping, we've got plenty. Why?" "I want us to change genders for two days." "You're serious, aren't you?" "Yes, I want to see what it really feels like to be a woman." "It could take longer than two days... we could always reset the timer, couldn't we." "How do we do this?" "What do you mean? Oh, I have to turn yours off." "I couldn't even ask you to do that, I was really under your control. I'll turn yours off," mused Rick. "Okay, 'Fraulein E + V, two days' and shut the door. Your turn," said the tall brunette. "'Mann E + V, two days' and shut the door." "What's your name? I feel silly calling you Rick. Call me Chris." "How about Ruth." "Hi, Ruth, how about a fuck." "Sounds good Chris, climb aboard for a fitting. It goes in easier if it's curved up a little, doesn't it, there. All the way in, move it in and out a little. There, that's touching. Now, in and out while I make it bigger, ohhh, that's great. Tilt my pelvis some like I did yours... now all the way in. Better, you like it?" "Love it, a little change in your breasts. Sit up on me so I can see how they hang. I'm going to give you big ones so you can find out how it feels to have those things hanging on your chest," grinned Chris. "I like them," smiled Ruth as she cupped them in her hands. "Can you make them responsive to your touch? It's how they respond when you play with them that really matters. Suck on them while you do it. Something's happening, that feels great. It makes my cunt tingle. This is our transgender fuck version, right." "Yeah, we'll work on our transgender 69 version later. Do you like doing that?" asked Chris as Ruth slowly rocked back and forth on his pubis. "Yeah, I'm going to keep this up 'till I cum. Does it feel good to you?" "Yess." "Hold my breasts," breathed Ruth as she leaned forward, "make love to them." Her clit was on fire as she slid it back and forth over his pubic hair, each stroke moving his cock from side to side in her cunt until she fell from the giddy heights of her climax, collapsing on Chris' chest, her mind lost in the afterglow of her passion. "Did you cum?" asked a groggy Ruth. "I don't remember much after my climax started, the pleasure was so intense I think I lost touch with reality." "No, not quite but I've kept it alive?" "I can fix that," said Ruth as she moved her feet to squat over his cock. She rocked back and forth on her feet, sliding her cunt up and down on his cock; Chris thrusting up to meet each stroke, harder and harder until she felt his cock pulsing his cum into her, his thrusts slowing until he lay still under her. Ruth lowered herself to the bottom of his cock and started to rock again until she collapsed onto his chest once more. "Roll me over and fuck me," whispered Ruth as she moved her mouth from his hungry lips to his ear. They rolled together, Ruth impaled on Chris' cock for two hours now. Chris started to thrust deep into Ruth as she met his thrusts, their thrusts harder, almost violent, again and again until they came together; Ruth's eyes were closed, a smile on her lips, her breathing rapid. Chris pulled his cock from within her and pressed his ear between her breasts, listening to her heartbeat, waiting for it to slow. Ruth stirred, smiling at Chris as she reached up to hold his face between her hands and then turned to lie in his arms. "Put your cock back in my cunt, let me lie here with it in me," whispered Ruth. "This is really something, isn't it," said Ruth as she ran her fingers through Chris' hair. "Unbelievable. Do you realize I've had a hard-on for three hours now. Is it going to stay this way for two days?" "I sort of control your body, don't I? Maybe it's my desire for you that's keeping it up, but then it's your desire for me that's keeping me so hot. Let's uncouple and go get a drink, I'll put a robe on this time.""This wine is good, I like it," said Ruth. "Me too, how do you like being a woman now?" "It's only been three hours. The sex is unbelievable. I knew women's orgasms were good, but I never expected them to be this intense, and to be able to cum again and again. The physical part is different, I feel funny when I walk, and my butt feels enormous. Going to the bathroom sure is different, having to sit down to pee was interesting, and then I had to wipe myself. The long hair is a pain." "How do you like those big breasts I gave you?" "I love them, they're not too big at all. I like to feel them bounce when I walk." "Do you want them bigger?" "I don't want them to look ridiculous, but they could be bigger. You be the judge, make them as big as you think they could be without being obscene. ... Yeah, fuller at the top, I like that. How big are they?" "I'll have to get my tape and measure them. ... Your bra size is 34 D, and your bust is 38, you'll stand out in a crowd." "Hey! My hard-on's gone." "I've been working on it. As long as I don't want you to fuck me, it'll stay down, but you've got to stop wanting me to let you fuck me." "How do you like being a man?" "I guess it's the same answer, the sex is great. I don't see why you ever complained about it not being intense enough. The sensation is completely different, but when I cum, I'm completely satisfied. The urge comes back again, and then I fuck you and go back to sleep," laughed Chris. "My body is nice, I think it'll be easy to care for, and you guys do have a handy pisser." "How about your mind. Do you miss being a woman?" "That's a hard one. It's probably too early to tell, but I don't think so. I pretty much remember being a woman and all the feelings that went with it, but I'm a man now, and those things no longer matter to me. How about you?" "The same I guess. I was satisfied to be a man, but the curiosity about how it would feel to be fucked and what it really felt like to be a woman got to me. Now I know how the sex feels both ways, and I guess I like the female version better, but I'm not sure the tradeoffs are worth it." "What tradeoffs?" "Having periods, loss of strength, pantyhose, GETTING PREGNANT! You could make me pregnant!" "Take it easy, I was on the pill. Take one of mine, and you won't ovulate, no periods, no pregnancy." "It's getting late. I want to suck your cock before we go to sleep, how about some 69?" "We said we would work on our transgender 69 versions, didn't we." "How am I going to do this? I'm not sure I've done this enough to be able to take you in my throat without gagging." "I bet if I want you to, you'll be able to do it. Get on top of me, and let's try it. You've got to make my cock a lot smaller first. ... That's it, now take it in as far as you can. Okay, it's at the back of your throat, tilt your head way back, take a deep breath, and push your throat down over it. ... You did it, now take it out." "I did do it, didn't I. It felt sort of good too." "I'm going to do the same things to your neck and throat that you did to mine. Sit up straight and hand me that mirror. I'll make your neck a little longer ... that looks nice. Now the entrance to your throat ... does that feel okay?" "Yeah, it doesn't feel any different." "Now, make my cock fit your throat. Make it as long as you can take, just like you did for your cunt, and then make it wide enough to feel good. Yours feels best to me when it really fills my throat, as big as I can make it and still get it in comfortably." "That's right, get your teeth down tight against my groin, get some of my scrotum in. Come back up and take a deep breath, then, when you get it all in, make it longer until you feel it pressing against the bottom of your throat. That's it, I can feel the bottom. Now work on it until it feels good when it slides in and out, nice and full. You're going to make me cum, take it in your mouth this time. Ohhh, that's so good, that feels good to me, but you do it for yourself. ... Back to work. Last step, head back off the bed, and let's check it. Put a little more curve in it near the end. It goes in easily now, can you feel it touch bottom when I do this? ... Make it long enough so you can feel it touch. ... That's it." "I liked it when we kissed upside down before, do it again. I like it, our tongues together like that. Chris, what would we do if we had to stay like this?" "I don't know, I guess it would be okay. Would it bother you?" "What about Cindy and Rick and their marriage?" "That's us, I'm Cindy and you're Rick. We're married." "You would never prove that in a court of law. We killed them, disposed of their bodies and took over their house and money. You could prove that." "I love you, Ruth. Do you Love me?" "Of course I do, I love you, Chris, and I always will. Now turn around and let me suck that delicious looking cock of yours." "Not until you kiss me 'upside down' again." The kiss lasted a long time before Chris moved his lips and tongue to the hollow of Ruth's throat and then to her breasts, bathing them with his tongue; her vulva wetted by her rising passions as he nursed her nipples while she nursed his. Tongues flicking in their navels while hands explored bush and muff, his tongue tickling the crease of her thigh and vulva while she pressed his cock to her cheek and lips. His hard cock beckoning her soft wet lips to slide down over its head while he drew her clit between his lips, tongues flicking to excite cock and clit; hollow cheeks drawing his cock deeper into her mouth until her labored breathing slowed its entrance, a deep breath and her lips were buried in his bush, pressed to his groin by her teeth. His cock-head against the bottom of her throat, while his tongue strained within her cunt to join his cock. Her lips and tongue slithered the length of his cock as she raised her head and then slowly back to its base, her heart racing as her throat filled with his cock again and again. Lips and tongues and mouths caressing, flicking, sucking cock and clit; orgasms, fueled by the fire of their passions, slowing their upward spiral as mouths moved from the centers of their sex to tease, returning quickly to fan the flames and then away to tease. She felt his lips nibbling her labia, his tongue lapping down the depth and length of her slit as she took his sack into her mouth; drawing it in until her lips and teeth closed behind his balls, gently pulling on them as his tongue thrust into her cunt. Her lips closed around his cock-head as he drew her clit into his mouth and flicked his tongue over its tiny head, too far now to hold back any longer; her hand pressed his face to her as she plunged his cock into her throat, taking it in and out full stroke as her clit fluttered in and out of his mouth; twirling her lips over his cock-head, taking it in deeper, feeling his tongue strike sparks on her clit as she sucked the first traces of cum from his cock. His cock starting to pulse out his cum as the contractions within her cunt sent those overpowering waves of euphoric ecstasy rippling through her body; dimly aware of his shuddering body as she swallowed the cum that had flowed over her tongue and took his cock-head to the bottom of her throat, feeling its last pulse shoot his cum down to her stomach. The need to breathe forced her to release his cock out into her mouth where she held it until her mind could focus on the gentle caressing of her clit. She felt his hands resting lightly on her head, caressing her cheeks and hair, then holding her head as he thrust his cock to the bottom of her willing throat. She pressed his face tightly to her vulva as she felt his fingers enter her cunt to rekindle the smoldering embers of her passion. There seemed to be no end to their desire, one orgasm only fading before another was started; they had to decide to stop and rest. "I never dreamed such sex was possible," said Ruth, "I don't ever want to stop, I have to force myself to just lie here in your arms." "I still have my hard-on." "I know, I can't help it, I still want you. Chris, I just want to lie back with my eyes closed while you eat me, please, just once this time." "Put these pillows under your hips and relax." His fingers gently spread her labia for his open mouth to kiss her cunt lips, his tongue thrusting deep within her, probing, tasting as he fucked her with his tongue. She smiled as she felt his tongue slowly slithering up the depth of her slit, pausing to probe her meatus with its tip before moving on to her clit; gently licking it, harder as she raised her vulva to him. His tongue licked her outer lips from clit to cunt and then back to her clit to flick it, back down between her lips on one side and back up the other for a quick suck of her clit. She moaned as he French-kissed her cunt again, sighed as the flat of his tongue lapped the length of her slit to her clit. Her hands pressed him to the thrust of her crotch as his mouth closed over top of her vulva, drawing her clit and hood in for his tongue to caress and flick; lips holding only her hood now while he sucked her clit from its cover to flick his tongue over it and let it slip back, sucking it in and out as he fucked his mouth with it. Her head was thrown back, eyes closed, faint murmurings coming from her open mouth as she squeezed her breasts. She reached for his head as he moved down to thrust his tongue into her cunt, pulling him back to her clit and pressing his face tight to her vulva. He slid his hands up the crease of her thighs, slipping his thumbs into her cunt as he drew her clit into his mouth once more.Her head rolled from side to side as her hands held him to her writhing pelvis, incoherent now as her body shuddered with each contraction of her cunt; holding his head tight to her, not letting it move as her hips fell back to the pillows, releasing him as the faint tremblings of her body ceased. He lay with his cheek against the softness of her vulva, looking into her smiling eyes as she gently ran her fingers through his hair. "Once was enough," she said as she pulled him up to lie against her breasts, tasting her sex from his lips. "Did you sleep well, Ruth?" "Like a baby, once I gave up trying to sleep on my stomach." "I slept that way sometimes when I was on a soft bed, but my breasts were not that big." "How did you sleep?" "Great, what's on the calendar?" "I need a shower and I'm hungry, should I douche?" "Probably, I put a lot of cum in you." "Take a shower with me and show me how." "No way, I'm hungry too, if I get in that shower with you I won't get to eat for two hours." "Okay," pouted Ruth, "just show me how to douche." "I like to use the water bottle, it's in the bathroom closet." ... "Here it is, fill it with body temperature water, screw this hose with the female nozzle into the bottle and hang it on the shower head. Stick the nozzle all the way up in your cunt, don't push it up in your uterus, just up to the top of your cunt. Release this clip and sort of flush yourself out, move it up and down and turn it around, do it before you shower. I'll fix breakfast while you're playing with yourself in the shower." They were both hungry so Chris fixed juice, bacon and eggs, and toast and coffee. Ruth finished her toilet and sat at the table just as Chris set the food out. The food was good and Chris had some more toast with jelly on it. "Still hungry, Chris?" "No, that's enough. Did you notice that we're at the other end of the house from the clock and nothing's happened?" "I want to try something, we need ... I want to ... damn, I'm going to turn your clock off and see if you change back. You've got a robe on so it'll be okay." "Okay, it's off. Any change?" asked Chris from the bedroom. "No, nothing." "Walk slowly toward the bedroom, don't come in." "Still nothing." "Go in the next room and stand against this wall." "Nothing." "Okay, slowly step through the doorway." "I changed," said Ruth as she looked down and saw Rick's cock. "Set the timer the same as mine and close the door. ... Now you're back to Ruth. You have to be in the same room with the clock for it to change you. I bet the change would be permanent if you never came back in this room. It might even be permanent if the clock was broken. We've got to be careful with this thing, Are you sure you want to do this for two days?" "Maybe longer," replied Ruth. "We're okay as long as long as one of us stays with the clock. I thought you liked being a man?" "I do, it's fun, at least for a while." "I love being a woman. I may never change back," laughed Ruth. "Look at this. The base of the clock has a drawer, there's two bracelets and a little book in it." "What's in the book?" "I don't know, it's not in English." "Let me see it," asked Chris. "It's a German dialect, I think I can make it out. ... It describes the clock ... basically what we've found out and it calls these slave bracelets. They can do about the same things but the rules are a little different, listen to this. If you do something ... whatever this is, to the bracelet, whoever is closest to you can change you and make you do anything they want you to do. This thing is old. It looks like the back cover and some of the pages about the clock are missing." "I'm going to put these instructions in my computer and translate it properly, there's only a few pages." "Want some coffee, Chris?" "Yeah, thanks, bring it in the study." "... Well, that's it. All done." "Well, what's it say about the bracelets?" asked Ruth. "They're sort of portable clocks except they don't have a timer. You use them when you're traveling. There's a male and female bracelet, here, this is yours and this is mine. See the F and M, woman and man. If you wear it on your right arm it makes you a man, your left arm makes you a woman. If you wear it with the figures looking up your arm your mind thinks you are what the figure sees, turn it the other way and it looks back at your previous self. Now here's the important part. If you pick it up and put it on your arm, then you're inviting anyone who comes near you to take control of you. If I hand it to you and you put it on, then you're my slave. No one can put it on you, only you. It doesn't have endurance and desire settings, if you want me to fuck you and I'm your slave, all you have to do is ask and I'll be able to do it as much as you want. "Oh, if the bracelets were in the drawer when we used the clock, they remember what the clock did. The reason we didn't find the drawer is that it won't open unless the one who opens it is under the clock's spell." "What holds it on my arm? There's no catch?" "It holds itself on, once you put it on you can't get it off, sort of like the clock door." "Can I put it on now?" "Sure, just turn it the right way, left arm with the figure looking at you. Remember, I gave it to you." "I'm your slave," purred Ruth as she closed the bracelet around her left wrist. "Look, it sort of fused itself together, it's all one piece. Here, put yours on." "I'm your slave now," smiled Chris as he closed the bracelet around his wrist. "I want to test it. I'll change your hair to blonde." "It works," said Ruth as she looked down at the long blonde hair hanging over her shoulder. "Do you like it blonde?" "Not really. I'll change it back ... there." "I want to test it," said Ruth. "Go ahead." "Fuck me." "If you insist," answered Chris, watching his cock swell to Ruth's transgender fuck version. "I had that in me! I'd forgotten how big it was." "All of it, and loved it," said Chris, "I'll get your juices flowing first, ... I love to put my face in your pussy, It's so soft and warm; it's taste and odors really turn me on, faint this morning though. Did you really like to eat me? I know you said you did but did it excite you to do it?" "I loved it, it was a real turn-on. You tasted good too. I douched this morning, remember? That's why the taste is so faint, a pussy has to season for a while before it comes to full flavor," purred Ruth. "Yeah, it's getting better." "Do me from behind, here, let me put some K-Y on it. Go slow ... that's it ... push ... ahhh ... it's in, it feels so good ... move it's head in and out of me ... you could do that forever. ... Go a little deeper each time ... just a tiny bit deeper each time ... I love to feel it coming in my cunt like this, each stroke is like a new fuck. You're too slick, pull it out and wipe it off with this towel. Now you've got to start all over ... I can feel you stretching me. How much more of that thing is there?" "It's almost in, push yourself back on me. I guess it goes in deeper this way. Can you take all of it?" "Yeah, you push, keep easing it in, it feels good when it pushes up inside me like that ... I think it's all in. Take it all the way out and fill me in one stroke, ahhh, again, fuck me ... ohhh ... come on, fuck me e e e." "Try rubbing your clit with your hand while I massage your breasts. If this feels any better to you than it does to me I don't see how you can stand it ... I'm cumming." "Me too, do it harder ... your turn ... next. Don't take it out, I'm going to turn around ... hold me." "What did you mean 'your turn next'?" asked Chris as he broke their kiss. "Give me your arm and I'll show you," said Ruth as she rolled off of Chris and reached for his bracelet. "How do I get this thing off? I just pull it apart don't I. It just popped open! Hi, Cindy. Okay, put it on your other arm." "It is me isn't it," smiled Cindy, "Now what are we going to do?" Ruth just sat there, a pained look on her face. "Ruth, what do you want me to do? Oh, you can't ask can you. Give me your arm. ... There, it's off. Hi, Rick." "I felt so helpless," said Rick as he put his bracelet on his other arm. "I couldn't say or do anything to get you to take it off. I really was your slave." "Did you mind?" "Mind? Oh, mind being your slave. No, I already gave myself to you when I married you." "You're sweet, now I suppose you're going to show me how you felt?" "Right on, lay back and let me warm you up ... you taste good ... I really do like to eat you, eating you even made me cum one night last month." "Stop talking and pay attention to what you're doing," purred Cindy as she pressed his face to her vulva and looked at his cock. "I think I'm as ready as I'll ever be for that thing." "It's just the way you made it," smiled Rick as he moved in behind her. "I'm going to do it just like you did it to me, I can remember every inch of every stroke." "Stop talking and fuck me," whispered Cindy as she felt his cock-head pop into her cunt. "You almost pass out when Ruth reaches her climax don't you," said Cindy as she lay in Rick's arms. "I guess I do. I'm off on a cloud somewhere." "I got all giddy when I reached my climax just now." "Does a bigger cock feel better?" "It does to me, I can close my cunt down on a small one and it feels good, but having one in me that really fills me completely feels great.Having sex with you just massaging my clit is good, but I have to feel a cock moving in my cunt for it to be great sex. That big cock doesn't just slide in and out of me, I can feel its head rippling through the folds of my cunt when it comes in and feel my cunt closing in behind it when you pull it out. And feeling it pressing against the top of my cunt when you drove it all the way in was out of this world. Some women don't like for a cock to press on their cervix, but I sure do. The best was when you let your cock just touch my cunt lips and then thrust it through them and up against the top of my cunt in one smooth stroke. "Well, is it better to fuck or be fucked?" "You tell me," said Cindy as she reached for Rick's bracelet. "Hi, Ruth," said Cindy as Ruth reached for Cindy's arm. "Hi, Chris. Fuck me." "Your request is my command, oh mistress," replied Chris, "which end?" "This one, silly," laughed Ruth as she turned to her stomach and raised her butt. "I have to prepare you first, mistress," replied Chris as he rolled her over and closed his mouth over her nipple. "You don't need the K-Y when I'm already hot and wet, and you ease it in like that. It feels better with just my juices. If you promise to keep doing this, I'll never change back. . . . Take it out and then thrust all of it up into me . . . again . . . again. Now fuck me the way you want to. If I arch my back, can you reach my breasts and still get it all the way in? Yeah. I'm going to tilt your pelvis up a little. That's it, . . . harder, . . . I'm cumming, ah ah ah ah ah ahhhh." "Ruth, are you all right?" asked a worried Chris as he held her in his arms. "Your face looks so funny." "That's my fresh-fucked look, I'll be okay if you put your cock back in me and kiss me. It's definitely better to be fucked than fuck unless it gets old with time, at least for me. How about you?" "I'm completely satisfied either way, And eating your pussy is getting better each time, it almost made me cum just now." "Chris, we've got to find out about the rest of this change. I think there's more to life than sex." "There is?" "Probably," laughed Ruth. "That's what we have to find out. I think I can handle our finances so we'll be safe there and we don't have to worry about jobs. No one's going to be looking for Cindy and Rick that knew them, so we should just change names along with our gender. I want to stay this way for two months. I'll stay on the pill and we can find out about life beyond sex. There's something else. I never thought I would say this . . . I think I want to bear a child." "We could change back and then I could bear one too, couldn't we?" said Chris, remembering how he had felt about children before he had changed. "I don't see why not, Rick," smiled Ruth, "call me Cindy. Can you wait nine months?" ". . . Yes. It would be better to do it that way while the clock is working properly," said Rick. "Who knows how long it's going to last. If something happens to it, I'll change back automatically and so will you after you give birth; at least that's what your translation of the instructions said." "Yes, they did. They also told how to make childbirth painless. You enlarge my birth canal and make my cervix more resilient so it can dilate enough for the baby to just slip through." "I'm hungry, let's eat lunch. I'll fix something until you learn how to cook," said Rick. "Is this part of this learning to be a woman thing? Why don't you cook?" "Why don't we find out who the best cook is?" "I'll buy that. We've got to get our clothes straightened out after we eat, your bras will never fit me." "My blouses probably won't either. I think your men's stuff will do me for a while." "Want a slice of pie?" "Okay. What does it take for a man's basic wardrobe?" asked Rick. "Socks, a pair of casual shoes, dress shoes, underwear boxer shorts for your big cock and T-shirts, jeans and dress slacks, sport shirts and dress shirts, a sweater and a light jacket, a blue blazer and a belt." "That's not all that much." "No, it's not. What do I need?" "A lot," said Rick. "Hose and pantyhose, socks, sport shoes, low heel, medium heel and high heel shoes to match your clothes with matching handbags, panties, seamless front close cotton bras in different colors, plunging neckline bras in different colors, jeans, slacks, shorts, skirts, blouses, T-shirts, tops, dresses, sweaters, jackets and a coat." "Wow." "Yeah, let's go in the bedroom and look in the closets." "Rick, are you sure you want my hips this big?" "Yeah, they're not fat. You just have a wide pelvis, you look good to a man. Stand in front of that full-length mirror and open your robe, see the smooth curve of your hip and thigh, that looks sexy as hell to a man. You know how Flo Ziegfeld used to pick his chorus girls?" "How?" "Stand with your ankles tight together. Now, see these three coins. I'm going to see if you can hold one between your knees, calves and thighs." "My knees don't touch." "They do now," smiled Rick as he adjusted her knee joints, "and so do your calves, your thighs don't quite touch, but I always thought his girl's thighs were too plump. Would you have whistled at that figure?" "Yeah, it is sort of sexy, isn't it." "Sort of?" "Okay, you win, it's sexy," smiled Cindy, "Dress me up." "Not much is going to fit, you're taller than I was. I can get you to the store with these panties, shoes, jeans and a loose sweater." Cindy put them on, and Rick laid out examples of everything else she needed on the bed. Cindy made a list of them, and they guessed at the sizes. Rick came out better. He needed larger shirts, shoes and socks and boxer shorts. "How are we going to pay for all of this?" asked Rick. "I keep a couple of thousand in the floor safe for things like this, we'll each take a stack of twenties and a few hundreds. I keep drawing it out of the ATM each time I go to the grocery store and putting it in the safe." The cab took them to the mall and let them out at the Penney's entrance. Cindy helped Rick with his things, and then they started in on Cindy's list. The lingerie was first. "May I help you?" asked the middle-aged sales lady. "Yes, My husband thinks I need a new wardrobe, and I need a number of things. I've gained a little weight, and I'll need to check the sizes." "Let's measure you first, and then we can select some things, the fitting room is over here. I wish I had your figure," sighed the lady, "you're certainly not overweight. Would you remove your sweater please, I need to get your bra size. Oh my, 34, 38, 34 D cup, oh my." Rick followed close behind Cindy, nudging her when she came to the right thing as they picked out the lingerie, getting her some seamless soft cotton bras to wear under her tight spandex tops. The sales lady helped her try things on, placed the items on the counter and led them to the next area. Cindy did pretty well with the rest of the items herself, and they added them to the pile. "Can I leave these things here? I need some shoes." "Of course, the shoe department is right over there." The shoes went pretty well, and they both got what they wanted. "I think we're finished now," said Cindy. "How do you wish to pay?" "Cash." "Cash?" "Cash." "That will be six hundred thirty-six dollars and forty-two cents," said the sales lady, watching Cindy's face to see her expression. Cindy calmly opened her purse and counted out six hundred dollar bills and three twenties, handed them to the lady and waited for her change. "Could you have these things sent to package pick up?" asked Cindy. "Certainly. Here's your receipt." "Thank you for shopping at Penney's." "You're welcome, and thank you." "I want to get you some more things at another store," said Rick. "What things?" "Never mind, just come with me." Rick found "Victoria's Secret" and led her in. "I want you to get one of those seamless sheer silk bras and matching high leg panties and that sheer underwire bra and thong panty." "Rick, my nipples will show through, in fact that one may not even cover my nipples." "I know, you won't look like you're wearing a bra, and you'll still jiggle some, now get them," smiled Rick. "Think how you'll feel wearing them." "That's what I am thinking about, I'll be hot all the time." "So!" "You're right," purred Cindy. "That's what they're for, aren't they." "Yeah, and for me." "May I help you?" asked a young sales clerk who was about Cindy's age. "Yes, I would like to try on these two sets." "Do you know your size?" asked the young lady as she looked at the smile on Rick's face. "Thirty-four D and thirty-six." "D?" she asked, trying to tell what was hidden under Cindy's sweater. "D." "The fitting room is over here . . . let's start with this set." Cindy hesitated for a moment before she unbuttoned her jeans, what was left of her male mind looking at the attractive young woman she was about to undress in front of. The clerk's eyes bulged as Cindy's sweater rose above her breasts. "This one fits you perfectly, like a second skin," sighed the young lady as she ran her fingers under the edges of the bra, checking the fit. "And these panties . . . you'd better be careful when your husband sees you in this," she said smiling. "What about this set?" asked Cindy blushing as she adjusted the Bra. "It doesn't cover my areolae." "That's right, wait 'till you see what the panties don't cover. . . . You'll have to shave off a little more along the sides, the top is okay."I'm not sure you should let him see you in this at all, not with your body." "That's why I'm getting them," purred Cindy. "I've never worn one of these thongs before, it feels funny between my cheeks. I'm not sure it's very comfortable." "You have a wide pelvis, you'll get used to it quickly. I have one on and I don't even notice it." "My husband likes it, I think I'll take two of each set, one in black and one in flesh tone." "I think you'll like wearing it just for yourself. Sometimes I wear mine to the mall just to walk around and feel sexy." "Will that be all?" the sales clerk asked as they returned to the counter, smiling at Rick. "Yes, thank you." Cindy paid for the purchase and they went outside to find a cab. The driver stopped at Penney's package pick up for their purchases and then took them home. "Well, Rick, we made it home in one piece." "Was there ever any doubt?" "There was when I had to strip naked in front of that woman to try on those clothes." "She's a woman, you're a woman. She was just doing her job." "Try arguing that the next time you're undressing in a locker room with a bunch of men," laughed Cindy. "Let's put our things away and eat supper." "I finished putting mine up, I didn't have much. I'll finish fixing supper while you put your stuff up." Rick had put a roast in the oven and set the timer so it would be ready for supper. He had put on jeans and a new sport shirt and was wearing loafers. The shoes were okay but the shirt and jeans were not as soft as his woman's clothes had been and the boxer shorts felt like, well, boxer shorts. He finished the rest of the things and put them on the table and waited for Cindy in the family room. "Cindy, you look nice." "It's just shorts and a blouse." "Yeah, but outside of that stuff you wore shopping, the only other way I've seen you is naked or with my old robe on." "Which way's best?" "Naked." "I thought you'd say that," laughed Cindy. "Supper's on the table." "You're wearing a bra! Do you like it?" "It stopped my breasts from bouncing and jiggling so much, but then I liked to feel them do that." "All day long?" "A day and a half, the novelty was beginning to wear off." "I liked to go without one sometimes. There's a good movie on the dish in a few minutes." "Turn it on, I'll do the dishes." "It's started, sit beside me on the sofa." "Couldn't keep me away." "Cindy, what are we going to do tomorrow?" "I'll stay in bed and you can fuck me." "I thought that's what we were going to do tonight." "It is. I'll just stay there and you can keep fucking me. We're on our first real honeymoon and I want to spend a lot of time in bed with you. Do we have to sleep with these bracelets on?" "No, in fact we shouldn't do it. The bracelets can't tell when we're dreaming and will try to respond. The clock can tell when we're dreaming." "Ugh," shuddered Cindy, remembering some of the nightmares she'd had. "What about the changes we made to ourselves with the bracelets?" "When we put the bracelets in the drawer, they update the clock. The only problem is that I think we change back until we reset the clock and then it takes over again." "I guess we shouldn't use the bracelets except when we have to go outside or something." "Let's go in the bedroom and change to the clock." "Okay, Rick, give me your arm. There, it's in the drawer." "Give me your arm. Now yours is in the drawer," said Rick. "Did you feel anything?" "Just a little in my breasts. I guess the clock just took over and then reset itself, the timer's still running," replied Cindy, "I probably just felt the changes you made to me, I'm going to set your timer for twelve days." "I'll set yours." "Want a fuck or a blowjob?" purred Cindy. "69. Lie on top of me with your pussy on my face. . . . That's nice; stay there 'til we fall asleep."

Part II, The New Beginning

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/17527.txt

deirdre

rp: deridre - Four

"Come! I have to show you," said Peg, pulling on my arm as soon as Larry and I had walked in the front door. She wasn't indicating Larry--just me. I glanced at him, but gave in, following Peg. I didn't see any of the other husbands around, and briefly felt guilty about abandoning Larry to Shannon and Denise. He hadn't even really wanted to come: I could tell. Well, at least he'd enjoy *looking* at Shannon. Men generally do. "What is it?" I asked as Peg led me to the kitchen, then down the basement stairs. Dinner at Shannon's: we'd gotten this idea one Saturday when the four of us had gone out for lunch. A chance to drag...I mean *get* our husbands to a nice dinner, and Shannon could show off her cooking. I'd only been to Shannon's house once before, and was still taking it all in: she does have a way with decor. Once in the basement, we turned a corner. I gasped: in front of us were three naked men! They were standing, tied, blindfolded and gagged. It was the husbands. "What do you think?" whispered Peg into my ear. I stared. They just stood there, and I realized they were tied by the neck to the ceiling so they couldn't sit down or even move around very much. "Peg, what's going on?" I whispered in her ear, confused. As well as shocked. "Isn't it great?" she whispered back. *Great?* Was *that* the word to describe this? What was I going to do? This was the last thing I expected to find at Shannon's: come to a dinner party; find *this*, whatever it was. What was Larry going to think of all this? "Peg," I whispered. "This is *strange*. Are they OK?" "Sure! They love it," came the returned whisper. I looked at them. They just stood there. "Come on," she said, leading me back upstairs. Somehow I was embarrassed at those men possibly hearing me. I kept my voice down: "Peg, this is too weird. We've got to go." "What!? You just got here: this is our dinner together." "Larry won't like this!" What *would* Larry think? I had no idea what he would think, but I had the uncomfortable feeling that it would be that my friends and their husbands were totally crazy. Which is about what I was thinking at the time. "Oh, I don't know about that: guys *love* this sort of thing." What did she mean by that? Larry would *like* visiting three couples with the three men bound, naked? Those guys *like* this? I supposed they must or how did they let themselves get *into* their situation. "Look!" she added, still quietly. She'd led me to the opening to the family room and I stopped, staring at the scene in front of me. Shannon and Larry were staring at each other. Shannon was sitting in the middle of a table, her legs spread apart, her heels on the table, her elbows resting on her knees. She wore rather tight-fitting pants that emphasized her long, slender limbs and her slender, athletic body. She was staring straight at Larry, looking very serious. And he was standing in the middle of the room, staring right back at her! Neither of them moved when we came into view. Denise just stood leaning against the wall opposite Peg and me, watching them. Peg was indicating that I should be quiet. No one said anything, but no one seemed inclined to either. The air was definitely very tense. Shannon moved just a little, and even though it looked like she was just adjusting, I realized that her body movements were *very* sexy. She smiled at Larry. "You like what you see, don't you?" She was obviously talking to Larry, but he didn't answer: he just stared. I could see why he was intrigued by her, but I was shocked. He seemed to be oblivious to everything but her! "Don't you?" she repeated. "Yes," he said in a low voice. She smiled in response, but I didn't quite like her smile. I looked away. I happened to see into the dining room, noticing that Shannon had gone all out: good china, the works. And I realized that there were only four places set! Peg touched me and indicated to me to watch again, silently. Shannon put her legs down over the edge of the table, then stood. She moved so gracefully, like a cat. "You want me." "Yes." "You don't care about *anything* but *me*, do you?" No answer. She went on: "Right now: you care *just* about me." "Yes." She paused. Then she said: "Take off your shirt: right here." After another short pause, she said: "For me." He still just stared at her. She smiled again. "You *said* you want me. Do it. Right now. Right in front of your wife. For me." She seemed almost gleeful as she mentioned me. He did it. He started unbuttoning his shirt! She giggled a little and said "So much for loyalty!" At the same time, she ran her hands up and down her own body. Her outfit was so tight. He had the shirt off. She moved slightly closer. "Strip," she said. I noticed that Denise was holding handcuffs and a gag and other such things. He did it. He stood there naked. "Good boy," she said, looking him up and down deliberately. She motioned with her head to Denise without actually looking at her. Denise came up behind Larry and cuffed his hands together. He still just stood there, staring at Shannon! "I told you he'd like it," whispered Peg in my ear. Then she pulled me back from the door while Shannon and Denise led Larry out and toward the basement. I watched them disappear down the stairs. Larry'd never looked at me. "It's just us girls, tonight," said Peg. Then she said "Come," was dragging me again. She led me upstairs and into a bedroom. She opened a jewelry box. "Shannon wants us to wear her jewelry." She pulled out a string of pearls. "Shannon's wearing this. Try it on." She put it around my neck and attached it. *Larry naked in the basement, I'm trying on a pearl necklace.* The necklace was beautiful. Shannon and Denise appeared at the door. "Here, try this," said Shannon, having picked out a necklace with a locket. It seemed old-fashioned, but it was seeming old-fashioned just to wear any sort of necklace. Peg was wearing a gold chain and the two of us went back downstairs. I thought about Larry in the basement. What did he think of all this? How could he stare at Shannon like that, right in front of me? The table was absolutely fabulous: everything set to perfection. Denise came down, wearing two fine gold chains around her neck. Then Shannon walked in. She was naked. Well, she had on the pearls and heels: absolutely nothing else. Not even rings. "Looks nice with the pearls," commented Denise, smiling. What a body Shannon had! She told us we could sit and went in the kitchen bringing out the entre. Denise started taking off her blouse! She had no bra on and sat down wearing nothing above her skirt except for the two gold chains! Shannon had gone back into the kitchen. Walking around the house, naked in heels. "Want to?" asked Peg, looking at me, her fingers on the buttons of her blouse. She must have seen my answer in my face, because she immediately gave up on the idea and sat down, indicating that I should do the same. Well, I got used to it, sort of, and we were drinking wine, gossiping. Once in a while, my eyes would stray to Shannon's naked chest and I'd remember the guys downstairs, but it was amazing how I seemed to adjust to the whole thing. The meal was amazing: Shannon must have been planning it for a week--the dessert was heavenly. Afterwards they said it was time for the guys to have some fun and Shannon brought out a leather strap. I stared at the way the guys just stood there and took it, not seeming to want to escape or anything. We left the four of them lying face-down on the floor, having removed their handcuffs and told them to get dressed again. By the time they came up, Shannon and Denise were dressed too. Larry and I were silent, walking back to the car. What I'd watched him do! What *I'd* done! Once in the car, he grabbed me and kissed me!He was so passionate I couldn't believe it! We never said a word the whole way home, and we made love over and over that night, not a word between us. And that was our first such get-together. Now it's amazing to see Larry getting excited as we get ready to go to these things: he doesn't say anything, but I can tell. And afterwards he is always ready. As I am: I'm always ready for more, even after our post-dinner upstairs activities. I'm no longer so shy at dinner, and Shannon's let me wear the pearls. I don't have her body, but I love those pearls. Afterwards we always start by adjourning to Shannon's bedroom. Peg and I like to form our legs into a scissor around each other's sex and rub ourselves together. We can sit there on the bed while we do it, resting on our arms, and look at each other's faces. Shannon will tongue Denise's nipples: Denise just loves that, and will come from just that. I think Shannon would like to be licked down there, but none of us has ventured into that yet. She just gets Denise to finger her.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/7646.txt

deirdre

Mall

"Well?" said Diane, suddenly out of the blue. I didn't get what she was thinking of. "Well what?" I responded. "What do you think of *that* one?" I realized what, I mean *who*, she was talking about: this girl who had just walked by us in an entirely-too-brief bikini. We were relaxing in the sun with our daiquiris, talking just a little *too* much. I giggled, but didn't know why Diane would point out the girl. "A bit daring. She must figure she's got the body for it," I finally responded. I suppose I *could* have worn a bikini, even if my body wasn't quite like that 20-year-old's, but I'm more of a one-piece kind of person. "And she does, too, the little devil," responded Diane. She just stared as the girl continued to walk away. "Couldn't you just imagine licking that rear?" Gulp. "What?!" Diane giggled. Without meaning to, I found my eyes on the girl's rear: the bikini bottom wasn't a g-string by any means, but the legs *were* cut awfully high. "It's just so *cute*," continued Diane. "You know, I did that once, in college." "Did what?" "Licked a woman's rear--just one time." I was agog. I don't know *what* I would have done if I hadn't had the drinks, but as it was I just sat there thinking. Diane after women? Well, she said it was in college: a little one-time fling. I tried to act collected: "A little experimenting?" "Sort of--she was assisting in this swim class." I realized I'd prompted her to go on, and there was indeed a part of me that did want to know the story. "We could take swimming for phys ed and Liz was a senior helping out with the class. After the semester was over, we were both around for the summer session and she coached me a few more times." She paused for a little while, then went on. "She had a key and we could get in in the mornings before the pool opened. At the end of Summer once, at our lockers after our showers, she... well, she started telling me to do things." She paused. *Things*? I almost said it out loud, but I guess my inhibitions made me just sit there silently waiting for her to continue. "She told me to come over to where she was. I didn't know what was up and did it, still wrapped in my towel. She then said 'Get on your knees for a minute'. I was confused by it all, but I did it just like she said. Then she took off her towel and looked down at me. "*She* had a *really* great body--she was athletic and in perfect shape. I guess I'd had a crush on her for a while but just didn't realize it. I still remember: she smiled at me, then turned around so her rear was right in front of me. She put a hand on the lockers to brace herself and looked over her shoulder down at me. 'You like my rear?' she asked. Then she said 'Touch it.' "It *was* so perfect--muscular and round. I reached up and touched her cheek. She giggled a little and told me to get dressed. We walked back to her dorm room. I think she had a room by herself for the summer. When we got there, she put her hand on my face and sort-of caressed my cheek and chin--I still remember that: she was a little shorter than I was and I felt like this big geek next to her. "Then she pulled off her shorts and underpants. I stood there like an idiot. She lay on the bed face down and twisting around so she could see me, told me to get between her legs. "I was right there at her rear. She told me to kiss it. I kissed her cheek and she told me to do it 'between'. I pulled her cheeks apart and tried. She said to use my tongue and I did. Then she turned back away so she wasn't facing me. I just did it some more and she just said 'nice', once in a while, and I heard her breath catch a little. Finally she said 'OK' and hopped up and pulled on her clothes again. She said 'You're a good little learner' and opened the door, signalling me to leave. On the way out, she gave my rear a little pat. "In the hall, there was another girl--probably a senior because it was a senior hall, and I still remember that she and Liz exchanged these sly little smiles while I stood there like an idiot. And that's the last I ever saw of her." Well, I didn't know how to answer *that*. It would seem natural to ask her if she had other such experiences or thoughts, but there was *no way* I was going to continue along those lines. Actually, we just sat there a while, me feeling a bit uncomfortable, and then we talked about other things. Well, the next morning, the whole story came back to me, and without the influence of drink, I was feeling absolutely mortified. Diane telling me those things! It was going to be hard to face her for lunch--part of me wished we hadn't planned something quite so soon. I'd rather have had more time to get used to what she'd said. "You're having trouble with it, aren't you?" Diane said in the middle of our lunch conversation. "With what?" "My little confession yesterday. I'm sorry I embarrassed you." "No, I'm ok." "You're not afraid of me now, are you?" "No--I guess we do a lot of wild things in college: it's not like you do that stuff now." She didn't answer. I looked at her and suddenly felt funny. Something about the look on her face. The moment suddenly seemed awkward to me and I involuntarily giggled to try and cover it up. Then she spoke: "I did it again." "No!" came my involuntary answer. She smiled. "Last night, with that girl we saw." "Diane..." I was at a loss to know how to go on. I must have been blushing so much. "It's really rather nice." "Diane!" I stood up from the table. My reflexes were about to make me run, but for a moment I stood there, my brain still trying to figure out what I should be doing. "Jeez I'm sorry, I embarrassed you," she said, quickly putting some money on the table. We left, having hardly touched our lunches. Out in the mall, we walked and I realized Diane was leading the way. And I came to think she had the right idea: shopping together would take our minds off our disastrous conversation. Why had Diane pushed the subject so much? Did she want me to know this stuff about her? She'd led me into a clothing store and was talking to a salesgirl.The salesgirl led us toward the back, then right into the stock room. "Get on your knees," said Diane to me, as she did it herself. Suddenly I was confused. Diane pulled on my arm and I ended up kneeling too. The salesgirl lifted her skirt and turned away from us. She wore nothing underneath! We were on our knees right behind her. She looked back at us over her shoulder. Diane looked at me and grabbed the woman's hips, one hand on each side. She smiled at me and gave me a slight nod. I stood up and practically ran out of there. I'd been kneeling behind that woman! I reached the mall and looked back. No sign of them. I sat down on a nearby bench, my heart beating almost out of my chest. I suddenly realized that the salesgirl was the same girl as we saw at the pool, or at least it might have been her. I'd driven us to the mall so I had to wait for Diane. I was so confused, just sitting there. I waited and waited. Occasionally a vision of them back there flashed through my mind. Doing whatever. *That* certainly kept me on edge. I waited. Finally the salesgirl came out and saw me. Seeing her again, I was almost certain it was the girl from the pool. She came over. "Your friend left through the back," she said. I stood. What do I do now? "Do you know where she went?" I asked. "Come," she said and headed back into the store. I didn't know what else to do so I followed her. She allowed me to catch up and we walked toward the back of the store. "Listen, please don't be angry with your friend," she said. "I'm not," I answered, just to be saying something. We'd reached the back of the store and were walking into the same stock room. "It really isn't so bad--you should see what it feels like when someone does it to you." "Uh..." Suddenly I was wary. "You'd see why we like it. I want to show you what it feels like." Suddenly she was on her knees, undoing my pants! She briefly looked up at me. She was such a lovely little creature. I had the brief thought that she planned to put her tongue right on my anus. I didn't move. She turned me around, having gotten my pants and underpants down. She started caressing my cheeks, then put a finger between them. I twisted around for a second to see her and she smiled up at me. She licked a finger, then started touching me with it, back there. The feeling! I was facing the wall, but in seconds, my mind was mush. She kept touching me for a while. Then I felt her spreading my cheeks, and felt her tongue. I know my breathing was no longer normal. I looked again. It was Diane! She was completely naked and a long black cloth was tied around her eyes! The woman was standing a bit behind Diane. She had this satisfied smile on her face. I lie on my bed on my stomach, my chin resting on my fists. I'm naked and my legs are spread. Diane is between them, holding my cheeks apart, her tongue right *there*. Occasionally I indulge myself like this and give in to her constant begging to come see me over and over. I shut my eyes, lay my head sideways and slide one hand under my body so I can reach my clitoris.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/14278.txt

