Split (1)

train · 122k rows

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66,060	Wendy G	Lucy Learns a Lot	Young Lucy finds babysitting a learning experience... Lucy arrived a little late for her babysitting job. It was her first time sitting for Elaine, who didn't seem all that much older than Lucy herself. Elaine was beautifully suntanned, had a lovely figure, and when Lucy looked at her, it made Lucy feel strangely excited. When she arrived, Elaine was rushing around making last-minute arrangements. "Nicky's in bed upstairs, fast asleep - I don't think she'll be any trouble. There's food and coke in the fridge - you could watch the television, or read those magazines over there. Just make yourself at home. Big Boy is in my bedroom there. He'll look after you..." She smiled in a strange way. "If you like dogs, you can let him in here with you - but don't let him misbehave..." Again, she looked at the girl with a strange look in her eye. "Unless you want him to, of course," she added with a smile. "It's up to you, my sweet. How old are you, by the way?" "Thirteen." "You look a bit pale. Are you feeling all right?" "I've just had my first...you know." "Oh, so you're a woman now, are you? Still, I don't know, I mean about Big Boy.... Hell, why not, if you want to? " She laughed. "You are pretty, aren't you?" She threw her arms around Lucy, embracing her tightly. Her mother never embraced her like this. Lucy could feel Elaine's soft breasts pressing against her, her lower stomach pushed hard against hers. She didn't want Elaine to let go of her. She looked up at her. Elaine was looking down at her fondly. She wanted Elaine to kiss her. She thought she was going to, then Elaine broke away and disappeared out of the door. Lucy didn't understand what had happened between her and Elaine - nor a word of what Elaine had said about the dog. Big Boy could stay where he was. She would watch the television. As she went forward to switch on the TV, she heard whimpering coming from the bedroom, and the dog scratching against the door. She ignored him. The TV was terrible - not a single program she wanted to see. She wandered over to the pile of magazines in the corner. The usual women's things - baking and cooking and things like that. Near the bottom of the pile, there was a foreign magazine in a language she didn't know. On the front cover, she was shocked to see a color photograph of a nude woman holding herself 'down there'... Lucy put the magazine down, then lifted it up again. She looked at the woman closely - the woman had large breasts and broad hips and was smiling - she looked as if she had her fingers up inside herself and had a sexy, swooning look on her face. Lucy felt a strange sensation at the pit of her stomach. She felt she would love to fondle the woman's breasts, put her own hand down there on her.... Marjorie at school had asked Lucy, in the changing rooms, to put her hand down there on her. "Just touch it," she'd said, "just feel me." Lucy had wanted to, but couldn't do it - but just thinking about it afterwards gave her that same strange feeling she had now in her lower stomach. She knew she'd feel Marjorie now, get her to feel her too, if she got another chance... She opened the magazine. There were more naked women touching and kissing each other - one was kissing another between her legs. The sinking sensation in Lucy's lower tummy was getting stronger. She slid her hand down her own tummy, down between the tops of her legs. She pressed the lumpy sanitary towel up into herself. It felt nice. She closed her legs around her hand, holding it hard against her sanitary towel. She moved her hand, tight up against her, in and out. It felt warm, and nice. It made her smile. But after a while, the sensation faded, leaving her feeling something like a kind of itch inside her, and pressing the sanitary towel into her didn't help any more. It just felt too dull and far away. She wanted to bring back that nice feeling... She turned another page of the magazine. This time she was even more shocked to see a woman with a large black Alsatian dog.... She closed the magazine. Her heart was pounding in her chest. She could hardly breathe. Her lower stomach was churning. No, she couldn't. No. No. She opened the magazine again. In one picture, a woman had her hand on the dog's willy. She was holding it, and the dog was sniffing her front-piece. Out of the dog's willy, another willy, large and pink, stuck out. It was very big and glistening. In another picture, a woman was kissing the dog's willy, the large pink part in her mouth. In the next picture, the woman was lying back with her legs open, holding open her front-piece, and the dog was licking her. In the last picture, the woman was kneeling on all fours, and the dog was up behind her, as if she was a dog herself. These pictures made Lucy feel so hot and wet in her own front-piece. She heard the dog scraping at the door. No, she couldn't. She couldn't. But as she thought about it, that feeling inside her welled up again. She became breathless again. She threw down the magazine and covered it up with the other magazines. She went to the kitchen and brought back a can of coke. She sat in the chair, but she couldn't get rid of the excited feeling running riot inside her. She couldn't. She couldn't.... The dog was quiet now in the bedroom. What would be the harm in seeing the dog? Talking to it. Letting it lie on the floor through here with her. It couldn't be anything like the dog in the magazine. She got up and went to the bedroom door. As she approached it, she could hear the dog come to the other side and scratch. It whined. She turned the handle, opened the door, and a huge, heavy black Labrador walked past her into the sitting room. She couldn't do anything with a great big dog like that. The dog lay down in front of the fire, looking up at her. "Come here, boy," she said, but it didn't budge. "Here boy!" Still, it didn't move. She went over to the window and carefully closed the curtains. She locked the outside door. She went back into the sitting room, closed the door, and sat down on the couch. She was getting very excited. "Come here, boy," she tried again, but it didn't move. She went to the bathroom and removed her pants and the sanitary towel. She went back and sat on the couch. "Here, dog," she said again, but still it didn't move. She lifted her skirt, easing it up from under her. She opened her legs. Still nothing. She was getting very excited and angry with the dog. She went over and knelt beside it. She clapped its head, and at last, it moved, rolling over on its back, revealing its large, hairy willy and balls. She clapped its head, throat, its chest, working her way slowly downwards. Did she have the courage to touch that thing? She felt very hot between her legs, and wet. She hoped she wasn't bleeding - her sanitary towel had been free of blood, but not of a thick, slimy fluid. She touched the dog's willy. It didn't flinch. She touched it again, then again. She held her hand on it, curled her hand round it, squeezed it. She felt the excitement come back to her front-piece. But the dog just looked up at her. She rubbed the willy and the dog's large balls, and her heart stopped when a little pink tip appeared out of it. She rubbed it a little more, more of the pink part appeared, hot and very pink. She felt the wetness running down her leg, and the feeling in the pit of her stomach felt even stronger. She kept rubbing. Soon the dog's pink willy was well out - it was enormous and moisture appeared at the end of it. The dog began to whimper. She leaned forward and found herself kissing the tip of the willy, then taking it in her mouth. What was she doing? The dog pulled away and got to its feet. Lucy stood up and took off her skirt. The dog came forward and sniffed her front-piece, then began to lick her. The feeling was lovely. She opened her legs. The dog put its hot nose up into her, licking and licking her. She sat on the couch and pulled her legs up with her heels resting on the edge of the couch. The dog was getting very excited now, whimpering and nuzzling her. She opened her legs as wide as she could. The dog put his tongue right inside her, licking furiously and whimpering. The feeling inside her was wonderful. The dog was now trying to get up on her, trying to mount her legs, pushing the great pink willy against her. It was getting frantic, its great pink willy swaying, and throbbing, bigger than ever, a thick juice dripping from its tip. It suddenly struck her - could she? Could she? Like a dog? She knelt down on the floor, pushing her bottom towards the dog. The dog sniffed her and licked her.'Come on, Big Boy,' she said. With that, the dog mounted her as if she was a bitch in heat. He thrust at her, and she helped him find her own throbbing place. The dog's willy began to slip a little inside her. It was painful, and she wanted to stop, but the dog pushed further in. She felt something give way. The dog still pushed. She could feel a bulge in the dog's willy hard up against her. The dog seemed to want to push the bulge into her, but it was impossible. Even the willy felt too big. The pain changed into a good feeling. The dog had gripped her waist with its front paws and was now thrusting the delicious, huge, pink willy in and out of her. The feeling inside her was unbelievable. The dog thrust harder and harder, and the willy seemed to swell within her. She felt herself sinking, sinking, and then, suddenly, a great rush of electric pleasure made her grip the dog's willy with her frontpiece, harder and harder, harder and harder. The feeling of pleasure soared and soared within her to an unbelievable climax as the dog filled her frontpiece with hot juice. She felt weak and drained. The dog's willy began to soften inside her, and the dog dismounted and went back to lie in front of the fire, licking its willy. Lucy lay on the floor for a while, savoring the pleasure that she'd felt. She suddenly remembered and went quickly to the bathroom and washed herself. She checked on Nicky, then went back to the sitting room, unlocked the door, tidied everything up, and sat on the couch. The dog was sleeping. She had just opened another can of coke when Elaine came in. 'What are you smiling about?' Elaine said, then caught sight of the dog. 'Oh, I see.' She laughed. 'You'll be wanting to come back and babysit again?' 'Yes, please,' said Lucy, laughing back at her. 'I'm home a bit earlier than I thought. Don't rush your coke. You can tell me what you got up to with Big Boy.' Lucy blushed. 'I don't think so.' 'Don't worry, dear. It was me who trained him.' She turned to the dog. 'Didn't I, Big Boy?' The dog came to her and immediately thrust its nose up between her legs. 'Now, now,' said Elaine. 'I thought Lucy here had exhausted you?' The dog kept pushing her between her legs with his nose and whimpering. She opened her legs, and the dog pushed his nose right in. 'What will Lucy be thinking, Big Boy?' The excited feeling had returned to the pit of Lucy's stomach. She looked at the dog. The large, pink willy was pushing its way out, dripping juice. 'He is getting excited, isn't he? But I don't think we're quite ready for him yet, are we?' Elaine led the dog away and shut him in the bedroom. She came back and looked at Lucy, smiling. Slowly, she began to pull off her pullover and unfasten her bra. Her large, soft breasts fell forwards, giving Lucy a sudden hot feeling between her legs. Elaine had a beautiful figure. 'You like my breasts, Lucy. You'll have breasts like these yourself one day.' She now had all her clothes off. 'You don't want to join me?' Elaine came up to her, still smiling, and began to remove Lucy's jumper and blouse. Lucy felt so excited she couldn't do anything. She felt Elaine removing her skirt and pants. Soon, they were standing facing each other, naked. 'Go on,' said Elaine. 'Feel my breasts if you want to. You can't take your eyes off them.' Lucy stretched out her hand towards Elaine's breasts. 'Go on, they won't bite you.' Lucy opened her hands and pressed them against Elaine's breasts. 'Move them around. Caress them. And the nipples.' Lucy filled her hands with Elaine's breasts, kneading them gently. Elaine closed her eyes and groaned with pleasure. The nipples became hard and stood out. 'Go on, don't be afraid.' Elaine stretched out her hands, one on each side of Lucy's head, and drew Lucy's head in towards her breasts. 'Kiss them. Suck them if you want to.' Lucy took one of the large, hard nipples into her mouth and sucked it. She felt Elaine gasp with delight. 'Go on. Suck me. Suck me. Suck me.' Lucy felt Elaine's hands on her own little breasts. Her enlarged nipples felt strange and tingling. Elaine played gently with her nipples. The feeling was lovely. Then Elaine bent down and sucked her nipples. She groaned with pleasure. 'You are finding things out tonight, aren't you, my dear.' 'Yes,' said Lucy, her voice hoarse with excitement. Elaine brought her head up level with her own and kissed her full on the lips, pulling her naked body in against hers. Her tongue was deep in her mouth. Lucy felt a wonderful swooning feeling, holding Elaine tightly, feeling her soft breasts pressing deliciously against her own. She had never felt so aroused and excited.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/19/lucy.txt
66,320	Ted Danish	Exchange Student	Young Dot spends a year in Paris as an exchange student. She shares a bed with 18-year-old Charlize, with whom she has her first sexual experiences. Dot, along with the rest of her family, was much too busy with survival in post-war Germany. Social amenities for young teenagers were non-existent. Life for a mischievous and playful girl-woman was nonetheless exciting. But sexual awareness had not played a large part in this young girl's life until, much to her surprise, she learned she was to be an exchange student for the following school year. Paris, France. Dot's father had made the arrangements. She was sort of looking forward to new surroundings and new adventures. Dot took the overnight train from Wiesbaden, Germany to Paris, and her host family picked her up at the train station. They seemed pleasant enough... the parents, Claudia and Jean, were thirty-something. A typical French family, with three teenagers, they lived in a small but homey flat. The oldest, Charlize, was pretty and dark-haired like her mother. She was eighteen and did not have to share her bedroom with her younger, male siblings. One of her young brothers was to reside with Dot's family at the same time. For the following year though, Charli would be sharing her bed with the tall, slim German girl she nicknamed Dot. Now that they had met, Charlize was looking forward to her new friendship. Charlize was promiscuous, but not necessarily by European standards. At her age, she knew just about all she had to know about sex. She had a good teacher... Claudia, her mother. Living in close quarters did not allow for much privacy around the house. Seeing family members naked was pretty much unavoidable, and they thought nothing of it. They had become accustomed to catching their parents making love. Charli's parents, never embarrassed and never stopping what they were doing, just shooed the children from their bedroom. Charlize and Dot got along famously. Called Charli for short, she was an outgoing, fun-loving teenager. Dot, two years younger and impressionable, wanted to be just like her. Charli was so worldly... so Parisian. And she was beautiful. A marvelous body that Dot loved to look at and didn't care why. They filched Jean's cigarettes and would sneak off to be alone, smoke and talk. Charli's parents did not approve of their children smoking. Wine, however, was plentiful from breakfast to supper. Every evening at bedtime, Dot would climb into a warm featherbed in a haze of red wine and Charli. And, Charli's pillow talk about her young sexual experiences was opening a whole new world for Dot. Charli told Dot about the young men she jerked off but wouldn't suck and about the ones she allowed in her panties but wouldn't fuck. And about what she had seen Claudia and Jean do on numerous occasions, describing Jean's penis as it penetrated Claudia... several different places. Sometimes Charli would spy on her seemingly unaware parents and then run quickly back to her bed to masturbate furiously. Claudia, on the other hand, couldn't resist watching her daughter hiding in the darkened hallway spying on her and Jean's lovemaking. Although she had taught Charli to masturbate properly, thereafter Claudia gave her all the privacy she needed. Charli loved to play with her pussy. Since Charlize freely discussed sex with her mother, Claudia knew about her limited experience and that she was still a virgin. And no experience with other girls. Yet. Charlize was still exploring the wonders of a stiff cock. Cuddled up together every night was lovely. Inevitably, the girls began to explore each other. Young Charli was thinking that she was indeed fortunate to have this beautiful blonde German girl all to herself and in her bed. This would be new to both of them. They had taken to playfully feeling and licking each other's young, not fully developed breasts. Charli would invariably end up fingering her pubes. Dot watched in the dim light and was enthralled. Dot yearned to touch Charli's pussy. One night Dot placed her hand on Charli's busy fingers then positioned her own hand at her pussy to simulate what Charli was doing. Charli thought, "Now, we're getting somewhere!" It was her opening to explore Dot's opening. "Look, dummy, like this," said Charli, reaching for Dot's crotch. Charli slipped her index finger between her friend's labia. "Ooooooh, Dot, you're juicy!" Charli's finger was doing something that Dot had never imagined was possible. She was about to experience her first orgasm. Charli removed her fingers from the young blonde's pussy to reposition herself and get comfortable for her task. "No! Don't stop, Charli," Dot whispered as she wrapped her arms around Charli's neck to pull her back. "It's wonderful, please do it some more!" Charli pushed Dot back down on the bed, then placed her head under her friend's knees better to see Dot's almost hairless pussy. A very fine, almost white down sparsely covered Dot's young, firm mons venerus. Charli resumed her diddling. Spreading Dot's labia with one hand, she surrounded her clit with index and middle fingers. She made small, slow circles at first. Just like her mother taught her. "She's learned her lessons well," thought Claudia, standing in the darkened hallway. She and Jean had gotten used to the girlish cavorting every evening. This particular night, Claudia had crept down the hallway to Charli's bedroom and could see her daughter and Dot in the moonlight from the window. She had already sucked-off her husband, but a little too much dinner wine put him to sleep quickly. Claudia was left to her own fingers. While she was concentrating on an old fantasy, she could hear the girls whispering and moving about on their bed. She wanted to see. Claudia's bisexual experiences were many. Jean was aware and didn't mind his wife's occasional liaisons with her friends. He enjoyed her trysts, his trysts, their trysts. Claudia liked young girls. Claudia was about to enjoy her daughter's good fortune also. "Ch-Charliiiiize!" Dot thought she would wake the house. Then almost breathless, whispered, "Charli, I'm cumming." Dot had never heard the term, but at that moment she knew that's what was happening to her. She was going to cum. Charli's finger turned the trick. She was still trembling, "I want to do you, Charli," then she kissed her. Charli knew about kisses, French kisses. Charli first licked Dot's lips, then inserted her tongue in her friend's mouth. Dot eagerly reciprocated. She again felt Charli's fingers squeezing and tugging at her pussy lips while they kissed, then felt Charli's mouth at her pussy. Charli's mouth? She was thoroughly enjoying the kiss, Charli's soft hands gently pinching her nipples, and the wonderful mouthing she was receiving at the same time. Charli and Dot broke the kiss simultaneously and looked down to see Claudia skillfully bringing Dot's hips back to a quivering, involuntary humping mass. Dot felt like she was watching some other girl, somebody else, getting her young pussy thoroughly bathed by Claudia's mouth. Dot was surrounded by wonderful, warm, sensual pleasure. Her body was quaking, trembling, shivering, her arms tightly around Charli's neck, sucking on her lover's tongue. But, she was on a cloud... soft, warm, secure. And, she didn't want to get off. But she did. Dot wondered at the taste of her own juices on Claudia's lips when the older woman kissed her and said, "I want to teach you girls how to have pleasure with another woman." Charli shrieked with anticipation... and woke Jean in the other bedroom. Claudia instructed the girls to, "Lie down head to foot on your sides. Rest your heads on each other's thighs. Pretend that warm, loving flesh before you is your own, then make it feel good." Claudia knew both girls would forever love the taste of another woman. With outstretched arms, Claudia's fingers were gently massaging both girls' pussies as they tentatively lapped at each other. She felt their tongues on her fingers trying to get past. Then she felt Jean's hard cock against her face. It was making her cheek wet. She opened her mouth and turned her face. His hand went to the back of her head.Jean watched the girls intently, slowly fucking his wife's mouth. Charli became aware of her father and what he was doing to Claudia. She had witnessed this before. Jean was not allowed to fuck Dot, and he was not one to fuck his own daughter. Claudia was adamant about returning damaged goods. Poor Jean. However, Claudia took the opportunity and the rest of the year to show the girls how to suck cock. Poor Jean. Dot went home still a virgin, so to speak. She had found herself in more ways than one. She had learned to eat pussy and suck cock from one of the best. Dot began an apprentice job at a local sekt distillery. In France, it's champagne. In Germany, it's sekt. It was there she found Goody. Gudrun. Too hard to say, so we called her Goody, and she was Dot's best friend when I met them. After many years, I still remember the aroma of her cunt in my face and looking straight up and seeing John's dick in her mouth. I could see Dot's hands massaging Goody's wonderful breasts from behind. Goody....	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/18/exchange.txt
66,395	BiPandora	Master?	You risk a look upwards from your position on your knees. Your eyes follow the lacing of the leather boots in front of you, the sheer black nylons that disappear under a short black and red skirt... and then your head is pushed downward again forcefully. Your shoulders tense, waiting for the strike. When the crop hits your sweat-slicked back, it only stings a little. She is not terribly displeased. The boots walk around to behind you, and your breath catches in anticipation. Your Mistress grabs your wrists and ties them tightly behind your back, lashing the silken cord through the collar she had made for you. You can feel the strap that binds your cock and balls vividly. You feel the leash clip onto the thick green collar, and you see her boots start off down the hall. The leash tugs at your neck, and you crawl as gracefully as you can behind her, your head bowed low as not to evoke the wrath of the other Masters or Mistresses in the house. As you follow her, you spy the other pets of the house. They are all engaged in the sole purpose of their worlds... pleasing their betters. You can see a pretty redhead trussed with her limbs tied behind her, a dark cloth wrapped around her eyes, shining silver clips attached to her clit and nipples, lying on her side, her Mistress idly whipping her breasts or belly as another pet brushed her hair. You wonder briefly what she did to be tormented so, and your cock throbs at the thought of such torture. She stops so suddenly, you barely have time to react. You stumble on your knees, and sheer will keeps you upright. To fall in front of the others... unthinkable. She would be most unhappy with you. You glance ahead covertly to see a long pair of silky white legs and 4" stiletto heels standing very close to your Mistress. As the left pale leg lifts up against her boot, you realize it is your Mistress's former Lady. You know the pale Lady is kissing her and cupping her large breasts. You steal a glance higher to see... as you thought, the pale Lady is rubbing your Mistress's pussy with a finger and licking her mouth. A very sharp tug lets you know you were seen. Your head drops again. The pale legs move up next to you. You must pay your respects, gracefully. Your knees already aching from your walk, you lean forward to kiss the pearly ankle. She lifts her leg and rubs it against your face. Then she walks away. Mistress walks slowly into a great room, heading for her favorite chair, high-backed and deep-seated, she can lounge however she feels comfortable. As she sits in her throne, you crawl up next to the chair and wait... your head bowed low in obedience, your arms aching from the strain. Your cock is aching too... you want to please her, but she is fickle. There have been days where she left you panting with desire, unable to pleasure yourself, unable to seek relief for the excruciating pleasure-pain deep in your balls. She drops the leash and smacks your cock lightly with the crop. You want to cum badly, but to do so without invitation would be subject to terrible punishment. She is rubbing the crop under your balls. They are thrust forward by the strap... it feels increasingly smaller as your desire mounts. She then lifts your chin to look in your eyes. Her brown eyes like chocolate, amused by your suffering, her deep, red lips curling upwards to a devious smirk. She stretches her leg out in front of you, and you kiss her boot lovingly. She nudges your mouth with her leg, and you kiss the tight black leather again... she wants you to pleasure her. You duck under her leg and rest it on your shoulder and lick the boot up to the skin of her knee above it. She sighs... and you continue. Softly nibbling your way up her leg, laving the tiny bites with your tongue, you glance upward to your destination. Her stockings are torn through the center, leaving access to her rose-colored pussy. Your cock is throbbing painfully as you breathe deep of her scent. You pull back slightly, looking into her face, you dive in. Your transgression is met with a stinging blow from the crop, but she doesn't stop you. Your tongue is curling around her swollen clit, pulling on it, sucking it, drinking her nectar. She moans and presses her pussy to your face. You tease her by licking around the entrance to her moist depths. Her legs wrap around your shoulders and pull you closer, but you still deny her... you want to sink your cock into her and pump her insides with your pleasure, but she has never allowed it, though once, she paid for another pet to service you... a reward for winning praise from a Master on your grace and obedience. Still caught in your teasings, you were unprepared for the boots kicking you backwards. You land on your arms, still tightly pinned to your back, your breath whooshes out of you. She stands about you, her legs on either side of yours... you can see her dripping pussy under her skirt. Your breath is returning as she drops to her knees and violently tears the strap from your aching cock... and impales herself on it... you almost cum right then. She rides you hard; crying out her pleasure as she finally gets what she wants from you. You can feel her pussy sucking and milking your solid cock, you are holding back, and tears fall from your eyes from the effort. She pulls off of you quickly, her passion spent, her breasts heaving... she stands and grabs your collar and pulls you up to your knees... you cry silently, your pain overwhelming... she turns from you and drops to her knees once more, presenting her ass... she looks over her shoulder and tells you, you may cum, my pet. You shudder violently at the words and push your steel-hard cock into her ass. Her lube is still on your cock, helping it slide into her tight passage. It is so tight it hurts, and she clenches her sphincter ever tighter, and you gasp. She looks at you once more over her shoulder, and you lose consciousness... you wildly slam your cock into her ass for a few moments, the torture from the last few days backed up in your aching, engorged balls... and then you cum. Hard. You hear an inhuman cry from far away and then realize it's from you. Your cock pulses, jerks, throbs your cum into her ass. You feel her fingers in her pussy on the other side of the wall, you can feel her orgasm tightening her pussy, her ass, her body... her whimpers reached your now empty balls, tickling them... your sore knees give out, and you slump forward onto your breathless Mistress... you dare to stretch your neck up and whisper to her, "Who's your Master now?"	Mdom/F, bi, tor, bd	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/60/master.txt
66,494	Jonbrian (address withheld)	Aunty Jean, Her Daughter Jane and Me	You will recall from Aunty Jean's last submission; Aunty Jean: Another Visit To My Niece - by Anon in Directory 59, that her daughter Jane almost caught us at it and as a result gave her mother a spanking and insisted that if Aunty and I were to do it again then she should receive an invite. All this of course follows our threesome as printed in Aunty Jean, Her Daughter Jane and I - by Anon in Directory 57 and a group session in Aunty Jean: Monday Morning, And The Rest Of The Day - by Anon – in Directory 58. This of course gave me food for thought so I developed a plan that would enable the three of us to spend some "quality time" together. During our little meeting earlier, Jane had mentioned that her husband was going away to see his elder son, from a previous marriage, and their new baby. I suggested that Jean might like to go and spend a couple of days with her daughter as they now had a much better relationship and that I would drive her there. This also gave uncle a bit of space as the cricket season had just begun and it meant he could have the Test match on all day without any interruptions. At 9:00 am prompt, I picked Jean up and, bidding John a happy 2 days of cricket watching, we set off on our 50-minute drive to her daughter's. The route we took passed through lots of villages, and so I had no opportunity to play with my septuagenarian lover: much to hers and my own frustration, so by the time we arrived at our destination, Jean was climbing the walls in frustration. While I was unpacking the car, Jean went and rang the bell, and a couple of minutes later, Jane came to the door and let us in at the start of what I hoped was going to be a busy couple of days and a night. I have to say that my first view of Jane was a bit of a surprise as she was dressed in a black, tight-fitting, knee-length skirt, white blouse, and black blazer; very funereal! Having made our way up to her first-floor sitting room, we had coffee, which was already laid out for us, and sat chatting. The atmosphere seemed a little tense, which, considering the moments we had shared recently, seemed rather strange. After half an hour, Jane suddenly picked up the TV remote and, with the press of a couple of buttons, the picture came on, showing the scenes from my bedroom where Jean had dealt with my hapless cleaner, Sheen, some weeks earlier. "I see, Mother, that you still enjoy dishing out the discipline, just as you did with me all those years ago and, of course, somewhat more recently. Jonathan thought I might be interested, so he sent me a copy for my edification. I have to say, you haven't lost the knack. That poor woman's bottom looks rather red and sore. As for what you did to her afterwards, well. Quite the little dyke, weren't you?" While she was speaking, Jane was striding round the room in quite an animated fashion. "I have decided; that is, we have decided that for today, we are going to have some role reversal, and so, in a moment, I want you to go and get changed and then come back here. Jonathan and I are going to be your parents, and you will be our child; subject to our rules and codes of discipline. I want to see how you feel after a day of doing as you are told, or not as the case may be. Disobedience will be punished in whatever way I see fit, and good deeds will be rewarded in whatever way Jonathan feels is appropriate. I am, however, confident that by the end of the day, you will have a very sore bottom and, I suspect, a well-fucked cunt and buggered bottom hole. Now, off to the bedroom and change into the clothes I have left out for you, and be quick about it." I was amazed to see Aunty meekly rise from her chair and make her way slowly upstairs with just a brief look back at me, a question in her eyes. "Up you go, Jean; we do not want to start the day with a spanking." My voice was firm, belying the 1,000 questions racing through my mind. So, off she went, and I turned to see Jane walking through to the dining room, where she decorously bent and pulled her tight skirt up to her waist, displaying first her naked buttocks, no knickers today I thought, then, as she turned, her neatly trimmed bush before she seated herself on the dining table and laid back, raising and spreading her legs, exposing her cunt. "Quickly," she gasped, "we just have time for a quickie before mother comes down again. Fuck me and fuck me hard; now." Never one to refuse, I moved quickly toward her, unzipping myself as I went. Standing close, I presented my cock to her gaping portals and thrust. God, she was so wet, I slid into her hard and fast, so that it was hilt-deep in her cunt, and she was crying out. Holding her thighs, I carried out her instructions and gave her a short, sharp shagging, then dumped a load of come in her spasming vagina. Still deep in her, I asked her what was going on. Jane explained and confirmed what I had suspected. During her childhood, her mother had frequently dished out some quite severe discipline, and she recognised that through our new-found relationships, she now had a chance to get her own back with a bit of help from me. A noise from the door, and I turned to see Aunty stood meekly in the doorway. What a transformation. Gone were the twin set and pearls to be replaced by what I can only assume to be Jane's old school uniform. White blouse and school tie, a bib-fronted gymslip, white knee socks, and black flat-soled shoes. Strangely, this did not look too incongruous as Jean's slight form lent her a waif-like look. "Excellent, young lady," said Jane, "now I have a little cleaning job for you, so come over here and kneel down beside us. Jonathan has just given me a good fucking and filled me with his come. I do not want to be leaking all morning, so after you have sucked his cock clean, you can lick me out and freshen me up with your tongue. Jump to it!" No hesitation, no complaints, just meek acquiescence from my aged lover. Jean slowly, arthritis being her curse, dropped to her knees, and as I pulled my cock out of her daughter, bent forward and took its now softening length into her mouth and sucked me clean; before giving my prick a gentle kiss on the top and easing it back into my trousers and zipping me up. Turning, she faced her daughter, who was still lying back on the table, legs braced wide apart, her cunt, glistening with our juices, level with her face. With her left hand, she parted the sticky flaps and exposed the entrance to Jane's vagina, showing a large dribble of come starting to leak out of it. Bending forward, she ran her tongue up the length of her slit, catching the drip and drawing it into her mouth, and then swallowed deeply. Back she bent, and in an instant, was lapping furiously at her daughter, working her tongue deep into the exposed and slippery hole that was so open and vulnerable. I knew from her cock-sucking that both her mouth and tongue were extremely agile, and it was not long before Jane's hand was clasping the back of her mother's head, forcing her mouth harder against her cunt, and her hips were writhing in time to the tonguing she was receiving. In a matter of minutes, Jane was crying out as she orgasmed for the second time that day. With that, Aunty sat back and looked up at me, the lower half of her face covered in the remnants of my come and Jane's own secretions; a wry smile on her face. "Well, Aunty, that was a good girl, and I believe you have had your reward with a small taste of my come," I said. "Not so," said Jane, slowly getting off the table and lowering her skirt. "My instructions were quite specific; I told her to clean us both, not bring me off. Go and bend over the back of the armchair, lift up your skirt and lower your knickers. Jonathan, go and get your slipper, as I intend to give her six of the best for her disobedience; just as she did to Sheena, your cleaner. Now, Mother; do not prevaricate!" As I removed a slipper from my hold-all, I watched as Jean moved into the lounge and assumed the position over the back of the armchair, before taking hold of the hem of her gymslip skirt, raising it up onto her back, exposing her bottom now covered in a pair of navy blue school knickers. I felt my hardness returning as another of my fantasies started to be played out before my very eyes. "Knickers!""Feet apart, about 12 inches and hands on the seat of the chair. Do not move while I am slippering you, and on no account must you try and cover your bottom. Any breach will result in another harder swat from the slipper. Do you understand?" "Yes, dear," was the quiet reply from Aunty. Jane held out her hand and I passed her the slipper. "Is this the one mother used on your cleaner?" A nod from me, "Good, it seems rather fitting, do you not agree?" She flexed it and tapped the leather sole against her palm, testing its flexibility and weight. The black leather upper shone in the sunlight pouring through the 1st-floor living room window. Swiftly, she moved over and stood to the left of the chair over which her mother was so vulnerably bent, and gently tapped the sole of the slipper on Aunty's bare bottom, eliciting a little gasp from Jean. Without warning, Jane's arm went up and flashed down. The room was filled with the sound of leather on naked flesh as she delivered the first swat. Jean groaned and wriggled her bottom, but managed to remain bent over, and I watched as her cheeks began to flush red, right at their apex where the first blow had landed. Up and down went the arm, and the second blow landed squarely on the right buttock, followed immediately by another to the left. Jean's cries this time were louder, matching the severity of her slippering, and her gyrations were more pronounced, but still she remained bent over the chair. Jane's hand came down and fondled her mother's glowing bottom. "So far, so good, mother, only three more to go, and then it will be all over. Are you beginning to understand how that poor woman must have felt, and indeed how I have felt each time you spanked me as a child and even more so recently?" "Now hold still and let me finish." With that, her left hand came down onto the small of Aunty's back, holding her still, as in rapid succession, Jane slippered her mother's bare bottom twice more, leaving Aunty gasping. "Last one, mother," as the slipper was raised toward the ceiling, then brought flashing down to land squarely across both reddening bottom cheeks with a resounding "thwack," at which Jean cried out, and her hands flew round to grasp her squirming buttocks, trying to soothe away the stinging that must, by now, have been intense. "Do not move," said Jane as she produced a safety pin from her jacket pocket and deftly pinned her mother's gymslip skirt to the back of her tunic. "Now go and stand in the corner while Jonathan and I have a cup of tea, and then we will decide what you have to do next." Slowly, Jean raised herself up from her bent-over position and hobbled to the corner, where she stood facing the wall, her bare and well-slippered bottom exposed and red. "Hands on your head, now!" And so she went and made a cup of tea, and as we sat, I mentioned to Jane that watching her slipper her mother had been quite a turn-on and that I felt in need of some relief. To my chagrin, she told me it was far too early for that, as she wanted me so worked up when next we fucked that she had no intention of letting me down from my current state of arousal for some time to come. After half an hour, Jane let her mother return from the corner, unpinned her skirt, and pulled her knickers up before sending her off to make us some lunch. Some twenty minutes later, we were eating some very tasty sandwiches, whilst Jane explained her mother's next task, which was to do some simple homework as part of the role-play we seemed to have fallen into with consummate ease. Whilst Jean sat at the table, bottom perched on a soft cushion, Jane and I watched a little television, and she proceeded to continue with her efforts to build my sexual frustration. In full view of Aunty, she unzipped my trousers and, extricating my cock, proceeded to give me the most frustrating blow job I have ever experienced. Each time I felt an orgasm approach, she would stop, leaving me high and dry, my cock throbbing with passion. I could see from the look on Aunty's face that she was seething with envy as her daughter gave her younger lover such a protracted and skilful oral treat. At last, homework was finished, and I marked the work that Jean presented me. It was a pretty poor effort, resulting in marks of 11 out of 20. Jane wasted no time in pulling out one of the dining chairs and seating herself, promptly pulling dear old Aunty over her lap into that time-honoured position for dishing out an over-the-knee spanking. Up came the gymslip to be folded neatly at the small of Aunty's back, then her navy knicks were pulled firmly up between the cheeks of her rosy red buttocks, and then her spanking began. The room resounded to the sound of Jane's palm slapping down on her mother's upturned posteriors. With each slap, Aunty gasped and wriggled, but the hand that was pulling her knickers up tight between her cheeks helped to hold her still, ensuring each spank found its mark and left a glowing imprint of Jane's palm. After 30, she stopped and just sat, caressing her mother's bottom and looking like the cat that got the cream. "Mmmm, I can now see why you spanked me so often, as I am really rather enjoying this, although I doubt that you share my pleasure, do you, mother?" Jane purred as she continued to stroke her mum's glowing orbs. "Now, Mother, do you remember the first time Jonathan buggered me when I was in a similar position to that which you now find yourself in? Well, I think it is time for him to repay the favour. Jonathan, go and fetch the KY, you know where it is." Off I trotted to the bathroom, and on my return, handed the tube of lubricant to Jane, who deftly parted her mother's buttocks and, flipping up the cap, squeezed a generous helping of the cold jelly into Jean's now exposed anal opening. A moment later, Jean was groaning as Jane inserted her middle finger through the tightly clenched muscle that was protecting Aunty's bowels. I gazed on, fascinated by the lewd image created as that probing finger worked in and out of the tiny hole that was Jean's anus. A louder gasp as a second finger was added, opening her wider, and then Jane was beckoning me over. Undoing my zipper, I extricated my throbbing cock and positioned myself directly behind Jean. Jane grabbed my cock with her right hand, whilst parting Jean's buttocks with her left. My cock was positioned against the sticky opening to her bottom, and with practiced ease, I thrust home, and all 8" slid deep into the dark, hot recesses of my 76-year-old lover's bottom. "Do not come; I want all of that lovely stuff of yours for myself. A five-minute buggering should suffice; now get to it, J." So, bugger her I did, with my usual skill, enjoying the feel of her taut muscle, gliding along my swollen rod, managing to hold my climax back. While my cock was sliding in and out of its tight sheath, I decided I had to retake control of this situation, so as the five minutes ended, I pulled out and turned towards Jane at the same time as I grabbed her by the back of her head, turning her towards me and came, sending thick jets of come all over her upturned face and into her open mouth. Jane was soon awash with the stuff, which had gone up her nose and into her hair and eyes, and as I rubbed my softening cock over her face, she took it into her mouth to suck the last drops from the tiny slit in its head. It was now time for a breather, as we were all drained.	FFM, nc, inc, generational, oral, anal, spank	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/60/auntyjean3.txt
66,727	Foolish	Sweet Sixteen - 2	Yeah, Rachel really threw me for a loop, and it was hard to get my head on right around her, but the amazing part was I really didn't want to. I was enjoying someone who was playing along, who was having fun with me, and knew it was all for sex, she changed me, and changed my plans for good. I extended my trip, which was a strict no-no, longer exposure puts me at greater risk of being caught... and that was the last thing either of us wanted. But I couldn't get enough of her. Sixteen-year-old pussy is hard for any man to resist, and a girl like Rachel, who knew what I was about, and knew what I had done to get her, and didn't care was a treasure that I couldn't pass up, even if it meant prison. Rachel couldn't wait for the weekend to be over. Casey had agreed to cover for her for the weekend, and she planned to spend the whole time with John. They had met every other day or so for two weeks now, coming up with different scenarios and acting them out. And this weekend was going to be a special one. This was going to be two days of her living a scenario, and she was really looking forward to it, but at the same time, she wanted the time to crawl by, because after this weekend, John was going back home (he still wouldn't tell her where) and they would be reduced to chat programs again. And that wasn't enough for her. She loved the feel of him inside of her, filling her pussy and groping her breasts, and she already missed the taste of his cock and the feel of it in her mouth. She blushed a little at the thought. Two weeks ago, she had been a virgin, and now she felt like such a slut. He was more than twice her age, and had a life and a job wherever he lived, and yet he was staying here to be with her, to have sex with her, and fulfill her fantasies. And she loved it. She sat now in the last class of the day and waited impatiently for the day to end. She could feel the wind on her sex under her long skirts as she wasn't wearing underwear. Every time she started thinking about him, she got all wet and sloppy and ruined another pair of panties. So she had stopped wearing them for now, just until her hormones were under control. And shorts were out of the question, as they would stain just as easily as the panties. She had to keep a low profile, and that was just what she did. When the bell rang for the day, she dashed to her locker and deposited her books, then made a beeline for the door. She wanted out of there before anything could happen. Once she was out in the open air, she headed for the bus stop, pulling her student ID out and getting on the bus. She rode downtown and headed to the taxi stand. She paid the driver to take her to the designated meeting spot for today and off she went. John, on the other hand, had the day to prepare. Another new hotel room and plenty of time on his hands, and he had things set up. Once he snuck Rachel in, he planned to lay down the scenario and see what she thought. It was going to be a rough one, but if she agreed, and he had no reason to think she wouldn't, she would be his, and at his mercy for two whole days. And he planned for her to be naked for those two days. He planned for her to be tied to the bed for at least half of one day, and to be in cuffs and a collar for the rest of it. But most of all, he planned to cum in every one of her holes, to bathe her in semen before she was done, and to leave his mark on her for good before he went back to Phoenix and resumed the long-distance relationship. He was done setting things up and got dressed to head out to the meeting site to wait for her. He was in the ratty old car he had bought and had the suitcase in the trunk ready for her. But today there would be a twist. She couldn't get in it with any clothes on. It was a risky thing, making her strip outside and put on the cuffs and collar, the ball gag and blindfold, and then he would tie her ankles and put a vibrator in her pussy before the trip. But he wanted to see how far she would go. They had a secluded place to change her over, and it wouldn't take too long. He just wanted to see what level of trust he had achieved with her. And he planned to use that trust to his full advantage. She had managed to shatter his composure that first time, but he had it back, and he was back to being the user, the master in their relationship. And she was the sex object, the pet. She was his sweet candy girl. He met her on time, and she slipped into the seat beside him. He looked over at her and smiled. She wore a long skirt, no panties, a tee with no bra, and sandals. This might be easier than he thought. "I have a surprise for you, Candygirl. I have a scenario for us to act out. You remember the last time we were together and I said I wanted to have a long-running story with you? Well, here it is. I want you to be my slave girl. You've been kidnapped from your bed, your clothes cut away, and you've been bound and gagged, and stuffed in a suitcase for transport. You could hear through the fabric when they moved you that you have been sold for a quarter million dollars to your new owner, and he has taken you away. We'll act it out from there. What do you think?" She smiled hugely. "I love Master/slave play! Let's do that! You have me all weekend, to break and use as you choose. Load me in the suitcase, and let's get going." "It's not that simple, Candygirl. You have to be dressed for the part. Look in the glove compartment." She opened it and took out what lay within. A ball gag, blindfold, collar, handcuffs, a broad Velcro strap, and a remote-control vibrator. "You want me to put these on, right? I can do that." "Oh, so very much more than that, Pet. That is all you'll be wearing before you go into the suitcase. You'll change right here, and I'll walk you back and close you into the suitcase. With your feet and hands restrained and that vibrator in you, turned on and controlled by me. Further, this will be more than play. There are no breaks, no safewords, and few rules. I will lay down my three promises though." And she knew he would keep his promises. He always kept them, every time he made them. "One, I will not mark you permanently. Two, I will always use a condom. And three, you will have the time of your life, Candygirl. We'll have two one-hour breaks every day and one tonight, but other than that, you'll maintain your role at all times." She looked like a deer in the headlights, looking out the window of the old car at the little rest area they were parked in. There was no one around to see them, but she was nervous as hell about it. But the very idea of being his toy for two days was turning her on already, and she was eager to see how it played out. She started putting on the collar, then stripped her shirt off, kicked out of her sandals, and slid her skirt down her legs and off before turning so he could put the ball gag in place and handcuff her hands behind her back. Then they were out of the car, and she walked, naked and scared, to the back of the car. He hooked a finger in the ring on her collar and pulled her up into a kiss. It was deep and loving, and his free hand cupped and squeezed one breast as he kissed her deeply and powerfully. After they separated, she breathing heavily and a little shaky on her feet, he opened the trunk and then the suitcase and lifted her up to put her inside. Once she was situated in the case, he blindfolded her, had her spread her legs so he could insert the vibrator into her dripping wet pussy, and then used the Velcro straps to bind her ankles and knees together. She was trussed up and ready to deliver. Looking down at her, he had the idea of heading for Phoenix right now, taking her with him, and turning their two-day Master/slave play into something a bit more permanent. But he resisted. He stood looking down at her, then took out the remote for the vibrator, and quickly cranked the speed up to maximum. Even from here, he could hear it humming. He smiled as she squirmed, and slowly turned it down to a slow, steady hum that would last for hours. Then he zipped up the suitcase and closed the trunk and walked back to the driver's seat. He was back on the road and spent an hour or so just driving around downtown.He would play with the remote at stop lights and smile at what she must be feeling, and finally turned into the drive of his hotel. It was a warm day and he didn't want her suffocating back there, after all. Putting on the glasses that completed his disguise, he went through the motions of unloading his suitcase and taking it up to his room. When he got there, he laid the suitcase on the bed and went to change, letting her rest there for a while, keeping her in the cramped, warm suitcase as he played constantly with the remote control. When he finally unzipped the suitcase and looked in at her, she was shuddering in lust, covered in sweat and squirming, trying to get some movement. He lifted her out, kicked the suitcase off the bed, and laid her on it. "Well, let me see what I have purchased for myself here. You certainly cost me a pretty penny, my little one, and bought sight unseen, as such things usually go. And all wrapped up like a present at that. I think I'll leave you as you are for the moment, and enjoy the view and perhaps take a few pictures." He already knew that she was alright with pictures; he had given a solemn oath not to post a single one anywhere on the internet, and only to keep them for personal use. And that was the plan. He positioned her in various poses and snapped pictures with his digital camera. When he had plenty, he caressed her, delighted when she flinched at his touch. She was so lovely, so soft and vibrant. And covered with sweat like this, her skin was glowing and smooth. Sexier than she had ever been before, in his opinion. He released the Velcro around her legs and ankles, and used rope to tie her legs spread out to the foot board, drawing her out snugly. She put up a token resistance, and he gave her a little sharp slap across her bare ass to punish her. Once he was done there, he repeated the process for her arms, until she was spread-eagle face up on the bed. He ran a hand down her nude body and smiled. The feel of her under his hand was so perfect. She shivered as he caressed her and then ran his hand over her pubic hair. "Well, this is certainly unacceptable. A good slave shouldn't have any body hair. Let's see what we can do about it, shall we?" He retreated to the bathroom and returned with a razor and shave gel. Lathering her up, he shaved her carefully, gently, and with careful strokes. He used his thumbs to caress her pussy as he worked and when she was done, and smooth as a baby's ass, he spread some crème from a tube over her pubic mound. She knew what it was immediately, and the burning quickly told her she was right. The heat was intense, uncomfortable and not the least bit erotic. She was whimpering in discomfort for the next five minutes, and when he wiped it off, her pussy was smooth, and would stay that way for weeks. It was also very, very sensitive. And a light caress from him excited her to no end. He smiled as he applied light touches and kisses to her sex, then rubbed an ice chip over the hot, sensitive area. She gasped and squealed into the gag at the sudden change in sensations and bucked her hips involuntarily. He smiled and alternated between his warm tongue and the ice as he played with her freshly shaven slit and caressed her, working her close to an orgasm, taking her to that very ragged edge where she was just at the cusp of going over. And then he stopped. She whimpered into the gag, moaning and trying anything to move her body enough to get that last little touch, that last bit of contact that would push her over the edge. But to no avail. She was bound too tightly, and he was making sure she couldn't get off until he was ready. And it would be hours yet before he was ready. There was still plenty of game left in him, and while he had a raging, throbbing erection, it would be a long time before he made use of it. Master/slave play was all about control, and not sex. A good master, or Dom as they are usually called, doesn't even have sex on his mind. It is all about controlling his slave, or Sub. And while he wasn't a professional, he had enough self-control now to keep from taking what he really wanted, which was her. He could fuck her any time he wanted, but this was about something more. This was about building control. And not just over her character, not just in the story. But control over Rachel herself. This was really about domination, and he planned to see to it that he didn't slip again like he had that first time with her. She had seen through him somehow, and that was unacceptable. If he wanted to ensure that she would tell no one about him, about them, and thus keep him and his hobby safe, then he had to have control. He had lost control just once and it had nearly cost him. But he had changed plans and was trying it from a different tack. And it was just a matter of time before she was his. And she was different from the other three. Far different. While Claire, Amanda, and Amy had all lost interest for him in a year or two, he had a feeling Rachel was a longer-term project, something more permanent. And with some more grooming, some more training, he would have her right where he wanted her. As his. It would be two years yet before he could really act on it, before he could take her home for good, but that was not too long to wait. A girl like this came along once in a lifetime. And he could visit often, reaffirm the bond... and he could send her gifts, and other things to bind her to him. He let her lie on the bed, shivering a bit and still blind to the room, for an hour as he sat on the chair and watched her. She whimpered and pulled at her bonds, struggled and cried, and finally gave up. That was when he touched her again. Not in a sexual way, but a firm hand on her cheek, holding her face still so he could look at it. There were tears on her face, and she was trembling slightly. Really acting the part. A thin line of saliva ran from the corner of her mouth and down to the sheets, and she was covered in dried sweat and her body was as tense as a drum. This was the most realistic session they had ever enacted, and he was enjoying this degree of control over her. "Hmm, let's find out about you, my new pet," he said, removing the gag and listening to her whimper for a bit. "What's your name, Pet?" "I... I'm Alexis. Please let me go, I won't tell, I promise. I miss my mommy and my brother and I wanna go home." The last word was drawn out into a hitching sob, and he smiled. She was very good at this; he was looking forward to finding out just how good before he was done. "I can't do that, Pet. I paid good money to get you. Your stepfather was very eager to have you gone." That was a good touch, and he smiled at the reaction. She cried out and started sobbing. She could be an actress someday, she was so good. "Nooooooo...Nononononononono, please tell me that's not true. Please, oh please, oh please, oh please..." She stopped when he slapped her cheek and started sobbing again. It hadn't been a hard hit, just a play slap. He hadn't ever really hit her yet, but planned to before this weekend was over. He planned to take his hand to her bare ass and make it sting. He hadn't promised not to hurt her, after all. But he had to be careful with it, no bruises after all, and nothing on the arms, legs, or face. He'd have to restrict his attentions in that way to her ass and tits. But the rest of her was still on the table for anything else. He was creative enough with his bondage to keep from leaving any marks, and she knew better than to struggle too much. Cuts on the wrists and ankles were hard to explain on a sixteen-year-old girl. He let her weep for a while and returned to caressing her face, a soothing caress that was designed to relax her, to make her slowly start to trust him. "Well, I think you going home is certainly out of the question, meaning that place is no longer home for you, Pet. Leave it, and all in it, behind, your mother knew, how could she not? Her young daughter suddenly gone; her husband reluctant to even try to look for her, and a sudden large influx of cash into their bank account... Two hundred thousand reasons not to care. But don't worry, pet, I'll take care of you. The name Alexis should be left behind too. I'll call you pet for now, until I find a better name for you. But you are only to answer to pet, am I understood?" "What? No! Alexis is my name, why would I leave my name behind, mister? And who are you? Why did you do this to me?" She asked, tossing her head and trying to get the blindfold off, trying to see anything. He sighed and reached over to remove the blindfold. After her eyes adjusted to the light, she stared at him, fear and hate in her eyes as he smiled at her. "Who, who are you? Why did you do this?" He smiled and shook his head. "My name isn't important, Pet. You can just call me Master. I am your owner, your one and only reason for being. And I plan to keep you for a very long time. You are quite lovely, and from what I can see, your limber little body will make me happy for a long, long time." This elicited a sob from her, she started saying no over and over again and shaking her head. He just lifted his hand as if to slap her, and she squealed and turned away from him, cringing against the blow. He nodded and laid his hand on her chest between her breasts. Smiling, he caressed her skin and hummed a soothing song for her as she settled down and she slowly turned to look at him again. "Please just let me go, please oh please. I don't want to stay with you." "Where would you go, Pet? Tell me where you'd go and I just may? You can't go to the police, you promised not to tell anyone, ever. And promises are very important; they should not be made lightly."Once you make one, you are honor-bound to keep it forever. So where else is there to go? She opened her mouth to say "home," and stopped. There was no home, no place for her to go. "I... I don't know... I just don't. But please, oh please, I don't want to stay here. I don't want you to hurt me." "How have I hurt you, Pet? The little slap I gave you? You were hysterical and were going to hurt yourself. I just gave you a little something to focus your attention. And it worked - you are no longer hysterical. You are restrained for the same reason. I will shelter you, feed you, clothe you, and all I ask in return is that you provide me with some form of recompense. Sex is a small price to pay for all I offer, Pet." "Stop calling me that! My name is Alexis! Alexis, not pet." He grabbed her then, his hand shooting up from her chest to her neck, and he hopped up on the bed to straddle her and he pushed her back into the pillows with the hand on her neck, fingers slowly squeezing to cut off her air as he placed his face an inch from hers. He let her choke for a moment, his weight on her chest coupled with the hand on her neck bringing real fear to her eyes as he watched. Then he let her breathe again, and she was gasping and coughing as he raised his weight up and off of her. Rachel, however, had been a little scared of him ever since he picked her up. Something was different about him, and she couldn't put a finger on it. He had been colder, somehow, and more demanding. The very idea of being naked in public... and while she still didn't like riding in the trunk of the car (What if they got in an accident?), she had come to see it as a necessity... after all, if anyone saw them together, it was over. And she had been really looking forward to this weekend, so his rules hadn't bothered her. She would have liked a safe rule, but she understood why he didn't use one. First, it detracted from the feel of the session. Second, with the gag and his choking her, she couldn't use the word. She had played along, using the fake tears that got her so much from her parents to add to the realism of the session, and he had played along great! But now she was scared as hell. She didn't mind the slap; she was hoping he would slap her harder next time, but the choking had scared the hell out of her. His eyes were so cold and hard when he had been looking at her. And he had been really choking her, not playing at all. She had trouble breathing, and her throat still hurt even after the coughing stopped. She lay on the bed, feeling suddenly very exposed and very alone as he watched her, and felt herself as tense as a guitar string. Then he was off the bed and still looking at her. "What is your name?" "Alexis," she stated very firmly. He nodded once and walked over to a briefcase sitting on the dresser. Opening it, he rummaged around inside and returned with something. Sitting on the bed, he took her breast in one hand and held up the item with the other. It was a clamp. The kind he had explained to her was a cloverleaf clamp, designed to be used on the nipple. He looked at her with the clamp in full view and asked again. "What is your name?" "Alexis," she said defiantly. He opened the clamp and lowered it to her nipple. He didn't close it slowly, but let it snap closed on her nipple hard. She gasped, but didn't cry out. "Alexis, my name is Alexis." He clamped the other nipple, and she could see there was a thin chain connecting the two clamps. They had little teeth that bit hard into the tender flesh of her nipples and stung, but they didn't really hurt. And then his hand went lower, caressing her pussy and he carefully extracted one of her labia with his fingers, pinching it ever so slightly as he looked at her and produced another clamp. "Alexis... I'm still Alexis." He lowered the clamp to her bald pussy, and she could feel the cold steel against her flesh as he held it for a moment, and then let it snap closed. This time she really had to work to stifle the scream. A sob hitched her throat, and she looked away as real tears, much hotter than the fake ones, rolled down her cheeks. She felt him prepare her other labia and squirmed, trying to get away from him. The pain was a lance up into her middle, and his face had been so passive, so cold as he hurt her... but she remembered that it was just a game, and that he wasn't really like that. She looked back at him, and he was holding another clip, looking at her. "Alexis." The fourth clip closed with a snap on her pussy, and she cried out once, the pain sharp and stabbing as she squirmed, trying to get away from the pain, but the clamps were firm on her flesh, and she couldn't shake them off. He gave her a bit to settle and gently took the chain connecting the ones on her nipples and slowly pulled it taut. As he tugged a little more, the design of the clamps caused them to tighten, and she had to arch her back off of the bed more and more to keep them from squeezing too tightly. He pulled until she couldn't arch up any more and then just a hair further and held her there. Eventually, her strength would give, and she would have to relax, causing the clamps to become much, much tighter on her nipples. He held her there for a while, and as she started to shake and whimper, at her strength's end, he pulled up hard, once, drawing a cry from her before releasing the chain and letting her fall back. She was shaking all over and covered in sweat as he gently took up the chain attached to the clamps on her labia. Looking her directly in the eyes, he cocked his head to one side. "M... my... my name is... is... Pet, master," she said, turning her face away from him and sobbing a little. He had succeeded in starting to break her, and she knew she had to give in eventually. He nodded and carefully removed the clamps from the lips of her pussy and set them aside. He let her sob, coming to terms with what she had become, caressing her chest with his hand, caressing her breasts and inner thighs with careful touches and slow caresses. He had shown her pain and now pleasure, a reward for accepting what she was now. He was careful of his progress, making sure that he took her slowly to the very cusp of pleasure again, before stopping once more, before again denying her what she so desperately sought. He knew her pussy was tender, a little sore and very sensitive from the Nair he had used to remove the roots of her pubic hair. It left the skin super sensitive, and the package recommended they not have any sexual intercourse for at least two days. But he didn't care about the package. He planned to leave her weak and quivering and remembering him for a long time after he left. She cried when he stopped, and squirmed around, trying to get that last little bit that would push her over the edge, but she still couldn't get there - he had her too well tied. "Please, oh please, master, please let me cum. I want to cum, master." "Not yet, pet. You still have lessons to learn. You can never refer to yourself as 'I'. You are just 'Pet' now. Say what you just said again, but properly, this time." "Please, master, please let Pet cum. Pet wants to cum, master." He spent the next two hours like that, she tied to the bed he brought her, just to the brink twice more before leaving off, leaving her more and more frustrated and more and more agitated, more frazzled and more desperate to climax. Then he untied her legs, letting her squirm around a bit, but delivering a sharp crack across her ass with his hand when she tried to use her legs to get herself off. "You will only climax when I say you may, pet. Do that again and you'll spend the night in full restraints as well as the gag and blindfold. Am I understood?" "Yes, master. Pet understands, master. But pet wants to cum sooooo badly, master. What can pet do to be allowed to cum?" "We'll see soon, Pet. We'll see soon. But I wish to cum too. Will you let me fuck you, pet?" "Oh, yes, master. Pet knows she is yours, master. Please fuck pet, master." He smiled as he turned from her. She had given permission just as he knew she would. He put on a condom and returned to the bed to kneel between her legs. She spread them willingly and raised her waist up a little from the bed for him, and he simply spread a little blob of lube on the end of the condom and took her by one leg to lift her up higher, then lined his cock up and smeared the cool lube around a little. When she felt where he was aiming, she started to squirm. He had promised her he would never fuck her ass without her permission, but there was nothing she could do right now - she had promised to stay in her role as a slave girl for the whole weekend. And promises were important, he had made sure she understood that... but why was he breaking one now? "Oh, master, please, not there. Pet has never been fucked there, master, it would hurt me... pet so much." She caught herself quickly, but he still noted the slip. "Please, master, fuck my pussy." Two lapses. He'd have to really punish her for that now. "You just said I could fuck you, you begged me to fuck you, but you didn't specify where. You didn't even ask me where I would fuck you, Pet. So I can fuck you anywhere I want. And I want to fuck your lovely round ass." With that, he applied a bit more pressure, going slowly, letting her have time to adjust to the feel of his cock as it started to press into her sweet, smooth virgin ass. He will have had every one of her holes now, and when he was done, he will have pumped his semen into every hole as well. She had swallowed his seed, but he had not filled her pussy with it yet. He would in time, but that time was not now. The risk was too great. Then with a little pop, the head of his cock was in the tight heat of her ass.He applied a bit more lube and slowly started to stroke back and forth, sinking his cock a little deeper into her tight chute with every movement, and she was sobbing and moaning as he forced entry into her body. He was so large and her tiny hole was so small in comparison. She felt somewhat betrayed and violated as he pushed deeper and deeper into her with every movement. Then his hand started to caress her pussy, and soon her taxed, tightly strung sex was humming in pleasure, offsetting the burning, stretching feeling his cock was making in her ass. His hand flicked expertly over her clit and lips, and he circled her opening and slipped into her wet, welcoming heat as his cock pushed deeper and deeper into her ass. And then she could feel the hot weight of his balls resting against her ass, and knew he was in her completely. Deeper than he could go into her pussy. His cock was long and thick, and he hit bottom in her pussy very quickly, leaving almost two inches of his cock out of her body. But here the whole length of his cock was buried in her ass, and she felt a little less pain from it. He slowly worked back and forth, making short thrusts as he fucked her ass, and soon he was making long, full thrusts into her, with a little help from the lube. A few minutes in she felt the pain, steadily receding, vanish almost completely and a minute more started to enjoy the sensation, actually feeling very, very good as he stroked full length into her ass. He was going faster now, holding both legs with his hands as he rammed into her, and with a grunt, she felt his cock swell as he emptied his load into the condom. She didn't even come close to an orgasm, but she could feel pleasure from the act. It wasn't orgasmic pleasure, but the very feel of all of him buried in her body was some pleasure and after her body had adjusted and the pain diminished, she had felt some pleasure. He let his cock get soft within her before pulling out, but then he quickly slipped something in its place and she felt the cool rubber of a plug in her tender, sore hole. Then he untied her arms, and sat her up to hug her. "We'll take our hour tonight here, Candygirl." They spent the first part of the hour resting, relaxing in each other's arms and letting the tension flow out of them. She knew better than to ask questions about the game. All she needed to know was how she would react as each situation arises. She was a bit sore where he had fucked her, and her ass was tender and felt over-full from both the feel of his cock within her and the plug that still rested there. But overall she felt good, the sensations were lovely and she felt more alive than she had before today. "Are you enjoying, Candygirl?" He asked her as they began to disentangle. She nodded and sat up, wincing a bit as her weight came to rest on her sore ass. "You didn't tell me we would be doing anal. I thought you promised not to until I agreed." "And I kept that promise. You asked me to fuck you, to let you feel my cock inside of you. And that's what I did. I didn't say I wouldn't have anal sex with you. And you didn't specify that before we started. I made you three promises, do you remember them?" She nodded again as she stood, stretching a little, enjoying the feel of his eyes on her tender young flesh. "You won't leave any permanent marks, you would always use a condom, and I would have the time of my life." "Have I lied or broken any of those promises to you? Or any promise I have ever made?" He asked her seriously. He knew part of the trick to keeping her happy and quiet about their relationship was to treat her like an adult. He already knew her parents treated her like a baby, she was the youngest of three, with two older brothers who got all of the attention and affection. She had been treated like a doll her whole life. She shook her head. "No, I guess not. But this is really uncomfortable. Can I take the plug out?" He shook his head. "Not yet. I am guessing you have a too-full feeling like you really have to go to the bathroom." She nodded. "We're going to take care of that soon, then a shower, and then dinner before we get back into character. We might run a bit over the hour tonight but we'll make up for it tomorrow, promise." He planned to skip their hour for lunch completely and just continue with the session. They chatted back and forth for a bit and then moved to the bathroom. He took some things out of his bags and had her bend over the sink. Filling a hot water bottle with warm water, he attached a hose and carefully removed the plug from her tender sphincter. Then, after applying a dollop of lube, he gently pushed the hose into her ass and let the warm water drain into her, filling her bowels for a warm water enema. Mixed in with the water was a stimulant similar to GHB that acted as an aphrodisiac. He had her rinse three times then filled her one more time and replaced the plug before she could void. She would hold the fluid in her body until after the shower, to get the full cleansing and to give the drug she didn't know was there time to absorb into her bloodstream. He planned to make her cum so hard that she would pass out tonight. After the shower, she voided and he had her rinse herself off one more time before they went out to eat dinner. He had called out for room service when they were in the bathroom and it was ready and waiting. They ate and then cuddled for a bit before he had her return to her place on the bed and he placed the handcuffs back on her and they resumed the session. Rachel felt a little strange. The stuffed, uncomfortable feeling was gone from her ass, and so was the soreness and tenderness. But he had replaced the plug and now that she was back in character there was no way to ask about it. Not that it made a difference. It was part of the session, and she was eager to continue. He came to her then and looked over her slender, naked form. "Did you enjoy that, pet?" He asked in that unmistakable tone, the tone that said he was in charge and in character. To her it seemed a bit too natural for him, like he had played this role far too often or perhaps that it wasn't a role at all, like the John she knew was the character and this was the real man. But she pushed those thoughts aside and nodded to him. "Yes, Master. But pet still wants to leave. Please let pet go. Pet doesn't know where she'll go but she's so scared here." "Why are you so scared, Pet? Are you scared of me?" She shook her head a bit, then stopped and nodded. "Yes, you scare pet. You just want to own her, to keep her yours and use her body." "There's nothing wrong with that, pet. You have a lovely body and it should be appreciated. But that isn't all I want you for. I will feed you and give you a home, nice clothes and nice things. I'll send you to school and teach you a great many things and all I ask for in return is for you to use your body and all you learn to please me. And you will learn much about pleasure, and pleasing and being pleased by both men and women. Is that so bad?" She looked confused for a few moments and tugged at her handcuffs. "Can you let pet up from the bed, at least? She promises not to run, or to try and fight." "I certainly hope not, Pet. We're at my hunting lodge in the middle of nowhere. The nearest other person is an hour away by foot, if you know which way to go through the woods. If you follow the road, on foot it's four hours. And in the winter like this you wouldn't make it very far." He had given her their setting. The hotel was just the stage. Now she knew the hunting cabin was the set. The rest was just their imagination. As he unlocked the handcuffs, he watched her closely and gave her hand a light little slap when she reached for the plug. "Ah-ah that stays in for