Rob

The Partners

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

Part 2 -- Total Control

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/18240.txt

The Lingerie Shop

"Hi. Welcome to 'Softwear'," Lindsay said as Dave Pearson, a cute new customer, walked into her lingerie shop. "May I help you find something special?" "No," he replied. "I just want to look around a bit." "Great. If I can help you in any way, please let me know." Lindsay Conlan liked having good-looking men like Dave come in to shop because most times they are lost when they start looking around. This gives her a perfect opportunity to provide special assistance. Lindsay knows her business well and has a knack for suggesting just the right thing for a guy to get his wife or girlfriend. She has worked in the business for ten years and has built up quite a following. A lot of her business these days is referral. As she watched Dave haphazardly meander around the store, it was obvious that he really didn't know where to begin. "Are you looking for something for a special occasion?" she asked as she approached him. "An anniversary gift," he replied. "Congratulations," she responded. "Do you have any particular color in mind? By the way, my name's Lindsay. What's yours?" "I'm Dave," he answered. "I like red." "That's a good choice, Dave. It's very popular, and we have a lot of things in red. This is the sleepwear section. Are you interested in sleepwear?" "No, was thinking of underthings," he replied timidly. "Oh, a bra and panties or a nice teddy are always good choices." "What do you have in those?" Dave asked. Lindsay led him towards the bras and panties. "What size does your wife wear?" she asked. Dave pulled a slip of paper from his wallet. "She wears a 34B bra and size 5 panties," he announced proudly, as though he had just spelled a difficult word for his teacher. "We have a great selection of those," Lindsay replied. "In fact, those are my sizes too." She then began to pull a variety of red bra and panty sets from the racks and show them to Dave. "Are these the sort you had in mind?" she asked. "Or these? Or these?" "No, those are all too plain looking...too old-womanish," Dave replied. "Oh, so you'd like something a little more daring...more revealing perhaps?" "Yes, that's it," Dave agreed. "Traci loves really sexy things, and I like them too," he continued, blushing slightly. "Dave, you're a man after my own heart. I'll bet that a good-looking guy like you has a really cute wife who looks absolutely delicious in things like this," Lindsay said as she started selecting her sexiest line of lingerie. She could feel her pussy getting wet thinking about offering Dave her "special service." Lindsay showed Dave two more choices, which he really seemed to like. Now his problem was deciding which to buy. One was a lace set, and the other was a very sheer mesh fabric with lace trim around the edges. Both were very revealing. Dave held up one and then the other. "Which do you like best, Lindsay?" he finally asked. "Well, I like both sets, Dave, but it's not up to me. Perhaps I can do something to help you make your decision." "What's that?" Dave asked. "Well, since they are my size, I could model them for you? Then you can see what they look like on." "Gee, Lindsay, that'd be great," Dave replied enthusiastically. He felt his cock begin to twitch as he thought about what Lindsay's offer meant...or what he hoped it meant. He was about to see this very attractive woman dressed in sexy underwear that would hide very little of her secret charms. "Are you sure you don't mind?" he went on. "Why no, I'd be delighted," Lindsay responded. "It's the least I can do for such a cute, considerate husband. Let's go back to my office." "This can't really be true," Dave thought to himself. "She's going to wear a bodystocking or something else under it." Nonetheless, he started to get hard as he fantasized about pretty blonde Lindsay wearing only a red bra and panties. "Before we start, I need to know what sort of hose your wife will wear with these. Does she wear stockings or pantyhose?" "I like for her to wear stockings," Dave answered. "Does she wear regular stockings with a garter belt or thigh highs?" Lindsay went on. "I like garter belts, although she doesn't wear them often enough. She usually wears the kind that stay up by themselves. Do you know what I mean?" "Of course I do, Dave," Lindsay replied confidently. Then she went to the rack and found a garter belt to match each set and found red hose as well. "OK, I think we're all set. Let's go see how you like these when you see them on." She led Dave to a small sitting room adjoining her office, set up for just this purpose. "Which would you like to see first?" she asked. "These," Dave answered as he held up the mesh set. His answer was primarily based on the fact that this was the more revealing of the two sets. If Lindsay did indeed wear only this underwear, she wouldn't be able to hide much. "Have a seat, Dave," Lindsay instructed as she pointed to the couch. "I'll be right out," she continued as she ducked into her office to change. As Lindsay stripped out of her clothes, she called her husband's office. "Hi, honey. I just wanted to let you know that I have a hot one going here. I'm about to model some sexy stuff for him. I think he'll end up wanting more than just some lingerie. I hope you're ready to hear all about it when I get home." "Hey, sweetheart, that's great," her husband Jim replied. "Don't forget the video." "Oh, don't worry. It's all set. I just have to press 'record' and I'll have some hot stuff for us to watch tonight. I'd better go now. He's waiting in the other room." Lindsay finished putting on the sexy red panties and bra that Dave had picked out. "I'll be right out, Dave. I just want to get these hose on straight," she said, hoping to help build up his sense of anticipation. Then she put on the garters and hose. Before she opened the door to make her appearance, she turned on the video camera. She would have a nice souvenir tape to bring home to her husband tonight. "Wow, that's terrific!" was Dave's response as Lindsay stood in front of him. His highest hopes were realized. Dressed in nothing but the lingerie that he had picked out, Lindsay's pink nipples and a small patch of dark brown hair could easily be seen through the sheer fabric. "Do you like this one, Dave?" Lindsay asked as she leisurely turned and posed, enjoying Dave's lust-filled glances. "Yeah, it's great," he replied. It was hard for him to speak; he was so surprised by his good fortune. "Now let's see what you think of the other outfit," she said. As she turned to go back into her office, she deliberately dropped a piece of paper and bent to pick it up. She was facing away from him so that her nearly bare ass was pointed directly at him. She heard him gasp as he got a glimpse of her shaved, moist pussy lips (Lindsay kept her pussy shaved except for an area at the top of her slit). She wouldn't have been surprised to feel his touch as she held that pose for several seconds, but when it didn't happen, she stood up and walked into her office. Her pussy was getting very wet. When she returned to the modelling room, she noticed that Dave had a serious lump in his pants, and when he saw her looking at it, he tried to cover it with his hands. She said nothing about it for the moment but instead posed for him again. "Well, Dave, how do you like this one?" Lindsay asked after she'd posed for a few minutes. "It's still a tough choice. I'm still not sure," Dave replied with a grin. "Maybe I should see the first one again." "I can put it back on if you'd like, but are you sure that you're not saying that just to keep me prancing around out here half-naked? From the looks of that bulge in your pants, it looks like you like what you see." "Yes, in fact I do," Dave admitted. "You're right. I do enjoy seeing you like this...but I'll bet you really like the idea too." "You got me there, Dave," Lindsay admitted. "I do love modelling for cute fellas like you." Lindsay went into her office again but quickly came back out. "Dave, I'm having trouble getting this bra undone. Would you be a good sport and help me with it?" She turned her back to him so that he had access to the hooks. It took no effort for him to undo the hooks, and Lindsay deliberately let the bra fall to the floor. She was about to turn around to face Dave when she felt him put his arms around her, placing his hands on her breasts. She grasped his hands and squeezed them, forcing him to squeeze her breasts. "Oh, Dave. You have such a nice touch," she moaned. She felt a rush as she anticipated the fun that was just beginning."How about helping me out of these too," Lindsay asked as she turned to face him and reached down to touch her panties. Dave quickly slipped off the panties and then took Lindsay in his arms. He kissed her passionately before running his tongue along her throat and down her chest where he stopped to lick and kiss each of her breasts. Lindsay savored Dave's oral attention to her breasts for a few seconds. When he started to move his tongue down her body toward her pussy, she stopped him. "Dave, you have far too many clothes on. Let's get you undressed so we can do each other. I can't wait to suck that hard cock of yours." In less than fifteen seconds, Dave was out of his clothes. Lindsay guided him over to the couch where she laid him on his back and she got over him, placing her dripping cunt directly over his face. "Your shaved cunt is gorgeous," Dave exclaimed. "I wish Traci would do that." "I'm glad you like it. I think your cock is gorgeous too," Lindsay replied as she bent forward and took it in her mouth. For the next thirty minutes, Dave and Lindsay enjoyed some really hot sex. Dave had a great imagination, and he fucked her in every position Lindsay had ever heard of or tried. Finally, after he dumped his second load of cum in her pussy, he was finished. Lindsay tried hard to get him up one more time, but he couldn't do it. "I'm sorry, Lindsay," he said finally. "I wish I could do it again, but I think I'm finished for a while." "No problem, Dave. You were really a tiger. Your wife is a very lucky gal to have someone as considerate and exciting as you for a husband." Dave winced momentarily at the mention of his wife. He had just been unfaithful to her for the first time. He also suddenly realized the time. He had taken an early lunch to come to the shop, and he'd been gone for well over an hour. He had to get back to work. "I'd better get going," he blurted, "before I get in trouble at work." He quickly got dressed. "I think I'll take the first outfit," he said almost as an afterthought, "and with the garter belt." "Great," Lindsay replied as she went into her office to retrieve the sheerest bra, panty, and garter set. From her desk, she called the front counter on the intercom. "Jill, could you come to the office for a minute. I have an order here that needs to be written up rather quickly. I'm indisposed..if you know what I mean." "Sure, Lindsay. Be right there," her partner replied. "Was he fun?" "Sure was..and very cute too. Maybe he'll come back some time and you can model for him." "Just wait here in the office while my partner writes up your order," Lindsay said to Dave. "It will just take her a minute." Dave's eyes lit up when Lindsay's very sexy blonde partner, Jill, entered the office. "Dave, this is Jill. She'll always be happy to help you if I'm not in when you stop by. She likes to give guys like you special service too. Oh, and Jill, this one's on the house. It's Dave's anniversary. Let's make this a special present for his sexy wife." Dave winced again as Traci was mentioned. Lindsay noticed his reaction. "Dave, next time you come by, bring your wife along. We love to have couples shop with us..and I think you mentioned that you'd like to have Traci shave. Well, if she ever decides to try it, we can do it for her and teach the two of you how to take care of it." "Gee, Lindsay, that sounds great, but I doubt that she'll agree to that. I will bring her by here sometime though. You have a lot of very nice things that I'm sure she'd like." When Dave left with his package of sexy and slightly used lingerie, Lindsay suddenly remembered the video camera. She went to the office to shut it off and decided to sneak a look at the tape. This was the first time the new video equipment had been used since her husband put it in last weekend. She and Jim had simulated a modelling session and then had some good sex on the couch as they tested the setup, but they had been aware of where the camera was. Lindsay had forgotten all about the camera when she was playing with Dave. She hoped she still got most of it on tape. She retrieved the tape from the camera and put it in the small TV/VCR on her desk. As soon as the tape started to play, she felt herself getting horny again. Everything that had gone on between her and Dave was there, including the conversation. Lindsay learned that watching herself in a "fuck film" was a very erotic experience. She began playing with herself, and when she got to the place where Dave's hard cock first slipped into her cunt, she came. Jill heard Lindsay's moans of pleasure from the front of the store and went quietly to see what she was doing. She peered through the slightly open door and saw her partner sitting there masturbating as she watched herself on TV. Jill began to rub her own pussy through her dress and was about to go in to help Lindsay when she heard someone enter the store. She cleared her throat to get Lindsay's attention and then held her finger to her lips, suggesting that Lindsay be less noisy in her pleasure. Lindsay jumped and blushed as she realized what she'd been doing. "Oh, Jill, this is so hot," she said. "I can't wait until Jim sees it. I know he'll be real excited." "That's great, Lindsay," Jill replied. "Just don't forget to put another tape in just in case we need it." "Good idea," Lindsay agreed as she got a tape from the filing cabinet and put it in. Then she called her husband to tell him the good news. "Honey, it worked perfectly," she exclaimed when Jim picked up the phone. "Everything I did with him is there on tape. It's so hot I came again just from watching it." "That's great. I can't wait to see it. I take it that the modelling session went as you expected." "Well, he fucked me twice. That's one more time than I expected.. but I'm not complaining," Lindsay replied with a giggle. "I can't wait until I can hear all about it and see the tape tonight," Jim concluded. "Don't be late coming home."She was thinking about going back to the office to watch the tape a second time when Ron came into the store. He had brought a cup of coffee for Jill and her. "Hey, Ron, guess what?" Lindsay blurted. "What?" Ron replied. "Something exciting happen?" "Lindsay made her first fuck film today," Jill replied for her. "It must be pretty good because I heard her cum when she watched it afterwards." "Oh, really!" Ron exclaimed. "You had fun, huh, Lindsay?" "Sure did, Ron. It was a lot of fun, and the tape turned out good too. That sure was a great idea. I know Jim is going to love it," Lindsay went on. "Well, let's see it," Ron replied. "I mean, I assume you don't mind showing it to me." "No, not at all, but since Jill hasn't seen it either, why don't the two of you watch it together," Lindsay suggested. "Great idea, Lindsay," Jill said. "Come on, Ron. Let's go back to the office and see what she was so excited about." Lindsay stayed up front while Ron and Jill went to the office. At first, she didn't hear anything, but then she thought she heard soft moans, which she assumed meant that Jill was getting fucked. She sat listening to the sounds of pleasure as they grew steadily louder. It sounded like Jill was close to cumming when an attractive woman entered the store. Lindsay welcomed the customer and then, saying she'd be right back to help her, she hurried back to the office to quiet the two lovebirds. When she opened the office door, she saw Jill bent over the desk with her skirt thrown up over her back as Ron was ramming her from behind. The two stopped their lovemaking in mid-stroke as Lindsay held her finger to her lips and then whispered, "customer" as she pointed toward the front of the store. "I'll try to get her to try something on," she said softly. "Wait by the mirror." Lindsay returned to the sales floor and found her customer browsing in the teddy section. "Are you finding what you like?" she asked. "Yes, you have a really nice selection of things," the woman replied. "Are you finding your size?" Lindsay continued. "Yes, I think so, although I'm not real sure what size I need in this sort of thing." "I'd say you'd probably take a small, but it's best to try them on to be sure. Some brands are sized differently than others," Lindsay suggested, hoping that the woman would take her advice. "I think I'll do that," she replied. "I think I'd like to try these two on," she continued as she held up two different sizes of the same teddy. "Why don't you try these as well," Lindsay suggested as she pulled two other styles from the rack. "Many of our customers think this line is the most comfortable." The woman took the merchandise from Lindsay and then followed her back to the fitting room. "Take your time," Lindsay encouraged her. "If you need any help, just let me know." Then Lindsay quickly started the video camera and then went into the modelling room to join Jill and Ron as they watched the woman start to undress. The woman had no idea that one cock was beginning to get hard and two pussies were getting wet at the sight of her disrobing. "She has a very nice figure," Jill whispered when the customer had stripped down to her bra and panties. "Really nice tits," Ron agreed as the woman removed her bra, "but not as nice as the ones in this room." He put an arm around each of the women and began to caress their breasts. Lindsay's and Jill's both reached down to rub Ron's cock. They giggled as their hands touched. "Don't fight over me, girls," Ron said with a laugh. "There's plenty of me for both of you..if you're willing to take turns." The woman had now removed her panties, and her thick brown bush was plainly displayed as she turned to face the mirror. She rubbed her pussy lightly to fluff up her beaver. "I'd love to eat that," Ron said as he ran his tongue over his lips. "Wouldn't we all," Lindsay replied. "But since I can't do that, I'm going to eat what's available on this side of the glass." Then she knelt before Ron, unzipped his pants, and quickly dislodged his hard cock. Then she popped it into her mouth and began sucking him vigorously. Remembering the camera, she turned Ron to the side so that the camera could get a good view of her mouth as it engulfed his cock. "Jim's going to see me suck two cocks today," she said. "He'll really love that, although I'm sure he'll feel bad that he missed out on the fun." Jill watched her husband get his cock sucked by her partner. She also kept an eye on the activity in the fitting room. The two sexy scenes were getting her very hot, and she soon had pulled up her skirt and was rubbing her pussy. Ron saw what his sexy wife was doing, and he now had two women to watch while the third was giving his cock a vigorous workout with her mouth. "This is great!" he said. "You should take your panties off, dear, and sit facing the camera. Then we'll get you on tape too." Jill quickly complied, slipping off her panties and sitting on the front edge of the chair with her knees spread wide. She soon had three of her fingers buried deep in her hairless twat as she worked her way to orgasm. Meanwhile, Lindsay changed positions so that Ron could fill her pussy instead of her mouth. Ron was soon fucking her energetically as he approached orgasm. Jill came just as Ron shot his hot load into Lindsay's cunt. They all three were momentarily numb. Fortunately, Jill regained her senses just as the attractive customer was gathering her things and preparing to leave the fitting room. "I'll take care of the sale," Jill announced as she quickly got up. She didn't bother to put her panties back on. She hoped that she might return to the modelling room in a few minutes and have a little more fun with her husband..that is, if he could get it up again. After all, she hadn't been fucked yet today. That night when Jim got home from work, his wife had the video tape of the day's cum-filled events all ready to play. She called him into the TV room where she sat waiting, wearing only panties, a garter belt, and hose. She had wanted to remove the panties as well, but her pussy was still dripping cum from Dave and Ron. She didn't want to spill it all on the couch. "My, this is a nice sight to come home to," Jim exclaimed when he saw his wife. "I like this new business already." "I brought home three souvenirs for you," Lindsay said as she slipped off her panties and laid back on the couch. "One of them is in the VCR, and the other two are in here," she continued as she pointed to her pussy. "So he came twice in your pussy," Jim concluded. "That's great." "Well, yes, actually Dave came twice, and Ron came once." "Wow! You have been a very busy girl today," Jim replied as he laid down between his wife's thighs and began to eat her cum-filled pussy. When Jim had cleaned Lindsay's cunt to his satisfaction, he asked to hear about what happened. Lindsay recounted her episode with Dave, making a special point of telling Jim that Dave said he was going to send his wife Traci in to shop. "Make sure you call me if she comes in," Jim replied. "I'd take time off from work to come over and watch her. That would be a real kick." After Jim and Lindsay had watched the video tape of her antics with Dave and Ron, and Jill's playing with herself, they were both ready for more sex. It didn't take Jim long to add one more load of cum to Lindsay's hot cunt. "Yes," Jim repeated as they ate a very late dinner, "I really like the way this new business is working out. I didn't expect it to have such great results so soon. The next day at the shop went rather quietly. There was a steady stream of business, but none that gave opportunity for hanky-panky. A couple of good-looking men came in over the lunch hour and looked around a bit, but neither of them seemed to focus on any particular items, and the store was too busy when they were there for either Jill or Lindsay to spend much time tempting them. At around three o'clock, a very cute young brunette entered the shop. Lindsay greeted her and asked her if she could be of assistance. The woman seemed rather nervous at first and stumbled a good deal as she tried to explain what she wanted. "I don't really know how to go about this..what to say really," she finally blurted out. "My husband was in here yesterday and bought me a very pretty anniversary present which I like a lot. There is something that I'd like to get for him for our anniversary too...a sort of a surprise really." "Oh, are you Traci?" Lindsay asked. She immediately felt a rush as she recalled the time she'd spent yesterday with this woman's husband. "Yes," the woman answered in surprise. "How did you know?" "I remember helping your husband Dave select his purchase. He said it was for your anniversary. He told me a lot about you..and how pretty you were. He's certainly right about that," Lindsay went on. "Oh," Traci said, blushing slightly. "Well, did he say anything else about me..like what he wanted me to do?" she continued. Lindsay thought for a minute, and then it hit her. "Yes," she replied. "He mentioned that he wished you'd shave. Is that what you mean?" "That's it," Traci replied as she blushed even more and stared at the floor. "I'd like to do that for him as my surprise anniversary present, but I've never done it and I wouldn't know how." "Oh, no problem," Lindsay said as she felt her pussy getting wet at the thought of shaving this woman's cunt. "We did tell your husband that we would be happy to shave you for the first time and then to explain how to take care of yourself once you've been shaved." "Great, that's just what I am looking for," Traci said with a smile. "I know that Dave will be thrilled when he finds out I've done it. When can I have it done?" Lindsay was suddenly stumped. She hadn't really expected it to happen when she suggested it yesterday. They weren't set up to do anything like this. "Let me check the schedule," Lindsay said as she tried to buy some time to think this out."I'll be right back." "Jill, you'll never believe who this woman is and what she wants," she began as she got to the office. "Try me," Jill replied with a grin. "I hope it's exciting because I'm horny and bored." Lindsay related her conversation with Dave about shaving and the request that Traci was now making for it to be done. "What should we do?" she asked. "This is a great opportunity that I don't want to miss. Can you imagine the fun of shaving this hot woman's twat?" "I'll bet it's really a sweet one," Jill agreed. "I noticed her when she came in. She's really cute. I'll bet our husbands will love to see that tape." "Speaking of husbands, I've got to call mine," Lindsay suddenly remembered. "He told me to call him if Dave's wife ever came in. He wants to be here to watch if she uses the fitting room. I'll call him and see what he thinks we can do." Lindsay called Jim and told him about her dilemma. "Hey, babe, that sounds easy to fix," he assured her. "Let's just get a solid folding table, a good pad, and some shaving supplies. Ron and I can get those tonight and you can make an appointment with her for tomorrow." "But we have one more problem," Lindsay continued. "Neither Jill nor I have ever shaved one before. You guys always do the shaving." "True," Jim said as he thought for a few seconds. "See how she'd feel if a guy did the shaving. Just tell her that you have a male barber who does that sort of thing. If she objects strongly then you'll have to have some lessons tonight." "If she agrees to it what time should I tell her," Lindsay went on. "Try ten o'clock. If that's bad let her choose the time. I'll gladly make time to shave any woman's twat." "I've talked to our stylist," Lindsay said as she returned to talk to Traci. "How does ten o'clock tomorrow morning sound? Oh, and by the way, we hope you don't mind that the shaving will be done by a man. He's the best that we've found and we highly recommend him. He's very gentle and all of our other clients really prefer him." Traci hesitated for a moment when she heard Lindsay's comment about the shaving being done by a man. Then she agreed saying, "Well, my gynecologist is a man too and that doesn't bother me, so why should this be any different. I'll be here at ten tomorrow. Thanks so much. I know Dave will be very pleased." "I know he will be too," Lindsay confirmed as she recalled how excited Dave was when he first saw and tasted her own shaved lips. "It's all set," Lindsay said as she gave Jim the good news. "You and Ron have your project for the evening." Ron was very excited when Jim told him of the new development in the lingerie business. "But next time it's my turn," he said with a laugh. "That sounds fair to me," Jim agreed, "but we'll make sure it's on tape so we all can enjoy it later." By ten the next morning everything was all set. The table was set up. All Jim had to do when Traci arrived was to get a basin of hot water from the restroom sink. He even had wet towels heated in the microwave. "Just don't get them so hot you scald Traci's pussy," Lindsay had warned him. "I'll bet it gets pretty hot by itself," Jim shot back laughing. Traci arrived a couple of minutes late and was very nervous. "I'm really not sure about this," she confessed to Lindsay as they walked back to the modelling/shaving room. "Will it be real uncomfortable? My sister says I shouldn't do it. That it will itch a lot." "Traci, my partner Jill and I have been shaved for several years," Lindsay assured her. "The shaving is always done by the guy who'll be shaving you or his assistant. We take good care of ourselves and we've had no discomfort. And our husbands wouldn't think of letting either of us let our hair grow out again. Trust me. Both you and Dave will love it." Lindsay introduced Traci to Jim, "the pubic stylist." Jim and Ron had even gone to a uniform store the night before and gotten a white coat for the barber to wear. He looked very authentic. They also bought a shorter white robe for the women to wear when they were being shaved "in case they feel too self-conscious to be completely nude." "Hi, Traci," Jim began. "I understand that this is the first time you've ever had your pubic hair removed, is that true?" Jim sounded very clinical at first. "That's right," Traci confirmed. "Well, that's a real good decision," Jim assured her. "You wouldn't believe the number of women these days that are doing it." "Is that so?" Traci said skeptically. "Why is that?" she asked. "Well, I suppose most of them do it because they or their partner like the way it looks and feels. Others think it's easier to keep themselves clean when there is no hair in the way. Still others like to wear really brief swimsuits which don't cover their pubes," Jim continued. "He really sounds like he knows what he's talking about," Jill whispered to Lindsay as they sat in the office listening to what was going on. "Yeah, he's pretty convincing," Lindsay agreed with a laugh. Jim told Traci that she needed to disrobe from the waist down. He offered her the robe and suggested that she might be more comfortable undressing completely and putting on the robe. "That way none of your clothes will get wet," he suggested. Then he went into the office while Traci got ready. "You've started the tape haven't you?" he said to Lindsay. "We don't want to miss any of this. Traci is one very attractive young woman." "I knew she would be since her husband is so cute," Lindsay added. "I sure hope he comes back in again soon. I really enjoyed helping him." When Traci was ready Jim went back into the shaving room. "Have you thought at all about what style you want?" he asked. When Traci gave him a quizzical look he continued "Some women shave all of the hair. Others just take off the part around the lips and leave some on. I have an idea. Let me show you examples of both types. Jill and Lindsay, would you please come in here for a minute?" The wives were curious about what he wanted but they went in anyhow. There sat Traci on the table. She had her legs crossed so that her pussy was hidden for the moment and her upper body was covered by the short robe. "Girls," Jim said to them, "I have been explaining to Traci that she has a couple of options as to the style she wants to achieve. Since each of you have yours done differently how about showing her what the choices are." He winked at them as he spoke. "Sure Jim," Jill said as she lifted her skirt and slipped off her panties. Lindsay followed her lead and quickly they both stood with their skirts held up and their bare pussies on display. "See, Traci," Jim went on. "Lindsay here has left a patch of hair and just shaved the lips," Jim said as he ran his fingers up and down Lindsay's slit. "Jill has had it all taken off," he said as he gently rubbed her pussy as well. "They both feel wonderfully soft and sexy," he went on. They all three watched Traci's face as she sat staring at the two pussies that had just been exposed to her. Traci seemed transfixed by the sight. She could feel a tingling in her pussy. She had never seen even one shaved pussy before and now there were two of them just an armslength away. There was something extremely fascinating about them. "Well, which style would you prefer?" Jim asked. His words snapped Traci out of her trance. "I..I think I'd like mine to be completely bare," she replied. "I think that's really what Dave has in mind." "Sure thing, Traci," Jim assured her. "I think you'll look great that way." "Can I ask a favor of either of you?" Traci asked timidly as she looked at the women. "Sure Traci. What would you like?" Jill asked. "I feel really weird about this but I'd like touch one of you to see what it feels like." "Hey, no problem," Lindsay and Jill replied in unison as they stepped forward. They each took one of Traci's extended hands and placed it against their pussies. "Ooooh, they feel nice," Traci moaned. "I've never touched another pussy before. You both feel so soft..and so exposed." "That's for sure," Jill agreed. "And they're even more fun to eat," Jim interjected. Traci ran her fingers up and down both of the slits that she was touching. Jill and Lindsay were starting to get very wet. "Traci, let's get you shaved and then we can all explore some more. OK?" "Great!" she replied as she leaned back and spread her thighs. Traci's gorgeous cunt was now wide open for the three of them and the camera. Jim immediately took the clippers and trimmed her dark brown beaver down to a short stubble. He asked Jill and Lindsay to help him as he worked around the harder to reach areas near Traci's asshole. Then the placed a hot towel over Traci's crotch. "We need to soften the hair as much as possible before we start to shave," he advised. "Warm water softens the hair. When you do this at home it will be easier if you do it right after you've taken a shower or a bath." As Jim sat waiting for the warm wetness to soften the stubble of Traci's beaver he noticed that her eyes were focused on something behind him. He turned to see Jill and Lindsay busily playing with each other's pussy. He thought about asking them to stop thinking they might frighten Traci, but he thought better of it when he noticed Traci place her hand inside of her robe and begin to rub her breast. "This is getting very interesting," he thought to himself. "Traci is even hotter than I had imagined." Jim deliberately rubbed his hand across Traci's pussy when he removed the hot towel. She jumped at his touch but she did not object. He then applied a generous amount of shaving cream and again deliberately caressed her cunt while doing it. She responded by slowly rotating her hips. In just a couple of minutes Jim had manipulated the razor around the folds of Traci's pretty cunt and had removed the remainder of her dark brown hair. He took a warm wet towel and wiped the area clean.Again, he made a special effort to caress her lips gently. Traci moaned softly as he wiped the towel up the length of her slit. She continued to rub her breast, and now her robe was open, and her entire body was on display. She was truly a beautiful woman. Dave was a very lucky guy. Jim was about to explain the final step, which was the application of aloe lotion to the entire pubic area. He originally planned to let Traci do this for herself, but she was so engrossed that he decided to enjoy the experience himself. He warmed the lotion in his hands and then began to cover Traci's entire cunt area with the moisturizing liquid. As his fingers gently caressed her soft folds and crevices, Traci began responding. When his fingers touched her asshole, she jumped, and she jumped again when he found her clit. Knowing that she was now very aroused, Jim decided to take a bold step. He knelt between her spread thighs and inched forward, preparing to eat this newly exposed cunt. When his tongue touched her lips, Traci suddenly realized what was happening. She stopped caressing her breast and put her hands down on Jim's head. "Ooooh, that feels nice," she said softly. "Does it feel nice to you too?" she asked. "It feels and tastes wonderful," Jim assured her. "Would you like to find out how really great it is?" he asked. "Yes," she replied. Jim beckoned to Lindsay. "Go sit on her face," he whispered. As Lindsay was climbing up on the table to take her assigned position, Jill asked, "What about me? I feel left out." "Suck my cock and get it really hard," Jim suggested. "Then you can take my place eating Traci while I fuck your hot cunt." Jill knelt in front of Jim and eagerly went to work on his already hard cock. He continued to eat Traci's cunt while he watched Traci experience her first attempt at eating pussy. She was doing well, and Lindsay's moans were evidence of that. "Alright, mister, it's my turn," Jill said as she got up and pushed him aside. "Let me at that slit. You've got a promise to keep." Then she moved into position and began to eat Traci's hot cunt. She carefully held her ass high in the air so that Jim could easily enter her from behind. He was soon pumping vigorously in and out of his wife's partner's pussy. "Man, this is great!" he muttered. "This is really great. Are you enjoying it too, Traci?" he asked. Traci didn't answer at first. Jim looked up at her to see if she was alright. She was still enthusiastically eating his wife's pussy. Then, as he watched, she stopped eating and started rocking her pelvis against Jill's face. Her face was contorted as if in great pain. Suddenly, her body shook, and she let out a loud moan as she collapsed on the table. Jim felt his cock slip out of Jill's vagina as she stood up to watch Traci. "I think she liked that," Jill said as she reached up and caressed Traci's firm breasts. "Ooooh, yes, that was very nice," Traci murmured. "That was very, very nice, but now I need to be fucked. Please fuck me, Jim." Jim was only too happy to oblige her. He stepped forward and effortlessly plunged his cock all the way into her wet cunt. She took him easily and began to rock back against him as he pumped in and out of her. "Traci, you are truly a great fuck," he said as he sensed the intensity of her passion growing. A few minutes later, the four of them were in two satisfied heaps. Lindsay and Jill had moved to the couch where they ate each other until they both came. Traci came again as Jim fucked her, and then he came, filling her with a hot load of cum. "That was very nice," Traci said as she started to get up. "I had no idea it could be so much fun to get myself shaved." "Traci, for you, the best is yet to come," Lindsay said as she regained her composure. "I can imagine already Dave's excitement when he sees what you've done. I think you'll have one very happy hubby tonight." A frown crossed Traci's face at the mention of her husband's name. "I sure hope he doesn't find out what else happened when I got shaved," she said, sounding very guilty. "I've never done anything like that before. I don't think he'd understand." "I think he'd understand better than you imagine," Lindsay replied. "How understanding would you be if he did something like that to you?" she asked. "Well, I guess now I couldn't really say very much, could I?" Traci replied self-consciously. "What if Dave was in the same boat?" Lindsay continued. "I don't understand," Traci said. "How could he be? Do you know something about him that I don't know?" "Traci, how do you think the subject of shaving pussies came up when he was here yesterday?" Lindsay asked. "I have no idea," Traci replied, sounding irritated. "How should I know? I wasn't here. What are you getting at, anyhow?" "Traci, did you have fun here today?" Jill asked. "Yes, I have to admit I enjoyed myself." "Will what you did be harmful to your marriage?" Jill went on. "Only if Dave finds out about it," Traci answered. "You mean the fact that you had sex with another man and two women doesn't change the way you feel about your husband, right?" Lindsay pushed further. "Not at all," Traci said firmly. "It really doesn't have anything to do with how I feel about my husband. But I still don't get what you're trying to say here." "Well, Traci, what if Dave had fun when he was here yesterday? Could you handle that?" Jim asked. "Oh, I get it. Dave got laid here yesterday, didn't he?" Traci said as a pained look crossed her face. "So that's how he knew about shaving pussies. Now I get it." "Well, we didn't say that's what happened," Lindsay concluded. "You should hear about that from Dave. Just as he should hear about what you did from you. We aren't going to say anything to him about it either." "OK, that's cool," Traci replied. "I guess I shouldn't complain. He sure was a tiger went we got in bed last night. I wondered what had inspired him. Now I guess I know. I'll have to return the favor tonight. I know he'll be excited anyhow when he sees my shaved pussy." "I'm sure he will," Jim agreed, "and you can tell him that I had to take a test drive when I was finished shaving you." Later that evening, as Jill and Ron were viewing the tape of the shaving episode, Jill wondered out loud about how things were going at the Pearson's house. She hoped that the two of them could avoid getting jealous and upset with each other since they were both in the same boat. "I'm sure it will all be OK," Ron assured her. "I'll bet Dave is so turned on by his wife's bare cunt that he won't really think of much else...and maybe, just maybe he's one of us guys who finds his wife's sexual adventures with other men exciting. If so, you and Lindsay and Jim have done him a big favor." At almost the same instant that Jill and Ron were speculating about Dave's reaction to his wife's hairless pussy, he was seeing it for the first time. While Dave was watching TV, Traci undressed and put on a robe. Then she walked up beside Dave, and as she dropped the robe to the floor, she said, "Happy anniversary, darling. I got something for you at the lingerie store today too." Her bare pussy was at Dave's eye level, and as he turned to look at her, he saw his eyes nearly pop out of his head. "WOW! That's fantastic..fucking fantastic," Dave yelled. "Traci, it looks incredible." Then he pulled her down on the couch beside him and buried his face in her newly shaved slit. For the next half hour, Dave was like a little boy with a new toy. He couldn't get enough of Traci's new look. He ate her, then fucked her, and then ate her again. Needless to say, Traci was delighted at such a positive response. "I'm glad you like it so much," Traci said when Dave finally had to stop for breath. "I had no idea that it would excite you like this. I should have had it done a long time ago. I like the way it feels too." "So tell me. When did you do this?" Dave asked as his curiosity got the better of him. "This morning," she replied. "I went in yesterday and made the appointment." "And who did the shaving?" Dave went on. "They had a 'pubic stylist' come in to do it," Traci said as she blushed slightly. "So neither of the women did it. That surprises me," Dave continued. "Where did they do it? Back in the modelling room?" "Modelling room? I didn't see any modelling room. They did it in a room in the back next to the office." "Did it have a dark blue couch in it?" Dave asked. "Yes." "That's the modelling room," he answered. "Why do you call it that?" Traci asked. "Oh, they just do. I really don't know why," Dave replied as he suddenly realized that the cat was getting out of the bag. "Were you back there?" Traci asked. "Me? No..well, ahh, yah, I guess I was," Dave admitted. "Oh. Did the women model for you? Is that how you found out that they have shaved pussies?" Traci asked as she figured out how Dave got seduced. "No, not really..that is, I only really dealt with Lindsay, the tall one," he went on. "Oh, the one with the little patch of hair left on hers?" Traci said with a smile. "How do you know that?" Dave asked. "They both showed me their shaves so I could decide whether I wanted it all taken off or just some of it like Lindsay," Traci answered. "Wow, that's interesting," Dave said as he felt his cock getting hard again, thinking about Lindsay's partially shaved cunt. "Did the other one shave completely?" he asked. "I would love to have seen hers too," he admitted. "Yes, she's completely bald like me," Traci confirmed, "and when I saw it, I thought it looked pretty sexy too. In fact, I thought it was so sexy that I had to touch it." "You what? You touched another woman's pussy?" Dave asked in disbelief. "I can't believe you'd do that?" He felt his cock getting harder as he pictured his wife with the two sex women from the lingerie shop. "What else happened?" he pressed. "Nothing," Traci replied tersely. "Tell me what happened when you were there," she pressed back."Nothing much, but I did get a real nice show, and Lindsay was really helpful." "That's all? Tell me the truth, Dave, and I'll do the same. I think I know what happened, and I'm not going to be angry about it, that is if you'll be honest with me. I think that what we have to tell each other leaves us about even." Dave thought for a minute about Traci's comment and about her calm demeanor. He also thought about his aching cock that wanted to get back into Traci's cunt as soon as possible. "OK," Dave began. "I'm not real proud of it, but I got laid. I fucked Lindsay right there on that blue couch. I didn't mean to do it, but she offered to model for me, and then when I saw her only wearing that really sexy lingerie, I couldn't resist." "That's what I thought," Traci announced with a sense of relief. "I didn't think you'd start anything like that, and it doesn't really bother me that you did it as long as you didn't keep it a secret and only did it for the sex." "So what do you have to tell me?" Dave countered. "I got laid too," she replied. "I fucked the guy who shaved me. I didn't mean to do it either, but I got turned on by his touching me there, and when he finished, he rubbed lotion on me. Then he began to eat me before I knew what was happening. Before you know it, he was doing it to me, and I was enjoying it." Traci's last admission was more than Dave's hard cock could take, so he laid her back down on the couch and rammed into her. Then he fucked her furiously until he came. He collapsed on her chest when he was finished. "It doesn't look like you're very upset with me," Traci giggled. "If you're going to fuck me like that whenever I get laid by someone else, I think I'll go out and do it again..soon." Dave and Traci were both surprised by their reactions to what had happened. Dave got so excited when Traci mentioned that she had eaten Lindsay's pussy and that Jill had eaten hers that she got fucked again. Then they stumbled off to bed. They didn't discuss any consequences of their discovery that night, but the next morning, Dave had an idea. "You know, sweetheart, with your new shaved look..and if you were serious last night about wanting sex with other men, you'd make a great saleswoman at that store. You ought to go down and talk to Jill and Lindsay about working for them. You'd fit right in, and it sounds like you all might enjoy working together." "Are you serious?" Traci asked. "Would you really want me to do that..I mean really?" "I really don't know," Dave said thoughtfully. "Would you like to? To be honest, I'm not upset about what happened yesterday. In fact, I really enjoyed the outcome. It's just that I'm not sure how I'd feel if I knew that you were going off to work in the morning and might get laid a time or two before you came home. I mean, it was a turn-on hearing about your fun yesterday, and I must be honest and say I really enjoyed Lindsay's modelling session. I'd also love to have Jill give me one too. I just really don't know..understand?" "Yes, I understand," Traci replied. "We're talking about some pretty heavy-duty stuff here. But we've also experienced some really heavy-duty stuff this week, and the outcome of that was some pretty spectacular sex..both at the shop and here in our own bed." "Let's think about it," Dave concluded, "and see how we feel later, OK?" Dave and Traci both hurried to get ready for work. Neither of them could think of much else. As they were sitting having a last cup of coffee before leaving for their jobs, Traci said, "I don't know why we're wasting our time even thinking about my getting a job at 'Softwear'. They wouldn't hire me. I have no sales experience, and if there's sex involved, those two women are so much more sophisticated and experienced than I that it's not even funny. Let's just forget the whole thing..OK?" "You really feel that way?" Dave asked. "I disagree. I think Jill and Lindsay would LOVE to hire you. I don't doubt for a minute that if you told them you were interested, they'd hire you on the spot." "Thanks, honey. That's very nice of you, but think about it. What have I got to offer those two?" "I'll make you a bet," Dave countered. "If you go to the shop and tell them you're interested in a job, and they don't hire you, I'll buy you any lingerie from there that you want. If they do offer you the job, I'll let you take it. How's that?" "Well, that's an interesting offer, and I appreciate it, but I know you're not really serious," Traci replied. "Yes, I'm very serious," Dave said, "but you have to try to get the job to collect. What have you got to lose?" As Dave drove to work that morning, he wondered what he might have gotten himself into. He had just implicitly given his sexy young wife permission to have sex with other men and women. He hadn't said it in exactly those words, but that was the essence of the conversation. While the reality of that possibility sank in, images of Traci getting shaved, eaten, and fucked yesterday kept popping into his head. His cock got harder and harder, and by the time he reached his office, he had to carry his briefcase in front of him to hide his conspicuous problem. Dave tried to call Traci later in the morning to see how she reacted to his offer. Her office said that she'd gone out on an errand. She was expected back soon. When she hadn't returned an hour later, he concluded that she must have gone to the shop. He thought of calling there but decided instead that seeing the two sexy blondes was worth the walk. He took an early lunch and headed up the street. "Hi, Dave," Lindsay greeted him warmly as he entered "Softwear." "It's nice to see you again. Have you come to see our new sales associate? If so, she's not here. She doesn't start for a couple weeks." "Holy shit!" Dave replied as he felt his heart jump into his throat. "You mean you just hired Traci?" "We sure did," Lindsay answered with a grin. "Jill and I both think you're one very cool husband to suggest it to her. From the way you reacted when Traci told you what happened yesterday, it sounds like you'll really enjoy having her work here. When I go home and tell my husband about the fun I have with men here, he fucks me silly too." "Well, I'm happy to hear that Traci got the job," Dave said as he looked at his watch. "I'd better be getting back to the office. I suspect that she'll be calling me to tell me." "Take your time, Dave," Lindsay advised. "I don't think she'll be calling you for a bit yet." "Why's that?" "Well, Jill called her husband, Ron, a while ago to tell him that we were hiring Traci. Last night, he watched the tape of Jim shaving and fucking Traci, and he knew he had to find a way to try her himself. When he found out we were hiring her, he insisted that one of us bring her by his office for an interview. I suspect that right about now, Traci is being given an in-depth and very personal interview by both Ron and Jill. Ron has a nice big couch in his office that is great for sex. I know because I've used it many times." "Holy shit! You mean it was your husband who fucked my wife..and you have a tape of it..and that's she's getting fucked again right now by Jill's husband. This is really wild. I have to see that tape." He felt his cock get instantly hard. Lindsay noticed the lump that had suddenly appeared in Dave's pants. "The tape is still at Jill's house, but I'll have her bring it in tomorrow. She also has one of you and me from two days ago. I'll make sure she brings it tomorrow too. Then you and Traci can watch them tomorrow night. Meantime, I see you have a problem, and I guess we should take care of it. We'll have to hurry though. My partner and our new sales associate are out screwing around somewhere, and I have to handle business by myself." Lindsay laughed at her dilemma as she led Dave to the back room, and Dave almost came in his pants as he anticipated fucking this delicious blonde.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/8040.txt

Bronwen

"Stocking Filler"

"It'll be brilliant. A real laugh," he'd said, and I had to agree with him, though I had my reservations. My husband, God bless him, was going to go the full Monty this Christmas and dress up as Santa. "You know the boys are old enough - and savvy enough - to stay awake to try to catch him this year. But as long as I'm disguised in the full regalia when the little buggers leap out of the wardrobe, the Christmas mystique'll be preserved to the hilt. You can't say that's not a great idea." It happened that a colleague of James had a Father Christmas outfit he was prepared to lend out. His own kids had grown out of Santa. James assured me that this was not only *an* outfit but *the* outfit, an extremely high-class job with stage-quality whiskers and real red velvet. So why wasn't I brimming with enthusiasm? Well, it was my husband's happy and ever-present knack of ballsing up simple domestic tasks - fixing the shower attachment so the only thing that got wet was the ceiling, managing to weld his toecaps together... Little things like that. "OK, sweetheart. You know how soppy I am about Christmas and the kids. It's a great idea. Very thoughtful. But no trying to come down the chimney. Don't forget the work we had done when they put in the new boiler!" With many promises of seemly conduct, my chirpy robin redbreast of a husband set off for the office on Christmas Eve, promising to knock my socks off with a superb bit of costuming at the witching hour. Well, I had plans of my own, but they'd have to wait. Wait while I wrapped stocking fillers, baked gingerbread, peeled vegetables for tomorrow's feast, entertained small boys and hid dozens of packages. We live in a big old house, but it's amazing how soon you run out of hiding places.... Seven o'clock came; supper time for the boys, and my beloved staggering home at last after battling his way through commuter hell: white, tired and carrying a large parcel. It's been a long year for both of us. He collapsed with a stiff drink, the Christmas TV guide and a marker pen. Two small boys to bathe, to read to and tuck in. I gaze at them fresh out of the bath: perfect limbs, chubby feet, silky blonde hair, sparkling eyes. They look unfeasibly angelic. "Now be sure to get to sleep straight away. You know Father Christmas won't come if you're awake." "Yes, mummy!" comes the chorus. Far too perky for children due for imminent sleep. Ah well, this year we have a secret weapon. Or two.... I smile to myself. Oh, well, onward and upward. Mummies don't stop. A happy, tiring evening for me - icing the Christmas cake to look like snow and arranging the traditional porcelain Santa on top, baking a few last-minute mince pies, ironing tiny best clothes for the morning (bringing as it would the witness of the grandparents' relentless video cameras...) James slumps in front of the box, soaking in my quiet domestic bustle. He likes housework. Could watch it for hours... James is looking forward to watching a late thriller. I lie to him. I have some final preparations before midnight mass, I say. If you do the stocking delivery when your movie finishes, I'll see you in the living room around 1 am... I give him a little wink. He grins back. We're already planning a little celebration of our own, but I want to conceal the time I'll need for my secret additional preparations for this erotic appointment.... But I'm not going to church. At midnight, I slip upstairs through the shadows and into the upstairs bathroom with a couple of expensive-looking bags. I light candles in the wall sconces, run myself a long, warm bath and produce my present from myself from the first carrier. I've bought myself a complete set of Chanel 19 products, and lollop glorious scented oil into the water with a lavish hand. I pile my hair on my head and slide down into the milky water. Half an hour of luxurious drifting. Lying in the perfumed steam, I stroke my pussy lips, squeeze my breasts, flick my nipple tips... Sensing myself drift into drowsy sexual reverie, I pull myself together and clamber out, relishing enjoying the warm but bracing snowdrift of our best towels. I've got things to do, and I'm too tired to relax. If I'm going to be ready to surprise James, I must at least keep awake! Weaken once, and I'll be out like a light 'til morning... Gleaming in the candlelight, I smooth body lotion up my legs and body, paying special attention to my breasts and thighs. None between my legs, though - strong perfume and pussy don't mix - not unless you fancy hopping about on one leg for ten minutes. Sitting on the loo with my feet on the edge of the sink, I paint my toenails scarlet. While they dry, I stick false ones in the same shade on my fingertips. Used to be I had lovely hands, but nowadays, with my lifestyle, elegant nails have become something I have to buy. Now for makeup. The whole works. James doesn't go for the natural look. "Slap it on, girl!" he always urges. "Let glamor be our watchword." I smile to myself, because James has no idea of my secret. He's expecting passion, yes, but he's expecting the housewife with her tousled allure - not a full-on temptress under the tree. Dusky eye-shadow, lashings of mascara, glitter highlights on the browbone, eyeliner to provide that Bambi look. A startled fawn for my big buck. Lastly, the lips. I outline them carefully with crimson, filling in with a brighter red and polishing off with gloss. A mouth as red and shiny as holly berries. A cock-sucking mouth. I'll stripe him like a candy cane. Poor bugger won't know what's hit him. Now for the second bag. I open it and peek in, relishing the monogrammed tissue paper. This was a very expensive treat. The bag is extremely light. Silk *is* light, after all. And when I slip the items one by one from the bag, I am certain James will be only too pleased to find the bill on our credit card statement. Scarlet garterbelt, split-crotch panties, tiny lace bra and a gauzy wrap. Obvious, yes, but saved from sleaze by the sheer quality and cut of the garments. Besides which, they don't make flimsy bras in my size at the cheaper end of the market. At least that's my excuse. I've bought stockings too, sheer black with a proper seam at the back. Fantasy stockings. I already have the shoes. Tiny red peeptoes with a four-inch spike heel. Of course, I can't actually walk in the damn things - but then I didn't buy them for that! As I put on my new lingerie, I study myself in the mirror. Leaning forward to settle my heavy breasts properly in the cups, I grin at my reflection. I'm not the slim girl James married. Time, my own good cooking and pregnancy have seen to that. But I'm deliciously feminine. My breasts aren't as high as they were, but - my, my - *aren't* they full now! As for my nipples, they're outrageous - jutting, dark and assertive. My wider hips are compensated for by the still-narrow waist, and my legs are long and elegant. Certainly, my husband's demonstrations of affection haven't lessened over the years. He likes to use silly Victorian expressions - "demonstrations of affection". He likes to tease me about how I can still get him hard with just a look. Straightening up, I adjust my stockings one last time, slip the robe over my shoulders and loosen my hair. The thick dark waves fall down my back. I've tweaked a couple of white hairs out of my hairline during the past year, but otherwise, I still look pretty good. I know James will think so, anyway. I gaze at myself questioningly - at the finished effect. I think I look gorgeous. Not as gorgeous as I did ten years ago, but still gorgeous. I know James will show his appreciation with immense and varied dedication..... But I wonder to myself if he'd really desire me as much if he didn't love me so deeply. Just how attractive am I these days? James sees me with the eyes of love, and I see myself through his eyes. But what would a stranger think? Would he see an overweight middle-aged woman? Past her best? Morbid thoughts. Christmas is a time for morbid thoughts - that's why the suicides, the family break-ups, the traditional ghost stories. Literally, I shake off my doubts.As I toss my head, my long hair shines and ripples under the candlelight. I love James, and he loves me. We have two precious little ones sleeping down the landing. At least in theory they're sleeping. I won't check, though. If they're not asleep, my appearance will trigger a whole new round of requests for drinks, stories, or teddy-retrieval. But we have love in this house, and I shouldn't doubt it. "Don't be silly, girl," I order silently. It's 12:45 now, and James will be up to do the stockings soon. Yes, I can hear his tread on the stairs; there's one that creaks. I blow out the candles. Now he tiptoes past the bathroom door, and I can hear him creeping along the corridor towards the boys' rooms. He must be round the corner by now. Santa Claus is coming to town. Sneaking the door open silently, with my slut-wife shoes clutched in one hand, I slip out of the bathroom and am down the stairs like a scarlet ghost before James can spot me. I'll be waiting in the living room for him. I grin to myself at the thought of his face when he sees me. He loves me dressed up. I creep into the living room. Deserted, as I hoped. There are no logs in our huge stone fireplace. There never are, these days, thanks to clean air regulations, but the gas fire is beautifully warm. Turning out all the other lights, but leaving the tree ones to sparkle multicolored on my flesh, I skip over to the hearth and lie down in front of the fire. We've got a couple of diehard old sheepskins inherited from my parents. The fleece is still thick and soft. A couple of cushions off the sofa make a comfy couch, and, slipping on my slut shoes, I snuggle down in Christmassy expectation. I'm all ready to surprise my own darling Santa on his return from a successful mission. The dark corners of the big high-ceilinged room are hung with evergreens, and the scent of tree and leaf fill the air with aromatics. It's so quiet.... So warm, so quiet - so blissfully peaceful. The only sounds are the whisper of the fire and the faintest patter of needles falling off the Christmas tree.... Blinking, I gaze at Santa. I must've dropped off. Hardly surprising: all that peeling and baking would wear out an Olympic athlete, not to mention wrapping two dozen stocking fillers.... Still, he's here now. And it is a good costume. In fact, it's a bloody good costume. Admittedly the light's poor, but his own mother wouldn't recognize him. James is Father Christmas to the life. I stretch and sit up, smiling. "Happy Christmas, darling. What did Daddy say when he caught Mummy kissing Santa?" OK, it's corny, but then I'm corny. I recline on the rug again, stretching like a cat to flaunt the opening in my panties. "Come here and try a taste of this," I invite. "Not bloody likely. Look what it's done to your knickers!" It's James's joke, but it's not James's voice. It's richer, fruitier, a touch of an accent. He's playing a game. He's going to stay in character. I always feel awkward playing a part, but I'll give it a go. "Have you got a present for a good little girl, Santa?" I breathe, all Marilyn Monroe. "Sure have, sweetie," he replies. "Come here and have a feel in my pockets." Clambering to my feet, I sashay over to him (can't not sway in these shoes) and wrap my arms around his waist. Not very far round, though. James must be wearing padding. OK, he's no longer slim (my cooking again, I'm afraid) but he's quite a bit slimmer than this. It really is a very good costume. The velvet is thick and luxurious. I slip a hand into his pocket as Santa leans down to kiss me. Our lips meet as I sink into his dear embrace. "HOLY SHIT! WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?" I'm electric with panic. This isn't James. No way is it James. For one thing, there's a difference between the perfectly honed kiss that comes from ten years of practice with the same person and the velvety expertise of a great kisser you never met before. For another, there is no pocket in Santa's suit. It just goes straight through to warm naked flesh - and there's a lot more flesh there than James has ever possessed. Loads. In a split second, I've realized I'm cuddling a strange man dressed as Father Christmas. A strange, very fat man dressed as Father Christmas. Where is James? Are the kids OK? Are they alive! What the fuck's going on? With a small shriek, I pull away, staring in horror at the stranger under my Christmas tree. He smiles at me like sunshine, his big brown eyes crinkling gloriously, his broad grin nearly hidden under his snowy mustache and beard, his white prawn eyebrows dancing. His smile is as sweet as a child's kiss, his eyes as full of fun as a baby's laughter. He has a lot of James about him - but he isn't James. On the other hand, surely this is no psychopath? Though aren't the worst ones supposed to laugh innocently as they fillet you? The stranger is having a weird effect on me. This old man's whole being floods merriment and sexual energy into the room, into my flesh. Half-fearful, half-delighted, I stand staring at him, tingling with excitement. "Happy Christmas, honey!" he carols, and chuckles. And as he chuckles, I hear the distant sound of jingling bells. "You've been such a good girl all year I thought I'd give us both a special treat." I am trying to remain stern. I am trying to remain worried. But such is the power of his merriment, the vibrancy of his shining eyes, that I feel myself soften. Soften and warm.... Warm? Bollocks. I'm getting hot. Mentally pulling my adult authority around me - not easy in a flame silk negligee - I square up to the intruder. "And who the hell are you? I warn you, my husband's upstairs, and we've got a top of the range security system. The police will be here in a couple of minutes." "I'm Santa Claus, sweet stuff," the old man replies. "As imperceptible to both husbands and security systems as pixy dust. Your babies are snug abed complete with the best stockings they've ever seen. And I'm here to bring tidings of comfort and joy, among other things..." His infectious, joyful grin contains an edge of mischief. "But you modern girls are such sceptics. Tell you what...." and he vanishes. For a moment, I stand, baffled, in an empty living room. Then I hear scrabbling and thuds behind me and, as I spin round, down our chimney pours an avalanche of chubby scarlet trimmed with black boots and white fur. Santa Claus springs to his feet in our empty grate (where's the gas fire gone?) and, dusting himself off, comes springing out onto the rug. Behind him, a huge log fire manifests in the fireplace, already in full blaze, crackling and filling the air with the scent of apple wood. The smile is even broader now, and the twinkling of his eyes puts the Christmas lights to shame. "Santa Claus at your service, ma'am!" he chuckles. "Or Father Christmas if you prefer. Some of my lady friends like the Father C bit - gives it that naughty incestuous edge!" and, roaring with merriment, he holds out his hands. I will not go to him though. Even if he is Father Christmas. And he is Father Christmas, I'm sure of that. For one thing, where did that all too real fire come from? For two, even the most skillful of burglars couldn't slip down our chimney. Not since we had it bricked up last summer.... This is magic. But magic or no, I am no adulteress. At least, not in the flesh. Dreams don't count. Not even that one about 12 Axel Roses and a double-decker bus. This big jolly stranger may be Father Christmas - he might be the man in the moon for all I care. Makes no difference, what matters is that he isn't James. Because I am married to James - and I plan to stay that way. I stand firm. "Ah, but it doesn't count, sweetheart," he chuckles. "What doesn't count?" I stare, nonplussed. "Goodness, angel!" he twinkles his eyebrows at me. "Frankly, for a writer, you don't have a lot of imagination," Santa teases. "Surely you should have worked out for yourself that I'd have to be able to read minds. How else could I fulfill the dreams of millions of little hearts? And surely you realize that this isn't happening in real time? Or perhaps you have a logical explanation as to how I visit so many precious children in one enchanted night? Let alone the refreshments I get through!" And he gives another fat chuckle. I know that voice, somehow, but I can't place it. I stand there with my mouth open. But I am an arm's length away from him, still uncertain. "My darling Christmas angel, I am Santa Claus - he of a million smoking chimneys. And hot sex with Santa Claus can't possibly count as real-time infidelity. After all, you never worried about being had up for sacrilege, did you?" I can feel myself blushing from my thighs up. All those wicked priest fantasies and me not even a Catholic. Even James doesn't know about those. It's all too shamefully true. I'm having to repress a hysterical desire to giggle. It would make novel graffiti, anyway: 'Father Christmas is a telepath!' "Come here, you scarlet woman," he urges. "No, I'm not trying to seduce you, silly creature. I just want you to see something. A little surprise I laid on for you. I know you'll like it!" "Come to the window," he coaxes. "I've got something to show you." In a dream, I float towards the curtains. My negligee flutters in the draught, but somehow I'm still toasty warm. Santa Claus waves a large hand, and the curtains are open. The scene before me makes me gasp with pleasure. I feel like a child. Anyone could set up the sleigh. At least anyone motivated enough to seduce me - and people have gone to extremes in the past. And the reindeer wouldn't be impossible. Difficult, but not impossible. What convinces me, what carries me right over the edge, is the snow.... This, after all, is the Home Counties - nearly London. Four inches provides a year to remember.... Snow, that is.But as far as the eye can see, my familiar landscape is covered in a thick, sparkling Disney coating. It's more than white. It's more than snow. It's pluperfect Technicolor dazzle. Artistic icicles hang from every conceivable horizontal. Scatters of luminous sparkle hang in the air. My Christmas dream. Santa Claus is humming "Walking in our Winter Wonderland" as I turn and slip into his arms. It's ages since I was this close to a fat man. And even he (naming no names) wasn't as fat as this. It's ever so cozy. Santa and I are snuggling on the hearth rug. We're doing some good old-fashioned Christmas necking. It's ages since I did this, too. Mouths - faces - in the dark, connecting - flexing, pouting. Lips parting, rippling, quivering... I run the tip of my tongue along the inside of his top lip, he tickles my palate with his... The beard's fun, too. I'm not used to beards. His mustache must be getting a bit damp though. Good thing it's real.... Play havoc with stage whiskers, I'll bet. We speak in tongues, sometimes playful, sometimes hot - demanding. He floods my mouth with warm saliva, pumping his narrowed rigid tongue tip in and out in tiny imitation of our imminent fuck. Obvious. But sexy..... I like obvious but sexy. My body is filled with the pleasure of his nearness. Jolly bugger sends out waves of festivity - or something..... I'm so enjoying just this kissing. James and I kiss, but not for hours. And it seems like hours, though I suppose time has been suspended. Of course, it's an additional kick that each time we part - for breath, to gaze into each other's eyes - the darkness between is hung with starry colored glitter, for all the world like cartoon magic dust. But I'm beginning to speculate about what 'next' will be like. Because next is going to be soon.... My breathing is chaotic. Santa's is deep and even. But not crisp. He's not rushing the pace. I'm so liquid, so lustful - it looks like I'm going to have to.... New styles for new people. Santa's too fat for what James and I usually do. I'll have to go on top. Putting a hand on each shoulder, I push him gently back. Lying on his belly, head by his heart, I push a hand into each of his pockets. Warm, soft hairy flesh inside. I'm moving my hands down and together, though my scope for maneuver is limited. "Holy fuck, Santa! What's that?" Stupid question. It feels a lot like the biggest cock I ever felt in my life. I can't get hold of it properly. Each hand can only just reach his shaft, huge and pulsing against my fingertips. I slide off him, sitting up, skidding to unbuckle that big silver buckle, wild with excitement. Strange to say, he's not laughing. Just a big, slow grin and those brown eyes full of glee... Wrench the black belt undone, unbutton those thick velvet trousers.... I'm unwrapping Santa. Both hands diving in, like a kid in a lucky dip. He grunts as he raises his mighty buttocks off the rug so I can pull his trousers off. Must've wriggled out of those boots while we were snogging. I wouldn't have noticed if the house had burned down. It's the biggest, most velvety, hardest gorgeous great dick I ever saw in all my wild life. "Oh, Father Christmas!" I breathe. "What a lovely surprise!" "I call him Rudolph," Santa Claus says modestly, and giggles. I'm one of nature's cock worshippers, so I can't help but suck it. Can't get the whole head in my mouth - impressive if frustrating - so confine myself to licking it, gripping it, hefting his huge balls in my hand. Dipping my head, I tongue the little dripping mouth, running my tongue-tip round the underside of the head, rasping the rough underside with the very edge of my bottom teeth. I twist down between his thighs, running my tongue up his taut scrotum. Peppermint. Warm furry candy. "And visions of sugar plums danced in her head," whispers Santa. It's a miracle. A weird, sexy miracle. I'm not rushing. After all, we have all the time in the world. I keep drawing back slightly to admire the sheer size of his beautiful cock. He's circumcised. That's a novelty, too. "I didn't know they went in for circumcision in the frozen north," I remark vaguely. Silly thing to say, really. It's not as if I know a lot about anything to do with the frozen north. "Don't tell me Father Christmas is Jewish!" I giggle. Then I get it, the full "Ho! Ho! Ho!" Every fold bounces with mirth. His cock bounces and swoops. His eyes crinkle and tears roll down his cheeks. I'm laughing too, though what at I'm not sure. All I know is a sense of total happiness. I cuddle and giggle. We rock and nestle until gradually the great rollicking chuckles subside. Wiping the tears from his eyes, he grins at me. "Honey, I'm American. And heavily influenced by Hollywood. Surely you've noticed the cartoon peripherals. Love 'em myself!" And he gestures to demonstrate the luminous spangles that follow his fingertips. "Pixy dust. Constant source of pleasure. And the elves. Reduced the workload - and the isolation. Oh yes, I'm largely American in my current manifestation. Invented by Coca-Cola. Thought a lady of your education would have all that at her fingertips." Now he mentions it, I do remember something about it. "Oh yes, the red outfit and all that," I say. "But aren't you our English Father Christmas - and Saint Nicholas too?" I feel him change. Just a little. There's still an immense warmth emanating from him, but now it is perhaps a fraction less cozy, a fraction more untamed. "Yes and no, darling..." At last I recognize the accent. He sounds exactly like James Stewart. It figures. Oh, yes, it figures. "I'm a Coca-Cola figurehead, and your own Father Christmas, and I'm Saint Nick who gave gold to poor girls to save them from prostitution. Nothing I hate more than commercialized sex. Sex needs freedom like wild swans need freedom. Sex is sacred to Santa Claus... Because though I may be a dozens myths in one, it helps to remember my first incarnation." "And what was that?" I ask, chastened. "The ancient green-coated wizard of the North who flew by night. The man of power. The life bringer. I'm a pagan. And I can be very pagan indeed..." He grips me in his huge velvet-covered arms and the world turns over. Suddenly weightless, I am high over him as he lifts me up across his belly and lowers me onto his cock head. I gasp and cry out as the smooth rounded heat stretches my cunt. His hands are on my shoulders, gently but inexorably bearing me down on what feels an impossibly large hard-on. An image of Egyptian priestesses riding the great stone phalluses by the Nile flicks across my mind's eye. It may feel impossible but it also feels incredible. I'm going to fuck this cock if it's the last thing I do. Doesn't seem likely to be the last thing I do, though. In fact, as he forces me down and I urge myself to open to its mighty breadth, it seems as if this is the first of a million things I might do. All things are possible. I am flushed with power, with dark green shoots of vitality. "Oh yes, give me your cock! Gimme it all!" I beg. Either I am slighter or he has grown. He seems seven feet tall as he gazes up between my braced thighs. Riding his broad belly stretches me like riding a horse, and his huge, hot cock pillar feels like a tree within me - a python, twisting and growing, hot and flowering. Flexing my thighs and calves, digging in with my heels, I jam myself down on him with a fury. I feel impossibly full, but the stretching is making me come. God, it's making me come... The muscles deep in my cunt ripple sideways across his shaft, stretching, gripping, appreciating his godhead. My breath is deep and quiet as moonlight, my cries are far away. My back arches, the muscles in my belly ripple and shift. I can feel my hot juice all over his balls and under my arse. I have reached a stage where orgasms pump cumjuice out of me like water, where my breasts harden and my nipples ache with arousal. Which he has noticed, and with one bound they are free. Very slick, the way he pushes both hands quickly up close to my ribcage from beneath, toppling my swollen gleaming breasts out of my bra cups in one deft motion. My nipples rage out in front, big crimson raspberries of excitement. He has both in one hand, while a sideways thumb slips down to press against my soaking mound where the root of my twanging clitoris is sealed against his cock and belly. His palm and fingers are clenching, jerking, hard yet just right, on my nipples. I feel the rush down to my clit, where his thumb exerts a pressure that is making me buck and scream. Just when I thought I couldn't come any harder, I am avalanching sensation. My cunt beats like a heart, holds him in a death grip. Heat consumes us, my eyes are screwed up, I pant like a dog. I am possessed as orgasm shakes me over and over again. In a moment of white-heat clarity, my face unravels and our eyes meet. His are now as green as glass, as wild as wolves, as loving as a mother's heart. He grips my hips and arches up as I ram myself down with all my tenacity. I feel his cock in my head now, I feel my pleasure in my bones. I shove my own hands under my breasts, jutting them out more. "I've got the whole length now. It's right up there. Every last fuckin' inch. Now you can really give it me. Go on, give it me!" His size doesn't hinder his movements. He has me safe and tight against his huge chest and flips us over in an instant. I am flat on my back with my ankles round his ears. I'm right, he has got bigger, though he'll not crush me. His beard flows over my breasts, gentle on my hot skin. Vaguely I notice he still has half his clothes on. So do I. Not that it's any handicap.... And then he takes all his weight - and mine - off the floor and rocks us both deeper together. There is no strain, just an easy opening of my liquid pelvis wider than I dreamed possible. How can so much go so deep - feel so immensely good?He starts to fuck me, hard and deep. All my force and skill fly up to join him. His strokes are controlled but growing steadily more assertive, more insistent. I love that moment when the control goes. It has to be my favorite moment in the world. And it's coming, it's coming.... "Yes! Fuck, yes. Oh yes! Please, oh please! All the way. All the way..." I am urging him to give way, and he is teetering on the precipice and he is lunging that long, smooth, incredible stroke that breaks control and his cock slides into me faster and faster until, in the most beautiful, exquisite way, the force takes on a life of its own and slams to a beat that pumps repetitively, unmistakably, savagely.... Christmas is coming.... Oh yes, Christmas is coming. I lose myself in that endless drenching moment but I swear that in that fleeting mystery his red velvet shoulder turned to green.... We are wrapped in each other's arms. My eyes are closed, happy tears on my face. Say what you like about muscles and so forth, fat men are so deliciously cuddly. So warm. My heart is full of candlelight. I feel newborn. I have never felt so marvelous. I could do anything. At least I could probably do anything in a little while, after we've had this nice cuddle..... "I've got to go, sweet," he whispers tenderly and kisses my forehead. Regret and love breathe in his words. "So many stockings and pillowcases to fill, so many dreams to fulfill... So many snacks to consume..." The giggle is returning to his voice. "Of course you do." I am returning to my own self too. No small child shall be deprived for my wild Christmas Eve. I cannot ask him to stay. But I am not sure what to say.... How to part. The fire he created is embers now. He stands and is immaculately dressed in a second. Yet another plus point of magic I think, with some amusement. A handy trick. Very handy. Specially on school mornings. Ah well, we mortals must accept our limitations.... I am still half-sprawled on the hearth rug, drenched in sex, stockings askew. Heaven only knows what my makeup looks like now. But then, who cares? He smiles down at me, wrapping me in loving kindness. "Happy Christmas, my good girl," he grins. "Though precisely whether you're naughty or nice is quite beyond me!" Laughing, he steps into the fireplace. The fire roars up around him and glossy green leaves surround his wild, joyful face. "Happy Christmas!" he roars, huge, radiant and suddenly majestic. "Why, you're the Green Man, too!" I cry. "Knew it would come back to you eventually!" he thunders, his triangular grin splitting his beard. And the laughter grows and the flames blossom and he is gone.... Just a ripple of laughter and a distant jingling. "Wake up, sweetheart. The kids'll be up in a minute!" I am being jiggled. "Where.. What?" I am on the hearthrug. My body tells me it's early morning. James is rocking me gently, his face creased with affection and sleep. I grab my senses round me urgently. What's happening? Who's here? What've I done? We are cuddled together in front of the gas fire. It's so warm and stuffy we must've been here all night. My Christmas lingerie is rumpled, sweaty, stained. My hair is damp. A creased Santa Claus suit, including beard, lies in a pile under the tree. James is naked, his sweet self. So we gather up all the evidence and creep up to our chilly bedroom to set all to rights before the excited squeaks of children make the dawn chorus of our Christmas morning. Once decent in Daddy-type pajamas, James sneaks down to make us both coffee. Grabbing the necessary bits, I whisk silently into the bathroom and turn on the shower. I've got to move fast to remove my smeared makeup and swap my sexy rags for a cheery floor-length tartan nightdress. Want to be in bed like something out of Little House on the Prairie when the kids rush through to show off their surprises. But first I catch my own eye in the mirror and give myself a long slow appraising look. Dear, sweet Father Christmas. Pagan sex god maybe, but also kindly old gentleman. He's given me an out, a little unspoken message. "You don't need to feel guilty. After all, 'twas but a dream." Was it fuck! He can set the scene all he likes but he's forgotten to remove the fairy dust that permeates the silk of my wrap and still sparkles on my breasts. He's also forgotten that good old joke, which I now know to be plain - and sticky - fact. "Christmas comes but once a year. But when he does he fills your stockings!" It'll have to be a very long hot shower. Grinning, I start my day.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/17922.txt

LeAnna

Milady

"That's good, Dalara. Would you massage my feet, please, honey?" My Lady sighed and held a hand up to her head. Her almond-shaped chocolate eyes fluttered shut as she sighed in exhaustion. She tilted her head back, her jaw forming a perfect triangle of creamy brown skin set atop a bejeweled, graceful swan neck as she gulped her drink, barely wincing with the sting of the liquor. The air was laced with the heavy scent of perfumes and incenses, yet not crassly so. The gentle glow of candles danced across my Lady's skin, caressing and holding her to darkness' bosom. I watched, entranced, as her neck muscles contracted when she swallowed. It was a beautiful sight to me. I nodded and murmured "Yes, Milady," hurrying over to the rich oak bar and pouring sinuous liquid into a tall glass, watching carefully as it sloshed down the smooth sides, listening to the tinkling resonance it made. It was a quiet day, and other than the plinking of the liquor, the only sound was the marching of feet outside the door and the chirping of insects outside the window. I pulled the bottle up when it reached halfway and lifted another carafe of alcohol, mixing it in. I then picked up yet another bottle of thick fruity syrup, letting it cascade in a thick, sticky stream. I stirred the concoction and hurried back to my Lady. She took it from me hungrily, pouring most of it down her throat with a single gulp and setting it aside on her table along with a growing pile of glasses. She shifted on her vibrantly decorated silk-lined bed and offered her feet to me. I dropped to my knees and lifted her dress, pushing it up past her delicate ankles. My breath caught in my throat and my heart pounded as I caught a view of her long, shapely legs disappearing into the silky swaths of her dress, like a view of trees so tall that they seemed to go forever into the clouds. Even after years of seeing my Lady in all her nude glory, I still had to force myself to swallow my desire. I was a servant. She was a Lady. My desire had no place here. She shifted her legs, her dainty toes stretching. "I know I shouldn't be running about bare-legged around here, Dalara, but I know I can trust you. We're both women. These men think they have an iron grip on me. They _wish_ they had an iron grip on me. The things they don't know, Dalara, the things they don't know." "You can trust me, Milady." I spoke softly and smoothly, my voice lilting in nurturing musical tones. My Lady found it soothing when I spoke as if I were about to sing. Although she loved my voice and had privately commented to me that she thought I sang better than any of them, she rarely asked me to, because she had her own royal singers of fine, noble blood. I put my hands firmly on her feet, being careful not to tickle her, or caress her luscious skin, or to run my fingertips along her leg. I wanted to lean down and rest my cheek against the smooth surface of her leg, to taste the skin that had thrilled me for years from afar. Her feet were delicate and fine-boned, the underside of her foot a light shade of cream in contrast with the chocolate of the rest of her body. A mole rested on the skin right underneath and between her little and middle toes. I had admired it innumerable times. It was in exactly the right place to make her alluring and mysterious. My Lady arched her feet into my hands as I kneaded her flesh. Her bones gave way under my skillful ministrations, crackling like a blazing fire. She moaned. "Ahhhh... that feels so relaxing, Dalara. You have been trained well." "Thank you, Milady." I switched feet, tugging and pushing at her flesh, easing her sore muscles, her weary tendons. It seemed, from the tightness, that she'd done more standing and walking today than she was used to. I briefly wondered what had happened. My fingertip brushed her ankle, and I froze, afraid she'd take it the wrong way. "Continue, Dalara. Please massage my calves. I did quite a bit of standing today, deliberating with the Lord's court." "As you wish, Milady." I trembled and shook inside, my stomach a quivering mass of butterflies. I slid my hands up her calf. Oh, her muscles! Yielding yet firm under my touch. Her warm skin tones of brown were the same appealing shade of chocolate. In the flickering lamplight, shadows danced across her muscles. I had to fight myself not to caress her as I kneaded her tight knots. It was tempting, though -- too tempting. I could barely resist. I was convinced, at that moment, that she knew what she was doing to me. "You, of course, know why I was in attendance of the Lord and his court today." "I do not know why you were at the court, Milady." I'd wondered where she was. The guards had come to get her much earlier than usual today, much earlier than the start of the usual parties that she hosted late into the night. Her voice cracked. "They want to execute me, Dalara." Her foot almost slipped out between my fingers, and my heart sank. My Lady. I didn't want to show my surprise and grief, so I quickly ducked my head down, gazing at her smooth, shiny legs as I massaged them. They glinted and shone beautifully in the hundreds of flickering candles that illuminated the room, and then blurred as I blinked back tears. She laughed wryly, furiously blinking her eyes, turning her head. I looked into her drunken eyes for a fleeting second before diverting my gaze again. I should have seen it coming. It was feasible that deep inside, I had known, and turned a blind eye to it. She'd been the Lady for five years, and still hadn't produced an heir. I had seen it happen twice before -- my Lady in attendance would be the third that the Lord had ordered executed. "Dalara, most Ladies would be ashamed of themselves, would be honored to kneel at her Lord's feet and apologize for not being able to bear the Lord's child, honored to grovel as he brings the halberd down onto her neck." "It isn't your fault, Milady. It suggests to me, since you are the third wife that this has happened to, that it is rather his fault for not being able to bear children." The words slipped out before I knew it, and I flushed, hoping I hadn't stepped out of line. "Yes, Dalara. That's what I was thinking. It hurts his pride. This is his way of trying to heal the wound. Divorce is wrong, Dalara, so the Lord fixes that problem by killing his wife. One sin in exchange for another." Her face was tightly drawn, her lips trembling as she let each word slip from the mental prison they'd been held in. Despite her ill-controlled rage, she loosened up as I released the tension from her muscles. My trembling hands slipped and grazed her knee. She noticed. "I'm glad you care, Dalara." She shifted, trying to give me more room to work with. She pulled her skirt up higher for me, and then gave up with a sigh. "Dalara, please undress me. I am uncomfortable." "As you wish, ma'am." I got up, leaning over her to slip off her clothing. It was not an easy task with the layers of fine red and gold fabric that surrounded her and engulfed her in its richness. I peeled off layer after layer, and she sat wordlessly, her face sad yet proud, her chin still lifted high in the air. Her eyes had a faraway look in them, and she murmured almost to herself, "I should be terrified. But I'm not." She took another drink from her nearly empty glass. Oh, the richness. Her supple, round body, bare before my eyes, her long legs shifting and her thighs rubbing together, joined by a dark patch of hair at their apex. An unmistakable aroma wafted from her genitals, blending with the scents of smoky incense and liquor that permeated the room. I blushed, my own genitals heating with arousal at the redolence. She seemed not to notice, but I knew from my training that she most likely did. "All this because I can't give him a heir. All I am is a heir producer." The sentence was sudden and seemed to betray the melancholy silence of the chamber. "It isn't fair, Milady," I murmured in assent, unbuttoning her blouse slowly and surely. She rose up off of the pillows and lifted her arms so I could remove her shirt.She settled back down on the pillows, completely nude. I carefully folded my Lady's blouse. The silky fabric felt like liquid kissing my hands, and I stared at it, coveting it, wanting it. But when I glanced at my Lady, I forgot about the blouse. I coveted and wanted nothing more than her. She was certainly the fairest in the land, with her long hair that was as black as the night sky. Her eyes were deep and brown, and shone like the stars, glittering and twinkling. Her perfect breasts were crescents rising from her chest, stiff nubs rising from her breasts. The Lord didn't deserve this beauty. "Am I womanly, Dalara? Am I woman enough to suit you, but not woman enough to suit my Lord?" she asked. "You're all woman, Milady," I murmured, diverting my eyes away. My face deepened with a hot flush, and I hurriedly went to massage her calves again. "I'm not woman, Dalara. I'm not woman enough to make a baby," she said. "Don't think that, Milady," I protested, this time looking straight into her eyes, my eyes darting about her delicate face. "To me, you're all woman. You're the fairest in the land, Milady. You mustn't let the Lord make you feel this way." "Show me, Dalara. I trust you have been trained well in the sexual arts," she said. "Yes, I have been, ma'am," I struggled to get the words out, my spirit caught in my throat, my pulse pounding in my ears. I felt as if my heart would burst with excitement. I started to bend between her legs, climbing over the edge of the bed and coming closer to her. "No, Dalara. Take your clothing off, please." Her voice was breathy. I stood and pulled off my simple dress, the cold air creeping in to meet me as I exposed myself to my Lady. Her eyes widened in approval as her lips parted. "Ah, beautiful, Dalara." She reached out her hand. "Let me touch you." I obliged her, nearly stumbling over my own feet as I came to her. She tickled her fingertips against my shoulder, and ran her fingers down the front of my body. My skin prickled as she touched my chest, my breasts. Her hand dallied a moment to cup a single breast, squeezing my nipple. I stood with weak knees, watching her expression merge from pleased, to arousal, and back to pleased again. Her fingernails were long and hard, her fingertips round and smooth. She scratched along my belly, her touch soothing my skin. She played with my pubic hair, tickling my mound. I closed my eyes and nearly let my body sway with the sensation. She slipped a long finger between my puffy lips. "You're wet, Dalara," she noted, her eyebrows raised, a sly grin on her full, carmine lips. Indeed, I was wet. Her finger moved along the tip of my inner lips, more and more of my nectar collecting on her fingertip with every calculated stroke. My knees shook and trembled. Her finger brushed my clit. A moan escaped from between my lips. She drew her finger away, and slipped it into her mouth, forming an O around it with her lips. She sucked my nectar off hungrily, and I watched her, my mouth agape. I swallowed hard. I wanted her so badly now. She could see the fire set ablaze in my eyes as she licked and sucked her finger. "Mmmm. Tastes good, Dalara. I'd like you to do that to me." "Yes, Milady." I couldn't get on the bed and between her legs fast enough. I slipped my hand up her thigh gingerly, afraid of moving too fast. My touch was tender as I crept closer and closer. "Don't be afraid, honey. Touch me." Her voice was soothing. I kissed her thigh and ran my finger along the valley of her lips. It was well lubricated with her juices, slippery and smooth. I could smell her hot, quivering excitement. She shifted her legs, pulling her thighs further apart and thrusting herself toward me, encouraging me. I moved my kiss closer to the joining of her legs. The scent grew stronger, flooding my senses with its heady aroma. My mouth watered. I could almost taste her slick elixir. My finger, no longer teasing and hesitant, delved between her lips and rimmed around her hole. Gently, I pushed the very tip of my finger inside, and her wet flesh caught and contracted around me. I gasped, and kissed the top of her leg, moving closer to the gold mine. I spread her lips apart and the tip of my lips found her hot dampness, kissing her, smearing her juice along my lips. I opened my mouth and took an inflamed lip between my teeth, licking at it. My finger sank deeper inside her. She pushed her hips at me, her gasp audible when I wrapped my lips around her clit and sucked. Her slick walls closed in around my finger, hungry for me, drawing me in. I opened my mouth and relaxed my tongue against her clit, letting my soft flesh massage her. Up, down, side to side, I licked her. She was delicious, sweet yet tart. I could feast forever, but by the bucking motion of her hips, it wasn't to be much longer. I nearly lost myself when I thought about her flame of a life, soon to be smutted out. So I reveled in the taste and motion while I could, clinging to the last remaining fragment of my Lady. "Oh, Dalara, oh, oh..." she moaned, her head whipping back and forth. Her toes clenched and pulled at the bed sheets, her legs rising up and down. Her moist bosom heaved in time with her pants and grunts. I made my motions more rhythmic, more stressed. Her hands flew out and clutched my head, her sweaty fingers gripping my hair, pressing me harder against her. The doorknob clicked and turned. The door swung open, and the Lord stood in the doorway, the royal guards dressed in bright, silver armor flanking him. My Lady's head snapped to the side to look at them. I moved away from her on instinct, my thoughts reeling, and she held my head tight, not letting me go. I dared not move, so I stayed at her behest, trembling on all fours, my face buried between her legs. Her face was stony, her eyes ice, her mouth set in a hard line. "I will call for you when I am ready," she said in a low, threatening tone. "It is time to go," the Lord stated, not seeming surprised, though he did his best to unsuccessfully cover a growing flush. He straightened up, tall and regal, and glowered at my Lady. She stared angrily at him, unrelenting, unafraid. "I am still your Lady until I meet my death. I will call for you." The Lord's face grew furious at her defiance, but he did not say anything. He waved the guards away, and they marched off in a cadence. "I will stand here and wait for you to finish." Her voice did not waver. "You will not. Goodbye." He stood, shifting from foot to foot, an uncomfortable look on his face. Finally, he turned, slamming the door behind him. She turned her attention to me, and her fingers relaxed. "Continue, darling." I struggled to regain my composure, and got back into the rhythm, relaxing my tongue once again against her clit. Inside, I quaked with feverish anxiety, but her arousal had hardly swayed with the interruption. I made my tongue rigid and slipped it between her lips, where the delicious flavor was strongest. She groaned and pressed herself against me. I rubbed my teeth against her clit, using the pressure of her fingers on my head and the bucking of her hips to find her personal rhythm. I ran my tongue up and down, up and down, along her slit, savoring the taste. My tongue found her clit again, and worked on it on a maddening rhythm, my own body responding unbearably to her arousal. Harder and harder, faster and faster, I worked, sensing that her orgasm was barreling toward her like an untamed horse. Finally, a long, strung-out wail filled the room as she shouted her pleasure. The tendons of her legs stood out as her body lifted off of the bed, convulsing in orgasm again and again. New, fresh taste flooded my senses as I fought to keep her orgasm sustained. Her wail turned into frantic "oh!"s with every beat my tongue made, and finally, her hips relaxed down, inch by inch, trembling. Her intermittent "oh"s had turned into a long, lazy moan of pure, golden pleasure. Every muscle in her body relaxed, and I continued to lick her, ever so gentle, lapping up her juices and softly - softly! - massaging her clit, easing her back to Earth. Her eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, her forehead beaded with sweat. "My god." She lay there for a few moments, absorbing the after-orgasm before she lifted her head to look at me. "Dalara. Come here. Press your body against mine." I did so, lifting my cum-covered face from between her legs. I lay down on top of her, feeling her stiff nipples brush against my own breasts. The feeling of her open legs yielding wet warmth, smearing it on my stomach, caused me to squirm in delight, and I rubbed my stomach along her, biting my lip. I thrust my sex up to smear her liquid on my mound. She pulled me forward to kiss me, her lips traveling around my face, tasting her own cum. My chin. My forehead. My cheeks. Finally, my lips, her tongue exploring my mouth, running along my teeth. The door opened once again. The Lord standing in the doorway, once again with his guards to his sides. "From the noise, I assume you are done," he stated flatly. "You may get dressed now." She gazed at him, her face a mask of hatred. She'd loved him once, I knew. This was unforgivable to her. I scurried over to where I had set her clothes, and dressed her with care. I spied a guard's stoic face soften into hunger as his eyes traveled along my nude form. I returned his gaze, mine laced with the bitter taste of hatred even as I shivered with fear. My Lady was peerless in her beauty, her face flushed, the fire of vitality still in her eyes. She was dressed in her finest robes. A fine attire to die in. She caught my hand as I backed away respectfully, and pulled me close, kissing me again, spiting and scorning her Lord.I looked on, a tear surfacing in my eye, as my Lady swept away, her head held high and her eyes filled with pride. Do you know the warm progress under the stars? Do you know we exist? Have you forgotten the keys to the Kingdom? Have you been born yet and are you alive?