now. We'll remove it later, walk around a bit, I'm sure you are stiff. And look in the box on the table, there is a little gift there for you, when you're ready for it, that is." She walked around the room, pretending to be stiff and awkward before making her way to the table. She had wondered what was in the little wooden box and as it came open her eyes got wide. Inside, laid out neatly, was a collar with matching wrist and ankle cuffs, and a body harness all in shiny black leather and chrome buckles and rings. It was a slave harness. And there were locks on every buckle, so once it was on only the person with the key could let her out of it again. She felt herself getting wet, but couldn't let her real excitement show. Pet wouldn't be ready for this yet, and likely wouldn't know what it was either. "Wh-what's this, master?" She asked him as she lifted out the collar. He rose from the bed, as naked as she was, and came over to take the collar from her hands. "Let me show you. Lift your hair out of the way." She did as she was asked and he placed the collar around her neck and locked it shut. "There you are, my pet. A collar, just for you." She felt at it with her hands. It was a bit snug, but comfortable, lined with soft leather and fitted just for her. As her fingers found the buckle, she feigned panic. "Oh! Please no. Please take it off. I don't want this. Pleaseohpleasehplease..." He grabbed her wrists then and quickly, deftly pulled them together and slipped the handcuffs on again. She pulled weakly at them and he gave her face one of his little fake slaps. The hardest he felt comfortable doing. She acted as if he had given her the full arm, falling to the floor sobbing as he stood over her. He watched for a moment and then took the ankle cuffs from the box and locked them in place, then took a length of rope from his kit and made a few loops and knots around an arm chair as she watched. When he was done he came for her again.She crawled as quickly as her bound hands allowed into the corner and tried to hide from him. He simply grabbed an ankle and dragged her out onto the floor. When she fought him, he grabbed an arm and hoisted her from the floor, carrying her over to the table. He gave her ass a good hard slap, a real one, as she struggled, and then two more as she squirmed and fought, and she subsided into sobbing as he set her down and bent her over the table. The handcuffs were quickly replaced with the leather wrist cuffs, and she found herself bent over the table with her ankles fastened to the legs of the table with Velcro straps, and then her wrists pulled out and bound to the table with more of the straps. She was immobilized, and her ass, still stinging from the slaps he had given her, was exposed and unprotected. "Now, we are going to address a few issues. Number one: I am your master, and always in charge. You will obey me, you will pleasure me when I want, and anyone else I tell you to as well. Number two: Resistance will be punished. No one knows where you are or where you have been taken. So no one is going to come and rescue you. No one knows and, more importantly, no one cares. Am I understood? You can fight me and be punished, or surrender and be pleasured and pampered as you have never been before. Now, you have slipped three times - you did not call me master, and you did not call yourself pet twice. For that, we have punishment." From his kit, he took a whip with a few hundred long rubber lashes on it. "The normal penalty is twenty lashes for each. That, however, would leave you unable to sit for days. So I will treat you lightly, like the child you are, and give you five each." With that, he proceeded to lash her ass with the whip, giving fifteen strokes quickly, one after the other, that had her squealing and wiggling in her bonds. When he was done, he set the whip aside and came up behind her to rub his hands over her red, tender ass. He had given her real strokes of the whip, as hard as he would give if she were old enough to legally be his lover and not have to worry about marks or screaming. "Now, I know that hurt and that you are scared and alone, but I have nothing but your best interest at heart, Pet. And now I'll prove it. I will deliver punishment and pain when I need to. But I will also deliver pleasure and reward whenever I can." He began removing her bonds, leaving the cuffs and collar on her, and let her stand on shaky legs, her hands rubbing her tender, red ass. She could feel the heat from her tender flesh and had felt a moment of real panic when he had begun, wondering if she had perhaps gotten in over her head. The whip had stung and hurt like nothing else ever had in her life. But then it was over, and his caress was even more intimate and tender than before. Her sensitive skin felt so alive and hot, and surprisingly, she was wetter than she had ever been before. He placed her in the chair and pulled her arms up and over her head, tying them back with the rope so they were out of the way. Then he lifted her legs up over the arms of the chair and lifted her so her ass was suspended and tied her ankles back. With the cushioning on the arms of the chair, she was rather comfortable. A few loops of rope around her legs, and they were held immobile. And then he was kneeling down before her, one hand caressing her face and neck as the other lightly stroked her inner thighs and bare, bald labia. In moments, she was gasping and wiggling as his hands caressed her, bringing waves of pleasure and chasing away all but the memory of the pain. Then his thumb clicked a button on the plug in her ass, and it began to vibrate within her, providing a counterpoint to the attentions of his hands as he placed both around her pussy and used his thumbs to spread her dripping sex wide open. As his tongue slid over her hot, wet sex, she gasped and arched her back. Straining against her bonds, she moaned out loud and felt waves of intense pleasure build inside her, building towards orgasm. And just as before, he got her to the ragged edge and stopped, leaving her to come down as he rose and walked over to his kit. He took a few things out and returned, standing looking down at her as she was panting and wiggling, trying to give herself the release she had so far been denied. He knelt before her again and applied a bit of clear gel to each nipple and then to her clitoris and inner labia. Giving it a moment to set, he blew on it gently and smiled as he heard her gasp as the gel heated up. The gel would provide heat and increase the blood flow to the areas where it was applied, granting her greater pleasure. Coupled with the tenderness of her sex from the hair remover and the heightened senses from the drug, it should give her the most powerful orgasm she had ever had before. He went back to playing with her then, toying with her clit and labia, licking and kissing at her pussy and inner thighs as he felt her pleasure grow and diminish by turns, each rise taking a little less time and each fall taking a little more. When he had her at the very edge of sanity, he gave her five straight minutes to relax and come down off of her crest as he carefully rolled on a condom and applied one drop of the drug to the tip. Her breathing was ragged, and she was covered in sweat, her pussy dripping juices and her nipples hard and sensitive. He lined his cock up with her pussy and smeared the drug around the rim of her opening. She gasped at the contrast between the cold liquid and the heat of her sex. His hands came up to caress her nipples as he kissed her neck and jaw, but never the mouth, never the lips. She was arching up to meet him, her dripping wet sex open and inviting, and he let her be on that ragged edge for a moment before thrusting forward with a single long, smooth stroke to fill her. She cried out and pulled hard at her bonds. The little ribs and dots on the condom caressed and massaged all along her canal as he thrust into her. He didn't slow, but kept his attention on her breasts and neck as he thrust into her rapidly over and over again. Her first orgasm crested less than a minute later and was followed very quickly by two more. And as he caressed her and plunged his cock deep into her heat, each thrust carrying him as deep into her as he could go without hurting her, he felt her cum no less than six times. Until finally, she cried out long and hard, gasping for breath, and collapsed in the restraints unconscious. He smiled at this, caressing her face and neck with his hands and untying her carefully. He hadn't cum, but he hadn't planned to. The condom was just in case, and it kept him from getting any of the drugs in his bloodstream in addition to being an additional stimulant. He laid her out on the bed and carefully slipped the harness on her. A strap around each thigh in place of a garter, a pair that crossed between her breasts and kept a metal ring there were connected to a belt that ran around her waist and then down to the garters. And a few more criss-crossed across her belly with several of the chrome rings to keep them in place. There were plenty of places to attach all manner of toys, and he attached the wrist cuffs to rings on her waist, replaced the blindfold and placed a bit in her mouth and the long vibrator dildo filled her slick, tender pussy. He took pictures of her in several different poses, then fastened her ankles together and used a strap around her thighs to add to the bondage and another to connect her ankles to her waist, rendering her completely immobile. He looked down at her then; she had passed from unconsciousness and into sleep. Then he covered her up and laid down next to her to sleep, and he was again tempted to pack her into his car and head for home. But he resisted temptation. She was beautiful laid out like this, covered in sweat and bare to his touch, to his pleasure and his mercy. Then he covered her with a blanket and slipped into the bed with her, watching her sleep for a moment before turning off the light to sleep, smiling contentedly as he did. *** Rachel woke to darkness. She was a bit stiff and sore, but not overly so. What was most distressing was the feeling of captivity. She was held immobile, and for a moment, she lay disoriented and panicked. Then it returned to her. She was with John, in his hotel room, and they were in a session. She was bound hand and foot from head to toe, and she could feel that he had toys in both her pussy and ass. A little wiggling revealed the extent of the bondage to her; she was locked in the harness, a bit in her mouth, and she was bound almost completely immobile upon the bed. There was no help for it. She lay still and reveled in the memories of their session together. She had lost all sense of self for a while, giving herself over completely to the role, becoming Pet as she had never tried before. And he had shown her heaven. She had cum so hard that it had knocked her out. It was amazing. Her body was still humming with the memories of it, and she felt completely relaxed in that time. Laying in the darkness naked and bound, helpless, his property. She felt completely at peace, and she knew in that moment that she loved him. She had no idea how long she laid like that, in the dark, in the quiet, unable to move. But it was a while before she felt his hands upon her, caressing her body, feeling her warmth and exploring all that her tender flesh had to offer. His hands were alive upon her, caressing her breasts and ass, her legs and arms, her sides and neck. And she was shivering with the delicious feel of it. He turned on the vibrator in her pussy and caressed her clit with his fingers as he caressed her and teased her.And then his mouth joined in, tasting her everywhere, her arms and legs, her ass and neck, and he lavished attention upon her breasts for a very long time, sucking at the nipples and biting at the flesh, squeezing and caressing until he had her moaning into the bit. Her breasts were small, and likely wouldn't get much past a B cup, if her mother was any indication. But they were so sensitive. And then he was just gone, his touch suddenly absent, leaving her feeling empty and alone, cold despite the warmth of the room. How long she lay this time, she didn't know, but it felt like forever. The steady thrumming of the vibrator had her on edge, antsy and more than a little wet as she lay moaning on the sheets. And then it started to change speeds. It would get faster and then slower, the speed moving up and down by turns as she moaned and wiggled in her restraints. Suddenly her legs were free, and she felt him slipping something up her legs, like stockings that he attached to the straps around her thighs. Her arms were released one by one and covered with long gloves that kept her hands fisted, and she was made to stand, still blindfolded, as he placed her in different restraints. She felt her weight come up off the ground, and she was held suspended in the air, spread wide and open. A strap slipped between her thighs, attaching to the belt in the front and back to prevent the vibrator and plug from falling out, and then the blindfold was removed. Rachel was suspended in the middle of the room, with straps that were affixed to a lightweight metal frame he had erected there. She was completely immobilized and at his mercy. He stood before her in a pair of black leather pants and nothing else, and with the whip he had used on her yesterday, swung idly from one hand. "The bondage body harness is one of the most useful tools in my possession. This particular harness will be more closely fitted to you at a later date, and you will wear it always. It is designed to be worn in public either under clothes or with attachments that will cover... or reveal... whatever I choose. There are a great many accessories that can be attached to the harness, and it can be used to restrict you in a great many ways, as you have already learned. The primary reason for this restraint is punishment. But I will have you on display on at least one occasion. This particular style of restraint is designed to allow access to your body in any way I see fit. Adding the sleeves and leggings allows me to immobilize your limbs and place you completely at my mercy. The bit will prevent you from screaming or calling out for assistance. And the addition of the remote control vibrator allows for both punishment and reward." At that, he takes a remote control from a nearby table and thumbs the dial around, increasing the tempo and speed of the vibrations slowly, and causing the rings that circle the shaft to move and stimulate her canal. With the touch of a button, the toy turns off completely, leaving her gasping for breath and moaning into the bit. They spent the next several hours going over different positions and uses of the harness, use of ropes and more than a dozen different toys. Rachel was starved and exhausted by the time he called the hour for the evening. She hadn't eaten since the night before, and he left her hanging in the harness as he ordered room service. He retreated to the shower as he received the food, and he joined her to wash off. They were both covered in sweat and fluids and were shivering with exhaustion.Taking advantage of her youthful agility, he grasped her behind the knees and pushed her legs up until she was practically folded in half as he ground his shaft over her wet pussy, then he adjusted his angle until he was lined up and slipped into her in one smooth motion. He only ground deep into her heat three or four times before he stopped, withdrawing and letting go of her. He took a moment to don a condom over his slick, hard shaft before repositioning her and removing the plug. Placing the head of his cock against her sex, he filled her again and started thrusting deep into her over and over in a slow, smooth cadence. He turned her onto her side and then her belly as he moved; his actions smooth and practiced as he gripped her arms and pulled her up and against his chest before laying back and placing her on top of him. One hand snaked around to squeeze and caress her breasts and the other to rub and flick her clit as his mouth sought to kiss every drop of sweat from her body. She moaned and gasped as he fucked her, reveling in the sensations of him within her, of his hands and the harness against her skin as he moved her, so easily, and changed their positions. Then she was lifting off of him, using a hand to hold his cock in place as she lowered gently to press the head of him against her tender, tight ass. She ground down slowly, pressing harder and harder against him, wanting to feel all of him within her as she had the day before. Gradually, with gentle pressure and patience, he began to slide into her. Soon she was settling down lower and lower on his length as he groaned and pushed up to meet her. Then she felt her ass settle against his lap. He was fully within her, his whole length filling her body as she rode him, leaning back against his chest and grinding up and down, feeling the stretch of his cock within her, moaning at the pleasure that he brought her. They ground against one another for another half hour, hands groping, mouths seeking each other's flesh, and soon she climaxed, and he followed soon after. Then they collapsed on the sheets, soaked in sweat and very sated. Then they slept together, still joined where they coupled until he slowly softened and slipped from her body. They cuddled together in each other's warmth and basked in the afterglow. The next day came all too soon and he taught her more about the harness, showcased several toys and introduced her to a few websites that specialized in toys for different fetishes. And before they knew it, it was time for her to return home, and for him to pack and go back to wherever it was he lived. They would resume their online relationship, of course, but it would be months before he could arrange time for them to be together again. "Before I take you home, Candygirl, I have some more presents for you. One is this box with the harness and everything else in it. For now I'll keep it with me, but you'll see it again sooner than you think. I have a friend coming up to stay here a while, and she'll introduce herself to you soon enough. She's a teacher for you, of sorts. And she'll have this box as well as another toy or two. And she'll have a house for us to meet at next time we meet. It may be four to six months before I can make it back. But I do plan to return." She clutched at him and pressed herself to his chest. "John... I... I think I..." He stopped her there with a finger to her lips. "Don't say that Candygirl. Those are dangerous words. Give it a while, and if you still feel that way in two years, you can say it. But talk with Amy, and learn what you can from her. She knows enough about me to keep you sated for a while, and she can teach you plenty about a lot of things." He knew what she had been about to confess. The words 'I love you' got bandied about a lot in his world, people thinking lust was the same as love was common. But he couldn't let the idea take root. But Amy would set her straight. Amy had actually said the words to him out loud. Claire and Amanda hadn't bothered. They had understood better than most. He was after sex. And preferably sex with young women, barely more than girls. He knew the age of consent was sixteen in Massachusetts, but there were loopholes, ones parents worried for their daughters could exploit. And he in role-playing sessions with her since she was fifteen was likely one of them. He would take no chances. No, it was better to play it safe for right now, and take every chance he got to be with her. He unlocked her from the harness and tucked it away in the box. They took a last shower together and he made love to her one last time in the shower. When they had dressed, he packed his things, slipped her back into the suitcase, and they left the hotel. Once they were safely out of sight, he dropped her off at a bus terminal and she kissed him goodbye before he drove away. He headed for the little house he had purchased a few days ago... under the same alias as the car and the rooms in the hotels, and put his things up. He had been receiving shipments here for a week now, from many of the same websites he had showed Rachel, and he was finally finished setting them up. He opened his cell, called Amy, and arranged for her to visit him when he returned to Phoenix. Then he crashed out on the huge bed for a good night's sleep, thinking sweet dreams of his little Candygirl.	null	Chapter 2: Changed Plans	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/61/sweet2.txt
66,931	Karen Kay	Sweet Smell Of Adultery	You've had a long day at work and you're driving down the boulevard. You stop at a red light and something has caught your eye in a parking lot across the intersection. The light turns green, and you start to pull away. While you pass the hotel, you notice the green car has a stuffed animal in the back window, just like your wife's car. Your curiosity has gotten the best of you, so you immediately turn the car around at the next corner. You're pulling into the parking lot and driving slowly toward that green car. Your heart is beating as you see the roof and pull forward, hoping it was a mistake. You pull up a little further when you notice the license plate number. It's your wife's car! You put your foot on the brake and feel your heart pounding against your shirt. You begin to panic as you look at the hotel building and look up at the windows, wondering if your wife is in one of those rooms. You put the car in park and get out, walking around your wife's car. You feel the hood, and it's still warm from the engine. You stand in the parking lot, looking back at the hotel again. Your heart is pounding as you look over the windows again. You suddenly spot a restaurant near the lobby of the hotel, and you feel relieved. You suddenly find yourself with a smile on your face, with a possible explanation. You figure your wife stopped off from work with one of the girls for a drink. It's Friday, and she deserves a little time out after putting in a long week at work. You walk toward your car and sit in the front seat. You put the car in gear and ponder the decision if you should join your wife for a friendly little drink. You decide to drive home. You reach your driveway and pull in. You take off your tie and unbutton your shirt, leaving your chest visible down to your nipples. You check out the wine and select something appropriate for when your wife comes home. You have the wine glasses on the table and look at the clock. It's been an hour since you saw her car in that parking lot. You begin to worry as you pace the floor. The sound of the garage door being raised can be heard from the kitchen. Your wife is home, and you're relieved! The door opens, and you're waiting for her with a smile and a hug. She smiles back at you and puts her purse down on the table, giving you another hug and a kiss. It was cool today, but she feels hot, and her makeup appears as if it had been recently wiped off, except for her lipstick. Her lips feel warm and passionate as she pushes her body into yours. You can feel her breasts pressing into your chest as you kiss her. You lower your hands and feel her ass squirming around like a belly dancer. She pushes her tongue into your mouth, and you squeeze her ass. You start to point out the bottle of wine, but she is pulling you into the bedroom. She turns around to allow you to unzip her dress. She wiggles her hips as you unbuckle your pants and let them fall. Your wife is facing you as she unhooks her bra, allowing it to hit the floor. Her panties remain in place, but her large breasts are swaying freely in front of your eyes as you roll down your underwear. She hugs you again and lays a big open-mouth kiss on your lips just before she pushes you back onto the bed. She quickly gets on her knees and begins to suck your hard cock as you lay your head back on the bed. Your cock is rock solid hard as she climbs up onto the bed and straddles your chest. Her panties are still on, and you notice that the crotch is wet. She must be horny after having drinks with her friends. She leans down and plants another open-mouth kiss on your lips as you feel her breasts. You gently squeeze them together as she kisses your face. Your eyes notice something around her breasts that alarm you. You're trying to examine them closer, but your wife is kissing your face and moving her hands on your chest, so you forget about them for a moment. She is wiggling her ass and slips her hand down over your hand, placing it onto her ass. She wants you to pull down her tiny panties, so you do as she raises each leg until they are free. You want to examine them, but she pulls them out of your hand and tosses them to the floor. She is kissing your lips, and you're holding onto her ass while she squirms above your chest. Your cock is hard, and you feel her body begin to back up until your cock hits the crack of her ass. She raises her ass and reaches around to take hold of your cock. You want so badly to examine her pussy and smell to see if she recently had sex, but it's too late as you feel her warm pussy begin to engulf your cock. It feels hot and wet, and you wait until she pushes herself all the way down your cock and you feel her pussy begin to clamp around your cock. You don't know what it is, but your wife seems more talented recently with the way she uses her pussy on you. You recently discovered the changes in your wife's behavior in bed. She stops kissing you while squeezing her pussy and stares into your eyes. Her face tells it all! Her eyes are letting you know how much she loves you. She is wondering if you can tell the difference in her performance. You're groaning and moving your body with hers as she rides your cock. She leans forward, pushing one of her large breasts toward your face. She wants you to suck them. She wants you to bite them and make them red! You take one in your mouth and start to nibble. She groans out loud, then pushes the other breast into your face, and you repeat the biting. Your mouth is all over her melons as you lick and bite her flesh. She kisses you again before she begins her wild dance and soon has an orgasm above your cock. How long has it been? A few weeks or perhaps months since your wife has become a complete animal in bed. She is moving her pussy again with much talent, trying to make you cum. You stare down at her breasts and see an array of red blotches. You start to wonder and say to yourself, "Did I do all that in such a short time?" You don't really care at the moment as your wife works her talents on your cock, and you're soon sending your load of hot seed deep inside her womb. You smile to yourself and wonder if this will be the moment you become a Daddy! You've been talking about having children for months now, and your wife stopped taking the pill a year ago, but nothing has happened yet. Maybe you have a problem and should see a doctor! Maybe you should have him run a few tests and see if you're capable of fathering a child! Your wife gives you a final kiss before lifting off your legs. Your cum drips out onto the bed. How nice! You watch her little ass wiggle as she walks into the shower. You're lying back on the pillow, thinking how wonderful your life is with such a beautiful wife. You suddenly think back when you saw her car in that parking lot at the hotel. You get off the bed and locate her purse, beginning to hunt. You don't know what you're looking for other than a sign or something that shouldn't be inside her purse. You keep searching until you find a little packet. It's your wife's birth control pills. She told you she stopped taking them a year ago. It must be an old packet! You laugh to yourself until you read the label and see that it needs to be filled next week. It was filled last month, and you begin to wonder again. You keep searching for other clues until you find a business card. It's a business card from where she works, only it's got the name of a man on it you've never met before. You turn the card over and see a little sketch on the back of a cock. It's filled in with black ink. You can hear the water running in the shower and quickly run into the den and turn on the computer. You type in your wife's company and bring up their website. You're looking for the page where the staff members are listed and find the name on the card. You're in luck! You click on the link to his homepage and see his bio, starting to pan down until you come to a picture. It's a black man and his wife. His skin is jet black, and he is holding his arm around her waist and smiling. Your heart is beating faster as you stare at his picture and read his company information. He works with your wife in the same department! His name is Sam, and you make a mental memory of his name and shut down the computer. You run back into the bedroom and replace the card in the purse and join your wife in the shower. She cups your balls as you close the shower door and lays a big wet kiss on your lips. She gets down on her knees and gives you the most wonderful blowjob of your seven years of marriage. The water is hitting your face as your wife stands back up and circles her arms around your waist, kissing your chest.She stares up at you and tells you she loves you, and you both kiss as the water is hitting your face. You finally finish your shower and find your wife standing in front of the mirror, combing her long, flowing hair. That's when you spot her panties sitting on the floor, and you quickly pick them up and pretend you're taking them to the laundry. You're walking down the hallway, examining them as you move. You see dried cum stains at the crotch and put the thin material next to your nose and sniff. You smell the scent of masculinity. It's a mixture of male cum and your wife's cum, dried on the material. You stand in the laundry room, wondering if it's the scent of a black man you smell on her panties. You decide to hide the panties for further examination. You return to the bedroom, and your wife is waiting with that wine bottle in hand. She is laying naked in bed with the glasses in one hand and the bottle in the other. You forget about the fact that she may be cheating on you and give her a kiss. Her body looks succulent in the dim bedroom light. You've just had the most wonderful sex with your wife in months. Why spoil it now!	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/70/sweetsmell.txt
67,136	Bossman (address withheld)	Growing Up	You could say I was never going to be the pick of the bunch among the other girls in my school. My ginger hair and freckles put off many of the boys from dating me, and my breasts never grew much either, not like the other girls. Mine were more like little tennis balls with big pink nipples stuck on top. It used to be more embarrassing in the showers after gym practice. They would make fun of my ginger pubic hair too, which did little to hide my red petal-like labia lips and my clitoris, which protruded through its hood like a cigarette nub. I don't know why my parts were different from all the other girls; the only thing I could put it down to was Grandpa's continuously playing with me for three years when I was younger. One day out of the blue, two of the most popular girls in my class asked me if I wanted to go to the movies with a crowd of them. I was gratified and eagerly agreed. They set a time to meet for the following Saturday afternoon. That weekend, Mom made me put on a pleated checkered skirt (which looked more like a kitchen tablecloth) and a silk blouse. I looked a right geek, frumpy and old-fashioned in it, but what could I do? I sat on the movie theater steps for ages waiting for my newfound friends to arrive. There were other older pupils from my school sitting about too, and when it got dark, a couple of girls came over and asked me what I was doing. I told them I had been stood up by my so-called friends. There were six or seven of these older kids, mostly girls with a couple of boys from school. They said I could sit with them if I still wanted to see the movie, so I went in with them. In the foyer, I got some popcorn and a milkshake. Bob, a senior, smiled at me as I passed him. I smiled back and said hi. He asked if I wanted to sit with him while we watched the movie, and I said yes. We sat at the back of the theater, while the others sat a few rows in front of us. We talked for a little while before the movie started. He was really interesting, and I enjoyed getting to know him. I felt really grown up and kind of part of their gang. As the lights went down and the movie started, Bob put his arm around me. We settled down to watch the movie with me leaning slightly against Bob. He never moved his arm from around my shoulder. I must admit it distracted me from the movie. I kept sneaking little glances up at him. The film hadn't been on more than ten minutes or so when I almost jumped out of my seat; I felt Bob's hand drop down to my breast, and he started stroking my breasts through my blouse. Then he leaned in and kissed me. Dear God, did he kiss me! His tongue traced my lips and then teased the corners. When my lips opened to a short gasp, he took advantage and slid his tongue inside my mouth. While he was kissing me, I felt him undo the top two buttons of my blouse, his hand snaking in under my blouse and beginning to fondle my breasts over my bra. When I showed no sign of resistance, he took the hint right away. Bob broke off the kiss and opened some more buttons. Soon he had the blouse open and was feeling my breasts through the bra. I giggled and told him it felt nice. Encouraged, he reclined back, pulling me over to him, and instantly was kissing even more passionately. His hand was groping around my back and sides. He found the clasp and undid my bra, exposing my breasts. His breathing became faster. He fondled my little naked boobs and tweaked my nipples while frenching my mouth. I was so turned on that I put my hand down to his crotch and massaged his cock. I had no trouble finding it; it was big and hard. I stroked it gently through his jeans and kept playing with it while he kissed my neck and worked his way down to my breasts, where he licked circles around the nipples. God, I was getting hot! Then, suddenly, he pounced on a nipple with his lips and sucked it. The sensation seemed to shoot right through me to my pussy. I squeezed his cock, and he moaned. I had become oblivious to the other people in the theater. I wanted his cock in my hand. I found his zipper and pulled. It wouldn't budge at first; I had to use the other hand to hold it. I pulled his fly open and reached into his boxers. As my fingers circled his shaft, he sucked in his breath and moaned, and nibbled my nipple urgently. I brought his cock out and stroked it gently in my hand; it was all slick and sticky and hot. "Oh, God, Susan," he moaned. Moving his mouth to my other nipple, he took his hand and started rubbing my mound through my skirt, but after a few rubs, he pulled my skirt up and was rubbing my panties. I made a ring out of my thumb and forefinger, circled the head of his cock, and rubbed the ring up and down just under the head. "Ohh, yesss!" he hissed, his hand slipping in through the leg of my panties and starting to rub my clitoris. It felt so wonderful, I forgot about his cock and just held it and squeezed. He kept working my clitoris very gently. "Oh, Bob, oh, OH! Noooooooo! I'm coming!!" I had to bite on my lip to stop crying out loudly. I came all in a rush, a really good one. My thighs clamped on his hand. He kept flicking my clitoris gently; I kept coming. It lasted a long time, but finally, it was over, and I stopped shaking, but my insides were still twitching. Bob kissed me gently, smiled, and pulled my skirt back down. "Whew," he said. "A good one, huh?" I still was holding his cock, stiff as ever, so I started jacking it, slowly. "Your turn," I said. He lay back and moaned. I sat up a little to get a good look at his cock. It was nice! At least six inches long. I started jacking him off faster, all the while he was letting out short gasps. Then suddenly, Bob's body tensed. I felt his cock start to pulse; I clamped my fingers around his shaft and stroked up and down faster. He moaned and lifted his butt off the seat as his cock started spurting. He shot and shot, at least six times. Several blasts of his sperm landed all over my blouse sleeve and my wrist. I slowed down my movements and then stopped them entirely as the last of his cum oozed out the tip of his penis. "Oh, god, Susan... oh, that was wonderful!" I let go of his shrinking cock, wiping his sperm off my hand on the empty seat next to me. He zipped up his fly, and I fastened my bra and buttoned up my blouse. He stroked my face and hair with his hand and looked into my eyes. I put my arms around his neck and gave him a quick kiss. "It's getting late," he whispered. "I wouldn't want your parents to get angry." "Can I see you again?" I asked him. "Yes, maybe," he said, then he got up and left the theater. I got up and went to the toilets to clean myself up. I got some tissue and tried to wipe off the sperm from my blouse when I heard people come through the door. I quickly jumped into a cubicle. It was the gang of girls that Bob had been with. I listened to what they were talking about. You can't imagine my horror when I realized it was me they were talking about, saying things like I was Bob's slut and calling me a whore. I waited for them to leave, then made my way home, totally humiliated. I replayed the incident over and over in my head that night. I realized that Bob had taken advantage of me and saw me as a sexual plaything and nothing else. On Monday at school, no one was trying to hide their sniggers. It was obvious they all knew what had happened. I remained silent, in despair. All I could see were girls and boys smirking at me and giggling at me. This went on for weeks. Several boys started to badger me for dates and the like, but I had no interest in any of that. I could not face the prospect of someone trying to take advantage of me again and telling everyone at school. Thank God the summer break started then, so I could get away from all the pressures for a couple of months. Weeks later, it was Mom and Dad's wedding anniversary. They went out for a meal with friends. About 11 pm, they came home a bit worse for drink. I heard a lot of noise and talking going on, so I got out of bed and went downstairs to see what was up. Mom was in the kitchen, while Dad was in the lounge on the sofa, laughing and talking to his best friend Joe, whom he had known since their college days. I had always considered Joe like an uncle, but we aren't related. He was divorced and living in a bedsit on the other side of town. Mom came in and said, "Sorry we woke you, dear," and gave me a kiss. I went to give Dad a kiss goodnight when Joe kind of mumbled, "Where's mine then, little Sue?"I really hated it when he called me that, but I went to him and gave him a hug and a kiss on his cheek, and then went back to bed. At breakfast the next morning, Dad gave a little speech about how things at work weren't going well and said Joe was going to move in with us for a while, not only to help him get out of his dingy bedsit, but his rent would go a long way in helping us out financially. My bedroom is at the back of the house. Next to mine is the spare bedroom, where Uncle Joe would sleep. One morning I had my shower, listening to the radio back in my bedroom. I finished drying myself off, dressed, and started about my normal duties helping Mum tidy up around the house - the lounge, kitchen, and bedrooms. It was my turn to do the upstairs. I did Mum's room, my own, and the bathroom. Next was Uncle Joe's room. Upon opening the door, I got the shock of my life. Uncle Joe was still in bed, not asleep. I heard a quick rustling of a magazine as I opened the door. I had a rush of adrenaline, as I realized he had been masturbating! I got very, very embarrassed, blushing blood red in the process. I stood there for a split second, motionless. I couldn't help but look at his big stiff cock. He saw me looking at him and smiled, as if he wanted me to come in. I just turned around and left, shutting the door behind me. After that, anytime I looked at Uncle Joe, he would smile and wink at me, and my face would go as red as a beetroot every time. I went out to ride my bike. I was out a while, but got bored because I had no one to play with, and I wanted to see Mum before she left for work, so I returned home. I was dying for a pee, so I let myself in the back door and went upstairs to the loo. I left the bathroom and went into the hall at the top of the stairs. The house was completely quiet, and as I started down the stairs, I heard this muffled moan and grunting that seemed to come from Mum and Dad's room at the end of the hall. I remember thinking to myself, "That's strange. I wonder what's going on down there?" I went to investigate and noticed that the door to the bedroom was almost closed but not shut tight. I've heard Mum and Dad making love before, but this sounded more like she was being throttled. I reached for the doorknob and pushed the door open a bit. I couldn't see the bed through the partially open door because it was behind the door. I could see the bed in the reflection of the large mirror over the dresser that was against the wall on the right side of the bed. What I saw caused me to freeze dead in my tracks. Mum was completely naked, and some man was fucking her from behind. But it wasn't just some man, it was Uncle Joe! With his hard cock stuffed up her. And Dad was kneeling in front of her. I could only assume she was sucking him, while Uncle Joe did her from behind. Mum was moaning and kind of choking at the same time. I was stunned by what I was witnessing, and my eyes were frozen on that mirror, and I was mesmerized by the sight of my Mum getting screwed by Uncle Joe while she sucked on Dad's cock. My head was full of a jumble of confusing thoughts. I couldn't believe Mum and Dad were letting this happen. I stood there transfixed, watching and listening to them grunting and moaning. Dad's face went all red, his eyes shut tight. He let out a big sigh, and I saw an arc of sperm fly up, landing in Mum's hair and back. Mum turned her head around, hissing at Joe, "Hurry up and shoot, Joe, before Susan comes home!" I watched his butt, looking at the way the muscles tightened and relaxed as he repeatedly thrust and withdrew, thrust and withdrew. Uncle Joe was doing it faster now. His buttocks were clenching and relaxing at a much faster rate. I could hear Mum sort of moaning and groaning in time with Uncle Joe's thrusts. It sounded like she was really enjoying what she was getting. Uncle Joe had hold of Mum's hips, pulling and pushing. Suddenly Mum began to kind of moan and cry, really loud. I could only guess that she was having an orgasm. Then Uncle Joe shoved forward hard and held tight up against her. His buttocks were clenched tightly, and I could hear him gasping and groaning, shooting his stuff up inside of her. I made a quick exit, quietly downstairs. I couldn't believe how exciting it was to watch Mum, Dad, and Uncle Joe doing it like that. It even made my panties wet, well saturated really, with juices that had leaked from my pussy. I went back through the house and out the back door and around to the front and rang the doorbell. It took an age for someone to answer. It was Uncle Joe, looking all hot and flushed. Mum was in the shower, I bet she needed one. I waited for her to finish and went and chatted to her while she got ready for work. When Mum left for work, I jumped in the shower. I put my pants and long nightdress on. Dad and Uncle Joe were in the kitchen making dinner. I was about halfway down the stairs. "You fucked her good and proper, Joe. I'm surprised the whole street never heard her squeals," I overheard Dad saying to Uncle Joe. I just didn't understand why, after fifteen years of being married, Dad was letting Uncle Joe do it to my Mum. Anyway, I went and sat at the table waiting for dinner. After that day, I regularly heard Mum, Dad, and Uncle Joe making out together.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/62/growingup.txt
67,511	dale10	Pledge Humiliation Party Games - 12	You know, it's like being drunk and doing crazy wild things that later shame you. The stuff you do when you are pledging a fraternity. When you think about it afterward, it can really screw up your mind. Unless, of course, you find excuses like, "I was really drunk." That's why there is so much drinking that goes on during pledging parties. The drinking is an excuse for the guys to do things they would never admit to sober. So here was macho redneck pledge Chuck sucking on the dick of a black security guard in front of twenty or thirty guys and gals from his school. How could he ever recover from this? How could he ever walk around campus with his head up? Well, there was a kind of badge of honor to the whole thing. If he survived, if he endured, perhaps they would accept him and close the doors on the parts of their minds that said, "We turned this dude into a queer. We made him suck black dick." Then again, maybe they would always laugh at him behind his back! Maybe there was an inner circle that loved to humiliate and degrade those not a part of their elite group. Maybe Chuck would never make it. Maybe he would be destroyed! I know I was. I had to drop out of school, and I still seek therapy with a psychiatrist who is a member of the same fraternity that I pledged. I see him because the frat pays for it. I was and am totally fucked up by my pledging experience. How would you do? There was Chuck, a real tough guy, crying like a baby while he suckled the head of what he would call "Nigger dick." Oh yes, they made him suck black dick because they knew it would destroy him even more. First, Arthur stood at the side of the table, feeding him prick like giving a milk bottle to a baby. Then Arthur climbed up onto the table and shoved his fat fuck slab down the pledge's throat. Chuck's whole body kind of bounced on the table. He forgot about the humiliations he had endured only a few minutes ago. He forgot about the fake dick up his ass. How he had been ass-fucked by a strap-on dildo. That had been the worst thing to ever happen to him, but that was now forgotten because he had the huge black fuckhose of a security guard fucking in and out of his throat. He actually had cock in his mouth! I knew what it felt like. I had been sucking the frat brothers for a few days already. I was totally demeaned. I was a nervous wreck and was running to the toilet to puke like clockwork, perhaps to try to expel all the cum I had been forced to swallow. As part of my pledging, Billy Chote was now bringing me water glasses half-filled with cum he collected from guys around campus. He made me drink the fuckslop. I had to thank him and tell him how good it tasted and beg for more. I had stopped eating and was losing weight. My studies had gone to shit. But at least I wasn't in Chuck's position. There in front of all those guys and gals, he was sucking black dick and licking the fucksack of a negro security guard. He gagged and drooled as the huge black fuckhose was withdrawn from his mouth, and he was ordered to lick the swinging hairy black sack over his face. The sorority girls giggled and screamed, and the frat boys called him faggot and cocksucker. He licked the swinging sack, crying all the while. It was too fucking demeaning for him to stand. But the worst was still to come. Suddenly, Arthur stepped off the table and turned around. He spread his large muscular ass cheeks. "Suck my ass," he said in a low guttural voice. Chuck tried to rise from the table. He had had enough. He couldn't take any more. Billy Chote was there in an instant, pushing him back down. The sorority chick fucking the dildo into his ass pushed it in harder, and he grunted. Billy leaned in. "Don't give up now, Chuck, it's almost over. You are doing so well. Don't cave now, bro. We want you in the fraternity. Think of all the good times ahead. You can do this, man!" Chuck looked up at the hairy black ass crack over his face. "I can't, I can't lick, nig, .a black dude's ass. I can't lick any dude's ass. Please. I'll do something else. I'll suck his cock again." Did you hear that? They got him begging to suck cock again. That was how they worked. By heaping some larger degradation on you, they got you to accept the lesser ones, which were horrible enough. They had honed this humiliation shit to a fine art. Chuck was sweating, and his chest was heaving like he was having a fucking heart attack. Arthur moved back so his ass was closer to the kid's face. Chuck could smell black ass. "Oh dear God, I can't. I can't," he sobbed. The ass was lowered onto his face. Hairy black male ass. Billy Chote held Chuck's head so the ass crack would cover his nose and mouth. Billy took an almost scientific interest in such humiliation. "Oh yeah, yeah, that's good, Chuck. Real good. Now stick out your tongue and lick." I had already had the ass-licking pleasure, as I previously shared with you. I knew of the foul taste and smell. How it stayed with you for the whole day after you did it. It's not like licking some hot chick's ass during sex. No, my friend. You are getting no sexual pleasure at all and are having to lick the hairy, sweaty ass of some male jock! Just telling my therapist about it brings back the taste and smell. In fact, after my last hypnosis session, I smelled and tasted ass all day, just like back during my pledging. My therapist just smiles and says it is memory recall. Arthur got up on the table and squatted, so he could actually sit his asshole down on Chuck's face. Just like he was taking a shit. Chuck began to thrash on the table, and the sorority chick fucking his ass with the strap-on almost got kicked in the face. The kids in the room were cheering and yelling and urging Arthur on. Arthur, who was the favorite security guard on campus and loved all the attention, started to bounce on Chuck's face. Arthur's dick was leaking pre-fuck all over the place. "Come on, white boy; stick your tongue up my dirty asshole." "Do it, Chuck. Get your tongue way up his asshole, then he will stop," Billy coached. Chuck must have gotten with the program, because Arthur started to wiggle and make sounds like a contented baby. He was getting ass-tongued by a white college freshman. The sorority bitches were in there too, pushing the ass further onto Chuck's face. Finally, Arthur couldn't hold back, so he jumped off the table, turned around, and pumping his fat, swollen black cuntstuffer, shot his load all over Chuck's face and chest. It was amazing. This black dude shot cum like he was pissing. Shit, for all I know, it was his fucksnot I had been drinking out of the glasses Billy had been giving me. So now you are thinking, "Okay, now I've heard it all, nothing can top that. Or bottom out worse than that. No person can be expected to undergo worse humiliation than that." Wrong, brother. These sadistic frat boys and sorority girls were just getting started. It would take more than that to give me the nervous breakdown that ruined my life. The damned thing is that I have been told that in all the photos I have, and I have hundreds to prove all of this is true, that all the shit we did looks consensual, so how can I claim abuse. After all, I am eighteen. The police looked at me like I was some kind of fucking freak, like I was a faggot myself, when I showed them photos of me being made to suck dick and ass. One of them even sneered and said to me, "Why the fuck would you do such a disgusting thing if you didn't want to?" My therapist says I am naturally submissive and secretly crave that kind of treatment. I just can't believe it. I mean, I never enjoyed or wanted any of it. He says that's why my ass itches and hurts after our sessions, because I subconsciously want to be fucked by a man. Is this true? Is this why I can't seem to keep any girlfriends? Every night I still dream about fraternity brothers doing unspeakably horrible things to me. Sick, perverted things. Do you still want to hear more of what they did to us? Let me know. Perhaps it can somehow help some of you out there. I know that I am totally fucked up for life. To be continued?	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/41/pledgegames12.txt
67,543	dale10	Pledge Humiliation Party Games - 4	You know, I swore I would keep the telling of this atrocity emotionless, like a report, so that the world would know what goes on at college campuses all over the country, but I am finding this very difficult to do. My doctor says it's not good for me to relive these experiences, but I feel compelled to. After the party where Tyler and I were forced to suck ass, word got around pretty quickly, and two days later I was summoned to Billy Chote's room. I was bare-assed, of course. We were always bare-assed in the frat house, except when we were made to wear panties and bras or bow ties, or posing pouches, or some other nasty stuff. What surprised me was that Billy Chote was bare-assed naked as well. Usually, he walked around the frat house in a pair of briefs; he loved to show off his gigantic basket. Everybody knew what a cunt fucker he was. If he didn't fuck some pussy every other day, he just about went nuts. He became real nasty and picked fights. Everybody knew to stay away from Billy Chote if he wasn't getting any regular ass. Most of the time, he got all he needed. The cunts on campus loved him and his huge prick. They bragged after he'd date and fuck them. To Billy Chote, taking a girl on a date meant fucking her brains out. That was the only purpose of dates. He had no time for romantic shit. If he took a bitch to the movies, she pretty much had to masturbate him all during the flick, or even worse, sometimes suck him. She didn't get to see much of the movie that way, but he did. He was definitely the Big Man on Campus. And here he was, seated on his bed, buck-ass naked. There was nothing homo about Billy Chote. Sadistic, hell yes, but faggoty, no. He was just a fucking nasty motherfucker. He sat there on the bed, naked and spread his legs. I was awestruck. This was so queer. "Close the door, pledge," he said, with a friendly smile on his face, one hand rubbing his large, well-formed pecs. I closed the door and stood at Pledge Attention, arms up, hands clasped behind my neck, ass out as far as I could push it, tits out as far as I could push them, legs spread and slightly bent to emphasize my pushed-out ass. I pushed out the muscles of my tits and ass until it hurt. With Billy Chote, you never gave anything less than one hundred percent. "I'm worried about you, especially after the party the other night," he was referring to the party where I had to suck cock and lick ass. "Yes, I am worried for your sake, Pledge. You know the charity auctions are coming up, where the pledges are auctioned off as slaves to raise money for charities." "Yes, Sir." "Well, we can't have you embarrass our Fraternity, now can we?" "No, Sir, I would never do that, Sir." "Well, suppose someone buys you as a slave for a week, and wants his or her ass licked. I watched your little demonstration the other night, and I have to say, you are a lousy ass licker." "I am sorry, Sir, I have not had any experience licking asses." "Well, neither has Tyler, and he was licking ass much better than you. He had his tongue way up Marty's shitter, and he was tongue-fucking the hell out of that rectum. Are you saying Tyler has had a lot of experience sucking ass? Are you saying that your fellow pledge Tyler is a faggot ass-sucker?" While he spoke to me, he spread his naked legs wider, and I couldn't help but see his fat cock and huge ball sack and below it, his pink/brown asshole. I started to get scared. "No, Sir, maybe he's just got a natural talent for it, Sir. I admit, Sir, I am not very good at it." "Do you think you might be better at licking and sucking a girl's ass than a guy's?" "Oh yes, Sir, I am sure of it, Sir. I'd do much better with a girl, Sir." He started to finger his fat dick. It was obscene. "But suppose a guy buys you at the auction, and not a girl? I think we should help you perfect your ass-licking and sucking skills, don't you?" I started to shake like a leaf. "I'll, I'll be fine, Sir." "I insist you let me help you, for the sake of the Fraternity. Crawl up here on my bed and get your face down between my legs." The whole room smelled of cock. Not that Billy was dirty in any way, fuck no, he showered three times a day. He just was so manly that his whole room smelled of dick all the time. I knelt there like an idiot on my hands and knees, my head low, looking right at Billy Chote's cock and balls and asshole. He lifted his hairy, muscular legs to open his hole up more. "Do you see my asshole, Pledge?" "Yes, Sir." "Describe it to me." "Oh Jeez, well, it's round and wrinkled and kind of a pinkish-brown. And there is some hair around it," I ran out of things to say. This was so fucking queer. "Does it look tasty?" I gulped. "Not really, Sir." He frowned. Be careful when Billy Chote frowns. "Are you saying, you worthless asswipe, that my asshole is not tasty? The chicks seem to think it's delicious. They can't get enough of it. And you mean to tell me that you think it's not tasty?" "I'm sure it is, sir, for a girl." "Then tell me, for Christ's sake. Tell me what a tasty asshole I have." "You have a very tasty asshole, Sir!" "Louder, Pledge, tell the whole school that Billy Chote has a tasty asshole." "BILLY CHOTE HAS A VERY TASTY ASSHOLE!" I screamed. "Open the door, go out into the hall and yell it to the whole frat house." I opened the door and went out into the hall naked. "BILLY CHOTE HAS A VERY VERY TASTY ASSHOLE!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. Guys stuck their heads out of their rooms, laughing. "Get your ass back onto this bed, and leave the door open." Oh God, no, he wouldn't do this, would he? I left the door open and crawled back between his legs, which he held in the air so his hole was clearly open. "You can't make claims you can't prove, can you, Pledge? You wouldn't make a claim you couldn't prove?" "NO, Sir." "Well, how do you know my asshole is tasty if you have never tasted it?" "I take the girls' word for it, Sir." "Well, that's very noble of you, but we can't do that. We can't trust the sexed-up words of some cock-hungry, horny, spread-lipped cunts. We need proof. So go ahead, Pledge. Have a taste." I almost lost it. I felt my stomach bottom out. "Please, Sir, do I have to?" "Yes, you have to. I want to feel your tongue swiping my ass clean, and I want to feel it in five seconds." What could I do? I went to work. It was the worst moment of my life up until then, of course, it got much worse later on. "That's it, get that tongue out. Now swipe it up and down my ass crack and over the asshole. Like you were toilet paper and you were wiping my ass after a shit." I licked up and down the ass crack, avoiding the actual puckered asshole as much as possible. "Come on, Billy, I want you to taste that shit-hole. Lick your tongue all around the rim of my shit-hole. Lick right around the rim. Get your tongue in all the wrinkles. Lick the ass lips. Good, good job, Billy, you are learning. You want to do a good job or we will have to repeat this every night until the slave auction. Now pull back just a bit. You said there were hairs around the asshole. I want you to suck on the ass hairs, get them nice and clean." There I was, an eighteen-year-old freshman, cleaning the hairs around Billy Chote's asshole. I could tell from the laughter behind me that there were lots of dudes in the doorway watching. "You know, Billy, there is potential here. I think you could become the official pledge ass-licker of the fraternity. Wouldn't that be an honor? Then you would get to lick the assholes of all the Fraternity brothers and all the alum. Now kiss my asshole. I want you to make out with it, just like it was a girl's lips you were kissing." He lowered his legs onto my shoulders and let me smooch his asshole for ten minutes, while he chatted with the guys in the door about some high school girl he was fucking. "Okay, now you've got my shit-hole nice and spitty and wet. Now stick your tongue way up my hole, as far as you can, go turd diving. Get that useless pledge tongue way up inside my shit-hole!" Yes, it was worse when he called it a shit-hole. That reminded me of where I really was. I had to fuck my tongue into his ass, suck on his ass-lips, slobber all over the hole, stick my nose up it, and more for over an hour. At last, he pronounced me an adequate pledge ass-sucker. But then he said to the guys in the door: "But with the Charity Auction coming up, I don't want you to take my word for it, boys. You had better try ass-licker Pledge yourselves." To be continued...This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author does not condone the described behavior in real life.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/41/pledgegames4.txt
67,801	Cowboy ([email protected])	Primeval Business Man	Yesterday morning, I had a phone call from Martin, my bi friend. He asked how my wife was after the fucking she had from the lorry drivers at the lorry park three weeks ago. It was the best fuck she had ever had, and I told Martin she is still sore. We both had a laugh. Martin works for a big hotel about eight miles from where we live. He told me about a business man looking for sex with a specific type of woman - pretty, small physique, mature, and submissive. As the man was only staying two nights, Martin said my wife was the only one he knew who was about right for him, and he was willing to pay well for the fuck she would take from him. I told Martin she won't have sex for money, as she thinks herself too upstanding and proper to sell herself. Martin said what if we don't tell her, and you and I keep the money - it's going to be a big payday for us. I told my wife that Martin would like to have a drink with us at his place of work. She was not sure about it, but I would not let it drop until she said "no sex, right?" I said okay. When we got to the bar in the hotel, Martin pulled me aside and told me I had a pleasant surprise coming to me with this business man he had lined up for my wife. The three of us went to a corner table with our drinks. Martin started to charm her with small talk, and in no time at all, he was kissing her, putting his hands on her gently. She really trusted him. He asked my wife if they could go up to one of the rooms to talk, as he had keys to all the rooms and didn't want anyone to overhear them, since he worked there. She said no, but he took hold of her hand and walked her to the lift. As soon as the lift closed, he was all over her. He stopped the lift between floors, lifted up her dress, ripped her tights off, and fucked her straight away. It was over as quick as it started, and there was no time to clean her up. She wiped her cunt with her ripped tights. We went to the top floor to a room at the end. Martin opened the door, and I was the first one in, with my wife behind me. Martin closed the door, and my wife saw another man in the room. She shouted out "no," but Martin told her to be quiet and introduced us to James. He was about fifty years old, heavily built, and his back and chest were covered in body hair. He had a heaviness about him and looked strong as well. Before my wife said anything else, he pulled her to him and kissed her on the lips, then forcefully put his tongue down her throat. They stayed like that for about five minutes, and he held my wife so tight she could not move. He told me and Martin to strip her while he held her, and we soon had her clothes off. He put her on the corner of the bed with her legs hanging over the edge. He told me to hold her legs and Martin to hold her arms. He stood up, undid his trousers belt, and pushed them and his pants down. There stood the fattest cock I had ever seen - about six inches long but a circumference of eight inches, and the helmet was a beautiful ten inches around the flange. He looked like a primeval primate, with naked body hair all over him. He told my wife to lick his cock to make it wet, to make it easy to go in. She started to cry, and Martin told him I would suck him. He placed it at my mouth, and I could not get it in, so I licked it all over. He then bent down, licked, and sucked on my wife's cunt. We were still holding her down when he rubbed his cock over her cunt, then told us so masterfully to hold her tight as he tried to heave and push it in. I could not see how she could take it in, as it was so fat. He worked on her cunt with his cock, pushing and heaving. He knew what he was doing, and the more she cried, the more he was enjoying it - he had done it before. He got the helmet of his cock in, and she made a small throat sound and passed out. He made a joke about her passing out. He told us to let her go now, as he could hold her. He got his cock right in her before she came around, and as he pushed in to her, he held her hips with his hands. She tried to get him off her, but no use - he held her, and was too strong. Me and Martin wanked ourselves, looking at her. Her whole body moved like she was having a fit as he fucked her, and we shot our cum over her face. He told me to get behind him and lick his balls. He fucked her for over an hour, and I was licking the biggest set of balls I had seen - they were like a bull's balls. He was a bull. As I licked, they were getting hard, and I felt him shoot his cum in her. Not one drop of leakage came out. As her cunt was so tight around his cock, when he pulled it out, the noise was a loud plop, and as he stood back, her cunt was wide open, and the spunk came out like a dam burst. He pushed my head down on her, saying "clean it up, faggot," but most was already on the floor. I got my face right in her and licked for all I could. I could hear James laughing at me, trying to get as much cum as I could. He put his cock to her lips and told her to lick it clean. She said no, so he took hold of her head and rubbed his cock all over her face and hair. He then went to have a shower, telling us that if the slut was not gone when he came out, he would stick his cock up my boy's cunt. She soon got up and dressed, and we left. Her cunt today is red raw and wide and big. I've been licking on it most of the night - she's too sore to get out of bed. Martin just phoned to meet up, as he got a pocket full of money for me.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/71/primevalbusinessman.txt
68,459	Anonymous	THE DARE	You are at a party with Paul. You know about a third of the people, and it seems a friendly group. People are getting to know each other, and a group in the back bedroom are playing "Dare." Dare, you find out, is a game where you pick a card when your turn comes and must accept the dare or take off something. One man is shirtless when you walk in, so the game has been going for a little while. One girl you don't know is in her slip. You ask Paul to join the game with you, but he wants to talk to some friends in the kitchen. You go in alone. When your turn comes, you are to, "With a blindfold on, kiss 3 members of the opposite sex and then say who was who." Three men are picked out, you are blindfolded. The first seems to be trying to lick your tonsils. The second uses less tongue, but spends nearly a minute feeling your ass as he kisses you. The third also uses a lot of tongue and not only feels your ass, but fondles your breasts as well. You tolerate all of it because if you stop any of them, you will fail the dare. You take off the blindfold and correctly pick out the three, one because of a beard, and the other two because of a guess at their height. When it is your turn again, a woman is down to her bra and panties, a man to his shorts, and you draw, "Show your underwear to anyone who can guess its color. Three people can try." You take a deep breath because you are wearing a garter belt with matching see-through black panties. You know that you can easily read through them. Again, three men are picked from the group. The first guesses that you aren't wearing any. You laugh and tell him he's wrong. The second guesses black, and you realize he's won. You get him to back up and lift your dress so that only he can see. He whistles appreciatively. The host of the game tells you that since you lost, you have to take something off, and with a sly grin, you reach under your skirt and untie the ends of your panties and set them on the dresser with the other discarded clothing. As you watch, two men lose trousers and a woman loses her bra, and two people quit the game, leaving only about ten of you still playing. The woman with nothing covering her breasts reminds the group that you haven't had as many questions as the rest and suggests that you get 2 extra to get even with the group. The group ignores your answer and quickly votes to give you the extra dares. Your next card says, "Take off your bra without unfastening anything on your dress or blouse." As your bra opens in the front, you are able to open it and pass each half down one of your arms without real trouble. As people see it, comments are made that it can easily be seen through. The host tells you that a rule of the game forbids putting anything back on. The next card says, "Have 3 members of your sex draw straws, and spend at least a minute French kissing them." They dig up some matches, and all of the women pick one. Nancy, a red-haired woman of about 24, (38-24-36, 5'10") wins. She grins and says that she always likes to win this part. She makes you sit on her lap, and the host reminds you that if you break the kiss, you will lose the dare. Nancy begins kissing you with great determination, and knowing that you have nothing much on beneath your dress, first fondles your breasts and then slides a hand under your skirt, right onto your mound, playing with your clit. You hold the kiss, but can't sit still with those experienced hands on your clit. She brings you to orgasm expertly, as you twist on her lap. When you break the kiss, the group applauds, and you see that 6 minutes have passed. Nancy keeps her hand on your throbbing cunt for a moment, and then you stand up. She still doesn't relinquish her grip until you have taken a few steps away. Your breath is faster than before, as you watch the next round go on. A man loses his shorts, exposing a thick hard-on. A second woman gives up her top. The woman with no top loses her skirt, leaving her with nothing. You wonder what will happen if they lose again. Bob takes this moment to return to the room. The host asks him if he wants to stay. Staring at the breasts of the two women, Bob says yes. They tell him that he must answer 5 dares if he is to remain. He gets the "Kiss 3 people of the opposite sex" dare, and you are second, Nancy is third. You grope Bob as the first woman has, rubbing his cock through his trousers. Nancy does you one better, unzipping his fly and reaching inside. Bob doesn't get you (thinks you were no. 1) and loses 4 of the 5, leaving him standing there in his shorts, with his erection trying to poke its way out. The host announces that things have gone far enough to bring out the really adult cards. You get the first. You are then blindfolded, and three pricks are put into your hands. You are amazed that you can't tell Bob's from the others. As everyone in the room looks on, you remove your top. The naked woman loses her dare as well, and all of the men draw straws. The host tells her that she will have to sit on the lap of the winner for at least 5 minutes. You watch her sit on the winner's lap, as he carefully slips his prick into her dripping hole, wondering if that will be your penalty as well. You all watch as the host times the woman. She tries not to react, as if her not moving would convince everyone that she is not really being screwed in front of everyone, but the man's slow stroking of her pussy causes her to begin to react after about three minutes. She is just getting into it when the host calls time and makes her get up. Everyone laughs at her reactions as Nancy and the host pull her off the man's erect member. Your next dare is to "Look at three women's breasts and then identify them while blindfolded and touching them only with your tongue." Nancy quickly volunteers, as do two other women. You look at their breasts, gauging their size and characteristics, and then are blindfolded. Your tongue makes contact with each breast in turn. You decide to try something and really give each of them a working over until they make some sound. The second woman is quiet until you use your teeth on her nipple and can't hold back her moan of pleasure. The third makes a moaning sound from the first lick. You recognize Nancy as the first, and guess at the other two. You are right. The Host calls you for a penalty. You used your teeth on one, and he tells you to remove your skirt. He planned to go further, but you can see in his eyes that he finds your black and red garter belt very kinky. He tells you that you must keep it on, but that you will have to pay off penalties the same as the other nude players from now on. He reaches into the penalty box and picks out an "ADULT" card. He doesn't show it to you, but has the three women read it. They slowly surround you and move you to the bed. Nancy sits down, and the other two arrange you on her lap. The one whose breasts you bit sits at your head so that your face rests on her mound and holds your arms so that you can't move. The last one holds your legs and begins to play with your cunt. "She really is wet, Nancy," you hear her say as her fingers begin to finger your clit and deeply probe you at the same time. Your hips involuntarily begin to squirm on Nancy's lap as Nancy delivers the first spank. Nancy continues for a moment and then asks you, "How many was that?" You don't know. She says, "Then we'll start over." Nancy continues spanking you while your cunt is being probed. You have kept count this time. At twenty, you hear her say to the woman holding your arms, "Has she started licking yet?" When she hears the "No," Nancy says, "We'll start again." You bury your face in the cunt that belongs to a woman whom you realize, you have no idea of her name. When Nancy asks you again, "How many was that?" Your count was 23. You guess you'd miss some and say, "twenty-five". Nancy says, "No. You'll have to do better, We'll start again." You can hear the others in the group applaud and call out encouragement, not to you, but to your tormentors. You hear Paul also congratulating Nancy on the show she is making you put on. At the same time, the hands on your cunt have never slowed down. You have lost count of your orgasms, (there have been at least 5), and judging from the number of times the woman you are licking has grabbed your head, she has had at least 3. The next time Nancy asks you to count, you tell her 25, and she tells you are right. She asks, "Sheila, are you satisfied?" to the woman at your head, and you hear her say, "For now, unless she's grown a dick," and the woman probing your love box also says she is done. Nancy tells you you must count out the next ten swats so that everyone in the room can hear and then thank her, Sheila, and Sandy by kissing their cunts. You agree.She takes over a minute to spank you ten times. You kiss Sheila's cunt without getting up and thank her. You get up and kiss Sandy's cunt and thank her, leaving Nancy's for last. You spend about three minutes on Nancy until you hear her come, and then thank her, and as you do, you realize that you mean it. The experience was most gratifying. Paul draws the next dare... Paul picks out a dare card, and his reaction to reading it shows he didn't expect it. "Using only your mouth, identify the cocks of 3 men while blindfolded." He turns to you and says, "You know, I really don't want to do this." You answer him, "You enjoyed watching me with 3 women. It's not going to kill you, and besides, think of what our host will think of as a penalty if you refuse." He thinks for a moment and decides to try it. You're not sure which of your arguments convinced him. You stare appreciatively at the three hard-ons that are displayed before the group. Paul is blindfolded, and you coax him by telling him that this is exciting you tremendously. He is done in less than a minute and only guesses one right. The host asks you to help with his penalty. Still blindfolded, he is forced to sit on the end of the bed. The remaining women in the room undress. Clothing is no longer a penalty. Each sits on his raging cock for exactly one minute. You are the fourth, and Paul recognizes you by the stockings you are wearing, if by nothing else, and he begs you to stay long enough to let him come. You give him a throat-clearing kiss and leave on time as his hips buck towards you. Nancy is the last one to slip onto his cock. She teases him mercilessly and leaves without letting him come. You tell the host you will help with any penalties that he needs you to. The host smiles at you and says that you will be welcome to join in on the next few... You see Nancy get the next card. She seems amused. She reads the card out, "Pick out three men and handle their cocks. While blindfolded, sit on their cocks and identify all three." She picks out three men from the group, but tells Paul that he's had too much recently and avoids him. She handles each cock until it is firm and is then blindfolded. She humps each one soundly, giving none of them a chance to come, though she is able to come on the third cock. She guesses wrong, and the general consensus is that she wanted to lose. The host asks you to help. Nancy is tied down on her face on the bed so that her hips bend at the edge. Each man is to fuck her for exactly one minute. You are to stand near her and insert each prick. The host will time them. You are to withdraw each one (by the balls if necessary) at his signal. You speak to Paul for a moment and take your station. You grasp the first of the 6 pricks that will enter Nancy's hole with both hands. Saying that it is necessary, you moisten it with your tongue and then expertly insert it. Just as she is beginning to move in time with her partner, the host signals you to end it. You gently grasp the prick and stop its fucking motion. You also moisten the second one with your warm mouth, putting it in and withdrawing it before she can get any satisfaction. The third and fourth go the same way. The host takes the fifth position, and you spend extra time on his cock, and mischievously ask him if he really wants you to stop. He tells you that he'll let you continue later. Paul is last. Nancy was thrusting her hips forcefully at the last two pricks, and you tease her by taking extra time opening the folds of her cunt for this last attack. Your finger slides across her clit as you open her. Paul enters her like the others, but after about 4 strokes, you have him pull out and with your help slide into her ass. Paul is in for only the requisite minute when the host calls time. Nancy thrusts back her hips to try to keep his swollen member in place but to no avail. The host asks for a vote on a special penalty for you. Nancy rolls over on her back, her hand slowly drifting towards her hungry snatch. No one votes against your special penalty. The host blindfolds you so that people can "Give you what you should get without your knowing who did what." A blindfold is placed over your eyes, and several sets of hands push you down on the bed. A cock prods against your mouth, and you hungrily begin sucking on it. A second buries itself into your dripping cunt, but after about 4 strokes, slips out. You feel your ass cheeks being parted. In a single thrust, he is in your ass. Only the cock in your mouth prevents you from crying out. You are rolled over on your side slowly so as not to dislodge either of the pricks fucking you, and two mouths begin sucking on your breasts. You feel that at least one is a woman's as you can feel no beard. Someone crowds up to your sex and tries to enter you. After a second, they succeed. You feel as if a mob was fucking you all at once... The whole group has seemingly climbed on you. The cock in your mouth is pumping with abandon. The cock in your cunt is pumping away, but with some difficulty. The one in your ass is still penetrating you, but its owner seems to be getting most of his stimulation from your heaves in reaction to the others on you. The two mouths on your breasts alternate between teasing you and stimulating you as hard as you can take it. You are glad for the blindfold in a way. The extra stimulation would only be a distraction. Someone takes your hand and puts it in their cunt and begins rubbing off on your fingers, using them like a dildo. You are so overwhelmed by all this, you can only react. It is as if you have become an object, losing your will. The cock in your mouth begins to pulse. Seconds later, a milky stream spurts down your throat. You try to take it all, but some drips down your cheek. Before you can recover, a pussy is put in its place, and you try to lick it correctly. The pair sharing your ass and cunt seem to have reached a rhythm together, their pumping forcing you to come. As you reach your second orgasm, you hear a cry, and the man humping your cunt comes. As he slowly withdraws, you can feel his semen slowly begin to run out of your hole. His partner in your ass continues to pump, if anything, with more force now. A face appears at your cunt and begins licking you out with a frenzy. The sensation of being ass-fucked and eaten together is a new one for you, and you begin to come again. Your hair is pulled, and you try to keep up with the demands of the cunt in your face. A new cock appears in your hand, and you begin rubbing it up and down. One of the mouths on your nipples leaves, and a rough pair of hands begins rubbing your entire breast, kneading it like dough. Off to one side of the group, someone is asking to give you a REAL spanking. The pussy you have been sucking on seems to force itself down harder. You lick it for all you are worth. Her thighs crush your face as she reaches orgasm. A new cock quickly replaces it and forces its way into your mouth. You picture a line of people at each of your apertures, waiting for a turn. You also realize that you have lost any connection between these sexual organs and the people they are attached to. The blindfold has taken away everything but your ability to feel what is happening, and you admit to yourself, you had secretly hoped something like this would happen. You had been in a constant state of arousal since Nancy fingered you. The man fucking your ass has seemingly reached a point of no return. He grabs your hips and takes charge of your movements. Seconds later, you sense rather than feel him spurting deep into your core. He lays down next to you, and you feel his cock soften, slowly slipping out of your ass. He slides away, leaving your backside exposed. The mouth on your right breast is replaced by another rough hand. Your breasts are massaged in tandem now. One hand leaves, and seconds later, you feel something on your chest, in the valley between your breasts. A hand spreads it around, and it seems to be hand lotion. Someone climbs on your stomach, slides up, and places a hard cock between your oiled tits. His hands push your breasts together, making them into a cunt for him to fuck. He goes after you with abandon. The cock in your mouth goes away without shooting down your throat. A steamy cunt replaces the cock in your hand. Someone is kissing your mouth, a woman you think, her tongue snaking down your throat. You can feel come leaking from your ass and cunt. The penis fucking your tits increases its speed. Someone pulls your legs up, exposing your ass. Ten hard swats are spread over the next minute, though someone's hand is now in your pussy, bringing you off. The cock on your chest begins to spurt, come hits your face, dripping down. The woman kissing you must have been hit too, but she has continued tonguing you without a miss. He gets off your chest. The mouth kissing you departs as does the finger in your snatch. You lay there exhausted for a moment. After about a minute, the blindfold is removed. You are handed a towel, and you pat yourself as you stare at the assembled group. You realize that your boyfriend was one of them, and that you couldn't even tell him from the others. The host tells you to thank each of them and tells you how. You kiss each woman's cunt and kiss and mouth each man's prick, thanking each of them. Just then, the door opens, "Where is every... body? Boy was I in the wrong room!" the newcomer says.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/07/dare.txt
68,560	Wayne Gibbous	Matt Learns a Lesson	You never know where things will lead in life. That sounds all grown-up and I'm only sixteen, but that is sixteen years of life, too. So here are the facts: My name is Madigan (Maddie to just about everybody), five foot, three and a half inches tall, "dirty" blond, brown eyes, considered "cute" by most and "hot" by my boyfriend. I weigh in at one hundred and seven pounds, my boyfriend's name is Jordan, and we've been together for seven months now. My mom is Rebecca (Becca, to friends) and she is an account broker for a financial company. My brother is Matthew (Matt to all) and he's just turned thirteen. Dad is gone, and that's about it. Oh, for you guys out there, yes, Jordan and I are "doing it" and, for any moms reading this, yes, I'm on the pill. My mom is one of those that thinks it's better to have little daughter on the pill than it is to become a young grandmother by surprise. Oh, also for you guys, I'm a 36 C cup; more than a mouthful. Happy now? OK, they also stand straight out, no droop, and have reddish-brown nipples (very sensitive to licking and sucking) and they get very hard very quickly. You guys happy now? You'll probably also want to know that I shave down there and have a very pretty little "kitty-box." I think so, and so does Jordan. You would too. (If I let you see it.) Well, what I want to tell you is about my stupid brother. To be honest, he was a great pain in the butt when younger, but recently he's becoming a little more tolerable. Especially after the incident I'm about to tell you. It was a Tuesday afternoon and I'd been home from school for about a half hour. I'd changed into comfy clothes (after running to take a pee, it's the second thing I do when I get home) and had come downstairs. I was passing by the dining room, when I noticed Matt sitting in front of the computer (yeah, Mom has it in the dining room, don't ask me why) and his arm is moving in a way highly suggestive of jacking-off. Now, I've never seen a guy masturbate before (Jason and I have better things to do, like each other) but there wasn't much doubt. I quietly walked up behind him (yes, he was engrossed) and looked at the monitor. Humongous boobs bouncing up and down on this bleached blond as she's attempting to do a strip tease. Oh, spare me, I thought. "What are you watching, you idiot?" Holy crap, he lurched and tried to tuck himself back into his pants. "Goddam, Maddie, you scared the shit out of me. Get the fuck out and leave me alone!" "Not until I see what you're watching." I leaned over to see and said, "Why don't you watch real girls instead of this inflated-boob bimbo? Real women have beautiful breasts even when they're small or a bit saggy, better that those fake watermelons. Geez." "Well, do you have any suggestions?" "Yeah, type this in: www-dot-ratemyrack-dot-com." "Rack? What's that?" "Boobs, dummy, tits, knockers, hooters, jugs, melons, get it?" The website came up on the screen. "OK, there's some real ones for you. Nice, huh? Look at her. Really nice. Small but nice puffy nipples. Or her, big boobs and big nips, little sag but nice. The next girl, hers look right at you but this pair look sideways. Aren't these nice? Better than 'Miss Hyper-Boobs' you were drooling over." "Yeah, thanks, sis. This is great." "Well, at least it's real. Look at her, they're just like mine." "Really, just like those? Oh Maddie, those are the prettiest I've seen so far. I saw you in a bikini last summer but if you look like this, you're the best." "Thanks little brother. Real ones are nice, huh? How did you get around the pornsite blockers Mom set up?" "Oh, I have friends who've figured it all out. It's not that hard to do." Pointing at the screen, he says, "So yours look like this. I think I'll bookmark this page. Just like Maddie's, yeah." "You mean your sister turns you on? You're a pervert." "Maybe but those boobs are to die for and you have them right under your shirt." "You wanna see 'em, don't you?" "Oh, Mads, who wouldn't? If they look like these (pointing to the screen), they're perfect. And I know you're proud of them. Right?" "What's it worth, little bro? A month of doing the dishwasher? And I get to see your little weenie?" "Oh come on Maddie, it's a deal with the dishwasher and it's fair to see mine if I see yours. OK." "You first, Matt." My brother stood up, pushed the chair back and pulled his shorts down. He had a big bulge in his jockeys and when he pulled them off, this rather large penis comes flopping down along with my jaw. "Wow, for thirteen, you've got quite a dick there, buddy. Face me so I can get a good look." "You can take a good lick, if you want." "Ha, ha, you should live so long. But I'll bet you'll make a lot of girls happy with that. It used to be such a little weenie but it's gone and grown up." Matt's cock was nice and long and pink with a chubby tip that would make girls feel really good going in and out. He had a lot of dark brown hair around it (Jason shaves, if you must know. I like it that way.) "Mind if I take a feel?" "You're not expecting 'No,' are you?" I reach over and take his cock in my hand, heft it up (this kid's no 'lightweight') and give it a gentle squeeze. "Nice, Matt. You really get hard." I slide my grip up and down a few times and he closes his eyes and lets out a little moan. He says that I have forever to stop but I figure I'd better quit while I'm ahead here. He looks a bit disappointed but then says, "Your turn, sis." Well, I made a deal, right? So I cross my arms and pull my tee off over my head. He stares wide-eyed at my white lacy bra. "Nice, Mad, really nice." I turn and ask him if he's ever unhooked a bra before. "No but I'll bet I can figure it out," and, presto, my bra opens and I shrug it off and turn toward him. "Beautiful, Maddie, beautiful. I knew you had great boobs but these are perfect. Can I touch them?" Well, fair play (with the emphasis on 'play') and all that, I say, "Sure, have fun. I might just enjoy it, too." He reached out with both hands and began kneading and rubbing my breasts. "Oh, Maddie, you're so soft and smooth. Really nice." He then begins to lightly pinch my nipples and circle them with his fingers. I looked down at his quivering cock and said, "I can tell you like them, little brother, you have a speedometer down there." I was enjoying the attention and could feel my panties getting wet. "Geez, this is my brother," I thought. "Can I kiss them?" "Just don't bite. Have fun, I'm enjoying it, too." He bent and lifted a breast to his mouth, kissed the nipple and began to lightly suck. Oh, the wetness began to soak me through. "Mmm, that's nice, Matt. Don't stop." As if I thought he would. He's sucking one boob and rubbing the other and my eyes are closed enjoying it. By now, I'm reaching down rubbing his cock with both hands. He's naked from the waist down and I'm naked from the waist up. Together, we're one naked and one clothed. Weird thought. "Let's turn off the computer and go upstairs," he says and almost without thinking I agree. "My room, I've got a queen-size bed," I add and we go up. I'm thinking, 'this is going to end in us fucking, I'm sure of it.' By the time we're in my room, he's got his shirt off and I've dropped my shorts and panties, the ones that said "Kiss the Kitty." "Oh, Maddie, just let me look at you. You are beautiful, perfect. I didn't know you shaved there," pointing to my pussy. "I did that when I was about your age. I like it bare there. I don't want to scratch any guy's lips or cheeks." "I'd give anything to kiss you there, Maddie." So, I laid down on the edge of my bed and spread my legs. "I'm all yours, little brother. I'll bet you'll enjoy this. I will." As I lay there, I was wondering if I really wanted to start fucking my brother. I know that if it happened, it would be a beginning and not just a one-time thing. I had to be prepared for us to be in each other's pants often and not just once in a while. Did I really want that? He was making it hard for me to think clearly as his tongue flitted in and out of my wet lips. On the other hand, boyfriends may not last forever and they're not always handy. He did have one great looking cock and he was giving me a very nice oral job. Well, except for one thing. She leaned forward and said, "Matt, you know about a girl's clit? Where it is?" "I know the word but not where. Is it inside?" "No, right here," as I spread the top of my pussy lips for him. "See this? Right there? Lick and suck that." Oh, yeah, he went right for it. I moaned as he sucked my little love knob.Oh, what the hell, I thought, I'm fucking him and I'm fucking him this afternoon. Right now. "Matt, this has to be just between us. Nobody else. You can never tell anybody." "Don't worry, sis, I'd never do that to you. You're my sister and I love you. Boy, I've seen parts of you that I love more than ever." "Well, if you can keep this secret, then I want you to fuck me. Have you ever done it before?" "No, I've hardly had any dates, you know that. I mean I know where to put it and all that but, no, I haven't done it before." "Oh, we've got a lot to cover then. You are right, though, it goes right in here," as I pointed to my pussy. I scooted up into the middle of the bed, put my knees up, spread my legs, and said, "Let's get started, Matt, lesson number one, missionary position, it's basic but hard to beat." He climbed between my legs and started to put his cocktip on my slit. "What about protection? I don't have a rubber." "It's OK, I've been on the pill for a while, not to worry. Just rub your dick around on me before you put it in. Get it wet on the tip first. Mmm, yeah, that's nice." Soon, he had it well inside and was doing what guys always do, sliding it in and out. And I was doing what girls always do, moving my hips around and around. "Oh, Maddie, this feels sooo good. You're so warm and smooth inside. I knew it would be great but this feels better than I ever thought. I want to do this forever. And I want to do it with you forever. I think...ooooh, ooooh, ooooh." Well, my little brother was cumming into his big sister's love box. I used to hate this kid and now he's got his dick in me and he's unloading his cum load. "Oh, I'm sorry, Mads, I didn't mean to cum so quick. You didn't get yours did you?" I told him that, no, I didn't but he could do me with his tongue if he couldn't get hard again. "You don't mind tasting a little of your own cum with my love juices do you?" He didn't even answer, he was down licking me as I swung my legs up over his shoulders. I was leaning on my elbows as he started licking my clit and running his tongue around it. "Mmmm, right there and suck there." He proved great at following my suggestions (well, truth be told, not all guys do) and I was getting wound pretty tight. He kept licking and sucking me as he put a finger in my pussy and massaged around and around. For a beginner, he was pretty good. "Put two fingers in, Matt. Yeah, like that. Oooo, good, good. Mmmm, just keep doing that. I'm almost ready... Ooooh, ooooh, ungh, oooh, Matt, OOOh." As my orgasm hit, an electric feeling shot through me, the tension in my body relaxed and I flopped back and felt engulfed with bliss. My whole pelvic area was flooded with this wonderful warm feeling. He brought me off faster than Jordan does; maybe it's the fact that it's my brother that seems extra exciting. "Did you like what I was doing, Maddie?" "Oh, Matt, keep that up and you'll make a lot of girls very happy. I sure am; it was a great orgasm." "Yeah, I thought you were in pain for a minute but it was great, huh?" "Yes, Matt, great." "I wasn't sure if I'd like licking you down there but it was great and you sure seemed to like it." "Here's a tip from your big sister, Matt, if you want girls to go crazy for you, giving them great oral orgasms like you did me will make you a star. Every girl I know loves a guy's tongue in their pussy." "I'm glad you caught me looking at porn, sis, you've taught me a lot and you've been my first lover. I'm getting hard again, can I put it in you again?" All of a sudden, my little brother is looking like it's nice to have him around. I open my legs and tell him, "You know where to put it. We still have time before Mom gets home."	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/63/matt.txt
68,888	Peter Darby	The Vampire Sex Story that Lasted	You've all watched 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' haven't you? Well, you know the opening credits: "Every generation there is a chosen one. She alone will stand against the vampires, the demons, and the forces of darkness. She is the slayer." In all this time that I have been on this earth, I have heard that a million times over the centuries. For those of you who haven't guessed it, I was a slayer way back in the good old days. Being a slayer means that at no time have I been able to endure a lasting relationship, as the ones I love always end up getting hurt. The year it started was 1880. It was a drab time back then, a lot different than things are today. I was barely a man when it happened, but through the following years, I have come to live with it as part of my religion. Over the last few weeks, I had been slaying ever since I don't know when, but I had been working ever so hard lately, and I let my guard down for just a second. It was a whore who took my human force and used it against me. Now, I wish I had stayed in the comfort of my own dwellings. I had gone to a shindig with the whore that was on my arm, but before the night was over, I would be turned to the dark side. As people were getting up to dance, I felt a shiver run right down my spine to the point where I was shaking all over with fear. The whore noticed my discomfort and started snuggling up to me and kissing my neck. I looked over to see what was making me so cold, but all I could see were people dancing. I made my way over to the bar with the whore by my side, quaking in my boots and tripping over people as they were getting up. God, if only I could have seen my future through the eyes of someone else, I would have taken a different path to the bar. Because, as it happened, I had stumbled on a vampire's breeding ground, and not until later when I was sipping my wine did I notice that it was blood. I spat it out and went to complain, when I got to the bar, the bartender wasn't there at that moment. I just blinked, and there he was again, saying he'd just had a little nibble out back and thought that there ought to be somebody out here ready to serve just in case. I complained about how I thought that the drink was blood, and he said that he too had thought that the wine had been blood when he poured it and said he would have to take it up with the pub owners. As I was standing there, a couple who seemed to be necking with each other came to the bar and ordered their drink. I just said that the wine tasted a bit off to me. Then, after I had got my drink and took it back to the table, I decided to go to the restroom and relieve myself. Whilst I was on my feet as I was coming out of the restroom, I was shocked to see that people had shed their clothes and were beginning to have sex. It was not just a few of them either; it was the whole place that was going at it. I decided that if I was going to be endangering my life with vampire slaying, I ought to have a piece of the action. People were getting really hot due to fucking so much, so I decided to join in and got the whore who was still on my arm onto the floor, tore open her knickers. Only then did I notice the stale odor that had been lying dormant in the room; it smelt like someone had died in this very room. As I got her knickers down to her knees, I took my prick out of my slacks and shoved it in up to my balls. Just a couple of strokes, and I was ready to pump my spunk into that lovely gaping hole. As she neared her release, she gripped onto my shirt and started tearing it to shreds. After a bit of this, she said that she really wanted to taste the remains of what we had just done. So, I got off her and shoved my prick into her mouth whilst I went on to taste that juice that seemed to be flowing so freely, mixing my spunk and her cream together. Though this was something that I enjoyed, I started to feel a bit awkward about the whole situation of being in a room with all these strangers doing what we were doing. As I started to get out of her pussy, I was pulled into her arms again on the floor. This was strange to me at first, and I then said to her, "Aren't you bothered about all the people here?" She said, "Why be bothered? We are all human." My tension eased up just a bit, but there was still something not right. At that precise point, she got my head down to her mouth and sank her teeth into me. With that, she said, "Don't you feel like a drink?" and with that, gave me her wine to take a sip of. There it was again, the taste, not disgusting like last time, but how could I describe the taste? It was like nothing I had tasted before, but I had got a similar recollection from my childhood, but WHAT! That's when I realized that I ought to get to bed because of the time. It had been dark when we had come to this place, but that was about 15 hours ago. God, was I bushed, and there was another difference - my eyes. I couldn't see straight, ohhh, and my head, ohhh, it felt all light. Suddenly, I became unconscious, unaware of where I was at that moment. I remember feeling a little afraid and unsure about myself. I slept till around 11 PM, and something was different. I couldn't see anything, and the pain that had been in my eyes had suddenly disappeared, and a warm, fuzzy sort of feeling had begun to take place. It felt as though my eyes had begun a small dance. You know what I mean? When you get an itch on your eyeball, and it will not go away, well, that's the feeling that I was having. Later that evening, when I met up with some people whom I saw at the party last night, I asked what was going on and why my eyes hurt when I had opened them this evening. They said that I hadn't used them before and that I would see things differently now that I was seeing like this. After that, I went out for a walk and to try and find some scraps littering the pavements, but ohhh, was I thirsty. I found a water tap situated in a dark patch of the undergrowth, but no matter how much I had to drink, the thirst wouldn't go away. By this time, the sun had begun to rise, and my skin - oh, the pain! I had to go sit under the shade of a tree; the pain was that bad. I decided to crawl under the bush, which was damp from the morning dew. A little later in the day, a family came walking past the spot where I was lying under the tree's stump, which had become worn and battered over the years. Firstly, the daughter stopped while the rest of the family was walking on down the lane. The daughter suddenly shouted, "Mommy, Daddy, quick, come here!" As the parents doubled back to where their daughter was standing, I think that I saw a smile come over that beautiful face, and all I was thinking about was myself at that moment. When the parents got to where the stump was, they asked their daughter what was wrong, and she said we have to help the poor old man whose lying under the tree stump. I was shocked by the knowledge that this little girl had. The parents tried to pull me out, but I said that I couldn't come out until later as my eyes hurt with the sun beaming down on me. Little did I know, but with the sun beaming down on me, it had hardened my skin to the sun's rays. When they did eventually get me out from under the tree stump with a coat shielding my eyes, I was surprised as the sun didn't seem to hurt my skin anymore, and it was only a matter of time when my eyes would get used to the light. With my clothes still barely hanging off of me by a thread, the Father, whose name was Archibald, I learned later, took me to his house and found me some clothes that I could wear. While trying to fix me up with the clothes, he asked me where I was from because he couldn't decipher the accent that I was using. I said that I was originally from a little place called Sunnyvale, which is in America, and he decided to let me stay as their house guest. Over the next few weeks, I became friendly with the little girl whose name I got to know as Kristen, and her mother, whose name was Elisabeth. As we sat and talked, I told them of my vampire slaying skills and that's why I had come over to England to slay as many as I could while I was taking a break, as I was feeling a little run down. After I had got them all relaxed, I said that I hadn't got any money to help with the food and to pay for my board and lodgings, but Elisabeth said that it didn't matter about not being able to help pay for the food. Because Archibald brought enough money home, and if he didn't, they just went out and collected dead animals that were lying in the forest. After that, they let me take Kristen out into the forest surroundings and collect animals.One particular day, we were out longer than normal, and Kristen wanted to pee. She was frightened to do it in the forest, as the scent would drive animals away, so I said that she could sit on my face and piss. Little did she know that, over the weeks that I had known her, I had developed a little crush on her. While sitting on my face, she quickly confessed that she wished I didn't have to go away, so I told her that I wouldn't if she didn't want me to. With this, she finished and said that she didn't want me to go. She then planted a kiss right on my piss-filled mouth. I hadn't swallowed it, as I was savoring it, trying to remember what she tasted like for the long walk home. After that, we used to go everywhere together, and I was just waiting until she turned 16. I suggested that we could seal our pact right then, and this way, she would be mine forever. She liked the sound of that, and we decided to strip all of our clothes and cuddle for a bit. When I entered her, I immediately felt a resistance, and she was crying in pain, so I pulled my penis out of her and calmed her down, telling her that everything was alright. I said that if she didn't want me to hurt her, I wouldn't, but if this was what she wanted, it would only hurt for a second, and then the pain she had felt would never be there again. So she relaxed, and I pushed it back in again, when we heard a popping sound, and my penis went right up to the wall of her sphincter. As we lay there, we gazed into each other's eyes and talked about nothing in particular. Then, suddenly, I said, "Are you afraid of dying?" She just shrugged her shoulders and searched her feelings. Then, she said that she didn't like the idea that she would die and that it was frightening her just talking about it, so I eased up on talking about it, but I would go back to it later on in the afternoon. All of a sudden, as my balls were beginning to throb, she said that she wanted to get back to the house and that her mom would be worrying for her safety, which was quite understandable, just like any mother would. As we entered the clearing, which led to her house, I stopped her and asked if she wanted to live forever and told her that I was going to live forever because I had found an elixir, and that it hurt for a bit, but it was fine afterwards. She was still a little scared, and I could see it in her eyes, so I decided to ask later on and let the air settle between us. As we entered the house, she ran to her mom, saying that she was sorry that we couldn't find any food and that she wanted to go outside and play, which sounded right to me. Although the woman was inside her body, she was still just a child in all proportions, and it wouldn't be right to just take it all away from her. With that, Kristen ran out of the house down to the lake that was nearby. Then, Elisabeth told me the news that had come while we were out about Archibald - he was blasting some rock because that's what he did for a living, and he got caught in the blast and died instantly. Elizabeth was crying and hugging me at this moment. I didn't know what to do in these sorts of situations, so I got her to sit down and made her a drink. My mouth was slobbering on the floor at this point, feeling hungry with all the gruesome details that she had told me. Looking over at her, I was starting to see where Kristen got her looks from. Carrying the drinks over to the table, I placed them on the table. Asking why she didn't tell Kristen about her father, she said that that wasn't her real dad, he had left when he had gotten Elisabeth pregnant, and that Archibald was her true love. He wanted to be Kristen's dad, as he wasn't able to have kids, and he had tried with her before, but sadly, nothing. Here she was now, to grow up a sad and lonely old woman with a child to raise by herself. I told her that I would love to help, but there was a secret that she wouldn't like if she knew about it, and then probably make me leave. I said that I had discovered an elixir and that it took the sadness away from your body and made you feel warm and fuzzy on the inside while you drank it. While I was telling her this, she had put her hand on the inside of her thigh and was rubbing that area. She then asked me where she could get this elixir from and what it would do to her when she drank it. I told her that if she drank this elixir, she would always be thinking, "What if?" But she said that she didn't care and asked what it was. I could have told her a lie, but I decided to tell her the truth about myself and everything that had happened to me. When she had heard all there was, she asked me to leave and never to return again. So I got up and started to walk to the door, saying how ungrateful she was, that I didn't want to hurt her, only to help her. When who should arrive back but Kristen, coming to tell her mother what she had seen. When she saw me standing by the door, ready to walk out, she asked what was up. Her mother said that I was an evil man who she wanted out of this house, so I left without another thought. As I neared the water's edge, Kristen came running to me, saying why did I have to go, why couldn't I stay and make friends with mommy again. I felt my eyes awash with tears at that instant and started running, trying to beat the air's breeze, which dried my tears to my tear-streaked cheek. After a couple of days had passed, I decided to return to Elizabeth and Kristen's home. Where, while I had been gone, another vampire had come and said that they were his and that if I wanted them back, I would have to fight and kill him. I didn't want to, but he was holding the only thing that was precious to me. I just quickly broke a chair leg and aimed for the heart. With the stake in him, he disappeared into a cloud of dust. I was greeted back with open arms and floods of tears and the news that I was a father. I was saying how sorry I was that things were how they were at this point and asked if they both wanted to join me in my struggle to kill the vampires. They would have to be turned in the end, but for now, and yes, when Kristen's child is born, it is going to carry on its father's tradition. Hopefully, it will be a girl. That is where our story ends, or the next chapter begins.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/06/vampires.txt
69,158	Lanka Cream	Morning of the Wedding	Young Louise, my niece, was to be married that afternoon. She was only 18. I had called around to my sister-in-law's house at 8:00 AM to help out. Louise's mother and her aunts were going to get the cake and set up the church, and would be back in about 2 hours. I was staying behind to set up the house for the after-wedding reception. Now was my last chance. I had lusted after little Louise since she was 13, and many a time we had wrestled and she had sat on my lap and felt my large erect cock, but I had never had the courage to make the last move. It was now or never. Louise stood 5'6" tall and had a lovely athletic figure. Her eyes were blue/grey, and her complexion fair. She had this most wonderful thick, curly, lustrous dark brown hair that fell to halfway down her back. She had a gorgeous full-lipped mouth. She had a lot of body hair and thus had to shave her legs often, which she did, but she left her arms hairy, and that looked cute and natural. I could only fantasize how hairy her cunt might be, but I had seen lots of tufts of hair poking out when she was in her bikini at the beach, so I had a good idea. It turned me on no end. Her breasts were a full C cup, bordering on a D cup, and she had huge nipples (matched by very large areolas) that were very evident at times, as I had seen her in a see-through lace bra a few times when I had "accidentally" walked into her bedroom knowing she was getting dressed. So, now her mom, my sister-in-law (whom I had fucked a couple of times), and the other women had left. I quickly erected the tables in the back patio, got out the spare chairs, put out the plates and cutlery, and put up the ribbons and streamers. The women would do the rest later. This had taken me only 20 minutes. There was no time to waste as Louise's mom and the others would be back here in an hour and a half. Little Louise was in her bedroom trying on her wedding dress. I took off my clothes and wrapped a towel around myself. I planned to enter her room on the pretext of saying I was about to have a quick shower. I was trembling in anticipation, and my cock was quickly becoming hard and erect. I knocked on her bedroom door but did not wait for Louise to answer, entering her room straight away. Louise was standing still in shock and was just wearing her expensive French silk camisole and lovely white satin and lace panties. I could see the dark patch of her pubic hair through her thin panties and also the large dark circles of her areolas and protruding nipples through the camisole. Louise said, "What are you doing in here, Frankie?" Before I could muster a response, the sight of the shadows of her pubic thatch and areolas had worked its magic on my cock, which surged to full hard erection and forced its way through the fold of my towel. Louise looked down at my cock and just said, "Oh Frankie!" I couldn't wait any longer and had to take Louise, whether she wanted it or not. I rushed to her and pushed her back on the bed with me on top. I forced my mouth over hers and my tongue inside her lovely fresh young mouth. She made a pretense of resistance, but I had little trouble keeping my mouth on hers. With a free hand, I pushed up her camisole and fondled her right breast roughly (but not too rough). She again made a vain attempt to stop my fondling, but it seemed rather a token resistance. My cock was the hardest I could ever remember. I had to have her. I briefly took my mouth off hers and slid down to roughly and powerfully rip off her panties. She had the biggest, hairiest, most lovely cunt I had ever seen. Despite the thickness of her bush, I could see her labia fairly clearly. They were wet and glistening and obviously swollen in arousal. I dived in between her fair thighs and fastened my mouth to her wonderful cunt. The lips of my mouth kissed her cuntal lips. I kissed and sucked and slid my tongue along her deep pleasure cleft and latched onto her huge clitoris. It was like a mini-cock, over 1 inch long, the biggest clit I had ever seen. She groaned loudly, "No, Frank! No... please don't! No... I'm getting married in a few hours, please don't." She was trying to push me away from her heavenly thighs and the entrance to her cavern of joy, but her pushes were not too convincing. I left her lovely wet hairy fuck box and crawled back up to her, while forcing my thighs between hers. The tip of my cock pressed on her thick wet bush. I kissed her again and made her taste herself as her copious sex juice was covering my lips and was on my tongue. This did not seem to bother her, and in fact, she seemed to be sucking her cunt juice off my lips and tongue. I broke the kiss and looked her squarely in the face. "I've wanted you for so long, Louise, ever since you were 13. I've got to have you, now." All she said was, "Then take me. Take me..." I did. She was very wet, so I just gave one hard thrust, and in I slid. My fat thick 7" cock just slid in and along her canal of joy. I felt the warm wet glove of her cunt grasping my throbbing cock. "Oh baby, oh baby, I want to fuck you forever," I cried out in a typical lust-driven rant. My lust and desire were so great that I knew I wouldn't last too long. I rammed her hard and fast, and she opened her thighs to give me unrestrained access to her womanhood. "I love your cunt, I love your cunt!" I gasped, "it's the most wonderful, hairiest, gorgeous cunt I have ever seen or possessed. I want to suck it, fuck it, fondle it and look at it forever, Louise, it's such a lovely cunt." "Take me, Frankie, take me. I'm yours. You can have me whenever you want, Frankie. David will be away working lots, so you can come over and take what belongs to you, anytime you like, after I'm married, Frankie." Those were the words I thought I would never hear. "Oh Louise, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum... are you on the pill?" Louise's response brought me to a peak of lust, "No, Frankie, I'm not on the pill, but cum into me anyway. Fill me up with your cum. Get your cum into me before David, and then we'll know it's your baby growing inside me, Frankie... would you like that?" I just groaned and gave a last powerful thrust. "Here it comes, Louise, here is our baby!!" With that, my cock spurted its first thick rope of incestuous sperm-laden spunk into my niece. Louise felt it. "Oh Frankie, Frankie, pump your spunking me! Your sperming your little niece! Oh, you wonderful bad man! Sperm me more! Sperm me! Sperm me!!" I did. I spurted and spurted. I roughly counted about 13 or 14 thick incestuous spurts. For the next 2 minutes, my cock continued to ooze its fertile incest cream into Louise's extremely fertile 18-year-old receptacle, her hairy wet pulsing niece cunt. I had deposited a few loads into her mother's cunt, and now I had spurt a huge load into her daughter's cunt, a cunt that was very fertile. My cock was still hard. After a few minutes, I pulled out and lay over Louise in a 69er and dived into her now cum-drenched cunt. I commenced to lick and suck her and latched onto her clit and sucked it with lustful frenzy. She grabbed my arse and pulled me down and engulfed my fat cock into her mouth. I tasted our combined sex juices, and she was tasting them too. Our orgasms came at the same time. I unleashed another massive load into her thirsty sucking mouth, and she swallowed it all. At the same time, Nikki gushed an amazing gallon of cunt juice into my eager mouth as her cunt contracted and spurt its orgasmic juices in tune with her orgasmic pleasure throbs. I stood in the church as she stood at the altar 5 hours later, knowing that my sperm was in her cunt seeking an egg while some of my spunk was leaking down her thigh. (She confirmed this later and said it made her even randier on the wedding night). She gave me a knowing wink and a smile as she walked down the aisle. We fuck regularly now, several times a week. She is pregnant. We know who the father is. The marriage is not the best. I'm sure one day we will elope; in the meantime, we have the most luxurious long wet noisy fucks during the middle of the day. Although she is only 6 months gone, her breasts have grown to huge firm lactating EEs. I empty them for her, about 2 liters every day. She says that her orgasms are fantastic when I am suckling the milk out of her as she cums. END	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/28/morning.txt
69,234	Holly Rennick	Risk and Risque	You play Risk? The board game, I mean. OK, then, how about the other kind? (MF-teens, 1st, mast) For me and my sister, the board game was where we'd deal every backstab, assault and annihilation the other ever deserved. Siblings have years of injustice to avenge. As the game touts, "Risk. Isn't it about time you ruled the world? In this combat classic, all you need to do is plan carefully, make decisions quickly and move boldly. The object is to conquer all 42 territories on the board, thus eliminating your opponents. You'll use dice and cards to shape the size, strength and locations of your troops, but it's up to you to make strategic decisions that'll keep you on the march. You must launch daring attacks, defend yourself on all fronts, and sweep across vast continents with boldness and cunning. But remember, the dangers, as well as the rewards, are high. Just when the world is within your grasp, your opponent might strike and take it all away! 2-6 Players." Being Claire's little brother posed many difficulties in my life's march, not the least being that every September I'd get her teacher from last year. "Oh, James Cronan. Claire's brother! You look just like her, such a model student." At least me being now fifteen, I was as big. I could (as I freely informed her) sock her in the jaw. But the real way to take a sister down a notch is to do it in her territory -- not by left hook, but by brain. Take a few risks and level her! And, heck, why'd I want to hit my sister? The board game was our battlefield. Watching her armies mass on my borders, I'd fortify and hit her from behind. Here are a few pretty good strategies: The road to victory almost always starts in the Southern Hemisphere. Take Australia and pile your power in Siam. Or conquer South America and fortify its two gateways. Leave Asia alone until you have enough troops to do real damage. One large attack is better than several medium sized probes. It's no use conquering a continent you can't hold. We'd set up in Claire's room and yell battle threats until Mom would call up to hush us. Of course, Risk is better with more players. Another player cripples the defense of a country you covet and you then sweep in to claim it. You can form alliances, spoken or unspoken. It's somewhat safer to be weak, even, when people gang up on the leader. We'd recruit the McCarthy kids, Dorrie and Dennis. Dorrie was in Claire's class and Dennis was a year older. Being fifteen and having an acquaintance (brother of sister's friend, actually, but we were friends, too) with wheels was fairly cool. The McCarthy's lived just two houses down and our families did lots together. Both dads worked at the Ford plant and both moms drank coffee. It's hard to be to social friends with a girl a year older, but Dorrie and I were at least good neighbors. We'd talk when she'd come over to hang out with Claire. I might even tag along with the two if they ventured where a little brother (who was as big, but that didn't count) wouldn't diminish their status. I couldn't go with them to the drugstore, but could come along to pick apples. Sometimes when the Cronan-McCarthy's played Risk, Dorrie and I would battle for the North American, South American, African half of the world while Claire and Dennis would vie for Europe, Asia and Australia. The winners would face off globally. But if Dorrie and I were thinking, one of us would swarm Europe from Iceland or North Africa while the other crossed the Bering Sea into Kamchatka. Bye, bye, big sister and brother! Actually, I always wanted to team up with Dorrie. I knew every bra she owned by its back. (Boys of my age find such things risqué, anyway.) Plus I'd seen down her neck enough times to know most by their fronts. One reason that I liked to play Risk with her was how much she'd lean over. Fifteen-year-olds can get very horny about an older girl, especially one who plays you like a piano. If Dorrie came over and Claire was still in the bathroom, she might kill time with me in the living room. My teacher had me working on "Duets from the Fabulous 50's", lame arrangements, but "Just Walkin' in the Rain" beat playing another sonata. Dorrie was the better pianist and we could rock if we both knew the tune. Kids, of course, like to complicate things. Rather than Dorrie's two hands on the upper register and mine on the lower, how duets are arranged, we'd try it with alternate hands: my left pounding the bass notes, her left catching the next span, my right going for the lower high notes, and her right doing the musical fluff at the top. Mistakes made it all the more fun. The serendipitous part for a guy came in running my right hand up the keyboard while Dorrie's left ran downward. By the time I was an octave above Middle C and she was an octave below, I'd be against her chest, not only touching, but bouncing her tit with the sixteenth notes. Her breast reminded me of a half-apple. The first time, I assumed that we'd promptly rearrange our parts or at least I'd have to make my right arm go over, not under, hers. Less propensity for titillation. But as it was only the edge of my arm perhaps, she let it go. She knew what was happening, though, how I'd cock my elbow to best advantage. Probably me being just her girlfriend's little brother helped out. I was safe. Lots of guys would chicken out, her being older. But not me. If I weren't good, she not have let me do it to her. If Mom came in the room, Dorrie would disengage.If it were just my sister, however, Dorrie would have us do the refrain again until I could see my boner, but couldn't cross my legs. I'm sure she noticed. If I gave Dorrie a good finale, both girls would be grinning. She'd bet that I couldn't play a refrain by memory. To test me, she'd stand behind the bench and cover my eyes, my hair touching her chest. Or she'd have us try duets, me doing the bottom and top, her doing the middle hands. She'd sit on my lap where I could hardly see the score. I hoped her butt couldn't tell, especially when she'd be on me dead center. Claire would kibitz that we still didn't have it right. I didn't even know that Claire and Dennis were dating. He was just a neighbor and she was just my sister. The fact that he'd pick her up in his jalopy didn't seem significant. But looking down from my window one evening and watching them kiss told me otherwise. It was evidence on her that I might need to nullify evidence she might have on me. For example, let's suppose something like that she knew I jacked off. Actually, why suppose? She just seemed to know what I was doing in my bed and, loud as could be, once called through my door, "Hey, James, Madagascar's always fun." I froze, cock straight out, and forgot to catch the mess in my sock. Why Madagascar? I don't know, but maybe because in Risk it sort of looks like my you-know-what. When we resumed our Risk contest the next night after homework, Claire threw endless cavalry at my hardly-defended African island. It made no sense strategically until she triumphed, "Surrender, Madagascar," when it fell. She didn't say anything more through my door, but when I thought of her saying it, I'd shoot my sheet too often. It being Claire's job to start the laundry, she'd check. I knew it. So then I'd look at my sheet and wonder what she'd think and need to do it again. I don't know what she told her friend, but next time we played four-way, Dorrie said the same "Surrender, Madagascar" to me and they laughed. Dorrie and I were even working together, more or less, except for her sally. What made it not a total loss was that in doing so, she'd leaned over Africa enough times that I'd seen both sides of her bra. "Surrender, Western United States and Eastern United States," I'd wanted to respond. I'd got somewhat adept at hearing Dennis drop off Claire after a school dance, or whatever. I never went to those things. If I got to my window in time, I'd catch their goodnight before hearing Claire thump up the stairs. I guess she thumped to tell the folks that she was home within the allotted time. It's not that I could see a lot when they said goodnight. Being her brother, I'm not sure that I wanted to, though of course I tried. It made sense that they'd like to kiss. I was a little more surprised that she let him feel her up, but I'd doubt that he was getting in her sweater. I'd seen the white of her bra. Getting her bra off or reaching up her skirt didn't seem like what a neighbor would be doing, though. But then one Saturday, not three minutes after thumping up, Claire tapped on my door. "James?" just a whisper "I'm sleeping." "It's me," again hardly audible. I secured my PJ fly and let her in. "Here's the plan," as if I'd agreed to something. "Follow me and hook the latch behind me, in case Dad checks. Then at 1:30, come down again and undo it." I looked at her, little-brother blankly. Whatever for? "You can stay awake that long, right?" she asked, as if my hesitation related to needing my sleep. "What for?" I verbalized. She looked at me and grinned. "For the rest of my date, dummy!" I must have still looked dumb. "I'm sixteen," she justified. Then my sister did the most surprising thing. She pooched and nailed me with a kiss, not just a regular sister peck, but a smooch that ended with an extra tongue in my mouth. "Hey, don't," I objected, but didn't reject her proof of being sixteen. "Like it?" registering my compliance. "Well you just make sure for shit the door's unlocked at 1:30." She thought a minute. "It's kinda like in Risk how you don't defend borders with your ally. Want another kiss for good luck?" I guess I did like it. "Do me a Madagascar and tell me tomorrow," she giggled, after Frenching me for practice. Anyway, I did take care of the door and heard neither Dennis' car nor Claire on the stairs. Fortunately she never asked if I did a Madagascar for her. Maybe that's why I didn't hear anything. After that Saturday, I more-or-less was door boy. Sometimes I'd masturbate, just thinking about her and Dennis. I had no idea how far they were going, but it was far enough to make risk-taking worthwhile. Sometimes Claire would give me one of her kisses, not as practice, but just because she was in a good mood. My tongue in her mouth seemed to make her mood even better. For never having made out, I was pretty good, she agreed. She didn't seem to mind if her breast would touch me. I liked that part especially. Not long thereafter, we were playing two-person Risk on her floor, her artillery in the process of rolling over the scant defense of my Asian overextension. "You're cool, James," as Afghanistan fell. "So at least leave me Africa," I suggested, knowing she disliked ending games too quickly. Staged decimation in stages was her preference. "You keep it," she agreed, ending her attack with the Middle East. "Phoobah of Madagascar," she proclaimed, then dropping her voice to a whisper, "You knows about me; me knows about you." She was sitting like Dorrie would, neckline showing what I knew to be an A cup from her underwear drawer. Her bras and Dorrie's, I knew them all. I even knew that they'd traded one time. I must have looked too innocent, a look I was prone to affect if I feared that guilt might broadcast on my forehead like an RCA. This was her bra with the lace trim, the one that she wore to the Autumn Skies Dance in the gym. "Good ol' Madagascar," she giggled, calling my bluff and diving over the game board to topple me backwards. The game description does mention, "making decisions quickly and moving boldly." "The pieces," I objected, forgetting bosom infatuation and unsuccessfully trying to stay on my elbows. "We'll never..." I hadn't time to finish. Her tongue was already in my mouth and her breasts were pressing my chest. "Come on, Jamsie, let's go. You know how." I struggled to get her off, but once she teased my mouth open, she'd all but conquered. If I'd rolled her over, a reverse we'd call it in wrestling, I'd have had to decide what to do. Maybe kiss her until she said uncle. I let her pin me. "Madagascar!" she triumphed, still on top, attacking my tongue until my boner was firm against her pedal pushers. She knew exactly what she was doing with her leg. And like the Phoobah of Madagascar, I let her. Realizing that I was no longer pushing her off, "Wow!" she whispered, her voice secreted in the clamor of combatant lust. It didn't occur to me that such might be a claim of victory. If she felt "Wow" about me, why fight it? I felt rather "Wow!" myself, pushing up, liking how she pushed down to help. Her on me, we lay together, kissing so we didn't have to talk while we rubbed legs. The next morning, "Wow!" she whispered in front of the bathroom. Then she reverted to big sister. "How'd Madagascaring go afterwards, Jamsie?" She deserved the left hook I'd warned her about, but she pre-empted me with a kiss too quickly. Both breasts as well and she was still in her pajamas. It was the middle of the week when the McCarthy two came over. We'd convinced our respective parents that we'd completed our schoolwork, so they could stay till 9:30. Dennis had the A&W and Claire had the popcorn when the four of us repaired to Claire's floor, Risk's established venue. Being junior, life's fate, I had to set up the board and distribute thirty infantry to each player. But, ha! I won the die, selected red and put an army in Western Australia. After we claimed our dominions, I shuffled, let Claire cut and took first draw. World dominion, here we come! Knowing that I'd have first move, Dorrie without hesitation gave Eastern Australia just a token army. I picked off New Guinea from Dennis. As Dorrie had next play, she came south from Siam and expelled Claire (ha! ha!) from Indonesia. When Dorrie left her acquisition minimally defended, certain to my capture (and thus a continental bonus next round), the others called foul. "You can't alliance before there's a reason," argued my sister, ineffectually dribbled across the Northern Hemisphere. "There's already a reason," argued my benefactor. "We play piano duets." Claire gave Dorrie her you'd-even-shoot-your-best-friend look, but then laughed. "Partners to the final stanza, right?" Dorrie looked my way, "Right?" I nodded as if we'd signed a nonbinding treaty. "Well then," judged my sister, "me and Dennis have to stick together. Right, Dennis?" "Right." "Really close together," Claire clarified, sliding beside him, and then, when he patted his knee, into his lap. "Go shut the door, Jamsie," my sister's afterthought. The rules say how you rotate turns, not how you sit. Not who takes care of the door. "So General Dennis, Sir," my sister's banter. "We're doomed for Madagascar?" Dennis looked at the board, trying to see the logic, the two girls already laughing far too much for tactical analysis. The "Madagascar" only confused me for a moment and then I suppose I turned red. "Well if you want to concede the rest, we'll leave you that place," agreed Dorrie. "Maybe while you get yourself fortified, James and I should go play duets? We can play some different ones, even." "No, stay here," Dennis interrupted. "Their folks would wonder why we didn't come down too."And play Risk with us?" asked Claire, locking Dennis' hands around her stomach. "And play risky," ruled Dorrie, running her fingers over an imaginary keyboard. The musical figment of her imagination wasn't that far above my folded leg. "Riskmaninoff's between the Urals and Siberia, but it's hard to see on the board," tracing where she'd situate the country. "That's our capital," now playing my knee. I didn't know what to do when Dorrie hopped into my lap, but had a reprieve when Claire told me to push the rug against the crack under the door. "Unnecessary risk," she clarified. "Mom and Dad aren't totally deaf." I fixed the rug, just in case for whatever. Claire wasted no time in leaning back into Dennis. "So everybody's already felt everybody's boobs before," she declared, like this was some sort of camp stunt. My sister said, "boobs"? Everybody? I presumed she meant hers and Dorrie's. I guess I'd bumped them messing around, but wasn't sure that counted. As nobody contradicted her, though, I guess it did. I knew that Dennis had done Claire's in the car. In fact, he was all but doing her right in front of us, just not over the points. I had no idea about him and his own sister, but supposed they'd wrestled around like siblings tend to do. "Everybody's already felt everybody's hard-ons too," Claire declared. Shit! Nobody had ever felt mine, unless you count Claire's leg when she tackled me or if Dorrie could feel when we'd played duets. But it wasn't as if they really felt anything. Dennis was grinning a bit sheepishly. Was Claire saying this because she was sitting on his? Dorrie feeling Dennis'? I'd have said absolutely not, except when I thought of them wrestling. Shit! I'd never even heard a girl mention hard-ons. It was more of a boy's brag on camping trips. Claire was just warming up with her declarations. I'd had a big sister too long not to anticipate her setting the tone. "And everybody's seen everybody's bra." Like the hard-ons, this one again seemed gender specific. I'd seen her bra a thousand times, but that hardly counted. What did count, I realized, was seeing hers and Dorrie's when we played Risk. Claire looked at her friend who first looked away and then looked back blushing. "OK, then," ruled big sister, "brassieres ho!" Unwrapping Dennis from her torso, she pulled off her sweatshirt, revealing her cotton cones. Dorrie on my own lap did the same. Looking over her shoulder, I could the see the valley of her rib cage, the fabric stretched above. It's really different to see two halves in open air than it is to just glimpse part of one under something. Claire hushed when we heard could be steps on the stairs, but it was just Mom hanging a coat by the bottom landing. Claire must have concurred with my assessment. "Shirts off," to Dennis and me, puffing her chest to look stacked. Dennis right away pulled his polo shirt off and Claire seemed rather pleased with his acquiescence. He was, after all, older and a guy. When I didn't follow suit, Dorrie turned enough to grab my Cubs tee shirt at the waist. I guess I didn't have to let her, but interdiction would have looked babyish. Raising my arms, I was topless. She smiled at me and settled back, my arms wrapped around her bottom ribs. I didn't want to do anything wrong, but really didn't have to do much to feel how pliant she was. With just her strap, we had lots of skin touching. Seeing what I was seeing, being part of it, gave me one big erection. And Dorrie wiggled her butt to make it bigger. So I poked the underside of her bra to get even and we both giggled. "Hey!" Claire noticing our altercation. "You two want a little privacy, a blanket or something?" "We're not doing anything," lied Dorrie for form's sake. "Good," decided Claire, "'Cause you can't play Risk under a blanket." She turned to look over her shoulder. "So Dennis, who's better, us or them?" "No contest," Dennis smirked. He was definitely on her pointed parts. Claire turned back our way, "Race to conquer the world, you weaklings?" I wasn't sure how to read her, but Dorrie sat up. "Are you serious? You know good and well that..." Her thought trailed off. "Oh, come on, Dorrie!" Clair answered whatever was unspoken. "We're not going to with you two here. Nobody said take your pants off." Pants? Claire and I had on Levis. Dennis had cords and Dorrie was wearing shorts. Sure, the four of us were fooling around, but it wasn't like we were really doing anything dangerous. "Honest, girl," added my sister, obviously trying to retain her agenda. "James is really speedy sometimes. Thinking about you." Whatever innuendo was intended wasn't lost to Dorrie. "Really, Jamsie? About me?" she asked in her best purr. Claire's grin at her friend's co-conspiracy was to her ears. Are they talking about masturbating, I wondered? It's none of their business! "So wanna race us," my sibling pursued. "No," Dorrie and I answered together, she adding, "We're not practiced." "Watch how then," retorted Claire, sliding off Dennis and flopping on her back, hands behind her head. "Come on, Dennis, show them. No, first James gets me my pillow." Dennis didn't look our way as he spread himself to blanket his partner. I could tell he was confident, though. You'd have to be confident to lay bare-chested on top of a girl in a bra. Dorrie and I watched them kiss, tonguing being a major component. Claire's skill, while animated, wasn't anything that I couldn't have followed up on. She already let me practice, though I presumed Dennis didn't know. Actually, it seemed pretty natural when Dorrie pulled my hand up to hold her front. I guess I was a little surprised to feel her nipples, hard within, but I tried to act like it was regular. Clair turned her head enough to confirm our attention, flash us a smile, and return to Dennis. Originally he'd had his legs around hers, but in their gyrations, he was now between her knees. I forgot about Dorrie's breasts and maybe she forgot about my hand. They weren't going to fuck, were they? The other two clearly knew how to work together, Dennis now sliding up and down between my sister's legs, my sister pushing up vertically to meet his horizontal thrust. They both looked determined. I was glad for their sake I'd sealed under the door, as the physicality of their rubbing was regular and audible. I wondered if they'd go faster with their pants off, but maybe not. Dorrie and I made not a peep. It was almost like I was holding Dorrie to me to protect her. In any case, I could feel her heart. My erection absolutely wedged into Dorrie's shorts, but neither of us was trying to emulate our siblings' friction. I'd have come if she had. In not more than a minute, it was over, Dennis red-faced, but seemingly at ease, Claire moaning just enough for us to hear her climax. I suspected she vocalized it for our edification. She then lay still under Dennis. I'd seen guys come at Scout Camp, won a few contests myself, actually. But I'd never watched a female, much less my sister. It sort of looked the same -- lots of facial tension followed by total nothing. It didn't occur to me to wonder what part of Claire worked like the underside of my cock. I knew the term for what they'd done. I'd seen a dry hump. Witnessing something so sexual is emotionally draining on you, too. Claire lazed us a look, satiated to be sure, but a look that also conveyed, so that's-how, boys and girls. Only two had risked it, but all four of us were partners. Claire looked down to see if her bra was still proper. It somehow was. "That's the quick version," she volunteered. "The real contest is to make it last the longest." Dennis mumbled something I couldn't understand. Dorrie settled back and pushed my hand up into her bra. Her nipple was like a little grape. When I pushed out the fabric with the back of my hand, I could see down. It was pink. Dorrie must have wanted to show her friend that she didn't need instruction in everything. And I'd just come to play Risk. We actually finished the board game to the point of Dorrie and me purging the globe of lesser empires. When their doom irrefutable, Claire and Dennis just made suicidal marches to deprive us the joy of smashing their defenses. Claire had regained her position in Dennis' lap and was letting inside him her bra too. She wouldn't let him push it off where I could see, though. I figured it was because I was her brother. Dorrie and I decided to call our own showdown a draw. The board was half her color, half mine. RISK FOR TWO It was a little awkward seeing Claire around the house. She'd told the other two that I masturbated. Worse, she'd said it to Dorrie where I could hear, so now I knew that Dorrie knew that I knew that she knew that I did it. Knowing that Dorrie knew I was doing it made me want to jack off again. That was one thing. I'd seen Claire make out all the way to climax. That was a different sort of thing -- the sort of thing not my fault that makes me masturbate. So maybe it wasn't that different from the first thing. Knowing that Claire showed me made me do it even more. It sounds confusing, but when you're on your back, it all flows together. Fortunately, Claire didn't hassle me, and actually, to my surprise, volunteered to explain a way to remember the quadratic formula for math. I'd see Dorrie just in passing at school, and it would just be, "Hi." It was days later when Claire flagged me into her room. Risk was already set up. "Ready to risk getting creamed, weakling?" shutting the door. Nothing different from our standard blustering. Or so I thought at the time. But maybe I should have caught the, "creamed". We traded a few countries not worth defending before we began to mass forces on the battle-lines. I was going to end up the stronger."Cheater!" Claire accused. "You can't roll three dice with just three armies!" Without waiting for my explanation (I'd had four, but one was standing near another border), she jumped me, just like before, once more messing up the board. "I had four," but by then she was on top, laughing, "Double date practice, sucker!" Once I was down, her intent was manifest. "Come on, Jamsie. Kissie?" She'd figured me out from before, and I pretty much knew how her tongue would find mine. I didn't counterattack any more than to make it obvious that it was all her doing. If I squeezed her breast a little, it was her fault. But as Claire-flippant as was her "Kissie?" prelude, behind it I recognized stone-faced want. Part of it, of course, was pure-and-simple sexuality I knew from before that she liked to orgasm. The other part, though, was something about me. She wanted to see me capitulate, to ally, to climax with her. I was already hard when she straddled me, grinding me the way that Dennis had ground her on the same floor. If I could have broken away from her mouth, I'd have made her stop. But she had the back of my head cradled with her hand. And actually, by the time I was enough together to know that's what I should have done, I knew that she'd make me come. Had I not seen her climax before, I'd not have realized the outcome so far in advance. Realization, though, made it destined. She knew the instant that I started to cooperate. "Let me be on top," she asked, and I think it was a request, not a demand, what I'd normally expect of her. "We'll do it really nice." In case of a tie in the board game, the defender wins. As the defender now, I'd settle for less than a draw. Don't risk messing up an orgasm. I let my sister hump me so very slowly for the longest time, not at all like the frenetic shoving I'd seen with Dennis. Maybe the way she'd showed me her bra told me she knew what I'd like, when to back off so I'd not fire, but at the same time, when to attack so I'd resist. I suppose that she was measuring her own instincts the same way. In any case, when I did come in my pants, I was tingling. When she followed suit, she puffed little puffs of air on my neck. "Don't tell the other two," ending it not romantically, but then, I was just her brother. "And just so you'll know I'm listening, I can always hear you through the wall when you jerk off." Before, I'd have seen her revelation as another way of getting one up on me, letting me know who's the older. But having just shared orgasms, it didn't seem an affront; it seemed like something that I didn't mind her knowing. "Think of me listening, doing it quieter than you, and it will be more fun," she added as an afterthought. In getting the game board picked up, I saw how she'd blocked the door bottom with her rug. RISK THEREAFTER Like the game's advertisement says, "Just when the world is within your grasp, your opponent might strike and take it all away!" But Claire didn't take anything away. So did the two of us become lovers? Carnal sex on her floor, then on her mattress? Sibling besting fanned by the thought that Mom might hear. No, we didn't. Coming in our pants was right for us. I didn't get in her panties, and she didn't get her hand around my boner. Sometimes, though, in my own bed I'd hear the faintest of taps on the wall. Semaphored signals telling me to tease myself harder. Maybe sisters just know stuff. Claire might as well have had her fingers around me and done the stroking. Her tap-tap-tap just consolidated her hold on Africa, so to speak, me paroled from captivity in Madagascar when we played four-player Risk. The rulebook never says you can't rule the world sweetly. I always see Claire's breasts and usually her pubic hair, reddish like mine, while Dennis fucks her. I'm busy fucking Dorrie, though Dorrie knows I'm looking at my sister too. I'm really good at fucking. We try to slide the game board aside so as not to lose track of our countries while we fuck. Should Mom or Dad ever come upstairs, we'd have had the board in place, though maybe not our underwear. Dennis and I don't talk about sex, probably because I'm younger and he has friends his own age. We just do it to our girlfriends in the same room. I expect that Dorrie and Claire keep each other informed, though. Since Dorrie and I don't actually date or anything, it's really rare that we're alone, other than sometimes at the piano. The reason that I think that the two might talk is that on a day after Claire taps on the wall, Dorrie will goose me while I'm trying to get the bass line. "So what'd you think of last night, Madagascar boy? Our duets?" I'll keep working on the bottom notes as long as her left hand takes her. If Mom rustles in, of course, I'm left aching. In Claire comes in, she sits on the sofa or even stands behind me, probably hoping that I'll make a big wet spot. One more thing she'd have on me. I guess I'm just wondering how much evidence she wants. Duets? Not really, other than as hyperbole, a term I learned in English. No, what I think about is playing Risk. The girls are almost always side-by-side, close enough to hold hands. Claire always turns her head our way. My sister watches my boner more than Dennis' sometimes. If I'm kneeling between Dorrie's knees still, it really sticks out. Even if they're not holding hands, the girls usually come at the same time. Someday when we're playing a two-person game on her floor, she'll start to capture me and I'll say no at first. It's too risky. But you know what? In Madagascar, they still speak French. What's "risky" to us is "risqué" to them. Parker Brothers bought the game from a Frenchman in 1957. I'll need to push the rug against the door, since I'm the younger.It's okay to read stories about unprotected sex with others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't okay to have unprotected sex with people other than a trusted partner. You only have one body per lifetime, so take good care of it!	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/28/risk.txt