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11508.txt

Assmaster McStuff

The Clandestine Meeting: McStuff #4 (MF romance)

"Hollis, it's me. Unlock the bolt, then sit on the bed and face away from the door." I wait to hear the latch, and then enter. She is sitting on the edge of the bed as requested, naked -- her back a bit too straight. She is tense. It is good to put a body on a memory. I enjoy my renewed sight of her in the flesh and marvel at the curves and planes. We will reveal ourselves this evening. "Hollis, remember not to turn around," I say as I sit on the bed behind her. She feels the weight of my body and wonders what she's doing here. "Don't be nervous Hollis. I'm here tonight only for you -- I want to make you smile and laugh and climax." She likes the feel of my breath on her shoulder. "It's hard not to turn around, isn't it Hollis? Do you want to hear a silly joke?" She nods -- What in the world is this guy thinking? "What do men and floor tiles have in common, Hollis?" I wait, but she doesn't respond, so I answer: "If you lay them right you can walk all over them." She reaches around to swat me and says "I've heard that before! That's not sexy!" "No, but this is. Put it on." In her lap is a black velvet blindfold. She is nervous again and fumbles a bit while tying the straps behind her head and I help her secure them tightly. "Hollis, can you see anything?" "No," she says, truthfully. "Good. Remember that I'm here tonight to make you feel good. I might tease you a little, but only gently. I'm not going to tie you up, so if I tell you to do something that just doesn't turn you on, you can always refuse. But I don't think you will. There is a line in a song I like: 'You're soft as glass and I'm a gentle man / we got the sky to talk about and all the world to lie upon.' Hollis, we're going to travel tonight. Are you ready?" She nods -- the words won't come. "Now why don't you stand up Hollis. I want to look at you." She stands next to the bed -- she is still a bit unsure of this. She hears a flick -- is that a light switch? "Yes Hollis, I want all of the lights on. I want to fix you forever in my mind." It is a shame that the top half of her face is covered by the blindfold. But her lips are beautiful and look like they're built to -- no, I will not get carried away with my thoughts. I want to restrain myself for now. She jumps as I press my lips against hers, a kiss: soft, slow, moist, no tongue. Mmm.....And now I can see that I will have trouble holding myself back. This time I hold her head, gently, and kiss her again. She thinks she tastes strawberries on my mouth -- but she knows her imagination sometimes overheats and she's too embarrassed to ask. "Hollis," I whisper. Quietly. "Hollis, if this were a different night I would ask you to wrap your lips around my sex. I would make love to your beautiful mouth until I filled it with my seed. But that's not what I'm after tonight....." I step back a bit. "Hollis, I want to look at you. Cup your breasts for me." Oh...... now this is a turn on...... her breasts spill over her hands and beg for attention. "Caress them a bit Hollis. I want to see you move." Awkwardly, at first, her hands slide around and over her breasts and she lets out a little gasp as she feels my mouth just to the side of her left nipple. I trace a lazy circle with my tongue -- around and around the nipple -- never quite reaching it. Then the right breast.... down to her stomach.... out to her shoulder.... my mouth goes marking...... This is too much! she thinks. When is he going to -- oh! as my lip slips over her taut nipple and give it a little bite. Her nipple grows even tighter as I suck it into my mouth..... and she feels a small tingle elsewhere in her body..... more on this later...... I stand up after kissing the other breast, and she can feel my whisper in her ear as much as hear it. Quietly: "Hollis, if this were a different night I would ask you to press your beautiful breasts together as I made love to them with my cock. I would stroke your breasts until I came on your beautiful nipples. But that's not what I'm after tonight....." I kiss her mouth again; this time she can taste a bit of herself on my lips. "Hollis, turn around. I want to look at your ass. Mmm..... Hollis, that's a sweet ass." She can hear me kneel, and she moans as she feels the tip of my tongue trace tiny crosses on her cheeks. "Hollis, why don't you bend over and open yourself up for me? That's good." I do not move, and she blushes as she stands in front of me exposed in such fashion. We are both remembering a certain pair of blue satin panties. She can feel my gaze. Why is he taking so long? she thinks, and moans as she feels my lips making a gentle ring to match hers.........and moans again as my tongue presses past her ring and into her body. God, his tongue is long she thinks as she leans back into my face. She hears me stand and feels my breath again near her face. "Hollis, if this were a different night I would ask you to spread your cheeks for me while I stretched your beautiful ass to fit me. I would enter you there and flood you with my cum. But that's not what I'm after tonight...... Why don't you turn around and face me, lover." She moves to my kiss on her neck, and jumps as she feels my hand between her legs, very high on her thigh, but not quite -- "Ahhh this.... this, Hollis. This is what I'm after tonight." She is wet now. And squirming. And surprised. Surprised at how little she really wants to be teased. But I have yet to touch her most secret place. My hand rests heavily on her thigh, and her scent drifts up and speaks to us both: Oh can't he just -- won't he just -- "Lie down on the bed Hollis. I want to hold you and whisper to you." I lie down next to her and she thinks he is so much bigger than me...... I curl up next to her and place a hand on her arm, gently. "Hollis, do you like poetry? Of course you do." Quietly. She almost cannot hear my whisper. "I want to share with you a poem I read in a book long ago and learned for just such an occasion. Do not worry about what it means. Just listen to the sounds:" And this is what she hears as we lie together, touching only at hand and shoulder, all static and tension and anticipation: He ido marcando con cruces de fuego el atlas blanco de tu cuerpo. Mi boca era una arana que cruzaba escondiendose. En ti, detras ti, temerosa, sedienta. And now she feels my lips touch her ear and something -- warm -- brush against her thigh. I continue: Historias que contarte a la orilla del crepusculo, muneca triste y dulce, para que no estuvieras triste. Un cisne, un arbol, algo lejano y alegre. El tiempo de las uvas, el tiempo maduro y frutal. "Open your legs for me lover." I rest my hand low on her abdomen. Very still. So close. Here is what I said: I have gone marking the atlas of your body with crosses of fire. My mouth went across: a spider, trying to hide. In you, behind you, timid, driven by thirst. She feels my hand move away from her abdomen. Stories to tell you on the shore of evening, sad and gentle doll, so that you should not be sad. A swan, a tree, something far away and happy.The season of grapes, the ripe and fruitful season. And with the word "season," she gasps as something cold, hard, and very slender slips into her sex. Mmmmmm...... she squeezes her legs together and squirms. "No, Hollis. Open your legs for me. I want to see your beauty." She feels the object slip a bit deeper into her... not far, and not roughly. It is very cold, but warming rapidly. "Do you know what it is, Hollis?" "M- metal," is what she manages to say. "Hollis, I didn't know you stuttered." And just as quickly, the object is withdrawn. "Open your mouth for me, lover." She does. She laughs out loud as she tastes a cool strawberry on a now well-warmed spoon. She thinks: So that was what I tasted on his mouth! She can smell her scent on the slender handle of the spoon as she enjoys the fruit. And she moans as I press my lips against hers and press the strawberry deeper into her mouth with my tongue. "Lover, will you hold the spoon for me? I want to free my hands." She takes the spoon in her hand and grips it tightly; it is warm and slick and a reminder. She feels me shift on the bed and gasps as the soft skin of my sex brushes against her lips. "No, baby, close your mouth. I won't take you there tonight. I just want to caress your face with my cock." The lightest brush of skin on skin -- her face is burning, and she has been marked. The head of my sex brushes her temple and rasps lightly across the velvet of the blindfold. And just like that, it's gone. She feels my weight between her legs and gasps again as something -- not very large -- parts her sex. She grips the spoon tightly in her hand. "What do you feel now, Hollis?" "Plastic," she says. "Very good. Tell me what it is, lover." She is silent, and presses her hips against this small intruder. Mmmmm...... she wants to be a bit more filled than this......... "Don't lose me, Hollis. Tell me what it is." Her mind races, and she reaches for the right word........ just as she says "a nozzle?" she jumps and feels a thick liquid squeezed into her sex. Mmmmmm...... more. And just like that -- the object is withdrawn. "Put down the spoon, Hollis, and hold this. I am going to go marking." She takes the container in her hand and touches it to her lips -- a bottle of honey, of course. And I can no longer wait. I press my mouth softly against her beautiful sex and drink my fill of her and make love to her with my mouth. Oh -- how wet she is! And how ready I am to give her pleasure. My tongue swirls around and into her sex and kisses her clit and presses into her again. And again. Swirl and kiss and -- Oh god, please don't stop now! I weigh it in my head -- to tease her more or to help her arrive...... ...but tonight is about her pleasure, and I press my lips to her sex again. She has forgotten that I asked her to hold the bottle of honey, and she drops it to hold my hair in her hands. We have waited for this, and now it is oh this, yes there, and oh that, yes here, oh, and she is closer, and I can feel her tension, and mmm......... I slow the movements of my tongue as her sex squeezes around me, and she can see through her blindfold up through the ceiling to the stars in the sky, and they are all yelling in unison: "Cum, Hollis, cum," and she is there.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/10726.txt

MIKE HUNT

The O'Stikkit Inn

"Thanks, hon, but I don't think so," I replied. "In fact, I think I'm going back to the room for some more beers. I'll just be a minute. Go on, dance with John. Really, I'll be right back." We still had one beer left, but I deftly slid it under the chair as I got up. I turned quickly as I stood so they wouldn't see my hard-on, which was now pushing mightily against the fabric of my shorts. I walked directly away from them, and around the corner. I pushed open the door. Ding-CLANG-ding went the bell. But I didn't go through. Instead, I stayed inside and let the door close. Ding-CLANG-ding it went as the automatic closer pulled the door shut. I was still inside. I crept into the shadows. I wished I were nearer to them, but I had a decent enough view. "So let's dance," she said to him. June jumped into the water, and fairly slid herself up against him. At least she tried to, but for some strange reason, her pelvis couldn't get close to his. "My god," she said. "Sorry," he replied. "Force of nature." "No need to be sorry," she said. "But nothing can happen here. You know. He's coming right back." "I know. But I'd still like to dance this dance with you." I saw him reach down and push his dick out of the way. At least I assume it was his dick he was pushing. What else? He apparently had pushed his hard-on right between her legs; there was no where else he could have been hiding it! Then he pulled her to him, and she melted into his arms. Before I knew it they were dancing, up to their hips in the water. I saw her grab his shoulders and wrap her legs around his hips. He was carrying her around as she bounced against his mid-section. "Boy you sure to make it hard," he said. "Tough, I mean." They both laughed. "Come over here." He walked to the edge of the pool, and then began walking up the inclined bottom until she was at the edge at the perfect height. She still hung on him, and felt him set her in a sitting position on the pool edge while he stood in the water. She unclasped her legs from around him, and slowly hooked her heels on the edge of the pool. Her pussy and his dick were now bouncing against each other as they swayed slowly in time with the music. I reached down and squeezed my dick through my shorts. I watched with wonder as he bent down and kissed her full on the lips. I was not surprised when she returned his kiss; hell, I'd have been shocked if she hadn't. Then she broke away and said "We shouldn't. And he'll be back any minute." "Don't worry. We'll hear the bell. No sweat. Come on..." And he kissed her again. He reached up and cupped her tits. Now I know those tits, and when June get excited, those nipples get as hard as buttons. I knew they were at this moment. He reached around and started to unclasp the bra in the back, but she stopped him. "No!" she fairly screamed. "No. He's coming back. When the bell rings, that's it." Of course she didn't know that the bell wouldn't ring, because I was already inside the door. Then she surprised him by reaching up and pulling him down for another passionate kiss. His hands reached for her breasts again, and I could see him gently massaging them in his big hands. June's hands weren't idle, either. I saw her reach into his crotch, and although my angle didn't give me a direct view, I could tell she was feeling his hardness in her hand through his boxer shorts. From the funny angle of her elbow and her next movements, I knew that she was snaking her hand into the flap in the front of the pants to grasp his penis directly. "My god," she exclaimed, "You're..." She stopped. She was listening. "Just so we understand. When the bell rings, you're gone. You dive back in the water. Under water. Somewhere. Anywhere but standing here in front of me with your, uh, you know, here in my hand." She could have convinced him to do anything at that moment. "Sure sure," he said, continuing to grab at her tits. Her hand was obviously at work, extracting his swollen member from the front of his pants. Then her other hand went to her own crotch, and I could tell she was pulling the panties to one side. As they again kissed, I saw his tongue lick against hers, and I could tell she was rubbing the head of his dick around on her cunt lips. Then she aimed it, and then I knew by her grunting that she had located it directly at her portal of sex. That is one great thing about June. She's vocal when it comes to her pleasure. She's not afraid to make noise, and knows it's a turn-on for me. She also likes to talk dirty, or at least use dirty words when we're making love. She also cums quite easily, often requiring only a few minutes of warm-up. One thing that really pisses me off, though, is that she can come several times. I'm only good for once, then I need a half-hour cool-down period. After she comes, she can be right back at it, and another 4 or 5 minutes later will be popping her cookies again. It's just not fair. Anyway, I knew that he was entering her just by her noises. Her "Oh oh oh" and her "uh uh" and her "oh yes" told me everything I needed to know. He was fucking her, and fucking her good. Even though I was enjoying this, and by now had my own hand inside my jockey shorts, I thought I'd better do something quickly. I figured he'd try to blow his load as quickly as possible, thinking that at any moment I'd be likely to come barging through the door and he'd have to pull out and pretend everything was fine. I crept forward in the shadows until I was just 20 feet from them. I was directly behind her, which meant that he would have been looking straight at me - if he had had his eyes open. He didn't. I took another two steps forward. Suddenly his eyes opened and he saw me. He dropped his hands from her breasts, stopped pumping, and froze. I put my finger to my lips, as if to say "Shhhhh." He seemed to understand. He relaxed.I took another several steps forward. I made the "Shhhh" gesture again. He wasn't in any hurry now. She let out a low moan. I stepped another few feet closer, until I could almost have reached out and touched her. I bent down and whispered, "I'm baaacckk," in my best Poltergeist imitation. She screamed as though I had stuck her with a fork. If she had been standing, she would have jumped about 6 feet. She was freaked out. She recovered, kind of. "We were just, ah, dancing, and ah," I thought to myself, "Dancing, yeah, pole dancing, maybe." I said, "Sure, I know. Sorry guys, no beer. We're out." I waited a beat. "Jeez, hon, what's with you? You look like you've seen a ghost." She twisted her head to look up at me, as guilty as hell. Of course, I knew that she was sitting there with this guy's dick in her snatch up to the hilt. But she didn't know I knew. And from my angle behind her, I couldn't really see anything, so she thought maybe she'd get away with it. One thing for sure, if he pulled out now, I'd see. So she stayed right where she was. "Yeah, well, you just sort of, sneaked up, and I, ah..." "No problem," I said generously. "Go on and dance. It's fine by me. But boy are you tense." I knelt on one knee down behind her. Now I often massage June's back, it's a great pleasure for her, and I enjoy doing it. I reached up and put my palms on her shoulder blades. It was as though an electric shock went through her torso, but what could she do? She couldn't go forward, and she couldn't go backward, so she just sat. I began to massage her back, and after several moments, sat down and spread my legs and scootched up behind her, as though we were both riding the same horse. I split my legs and moved closer. I moved my hands to her shoulders as I snuggled up to her back. I continued the massage. Now she was getting into it. She was undoubtedly still wrestling with the problem of John's dick in her pussy, but as long as she didn't move, it was well hidden. I continued my massage. She began to make noise. "Oh, that feels good." I didn't know if she were talking to me or to John. At this point, it didn't matter. "Ah, ah. Lower." I moved my hands lower on her back. "God, you are just a bundle of tension." I knew why. "Here, this will help." I released the clasp on her bra. "What are you doing, oh, oh," she said. She knew exactly what I was doing, but tried to maintain an illusion of modesty. "Oh, for heaven's sake. That strap is in my way, and is holding in the tension. And by the way, honey, your bra got soaking wet the first time you went in, and doesn't hide a thing. Now be honest. John. John? Does her bra hide anything?" "Not a thing," he agreed. "And doesn't she have great tits?" "Fabulous," he said. "See, honey? No big deal." I let the bra straps hang down to the sides. I put my hands against the flesh of her back and continued my rubbing motion. She didn't know what to do. She was doing her best to stifle moans, not altogether successfully, while talking to two men who had her surrounded and penetrated. "Does this strike anyone as weird? Here we are at 3AM, sitting in a hotel pool, with two men talking about my tits while my husband takes off my bra?" She paused. "With a stranger standing right in front of me?" She didn't mention the cock that was poking into the warmth and wetness of her cunt. I bent my head down and nuzzled the back of her neck. She always loves that. She shuddered. "Here, John," I said. "This makes her crazy. Just nuzzle the side of her neck..." He bent his head to the task. I put my head on the other side of her neck and began doing the same. "What are you doing?" she managed to say in between staccato breaths. "Oh, this is great, oh, we shouldn't, oh..." Like I said, she makes noise. And she excites easily. Her words degenerated into a series of low moans, and I could tell by the volume and the pitch that she was excited. "I feel like a sandwich between you guys..." she trailed off. Part 4: I continued to rub. I spoke into her neck as I softly said, "So John, you really like my wife's tits?" I knew that John's hands had returned to her breasts. I sensed, more than felt, her tremble as he released her hiding hooters from the bra cups. I knew they would grow as the ruby tip expanded in his hands. "They're awesome," he said. "And I'm not just saying that." He was nuzzling her neck as he said, "You have the most gorgeous body, beautiful breasts, wonderful skin..." He kissed her neck gently. I could see him rocking his pelvis gently back and forth. I knew, but could not see, that his dick was sliding in and out of her hot box, lightly and slowly, but sliding in and out nonetheless. Her moans increased, and I could tell she was getting close to orgasm. I thought she might try to stifle it, even in spite of how far the conversation had come. I whispered to her. "It's OK. OK. Relax. It feels good. Your back is relaxed. The tension is gone. You feel good." She was moaning. And I knew this series of sounds. This was what she did with less than 20 seconds left before her explosion. I continued talking. "John. You like my wife's tits a lot? Have you got them in your hands? Do they feel good?" She climbed closer. He squeezed his hands around her breasts. I said softly, "Let go, honey. Let go." When I knew she had just hit the point of no return, I lifted my head and whispered in her ear, "And I know he's got his nice big black dick in your pussy, and he's fucking you. He's fucking you nice and slow..." She climaxed and let everybody from rooms 201 to 205 know it. She screamed so loud I thought she deafened John's right ear. As she rode the roller-coaster down with her little series of "ah - ah - ahs," John took to pumping his dick in and out of her. There was no pretense left. Now we all knew. And she knew we knew. John was still pumping when I said, "What did it feel like, John?" I had interrupted him; caught him off guard. His hips slowed. "Uh, well, uh," Silence. Then "It felt like a thousand tiny fingers massaging my dick. Her snatch got hot, and then I could feel it gripping me, gripping me, gripping me, trying to pull me in. Shit, it was fabulous." He began pumping away. "Whoa, slow down, soldier," June said. "Give me a minute. I can go again. That is, if it's OK with you, dear." She twisted around and looked at me. I kissed her square on the lips. "It's fine with me. In fact, it's terrific." "Whew. All right! OK, tiger, straighten that dick up. Let's get ready." I told you she liked to talk dirty. "And some dick it is, too." "Really?" I said. "Can I see?" Of course, I was curious. I peeked over her shoulder and looked down. She explained to me, "It's about the same length as yours. But it's thicker. A lot thicker." The stereotype lives, I guess. At that moment, he was pressed to the hilt, and I couldn't see anything. But he answered me, stammering, "Sure, I guess." He slowly withdrew his hard-on from her pussy, and I saw what she meant. He had the same 7" length as me, but he had to be as big around as a beer can. At least that's what it looked like from where I was sitting. "Holy shit!" I croaked. "Jeez. That is something." I paused. I was just drunk enough to say, "Do you mind?" And I snaked my hand around into both of their crotches until my fingers brushed against his boner. He didn't move. I slid my hand down further, until I grasped him completely. I tried, but I couldn't get my hand all the way around it and touch my fingertips together. I took my hand away. June was looking at me strangely. "Hey, man, if you want to..." John said. "No, really, I was just curious," I replied. I hadn't had my hand on a guy's dick since I was 11 and Jimmy Verti and I were jerking off to Penthouse magazines and we started "helping each other." I looked at John, wondering if he were bisexual. I wasn't. But having my hand on his aroused organ for those brief seconds gave me a jolt I hadn't expected. Anyway, I said, "Now, John. Slow and steady wins the race." I leaned back into her and began to kiss her back. She snaked one of her hands around and groped at my crotch. I knew what she wanted; I wanted it too. I pulled my shorts to the side, releasing my prick into her waiting hand. She grabbed at it and did her best to stroke it in spite of the awkward position she was in. John began rocking back and forth in front of her, sliding his tool into her toolbox while he massaged her tits. "Hey, darlin'," I said. "How about some noise?" She began to groan, then to moan. She said, "This is so nice of you two fellows. John, especially you. What would I do if you weren't here? Why, I'd be back in my room, probably just playing with my vibrator. Instead, I get to have you here with your nice big cock - and it is a NICE...BIG...DICK sliding in and out of me. Does your cock feel good right now? It's too bad I'm stuck in this position. I'd sure like to be sucking that cock, and having you cum in my mouth and all over my face." "Uh," he grunted. It didn't take long. "Oh, I'm getting there. I'm getting there." I knew she was. Her moaning was increasing, and her words were getting more and more indistinct. All John could do was grunt. I could see he was rocking more and more furiously. "Oh, oh, oh," she said. I jumped back and stood up. Now I had a perfect view of his cock sliding back and forth into her. He was ramming her like a piston, and she was taking every blow. I took my dick into my hand. "Look at me, hon," I said. She twisted her head around. She knew what was coming. I was. She looked up into my eyes with love, then looked straight at my dick. "Come on, big boy, cum all over me," she said. I guess John and I came at the same moment, because I heard him groan just as I lost it. I shot my first huge load; it hit her right in the forehead just at her hairline. Half my goop went into her hair. SPLAT! My second spurt landed on the bridge of the nose on her smiling face.Cum dripped down her cheek. John was groaning and groaning, so I knew he was filling up her cunt with his jism; I wished I could see it. But as my dick continued spurting, she kept her face turned up to me, her eyes holding my gaze, waiting for me to finish. A little of my sperm shot right past her face and landed on his arm, but he was in such throes of passion I don't think he even noticed. My fourth spasm dribbled across her lips. At that moment, she reached her climax and began bucking like a stuck pig. Her moans became grotesquely loud, and her face contorted as though she were in pain. The three of us collapsed in a heap. We were silent for a couple of minutes, when John said, "God, I'm thirsty. I have cotton-mouth. I could really use a beer." "Just a sec," I said. I ran back to the chair and grabbed the one can I had stashed earlier. I draped a towel over my arm and returned. "Room Service," I called out. "My wife's cunt, and a beer. Will there be anything else tonight, sir?"

Part 3

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/15080.txt

FirmHand23

A Loving Correction, Part 2

"Yes, Ruth, you really do need correction, don't you?" I query. "You've let me down again. I think you rather enjoy trying to get a reaction out of me." I lift up your chin and make you look at me. "Why are you looking at the floor? Am I on the floor? Am I? Look up at me, young lady!" I hold you there without saying a word for a moment, towering over you, making you anticipate. "Strip!! Now!!" I command you. You start slowly pushing the straps of your sundress over your shoulders. "Hurry up, I haven't got all day!!" You hurry along, removing your dress and bra. When you're finished, you meekly resume your submissive position on your knees, legs spread, hands behind your back. I watch as your breasts heave with every breath, your rosy nipples standing out like hard little marbles. "Crawl over to the table and fetch me your hairbrush and panties from your handbag," I order you. "And don't touch the hairbrush with your hands, either." You start to rise and I push you down by your shoulders. "Didn't you hear me? I said CRAWL." You blush slightly, then crawl over and fetch the items I've requested, the panties in your right hand and the hairbrush in your mouth. When you return before me, you regain your kneeling position and offer the hairbrush and panties to me with both hands. I take them and place them on the corner of my desk. You're sure they are going to be used later, but you're not sure when or exactly how. "Up on your feet, young lady. It's time you were taught another lesson. One that I hope sticks this time," I announce. I scramble quickly to my feet, foolishly believing that obedience now will somehow make amends for my previous behavior. I desperately want to please you. Without being told, I spread my legs apart and put my hands behind my back. I'm scared...the butterflies in my tummy are so strong that my entire body is trembling. Taking a deep breath, I look up at you. "This will be a little different than last time, honey. I'm going to have to try to impress upon you the importance of disciplined behavior. But I can't have you squirming around like last time." I open my desk drawer and take out some black leather things with stainless steel rings on them. "OK, Ruth, you know the position. Get down over my desk," I command. You belly up to the edge of the desk and slip the towel I've so considerately placed for you between your pubic bone and the desk top. You spread your legs and bend over the desk, reaching far over to grasp the opposite edge. I see you wiggle your chest, planting your nipples solidly into the smooth, polished wood. I slip one black leather strap under your right wrist and buckle it up. Not too tight, but just so you can't pull free of it. I run another longer strap through the shiny ring and down to what you assume is an eyebolt at the bottom of the desk. I do the same with your left wrist, then with both your ankles. I see you tugging at your restraints and smile....but I check them myself anyway to be sure they'll hold. I place your panties in front of you between your outstretched arms, all smoothed out nicely. You look at them and realize that they are there to remind you of your submission and nakedness throughout your spanking. I pick up the hairbrush and run my hand over the polished wooden backside of it, then give my other hand a few whacks just to test it. "Oh, before we begin, Ruth, there's something I almost forgot to ask you. When you went home after the 'show,' did you masturbate while thinking of those men in their skimpy little outfits?" The sight of the black leather straps causes my heart to race in fear...I know you're going to restrain me again. I silently obey your command and lay across your big mahogany desk. I try to think of something, anything, to say to convince you not to restrain me, but before I can, I'm attached to the desk. I tug at the straps, but they hold fast. My heart is pounding in fear. I'm helpless, you're holding my hairbrush, and I know I've been a disobedient brat. My bottom is still sore from the yardstick, and begins to throb in rhythm with my pounding heart. Oh, I am so sorry I got myself into so much trouble! I wonder if I should try to tell you I'm sorry...I don't think you'll believe me...you'll probably just think I'm trying to get you to go easy on me. I sigh deeply and shut my eyes so I won't have to look at my panties. I can't believe you asked me about playing with myself! Why now?? I thought I'd already answered all your questions! I can't answer that!! I'm too embarrassed!!! I don't *want* to answer that question! I hear the thwaack of the hairbrush against your hand, and I whimper softly. I know that what I want doesn't matter and anything less than full cooperation is going to result in extra punishment. But I'm still too ashamed to answer you. My bottom is throbbing steadily...I don't know how I'm going to be able to endure the hairbrush when I'm already so sore. I decide the hairbrush is much, much worse than being embarrassed, and I find the courage to answer your question. "Um, yes, Sir, I did masturbate that night, but I wasn't thinking about the dancers. I was thinking about you, Sir." OMIGOSH, I don't believe I said that out loud! I open my eyes, see my panties and burst into tears of shame. "How flattering, my little Ruth. I'll accept that, even if I don't entirely believe it," I say evenly. I stroke your hair and dab at your tears with a Kleenex as you lay bound over my desk. I put my spanking hand to your lips, and you instantly move forward to kiss it. I move the hairbrush along your cheek, and stage whisper, "Be strong, Ruth." You give a final little sob, then take a deep breath, resigning yourself to your spanking. I move to my position at your left rear, and run my hands over your taut cheeks, which are now sporting goosebumps. I spread your cheeks in a final inspection to be sure your bottom target area is clear for me. I lay the hairbrush across your buttocks and adjust my arm reach to be able to reach both of your twin globes. "Ready, honey?" I ask needlessly. You can't find your voice, but your nod and the flinch of your bare hips indicates that you are indeed prepared for your punishment. I lift the hairbrush once again after an interval I'm sure feels like several minutes...making you wait, feeling the sting settling in, almost to your hip bones. I bring it down sharply across your right buttock this time, watching the wonderful jiggling it produces. You squirm and whimper, but you're taking it like a big girl. After four spanks, I pause and brush back your hair and tell you to turn to face me. "Aren't you forgetting something, Ruth? Hmmm?" I ask firmly. You stutter, then almost give up, before I see a light go on in your eyes. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Sir. I forgot to count my spanks. Please forgive me. It's just that I was so...." I interrupt you by placing my fingertips lightly on your lips. "No need to apologize, honey. I know you're anxious. We'll just start the spanking over so you can count properly this time." You begin to protest, but wisely hold your comments to yourself.I see your body sag as you accept your error and the consequences you expected to result. I begin once again. SMAACKKKK!!! "One!" SMAACKKKK!!! "Two!!" SMAACKKKK!!! "OWWW...THREE" SMAACKKKK!!! "OHHHH...F...four!!" I rhythmically alternate between your defenseless cheeks, watching you strain against your bonds. I know you would like more than anything to rub your fanny to relieve the stinging. I lecture you in between the spanks...about being a deceitful girl, using bad judgment, hiding things from me, masturbating without asking me first, etc. Finally, I reach thirty, which you count out breathlessly. I rest my hand on your lower back just above the cleft between your buns, and wait until your squirming settles down. When I feel you become still and your breathing returns to normal, I step before you and offer you the hot surface of the hairbrush. You look at it for a moment with glazed-over eyes, then reach forward and plant a sensuous kiss right in the center, feeling the warmth of your bottom transmitted to your lips through the hairbrush. "Thank you for my spanking, Sir," you remember to say. I know you really mean it. You really feel I care enough about you to monitor your behavior and dish out the necessary discipline for your lapses. I slowly unfasten you from my desk, taking my time, letting you relax a bit. You are glad the spanking is over, but you wonder if the entire discipline session is really over. Or is there more to come? As you gently help me to my feet, I'm unaware of anything other than my burning bottom. My legs wobble, and I hold onto your arm with both hands. I place my head against your upper arm and sigh softly. I'm so glad my punishment is over! I look up at you with a smile, but at the sight of your stern expression my heart sinks. I lead you over to the corner, being mindful of your recent ordeal. I place you in the corner and put you up against the wall, which will steady you. I gently pull your feet apart and place your hands in front of you this time, not wanting to stress you too badly right now. "I want you to remain here with that naughty backside on display until I release you. Is that clear?" I ask you. You nod and mumble a "Yes, Sir" before I leave you alone. I watch as you try to straighten up the best you can and relieve the tension you endured during your hairbrush spanking. I leave you alone for 15 minutes before I slowly get up and approach you. "Time's up, Ruth. We're going to have a little chat, just the two of us. How's that?" I announce. You look up at me and smile, but it's only half-hearted, since you know that what I say isn't always what you think I mean. Your words send a chill down my spine. It seems to me that the two of us have just had quite a chat and why does this sound so ominous? Instinctively, I try to hide my fear. I know you expect an answer to your question, but I'm not sure how to reply...I think it must be some kind of trick. No matter how I answer, you're going to punish me. I notice your eyes begin to darken and decide I'd better say something quickly. With another try at a smile, I reply "Why that would be, um, nice, Sir." I lead you over to my straight back chair, and make you kneel on the seat facing the back. "Now pooch out your bottom for me, Ruth," I instruct you. Your chest lowers a bit as you force your rounded bottom out toward me, still pink from your spanking. I run my hand over your taut skin, feeling the little goosebumps. "Since I want you to have a lasting impression, little girl, you are to receive ten hand spanks, five on each cheek," I announce. "I won't have to tie you down for this, will I, young lady?" "N..No, Sir. I'll hold my position for you," you reply. I smile as I press down on your lower back, steadying you. My right hand rises up.... SLAAPPP!!! "ONE!!" "Good girl. You remembered to count," I praise you. SLAAPPP!!! "TWOOOO!!" SLAAPPP!!! "OWWWW!!! THREEEE!!" Finally number ten is completed, and you're still holding your position, but none too steadily. I help you up off the chair, rubbing your bottom for you to ease the sting a little. I don't want you touching yourself anywhere...at least not yet. I stand you up before me and tell you to place your hands on your head and spread your legs. Once you get into position, I tell you to keep your eyes straight ahead. You wonder what's coming next, as you sense me coming around to your left side, facing you. As I obediently place my hands on top of my head and spread my legs, the butterflies return to my stomach. I take a shaky breath and try not to tremble as you face me. I want to look at you, to let you see the submission in my eyes, AND to try to find out what you're going to do next. I stare straight ahead as instructed and wait. I feel my pulse quicken in fear...is this what you meant when you said we would be having a little chat??? I know that sometimes what you say isn't what I think you mean, but I don't think I'm going to like having a little chat no matter what it means! I stare straight ahead at the buttons on your shirt as I try to be still. I can feel myself trembling, but I'm not sure if you can see it. The room is so quiet...I hear a gaspy sound, and realize it's the sound of my breathing. I concentrate...inhale...exhale...and slowly the sound disappears. I focus on your shirt buttons again...fascinated, I watch them rise and fall steadily as you breathe calmly. I study the way the buttons fit through the buttonholes. I wonder who invented buttonholes. Which came first the button or the buttonhole? As I give this serious thought, I realize that if buttons had never been invented your shirt would be open and your chest would be naked. Like I'm naked. Suddenly I feel very exposed. I'm sure you're staring at me. I start to look down at the floor in embarrassment, but luckily I remember you told me to stare straight ahead. I look at your buttons again, but now they seem to be mocking me, making me feel even more aware of my nakedness. I think about you watching me. I wish you weren't wearing your shirt. I'd much rather stare at your bare chest than at your shirt buttons. I don't want to think about this...it's making my nipples grow hard, and I know you'll notice and then you'll know I'm having naughty thoughts about you. As I come over to your side, I see that your nipples are hardening a bit. I stop, bend down and give each of them a brief kiss. In doing so, I place each little nib between my lips and pull, letting the tip of my tongue graze it before I let it return to its normal jutting position. Fully hard now, I position myself to your left, up close. I get in close to you, so you can feel my legs touching yours, and my shirt against your arms. I lean forward, my lips nuzzling your ear, and ask, "How was your spanking, Ruth?" "F...fine, Sir. I learned my lesson this time, really I did." "Why did I have to spank you, Ruth?" "I needed my spanking because I was a naughty girl again. I disobeyed you and didn't tell you the whole story at once," you reply, hanging your head. You feel my hands sandwich you, my right hand on your lower back, moving downward, at the same time my left hand strokes your tummy and moves down toward your little brown bush. "How does my little girl deserve to be spanked when she's so naughty?" I press on. "She deserves to be spanked....bare," you finally choke out. The fingers of my left hand are tracing little light lines up and down your slit, my middle finger finally working its way between your pouty lips and up inside your pussy, my palm pressing on your hard, slippery clit. My right middle finger has already been coated with your pussy juices and slips easily up inside your rectum in one smooth motion. You gasp slightly at the simultaneous intrusion, but you obediently hold your position. I lift up slightly with both hands, causing you to rise on your toes. "Who has control over every part of you right now, Ruth?" I ask, searching your face for every nuance of expression. "You do, Sir." "And why is it that I must have control over you and punish you, little girl?" "Because you love me and care about me, Sir. I know you do!" I detect the hint of a grin as you say the last words a bit more confidently. Tightening my grip a little more and pulling up harder, impaling you on my fingers to the maximum depth, I ask you, "And who loves you more than me, my dear Ruth?" "No one, Sir!" you exhale, feeling stronger inside now for having endured your just discipline and being reassured that I still love you. 'You must, or you wouldn't spend so much time disciplining me', I realize, oddly proud that I deserve so much attention. 'Ohhhhhhh...your hands feel soooo gooood', I think to myself, quivering in anticipation. As I wonder how your hands can be so punishing one minute and so full of pleasure the next, your voice breaks into my thoughts. 'Omigosh, I'm going to cum from your hands!', I realize as you nearly lift me off my feet. I lose myself to the pleasure, aware of nothing but your hands, holding me, filling me. As my pleasure intensifies, you speak again. 'Please let me cum!', I plead silently. I try to hide my frustration as your fingers slowly retreat... 'Mmmmmm, I love the way you kiss,' I decide, as I savor the delicious sensations running through me. As the kiss slowly ends, you take me by the wrist and guide me toward your bedroom. I give you a lingering kiss on your cheek as I release the pressure from my hands, letting your feet go flat on the carpet as my fingers slowly withdraw from your two most private openings. I turn your shoulders around so you are facing me.I lift your chin up slightly so you are looking up into my eyes, and you begin to smile; a contented, proud smile, one that shows how happy you feel about having someone like me who cares enough to discipline you when you need it. I kiss you tenderly on your lips, my tongue just flickering over your lips, teasing you. You throw your arms around my neck and return the kiss...long and so deep. My hands wrap around you, pulling you into me. We finally part, and I lead you by the hand toward my bedroom... "You're forgiven, my little angel," I tell you, finally bringing closure to the discipline. You kiss me back and pull me onto the bed with you, knowing that your rewards are imminent. You reach up and slowly begin to unfasten my shirt buttons...at last they're all undone and you run your fingers through the dark hair on my chest, delighting in the feel of my skin. You sit up slowly and remove my shirt, tossing it aside as you turn back to me. You wrap your arms around me and run your hands up and down my back. Your skin feels so warm and smooth, and I can feel your muscles ripple as you hug me. You press your bare breasts tightly against my bare chest and sigh softly. I know you love me so much, and now you want to show me how much you love me, especially for having punished you for your bratty behavior.

Part 2

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/15879.txt

Angel_wet

Unspeakable Love (caution)

"I once slept with thirteen guys in a four-hour period." Bea shrugged a little while she spoke and didn't look up from her pasta. I stared at her until I realized I was staring, then I glanced at the people behind us to make sure they hadn't overheard. I fumbled with something, the crushed red pepper or the straw in my Dr. Pepper. "That..." I started to talk, but a cough aborted the sentence. "That's pretty...I mean, that sounds like an exhausting evening." "Morning. I was cutting school." "You did that in high school? You were a pretty wild kid, huh?" She looked up at me, her iridescent blue eye-shadow gleaming. "Benny, that was last semester. Roman history? The day I told you I'd meet you for coffee after class, but never showed up?" When she said that, I felt like my skeleton suddenly turned to dust, my unsupported guts flopping to the floor; or like I'd been blindly strolling, then suddenly slipped off the edge of a dark pit. I was so stunned I couldn't even fidget intelligently. I sat there motionless, dumbfounded, gazing at the deeply-carved wooden table, the wild jumble of initials, curses, pledges of love -- all those generations of unrelated graffiti seemed to express my fractured emotional state well. I wanted to look at her, but I felt like I'd start crying out of jealous rage if I saw her face at that moment. So we were silent. Pinball machines, pool balls, other patrons, including a group from a fraternity at the back of the room -- was it them? were they the thirteen? -- took the place of speech for about two minutes. "I haven't done it since, though." She was chewing pasta again, and I finally looked up at her. Our eye contact felt cold, awkward. The thought flashed into my mind that I must look like a helpless, pleading puppy to her. She swallowed, then her eyes shifted like they were beads on an abacus. "Not with thirteen, anyway.""Oh," he stepped forward quickly, "Thanks, man," and snatched it away from me. In the fractional second that the magazine passed from my hands to his, the image on the cover burned itself into my mind at multiple levels: it was only after I sat down, opened a book, and held my mug to my lips that my brain sorted it out. The magazine's name was written in dark Gothic print, La Mort Elegante, and it showed an attractively made-up woman, extremely pale and lean, lying in a lacy sheer slip on a bare surface. Despite the girl's alluring self-presentation, there was something dissonant about the image, some sort of tension. Not only were her eyes closed, the girl's body seemed extremely stiff; her limbs seemed heavily planted on the plain surface under her. Then it hit me: She was lying on a mortician's table. She was a corpse. It was a necrophiliac porn magazine. * * * I realized I was avoiding talking to Bea about her extreme sexual gregariousness. "Yeah," Tanya said, "You're afraid that she'll ask you to join her with other guys. Then you might find out that they're sexually better than you. You're afraid that when it comes right down to it you're sexually third-rate." "No, I'm just trying to digest it. I'm not sure if I can date her if she has these behaviors." "Look, Benny, I'll let you in on a little secret. Women are not naturally monogamous. That's because individual men are never, ever sexually adequate. Women's sexual needs are enormous; insatiable by single men. That's why women are often so reluctant to know their own sexuality, why they're often sexually repressive; they don't want to realize that whatever monogamous relationship they're in, it'll never fulfill their libido. In fact, they'll never satisfy their sexual drive unless they rebel against our society's basic rule that monogamy is good, polygamy bad. That takes a lot of strength and courage. All females are, at their basic nature, like queen ants. And our hearts are big enough to love many, many males. But you men are puny, limited. It's sad, it really is. The dictate of nature is totally un-egalitarian; men are inadequate and replaceable. No wonder they're so stupidly aggressive; they have to compensate for their sexual nothingness." "Come on. Sexual nothingness? That's absurd." Tanya chain-lit another cigarette, smoke enshrouding her face as she puffed. "Nope. I'm serious. Men have a completely different attitude about sex than women. For women sex is largely about pleasure, but also it's about giving life. Women are able to give life. This threatens men, since they know that the life the women create, the child, will replace them in the woman's heart. Men want to dissociate the life-impulse from sex because that deprives women of their power. That's why all men -- I know you're going to have problems with this, but try to keep an open mind -- all men are, at their core, necrophiliacs. What they really want is a woman who is dead." I couldn't believe what she was saying. "Necrophiliacs?" "When men dominate women, cut off their freedom, stifle them emotionally, imprison them in house-wife roles -- it's all symbolic killing. Men want dead women; since they have to provide for women, since they're natural hunters, they're comfortable with death. Being alive for a woman has a whole different edge than being alive for a man: for women life is eternal, because they create it. For men, it's a threat, something they oppose as hunters, but can never master. Women are about giving life. Men are about destroying it. Women are life. Men are death." * * * The guy at the coffee shop, the guy with the necrophilia magazine, had mentioned that Bea seemed to approach her orgy as a sociological experiment. He had mentioned a survey, forms she had him fill out. I decided that on our next date I'd broach the subject to Bea with reference to all that, as if I was curious about what she learned from the experience in terms of sociology, or whatever field she considered her group sex to be in. We went to a show at the Galley, our local rock club. The crowd was dense and energetic, boisterous and dressed up like erotic banners. The tortured feedback of the band and the intoxicated, garbled cheers of the crowd limited our communication to exclaiming things into each other's ears. "Want a drink?" "What?" "A drink?" "Yeah!" When I returned from getting her a third drink, she had abandoned our table. I scanned the crowd in front of the stage -- on their feet, but too packed together to really dance normally -- and since she was shorter than most of the other patrons it took a moment to find her. When I saw her, I had to combat an urge to leave immediately. As I downed my drink, and then hers, I watched her frolicking lasciviously among a crowd of strangers: rubbing against bodies at random with her shoulders as well as her large, braless breasts; allowing her arms to brush people at every angle, not turning to glare at strangers who thrust against her from behind, but instead leaning back into their motion. A muscular guy with a crew-cut and a tank top stepped over to me. "Are you okay?" I guess I must have appeared pale and intensely uncomfortable. Maybe even nauseous. "Fine," I shouted back, not making eye contact with him. He paused, then smiled and held out his hand. "I'm Gary." I stared at him for a second, then returned my focus to Bea's lewd antics. A couple of times I lost sight of her in the tide of bodies, but in general she seemed most drawn to the hardcore punk-rockers who were doing a mild slam-dance in the center of the throng. After a while she appeared at my side with a very broad smile: lipstick smeared, hair disheveled, the two top buttons of her shirt missing. "Hi!" She called out, now quite hoarse. "I'm going to go," I said. She hesitated. I didn't know if I'd spoken loud enough for her to hear me, but then she grabbed my hand and started heading toward the exit. "You were awfully friendly with about thirty of those people." I spoke bitterly, after repressing my jealous fuming for the first two minutes of the walk home. She looked at me with an appalled expression then stopped walking. I continued for about four paces, then sighed, threw up my arms, and turned back to her. "Are you accusing me of something, Benny?" "Accusing you. Okay, no. I'm just saying that I don't like your behavior. I object to it very strongly." "I don't believe this." It sounded like it, too; she sounded genuinely surprised and dismayed. "Look," I lowered my voice a little, embarrassed to be arguing with a lover out in public. "I just want to know: was that, all that stuff you did back there, was that somehow...acceptable in your mind?" Not to answer my question but to express some blend of pity and disappointment, she shook her head, sadly, and folded her arms. "You know, you sound like a cross between Ann Landers and a central American dictator. Benny, I have no problem sharing my love with multiple life forms. My heart is not limited by numbers." "What do you mean, `life forms'?" As if giving up on the conversation, quite possibly giving up on me, she began walking. I followed. "All life is one. Living organisms are physically distinct, but spiritually identical. Part of exactly the same force that orders the universe." "I don't know what the hell you're getting at." "I'm perfectly comfortable with the idea of sharing my affection with non-humans." "Oh, my god." "You know, you could at least try to broaden your horizons a little. Anthropocentrism has had a profoundly destructive impact on our planet." "So...when you say you like the idea of sharing your love with other species, what do you actually mean?" "Well, for example, I'm planning on driving to the plains of northern Wyoming this summer and dating a herd of antelope." She studied my face for a moment. "Oh, come on. You're threatened by that, too?" * * * As usual, Tanya seemed to have no trouble grasping this. "She's experimenting; learning how the love-stereotypes in our society don't do justice to the complexity of her inner experience. That's amazingly wonderful, isn't it? The willingness to learn the truth about oneself, to learn what our economically-driven society finds inconvenient and so struggles to conceal and repress? Benny, you could do it, too. It'd make you a more evolved person. Why don't you get in touch with your innate male love of dead things? Why don't you go to a morgue, or--" "Oh, for chrissake," I cut her off angrily, and turned toward the door. "That's fucking insane, Tanya." She paused, then said with utmost compassion, "Benny, please. You shouldn't be threatened by the idea of knowing yourself more deeply. Whoever you are -- whatever your nature is -- it's all good." * * * Martha Beaulieu's was no ordinary tombstone. It was elegant, and really distinguished itself from the others. It was six inches thick -- good, solid granite -- and stood just about to the level of my waist. The stone was rose-colored, perfectly smooth and polished. The face of the tombstone was decorated around the edges with floral curves and splashes of extraordinary detail and artistry. Most of the other tombstones had lettering that was so ornate that it required scrutiny to read it, but hers was simple, so precise it almost seemed to speak to me. I was really dazzled by her -- well, by it -- and as I kneeled close to the stone to read the epitaph, it was as if I could feel a gentle presence in the ground beneath me. Disappointingly, her epitaph was in French, which I couldn't read. I gazed at it for a while anyway, absorbing the beauty of the headstone, the absolute quietude of the cemetery. Wind swept autumn leaves past me. The air was clean, richly scented.I put my palms on the cool grass around my knees, then lay on my back. To tell you the truth, I felt more comfortable there than I did in most groups of people. The stillness captivated me, and the sight of all the tombstones seemed oddly magical: even rows of marble slabs extending out in every direction, each with its own unique character, each cushioning the eye with a compact shadow. I thought of each one as a doorway to another place, somewhere peaceful, warmly tranquil. I'm lying in a cemetery, I thought to myself. I closed my eyes and felt the surroundings flow into me. This is wonderful; I'm lying in a cemetery. I touched my chest with my fingertips, felt my heart beat. Somehow the fact that I was alive there was thrilling; it was as if in the midst of all these symbols of death, my own living energy seemed augmented. And I adored it. Soon my caressing fingers moved down, and tilting my head back, gazing at Martha's tombstone above me, I unzipped my pants. My penis was already erect, and I held its warmth gratefully. After I ejaculated, I lay on my side with a blade of grass in my teeth. My feeling of intimacy with myself was profound, yet I did not feel at all alone; I was sharing an experience with the mysteries that lay interred all around me. Society's fear of death is all misplaced, I thought to myself. Love is just as much a reality in death as it is in life. And with the experience of those days, I finally began learning about love. The End