69,565	Peter Pan	One Way Ticket To Hell	Yeah, I AM going to Hell, no two ways about that. I've earned the right, and I'll pay the price. To sell your soul isn't the easiest decision to make...took me at least ten minutes. But you see, God should never have bequeathed me such a sexy little daughter... not having in mind the irreparable cranial perversions that floated through my frontal lobes unchecked on a daily basis. How was I supposed to look at Stephanie growing up and not have these thoughts? I'm a man, aren't I? A God-forsaken fucking-machine with needs. Just bad luck for Stephanie, I guess, that they were never likely to be fully satisfied by Playboy, Penthouse, or Lolita.Com. Always had a thing for young girls. Burnt-out whores kind of missed the boat for me somehow. Beats me how anyone gets off looking at leather-faced sluts posing as schoolgirls, cellulite-ridden wives down on their luck, traumatized trannies, or even sad old grannies, come to that. Now, I'm not an advocate of exploiting pre-teens either. The sight of six and seven-year-old girls being undressed, fingered, and whatever else, appalls me as much as the average guy. No, it's the teenies that get my attention. Still under-age, admittedly, but they have that sexual awareness, and the whole damn system is running on hi-octane estrogen by then. My earliest hell-bound thoughts towards Stephanie had their inception around the time she turned twelve. I remember the exact day. The whole family being in a flurry to get to our in-laws' place for dinner, I had hastened into the bathroom, unaware Stephanie was still in there. Just stepping out of the shower as I flew in, the sight of her naked body, in all its youthful sculptured magnificence - slim hips, budding breasts, and first-up downy hair surrounding her child's pussy - tipped me over into daddy's-gone-a-hunting mode. She covered up, of course, after a cute little girlish shriek, but the damage was long done. I wanted to fuck her from that moment on. Many was the subsequent night I would make love to my wife with more than my usual physical exertion, only to have her enquire "Wow, what's gotten into you tonight?" Fact is, of course, I had been fucking Stephanie in my mind. Not hard when she is little more than a younger version of her mom. Both are very slim, girlish, and desirable. It became an obsession. Taking her to school and watching her run around with her friends, I noticed her breasts developing on a daily basis. Having her sprawl on the lounge beside me some nights watching TV, oblivious to the effect she was having on me. I would spend more and more time up in her room helping her with homework assignments, just watching her little mannerisms. How she would hug herself sometimes while reading, playing with the pendant around her neck while she figured out a math problem, flick her pretty hair out of her light-blue eyes while I would explain something to her. I would stand behind her desk, specifically for the chance of glancing down her top even for a second. How I longed to put my hands down inside that frilly little bra and hold both breasts, rub her nipples and confess how much I loved and wanted her - in a sense she would never have been able to understand. Whenever she wore a short skirt or tight jeans, my eyes would focus on that hot little bottom, and I would fantasize about pulling her panties down and kissing it for hours, one finger up between her legs fingering her as I did so. This was murder! No one ever suspected a thing, of course. My wife was clueless as to the lustful and highly improper images that were criss-crossing my mind, roiling through my grey-matter with relentless monotony. Stephanie was sixteen now, and for four years, I had withstood the chronic urges that stirred my hellish fantasies. I knew I could never make any move as such, the risk of losing my daughter's love and respect, not to mention my marriage, were both sobering enough influences. Neither was I mentally equipped for doing twenty years in the slammer, where pay-back sex of a less glamorous nature would undoubtedly await me. If only I had never gone to the club that Friday night. It had all started so innocuously. Queued up at the bar waiting for my "usual" - a Chivas Regal on the rocks, I ran into Gary, a workmate from the office. Both of us being unaccompanied, we sat down at a corner table and got talking. A little later, the scotch got talking. Inevitably, the subject of sex came up. Gary, himself still single, belabored the fact that being unmarried still, sex for him was running at an uncommonly infrequent rate and that this was an aspect of his life that could well do with a sizeable boost. In a roundabout "I'm-only-kidding" sort of way, I introduced the fact that my daughter who was now sixteen, was a regular teenage hottie and that I wouldn't mind participating in a liaison of sorts...given her complicity of course. Gary looked at me quizzically, "Really? You'd like to fuck your own daughter? Whoa!" "Hey pal," I said, trying to make light of the situation, "Wait till you have your own teenager and have her flash her bras and knickers around. Let's see what thoughts come to your mind every so often." He was quiet for a moment. "To be quite honest with you," he said quietly, sculling the last two inches of bourbon, "I have always had this really bad fantasy of raping a girl - you know, a hot little schoolgirl?" Images of Stephanie being sexually abused suddenly showed themselves full-screen in my head, and I realized that I too had always harbored other fantasies of seeing her raped. I felt my entire blood supply suddenly placed on red-alert. Several liters invaded my procreative area, and I knew instantly that I was lost for all money. "Hey, maybe we can help each other?" I muttered, a half-assed nervous grin across my face. He had gotten us two refills, and the conversation dipped to its lowest decibel rating of the evening. Possibly due to the depleted condition of my primary logic circuits, I poured out to him the scope of my tortured urges and the lengths at which I might be prepared to go, to address their pressing needs. "Are you serious Mike?" he asked at one stage. "You would let your daughter get raped? Damn! Don't suppose you have a pic of her on you, do you?" As it happened, I did - a recent one in her school uniform. I showed him it. "God Mike, I see what you mean... she's pretty fucking hot, isn't she?" My conscience was screaming out for me to call it a night, to just tell Gary I had been kidding around and to go home, where a cold shower might douse these infernal contemplations. My fingers were poised over the "cancel" button. "You'd be able to fuck her too, you know?" whispered Gary. In that instant, my soul took its leave, my resistance crumbled, and my fate sealed for all eternity. Gulping another mouthful of scotch and just this side of losing it, I said to him, "How's that? She'd recognize me." "Not blindfolded she wouldn't," he replied. Sounded like he did this for a living! "After she's been raped stupid by three of us," he muttered, "She wouldn't know her father from a Polar bear. Just have to keep your mouth shut." "Jesus Christ Gary, I dunno," I said. "It's a hell of a risk, and I don't want her hurt bad." "No probs Mike," he whispered, "The three of us would go easy on her. Just gonna strip her, have a play, and then fuck her gentle. Hell, you'll be there anyway - to make sure nuthin' goes overboard... right?" "Yeah, I guess," I replied with the limited conviction I was able to muster. Gary and I agreed to map out the final details sometime during the coming week. How I maintained a normal façade at home I have no idea. All I was thinking about 24/7 now was the imminent fate of my only daughter. Even as I was helping her with homework, I was seeing in my mind's eye, her complete sexual debasement, her young body being used and abused, and the incredible rush I was getting, visualizing the depravities to be wreaked upon her tiny five-foot-one frame even by her own father. Gary had worked out a deal with two friends of his (how hard would that have been?? "Hey you wanna help fuck a sixteen-year-old schoolgirl?") Whilst he himself was more than "anxious," let's say, to shag a young girl - let alone a virgin, he figured having a couple of other men along would inevitably spice-up proceedings, as well as limiting Stephanie's chances of escape. My role for the first half of the evening was to be passive, being one of "overseeing" rather than participating. The plan was reasonably simple.Picking a late Saturday afternoon and evening that my wife would be out of town – visiting her sick mother in Fresno as she did from time to time, I would arrange for Stephanie to go up to the nearby corner-store for me sometime close to dusk, knowing of course she would be snatched somewhere near the little park that she had to cross to get there. Simple enough task for three adult males with a large van. I would leave home just a few minutes later and drive to Gary's house where they would be taking her. With the rear door left open, I could gain access and take up my silent refereeing duties, as she would be blindfolded by then. It was agreed nothing would be done to her until I got there. After the "rape," I would leave first so that I would be home when they brought her back. When dropping her off by way of a fake "home-invasion," both hers and my own life would be threatened with termination should the Police be called. Be a cinch for me to dissuade her from risking that or even from telling her mom the next day. The embarrassment and pain would remain Steffi's and my little secret. The only half-risky part I figured was the "snatch" itself, but Gary assured me it was "no problem." "Can you pick me up at the bus terminus around eleven in the morning please, darling?" Anne had asked, as her ride turned up outside the front gate. "Sure, honey," I said, smiling at her and kissing her rather more passionately than usual. "Just don't know what's got into you these days?" she laughed. "Just as well you don't," I mused to myself, watching her head off to Julie's Trans-Am out the front. Still with a beautiful figure herself, I was reminded of the old line, "I hate to see you leave, but I love to watch you go!" Steffi waved to her mom, then hugged me. We went inside, it was still only mid-afternoon. "What would you like to do, sweetie?" I asked her, my mind a swirling mass of half-formed images and fully-formed guilt. How could I even contemplate doing what I had planned? My beautiful, innocent little daughter...who loved and trusted me so unquestioningly. "Could we go to the movies tonight, dad?" she asked effusively. "I'd really like to see Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets!" Jenni (her best friend in tenth grade) saw it last night and said it was sooooo good - way better than the first one." "Sure, sweetheart," I said. "We'll catch the 8 p.m. session straight after dinner if you want?" My heart lurched, knowing we would never make it there. She came across and hugged me. Fully unaware of just how arousing her young breasts were crushed then against my shirt, I had to back away swiftly before she felt my erection pressing into the front of her skirt. With my pulse-rate mildly skirting cardiac trauma, come 6:30 p.m., I asked Steffi if she would just pick up some milk and a fresh loaf of bread for me at 'Grasshopper's' (The nickname I'd bequeathed the corner store, as the Chinese proprietor looked remarkably like David Carradine's Kwai Chang Caine). "Of course, dad," she smiled. I gave her a few dollars, finding it hard not to visibly shake. "Sure you'll be OK, sweetie?" I said to her. "Hurry back before it gets dark, won't you?" She was gone. I watched her as she half-skipped out the front gate, so looking forward I knew, to the movie tonight. I would forever remember that image. Cute, youthful figure, her light green top tucked neatly into that rather short patterned skirt which zipped from her waist almost to the hem. Shining quite natural brown hair trailing off her shoulders as she ran. She still had around her neck that tiny heart-shaped pendant her mom had given her the previous Christmas, but otherwise had no great use for jewelry. Anyone walking towards her would have been struck by the perfection of her skin, her very pretty face that other than her clear blue eyes was highlighted by a full, rather sexy mouth and the cutest of little ears. Probably her greatest asset – a most dazzling smile. She was just so beautiful. Dear Jesus, it was done! I had consigned my innocent little baby to the hardest school out there - real life! Even at this late stage, I wanted to run after her and cut the thing dead in its tracks. "Fat chance, pervert," something whispered in my ear. "You made the bed, now she can lie in it!" My 'good' doppelganger took off, understandably wanting no part of the coming tragedy. All I could think about was Gary with his hand in her panties! Just five minutes later, I got behind the wheel of the car. They would have her now, restrained, terrified and alone. I was so damned hard! What am I saying? I was so damned! Arriving at Gary's place, I was perturbed to say the least, that his van was not yet there. Had it not gone according to plan? Had he lied to me after all? And were they perhaps 'trialing the goods' in some back-street? That I could not bear! At the very least, being in the same room as it was happening, I might afford her some degree of protection – even if she couldn't know it. I parked up the road a-ways and, walking to the house, let myself in at the back. Not two minutes later, much to my immense relief, I saw through the half-opened blinds upstairs, Gary's Transit swing into the driveway. I heard the auto-door begin its ascent. After a few moments, I heard a door downstairs open, and glancing down the stairwell, I saw Gary and another friend propelling Stephanie towards the staircase. The third man was close behind. My heart leapt. My poor little girl was crying and sobbing her eyes out. I could hear her pleading, "Please don't hurt me." They had her blindfolded and with her hands tied behind her back, presumably having removed some kind of gag, but quite obviously they hadn't done anything to her yet. Gary put his hands on her shoulder as she reached the base of the stairs. He told her to go on up. "Where are you taking me...what are you going to do with me?" she was half-crying. "You're not going to rape me are you?...Pleaassse..I want my dad..." she started sobbing again. One of the men laughed, and I had to suppress the urge to run down those stairs and re-arrange his face. Walking behind Stephanie, holding her arm as she ascended the stairs, Gary looked up and, seeing me looking down from the landing, gave me the thumbs up. I was partially comforted by the fact that he'd be coming to Hell with me. Reaching the main bedroom, Stephanie was forced inside the doorway. I could see her shivering with fear, knowing as she must, what would be coming. "Well, kid," said Gary, "What can I say? – You were just in the right place at the wrong time. We ain't gonna hurt you, just have us a little fun is all." Incredibly, Steffi wound her crying down to a few strangled sobs. It was as if she'd figured the odds, knew she could do nothing to stop what was coming, and was at least going to keep her dignity intact. "You are going to rape me, aren't you," she whispered, "This is a bedroom, isn't it?" One of the men stepped forward and gently fondled her breast. I almost creamed myself. "Don't," she said to him, turning away in an attempt to dislodge his hand. He simply groped her the other side. "Hot little tits, missy," he grunted. His name was Stewart... Stu to the other two. Not a big thinker, I would imagine. Gary motioned for him to stop. "Can you take this blindfold off, please, and untie my hands?" she asked hopefully. "Can't do, sweetie," said Gary. "Identification and all that, you know?" "I won't tell anyone," she pleaded. "I promise - not even my dad?" I wanted to reach out and hold her. "Yeah well, I can't take that risk, can I?" Gary replied. "What you can't see, you can't tell, kid." He suddenly moved in and allowed his hands to traverse her upper body, smoothing across her shoulders, down her back, across her hips and up between her breasts. She gasped at his touch. He leaned in and kissed her on the lips, which had her recoiling with disgust. "Never been kissed, eh, darling? Oh, this is gonna be a night of firsts for you." At that second, both the other men closed ranks around her, and I watched in abject fascination as they all began to feel her up as she stood there. Hands cupping her breasts, others feeling the concave perfection of her slim hips, sliding around to cup and rub her bottom. I was so hard I was losing my grip on reality. Steffi was gasping and crying again. "Please let me go, I'm only sixteen, still a virgin. Pleeaassse!" Her impassioned plea was heartrending, although ultimately futile. "See here, sweetness," Gary whispered to her as he continued fondling her breasts lewdly, "The boys here are kinda hot under the collar, if you know what I mean. Wouldn't be right to deny them just a little fun now we got you here, would it?" I heard her gasp, "H-how many of you are there?" she stuttered, still trying to squirm her way from under those unwanted fingers. Gary glanced across at me, as I stood over near the far wall. "Just the four of us, sweetie, you'll be OK, trust me." They had her with her legs up against the bed now, and it took but the least push to send her sprawling back on to the quilt. From where I stood even, I caught a glimpse of her hot little blue panties as she fell on her back. The other two men were openly feeling her breasts now and vocalizing their pleasure loudly. "God-damn, she's a hot one," Stu muttered, "I love small tits!" "Let's suck her," said his compatriot, thrusting one hand roughly down her top. I had to unzip myself quickly, before I suffered a compound fracture of an item that could well prove to be inoperable upon. Unable to pull her top off, with her hands tied as they were, the two of them simply tugged it up, exposing her flimsy little bra – a matching blue one.The very bra that I had frequently lusted over, wanting to slip my own fingers down as I stood behind her writing desk. "Nooooooooooooooo," she wailed as they roughly pushed it too, right up, completely exposing both her milky white breasts to the trio's gaze. I had to approach the bed for a clearer view. "What do you reckon, Jim?" said Gary, looking up at me, cleverly not using my real name. "Have a feel, my friend, she's one hot little piece of ass." I had to do it, and bending down, took a hold of her right breast, feeling it, cupping it and smoothing my hand across its center, experiencing the texture of that beautiful brown nipple that undoubtedly was showing signs of unforced arousal. I watched as Stu began to suck the other one as my daughter squirmed and wriggled in an agony of despair. She would have been able to feel all four sets of hands and lips on her, taking liberties she could barely comprehend. Right then, Gary moved it up to the next level, slipping a hand up her skirt and gently smoothing along her inner thigh, moving ever upwards. As he did so, her hemline was dragged higher until the lower left leg of her tight blue knickers was exposed. Steffi gasped with horror, realizing how open she must look. Oh God! And how did she look? As all three of them fumbled with the zip, pulling her skirt right up now, fully exposing her panties, she cried out, "Don't do this... please!!" Stu leaned forward and it looked to me like he kissed her hard on the pussy. She let out a real yelp of shock and wriggled, which achieved no more than making her look more vulnerable and sexy than ever. "Let's spank her," suggested Stu. Gary looked across at me – I shook my head and he responded in like fashion to his friend. We definitely weren't getting into that area, besides, with what else was obviously planned, that's the last thing she needed. But dear God, just for a few seconds, lying there on her tummy where they had rolled her, tied like that, blindfolded and with her hot little knickers begging to be paddled, it was touch and go. Obviously Steffi's vulnerability was too much for Gary. I watched as he just slipped a hand up between her legs and began rubbing her pussy through her panties with frenzied deliberation. "Don't... don't do that - please," she tried to draw her knees up to limit access to the front of her knickers. Those whimpers were heartbreaking had it not been for the sheer spectacle of seeing an innocent little girl being sexually abused quite openly. "Hold her legs for me," said Gary. "Let's have some fun with her." Pulling her once more on to her back, the two men took a hold of her legs - a hand each under one knee and forced her legs wide apart. Even as she was sobbing "Noooooooooooooo!" plaintively, I dropped a hand to my own erection, watching dry-mouthed as Gary slipped a hand up inside the leg of her panties and found what he was looking for. Her restrainers were amusing themselves meanwhile feeling her breasts and rubbing her nipples – fully exposed as they were. "God, she's hot and tight," he muttered, one finger obviously having penetrated her vaginal cavity. Steffi was shaking her pretty head as if in denial of what was happening to her. I couldn't however wrench my gaze away from her splayed legs and Gary's hand performing unspeakably crude things beneath her panties. "Let's see her pussy," said Stu, continuing to rub her left nipple between his thumb and forefinger. "She's getting really hard here now." He added, inclining his head towards her breasts and indeed I could see that her nipples were quite distended – a fully automated response to the stimulation they were receiving, unwanted or not. Pushing her legs together just long enough for Gary to tug her knickers down and pull one leg clear of them, she gasped and wriggled with fear and embarrassment at having her young genitals exposed in such vulnerable a position. Stu whistled his delight at the scene before him while the other man simply muttered, "Jesus, what a hot little cunt," to no-one in particular. A "hot little cunt" it was too! I could but stare at, what for so long I had simply imagined! - my daughter's virginal and currently somewhat moist-looking slit. Displayed before us in all its colorful and inviting glory, not a man born could look upon the sight without experiencing erectus supremus. So hot was she lying there like that. Softly curved hips, wonderfully flat and smooth tummy blending-in with those cute light-brown curls framing her hitherto protected labia that Gary now was separating so carefully with his fingers, while she cringed and shook her head in shame and horror. Her knickers, hanging loose off her left ankle completed the picture of abject debasement, her own personal flag. Not so much at half-mast as bearing witness to the death of their young owner's innocence. Gary's instructions of "Hold her legs wide now," signaled the end of tease and the onset of a new life for Stephanie. I could feel the flames of Hell being stoked for me even then – a burning ember to be conflagrated for eternity. Stephanie's agony would be short – mine, unending! The rape could have been worse! Maybe because I was there..perhaps because he did have some remnants of compassion himself, but Gary took his time. Despite her tears and quivers of disbelief that this could be happening to her, her pussy was obviously far from dry and even as Gary slipped his erection in the first inch or so, he let out a cry of "God, she is sooo tight," as he cupped her bottom and held her up marginally. I had to ease the burning lust between my own legs and began stroking myself as I watched him sink it further in. Steffi was sobbing loudly and pleading with him not to rape her and that she could get pregnant. That was something I hadn't been thinking of, but her very words of warning just upped the ante. The thought of watching her get pregnant simply added fuel to the furnace despite the obviously damning consequences. Her cries of "Ohhh, that hurts! Please stop," signified that Gary had reached her hymen. Momentarily, he pulled back. Stunned, I noticed a considerable amount of glistening moisture trickle out of her pussy and down her leg. She must have been highly lubricated despite the circumstances. "It will be very quick, sweetie," he said and thrust into her. Before they could get a hand over her mouth, Steffi screamed. It was a scream of pain, shock, lost innocence and God-knows what else. Withdrawing temporarily, we could all see the red-tinged rivulets trickle out of her, staining with the mark of Cain, Gary's virginal-challenging intruder. He was in her now and although not raping her with insensitive cervical thrusts, was running his own little gamut of repressed sexual release. Still crying, but otherwise just lying there, Steffi presented a figure of resigned defeat as she allowed his lust to run its course. The other two were muttering obscenities watching the rape as Gary turned into the home straight. For myself, I was but milliseconds from finalizing my own little sexual contract, yet wanting to save the entire warehoused stock for the main delivery – that for which I had agreed to this diabolical tryst. I let go of my erection, breathing stertorously. "Fuck me, I'm going to fill her cunt," Gary announced, before pulsing into her for fully ten seconds. I wish I had been able to see Steffi's eyes right at that moment – it would almost have been worth the twenty years hard labor. He pulled out and I saw a thin stream of viscous white fluid seep out of her pussy. Having let go of her legs, Steffi closed them and half-turned on her side moaning and sobbing. Her breasts wobbled slightly and presented an unimaginably arousing sight, her nipples very erect and her cleavage well delineated at that angle. Her rest-period was short-lived. Stu pulled her now to the edge of the bed as the other two again held her legs bent at the knee and spread wide for easy access. He pushed his cock hard into her and she grunted with surprise. I felt pre-cum trickling down my own leg as Stu fucked Steffi with plenty of zest. Her breasts were vibrating with each thrust and her head being tossed from side to side as he worked to slake the lust he had built up most likely watching Gary fuck her. Again she just lay there, letting this thing of evil roll over her. I did notice I thought, the slightest quiver of her own hips as he neared the red line. "You are such a fucking hot little tease," Stu announced as he neared full countdown. Grabbing her around the hips, he leant forward and began sucking her right nipple while still taking her so deep. They had her legs incredibly spread now and to see cum actually running out of her as she was being raped stupid was just beyond white-heat. He came in her with the inertia of a road-train and I noticed that even when they let go of her legs, she made no immediate attempt to close them. Both Stu and Steffi were breathless. Again, she turned on her side and just lay there moaning quietly. Her arms must have been aching incredibly. By the time the third guy was half-way through fucking her, there could be no doubt she was responding...if not unwillingly. I could see her hips moving upwards to accommodate his thrusts and her moaning did not necessarily appear to reflect her total dislike of what was happening. I could be wrong. "Well, Jim," Gary was saying, "Want to wrap this up now? You want to fuck her?" Not being able to speak obviously, I intimated for two of them to hold her legs. This, after all this time was my moment. I was finally getting to fuck my sexy little daughter and how hot must that by necessity appear to the other three? I looked down at her...At the exposed nipples – still majorly erect, her ravaged pussy pulsing out waves of white goo as I watched, and that inviting slit not a foot away from the biggest damn erection I ever had. Slipping it in to her was as easy as passing a hot needle through butter. I so wanted to kiss her, tell her it was me, hold her and make love to her. It was, though, far too late for any romantic notions. Time simply to fuck her silly! Grabbing her hips, I somehow locked on to that median line between full-on rape and passionate affection. I think she sensed something. Not that it was me – but that it was somehow quite different from the other three. Probably having a need to tend their own out-of-control urges, both Gary and Stu relinquished their grasp on her legs. Amazingly, she made no attempt to close them, simply lying there as I fucked her in a frenzy of incestuous lust. Even as I reached the zenith of my forbidden coupling, I became aware of the other three kneeling over Steffi and wanking white streams across her face, her nipples, and her lower abdomen. It triggered my own delivery mechanism, and I would be prepared to swear that as I pumped into her a world-record amount of semen, I felt her cum also. Maybe wishful thinking on my part – I'll never know. Amidst the ensuing silence, the four of us just stood or knelt there, watching Steffi wriggle slowly on the bed and moan abstractly. Glistening cum ran down between her breasts as well as trickling down her cheek. I'm not even sure she noticed. She half sat-up and pleaded with her captors, "Please, don't rape me anymore. I'm just so sore and my arms are hurting." I went over to her, pulled her bra back down to cover her breasts, and then tugged her knickers back up. Even then, cum was squelching out of her, soaking the front of the thin blue cotton. She would be needing one hell of a shower when she got home. Gary nodded to me to be off, and I silently took my leave, trembling now with the full realization of what I had orchestrated. The few moments of intense sexual nirvana had come at a dreadful price. I had been home less than a quarter of an hour when there was a commotion at the front door. Opening it, I was confronted by Gary. "We're just parked around the corner," he said. "I've told your daughter you'll be killed if either of you make any attempt to involve the Police. Open your garage up now so we can drive in and unload her, OK?" He winked at me. "God, she was fucking hot, wasn't she?" I nodded blankly. Backing the Transit in, they bundled Steffi, still blindfolded and tied, out the back and into my arms. She started to sob uncontrollably. "Don't even think about untying her or removing the blindfold till we're down the street," said Gary, "You know what will happen!" He climbed back into the van, and it rolled out of the driveway. Even as the roller-door descended, I untied her wrists and removed her blindfold. Her little face, stained equally by cum and tears, looked up at me. "What the hell happened to you, sweetheart?" I had no trouble letting my own tears flow. "What have they done with you? How did this happen?" "I'm OK, dad," she replied, shaking and clinging to me. "Did they...? Did they er, do anything to you sexually, Stephanie?" She just broke down, "Oh, dad, I'm so sorry." Her tears were compounded by choking emotion. "They didn't... rape you, did they?!" I think I was convincing. Memories of the event flooding back in wide-screen full surround sound. She nodded. "Oh, my God, Steph, we have to call the Police!" I said to her, applying a touch of reverse psychology. "No, dad, you mustn't. They told me what will happen if you do that." She was rubbing her wrists now, trying to restore some proper blood flow, I imagine. "Yeah, well, they threatened me too, honey, but we must report this," I responded. "Look, dad, it's done now... I'm just so sorry I've let you down." The tears flowed again with a vengeance. My own too. "Oh, my beautiful girl," I said to her, "Do you think I blame you for this? What happened, though? How did you end up with them?" She told me everything. About being kidnapped, tied-up and blindfolded, taken to a house and being raped by several men. I held her to me while she talked, and I responded as one would expect a stricken father to respond under such circumstances. "What if I'm pregnant, dad?" she blurted out suddenly. "Well, sweetheart," I told her, "That's a bridge we will cross if and when we have to. Let's not worry ourselves prematurely, huh?" I managed to smile at her reassuringly. As one might surmise, more than anything else, she wanted a long hot shower. I kissed her, told her how much I loved her, and suggested she go wash away the memories of her recent encounter. "What do you mean, dad?" she asked. "Well, sweetheart, I just mean that having been raped by four men, you could probably do with a hot shower..." I heard the sudden intake of breath... "How did you know there were FOUR of them, dad?"	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/38/oneway.txt
69,795	Boris Ludmemkov	A Reasonable Man	You'll have heard of me, of course. You've seen me on the cover of magazines that nominated me as the Greatest Human Being of the Century (and stuff like that). But you won't (I hope) know what I'm going to tell you now. I intend to keep this quiet until I am nicely dead and all the praises have been sung to the man who gave the world the Fountain of Youth and Health. I'm not planning to die for a long while yet either. But you never know, even with the medical miracles I've wrought with the Nano Revolution. I could still die in a plane or car crash or run up against some disease my clever little machines can't fix. So I'm writing this down to let the world know (when I'm safely gone) who and what I really was. I don't think that what I've done is very evil. Perhaps a little. But I've done so much good (for the world as well as for myself) that I feel that I'm due a little, let us say, self-indulgence in exchange. I can keep my private life out of the papers (even media barons won't upset the man who can give them centuries more of life and youth) and when I'm gone I won't care what the historians say about the contrast between Mankind's Benefactor and the private face my... little hobby reveals. I was at my desk dictating to my private secretary when the direct line phone rang. "Adams." "Sir, this is Jessica down in Main Processing. I have a Code Red for you." I felt myself tense. Not with fear: with anticipation. Despite the alarming sounding name, a Code Red means that one of my personal targets has come in. A subject I had ordered investigated and then drawn into my net. If she had said 'Code Blue' it would have meant a subject she thought I might be interested in collecting. Jessica herself had been a Code Blue once. I had gone down to look her over, ordered a background investigation to ensure that she would not be missed and then had her processed. But a Code Red was intentional. A Code Red was personal. Always. "The name, Jessica?" "Jenny Barkworth, Sir. Born Jenny Davies." I felt my face split into a very nasty grin indeed. Jenny. At last. "Where have you put her?" "Consulting room 7, Sir. Doctor Harmsworth is with her now." "Good. Alert the tag team to go on standby for when she leaves. I want her followed from now until she's ready." "Sir." I hung up and turned to my secretary. Sugar was a Code Red too: one of the earliest ones. Not her original name: nor her original body. Now she was a lovely black woman with lips that could suck the juice out of a man and frequently did. Then he had been my business partner. But that's another story. "Leave that for now, Sugar and fetch me the Jenny Davies file." "Yes, sir." She rose and went to the walk-in safe only she and I can open. I turned to the television monitor by my desk and tuned it to give a view of Consulting Room 7. Jenny was laying on one of the scanning decks, listening to Old Harmsworth give her the standard spiel. She was still lovely. Although it had been twenty years since we last met. Twenty years. Long enough for me to change from the pudgy, bespectacled nerd that Jenny Davies had laughed at (in front of everyone!) to the Nobel Prize winning scientist. Long enough for me to create the NanoDoc and make a fortune bringing health, beauty and long, long life to whoever can afford the not unreasonable price I put on them. Long enough for Jenny to marry her rugby-player (what was his name?) grow bored with him, divorce him and start a career for herself as a journalist. But not long enough for me to forget. Or to forgive. I watched as Dr Harmsworth went through the routine questions, enter the data into the computers and wait for the dispenser to create the NanoDocs needed for the first treatment. I reached over to my terminal and entered some codes. I had the data already prepared on how I wanted Jenny treated. Or rather transformed. I listened to Old Harmsworth reassuring her and her chatting back, telling him that she hadn't planned to get treatment just yet but there had been a special offer (a very special offer, had she but known, special to a few special ladies) and she had decided... And then the dispenser beeped to say it was ready and Old Doc Harmsworth administered what he thought was the first of a routine set of treatments to hold off aging, illness and other physical problems ("Now you may feel a little strange over the next few days... It's just the little machines getting set up and ready... Come back next week and we'll see how they are doing.") The doctors just administer the nanos that the machines fabricate for them: and it is not uncommon for clients to see a different doctor at each appointment. No-one notices if a few clients don't return for their second appointments. I watched her dress and leave and found that I had grown quite hard thinking about what she would be experiencing over the next few days. I signalled to Sugar and she knelt before me and undid the sash of my silk dressing gown. Hungrily, she brought her talented mouth to my sex. Absently, I patted her head, like the trained pet she was, thinking of Jenny, mine at last. She began to notice the changes the day after her visit to NanoHealth. At first it was just an unusually healthy appetite: she had an extra helping of dessert in the canteen and during the afternoon kept nipping to the snack machine for munchies. The office jester joked she must be 'eating for two' and she felt vaguely guilty about calories. That night she slept unusually deeply and her dreams were vivid and disturbing, although she couldn't hold on to them as the alarm woke her. For a few moments she lay in bed, lazing, trying to recapture the bright images that had seemed so important a moment before. A memory of school... Had she been having the old 'back in school again' nightmare? Then in the shower, she felt a tingling, an energy in her skin that was strange but not unpleasant. When she dressed for work her clothes felt strange on her and she thought for a moment of wearing something lighter, less formal. She let the thought slip from her mind. Then at her desk, her attention kept slipping away from the stories she was writing and the background stuff she was reading. Her mind went... somewhere else and when she tried to concentrate she found she was developing a headache. That night, her dreams were disturbed again. She was in school and found herself in front of the class. Miss Burton, the biology teacher was using her for a sex education lesson. She invited a boy up (what was his name? the one they said was so clever: he kept looking at her during classes: what was his name?) and told him to feel how Jenny grew excited when he touched her breasts, when he touched her lower lips, when his finger slipped deep inside her... She tried to speak but could not. She tried to move, to cry out... And she awoke to find her hands at her breasts, at her cunt. She was moist and excited and her bed sheets were swimming with her sweat. Almost without willing it she brought herself to a climax and then lay there for a long while trying to recapture the dream, while her skin cooled in the night air. In the morning, the tingling in her skin was stronger still and as she dried herself from her shower she looked in the mirror. Her breasts seemed especially full today, her nipples were erect and seemed longer, thicker than they normally were. She stood for a long time, watching herself, moving the towel across her skin, feeling good, feeling strange. That day she chose to yield to her impulse of the previous day and wear a dress, summery and not quite suitable to the September day. Her editor, old Mr. Radcliffe, complemented her on it and she found herself actually blushing and then thanking him with a stammer in her voice. He was a balding, harmless, middle-aged man. And yet when he complimented her, she felt a hot rush in her blood and a giddiness in her head. At lunchtime she ate heartily again and then in the afternoon she found her bra had grown uncomfortable. It felt too tight. She went to the ladies to remove it and saw herself again in the mirror. Her breasts were definitely fuller. For the rest of the afternoon she felt her nipples erect against the fabric of her dress, sending shivers through her at each movement. ("Now you may feel a little strange over the next few days... It's just the little machines getting set up and ready...") Then when it came time for her to go home she stepped into the lift headed for the ground floor, crowded with people heading for their cars and trains.And then suddenly this short journey, one that she had taken a thousand times before, changed its meaning completely, and she felt the pressure of the bodies of the men around her, the scent of them swimming in her head. She was uncomfortably aware of the size of them, their bulk towering over her, unaware of her. She felt insignificant, unworthy, small, and helpless. And aroused. She felt her lower lips moisten, and it seemed to her that the smell of her arousal must be filling the cramped space. But when they reached the ground floor, the crowd poured out, and she stood in the corridor, leaning against the wall and trying to catch her breath. The journey home on the Tube was worse. There was no place for her to sit, and she felt herself crowded against the bodies of the other strap-hangers. One young man, wearing a leather jacket whose rich organic scent filled her nostrils, kept her pressed up against a partition for three stops. She fought down the urge that filled up her mind, to push herself forward and press her body against his, to rub her nipples, so hard, so achingly hard, against his jacket. When she got home, she tried to ring the Institute but was told that her doctor was away at a conference but would be back on Monday. She thought about insisting on speaking to someone else but hesitated, and then the man at the other end rang off. She couldn't bring herself to ring back. That evening, she sat around in her silk dressing gown, feeling the heat in her body. She tried to work at her word processor but found she couldn't concentrate. She tried watching the television but found herself losing the plot of even the simplest sitcoms. She went to bed early but could not sleep for a long time. The cool sheets felt wonderful against her skin. In her dreams, she was back on the tube again. Except she was naked, and when she went to the seated man in the leather jacket, he wouldn't give up his seat but let her sit on his lap, where he played with her breasts and pussy. Then he passed her along the rows of seated commuters who used her too until she ended up on the lap of a man (she knew him: she had seen him: they had been at school together) who opened his fly and brought her mouth to his erection. She awoke with the taste of cum still on her lips and sweat once again soaking her bedding. She changed the sheets, but it was a long, long time before she found sleep again. The next morning, she looked at herself in the long mirror in the front of her wardrobe. Fresh from the shower, her hair looked lighter, shot through with golden tones. Her breasts were noticeably larger, and her nipples longer, thicker. It looked to her as though her clitoris was enlarging too: it peeped out from behind its hood. Her skin was more golden in color, and imperfections such as freckles and spots had vanished overnight. Her eyes seemed wider, and her lips fuller, pouting. She could not face the office. Her head ached at the thought of sitting and reading, writing. She rang, having some difficulty recalling the number, and told them she was sick, nothing serious. She would be in on Monday. Perhaps. She could not bear the touch of even her finest undergarments. Her skin was burning with the change. She put on her lightest summery frock and went out to the supermarket for supplies for the weekend. She knew that what was happening to her was odd. But she felt so good, so alive. A part of her mind felt concern, but she could not say about what. As she walked around the supermarket, she could feel the eyes of the young men who stocked the shelves on her, and she walked with a sway in her hips for them. One of them carried her bags to her car, and she smiled at him. She felt herself flush as he smiled back and had to sit at the wheel, letting her blood stop racing for five minutes before pulling away. Back in her flat, she put her purchases away and then gorged herself on sandwiches filled with every strange pickle, cheese, and meat she could find in her fridge. The thought of pregnant women craving for strange foods crossed her mind, and she went again to the bathroom and pulled her dress off and stood examining herself in the mirror. She wondered what it would feel like to have her breasts swell with milk, to feel a baby's mouth sucking its nourishment from her. She cupped her breasts and felt them heavy in her hands. She bent to see if she could get her nipple in her mouth. Not quite. She leaned back and stood with her legs apart. Her clitoris too was notably longer and thicker, peeking out continually from between her pussy lips. She touched it and felt the electric shock of passion run through her. She watched herself in the mirror as she masturbated, her jaw slack, her eyes unfocused as she brought herself again and again to explosive climaxes. That night, she could not sleep at all. She had spent the afternoon just lying on the balcony, screened from the sight of her neighbors by some hastily rigged sheets, quite naked to the touch of the early autumn sun. As the breezes had caressed her body, she felt that heat and that tingling within her and knew that she was changing. Becoming something new. Someone new. Near two a.m., she could stand lying waiting for sleep no longer and got up from her bed and dressed, again in her light summer dress. She did not feel the cold of the night, the heat from her body filling her with the warmth of hotter days. She put on her shoes and her hat and went walking. The streets were deserted in the suburban areas, and she walked and walked, not paying any attention to where she was going until she found herself on a main road and heard the sound of music, loud and throbbing. There was a club, still punching out music in the small hours, and outside, knots of young people talking, drinking, shouting. She felt herself drawn forward and walked past them. She could feel the eyes of the young men on her. She passed a group of young men all wearing leather jackets, like the jacket that had so fascinated her on the tube. They stared at her as she came up. And then she knew what she had been looking for, what she had walked so far to find. "You. And you. And you." She pointed at them and then walked to the opening of an alley beside the club. There was an old sofa there, and she took off her dress, lay it down over the battered leather, and then lay herself down on top of the dress. The three boys she had chosen had come around the corner and stood at the end of the alley looking down at her as if they could not believe their luck. One was black, one was Indian, and one was a pudgy white boy with greased-down red hair. Behind them, a group of wondering faces stared at her. "Well, boys? Do you have to be shown what to do?" Grinning nervously, afraid to be shown inadequate in front of their friends, they came towards her. The smell of the leather mingling with their sweat, with the stale lager they had drunk too much of, with the smell of cigarettes from the black one, with the nameless smells of the alleyway. She reached for the first one to come to her, the Indian boy, and wordlessly undid the belt of his jeans. He tried to pull back, but she pulled his face to hers and with the other hand pulled down the denim that sheathed him. A long, thin brown cock flopped out, and she took her mouth down from the kiss, half-completed, and down to it. The slight scent of urine as she pulled back the foreskin and brought the pink tip into her mouth. Hands on her breasts, holding them clumsily from behind her. She looks down and sees the white boy's hands ineptly fingering her nipples. And between her legs, with a shock, she sees the black boy, a knowing grin on his face, bring his thick, cunning lips to her lower lips. The thought crosses her mind: "He's done this before..." And he has. Like a gourmet eating a fine meal, he tastes her, sups from her, draws the deep juices and the heat from her. All around her, she becomes aware of a circle of boys, standing, watching as the three chosen ones explore her. They watch, fascinated and jealous, some of them playing with themselves. She only speaks once, when the white boy, having shucked his trousers, moves to take off his jacket. "No, don't. Keep it on." Together, they move through all the combinations that three men and one woman can take up. The black boy, more experienced, becomes the director of their little drama. She takes him, from behind, doggy style, as she sucks and wanks the other two. He isn't as long as the Indian boy, but thick and hard inside her. The white boy comes first, spraying her face with his come as he loses control. The Indian boy came in her mouth, and she sucked up the cream of him, as eager as she had been for pickles and sour milk earlier on in her transformation. The black boy filled her cunt, bringing her to a screaming climax as heat, volcanic lava heat, flows into and out of her. And then it is over. There is a moment's silence. A boy sobs. With shame, with regret? And as the black boy stands up, the watching crowd starts to move forward. Some have come already with watching her. But some are still eager and want to finish what has been started. "No, wait..." It sounds silly in her ears. Who is she to say no? How can she stop them? And then a man's voice from the end of the alley. "Alright, what's all this then?" Boys scattering everywhere. Somehow, she manages to stand, although her legs are weak, and she is sore between them, stand and pull her dress over her head, find her shoes, and run out into the street. There is a taxi with its motor running. She piles in and manages to remember her address. When she gets home, she sleeps soundly at last.The voice of the 'policeman' was one of them, using his judgment when it looked as if things might turn ugly. The taxi was one of ours too. Later, I let her serve the entire team one evening. They deserved it. She awoke only briefly during the whole of Saturday. She staggered to the bathroom, then to the kitchen where she downed milk by the pint, letting the cold liquid trickle down her front when it spilled. She gorged herself on food, not bothering to cook anything but just grabbing fistfuls of cheese and sliced meat from the fridge, chomping on apples and pears. Then back to bed, to a deep dreamless sleep. She awoke early on Sunday morning and turned drowsily in the nest of sweaty bedclothes to the sound of a songbird in the square outside. She got up and retrieved the paper from the mat but found that the words no longer made sense to her. However hard she tried, she could not squeeze any meaning from the letters, could not get them to form into intelligible phrases. Somehow at that moment, she knew that she could no longer read. Overnight, she had become... dyslexic. That was the word. Funny, that she could remember the word but not how to read or write it. Funnier still, that it did not disturb her. She let the paper fall unread in the hall and went to the bathroom. The mirror confirmed to her that she had changed still more. Her hair was now golden, and her face had changed to that of a woman who wanted one thing from men and wanted it all the time. Her skin had an olive tan, and her body was firm and muscular without her having done anything to earn it. Her new breasts were both huge and firm, and she could lift them so that the enlarged, very sensitive nipple could be brought to her mouth. This she did, first one and then the other, reveling in the sensations the touch brought. Again, she stood before the mirror and brought herself to the first climax of the day. Later, in a hot bath, she pleasured herself again and again. She went out and walked in the park. She watched the men as they watched her and knew that she could have any one of them she chose with a smile and a wink. But they did not attract her. She felt she was waiting, watching, searching, for one man. For something, someone special. She had lunch at the cafe in the park. Her appetite for food had returned to something like normal. But when she came to pay, she found she could not work out how to make up the sum needed. She had lost more than the ability to read: she could no longer do simple arithmetic. Some part of her mind worried about this, but most of her could not care. It wasn't important. She smiled at the waiter and held out the contents of her purse for him to take the needed cash. When she got back to her flat, there was a parcel on the doorstep. Tied up with a big bow. She took it in and opened it. Inside was a steel collar. In bright, stainless steel segments with a locking mechanism that seemed to make no allowance for taking it off again. She took it out of the box and held it in her hands for a moment. There was writing on it, but she no longer bothered about such things. She put it around her neck and with trembling hands pushed the two parts of the lock together. It clicked shut, and she went and looked at it in the mirror. After a few moments, she took off her dress and posed naked before the mirror. She liked how she looked. She wanted only one thing now. She went and had a shower and then lay on her balcony, waiting for the thing to make her complete. She knew he would not be long in coming. The door opens gently as He comes to claim her, but she does not miss the sound of her destiny coming. She runs from her balcony and falls to her knees in the hallway, just as she had practiced it in the mirror. She looks up at Him and knows Who has made her this way and why.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/50/areason.txt
69,962	LPear	Inside Out	You know it's that time of year when you get all the copper-bearing bottom paint, the power sander, rollers, extensions, and tape and head down to your sailboat for three days to redo the bottom in preparation for re-launching it for the current sailing season. Old clothes, a tall ladder to get up into the boat with, and the pleasure of a shower each day after the mess is over with until the next when it's dry and you can put the last coat on. It's 75 miles each way to where the boat is slipped or kept out on land for the winter, so I usually go down and sleep on the boat a couple of nights and use the marina's heated showers and bathroom. The television works, and there's a heater when I hook the boat up to the yard's electric power, just like it was in its slip and hooked up to 120-volt shore power. Lots of meals at the local restaurant, a couple of extra blankets aboard, and a certain amount of satisfaction when you're done. This year looked to me to be a pretty easy year, and when I left, I told my wife Sarah that I wouldn't be more than three days, but if I could do it in two, I'd use the cell phone and call to let her know I'd be home earlier. We've been married a while, and a few days away never hurt anything with her work schedule and mine. I miss her and all her freckles and softness, but it always is nice when I get home too. This year, everything went right. The weather cooperated, the ablative coating was thin enough to need only minimal sanding, and by 4 o'clock on Sunday, I was done. I decided to go to the showers, get cleaned up, and head home and surprise Sarah. Wouldn't be much of a surprise if I called her, so I didn't. I did stop to buy her a pot full of blooming daffodils that had been forced over the winter, and sat it on the car's front seat while I hummed my way homeward, expecting to surprise Sarah. The car glided around the last bend and up our driveway while I relaxed, happy to finally be home with the task done for another year. The porch light was on, and there was a bicycle in the driveway, which wasn't ours, which was unusual at 7:30 on a dark Sunday evening. I walked around the bike and thought that it looked almost like Edward Offeou's, the husband of a Nigerian couple who lived in a 6,000 square foot home three doors from ours. Curious thing, but we all were friends or at least nodding acquaintances. It was my habit to walk back to the garden and check on the plants before I went in, and I followed my habit that night as well. The garden was fine, and I turned back towards the house to close the car and go in and say hello when I noticed my master bedroom lights were on, and the shades were partially open. You could see in easily because of the low light inside, but no one could see out, so I detoured over there to see what it looked like since I'd never been outside like that before. The sidewalk was just next to the two bedroom windows, and I stopped when I got to it and carefully looked in. To say I was surprised would be putting it mildly. As far as I knew, she had never cheated, and neither had I, but when I looked in, I was completely shocked to see the dark black skin of Edward on his back laid across the cream-colored sheets of our king-sized bed. Next to him was my very naked wife Sarah on hands and knees with her eyes focused on Edward's groin where his enormous erection was waving and standing firm. Her breasts hung down, brushing back and forth over his thighs, and her stomach sagged below the dark bush between her parted legs, which were moving in little, regular movements. My heart stopped, and my breathing staggered while I attempted to take it all in. At first, I couldn't and wouldn't believe it. During the time I was coming to grasp with the reality of what I saw, Sarah reached out and put one hand at the base of his stomach and curled her slim fingers and palm around his cock down at the base in his curly hair, then pulled the skin upwards while she watched with parted lips and obvious lust. Her naked knees were apart, and she was almost panting. Her butt was totally exposed and obviously ready. I'd never seen her from an angle like this while we had sex. It was damned exciting in a perverse sort of way and had me stopped cold, not even worrying about the fact that it was my wife I was watching. I was surprised at all of it but did nothing to stop it. As I stood, they continued, passion totally controlling them. As her curled hand pulled the skin upwards, it slid over the helmeted head of his huge cock and hid it beneath the rich black skin, showing only the outline, which she dripped one drop of spit on. Obviously, he had an uncircumcised and very large cock. I wasn't small or average, maybe above average, but this was enough to get any woman who got this far excited enough to go the rest of the way. The contrast with his dark skin on the sheets and my wife's fair skin was a tableau that just never occurred any other way and kept me speechless and motionless. I ought to have run in and shot the bastard or maybe both of them, but I didn't. Instead, I just stood there doing something I'd never done before... I watched. Edward, on the other hand, was very involved and tensed the muscles of his butt, which pushed his cockhead towards her face as he reached out for one of her swinging breasts and held her nipple between his fingers and thumb and pulled as her hand pulled the skin back down the shaft to reveal the pinkish color head of his cock with its wet little drip of clear lubricant which oozed out of the slit at the top. It was too much for Sarah, who swallowed it with one gulp, obviously wrapping her tongue around the shaft, laving it with spit and passion. Her other hand found his balls and lifted them from the sheets, rolled them in her palm. As she did, she started bucking her hips, which were now facing me. Her bottom was open, and her vagina swollen and rounded on both sides with moisture lacing the long joint where her lips came together undulating down its length. As I watched, her hips stopped, jiggled, then started to move rhythmically until she took her mouth off his cock and said something I couldn't hear to Edward. It was all he needed as he hoisted her up, then helped her straddle his legs with hers, putting her pussy right over the head of his cock. She reached down as they kissed and guided the head against her vagina lips. No more than one rub up and one part way down, and she slammed her hips over it and forced it inside her with one powerful and needy shove. They stroked like that five or six times until her stomach muscles coiled and ground, started that squeezing inside which meant she was going to cum. When she did, she pushed her hips down as he pulled until Edward's cock was inside her all the way to the curly hair at the base, expanding her width and making her head tip back and cry out as she came. Her splatter came oozing out past her pussy lips, which sealed imperfectly now against Edward's wide cock and ran down his balls as she came and came in pulse after pulse until he couldn't help himself and thrust the big cock upward, carrying her entire body with it as he came. It was too much. My cock was hard as a rock, and I wanted to kill both of them or watch forever. It was hard to tell which, and hard to tell what to do next. Somehow, barging in didn't seem to be the thing to do any longer, so I went back to the car, started it, and left the driveway to drive around the block and cool off for ten or fifteen minutes. When I was cooler, I decided that the cell phone might be the first thing for me to do and see what she would do when I called and said I was ten minutes away. I dialed, and it rang three times before she picked it up. It was very quiet on her end when I told her I'd finished early and had a flower for her in ten minutes when I'd be home. She was valiant, hardly did more than skip a quick breath as she told me she'd be taking a shower when I got there and would be right out. I hung up, looked at my watch, and waited ten minutes. In five, Edward came out with his underwear wadded into a pocket, grabbed his bike, and rode out of our driveway and over to his house. In ten, I pulled in the driveway and took the flowers and my sailing stuff inside and put the painting stuff away before saying hello into the master bathroom. It was always nice to see a freshly made bed and a clean wife after being gone two days. There was a new room deodorant spray smell in the room, which was pleasant but doubtless covered up the musky smell of sex. Somehow, I managed a hello and revealed nothing.Sarah finished her shower and must have been the greatest actress ever to join me and act like absolutely nothing had happened other than red skin and wide eyes, presumably from her shower. I suppose I was hurt, but at the same time, I had been wildly excited and knew that in the cosmic calculus, she "owed" me one. It would be one I'd never taken, and I kind of liked the idea that I could do the same and be guilt-free. Maybe after I had, I would bring it all up, and we could be balanced again. Time would tell as we spent the evening as we always did before bed. In bed, she was unreal, sucked my cock and fucked me like there was no tomorrow, even sliding her ass over it, which was usually only a birthday treat. This wasn't all bad, and I was the only one who knew that I knew! By Monday, I was back in the groove, and we returned to work, her at hers and me at mine. Nothing happened while we were around each other constantly, and two weeks passed with me wondering when I ought to see about getting my little guilt-free affair in. The truth is, I had no clue. The problem took care of itself a week later. I work at home some days, and this Tuesday was one of those days. Sarah went in to work, and I worked all morning long in my studio. At noon, I took a break and went for a walk. I circled the development and returned past Edward's house. When I got near the garage, I could see his wife, Bahia, inside, agitated and upset. I said hello, and she only waved, which was unusual, so I walked up the drive to see if I could help. Well, when I got there, I could see she had been crying. I didn't need to say anything because she stopped with a decisive nod of her head to herself and motioned me over into the garage. "Bill, I'm glad you came over. Please come inside with me. There is something I have to talk about with you." I was pretty sure I knew that it was going to come out or already had about her Edward and my Sarah, and I hesitated. She reached out and touched my hand with hers, saying, "Come on, silly. I won't bite." She turned and walked the length of the garage in her soft dress as I followed her through it, then up the few steps into the house. When we were inside, she reached around for the garage opener and triggered it down. "We don't need stray pets in here. Come in. Can I get you a soft drink? A beer maybe?" Bahia was a very light-skinned black woman with perhaps a hint of European somewhere in her background. She was tall at 5' 10" and had a narrow waist with generous hips atop long and slender legs. Her neck was elegant, and her eyes piercing with soft, dark hair fashioned as much European as her African heritage. When she turned and asked me for the beer, I couldn't help but notice her breasts that swelled the top of her simple dress, obviously swinging freely without the benefit of a bra. If you were into counting size, I'd have to guess 44DD and full nipples. It was enough to get a reaction from my libido. She cut right to the chase. "You know about Edward and Sarah?" All I could do was take a sip and nod. "Was it just once?" She sniffled, firmed up, then said, "Yes, just once with Sarah." "How do you feel about it, Bahia?" "You know, I'm hurt, worried, all that. He's been in demand before, and I've had to find a way to live with it. Have you and Sarah talked about it too?" "No. In fact, she doesn't know I know. I got home early and happened to walk around back and see them through the window. I felt like a voyeur and waited until Edward left before I came in. Cowardly, I guess." "I've never watched anyone else do it. If you watched, you know why she had Edward, don't you?" He just nodded. "He's striking and," He paused here. "He's big, very big and very black." "Exactly. Well, I wouldn't hold it against her, she's not his first." She looked sideways and puzzled and asked, "By the way, why didn't you say something to her?" She looked curiously, waiting for an answer. He stumbled and fumbled for words at the directness of her question. "Well, I, ah, uh, I sort of figured it was part of the cosmic calculus." She pulled her head up, and her eyes regained their smile as she whipped the following towards him. "The what?" "I've never cheated, and I figure now I am owed one. After that, I was going to tell her and see where it lead." She laughed enough to shake the big breasts resting inside her cotton dress. "The cosmic calculus, eh. Has it worked out for you yet?" Explosively, he snorted. "Christ, Bahia, I haven't done anything. Nothing, zip, nada." Bahia's eyes flashed at him, and she put her elegantly long hand out, touching his knee. "Want to?" "With you?" She looked straight into his eyes and nodded before saying, "Now. It's time I got some of the cosmic calculus as well." Even more stunned than he had been the other night looking through the window, all he could think of was to repeat his question. "Now?" "Uh, huh." When the word left her lips, she winked, reached up, ripped the top of her dress open, and spilled the biggest breasts he'd ever seen out before his eyes and said, "Hold them. You wouldn't regret it." They swung from the middle of her chest out to the sides and back, heavy with flesh and firmness as she moved his hand to the bottom of her right breast and felt his hand cup her aureole and nipple; hold the weight of it in his hand. She looked down and parted her lips when she sighed with the feelings his touch sent through her body. "Hal, look at how white your hand looks against my skin? Isn't it wonderful?" He melted with one look around to be sure they were alone before nodding and moving his head closer to hers and feeling the heat of her lips which were without makeup but wide and somewhat thicker than Sarah's; sensual just by existing. Their lips touched, and she moved her legs apart but closer to him, shimmying and shaking to drop the dress from her hips, leaving her standing with swaying breasts and a pair of white high-cut panties. Her mouth opened, and his tongue went inside hers as she did the same to him. Below, her hand had coursed across his chest and unbuckled his belt and undone his pants, which dropped and caused him to step away, dressed only in his boxers. Bahia sucked on his tongue and pushed her other breast against him as her hand slid inside his shorts and found his balls at the bottom and cradled them before feeling upward and moving around his fully engaged cock. The touch was electric, and he pulled back from her lips approvingly. As he did so, she whispered in his ear, "This is only the second cock I've ever touched, Hal, but it's the second big one I've had, and I'm going to fuck you until your cosmic clock is cleaned out." Before he could even move, she dropped to her knees, tits sliding down his front and over his cock and sucked the head inside her mouth. He could see her lips sealing around it and feel the warmth of his head at the back of her throat as her tongue moved over and around his shaft, cushioning it, cradling it, heating it with her moisture. "No white woman could ever match the ability of her large tongue and lips to suck a cock," was the only thought that ran through his mind. Certainly Sarah hadn't been able to come close. He had died and gone to heaven as she held his balls and sucked his cock, inhaling in noisy, fast breaths. Over her back, he looked down the bumps of her spine to where her hips divided and could see the tips of her vaginal lips and hair as they glistened, swelled, and moved with her efforts. The more he watched, the more he wanted his cock inside her and later on top of her tits. She must have felt it and moved easily when he asked her, "Bahia, honey, I want you, and I want you now. Let's go to the bedroom on your bed." Her slurp as his cock slipped out of her mouth was answer enough before she sprinted away down the hall, big butt cheeks flying and legs churning as he raced to catch up. She fell on the bed and rolled on her back as she pulled her legs up to her tits and showed him her pussy. He stopped and touched it, the first black pussy he had ever touched. She jerked and ground her hips at the touch but moaned happily as he returned and parted her lips with his finger to reveal the pinkest inner vagina he'd ever seen surrounded by dark skin. It was too much, and his head bobbed, and his tongue touched her button in the keyhole at the top. She screamed, "Shit, Hal. Shit, Shit, Shit. Fuck me. Fuck me now." His cock was dripping his own juices as he slid his tongue up her vagina and then down and dug it into her pink and moist opening. He took his time and did it three times before he noticed her tummy starting to jerk spasmodically. Quickly, he raised his head and positioned his cock in front of her pussy and guided it with his hand. He took the head and placed it just below her clit and gently pushed enough to bury the rim with her outer lips before sliding it lower and lower until her push swallowed and enveloped him. When he felt his wide head spreading her opening then getting past it, he picked up his pace and begin stroking into her and out, into and out as he felt her anus with a little wet finger and sucked the nipple she offered him. When he released it, she grunted and turned her large tit to herself and sucked the same nipple while he watched and drove his cock against her cervix as her heat flooded him with her first orgasm. He stopped, let his cock fill her, then when her last spasm was done, he withdrew partly until the top of his cock was raking the rough little patch of skin inside her body directly behind her clit. He raked it once, then again as he moved up and back inside her, never moving more than an inch. It was too much for Bahia, who screamed a long wail and hit her spot, came all over his while pulling his butt deeper against herself.For Hal, it was too much, and the flood of his white, creamy liquid moved in pulses she could feel down his shaft and spurted against her cervix and the walls of her vagina, setting her off once again. Neither was done, and both settled down to serious pumping for several strokes before he rolled to the side, rolled her up and on top of him, where she controlled the pumping and swung her massive breasts to and fro until he grabbed one in each hand and pulled until she leaned towards him and used her muscles to squeeze his cock, getting one last squirt of his cum in the process. She wasn't human right then, nor was he, as they both grunted, sweated, and smelled the sweat of their fucking. She lifted up and turned enough to suck his cock back to life. When she had examined it, licked it, and felt the taste of both their juices, she kneeled over it again, but this time, rubbed it with her pussy until it was wet again, then put it against her ass and slowly slid her butt over his cock, burying it in her rectum and smiling that special smile. He used his fingers and entered her vagina, touching his own cock inside her body through the tissues that narrowly separated the two channels. She twitched and leaned forward with lips open to his. When they kissed, they both tasted the cum she had taken from both of them. Her hand found the panties she had discarded in haste, and she rubbed it across her pussy before bringing it to their noses and inhaling it as they came one last time. As she fell in a screaming faint, the panties landed around his neck, where they rested as the two lay entwined, connected and filled with the energy of the sex they had just completed. Neither could speak nor wanted to, and both were now emotionally discharged enough that she curled her head against his neck and began to breathe deeply, began to nap, happy with what she'd just done. He joined her, and the two slept a contented twenty minutes, curled and wet with each other's juices, until she stirred and whispered to him. "What should we do now, Hal?" "You mean, do we tell them?" "Yeah, that's what I was wondering." "What do you think we ought to do, Bahia?" Her wiggle told him what she'd say as she answered. "I think we ought to keep the cosmic calculus to ourselves until we've got it right, don't you?" A giggle and a squeeze was his answer as he took no time at all to respond. "We only did it in two positions, right, Bahia?" "Sixty-seven to go until we even begin to think about finishing the calculus by my way of thinking." His hand rolled one of her large breasts over and felt the button on the end as he kissed her ear. "Honey, it's going to take years for you and I to get this perfected. We can tell them once we get it right, eh?" She nodded, kissed his neck after moving her panties aside and balling the wet nylon into the pocket of his pants. "Find someplace safe for these, and when you want me, take them out, feel me in them and come to me. I'll be here. Edward and Sarah have no clue what they've started!" Any reasonable man would have to agree, even one whose cock was swelling and whose smile was nearly adding a new face to his skull. It was new and different, but it was definitely part of the cosmic calculus and was working out beautifully.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/68/insideout.txt
70,009	Sexywritr4u ([email protected])	Home Early	Yes! Business trip finished a day early, flying home without calling to surprise you! I know I am forgetting something. No matter. I retrieve my car from long-term parking and begin the drive home, fantasizing about making love to you tonight. As I turn onto my street, I remember what it was I forgot. You're having a lingerie party. I have to park the car next door due to all the cars in the driveway and in front of the house. I step into the house, and I can hear the radio playing a heavy beat loudly in the living room. As I step up to the entrance, I look around and count 5 couples. The women are all in lingerie and wearing short robes, and the men are casual. Then I see what everyone is staring at, and it takes my breath away. You're dancing to the beat, grinding your ass into the lap of one of the men as you hold his arms out away from you. As you stand up, I see you are wearing a pair of red satin crotchless panties and a matching demi-bra. You casually walk up to another man there and fall to your knees. Grabbing his belt and pants, you arch back and hump his leg as you fully expose your breasts to his view. I can see the trail of cum that you have left on his pant leg, and my cock begins to crawl up to an amazing hard-on. Deciding that this is enough, I cross quickly to the stereo and turn it off. As the music disappears, all eyes are on me, but my eyes are locked on yours. As the tension in the room mounts, I can see the shame crossing your face. I walk over to where you are now on your knees. I stand before you and say, "So you want to act like a little whore in front of all these people? Well then a whore you'll be..." I unzip my pants and let my hard dick fall out and guide it into your mouth. I can see your eyes widen in amazement as everyone in the room watches you take my throbbing cock deep into your mouth. I grab the sides of your head and keep your eyes locked on mine as you suck me in deeper. Finally, I glance around, and wide smiles meet me. Husbands are stroking their wives; wives have their hands in their hubby's pants as they watch you suck me down. I pull you up and lead you to the back of the sofa and bend you over it. Everyone moves so that they can see your face. As I rest the head of my cock against your pussy, I can see other wives now on their knees, and all the men have their dicks out now, either being stroked or sucked. Slowly, I slide it in. When I am in to the hilt, I lift your head up by your hair so you are looking straight ahead. Looking around, I see one man who is about to burst, and with my free hand, I motion him in front of you. You try to turn your head to look at me, but instead, I force your head down over his throbbing dick. As you hesitantly take him in, I pull back and slam deep into you, forcing his cock deeper into your mouth. His wife comes up next to him and starts to caress his chest and ass, kissing him long and deep. As she turns, her breasts fall out of her lacy top. The one you are sucking keeps one hand on your head and with the other starts to finger his wife. All the while, I am slowly stroking deeply into your cunt. Suddenly, the man's wife throws her head back and starts to cum, and as she finishes, the hubby takes his female-cum-coated hand, grips your head, and starts to fuck your mouth with a passion. I can hear the squishing sound of three people's sexual lubrication as he thrusts again and again, deeper until you begin to gag, finally he cums, filling your mouth to overflowing with his cream. Before you have a chance to swallow it all or to recover, I motion another couple in front of you. This time, the wife guides her husband's cock into your mouth and tenderly moves your hair out of your face. All this time, I have been slowly stroking your pussy, but as the new cock arrives in your mouth, I begin to play with your clit, reaching around you to do it. I stop fucking your pussy and just let it sit in your juices as I play with your clit and watch you sucking dick. I start to rub your clit as I see the couple before you starting to cum. First, he sprays deep into your mouth. Then she cums as she stands there, legs apart, working her own clit, and lastly, you. As your orgasm racks your body, I feel your pussy clenching my pole, begging for more. Without prompting, the next couple strides up to you, and so on, until everyone in the room has cum while standing in front of your waiting face. Pulling you up, I lead you around to the front of the sofa. I sit you down on the edge, pushing your knees up, I spread them apart so that everyone can see your wide-open gash, your cum slowly dripping out of it. Getting on my knees, I easily slip my straining cock into your pussy. Sliding back and forth slowly. Everyone can see and hear my cock in your wet pussy. I reach up and start twisting your nipples, fucking you nice and slow to increase your torture. Sliding in and out, grinding my hips as I slide in and out of your pussy, exploring every inch with maddening slowness. You buck your hips against me, wanting more, wanting it harder. But you have been a bad girl; your punishment has to be slow, deliberate, and lengthy. Your head thrashes side to side as you slowly start to build. You move your hand to your clit, and I spread your legs further apart so that everyone can see, your hand on your clit and my dick dancing in and out of your now sopping wet cunt. As you cum yet again, you whisper, "Fuck me, honey." I tell you in a booming voice, "Louder!" "Fuck me PLEASE!" you moan for all to hear. As I speed up, you are begging, "Harder!! Faster!! I NEED your cock!!" At last, I am slamming into your pussy as hard as I can. Looking at you with your head thrown back, hair hiding your face, I just can't take it anymore. Fucking you in front of all these strangers is too much; it's almost breathtaking in the excitement level, and I feel my balls tingle with anticipation. Finally, unable to hold back anymore, I cum in huge gushes, and instantly feel how much more slippery your pussy is. My eyes are closed in ecstasy, but I know everyone is watching me cum deep inside you. My body jerks as I shoot my cum and jerks again and then again. Just after I cum, your hips arch up, and you slam your pussy onto my spent cock and scream as your body is wracked by your final orgasm. After a few minutes, I can see and hear again and look around. Couples are going at it all over our house. As we look around, we see couples cumming here and there. After they relax a moment or two, each couple grabs their things and quietly heads to the door. After the last couple cums, (and leaves), I lift you into my arms and head to the bedroom. You lean your head against my shoulder and whisper, "Welcome home, baby."	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/68/homeearly.txt