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/18039.txt

Waldo

Flash

"Come on, Dale. You've got to wake up. Snap out of it." A slightly frustrated and very angry Zarkov shook the unconscious woman's head as he talked to her after breakfast. There wasn't any response from her, which was what he expected. After all, his work on the Murf wasn't finished yet. Sitting down at his desk, he stared at the piece of equipment, which he couldn't concentrate on trying to get working. Instead of being relaxed and feeling good after sex, he was very frustrated and horny because he didn't have any sex the previous night. After working all day on the Murf, he went to his quarters and refused to get into bed with Hurley. Every two hours for the rest of the night, a Sharkman would open the door and ask him if he was ready for "The Captain". Zarkov tried to sleep, but he couldn't. The urge to have sex was too strong. For half an hour, he sat at his desk, picking up screwdrivers, then laying them down almost immediately because he couldn't remember why he wanted the screwdriver. Finally, he stood beside Dale's bed and held her warm hand as he whispered, "Dale. We may lose this one. Flash is already lost. I don't think that he can escape the trap that he's in now. I'm losing it and can't resist working for them any more. Ming wants me to wake you up. Then he's going to turn you into his woman. I don't know if I can resist much longer, but they did something to me. I don't have the fire and anger that I used to. I roll over and take whatever they give me. Ha, that's funny, but that's exactly what I'm doing...rolling over and... They are controlling my mind almost as much as they're controlling Flash's mind. I don't know if I can take much more of this." A cough from the open doorway startled the doctor. Wiping the tear from his cheek, he mumbled, "What is it?" The Sharkman asked, "The Captain wants to know if you're ready for him?" Clenching the woman's hand tightly, the doctor trembled as he mumbled, "Yes. Tell him yes." The Sharkman's calm voice commanded, "Go to your bedroom, and I'll tell Captain Hurley."The female Ambrosia had turned back into her real male body, thanks to the strong chemicals that Tixar injected into her body. Flash was leaning against the wall because he had been throwing up almost constantly since he awakened. Moesia was still sleeping from her injection. Spitting out some bile that he couldn't keep down, Flash gasped, "How long did they keep me screwed up like that?" "A little over a week. The Tractor-Grazer can work miracles if used properly, and experts worked you over. How are you feeling?" "Weak. I'll need a couple of hours to get my strength back and some water to get this foul taste out of my mouth. I've puked my guts out. What did you give me that snapped me out of my mental prison?" "You don't want to know. I knew the doctor that provided the chemicals used to keep you and Moesia under control. Like me, he tried to escape, so they killed him." Flash looked down at his body, which he hadn't seen since before the rocket landing. Prominently sticking out on his chest was a small tattoo of Ming's seal and the number 2. Flash pointed at the tattoo and the matching tattoo on the unconscious Moesia, "Looks like I'll be stuck with this for the rest of my life." Tixar pointed at the female breasts on his chest and said, "Could be worse. You could be stuck with these tits for the rest of your life." Flash stared at the feminized young man, whose face was flushed and slightly sweaty. Remembering the strong effects of the Xynobic Transfer that he saw from the brief time that Ambrosia was permitted to examine Zarkov's changed body, Flash asked, "How are you doing?" A smile flashed across the young man's face. "I could use a couple of good men with big dicks right now. I've got the worst itch in the most impossible place to scratch, thanks to Ming's feeble attempt at humor. They sure as hell turned me into an insatiable nymphomaniac that's got to have sex at least six or seven times a day as a minimum to stop the itch. It's only been three hours since I climbed out of bed from my last John, and I'm already so damn horny that I find it extremely difficult to keep from wrapping my legs around you. You're one good-looking man, and I can't keep my eyes off of your...large equipment. I sure wish that you weren't so weak and that we had a couple of hours to kill." Remembering his own mental imprisonment and the things that he did when he really believed that he was Ambrosia, Flash felt sympathy for the young man because he knew how bad the man was suffering. Flash softly said, "We're all going to get out of here. Moesia, Dale, Zarkov, and you. After we're on the rocket headed to Earth, if we haven't discovered a cure for you, then I'll..." The sentence was left unsaid, but both of them knew the unspoken long-term commitment for Tixar's assistance in helping Flash escape from his mental prison. Zarkov was hastily assembling the Murf. He was having trouble concentrating on the project because Wilson had interrupted Hurley before Zarkov could be satisfied. Zarkov frequently glanced up from his equipment and stared wistfully at the young Ranger's athletic body hidden behind the door where he was waiting for any Sharkmen who just happened to stick his head into the room. Wiping the sweat from his brow, Zarkov whispered, "How much longer do we wait here?" The young Ranger whispered back, "Captain said to stay here until the shooting started, then to get the two of you out of here." They had to drug Moesia again to keep her docile. They woke her briefly, but she didn't recognize Flash in his male body and certainly recognized Tixar as being her master's enemy. Knowing that they had to disguise Flash, Tixar stepped out into a hallway and lured a soldier of similar build as Flash back into the closed offices. Three minutes later, Flash was dressed as a Sharkman in that dead soldier's clothes and was carrying the naked Moesia over his shoulder. As they hurried toward the lab, Tixar asked, "I'm having a hard time fighting my strong urge to run to the barracks and find me some off-duty Sharkmen. Would you hold my hand and help me make it through this?" Flash held the young man's hand as if they were two lovers walking across the courtyard. The dead Sharkman guard was thrown into the lab and immediately followed by Flash. The guard outside the door had mistakenly questioned why a Sharkman was carrying the Emperor's unconscious woman, which was the last mistake that he ever made. Ranger Wilson holstered his pistols and stepped out from behind the door. "I'm Ranger Wilson. Captain Browning and the rest of the team are getting ready to blow this place." Flash shook the young man's hand, then rushed to check on Zarkov, who was sitting at the desk, tightly clenching his fists as he fought the urge to ravish the boy. Zarkov smiled at his friend, but quickly let his smile drop to Flash's crotch. Recognizing that his good friend was suffering just as badly as the youth that just rescued them, Flash knew that both feminized men would be useless in a dangerous fight. Turning to Wilson, he asked, "Where are the rockets?" "Our rocket is about four miles beyond the gates. Your rocket is on Ming's airfield, and Browning might have to use that one to escape. We should carry Miss Arden to our rocket." Pointing to Moesia and around the room, Flash whispered, "We've got two unconscious women who Ming will do anything to recover. Then we've got two men who are currently unable to control their bodies or mental states. We should leave now, because it's not going to be easy to get them to the rocket." Getting out of the lab was difficult. Not only did they have to dispose of another Sharkman who came to relieve the on-duty guard, but the two feminized men were difficult to keep moving. Zarkov was extremely difficult until Flash agreed to carry the Murf in addition to carrying Dale's unconscious body. So Flash had Dale over one shoulder, a Murf slung to his back, and his arm around Zarkov. Wilson was similarly loaded down with Moesia on his shoulder and his arm around Tixar's waist. It took Flash a couple of minutes to commandeer a cart outside the building, then they began the long journey out of the palace and city. After a forty-minute journey, they came to the end of the road where they had to abandon their cart. After twenty sweaty minutes of walking, they ran into the Sharkman patrol. The Sharkman saw them first and got off the first round..a deadly burst of rifle fire that took down Wilson, Tixar, and Moesia. Flash dropped to the ground as he pushed Zarkov behind a sheltering boulder. He quickly discovered where the bullets were coming from and snapped off a couple of quick shots. The first shot hit one of the Sharkmen, and they turned their weapon on his position. Bullets were ricocheting all over the place, and he couldn't stick his head out because of the heavy fire. Suddenly, there was a loud boom. Sticking his head barely out from the rock, he saw four dead Sharkmen laying on the ground. Sticking his head up, he saw the hand grenade pin lying inches from Wilson's position. While the Sharkmen were concentrating on Gordon's position, the young Ranger threw a hand grenade into the enemies' position, killing all of them. Rushing over to the young Ranger, Flash discovered that the initial round of bullets had hit all three of them. Holding the young ranger's head up to ease his suffering, the ranger pointed, "There...three hundred feet...rocket. Get going. You don't have much time." Zarkov was checking the other two, and he shook his head as if neither of them was going to make it. Leaving Zarkov to work with the wounded, Flash rushed back to where he had dropped Dale. Picking up the woman, he ran as he carried her in the direction of the hidden rocket ship. Finding it, he opened the door and laid the unconscious woman on a bunk. Then he ran back to the ambush site. Picking up Moesia, he carried her also to the rocket. Then he rushed back and carried the young ranger to the rocket, leaving Zarkov with Tixar. When Flash came back for Tixar, Zarkov had the Murf on his back. As soon as all of them were in the safety of the rocket, Flash shut the door and examined the instrument panel. He readied the ship so that he could take off on a moment's notice if necessary. The yellow light on the instrument panel started blinking, indicating an incoming transmission on the secret frequency. Flicking the switch below the panel, he said simply, "Gordon here." A high-pitched, squeaky voice squawked through the speaker, "Flash. I was wondering where the hell you were. Are you with Wilson?" Looking back at the injured Ranger whose wounds were being examined by Zarkov, Flash lowered his voice, "We ran into some problems. Wilson's been hit, and the prognosis isn't too good at this moment." "Well, do what you can to help the boy. I was kinda hoping that he would be the one to pull through if things got too bad for the rest of us. As you can guess from this radio signal, after we set up our bombs, we worked our way into your rocket. If you've got everyone, I suggest that you blast off. We'll give you a couple of seconds' head start, then we'll take off in your rocket as we set our bombs off. You know, just to give Ming something to think about."

Chapter 8 - Takeoff

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/18127.txt

JohnGalt

Indefinite Antecedents - Grammar Unapproved by Celeste

"What are you doing, hon?" "I'm reviewing a story by a new author. He has good themes, but sometimes has grammatical lapses, and his Tom Swifties are strained," Celeste said critically. Turning to look at her husband, she first noticed the lump in his sweatpants. Then, looking up, she saw that he had his thumbs stuck in his ears with his fingers spread wide. "You look like Bullwinkle." "I know," Roger said. "I'm feeling a little horny tonight." Walking over to stand behind her, he began stroking her earlobes and then her neck to the collar of her T-shirt. Celeste had just finished reading a series of good stories, so her panties were already damp. Not that it took much for these panties. They were a thong design with a brief front panel. The exhibitionist feeling she got from wearing these was heightened by the fact that she didn't trim her bikini line at this time of year. Even when she stood up, her luxuriant curls that framed her pussy would also frame these panties. "MOM!! You're showing. Gross!" one of her daughters had commented. As Roger's hands drifted lower, Celeste felt a new flood of juice. The fact that Roger had been out of town on business for the past two nights magnified all her responses. "Does this story include straight male/female fucking?" he inquired. "Yes, and very hot, too." "Perhaps you could provide a better critique if you had some recent experience to compare and contrast." Just then the phone rang. Celeste could see Roger's momentary deflation as he reached to answer it. "Hello. Hi, Rose. Yes, of course she's here," Roger grinned as he handed the phone to Celeste. Remembering the last phone call from Rose, he quickly planned his new seduction strategy. "Hello, Rose," Celeste said with a slight distraction. She watched as Roger fished an ice cube out of her water glass. "After the last lesson you gave me, I went shopping in C_____. They have some shops that sell toys like the ones you showed me," Rose said. "Uh-huh," Celeste mumbled. Roger was gently rubbing her nipple with the ice cube. The T-shirt was just enough insulation that the sensation was erotic rather than painful. "After I heard you mention the other day that Roger was out of town, I remembered that you used your toys sometimes while talking on the phone. Jeff is out of town himself tonight, so I thought that we might both want to play with our toys. With Roger back, that spoils it," Rose pouted. "Oooh nooo," Celeste moaned involuntarily as Roger surprised her by tweaking her other nipple. "You and Roger are playing again, just like the last time I called, aren't you," Rose asked excitedly, recognizing Celeste's sexual response. "Uh-huuuh," responded Celeste as Roger lifted her T-shirt to suck on the first nipple while shifting the remaining sliver of ice to the other breast. "This will be more fun than I imagined," said Rose. "You just pretend to carry on a conversation like you did last time and let me listen. I'll handle my end as I need to." Celeste had never found the right time to tell Roger about the results of the last talk she had had with Rose. Now didn't seem right, either. Remembering Rose's handiwork of two weeks ago, Celeste decided to keep up the phone call. Knowing she was playing a dangerous game with her partner heightened her arousal. "Okaaay," she said as Roger slid two cold, wet fingers into her panties and across her clit. "Rose is calling about baking Magic Bars for the upcoming PTA bake sale," she said to Roger while allowing Rose to hear also. "Yeah, I'm cooking, but it's more like peach pie, not Magic Bars. Let me describe my set-up," said Rose. "I'm wearing a jade green negligee that has a plunging neckline. But to heck with that! I've got one of my breasts out of the bodice, and I'm stroking it. You remember how you liked to watch my tits sway? I'm on my knees, leaning slightly forward so my tit can swing slowly and graze the nipple along my palm." "Oh gracious, those butterscotch bits just melt in your mouth," Celeste exclaimed. Roger had pulled her panties to the side and was using just the tip of his tongue to lightly run up and down her cunt lips. She could feel the juices from her pussy begin to dribble down her ass crack. "I'll bet Roger has his head between your legs by now. Right?" Rose said. "Of course. The boys gobble them up," replied Celeste as she used her free hand to pull Roger firmly into her pussy. "Well, I've got something for my pussy, too. John Henry's about 10 inches long and two inches in diameter. It's really life-like with a nice ridge around the head and veins showing on the underside," Rose breathed into the phone. "I can feel my dew beginning to run down my leg, but I think I'll suck on it a little to get it ready to go in." "I should do that, tooooo," moaned Celeste as the first orgasm washed over her. As she rested for a few seconds, she could hear Rose slurping around her toy. Then she pulled Roger up and licked her own juices from his face. Thrusting her hand into his sweatpants, she grabbed his prick. Roger helped by pushing the pants southward, providing much-needed freedom for his member. Celeste admired his shaft. "Maybe not ten inches," she thought, "but more than two inches across. Better than that, the workman sure knows how to use his tool." She plunged her mouth forward over the shaft. Imitating Rose, she slurped a little around it. Rose squealed. "You're sucking him. Oh, I can just imagine that. How nice and hot it must feel in your mouth. I bet you like to swallow all he can give you, both solid and liquid," Rose chuckled. "Well naturally, you've got to get nutrition in there." Celeste stopped long enough to get out a complete sentence. Roger bucked his hips in mild frustration. To compensate, she grabbed the K-Y out of the drawer and used it to lubricate her finger. Celeste slowly spread the K-Y along Roger's crack. She knew how it excited him to be caressed like that. She pressed her finger into his nether-hole. She pressed in until she felt his prostate. Then, she began to caress his prostate in sync with her head movements. "I'm going to use my friend, now," Rose related to Celeste. "I'm on my back. I've got to ease John Henry in slowly. I'm up on an elbow watching it go in. The head's inside now. It feels sooo good. I'm pulling it back out to feel that again. Ooooh, there it goes back in. It's about half in. It feels so good, and I'm so fucking wet. I just imagine you now, with your lips wrapped around his cock. I'll bet he's tugging on your tits. Now John Henry is all the way in. I feel so full, but so, so good. Every time I pull him out, he rolls my lips out so I can see how red and hot they are. I remember your pussy with your thumb in it and two fingers in your ass. That was so sexy!" As she was currently otherwise occupied, Celeste had not added to this running commentary, but now Roger pulled out of her mouth and pulled her toward the floor. Fortunately, the phone had a long cord. "The oven is set to hot," Celeste commented to Rose. She lay on her back waiting for Roger. "I hope you let him do your ass again," Rose blurted. "I get so excited every time I think about that, that big schlong of his in your pretty rear. I've got another friend here to take care of me, too. It's only about four inches long and three-fourths of an inch in diameter, but with K-Y, it will slip right into my ass." Celeste caught Roger right as he was entering her. "You've got to butter the pan all over, especially the back, Rose," she said as she rolled over. Roger was quick on the uptake. Grabbing the K-Y, he pulled the thong to the side and lubed Celeste's brown pucker, then started to slide in. "I've got little Johnny at the back door. How far should I slip it in?" Celeste heard over the phone. "Use the WHOLE STICK ... of butter," Celeste answered to both questions. "Oooh. I can't believe how good this feels," Rose said to Celeste. "What about you?" "Yes, that's really good," Celeste gasped as Roger reached around to stroke her clit.Conversation lagged for the next minute. Rose and Roger ended up synchronizing their panting with Celeste's. Suddenly, Roger slammed his hips forward as if trying to weld himself to his wife's ass. Celeste fell over the top just after. "They get all gooey and melt together when they're done," Celeste almost whispered into the phone. A trilling sound came over the phone to Celeste's ear. "Rose, you need to get your husband to fuck your ass the way my husband just reamed mine!" "I know," Rose said wistfully as she hung up. "So, when did Rose hang up this time?" Roger asked. "After I told her to use the whole stick, she got off," Celeste replied.

MF, F mast

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/9645.txt

Ann Douglas

Behind The Curtain

"You wanted to see me, Shelby?" Annette Delany asked as she knocked on the opened door of the office and stuck her head inside. "Sally's not at her desk and..." "Come on in and have a seat, Annette," he replied with a quick wave of his hand as he continued his phone conversation. "I'll be with you in a few minutes." The 22-year-old brunette stepped into the large office and sat down in one of the two chairs in front of Shelby's large oak desk. Carefully, she adjusted the conservative blue and white business suit she wore. She really would've preferred to have waited in the outer office while her boss finished up his business call, but with his secretary at lunch, she had no choice but to announce herself. Shelby Thomas was 44 and quite a good-looking man. He had brown hair and a beard which, coupled with the glasses he wore, always made Annette think of one of her college professors. Still trim, unlike most men his age, he was just beginning to fall victim to the effects of a lack of exercise. It was the price of success -- too many hours spent behind the desk. The young woman really didn't know him too well. Aside from her original interview and office gatherings, she had few personal dealings with him other than staff meetings in her short time at the firm. Not wanting to stare, Annette instead looked out the window, fixing her gaze on a ferry boat in the distant harbor. The view from Shelby's office was certainly much better than hers, not that she ever thought of her cubicle as an office. One of the perks of success, she reminded herself. After all, this was her first job since graduating college, and she really hadn't expected to start at the top. At least not in the first ten months at Moore and Stanley, she reminded herself. "...and I look forward to seeing you next week," she heard Shelby say to his associate on the phone as he brought his conversation to a close. Shelby took a few moments after he hung up the phone to jot down a few notes on a pad before looking up and giving Annette his full attention. "I guess you're wondering what was so important that it couldn't wait until after lunch," he said as he dropped his pen back into the holder on the edge of his desk. Truthfully, Annette had a really bad feeling when Sally had called her an hour ago and said that Shelby wanted to see her at noon. One of her best friends had just been fired from her job a month before, and her boss had done it during the lunch hour as to have as few people around while she cleaned out her desk as possible. She didn't think Shelby was that kind of boss, but didn't many of these middle management types go to the same schools? She'd wracked her brain to come up with any major error she had made and came up empty. In fact, she thought she was doing a really great job, a lot better than her predecessor had -- and his performance had earned him a promotion. "I've been going over your handling of the Peterson Foods account," Shelby said without any preamble as he removed a large folder from his file cabinet. "In fact, Gustav Czerny, the general manager of Peterson, called me this morning to comment on it as well." "Oh shit," thought Annette, "They're not happy with the changes I made. I knew I should've played it safe and just follow Carson's previous recommendations." "Needless to say, Mr. Czerny was quite surprised at what he considered such a radical change in the way we handle his account." "I'm going to be fired!" the brunette said to herself as she squeezed her hands together below Shelby's line of sight. "He also remarked that if he'd ever come across such malfeasance in his own organization, he'd have been inclined to immediately fire the individual responsible. After taking a more detailed look at these accounts, I had to tell him that I agreed." "Malfeasance?" Annette mentally repeated to herself, how could they even accuse her of such a thing. "All she did was correct what she had thought were sloppy errors and poor practices." "Needless to say, Jim Carson no longer works for this company," she heard Shelby say. "What...?" Annette said, confused. "And if it wasn't for the bad publicity that would come out of it and the fact that I think it was more incompetence than malfeasance since he doesn't seemed to have profited from the errors, I might've even considered criminal charges against him." "You fired Carson?" Annette repeated. "I had to," he replied. "This company can't afford to lose clients because of shoddy work. The only reason we haven't lost the Peterson account is that Czerny is willing to overlook Carson's poor management if we guarantee a better handling of their affairs in the future. That plus a certain financial adjustment that I'm sure you'll have plenty of time to read up on later." Shelby paused a few moments while he dropped the file back into his cabinet. Then, with a much wider smile on his face, he stated again. "I know you haven't been with us very long, Annette," he began. "but if you continue to deliver work like this, I see a real future for you with our company. The most immediate aspect of my appreciation for your work will be seen in your check next week. It's a small increase, but one which I'm sure will be repeated on a much larger scale before long." "Thank you," Annette said, both in relief and appreciation. "I wish it could've been more," he said. "But as it is, all I really did was move up the raise you would've been getting by a few months. At your level, there are limits to what I can do in regards to salary." "It's more than enough," Annette said. "It's enough to know that someone notices the work you put in." "But as far as other areas, I do have a bit more leeway," Shelby noted. "I want you to take the rest of the day off." "You really don't have to..." Annette started to say. "...In fact," Shelby cut her off. "I don't expect to see you in this office again until Monday morning." "But it's only Wednesday..." Annette noted. "I'm well aware of that," he responded. "And Monday is Monday, ... I'm well aware that you've acquired the habit of coming in on weekends to catch up on some work. That's commendable, but not this weekend." Annette didn't know what to say, except thank you one again. "Now get out of here," Shelby said in a mock gruff voice. "Some of us have work to do!" Annette rose to her feet and started for the door. She was halfway there when Shelby said in a much quieter tone. "Enjoy the weekend," he said as he looked up from his desk and admired the feminine form that even her austere attire couldn't conceal. "If I was only twenty years younger and not her boss," he thought before he caught himself. -- "Hell, forget the twenty years," he concluded as he decided to allow himself this small indulgence. "If only I wasn't her boss." Back at her cubicle, Annette took a half hour to finish up what she had been working on. It wasn't that important, but it would've been on her mind all weekend if she hadn't. By the time she shut down the computer on her desk, most of the other associates were returning from lunch. Annette looked up from her desk to see a tall olive-skinned blonde standing over her. Yvonne's hair color was a recent change; prior to that, she'd been a brunette just like Annette. She had to give her friend credit -- she wouldn't have had the nerve. Yvonne was two years older than Annette and had been at the firm that much longer. She also had been hired right out of college. That was where the comparison had ended. Whereas Annette was always trying to blend in and let her work speak for her, her friend was always trying to be a center of attention. Like right now, she wore a blue skirt which most people would've considered too short for an office. It was topped by a pristine white blouse which strained against an impressive bosom. "So what did old man Shelby want?" Yvonne asked. "You really shouldn't call him that," Annette said. "He's really not that old." "If he's over 30, he's old!" Yvonne replied. "So what happened?" Annette quickly told the story. "So they fired Jim Carson, huh," the blonde noted. "Couldn't have happened to a nicer prick." "That's not very nice."Annette said, trying to show some sympathy for the man. "But true," she said. "I went out with him for drinks one Friday night after work with some of the other associates. We wound up being the last two at the bar, and he started giving me all that crap about how his wife didn't understand him. All the while, he was staring down my blouse to get a good look at my tits. Not that they don't deserve a good look. Then he got all pissed off when I wouldn't give him a blow job to help ease all his pain." "I guess he was a prick then," Annette agreed. "I think if it wasn't for the fact that he was afraid of your boyfriend here," Yvonne said as she rested her hand on the small photograph on Annette's desk, "he'd have been trying to get into your panties too." "There was very little chance of that," Annette smiled. "In fact, none at all." "Oh, I know that," Yvonne laughed. "I know you have better taste than that." Annette smiled a grin which held a secret that Yvonne never would've guessed. "Speaking of good taste," Yvonne went on as she picked up the photograph. "I don't know how you do it?" "Do what?" Annette said as she picked up the last of her stuff to leave. "Stay celibate while lover-boy here is off playing soldier," she replied. The first picture in the double frame was indeed a soldier -- specifically a U.S. Marine. Close-cropped black hair framed a ruggedly handsome and deeply tanned face. The dress uniform he wore concealed an equally rugged and handsome body. The other photo had been taken a few months ago at the office Christmas party when he had been home on leave and came to the celebration with Annette -- much to the envy of half the office's female population. "Well, I do keep busy," Annette quipped. "And Danny does write every week." "Girl, a letter isn't going to keep you warm at night," Yvonne said as she replaced the photos. "I would think you were at least burning out the batteries when you read them." "That, I'm not going to comment on," Annette laughed. "I know if he was my guy, I'd have taken him to bed and fucked him till he couldn't walk. That'd be the end of that soldier crap." "He's a Marine, not a soldier," Annette corrected. "They're a little particular about that point." "Whatever..." Yvonne said. "The point is that he's half way around the world in Korea. You don't really think that he's suffering from a terminal case of blue balls, do you? Or that he's faithfully jerking off every night into a tissue while thinking of you. My brother was in Korea while in the Air Force, there are plenty of 'mama-sans' to take care of a lonely soldier... OK, Marine... far away from home." "We have an understanding. I told you that," Annette concluded as she noticed that more people were back at their desks and she no longer wanted to continue this conversation. "If you'd take my advice," Yvonne said, having to get in the last word. "You'd go out and have some fun over your days off. Go find yourself someone nice and more importantly... available. It wouldn't hurt you to get laid more than once or twice a year." As she watched Yvonne head back to her own desk, her ass swaying much to the delight of her male co-workers, Annette's face again filled with that 'I've got a secret smile.' "I wonder what you would think?" she thought as her eyes followed Yvonne down the aisle. "If you knew that if I woke up with a warm body next to me tomorrow morning, I'd rather it be yours than Danny's." Annette let the thought of Yvonne's naked body pressed next to hers rest in her mind for a few more moments, enjoying the imagery. She knew that the tall blonde was somewhat of a sexual adventurer -- if all of the stories she had shared were to be believed. Maybe someday the younger woman would have the nerve to see how much of an adventurer she really was. With that, she grabbed her purse and was gone as well. An hour later, after a not-so-quick subway ride, Annette was home at the Soho apartment she shared with a roommate. It was only three in the afternoon, and Michelle wouldn't be home until six. Then she would be gone by seven, off to her part-time night job. If nothing else, Annette would have the apartment to herself tonight. But to do what? One of the reasons Annette had been spending so many hours at work lately was that she had broken up with her last steady lover four months ago. Not that it had been much of a relationship, but still it had been something. In fact, the relationship had set a new record for longevity -- three months. In the end, it had come down to one big incompatibility. Vanessa was out of the closet, living her life openly as a lesbian. Annette, on the other hand, still lived a life of secrets -- hiding behind a false identity as it were. She had told Vanessa that it was because of her job that she couldn't come out. It was one thing, she repeatedly had said, to be an open lesbian when you worked in the entertainment industry as Vanessa did. It was another when you worked for an old-fashioned, establishment banking firm; and you had only been there less than a year. Maybe when she was more established, things would change. She didn't want to have to start looking for a new job in a small tight-knit community carrying the label that she was 'that dyke bitch that Moore and Stanley fired'. Oh, they couldn't fire her for that of course, not in this age of political awareness. But they could make you miserable enough that you eventually gave them a reason to fire you. To all of this line of reasoning, Vanessa had simply replied that it was so much bullshit. All Annette lacked was the guts to stand up and be counted for what she was. Deep down, Annette had to admit to herself that Vanessa had been at least partly right. So for whatever reasons she used to justify it, Annette had created a false identity to carry around like so much excess baggage. Right down to a conveniently absent boyfriend which took care of any questions as to why she didn't date any of the guys she met. Technically, Danny Ryan was both a boy and a friend -- one of the best friends she'd ever had. He just wasn't the boyfriend most people took him for. Their friendship went back to grammar school and was based on a lot firmer foundation than sex. Not that sex didn't enter into it, at least on one occasion. Like thousands of other girls, Annette had lost her virginity on prom night. Like so many of her contemporaries, she had found it a somewhat disappointing experience. Taking the adage that you can't make a judgment based on only one taste, she'd gone to bed with another young man with equally discouraging results. Finally, she concluded that perhaps it was the emotional aspect that was missing. With that in mind, she'd taken her best friend in all the world to her bed. It had, she was quite willing to admit, clearly been the most physically satisfying of the three encounters, resulting in her first orgasm during sex. Yet as physically fun as it had been, it had also been as hollow as all the previous attempts. Six months later, after a few beers for courage, Annette had given in to a yearning that she had kept secret since she'd first became aware of it shortly after her 16th birthday. The next morning when she'd woken up in the bed of another woman, she'd found what she'd been searching for. Strangely enough, the song on the clock radio that woke her up that morning had been 'Looking for love in all the wrong places'. Quite appropriate, she later thought. Despite a few affairs she had during her remaining years in college, Annette never found the courage to 'stand up and be counted' as Vanessa always called it. In fact, except for the other women involved, the only person she told was Danny. It was a testament to their friendship that he'd told her that no matter what, he'd always be her friend. The idea that she could use him as an absentee boyfriend had been his. So here she was, a four-day weekend in front of her and absolutely nothing to do. Perhaps she should take Yvonne's advice and go out and find someone. Maybe not the someone that Yvonne intended, but someone nevertheless. The more she thought about it, the more it seemed a good idea. "Maybe I do just need to get laid," she said out loud, laughing that she was starting to sound like Yvonne. Annette spent a few hours running errands in the neighborhood before again returning to the apartment to make dinner for Michelle and herself. Sure enough, just as the clock was striking six, Michelle came prancing through the door. "Honey, I'm home!" she announced as she dropped her knapsack onto the couch. Her announcement was a little joke that both she and Annette shared. Though both were lesbians, they didn't have a sexual relationship. It just worked out better for both of them to have a roommate that they didn't have any secrets from. Annette had a 'straight' roommate back in college, one of her best friends as a matter of fact, and it caused all sorts of problems. She'd lost track of all the times Karen Robinson had tried to fix her up. It had also precluded her bringing home any of her dates. One thing both she and Michelle had in common was that they both were at a point in their lives that they weren't looking for a long-term relationship anyway. Both were too young to settle down, and it was a big world out there. They once discussed sharing each other's bed for a night, just to see what it might be like. But after a little heavy petting on the couch, they decided that each of them would rather have the other as a friend. If they were lovers, it would only complicate their extracurricular activities. "Welcome home, Dear," Annette said as she walked out of the small kitchen, dinner in hand. "And how was your day?" "Oh, just about the same."Michelle said as she took a sniff of the pleasing aroma of the dishes Annette was carrying. "Hmm, that smells wonderful. Some special occasion?" Annette quickly gave an abbreviated version of her own day as they sat down at the table in the common room. Michelle said she was happy for her friend. "So what are you planning to do with your sudden vacation?" Michelle asked as she finished off the last of her meal. "Well the idea of hopping on a plane and shooting off to Los Angeles suggested itself. But then reality set in and put a kibosh on that idea. I guess maybe I'll just go out tonight," Annette said as she sipped at her drink. "See what happens." "Great," Michelle beamed. "Where are you planning to go?" "I thought maybe I'd go up to Scarlett's Rose," Annette answered. "It's too bad I have to work. I haven't been there in weeks. I'd love to go with you," Michelle said as she pulled off her blouse to put on the uniform she wore at the local restaurant where she worked nights. "You could always call in sick," Annette suggested as she looked longingly at Michelle's bra-enclosed mounds. There were times she regretted their decision not to be lovers. "I'd love to, but if you want to see my half of next month's rent, I really need this job," the long-haired blonde said as she buttoned her blouse. "Maybe next time then," Annette said as she carried the now empty and dirty dishes into the small kitchen. "Well I'd better run," Michelle said as she picked up her knapsack. "You be careful," Annette said as she came back into the room. "Make sure you take a cab home, no more walking home in the middle of the night. If you need it, I'll pay for it." "Yes, mother," Michelle chuckled. "I've saved up my allowance and I will be careful." Annette just gave her a disapproving look. Despite being almost a year younger than Michelle, Annette did sometimes feel like her mother. "Now give me a kiss and I'll be on my way," Michelle said as she pressed her lips against Annette's. The kiss was brief, almost platonic, just as Annette had expected. The second kiss wasn't, and took her by surprise. Her eyes opened wide as she felt Michelle's tongue slide between her lips. "That's just to warm you up," Michelle said as she disappeared out the door. "Now go out and have some fun. And if you bring anyone home, be sure to leave the table lamp in the hall on so I don't walk in on the two of you. It's been so long you probably forgot about that." "I haven't forgotten," Annette said quietly as she closed the door behind Michelle and locked it. Cleaning up after dinner only took a few minutes, and Annette decided to take a shower before going out. Feeling the need for something special to wear when she was done, she began going through her lingerie drawer. She quickly found what she was looking for -- a pair of sheer black lace panties and a matching bra. They were still in the original wrappings. She had bought them to wear for Vanessa but never got the chance. Underneath the plastic package was another plastic bag containing a bright red kerchief. Annette took out the scarf and lifted it to her face. Sealed in the zip lock bag, it still held a trace of perfume. "Vanessa," she said out loud as the fragrant aroma filled her nostrils. Visions of the last time Vanessa and her had made love filled her head. It was as clear as if it had been last night. "Come on, baby," Vanessa said as she rubbed her bare, dark breasts against the back of the light-skinned girl beneath her. "When are you going to take me home to meet your Mom and Dad?" "We've been through this all before," the scantily clad Annette replied. "It's not that simple." "Oh, don't tell me that," Vanessa argued. "You just take me home and say, 'Hi, Mom and Dad, I'd like you to meet my lover.'" "After which I'd be calling 911 for the heart attack my mother would then be having," Annette said as she rolled out and from under the larger girl. "Maybe you're just underestimating their tolerance?" Vanessa said as she sat up and ran her hand through her long, shoulder-length black hair. "Besides, since I'm a Nurse, I can always administer CPR." "I don't think so," the brunette said as she reached for the lamp on the night table. In truth, she wasn't sure which would be the greater shock to her parents - that her current lover was a woman, or that she was as black as the night. "Leave the light on," Vanessa said as her hand closed on Annette's. "I want to watch you make love." "All right," the younger girl replied. "If it makes you happy." Annette leaned forward and kissed Vanessa, anxious to put the subject of her 'coming out' behind them. She cared more for her lover than she liked to admit. She knew she wasn't ready for a monogamous relationship, and Vanessa hadn't asked for one. But she knew she would miss her if she left. A sudden rush of excitement filled Annette as she cupped both of Vanessa's large breasts. The young woman knew that in the eyes of some of her more feminist and politically correct friends, her passion for women who had large breasts was somewhat improper. Her attitude to them was 'screw them', it wasn't any of their business who she took to bed. It was a pity she didn't have that strength of will when dealing with her parents and her straight friends. Her finger played with Vanessa's erect nipples, enjoying their hardness. One at a time, she lifted the heavy orbs to her mouth and sucked on them. "Oh, I love it so much when you do that," Vanessa purred, replacing Annette's hands with her own. Vanessa's nipples, like her breasts as a whole, were nearly twice the size of Annette's. The brunette so loved the feel of them in her mouth. Her tongue swirled around the stubs, covering them with her wetness. Then she would slide them into her mouth once more. Each time was like the first, exciting and intoxicating. "You are magical, Vanessa," Annette said in a sweet, sexy voice as she squeezed the dark breast. "Magical?" "Yes, magical. I've never wanted to make love to someone as much as I want to you right now." Vanessa lifted Annette's face away from her breasts and once more kissed her softly on the lips. Then the kiss became harder and more passionate. Annette put her arms tight around Vanessa's body as the two opened their mouths and let their tongues run from mouth to mouth, back and forth in feverish and anxious lesbian desire. Annette felt Vanessa's magic move into her body. She gave up her body to her lover, offering it as a sacrifice to lust. She wanted only to please Vanessa and, in turn, to be pleased by her. She hoped that if she could only make this moment last forever, all of their differences would disappear. Vanessa took her lips from the younger woman's mouth and kissed her soft skin, licking her face with her tongue. "Oh, Vanessa," Annette moaned. Annette was wearing a light nightgown that hung from her body by a pair of shoulder straps made of light, flimsy material. Vanessa brushed those straps from her shoulders and let the nightgown move down Annette's soft, young skin. Her firm, rounded breasts with the pink nipples were soon exposed to the black girl's passionate eyes. Annette's mounds were small but just as full and sweet as Vanessa's. Vanessa ran her lips down them slowly, letting her love wait a bit before she got to the little pink nipples that were already beginning to turn bumpy and hard with excitement. Finally, Vanessa kissed one of those nipples. Annette sighed and lifted it up with her hands so that the black woman could more easily suck on the pinkness that was there, waiting for her lips. Vanessa stuck out her tongue and ran it around the pinkness of the nipple. Then she put her lips on that pink circle and closed them tightly around the good spot and began to suck with ecstasy and excitement. Vanessa had made love to many women before, but had never made love to a girl who seemed to want it as badly as Annette did. Vanessa sensed as she sucked the nipple that Annette was trying to turn this little late-evening love feast into something special -- something that she could forever cherish. If so, Vanessa was more than happy to help. Gently, Annette pushed Vanessa back, and the black woman let the nipple escape from her lips as she moved back. Annette put her hands on Vanessa's shoulders and brought the sexy, black woman forward for one more kiss. This kiss wasn't soft. It was hard and filled with passion -- passion that came from both mouths, from both souls. As they kissed, Vanessa cupped Annette's bare breasts in her hands and felt them as they heaved with her lust. Now it was Annette's turn to return to those black fountains of delight. Before becoming Vanessa's lover, Annette had never really been attracted to black women. Now she found the deep darkness of her skin an aphrodisiac. Annette took her time and waited for a few seconds before she finally kissed one of the ebony nipples that stood there, beckoning her like a searchlight in the fog. Now she ran her tongue around the nipple and closed her lips around it, kissing it and sucking on it with pleasure and desire.

Part One

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11288.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 the flowers that grow there. 1997

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/9148.txt

Jak@northjersey.nj.com

The Game Continues

"Hai," she said with resignation in her voice. Mika opened the sliding glass door and stepped out, naked, with her nipples erect. It would be easy for any passerby to look up and have a full view of her beautiful, exposed body. I joined her and cupped her breasts from behind as she gathered the clothes. I took them from her and threw them inside. The rain was cool. The night was hot and humid. I guided her hands to the railing and backed her up, effectively bending her over. She moaned loudly as I pushed into her. I fondled her breast with one hand and her clitoris with the other. In and out I pushed, looking around, hoping to find a spectator. I didn't see anyone, but told her there was a man looking out his window at us. She bent at the knees, trying to hide. I held her up, saying, "Ye-a, shimp-ie she-ni-dai. No, don't worry about it. Let him watch." She held her position. I thrust in and out of her. She was still hot from our first encounter and came quickly. I was happy to see she was turned on by our public display. I looked down, able to see myself entering her. I loved this view. I smiled as I took in a deep breath of the moist evening air and enjoyed the other view - the small Japanese homes crammed together like cars in a junkyard. All I needed was someone to look out so I could cum on her ass and back as they watched. I fantasized about this as I rigorously massaged her clitoris. I felt her begin to shake slightly again and decided to stop. I instead guided her hand to that sensitive spot. As she fingered herself, I used my free hand to pull her head back. I tugged gently on her hair, forcing her to look out into the vacant street below. Finally, the moment I wanted. A man was walking his dog back from the park down the street. He didn't look up at first, paying attention only to his dog. I pointed him out to Mika as I slapped her thigh with my other hand. The sound of my hand hitting her bare skin and the yelp she let out as a surprised result got his attention. I again grabbed her hair and held her head up. He had a full frontal view of her now. At about thirty yards, I'm sure he could make out exactly what was going on. Behind Mika's back, I gave the middle-aged man a thumbs up sign, which he returned with a smile. I wish I could have seen Mika's face at this point - the humiliation and the raw embarrassment. I couldn't, I could only see myself exploding onto her ass. The thick white liquid sticking to her like glue. I wiped some up with my middle finger and put it into her mouth. Her lips closed around the finger. Slowly I pulled it out, leaving the salty taste for her to savor. Now relieved for the second time that night, I turned her around and held her softly, hugging and re-assuring her. I put my back to our one-man audience and leaned against the railing, still holding Mika in my arms. I guess he wasn't interested in looking at my ass and quickly walked his dog home. We stood there naked, in the light summer rain for what seemed like a long time, not saying anything, just holding one another. Finally, I looked down into her eyes. I saw tears. "What's wrong?" I asked with worry in my voice, thinking I may have gone too far. "I love you," she replied. I held her tight, holding my own tears back, saying, "I love you too." We walked back into her small one-room apartment and covered ourselves in the smooth silk sheets I had bought her in Hong Kong on my previous visit there. We curled up on her futon and slept. I fell asleep with a smile on my face and Mika in my arms, wondering if she would still call me John Sama in the morning. The morning came, all too quickly. The wonderful part was the way I was awakened. I felt a soft warm wetness moving up and down my shaft. I, as most men wake up with an erection, and Mika was sucking it slowly and softly. I might have come just before I was awake, because I felt myself pulsing in her mouth just as I was aware of what was happening. I felt myself deflating. She moved up and kissed me good morning. As I kissed her, I could taste my own salty come still sticking to her mouth. I was surprised, it did not repulse me as it would have in the past. I kissed her deeply and passionately, moving my hand to her breast. She cut my plans short, however, and got up and poured me some morning tea. I thanked her as I sipped. We decided that before we went out, we should watch the movie we had missed the previous night. The movie was Dumb and Dumber. God, I hated this movie. She loved it, it was simple enough for her to understand with her limited English. She laughed as I daydreamed about the previous night's events. She was still watching the movie, and I slipped into the shower. I was just standing there, letting the hot water refresh me. I washed, and then just went into a pleasant daze. I must have been there for a long time, because I ran out of hot water. I turned it off and just sat on the rim of the tub, daydreaming and thinking of what I wanted to do with her today. I wanted to get a few things at the mall, so I figured that would be a good thing to do on a dreary Saturday afternoon. I sat there some more, avoiding watching the movie, when she knocked on the door. "Dai-jobu desuka?" Are you ok? She asked. "Hai," I answered. The door handle slowly turned, and then opened a crack. She peeked in. I was still sitting on the edge of the tub in her minute bathroom. "I come in?" She asked. "Umm, ok," I said, looking down at my naked self. She stepped in wearing a beautiful pink teddy I had bought her in Singapore. (I loved her to wear things I bought her. They were for me more than her after all.) I could see her constantly erect nipples pointing through the thin silk. She smiled a very small, shy smile and sat across from me on the toilet. "You take shower?" She asked. "Yes, but I didn't wash my hair yet." "I do," She stated. Surprised, I asked why. "You can't remember?" She asked coyly. "Remember what?" I asked seriously. She said a long sentence in Japanese that I couldn't understand, and I asked her to repeat it in English. "You are my master, ne?" "Oh, I thought it was just a game, I thought it was just for last night." "Hmm, game, yes, this weekend only," she retorted. I figured I should enjoy this weekend if that was the case and quickly began to think of interesting things to do. She washed me thoroughly, from head to toe, then dried and dressed me upon completion. I thought to myself how lazy I would become if this went on any longer than just the weekend. After getting me dressed, she said she would take a shower now. I agreed but said I wanted to watch. She turned a bright red when I said this. We had showered together before, but the idea of me just watching seemed to be embarrassing to her. She nodded and gathered a towel and made her way to the bathroom. I was close behind and left the door open. I made her undress just outside the room, it being too small for her to move around with me inside. She stepped in slowly and turned on the water. I sat on the closed toilet and watched as she stepped into the bathtub. She lathered some soap onto a washcloth and began to spread the suds over her body. Her face was still red as I stared at her. She had such a small patch of hair, it looked like she spent hours waxing her bikini line. It was all-natural though, just a small and very cute oval of hair. She washed her hair and her upper body and rinsed. I decided to make her do something. I asked her if she had to use the toilet. She replied that she did have to a little, but she was okay. "Go," I said. A look of repulsion. "Here? Now?" she shrieked. "Yes," I said without hesitation. She tried to turn around and face the wall as she squatted slightly. I instructed her to face me and to look into my eyes as she does it. She slowly turned and faced me, squatted down, and urinated in the tub. The urine poured out, streaming at first, then trickling down her leg. I had never seen her face as red as it was now. I wanted it to stay that way. She had started something, and I wanted to push it as far as she would allow. I stood up, her eyes following me. I faced the stream of water from the showerhead towards the wall. I told her to lie down in the tub, and she did with a questioning look on her face.As she looked up at me, I took out my now erect penis and began to urinate into the tub. She tried to move out of the way, but I scolded her for doing so, and she remained still. The stream ran up and down her body, coating most of her breasts and legs. When I was done, I commanded her to kneel in front of me and to suck me off. I could tell from her now whitening face that this was a much better alternative to being pissed on. She took my penis into her mouth and my balls in her hand. She moved her face up and down my shaft until I came for the second time that day. After I came in her mouth, I told her to finish her shower, and I went into the main room of her small apartment. I picked out a short mini skirt and a tight-fitting blouse for her. They were very bright with yellow and orange flowers. I thought that they would contrast this gray day quite nicely. She stepped out of the shower wearing only a towel. I walked up to her and hugged her, holding her tight and telling her how much I loved her. We held each other for a long time before I showed her the clothes I'd picked for her. I asked her if she liked them, and said that she didn't have to wear them if she didn't want to. She thought they were fine and started to gather undergarments. I said that it would be sexy if she didn't wear any. She looked at me with a strange face, but slipped into the skirt with no panties, and the blouse with no bra. Her nipples, which always seem to be hard, pointed out noticeably, and I imagined a breeze blowing her skirt up on some main street. How could I have fun with this? I thought to myself.

Part 2

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/9639.txt

Darkside@nym.alias.net

Letters 2/2

"I'll keep reading." That evening I had a splitting headache and I had to go to bed early. Rose felt unwell too and kissed me goodnight. It was about midnight when I felt as though my body was on fire. Sweat was pouring off me and I had to get up to get a glass of water. As I went into the bathroom, I felt my pajama pants go loose and fall down from my legs. Too ill to do anything about it, I staggered to the sink to get some water. I casually glanced in the mirror and saw my face was softer and more rounded. My normal black hair was growing out and becoming blonde. I put a hand to my face, not believing it was real, and saw to my horror that my hand had lost its muscular look and was now small and dainty. I stared at my face again and saw how the flesh had just finished changing and that the last of my hair had been replaced by long, blonde locks. Looking back at me in the mirror was Rose's face. It was then I noticed a pressure on my chest and reached up, dreading what I would find. I could feel the flesh of my newly forming breasts starting to press against my hand. The nipple on the breast was erect, and no matter how hard I pressed inwards, my breasts kept growing. I gave up after a while and just let them hang there. A horrible thought struck me, and I reached down to my groin, dreading what I would find. I screamed, a high-pitched, womanly scream when my finger found only a moist, fleshy mound. I tore my clothes off and stood in front of the mirror. I looked exactly like Rose! I had her long, shapely legs and wide hips. My body was thinner, and the curves I had were certainly not masculine. My breasts hung from my body and heaved as I breathed. So I did what any normal man would do, I screamed. "Fucking hell, I would do to," David exclaimed. "I wonder what Rose did?" Jennifer asked. "Dunno, let's find out," David said. Jennifer continued reading. I staggered back to my bed and lay down, in shock. I was about to investigate further when there was a knock at the door. I looked around to see if I could get anything to hide my new body and eventually found my dressing gown. I wrapped it around me, ignoring the new sensations that bombarded me as I did it up. I called out, 'who is it?' in the most manly voice I could muster. A man's voice called back 'Vic, It's Rose.' I quickly got up and opened the door. My old body stood there with a shocked look on its face. There was a thump as my old body fainted. I pulled 'Rose' back inside and brought her round with some cold water. I needn't go into the discussion we had as you can imagine what took place. Suffice to say, we knew the accident was the cause and that we had no idea how to switch us back. We discussed how we felt at length and decided that we still loved each other regardless. Rose treated it as a joke, a vacation if you like, and asked if I wanted to make love as a woman. I admitted that my new body made me as horny as hell, so I agreed. Besides, it gave me a chance to try out my new tits and pussy. This is where it gets explicit, sorry but it turns me on even now. So skip ahead if you want to. "I'll skip shall I?" Jennifer asked. "I'm curious. In any case, we might miss something. Mom wouldn't put it in if she didn't want us to read it." "You just want some cheap thrills," Jennifer teased. "Just read it, will you," David replied. OK then, and Jennifer started to read. We both lay down, naked on our bed, each of us unsure what to do. I wasn't too sure about kissing a man, but when Rose ran her hand over my breast, I was soon persuaded otherwise. The feelings were electric. She gently touched my face and ears, something which I had liked as a man, and then kissed me. I expected to be repelled, but something in me made me respond. I felt my pussy go all warm and moist as she kissed my now erect nipples. Instinctively, I reached down and grabbed Rose's erect dick; she gave a sigh as I stroked its long, hard shaft. All thoughts that this was my old body I was fucking went out of the window when she reached down and ran a finger over my moist cunt. A feeling of immense pleasure rushed through my body as I felt her finger enter me. A loud, feminine moan erupted from my body as I felt as though I was on fire. So intense was the pleasure, I lay motionless on the bed, relishing every stroke and caress Rose gave me. I'd had sex with Rose many times, but sex AS Rose was another matter. I lost track of time as Rose brought me to the point of orgasm many times. It was incredibly frustrating but also incredibly pleasurable. I was surprised when she asked me to open my mouth and even more surprised when she sat above me and beckoned me to give her a blow. I'd always enjoyed Rose sucking me and wanted to return the favor. I grabbed hold of her cock and placed it in my mouth and started to gently stroke it with my tongue. Rose groaned with pleasure at this, and I began to suck a little harder. It was hard to concentrate as the waves of pleasure began to increase for me as well. I tasted a warm, salty flavor and realized that this was her pre-cum starting to be released. I desperately wanted for her to fuck me and indicated as such. We paused for a few moments for me to put a rubber on her, and then she straddled me. She fumbled a bit, trying to guide her new cock into me, but I took hold of it again and guided it into place. I felt her warm, fleshy shaft enter me, and I felt a stronger pleasure wave hit me as she went right in. She waited, stationary for a moment, and then moved her hips up and down, driving her cock further into me. I felt as though I was about to be split in two, but still the pleasure came as she thrust faster and faster. I was now groaning and moaning as Rose used to, it was the only way to express the pleasure I felt. Suddenly my body was hit by a hammer blow of pleasure, and I let out a wail as ripples of pleasure spread from my pussy to all around my body. I felt a pumping, throbbing sensation in my pussy and saw that Rose had gone still. A few minutes later, I felt Rose go flaccid inside me, and she pulled out of me. We got up and just cuddled for ages, both of us completely satisfied. The questions of how we would explain this, and what next, were forgotten in that brief time of post-orgasm glow. "I can't believe they just jumped into bed right afterwards," Jennifer said. "I can. People deal with shock in different ways. Look at us -- we've been at each other's throats for five years, and here we are talking as though nothing has gone on," David said. "But still," Jennifer started to say. "Mom did cut a lot of the dialogue out. I wish I'd been a fly on the wall," David said. "I suppose. Anyway, carry on," Jennifer said. "Agreed," David said and started to read. We tried to tell our parents of our situation, but they failed to understand. Eventually, they cut off all relations and refused to take our calls or answer our letters. It was a sad, hard time, and only our love kept us going. What made it harder was that the military decided we were too sick to be of any use and wanted us out by the end of the year. As you may remember, we got married in 1958, and it was one of the happiest days of my life. This letter is getting a little long, so I'd better sign off, see you in number three. Love, Vickie XXXX "OK, let's open number three," David said, still numb from the revelations of the second letter. "You read nearly all the second one. I think I should read next," Jennifer said. "Fine. I need some time to think this through. How about some more coffee?" "OK, you know where it is. " "I meant you make it. It's YOUR house," David snapped. "After all that's happened, you still insist on getting this house? Listen, I need this place. Dad gave it to me for safekeeping, and I'm NOT selling," Jennifer shouted back. "But look, we now know Dad and Mom switched, it must've placed a strain on their emotional states, it would me. Using these letters, I've got the.. ," David started to say. Jennifer interrupted, "You wouldn't. These letters are private and personal, not ammunition for your own ambitions. Mom's pouring her heart out here, and all you want to do is pick it up and serve it up as a writ."Doesn't anything we've read so far make you see that Mom and Dad loved each other and from that love came us? They'd hate to see us fight like this." "Of course they loved us and each other, but that's not the point. Mom wanted to use these letters to settle any arguments between us. That's what I want to do. She wanted me to use them," David argued. "Look, there are still two letters left. Let's see what they say and stuff the coffee," Jennifer said, trying to placate David. David thought for a while and then said, "OK, you read." Jennifer opened letter number three. 'Hello again, By now you know our story of how we got married. This letter will explain events afterwards and maybe even resolve any differences between you. Anyway, I'll pick the story up where I left off. As I said, we married in July 1958, and I made a stunning bride. Since both our parents had disowned us, our wedding was a quiet affair. It didn't matter; we were happy, and after my honorable discharge, had enough money to live on. I spent my time teaching Rose, now Robert, my engineering skills so he could get a job easier. Remember, in those days, women did not become engineers, or rather they could, but they couldn't find a job afterwards. It was a man's world. I also devoted my time to investigating what had happened that fateful night, but the science of the time was, and may still be, inadequate to explain what went on. In any case, as soon as I fell pregnant with David, all my experiments went out of the window. My mother's instinct was stronger than my desire to return to my old body. Feeling him kick and punch inside me was the only persuasion I needed to stay as I was. Robert had by then become a freelance technical author and was enjoying having a career, so he didn't mind much either. When David was born in 1960, my time was all but taken up by looking after him. As I had relished the challenge of formulae and electrons, I now relished and reveled in motherhood. When David was two, we agreed to have another child, and Jennifer was the result. Naturally, I identified more with David, and Robert identified more with Jennifer. As you grew up, we took on the roles the other would normally take. I was the one to give the 'father-son' chats, for example. We both remember your childhoods with great fondness, and the excitement and pride of seeing you both grow up into adults will stay with me forever. We moved here in 1963, and I soon became a memorable figure in the town. I led the women's rights marches and burned my bras with the rest of them. Soon, I became known as the town's 'Calamity Jane'. I could write a book on our lives together, on the good times and the hard, but I do know I couldn't have wished for a better partner or for more beautiful children. You remember the rest of the times we had, so I'll skip to the now. Your father, my husband of nearly forty years, has died. Words cannot describe my feelings of loss and grief, but he is still here, inside. I guess you now feel the same about me. David, don't hide your feelings from yourself. Jennifer, let out the grief that I know is still inside. Be there for each other no matter what has gone on before.' Jennifer stopped reading, the tears welling up in her eyes. She wiped them away with her sleeve and went to continue to read when David said, "You know, seeing her write those words makes me feel better. They struggled through thick and thin to stay together." "Mom would cry her heart out to see us like this. I'm sure when she wrote this, she had no idea of the bad blood that would be between us. Why don't we put it all behind us, for her sake?" Jennifer said. David sighed. Deep down, he knew Jennifer was right. He turned to her and said, "Why don't I read?" "Fine, change the subject. I'm tired of reading for a while anyway," Jennifer said and handed David the letter. David took the letter and started to read. 'There are a couple of things to tidy up before I go. Firstly, the will. We know that the choice to give the house to Jennifer will be controversial. David, I sincerely hope that you will understand our reasoning for this and not go off the wall at Jennifer for getting the house rather than you.' David stopped reading and looked rather sheepishly at Jennifer. Jennifer glared back. Deciding to see what was going to happen next, David started to read again. 'David, we knew that you were doing well and didn't really need the house. Of course, you valued it, as the place you grew up in, but if you are honest, you don't REALLY need it, do you? Jennifer, however, does. Her divorce has left her alone and broke, and our home is the only solid thing she can now hold onto. We also knew that she would never sell, and so she'd keep the hiding place of these letters intact. Besides, it was our house, and ours to do with as we will. The fourth letter contains information that makes all our reasoning clear. But I'm getting ahead of myself.. Robert and I discussed what to do with what; he wanted to split the house fifty-fifty, but I persuaded him to do otherwise. Jennifer, once I am gone and these letters have been read, feel free to sell the house and use the money as you wish. Start up your own business or anything. As a woman, you have more opportunities for a career than I ever did. Make the best of it. Get on with your life and live it.' David stopped reading and looked at Jennifer. The two siblings stared at each other for a few seconds, and then Jennifer said without any trace of smugness, "I guess that blows your claim to the house out of the water. Mom gave it to me to help me get through my divorce. She's right, of course. I need to get on with my life." David sighed, "You're right. I can't argue about it now. I can't pretend to like it, but I guess financially speaking, I don't NEED the house. You were right earlier, about Mom hating to see us fight. I'm sorry." Jennifer's face brightened. She saw a chance of reconciliation and took it. "I tell you what. When I sell the house, I'll give you half, as you wanted," David's face brightened. Jennifer continued, "On the proviso that you invest in my new cleaning business. I need the money, and you don't lose any face. As you would say, it's win-win." David thought it over and then said, "Partners, fifty-fifty?" "Sixty, forty - it's my business after all." "OK. As long as you let me teach you about the accounts. You never had any allowance left at the end of the week anyway." "Done and done," Jennifer said, holding her hand out. David took her hand, and they shook. Jennifer felt a weight lift from her, and the pain of the last few years melted away. She looked at David, tears once again in her eyes, and said, "What about the rest of the letter?" "Shit. I'd forgotten about that. I'll read on." 'David. We are so proud of what you've achieved. You've fulfilled our every wish for you. Well done. Look after your sister for me, please. The second matter is one of closure. If you remember back a year or so ago, both of us went away for a few weeks. We told you it was a second honeymoon, but in fact, we went away to TGEN labs for tests. As you know, they had mapped out the human genome and so had the best chance of explaining what had gone on all those years ago. The fourth letter is from one of their head researchers, James Shatner. When the results arrived, we debated long and hard what to do about it. In the end, we decided that ignorance was the best course of action, that to tell you too far in advance would cause you to worry. It might not happen anyway. Before I finish, I just want to tell you that I love you, and you have made my life a complete and happy one. I have no regrets over what happened, and I wish you well in whatever you do. All My Love Mom XXX' "Hmmm, I wonder what the letter will say and why she wanted it kept a secret? And what might not happen?" David said, sounding worried. "Let's find out," Jennifer said, taking the fourth letter and opening it. Jennifer started to read. 'Dear Mr and Mrs Williams, After much consultation with my colleagues here (EAB sends her regards, by the way) and long correspondence with other research labs around the world, I can now tell you the results of the tests you had and some theories surrounding what occurred in 1957. It is our opinion that the solar flare that struck the Earth on the 18th August 1957, added with the effects of exposure to gamma radiation, caused a situation where your DNA started to merge and gradually take over the other person's. Although we at TGEN have mapped the human genome, we are some way away from developing a system where it can be modified at will. I guess what I'm saying is that there is currently no way to reverse the situation. Sorry. Furthermore, there are signs that this genetic take-over is hereditary, and the children you have may be at risk of the same thing happening to them. They carry a combination of your DNA inside them, and it is possible and indeed likely that this DNA will resurface. In layman's terms, their DNA would be overwritten by yours. Your son David would physically (not mentally) become Vickie (of 40 years ago), and Jennifer would physically become Robert (also of 40 years ago). Although you thought this could be the case and that their puberty could cause the onset, the most likely time for this to occur would be the onset of the female menopause and the changes that occur in men around the same age.' David and Jennifer looked at each other and burst out laughing. Nine months later, it didn't seem very funny at all. End.Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/----http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11219.txt

Belfast Bloke

The Sauna

"Alan?" inquired Nina. "No... not at all," I stammered. As soon as I'd finished my sentence, Nina got down from where she was sitting and proceeded to pull her towel away from her body. She then re-tied the towel around her waist and sat down again. I almost had a heart attack when I saw the beauty of her magnificent breasts. Needless to say, she was one of the most beautiful women I'd ever seen in my life, and her breasts were sexy as hell. Almost as soon as I realized what had just happened, my cock began to grow faster and bigger than ever before. I was eager to touch Nina's breasts... even if it was the last thing I ever did. "You know," piped Katy after a short silence, "I think you're right - it is getting quite hot in here." She continued, "I might just lower my towel to my waist as well, if that's alright by you two." "Fine by me, Katy," said Nina, without delay. "Is that alright by you, Alan?" asked Katy. "What..." I said a little dazed. "Oh yeah; no problem, go ahead," I replied. I watched as one of the most beautiful teenagers I knew untied her towel from just above her breasts, then lowered it until it was around her waist. As with Nina, she finished the 'procedure' by re-tying the towel around her hips. By now, I was getting really 'worked-up' by sitting within a very small distance of two topless beauties in a sauna. I decided that I should pinch myself in the side, just to make sure I wasn't dreaming. Luckily for me, I wasn't! In order to attempt to confirm the fact that I wasn't dreaming, I chose to go and have a cold shower, as I was beginning to 'burn up' with the heat and the excitement. As I closed the door of the sauna behind me, I breathed a heavy sigh. I stood under the cool spray of the shower and tried to get my heartbeat down to a reasonable level. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to want to slow down at all. Within less than a minute, it was obvious my heart wasn't going to slow down for anyone that afternoon. With this in mind, I decided to go back to the heat of the sauna and the beauty of the two semi-nude young women. Not long after my return to the sauna, Nina started talking again. "You know, this heat is getting beyond a joke for me. I think I'll go and take a quick shower, if that's alright by you two," she said. "That's okay by me, Nina," stated Katy. "Not a problem with me either," I said. Soon after Nina had gone out the door for a 'quick' shower, Katy started asking me questions. "Well... what do you think of her, Alan?" asked Katy, anxiously. I couldn't help but let out a slight laugh at the question I'd just been asked. Of course, I thought Nina was one of the most beautiful young women I'd ever seen in my life, but I didn't know what to say to Katy. "She seems alright," I said. "Do you think she's sexy?" asked Katy. "No comment," I said, laughing. "Does that mean you fancy her?" Katy continued to quiz. "Aye, I'd say so," I retorted rather calmly, with a smile. As Nina walked back into the sauna, she noticed that both Katy and I were smiling. "What's wrong?" she asked. "Oh, nothing much," replied Katy, "We were just talking about you behind your back!" "I hope you weren't saying anything bad," said Nina. "Well..." I said slowly.

Part 2 of 4

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/8155.txt

HOTSCRIBE

The Treasure Box of Jasmin the Corsair

"Morgane, wake up! I believe we might be in trouble..." Even as I shook Morgane the Strong's powerful shoulder to awaken her from sleep, the tall warrior woman's fingers instinctively wrapped themselves around the handle of a longsword that lay on the ground beside her. Like a sleek panther, her muscular body in one smooth motion rose to stand beside me. Well over six feet, Morgane was a good three inches taller than I, but I liked it that way. We'd been together for almost a year now, adventuring with a party that included an elf, a bard and a dwarf; but now, for a time at least, we'd decided to travel the land of Darkwood together to see what treasures and adventures we could find. "What is it?" she asked as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes with her free hand. But I didn't have to elaborate any further. Already she'd noticed the band of thirteen or so brigands who'd apparently surrounded us as we slept in the heat of the afternoon. We didn't think any danger would be even close to approaching us. The territory was relatively free of monsters. But, apparently, not humans. Readying her blade, Morgane narrowed her eyes to slits and hissed through her teeth as a warning to the scruffy-looking pirates around us. But they made no indication that they were going to attack. Even so, I was already preparing a spell to help even the odds if they did, although I was quite sure that Morgane would have been able to handle them all by herself. She was gentle and warm in bed; but a strong and formidable opponent in battle. "What do you want?" she called out. None of the men answered. Instead, two of them parted slightly to allow a tall, lithe woman to pass. Even with the patch over her left eye, she was quite attractive. In contrast to Morgane's animal-skin garments, the other woman wore a white blouse with large puffy sleeves, skintight black pants and boots, and carried at least two or three pounds of jewelry in the form of necklaces, rings, brooches and belts. From her side hung a cutlass that, judging from the look of the woman, had seen many a victim's blood along its blade. "You're strangers in Darkwood," she observed, more a comment than a question. Morgane nodded. She introduced herself and me, telling the woman of our intentions of finding adventure. But she said nothing of locating treasure, something which all of the pirates before us were probably very keen on getting---at any cost. By the same token, I could almost see Morgane's eyes focusing on the jewelry the pirate woman wore. "I am called Jasmin the Corsair," announced the woman, "and these are my men." She waved at the unsavory lot of characters around us and I could tell she was fully in control of them. "Perhaps you would be interested in working for me, too...?" By now, Jasmin had ventured close enough for me to catch a whiff of her personal smell which, although it should have stunk as I'm sure the men did, was delightful of scent---reminding me of the fruit of the Blessed Isles. "...or, at least let us discuss it over dinner in my tent." "That we will most gladly do," replied Morgane, always one with a good and hungry appetite. "Then, follow me." CHAPTER: 2 Oddly enough, it seems that Morgane and I would have inevitably run into Jasmin's encampment later that day as it was on the route we were taking through Darkwood. There were five tents altogether and I assumed correctly that Jasmin dwelt in the one from which hung several brightly-colored flags, apparently stolen, I was later to find out, from some passing caravans. Once inside, I marveled at the beauty with which the corsair had obviously arranged everything---hanging silks, cushions, braziers and several small tables. In spite of the fact that she was a pirate, Jasmin certainly had an eye for decorating. A light incense wafted through the air and that, plus a hole in the top of the cone-shaped tent, helped dispel the smoke that rose from the burning lamps which helped give a soft light about the place. It was warm and cozy to be sure. Jasmin motioned for us to be seated. Several moments later, one of Jasmin's men entered with a sumptuous-looking plate of rare delectables---roasted mountain lizard surrounded by dozens of pan-fried scarlet horned beetles. The latter, I was quite sure, was not only a delicacy and hard to be obtained in these parts, but, if my memory served me right, was also an aphrodisiac. But of this fact I was not totally sure. "What type of work might you be offering us?" inquired Morgane, always one to ponder on the more mundane aspects of life and thinking, no doubt, about the gold she might be able to earn for her own pocket. As the man left, Jasmin handed the warrior woman and me each a goblet of wine. I sniffed it, tasted it slightly, recognized it as being an apparent selection from the southern vineyards of Valedon. "First you must help yourself to these victuals. To refuse would do me a great dishonor. Marduk has prepared them with great care. I'm sure you'll find them to your liking and quite liberating to the palate." Our hostess was indeed a well-spoken and literate woman. Morgane merely shrugged and grabbed several beetles. I heard the crunch of them between her teeth. Then, never one to bother with table etiquette, she yanked out her knife and sliced off a piece of lizard. It followed the beetles into her mouth. She wiped the resulting juices from her lips with the back of her hand. Being somewhat more refined, I sampled the lizard first, savoring its delicate taste---for I had not had such meat in a long time---then followed it with several beetles which, although the sound of them could grate on the nerves after awhile, nevertheless had a marvelous sweet-and-sour taste. "So--the work?" My darling Morgane---such a one-track mind! I shook my head in amusement. Jasmin scrunched a beetle, glanced up and down the warrior woman. "Tell me--where did you get such a wonderfully-built body?" It seemed a rather abrupt change of subject matter, and a very blunt question, but I'd noticed Jasmin had been admiring Morgane's body for some time. It's not uncommon for men to remark on its graceful bulk, but for a woman to say something is quite rare. "Grew up on a farm," replied Morgane. "When my parents were killed by outlaws, I joined a band of Amazons and they taught me the ways of war." She stuffed another slice of lizard, another beetle into her mouth. "I muffed ebryding aboud dem," she went on. Jasmin cracked a smile and frowned. "I beg your pardon?" Morgane swallowed, then shoved a finger in her mouth to dislodge a beetle leg stuck between her teeth. "Sorry. I said I loved everything about them---the Amazons. Their training, their hunting, their way of life. I miss it sometimes; it'd be nice to go back for awhile." "I thought they hated men," noted Jasmin with a slight smile and a sideways glance at me. Morgane caught the look and grinned at me. She patted my hand and said, "Ah, yes. But Solomon is special to me, aren't you, my dear? After all, I am not totally Amazonian in my ways." She winked at me and I smiled back. She certainly wasn't. "Is it true the Amazon women make love to each other?" inquired the corsair. "Of course. But when it came time to renew the tribe, it was necessary for them to mate with willing males in order for them to become impregnated with child. Baby girls were kept and reared as warriors. Baby boys were tossed aside to die, or some were kept as slaves---but with their legs broken---or else they were given back to their fathers, if they were known." "Seems rather barbaric to me," observed Jasmin. "Only doing what they deemed necessary." "And you---" continued Jasmin. "Did you make love to other Amazons?" "Of course," said Morgane off-handedly. "It was that, or else one sought self-satisfaction in other ways." "What either ways?" My body felt a little warm. Perhaps the tent was hot; perhaps it was the effect of the beetles; perhaps it was the conversation. "Wooden devices in the shape of the male member," answered the warrior woman. "But isn't that just a replacement for the feel of a man?" "Of course! But most men---except for my Solomon---don't know what to do with theirs except shove it in and out." I coughed to clear my throat. "And what about you?" I asked this of Jasmin.Since she seemed so interested in Morgane's sexual proclivities, I felt it was only fair to know hers. Jasmin lifted herself from the cushions and went to the opening of the tent. She looked out, muttered something to the guard there, then re-entered and began fastening the ties on the door flaps. "I have not had a man in a long time," she replied to my question. "But I have always wondered what it would be like to make love to another woman." Morgane and I sat quietly as Jasmin reached for a small box that lay hidden somewhere in the shadows. She opened it, showed its contents to us—a variety of rubies and sparkling gems that immediately caught Morgane's attention. Her eyes widened. "All this is yours," offered Jasmin, "if you will love me as you loved an Amazon." Morgane thought for a moment before she answered. "For that," she countered, "you can have me and Solomon!" Jasmin looked at me, wondering perhaps what I would be like as a lover since I had spoken barely a word all evening. But she came to a decision quickly enough. "It shall be as you wish." Morgane looked at me and spoke in her own language, words I understood quite well. Then I gestured at the floor of the tent. Immediately the dirt began to soften beneath the women's feet. Jasmin's face twisted into a curious look. "What are you doing?" she asked, trying to pull her feet out of the softening dirt. "Giving you that which you desire," replied Morgane. At which point, she suddenly reached out, grabbed Jasmin's blouse and tossed her effortlessly to the ground. By the time the corsair landed, it had already become mud. She splashed into it and let out a shriek of surprise. But by then Morgane was on top of her and both women wallowed around in the mud in a wrestling match the like of which Jasmin had never seen before and would probably remember for a long time to come. But I shall not bore you with details of that, nor of the love-making sessions which followed. It was quite evident that although she'd been surprised by Morgane's tactics, Jasmin enjoyed the mud wrestle. They grasped at each other, slid from each other, tried to hold on, but continued to slip through their holds. Morgane caught Jasmin's blouse and it shredded easily in her grasp. Up till then, I had been watching with amusement from my cushion. Then, before I realized what happened, Morgane caught the hem of my wizard's robe and yanked it forward. I flew through the air, hit Jasmin's legs and slid up her body till my face came to rest between her two marvelous globes. She giggled and grabbed Morgane's costume. The top came away and my warrior woman's magnificent breasts popped out and covered the back of my head. I struggled to free myself, but to no avail. The women soon had my robe off me. I struggled to escape the mud. But they caught me by the feet and pulled me back in. I grabbed Jasmin's boots and tugged them off, one by one. Morgane's strong hands caught her belt and ripped it from its buckle. Then she grabbed Jasmin's pants and jerked them down. Jasmin's white flesh shone momentarily in the soft light before being covered by the warm mud. I tore away Morgane's loincloth. Totally naked, the three of us tousled and writhed together for several long minutes. When at length we sat down, we stared at each other and laughed at the filthy condition we were all in. But I was prepared for that. I stood up and looked around the room. One of the women grasped my member—which by now had become hard—but it slipped from her grasp. Both of them laughed. "Not now," I reprimanded them. "I need to concentrate." I found what I was looking for—a small metallic bowl on one of the tables. I put it onto the floor, made some gestures with my hands, and the bowl grew in size until it was big enough to hold the three of us. Then I magically produced some hot water, and, from above, a cascading shower much like a waterfall. Jasmin marveled at the sight and laughed. "He's a handy man to have around!" she exclaimed. "Very handy indeed," replied my warrior woman. As we climbed into the tub, the waterfall washed the mud from our bodies and filtered over the side where it would magically disappear and be replaced by clean water. We sat down in the water. Morgane said to Jasmin, "Lie back." Jasmin set her arms on the edge of the tub to brace herself and let her body float gently in the water. Morgane and I flowed forward, she to one of Jasmin's breasts and I to the other. Both of us suckled on them, feeling the warmth of the water in our mouths and the hardening of the corsair's nipples. Then Morgane slid her lips up to Jasmin's mouth and kissed her solidly. Jasmin responded by wrapping her arms around Morgane's neck and kissing back. I got behind Jasmin, kissed her back and reached round with my hands to fondle and caress both their breasts that were pressed against each other in the water. I slid underwater, moved down and parted Jasmin's legs. Her mound of drenched hair floated gently above the water. I put my tongue out and caressed her tiny bud, then moved slightly and thrust it in and out of her most secret box. I felt her writhing in the water, and a moment later I saw Morgane's face appear above me. We spread Jasmin's legs further apart and as my tongue probed Jasmin's anus, Morgane used her tongue to slide from Jasmin's throbbing clitoris to the lips of her vulva. My lungs were not nearly as strong as my warrior woman's. As I surfaced for air, Jasmin rolled over, and Morgane with her, still administering tonguing to the corsair's genitals. Then Jasmin laid me back and took my hard member full into her mouth, gobbling hungrily upon the length of it as if she had not had such a meal in a long time—which, as she had said earlier, she had not. When Morgane finally surfaced for air, Jasmin had jerked several times in the throes of an orgasm. I magically caused the water to drain away, leaving us all still slippery and wet. Morgane knelt down on the floor of the tub and Jasmin positioned herself on Morgane's back (reaching under to grasp the warrior woman's breasts) and positioning herself so that both their velvet repositories were open to my gaze. I moved forward, thrust my hardened manhood first in Morgane, pumped for several times, then pulled out and slid into Jasmin to repeat the motion several times. Then feeling I could not do justice to both women at the same time, I gestured in the air and felt a wooden member very much in the shape of my own, only bigger, form into my hand. Now I muttered the words of the first spell I ever learned—stolen from a book of love spells so long ago—and my member swelled in size to match that of its wooden counterfeit. Thus I was able to plunge into one woman with my own rod and the other with my very capable replacement. In a short time, both women moaned and groaned and shuddered as their bodies came to an orgasm almost simultaneously. And, when I finally pulled out, Morgane—ever mindful of my own needs—turned and took me in her mouth, sucking diligently upon me, sharing my huge stalk with Jasmin until, at length, I burst my seed into their faces, Morgane opening her mouth and swallowing it as she had done the lizard and beetles earlier in the evening. Suffice it to say that Jasmin the Corsair was indeed most grateful for everything we did. True to her word, she gave us the contents of the treasure box and a standing invitation to return and spend more time with her at the encampment the next time we passed this way. Invariably we would. But for the moment, Morgane and I would press onwards through Darkwood, seeking still further adventures and still more treasures—of whatever kind they might be. The End

1

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/17985.txt

Andrew Roller

Dungeon of Desire

"SWISH! I yelped as her crop zinged into my flesh and made my bottom contract. Wishing I were anyplace but here, I felt a burning rod, like iron, impress itself into the tenderness of my skin. My bottom lurched out as the crop fell away. I howled, biting my lip, or trying, the gag blocking me. My derriere hung in the air, wriggling fiercely, my legs forcibly spread. About the only thing I could move was my fanny, and I made a great show of it, quite involuntarily, as I tried to throw off the sting of the crop. "Ah, yes, that's it! Put all your energy into your fanny!" Katy laughed. She stepped close and admired my wrigglings. "Imagine. You'd never do this in public, would you, my dear, drop your panties and show off your bottom so freely. Yet here you are, and I might invite in whomever I wish, the neighbors perhaps, and let them see you making a spectacle of your bottom!" I felt tears fill my eyes. Was she right? Was this really me? I'd always craved attention. I'd been teacher's pet in school, always wanting to be seen, and everyone always complimented me on how pretty I looked. Yes! No! My mind fought with itself. And I knew the answer. I wanted to show off my bottom like this, but I couldn't bring myself to do it alone. I had to be forced to do it. Sobs broke from me as I realized how naughty I was. "Mmmm, I'm afraid you're showing off your bottom TOO much, my dear!" Katy said. "Even I have some morals, you know. Look how you're flaunting that ass of yours!" "Yes! She's bad! She must be punished!" Jennifer, watching, said gleefully. "My dear, you're supposed to be in charge of the Binaca," Katy said to Jennifer. "I want you to get some out of the nightstand and spray it on Dick's penis and Kelly's nipples. Use the Peppermint. It's the worst!" "Okay!" Jennifer chortled. She ran to the nightstand as Katy, waiting to see my reaction to having breath spray squirted over my nipples, ran the loop of her crop between the cheeks of my ass. "Yes, it will be most delicious putting you through your paces," Katy said to me. "My, how little your asshole appears. I can't even push the loop of my crop into it! We'll have to jam something up your backside to make you properly open for Sauron. And yes, he is coming my dear. He's going to fuck you hard after I've punished you to make sure you never betray him again." I glanced frantically at Dick. Katy was jamming a crop against my anus and Jennifer, my former friend and now very much my enemy, was getting breath spray to torture my nipples with. Dick was a little frightened, I thought. He didn't like hearing that Sauron might visit us. They were mortal enemies, one a Citadel man and the other a graduate of Annapolis. Would Sauron revenge himself on Dick? After all, it would be no difficult thing to put a knife between Dick's legs and relieve him of his testicles. Or his penis, for that matter. I hoped and prayed that Jennifer and Katy loved Dick as much as they said they did, for otherwise he was doomed. "Time for another little bee on your bottom," Katy told me. She stepped back as Jennifer retreated behind the wall to torture my nipples. I hung waiting. My vulva lay swollen between my legs. It was my undoing, I knew, yearning for men and yearning to dance and to be pierced in the dance. CRACK! Katy let fly her crop. It sizzled across my bottom, making me lunge into the wall, slamming and crushing my large breasts against the plywood, then falling back, groping at the air with the burning open-faced cheeks of my bottom. "Yes, show me your ass!" Katy laughed as I wriggled it hotly on the air. At the same time Jennifer, eager to enhance my suffering, squirted Binaca on my nipples. A peppermint scent caught my nose as my teats felt warm and then, moments later, began to burn as if they'd been lit by a lighter. "No!" I cried through my gag, muffled, brazenly offering my bottom to the air, to Katy, who drew the crop over her hand, waiting, watching, enviously admiring my slim well-formed figure. "Now you must have at least one more before I start in on your boyfriend," Katy told me. "But I want this one to leave a nice weal. I want you to be sitting on it when you leave here, remembering me for days to come. Are you ready, my dear?" I shook my head no. She laughed. "Of course. We girls are never ready, are we? We tease boys and lure them but in the end they have to take down our panties for us, with us protesting, no doubt, and break our hymen for us. Because we're girls, isn't that right? We must be forced. It's why God gave men muscles. Tighten your cheeks if you wish, dear. Brace yourself. Katy is going to give you a weal to remember her by!" And then she did. The crop came in doubly-hard, she using all her might as if she were employed by Singapore, and I felt a red-hot iron-like sting as the thin crop slammed into my flesh. I flew forward, banging my hips against the plywood. I fell back, caught by my bonds that held my wrists tight, falling back bottom first into the ever-cool air of the dungeon. Sobs rent my body, shaking my breasts like gourds on a tree, their stems trapped in the wall. I felt my ribs heave. I shook my bottom like a dog emerging from water, except I was emerging from fire. Katy left me. She went to Dick. I was nothing now, just a crying, sobbing wench, getting her just desserts for betraying her master. I hoped, bad girl that I was, that someone still paid attention, that Sauron was somewhere upstairs watching all this from a camera. "Good afternoon, Dick! How is your dick? I see your bottom's awfully white!" Katy laughed. She reached between my boyfriend's legs and squeezed his balls hard to get his attention. "Ah yes! Now you acknowledge me a little more clearly, dear Man!" Katy crowed. "Did you ever consider shaving your balls? They're awfully hairy, you know. You men like seeing girls in porno mags with their pussies shaved. Well, what about equal rights, hmmm? If we have to shave our vulvas you men should at least shave your balls, I say!" Katy gave him another good squeeze, just to make sure he was listening. Men have big muscles and think they can just do as they will. But a girl's fist on a man's balls wins the day every time. "Don't worry, Dick. There's a straight razor down here someplace. I'll get a nice batch of cream whipped up and then we'll apply it to your balls and scrape it off. You'll be fresh as a daisy when I'm done!" She laughed, stepped back, and gave him a sharp crack on his ass with her crop. Dick grunted. He could barely move his ass, with his penis trapped in the wall. Instead he tensed all his muscles, making them ripple, showing his strength. He thrashed in his bonds as Katy, in awe of his grippingly-taut bottom cheeks, gave them another swift smack. Dick yanked on his bonds ferociously. I had no doubt why. That skinny crop hurt! Dick tried to yank down the chains and he rammed his chest against the plywood wall, trying to break it. Katy struck again."Dick roared like a lion at the pain. Yet the plywood wall held firm, oblivious to his struggles. Sauron had done a good job of building it. CATALOG REVIEW by holy joe Airshop, Spring 1998, free. Half-legal sized catalog. 36 slick, full-color pages. Web: http://www.air-shop.com Review: A few issues back, I declared publicly my belief that God is an 8-year-old girl. I guess I must have been right, because wonderful things have been happening to me ever since! First, I was able to buy myself a new pair of underpants. Next, I found out about David Hamilton. And now, this shows up in the mail. What a find this catalog is! If you want to know what David Hamilton's girls look like with their clothes on, check this out! There are a few cute girls in this catalog. There are also lots of 'so-so' girls, and some downright awful-looking ones. But at least there's nobody here in this catalog over 14! What's really great about this catalog is the clothes. The design of the clothes, and the catalog itself, seems to be a mix of 1960's fashions and cyberspace. I guess the new motto for America in the late 90's is: sex, drugs, rock n' roll, and the Net! (Plus oral sex.) I have no objection, of course. I was really sick of straight-laced yuppie feminism. It got downright awful as the former 'flower children' of the 60's, once beautiful young girls, passed over that 50-years-old mark. THANK GOD some fresh air is finally blowing through America. Allow me to make a recommendation as to what sort of clothing someone reading this catalog should buy. I'm no expert on girls or their clothes, but I have read tons of porno magazines, so maybe that counts as a qualification. I recommend the "Velour Hoodie," on page 33. This great garment lets you look safe and protected in a hood, pulled up over your head, while at the same time showing off your belly-button! What a great idea. Of course, equally attractive is the tight t-shirt being worn by a girl on the same page. Guys have been known to lust over girls with high, firm, growing tits, wearing t-shirts so small they look like they're leftover from elementary school. These same guys have told me that such a shirt looks especially sexy if the sleeves on the shirt are too short. If you're a guy, you'll enjoy reading this catalog, not just looking at it. Salivate over this: "Sheer ivory mesh bikini panties" (pg. 27). Despite all the good things that have happened to me, I know my life is going to get even better. Do you want to know why? Because right here on page 22 of this catalog, it says, "Every 4 seconds a girl speaks her mind to an uninformed guy." Yes! Talk to me, girls! My ears are open! (and my zipper too.) NAKED AT THE NEWSSTAND by holy joe Cheerleaders, $6.99. Magazine, many full-color pages. Cheerleaders, 462 Broadway, Suite 4000, New York, NY 10013. No web site listed. Review: This magazine has surfaced under various names, "Babe" being one of them. Now the publishers are trying again, with a much catchier title and concept: "Cheerleaders." I was very impressed by this first issue. What a delight it is to see a pictorial begin with a girl decked out in a cheerleader costume! I never realized there was so much erotic potential in those costumes. How lovely it is to see a girl all neatly attired in her cheerleading outfit. Then, when you turn the page, your hands already trembling with lust, you see her begin to undress! Cheerleaders, majorettes, all the girls you lusted over in school but didn't get to bed are finally stripped naked here! Even better, there's fun between cheerleaders in this issue! Lisa and Michelle watch with regret as their team loses the big game. But they don't blame the players. They blame themselves. They go back to the locker room and agree that if they'd done a better job cheering, their guys wouldn't have lost. There's only one answer. They both need a spanking! Michelle decides to go first. She bends over. She pulls up her skirt. Then, using her hand, Lisa whacks her bottom! These are spoilt girls, though, from an upper class neighborhood. Lisa, a well-brought up girl, immediately regrets hurting her friend's bottom. She pulls open Michelle's panties. She blows on her tender ass. (No! I'm not making this up! It really happens!) Lisa and Michelle decide that, even if it is their fault that their team lost, a spanking's just too severe a thing for them to endure. Besides, the football team's too busy moping to ask either of them out. So, not wanting to do without, they decide to lick each other to orgasm. Afterward, Lisa checks Michelle's bottom to make sure it's okay. Ahhhhhhhh! I hope Cheerleaders shows cute girls spanking each other in every issue! Cassandra, page 56, is a real treat! She looks like she just stepped out of a book by David Hamilton except, being a little older, she gets to be sexier. She's wonderfully young. She has very long legs. She shows off her pom-poms while at the same time making a bold display of her bush. Her bosoms are small, but her nipples are temptingly stiff. And if you'd like to know what her butthole looks like, you're in luck! She opens her small, tight bottomcheeks very wide. As the headline over her pictorial says, "No man's safe when I wear my cheerleading outfit!" Indeed! If you love short skirts, white panties, and naughty girls, this is a great magazine! I would recommend the following to the publishers for future issues: 1. A shower scene, with lots of 'helpful' scrubbing, kisses, and soap squirted where the sun doesn't shine. Don't let the girls get wet too quickly. Draw it out. And keep the hair on their heads dry until the very last photo. 2. A baby pool scene. When the shower breaks, it's time to soap up in an inflatable baby pool! 3. A champagne celebration, after a winning game. 4. A 'spanking party.' 5. The girls brushing their teeth, and each other's teeth. 6. A candy sale, to raise money for the football team. (Too bad the girls eat all of it!) (Be sure to include long strands of licorice.) (If any help is needed explaining these ideas, just send me a plane ticket!) DINNER PARTY by Cuyler Brown The light is sparse that glows from the severed heads that hang like chandeliers in the hallway to the attic. I manage to find the door it fizzles cotton candy in my mouth and the stairs cringe kissing my boots one at a time till I reach the darkness and a rat grown fat on spiders invites me to a table to join in the feast and stuff myself full of regret. Everyone is there and I am happy one by one they tell me why. AND IN THE END... "If, moreover, the people are enabled to read, criticism, the sole property of the scholars, will come into their hands, and when they once learn self-reliance from their new intellectual development they are certain to attack dogma and political oppression, even at the risk of martyrdom. The princes and patrons of Italy are intelligent enough to know that their self-centered political power is doomed if the new art of printing secures a firm foothold." - William Dana Orcutt, In Quest of the Perfect Book, pg. 13. "What a relief to such a man as Aldus when it became fully demonstrated that the desire on the part of the people to secure books in order to learn was too great to be overcome by official mandate or insidious propaganda!" - William Dana Orcutt, In Quest of the Perfect Book, pg. 13.