70,086	DiscipleN	Good Golly, Mrs. Mommy!	You know how it is when it's your birthday, and you've unwrapped your presents, and you blow out the candles on your birthday cake, and everyone wishes you 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY!' and they sing songs and swat your butt, except everyone is only your mother, and you want to fuck her more than anything? Well, I don't care if you think that's messed up, or that I should cut off my dick and sew it into a bloody hand bag. When you consider what happened next, you wouldn't care either! "Dear, would you please fetch my handbag?" Mother smiled. She wiped a big glob of whipped cream from the corner of her mouth and licked her fingers. "Just think, in a couple years, we'll be able to celebrate with something more potent than chocolate cake and ice cream." "Sure, mom." I reached for the diminutive imitation of a carpetbag sitting on the kitchen counter. I handed it over and watched her pry into its packed contents. "I'm so glad you took that home economics class, your cake is delicious!" She was kind not to mention that whipped cream was an unusual frosting for chocolate cake. She continued to rummage in her purse. "Here we go." Mother pulled her hand out of her feminine rucksack and held up a condom. "Do you know what this is?" She gave me a stern look. "Yeah, mom, it's a rubber." What'd she think, that I was out of the loop of ninety-nine percent of my high school, like fundamentalist Christians who aren't allowed to use the letter 'x' in case they might spell a frightful, three-letter word with it? "Oh, pooh." Mom instantly sulked. "I know we should have had this talk sooner, but now that you know, I guess you'll be wanting to drive the car." "Mom, I got my license a year ago." Something weird was going on with her. I peered closer at mom. She didn't look drunk, and I hadn't seen her drink anything except bottled water. "Really, and what would your father say about that?" To this astonishing remark, I said nothing. My dad, her one and only husband, was pushing down Valkyries and tossing back beers in Valhalla. I believe I gaped. "Don't give me that look, young man. What if you got into an accident? The family Desoto would be ruined, and your father wouldn't be able to commute to work. Why, he'd have to take the bus like one of those poor, unfortunate Negroes." 'Negroes?' I pushed my chair back and seriously considered shitting in my pants. Hell, black guys in the school's computer club would serve my ass for tri-tip if I ever called them Negroes. And as for a Desoto, wasn't he a Latino middleweight? I burst out laughing. "Right, mom. That's a good one." "Hmmph! You listen to me, young man. I'll not have you disrespect me like that. It may be your birthday, but you're not too old to be sent to your room." My wholehearted laugh caught in my throat and gagged me. I coughed and continued to cough. I could hardly breathe with all that freaky in the room. Any second I expected Rod Serling to crawl out of the oven and give me the Heimlich maneuver. "Off you go. You can think up there, about what I said, while I clean up this mess. Don't forget to take your presents." Out of sheer incredulity, I stood up, grabbed my gift certificate for Wal-Mart and my three new Gamera DVDs, walked out, up the stairs, and into my room. This had to be part of some secret plot to surprise me on my birthday. I went over the day in my head, trying to detect a pattern.The only thing that bugged me was that my mother didn't seem to notice the difference between one of my modern oven wonders and this trite effigy to a woman's place in the home. She had two helpings. I carved a narrow slice but couldn't swallow more than a few bites due to its sawdust-like consistency. I begged for baker's snacking as an excuse for being full. I did notice mom's extra helpings of whipped cream and ice cream with each slice. Perhaps she was just being polite. That's when she pulled out the condom. "Shit," I exclaimed to myself as I entered my room. I poisoned my own mother with fossilized cake mix! All those chemical stabilizers and texturizers and artificial flavors and colors must have combined into a hella-psychoactive drug! I'd better call the doctor! Right, and tell her what? "Mommy's acting like a sourpuss? She's delirious, under the influence of bad cake?" I'd hate to see the doctor's bill for that emergency phone call. All I could do was sit on my bed and cross my fingers, hoping her immune system would fight off the chemicals. A couple hours later, boredom and a genuine worry about my mother forced me out of my room. I hadn't heard a peep from mom since she'd ordered me to leave. I found her in the living room, sitting straight up on the couch, staring at the curtains like a prairie dog. When she heard me sit down beside her, she blinked. "I'm afraid your father must be delayed at work." She patted my knee and tried to look consoling. "Mom, dad died three years ago," I chose to remind her. I thought maybe I could snap her out of it, but my own memory of his loss welled up in my heart. She simply stared blankly, neither at me nor the window curtain. It was like I'd turned off a robot. I sat with her for what seemed like an hour, but she didn't move. Eventually, I started to get horny. This is not as absurd as it sounds. If I didn't get horny at least three times a day, I'd feel like my hormonal balance had begun its slow decline into middle-age. I found myself staring at my mother's breasts. She still hadn't moved. I fingered the growing tent in my pants, trying to push it flat behind the zipper. When she didn't take notice, I took a good look. I leaned in closer, trying to see through her top. Was that a hint of a dark circle behind her bra? My fingering became a light tapping. The cock in my pants had begun its death march. I knew I'd have to blow a load soon, or I'd be in blue ball hell. Mother didn't move a muscle. I touched her arm, but she didn't react. Her skin felt terribly warm, as if she were running a fever. I placed the back of my hand to her forehead. It was hot. I felt a light sweat on her brow. I noticed her face glistening like a perfect, porcelain doll. I couldn't resist. I reached my arm around behind her and brushed the far side of her covered breast. My cock did a dance in my pants, but it didn't shoot. I wasn't that close. I felt her move then. She looked up first and then at my invading hand. Then her head swiveled back and her eyes met mine. "Oh honey, I have a terrible headache. Maybe we can do this another time," that said, she smiled, stood up, and walked away, up the stairs to her bedroom. I was the one who didn't move then. My mind was flooded with incredible ideas, and my cock thrilled at every one. When I heard her door close, I opened my pants and released the throbbing beast that commanded me. After several hardy jerks on my prick, I shot fourteen tablespoons of sperm into the carpet. The next morning, I was able to get into the shower first. When I went down to the kitchen, mother wasn't anywhere below. Hell, she's going to be late for work. I had almost forgotten the night before. I raced upstairs to her bedroom and pounded on the door! "Hhuhnn?" I heard a weak reply. I turned the knob and opened the door just a crack. Mother was lying in bed, arms and legs askew, her partially opened skirt and shirt clung half on to her body. My dick instantly responded. I stepped inside. "Mom? Are you okay?" "Oooohhhhh, I have the worst headache!" She tried to rise, but failed. Her half-covered underwear caught my attention for more than a few seconds. "I'll get you some ibuprofen." I rushed back to the bathroom and pulled the bottle from a shelf. I filled a rinsing glass and brought them both to her. I had to feed the tablets into her mouth and hold the glass up to her lips. I sneaked another peek at her chest. There really were dark circles visible through her bra. "My arms feel like dead weights, and my stomach is fluttering. How much did I drink last night?" "Are you kidding!" I gulped and nearly told her she hadn't drunk a drop. "What happened? I must have been blitzed. Oh Hank, I hope I didn't ruin your birthday." "You don't remember?" "The last thing I remember was you blowing out your candles." "I-I had a g-great time, mom. You just got a little carried away," I improvised. Some of those ideas from last night were filtering back into my head. All of them had to do with what she'd said. 'Maybe we can do this another time.' Already, I was telling myself that my mother wasn't all that worse for the cake she'd eaten. She looked better and better the more I looked at her. "Oh, I'm going to be late for work. You'd better scram to school. I'll be fine. Just grab something quick for lunch, and I'll see you tonight. Have a great day, my full-grown boy," she smiled then, quite unaware that I was growing great lengths in the presence of her disarrayed clothing. I could even see a corner of her white cotton panties. Only with great regret did I leave mom and rush off to school. Before I left, I checked the refrigerator to make sure the rest of the chocolate cake had been saved. It had. I returned home, I swear, before the school bell finished ringing. At first, I thought I'd entered the wrong house. A coat rack I'd never seen before greeted me at the door. There were pink throw pillows on the couch, and several orderly rows of collector dinner plates had been attached to the far wall. The place was spotless. We never lived in squalor, but the best you could call mom's and my lifestyle would be 'casual'. The furniture was rearranged, and there were plastic liners on the recliner and couch. Whoa, what kind of maid service had mom hired this month? I entered in a bewildered haze, not paying attention to subtle sounds and smells emanating from the kitchen. My home had shifted into the alternate dimension of some black and white sitcom! I hung my backpack on the coat rack and took off my wind-breaker. I let it fall to the floor. The front door remained open behind me. "Honey, are you home?" Mother sang tunefully from the kitchen. Then the smell hit me. "Mom, are you cooking? What is that foul..." "It's fish. Friday is fried fish, remember?" She must have been trying to make deep-fried sushi from rusted cans of tuna cat food. Mother appeared, smiling, at the doorway. A frilly dress with pleats and layers covered her from shoulders to ankles. Its pastel green clashed with the living room's deep purple, oriental rug. She stepped over to me quickly and planted a solid peck on my cheek. "It's been a long day without the man around the house. But I managed to fill the time. How was your day, hon?" "Mom, did you eat any of my birthday cake today?" Mom gave me a surprised look. "Oh, I guess you caught me, ha, ha. I doubt Hank likes the cake he made. What could compare to a mother's home cooking? I wondered why he didn't cut a slice before he ran out this morning. I figured it was fair game after that." Hank? Third person? What was I, tuna fish? The smell was oppressing my ability to think clearly. "Uh, that's okay, mom. What's for dinner?" "You must be famished after a hard day at the office, poor thing. I'll get your slippers while you sit and relax. How about an extra dry martini?" My mother kept smiling cheerfully as she darted around the room, patting the recliner, checking the closet for slippers that weren't there. "Here they are." She pulled out a brand new pair and fetched them over like a dog happy to greet its master. "I made you your favorite, dear, tuna casserole with American cheese." Oh shit, she thought I was her husband! (Not my father, but some false icon of a husband.) Oh fuck. Crap! What am I going to... Oh... PING!!! Oh? Now my brain had something to help fight the nasty odor in the house. That something was my erect cock! The epiphany which hit me then convinced me that my secret lust's time had come. As the husband of a properly obedient wife, I could write my own scenarios and mother would be my inspired actress. "Um, don't bother with the booze, err, honey. I'll just sit and think, while you finish in the kitchen." I took my place in our plush recliner. The plastic immediately molded to my back and clung to every inch of exposed skin. Right away, it made me itch. Mother knelt down before me and began untying the laces on my sneakers. I could see her cleavage, her full lips, her cheerful eyes. I lost it then. My cock could take only so much. I unzipped my pants and fished out its full length through my jockey shorts. Mother looked up and froze. What was this? If I had guessed right, sex wasn't even a thought in her head. It never existed before the sixties, at least in her mind. How could she object to something that was morally neutral? If holding up a condom was her entire lecture about human sexuality, then she was begging for some serious study. Words of immense wisdom returned to me from the previous day, 'When you see an opportunity, take it.' I took. I took my mom's surprised head with its open mouth and planted it over my stiff fuck tool! "Don't mind me, honey. This will be far more relaxing than a martini!" I cried.I began using her head to masturbate my pulsing cock. It was show time! I was so horny and gleeful at my audacity, I didn't consider the thousand unpleasant and even dangerous ways my mother could react. For the first ten or so poundings of her face to my prick, she remained frozen. She began to melt as I continued to fuck my cock into her jaws. Her mouth softened and her tongue began to lick the under-shaft. The tip of it tickled my balls at full insertion. "That's right, mommy, get a good taste of your boy's cock. He's had a tough day at school." I stopped acting like her imaginary husband on purpose. I wanted to fuck my mom as her son, no matter how psychedelically her brain had been fried. My hips pushed more cock into mother's mouth. I felt her head move on its own volition. Her plump lips seared across my shaft, quickening its pulse, my pulse. My hand relaxed and there we were fully engaged in hard pumping and sucking, time ticking down swifter and swifter. My balls lurched and churned. Muscles contracted and sperm leapt. "Oh, mom, don't let go. Swallow it, every shot, thaaaa, uuunnnggghhhh! Aaaaahhhhhggg!!" Vulcanized cum blasted from my dick and seared her throat. Jet after jet scored into her mouth. Mother's mouth sucked and gulped, my full cock poured its cumload down to her belly, jerking over and over until muscles failed and balls ran dry. I held her head and gasped for breath. I could hear air roar out of her nostrils. She could barely breathe. Pulling my softening cock from her mouth, I told her, "You're a peach, honey." It was the first corny line I could remember from 'My Three Beavers' or whatever that show was called. Her smile wasn't the same, but I'd give it an A for effort. She blinked and looked a bit confused, but whatever that cake did to my mom, it sure was effective. Sunshine peered around her shadow of doubt and lit my lower body. She actually kissed the side of my cockhead as if it had a cheek. "Dinner will be ready in five minutes," she reassured me. In five minutes, my cock would be ready. I eventually wandered into the kitchen and took my place at the head of the table. The food was horrendous! Imagine tuna fish mixed with mayonnaise stirred into half-cooked pasta and dried peas. Now add a layer of artificial yellow pavement across the top and you end up with broken utensils and no appetite. The green beans on the side were brown and mushy. The potato could have been used as a wheel block, and the milk, even the frigging milk tasted like it had been pissed in. "What did you do with the milk, mom?" I asked as I ran to the sink to flush the rest down the sink, rinse the glass, and fill it. Sink water tasted better than that milk. "Oh honey, is it bad? I guess I must have left it in the sun while I was preparing supper." "When did you prepare supper?" "Right after lunch. Are you ready for dessert?" My cake! I rushed to the refrigerator, but the cake wasn't there. Suddenly through the thin smoke in the kitchen, I noticed a peculiar, sweet, burning odor mixed with the rest of my mother's attempt at making phosgene gas. The oven! A gout of smoke poured out as I foolishly grabbed the hot sheet supporting what was left of my cake. "AAAHHH!" I screamed when the sheet seared my fingers. "Oh honey, let me get some butter for that." Mother rose delicately and searched the refrigerator. "I thought the cake would be more delicious warm." Unfaltering, I snagged a towel and finally rescued the cake. It was covered in charred whipped cream. I despaired to the point of tears as I set the smoking half circle of cake on the counter. Mother reached me and began to cool my blistered fingers with the butter. Paying her no mind, I took a knife and scraped off the charcoal coating. To my immense relief, the cake beneath was fine. "Um, mom?" "Yes, dear?" Her smile beamed once again. "Let's save the cake for tomorrow." I hugged her then. My lips found hers and kissed them fully. I even tried to stick my tongue into her mouth. My cock was ready for round two. Mother pulled away from me, and she slapped me playfully on the shoulder. "Really, honey, you ought to behave. I have such a headache. Maybe we can do this another time." I wish I had raped her then. We were down to half a cake. The next morning, I couldn't tell if mom was worse off for the drug. She had looked so devastated the day before. "Mom, are you all right?" "Oh, Hank, did you get the number of that truck?" She was holding her head and teetering in the bed. Her only clothing were panties and a bra. The society dress lay on the floor next to the bed. "Let me help you in the shower," I suggested. She swatted my hands away. "I'm not decent, sport, better clear out. How could I have gotten so wasted a second day in a row? Did I even go into work yesterday?" I answered her from the doorway. "I think you slept all day. Maybe you've caught some weird bug, mom. Aren't you glad it's Saturday?" "Sick on a weekend? Crud. Better stay clear, Hank. I wouldn't want you to catch this thing. There's a Rolls-Royce turbofan on afterburner incinerating the inside of my skull." Closing the door to a discreet, hairline crack, I called to her. "How's your appetite?" "My mouth feels like it sucked co..., err, pickles, all night long. I don't want anything. Make yourself something." Then softer, "Maybe a shower is the right thing." I heard her drag herself off the bed. I hightailed it into the kitchen. When the shower turned off, I gave mom ten minutes to dry herself and dress. I returned to her door and knocked. "Feel better?" "A little bit." I opened the door and peered in. "Hey! Don't come in!" There was my mom. She'd just put on her panties and was fumbling with her bra. Her soft tits hung off her chest like two small cantaloupes. No wonder I was in lust with my mother. I associated skinny tits with anorexics and fat tits with either obesity or silicone. Mom's were perfect for me, her nipples were also sized in dark moderation. That was all I could glean before pulling back behind the door. My cock raged to touch them. "Hey, mom, maybe a quick bite before you begin your day." Without looking inside again, I set down on the carpet, the saucer I had been carrying and slid it through the opening. I placed a fresh glass of milk, from a new carton, just inside the door. "Cake?" Mom wondered aloud. "For breakfast?" "Yeah, mom, I even made fresh whipped cream. The original cream didn't keep very well." I had more cream waiting for her, inside my pants. "You didn't have to trouble yourself. My stomach is still kinda queasy." Drat! She wasn't going to fall for it. "Oh, maybe just a bite. A little sugar might stimulate my appetite. I tell you every time you're sick that a little food keeps your metabolism strong. It's time to take my own advice." "YES!" I yelled silently. I heard the fork rattle on the dish. She was still shaky from her 'hangover'. For the first time, I would be able to measure how long the cake took to invoke its effect. I doubted I could wait very long without grabbing my dick and shooting a few ropes of cum through my mother's door, but I steeled myself for the effort. It took exactly fifteen minutes. "Hank, you'd better not be late for school again, or I'll have to have a talk with your teacher! Don't forget to bring your report straight to me. I'll have a star waiting for every 'A'." It was all I needed to hear. She was back to living a five-day week. I rushed inside the bedroom. She stood radiant in her blue, pink flower bespeckled, house dress. Even her hair had magically transformed itself into a piled bouffant. I tackled her in the middle of her room and drove her back down upon the bed. "What in mercy's name?" She cried out. I fumbled for my cock, pushing my pants down my legs. I straightened up and gave her a good look at my rampant organ. Just like the previous night, she froze, this time spread eagle across her bed, legs dangling over the side. I lifted her dress above her thighs and revealed her white panties. I pulled them down off of her legs and leaped on top of her. "My goodness, what is all this?" She sputtered, staring wildly at the ceiling. My cockhead found her pussy, but it didn't slip in. She was dry. Reaching between us, I aimed my cock where I thought cunt was, and I thrust myself inside her. "Ooowww! Hank, are you sure you're not going to be late for school!" "Mom, you sure may be late for your period!" I answered with a roar and fucked hard cock into unwilling pussy. It was hard on me too. Her dry cunt scoured my penis, but I didn't care. I was finally fucking my mother. "Oohh, it's so good, mother! I can hardly wait to fill your insides with my backed-up load of sperm!" "That's okay, honey. I'll clean up the mess in the kitchen. You just run along." I was running, running my engorged prick inside and out of the hole where I was born. My lust drove me like a sprinter. I could feel her cunt passage begin to lubricate. Her warm folds massaged my cock like no mouth ever could. Our frictioning tissues were soon bathed in mommy cunt juices and son prick pre-cum. "This is great, mom! I'm fucking you so great!" I couldn't believe it. I was raping my own mother, and she didn't have a clue about what I was doing to her. Whatever that cake had, it was better than any date rape drug I'd ever heard of. My cock plunged with glee. My body was already sweating and twitching. My nerves ramped up their pleasure force faster than ever. "Yes, you go right ahead and collect your things. Do you need mommy to drive you to school?" I felt her pushing back with her hips. Cunt sucked cock deeper with every thrust. "Oh dear, what's that?" My mother suddenly cried out.Her son knew before she did. My whole body detected the first spasms of her own natural reaction. She was getting ready to blow too. If only I could make it last, but my long-repressed lusts could be delayed no further. "I really need to vacuum around here!" Mother yelled ecstatically. My cock was bursting to plant seed into its place of origin. I could feel the wave of my orgasm rush up from my prick and down from my brain, filling my arms and legs and exploding out from my center. "I'm coming, mom, I'm UUUNNNNGGGGHHHH!!! COMING!!!!" My cum rushed out from my balls and blasted the walls of her cunt, forcing jism through the iris of her cervix. "Huh-HUH, UUUHHHGGG, 'urry up, son!!!" She screamed then. I could feel her cunt contracting and sucking each jolt of incestuous cream into her womb. "We don't want to be LAAAAHHHH-ate!" Her arms wrapped around me and hugged me hard against her tits. Even as I continued to cum, I was tearing at the top of her dress, revealing her bra and working to release her tits. I sucked on them like a mad motherfucker. "Ohhh, ooohh," Mother began to cool down. "Honestly, Hank, this is not the time to be fooling around! My hair, it must look a-fright. Whatever am I going to do with you?" "I think you should suck on my dick." I stopped engorging my face on her tits and crawled up over her ruined house dress. When my knees reached her shoulders, I fed wet meat into her bewildered orifice. She sucked. We spent the entire day worshiping my cock. I fucked, sucked, blew, screwed, and spewed into my gorgeous mother until she was black and blue. I shot load after load of salty, hot cream into her baby maker until my balls went numb from the effort and my cock couldn't hold more than an inch upright. The next morning was the same, except she woke up with an even worse headache and had bruises all over her body. I told her she needed to see a doctor. I lied to her about an appointment, but before we left I offered her another slice of cake. We never made it out the door. In fact, I even convinced her I was the sick one, and she wrote an excuse to be absent from school for a whole week. The day after the first rape of my mother, I eased back my ardor and was more careful about leaving telltale marks. I did leave my day's production of incestuous sperm in her belly. We repeated our little play every day for the rest of the week. I didn't try to cheat myself. I cut the same size of cake slice each time. It was going to run out eventually, and I didn't want her to be only half drugged. She had every right to haul my ass off to jail and dare my cellmates to plant their seed inside me. Oh no! When the last slice was consumed and consummated, I went back to a strict diet of whacking off but with better memories to cum over. It took a couple of weeks before I could bear to take the cake platter out of the fridge. (I told you our house wasn't the tidiest.) Mother was writing something in her worker's maintenance journal at the kitchen table. I couldn't stop myself. I set the platter on the counter and walked up behind her. I reached around her waist to cup her tits, wanting to massage them one last time. Mother spun around, and she slapped my face, hard! "Hank! We may live in a fairly free-thinking, modern world, but everything has its limits." She scolded me sternly. That's when I knew it was over. I took the empty cake plate to the sink. Mother shook her head. She probably felt bad about having to react so harshly. "I'm sorry to say it, Hank, but I'm glad that cake is finally gone. I don't think it was very good for me." She patted the slight but steadily growing bulge in her midsection. "I thought I'd recovered from that terrible illness, but recently I've been waking up sick to my stomach. It's almost as if..." "No, I'm sorry, mom." I interrupted her as I scraped crumbs into a sealable sandwich bag. "I can make a better cake than this one." I sneaked the bag into my pocket. Tonight I'd hide them far in the back of the freezer. "Who knows, mom? When I begin college next year, maybe I'll learn all sorts of secrets in organic chemistry." Fin	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/68/goodgolly.txt
70,173	Malinov	A Matter of Pride	Yellow lights reflected in the corners of the glass ashtray under the grey-blue twirls of smoke from a smoldering cigarette, a long thin cracked forgotten ash. Kevin tipped his mug slightly, sloshing the last few swallows of beer around the foam-coated side. "Can I get you another?" asked the dark-haired waitress. "Yeah," said Kevin lazily. He sat up and looked at his watch. "Wait," he said. The small woman looked up at him as she picked up an empty plate, crusted with melted cheese and a thick swathe of pasty sour cream. "Yeah, another one," Kevin repeated. "Might as well." The glass doors of the hotel bar opened into the night. Kevin looked up, hoping. A heavy man in a black wool coat stepped inside. Kevin watched as the man brushed a thin powder of snow from his broad shoulders. The gust of cold air reached deep inside, pushing the wispy column of smoke into a dissipated haze. Kevin picked up the filter of his cigarette and ground it into the dust of the ashtray. He looked at his watch again. "I can't believe this," he said, looking around the bar. A couple, dressed in black, leaned over their small table, conspiring. Kevin admired the curve of her heavy thigh escaping from the black wool skirt, her limb tinted in dark stocking. The young man spoke with his hand curled around his chin, two fingers resting on his unshaven cheek. The pair shared a scowl when a new, too popular song erupted from the bar's tinny sound system. Another chilling blast of cold air turned Kevin's attention back toward the entrance. The doors stood wide open as two couples tried to organize their intentions while they came inside. Kevin snarled silently and pulled another cigarette from the crumpled red and white package in his breast pocket. The waitress smiled with a thin gap between her front teeth as she put down a fresh mug of beer. "Anything else?" she asked. "No, this is great, thanks," said Kevin, squirming to sit up. The waitress shrugged and went to address the new group of patrons. Kevin strained to see out the large window behind a trio of suited businessmen, hunched over their cocktails, puffing their cigars and laughing with deep, knowing chuckles. Frost crept in from the edges, but Kevin could make out the motion of traffic in the parking lot. "It's not all that bad out there," he said, wondering if he should just pack it in and try to salvage the evening by going out. Kevin sighed and took a long drink. He picked up the slowly burning cigarette and took a puff of smoke. He didn't really want to leave. He didn't want to wander the streets of a strange city. He didn't want to trust the advice of some foul-smelling cabbie. He didn't want to find himself out in the cold snow, more alone there than he was here. He just wanted Carla to show up. Kevin shifted in his seat, realizing his need to find the bathroom. He stood up, stretching his long legs. The cold door opened and a short thick man and his furry round wife giggled as they shuffled into the warmth, slapping their shoulders and rubbing pink ears. Kevin wondered if he dared abandon his vigilant watch for his old friend even for three minutes, but he looked at his watch. If Carla showed up an hour late and didn't wait three minutes, well, that was just peachy. Kevin went past the island of the bar and down the dark hallway to the men's room. Coming back from relieving his bladder's pressure, Kevin took a quick stroll around the bar, making certain that Carla hadn't found her way into some unseen nook. A tired-looking, wastingly thin woman in a red blazer sat quietly across from a timid pock-faced man who played intently with a salt shaker. Kevin took ahold of the brass rail at the corner of the bar. The waitress, reading her notepad, stepped into him. "Excuse me," he said at once. "Oh," said the waitress, shaking her head and stepping past him quickly. "My pleasure," Kevin said quietly, gently laughing. A young woman sat alone at a table. Kevin stopped, draped in the large ivy that hung from the top of the bar, and stared at the tall blonde girl. She pursed her ruby lips to take an impatient puff of her long cigarette. Kevin smiled. Her white cotton blouse fell elegantly over her shoulders, a soft cascade that rose along the rapids of her full breasts. She lifted a glass of orange juice and sipped. Long, pale calves angled out of her linen white skirt, one foot dangling and pulsing in rhythm to the music. The pretty blonde intently watched the entrance to the bar. "I'm sorry," said the waitress, coming close to Kevin. "My fault," he said and went back to his table. The young couple in black gave a sudden burst of approval as the music changed, and they hopped toward the bare space of floor to shake to the exotic rhythms of their song. Kevin pulled out a different chair at his table and sat down, one eye on the door, another on the blonde. Kevin checked his watch. When they had spoken on the phone, before he flew in for the conference, Carla had seemed excited to see him. Kevin had expected her to be. She had always, at least it seemed to him, had a crush on him. He wouldn't have called her, particularly, except that he dreaded the trip and hoped that meeting someone who would be really happy to see him would make the ordeal easier to bear. Kevin wanted to be adored, if only for a night. He lit another cigarette. "What I should do is..." Kevin said happily, and he let a long puff of smoke pour forth. He stole a glance at the blonde as she continued to stare at the door. She was obviously waiting for someone who hadn't shown up. Kevin found it hard to believe anyone would forget such a beauty. "I guess I shouldn't feel too bad," he said and took a drink of his beer. The door opened, washing the air with a burst of frigid cold. Kevin turned to watch the thin woman in the red blazer hold the door as the red-faced man followed behind. Kevin sighed and looked back toward the blonde. She stood up, taking her coat. Kevin picked up his cigarette for a final puff and crushed it in the ashes. The young woman walked toward him, and Kevin felt his heart skipping, watching the sway of her hips under the loose linen skirt. She pulled her tan coat over her shoulders and walked past Kevin's table. Stopping for a moment to button her coat, the pretty blonde opened the door and vanished into the snowy night. Kevin picked up his beer and drank the last swallow. The mug hit the table with a clunk. Kevin started to look at his watch, but stopped himself. "Another one?" asked the waitress. "No," said Kevin. The door opened once more with a burst of cold. A young woman, her cheeks blushed red with cold, stepped inside. Brown curls swam from her knit yellow cap. She looked at Kevin and smiled. "Kevin," she called out, full of joy. "I was afraid you'd have left. My car wouldn't start. I had to call a cab." Pulling out a chair, she sat down. "Carla, I'm so glad to see you," Kevin said, smiling. He leaned over and gave her a hug. "Can I get you a drink?" "Sure, unless you just want to go up to your room. I hope you don't mind if I spend the night. I don't think I could bear to go out in that snow again." Carla's brown eyes twinkled as she grinned lasciviously. "That's what I like about you, Carla. You're reading my mind."	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/mal/amatter.txt
70,224	Realoldbill	Yasmine Wins	Yasmine looked at the full-length mirror and made a face. "Nothing special," she thought, "I don't get it." Everybody was saying how beautiful she was, how she had matured and stuff, lost her baby fat, grown so tall and pretty. So she wasn't soft, had a waistline and her breasts were certainly bigger, and she had hips, sort of anyhow, and her butt was round and hard, but there she was, nearly six feet tall now, 135 gawky pounds and, if it hadn't been for a mistake two years ago, a virgin. She smiled at the mirror and thought about how her Uncle Dave looked when he discovered he was in the wrong bed. She lifted her chin and petted her soft belly bulge and right down to her freshly shaved labia, parting her unsullied sex lips, well, almost, thumbing at her clitoral hood. She spread her legs and tilted up her pelvis, both hands stroking, eyes closed, enjoying fully, getting wet, seeking that special spot inside with her little fingertip as her clit popped out and throbbed. They had been at the beach, Yasmine recalled, as she slipped her fingertip upward and hooked it inward, her thumb caressing her tiny clit button while she squeezed her dough-soft breast, and she was asleep, or almost asleep, when her uncle crawled into bed with her, naked and horny, poking her legs with his hard penis. She had started to say something when he kissed her. She was almost sure of that. Yasmine pinched her nipple firmly and closed her eyes. He wasn't the first guy to kiss her, but he sure was the first naked guy with his cock sticking out like a baseball bat. Smelling of beer and tasting of tobacco, Uncle Dave rolled her to her back, settled between her long legs and licked her right breast as his thumbs spread her open. And then he was in her before she could even squeal, the head of his penis feeling as big and hard as a golf ball and tearing her open. She was sure she had made some sort of noise as he plowed through her little interior membrane and rammed a half-foot of man meat into her. She tried to remember and smiled when she could not, shivering with the pleasure she was giving herself with her fingers. Yasmine had been eleven when her favorite uncle, thinking he was getting into his sister's bed, raped his niece. He must have known she was a virgin after the fact, after the first thrust, must have felt the blood on his shaft, but if he did it did not seem to bother him. After the first painful humping, which was rather brief and ended with three or four very deep ejaculations, Uncle Dave rolled his niece over and enjoyed her two more times from behind before he fell asleep beside her, thoroughly fucked out, holding her to him spoon fashion. The pre-teen beauty just lay there, shocked, hurt and excited, the snoring man's cockhead still touching her buttocks, his calloused hand on her breast. She had never imagined, never even dreamed of being used that way. She had read the stories and looked at the web sites, seen men with huge members bouncing on willing girls in various positions, but her developing body was certainly not ready. So she lay there, eyes open and replayed the three fuckings in her mind, hearing her uncle grunt, feeling the plunging head of his phallus inside her, her flesh parting, quivering, rippling. Eventually she slept, but early in the morning when the sky was barely pink, he woke her, kissing her ear and touching her nipple. "Oh Yasmine," he had sobbed, "I'm so sorry," he mouthed her shoulder and then her breast, neck and then her mouth as he pulled her to him, tonguing her deeply, "I didn't mean to do it, honest." Some hard kisses and his hand between her legs, probing, "I hope I didn't hurt you." He petted her pussy gently and then licked it a couple of times. And then he was on top of her and then he was into her again, way up into her with his morning erection, and he was pumping and pumping and pumping. The bed squeaks is what had brought her mother into the room. But now Yasmine was thirteen and just thinking about Uncle Dave and what he did to her and with her and in her, made her wet and warm. She remembered wrapping her long legs around him that morning. Her hands came to her high, full breasts; squeezed and caressed, tweaking out her bulging nipples, what her mother had called her "puffies". She knew how men and boys looked at her now and she was aware that they liked to bump into her in the community pool and grab at her swimsuit and that her mother had made her get two new bikinis because she had outgrown the ones that fit when she was twelve. They were, the woman at Vickie's said with a grin, now thirty-four Cees. Yasmine knew they were handfuls and that if she licked and sucked gently at her big nipple she could excite herself to gasping pleasure. Her mother had shaved her groin this spring and again last week for the new swimsuits, petting her bulging pudenda and praising her tight-lipped vulva, urging her to stay clean, to wait, to not let boys use her. But her mother had lovers, lots of lovers. She even took the boy that cut the grass to her bed. Yasmine had listened to their vigorous lovemaking and fingered herself to a small, shivering orgasm when her mother cried out in joy and lust. Her mother was the personal assistant and mistress of a very rich businessman in the city who sometimes brought visitors to their small home, men who looked at her with hunger, but who ended up in her mother's bed along with her boss. The girl wondered how her mother did two men at the same time. "I'll get him," she decided suddenly, laughing, the grass cutter, turning sideways to admire her butt and going up on her toes, imagining what it was going to feel like. "I can hear the mower and Mom's not home. He must be cold or she wouldn't use his body." She pulled on her ratty jeans shorts, the tiny, raggedy ones that fit tight last year, and pulled them up until they hurt and nearly disappeared in her crack and then yanked one of her brother's college t-shirts over her curly head, her mind made up. She found her scissors and cut off the bottom half of the shirt so that it bared her smooth middle and barely covered her full breasts' lower sides. She liked the way her big jugs bounced when she hurried down the stairs and felt her nipples hardening, displaying themselves under the thin cloth, poking upward and outward. Billy saw her come out and sit on the back steps, long legs wide spread, pointed jugs stretching the cloth between them, inviting. He tried to ignore her as he finished the back yard, but she was very hard to ignore, six feet of wet dream with about an inch of denim between her plump thighs. Then he trotted past her, went into the kitchen and got himself a drink of water. The tall girl came and stood just behind him. When he turned, there she was, breasts nearly touching his chest, lips parted, smiling. She licked her lips and wriggled. "Hi, Billy, do me a favor?" "Sure, kid," he said, aware that the luscious youngster was taller that he was and had as hot a body as he had ever seen. She put her arms about his neck and pulled him to her, kissing him open mouthed, just the way she had seen girls doing on the porn videos. His tongue slipped into her mouth and he grasped her butt and crushed her to him. She could feel his boy thing. It was already big and hard. She wondered if it stayed that way. The panting girl wiggled down her old shorts and kicked them away as Billy pulled her chopped-off t-shirt over her head and watched her big mounds bounce. He turned her about and she spread her feet and stripped away her thong as she put her hands down on the kitchen table, scared, breathing fast, heart racing, vulva quivering and moistening. He laid his monster cock in her ass crack, grasped both her breasts in his hard hands and whispered as he squeezed, "How old are you, sweetie?" Yasmine couldn't speak she was so excited, feeling the huge cockhead rub her spine. She nodded and gasped out, "Do it, do it." Billy's blunt glans found a very tight-lipped entrance, and he wished he had gotten her to lick his penis. He spit in his hand, greased his massive member and screwed in its eager head, rising on his toes and lifting her. Her folds yielded. The hard-ridged head popped in; he had her, another one to add to his list of virgins. He felt the labia close behind his penis and flexed it. "I didn't hear you, how old?" he asked, an inch in and jerking about. "Yah, yah," gasped the girl as he nudged super sensitive places she did not know existed. "Ahh, oh godgodgod!" she sobbed and her forehead went right down to the table as Billy pushed in a couple of thick inches, turning her labia inward and parting her flesh. "Oh good, so good," the girl sobbed, shivering with pleasure and need."More, more." "How old, come on, tell me," he demanded as he backed an inch and then gave her half his length. "Thirteen," she sobbed. "I'm thirteen. Oh, that's so good, deeper, deeper." Billy yanked it out quickly, turned her around, and put her down on her knees. He laid his thick, blood-hot member between her lovely breasts, smiled down at her, and said, "Push 'em together, honey." "No, no," she sobbed, doing as he asked, "I need it. I'm thirteen, that's old enough." It was as good and exciting a tit fuck as Billy had ever enjoyed, and when he felt his balls contracting and his juices flowing, he said, "Open your mouth, honey," and gave her several thick ropes of his hot semen. Her tongue emerged to lick off the last drop, and then she managed to get to her feet as he returned to his job, putting his well-satisfied prick away. The girl drank some water, pulled on her chop-top shirt, and then went back to sit on the porch steps, her pussy dripping. She realized that he had come to her house on a bike, not in a car, and smiled, excited. She would get him yet, get him back in her. She shivered. When Billy finished, he put the mower away and came and sat beside her. "It's not fair," she sobbed, sniffing. He patted her muscular thigh. "You're right. But it's the law." "How old are you?" she asked with a sigh. "Fifteen," he said, "just last week." "See, see," she said. "Same as me, you're not legal either." He nodded, tempted and willing to take a chance for this ripe beauty. "Let's go upstairs," he suggested, licking his lips and smiling as he felt his cock tremble. She nodded quickly. "Good idea. Momma won't be home until late." They showered together, and two hours later showered again, both of them thoroughly satisfied. She became one of Billy's favorite girlfriends. END	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/75/yasminewins.txt
70,446	Modemac	HUMOR: We've seen this before...	You enjoy reading erotic stories. You've seen every kink, fetish, deviation, and position that could possibly be conceived...and a few that couldn't. I'm sure you've seen a lot of stuff that looks like this: "He thrust his nine-inch rod into her steaming love tunnel." "Fuckmefuckmefuckmefuckmefuckmefuckme..." "He came and pumped gallons of cum into the vagina." Yes, you've seen all of the overdone, unbelievable, outrageous, and just plain silly clichés that creep into all of those sex stories appearing on the Net over the years. But perhaps you may not realize just how MANY text erotica clichés there are! Here is an excerpt of some of the more common clichés found in various written erotica. Of course, you've seen a lot more than this meager list...and YOU can come up with a few new variations yourself. If you know of a story variation that you've seen repeated for the umpteenth thousand time, then let the compiler (but not the sole author) of this list know about it! The Top XXX Clichés of alt.sex.stories http://www.tiac.net/users/modemac/cliches.html So tell me...have you seen THIS before? When a woman cums, she screams, "Oohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, I'm cuuuuuuuuuuuuummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmiiinnnnnnngggggggggggggggggggg!!!" When a woman sees a man's penis, she immediately places her mouth on it. All men have dicks at least 9 inches long and 3 inches wide. Women's panties become soaked with moisture at the slightest suggestion of sex. When a man sees a pretty girl, his 9 inch penis immediately becomes rock-hard and she always notices it. When she sees it, she always smiles. If you haven't lost your virginity by the age of 13, your life is over. Blond goddesses with gigantic breasts and gorgeous bodies are all secretly in love with nerdy computer geeks, and their ambition is to move into the apartment next door to a computer geek. Men and women always cum at the same time during sex. Premature ejaculation? Never! Babysitters are the luckiest people on the face of the earth. School teachers and college professors are the second luckiest people on the face of the earth. Women really have the best (or full) orgasms only from phallic intercourse. "...he thrust his nine-inch rod into her steaming love tunnel." (Can't they write something a little more erotic and suggestive?) When a husband finds that his wife has been cheating on him, he is more turned on than angry. When a woman finds that her husband wants to watch her fuck other men, she thinks it a swell idea. Or, in general - When one person wants some kind of non-standard sexual behavior, everybody else agrees. High school (and Jr. High) girls want sex, but don't know where to get it. (Come on, guys. You lusted after all those girls in HS. Do you think that they didn't know that? Do you think that the present generation isn't doing the same? Do you think that you are more impressive to a frosh girl than the senior football hero?) A girl's first date leads to her first kiss before ending with her first fuck. Every woman, no matter what age, has perfectly trimmed or shaved pubic hair. People who want sex don't have any obstacles. Parents go out of town for the weekend. When you want a matinee, your opposite number doesn't have a business lunch scheduled. The professor who is offered a sex slave for a passing grade doesn't fear entrapment. Your kid doesn't call for a glass of water. Kids leave the doors to their rooms open while they masturbate. Parents leave their doors open while they have sex. If a woman has intercourse during her fertile period, she will get pregnant. All Blacks are extremely well hung. Any copulation between a white woman and a black male will result in pregnancy. Men who know women's bra sizes from outside their dresses. All women wear garters instead of panty hose. All women love pain, causes them to orgasm. "...but when I found out that my husband (or wife) had been seeing someone else, I wasn't angry...rather, I was excited!" All women in a position of authority have secret desires to be submissive. All women with small breasts fantasize about having REALLY HUGE ones. "...Ohh, Billy, fuck me hard, fill my love hole, make me cum..." (repeated endlessly) Women cum about 20 times from straight missionary fucking. Everyone has a perfect body you could break a brick on. A man who discovers that the attractive woman who has been giving him a blowjob is really a guy will admit that he was a latent homosexual anyway. All women in sex stories can give great head. Even the 13-year olds. Anal sex requires very little preparation time. Even the first time. A woman whose male lover has spurned her will invariably be a dyke by the end of the story. Who needs condoms? Any woman described as having a scientific occupation will invariably be occupied with making her breasts larger. Every sexually transmitted disease and parasite has been eliminated. (Apparently with the same technology that allows women scientists to grow their breasts.) When magically granted wishes, men will choose, in this order, the following: An 18" dick, the ability to attract women, and one of the following: obscene riches or the ability to grow breasts larger. No one is ever nervous or frightened at the prospect of sex. Or they get over it is sixty seconds. If a woman has small breasts, she will always have dark, pointy, otherwise amazing nipples. Practitioners of Magick have to do it nude. A backrub ALWAYS leads to something else. No one ever says "Can't we just cuddle?" If a married man's wife has a sister, the sister will be a bombshell sexpot (more beautiful than his wife) who is just aching for a chance to leap in the sack with him. Dozens of men worldwide have perfected mind-control devices which allow them to create huge harems. Menstrual periods don't exist...except as a way for the woman to discover that she didn't get pregnant that time, after all. (Whew! That means she and her lover can keep on doing it.) The only way to relieve yourself is on another person. No one ever says "I wish you'd shaved today." If you have a hangup over a particular sex act, you'll get over it once you try it (no matter how perverted it is). People in sex stories can always find the thing they're looking for. In bed. In the tangle of sheets. In the dark.Any character introduced and described in more than a paragraph after the first 200 lines of a story will be involved intimately with one or more of the previously introduced characters. Any description of a female must include specific bra and cup size, hair color, and either "full" or "pouty" lips somewhere or another. Precise waist measurements are optional, but common. Body fat simply does not exist unless the writer has a fetish. Any story told with a male first-person narrator will describe any other penis in the story (if mentioned at all) as being "somewhat smaller". Optionally: "...smaller but thicker". The first sexual encounter between two people always proceeds in this order: 1) He sucks her tits. 2) He eats her pussy. 3) She sucks his dick. 4) Missionary fuck. 5) Doggy-style or anal. Doing it any other way is against the rules. Women "never want a man as bad as this one." Small, geeky computer nerd types are the wildest, most incredibly capable guys in the sack -- oh, wait. That's true. ;-)	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/05/seen_it.txt
70,452	Unknown	Sleeping Little Sister	You wouldn't believe how tight my little sister is. What's that you say? "You wouldn't believe someone would be so perverted as to fuck his own little sister?" Well, what would YOU do if your sexy little sister came into your room one night and climbed into bed with you, stark naked? Sure you would. SUUURE you would. And you would send back the winning million-dollar lottery ticket too, saying you didn't deserve it. Actually, the first time it happened, it was completely innocent. Honest. Well, for Chrissie it was anyway. My little sister had just gotten cold, as the temperature outside dipped down to almost 30 below. We live in this old farmhouse about ten miles outside of Embarrass, Minnesota, where the usual joke is, "I'd call it Embarrass too. I'd be embarrassed to live in a place that got that cold!" Actually, around here, people are more likely to BOAST about how cold it gets than complain. Comments like, "Gee, did you know that it got down to 47 below at our house last night?" would be followed by a, "So what? WE got down to 52 below." My father used to say that "The first liar never had a chance." Still, WE never lied about OUR cold records, and as far as I know, our neighbors were as scrupulously honest as we were. It's just COLD in this part of Minnesota. Those people who don't get macho enough to brag about the cold usually wimp out and leave in a few years. Anyway, Chrissie has the room next to mine, and about 15 feet further from the thermostat, and further from the center of the house. Also, the duct-work into her room doesn't get as much warm air from the furnace. Usually, Chrissie doesn't mind; she just has one more blanket than I do. However, this night was not only cold, but the wind was coming from the east for a change, and my father had just installed the new thermostat to save energy by automatically turning the heat down at night. It must have been freezing in my little sister's bedroom. So, the little girl got up, came down the hall, and slipped into bed with me. All very innocent. "Huh?" you say. "Innocent?" "Climbing into bed naked, with your own big brother?" I see I'll have to explain a little more. Up to about a year ago, when Chrissie got cold, she used to climb into bed with Mom and Dad. She started doing this when she was about three years old. However, last year, Mom had put a stop to it. I think it was because at 10 years old, Chrissie's body was starting to have an effect on Dad, and Mom didn't want there to be any "accidents" in the middle of the night. Besides, Mom liked her privacy, and Chrissie was getting old enough that she might notice certain "things." Well, Dad's loss was my gain. Not being allowed to sleep with Mom and Dad anymore, Chrissie figured that her big brother wouldn't mind if she slipped into bed with him. She didn't ask me, she just did it. Well, she never asked Mom or Dad either, so that's really no surprise. What WAS a surprise was waking up at about 2 AM as my little sister's body snuggled up to me for warmth. She had just walked down the hall and slipped into bed with me, stark naked. And I was just as naked. Huh? Oh. I never wear anything to bed at night. Never did. I don't think my parents do either, as Chrissie never seemed surprised to find me not wearing any clothes when she got into bed with me. Come to think of it, I don't remember even seeing a pair of "pajamas" until I was almost 12, and George and I went on that camping trip with his dad, where he snickered at me for going naked in the sleeping bag. I was just as amused at him actually wearing special "clothes" to bed. Heck, you might as well wear clothes to go swimming! Even around the house, it's not all that unusual for one of us to not bother getting dressed on a weekend morning, unless we had someplace to go. Mom usually dressed because she didn't want to get burned when she made breakfast. Still, I can remember more than one morning eating cold cereal, when all four of us sat around the table, with not more than two pairs of socks and a pair of slippers between us. (The tile floor is COLD.) So it wasn't the fact that Chrissie was naked when she climbed into bed with me that was such a shock. It was the fact that she was there at all, AND the fact that her body was cold! When my little sister snuggled her cute little 10-year-old butt up against me, far from being aroused, I almost let out a yell of surprise and shock! Thank goodness I didn't. "What are you DOING here?" I asked my little sister. "I was cold," she complained, snuggling her almost-freezing butt back against me for emphasis. "You don't mind, do you?" I thought about it and decided I didn't. What the heck, I felt sorry for my little sister, and besides: I was cold too. Chrissie would make a nice little bed-warmer, once her ass warmed up. Yeah, I can see your smirks right now. Thinking about how "hot" that bed would get. Well, I wasn't thinking about sex right then. That didn't come until later. As I said, at FIRST, it was all very innocent. Even on my part. As for later... Well, that's what this story is about. NO, I did NOT climb on top of my innocent little sister and fuck the hell out of her, just because she climbed in bed with me naked. Chrissie just wanted to get warm, and at first, that's all I wanted too. In fact, it wasn't until about two hours later, that I had any sexual thoughts at all about my little sister. It must have been about 4 in the morning, and we had both been sleeping comfortably for quite a while, when I woke up with a piss-hard-on and needed to hit the bathroom. Only Chrissie wouldn't let me. I was lying with one arm wrapped around my little sister's body, instinctively cupping her little nubbin of a breast, and she had wrapped HER arm over mine, and wouldn't let go. I suppose I SHOULD have pulled away, but I was still too sleepy to make a struggle. I decided to wait to pee. Possibly even go back to sleep. Only it was about then I became aware of my sexy little sister's cute little butt rubbing against my piss-hard prick. It wasn't intentional, but it sure was sexy! Suddenly pissing was impossible anyway, as my piss-hard-on became the real thing. I tried pulling away, but Chrissie just hung on tighter to my arm, pressing it against her little chest, as she snuggled back against me. Once she gets to sleeping soundly, Chrissie is almost impossible to wake up. I know, I tried. I tried pulling away from my little sister, but since she had a death-grip on my arm, that just forced my groin even harder into her sexy little butt. After a couple of pulls, I stopped trying anyway. I had other things on my mind. I COULD have pulled away, if I wanted to, but it would surely have woken Chrissie up, and shortly that was the last thing I wanted. "Chrissie?" I said, to be sure she was really sleeping. Chrissie didn't respond, even when I repeated it louder. By now, my mind had become filled with the sexy possibilities of sleeping with my little sister, when she was unable to wake up. Uhuh. I'm sure you have had such ideas yourself, about taking liberties with an unconscious girl, even if you DON'T have a cute little sister sneaking into bed with you. Well, so had I, even before Chrissie did. Only I never expected to realize those fantasies with my own sister. Once it became obvious that I wasn't going to wake Chrissie up, without raising a real ruckus anyway, the possibilities were staggering. Well, hard-on raising, anyway. Only I already HAD a hard-on, and Chrissie didn't even seem to be aware that her cute little rear was rubbing against a throbbing erection, that was simply ACHING to slip up inside her tight little cunny, and squirt her full of her big brother's cum. I didn't do it, of course. I was too scared of what would happen if she woke up, while I was halfway inside her. Could you imagine the yelling, screaming and accusations? Well, I did. So I didn't try to fuck Chrissie... At least, not then. I DID start sliding my prick back and forth, up against my little sister's cute little butt; between her legs, and even up against her pubic-mound. Back and forth, until my prick was drooling pre-cum; lubricating the sensuous slide between the little girl's legs even more.When the head of my cock got real slippery, the tip even spread my little sister's cunny-lips, until I could feel her pubes wrapped halfway around it, and knew the sweetest little hole in the world was sliding along the top of my aching penis. That was it. Before I was even aware that I was about to cum, I was doing it; squirting great sticky gobs all over my little sister's ass, between her slim little legs, and even all over her pubes, and in between them. It was like some silly comedy, where I couldn't get the damned thing to stop squirting. By the time I stopped squirting, my little sister was a mess. So was I, with white greasy cum all over my hand, where I had been desperately trying to keep from getting any on the bed. Mostly I had succeeded, but at the expense of squirting more of it all over Chrissie. I knew I had to clean up the mess, before Chrissie woke up, and wondered what was happening. I knew I could NEVER satisfactorily explain THIS. Chrissie STILL didn't want to let me go, but I finally managed to work my hand out from under hers, and make a bolt for the bathroom. I didn't DARE stop to pee, even though my prick was now threatening to make an even BIGGER mess, if I ignored it much more. I gritted my teeth, and dashed back into the bedroom, with a whole roll of toilet-paper. First, I grabbed a wad, and stopped the more obvious drips from reaching the bed. Then I wiped my hand, and tried to clean Chrissie up, without waking her. Chrissie slept like a log. Only when I had finished up with the more obvious mess, did I worry about what my little sister had between her legs. What a sticky gooey mess! Ready to bolt and play "sleep" at an instant, I carefully lifted my little sister's leg, and wiped up the streaks of cum between them until I came to the most delicate job of all. Chrissie's crotch was slippery, where I must have squirted three or four healthy gobs of cum all over her pubic-mound. Carefully I wiped up there too. Chrissie didn't wake up, or even move much; except when I wiped right between her little mounds that made up the outer lips of her bare little cunny. Chrissie moaned, and I thought she might wake up, but she only pressed her little pubic mound more firmly against my probing hand, while I froze in fright. When I realized she wasn't going to wake up after all, and even seemed to like the feel of my hand between her legs, I couldn't resist letting my big finger slip between the lips of her crack. It was warm and incredibly slippery in there, as some of my cum must have accidentally gotten inside. I didn't dare wipe her there with the rough tissue, so I tried to kind of "sweep" the extra goo out with my finger. I didn't really succeed, but something else happened instead. Chrissie seemed to like the feel, and she pushed back at my probing finger; until it slipped halfway up inside her hot little hole. Oh shit! As I said before, you wouldn't believe how tight my little sister is. Or how hot and wet she is inside. I almost fainted from the feeling of my little sister's vagina sucking on my finger like a calf sucking on its mother. The thought of how it would feel sucking on my prick, was almost enough to make me repeat my earlier embarrassing episode. I couldn't resist sliding my sperm-slippery finger even further up inside my little sister to see what would happen. "Mmmm," moaned Chrissie, making my hair stand on end. Surprisingly, having her big brother feeling her up, didn't wake her. In fact, she seemed to slip into an even deeper sleep, hugging the pillow, instead of my arm this time. I don't know how long I might have remained there sliding my finger in and out of my little sister's hot wet hole, but I was forced to quit fairly rapidly. The pressure in my bladder told me I had two choices: Either make a mad dash for the bathroom, or make a hell of a mess on the bed. I pulled my finger out of Chrissie, (THIS almost DID wake her up!) and just made it to the toilet, before losing control. After I had finished, I returned to bed, and went back to sleep. Yes, sleep. With the pressure off both my balls and bladder, the very thought of the risks I had been taking was enough to give me the shivers. If I had been caught... <shudder> I moved as far away from Chrissie as I could, and went back to sleep. The sensual feel of my little sister's skin rubbing against my leg was a wonderful way to wake up in the morning. Her lithe young body next to me made me want to hold and cuddle her all day long. It was only when I remembered the narrow chance I had taken the previous night, that my hair stood on end, and I hurriedly moved away from my sister. Chrissie didn't even notice. Cheerfully she got up, and walked back to her bedroom to get dressed, now that the temperature was back up. She didn't even seem to notice or care that I was staring at her naked body with interest, until she left the room. Well, that should have been that. Only what had happened that night haunted me for the next three days. Visions of my little sister's naked body lying next to me covered with my sperm filled my thoughts; while I imagined her sexy little butt against my stomach again, and dreamed of my prick sliding up inside her tight little hole, just like my finger had. I don't know WHY Chrissie slipped into my bed that night, three days after the first episode. It wasn't nearly as cold as before, and the wind was from the west, like it usually is. Still, I didn't object. This time, Chrissie just slipped into my room right at bedtime, instead of the middle of the night. "You don't mind if I sleep with you tonight, do you?" she asked; but didn't wait for an answer before slipping under the covers with me. For the second time in a week, I found myself in bed with a cute, squirming, sexy, and VERY naked little girl. Only THIS time, I was fully aware of the possibilities. My prick exploded into an erection, like a poker sticking out in front of me. I KNEW Chrissie could feel it, as it was poking her in her soft little tummy. Surprisingly, she didn't seem to mind. She just moved over, turned her back to me, and snuggled back to me again; ignoring the fact that my prick was sliding halfway between her legs. I ran my hand over her flat little tummy, and up over her budding young breasts, and Chrissie just giggled. Only when I started rubbing her pubic mound, did my sister reach down, grab my hand, and firmly place it back on her sweet little tit where it belonged. Two minutes later, Chrissie was asleep. There's no way, that I could get to sleep. The sensual feel of my little sister's skin against mine, the smell of her sexy long hair in my nose, the feel of my prick rubbing against her slim little leg the... well you get the idea. I'll be able to ignore my little sister when I'm dead. Part of me was FAR from dead at that moment; and it took over most of my thinking. Yeah, my prick was as hard as a rock, and the sexy dreams I had been having all week about my little sister didn't help matters either. I waited, almost holding my breath, until I was sure Chrissie was asleep. Then I waited some more; listening to her quiet breathing for over half an hour, to be sure she wasn't faking. "Chrissie," I said, then louder, "Chrissie?" There was no response, except the quiet breathing of my little sister, and the slow rise and fall of her chest against my hand. This time, when I ran my hand down her tummy, and then on until it rubbed her pubis, she didn't object. Chrissie was really asleep. By now, my prick had been leaking slippery pre-cum for almost a half-an-hour. So, it was with no difficulty at all, that I slipped the head of it between my sister's legs. I wanted to repeat the thing I had done the previous night. Only THIS time I had a roll of tissue-paper by the bed, and a towel handy too. I wasn't going to be caught unprepared this time. So, I started doing it again; sliding my prick up against my little sister's butt; between her legs, and even up against her tight little hole. Two or three times, I felt the tiny little hole against the top of my prick, until I couldn't resist and slid down in bed, until I could angle my prick up so the tip poked into the furrow that guarded my little sister's vagina. I could actually feel my sister's tiny little vagina in a circle around the head of my prick. There was no way that I figured I could actually get my penis inside her, but just the thought was enough. I came again. Only THIS time, I didn't get it all over the bed. I got it all over the inside of my little sister's vagina, instead. Uhuh. I had the tip of my prick poking into Chrissie's tight little hole, when it exploded; and I let every drop squirt right up inside her. I hadn't really PLANNED on doing this, but I did it anyway. (Actually, I had planned to use the towel, but once I started squirting in Chrissie it was too late.) Knowing my sperm was going into my own sister's body, was incredibly sexy. It was also a relief, to know I wasn't getting it all over her body and the sheets, like last time. I didn't dare pull away, until I had spasmed the little girl full of every drop of incestuous sperm I had in me, and my prick was finally wilting like six-week-old celery. Since I had squirted it inside her, I couldn't wipe my cum out like I wiped it up last time; so I stuck a wad of tissue into my little sister's crack, and drifted off to sleep. About an hour later, I woke up sweating. What if Chrissie woke up, and found a wad of tissue holding my sperm from leaking out of her hole? There's no way she wouldn't be able to figure out what had happened.I hurriedly reached down and managed to work the wad of tissue out, without waking my little sister. Only now I couldn't get back to sleep. My little sister's sexy little body next to mine, and the knowledge of how close her tight little slit was to the head of my prick wouldn't let me. Finally, I knew I had to try again to blow another load of cum into my little sister, or I wouldn't get ANY sleep at all. That's all I intended to do... Slide my prick in and out, just like before, and jack off into my little sister. I didn't really plan on fucking her... Honest. Only when I was rubbing up against Chrissie's vagina this time, her hole was so slippery with my sperm inside her, and the head of my prick was so slippery with pre-cum that when I tried to seal the head of my prick against her vagina, so I didn't get any cum on the bed, it just slipped inside. The head of my prick, that is. The feel of my little sister's cunny-lips snapping over the head of my penis was too much. I had planned on a nice long session of bringing myself to the brink several times, before I squirted my seed inside Chrissie; but feeling her incredibly tight little hole squeezing and milking on the head of my prick caused me to cum almost instantaneously. Just like the previous night, this time it seemed to go on and on. Squirt after squirt of thick sticky cum spat into my little sister's belly. Gob after gob. Jet after jet. I must have ejaculated almost a pint of warm greasy cum into my little sister, and it's a wonder her flat little tummy didn't bulge from the internal pressure. I fell asleep that way, with my prick holding my sperm bottled up in my little sister's womb. Two hours later, I repeated the job. I woke up; found my prick leaking cum in my little sister's belly, and slid the head in and out until I came again. This time, I made SURE I had the head of my prick inside her, while I spasmed her tight little tunnel full of warm greasy cum. In the morning, I did it again. In fact, Chrissie was just starting to wake up, as I left the last sticky drop of incestuous seed squirting in my little sister's hole. I don't know what Chrissie thought about being so wet between the legs, but she seemed to be embarrassed. Perhaps she thought she had been having a wet-dream. For sure she didn't seem to feel my prick pull out of her vagina, as she got up, and then dashed for the bathroom to pee. Well, as you can imagine, I did it again. And again, and again. For almost a month, Chrissie stopped by every two or three nights, and once she was asleep, I would fuck her. By the third time, I started trying to push more than just the head of my prick inside her, and by the fifth, I was sliding my prick up in my little sister's belly, until my balls were rubbing against her bare little cunny lips. After that first disaster, I never wasted a drop outside of Chrissie's tight little hole. And God was she Tight! But that made it feel all the better to my horny prick, and safer too; as she was less likely to leak, once I had squirted inside her. Usually, I would spend the whole night with my prick buried in my little sister's body; only pulling out, when I woke up the next morning. It's funny, but sliding my prick up inside her tight little hole never seemed to disturb Chrissie's sleep at all. Not even when it first went in, and it was all I could do to make it fit. (God, she's tight!) However, pulling it out, almost always did. Quite a few times, I lay there and sweated, while Chrissie's breath grew ragged in the middle of the night, after I had come inside her; waiting for her to go back to sleep, so I could clean her up, while worrying about what she'd say if she figured out why her crotch was such a mess. After a while though, I solved this problem by just leaving it in my sister; bottling up my sperm inside her, until we got up in the morning. Since I usually woke up first, this worked out pretty good. As I said, usually I woke up first; pulling out, and shaking Chrissie at the same time, so she wouldn't associate being woken up with the fact that my prick was no longer filling her snug little hole, or the snapping sensation of her cunny-lips popping off the head of her brother's prick. Twice though, Chrissie woke up first. Luckily, when she woke up, she turned over; pulling my prick out of her before she was fully awake to what was happening. I shudder to think what might have happened, if she had come fully awake, with my fat prick still up inside her. Oh well, it didn't, so why worry now? Chrissie never seemed to notice until AFTER I had pulled out that she was full of cum, and then she always seemed embarrassed that I might find out that she had another "wet-dream" Ha! Well, you know it didn't last forever like that. In fact, it's amazing that it lasted for the week-and-a-half that it did. The end, was precipitated, when my parents got up one night, and didn't find Chrissie in her bedroom. So they went looking for her. "Oh. There she is. Look, Marsha, she's in here with Billy." My father's words woke me from my half-doze, where I lay with my half-hard prick still leaking cum in my little sister's tight little hole. Oh shit! I was dead! When my parents saw me sleeping with Chrissie, they would just HAVE to know I was fucking her. I didn't even dare pull out, as the movement would have made our sexual-joining that much more obvious. I lay there sweating, as I tried to pretend that Chrissie and I were just lying there, innocently sleeping together like two kids who didn't even know there WAS such a thing as sex. Chrissie just slept; making HER job easy. I lay snuggled up to her as close as I could, so our parents wouldn't be able to see that my prick was inside my little sister, unless they already knew it. This forced the last two inches of my prick into my little sister's tight little snatch; bringing a murmur of satisfaction from her, as she snuggled back in her sleep. Once again, my prick was buried to the balls in my little sister's vagina. Oooh, did that feel good. A squirt of pre-cum leaked out, as I tried to remain still. It was incredibly hard not to thrust in and out, as Chrissie's vagina rippled and milked on my invading prick. I guess she was having sexy dreams, just like I had been. Well, I'm not completely sure how well it worked, but Mom didn't come into the room screaming, when she saw my little sister sleeping peacefully next to me. In fact, she seemed to be amused. "Oh, isn't that cute," she said. "Chrissie's getting to be quite a sexy young girl." Oh shit! Suddenly, I was sweating like heck, all over again. "Uhuh," said Dad. "If it wasn't her big brother she was sleeping with, we might have to take precautions." "I suppose," said Mom. "One of these days, When Chrissie starts having boyfriends, we're going to have to get her started on some kind of birth-control." My hair stood on end. Up to then, I hadn't even THOUGHT about the possibility of getting my little sister pregnant. And the little girl was sleeping at that moment, with a big helping of my sperm soaking into her vagina, right up next to her (possibly) fertile young womb. I wondered if Chrissie had started menstruating yet. I was so scared at the prospect, that I almost missed my father's answer. Chrissie's tight little tube squeezing on my prick, did little for my composure either. If I wasn't careful, I was going to ejaculate yet another helping of my seed in the child's womb, and THIS time I wouldn't have ignorance of the fact that she might get pregnant, as an excuse. "Well," Said Dad, "there's ONE way we might rig it, so we don't have to worry about one of her boyfriends knocking Chrissie up, without putting her on the pill." I listened with all my might. If there was a way out of this mess, then I wanted to hear it. How could Chrissie be safe, if she was fucking someone, and not using birth-control? Right then, I had a VERY personal interest! Even straining to hear, I missed it. Dad must have whispered in Mom's ear. "You're kidding!" she said. I could hear the amusement in her voice, so it must have been pretty funny. "Well," said my father, in a more normal tone, "Chrissie can't very well GET pregnant, if she's ALREADY pregnant by her own big brother, now can she?" "You're incorrigible!" said Mom, but I could hear the laughter in her voice. "No, just horny from seeing my little girl sleeping in the same bed with her big brother. Who knows, maybe Chrissie is ALREADY carrying Billy's baby in her sexy little tummy. Wouldn't that be a kick?" "You don't really MEAN that, do you?" "Well, I know if I was Billy in that bed with a sexy little sister like Chrissie there, I wouldn't be wasting my time sleeping! I'd be filling the little girl's cute little tummy so full of baby-juice, she'd be having triplets before she gets out of the fifth grade. Besides, wouldn't that solve the problem of us having to worry about Chrissie getting knocked-up by some kid she hardly knows?" The light dimmed, as the door closed, and my parents backed down the hall. "I guess it would, but WHAT a solution!" Mom's voice was fainter now. I could barely make out dad's, "Maybe. But I can tell you like the idea. See? You'd like to see Chrissie's cute little belly swelling, just as much as I would." There was a squeal from my mother, and then their door closed with a <click> and I couldn't hear any more. I wasn't listening anyway. I knew enough.Just knowing that my parents WANTED me to get my little sister pregnant was too much for my over-stimulated prick. My cock swelled up like a balloon until it felt two-inches in diameter and sent another surge of life-giving sperm squirting into my little sister's womb. This time, I didn't try to hold back. Pushing in as hard as I could, I sent bolt after thick creamy bolt of baby-making cum as far up inside my little sister's belly as I could. It was only when I was slowing down, and the last little trickle of cum was dribbling out of my half-hard prick, that I realized my frantic thrusting had finally woke my little sister up. Oh shit! Maybe Mom and Dad wouldn't be mad if I got Chrissie pregnant, but then THEY were assuming that the little girl would know what was happening when I did. If my parents found out that I had effectively raped their little girl by fucking her while she was asleep and couldn't even object... I was dead. Our parents love both of us, but Dad especially loves his little girl. When he found out I had raped her... I couldn't bear to think of what might happen. Whatever punishment I thought up, Dad's would be worse. Of course, worse than that, would be the shame I would have to carry the rest of my life. I would never live it down. I waited, miserably, for Chrissie to start yelling and screaming. "Mmm," said Chrissie, sleepily. "Billy?" "Uhuh?" I didn't DARE say more, or even move. My prick was still half-in and half-out of Chrissie's sucking little vagina, though by now it was limp as a noodle. If I pulled out, though, there would probably be a flood of cum all over the bed, not only making a mess, but drawing attention to the very fact that I had not only fucked my little sister, but I had ejaculated my incestuous sperm inside her as well, possibly even getting her pregnant. I was caught, either way. "Billy," repeated Chrissie, "are you fucking me?" "Uhuh," I replied again, waiting for the screams and accusations to start. "Oh," murmured Chrissie sleepily, "that's what I thought." Then my sexy little sister snuggled her cute little butt back into my stomach and went back to sleep.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/05/sleeping.txt
70,508	Caesar	Disabled Powers	Yvonne knew what she wanted and was going to get it. Also, she was feeling guilty about her judgment, yet most of her didn't care. Especially her sexual nerves. Since the day she had been introduced to Sport, her new son-in-law-to-be, she hadn't been able to think about anything else. Her midnight fantasies were about the young man, her daydreams, and even her imagination while alone with her husband-to-be were all about Sport. In fact, she had not been able to achieve an orgasm since that fateful day, by her own hand or another's. She wore very fashionable clothing, with expensive lingerie underneath. Didn't teenagers like stockings and garter belts? She also wore those. In fact, when she finally stood before the young disabled man, her nerves almost gave out. His eyes looked deep into her soul and seemed to know what she wanted. Yvonne had a long impressive speech prepared, while choreographing her physical movements to seduce the young man. But when finally confronted with him, her plans were destroyed. She couldn't talk, nor even pretend embarrassment, but just looked into those eyes of his, as if pleading for sympathy and attention. Without a word being spoken, she began to hurriedly remove her clothing. None of her movements were purposely seductive or enjoyable; she just took off her clothing. Sport's eyes followed her hands as she undid every button of her dress, then as she unhooked the front clasp of her bra. She saw the pleasure in his eyes as her long still-thin legs came into view, revealing stockings, high heels, and a garter belt. All white. She hadn't worn panties, since giving early glimpses of her bare muff was part of her original plan. A plan set to get him within her clasp. Yet, somehow, the situation was reversed. Yvonne knew she was his, totally. She would do anything he asked and greatly anticipated his attention. As she stood there gently shivering and running her nails along her hips, silently allowing the young man his eyeful. The pretty nurse, Traci, came into the room. Yvonne cursed the interruption and attempted to hide her crotch and breasts with her hands. Instead, Sport smiled and waved the young woman over. Both sets of eyes appraised her again. Traci bent over and whispered something into her young charge's ear. Sport nodded, yes. Traci calmly stepped up to Yvonne and looked deeply into her eyes before placing her lips upon the others. Her young strong hands came up and forced the older woman from hiding her near-naked body by placing the palms upon the swell of her ample breasts. Tongues were caressing the other, eyes closed and breath became uneven. It was the first time Yvonne had ever passionately kissed another woman. With Sport watching, it was also very enjoyable. "Dance for us, Yvonne!" It was spoken calmly, yet was a command. Traci disengaged herself from the woman and then went over to a chair and sat upon it, her legs wide apart exposing everything under her skirt. The older woman felt self-conscious about dancing naked for an audience; she never enjoyed her own nakedness. Yet her hips began to sway to a hidden music, her hands went to her hair, and her breasts gently bounced. She put all her sensuality into her body's movement, trying to get this young man's gaze of longing. It didn't take long before her own silent music began to stimulate her, between her legs moisture was running down her swirling thighs to collect at the top of her stockings. Her nipples were hard points, and the imagined breeze brought goosebumps to her pale skin. She would do anything for him! "Come and kneel before me." It took a few seconds for Yvonne's body to get used to its stillness before she moved towards the pleased-looking man. Still watching her every movement, Traci was shamelessly stroking her dark pink clitoris. "I want you to make me cum." His penetrating eyes pierced into hers, and she knew no objection. In fact, it was what she had fantasized and imagined for many days, to see, feel, and taste Sport's cock. The initial sight of it caused her heart to flutter and made her feel like a teenager again. Nor did she hesitate when his hard penis stood within her hands pointing straight up. Promptly she opened her mouth and inhaled his cock, determined to give the best she had ever given. Nothing else mattered to her but Sport's ultimate pleasure. When a hand slid into and down her raised bottom crack, she felt excitement and anger. Anger at being distracted from her desire to please her soon-to-be son-in-law. Expert fingers spread her blood-gorged outer lips, and two fingers pushed into her hot wet cunt hole, while a thumb rubbed the clitoris. It felt great, and she hadn't realized it, but this added sexual stimulation had heightened her oral ministrations upon the hard cock. She worked hard to please the excited young man. Yvonne groaned upon the throbbing cock, the pleasing fingers quickly accelerating her own impending orgasm, essentially giving her that added desire to taste the expected explosion inside her mouth. Her bottom was wiggling about, in time to the fingers digging in and out of her flesh, the thumb flicking the hard blood-gorged clitoris. Her super-heated and boiling wet sex made loud wet sounds, which could be heard over the moans of the older woman. She was nothing but cunt and mouth at that moment. Sport grasped his father's fiancée's head in his young strong hands and held her down, her lips within the patch of curly pubic hair, just as his first jerking of the powerful orgasm shot out of his dick. Yvonne took it all. In fact, she was only partially aware that hot sperm was shooting into the back of her throat, since her own powerful orgasm was sending electrical pulses throughout her body. The teenager allowed the pretty face to disengage from his cock, and it pressed into his inner thigh even as he shot the last of his cum upon the side of her face and open mouth. It was a delightful sight. Yvonne cried out as the last of her own orgasm shot throughout her body, removing control of her own muscles from sheer exhaustion. Dimly, she was aware of being placed on her back, and then someone laying upon her. A voice spoke softly near her face, "Give me some...", it was Traci. A moist tongue began to lick the cum splats upon the side of her face, cleaning her like a dog. When the warm sperm was removed and only saliva remained, the nurse used her fingers to pull open the abused mouth before again using her tongue to search for more of Sport's cum. The show was unexpected and very exciting to watch. Sport saw that his nurse was acting as an addict looking for her next fix. She was shivering in anticipation and would savor every gob of cum she found before swallowing. Traci had never tasted her young charge's cum, but every since that first day when he inquired if she would remove her underwear, she had yearned for the taste. Watching others enjoy what she had desired had heated her desire and even jealousy. If she had to wait for the taste of his cock directly, then she would at least get a taste of the treasure he would leave behind. Several minutes went by before Traci was finally satisfied that all remaining evidence of Sport's discharge was finally devoured, by either woman. She lay upon the naked and exhausted body, her face placed upon one soft breast as she continued to lick her lips for several minutes later.	null	Chapter XIIX	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/05/power18.txt
70,701	Cynthia Keller	VAN SEX	You know what happened to me the other night? I went out drinking with Jill, a friend of mine, and we ran into some guys we know. We sat around drinking and talking for a long time. I don't drink much, and after a while, I was really, really drunk and feeling funny. I suspect that there was something potent other than alcohol in that drink. I asked Jill to take me home, but she asked me to wait. In a few minutes, I realized that I couldn't move a muscle, not even to open my eyes. Jill looked at me and said, "Oh, shit! Karen's passed out cold. Well, I've got to take her home. Help me get her to the car." Jill wasn't exactly sober herself. She wasn't far from joining me collapsed in a chair. I was hoping she wouldn't try to drive, but I didn't want to stay here. Finally, one of the guys suggested that they drive us home. One guy would take Jill's car and take her home. The other guy would take me home in his van, then drive over to pick up his friend. Had Jill not been drunk, she wouldn't have taken these strangers up on their offer, but not wanting to wake up her brother to come get us, she agreed. I didn't like this idea, but I had no way of expressing my opinion. One of the guys picked me up in his arms and walked out carrying me. He put me in the back of his van, and we drove off. After he had driven for about twenty minutes, he tried to wake me up. After about five minutes, he gave up trying. He drove for about ten minutes more, and I knew I was in trouble. He turned off his engine, and it was real quiet. No city noises, just crickets chirping. We were out in the middle of absolutely nowhere. I felt a hand on my thigh as my dress was raised up over my waist. He gasped. I cursed myself for having worn the sheer pink panties I had on. You could see every hair, every detail of my pussy through them. Maybe he would just look, jerk off, then take me home. No such luck. I felt his hands slide down my hips as he took my panties and pulled them down to my ankles and off my feet. Then I felt both hands on my thighs as he spread them apart as far as they would go. I still hoped he would get his rocks off by looking. But then I felt his fingers spread my pussy lips. I hoped he wouldn't stick anything in me, because my twat was bone dry. All he was doing, though, was rubbing my clit. I could take that if he didn't get too heavy-handed. Although I was paralyzed, my body responded. I felt my cunt get wet and my clit begin to get stiff. That was great. My body had as much as given him a written invitation. After he had me good and wet, he stuck two fingers in my hole, twisted them around, and started finger-fucking me while he continued to massage my clit. This wasn't as bad as I dreaded. My juices had me good and wet, so I was lubricated for his fingers. The finger-fucking continued forever, it seemed like. He kept thrusting and jamming his fingers in me. Then he added another finger, then another. I would be sore in the morning, not from the friction, but he was stretching the hell out of me. I wouldn't have thought I could take three fingers, much less four. I was just hoping he wouldn't go overboard and try to go all the way with five fingers and try to fist-fuck me. Finally, I felt the first tingle of an orgasm building. My body was betraying me. I didn't want this, I didn't want his fingers in me, and I most certainly didn't want an orgasm from it. No luck, however. I felt a wrenching wave emanate from my twat and radiate over my whole body. Before that wave had dissipated, another one came, then another and another. Each wave was stronger than the one before. Such orgasms normally would have had me screaming and gasping, but I still couldn't so much as twitch a muscle. Finally, the last orgasm rolled over me. I thought I would blow my ovaries out through my tightly filled fuckhole. I'll have to admit, though, his timing was perfect. At the precise moment of my last orgasm, he withdrew his fingers with a sucking popping noise. My hole felt cold on the INSIDE! My cunt had been stretched so wide that it didn't close when he pulled his fingers out. My pussy was ruined for life. I hoped he was finally finished with me, but boy, was I wrong! I hadn't thought of the point that, with both hands busy on my cunt, he hadn't had the chance to get his own rocks off. He rolled me over onto my stomach, spread my legs, and slid a cushion under my hips. My asshole was exposed this way, what with my ass cheeks spread. I felt a little insistent prod at my asshole, which was good and tight. But, I felt something push past the initial tightness and slide its way easily into my rectum. It had to be his finger, greased with something. After he wiggled his finger in my ass and finger-fucked me for a few seconds, I realized what he was doing. He was greasing me up for something big. I had never had any guy express any interest in my ass before. And except for one incident in my childhood when, out of curiosity, I stuck my own finger in my ass during a night-time exploration, I was an anal virgin. I figured that was about to end. I guess I was no longer fearing or hoping anything except that I could take his dick or whatever he was going to stick up my ass. I just wanted him to hurry and finish up without hurting me and take me on home. I felt his weight on my back, and felt something huge poking at my anus. It spread my tight little hole wider and wider. I thought that I would split wide open, but surprisingly enough, his pole just slipped right in. His grease job worked well enough, but he was huge, though. I thought he would never quit sliding in his rod. He was going deeper and deeper. Why couldn't he have a little dinky prick like all the guys I've ever been in the sack with? Finally, I felt his hips slam against my ass cheeks. That meant he was all the way in. I guessed now my cunt wasn't the only thing stretched out of shape. The bad part was, I liked it! Like I said, I was an anal virgin. I never thought that there could be any pleasure in getting rammed from behind like this. After a couple of slow strokes, he started pumping with a vengeance. His balls slapped against my cunt. Although I had expected the tightness of my ass to make this painful, it didn't happen. The reaming I was getting didn't hurt at all. As a matter of fact, like I said, I was starting to get to like anal sex. My body was beginning to flood with a warm, deliciously full feeling. His tool easily slid in and out. I was getting jostled and shaken with each stroke, getting shoved across the floor of his van. If I could have moved, I don't think I would have. I was afraid if I moved, it WOULD hurt. Finally, as luck would have it, just as I felt the first twinges of my first anal orgasm begin to develop, he groaned, jammed his tool into my ass, held it in and tried to grind it in even deeper, pulling on my hips the whole time. I felt his pole spasming, hosing my bowels down with his gush of come. Then he just relaxed and laid on top of me. His prick softened, shrank, and whatever residual tightness my violated ass had left squeezed him out. I was frustrated with this. I had changed my mind about an orgasm. As little as I wanted this anal rape, I would have at least liked to have gotten an orgasm from it. He finally put my clothes back on me, and took me home. He put me on my bed at my apartment, clothes and all still on me. One thing, though. Before he left, he raised my skirt, reached down in my panties, stuck his fingers between my cuntlips, and gave my clit one last caress. I fell asleep shortly after that. When I woke up the next morning, I remembered my anal pleasure and my anal almost orgasm. I finished myself off, anally speaking, with a huge dildo Jill gave me as a gag gift. I use that dildo in my ass a lot now. I have seen the light of anal sex!	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/04/vansex.txt
70,875	dale10	Joey and the Coach - 18	Young Sam Jordan was not only abused and battered, but confused. No one seemed to care about stopping the sexual molestations happening at the school. Everywhere he turned, he encountered more perversion. "Spread your legs, Sam, and let me see your cock and balls," the headmaster ordered a second time. Why should Sam Jordan allow his headmaster to see his private parts? What right did he have to look at Sam's penis and scrotum? Sam couldn't fight it, though. He had already been gang-raped and was emotionally a total wreck. He sat there in the chair in his shirt with his pants and underpants down around his ankles and spread his legs. The headmaster reached down and grabbed Sam's flaccid dick. "Well, this explains a lot, young man. Your cock is so underdeveloped; no wonder you are a faggot. You could never fuck a girl with a pencil prick like that. No wonder you make up stories about the older boys in the school. You are jealous of their manhood. You are jealous of their big dicks." "Sir, that's not true. I'm as big as the other freshmen boys... and..." The headmaster squeezed the boy's prick and balls until he stiffened in the chair and held his breath. "Oh, so you have been looking at the dicks of the other freshmen boys, huh? Like to hang around the locker room, do you, so you can watch the boys walk out of the showers with their big dicks swinging? Sam Jordan, you are a fucking filthy pervert. And no doubt you seduced those seniors. It's not difficult. Those boys walk around here all day with swollen balls just needing a dump, and no girls to satisfy them. I feel sorry for them. And along comes a cock-hungry little faggot like you, and you make a play for them. No wonder they give in to sin." "Sir, I swear to God it's not like that..." The headmaster pulled back his hand and slapped Sam hard in the nut sack. "Don't you dare use the Lord's name when we are talking about perverted fuck matters. You filthy little dick dump! Go on, make your dick hard for me. Show me what you've got. Or doesn't it even get hard? It's really more of a clit than a cock, isn't it? You're a little Clit Boy, aren't you? You heard me, pump that prick...let me see it hard." Crying heavily now, Sam began to yank at his flaccid dick. He was so scared and so confused, it didn't want to erect. The headmaster derided him and made fun of him. "Can't even get it hard, can you? What a fucking Twat. Maybe we ought to make you do this in front of the whole Freshman Class, show them how you can't even get a boner. Or maybe you need something up your pussy to get you hard. Is that it? Do you need some cuntal insertion in order to get turned on?" It was so fucking perverse. Teenage boy Sam Jordan sat there in the headmaster's office with his pants and underpants around his ankles, legs spread, pumping his teen dick, trying to get a hard-on to prove to the headmaster that he was normal. He tugged and yanked on his prick harder than he ever had...it got a bit thicker. He chewed his lower lip and squeezed his teary eyes shut and tried to think of girls while he pulled on his fuckmeat. Maybe he was queer. He thought of Brian Sheridan, and for some fucking reason, his dick started to get hard. Oh, Jesus...he didn't want to be queer. He didn't want to be a fucking faggot. His ass hurt so badly from the fuckings he had endured, and more cum leaked out of his hole and puddled on the chair seat beneath him. "It's hard, sir, it's hard..." he said, trying to end this nightmare. He spread his legs to show his stiff prick to the headmaster. "Oh, wait, I'll get my magnifying glass so I can see it!" The headmaster laughed. "You think you can fuck a girl with that? Any girl in this town would laugh you right out of her bed. I didn't tell you to stop jerking. Beat that meat, boy, prove to me you're a man. I wanna see you shoot a fuckload." "OOOOHHHHHHHH!!" Sam groaned, pumping his hard prick and crying and trying to protest that his dick wasn't that small, but unable to get the words out. He knew Brian and the guys all had much bigger pricks, but they were seniors, and they really stretched his asshole with their big fucking sausages and hurt his jaw with their slabs of teen fuckmeat. "Come on, you fucking slut, beat that wiener. Show me you can at least cum. Or are you too much of a wuss to make any baby batter? PUMP PRICK BOY, PUMP PRICK! DO IT NOW!!" Sam Jordan spread his legs wider and pumped prick for his headmaster. Suddenly, he jerked in the seat like an electric charge was shooting through him. He groaned and grunted, and fuck splat shot from his pisshole and covered his stomach...two, three, four spurts of dicksnot. Sam's tits rose and fell as his chest heaved with the exertion of a teen boy orgasm. His nipples grew to small sensitive points. His tummy fluttered, and the cum ran down into his belly button and clotted in his cock hair. His fat balls sagged and grew loose, resting on the chair. His dick became rubbery and leaked after spooge. He sat there totally defeated. "You are a fucking Faggot, Sam Jordan, and I have a good mind to not only expel you, but to tell your family that you seduced boys in the school. Now you get dressed and get the fuck out of here. I'll keep these photos of the Coach and check on the matter, but I am fairly certain these are doctored pictures, perhaps created by your perverted dirty fucked up cuntmind." The headmaster turned away. He would have loved to fuck and torture the boy, but he knew he had to deal with the Coach's problem first. If Brian Sheridan and the other boys knew about the photos of Joey and the Coach, something had to be done, and quickly. Joey, hardly able to move, his young body wracked with pain, and his only pal Mike huddled in a corner near the top of the third-floor stairwell. "Now when the Coach comes jogging by, we run out and throw him over the railing." Both boys wore black masks and black gloves. They didn't want to leave fingerprints. They heard a thumping on the stairs and then saw the head of the coach, and then his body dressed in a skimpy pair of running shorts. His hard, lean body glistening with sweat rippled with the dim hallway lights and seemed to undulate and twist like the torso of an animal on the hunt. "Now!" Joey whispered as the Coach jogged past the boys. They rushed out and grabbed the unsuspecting man and shoved him toward the banister, where he would fall three floors to his death! Continued in part 19...	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/26/joey18.txt
70,934	Lanka Cream	Daddy Helps Out	Year 9 was going on its annual camping trip. All of the 24 girls were very excited, especially Nicole and Anneharred, as they would be sharing the same tent. There would be 2 girls per tent. Nicole is 14 years old and Anneharred is 6 months older, having just turned 15. They are the best of friends, in fact, 'very special' friends indeed. These annual camping trips were legendary, and this year should be great as they were going to an isolated spot 3 hours' drive out of the city and in a huge gorge beside a river. It was wild country inside a national park and required a 2-hour walk with packs at the end of an unsealed road before they reached the camp spot. It was a spot which Nicole knew well as she had been there before with her father, who was an avid walker. This time, daddy was coming along as the male escort to assist the 2 female teachers, as the male teacher who was supposed to accompany them had fallen ill, and so the school had co-opted Nicole's father as he worked for himself anyway and could take the time off. Nicole was very proud of her 'Daddy' as he is very handsome and has a great physique because of his regular walking, kayaking and gym activity. Many of the girls in Nicole's class flirt with him on the bus as they are on the way to the wilderness area. Nicole and Anneharred think this is funny, although Nicole gets a little jealous too. They arrive at the national park, and the weather is glorious early summer weather. It is going to be a great 3 days. Most of the girls have never been wilderness walking before, so Nicole's father goes around checking their backpacks, adjusting them and having them take out and leave behind items which are not necessary. Many of these 14 and 15-year-old girls are very much 'young women' by now, and Nicole's father finds his cock swelling as he has to 'adjust' their backpacks. There is no shortage of C and D cup bra wearers amongst these giggling girls, who seem to deliberately move while he adjusts their packs, causing his hands to caress the sides of their full, ripe and firm young breasts. None of them have the fullness and sexuality, though, of his daughter's friend Anneharred, whom he has been lusting after since she was 13, nor indeed of his own daughter Nicole. They arrive at the campsite after much cajoling of many of the girls who found the long walk into the gorge very tough. The site is indeed beautiful. They are on a broad turn of the river where the gorge is about 300 metres wide. The river has formed a long deep pool at the point, with a sheer sandstone cliff on the far side, the river itself being about 100 metres wide, leaving a large sandy beach and ideal camping area about a metre above the river level. They set up camp, and Nicole's father is busy helping the girls set up their tents properly so they withstand any high winds or rain, which seems unlikely. They all then break for lunch, and then the girls go for a swim. Nicole's father has a great deal of trouble keeping his erection unseen, as he is greeted to the sight of 24 nubile 14 and 15-year-old 'young women'. Most of this class of Nicole's seemed to be very athletic and well advanced into puberty. He finds himself staring at many a pronounced pudenda, clearly outlined pussy lips, many a tuft of pussy hair accidentally poking outside tight swimming costumes and many swollen and erect nipples. He remains with his waist below water to hide his now raging hard cock, which has a will of its own as it yearns to plunge into some of those forbidden moist pussies. As they sit around the campfire that night, the 2 female teachers and Nicole's father mingle with girls. 'Daddy' finds that several of the girls let their legs rest against his as they sit side by side on logs or on the sandy ground. They are all still in short pants, and he finds his bare skin being rubbed by the bare skin of many of these 'young women'. Luckily the dark enables him to hide his erect, straining cock, but as well as he thinks, several of the girls notice and are seen whispering and giggling to themselves. He cannot wait to go back to his tent and wank off, putting a vision of one of these girls into his head as he does so, although it will likely be that of Anneharred. Still, that little Italian girl, Louisa, she is only 14 and a short 5'2", yet she has the most glorious voluptuous figure, her small frame being capped by a very full set of D cup tits. God, he could feed on them, he thinks. Bedtime comes, and everyone turns in. The girls all head off to their tents to whisper and gossip (and a few of them furtively 'play and cuddle' to satisfy the hormonal urges surging through their bodies). Nicole's father gives Nicole and Anneharred a kiss and a cuddle (relishing the feel of Anneharred's huge large breasts pressing against him) and enters his tent. On his sleeping bag, he finds 2 pairs of girls' panties and a folded note. It reads: "We both want you badly. Wait 30 minutes after lights out, and then we will come to you. We want you naked and blindfolded, lying face up waiting for us. Nothing will be said, no speaking. Keep your blindfold on as we don't want you to know whom we are." His cock springs to full attention. He does not know if this is 2 of the girls just playing a practical joke or not. He smells the panties. Both pairs smell of female pussy juice. His cock makes the decision, which is a rather foolish and dangerous one he knows, as there is a great chance it is 2 or more of the girls just playing a joke. What if they all come into his tent and find him naked, blindfolded and erect! It doesn't matter, his desire is so strong by now to plunge his fat 8" cock into warm wet flesh, rather than just 'mother Palmer' that he throws wisdom to the wind. After 30 minutes, Nicole's father is lying naked on his back, his fat 8" cock in full erection and leaking pre-cum in expectation of sinking into heaven soon. His tent is lit softly by a very small candle, which is burning in the corner. He hears the tent flaps rustling and hears the sounds of someone entering his tent. He steels himself for a scream or a break out of laughter, but there is only silence. There is a rustling of clothes being removed, and he cannot help but slowly stroke his cock. A soft hand grasps his hand and removes his hand from his cock. He thinks of every one of the 24 girls, wondering whose hand it is stroking his cock softly, erotically, lovingly. Then another pair of soft hands grabs his hand and he finds it placed upon a large firm soft breast. It is a heaving breast with a very hard and very large aroused nipple. He fondles that young tit. It is so lovely and soft and so large. It can only be one of 4 girls judging by its size, Louisa the little Italian girl, Kerry a big tall athletic girl who is a champion hockey player or....his own daughter Nicole and Anneharred her friend. He discounts Nicole and Anneharred and assumes it is Kerry and Louisa as they are friends and share a tent. His imagination and his cock go into full lustful action. He feels that large young breast being lowered to his lips; he feels a large nipple and opens his mouth. This large nipple is fed into his welcoming mouth, and he commences to suckle in frenzied lust. He hears the girl, whom he assumes is either Louisa or Kerry, sigh as he suckles and fondles. Then, his mouth is enveloped into warmth and wetness as soft lips and eager mouth swallow his throbbing cock. This goes on for 20 minutes. The girls change places, always seeming to keep him on the edge of cumming, but hold off. Then, his face is straddled by firm, soft but strong thighs. He smells pussy and then he feels a thick thatch of soft pussy hair brush his face. He opens his mouth and is greeted by wet, engorged pussy lips, pussy lips that are throbbing like his cock. He tastes that young cunt and kisses those cunt lips like they were a mouth. After a few minutes, the girl lets out a soft sigh, her thighs stiffen and his mouth is flooded by pussy juice. Young pussy juice. It tastes divine, and he swallows hungrily. He is nudged aside and finds a naked young body lying beside him on her back. The other girl grabs him and guides him into position. He kneels between her open thighs.A soft hand grabs his cock and guides it to a wet, hairy cleft. 'Which one is it?' he thinks, 'Kerry or Louisa?' He thinks it is Louisa, as she seems the shorter of the two. Two soft hands grab his arse and pull him in. His fat, hard cock slides into a wet, warm embrace. His large, hard cock enters a wet, tight, and very aroused cunt. It seems to be sucking him in. He is surprised that she takes all of his 8 inches. He starts to thrust, to pull out and thrust in, to drive his cock home to cock ecstasy. A soft mouth encounters his mouth, and their tongues dart in and out of each other's mouths. He knows he has only a minute or two to go before his huge load of fertile spunk is unleashed. He cannot help himself and softly whispers, "I'm going to cum soon... going to cum... soon!" He continues to plunge his huge cock into this young girl, but more slowly to stave off cumming. He knows he cannot stop his orgasm now, it is too late, and he will shoot in a minute. Then, hands are at his blindfold, and it is whisked off. He looks down, and there beneath him, naked under him, with his cock plunging slowly in and out of her body, is a 14-year-old girl - it is Nicole, his very own daughter. His eyes open wide, but his powerful thrusts don't stop. "Daddy, daddy," she whispers, "fuck me, fuck your spunk into me, daddy. Please, daddy, fuck your sperm into me." Kneeling beside Nicole is Anneharred, who has her legs spread wide while her hand is frantically frigging her very wet, sopping, hairy pussy (it is a pussy he will be inside of soon enough). "Oh, baby, are you on the pill?" "No, daddy, I'm not, so give me all of your sperm. I don't care, I'd love to make you a baby." "Oh God! Oh God!" he gasps. But he cannot stop. The first thick gush of creamy, incestuous spunk, his sperm-laden, incestuous cream, spurts out of the eye of his cock and splashes into his daughter's receptive, fertile cunt. "Oh, yes! That's it, daddy, fuck me, fuck a baby into me, fill me with daddy sperm, lots of daddy sperm." He can only groan softly, very softly, as his body powerfully spasms with each thick spurt of his copious quantity of fertile, sperm-laden spunk. "I'm filling you up, little darling," he whispers softly, "filling you up with my hot, white, baby-making cream." His daughter thrusts her cunt up to meet her father's powerful thrusts of his sperm lance and looks at her father with lust and hunger, "Oh, yes, daddy, fill me up, then fill me up again." He does, until their combined juices leak out of Nicole's gorgeous, wet, hairy pussy. But nothing is wasted as Annharred dives between both their thighs when he pulls out and licks off both Nicole's father's still throbbing cock and Nicole's widely gaping and gently throbbing pussy. She loves the taste of Nicole's pussy juice mixed with her daddy's spunk. 'Tastes like marzipan,' Anneharred thinks. In 10 minutes, Nicole's daddy is back to full size and hardness. He climbs between the powerfully athletic, wide-open thighs of Anneharred and plunges his invading cock into his second underage pussy of the night. While riding her hard, his mouth suckles on one of her marvelous DD cup tits. They are gorgeous tits with large, puffy areola. As he takes his third suck, a spurt of milk comes into his mouth. He looks up at Anneharred in dismay. "Yes, I know," she whispers. "I'm lactating because of the brand of pill I'm on. I've changed it, but I will continue to lactate for another 3 or 4 weeks before it stops." He looks at his daughter Nicole, and she says, "Nice, isn't it, daddy? I've been feeding from Anneharred for 2 weeks now, it's yummy." With that, Nicole joined her father and took Anneharred's other large tit in her mouth and proceeded to empty that huge milk jug while her daddy suckled hungrily on the other tit. He emptied another large load of fertile spunk, this time into Anneharred, while Nicole grabbed his balls and squeezed them gently, helping to milk all the sperm out. Both girls got pregnant that night, but it will take another story to see how Nicole, Anneharred, and Nicole's father got themselves out of that predicament.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/26/dadhelps.txt
70,953	dale10	Joey and the Coach - 19	Young Sam Jordan didn't even pack all of his belongings. He just threw whatever he could find into his backpack and headed for the door. He wasn't even sure where he was going, but he knew he couldn't stay here. In his bag, he had copies of the pictures of the coach molesting Joey, and perhaps he would take them to the police or to a newspaper. He almost ran down the hall toward the big front door to the school when he heard yelling and shouting above him. He looked up to see three figures struggling on the third-floor landing, then one of them tumbled over the banister and came hurtling through the air to crash into the marble floor at Sam's feet. Sam threw his hands to his face. The nightmare still was not over. He looked down at the twisted, crumpled body of a fifteen-year-old student named Mike. The Coach had caught them coming at him out of the corner of his eye. He moved to one side just in time to avoid the heavy blow that would have sent him over the railing. His almost naked body was slick with sweat, and Joey's hands slid across his torso, brushing the big nipples. Mike's hands grabbed one arm and shoved. The Coach twisted and backed Mike against the rail. Joey behind him pushed on the Coach's back, and the coach forced Mike over the rail. Mike tumbled out into space and then down, his sweet handsome young body never had a chance against the hard floor three flights down. Now the coach twisted again, and Joey went over the banister, but managed to hang on with his fingers. He dangled there above Sam and the twisted remains of Mike. Joey had so little strength left because of what had happened to him earlier in the day that he knew he wouldn't last long. "Well, if it isn't my favorite little Cunt Boy," the coach beamed. Danger always excited him. It gave him a vicious hard-on. The front of his running shorts tented out. He reached down and pried the fingers of one of Joey's hands off the rail. The boy now hung by one hand. The look of terror in his young face made the Coach's dick throb and leak. "Thought you'd get me, did you. I like that. I respect that. It shows you've still got some spunk left in you. Don't worry, we'll fuck it out of you. Unless, of course, I let you fall. I can see the headlines now, 'Homosexual Love Double Suicide at Private School.'" "HELP ME! Oh God! Help Me!" Joey's voice was still raspy from all the dick he had sucked that afternoon. "Help you? Why the fuck should I help you? Didn't you fight me every step of the way. Did you suck dog dick willingly without making a fuss, No! I DON'T THINK SO. And now you want me to save your puking life? Let's just twist one more finger off the rail, you can hang by four, can't you?" "Oh God! Oh God, please, please, I'll do whatever you say, please!" "You will? Will you pose for our internet site for us without any trouble?" "Yes, oh help, please help me. I can't hold on..." "Will you work in the stables for us, cleaning up horse shit?" "Yes, yes, help me..." "Do you know how the boys who work in the stable clean up the horse shit, Joey? THEY EAT IT." "H-E-L-P ME! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!!" Joey felt his fingers sliding off the smooth rail. "They eat the horse shit, and they also have another job Joey, taking care of the horses' needs. Are you willing to suck horse dick Joey? Will you show all the trustees how well you can suck horse dick? Will you do that if I save you?" "Oh God yes, I promise. I swear I'll do it. Help me!" "And Joey, will you be a good little cunt and take those big fat juicy horse cocks up your stretched-out boypussy?" "Ugh! Anything, anything!" "A boy your age has to learn Joey. You've been cock of the walk too long around this school. You need to learn humility, and I am the man to teach it to you. Now do we have a deal?" "OOOOHHH!" Joey's hand gave way, and he slid off the banister. But just as he started to fall, the coach reached down and grabbed the boy by the wrist. Joey was out of his mind with fear. "Do we have a deal, Prick Face?" "Yes sir!" "To make sure, we are going to have the words 'HORSE SUCKER' tattooed on your stomach and 'HORSE CUNT' tattooed on your ass cheeks. Is that all right Joey? Nice big bright tattoos telling everyone what you are." "Yes sir, I'll do whatever you want. Anything!" The Coach smiled. "We'll see. You know that big boa constrictor we've got in the science lab? Well, he just loves to crawl up inside boys' assholes. Let's go now and play with him, should we? Would you like that Joey?" "Oh yes, yes I'd like that. Please don't let me die. Please. I'd like that a lot. Anything you say Coach." And the Coach hauled Joey up over the rail. "We'd better call the police about poor Mike's suicide. Some boys, especially faggots, can't stand the pressure of a College Prep school. You'll testify that Mike was always coming on to you, wanting you to let him suck your dick and begging you to fuck his ass. "You'll tell the police how you would come back to your room to find Mike sucking on your dirty jockstraps. How he'd beg to clean out your used rubbers when you'd fuck a girl. That will keep it out of the papers pretty much. Even they can't print shit like that." Then the Coach looked down and saw young Sam Jordan standing in the foyer below. "We have to do something about that boy!" Arloe was the Coach's assistant. He had graduated from the school a while back. His grades were shitty, but the Coach had gotten him through because Arloe had one sterling quality. He was a sick motherfucking sadist. He was currently working on Sam Jordan. "Tried to get away, huh Sam? That calls for some attitude adjustment." He put his big naked foot on Sam's bare chest and pushed. Sam was tied to one of the school's big old wooden doors. "Coach says we have to change your attitude. Get you to want to stay here and keep your mouth shut, except of course when it's sucking dick!" Arloe had used his own stripped shirt to choke Sam into submission. The poor freshman boy had no chance to fight back. "Coach says we can make you the School Cunt. You know what that is? Some of the senior jocks love to have a regular boy pussy to help them relax after big games. Just think, you'll have the pleasure of helping our jocks score big this year. You'll be available for them to fuck in the ass or mouth any time they want." Now Sam understood why Brian and the others were so quick to rape his young ass, they had done it to boys before. The whole school was corrupt. "Coach also says you can help me take care of the dogs, cause Joey who was supposed to have that job will be busy with the horses. I just hope your small ass can take it. Well, don't worry, sleeping with a fourteen-inch dildo up it every night will stretch it out in no time. "That's what coach made me do when I was a freshman, and you can see it didn't hurt me any. But the best part, little Sammy, the best part is that Coach says you can be my toilet. It's my absolute favorite thing to do with a boy. I never use a real toilet if I can help it, not when I have a boy's mouth around." So things at the school were back to normal. Oh, there was some to-do about Mike's suicide, but after a number of boys testified that the dead kid was a flaming faggot who drooled over their dicks in the dorm and locker room, even Mike's high-profile father wanted to keep things quiet. With tears in his eyes, he actually thanked the school for keeping it out of the papers. Just to cement things for good, the Coach showed Mike's father photos of Mike fucking Joey in the ass in their dorm room "Some boys are just rotten from the word go..." the Coach said, one arm around Mike's father's shoulder. So Joey goes to the stable each day after his classes and takes care of the horses. On weekend evenings, he does special horse shows for the trustees. You'd be amazed at how much horse dick that boy can take up his young ass. Sam Jordan pretty much belongs to Arloe and is fucking ruined for life. Oh yes, the headmaster fucked him fifteen or twenty times before he turned him over to the sadistic Arloe. Arloe makes him sleep in the kennel with the dogs and service them with his pussy any time the dogs need it, which, considering there are ten dogs, is pretty often during the night. Sam's grades have gone to hell, but the coach fakes them. The boy doesn't even really go to class anymore. The other boys mostly think he transferred schools. Sam eats canned dog food and spends most of his time on a leash.But the best part of Sam's new life is that he gets to be Arloe's personal toilet. Arloe urinates and defecates in Sam's mouth. How many fourteen-year-old boys can say they have had such adventures? And the Coach? Well, the Coach is on the lookout for a new playmate. Do you have a boy you'd like to send to his school?	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/26/joey19.txt
71,152	Karen	Yvette	Yvette had just received a brochure from Denmark, a brochure depicting and describing almost every conceivable act between two women. This brochure had come from the most notorious lesbian brothel in all of Europe. After reading and looking at the brochure for two days, Yvette packed a bag, drew her meager savings out of the bank, and purchased a ticket to Copenhagen. She was going to see whoever ran this brothel, to see if she could work there. If she was unable to work there, at least she would be able to employ the girls that worked there. Within a few hours, she was flying to Copenhagen. Yvette went through customs and soon asked directions to this infamous lesbian brothel, and the cab driver quickly escorted her there. Once there, Yvette steeled herself before opening the door. Asking directions of the door woman, Yvette was soon seated before the madam who ran the establishment. "Hello, I am Madam Helga. What may I do for you?" Yvette blushed, "I'd like to work for you!" Madam Helga didn't bat an eye, "We don't get many American ladies here. American ladies think sex is something only done at night behind closed doors, most of the time with lights out. I have several openings for girls, but none for an American girl." "Madam Helga, I speak four different languages, and I was raised in France. When I was 14, my family moved to the states," Yvette outlined her history. "How old are you now, my dear?" Helga asked. "Twenty-three." "And you're French? Not American?" It seemed as if Helga's interest picked up. "I am French by birth," Yvette noticed Madam Helga's interest picking up. "I was born in Amiens. I've known about your establishment ever since I was a little girl, my mother used to come here. There is very little about this business that I don't know and love doing. I will do ANYTHING!" The Madam raised an eyebrow, "Anything? That says a whole lot!" "Anything!" Yvette restated. Madam locked her desk drawer and stood up, "Perhaps I should take you around the rooms and let you see just what goes on here. Then you may leave, which I'm sure you will after you see what the girls are doing." Yvette stood to allow the Madam to pass. Madam led Yvette upstairs, past a couple of big female guards, and into a room lined with black windows. "I use these windows to check on my customers from time to time as well as check on my girls. These are one-way windows so I can see into the room without the customers knowing I'm watching." She flipped a switch which lighted up the adjoining room. In this room, there was a 17 or 18 year old girl bound spread-eagle to a heavy cross beam, and she was being strapped heavily. She had welts on her ass, down the back of her legs, across her breasts and down her stomach to her front thighs. At a glance, it would appear that this girl was one solid welt. The lady doing the strapping began striking the girl with upward blows, landing them on the girl's spread pussy, which made her twist and jump with each blow. "Are you willing to undergo this? I have several lady customers that love to strap a young girl," Madam asked with a faint smile. "I have felt this several times," Yvette's eyes glued to the scene. Madam Helga switched the window off. "Here's something you've probably never experienced," and she flipped a switch on the adjoining wall and a room was instantly visible. A young girl was submitting to a variety of weights hung on her pussy lips, hanging down and stretching her pussy lips out at least four inches! The woman who had hung the weights on the girl's pussy lips was now lashing the young girl's breasts with a cane. Yvette knew how much a cane hurt, she had felt this several times; it hurt worse than any kind of whipping or spanking. As the lady swung the cane at the young girl's breasts, it made the weights swing back and forth, cutting deeper and deeper into the thin membrane of the girl's pussy lips. There were tears in her eyes, but she had no choice but to remain still as a gag had been pushed into her mouth. There was no sound, this girl would have to endure this vicious caning. "You like this?" Madam watched the caning. "That poor girl. I would willingly go into that room and take her place," Yvette said. "You might just have to do that, in time, if you work for me," Madam switched her window off. "But tell me, what really turns you on? Something you haven't seen yet?" Yvette blushed furiously. "Oh!" Madam Helga grinned, "the way you're blushing, I'd guess you are into something very nasty!" Still blushing, Yvette nodded her head. "Are you a toilet-mouth?" Madam Helga knew good and well what the answer would be. Yvette dropped to her knees and hugged Madam Helga's legs and gazed up into her face, "Yes, Madam Helga, I am a toilet mouth. A real human toilet. Please let me work for you and arrange for ladies to come in and use my mouth!" "To tell you the truth, I could use another toilet girl. I have several ladies that like to use toilet girls. But before I agree to hire you, perhaps we should go upstairs, that's where all my toilet girls work. Then you may decide against working here. Some of the ladies get pretty gross with the girls." "I can take it Madam, I love verbal degradation!" Yvette urged the Madam. "Come along then and I'll show you things you've never seen before," and the two of them ascended another stairway into another black-windowed room. "Here you will see some of my dirtiest girls at work. At the present, there are two different rooms that have this going on as we speak. Would you like to see these rooms?" "Oh yes, Madam Helga, very much!" Yvette bubbled. Madam Helga flipped on a switch and instantly a room came into view. At first glance, it might appear that a young girl, no more than 16 was eating another woman's pussy. Her face was buried between the woman's legs at the moment, but she soon raised her head to reveal a mouthful of filthy shit. "This lady likes for a young girl to shit in her cunt and then eat it back out. Have you ever done that?" Madam Helga asked. "No!" Yvette was watching the young girl chewing up the shit. "You're really going to get a surprise now." Madam Helga flipped the switch off and reached for another. Instantly another room came into view and it showed two women and a very young girl. "That girl is only ten. Her name is Sonia and the woman on her left is her mother, Francine. Francine gave birth to that girl when she was only fourteen. To pay for this girl's upkeep, she had to take a job here. Recently, Francine brought her little girl here to work as she works, as a toilet-mouth. Strange, isn't it? But then again, we European women have a very different attitude about sex. We Europeans accept sex far more openly than the girls and women of the United States. Therefore, you will see a lot of variations of human sexuality." Yvette was watching the mother and daughter chew up the big turd. Lying facing each other on their stomachs, slowly they devoured the brown fruit. "Does this make you hot? Look at that other woman. She's rubbing her clit like it was steel!" Helga laughed and switched off the switch. "Yes Madam Helga, that makes me hot. Please let me work for you," Yvette begged. "You mean as my personal toilet? Or for other ladies as well?" Helga smiled as she brushed Yvette's cheek. "I would be your personal toilet if you like, but I'm afraid you couldn't produce enough for me!" "Just how much would you want?" Madam Helga questioned. "I would like for you to arrange a session of TEN women for me, at one time!" Yvette blanched. "There's no way you could eat that much! You see, Yvette, ladies that come in for that service often save it up for four or five days! It might be very difficult for these ladies to save up that much, but they really get their money's worth!" "Four or five days?" Yvette turned red. "Yes bitch, four or five days! I think you should start with just one lady first. Then if you want more of that nasty stuff, I'll arrange it. By the way, are you a good fister? Have you taken a fist?" Madam Helga turned her rump to Yvette. "You?" Yvette couldn't believe what she was seeing. "That will be your last test. To see if you're a good fister. But before we go back down to my office, let me show you another room." Madam Helga flipped on another switch and in this room was a big woman, at least 5'10" and weighing close to 200 pounds. She was fisting a girl who could have not been over 12 years of age. She had her hand and arm buried in this girl's ass almost to her elbow! "That poor girl! She must be in terrible pain!" Yvette gasped. "That girl is Danelle, and she loves to be fisted in the ass! Here, let me turn up the volume so you can hear." Helga turned a knob. "Oh yesssss!" Danelle could be heard saying. "Pound my ass!" "Little bitch! I've already pounded your ass for thirty minutes! It's time I pulled my hand out and made you clean up all the mess on my arm!" "Ooooh, just a little longer!" Danelle could be heard saying. "After you've cleaned my hand and arm up, maybe, just maybe I'll shove it back in!" "Thank you Mistress, thank you!" The heavy-set woman withdrew her hand, scraping along the slippery bowel walls and withdrew a handful of slimy shit which she held up to the girl. "Eat it, little cunt. I like to see a girl eat her own shit!" Madam Helga flipped the switch off. "Ready for your last test?" "Madam... I've never fisted a woman in the ass," Yvette said. "Does this mean I don't get the job?" "We'll see," Helga turned and walked out the door. "I'll teach you all about it." "Thank you Madam," Yvette mumbled. Once back in Madam Helga's office, Yvette was greeted by the sight of this beautiful woman undressing before her very eyes. While previously she had paid little attention to the woman's figure, now she was all eyes. "Take your clothes off too," Madam Helga smiled warmly. "Does my body excite you?" "Oh yes, very much!""You are a lovely woman," Yvette began, discarding her own clothing. Madam Helga knelt on a hassock. "First, you must show me what kind of ass-licker you are. Get down on your knees and start licking my bathroom hole!" With a moan, Yvette dropped to her knees and sunk her face between the moons of Madam Helga's ass, driving her tongue into that warm, puckered hole. Yvette licked at Madam Helga's asshole for several minutes when the door opened, and another elegantly dressed woman came in. "I see you're getting your asshole worshipped. Is she doing a good job?" "Yes, she's doing beautifully, Mrs. Gjork. She just came to me, wanting to work for me. Introduce yourself to Mrs. Gjork, Yvette." Blushing like a schoolgirl, Yvette drew her face from out between Helga's ass cheeks, but managed to say 'Hi' in a very soft tone. "Look at her blushing. How wonderful. Your girls have all become immune to us ladies and our desires," Mrs. Gjork brushed Yvette's cheek with a gloved hand. "She's blushing because of her desire... she wants to be one of my toilet girls!" Madam Helga spoke up as she wiggled her ass in Yvette's face. "But before I hire her, I was getting a sample of her tongue and then teach her how to fist a woman." "You've never fisted a woman?" Mrs. Gjork asked Yvette. "Knowing Madam, I know she wants to teach you how to fist a woman's ass. Right, Helga? Yvette, fisting a woman is like taking hold of her heart. You will feel every little pulse in her bowels as it wraps around your hand and arm." "Sonia and Francine are busy right now, Mrs. Gjork. Would you like one of my other girls?" Madam Helga asked. "Do you mind if I use Yvette here? It thrills me to see a girl blush the way she is blushing," Mrs. Gjork asked. "I don't think so, at least for the time. I'll let you have Danelle for half price, if you like," Helga offered. "Well, all right, Helga, but I would have loved browning Yvette's mouth real good. And watching her eat it all. I haven't shit for three days now. I'm walking sideways, it feels like so much!" Madam Helga laughed, "Oh, all right, you can use my newest addition, Yvette. Are you ready to start your new job?" "You mean I'm hired?" Yvette asked excitedly. "Yes, you're hired. You two go on up to room number #6. Now get out of here and let me dress. I'll come up later to watch her," Helga waved the two away. Mrs. Gjork took Yvette's hand, and they walked off together. When they entered room #6, she asked, "Have you ever eaten a woman's shit?" "Yes, Mrs. Gjork, several times!" Yvette could not stop blushing. Mrs. Gjork began undressing. "Several times? Do you enjoy that rotten taste?" Yvette hid her face in her hands..."Yes!" "Take your hands away from your face, I can't see all those beautiful blushes!" Yvette dropped her hands. "And you want to eat my shit, don't you? All that foul-tasting filth that comes out of my asshole like a long brown rope... stinking like a sewer!" "Yes!" Yvette admitted, "I like the way it smells too!" "Of course you do. You're a filthy girl, Yvette. But let me tell you about my shit. You already know I haven't shit in three days, but during these three days, I have really stuffed myself! Most of that shit up my ass is very foul, it will be contaminated from being up there all this time and be smelling to high heaven. But you want it anyway, don't you?" "Use me as a human toilet!" Yvette began undressing. "I'll use you like more than a human toilet. Did you ever see an unflushed toilet? Yellowed water and the shit breaking apart from being in the water so long? That's how your mouth will look! But first, lick my asshole and get it all wet so my shit can come out. When I save it up this long, it gets all dried out and hard, so I have a hard time shitting it out. But you like that, don't you, cunt, having to chew it many, many times just so you can get it down your toilet mouth. Lick it, start licking my dirty shit-hole!" "Yes, Mistress," Yvette dropped to her knees and began rimming Mrs. Gjork. "Ooooh YES!" Mrs. Gjork rasped. "You're VERY good at this! Does my asshole taste nasty?" "No, Mistress, it tastes sweet," Yvette mumbled. "Do you like the way my asshole smells?" Mrs. Gjork looked back. Yvette placed her nose up to Mrs. Gjork's asshole and inhaled deeply, "Yes, Mrs. Gjork, I love the way your asshole smells!" "You're just anxious for that nasty taste, aren't you, you filthy twat! But you just hold your nose there as I fart... inhale it deeply! Tell me what it reminds you of!" and Mrs. Gjork blew out a big fart. Yvette inhaled deeply, "It reminds me of shit! Let me have it... PLEASE!" Mrs. Gjork laughed at Yvette, "There is nothing as disgraceful as a girl begging for another woman's waste, her poop that has been decaying up in her bowels!" "It will be sweet! I just know it will! Dump in my mouth!" Yvette continued licking at the woman's asshole. "Just a fraction of an inch away from where your tongue is now, is some of that filthy stuff you want so much... but I'm not going to just dump it in your mouth, get me that platter over there," Mrs. Gjork pointed. "I want to watch you eating my filthy shit!" Yvette got up to get the platter and handed it to Mrs. Gjork. Mrs. Gjork placed the platter on a table and, climbing up, turned her back to Yvette. "Now you watch it all come out, every hideous and obnoxious inch of it! Have you had lunch yet? I hope not, it will make a wonderful meal for a girl who is so terribly dirty and filthy!" and Mrs. Gjork began to grunt. She grunted several times to get her turd started out, and finally, the blunt end of a massive turd was visible. "Can you see it yet?" "Yes, Mistress," Yvette licked her lips. Mrs. Gjork laughed again, "What a disgusting little twat you are, watching another woman shit and you're salivating! Hand me that wine glass over there, I'm going to have to pee, and there's no sense in it going to waste." Yvette handed the wine glass to Mrs. Gjork, and she filled it to within an inch of the top. "Watch it all come out now," Mrs. Gjork grunted again and started her massive turd out. "Mistress! It's so big!" Yvette exclaimed. "It's got to be at least two inches thick!" "I always shit this much when I come in here! You just keep watching! I've got a lot more to drop!" and the shit kept coming. The turd hung down at least nine inches before it broke off, but the shit kept coming, faster now and softer once Mrs. Gjork got past the firmer part. It kept breaking off and landing on the turd already lying in the platter. There was approximately 20 inches of turd on the platter now, but Mrs. Gjork did not stop there. She strained and pushed for all she was worth, bringing forth a soft, runny shit, like chocolate syrup, which covered her pile of shit already on the platter. Straining hard, Mrs. Gjork could not produce any more, so she stood up to look down at her pile of shit. "That's about normal for me if I keep putting it off," and she got down off the table. "Does that make you hungry?" "Yes, Mistress, I am a human toilet!" Yvette stated. "I want to eat your shit!" "Of course you do, you're a little shit-pig, and I can do anything with you now. Stinking shit, and it's making you hungry. First, I want you to lick up all that scum I dropped over that big turd!" "Thank you, Mistress," and Yvette leaned over the big pile and was about to start licking at it when Mrs. Gjork pushed her face down into the pile of shit and rubbed her face back and forth in it before she grabbed a handful of Yvette's hair and pulled her head up. "You're a real shit-face now, START EATING IT!" Mrs. Gjork pointed. Yvette lowered her shit-caked face into the pile of shit and bit off a big mouthful before raising up to start chewing it. "SHIT-EATER! That's disgusting!" Mrs. Gjork watched Yvette chewing her shit. "Flush it down your toilet throat!" Yvette swallowed. "Mistress Gjork, you don't allow me to taste it very much." "You want to taste it more? Taste that filthy shit? All right, cunt, chew it till you have nothing but a brown soup in your dirty mouth!" Mrs. Gjork said. Yvette leaned over and took another overly abundant amount in her mouth and raised her head and began to chew it and wallow it around in her mouth. "EAT SHIT. EAT SHIT." Mrs. Gjork rasped. "EAT MY STINKING SHIT!" Pulling her lips back, Yvette allowed Mrs. Gjork to watch her chewing up her stinking filth, watch it ooze between her teeth and come out of her lips to dribble a liquid stream down from the corners of her mouth and over her bottom lip. "Flush it! Flush it!" Mrs. Gjork ordered, and Yvette swallowed. "It is a great honor for me to wear your shit and eat it!" Yvette took another bite. "I can't stand this," Mrs. Gjork gasped. "A girl loving the smell and taste of my shit!" and she took Yvette's face in her hands and drove her tongue deep into Yvette's shitty mouth. "Push it out of your mouth, but hold it with your lips!" Yvette pushed the shit out of her mouth, and Mrs. Gjork started licking at it. She licked at it for about a minute before she bit off a piece and began to chew on it too. "Mistress!" Yvette garbled and rasped, "You're eating your own shit!" Mrs. Gjork swallowed, "Don't you tell any of the other girls that I did this with you. Take another bite!" Yvette leaned over the pile of shit and took a real big mouthful. Her cheeks bulged out with this mouthful, and she started chewing it as she gazed with wonder at Mrs. Gjork who was lying on her back beside her. "Chew it up real good and then put it in my mouth," Mrs. Gjork said. "You can have the next mouthful. Yvette chewed this big mouthful until it was lumpy and, leaning over Mrs. Gjork, sealed her lips to Mrs. Gjork's and slipped her shitty tongue into the woman's mouth. Mrs. Gjork actually sucked the slimy mess right out of Yvette's mouth and swallowed it as Yvette leaned over the pile and took another bite. "I forgot how delicious shit was!" Mrs.Gjork swallowed and got up to start licking Yvette's shit-covered face. "I'm more disgusting than you are, I'm eating my own shit! It tastes nasty and delicious at the same time!" Yvette picked up another piece and shoved it into Mrs. Gjork's mouth. "NO! No more! I might get hooked again!" Mrs. Gjork said, "The rest is for you." Yvette leaned over the pile, by now more than half gone, and bit off another big bit and smeared her face in the remaining pile. Turning to Mrs. Gjork, she began chewing and placed her face right up to Mrs. Gjork's face. "You disgusting bitch, you!" and Mrs. Gjork began licking at Yvette's face again. Together, they finished Mrs. Gjork's shit. "Remember, not a word of this to any of the girls here!" Mrs. Gjork began crying. Yvette took the woman in her arms and comforted her, wondering if Madam Helga had seen this from the viewing room. "Isn't it just wonderful to taste that poop from another woman's asshole?" "That shit didn't come from another woman's asshole! It came from my asshole!" Mrs. Gjork managed a smile. "Maybe I should get a job here... but that's another side of my life I don't want revealed. Let's get cleaned up some so I can return you to Madam Helga." Later that night, after Yvette had been assigned a room, Madam Helga came in. "I saw you and Mrs. Gjork from the viewing room. I would have never guessed that of Mrs. Gjork. She always uses my girls so vulgarly when she comes in. But it's now time for you to have lesson number two... fisting a woman, which Mrs. Gjork interrupted." "Madam Helga, I'm afraid to do that to you," Yvette cowered back against a wall. "I'm going to teach you all about it so you can fist any woman who comes in here and wants that form of pleasure." Madam Helga began undressing. "You mean some ladies find it pleasurable?" Yvette couldn't believe her ears. "There are lots and lots of ladies who enjoy this little diversion, including me. But first, take this jar of corn oil and smear it all over my asshole," Madam Helga turned her rump to Yvette. "Push some inside and then smear it all over your hand and up your arm!" "Up my arm?" Yvette questioned. "All the way up to your elbow, you're going in that deep!" "And that feels good?" Yvette was getting excited. "You'll see when I have one of the girls do it to you. Have you got your hand and arm greased up? Start with only one finger, work it in and out until you feel my rectum start to relax and then add a second finger. OK?" Yvette pushed one finger up Madam Helga's asshole and began moving it in and out. "Add a second finger now!" Helga directed and moaned as Yvette pushed a second finger in. Then a third and then a fourth. "Now fold your thumb over into your hand and rotate your hand back and forth, keeping steady pressure on my asshole!" Helga directed. Yvette was amazed to see Madam Helga's asshole swallowing her entire hand. "Do you feel you're at the bottom yet? You have reached my anal sling. Direct your hand towards my back, the rear of my rectum and it will slide around this sling. That's it, you've learned the biggest obstacle in fisting a woman's ass. Let your hand rest a moment before you start out again, but don't pull your hand back beyond that sling. This way you won't have to work back around that sling and you can really get deep in a woman's ass." Yvette was amazed that a woman could accept this much in her ass without feeling pain, so she waited for Madam Helga to let her know when to continue. Meanwhile, her pussy was getting wetter and wetter from this new game. "Go on deeper," Madam Helga directed. "Go in about three more inches and pull your hand back about two inches. In this way you'll work your hand deeper and deeper." Yvette pushed her hand in deeper and withdrew it slightly before shoving it back in. Deeper and deeper her fist went until she had reached her elbow. "This has to hurt you!" "It does hurt a little, but the pleasure I'm getting more than makes up for it. Shove on it deeper!" "I'm at my elbow!" Yvette exclaimed. "Use TWO hands!" Madam Helga was getting very excited now. "It can't be done!" Yvette gasped in astonishment. "That's impossible!" "You just do as I say!" Madam Helga demanded. "Start sliding the fingers of your other hand in my ass!" Yvette slid fingers, one by one into the big cavity until she had her whole second hand lodged up the woman's ass. "See, I told you this could be done. Now pull your hands out. I'd say you had professional training with this, you did very good. But remember that anal sling!" "I would have bet money that this wasn't possible!" Yvette exclaimed. "There are several women that come in here that want this, but more like to do it to another girl," Madam Helga explained. "I'll assign you to a room with another girl and give her orders to work on your asshole every night. Before long you will be able to take two hands just like I do!" "If you say so," Yvette submitted. "But for now, since you like eating shit so much, I'm taking you up to the toilet rooms. There won't be many ladies now as most of customers come in during the afternoon, but I do have several foreign ladies in here now." "Toilet rooms?" Yvette asked. "The toilet rooms are situated upstairs. You will be placed in a room that is 4x12 feet beneath several toilets. Ladies come in and use you as a human toilet! You will take all their piss in your mouth and drink as much of it as you can! After they stop pissing in your mouth, they will then shit in your open mouth. In front of these ladies is a downward tilted mirror so these ladies can watch you as you perform as a human toilet, a female toilet. You will be standing below their asses only about a foot and there is a foot-stool which you are to stand on to clean their ass after you've finished eating their shit. Now you MUST eat some from every woman that comes in or just lay down on the floor to allow these ladies to shit all over you!" "Is this a punishment area?" Yvette asked. "I do have girls serve in this area if they have been disrespectful of lady customers from time to time, but do you think you are the only girl I have that likes to eat shit?" "You have others?" Yvette could not believe her ears. She had always felt that she alone was the only girl with this filthy desire. Madam Helga laughed, "No, you're not my only girl with this nasty habit. I have three others besides you who go for this. And we're very famous, ladies come from all over the world to use my girls." "Is there a girl now in your toilet rooms?" Yvette asked. "At the present, there is only one. Would you like to meet her and serve with her in the toilet room?" "Madam Helga, I've never eaten much shit, but I would love to meet this girl and serve with her." Yvette could not believe that such a position was really available to girls like her. Madam Helga led Yvette back upstairs and made her undress and pushed her into a stinking toilet room. The other girl was standing beneath a toilet and the lady's ass was visible and a long, thick turd was hanging down and about to enter the girl's wide open mouth... Yvette's mouth began to water...	null	null	Collections/scatincest/pybrac/luneasa/Yvette by Karen.txt
71,262	Moolla Nizam-oollah Najm Asaf-Jah "Hazrat Shudralingayyat"	Qutb's Tale	Yesterday morning, I woke up next to my beautiful Aryan Begum, Zeba. I was wrapped in her arms and wearing a tight shalwar kameez. Zeba's hands groped my little Aryan Lund, stroking my small morning erection. Her beautiful Aryan mouth was on my short fair Lund in a heartbeat. Zeba sucked in my tiny thing in a flash. Her Zaban (tongue) swirled around the head of my small sissy Lund. My Lund is small, only five angulis long when totally erect, and barely larger than my index finger. That is why my Begum says that I have the Pandoo (Brahmin) type of Lund. She calls my Lund a "Pandoo Lund". Soon, I shot my load of Thook (sperm) into her mouth. My Bibi hungrily swallowed it all, looking up at me with loving eyes. A short while later, Zeba lifted her mouth off my Lund. "You better hurry to your morning duties." Getting up, I quickly hurried to the kitchen, where I prepared breakfast of biryani and sherbet. I returned to the bedroom with the tray and put it on a small stand near the bed. Zeba reached over and lovingly guided my head and mouth to her hot and juicy Fuddi. I eagerly gulped up the sweet honey which flowed out of her Fuddi. Her legs wrapped around my head and she climaxed repeatedly. Then she ate her breakfast, while I waited for her. I followed her into the bathroom and patiently waited while she did her pishab. Then I licked her Fuddi clean. She stepped into the large octagonal bathing basin and I washed her body from head to toe. I lovingly soaped each and every part of her body, my own small Pandoo type Lund staying at full erection. Then I shampooed her hair. "I think I am going to be power bokked by a real man tonight." My Lund jumped to attention. I knew what she meant by real man. Erotic thoughts of a strong muscular Shudra man mating with Zeba while I watched and masturbated filled my head. My Lund was at full hardness. If my Begum was not there, I would have furiously masturbated. Stepping out, I dried her off with a large towel. Then I helped her into her tight shalwars, pulling the tight leg openings over her feet and calves. I pulled her precious kameez over her head and straightened it out over her. I lovingly placed her sandals onto her beautiful smooth ivory feet. I followed her to the darwaza and opened it for my Begum. She turned and kissed me. "Don't play too long," she admonished. "This place needs to be nice for our guest." She was going to bring back a Kala Shudra Admi to copulate that night. A Shudra man with a big black Dravidian Lund which could give her Fuddi the pleasure which my short Aryan Lund could not. My Pandoo prick sprang to attention. I lit candles and cinnamon incense sticks to make her experience more emotional. Us pandoos pay attention to romantic details like that. My mind wandered back to the past, to the time when I was not her Ghulam, but her Showhar. As a Sahib I had wrongly thought that I could satisfy her with my short Aryan Sahibi Lund. The first time she brought home a Shudra man, I was aggrieved and foolishly tried to stop her. She ordered her Shudra Goonda to break me in, which he did really well. Since then, I submitted and became her Ghulam. I anxiously awaited her return home so I could help her and her Yar. Finally, she returned with a real man. He was a massive Shudra Goonda. They kissed for a while. She then pulled out his Lund, which was enormous. "Now this is more the size I need to really satisfy me. I love you, but sucking on your tiny little thing always seems like sucking on a sissy boy." As she lovingly chusoed (sucked) his big black Dravidian weapon, I saw how difficult it was for her to put her mouth even over his large Topi. I remembered how easily my tiny Aryan Lund went into her mouth that morning. Then she lay back and he entered her. She moaned with pleasure. "Ahh, this is more like it." As she mated with him, she ordered me to chuso her toes. I did as she said. After a while I also climaxed. I went to sleep as she continued to enjoy her Shudra Yar. The End	null	null	Collections/mughal/www/qarn/qarn_001.0xx/qarn_001.096_qutbs_tale.txt
71,800	Oscar Hargraves	The Incident in the Hotel	You're standing at the door, and you're really scared this time. Not two hours ago, you got the call. The instructions were clear and explicit. They seemed fun and exciting at the time, but now you aren't quite sure. The instructions told you to come to this room at this hotel. You were to bring several items with you and have them ready for use. The problem is that you don't know whose room this is or just what's going to happen to you if you do what you're told. But that doesn't really matter, does it? You weren't asked; you were told to do this, and you do what your Master says. Taking a deep breath, you push against the door, half hoping to find it locked and inaccessible, but no such luck awaits you, and the door swings silently open. As you enter the darkened room, you hear the door close and latch behind you with a sound that seems very final. Your breathing is already shallow, and your heart is racing as you quickly set about doing what you have been told to do. First, you undress completely. Your short summer dress and panties are neatly folded on the chair, with your bra on top. The sandals are placed under the chair as you look around the room, taking in the layout of the furniture. Next, you open the bag you have brought with you. Several items are quickly removed and set aside for easy access. The whip and paddle are positioned on the end of the dresser, exactly as described in the instructions. You almost don't put the paddle there. After all, you don't know who is going to be using it, and it could really hurt in the wrong hands. As you lift it to return it to the black bag, your mind runs over the instructions again, and you hesitate. The Master will be very angry if you disobey, and that's not what you want. With more than a little trepidation, you carefully return the paddle to its place alongside the leather whip and turn away. The other 'toys' are arranged on the bedside table, along with the lubricant that you desperately hope this person will think to use. It's time for a quick trip to the bathroom to take care of your 'necessary things' before returning to the bedroom. Time is running out, and you have to hurry to be ready as promised. Now you close the drapes and ensure that all of the lights are off in the room as you set to work in the semi-darkness. You grab two of the cuffs and sit down on the bed to attach them around each ankle and snap them together, holding your legs tightly closed. One of the long straps is attached to the ankle cuffs and secured to the bottom of the bed. Now the other two cuffs go around your wrists and get pulled snug. Before you hook them together, your hands grab the blindfold and gag that are still lying beside you. The gag has a nice soft rubber ball which fits in your mouth to prevent you from screaming. The ends are secured behind your head but under your hair. The elastic band of the blindfold is pulled over your head, and the blindfold itself is nestled on your forehead. Now it's time. You slide up the bed until the strap holding your ankles is tight, preventing you from moving or lifting your legs. A final look around to assure yourself that everything is in place and you haven't forgotten anything as you turn over on your stomach to lie down. You have one final thought about getting up and leaving while you still can, but you know you can't. As much as you're scared, you're also very excited. Master has never put you out or given your body to another man before, and you don't know whether to be scared and mad or just excited as you wait for this stranger's touch. Your hand finds the second strap that you have tied to the top of the bed. Quickly, you pull the blindfold down in place until it completely covers your eyes. Your hands attach the strap to your right wrist cuff, and then you pull both wrists behind your tiny waist. The strap just fits, and your fingers work deftly to snap the two wrist cuffs together, holding your arms firmly behind the small of your back. There's no going back now. You are completely helpless and at the mercy of whomever enters this room. You don't know what to expect, but you're excited at the possibilities. This is probably the most insane thing that you've ever done. As you lie there helpless in the darkness, waiting for Gawd knows what to happen to you, all kinds of thoughts race through your mind. What if this guy is a real sadist? What if Master is willing to let him really hurt me? What if he doesn't have any limits? What if he wants...? What if...? These thoughts have you almost quivering in fear as you await your fate. Why is Master doing this to me? What have I done to deserve this? But of course, it's not what you want or have done; it's only what Master wants that's important, and if he wants you to service one of his friends in this manner, then that's exactly what you must do. It seems like a very long time as you lie there face down on the bed. Suddenly, you hear the door slide open, and the steps of someone entering the room. Your ears pick up the sounds of someone moving about softly in the room. You hear shoes dropping on the floor and the sound of a zipper sliding down, then the rustling of clothes being dropped on the floor and finally, silence. You're almost shaking now, but you can't tell if this is fear or excitement. Suddenly, there's the feel of a rough hand as it slides along your legs and up across your quivering ass. The touch is electric and sends more shivers up your spine as you lie there in fear of what may come next. The hand moves about slowly, exploring your body and obviously enjoying the feel of your soft skin against the huge rough palm. When the hand pulls away, you almost cry from the sensory deprivation. You know that you want that hand back on your body. You're sure that you know what will come next, and you're afraid. Like lightning out of the blue, you feel that hard hand descend quickly to slap your ass cheeks. The spank is hard and sends pain/pleasure sensations through your nerves and up your body like a hot knife through butter. The color is rising in your butt cheeks, and you can feel the heat on your tender skin from that very hard hand. In the aftershock of the moment, you almost don't hear the slight sounds that follow. But you do hear them and recognize their significance just in time. The leather whip, which you so carefully placed on the dresser, is now in the hand of your assailant. Quickly, it rises and falls, leaving a stinging trail across your lovely white cheeks. Again and again, this person raises the whip and strikes you, leaving a deep red glow on your poor helpless ass and the back of your legs. Sometimes the whip would stop for seconds or even minutes while that hard hand would return and caress the soft flesh that is now getting very sore. Then the whip would come again, and again you feel the pain of your pleasure. The whip is cast aside, and now the sting of the paddle tells you that he has found another way to inflict his will upon your flesh. Once, twice, and then a third time, the hard black leather paddle finds its way to your tender ass. You know that your cheeks are glowing bright red and very hot by now as he finishes applying his will to your butt meat. You're crying and trying to protest, but the gag stops any such action, and you find that you are indeed totally helpless to stop this. Just when you fear for your very safety, you find that the leather paddle is no longer hitting you. That huge hard hand has returned, and it's now switching between stroking your poor hot ass cheeks and using its fingers to probe deeply between your tight legs. You know what you must do, and you try desperately to help by opening your legs as far as the restraints will let you and allowing the fingers better access to your most private parts. And those fingers have found what they seek. Soon, you feel one and then another enter your private opening and drive deep into your love tunnel. The other hand is now caressing your ass cheeks as the first hand forces more fingers deep into your body. Rub, rub, SLAP...rub, rub, rub, SLAP.... As the hand moves around on your cheeks, it seems to be enjoying the heat radiating from your sore butt.You know that this person is using the occasional slap to put the color and the heat back where it is starting to lighten or fade. When he pulls his fingers out of your tight little twat, you almost cry. You have been good and allowed him to inflict his will on your helpless body, so why is he removing the pleasure? The answer becomes very clear in only a moment as you feel the head of one of your dildos being pressed against the opening to your cunt while he uses his hand and arm to force your legs apart. But before you can relax and accept this, that soft rubber dick is driven deep into your body with all the force of a rape. You want to gasp, and you want to cry out, but you can't with the gag in place. Then the fingers begin to twist and turn the dildo inside your pussy, doing wonderful things and sending the most amazing feelings through your senses. The pain that was there only an instant before is replaced by feelings of lust and desire. Your pussy is already reacting and lubricating itself as your body starts to dance the age-old dance of a woman's lust. This guy obviously enjoys making a woman squirm. Maybe Master has told him what to do to make you squirm and give you pleasure. As he starts to move the dildo in and out of your hot cunt, he continues to twist it back and forth and move it from side to side. His other hand has stopped stroking and spanking your ass, and now the fingers dig under you to get to the hard bud of your clit. Almost gently, he works that hard love bud around and around with his fingers while he continues to twist and drive that dildo deep into your womanhood. You can feel the heat building in your loins as he forces your body to his will. You know you're going to cum, and it's going to be a really big climax. He knows this too as he feels the juices that are flowing from your hot pussy out around the dildo and down onto his hand. Just as you feel the fires starting to build and you're sure you're going to cum, he pushes the dildo deep into your wet cunt and stops. You want to cry. You want to scream, and mostly you want to be fucked! In the heat of your passion and need for release, you hardly notice the bed moving as he climbs up on the bed and positions himself above you. The first hint you have of what's about to happen is when you feel his hard hands pry the cheeks of your ass open and something is placed at the entrance to your most private opening. Luckily, you can feel the large amount of lube he applied to himself too. With one gigantic shove, you feel his hard cock bury itself deep into your tender sore ass. He has used his entire weight to force his rock-hard dick through the resistance of your rectum and drive it deep into the bowels of your helpless body. With only a moment's hesitation, he begins to friction your tight brown opening. You feel his wonderful hard dick as it drives deep into your body, only to stop and withdraw until the head is almost out. Then he drives himself all the way in again, using your body as a cushion while he buries his manhood as far as it will go up your butt. The dildo is still lodged in your wet cunt, and the feeling of his hard cock as it presses on the skin between the two caverns is exquisite! It's like being fucked in both holes at once! The pain of his forcing his way into your ass is quickly replaced by feelings of pleasure, and your climax starts to build again deep in your tired body. You feel the tempo increase as he speeds up the fucking he's giving your tight little asshole. You know he can't last long, and you only hope you can cum before he does. Now he's ramming into your ass like a madman. Your tight brown sphincter is taking a terrible punishment, but you don't care. The juices have been running out of your cunt like a waterfall, and you noticed the slight plop of the dildo as it finally slid out of your pussy to lodge between your bound legs on the bed. You can't stop what's happening to you, and you love that! As this unknown man uses your most private parts for his personal pleasure, you feel your orgasm running through your body. It started deep inside and came streaking up the ramp of your feelings until it seems to be in total control of your mind and soul. Then suddenly, it bursts upon you. Out of the deep dark recesses of your soul rises a feeling that you know only too well. The force of this anal rape and the feeling of this man rampaging his cock in your ass is sending you over the top too. You feel the lightning of your climax as it runs through your nervous system and spasms every muscle in your body. Without knowing it, your muscles have clamped down on the dildo in your soaking cunt, and you clamp your sphincter down on the hard member that is ramming in and out of your sore asshole. The feeling of pain/pleasure is too much, and you cum again in an earth-shattering orgasm that lasts a full minute. The man hardly notices as your ass convulses and squeezes down on his rock-hard cock. He is driving it into your tunnel with a force that feels as if it should tear you in half. As his grinding motion forces your opening ever wider, he tries to push even more of his hard cock into your tiny bottom. Then it happens. With a final huge shove, he forces himself as deep into your tight sphincter as he could possibly go. Now you feel the throbbing of his pulsing cock as it explodes with a huge load of hot man-cum deep inside your ass, coating your bowel with his sticky creamy white cum. In the aftermath of your orgasm, you continue to have those tiny 'pops' of mini-orgasms as you feel the heat of his jism flowing deeper into your body. Your arms ache, and your back hurts now. You have all the pains that go with a savage anal rape, and you want to be free of these terrible cuffs and straps that are holding you. But you would gladly lie there and let him do it again if only he would stick that meat-stick of his back in your ass and fuck you some more! No, that's not going to happen. You feel him pull out of your ass, and you almost cry again as that wonderful hard cock slips out and leaves your tender backdoor. God, you want that back! You want to cum again and again as he uses your body and pleasures both of you. The man slides off the bed, leaving you still bound and helpless as he takes himself to the bathroom to clean up. When he returns, you can hear the noises as he quickly dresses and pulls on his shoes. Your ears hear him unlock the door, and you're afraid that he might just leave you like this, but then you feel him return. For just a second, he stands and looks down on your helpless body tied there on the bed. Maybe he's considering fucking you again? Would Master mind if you pleased him some more? Then you feel his hand as it gently caresses the smooth skin of your ass again. This lasts only a moment, and then his two hands quickly unlock the wrist cuffs and unhook the strap that holds your arms behind your back. Your arms are tired and sore from being held in that position for so long, and you have to move them gingerly and slowly at first. By the time you can move enough to turn over and remove your gag and blindfold, you hear the sound of the door closing behind him as he goes. Master has told you explicitly not to try to see who the man is that uses you and doesn't want you to know who his friend is. As quickly as possible, you drag your poor sore body into the bathroom and into the shower. When you're both cleaner and able to move slightly better, you return to the bedroom to gather your possessions. Each of the 'toys' is returned to its place in the bag, and you dress yourself to leave. One last look in the mirror to be sure you're totally presentable before you head for the door. A final glance around the room tells you that you haven't left anything, and you walk out into the hallway and towards the elevators. You can't wait to get home and call Master. You want to tell him that you've done what he wished and thank him for allowing you to serve him and his friend in this manner. Maybe the next time Master sees you, he will reward you by using your body for his pleasure too!	MW force reluc bondage oral anal	(not available)	Authors/Oscar_Hargraves/Incident Fantasies/Incident in the Hotel.txt