Chapter Four

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/9456.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. 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 undone 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 voyeur 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 chorus of moans and gasps were coming from the three individuals as the action got even more heated and passionate. Cindy was doing her best to swallow Kris' monster cock right down her greedy little throat. At the same time, Shawn was feasting on the sweet recesses of Cindy's juicy pussy. Kris had already come to the conclusion that Cindy was giving him the best blowjob of his entire life. No one had ever given him a blowjob any better than this one, and she wasn't even finished yet. However, Kris brought the blowjob to a close when he could no longer contain himself.His cock erupted in her mouth, filling it with gush after gush of thick sperm. Kris sighed deeply at the discharge and was amazed at the same time by Cindy as she sucked and swallowed his fuck-juice down her hungry throat. Still getting her pussy eaten from behind, Cindy slipped Kris' shaft out of her mouth and lovingly licked away at it. Kris gasped at the sight of Cindy's beautiful face as streams of cum dripped and dangled from it. "Did you like that?" she squealed at him. "Oh yeah," he sighed in return. "Oh, I loved it, baby. That was the best fucking blowjob of my life!" Cindy smiled and giggled, happy to draw such praise for her sexual skills. "I'm gonna fuck that sweet pussy of yours," Shawn said, as he withdrew his lips and tongue from her slit. But just when he was about to get himself into the doggie-style position, Shawn was yanked away by Alex. Shawn looked at him, angry. "HEY MAN! What are you doing?" "You and Kris have already sampled her," Alex told him. "Now, it's my turn. You can fuck her later, but I'm going to fuck her NOW." Alex had already stripped off his shirt and pants, and his cock was at full erection. He dropped to his knees behind Cindy as she stood on her hands and knees, then fisted his cock and nudged it against her pussy. Cindy squealed at the sensation - this was the first time a cock other than David's had touched her pussy since they started dating more than six years ago. Alex grunted as he popped his erection into Cindy's tiny, slick pussy. In response, the young woman squealed again, surprised at the sensations swirling throughout her. Alex's cock was definitely bigger than her husband's, she thought to herself. As a result, Cindy was going to enjoy this. On an adjacent chair, Tyrone felt very jealous. For the first time in his life, he really wished that his skin color was white instead of black. He wanted to get a piece of Cindy for himself, but figured she would not go for it. After all, no white woman had ever been attracted to him. He figured that before the day was through, Cindy would take care of the other guys in the room - all of whom were white. Unfortunately, Tyrone figured, he would be left in the cold. Shawn sat still, fuming, as he watched while Alex started to pump his cock in and out of Cindy's pussy. He knew that should have been him fucking her now - not Alex. But Shawn knew that there were other parts of Cindy's body which he could explore and play with, while Alex pounded her pussy. Thus, Shawn crawled around until he was sitting in front of Cindy, who was still in the doggie-style position, her body rocking back and forth in tune with Alex's thrusting hips. Shawn reached underneath her, then palmed her large breasts with his hands. Cindy looked up at him and grunted, then offered a charming smile. "My, what a fine pair you have," Shawn said as he pulled the tight top up, exposing her large breasts. Shawn tilted his head and stared at the twin pair, liking the sight of an erect nipple topping each of them. Then, using his thumbs and index fingers, he pinched both nipples. Cindy squealed in passionate delight - she loved all this attention! As Shawn continued to pay homage to Cindy's breasts, Alex kept up the pace by pounding into her from behind. He had his hands firmly planted on her bottom as he thrusted his cock in and out of her pussy, in the classic doggie-style position. Alex drilled her with all of his strength, his hips pumping back and forth harder and faster than he even previously thought possible. David sat on the sofa, with the same stunned expression as before. His cock was so hard in his pants that it hurt. The repeated loud SLAPping sound, caused by Alex's heavy balls hitting Cindy's upturned ass, reverberated throughout David's ears and mind. Watching his beautiful, angel wife get hammered like this was the most exciting thing which had ever happened to him. "I'M GONNA CUM!" Cindy screamed as Alex continued pumping into her from behind, while Shawn still pinched her nipples. "CUM WITH ME!" Alex exclaimed. "LET'S CUM TOGETHER!" Both individuals roared out in unequaled passion as they experienced mutual orgasms. Alex pumped his thick seed into Cindy's willing pussy, mixing it with her own release. The two shuddered together in shared lust for several seconds, until Alex pulled away. Next, the 25-year-old woman collapsed upon the floor, her breathing ragged and heavy. As Shawn caressed Cindy's long, silky blonde hair, David finally got up from the sofa and rushed over to his wife. "Are you okay, sweetheart?" he insisted, fearful that she may be hurt. After all, she had collapsed upon the floor and was gasping for breath. He had never seen her this way after a sexual encounter. "I'm okay," Cindy managed, in response to his question. "But I'd feel a lot better if I could have some more cock!" David's jaw almost hit the floor because of her lewd comment. She usually did not talk that way. Cindy's head rose from the floor and she looked at her husband. "Hmmm, three guys have had me already. You have four friends here... which one am I missing?" She glanced around the room and gasped once her blue eyes found Tyrone. Tyrone gasped as well - due to the lust-ridden eyes which Cindy intently stared at him with. Was a beautiful white woman actually hot for him? "What do you think about white pussy?" Cindy squealed as she rose to her knees. She started moving toward Tyrone, a sexy smile on her face. "Have you ever had sex with a white woman before?" Suddenly, Tyrone's cock was bigger than it ever had been before. He never dreamed of that this scenario would take place for real - not even in his wildest fantasies. "Ma'am," the polite-sounding man said. "I've never been with a white girl before - sexually speaking." Still walking on her knees toward him, Cindy flashed a charming smile and said, "Would you like to?" "HONEY!" David exclaimed. "You want to have sex with Tyrone, too?" "Why not?" Cindy giggled. "I've always had a thing for black men." She made her way up to Tyrone and stared directly into his eyes. "I find black men... ATTRACTIVE." Tyrone gasped in utter shock at her comment. "I... I... I'd love to have sex with you..." he mumbled. Tyrone's body stiffened and he sighed as Cindy reached for his belt buckle and unlooped it. She whipped his belt off, then nearly tore open his trousers. With her right hand, she fished his erect shaft out from within a pair of boxers, and squeezed it. "Oooooh, black cock..." Cindy squealed as she eyed and held the huge monster. The young woman gave the tip of his shaft a lick and added, "I've always wanted a black cock..." All of the other men in the room watched with amazement as Cindy's mouth opened and then closed over Tyrone's giant cock. They had never witnessed interracial sex before, but were quickly becoming a fan of it. Of particular interest was the strict contrast of Cindy's white face and blonde hair as they hovered over Tyrone's throbbing black shaft. The extreme contrast in color nearly blew the men away. For the longest time, Tyrone had dreamed of one day having sex with a beautiful white woman - especially one with long blonde hair. Now, that dream was quickly becoming a definite reality for him. Tyrone sighed in lust as Cindy worked his shaft over with her fabulous mouth and tongue. She sucked and slurped away at his slab of man-meat as if it was her sole purpose in life. Tyrone reached down and placed his hand on top of her head, then lovingly caressed her long blonde hair as she bobbed up and down over his massive member. While twirling his testicles between her fingertips, Cindy looked up into Tyrone's eyes and smiled as she continued sucking him off. Tyrone grinned at her in return, then shook his head in wonder. Cindy was his "dream girl". There was no doubt about it. "I want you to fuck me," the young lady squealed, rising to her feet and then settling down in his lap. Tyrone's heartbeat went into extreme overdrive as Cindy positioned his cock over her heated pussy. The other men watched with awe as Tyrone's black shaft slid up between the folds of Cindy's white thighs. The blonde let out a squeal once the cock was in her all the way, then she wrapped her arms around Tyrone's neck and vibrated in lust. In no time flat, Cindy was bouncing up and down upon Tyrone's prick. Their rhythmic fucking started slow, but steadily grew faster and harder. Tyrone had his hands at Cindy's waist, grasping it, while she continued to ride him. The others could easily see that the man's massive cock stretched Cindy's pussy lips to the absolute max. David wondered to himself if such a large cock would hurt her... but apparently not. He could tell by the lustful expression upon her face that Cindy was enjoying every single moment of having Tyrone's huge cock stuffed in her pussy. The intense action between the two lust-lovers hit a fever pitch, then things started to slow down. Tyrone screamed at the very top of his lungs while jettisoning a fresh batch of cum into Cindy's hungry pussy. In response, the wife-turned-slut buried her face against Tyrone's shoulder and shuddered, experiencing an orgasm of her own. "HONEY!" David exclaimed seconds later, once his wife finally slipped out of Tyrone's lap. "HONEY!" Not only was Cindy's face covered with sperm, but it was also sliding down her tanned thighs like a waterfall. "Honey, I didn't know that you had that type of sexual appetite!" Cindy giggled and shrugged her shoulders. "I didn't either... until now." She let out a content sigh. David looked at his wristwatch. "You only got an hour or so until the audition starts. I know you really need this part... but there's no way you could make it there in time. Look at you... you're a mess!""You have to wash up!" "Screw the audition!" Cindy exclaimed, dropping to her knees in front of David. She reached for his pants and undid them, saying, "Who needs a job when they could fuck five hot studs instead?" Giggling with lust, Cindy slid David's hard cock between her lips and started sucking on it eagerly. Instead of watching football, David's friends knew they had something better to do on Sunday afternoons from now on. "Cindy's Audience" [THE END]

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/10451.txt

Wulf: Nemesis

"Ohhhhh..." Lady Vaenetha began to moan almost before the first Dark Elf's tongue touched her naked vulva. Daedora fancied she could see goosebumps rising on the thighs of the bound elf woman, but perhaps it was her imagination. Not her imagination was the intense licking the elf began to receive from her two ebon lovers. First the male, then the female, lavished attention on Vaenetha's cunt, first stroking and licking the shaved outer lips, then slowly stroking them open to reveal the soft, moist flesh beneath. Then the male held her open with long, slender fingers, allowing the female to lap at the elf woman's inner lips, and nibble briefly at the silver ring that pierced her clit. Vaenetha responded to this in a fashion that would have made her relatives back in the Isles hide their faces in shame. Her moans rose, building toward a shriek, and she tugged at her bonds, straining her wrists against the black leather cuffs. Her pink, pierced nipples swelled up of their own accord, rising and falling with the increased rhythm of the captive elf's feverish breath. "See, my kindred?" Thae'Lynn said, walking closer and gesturing toward the elf. "See how she enjoys the attentions of her new lovers, how she revels in the forbidden sensations of Zhalha'sarr'im tongues against the yearning flesh of her throbbing pearl? How she wants more? You do want more, don't you, my dear?" Vaenetha nodded, lips parted, eyes begging. "Yes. More. More, please." Her enthusiasm seemed genuine, for all could see the quickening of her breaths, and the swelling of both her pink nipples and the prominent bud of her clitoris. Then the dark elf woman encircled Vaenetha's clit with her lips and sucked gently, but with increasing pressure. "Ohhhhh. Oh." The golden-haired elf's moans grew even louder. She licked her lips again, and pursed them, as if searching for something to place them against. "She wants to suck something, does she? What a slutty little elf she is." Thae'Lynn addressed the male dark elf. "Go give the elf whore something, Navan." Navan obliged, standing to reveal a growing erection, and offering it to the distraught Vaenetha. Hands still bound, she allowed the male to slip his member between her full red lips. Her moans continued, though muffled, as Navan began to slide his prick in and out of her mouth, growing steadily harder and larger with each stroke. Between Vaenetha's legs, the silver-haired female was still busy, her tongue pointed, lapping at the stiffening clit, then stopping to bite and tug at the silver ring that pierced it. The effect was to increase the tenor of Vaenetha's moans, and quicken her feverish breaths, even as Navan's thrusts into her mouth grew faster and more insistent. "Suck him, whore," Thae'Lynn said, moving closer, running her hands against her own breasts. "Suck his nice, hard cock until he comes. Fuck her mouth, Navan." Navan seized Vaenetha's head, grabbing great handfuls of golden hair, yanking her down on the black shaft of his cock, thrusting in and emerging gleaming with Vaenetha's saliva. It only excited the elf woman more. She dragged at her bonds, and squeezed the female's head between her thighs, her groans becoming screams, rising and falling with each thrust of the male's cock, with each stroke of the female's tongue, then redoubled as the female plunged two fingers inside her, slipping between the swollen pink lips of her cunt. "Mmmm," groaned Navan. "Unnn... Yes..." "Make him come," Thae'Lynn urged, moving closer, ignoring her audience, barking commands into the elf woman's ears. "Suck him like the slut you are, and make him come in your mouth. Understand me, elf whore?" Vaenetha's eyes widened, and she nodded, sucking faster at the now fully-erect black cock. "See how she obeys?" Thae'Lynn said. She'd slipped a hand beneath her gown and was busy at one nipple. "Watch the little elf whore make him come." "Come," whispered Vaenetha, urgently. "Come now. My mistress... mmm... my mistress bids it..." "Ahhhh..." moaned Navan. The pace of his thrusting grew, and a look of intense concentration contorted his face. "Ahhh..." "Mmmm." Vaenetha's voice was muffled by the hard cock in her mouth. She released him. "Come for my mistress." "Ahhhh..." The dark elf went rigid, the stiff black member contracting, spurting hot white semen across the elf woman's pale face. Her tongue flicked rapidly, licking up the sticky white fluid. "Lick it up, slut," hissed Thae'Lynn. "Tell everyone that you're a little elf slut." "I'm a little elf slut, mistress," Vaenetha replied, semen trailing from her red lips. Between her legs, the female dark elf was still busy, spittle and cunt juice gleaming on her face. "I'm... I'm..." "Are you coming, little elf slut?" "Ahhh... Mistress... I'm... I'm..." Vaenetha flushed pink, then red, and her body shook. "Ahhh. I'm... I'm your slut, mistress. Your slave..." "Coming now?" "Coming now, mistress. Your slave is coming..." She convulsed again, dragging her wrists against the restraints, squeezing the dark elf female's head between her thighs. "I... I want... I want..." "What do you want, slut?" "I want to be fucked, mistress." Another convulsion. "I want to be fucked like a slut." "Hm." Thae'Lynn motioned at the two dark elves. "Stop pleasuring this slut. It's my turn now." Dutifully, Vaenetha's lovers stepped back and melted into the shadows. The elf woman moaned briefly in frustration. Thae'Lynn pointed to Yawesha'ae, who glided forward, head bowed, to loosen the fastenings of her gown. In a single motion, Thae'Lynn let it slide to the floor, and stood before the gathering, naked black flesh accented by gleaming silver rings in her navel, and a host more dangling and glinting between her thighs. Yawesha'ae stepped behind her, removing combs and hair sticks, and a moment later the Duchess' silvery tresses tumbled down her back like a gleaming waterfall. Thae'Lynn dismissed her slave, who returned to a submissive kneeling posture nearby. She turned to the assembled dark elves, who continued to gape in silent awe. She spread her arms wide, breasts riding up, ribs standing out starkly against her dark skin. "See her, brothers and sisters?" she said again, motioning toward Vaenetha, who sagged in her bonds, momentarily sated, sweat gleaming on her face, shoulders and breasts. Her nipples were heavily swollen, and the chain between them grew taut with each fevered breath, eliciting a faint moan of desire from the elf woman's wet, parted lips. "She is ours, body and soul. She will do whatever her mistress wishes. She wants her mistress to fuck her like the little elf slut that she is. Don't you, pet?" Vaenetha nodded rapidly, biting her lower lip. "Yes, mistress. Yes, mistress. I want you to fuck me like a slut." "Hm." Thae'Lynn gestured and now Mazzor approached, bearing a carved onyx box. "My daemon lover has a certain item here which you might all find interesting." The winged monster opened the box and prodded a finger inside. There was motion, and a curious object emerged, crawling like a dark insect. Its initial appearance was that of a set of male genitalia supported by six crab-like legs. "An ancient automaton, created before the Great Catastrophe," Thae'Lynn said. "See what it does, brothers and sisters." With that, the nightmarish contraption scuttled from Mazzor's hands over to Thae'Lynn, and up her leg. In a swift motion, the automaton seemed to elongate, growing in two directions at once -- one side grew into a simulacrum of an erect penis, long and thick, while the other end stretched into a second, smooth cylinder of flesh. Thae'Lynn closed her eyes and sighed as the thing slipped its legs around her thighs, and the smooth end slid between them, sliding past the jingling silver rings that pierced her labia, then slipping smoothly inside her. The thing then moved one last time, its edges blurring, merging with the flesh of Thae'Lynn's abdomen, thighs and cunt. "It's part of me now," Thae'Lynn breathed. "And now, look at it." Now, emerging from Thae'Lynn's crotch was a heavy black phallus, thick-headed and slightly curved. This was no artificial device, hard and lifeless, attached by straps -- this seemed truly fused with Thae'Lynn's flesh, responsive as a real penis. "We're working to duplicate these now," the Duchess said. "We'll have them available for sale in a few months." There was an audible gasp from the female dark elves who, having long since tired of trying to instill passions in their bloodless male cohorts, saw endless possibilities in the new device."Now," breathed Thae'Lynn, her voice tight against the all-filling sensation of her new organ, "now, the little elf slut can be fucked." Lady Vaenetha's eyes widened, and a look of mindless desire brightened her face. "Fuck me, mistress," she sighed. "Fuck me with your big cock." Thae'Lynn stepped toward her, the new phallus before her like a rigid polearm. "I'll fuck you, elf slut," she said, climbing astride the platform and crawling toward her captive. "No fear. It's how I'll fuck you that's the question." "Any way you want," Vaenetha pleaded, and all watching knew that her plea was sincere. "Fuck me any way you want. Put that cock anywhere you want." Now Thae'Lynn was poised above Vaenetha, her silver hair cascading down onto both of them. Her pierced nipples grazed the silver rings in the elf-woman's breasts, making quiet metallic sounds. Thae'Lynn reached down and stroked the head of her erect cock against Vaenetha's moist cunt-lips. "Want it?" Thae'Lynn demanded in a whisper audible to everyone watching. "Want it?" "I want it," Vaenetha replied. "I want it." "You have come all over your face," Thae'Lynn said, and licked at Vaenetha's semen-streaked cheek. "I think you need some more." "I want your come on me," Vaenetha said. "I want your cock to come all over me." "I will, slut, I will." With that, Thae'Lynn slipped the oversized head of the artificial cock between Vaenetha's cunt-lips and thrust into her with a single, violent motion. "Ahhhhhhh..." the elf's cry, mixing pain and exultation, echoed in the high-roofed chamber. "Ah, mistress... Oh, it's so big..." "And you'll take it all, won't you, bitch?" Thae'Lynn demanded, and began to drive, thrusting in and out. "Take all of this big beautiful cock in that hot, wet cunt. Take it all and love it." "Yes, mistress... Yes, beloved mistress..." "Say you love it." "I love it, mistress. I love your big, beautiful cock... Ohhh... You're making me come again..." Vaenetha writhed against Thae'Lynn, white flesh against black, large pale breasts against Thae'Lynn's smaller ebon ones, hips grinding as the dark elf's gracefully curved buttocks thrust again and again in ever-increasing rhythm. Thae'Lynn began to moan incoherently as well, her words becoming a meaningless blur. The thing inside her must have attached to her in a manner more than purely physical, for the excitement was genuine, and her groans clearly those of a woman on the verge of mind-blasting orgasm. "Ahhhh..." Thae'Lynn gasped. "It makes me come. It makes me come as a woman and as... as a man... Gods and daemons... fuck... fuck..." "Harder! Please!" Vaenetha's cries rose to a fevered pitch of unthinking desire, as if the entirety of her existence hung upon pleasing the black-skinned woman above her, as if they were now both the same creature, an amalgam of male and female, of light and dark, of dominance and submission. "Fuck me harder... Oh... Ohhhh..." Another series of orgasms wracked the golden-haired woman, and her legs twined around Thae'Lynn, pumping along with the dark elf, pulling the now-gleaming black cock into her even faster, thrusting harder and deeper with each stroke. "I'm coming. Coming for you, mistress.... Ohhhhhh...." Vaenetha flung her head back, hair flying, cheeks flushed. "I... come... for... you..." Thae'Lynn had reached her limit as well, for she pulled out abruptly and jumped astride Vaenetha's torso, stroking the long black cock with her hands. The automaton contracted, jetting white across the elf woman, splashing her face again, splattering across her proffered tongue. "Oh, mistress," Vaenetha whispered. "Oh, sweet mistress..." "Good little slut," replied Thae'Lynn, stroking the woman's semen-covered face, then licking her fingers. "Good little slut." Then she turned and stepped off the platform, allowing Yawesha'ae to towel the sweat and semen from her body. The automaton, spent for the moment, slithered from her and slipped to the floor, where Mazzor retrieved it and returned it to its box. Their part in the pageant completed, the high elves resumed their hoods, recovered the litter, swiftly and obediently withdrawing into the darkness. A moment later, Thae'Lynn's other attendants likewise vanished, leaving her, alone and still naked in the center of the multitude, her face a mask of self-satisfaction and arrogance. She threw her head back and again spread her arms wide, breasts bobbing up, twinkling brightly. "Sisters and brothers, hear me!" she shouted. "You have seen what I have done. Our arrogant cousins are reduced to humiliating submission and serve me! Has any of our people done such a thing before?" The silence which welled up in the chamber seemed to answer "no." Even the Prince was silent, wondering what the Duchess' next words would be. "I have led our people before," she continued, "and, yes, we have failed. But with each failure we learn more. Listen to me, sisters and brothers -- I offer to lead you again, lead you to a glorious destiny that is assured. I stake my life upon it." "And if you fail, what then?" demanded a voice from House Yaleatta. "More death and suffering for our people, and you washing your hands of responsibility?" "Nay, sister," Thae'Lynn shot back. "I said I would stake my life upon it, and I do. If I lead you again and fail, my life is forfeit, and the Prince may take it as he chooses." The Prince himself looked impressed, and nodded as if to urge Thae'Lynn to continue. "Our people live and scheme in shadow," she said. "We creep unseen and work mischief in secret. This need not end now, and what I propose involves virtually no risk of shedding Zhalha'sarr'im blood. All our work will be done by others, and when they have finished, we will simply claim what is ours by right!" "Fine words!" barked Duchess Kyla Nendotha. "Your deeds have yet to match them, Lady!" "As I said, sister," Thae'Lynn replied in a low, determined voice, "should I fail, my life belongs to the Prince and to this council. I will not fail." "And what new price do you ask from your long-suffering people?" Nendotha persisted. Thae'Lynn nodded sagely, as if this was the question which she had been waiting for. "Long ago, before we were exiled to this barren rock of a continent," she said, "our people had an office called In'choreta, or 'Protector.' The protector led her people in war and crisis in the name of the King or Queen, and her word was law. We have not had a Protector in ten thousand years, but today I beg the Prince's indulgence, and ask that he award me that office for a probationary period of one year. If after that time I have not performed to his satisfaction, I will voluntarily step down and accept any punishment he deems fit." There was a moment of stunned silence, then the chamber burst forth in a confused babble of voices. The naming of Protector was one of the few powers that the Prince retained, and as Thae'Lynn said, it had not been used in millennia. The notion of using it now... At last, a single voice rose above all the others and with a shock Daedora realized that it came from her Aunt Shadera. "She demands absolute power, and says she will voluntarily give it up!" she shouted. "She asks that we hand her the crown, keys and sceptre, on a vague promise of glory! Lady Thae'Lynn is either mad or a fool, and I will follow neither!" Another chaos of voices rose up, some shouting in agreement, others screaming defiance. In the center of the chamber, Prince Tyreth and two advisors spoke with Thae'Lynn and spoke back and forth with growing urgency. After several long moments, in which several scuffles broke out between opposing households, the Prince stepped forward, raising his hands for peace. "Silence!" he shouted. "Silence now! I will speak to Lady Thae'Lynn's request!" The Prince's guards finally had to step in to restore order, and soon the chamber was quiet once more, though black glances between rival groups continued. Beside Daedora, her aunt fumed and her uncle looked fearful. "The Duchess of Darkoak Hill asks that we name her In'choreta," Prince Tyreth said. "While it is true that her plans up to now have proved less than successful, her intent was admirable, and only chance and treacherous allies thwarted us. She has told me what she plans, and I find it both reasonable and feasible. With the understanding that she will voluntarily relinquish the office in one year should she fail, we hereby name Lady Thae'Lynn N'Quy our In'choreta, Protector of the Zhalha'sarr'im realms!" If the previous noise had been loud, what followed was deafening. More than half the assembled households raised their voices in agreement and proclamation, shouting long life to the Prince and glory to Lady Thae'Lynn. Others stood, shocked or contemplative, waiting to see the outcome of the discussion before choosing sides. A few brave few actually cried out in protest, trying to shout down the now-overwhelming exultation supporting the Tyreth and Thae'Lynn. Among these was Aunt Shadera. "No!" she shouted, an edge of desperation in her voice. "Once given the power she will never relinquish it! She has brought nothing but suffering to our people, and now you would give her ultimate power, simply because she has enslaved some high elves! Fools! All of you!" "Silence, bitch!" shouted a young man from House M'Than, racing at Shadera with a drawn knife. Two of Shadera's bodyguards stepped forward, glaives whirling, slicing the boy open in a spray of blood. Daedora gaped in horror as the body fell, twitching, knife clanging to the stone floor. Elsewhere, similar scenes were being played out, and an instant later, Daedora saw Thae'Lynn's household guards and the Prince's soldiers wade into the crowd, weapons drawn, slashing at all of those who had opposed the proclamation. "Damn her!" Shadera cried. "She's drawn her enemies out into the open and now she's taking the opportunity to wipe us out! Daedora! Vomoss!We must flee! Daedora turned, her hand darting to her belt where her firewand hung. Ceremonial, it nonetheless carried a full load of deadly spells, and when one of Thae'Lynn's guards, a thin elf in black armor, appeared before her, Daedora cut him down without compunction, transforming him into a twitching, gibbering torch lit with purple flames. As they fled the chamber, a great commotion erupted behind, the screams of the combatants redoubling in volume. Thae'Lynn's daemon, Mazzor, had joined the fray, grabbing elves and smashing them against walls or tearing them asunder. Daedora, Vomoss, and Shadera escaped with a handful of guards. "We'll never survive with that thing after us," Shadera said. "Make for the pinnacle. There should be warbats there. We can fly from here before they realize we've gone." And so they struggled along the winding, narrow stairs and passages of Council Spire, climbing higher and higher, until at last they reached a wind-swept landing, a dizzying, nauseating distance above the mountains and rocky plains below. A couple of guards stood near a squadron of warbats, but they only stared curiously as Aunt Shadera and her retainers mounted up. "Quickly!" she urged, untethering her animal and kicking it awake. "We've only a few --" "Stop them! Traitors! Don't let them escape!" The shout came almost in direct response to Daedora's aunt's words, and an instant later the landing was alive with soldiers, some in the Prince's colors, others in the livery of Thae'Lynn or her allies. Then, Daedora and Shadera were airborne, the landing vanishing behind them. Uncle Vomoss cried out in agony as a crossbow bolt pierced his chest, and he tumbled from the saddle, twisting and dwindling in the long fall to the ground. The last of Shadera's household guards sacrificed themselves so that their Duchess could escape, falling before the swords of the usurper and her toadies. If there was airborne pursuit, it was too late, for the fleeing pair were able to make it to a friendly outpost on the edge of Yth'ela territory. Daedora's bat collapsed, panting and drooling, spilling her onto the stone courtyard as Yth'ela soldiers hastened to help her. "We made it," Aunt Shadera said, weakly, to the captain of the guard. Her husband of nearly 200 years was gone, but his loss had yet to make itself fully felt. "Thae'Lynn N'Quy has persuaded the Prince to grant her total authority, and she used her power to kill all who opposed her at the Council. As of today, we are at war with House N'Quy and its allies." The captain stared in horror. "Allies?" she said, disbelieving. "Thae'Lynn has allies?" Shadera nodded. "The Prince among them. I fear our house is now at war with the remainder of the Zhalha'sarr'im." "Daemons save us," whispered the captain. "They will not," Shadera said, grimly. "No one can save us now. All we can do is delay the inevitable." And so it was. Aunt Shadera had never been a fool, and her prediction was rapidly proved true. A handful of minor noble families opposed Thae'Lynn; these were quickly crushed. Of the major houses, only Yth'ela and the Dragon clans of Nendotha openly stood against her. Though Yth'ela commanded powerful magics, and each Nendotha Dragonscale Warrior was worth a hundred ordinary soldiers, all of the rebels knew it was only a matter of time before Thae'Lynn's triumph was complete. Thae'Lynn Prince Tyreth's moans were thin and, to Thae'Lynn's ears, weak. So unlike the virile males she normally bedded -- the minotaurs, ogres, humans, tigers, leopards, and others. Though her distaste for male Dark Elves remained considerable, she knew, as she bobbed her head with feigned enthusiasm, sliding Tyreth's erect manhood into her mouth, that this was necessary, both for her and for her people. "Oh, Duchess..." he gasped, his hands gripping the back of her head and driving her on. "Oh, dearest Duchess." We must always use titles, mustn't we, Thae'Lynn thought, contemptuously, letting Tyreth's black cock go, and running her tongue up its underside, careful to stroke the hard silver ball on the end of her tongue bar against its softest portions. She was rewarded by another shudder and moan, and by increased pressure on her head. "Oh, suck it, please." A sense of power infused Thae'Lynn, to have one of the most powerful leaders on all of Thystra in the palm of her hand (or, more specifically, in her mouth), to have him begging and pleading for her attention... No, she told herself, deliberately stretching her lips to surround the Prince's good-sized organ and feeling it slide past them. She pressed her tongue bar down again as it went, feeling his heat rise. No. He is but a figurehead -- a proud but powerless ruler whom we rally 'round, pretending that we are still a nation, still a people, not a ragged band of refugees driven from our homeland by light-skinned cousins who could not stand to think we were related. He is not powerful. He is nothing. Thae'Lynn released the prince and tugged feverishly with her fist, feeling the warm lubrication of her own saliva. He is nothing. I am powerful. I am the one. My enemies are all dead, or soon will be, and my plan is already in motion. Not him. Not anyone. I am powerful. She swallowed the slick organ with deft, experienced strokes. I am power. You will come for me, majesty. And you will know that I am Mistress, now and forever. "Ohhhhhhh..." The moans rose in intensity. She released again and tugged with even greater enthusiasm. As she did, she whispered hotly. "Come, my Prince. Come on me. Come in my face. Come on my tongue. Come for your Duchess." "Oh, I'm com... coming..." "Yes, my Prince. I'm ready --" She was cut off by a gush of hot white semen that shot from the Prince's cock, splattering her face and lips. She sucked at his glans, feeling more pump into her, filling her mouth. Thae'Lynn swallowed, feeling for a moment the same excitement as she felt when she made little Yawesha'ae scream in pain and ecstasy, or when one of her male lovers finally gave her what she wanted, coming inside her or splattering her with hot semen... This was no ogre, no minotaur, no leopard or other mindless animal male, of course. This was his majesty, High Prince of the Dark Elves, and his orgasm sealed his fate. Thae'Lynn released him, and he collapsed, his cock still twitching, leaking a thin stream of come. She licked her fingers, then crawled atop him, her face still wet with the Prince's semen. "Gods and daemons, your majesty," she whispered, looking down on his exhausted, panting form. "Aren't you glad that you made me Protector?" "Oh, yes, dearest Thae'Lynn," he replied. "Very glad indeed." Daedora White Lizard Crag stood, battered but as yet unbowed, under the siege engines of Protector Thae'Lynn and High Prince Tyreth. Once thought impregnable, the Crag was a solid massif crouched beneath the sheer face of the Ice Daemon, a splintered, ugly mountain with peaks as sharp as razors. A single iron gate granted entrance to the vast palace and fortress, and this had never been breached by an enemy. Smaller forts surrounded the main structure, and these bristled with ferocious defenders, ready to sell their lives dearly. White Lizard Crag stood alone, and though House Yth'ela remained defiant, most wondered how much longer they would endure. On the rocky wastes below, a great army camped, the smoke from its fires rising to the sky and joining overhead like a vast, dirty shroud for House Yth'ela. The struggle continued night and day. Naked slave infantry of a half dozen races, driven by whip-wielding overseers, flung themselves at the Crag's defenders, suicidally brave in the knowledge that failure would bring worse and more painful death than that waiting on the end of House Yth'ela's spears. After the slaves came mercenaries -- scarred veterans of a thousand battles, of every imaginable race. Humans, jarreks, orcs, wolfen, dwarves, goblins, even the odd Kaitian and Tandu, all advanced sternly, their faces grim and implacable, against a storm of arrows, sling bullets, magical projectiles and other missiles, storming one small fortress after another, pushing though splintered gates, scaling ladders or siege towers, hacking with swords, pummeling with maces and clubs, stabbing with daggers. Quarter was neither asked nor given, and as often as not, the mercenaries were driven off with heavy losses, and another fortress remained in Yth'ela's hands. But each day, such victories grew rarer, and after a month only a half-dozen forts continued to hold out, and most of these were utterly cut off from the main citadel. So far, the Dark Elven forces -- the infantry, lizard riders, wizards, assassins and bat-cavalry of the Protector and the Prince, had taken little part in the siege, preferring as always to let others do the bulk of the fighting and dying. Looking down from the ramparts at the antlike activity below, Daedora knew it was only a matter of time. A week, a month, a year, what did it matter? House Nendotha had fallen, and with them, House Yth'ela's last allies. No one could save them now, with all the Dark Elven houses united against them and the newly-appointed Protector sworn to slay every defiant household and bathe in their blood. Thae'Lynn seemed unstoppable now, her enemies destroyed, and the Prince utterly in her thrall. It was an open secret that the two were lovers, though most who knew Thae'Lynn wondered how she could stand the touch of a male of her own species. Daedora mused that the Duchess of Darkoak Hill was probably capable of enduring much worse in her quest for ultimate power. Daedora's heart went out to the family retainers who fought below, desperate and doomed, as another wave of mercenaries surged forward, screaming with bloodlust.They had doubtless spent the past few hours drinking, whoring, and inhaling dream smoke in anticipation of this attack, and in a few moments, she knew they would be swarming all over the tiny outcropping where Fort Nyna still held out. She brushed away a tear. Her people weren't supposed to feel this way, to experience sorrow and pity, to mirror the pain of others. Hers was a harsh, cruel people, given over only to self-gratification and indulgence, driven by hatred and desire for vengeance against a people and a world that rejected them, made them outcasts, and called them evil. If evil they were called, so the reasoning went, then evil the Dark Elves would be. Who, Daedora wondered, made such a decision? Who decreed that she was destined only for a life of self-serving pleasure and the infliction of pain upon the innocent? Who but those like Thae'Lynn N'Quy who saw the cosmos only in terms of how it served her? Who but those that each day besieged Daedora's home, pounding it to rubble, intent only upon the painful extinction of all those within? Swallowing her fear and forcing back tears, Daedora looked down, and was not for the first time, ashamed of what she was. "Lady! Look out!" The voice cut through the air with the swiftness and urgency of an arrow. Trained instincts took over, and in an instant, Daedora was sprawled upon the flagstones, feeling a cold rush of wind and a tearing sensation as great talons grazed her back, tearing fabric, but leaving her flesh untouched. She looked up. Swooping upward, frustrated in her first attempt, was a thin Dark Elven woman mounted astride an enormous snowy owl. An assassin of House Inytas! At last, now that Thae'Lynn's victory was assured, they had broken their neutrality and entered the fray. Flying through the shadows on nearly silent wings, the owl-riders were among the most fearsome of the dark elves' aerial troops. "Get inside, Lady!" The voice came from a guardsman in house colors, who hurried forward, spanning a crossbow at the ready. "I'll deal with this one!" "No!" Daedora shouted, clambering to her feet as the assassin swung around for another run. Though her prey was alerted, the fierce determination in the assassin's pale eyes remained undimmed. It was said that once a House Inytas killer marked a victim, only death could stop them. Daedora fumbled at her belt, seeking her firewand. It was gone, knocked loose when she fell. Desperately, as the white-feathered monster descended with sickening speed, Daedora cast about for the lost wand. "Yth'ela!" shouted the guardsman, discharging the crossbow. "Long Live Duchess Shadera!" The bolt flew true, striking the assassin in the shoulder. She cried out, and the owl dipped slightly, but then came on again. The assassin's cry of pain transformed into a scream of rage, and then she was on the guardsman, the owl's talons stabbing. The assassin rushed upward once more, leaving a sundered corpse in pieces behind, blood staining the flagstones. Rage surged through Daedora, and she glared at the flyer with fierce hatred. The defiant cry of her guardsman still rang in her ears as her hand found the fallen wand, and she leaped to her feet, shouting her own battle cry. "Death to Thae'Lynn! Death to the Tyrant!" The owl descended once more, and the assassin's face contorted into a sadistic grin. It evaporated a moment later when Daedora spoke a magical password, and the wand belched forth a torrent of purple flames. The owl and its rider were enveloped, both screaming horribly, and the entire flaming mass dropped suddenly, crashing into the wall beneath Daedora's feet, then tumbling down and down toward the battlefield below. She looked up, struggling to catch her breath and still her racing heart. More sky riders soared overhead -- owls, bats, lizards. With the last of the forts now lost or completely cut off, N'Quy's final assault could begin. Hastily, Daedora turned and ran back for the relative safety of the inner fortress. What was that N'Quy bitch doing now in her command tent, so far away, Daedora wondered?

m/f, m/f/f/f, f/f, cons. s&m

2/5

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/12689.txt

Lord Malinov

Improvisation

"I can save you, traitor," the Princess hissed. "My father wants to believe in you, and I can persuade him." She paused and gave her prisoner an inviting look. "There is a condition. You must renounce Aida and marry me." A fierce, determined gleam in Theresa's eyes spoke volumes. She slammed her notebook down on the table for emphasis. Silence let the noise echo. "I cannot," Scott replied weakly, unprepared to offer up the noble surrender of his life. He looked up at the woman. "Never. I love her." The emotion in his voice trembled. "Good," shouted the director enthusiastically. "Perfect, Theresa. Scott, you need to speak with more courage and conviction. But I think you two have the right idea. Let's break for lunch, and when we get back, we'll do some more improv on the scene. Think about what has happened in the script and what will happen next. I want each of you to understand your characters completely before we start singing." "Actors," grumbled Scott as he stepped off stage. "C'mon," said Theresa, taking his hand and pulling him behind her. Scott followed, a little disturbed to be submitting to the demanding mezzo-soprano in front of the rest of the cast, but not quite daring a fit of independence so early in the production. Once they'd escaped the curious eyes of their fellows, he accepted her command with a ready eagerness. Theresa opened the door to her dressing room and, showing him in, she locked the door behind them. "I had the caterers bring some trays back here. I thought we could discuss our scenes while we ate. I hope you don't mind." "I think it's a marvelous idea," said Scott, sitting on a loveseat. "Good. I'd hoped you would accommodate my flights of fancy. I am so anxious that this production go well, and with you as our tenor, I think our show will be delicious." Theresa twirled and sat beside her leading man. "Thank you," said Scott, reaching for a sandwich. "I meant to thank you before. I know you're the reason I'm here." "Nonsense," said Theresa, laughing. "You deserved the role. Who else could play the passionate general with so much strength, so much verve, so much voice? I don't think there was ever any choice." "Still, with your father producing the opera, I mean. You..." "Daddy's indulged me in choosing the role, but he wouldn't throw away money, even for me. Only the best were chosen for this show." "And you chose Amneris? I mean, why didn't you take Aida's role?" "Don't kid me, Scott. I'll be lucky to hit the B-flat. Don't even dream about me hitting high C without a whole lot of orchestra drowning that screech out. Besides, I think I can understand the spoiled daughter role better than most." Scott sputtered a heartfelt laugh, choking back the sandwich and his fear of offending the lady. "Fair enough. I'm going to be struggling myself. Maybe you can get the caterer to bring us an extra bottle of brandy before the show to loosen our chords." "Hmmm," said Theresa, putting her china-like hands on Scott's shoulder, playfully. "I wouldn't want us getting too drunk to control ourselves." Scott smiled with a twinge of anxiety and took a bite of his thick hunk of Italian bread. "No," he said, his mouth still full, "I wouldn't think more than a sip would be necessary." "Still," said Theresa, her hands moving down the tenor's chest, "we don't have to maintain too much control." Scott felt himself draw away from the aggressive touch of his companion, anxious to keep her good grace and yet unprepared to give himself up so easily. Her hands fell down to tease his thigh, and he stood up suddenly. "Do you have anything to drink?" he asked. "Sure, mon general. Let me pour you some of my favorite wine." She leaned over to retrieve the bottle from beneath the serving trays. Ice water dripped from the French label. "Could you open it, please? I'm all thumbs with corkscrews." Scott nodded shyly and took the bottle from her hands. He turned the metal spiral into the cork. Theresa rubbed an unashamed hand over the crotch of his trousers. Scott blushed and pulled at the cork. Theresa unzipped his fly. "Mmmm," she said. "I'm going to like working with you." "Theresa," he said, putting the bottle down and turning away slightly. She took hold of his hips and drew him closer. "Pour some wine," she instructed him, boldly fishing in the darkness of his pants. His cock fell softly into her eager fingers. "Hmmm," she murmured. Scott reached awkwardly for the glasses. Theresa pulled his thickening member from the confines of cloth. Scott poured the wine. Theresa suckled his prick. "Oh," he said nervously, feeling the rush of adrenalin and unbidden excitement in his blood. She pushed the stiffening rod deep into her mouth. He put a hand through her silky hair. He thought for a second of Andrea. She would never forgive this. As Theresa slipped her tongue wet over the length of his prick, the mezzo-soprano began to hum. "Theresa," the tenor moaned. "Don't," he said, his voice trailing softly as she sucked to the first line of their impassioned duet. She continued to play and lightly sing. Scott found himself gently intoning his lines as they arose in the succession of rhythm and fevered emotion. Theresa suckled and sang and fondled and played. Scott felt the heat rising in his neck and his head. As her notes rose higher, pleading passionately for him to forsake his love, to live, to survive, he felt his excitement bubble. He was Radames. He would triumph. Amneris would make him king. She swallowed the fountain of lust. She licked her lips with a smile. Scott again offered her a glass of wine, and this time she took a sip. Scott poured another glass and tossed it back in a gulp. He tried to look at her, but felt deflated and ashamed. "Mmmm," Theresa said energetically, paying his reluctance no mind. "A good rehearsal, wouldn't you say?" "Um, yes. Theresa?" "Scott?" "Thanks. I mean. Thanks." A knock came at the door. "Back on stage, please," a voice spoke. "C'mon, lover. Let's show them how this scene should be done." "Yeah," said Scott, weakly, "with courage and conviction."

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/9017.txt

Jamie Thorne

Paying the Debt

"I can't believe it," I mutter as I watch the replay on the computer screen, "I lost." I let out a growl of annoyance. You then flash me that evil smile that you do so well. Looking at the clock, you notice that it's very late and you'd better get going. "I'll be back tomorrow around three-thirty, four o'clock to collect my bet," you say, kissing me briefly on the lips. I growl in response to your cocky tone and smug grin. I then grab you and give you a hard kiss goodbye. "You'd better not welch on this bet," you say as you leave. Then I hear the door close. "Damn," I mutter, "I should have known better than to make a stupid bet like that. I guess I'm going to have to pay up but..." My mind starts to whirl with ideas and images. "He is going to be calling the shots, but I think I know a way to shift a little of the power back into my hands. I have never been the submissive. I still need to have some control over the situation." Then, in a flash, it comes to me. "Fire and Ice!" "Oh boy, is he going to be in for a surprise tomorrow," I say as I get the things I need ready. I go to the top of the closet and pull out a glass, an ice cube tray, a coffee cup, and a container of bottled water. I fill the ice cube tray and put it in the freezer, and the bottled water goes in the fridge. I leave the coffee cup on top of the little fridge with the glass. After everything is in order, I get ready for bed and go to sleep. The next morning, I still have things to do to prepare. After everything has been set up, I pick up my book and begin reading. A few hours pass. I put down my book and take a look at my watch. 2:30 PM. My stomach tightens, knowing that you'll be here within the hour. I don't have a lot of time to get myself ready. I throw on a pair of jeans, a black silk shirt, and a pair of leather boots. Then I have to finish setting up. I fill the coffee cup with water and put it in the microwave for a few minutes. I then put the ice in the glass and fill it with water. I set the glass and coffee cup on the ledge next to my bed. I then am left with minutes to sit and stew and get even more nervous. I jump almost a mile when you open the door. You take one look at me and it's obvious how jumpy I am. And you can't help but laugh. You then grab me and kiss me. Hard. Forceful. Scraping your nails down my back. I arch back, and my moan pours into your mouth. You then travel to my neck, where you proceed to torture and tease. Biting, scraping, licking. A low growl forms in my throat as I throw my head back. "If I recall correctly, you have a debt?" you say with a slight smile on your face. I nod, look down, and blush. You then tilt my chin up and bring your lips to mine. Gently at first. My hands instinctively wrap around your neck, pulling you closer. The kiss becomes more and more passionate as the seconds pass. My hands move down from your neck to your shoulders as I slowly back you up towards the bed. We both fall back onto the mattress, with me on top. I then decide to tease and torment you, just a bit. I lean over and gently bite your neck, scraping my teeth over your warm flesh. I then trail my tongue up to your ear, very slowly. I start nibbling your ear, every so often flicking it with my tongue. I hear you moan and gasp just a little. I then proceed to scrape my teeth down from your neck to your shoulder. You seem to enjoy my ministrations. You bring your hands to my neck and shoulders, trying to regain a bit of control. However, you've tried that before. In a blinding instant, I grasp one of your fingers between my teeth. I then caress your fingers with my tongue, nipping and sucking ever so slightly. I repeat this to all of your fingers, listening for your response. I hear you growl, softly. I then slide my hands over your chest, tugging and pulling at your shirt. You push away my hands and pull your shirt off. I growl appreciatively, liking what I see. I then press myself against you. You run your fingers down my back, making me arch backward. Taking advantage of the position I am in, you unbutton the front of my shirt, pushing aside the silk. As I kiss my way down your chest, you slide the shirt off of me. Eventually, I reach the top of your jeans. Driven by a wild impulse, I unbutton your jeans and skim the zipper down with my teeth. You then tug the jeans off, tossing them to the side. "If I remember, you have a bet to pay up," you say, looking down at me. "And if I remember the provisions of the bet, I get to call the shots." I smile. You have no idea what I'm going to do. However, I doubt that you'll ask me to stop. I kneel between your legs and lick you from base to tip. I then slide you all the way into my mouth. I hold you there, pulsing my throat ever so slightly around you. I then slide you out of my mouth and reach for the glass of ice water that's right next to my bed. After taking a sip, I slide you in my mouth again. You gasp at the sheer coldness of my mouth. "I thought that I was going to dictate what goes on," you say, gasping ever so slightly. "Then you want me to stop?" I ask. You shake your head in a vigorous "No." Knowing that I now am holding some of the cards, I decide to continue. I slide you out of my mouth and take a sip of the hot water. I slowly slide you into my mouth, flicking my tongue over the head. I hear your rapid intake of air as you slide further into my mouth. I keep alternating the fire and ice treatment. I keep throating you and licking you all the while too. When I pay off bets, I make sure that I fulfill it to the best of my ability. I can feel you tighten up, and I know that you are close. I slide you out and blow a cool stream of air over your now very hard cock. And then I slowly slide you into my mouth again. This action was the one that sends you over the edge. You stiffen, and your hands grab my hair, holding me in place as the orgasm hits you. Even during your climax, I continue to play with your cock with my tongue. I hold you in my mouth the duration of your orgasm. After the orgasm subsides, you slowly begin to relax, and your breathing returns to normal. I raise my head up and look at you with a wicked smile, very similar to the one that you so often give me. I lean over and kiss you gently on the mouth. I suggest that we rest a bit, before I have to fulfill the rest of the bargain. You agree, but as I curl up beside you, I notice a wicked gleam in your eye. And I know that you are planning some kind of payback for me when I pay off the rest of the bet.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/9307.txt