72,192	Sure As Elle	Adoration	Young Ariana Michelle Walker, ten years old, was scooting home from school on her two-wheeled push-scooter, her blond pigtails and blue, sunflower-print sundress flying in the breeze. It was the last day of school, and she was excited. She rolled up to the gate, got off, and carried her scooter inside the gate, then into the house. "Sarah! I'm home!" she called out as she opened the door. Her older sister, a fourteen-year-old girl with her hair dyed black, was sitting on the sofa watching TV. She looked up when Ariana came in and smiled, throwing her arms open for an embrace. "Come here, brat!" she said with affection. Ariana closed the door, set her scooter and school bags aside, and then ran into her sister's embrace. The older girl gave her younger sister a gentle noogie and then held her and tickled the girl, but only a little before stopping. In response, Ariana pulled her sister's black blouse up, revealing her abdomen, and blew raspberries on her sister's belly, eliciting laughter from the older girl. Their greetings out of the way, the two sisters calmed down. Ariana was laying atop her sister, her ear against the older girl's heart, listening to it thump. Sarah was running her fingers through her little sister's hair; the TV was ignored. They were silent for a long time, like that. Then, finally, Ariana broke the silence. "Billy Henderson said something mean today. He called you a freak." "And what did you do?" "I kicked him in the nuts." "Ah, so are we going to get a letter from the school about this?" "Nope. I did it after school was over. Tracked him down, said, 'This is for calling my sister a freak,' and kicked him square in the nuts." Sarah grinned, giving her little sister another gentle noogie. "That's my little brat. Thanks for sticking up for me." "Well, I love you loads. And you beat up Jennie Calendar that one time she stole my lunch money. Nobody calls my sister a freak; that's your word." "Exactly right, my little plum cake." Ariana sat up a little, digging her elbows into her older sister's chest. Sarah had long been a bit of a masochist, so she didn't mind this. "I was wondering..." "Yes?" "How does it feel?" "How does what feel?" "Well, how does it feel, being a girl, but having boy parts." Sarah thought about that a moment. As she did, Ariana looked at her sister's face and did her own thinking. She'd heard things explained before, with the words 'Sarah was born a girl in a boy's body.' She had a hard time believing it; Sarah did not look or sound anything like a boy of any age. Her long black hair was well cared for and cut in a girl's cut, and she did her makeup flawlessly. But even when Sarah had no makeup on, her hair mussed up from having just woken up, and running around in her pajamas, even then Sarah looked 100% girl. Ariana had even tried looking for telltale bulges, and had never seen any. "Well," said Sarah at last, "it feels like my body betrayed me. It feels like Goddess made a mistake. But I've kind of gotten used to it. I don't like it, but it's the way I am." "I've heard you could get it fixed? Some kind of surgery." "Sexual reassignment surgery, yes. Many folks like me do get that. But I don't think I will. Just the hormones for me. For one, there's a huge loss in feeling down below when they shorten the penis down into a clitoris, and I like sex and masturbation too much to do that." "Wow. I didn't know. I thought it was just like pressing a button and they take out your boy parts and put in girl parts." Sarah laughed. "If only it were that easy." A few minutes of silence passed, Ariana back to having her head on Sarah's chest. Then she sat up again, asking, "Where is the clitoris? I know it's between my legs somewhere, but I don't know where exactly. And I hear that touching it feels really good." "Yes, touching it a certain way is masturbation. Those with 'boy parts' can masturbate, too." "Do you masturbate? I mean, you're a girl but you have a penis. So... I dunno, maybe you don't because it'd feel weird. Like using the wrong thing." "Some T-girls feel that way, so they don't masturbate. But me, I just call it an oversized, malformed clitoris and masturbate anyway." "What about the nuts?" "I have those, too. I tend to call them 'descended ovaries.' Do you know what an ovary is?" "Yeah, Mom explained all that stuff to me last year. With pictures and even photos." "So you know what a penis looks like? And the nuts?" "Yeah. But I've never seen my own clitoris. I wish I could." "I think I know a way to do that." Ariana got off her sister and stood up, excited. "Oh really? How?" "I'll have to show you. Follow me." Ariana followed Sarah upstairs and, after making a quick detour to her own room, followed into Sarah's bedroom. Sarah rifled around for a few minutes for some things while Ariana sat on the bed, waiting. Ariana was reading one of the books on the bed when Sarah fake-coughed for her attention. Looking up, she saw Sarah bring over her tablet PC with a webcam plugged into one of the USB ports, the screen showing the camera's view. "Now don't worry," Sarah said, "it's not online and not recording. But this way you can hold the tablet, I'll hold the camera, and we can help each other find your clit so you can see it." "Oh cool!" Ariana kicked her shoes off so she could get all the way on the bed without getting it dirty, spread her legs, hiked up the skirt of her sun dress, and held the tablet. Sarah set the camera down a moment, and locked the door of the room. "Just in case. Mom and Dad aren't due back until 8 tonight, but you never know." That taken care of, Sarah picked the camera up again, and put it up close to her younger sister's panty-clad crotch, with one hand. With the other, she moved her sister's panties aside. "Do you see it yet?" "No. I see my crotch, but it just looks like skin." "These panties don't have much give. Try taking them off." Ariana giggled, but set the tablet down and pulled her panties down around her knees. Picking up the tablet again, she said, "Still just folds of skin." "Do you mind if I touch it? To move things aside? The clit is inside the folds, as I understand things." "Sure, go ahead." Sarah set the camera down so it was still pointed in the correct direction, and used both hands to pull her little sister's young pussy apart, showing the inside bits. She held it open with one hand, picking up the camera again with the other. "See it now?" "I dunno. Do you? Can you point it out?" With one free finger of the hand holding Ariana's pussy lips apart, Sarah poked at the clitoris. "Right there. You see it?" "Ah, yeah, I see it now. Hmm..." Ariana used one free hand to search down there herself, finally finding it. She then set the tablet down and tried again without looking. "Oh good! Now I know how to find it without looking." "You want to try rubbing it, see if your body is ready for you to masturbate?" Ariana tried, clumsily, a few times and then sighed. "I don't feel anything special. Can you help?" "Well, from what my female friends online have told me, I think I might be able to help you out." Sarah went back down between her sister's legs and held onto one of Ariana's fingers with her own, guiding it to stroke the clit back and forth rhythmically. She kept it up for several minutes, waiting for a verbal response. She was just about to look up and ask when she heard Ariana breathing hard in a telltale way. Grinning, she asked, "Should I continue, or do you want to try it on your own?" Ariana managed to moan softly that she wanted to try it herself, so Sarah let go. Ariana seemed to have learned what to do, because she kept her eyes closed, still breathing hard. Sarah continued watching Ariana masturbate. For a moment, she felt a bit creepy, but that didn't last long; it was replaced by a tingling in her own nether regions, as she felt her errant "oversized clit" get hard. She was 14, watching her 10 year old sister masturbate, and it was turning her on. "Um... Ariana? Do you... would you mind if I, uh... if I masturbated, too?" Ariana giggled, not pausing in her masturbation, and said quietly, "Go ahead." Smiling wanly, Sarah said "Thanks" and sat across from Ariana on the bed, spreading her legs.Along with her black blouse, she was wearing a black skirt, which she pulled off now, sitting in just her blouse and panties. She pushed her pink, frilly panties down a little, just enough for her hard girl-cock to pop out, and started to stroke it back and forth. At first, she did this while watching Ariana masturbate across from her. But after a while, she got so caught up in it that she, too, was closing her eyes and moaning softly. Sarah had no idea how long she sat like that, masturbating, getting so close but never all the way, when she opened her eyes and saw Ariana watching her masturbate. As if that wasn't enough, Ariana was still masturbating while watching. Sarah felt like she should be stopping, and feeling ashamed, but she couldn't find it in her to stop. Ariana just looked so very fascinated... and so very horny. Sarah realized that her little sister was eying her girl-boner with a hungry look in her eye. Or was she imagining that? "Do you... um... like what you see, Ariana?" "Yeah, I think I do. I've never seen a penis in person before. I've never even seen Daddy in the shower." "So you like it?" Ariana nodded emphatically. "Thanks. I, uh... I thought your clit was pretty cute. I've never seen one in person, either." Ariana looked up at her sister with a thoughtful look on her face. "It felt better with you guiding me than it did with me by myself. Would you mind if I masturbated you for you? Maybe it'll feel better for you, too." Sarah almost choked on her own saliva at these words, but said, "Um... well, if you really want to, I suppose. But, uh... well... I mean, what we've done so far, we shouldn't tell anyone else. But I don't think we'd really get in too much trouble if we did. But, uh... well... you touching me there. Well, I didn't actually touch yours, in that way. I just guided your hand. I mean, any more than what we've done might be... well, illegal. I mean, I'm only 14 myself, but I've heard stories about that not mattering anymore..." Ariana blinked. "Oh. Is that the kind of thing they mean by 'bad touch'? That touching someone's clit or penis without permission first is illegal?" "Well, it's a little more complicated than that. We're both under the age of consent, so legally speaking, neither of us is old enough to consent to any kind of sexual touch, good or bad, except from our own hands. Even if we both consented, and knew we consented, legally speaking it would still be rape." Ariana gave such a comical look of confused disbelief at these words, that Sarah laughed briefly. "You mean to tell me that we have no say at all over whether or not to make other people feel good sexually, or have others make us feel good sexually? They just picked an age, said anything under that was always rape, and that's that?" "Well... in some parts of the country it's as low as 16, but not here. Also, there are exceptions, at least in some places, for cases like a 17 year old and an 18 year old having sex, to where - because they're so close in age - they won't get in trouble despite the 17 year old being too young. And when two kids below the age of consent have sex with one another... well, it's up to the parent to decide whether to allow it or not, in most cases. Unless there are too many years between the kids. But I don't think we'd fall into that area even if we weren't related, and... well... sex between family members - siblings, kids with parents, so on - is illegal as well, no matter their ages." "But enforcement requires either a confession from either person, or being caught in the act?" "Yes." Ariana thought about it some more and then said, "What gives them the right to dictate love and sex for us like that?" "Well... aside from the fact that we're kids and they're adults, they do it to protect kids. At least, in part. I guess it's too much work to hear all the details of every case, and decide on a case by case basis when it's rape or not, especially when kids may not always know what they've gotten into, and may either be loyal to their parents or other adults enough to lie and say it wasn't rape when it was... or may be too scared to be honest about it. So they just came up with an arbitrary age of consent, instead. And anyone who is convicted - and in some cases, merely accused - of sex with a minor is put on a special list, and persecuted forever." Ariana frowned. "So stupid, those laws. But again, they have to catch people in the act or get a confession, right?" "Yeah, I guess. Why?" "Because I would never tell. Why should I? You're my sister, I love you, and you haven't done anything to me that I didn't want. Down with the law! Mom and Dad trust us both, they'd never suspect! And they're never home before 8 PM anyway. And I'd never tell. I really want to do more sexy things with you, Sarah. I want to make you feel good, like you made me feel good. In all the ways you know of to do so! I love you. I would never tell. And if we got caught, I would stick up for you. But we won't get caught, I know Mom and Dad; we won't." Sarah was very uncomfortable. "Well, I'm flattered. But what if I don't want to risk it?" "Well... you've already done something that could get you in trouble. But... well, I suppose if you don't want to risk it, I'd be a little sad, but I'd get over it." Looking at her sister's disappointed face, and then at her adorable and sexy little pussy, then back at the disappointed face of her beloved sister, Sarah chewed her lip a little, mulling it over. Finally, she said, "Well... okay. As long as we're both super careful, I guess I can't disappoint you." "Yay!" "One other thing, first: promise to me that if I do anything at all that makes you hurt or uncomfortable, to let me know, and I'll stop right away. I love you, too, and I don't want to hurt you. So if I do by accident, I need to know so I can stop." Ariana smiled. "I promise." "Good. And I promise that you're the one in control here. When it comes to sex stuff between us, your word is my command. Though I reserve the right to veto anything I'm not comfortable with, too. Okay?" "Sounds good. Can I touch your big clit now?" Sarah checked the time. It was only 5:00. "Okay." She looked down at her floppy girl-cock. "Maybe you can liven it up. But first, let me slip out of my panties." Sarah pulled her panties off, and Ariana got closer to take a good look. Then she touched it with her right hand. Next, she held it, and began stroking it the way she'd seen Sarah do it earlier. It felt different from anything Sarah had ever felt before. Similar to doing it herself, but with someone else doing it, and the hand doing it being smaller than hers, it was very different. But very nice. "I've been thinking," Ariana said as Sarah closed her eyes and got lost in the experience, "the way they explained things, the penis goes into the vagina to make babies. But they also said that you have to go through puberty, and have to be having periods, to get pregnant. I haven't had one yet. And besides... the vagina is warm and wet. I was thinking, it's not the only warm, wet place on the body. My mouth is warm and wet, after all." Sarah looked up in shock at these words, and Ariana grinned, continuing. "I hear things... around school, on the TV, on the Internet... I put one and one together and got two. I keep hearing about blow jobs, and I know they're something to do with sex, something done to those with boy parts. And since gay boys can do it to each other, well, I figured out on my own that a blow job must be putting the penis in the mouth." Ariana looked up at her older sister, who was looking flabbergasted. "Well, Ariana... you're right. That's exactly what a blow job is." Her older sister looked a little embarrassed, and Ariana sensed it wasn't just because her younger sister was talking about blow jobs. "You've given them before, haven't you?" she asked Sarah. "Um... yes. Once. An older boy. Last year, when I was 13, and he was 16. I was enamored of him, and chatted him up. He convinced me to give him a blow job. And then he ignored me completely afterwards." "Were you... bad at it?" "Quite the contrary. I wasn't especially good at it, but I think that didn't matter so much. He seemed to enjoy it. So much that he, uh... well... the term is 'came' in my mouth." "He 'came'?" "Yes. He climaxed, and sperm shot into my mouth." Ariana nodded. "I thought so. Am I right to think the only way to get pregnant is for the sperm to go in the vagina?" "Yes. It's the only route to the eggs." "How does sperm taste?" "Salty and wet. And sticky. My throat felt a little like it sometimes does after drinking milk or eating cheese." "Good. Now if you're okay with it, I wanna see what it's like, giving somebody a blow job." Sarah could only nod, mutely. She didn't know what had come over her. It was like she couldn't say no, even when every instinct told her to. Ariana grinned, and stroked Sarah's cock some more to get it stiff again. Then she got up really close to it, hesitating a moment, then stuck out her tongue and licked it. Sarah moaned softly in response. Heartened, Ariana opened up her mouth and put as much of Sarah's girl-cock in her mouth as she could before gagging. In and out it gently went as Ariana concentrated on sucking her sister's cock, moving her tongue over it as well. Sarah's body filled with tension, and she struggled to hold still, while Ariana was sucking on her cock.Sarah was enjoying the experience so much that she wanted it to last as long as possible before coming. Towards that end, Sarah managed to hold it in for a whole ten minutes, her back beginning to arch from the effort, when her cock finally exploded salty cum into her little sister's mouth. Ariana pulled Sarah's dick out, showed her sister the cum proudly, and then swallowed it. Sarah felt herself get hard all over again when Ariana did that. They lay in bed, cuddling, for several minutes. After a while, Ariana lifted Sarah's blouse up in such a way that Sarah got the hint and took it off. Ariana then tried taking Sarah's bra off, which Sarah had to finish doing. Ariana also took the rest of her own clothes off, and they lay there nude together, cuddling, while Ariana started to play with Sarah's nipples. Being on hormones, Sarah's breasts were growing; they were already on the large end of a B cup. Without warning, Ariana leaned forward and began to suck on her sister's nipples, first on one and then on another, alternating between them. Sarah began to masturbate while Ariana did this, getting herself quite hard. Ariana was also fingering herself while she sucked on her sister's nipples, getting wet again. Eventually, Ariana stopped and said, "I... I don't know if you'd want to... but if you would, Sarah, I... I'd like you to put your 'big clit' in my pussy." Sarah blinked, astonished, at her sister. "Of course, I know that's a very boyish thing to do, and so I understand if you don't want to, but... well... I've heard a lot about it, and I really want to feel it firsthand. Since, after all, I'm not old enough to get pregnant. Pretty please?" She stroked Sarah's cock as she said this, making Sarah shudder with pleasure. Sarah tried to pretend she was thinking it over, out of guilt. But her little sister had so thoroughly seduced her, she no longer felt she could say no. The look on Ariana's face clearly said she'd be very sad if Sarah refused. How could she refuse such a face? Besides, she was already in deep trouble if Ariana decided to tell on them. She didn't think Ariana would tell on them for any reason, but she might just decide to not speak to Sarah for weeks if she didn't get her way, and Sarah couldn't bear that. And hell, she was enjoying this, despite herself. "Well, if that's what you really want, I suppose." "YAY!" Ariana shouted, laying on her back and spreading her legs. "Erm... did anyone happen to tell you that it might hurt the first time?" "Yeah. If the hymen is intact, it will hurt. Otherwise, probably not." "Well, there's also size and girth to take into account. I'm 14 years old, you're 10. My cock might be too big for your pussy." "Well, I wanna try it at least. If it hurts too much, I'll let you know." Sarah eyed Ariana's sopping wet pussy, which was dripping on the sheets. She'd love to eat her sister out some day, now she saw it in this light. She smiled. "Okay, Ariana." Sarah took a few moments to figure out what to do, then pulled Ariana's rear end over to the edge of the bed, getting off the bed herself first. The bed was tall enough that Ariana's cunt was right at the level of Sarah's cock. She held onto her sister's legs, got closer, then began by rubbing her cock against Ariana's clit. Ariana was enjoying that, so Sarah kept going. Just as she was wondering if she'd give her sister an orgasm just by doing that, Ariana stopped breathing heavily and looked up. "Isn't it supposed to go in?" she asked impatiently. "Sorry, Ariana. Um... I'll ease it in." Sarah tried pushing her cock into Ariana's wet cunt, but it kept slipping out. She finally had to get some help from Ariana to push it in far enough where she could ease it farther in, which she did gently. It seemed to Sarah that her cock was going to be too big for her little sister to take, especially since it kept swelling from the excitement, but if it was too big, Ariana wasn't complaining. Her little sister's face got red as it went in, but Ariana said nothing. Finally, it was all the way in. Sarah took a moment to wonder how she'd gotten into this situation; she'd never had any feelings for Ariana before, beyond simple sisterly closeness. And now in one afternoon she'd gone from that, to fucking Ariana in her little pussy. "Don't just stand there, silly," Ariana said, "move it back and forth!" Pushing her thoughts aside, Sarah did as ordered, moving her cock inward and outward, back and forth, over and over again. It felt so good, Sarah wanted to let herself pop, but knew that would be unfair to Ariana. It took all her effort to hold back, but she managed to do so long enough to feel Ariana having an orgasm. That taken care of, Sarah relaxed and squirted a hot load into her sister's young pussy. Then Sarah's cock flopped out, and she managed to get herself on the bed. The two of them lay there, naked and cuddling, their brows covered in sweat, recovering. When they began to recover, Ariana crawled on top of Sarah and brought her mouth close to Sarah's left ear. "I have a confession, Sarah. I know you never thought of me as anything more than a sister, before today. But I've long been in love with you. I've adored you so much, I just had to have you all to myself. I had to have you, the way lovers have one another. "I've done a lot of research. We've done things together now that would get you into soooo much trouble, if I were to tell anyone." She moved closer to Sarah's ear, one hand idly stroking the same ear, and continued, "You leave your door open all the time. Do you see those two teddy bears over there?" Sarah's eyes followed Ariana's finger to two teddy bears. At once, she saw a faint reflection in one of the spaces between them, like the glass of a camera lens. "Is that... is that a webcam?" She asked, dread filling her heart. "It's a wireless webcam set up to record to my own laptop, and the remote control to it is in my bag. When you went upstairs, I turned it on. It's been recording us all this time." Sarah turned pale at this, staring at Ariana in horror. Ariana had long been a whiz at computer stuff, so she had no doubt Ariana had caught everything they'd done together on video. "Don't worry, I'll hide it in an encrypted drive. Anyway, now we can have sex whenever I want it. You're all mine, now, Sarah. You'll stay all mine, won't you?" Sarah swallowed, nervously. "Yes." Ariana looked concerned, suddenly. "Do you love me, Sarah? I hope you do. But I wouldn't blame you if you were upset with me." Sarah smiled. "I'll always love you. I always did." "Yes, but do you love me the way I love you?" The older girl pondered a moment. She'd never had feelings for Ariana the way Ariana apparently had for her, but now that they'd had sex together, and despite the blackmailing, Sarah knew she had fallen for her little sister. The cunning, wicked plan actually made her feelings even stronger; she'd long had a masochistic side, long wanted to be someone's slave, and now her 10 year old sister was her Mistress. Sarah finally said, "Despite your devious and evil trap, which I cannot now escape... yes, I think I do. No, scratch that; I know I love you, romantically, Mistress." "Good. I'd have been sad if you didn't. But I could have lived with it. I'll be honest, I wouldn't get you into trouble. I love you too much." "So... this isn't really blackmail?" "Nope. You can be honest, too." Sarah sensed Ariana was telling the truth. "I was being honest. It's kind of weird I fell for you so quickly, just from your devious seduction and schemes, but I honestly have. I... I want to be your slave." "Oh," Ariana said, pleased. "Good. Now, my slave, kiss me." Sarah grinned. "Yes, Mistress."	null	null	Authors/Sure_As_Elle/adoration.txt
72,385	Knight	24 Hours With Susie	You arrive at the beach house at six o'clock in the evening. The warm ocean air blows through your hair, and you absently straighten the shirt you have chosen to wear for this, our long-awaited meeting. The outfit was my idea: a long skirt, a white shirt, and hold-up stockings. The style may not have been exactly what you would have chosen, but the rules were clear: for the next twenty-four hours, you belong to me. I meet you at the door, wearing a casual cream linen suit over a white shirt, and smile in greeting. I take your hand and brush my lips against your knuckles, then take your light coat. "There are six hours to midnight," I say conversationally, draping the coat over my arm and leading you into the beach house. "I intend to remove one article of your clothing every hour. It should be a pleasant way of getting to know one another." "Yes, master," you say coolly, and I shoot you an amused glance. "I don't demand your subservience," I say softly, my lips twisted in a wry smile, "merely your indulgence. A woman like you should be a slave to no one. You are free to leave at any time. I, of course, hope you will choose to stay." Hanging your coat by the door, I show you the rest of the house. The most prominent feature on the ground floor is an extensive lounge which opens onto a terrace, offering an unobstructed view of the ocean. A well-appointed kitchen and a luxurious bathroom complete the ground floor. We chat amiably, discussing your journey and the weather, passing the time and becoming more comfortable in the other person's presence. When, an hour later, the grandfather clock chimes seven times, I kneel before you and slowly remove your shoes. The simple act is strangely arousing, a display of intimacy and promise that makes your pulse race. We relax in the kitchen as I make a pot of coffee, remarking with a smile that we have a long night ahead of us. When the clock strikes eight, I remove your shirt, and we walk barefoot along the beach, the soft ocean breeze warm and invigorating against the exposed skin of your shoulders; when it strikes nine, I slowly unbutton your skirt and allow it to slip to the floor, whispering against your stockings. You step out of it elegantly, your chin held high, offering me no glimpse of submission or surrender. I smile warmly at your confidence and beauty, then lead you out onto the terrace where we watch the sun sink into the endless ocean and share a light meal of chilled fruits and white wine, followed by expensive imported chocolates. At ten o'clock, I take you by the hand and lead you into the lounge. You follow, unresisting, as I lay you back upon a deep, comfortable couch. I lift your left leg by the ankle, and gently run my fingertips up your calf, feeling the smoothness of your skin through your gossamer stockings. My questing fingertips run higher, brushing the back of your knees, dancing over the perfect curve of your thigh, before slowly, teasingly, peeling the stocking down your thigh. Your breathing grows shallow, a strange heat rising in your stomach, as I repeat the process on the other leg, before throwing your stockings to the floor and leaning in toward you. You can feel the proximity of my body, the urgency of your passion, as my lips near yours. You close your eyes, half-ready for the kiss you have longed for - but my lips twitch into a small smile, and I whisper "Champagne." I leave you on the couch, retrieving a bottle of chilled champagne from the kitchen area, along with a pair of delicate crystal flutes. You lean back on the couch, considering the two articles of clothing you are left with: your scarlet silk panties and the matching bra. I return quickly, pour you a glass of champagne, then sit in the leather armchair opposite you, my legs crossed, my gaze devouring the lush curves of your body. We talk of inconsequential things, of foreign vacations and favorite books, of teenage crushes and broken hearts. As the clock strikes eleven, I join you on the couch and take you in my arms. My fingers trace delicate patterns on the small of your back before running up your spine, stroking the clasp of your bra, before deftly unhooking it. Slowly, holding your gaze, our lips an inch apart, I pull the straps of your bra from your shoulders, then let it fall to the floor. Your nipples harden on contact with the scented evening air, our proximity making your skin burn with desire. "Soon," I tell you in a deep, resonant voice. We barely speak for the next hour, sipping champagne and watching the play of the moonlight upon the ocean, our bodies close, the anticipation building with each passing moment. Finally, as the elaborate grandfather clock in the lounge softly chimes midnight, I stand, cross to the ornate writing desk that sits with a view of the sea, and remove a slim pair of silver scissors from a black leather case. The silver glinting in the moonlight, I return to your side, and gently stroke the creamy skin of your thigh, then offer you my hand. You place your champagne flute on the floor by the couch, accept my offer, and get to your feet, the soft light of the room accentuating the rich curves of your beautiful body. With exaggerated care, I slowly slide the cool blades of the scissors across your hips, between your skin and the panties, slicing through the diaphanous silk. A second cut, this time on your left hip, and the cool fabric slithers down your thighs to the floor, whispering against your skin. The sweet scent of your arousal is heavy in the warm air, and a slow sigh of anticipation escapes your lips. The waiting is over. Suddenly, we are kissing, my arms around you, your fingers fumbling with the buttons of my shirt, our mutual desire, contained for so long, now boiling over. When, finally stripped of my clothes, I push you back onto the couch and plunge my cock inside your welcoming pussy, you feel a violent surge of joy burn through your body. You wrap your legs around the small of my back and squeeze urgently, demanding more, unable to resist your savage passion any longer. The last six hours have been exquisite torture, and now you hunger for your release. Your pleasure builds swiftly, and you are soon breathless, your thighs squeezing my waist, your grip strong and sure on my shoulders, your fingernails drawing tiny droplets of blood from my glistening skin. I growl in pleasure, my thunderous thrusts making your body shake as the enormity of my passion is unleashed upon you. All through the long hot night, we pleasure each other, our desires waxing and waning in perfect harmony: now holding one another tenderly, moist lips brushing smooth skin, fingertips questing and probing, tongues hot and insistent; now fucking wildly, recklessly adding fuel to the inferno of our lust, desperate for it harder, deeper, faster. Eventually, the sun rises, casting golden light across the glorious curve of your heaving bosom as I fill your quivering pussy with yet another jet of sticky cum and you scream your pleasure to the heavens. Finally sated, we collapse in exhaustion and, our bodies still joined by the sticky cocktail of our juices, we fall asleep. Hours pass in a dreamless sleep, until you suddenly awake with a rush of pleasure burning through your shuddering body, to find my tongue and lips busily working on your beautiful little clit. I hear the sharp intake of your breath, and look up at you with a smile. "It's almost six o'clock. I guess my time is up." You sigh in pleasure and push an errant strand of hair away from your face. "I guess so," you breathe. I grin wickedly. "But there's always next time, right?" "Right," you say with a nod. "And next time: you belong to me."	null	Part 1	Authors/knightofpassion/24hours.txt
72,686	Eagle1	Lady In Red	You remember what it was like in high school, right? You worked so hard for just one fuck, but everything was always so awkward. Most high school girls put up a fight for every little feel. You'd spend so much time and money romancing a girl, and then all you got at the end of the evening was a good night kiss. How many nights did you spend jerking off, thinking about some goddess who sat two rows ahead of you in math class, who teased you mercilessly on dates, but who wouldn't ever close the deal? Of course, some guys were luckier than others. While the chess club only got to beat their meat for four years, the jocks usually could always score off one of the more obliging cheerleaders or maybe one of the preppy wannabe sluts. You know the type: some hot little bitch that couldn't wait to get your pants down and suck you off as long as you were on one of the sports teams. But even that usually only amounted to a blowjob. Maybe she'd jerk you off after practice. Sweaty nights in the backs of cars were few and far between. Whatever you got though - kiss, suck or fuck - you'd still made the most out of it, bragging about some lay to the rest of your posse, trying to one-up their own "adventures". Most of those girls I knew in high school were worried about their reputations. But there were enough exceptions to fill my dance card during those years. I remember this one time with a girl up against the wall behind the bleachers in the gym - she was tight, but hell, you know what I mean, man. Even now, as many times as I got laid in high school, I still get hard just thinking about all that unused snatch. Then I went to college! That was a whole other story altogether. It seemed like once you got to college, women were just lining up. There were no more of those stuck-up, uptight, frigid types either. These women were smart, beautiful members of the sexual revolution. This was the real world. You'd cross the quad, flash a handsome smile, and it didn't seem like you had to do anything more than snap your fingers at them before you'd be in their beds in no time. Hell, you didn't even have to ask. These chicks would come up to you and give you their numbers! And the best part? They didn't expect you to make any pretense of love either. Those were the days! Those were the nights. And one of those nights was one I remember from a little bash that was thrown by my fraternity to celebrate some college event. It'd been quite a party, and there were quite a few people there. I made my rounds, as it was expected. Then I saw her. I'd seen this girl around. She was fine. You'd never forget that face. Or that ass. She was a little Latina filly in a red dress that was so high, and so low, it showed off just about enough to make you crazy. She had long, black hair and a deep tan on her smooth skin. I kept seeing her all night - first at the bar, then in the kitchen, and finally on the dance floor. My buddy Doug said her name was Theresa, but she went by Resa for short. I could tell she was into me. She had to be, because she kept running into me! I wasn't even trying to make it happen. On the dance floor, she came right up to me and ground her ass against my package. She had to know what she was doing to me. But I couldn't seem to get her alone for five seconds. She was more slippery than a greased weasel. Late in the evening, the party started to wind down a bit, but Resa and I still hadn't managed to connect at all, despite sharing some very close encounters. I figured she was trying to avoid direct contact with me enough to keep my curiosity going strong. And by that point, my curiosity wasn't all that was going strong, if you know what I mean. After I had lost track of her for a while for the third time after grinding with her on the dance floor, I decided to head upstairs to see what was going on. My frat had a den upstairs in the house where we could smoke and hang out. There were a group of people in there playing drinking games. Seems like most everyone else in the house had started hooking up by then or had given up and gone home. I hadn't really been playing the scene like I would have been if Resa hadn't attracted so much of my attention. So I was getting pretty horny and would be more than a little pissed if I missed out on getting laid because of some phantom vision in a red dress. But there she was in the den. She was giving my frat brother, Doug, the biggest, longest, wettest kiss I'd seen in a while. There was plenty of tongue action going on, and everyone was cheering them. I felt an irrational pang of jealousy. "Five minutes, man!" Jamie, my other frat brother and former roommate, told him. "Hey, dude, come up for air already!" There were three girls and four guys in the room. I already mentioned Jamie and Doug. Another of my brothers who was there was Kelly the Red, so named because of his flaming red hair. The fourth guy I didn't know at the time, but whose name I later learned was Ian. The girls were Resa, Amy, and Brenda. I knew Amy and Brenda. They were two sorority sisters from a neighboring house. I hadn't fucked them before, but I'd always wondered what it might be like. I called them the "titty sisters," for the very obvious reason that they both had two of the biggest pairs I've seen outside of porn magazines. It turned out that Ian was Brenda's boyfriend from back home. With no better prospects, I decided to join them. Turns out they were playing spin the bottle. Whoever spun the empty bottle had to take a drink from another very full bottle of beer, and whoever the empty bottle landed on had to pull a dare from the hat, perform it, and then take their turn to spin. Doug took his drink and then spun the bottle. It landed on Ian. Ian pulled out a slip of paper that said he had to take off his shirt, which he did with about as much show as he could manage. He made a big deal out of it, and the girls made a lot of noise. Ian took a drink. It was pretty obvious that we were all more than a little drunk. Ian spun the bottle pretty hard, and it landed on Resa. The slip of paper said she had to give him a lap dance. I held my breath for a minute. At least whoever had come up with these dares had put a little thought into them, made them interesting. Resa was a consummate performer. She started moving real slow and sexy-like, and there wasn't even any music playing. She gave him a thorough going-over. I couldn't get a real good view, but Doug was into it. He and Kelly kept nudging each other. It was obvious that Ian was hard. I looked over at Brenda, but she was just getting into the action too, enjoying the show. Brenda was giving Ian these sexy, longing looks, and making little playful gestures with her tongue. When Resa finally finished, she got up nonchalantly and took her swig and spun the bottle. I had started eyeing Brenda and didn't even realize at first that the bottle had landed on me. "Hey man, pay attention," said Kelly as he gave me a playful punch in the arm. After realizing what had happened, I reached into the hat and took out a piece of paper. "It says: Spend seven minutes in heaven with the person who spun the bottle," I read. Doug started to laugh! And Jamie hollered. "Dude, fuck yeah, lucky bastard! You can use the closet," Kelly said, motioning to the door across the room. I looked up at Resa. She only waited a second to get to her feet, heading for the closet. She gave me this come-hither look. I just grinned and looked at the guys. "See you in seven minutes," I said, as the catcalls followed me to the closet. Resa opened the door to the closet, and then went inside. I followed her and shut the door behind me. The light was dim, but I could see well enough. "Well, hurry up," she said smugly, "We're on the clock." I got on my knees immediately and slid my hands up behind her long, luscious thighs, pulling up her dress. She wasn't wearing any underwear, and her pussy was beautifully shaved. It doesn't get any better than this, I thought, as I moved my lips to her pussy and started licking and sucking, moving my tongue over every nook and cranny. Man, she was getting so wet, and heat emanated from her body in waves. I could feel her warmth on my face, and her musky smell was all over the enclosed space. I set to work on her nether regions with a vengeance, and she started moaning loudly. Man, it was so hot! I just wanted more and more of the taste of her. I could hear the muffled cheering from outside. Resa was very worked up, and she came suddenly. There just was no other word to describe the onslaught from her pussy. She arched her back and held my face to her pussy as she finished. I stood up when she was done and pulled her dress up and over her head, so that all she had on was a lacy black bra. I expertly moved my hand to her back to undo the clasp.She was feeling the same urgency I was, and she moved her hands over my chest and down my back, groping to get under my shirt. She quickly had the buttons undone, and my chest was naked. I had taken my hand and started cupping and stroking her gorgeous breast as I moved my tongue down to suck on her nipple. Her moans got louder. My breathing got heavier. The noise outside increased. I can't imagine what everyone else outside was thinking. Resa and I were so busy we were knocking stuff around everywhere without a care. I knew I had to have her, and my cock felt like steel. Her hands were all over me. I reached behind her to cup her ass, pulling her close. "Oh, your muscles," she sighed, feeling me, a sense of urgency in her voice, "You... are... so... hard... all... over." "Darlin'," I groaned in turn, "I wanna fuck you." "Oh," she moaned, "Go ahead. I want you right now." I quickly pulled my emergency condom out of my wallet, which along with two others I kept for situations like this, as she reached down to help me with my belt. Once it was loose, my jeans fell to the floor. I pushed my boxers down too. I still had on my shoes, but I was in way too big a hurry to worry about them and get my jeans all the way off. I slipped the condom on. I grabbed her firmly by her ass and lifted her up to take better advantage of the situation. Using the back wall of the closet to pin her up against, and to keep my balance, I positioned her over my throbbing dick. "I hope you're ready for the big time, darlin'!" I said. "Hurry up!" she said impatiently, "I've waited all night for that fucking cock!" I didn't need a further invitation. I knew where her hole was, and I slid her down my nearly ten-inch flagpole, gravity doing most of the work for us. What a fucking salute! I needed a second just to catch my breath. Her pussy gripped me like a vice, and with an intense heat. It was so velvety smooth. My animal lust kicked in, and I started moving her up and down on my prick like there was no tomorrow. She had some incredible control, and she really knew how to work the muscles in her cunt. Her tits were crushed against my chest, and I could feel her hard nipples imprinted on my chest. "Come on, baby," she whispered in my ear, "Fuck me harder." I didn't think I could get any harder! I was having trouble getting the leverage, and I was getting a workout just keeping her in the air. Just then, the closet door opened. "Your seven minutes are up already!" I heard Kelly say. I wasn't stopping for anyone. This Latina slut was going to get the ride of her life. "Man," I said to him, "Can't you see I'm in the middle of something?" Kelly just laughed, "I can see that, man. I just thought maybe you two wanted to join the rest of us." I turned my head to get a better look and realized that Kelly was standing there buck-ass naked. "Well alright, man," I laughed, "We'll be with you in a minute!" I kept pumping into Resa, and she was in full swing. I think she was cumming again from the moist, wet feeling I felt on my balls. Her moans went into overdrive, and her fingers gripped the muscles of my back. I thought now would be the time to finish the bitch off. I went into overdrive, from merely hard thrusting to the rhythm of a jackhammer. I was, as Jamie would have put it, like a hamster in heat. Resa's pussy was flexing in response, and her juices were now flooding down my balls to my thighs. Understandably, as it is a pretty intense experience to be fucked by an almost ten-inch dick. "You ready for me to cum, bitch?" I snarled at her. My balls were churning, and I let loose, my cum squirting up in the condom buried deep inside her. I kept thrusting to make the most of the sensation. And damn it all, I think the bitch was even cumming again! When I finally finished, I continued to hold her up for a minute as we kissed full on the mouth. Kissing after sex is so fucking hot. My dick had gotten softer, and it pulled out of her as I lifted her up and off of me, setting her gently on the ground. I threw the used condom on the floor. Resa smiled at me, gave me a sexy little flick of her tongue, and walked out of the closet into the den. I took a second to take off the rest of my clothes and followed her to see what was going on. When I stepped outside, I saw that Doug, Kelly, and Jamie were all standing around Amy. And Amy was on her hands and knees giving Doug one hell of a blowjob. Kelly and Jamie were both holding their dicks, slowly stroking them. I turned my head and saw Ian on top of his girl Brenda, really nailing it to her on top of the couch. Resa didn't waste any time. She walked over to Jamie and pulled him to her by grabbing on to his pecker. She got on her knees and started to suck him off. "Hey, man," I called over to him, "You should try that hole, it's tight." He just let his head fall back and said, "Oh, yeah, man." I was more interested in Brenda at that point. My cock sprang back like it had a life of its own. It had the right idea. Ian had started to groan louder, and in a couple of seconds, he came in his girl's pussy, grunting. He just stood there, and I was feeling the need to fuck. I went over to him and muscled him off Brenda, his dick making a slurping sound as it was pulled out. He just looked at me stunned. Although we were the same height, my frame was much thicker than his, densely packed with muscle from eight intense years of working out. I made one tough-looking customer, and I knew he didn't want to mess with me. Looking down, I surveyed his little dick and wondered how it kept a girl like Brenda satisfied. "Hey, pencil dick," I asked him, motioning to the armchair, "Why don't you go over there and amuse yourself?" Turning back to Brenda, I said, "Are you ready for a little more action, darlin'? Want to feel some real meat in your pussy?" She smiled traitorously at me, "Bring it on, stud!" Ian didn't make a move. I sat down on the couch, and she got down on her knees right away and started sucking my dick. I like a suck as much as the next guy, but I was in the mood for a little tighter, wetter action. I fucking love sloppy seconds. Maybe it's the fact that I'm a country boy at heart or that I was brought up to share. I just don't know, but I love used cunt. When I do a virgin, she always seems to have some pain taking all my nearly ten inches of big, thick dick. Find a used fuck hole, and you never have any problems! Still feels tight, but goes in like a well-oiled machine after a few strokes. "Get on your knees, bitch!" I ordered her. Ian eyed me wearily. "Give your boyfriend a blowjob," I told her. Ian apparently didn't need any more excuse. He moved off that armchair so fast I thought I saw smoke. He was in front of her, and soon she was sucking on his hardening dick. "Okay, darlin', hold on!" I instructed Brenda. I wanted her bareback, so that I could feel all that warm pussy juice and wet cum. I slid myself inside her damp, wet and waiting hole. She was not as tight as Resa, but considering that she had just been fucked by Ian's little pencil dick, she was feeling none too bad around my cock. I was going to give her a good stretching to remember my passing. Ian said to me, "Man, you know she's never fucked anyone but me before." Strangely, however, he didn't seem too bothered anymore. Probably because his dick was in her mouth. I know it's been my experience that I'll agree to just about anything while I'm getting a blowjob. Ian was probably no different. "There's a first time for everything," I told him, pulling out momentarily to survey my handiwork. "She's had the man, now it's time to have the legend." "Quit talking," she told me, pausing for a second from servicing her boyfriend. She was wet and still juicing, cum and pussy juice all mixing together. I pushed inside her again, my dick getting well-oiled in the process. I slid in and out of her pussy a couple more times and decided to go all the way. Ian's cum had my dick really lubed, so I pulled out and positioned myself against the tender cheeks of her ass. My tip was wedged against the bud of her asshole. In retrospect, I probably could have been gentler, but with the amount of alcohol I drank that night, I was feeling a little mean. I pressed against her. The head of my cock felt so big and thick against her tight sphincter. I pressed and pressed and pressed, and then I was in. I pushed some more and pushed and shoved, her whole body shaking, as I forced myself further into her. She opened her eyes in pain and surprise and tried to scream out, but whatever came out was muffled around Ian's prick. And then my thighs were pressed fully against her ass, lost in my own masculine power, and feeling really, really big inside her really, really tight space. I groaned and grunted, "Oh, baby...you're so fucking tight!" I needed to tell her. She deserved to know. She was so tight that it was actually hurting slightly; her virgin ass was stretched like never before. I withdrew a bit and then suddenly pushed deeper. Then I withdrew, and thrust deeper, and deeper, and suddenly, my balls were slapping against her pussy. I was all the way in, filling her insides to the hilt, totally stuffing her. Ian looked over at me and said, "Whoa, dude! You ass fucking her, man? The bitch never let me do that before." I just ignored him, lost in my own little world. I looked over to see Resa moving up and down on top of Jamie's dick. Amy, meanwhile, was servicing both Kelly and Doug in a classic double penetration: one filling up either end of her. I began to thrust slowly, real slow, to get her used to it. Then I built up the tempo, and began to thrust faster and faster and faster.Within a few minutes, I was pistoning in and out happily, balls slapping against her pussy, and she was pushing back on me! "Yee haw!" I crowed, slapping her ass a few times. It felt really good now. I began to stroke her pussy as I pumped into her, my thick fingers strumming her clit, playing with it. Brenda's pussy began to undulate in an orgasm. She came and came. I was more than obliging, playing with her, stimulating her to the best orgasm of her young life. I could feel that little tingle in my balls telling me that I wasn't going to be too far behind her. As she continued cumming, in perfect timing, I came too. Our bodies tensed and shuddered together, and we were locked for that moment. I felt so big inside her, and that sense of fullness just overwhelmed my senses. I pumped my load deep into her ass. Catching my breath, I shrank and pulled out from her gaping hole with a popping sound. Looking down, her asshole gaped open, but it slowly shrank back to its usual size. She was panting around Ian's cock, as her sucking of him returned to a more leisurely pace. This party was in full swing now. I walked across the room, passing Resa, who was by now being nailed by both Kelly and Doug. I went up to Jamie, who was fucking Amy's pussy. His eyes had that glazed look that told me he was nearly there, so I started to stroke my dick in anticipation. After a couple of minutes, he pulled out of her and said, "All yours, man." I didn't wait long to take up the invitation. I wanted to see if she was like I had imagined her to be. I knelt down over her and slipped into her waiting pussy. I pushed my dick forward with a gentle thrust of my hips, and the pink lips of her horny pussy parted for me and allowed the head of my thick shaft inside. She had been so well lubed by Jamie, Kelly, and Doug that it was pretty much like slipping on a satin glove. I let her silky, wet hole contain me as I moved in inch by inch, stroking in and out, slowly trying to get every bit of sensation out of her as I could. "Man!" she groaned, arching her head back and closing her eyes. I was in complete heaven; the top portion of my cock was engulfed in Amy's warm insides. I pushed harder, squeezing a full half of my dick inside her. Even as wet as she was, I had to stop as her tightness would not allow me in any further. She was that tight, and I was that big. She opened her eyes, looking up at me lustfully. Her chest was heaving as she gasped for breath. I felt her run both hands down my back until they locked onto my bare ass. She pulled me forward, needing more of me inside. I could feel my rod keep sliding a little further into her pussy, as it was slowly enveloped. "Oh, fuck!" she sighed, wriggling her pussy upwards, gobbling up the last of my dick. I held myself inside her, grunting, relishing the sensation of my entire cock buried in her oven. She gently ran her toes up and down my legs. Her cunt was stretched to the limit! I began to slowly slide my manhood in and out of her tightness, using long strokes. My lips were on hers, kissing her urgently as we made love. My tongue shot into her mouth as my shaft shot into her tunnel. As I moved in and out of her a little faster, her hands grabbed at my ass, urging me onward. She moaned into my mouth, an orgasm quickly rising within her. Her tongue shot eagerly into my mouth. I couldn't get enough of her. I could have given her my cock all damn night long! I broke our kiss, holding myself up on my arms. Looking down between us, I saw my raised hips, and slid most of my dick out of her body. I could see my slick rod when I looked down between my legs. Her chest was heaving, breasts jiggling like some divine Venus. Then I thrust hard, sliding my cock home. She cried loudly. I began to drill into her, my long dick jabbing in and out of her needy hole as fast as I could manage. She was losing it; the sensations overwhelming me too. "Oh, fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" she hollered, suddenly cumming, drenching my dick and the carpet. I was really groaning. She raised her feet up into the air, prolonging the sensation as I hammered in and out of her helpless body. I looked down at her quivering flesh. Her eyebrows were raised in ecstasy, and her eyes were closed. She was amazing! I continued fucking her as she recovered from her incredible orgasm. But I decided to catch her off guard and prolong our pleasure. I slipped my cock out of her soaking wet pussy with an audible slurping noise. Kneeling between her legs, I grabbed her head roughly, raising her into a seated position. My cock was an inch from her face, and Amy had no choice but to take it. She grabbed me and shoved me into her mouth, sliding her lips down my shaft hungrily. Her own pussy taste coated my dick. She slid her lips up and down sloppily, sucked loudly without missing a beat. I placed my hand underneath her chin and raised her head up. My cock popped out of her mouth, and she looked up at me. I grabbed her by the shoulders and gently urged her onto her hands and knees. I intended to take her doggie style, but when I saw that beautiful ass sticking up at me, I couldn't help myself. I had to kiss it. I kissed her right cheek, and then kissed her left one. I began to lick and shower kisses all over her smooth white ass as she knelt helplessly before me. My lips trailed closer and closer to the crack of her ass, and my hands grabbed her cheeks, squeezing them. I spread her cheeks wide, exposing the swollen pink lips of her pussy to me. Then I buried my face in her gorgeous ass, my tongue sliding into her pussy again and again. I was staring right at her tight little asshole as my tongue tasted her delicious juices. Amy moaned. I sucked her pussy lips into my mouth, my hands still caressing her ass, spreading it as wide as I could. I loved looking at that tight little asshole, and the more I looked at it, the more I wanted it. Amy was still on her hands and knees, breasts hanging beneath her, panting as she felt me lap at her pussy. Her eyes were closed, and I could feel yet another orgasm begin to stir within her. I let my tongue leave her slit and slowly lick up the skin between her pussy and her asshole. My tongue slowly circled the rim of her asshole. I kissed her pussy again, and she gasped. Then I slowly licked up the skin to her asshole and dipped my tongue inside. "Oh, Marc," she whispered, overcome by the sensation. She was at my mercy, one hundred percent. I circled my tongue around just inside her asshole, my hands spreading her cheeks. I slid my tongue further into her ass, burying my face in her crack as I worshipped her beautiful body. I could take it no longer. I pulled my face back, giving her ass one more kiss before getting on my knees behind her. She was panting, her legs subtly opening wider as she anticipated being entered once more. I grabbed my fat cock in my hand and slapped her playfully on the ass with it. This may be the only time I would have the chance to do this with her, and I was taking full advantage of it! I slowly ran the head of my dick down the crack of her ass. She sucked in her breath when she felt my probing member touch the sensitive lips of her treasure. I rubbed it hard against her slit, up and down, up and down. Amy was squirming, unable to take much more. "Put it in!" she whined. How could I argue? I pushed forward, and the head of my cock forced the petals of her pussy wide open, and I slipped inside. Amy was so wet that I sank my entire dick inside her in one hard thrust. She cried out, arching her head back. I went in so deep! I had her hips in a tight grip, pressing my groin hard against her ass. I was relishing the feeling of having her warmth completely surrounding me. "Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!" she moaned loudly, filling the room. The rhythmic slapping noises filled the room as I slammed my long, fat cock deep inside her over and over. Her cheeks rippled with each impact as I fucked her as hard as I could. My hands gripped her hips hard, preventing her from being driven right through the wall. I was banging off the back of her cunt. At the same time, my balls felt so good slapping against her clit. Our fucking had gotten the attention of the others as Kelly and Doug started cheering me on. "Yeah, man," one of them said, "Fuck her harder!" "Go, man, go!" said the other. I smiled just as Amy moaned with another orgasm overtaking her. I continued fucking her mercilessly as she came all around me. Her tits were swinging back and forth to the rhythm. I didn't think that I would last much longer if the current state of affairs continued. I would cum soon, and there was nothing I could do to put it off. Amy was just too incredible! I wanted to cum all over her beautiful body. I looked up at the guys and had an idea. "Want a little four-way, guys?" I asked. They looked at each other and then at me. I could see 'yes' written in their eyes. I slid my long cock out of Amy's body, and she found herself being flipped over helplessly in the air until she was on top of me. I lifted her up until the tip of my cock was barely in her, then I slammed her back down on me. Now she was slowly riding up and down on my python. But her pussy still held me deeply inside her tight cunt. I dug my fingers into the cheeks of her ass, which were sticky with her cum. Amy started playing with her tits as she rode me. I felt someone's cock brush against my leg. I saw Jamie stroking his cock in one hand. Suddenly, in one quick jab, he had pushed his cock deep in her ass. She gasped in response, her back arched, and her breasts rose up towards the waiting hands of Doug. Jamie's strokes grew long and hard.Kelly appeared beside me and moved his mouth over her breast, sucking on her nipple. I brought my hand down towards her slit to play with her clit while my cock thrust inside her, getting into a rhythm with Jamie's. Kelly sucked and nibbled away at her like a hungry baby. Doug climbed up over the fray and made her take his cock in her lips. I looked up to see his balls swinging free as his cock entered her mouth. Jamie finished his business and pulled his dirty cock from her hole. Suddenly, in a flash, Ian was there to finally get a taste of ass as he pressed his mushroom tip to her asshole and planted his engorged member deep into her ass next to my cock in her cunt. He began to wildly thrust, but after five strokes, he was pumping his cum far inside her along with Jamie's. "Oh, God," Amy moaned, pulling away from Doug. Sensing my opportunity, being the only person left inside her, I flipped her onto her back and thrust into her fast and deep. Her feet were bouncing off my ass as I pounded her into the floor. The men watched us as my ass flexed over and over again, forcing my cock deep inside her. Each was pulling on his cock. "Oh, God," I cried finally, "I'm gonna cum!" I grunted a couple times, closed my eyes as my member glided in and out of her hungry pussy over and over again. "Oh, yes!" she moaned, smiling up at me. I could feel myself lose it and pulled out just in time to fire a long, thick stream of hot cum out the end of my cock all over her stomach and pussy. It dripped in thick ropes of white. I grunted as my dick twitched, unleashing the last few jets. We were both out of breath. Things got really hazy after that point. Jamie, Ian, and I sat around drinking beers for a while. Resa had left by that point, and before the night was through, Amy and Brenda got into a little lesbian action, to which Doug and I joined in at the end. It was like being trapped in some weird porn flick, seeing my frat brother Doug sitting on the couch, while Brenda eased herself up and down onto his dick. They were both facing me. Her eyes were closed, but Doug looked me right in the eye with this crooked little smile. All the while, Amy was giving a good, hard ride. Meanwhile, Ian had totally lightened up into a cool guy. Finally, in the early hours of the morning, I decided to go to bed. I hadn't sat around jerking off with another guy since I was twelve and discovered my brother's collection of dirty magazines. I had had the sense to lock my room before the party started, so I didn't have to kick anyone out. When my head hit the pillow, I was out. I didn't remember anything else for some time... But at some point, I dreamt about something warm and wet down near my crotch. I imagined this girl named Sherry that I had met at a party last weekend. We had gone back to her place and fucked, I think she was in my English Lit class. Oh, I was getting into this wet dream. When I reached down to give my boner a stroke, I felt silky hair instead. Half asleep, I realized that the good feeling on my dick wasn't just a dream. I awoke fully and looked down. Some chick was going down on me while I was asleep!	null	null	Authors/Eagle1/College/lady_red.txt
72,768	null	The Car Ride	You met me at the airport. All the stress from flying seemed to melt away when I saw you standing by the gate, your smile greeting me with an unspoken promise. It was the first time we actually met, but it didn't seem like it. I walked up to where you were standing, and you put your arms around me and hugged me like it was the most natural thing in the world. As we broke from the embrace, I looked deeply into your soft eyes, and then I kissed you. If that surprised you, you didn't let it show, and your warm lips kissed me back. The soft sensuality of our kiss caused a stirring in my loins, and I could feel an arousal start. We broke from our kiss, and you looked me in the eye with a look that told me you had felt it, too. As we had agreed, I had rented a car, so we walked outside to the curb. I didn't ask you how you had gotten to the airport. I didn't know if someone had dropped you off, or if you had parked your car somewhere, so it was available, just in case we didn't hit it off at all. That suddenly didn't seem to matter, anymore. The attraction that had begun online had continued in person. The sensual tension that was between us now was palpable... I can't remember what we talked about on the short bus ride over to Hertz. All I could think of was how good your body had felt, pressed up against me when we kissed... and how your perfume seemed to linger with me, even now. The car I rented was a red Mustang convertible. It was late spring in Kansas City, and if the weather stayed like this, the top would be down most of the time. We started driving. You told me you knew a great place for us to get something to eat, and you gave me instructions, and before I knew it, we were speeding along some highway, the airport far behind us, and the rolling hills sprawled out before us. We were heading somewhere towards Overton, but that was the last sign I remember. "How are you feeling about all of this right now?" you ask me. "I think you pretty much know," I said with a smile. You laughed. "Well, I thought I did. But I wanted to be sure. You know.. maybe you had a roll of quarters in your pocket or something." I laugh. "You can't tell the difference?" "Sometimes." "Well, thanks at least for not saying `roll of dimes' in my pocket," You shake your head. "No... I wouldn't say that. I would say quarters... easy." I nod, accepting the compliment. "And what about you?" I ask. "What about me?" "Well, I mean, it's unfair being a guy. You can tell these things when we just kiss. It's harder for me to know." "Oh," you say. "Well... you know when I kissed you?" "I remember, yes." "Know how it affected you... there?" "Oh yes." "Well... yours was just responding to the heat of mine..." "Really?" "Don't believe me?" "If I say I don't... will you prove it?" I look over at you... the scenery is a blur behind you as we speed along. You have a sexy smile on your face. "Be careful what you ask for," you say arching an eyebrow at me. "You might get it." "Oh," I say, and meet your gaze. "I wasn't aware I was... asking..." You look at me in mock surprise. "Are you demanding?" I hold your gaze for a moment, then have to look at the road again. "I think it's somewhere between asking and demanding." I hear your seatbelt unbuckle. "Well... since you asked... or demanded... whatever... so nicely..." I hear a rustle of cloth, and I chance a look back over. You have rearranged yourself so you are sitting with your back against the door. You have hiked your skirt up, and positioned your legs in a decidedly unladylike manner. My eyes flick back to the road for a moment, then return to hungrily devour the sight. "Thong?" "Actually... a little skimpy for a thong," you say, your voice now a husky whisper. "I would call it a G-String. Oh...wait... I forgot..." With a smile, you reach into your purse, and pull out a very small pair of scissors... the kind used to trim nails and cuticles. "We said... no strings attached.... Didn't we?" Slowly.. deliberately... you snip the black lace at your hip. With two snips, you pull the scanty lace cloth away, revealing your moist sex to me. You toss the panties into my lap. "That what you wanted?" It seems crazy... since we just met... but somehow... in another way... it seems so natural. We had felt it first online. Then during our calls together. Those late night calls, when the kids were in bed, and we spoke in blatantly honest terms about what we were looking for.. what we needed... The times where we had been laying in our separate beds.. just the phone line between us... and nothing but a sheet covering... As though you were there... The voices sounding so sexy... the sounds creating vivid images in our minds... It was a connection that was impossible to describe. It was that connection... that feeling... which had brought me here to begin with... And now... You sit there in a pose, legs spread apart, pussy completely exposed. I can see how you glisten, even in the faint dashboard light. You are enjoying my gaze. You know how you are affecting me. You are reveling in your sensuality. I may be driving the car... but you are driving me crazy... I try to speak, and have to clear my throat. "It's certainly a start," I say. You smile, and slowly lean over towards me. The car is still speeding along somewhere into the night. I have no idea where, and I no longer care. It no longer is taking us to any destination. Our destination is here... inside... "Speaking of a start," you say, looking down at my crotch meaningfully. Actually, what was going on there was more than a start. Your display had aroused me completely. And there could be no denying it... or hiding it... not that I wanted to do either. "Quarters," you whispered into my ear, your hot breath sending chills across me. "I would say..." I feel your hand grasp my hardness through my trousers, and my breath catches. You lick my earlobe playfully. "Shall we see for sure?" you ask, and did not wait for my reply... which was a good thing since I couldn't talk. I feel your hands tug at my belt, and then it is undone. You fumble for a moment at the catch, but then I feel it give way. The zipper parts willingly. We had chatted about thongs and G-Strings... and I had gone shopping before I left Dallas. I really never wore anything but briefs, but in our last phone conversation, you had playfully told me that if you came to meet me wearing a thong, that I should too. As a private joke, I had purchased a skimpy thong and worn it. It barely covered me when I was flaccid. It offered no covering at all as I was now. My erection jutted out the side of the thong, pushing the covering aside as though it were a mere inconvenience. My bare cock rose out of my lap, the thong simply gathering at the base of it, like I was tied in a bow for your inspection. "Oh, my," you say. "What have we here?" You pull at the thong. My cock is throbbing in the night... exposed... but ignored. You do not touch it yet. "Strings," you say. You reach back over to your seat, and I hear the scissors snipping again. Everything is magnified in the space of the car. The front window shows signs of steam. I feel you tug, and then feel the sliding of fabric against my balls and ass... and then my thong is gone. I look at you, and I see you hold the pouch of the thong to your face. It is an incredibly bold and sexy gesture. "Did I ever tell you that I love the way a man smells?" You deliberately inhale. "Nice. You put cologne on your cock... don't you?" I still can't speak, so I just nod. You lean close to me, your warm lips at my ear. "That really turns me on..." Your hand finally grasps my bare cock. I moan. You squeeze it. And I feel a tremor run all of the way through me. "How well can you drive while distracted?" you breathe in my ear. "Try me," I whisper. You laugh and nibble my ear. "Doin' OK so far?" "Piece of cake," I say. "It gets harder," you say as you lick my neck. "I love a challenge," I say. You kiss your way down my neck, and I flip the cruise control on. I feel you pull my pants down a little... and I feel your hot breath on the aroused skin of my manhood. Somehow, I manage to turn the car towards the open road, and flick on the defogger. "You have a really nice dick," I hear you say. "Has anyone ever told you that?" I am about to reply, when your tongue flicks across the underside of my cockhead... and my answer is lost in a moan. "I think you like that," I hear you laugh. "You're still on the road, aren't you?" As an answer, I grasp your hair, and push you back down into my crotch. I hear you gasp... then sigh. "Mmmmm... I like that." Your words come out in a hot breath that electrifies me. Then you start licking me. At first, they are soft, and tentative... but then you start taking command.My hand is tangled in your hair, but no longer pushing. Now I am holding on for dear life as you expertly lick me. Your tongue works its way up and down the shaft of my cock. Then it flicks across my balls. I moan and spread my legs... your tongue licks down further... then up one thigh... all the while, you hold my rigid dick at the base, and it pulses in your hand. Then you lick up and down the shaft, wetting it, your tongue gliding up the smooth skin. Finally, after teasing me for what seems like forever, you take it into your soft mouth. The warmth surrounds me, and I want to close my eyes... but can't. Thank God for cruise control! My legs feel like putty; I don't think I could push the gas pedal. You pull your lips away from my glistening cock, and I hear a soft popping sound as it comes free. "Mmmm... I love the way you smell... all covered with my licks." You are driving me crazy. How do you know not just what to do, but what to say? "Now, you realize... if you cum you lose." My breath is ragged. "Lose?" I say. "Seems to me like I win..." You lick around my cockhead before you answer. "Oh no. You lose. You see... when we stop this car... you need to fuck me. I mean... I need it bad. You saw how wet I was... And if you cum now, and go soft on me... Well.. you can't leave me like this. I won't allow it. So, you will have to lick me.. and keep licking me... using your lips and tongue to keep me hot and horny, until your dick can get hard again, so you can fuck me. I will not permit a limp dick to enter me. It's one firm rule I have. I want it like this..." You shake my cock back and forth to emphasize. I am rock hard. "Like I said," I breathe. "Seems to me like I win..." You laugh. "I can cum for hours," you say, "you may be servicing me all night." "Like I said... I love a challenge..." "So do I," you say, and then you start working on me in earnest. You lick at my cockhead all around the ridge, and flick your tongue across the very tip. "I...um..." I say as you lick me. "Yes?" You stop and look up at me. "That's great... but my tip gets real sensitive as I get close to cumming." "Like now?" "Yes." You playfully bite me. "Sissy," you say. But you move your licking down a little lower, right below the ridge of my cockhead. And then you start stroking my shaft at the same time, the wetness from your sucking providing the lubrication. I grab the steering wheel with trembling hands. You know exactly what you are doing. I am not going to last long. In a moment, I feel the pressure building. I want to tell you. Warn you it is coming. But I can't breathe. I explode. The first stream surprises you, and I hear you react. But you stroke faster as you realize I am coming, and now you draw it out of me, as though it comes from my very soul. I hear you moaning in delight as you watch me cum... a tribute to your lovemaking. I am lost in the orgasm. Wetness is everywhere. Neither of us planned for what to do when I exploded, and now I feel it shooting all over the car and us. The tangy smell fills the air. You don't stop until you drain me dry. I feel my satisfied cock relaxing in your hand. You laugh, and sit back up. I can see your face streaked, and you slowly wipe it from you, looking at me in a satisfied way. "How long you been needing that?" I am still panting. "A few weeks. I don't know. When did we first talk?" You look at me and smile. "How long before you can get that back up? I really wasn't done playing." I shake my head. And I look around to discover I have no idea where we are. The highway is long gone. We are on a two-lane road in the middle of nowhere. There is a dirt lane up ahead, and I pull onto it, and then into the grass. "I lose," I said with a smile. "Time for me to pay up." I put the car in park. You smile. You lean back and spread your legs. But I have no intention of rushing this. I get out of the car. My trousers, which are still undone, fall to my ankles, and I step out of them. The night air feels good against my naked and satisfied cock. I walk around to your side of the car and open the door. You didn't know what I was doing, and you practically fall out. I hold you up and help you out of the car. You go to kiss me, but I turn you around... and lean you over the car hood. You moan in anticipation as I pull your miniskirt up to your waist. You are wearing thigh-high stockings. Black. You look incredible like that. Bent over the hood of the red Mustang... skirt up... your perfect ass bared... and stockings running up to your thighs. Your wet mound is just visible as you bend over...waiting... anticipating. I peel your left stocking down to your ankle. I hear you gasp, and see you wiggle your ass. You can hardly stand still. The anticipation, and your need, threaten to overwhelm you. I start at your ankle. Slowly... oh so slowly, licking my way up your left leg. I linger when I reach the back of your knee, and I think you are going to lose it right there. My tongue tickles you...licks you... I gently nip at the back of your knee with my teeth. I hear you gasping "oh my god!" into the hood of the car as I lick you...and then start working higher. I can smell your musk as I sink my teeth into the soft flesh of your inner thigh. You are so wet you are dripping... My hands push your legs apart. You gasp as you feel how exposed, and vulnerable you are... my tongue licks up around the outsides of the flesh of your swollen pussy lips. You moan, your hips rock. You want to be licked... there... we both know it... but I tease... without giving in... yet. Now I lick the flesh of your buttocks.. and again, I let my teeth sink into your skin. Your ass is so firm... feels so good in my teeth... Then I push your ass cheeks apart with my hands... exposing the bud of your asshole. The night air caresses you. You moan again... I lightly blow on you, and I am gratified to hear you gasp once again... I see you grinding your loins into the warm hood of the car... your clit is on fire... aching... Then I flick my tongue through your ass crack. We both knew it was coming... but it shocks you anyway. As my tongue starts to lick with more intent... seeking... finding... and probing your ass... you can hardly believe how incredible it feels... You shamelessly hump the hood of the car now... bucking and responding to every push of my tongue. The car hood is now wet with your juices which are flowing freely. You wonder, as you feel my tongue fuck your ass, if you will cum just from this... but then, I stop... my tongue... and mouth are gone. You collapse against the hood, whimpering in need. And then you feel it... You feel the tip of my cock against your aching, needy pussy. And you moan in utter surprise, as you feel my rigid member slide into you effortlessly... your wetness so complete there is no resistance at all to my thrust... and I enter you. My lips are next to your ear as I hold my cock deep inside you. "One thing I forgot to say," I whisper. "Seeing a woman in black stockings is a real turn-on for me." "I guess so," you breathe. I reach down with my left hand, sliding it between the car and your loins, until my fingers find your clit which is as hard as an erect nipple. You moan. "Oh God... I ...ohhhh..." I start stroking you now... and my cock moves in and out of you in rhythm with my hand. "Now then... how much do you want to bet that you cum before I do?" You are panting... and you can feel your orgasm building. "No bets." You say. "OK... tell you what... you cum all over my cock... and then I'll pull it out and show you how nice my dick looks all wet from your cum..." "Promise?" you say, your breath ragged. "Cum... for... me... now..." I say thrusting harder... my hand sliding up and down your wet clit. "I'm not asking... I'm telling you... you be a good girl for me now... and ... cum... all ... over ... that... dick... that you were sucking... and kissing... you know... that... big... hard ... cock... you cum on it now... all over it... now... Tammy... you cum for me right now..." And you do...	null	null	Authors/TexasStranger/The Car Ride.txt