Slave Shoelicker

Teen Femdom

"O.K. that's about enough for one night, grab that package over there and bring it up to the bedroom," Kim ordered. I crawled over and dragged the package up the stairs to the bedroom. I was not quite prepared for what awaited me when I got there. Karen was standing there brushing her long blond hair in nothing but flimsy hot pink panties and one of my tee shirts that she had cut to barely cover her breasts. Kim was in white cotton panties and had only a sports bra on top. After gawking for a minute or so, Kim ordered me to bring her the package as she sat on the bed. She took out handcuffs and anklecuffs and she quickly affixed them on me. Next, she took a chain with clasps at both ends. She attached one end to the ring on my studded collar, and the other to the ring on the cock harness. The chain was extremely short, and I had to hunch over as far as I could for Kim to attach it to my harness. Then she attached the handcuffs to the anklecuffs. I was now contorted into a position where I was sitting on my heels with my head pulled down into my thighs. There was almost no room for movement unless I was willing to risk castration. Karen was once again filming my humiliation to capture it for future display. Meanwhile, she took the tape that had recorded my drinking scene downstairs and set it up to play on the bedroom TV. Kim kicked me over on my side and told me to enjoy the show. They rewound the tape to the spot where they went upstairs and left me there with orders to drink. Kim and Karen got into my(?) bed and started the tape. They burst out with laughter as they watched me humiliate myself on my own with neither one there. Karen could not believe the look of total ecstasy on my face as I savored the gooey phlegmy slime before swallowing. It appeared that Kim had made a friendly bet with Karen that I would humiliate myself no less so if they were not there, and the proof was on the camera. "You are right Kim, he really is your total slave. I can't believe you were able to do this in less than a day." It was hard for me to believe as well, but there was no doubt that Karen was right, I was Kim's total slave. They shut off the tape, and turned out the lights, and I thought they were going to bed, until I heard the sounds of some hot and heavy action taking place up above. They were obviously treating themselves to numerous orgasms while I was left with a rock hard cock for which there would be no relief tonight. So I drifted off to a painful and fitful sleep given the bound position I was in. Saturday morning arrived, and I had hopes of being released from my bonds. The girls awoke around 8:30 and started mulling around. They took showers and dressed in yesterday's clothes. Kim released me and told me to take a shower and be quick about it. As quickly as I could, I showered, shaved and dressed. Then I crawled down the stairs to greet the teens. "What are you doing with clothes on?" Kim asked angrily, "You are not to have clothes on in this house unless told to." Needless to say I was stripping as fast as I could. On my knees I crawled over and rested my head on the floor in front of Kim's feet. "You may beg my forgiveness." With every ounce of sincerity I could muster I pleaded for forgiveness from Kim, promising that I was doing my best to comply with her every wish and command, and that I would try as though my life depended on it to please her in ways that she couldn't yet imagine. I would struggle to perform for her exactly as she wanted without her even having to ask. "I will overlook this transgression just this once only because I am in a hurry and I don't want to work up a sweat beating your ass. However, rest assured that should I feel like punishing you later you have merely been granted a short reprieve. Now show me gratitude for the mercy I have bestowed on you." Once again I prostrated myself before this amazing girl and kissed her shoes as if there was no tomorrow, which there might not be if she was not completely satisfied with my performance. She tilted her shoe slightly, and I was able to struggle to lick her soles, abasing myself once again as Karen recorded the moment. Without my cock harness on, the degradation I was feeling while licking her sole sent me over the edge as I came on the kitchen floor. "Enough," Kim stated, as she kicked me away. Observing the mess I made, she smiled and spit right in the middle of it. "On your back!" I rolled on my back, and she proceeded to step in the goo and then on my face. I hungrily lapped at her shoe until she was satisfied the slop was all gone. The collar and cock harness were then attached along with the cock leash. I was then allowed to put my clothes back on. I had to leave my fly open an inch or so to allow the leash to pass through. "Now Karen and I both celebrated our 18th birthday last week, and it's time for you to take us out and get us a present. So get your money and credit cards together. Let's go, I'm hungry, and we are going to stop at the diner for breakfast first." I was back in a flash, and crawled out to the Infiniti in the garage where the girls were waiting. On the way to the diner, Kim tugged on the leash and rested her feet in my lap. From the back seat, Karen rubbed her saddle shoes all over my head. I was in heaven once again, but the cock and ball harness was preventing any relief from the torment. We stopped at a red light, and a car pulled up beside us. As the couple looked over at us, Kim raised her foot and said, "Lick it" while tugging on the cock leash. I knew better than to delay and began licking Kim's sole right in front of this couple. Karen was laughing hysterically from the back at the situation. "I can't imagine what you will have him doing after a week," Karen said as we continued to the diner. Once there, Kim led me from the car by the leash, thankfully I was allowed to walk instead of crawl. We were shown a table, and all was well as Kim ordered for me, and we awaited the food. She ordered me oatmeal, and when it came, declared it too hot. She pulled the bowl over to her side, and Karen and Kim took turns spitting in it, much to the disbelief of the people at the table across from us. "Would you like it mixed in?" she asked. "No, thank-you Goddess Kim," I replied. She gave me the bowl back, and I carefully scraped the spittle off the top and once again relished it like it was a feast for a king. The other table was now a mix between disgust and laughter. I was about to take a drink when I felt a tug that told me to stop. Kim took my glass along with hers, and headed to the bathroom with Karen. They returned shortly and placed the two glasses in front of me. "Since I thought you might be thirsty I brought you two." "Thank you Goddess Kim." I reached out for one of the glasses containing what I knew to be her golden nectar. "I can never thank you enough for the privilege you now bestow on me Goddess Kim." I closed my eyes and slowly drank her waste product as if it were a rare wine. The other table was just about over the edge when Kim took a spoonful of the slop, crossed her legs so one was hanging slightly out in the aisle, and plopped the slop right on the patent leather of her maryjane. Without hesitation, I got out from my seat and sank to my knees before my goddess, begging for permission to clean her shoe. After several humbling efforts to convince her, Kim granted me permission to clean her shoe. Slowly, and reverently, I lapped up the slop from the lovely maryjane. I then returned to the table and washed it down with the other glass of her precious fluid. Finished, Kim now led me by the leash out of the diner. End of part 4---to be continued---post comments We left the diner and headed off to the Stanford shopping mall. Kim was quiet on the drive, perhaps reflecting on the public events that had just taken place. It seemed as if she were born for the role of dominatrix. She had taken to it almost immediately and now seemed to actually relish her new position. She was looking for more and more ways to demonstrate her control and power over me.I, on the other hand, could not believe how strong my desire to submit to her had become. I had never experienced anything approaching the level of sexual arousal I derived from my submission. Maybe it was the fact that her domination was no game. In any case, we were discovering that we were perfect for the roles we were taking. In fact, they weren't roles. It was as if we had found our calling in life. I had always fantasized about submission, but I never thought I would actually enjoy the real-life experience. Now I was discovering that the real thing was pleasure beyond anything my wildest fantasies had ever produced. I wondered how far this would all take me, and where it would end. Was Kim having some of these same thoughts? We arrived at the posh shopping mall, and I walked behind the girls as Kim held my leash. The thin rawhide was not that noticeable, but occasionally someone would notice and snicker at my predicament. The shame I felt when they discovered my plight stirred my cock to total arousal. Damn the cock harness biting into the base of my cock. This ever-present arousal, however, caused a constant stream of pre-cum to leak out, making the choice of my light tan pants a poor one. The stain would only draw attention to the leash. I was helpless, however, in controlling my arousal. As we strolled along, Kim was discussing that she needed to come up with a name for me. Mr. Conway simply would not do. She felt that perhaps "Slave Shoelicker" would be appropriate, and so I became Mr. Slave Shoelicker. The girls enjoyed their fun, talking about me as if I wasn't there, but now it was time to shop. In honor of my new name, we first stopped in a shoe store. Kim picked out several different styles of Mary Janes, both patent and matte finish in black, white, and even a pink pair she found in her size. She also picked out a pair of leather Keds for comfort around the house. Karen, on the other hand, picked out several varieties of the saddle shoes she enjoyed, in black/white, red/white, pink/white, green/white, and yellow/white. Karen also went for some spiked heels and strappy sandals. As the girls were trying on the shoes, Kim would occasionally ask, "Would you enjoy licking the dirt off these shoes, Slave Shoelicker?" This, of course, was said right in front of the sales woman for proper effect. I would always respond, "Yes, Goddess Kim." At least the sales woman was discreet and would just smile and shake her head. When she found out that we would be buying all twenty or so pairs that the girls tried on, she was a little more impressed. The next stop was a Victoria's Secret-type store. Kim's tastes were rather simple - only cotton panties and socks. She did, however, pick up several pairs of anklets in a variety of colors. Karen once again went with a more sophisticated style: frilly anklets, thigh-highs, silks, nylon, and nightclothes. Karen had model looks and could wear anything or nothing at all and rate a top ten in anyone's opinion. The sales woman remarked several times that she knew an agent who would be interested in meeting her if she was interested in modeling. The sales woman also noticed the leash that Kim was holding and asked if I was her dog. "Oh no, he doesn't rate that high, he is Slave Shoelicker." Noticing the growing pre-cum stain, the woman remarked, "Is he under control?" Kim crossed her legs and gently started swinging her foot. I felt a tight tug on the leash and fell to my knees in front of my Goddess. I lowered my head to the floor below her swinging foot. "Do you have anything to say, slave?" Kim asked. "Please allow me the privilege of abasing myself at your feet, Goddess Kim. I would consider it the greatest honor if you would allow me to lick the dirt from your shoe. There is no more joyful act that I could hope to perform in my worthless life than to perform this honor for you." Kim tugged on the leash, and I contorted myself to get at the sole of her shoe that was barely six inches off the ground. Once again, I was lost in the ecstasy that this humiliating act brought about. The experience was orgasmic, even though my cock and ball harness prevented me from cumming. I don't know how long this scene went on, but a tug on the leash brought me out of my trance, and it was time to leave. Karen spent over $1,000 on her own here. As we continued to stroll around the mall, the girls were talking amongst themselves about how far they could go before my credit limit ran out. Karen wanted to ask, but Kim was unconcerned. We stopped in several other stores and spent several thousand more when Kim decided it was time to leave. Karen wanted to continue, as it appeared she could shop all day and night. It was agreed they would stop in one more store before we left. Karen picked a jewelry store. After browsing around for a while, Kim came up with an idea. "Slave Shoelicker, since we are here in honor of our 18th birthdays, you will decide what to buy us here." Karen was immediately disappointed. She felt she would be cheated out of a real coup. I decided to start with Karen. I knew her tastes were sophisticated and expensive. When I picked out the diamond stud earrings for three thousand dollars, her eyes lit up, and she gasped. While she and Kim were admiring the earrings, I picked out a ruby, emerald, and diamond tennis bracelet that went for twenty-five thousand. Karen was flabbergasted as she hugged Kim. She was immediately talking about eveningwear she needed to get so she could wear the bracelet. She even hinted that I might be entitled to a reward for my choice, but Kim cut her off on that topic. Now I must decide for Kim. This would be a little more difficult. I didn't want to disappoint her, yet she did not have expensive tastes. After looking around for a while, I selected a simple gold ankle bracelet. With my heart pounding with apprehension, I held out the bracelet for Kim to see. A slight smile crossed her lips, and she moved her foot forward and pointed her toe in a dancer's pose. I sank to my knees and kissed her shoe, my face almost to the ground. I kissed her foot several times, as I was in no hurry. Perhaps because she was pleased, she allowed me to continue placing loving kisses on her shoe. Not wanting to carry on beyond the honor Kim bestowed, I moved back slightly, still bent over practically lying on the floor at her feet, and put the bracelet on. I boldly took the liberty and kissed her ankle, the highest point that I had ever achieved. I backed away and lowered my forehead to the ground at her feet. She left me there while she and Karen admired the bracelet, then tugged the leash, and it was time to leave. On the way home, we stopped at an exercise equipment store. I had a stairmaster at home, but Kim decided we needed two so they could both exercise at the same time. Once at home, the girls decided to head back to their houses to get some necessary things for the rest of the weekend. Before leaving, Kim attached the handcuffs and ankle cuffs and attached my collar to my cock harness with the short link chain, causing me to ball up on the floor. She then took her socks off and stuffed them in my mouth. She placed her Mary Jane over my nose and tied it in place. This was sure to keep me in total aroused frustration until they returned. "Don't get into any trouble while we're gone, Slave Shoelicker," Karen joked as they left.The result of which was the most incredible hard-on I could imagine. Would anybody who had any hope of gaining control of their life allow themselves to be in this position? In fact, I had a continuous hard-on since I agreed to be Kim's slave. Was I losing control of my life to my dick? The girls returned with their stuff and some Chinese food. It was late afternoon and I hadn't eaten lunch. They decided to eat in the kitchen, and Kim came into the living room to unhook the chain connecting my collar to my cock harness. "Come to dinner," she said. But she left my handcuffs attached to my ankle cuffs. This made it very difficult to move, so I wormed my way to the kitchen. Karen laughed as I came around the corner with the shoe attached to the middle of my face. "Are we hungry, Mr. Shoelicker? Today you are also a shoe sniffer. Oh, looks like the cats got your tongue, or is it the socks?" Karen mused. Kim got up and removed the shoe and socks. I bent down and commenced passionately kissing the Mary Jane that was now beside me. "It's as if that's the most precious object in the world," Karen giggled. Kim put the bowl down on the floor with a mixture of rice, chicken, and broccoli. "Would you care for something to drink?" "Yes, Goddess Kim." Kim raised her pleated skirt and lowered her white cotton panties. She squatted over the bowl and let out a stream of urine. Evidently, she hadn't gone to the bathroom for quite some time because it was pungent, and she went on so long that she filled the bowl, and it spilled onto the floor. She sat back down and remarked, "I appear to have soiled some on my shoes." With my cuffed hands attached to my cuffed feet, I slithered along on my belly until I reached Kim's shoes. Her legs were stretched out and crossed at the ankles, giving me a good angle from my position flat on my belly with legs bent back at the knees to meet my hands. "Goddess Kim, may I please be granted the honor of cleaning your shoes?" "Yes, you may, but be quick about it." I lapped at her shoes as quickly as I could, careful, though, to ensure that nothing was missed. I wanted those shoes to shine as bright as they were when Kim wore them out of the store this morning. It was apparent that my bonds would not be released for me to eat, so I wormed my way back to the bowl, licking and slurping up every drop of Kim's golden wine along the way. The pleasure was once again unreal. To be on my belly, on the floor, in front of my Goddess, lapping up her bodily waste, was pleasure beyond description, even with the cock harness attached. I felt as though I were experiencing multiple orgasms. I felt just the way one feels the split moment before ejaculation, only the feeling continued on and on because the harness prevented release. I moved to the bowl, slowly drinking my way down to the food, lost in my ecstasy. I was brought back to reality by Kim, who was undoing my bonds. I was to be given a reprieve to allow me to clean up after dinner. The girls went to relax in the living room. Just then, the doorbell rang. It was around five o'clock, and I wondered who it might be. Kim got the door and apparently was letting someone in. It was the fellow delivering the stairmaster. She was telling him to take it to the den, which would take him right by the kitchen. I was in a panic. I could slip out into the garage, but what would Kim think? I was under orders to clean the kitchen, and I must follow them completely and without hesitation or risk the crop, or worse. Here I was, naked except for the slave collar, the cock & ball harness, and the leash. My dick was sticking straight up, leaking pre-cum, and my balls were separated and protruding in an unnatural way due to the harness. I looked ridiculous. There he was, he stopped dead in his tracks. "Who is that?" he directed at Kim, which was lucky since I am forbidden to talk. "That is Slave Shoelicker," Kim replied. "Ha ha ha. Does he lick shoes?" "Among other things," Kim said matter-of-factly. "Can I see him do it?" "He hasn't earned the privilege to lick my shoes at this time, but Karen, do you think Slave Shoelicker is deserving enough to lick your shoes?" Kim asked. "Well, if he begs me and grovels in just the right way, I may let him," Karen said. My heart racing yet again, I got down on my belly and slithered into the living room. Karen was on the couch wearing a clingy pink top that exposed her perfect stomach, tight hot pink shorts, and frilly pink anklets to match the pink/white saddle shoes. Her long blonde hair was back in a ponytail held in place by a pink velvet scrunchie. To put it mildly, she looked like the most desirable woman alive today. Prostrate before her, I begged her to allow me the great honor of licking her shoes. The delivery guy was hysterical as I abased myself to a new low. After a few minutes of pleading for the privilege, Karen relented and said I could clean the soles. Closing my eyes to drink in all the fantastic stimulation this degrading act sent through my sensory system, I humbled myself before this beautiful woman. I licked as though her sole was the sweetest ice cream in the world, savoring the pleasure shockwaves that came with each lick. Although this might have been viewed as even more hilarious than the begging scene, the man was no longer laughing. Kim directed him to complete his delivery and leave as I continued licking Karen's shoes. Kim shut the door behind the deliveryman, who didn't utter a word on the way out, and returned to the living room. "Well, it looks like you have become the envy of the delivery force, Slave Shoelicker." "Did you see the hard-on he got when Slave Shoelicker started making love to my shoes?" Karen asked. "No doubt he would have traded places without a moment's hesitation," Kim remarked. The girls relaxed in the living room while I continued, lost in my own world of ecstasy groveling before this truly beautiful woman. Kim congratulated Karen for the way in which she controlled me in front of the deliveryman. It was her first real attempt at exercising her control over me, and she was going to be a fast learner. End of part 6---to be continued---post comments By Slave Shoelicker

Part 4 & Part 5

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/7971.txt

M. Quayle

Late to Dinner

"Believe it or not, before the advent of universal birth control and affordably-priced surrogates, most women gave birth to their own children," Kathy stood at the front of the classroom. "But now, in our more enlightened age, we don't have to risk ruining our figures just to be mommies." "Very good, Kathy," Mrs. Stephenson said approvingly. "Does anyone have any questions for our scholar?" Gina raised her hand, "Was universal birth control developed before or after they perfected the longevity drugs everybody takes?" "They were both part of the same medical breakthrough that cured the last of the social diseases," Kathy answered brightly, "which is why both longevity drugs and vaccines are included in every birth control implant." "But weren't there some side effects in the early days, like people's hair falling out and stuff?" Gina spread her legs to give Kathy a "flash" of her heart-shaped pubes in hopes of breaking her train of thought. "That's right," Kathy licked her lips, took a deep breath and went on with her speech assignment. "But most were taken care of quickly and aren't a big problem today. "Of course, not all of the side effects were bad. Perpetual lubrication and increased sex drives and stamina, for example." "My great grandfather says it used to be against the law for kids to have sex. Is that true?" asked an incredulous teen in the back. "Yes, as a matter of fact, they called girls like me 'jail bait' back then. They'd also arrest you for doing it with your family or someone of the same sex or even for not taking no for an answer." Kathy shuddered at the barbarism, "that's why we call it 'the Dark Ages'." "You mean you had to ask?" "Uh huh, I know the idea of denying another person pleasure sounds really sick, but they were really selfish with their bodies back --" Kathy was cut short by the school intercom: she was needed in the principal's office. Kathy excused herself, clicked down the hall in her black heels, and stopped to check herself in the full-length mirror in the ladies room. She liked what she saw: classic Nordic blonde with thick straight hair that covered her small, pert breasts. Her black micro skirt was just long enough to leave some mystery, but short enough to expose lanky thighs that peaked over the top of sheer black nylons. Kathy discovered her beloved Christi bent over Principal Krok's desk. Her skirt was pulled up to her waist and the muscular man was pumping furiously into her backside. Tears flowed from the brunette's sparkling blue eyes, but she smiled when Kathy came into view. "Hi, Ka-Kathy," Christi sobbed. Kathy took her hand and held tight as Principal Krok pushed even deeper into the restricted area. "Oh, Kathy, I didn't see you come in," the principal smiled. He withdrew from Christi, roughly shoved her to the floor then held her by the hair as he frosted her tear-streaked face with a huge blast of white seed. Christi groveled at the principal's feet. "Thank you for using me, Sir," her tiny voice shook. "It's a privilege to suffer for your pleasure." The principal sat down behind his desk and rested his heels on the trembling girl's back. "Kathy, you're a lucky girl to have a sweety like Christi here," the principal leaned back in his chair, struck a match and lit a cigarette. "Not everyone can go steady their school's reigning Submissive Miss, but, after all, you are captain of the girls sex team." "Thank you, Principal Krok." Kathy stood politely with eyes lowered and demurely raised her skirt with both hands. Christi let out a pitiful moan when the principal casually dropped the glowing match onto her bare back. "Now, I've taken the liberty of calling both your mothers to get their permission." "Permission for what?" Kathy watched the orange coal burrow into smooth white skin. "The state's Secretary of Education and his Supervisor of Masochistic Instruction are coming tomorrow, so I'm giving them the school's two leading sex stars for the night. Doesn't that sound like fun?" "Ye-yes, sir," Kathy stammered. "Any-anything for the school, Sir, anything." "That's the spirit, Kathy," he smiled. "Now, you two girls take the rest of today and tomorrow off so you can get ready." "Re-ready?" Christi trembled beneath the principal's heel. The principal flicked a cigarette ash onto the inquisitive girl then ordered her to her feet. "I'm sending the boys sex team to entertain our visitors' wives. That means the secretary and the supervisor will be free to take you two to the most exclusive club in town!" Kathy reacted with shock, "Not Cassa de Dolcett? No, I can't. I mean, I'm a vegetarian!" "No, no. I'd never hear the end of it if you wound up on the menu. You girls are going to dine at the Knife & Noose before you give our guests a private show in the hotel dungeon." Kathy sighed with relief as the principal escorted the pair to the door. "The Knife & Noose is super cool, Principal Krok. That's where Mommy and Daddy go on their anniversary," she suddenly felt very sophisticated and grown-up. "This will be fun!" Christi lay on the porch swing with her head in Kathy's lap. "I just don't understand you, sometimes, Chris," Kathy stroked her lover's thick brown hair. "What do you mean?" "Oh, you know, with me you're usually a real take charge kind of girl, but with guys you're this little torture mouse," Kathy shook her head. "What gives?" "Can't I have it both ways? It's like," Christi sighed, "girls are for pleasure and guys are for pain, I gotta have both or I go insane." "That's cute," Kathy teased, "but how do you explain that little scene the other night with Mrs. Potter?" "I don't know," Christi sat up and pulled Kathy's hair back into a tight ponytail. "There's just something about a gorgeous woman with a 13-inch strap-on and a riding crop, I guess." Christi tightened her grip on Kathy's hair and instructed her to kneel facing her inviting honey dome. "Now, start licking, Slave Kathy, and keep licking until I tell you to stop," she grinned a sinister grin, "or no nylon necklace for you tonight." "Yes, Mistress Christi," Kathy eagerly lapped the sweet pink mound. "Anything you say, Mistress. Anything." "My, my, aren't we the little lady!" Mommy gushed as Kathy entered the master bedroom. "Do I look okay, Mommy, really?" Kathy asked tentatively. "This is my first real grown-up date and I want everything to be perfect." Mommy drank in the vision: dazzling blonde hair that swept up and back, then cascaded down in freshly curled ringlets; small-to-medium sized breasts decorated with sparkling gold nipple rings linked by a simple, dangling chain; a pale, freshly waxed mound outlined by a lacy black garter belt; and coltish legs wrapped in luminous black nylon that rose from shiny black mules with 5-inch heels. "You look delicious! You'll be the bell of the ball," Mommy beamed, "or should I say 'dungeon'." "Thanks," Kathy fidgeted with her garters. "Mommy, can I borrow your handcuffs?" "No, Honey," Mommy shook her head. "The choice of restraints is up to the dominant." "Wow," Kathy sighed, "this dating stuff sure has a lot of does and don't."Oh, I'm sure you'll get the hang of it," Mommy gave her daughter a soft kiss, then opened the box on her dresser that held the family jewels and took out an antique pearl stick pin. "This was my mother's favorite, Kathy. I'd like you to wear it tonight." "It's lovely, Mommy, but I don't have anywhere to put it," Kathy looked puzzled. "I'm not wearing a top." "Oh, you don't need a top for this little piece," Mommy abruptly seized Kathy's left breast and plunged the thick pin through its milky white flesh. "Mommy!" Kathy swooned in shock. "How could you?" She looked down at the thin streams of blood that trickled from the pin's entrance and exit points. "I'm bleeding, Mommy, how could you?" "That's the mark of quality jewelry, Honey. I wouldn't let my daughter go to the Hood & Noose wearing cheap costume stuff." Mommy wiped the tears from Kathy's eyes, "now remember, just let the blood run down your chest." "Okay, Mommy," Kathy smiled bravely. "I guess I can suffer for fashion." Late for Dinner Chapter 22: Picture Perfect "You're incredible," Kathy's mouth dropped as Christi took off her coat. "Oh, this," Christi shucked. "It's just the outfit Mom made me for the Submissive Miss pageant." "No wonder you won," Kathy admired her blue-eyed friend. Christi's thick brown hair framed her high-cheekbones and dazzling smile with soft cotton candy curls, then cascaded over white shoulders and firm full breasts. An elegant floor-length electric blue gown began just below her bosom, the split front made a thin inverted "V" that unveiled her bare pubic mound. But most striking were the sparkling silver stockings that rose from blue 4-inch heels; the tops were attached by silver clamps to the girl's nether-lips. "Oh, Christi," Kathy tenderly touched the taut flesh garters, "doesn't it hurt to be stretched like that?" "Exquisitely, Dah-ling," she kissed Kathy on the cheek, "exquisitely. I can't wait to thank that little Masochism teacher boy for turning me into the happy sex fiend I am today." "Yeah," Kathy drooled, "and the Secretary of Education got famous coaching champion sex-ed teams. I'm sure we'll find plenty to ... talk .... about." "Oh, hello Christi," Mommy gushed as she entered the living room, "you look divine. But," she looked around, "where's Carol?" "Mom went to pick up some film," Christi hugged Mommy. "She said you're taking her to Junior League, I think that's great. She needs to get out more." "Carol will be a wonderful addition to our stable," Mommy fondled Christi's breasts. "It's not every day that we get a celebrity who's willing to give it all for charity." "She's really cool," Christi smiled and leaned into Mommy's palm. "Say, where's the rest of the family? I think this is the longest I've ever been here without Billy cumming on my face. He does still love me, doesn't he?" she winked. "Didn't Kathy tell you?" Mommy was now holding Christi from behind and cupping both of her breasts. "Mr. and Mrs. Potter invited the kids for a sleepover, although," Mommy grinned wickedly, "I doubt they'll get much beauty rest." "Yeah," Kathy smirked, "and I don't think Billy has a clue about the Potters' hobby. They may just open up 'dear brother' in ways he's never even dreamed of." Carol knocked on the front door and let herself in. "Sorry I'm late," she apologized. "I just wanted to get some snapshots of our little princesses before they head off to the ball." Mommy's caresses had Christi's nipples standing at full attention. "Wait just a minute, I want to add one final touch," she released her grip, then asked Kathy to hold Christi's arms behind her back while she produced two lengths of narrow silver ribbon from her purse. Christi squealed as Mommy pinched her nipples tight and tied each with a festive bow. "There, all done," she smiled a satisfied smile, "now, they're picture perfect!" Kathy lay on the couch, spread her long legs and fingered herself as Carol's camera clicked again and again. Not to be outdone, Christi eyed Grandad's dildo on its stand and posed provocatively over its giant tip. "Careful, Dear," Mommy cautioned, "you'll bruise your ovaries." "Cool!" Christi exclaimed. "A little squirt of lubricant and I'm there!" "None of that, young lady," Carol corrected. "Your date may want to bruise them himself." "Okay, Mother," Christi patted the phallus's chrome head. "Some other time, Big Fella," she sighed wistfully. There was another knock at the door. This time it was the driver of the stretch limousine now parked in the driveway. "Well, here we go!" Kathy kissed Mommy goodbye as the driver opened the trunk and motioned for the ecstatic debutantes to climb inside. "Wow, my first real date," Kathy hugged Christi in anticipation as the trunk lid closed above them.

Chapters 19-22

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/18162.txt

T.S. Fesseln

The Trick and the Treat

"So when are you going to take these things off me?" Tonya asked in her sultry voice, displaying her handcuffed wrists to her husband as he drove their Toyota pickup. Grant smiled his lopsided, 'I-got-something-up-my-sleeve' smile, "I left the keys at home..." "WHAT!" Tonya nearly shouted. "I didn't think we would need them at the Halloween party tonight, Tonya-love, so I just didn't bring them," her husband said, knowing full well that one of the pair of keys hung on his keychain. "Great, what if we get pulled over or something, Grant?" "Well, it'll save the officer time in cuffing you, huh?" Grant grinned, taking his eyes off the road briefly to look over at his wife in her Arabian harem-girl's costume and taking delight in how her rich, dark African skin complemented the reds and golds of her outfit. Tonya just growled and sat back in her seat. Their costumes this Halloween had been her Grant's idea. He had dressed as the sultan Schariar and Tonya was dressed as his wife, the exotic Scheherazade. Tonya had spent many hours behind the sewing machine to create their costumes and by the stares they received at the party, their outfits were worth her efforts. Grant's costume was a tapestry of whites, golds, and blues. His vest, which just covered his muscular chest, was done in white and embroidered with gold and blue thread and had glass jewels for buttons. His deep blue, billowy pants were held in place by a long white and gold sash in which he stuck a cheap scimitar he had bought. Tonya watched him and thought how wonderful her husband looked wearing it and had decided he was worth her efforts also. It complemented his swarthy, Italian looks and his grinning blue eyes. He had even grown a Van Dyke beard for the occasion, making him look even more devilish. Grant glanced over again at his wife. Tonya could see the boyish mischief in his eyes and crooked smile. She wondered what he was up to. The handcuffs that she wore were not part of her plans for her costume. They were snapped on just before they went into the lobby. Grant just asked her to close her eyes and hold out her hands for a surprise he had for her. Tonya, of course, did and felt the cold manacles click around her wrists. She was very surprised and before she could utter a single word of protest, her husband just ushered her into the lobby filled with Halloween partiers that found the ballroom too noisy. Tonya was still fidgeting with her cuffs when Grant wrapped a leather collar around her neck and fastened it. "Grant!" Tonya growled under her breath, "take these off NOW!" "You don't want to make a scene, do you?" He grinned as he kissed her cheek, "you are supposed to be my harem slave..." "WIFE, Jerry, Wife! Scheherazade was the sultan's wife, not prisoner," Tonya said, holding up her cuffed hands. "A minor detail," he whispered, kissing her lightly behind her ear, "besides, it could be fun. Besides, all you have to say is our secret word..." "But the collar..." Tonya's resistance to the handcuffs was dissipating as her thoughts of what they might do after the party flowed through her like a warm aphrodisiac. "I need you to keep close to me, Tonya-love, I wouldn't want you to escape with another man now would I?" Grant then snapped the chain lead onto Tonya's collar, pulled her toward him, and gave Tonya a deep, lingering kiss. All during the party, that is how Tonya stayed, handcuffed and leashed. She learned quickly to gracefully drink her wine and hold her veil up at the same time. She also let Grant feed her the hors d'oeuvres from the buffet. Occasionally she would see herself in the long mirrors which graced the ballroom, a slim dark-skinned woman with long, raven tresses and a costume that did not leave much to a man's imagination. The handcuffs and collar added much to the sexual mystique of her character as Grant led her around and talked and joked with the other couples they knew. Even dancing slow, her husband embracing her as smoky jazz numbers swirled about the room as they swayed back and forth, the handcuffs sparking a forbidden kind of wantonness in Tonya that made her feel like the most desirable woman in the place. The magic of the Halloween party seemed to drift with them into the parking lot and into their Toyota truck. Grant even helped his wife fasten her seatbelt. Now, driving home, her hands still locked in front of her and the warm Florida winds caressing her skin even through the diaphanous silk of her costume, the erotic memories and fantasies of the evening seemed to keep her temper about Grant and the keys at a minimum. It was reckless of him, but also very daring in a sexual way. It was the thought of being like this, the danger of it, that somehow got Tonya's libido moving into high gear. "I love you," she said, looking at his profile as he concentrated on the road ahead. "A moment ago I thought you were going to trade me in on a better husband." "I thought about it, but breaking a new one in would be a lot of work. I think I'll just keep my old, worn husband around. He's broken in and comfortable." "Like your old bunny slippers at home?" Tonya smiled, "Yes, like my old bunny slippers." "Well this old, comfortable husband has cooked up a wonderful dessert just for you." "So that was what you were doing in the kitchen while I was getting ready." "Yep," he grinned, "fixing you up a gourmet delight." "I don't know, Grant," Tonya said, "I had a lot to eat at the party and I need to keep an eye on my figure..." "I'll love to keep an eye on that figure of yours tonight, Tonya-love. Besides, you WILL have to eat this dessert. I made it just for this evening." "What is it?" Tonya asked, her curiosity piqued. Grant smiled that same wicked smile, "You'll see soon enough. It's a surprise." "I remember your last surprise," Tonya said with a smile, jingling her handcuffs. The streets on their way home were empty save for a few cars passing them. Grant laid his hand on Tonya's thigh and let his fingers brush up and down it, gently caressing her leg as he did so often at home when he laid beside her in bed. Tonya knew Grant loved her long, lithe legs and she loved the attention they got from him. Grant's fingers lightly traced little circles on Tonya's inner thigh and she unconsciously parted her legs as his fingers drew closer and closer to her silk-covered quim already damp from this evening's games. Tonya closed her eyes and let a little moan out as his fingers began to caress her sex through the silk. Tonya's sounds of pleasure always turned Grant on. The more noise she made, the more driven he would become. Her moans were an aphrodisiac that he could not get enough of. Now, as he felt his wife's pussy slowly thrusting into his hand, he found it hard to concentrate on driving. It was with great reluctance that he withdrew his hand from between Tonya's legs. "No, Grant, please?" his wife asked in a wounded voice. "Soon, Tonya-love, soon. We're almost home." It seemed like hours before they pulled into the parking lot of their townhome. The embers of bliss burning between her legs needed more attention, but Tonya was always uncomfortable pleasuring herself. Her mother had caught her once and the embarrassment of that moment had stuck with her to this day. Tonya needed the ministrations of a man's touch to get her off. The parking lot was deserted save the darkened cars that filled it. Grant pulled their pickup right underneath one of the parking lot lights and switched off the engine. He took his time, methodically turning off the headlights, setting the parking brake and easing his seatbelt off, letting Tonya's anticipation fan the desire that Grant knew was smoking inside her.Grant took his time going around the side to open Tonya's door. He was constantly amazed by this woman; his wife. The cards had been stacked against them. He could still hear his mother warning him that mixed marriages don't work and that it wouldn't last a year. From what Tonya said, her parents felt the same way. It took time, but the love and passion they held for each other won over both of their families. They had now been married five wonderful years and the flame had not died. Tonya was a bank teller when Grant had met her. He would go in daily to make deposits for his small vacuum-cleaner business and he would always make sure Tonya was his teller, even if she wasn't attending the commercial accounts counter. After some time, Grant finally asked her out and Tonya agreed. It was a wonderful evening of pasta and wine and dancing, and by the time Grant kissed her goodnight, he knew he would marry her. "Come on, Grant," Tonya complained, then in a hushed voice only Grant could hear, she said, "I want you." Grant leaned forward and kissed her lightly through the open window before opening her door and unfastening her seatbelt. Tonya could have done that, but she wanted to feel her husband's hands on her as he unbuckled her out of her seat and helped her out. Tonya still had her leather collar on as well as the chain lead dangling from it. After Grant held his wife out of the car, he nabbed the chain and pulled his wife towards him, put his arms around her and kissed her deeply. After a moment, Grant felt his wife pull away a bit. "Why don't we continue this inside," she whispered. Grant grinned and led his still bound wife through the parking lot to the door of their townhouse on the other side. Amazingly, they found their carved pumpkin still intact, and its eerie, orangish eyes were still scrying any trick-or-treaters that may have tried their door. Grant took his time finding the right key and opening the door, just as he had in the truck. But soon, the lights to their home were clicked on, and Grant was leading his wife toward their kitchen. "Ready for dessert?" He asked Tonya. "I was hoping for a large appetizer first. . ." Tonya trailed off. "Soon enough, Tonya-love, soon enough." Grant clicked on the kitchen light, and Tonya saw that her husband had been busy while she was getting ready for the party. One of their kitchen chairs had been placed in the center of the room, and lying beside it in neat piles, several coils of rope. "I see that I am going to be your captive for a bit longer now, hon." "Uh, huh," he said, pulled his wife towards himself by her lead and embracing her tightly. Their lips met, and their kisses were slow and tender at first, but soon their tongues started their heat dance of passion around each other. Tonya's manacled hands began to caress her husband's chest, easing underneath his vest. She could feel his erection against her thigh as she began rubbing herself against him seductively, enjoying the attention his warm hands were giving her. Grant's hands explored her curves beneath the mist-like silks of her costume; the small of her back, the curve of her hip, the swell of her breasts. His thumbs played with her now stiff nipples through the thin fabric, sending little whirlwinds of pleasure to fan the wanton embers already glowing in her womb. Soon, his fingers untied the knot holding the front of her halter together, and his warm hands cupped and kneaded her breasts until little purring moans escaped her lips. Her husband's kisses left Tonya's lips as he kissed her neck and played at her earrings with his teeth and tongue. Grant's lips moved lower down her neck and started between her breasts. Tonya lifted her cuffed hands over his head and cradled the back of it with her confined hands. His tongue and lips began to kiss between her breasts as his fingers began to pull at Tonya's dark nipples. Grant's kisses travelled still lower as his hands now settled on her hips and began to play with the straps of her bikini, slowly pulling it down, inch by inch until the black curls of her nest were revealed. "Now I think you are ready for a treat this Halloween," Grant said, helping his wife step out of her bikini and pantaloons. Her husband led Tonya to their oaken kitchen chair and helped her get seated. Her chocolate-colored skin now glistened as if her body was made of polished walnut wood. Grant admired her physique as he looped the soft nylon rope around Tonya's slim ankles and bound each to the back legs of the chair. This made his wife sit on the edge of the chair, her dark nest open and her natural incense beckoning to Grant like opium to an addict. His wife's thrusting movements towards him did not help either. It took a lot of will to not take his wife right then and continue with their Halloween bondage game he had planned for weeks. Tonya was comfortable with their bondage games that Grant sprinkled into the love-making to keep things all the more passionate. When Grant tied each of her slim ankles to the back legs of the chair, she felt as if some gasoline had been dumped onto to her inner fires. Her sex was now open to him to do as he pleased as she sat on the edge of her chair. As much as she tried to get him to pay attention to her down there, Grant would not oblige and continued to bind her so that she was more and more helpless. "So what IS my Treat, hon?" she asked in her most sultry voice. "Oh, something I whipped up," he replied as he raised Tonya's manacled hands over the top of her head and back, tying them off to the backrest, "Comfy?" "I wouldn't call it that," she squirmed a bit, as much for him as for herself, "but I'll let you know if it starts to get too uncomfortable." "Good," he kissed her lightly on the forehead and disappeared in back of her. Tonya heard her husband rattling around in the refrigerator. She thought she heard the moving of the ice-cube tray in the freezer, but she wasn't sure. She tried to look back at him, but the way she was tied, she couldn't crane her head back far enough to look at what he was doing. "I think this is going to be more a trick than a treat," Tonya said, hearing her husband turn on the water in the sink. "I think you'll like this. Now close your eyes and don't open them until I tell you." "I don't know if I want to. I remember what happened the last time you asked me to shut my eyes." "I could always blindfold you. . ." "Okay, okay, they're closed!" Tonya heard her husband walk around in front of her. She could smell his after-shave and something sweet and tropical. But nothing happened. Tonya knew her husband was just waiting for her to open her eyes without being told to, and she knew she wouldn't do it. She also knew Grant was taking his time and admiring her helpless form, so she struggled a bit, hoping her gyrations would prompt him into getting on with his treat so they could get on to other things in the bedroom. "Open wide," Tonya's husband asked, and she did. The cold didn't come quite as a shock, having heard the ice-cube tray being rattled, but it was a bit of a surprise. She wasn't expecting a popsicle. She ran her tongue over it, delighting in the Pina-Colada flavors that washed through her mouth. As her lips and tongue explored her treat, she realized that he had carved it into a phallus, and she began treating it as such; sucking and licking it as if it were her husband. "Do you like your treat?" Grant asked. "MMMMmmmmmm," she purred. "You're going to have to finish it all if you want me to get you out of your bind, Tonya-love. I froze the key into your treat. . ." "What!" Tonya's eyes flew open. "I didn't tell you could open your eyes yet, darling," Tonya's husband chided, "now I am going to have to blindfold you. . ." "Did you really freeze the key in there?" she asked. "Yes, I did, but it is attached to the stick so you couldn't choke on it or anything. You're going to have to lick and suck your way free, Tonya-love." "You're an evil man, you know that, Grant Belzano." "It was the woman I married that drove me to it," he replied, taking off his red silk sash to use it as a blindfold. Tonya accepted the blindfold without any fuss. In fact, she enjoyed being blindfolded. It seemed to heighten her other senses and made her husband's attentions that much more pleasurable. Again, Grant fed her the large popsicle. His wife's full lips engulfed its frozen shaft hungrily, slowly drawing it out of her mouth until she could only lick the tip. He teased her with it, letting her lick at it several times before pulling it away, only to bring it back to her lips. It did not take Grant long to pull up a chair opposite his wife so he could be comfortable while watching his wife enjoy his 'treat'. Tonya loved Pina-Coladas, and the sweet, tropical flavors trickled down her tongue with every lick she could get. Her husband continued to tease her with it, taking it away so her tongue would only caress empty air. Tonya then felt the cold kiss of her treat on her right nipple. It was already agonizingly stiff from her imaginations and fantasies about what Grant would do to her next, and the cold of the popsicle made her awareness of its stiffness that much more. She could feel him slowly trace the dessert slowly over her one areola, then the other until the painful bliss of it made her squirm involuntarily in her bonds. Then Grant leaned over and took one into his mouth. The heat and raspiness of his tongue and the nibbles of his teeth upon her nipple soon sent her inner fires raging; not out of control, but very nearly so. He repeated the performance on her other nipple. "Fuck me," Tonya said in an erotic haze, "I want you NOW." She felt the cold kiss of the popsicle press against her sex, causing her to buck away. "NO!" she squealed, but her husband continued to tease her swollen lips with the frozen confection. "Now Tonya-love, how am I going to give you a treat if you don't perform a trick or two?" Tonya heard her husband say as she felt her husband's hand spread her moistened lips and reveal her swollen clit. "No," she repeated, writhing in her bonds. The frozen touch of the phallic popsicle upon her clit drove her over the edge as he rubbed the dessert over it. Her mind was a whirlpool of fiery pleasure as her passions overwhelmed her. Her body bucked, and she screamed her ecstasies. If she weren't tied to the chair, she thought briefly, she would have fallen off. It was a minute or so before she realized that he had stopped caressing her sex and had brought the dessert back up to her lips. She sucked at it hungrily, her lips engulfing the shaft. Grant then let go after the popsicle was firmly between her lips. "Uuhmmmm?" Tonya questioned. "Just hold on one second, honey," her husband replied. Tonya felt the popsicle press into her mouth as Grant tied a ribbon to its stick, then around Tonya's head, effectively gagging her with it. "Errannn," she pleaded into her strange gag. "What, Tonya-love, I can't understand you," he whispered as he began anew on her breasts, kneading them and softly pinching her dark nipples, "If you need to be untied, Tonya, you know the magic hum." Tonya indeed knew their magic hum, but the popsicle gag was not uncomfortable yet, just unexpected. She could suck at its sweetness, but she had to think about it, for Grant's attentions elsewhere distracted her wonderfully. She could also feel the popsicle's juices running down the sides of her mouth, over her chin. Grant saw this too and licked her chin clean, though a bit dripped onto her chest. Her husband's kisses soon trailed down between her ample breasts and over her stone-smooth stomach, where his tongue tickled the edges of her navel. Tonya's desires began to flare again, the fire never really out. Her hips started to rock, and Grant had to hold onto her hips to settle her while his kisses continued downward. Then Grant stopped. "UUUHHHH?" Tonya questioned through her popsicle gag. Grant didn't say a word as he undressed, watching his wife's dark, curvaceous form squirm in her bonds as she mewled behind her gag. The juice of the popsicle was now trickling down from her mouth and over her breasts. Her skin now glistened like polished walnut, and the black curls of her nest were damp with her need. Tonya bucked her hips shamelessly, wanting him to finish what he had started within her. After a bit, Grant took pity on his wife and began massaging her nipples again. This time, he barely touched them; just slightly brushing his fingers over them and letting her desire do the rest. By this time, Tonya was nearly mad with lust. She felt like a wanton slut, willing to do anything just so she could feel her husband's attentions. However, all he would do is caress here and there, just enough to turn up the flames within her, then stop. She squirmed and pleaded and did everything that she could do while being bound as she was, but it did little to alleviate the itch she needed to have scratched. She then heard him setting something down, something heavy and wooden from the sound of it. "Hold on, Tonya-love," he whispered in her ear, "I am going to lift you up so I can pay a little bit more attention to you." Grant grabbed the back of Tonya's chair and lifted it up on the wooden dais he had made a few weeks back. There was a shallow hole for each leg, and the chair settled in them at just the right height so he could position himself between his wife's open legs. Tonya felt the head of her husband's penis prodding at her moistened lips, and she wiggled the best she could to try and impale herself upon it, but her bindings were too strict. With her butt on the edge of the chair, she knew all he had to do was lean forward and thrust into her, but again he just teased her. "I'm going to jack-off now. I hope you don't mind," her husband told Tonya. "NNNNUHHHH!" she yelled into her frozen gag, "Uhhh-uuhhh." But Grant did, his hand grasping his shaft and moving up and down, his swollen head tickled by the moist curls of her nest. He wanted to come so badly, but he wanted to tease his wife just a little longer... Just when she didn't think she could stand it much longer, she felt her husband's cock plunge into her and begin ramming into her like a demon. The flames of her pleasure turned into a whirlwind of fiery passion, and she lost herself in the frenzy of bliss. She bucked and screamed and fought against her bonds as she felt her husband's cum squirt into her, setting off another violent orgasm within her. Then, slowly, he withdrew from her. Her popsicle gag had fallen out, having mostly melted. She was still blindfolded as Grant untied her ankles and the rope to her manacles. She was still shaky. "When are you going to take these things off me?" she asked again in a sultry voice, displaying her manacled wrists. Grant kissed her forehead and helped her out of the chair, "I think you need to finish your treat in the bedroom this time." A Happy Halloween to all at ASS and ASSM. T.S. Fesseln

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/16818.txt