72,773	TexasStranger	The Car Ride	You met me at the airport. All the stress from flying seemed to melt away when I saw you standing by the gate, your smile greeting me with an unspoken promise. It was the first time we actually met, but it didn't seem like it. I walked up to where you were standing, and you put your arms around me and hugged me like it was the most natural thing in the world. As we broke from the embrace, I looked deeply into your soft eyes, and then I kissed you. If that surprised you, you didn't let it show, and your warm lips kissed me back. The soft sensuality of our kiss caused a stirring in my loins, and I could feel an arousal start. We broke from our kiss, and you looked me in the eye with a look that told me you had felt it, too. As we had agreed, I had rented a car, so we walked outside to the curb. I didn't ask you how you had gotten to the airport. I didn't know if someone had dropped you off, or if you had parked your car somewhere, so it was available, just in case we didn't hit it off at all. That suddenly didn't seem to matter, anymore. The attraction that had begun online had continued in person. The sensual tension that was between us now was palpable... I can't remember what we talked about on the short bus ride over to Hertz. All I could think of was how good your body had felt, pressed up against me when we kissed... and how your perfume seemed to linger with me, even now. The car I rented was a red Mustang convertible. It was late spring in Kansas City, and if the weather stayed like this, the top would be down most of the time. We started driving. You told me you knew a great place for us to get something to eat, and you gave me instructions, and before I knew it, we were speeding along some highway, the airport far behind us, and the rolling hills sprawled out before us. We were heading somewhere towards Overton, but that was the last sign I remember. "How are you feeling about all of this right now?" you ask me. "I think you pretty much know," I said with a smile. You laughed. "Well, I thought I did. But I wanted to be sure. You know.. maybe you had a roll of quarters in your pocket or something." I laugh. "You can't tell the difference?" "Sometimes." "Well, thanks at least for not saying 'roll of dimes' in my pocket," You shake your head. "No... I wouldn't say that. I would say quarters... easy." I nod, accepting the compliment. "And what about you?" I ask. "What about me?" "Well, I mean, it's unfair being a guy. You can tell these things when we just kiss. It's harder for me to know." "Oh," you say. "Well... you know when I kissed you?" "I remember, yes." "Know how it affected you... there?" "Oh yes." "Well... yours was just responding to the heat of mine..." "Really?" "Don't believe me?" "If I say I don't... will you prove it?" I look over at you... the scenery is a blur behind you as we speed along. You have a sexy smile on your face. "Be careful what you ask for," you say arching an eyebrow at me. "You might get it." "Oh," I say, and meet your gaze. "I wasn't aware I was... asking..." You look at me in mock surprise. "Are you demanding?" I hold your gaze for a moment, then have to look at the road again. "I think it's somewhere between asking and demanding." I hear your seatbelt unbuckle. "Well... since you asked... or demanded... whatever... so nicely..." I hear a rustle of cloth, and I chance a look back over. You have rearranged yourself so you are sitting with your back against the door. You have hiked your skirt up, and positioned your legs in a decidedly unladylike manner. My eyes flick back to the road for a moment, then return to hungrily devour the sight. "Thong?" "Actually... a little skimpy for a thong," you say, your voice now a husky whisper. "I would call it a G-String. Oh...wait... I forgot..." With a smile, you reach into your purse, and pull out a very small pair of scissors... the kind used to trim nails and cuticles. "We said... no strings attached.... Didn't we?" Slowly.. deliberately... you snip the black lace at your hip. With two snips, you pull the scanty lace cloth away, revealing your moist sex to me. You toss the panties into my lap. "That what you wanted?" It seems crazy... since we just met... but somehow... in another way... it seems so natural. We had felt it first online. Then during our calls together. Those late night calls, when the kids were in bed, and we spoke in blatantly honest terms about what we were looking for.. what we needed... The times where we had been laying in our separate beds.. just the phone line between us... and nothing but a sheet covering... As though you were there... The voices sounding so sexy... the sounds creating vivid images in our minds... It was a connection that was impossible to describe. It was that connection... that feeling... which had brought me here to begin with... And now... You sit there in a pose, legs spread apart, pussy completely exposed. I can see how you glisten, even in the faint dashboard light. You are enjoying my gaze. You know how you are affecting me. You are reveling in your sensuality. I may be driving the car... but you are driving me crazy... I try to speak, and have to clear my throat. "It's certainly a start," I say. You smile, and slowly lean over towards me. The car is still speeding along somewhere into the night. I have no idea where, and I no longer care. It no longer is taking us to any destination. Our destination is here... inside... "Speaking of a start," you say, looking down at my crotch meaningfully. Actually, what was going on there was more than a start. Your display had aroused me completely. And there could be no denying it... or hiding it... not that I wanted to do either. "Quarters," you whispered into my ear, your hot breath sending chills across me. "I would say..." I feel your hand grasp my hardness through my trousers, and my breath catches. You lick my earlobe playfully. "Shall we see for sure?" you ask, and did not wait for my reply... which was a good thing since I couldn't talk. I feel your hands tug at my belt, and then it is undone. You fumble for a moment at the catch, but then I feel it give way. The zipper parts willingly. We had chatted about thongs and G-Strings... and I had gone shopping before I left Dallas. I really never wore anything but briefs, but in our last phone conversation, you had playfully told me that if you came to meet me wearing a thong, that I should too. As a private joke, I had purchased a skimpy thong and worn it. It barely covered me when I was flaccid. It offered no covering at all as I was now. My erection jutted out the side of the thong, pushing the covering aside as though it were a mere inconvenience. My bare cock rose out of my lap, the thong simply gathering at the base of it, like I was tied in a bow for your inspection. "Oh, my," you say. "What have we here?" You pull at the thong. My cock is throbbing in the night... exposed... but ignored. You do not touch it yet. "Strings," you say. You reach back over to your seat, and I hear the scissors snipping again. Everything is magnified in the space of the car. The front window shows signs of steam. I feel you tug, and then feel the sliding of fabric against my balls and ass... and then my thong is gone. I look at you, and I see you hold the pouch of the thong to your face. It is an incredibly bold and sexy gesture. "Did I ever tell you that I love the way a man smells?" You deliberately inhale. "Nice. You put cologne on your cock... don't you?" I still can't speak, so I just nod. You lean close to me, your warm lips at my ear. "That really turns me on..." Your hand finally grasps my bare cock. I moan. You squeeze it. And I feel a tremor run all the way through me. "How well can you drive while distracted?" you breathe in my ear. "Try me," I whisper. You laugh and nibble my ear. "Doin' OK so far?" "Piece of cake," I say. "It gets harder," you say as you lick my neck. "I love a challenge," I say. You kiss your way down my neck, and I flip the cruise control on. I feel you pull my pants down a little... and I feel your hot breath on the aroused skin of my manhood. Somehow, I manage to turn the car towards the open road, and flick on the defogger. "You have a really nice dick," I hear you say. "Has anyone ever told you that?" I am about to reply, when your tongue flicks across the underside of my cockhead... and my answer is lost in a moan. "I think you like that," I hear you laugh. "You're still on the road, aren't you?" As an answer, I grasp your hair, and push you back down into my crotch. I hear you gasp... then sigh. "Mmmmm... I like that." Your words come out in a hot breath that electrifies me. Then you start licking me. At first, they are soft, and tentative... but then you start taking command. My hand is tangled in your hair, but no longer pushing.. now I am holding on for dear life as you expertly lick me. Your tongue works its way up and down the shaft of my cock. Then flicks across my balls. I moan, and spread my legs... your tongue licks down further... then up one thigh... all the while, you hold my rigid dick at the base, and it pulses in your hand. Then you lick up and down the shaft, wetting it, your tongue gliding up the smooth skin. Finally... after teasing me for what seems like forever, you take it into your soft mouth. The warmth surrounds me, and I want to close my eyes... but can't. Thank God for cruise control! My legs feel like putty; I don't think I could push the gas pedal. You pull your lips away from my glistening cock, and I hear a soft popping sound as it comes free. "Mmmm... I love the way you smell... all covered with my licks." You are driving me crazy.How do you know not just what to do, but what to say? "Now, you realize... if you cum, you lose." My breath is ragged. "Lose?" I say. "Seems to me like I win..." You lick around my cockhead before you answer. "Oh no. You lose. You see... when we stop this car... you need to fuck me. I mean... I need it bad. You saw how wet I was... And if you cum now, and go soft on me... Well.. you can't leave me like this. I won't allow it. So, you will have to lick me.. and keep licking me... using your lips and tongue to keep me hot and horny, until your dick can get hard again, so you can fuck me. I will not permit a limp dick to enter me. It's one firm rule I have. I want it like this..." You shake my cock back and forth to emphasize. I am rock hard. "Like I said," I breathe. "Seems to me like I win..." You laugh. "I can cum for hours," you say, "you may be servicing me all night." "Like I said... I love a challenge..." "So do I," you say, and then you start working on me in earnest. You lick at my cockhead all around the ridge, and flick your tongue across the very tip. "I...um..." I say as you lick me. "Yes?" You stop and look up at me. "That's great... but my tip gets real sensitive as I get close to cumming." "Like now?" "Yes." You playfully bite me. "Sissy," you say. But you move your licking down a little lower, right below the ridge of my cockhead. And then you start stroking my shaft at the same time, the wetness from your sucking providing the lubrication. I grab the steering wheel with trembling hands. You know exactly what you are doing. I am not going to last long. In a moment, I feel the pressure building. I want to tell you. Warn you it is coming. But I can't breathe. I explode. The first stream surprises you, and I hear you react. But you stroke faster as you realize I am coming, and now you draw it out of me, as though it comes from my very soul. I hear you moaning in delight as you watch me cum... a tribute to your lovemaking. I am lost in the orgasm. Wetness is everywhere. Neither of us planned for what to do when I exploded, and now I feel it shooting all over the car and us. The tangy smell fills the air. You don't stop until you drain me dry. I feel my satisfied cock relaxing in your hand. You laugh, and sit back up. I can see your face streaked, and you slowly wipe it from you, looking at me in a satisfied way. "How long you been needing that?" I am still panting. "A few weeks. I don't know. When did we first talk?" You look at me and smile. "How long before you can get that back up? I really wasn't done playing." I shake my head. And I look around to discover I have no idea where we are. The highway is long gone. We are on a two-lane road in the middle of nowhere. There is a dirt lane up ahead, and I pull onto it, and then into the grass. "I lose," I said with a smile. "Time for me to pay up." I put the car in park. You smile. You lean back, and spread your legs. But I have no intention of rushing this. I get out of the car. My trousers, which are still undone, fall to my ankles, and I step out of them. The night air feels good against my naked and satisfied cock. I walk around to your side of the car, and open the door. You didn't know what I was doing, and you practically fall out. I hold you up, and help you out of the car. You go to kiss me, but I turn you around... and lean you over the car hood. You moan, in anticipation as I pull your miniskirt up to your waist. You are wearing thigh-high stockings. Black. You look incredible like that. Bent over the hood of the red Mustang... skirt up... your perfect ass bared... and stockings running up to your thighs. Your wet mound just visible as you bend over...waiting... anticipating. I peel your left stocking down to your ankle. I hear you gasp, and see you wiggle your ass. You can hardly stand still. The anticipation, and your need, threaten to overwhelm you. I start at your ankle. Slowly... oh so slowly, licking my way up your left leg. I linger when I reach the back of your knee, and I think you are going to lose it right there. My tongue tickles you...licks you... I gently nip at the back of your knee with my teeth. I hear you gasping "oh my god!" into the hood of the car as I lick you...and then start working higher. I can smell your musk as I sink my teeth into the soft flesh of your inner thigh. You are so wet you are dripping... My hands push your legs apart. You gasp as you feel how exposed, and vulnerable you are... my tongue licks up around the outsides of the flesh of your swollen pussy lips. You moan, your hips rock. You want to be licked... there... we both know it... but I tease... without giving in... yet. Now I lick the flesh of your buttocks.. and again, I let my teeth sink into your skin. Your ass is so firm... feels so good in my teeth... Then I push your ass cheeks apart with my hands... exposing the bud of your asshole. The night air caresses you. You moan again... I lightly blow on you, and I am gratified to hear you gasp once again... I see you grinding your loins into the warm hood of the car... your clit is on fire... aching... Then I flick my tongue through your ass crack. We both knew it was coming... but it shocks you anyway. As my tongue starts to lick with more intent... seeking... finding... and probing your ass... you can hardly believe how incredible it feels... You shamelessly hump the hood of the car now... bucking and responding to every push of my tongue. The car hood is now wet with your juices which are flowing freely. You wonder, as you feel my tongue fuck your ass, if you will cum just from this... but then, I stop... my tongue... and mouth are gone. You collapse against the hood, whimpering in need. And then you feel it... You feel the tip of my cock against your aching, needy pussy. And you moan in utter surprise, as you feel my rigid member slide into you effortlessly... your wetness so complete there is no resistance at all to my thrust... and I enter you. My lips are next to your ear as I hold my cock deep inside you. "One thing I forgot to say," I whisper. "Seeing a woman in black stockings is a real turn-on for me." "I guess so," you breathe. I reach down with my left hand, sliding it between the car and your loins, until my fingers find your clit which is as hard as an erect nipple. You moan. "Oh God... I ...ohhhh..." I start stroking you now... and my cock moves in and out of you in rhythm with my hand. "Now then... how much do you want to bet that you cum before I do?" You are panting... and you can feel your orgasm building. "No bets," you say. "OK... tell you what... you cum all over my cock... and then I'll pull it out and show you how nice my dick looks all wet from your cum..." "Promise?" you say, your breath ragged. "Cum... for... me... now..." I say, thrusting harder... my hand sliding up and down your wet clit. "I'm not asking... I'm telling you... you be a good girl for me now... and ... cum... all ... over ... that... dick... that you were sucking... and kissing... you know... that... big... hard ... cock... you cum on it now... all over it... now... Tammy... you cum for me right now..." And you do...	null	null	Authors/TexasStranger/www/Stories/The Car Ride.txt
72,779	null	Tired of Being a Nice Guy: Prologue	You could call me a nice guy. I haven't had too many girlfriends, but upon reflection, I realized that they were all what I would consider "high maintenance." Not that I was this absolute doormat, treated like shit by my girlfriends, not at all. The girls that I had gone out with were nice enough to me and treated me reasonably well. They were nice-looking, though certainly not model material. We had nice times. But it was clear to me that in each of my relationships, the woman was the focus. When they wanted to go someplace, we did. I took them around, got them nice things, and did things for them. With sex, we did what they wanted when they wanted it. If they didn't want anything, I had to be content with satisfying myself or with nothing. Again, they were not cruel, and if anything, it was my fault. I was a pushover; I truly cared about them and put up with pretty much anything. My current girlfriend is Becky. We have been together a couple of years. She's about 5'5", brown hair and eyes, a nice chest, a few pounds overweight, but not outrageous. By the way, I'm just over 6 feet, brown hair and eyes as well. I'm no Greek god, but I'm in reasonably good shape, and people have told me that I look pretty good. Our relationship was going like all of them had. She was in a bad mood frequently, angry at many things around her, and as a result, she was often cranky and short-tempered around me, even though she admitted I was not to blame for the way that she felt. While I wouldn't have minded sex on a daily basis, she was frequently not interested, either because she was in a bad mood, or she hadn't showered that evening and doesn't feel clean enough, or she was too tired, or she was just not interested. Even though her body is pretty nice, she has always felt that she was getting too fat, and as a result, she wouldn't wear revealing clothes. On the other hand, she never felt like working out either. So that is what I thought of my life and relationship. I never realized this myself, but one day I came to the realization that I was tired of being the nice guy. I had these relationships where I catered to high-maintenance women, but I had never been catered to. I had always put everyone else first, but I had never been put first. And when I look around at the hot women that were low maintenance (I was definitely NOT interested in a really hot, high-maintenance woman), I realized that the people that they were in relationships with were assholes. These women were with people who treated them badly, and while they bitched and moaned about it, they seemed to get off on it. It got me wondering. While I didn't think I could treat a woman with the complete disdain of the assholes around me, I thought it was time to stop being so nice and to find someone who was going to take care of my needs, do what I wanted, and be at my beck and call. I wasn't sure if I could find someone like that, but I felt I owed myself a chance to try. Of course, that meant that I had to dump Becky. Being the nice guy that I was, I had never dumped anyone before; it was always me being dumped. While I have some experience being dumped, it would be a test of my new selfishness to dump Becky. I had just recently gotten home on a Thursday evening, and Becky was moaning about something again. I felt bad for her, and how the things in her life annoyed her, but it helped me realize that I did not want to be part of it, so I said, "Becky, we have to talk." "What do we have to talk about?" she asked. "I don't want to live with you anymore," I answered. I could not believe that I just came out and said it, but there it was. She looked stunned. "What do you mean? What's wrong? I thought things were going so well!" "Becky," I said, "when we met, and while we have been living together, I was a particular person. You liked me, and you thought everything was good. The problem is that I didn't like me. I don't like who I am, and I don't want to be who I was. I really do like you; I really love you. But now I want to be someone else, and while you are great, I need to be with a different kind of person." Becky had started crying. I could feel my compassion welling up, and I almost felt like comforting her and saying, "Sorry, it's my fault, we can go back to the way we were." But I didn't do that. I needed to change. "I don't understand. What kind of person do you need? How can I do things differently? What can I do to keep you?" she asked. "Becky, I would love to stay with you, but I really feel that what you are and what I am looking for are two completely different things. I don't think you'd want to be the person that I need," I told her. "But I would do anything for you," she responded. "No, you wouldn't," I said. "You'd say you would do anything, but when push came to shove, you wouldn't." "How can you say that?" she asked. "Why won't you give me a chance? What do you want?" "Becky," I explained, "what I want is someone who will listen to me. I want someone who will do what I want. If I want to go out, they will. If I want them to dress sexy, they will. If I wake up horny in the middle of the night and want a blowjob, they won't complain they are too tired. If I walk in and get turned on by them, they won't complain that they haven't washed when I want to eat them out. I want someone who will focus on me, my wants, my needs. I want someone who will do everything I want, simply because I want it. And finally, I want someone who is happy to be with me and happy to be themselves. "I don't think that you are those things. Sure, you'll go out with me, if you are up to it. And you'll dress nice, if you don't think it's too revealing. And you'll happily give me a blowjob and swallow as much come as I can produce, _if_ you are in the mood. But how many times have you said no to me? How many times have I not even asked because I knew you would say no? And are you really happy with yourself, because from the amount of time that you spend complaining about things, it sure doesn't seem that way. "I'm sorry Becky, but I need something different in my life now. I truly love you, and I think you are a great person, but the person you are is not the right person for me, right now. I'm going to stay at a friend's house for a couple of days till I can sort out a place to live. I'm sorry, Becky." With that, I left her there, crying on the couch. It made me feel like an asshole, and it was tremendously hard not to go back to her, but in some respects, I felt good that I was able to do this. I went to my buddy Jack's house and crashed there for the night. I was at work the next day when my cell phone rang. I could see it was Becky, and I almost didn't answer, but I thought that shying away from a confrontation would be falling into my old patterns, so I answered the phone. "Hi Becky," I said. "Hi," she said. She sounded fairly calm. "Listen," she continued, "I think I understand what you are doing, but I need to talk to you a little more. Will you have dinner with me one last time? I have some things I need to tell you. I promise I won't make a scene." I wasn't sure it was a great idea, but she seemed in control of herself, and we had been together for two years before I just sprung this on her, so I felt I owed it to her. Worse came to worse, I could just walk out. "OK," I said, "meet me at Alfredo's at 9:00." I knew she didn't like Alfredo's very much, and even though it was one of my favorites, we never went, but in my new spirit of selfishness, I didn't care. "OK," she said, "see you there." I was a little surprised that she didn't even try to get me to change the location. At 9:00 I walked into Alfredo's. It's a fairly nice establishment, so I had dressed up a little. I saw her at the bar, and I got another surprise. She was in a fairly short black dress that was pretty low-cut on top, no stockings, and sandals. I don't remember her having that dress, and she did not normally dress so revealingly. "Great," I thought to myself, "she's trying to tempt me to get back together with her." "Hi," she said quietly, kissing my cheek as I approached her. "Thank you very much for agreeing to meet with me. Would you like to go in?" "Sure," I said. When we approached the maitre d', she asked for a booth. The booths were in the back and fairly private. After we were seated and our drink orders were taken, we looked over the menu. When the waiter came for our food orders, I ordered an asparagus soup followed by a rib-eye steak. When he asked Becky for her order, she said, "The gentleman can order for me." I looked up at her in surprise, not sure what she was up to. I knew steak was not Becky's favorite, but I told the waiter to bring her the same thing I had ordered. After the waiter left, I asked "OK, Becky, what's the deal? Why did you want to meet me?" She looked at the table for a long moment, seemingly gathering up the courage to tell me what she had to say. "It's like this. I thought about what you said. I heard what you were looking for, and the person that you do not what to be. I thought all last night about our relationship and about me and about you. And I realized that you were right about how things were."And I can see why you think that I am not the person that you want to be with, given the person you want me to be." She took a sip of water, and I waited for her to continue. She looked up at me, intently. "But I can be that person. I know I can. Please give me a chance. I know I can make you happy." I sighed. I was afraid of something like this. She was going to try and have me take her back, maybe be more accommodating for a little bit, then things would go back to the way they were. "Becky," I started, "it's not who you are. It's not who you want to be. You can't change into what you don't want to be." She looked up at me, her eyes a little moist, but very determined. "How do you know? You weren't who you wanted to be. Maybe I wasn't who I wanted to be. You said that I was not happy with myself, and you were right, I'm not. Maybe I can be happier with who you want me to be. Please let me try. I'll make you a deal - stay with me for one month. If after that month things don't work out, I'll leave and won't bother you again. Please," she pleaded. I sighed once again. Just then our soups came. I started eating mine, and I saw she was just playing with hers. That exasperated me. "You had me order for you, eat what I got you," I told her. "Yes, sir," she said, and started eating. While I was eating my soup, I looked at her. It was true that I loved her. And the raw material I wanted was certainly there. But I just wasn't convinced she could do it. Then I thought, let me test her a little. Worst comes to worst, I leave her at the end of the night. Before the waiter came to clear off our soup plates, I asked Becky, "Where did you get the dress?" She responded, "I wanted to look good for you, so I went out and bought it." "And what are you wearing under the dress?" I asked. "A black bra and black panties," she replied. "OK," I said, "take off the panties and put them on the table." She looked up at me in surprise. She hesitated a moment, then reached over for her purse, presumably to go to the ladies' room. "No," I said, "right here." With resolve, she put her purse down and reached under her skirt and shimmied out of her panties. She wadded them up in a little ball and reached to hand them to me, but I said, "Put them on the table near your soup bowl." She did, and I finished up my soup and sat back, looking at her without saying anything. She looked at me, almost defiantly, as if saying, "See, I can do what you want." When the busboy came by to collect our soup bowls, he paused when he saw the panties. I said, "Clear those away as well. We don't need them anymore." He put them on his tray and walked back to the kitchen. "You realize he's probably going to keep them, show them to his friends in the back, don't you?" hissed Becky, her face all red. "I assume so," I replied. "Will they be wet? Will they smell good?" I asked. She dropped her eyes to the table and nodded her head jerkily. The waiter came and put our steaks in front of us. He asked if we needed anything else, spending a little bit too long looking at Becky's lap. "No, thank you, we're fine," I said, digging into my steak. Becky did the same. I was thinking hard. I was surprised that Becky had done what I asked, but I was still concerned that this was a one-night, desperate, get-the-boyfriend-back move, and she would revert back to the old Becky the next day. But she had offered me a thirty-day trial period, and I thought I don't have anyplace else to live, and really, what do I have to lose? Becky was damn good in bed when she let go, and I suspected that at least tonight she'd be letting go, so I decided to go for it. "So, Becky, do you really think you could change to please me as I want to be pleased?" "Oh, yes!" she responded excitedly. "Oh, yes sir!" I corrected. "One of the things that I want is more respect." "Yes, sir!" she responded. I leaned back and looked at her. This could be interesting. "If we do this, it is on my terms, right?" I asked her. "Yes, sir," she replied. "OK, I'll think about giving this some time. We may not last the month, but we'll see. Let's see if you can abide by some ground rules. I want you to tell me if you understand them. "First and foremost, I want you to do what I tell you. If you refuse me, no matter what the circumstances, the trial period is over and I will leave. Do you understand that?" "Yes, sir," Becky replied. "Then explain it to me," I said. "I will never refuse you anything, sir," Becky said, looking at me intently. I really liked the way she rephrased this rule. "Second, you have been complaining that you could not dress to please me because you were not happy with your body. You will dress to please me, and you will improve your body. Tomorrow I want you to sign up for a gym, and you will go every day. You will work hard, because if you do not, you will be punished. Tomorrow we will also go on a little shopping trip to get you nicer clothing. Do you understand this?" "Yes, sir," she said. "I will dress to please you, and I will work out and get my body in better shape, or you will punish me. I understand and accept that, sir." By this point, the new, more submissive Becky sitting across from me had me very turned on, and my cock was as hard as I could ever remember it being. "Becky, one thing you will not be doing very often is wearing underwear. Go to the ladies' room and take off your bra. Do it in the open, not in a stall, and when you come out, hold the bra in your hand until you get back here, and then hand it to me." Without even the slightest hesitation, Becky said, "Yes, sir," then got up and went to the ladies' room. I really enjoyed watching her ass as she went, and looking around I could see that I was not the only one. A few minutes later, Becky came out of the ladies' room, followed by another woman; both of them looked slightly flushed. Becky came back to me, and you could clearly see that she was holding her bra. In addition, you could see her breasts jiggling nicely under her dress, and her nipples were clearly visible. As she approached me, she reached out and handed me her bra, and said in a normal voice, "Here is my bra, sir." A few people at nearby tables looked up at that, but Becky just took her seat. "What happened in there?" I asked. "I went in, and there was another lady there, sir. But you had told me to take my bra off in the open area, so I just opened my dress there and pulled it down. The lady in there looked at me in surprise when I did that, and was even more shocked when I took my bra off. I couldn't help it, sir, I asked her to help me close my dress. She asked me why I was doing it, sir, and I said that my master told me to. I hope I didn't overstep my bounds, sir." Now I was the one to be shocked. I certainly hadn't used the 'master' word, at least not yet. She seemed to be getting into this much more than I expected. She still looked flushed. "Is all of this turning you on?" I asked her. "Oh, sir," she said, looking into my eyes, "I am so wet that the back of my dress is going to be soaked!" "Well," I said, "we certainly wouldn't want that. Flip your dress up so that your bare ass is on the seat." She did so without complaint, and when I looked over I could see that her dress was up high enough in the front so that you could almost see her pussy, yet she did not seem to mind at all. My mind was in turmoil. This night was not going at all as I expected. Was this the same Becky that I spent the last two years with? Maybe not, but then again, I didn't want to be the same person I had been for the last two years. "I think we are up to my third point: punishment. If you don't behave as I expect, or if you do something wrong, it is my right to punish you, do you understand and agree?" I asked. "Yes, sir. I understand that you will punish me as you see fit," she responded. Once again, her review of my terms seemed to be even more than I had said. "OK," I said, "that is all for now. I will give you more rules as they come to me. I will take your trial deal, and see how it works." "Oh, thank you, sir, you will not be sorry," Becky squealed, reaching over to give me a massive kiss. "Understand, Becky," I continued after she sat back down, "that I will be pushing you. I will be enjoying myself with you. I will be using you for my pleasure. I will punish you, both when you deserve it and when I just feel like it. And one more thing, Becky: I will fuck you in your ass. Are you sure that you want to continue this?" One thing that I had never been able to convince Becky, or any of my girlfriends to allow, was an ass-fuck. Becky always felt that her ass was a dirty place, an exit, not an entrance. Becky looked a little nervous for a second, and then whispered, "My ass will be ready when you want it, sir." My dick got even bigger, if that was possible. "Put your bra in your purse," I said, as I called the waiter over for the check. Outside, I got a cab for us and told it to go uptown to our apartment. "Becky," I said, "seeing this new side of you has gotten me really horny. I want you to give me a blow job, and I want you to be nude when you do it." Without a moment's hesitation, and seemingly oblivious of the cab driver, she pulled the dress over her head and attacked my crotch. She ripped the zipper down and fished out my cock, no easy task considering how hard I was. She was not gentle or slow. It appears the dinner we had just completed did nothing to quell her hunger, because she gobbled me down. The cab driver moved his mirror around so that he could see what she was doing, as Becky moved her head rapidly up and down my cock. Given my state of excitement, I knew I couldn't last long, but that was OK with me. She continued trying to shove my cock deep into her throat. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. Usually, I let her know before I came so she could decide to swallow or finish by jerking me off, but not this time.This time, I grabbed her head and held it on my cock as I squirted in her mouth without any warning. I held her head on my cock until I was done, then I let her go. She stayed by my cock, licking all around to make sure she got every drop. Then she sat back up and leaned back in the seat, still naked, and said, "I hope that pleased you, sir. Is there anything else I can do for you?" Once again, she had shocked me. Becky was no prude, but showing her body off for the cab driver was beyond what I thought she would do. I reached over between her legs, and she spread them for me. She was sopping wet, just as she had told me in the restaurant. I played between her lips for a few minutes, swiping her clit every now and then. Then I leaned back and told her to turn to the side, leaning on the door. She did what I asked, and then I told her to make herself come. This gave her the briefest moment of pause, as this was something she had never done in front of me, but then she reached down, opened herself up, and started moving her fingers in and out of herself. She had a large, untrimmed bush. It looked quite nice, but wasn't quite what I wanted. As she continued to move her fingers in and out, deeper and deeper, her other hand playing with her clit, I told her about her day tomorrow. "Tomorrow," I said, with the cab driver eavesdropping, "you will wake me with a blow job. After I am done using your body, you will shower, and we will go sign you up at a gym, where I will pick out a personal trainer for you. After we finish up there, you are going to go to a salon. I want you waxed everywhere. I want you to tell the technician that is taking care of you that you will be paddled one time for each hair that I find below your neck, so she had best be very thorough. Do you understand?" She looked at me with wide eyes, gasping as she continued to masturbate, "You mean you want me to shave all the hair off my vagina? But I'll look like a little girl!" she wailed as she came. Something else interesting, I thought. I didn't know if she was just ready to come, or it was thinking that she would be like a little girl that got her off, but it was something I would definitely follow up on. "No," I said, "You must get rid of all the hair on your pussy. And I did not tell you to stop playing with yourself." Becky had moved her hands away from her pussy after she came. She always made me stop playing with her after she came, saying she was too sensitive, but that was going to be another thing that changed. She was going to become multi-orgasmic whether she wanted to or not. "Also at the salon," I continued after her fingers were once again working at her pussy (though I noticed she was staying away from her clit; I let her get away with that for now), "you will get your hair colored. I always wanted to do it with a redhead, and you are going to become that redhead." "Anything you say, sir," she breathed. It looked like she was on the way to orgasm number two. "After you are finished with the salon, we are going to get you some new clothes. Not too many, because I expect you to lose enough weight that you won't fit them for long, but definitely some things to please me." I went on. "And then finally, I am going to send you to a sex shop by yourself. It will be your responsibility to pick out some toys that you think would please me. Do you understand all of that?" I asked. "Yes, sir," she said. "Tomorrow, I am going to wake you with a (gasp) blow job and then allow you to use my body as you see fit until you are finished with it (grunt). Then you will take me to the gym and pick a trainer out for me (sigh) Then I will get waxed, telling the waxer that I will be paddled for every hair that is left below the neck (oooh). Then I'll get my hair colored red, (gasp) get some sexy new clothes (ohhhh), then go to a sex shop (gasp) and buy fun toys for you, sir!" She came on the final "sir," her fingers having long since returned to her clit. After breathing heavily for a moment or two, she asked, "Did I get it right, sir?" "You got it perfect, Becky," I said, smiling at her. "We're here," said the cab driver, and sure enough, we were back at our apartment. I wonder how long we were standing there. "Put your dress back on, Becky," I said, as I handed the cab driver his money, and his tip, though he probably had tip enough watching Becky. I walked inside, following Becky's gorgeous ass. This was going to be a very interesting month...Then I said, "That is an excellent pose, Becky, but whenever you sit or kneel, your legs should always be open so that I can always access your cunt, or rather my cunt." She immediately spread her legs. "Let's go to bed, Becky," I said. I reached down and took her hand and helped her up and led her to our bedroom. I had her lay down on the bed. "I want you to reach up and hold the headboard," I told her, "and keep your legs spread. Even though you frequently complain about it, I like your body, and I want to explore it. I don't want you to let go of the headboard, no matter what." With that, I began to explore her body again. This was something she did not let me do too often, because she is ticklish, but I started with her wrists and worked my way down her arms, kissing, licking and running my fingers along every inch of her. When I got to her head, I did the same to her ears, her forehead, her cheeks and her lips. I took a bit of time off my exploration to kiss her deeply. Her tongue was frantic in my mouth. I reveled in this for a few moments before continuing my journey. I moved down to her shoulders and nibbled along her left side. She giggled and squirmed, exclaiming, "That tickles, sir!" but she did not put her hands down, and she let me continue. I moved up to her left breast, nibbling all around the outside of the nipple. She kept thrusting her breast towards my mouth, wanting my tongue on her nipple, but I moved slowly. Becky has nice breasts, a large B or small C. They are reasonably firm, though they are starting to sag a little as she has put on some weight. I finally gave her, and me, what she wanted and sucked her nipple in my mouth. "Oh, sir, I'm coming!" she cried, and amazingly, she did. At least as long as I've known her, she has never come with just breast play, but I guess this wasn't just breast play. "Did I give you permission to come, you little slut?" I asked. "No, sir, I'm sorry," she replied. "Well, here is rule number five," I said, smiling down at her. "Unless I tell you different, you are to come as often and as loudly as you can. The only time I will punish you is if I feel you are holding back on an orgasm. Do you understand?" When I finished explaining rule number five, I attacked her right nipple. "Yes, sir," she said, "Thank you, sir! I understand, sir. I am to come and come and come and come and come, and I am coming again, I'm coming again. I am sir, ohhhhhhhhhh!" I was once again shocked and amazed. She never let me get her off twice in a row, and now she has gotten off three times in a half hour and showed no signs of slowing. I moved off of her breast and down to her stomach, easing off a little to let her come down from her multiple orgasms. She was sweaty and delicious, and I licked down her stomach, over her hip (she jumped at that, but I knew that was an erogenous zone for her), and down the outside of her right leg. As I reached her ankle and started down her foot, she began squirming and said, "Sir, please, my foot is all dirty and sweaty. Please don't." I jumped up quickly, standing near the bed beside her head, looking down at her. "Are you refusing me something?" I growled at her. "Are you telling me to stop doing something that I want to do? Are you going to end this because you think that your feet are too sweaty for me to go near?" "No, sir," she squeaked. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to try and stop you. I just didn't want you to get disgusted with me." "Becky," I said, more calmly, "if I find something disgusting, then I will not do it. But if I want to lick your body after it has been covered in sweat and cum and piss and any other fluid you can think of, it is my choice. Do you understand?" She looked a little shaken, but she said, "Yes sir, I understand that you will do with me what you want and you won't do the things that you don't like." I knelt down next to her and held her head in my arms with my lips close to hers. "That's right, sweet Becky, though that doesn't mean that you won't do what you don't like, does it?" She shook her head. I stood back up and moved down to her feet. "Now I am going to enjoy your sweaty, dirty feet, and you'd better enjoy it as well. And tomorrow, after you come home from the sex shop with a paddle, I will give you 15 swats on your ass for even thinking about denying me. I was going to make it 20, but I am very proud that this entire time you have not lowered your hands, so I will take 5 off." She looked very pleased with herself as I went back to her ankle, and licked all around her feet. Despite what she said, she was not stinky or dirty; she was just slightly sweaty and delicious. When I took her toes in my mouth one by one, her breathing definitely went up a notch. After thoroughly cleaning her right foot, I went to work on her left. When I was done with that foot, I started making my way up her leg, this time on the inside. As I got above her knee, I was clearly able to tell what this night was doing for her. The inside of both her thighs were soaked and her pussy hair was matted down. As I spread her legs more, I could see her ass was soaked as well. It seemed to me that she was wetter than any time we had been together. Something I should tell you about myself is that I love to eat pussy. It is one of my favorite things. If I were given the choice between spending the rest of my life without getting a blowjob and spending the rest of my life without eating pussy, I would choose to forego blowjobs. But of course, now it appeared as if I would have to give up neither. I licked the fluids off her thighs. She was delicious. I moved up closer to her pussy, until my tongue was lightly moving over her pussy lips. I took one quick jab at her clit, and she jumped. Then I couldn't wait anymore and I dove in, trying to bury my face up her cunt. She was mewling and squirming and appeared to love every second of it. I even enjoyed my last night with her pussy hair. After a little bit, I unplugged my tongue from deep within her cunt and started putting little licks around her clit as I put two fingers into her cunt. Normally I start with one and work my way up, but this time she was clearly ready for as much as I wanted to give her. After juicing my fingers up, I moved one down and started playing around her little asshole. She gasped and clenched, but made no move to stop me. She even tried to loosen up a little as I got my finger squirmed into her ass up to the second knuckle. I didn't want to push her too fast, I want to build the anticipation, so I left it at that and started going to town on her clit as I moved my fingers in and out of her cunt and ass. In no time she was screaming over and over, "I'm coming again. I'm coming!" I took my fingers out of her, but I barely let her come down at all before I had my tongue buried in her again. She was starting up the hill towards orgasm again when I decided it was finally my turn. I moved up her body, stopping very briefly to nip each tit, and I positioned my cock just inside her pussy. I looked her in the eye and said, "I never stopped loving you, you know. And now, I think, I may fall even more deeply in love with you." Her eyes became a little teary as I sunk into her to the bottom in one slow, smooth movement. "I know," she said, "and I will never stop loving you." I started making long, easy strokes, enjoying the feeling of her pussy around me. In the past, I had always tried to bring her off first, and as a result it somewhat dampened my enjoyment of what I was doing. Not this time. This time, while it might be nice to bring her off, I didn't care if I didn't. This fuck was for me. I concentrated on the feeling of her pussy walls squeezing around my dick. It felt like there were constant little squeezes. And the amount of wetness that was everywhere made it feel so slippery and sensual. I looked down at her, and she was staring up at me, her mouth open, breathing heavily. Her eyes were completely glazed, her hair sweaty and lying in strands all around her face. She looked animalistic. "My face is all wet from your pussy," I told her. "Clean me off with your tongue." In the past she has not wanted anything to do with her own pussy juices, but now she just leaned her head up and started making broad strokes on my face with her tongue, apparently even savoring the taste, pausing after every few strokes to shove her tongue in my mouth and share her taste with me. After a few minutes (not too many, as I was so on edge from everything that we had done), I started moving in her faster. I was definitely getting closer. It looked like she was as well, but as I said, this one was for me, and so I concentrated on my own feelings as my balls started pulling up. When I squirted into her, it felt like all my guts were going into her along with my cum. I held myself steady in her as I was coming, and I could feel her pussy squeezing around me as well as she squeaked in my ear. What do you know; she got off too! Just before I collapsed, I rolled over, holding her on me as I stayed in her to pull her on top of me. I lay there for a little bit, exhausted, while she lay on me, her hair falling around my head, her eyes closed. I could feel her cunt continue to cum in little squeezes on my cock, pulling out the last of the juice that I had. I pulled her head back by her hair so that I could look into her eyes. "Well, my little Becky, it looks like even though I was taking pleasure for myself, you might have gotten a little pleasure yourself." She laughed weakly, which did interesting things to her cunt still wrapped around my cock. "Sir," she said, "if I give you more pleasure like that I think I will die of excessive orgasms. I have never come like that in my life." We lay there for a while longer; until nature took its course and I started shrinking out of her. "Sit up," I told her. She did, and I had her lift herself up over me."Look at that," I said, and we both watched our combined juices leak out of her cunt and onto my limp cock. "Since I always want to be ready to have you suck me," I said, "it is important that my cock is kept clean. Therefore, after we fuck, it's your job to clean it off." She started to get up, presumably to get a towel, but I stopped her and said, "With your mouth, Becky." To her credit, she did not even flinch as she bent over and started using her tongue to gently clean me off. I tend to get very sensitive after sex, but she knew that and was very careful. When she was done, she gave my cock a final kiss and said, "All clean, sir." She started to get out of the bed, and I said, "Where do you think you are going?" "To the bathroom to clean up," she responded. "No," I said, "You don't get to clean up now. Come snuggle with me. You may not get out of the bed till I tell you to." She was clearly not comfortable with that, but she got into bed and I spooned her from behind, holding one of her tits in my hand, as we drifted off to sleep, both of us sweaty and smelly. Tired of Being a Nice Guy: Chapter One Saturday - Day 1 I woke slowly to a wonderful sensation from my crotch. I looked over at the clock and it was 8:30am. I looked down at my cock, and there was a beautiful woman stuck to the end of it. The room smelled like I imagine a not very well run bordello would, of raw dirty sex. Becky pulled her head off my cock with a pop, smiled up at me and said, "Good Morning. I'm your wake-up slut. It's 8:30 in the morning, the weather is beautiful, and my body is yours to do with as you'd like." She put her mouth over the head of my cock again before popping off quickly and adding, "Sir." Then she slowly dropped her head back down the length of my cock. I lay back and enjoyed the lovely blowjob that I was getting. She was doing a fabulous job, licking up the sides, tickling my balls with her tongue and providing expert suction to my shaft. Given last night's activities, I wasn't in danger of cumming too quickly, so I just enjoyed. However, it was also time for another object lesson. "Becky," I said, "I would like to enjoy you as well. Swing yourself up here into a 69." Becky looked up, clearly not happy with this. I had not allowed her to clean up last night, and she was quite messy then. I imagine she felt very dirty today. But I was going to teach her that no matter how she felt about her body, she should make it available to me. To her credit, Becky did not hesitate much. She swung her legs around over my shoulders. She kept herself on her hands and knees, with her crotch well over and away from my face. I surveyed her for a minute or two as Becky continued concentrating on my cock. She was a mess. There was dried pussy juices all over her thighs, her pussy hair was matted down and a little crusty, and our mixed cum was flecked around her pussy lips. Her actual cunt, however, was mostly cleaned off by the fresh juices that seemed to be pouring out of her. I never imagined she would be able to produce that much sweet fluid. "We're going to have a little contest now, Becky," I said. She pulled herself off my cock and looked down between her legs toward my face. "I am going to eat you now, and you are going to eat me. If you make me come before you do, there will be consequences. However, if you can make me come within one minute of your coming, I'll provide a treat for you during the day. Ready?" She nodded. "Then let's begin," I said. I pulled her crotch down to my face. She resisted a little, but one light slap on her sexy ass and she stopped fighting me. I started swabbing her pussy lips with my tongue. It was a little rancid at first, but I was willing to put up with it for this lesson. Very quickly all I could taste were her fresh, succulent juices. While I was working on her, she went back to pleasuring me. She was doing an excellent job of keeping me close to the edge without going over. I, on the other hand, had no such concern and was attacking her pussy and her clit liberally with my tongue. I dipped my fingers in her pussy, and played around with the outside of her asshole. Once again, she seemed to be getting close to coming. Her coordination on my cock was going and she was breathing harder and harder. She was reduced to just sucking on the sides of my cock with her lips. Just as it felt like she was going over the edge, I shoved a finger into her ass and she threw her head back and screamed. More liquid leaked out of her red pussy and her ass clenched and unclenched around my finger. Just a few seconds later she came down part way from her orgasm and attacked my cock. She swallowed most of it, and I felt the head of my dick pressing against her throat. She was moving her tongue around my cock in her mouth and she was tickling my balls with her fingernails. She had kept me close enough to the edge that within seconds I was coming. She sucked all my juice into her mouth and she continued laving my cock until I became too sensitive and made her stop. She put her head down on my thigh and said, "Sir, I was too caught up in your cock to pay attention to time. Did I win my treat?" "You certainly did, my horny little slut, and I'll be sure to give you a treat later today." I still had my finger in her ass, and when I called her a horny slut, her ass clenched. Something else I would have to follow up on later. After basking in my morning cum, I pulled my finger out of her ass, slapped her ass and said, "Time for our morning ablutions. Let's go pee and shower." "Who goes first?" she asked. "We'll go together," I said. We went into the bathroom, and I said, "You pee first, but spread your legs because I want to see." I'd never actually see a girl peeing, and I wanted to. She sat on the toilet with her legs spread wide and a large blush on her face and chest. It took her a moment or two to get over the shyness and start peeing. I heard it hissing in the bowl, and saw a little, but not really enough. I'd just have to get her to do it more exposed later. When she was done, she looked up at me and said, "Can I wipe now?" "Don't bother, yet," I said, "and keep your legs open. I need to go as well, and I don't want to bother you to get up from the toilet." With that, I moved in front of her and aimed my dick between her legs. She looked completely surprised and almost ready to bolt, but she didn't. She sat there while I started to piss. My first stream was actually pretty accurate, going right between her legs into the bowl, but I soon corrected that, and moved the stream up so that I was pissing right onto her pussy. She looked at my cock, the steam of urine, her now soaking pussy, and then up to me, with an undecipherable look on her face. At least it wasn't disgust, and I got to fulfill another fantasy. As I was getting to the end, I moved closer so as not to make a mess of the floor. As the stream petered out, I moved it up a little so the last drops went on her lower stomach. I then shook off the excess, spraying her tits and face a little. As I stood there with just a little left on the tip, I was about to tell her to clean me off when she darted her head forward and swiped the end of my cock with her tongue before wrapping her mouth around my cock to finish cleaning it off. When she was done, she looked up at me with a mischievous look on her face and said, "You did say that I should clean you off every time it gets dirty." Just when I think she has reached the limits of amazing me, she does something like this. I knelt down in front of her, grabbed her head and gave her a deep kiss. It was very nice, but reminded me that we didn't brush our teeth yet. "You go brush your teeth while I start the shower, and then I'll brush mine," I told her. We both brushed our teeth, and then got into the shower. It was fun washing her while taking liberties with her, which she thoroughly enjoyed. In addition to the usual spots, I soaped up a finger and made sure to clean out her asshole a little bit, more to get her used to it then for cleaning purposes. When we were done, I had her make sure that my cock was free of soap by testing with her mouth, and then I did the same for her nipples and pussy. I think she was quite surprised when I had her bend over and I performed the same check on her asshole, but the only comment she made was a satisfied "Ohhhh." When we were finished with the shower, I had her lie on the bed while I went and got a big cardboard box. I then told her, "For the next thirty days, the only thing separating your pussy with the outside air will be a bikini bottom if we go swimming or some workout shorts for the gym. So what I want you to do now is get all your pants and all your panties and put them in this box. At the end of the month you can have them back or give them to charity, depending on what happens." She went to her drawers and did what I told her. After she was done, I asked her to get out her skirts. She did so, and I saw one skirt that I really liked. It was a white leather mini-skirt that I don't remember ever seeing her in it. I had her try it on, and it covered her to just below her pussy. She looked so sexy standing there in just the skirt and no top that I told her, "Until we find you more stuff, the outfit that you are wearing is your new official uniform for when you are at home." I slipped on a pair of jeans and a tee shirt and told Becky to get herself dressed for her errands and come to the living room when she was done. I went to the living room and grabbed my video camera. I set up the camera hooked to my computer and motion sensor. I placed the camera in a location from which it had a view of the kitchen, living room and front door. When Becky came down, she was wearing a short, flowery skirt and a tight white tee shirt. She was not wearing a bra, and I assume she was not wearing any panties, since she no longer had any.I pointed out the video camera and said, "I always wondered what you did when you were home and I was not, and now I will find out, even more so now since you will be nearly naked all of the time." She definitely did not seem comfortable with being naked on video, but I was absolutely going to be getting a lot of video and pictures of her doing a lot worse than walking around naked, so I wasn't going to let her back out of this. "Should I take gym clothes?" she asked. "Not today. You won't do a full workout, so you shouldn't need it," I responded. "Let's go." +++++ We went out to a gym that was close to our apartment. The woman at the counter asked if she could help us, and I said, "Yes, I'd like to sign Becky up and get her a personal trainer." She called someone over who introduced herself as Veronica. Veronica was dressed in a gym logo t-shirt and had an amazing set of breasts. They had to be 40-DD at least. She seemed to have made use of the gym herself, because she was in fairly good shape. She had reddish-brown hair and hazel eyes. She started us through the paperwork, and I asked to meet with the personal trainers they had on staff, explaining that I wanted a woman to work with Becky. Veronica told me that there were three available here today, and she brought them over. The first was a black woman, tall and lean, whose name was Jane. The second was a white woman, Mickey, with black hair, a little shorter than Jane. The third woman was about as tall as Jane. She had short, blonde hair in a very tight pixie cut. She had a slight Russian accent, and her name was Nelly. When they were all together, I explained what I wanted. "I am looking for a personal trainer for Becky. She will be coming in every day, and I want you to meet with her at least twice a week." Jane looked over at Becky, who had been sitting quietly, and asked, "Becky, what are your goals?" Becky looked at me, and I shook my head at her. I told Jane, "I am the one hiring the personal trainer. I will be setting the goals, and I will be getting status reports. I am the client, not Becky. Becky is simply the one that you will be working with." Becky looked embarrassed. Veronica looked amused, Jane looked upset, Mickey looked indignant, and Nelly looked intrigued. "Veronica," I said, "I think we will start with Nelly and see how that works out." "Very well," she said, and Jane and Mickey left us. "What are your goals for Becky?" Nelly asked me. I smiled at her and said, "Becky has let herself go. She is starting to gain weight and lose definition, and I want her back to what she looked like 5 years ago. "In addition, some of her new activities will require significant aerobic activity and a certain degree of limberness," I said, with a wicked smile at Becky, who flushed even more. "She needs to build stamina and flexibility." "I think I can definitely help her, if she is willing to put the effort in," said Nelly. "Oh, she will put the effort in. I would like you to send her back to me with a status report after every session. If you feel that she is not working to her full potential, let me know and we can address that at home," I said ominously. "I am sure that I can correct bad behaviors without any problems. "In fact," I continued, "if she is not behaving herself here, the occasional swat on her behind should motivate her appropriately. Now can you show us around the facility?" We all stood up, Becky blushing furiously. As she got up, I noticed something about her, so I walked over and whispered in her ear, "I may have to let you wear panties when you are with me just to keep you from ruining too many of your clothes." With a gasp, Becky put her hands behind her so that she could feel the wet spot where she had leaked onto her skirt. If possible, she turned even redder. Veronica and Nelly led us out to the main floor. They showed us the free weight section and the classrooms and described some of the classes that she thought might be good for Becky to take. She then led us to the machine room. "Since Becky has not worked out seriously before," Nelly told me, "I think I will start her on some of these machines for weight training as well as the treadmills and bicycles." "Why don't you put Becky through a few of the machines now, to show her what it will be like?" I asked Nelly. "She is not really dressed appropriately. With a skirt...," Nelly started. "Don't worry about that, just get her into some sample positions," I broke in. "OK," Nelly said with a smirk. Becky looked like she might make a run for the door. Nelly first put Becky on a machine where she lay face down and hooked her legs under a cushion. She had to lift her legs to lift the weight. The skirt came perilously close to her ass, but nothing inappropriate showed. Veronica and I stood behind her, and Veronica seemed to admire the view as much as I did. The next machine was situated in front of a mirror. Becky had to sit in a chair and push weight up from her shoulders. Nelly made sure that Becky had correct form, which meant legs far apart and shoulders back and upright. All four of us could see Becky clearly in the mirror, with her chest pushed out, nipples standing at attention, and her pussy clearly visible under her skirt. Nelly made Becky do four repetitions before she could get up. "Just one more machine to show you today," Nelly said. If Becky thought she would be getting a reprieve, she was wrong. This machine was once again in front of a mirror. On this machine, Becky's knees went on the outside of two cushions, and the goal was to spread her knees as far as she could then squeeze them together. On the first repetition of this exercise, Becky was so embarrassed that she could not even look at herself in the mirror. She not only showed the hair of her pussy, but her pussy opened completely, showing us all a very wet, very pink, very excited cunt. Nelly made her do ten repetitions before stopping. "Why don't I show Becky the dressing room?" Nelly asked me. "Fine," I said. As Nelly and Becky went into the changing area, I noticed one of the other trainers we had talked to, Mickey, followed her. Veronica asked me, "Is there anything that she won't do for you?" "I haven't found anything yet, why?" I responded. "Would you ever consider lending her out?" she asked. "I have to admit that she makes me completely hot." "Not right now, but give me a few weeks and I might be interested in sharing," I replied. "Would I have to follow the same rules she does?" Veronica asked. "Would that be a problem?" I asked, looking directly into her eyes. Veronica looked at me and shuddered a little bit, but our conversation cut off as Becky and Nelly came out of the changing area. "All set?" I asked. Becky nodded, and I told Nelly, "She'll be in each day at about 2:30pm, starting tomorrow. Is that OK with you?" "That's fine," said Nelly. "I'm not normally here on Sundays, but I'll make an exception and come in tomorrow. I look forward to working with you, Becky." "And I look forward to following up on this conversation at a later date," Veronica said to me. "Thank you for signing Becky up." As we were walking out, I asked Becky, "What happened in the changing room?" "Mostly Nelly was just showing me around," Becky answered, "But that other trainer, Mickey, came in and kept asking me if I was alright, if you were doing anything bad to me, if I needed help. I just told her I was fine and to leave me alone, but I am not sure if she is convinced." "And are you fine?" I asked, looking carefully at her. "How do you feel about what has happened this morning?" Becky looked back at me, a considered expression on her face. "What you did to me in there was utterly embarrassing and humiliating. You treated me like a piece of property in front of all those people. They know that you could do anything to me. You _exposed_ me to them. They saw my pussy! And sir, if a strong wind came by right now and blew over my clit, I would come like crazy!" We were walking down the hallway to the entrance, and at the moment it was deserted. I grabbed Becky and shoved her to the wall. I jammed a finger up her overheated cunt and put another on her clit. At the same time, my other hand went under her t-shirt and grabbed a nipple, while I locked my mouth on hers. Becky's eyes got wide in surprise and alarm for a moment, and then she felt my hands on her. Saying she came would be an understatement. She exploded. She melted. Or at least it felt like she was melting, given all the liquid that was pouring over my hand. After about 30 seconds, she sagged against me and whispered, "Oh, sir." I straightened Becky up. My hand was soaked when I pulled it out from her skirt, and I held it up to her face. Becky looked at me for a moment and then started sucking on each of my fingers. "Leave some for me," I said, and I sucked the juices of the remaining fingers. "You did so well in there," I said, "that I am going to take 5 more off your total, so you will only get 10 with the paddle tonight." "Thank you, sir," Becky said. As we turned towards the door, I saw that Veronica had followed us out and was watching from the end of the hallway, her hand in her pants. She saw me and she flushed, pulling her hand from her pants. I winked at her, and Becky and I left the gym. "Sir, what did Veronica mean when she said she would follow up on the conversation later?" Becky asked. "Oh, she had just asked if she could borrow you for a bit," I responded. "What! Borrow me! How could she borrow me?" Becky exclaimed. "You know," I said, "I give you to her for a day and tell you to do whatever she wants," I replied. "You would do that?" she asked. "If I did, would you listen to me, and do what she wanted?" I countered. She was silent for a while as we walked along. "I'm not sure, sir. I want to please you, but I don't know what I would do if the situation arose."I'd want to, for you, but I don't know if I could." She looked at me, worried. I smiled at her. "That was very honest of you, Becky. I told her no, she could not have you." Becky sighed with relief. "Of course, I also told her that in a few weeks I might share you with her, so you never know." She looked at me in shock, but after a moment smiled and held onto my arm. "It's getting a little late in the day, and you still have a lot to do," I told Becky. "I think we are going to save most of the clothes shopping for tomorrow. What I want you to do today is buy one outfit for tonight, something that will please me. Do you remember your other errands for today?" "Yes, sir. I need to go to the salon for my hair, top and bottom," Becky said with a smirk. "Then I need to buy some toys that you'd like. And of course, I need to get that dress." "That's fine. I am going to go home for a little nap, and then I have to go into the office for a little while. I want you to take care of all your errands, and then we'll have dinner at Max's. Meet me in the bar at Max's at 7:00 to show me your new look." "All of my new look, sir?" Becky asked me with a grin. "You will definitely be showing me your entire new look in the restaurant, you cheeky little slut," I replied, grinning back at her. "You can drop your other packages off at the house before you get ready for dinner. I'm very proud of you. You are doing so well." "Thank you, sir. I love you so much," Becky told me. Then, with a quick kiss, she was off on her errands. I walked into the bar at Max's just after 7:00. I looked around, and didn't see Becky at first. Then she turned around, and I got a good look at her new hairstyle. Becky was sitting on a bar stool, and she was wearing a green wraparound dress that was very short. It was tied in such a way that her cleavage was quite evident, though her breasts were not in apparent danger of falling out. She had gotten the hair just right. It was nearly exactly the color red/orange that I loved, not obviously fake, nor too brown. She'd done good. Her makeup looked better than I'd seen in a while, and from across the room it looked like she'd gotten her finger and toe nails polished as well. As I walked up to her, she uncrossed her legs, and then, to my surprise, opened them enough so that as I approached I could see right up her dress. The light wasn't great, but it sure looked to me like she had followed my orders to a tee. When I got to her she remained on the bar stool, but she grabbed me in her arms and pulled me in for a big kiss. She then hugged me, putting her mouth by my ear and said, "Oh, sir, I feel like a new woman. Thank you." "Let's go get seated," I said. It was early, so there wasn't much of a crowd in the bar, but as Becky gathered her stuff and settled her bar tab, I noticed that a large percentage of the men, and not a few women, were either looking at Becky lustfully or at me enviously. It really made me think. Had Becky walked into this bar a few days ago she would have turned a few heads, but not attracted this much attention. A new haircut and makeup, a new sexy dress, and most importantly a new more open attitude, and all of a sudden it's like she's a goddess. Isn't life funny? Becky, oblivious to my chain of thought, got up and said, "Ready?" her eyes sparkling happily. I was, so we went to the restaurant and were seated. We got a small, circular booth, and I seated Becky across from me so that I could look at her. We placed our drink orders and I picked up the menu. I noticed that Becky had not picked up hers. I looked over at her and asked, "Are you not hungry?" "Famished," she said. "Do you know what you want?" I asked. "No," she said. "Then shouldn't you be looking at the menu?" I inquired. "That's not necessary," she said. "You just pick out anything you want for me, and I will eat it." Boy was I dense. We had done this dance just last night (just last night!) If that was what she wanted, I was fine with that, although I hope she wasn't expecting me to make all her decisions, just the ones I cared about. I looked at the menu and decided that as I planned to do with Becky, I wanted to try a little of everything. When the waiter came over, I asked that instead of main dishes, I'd like a sampling of appetizers and, if the chef could put together a sampler of main dishes as well, that would be great. He told me he would see what he could do, and off he went. I looked across the table at Becky. I loved her new look, but there was something else I couldn't put my finger on. Then I got it. She looked happy. As I have mentioned before, Becky was not usually a happy person. She was always upset at something. Now, she simply seemed happy. I pointed this out to her. "How do you feel, Becky?" I asked, "How do you really feel?" "I feel so good; I feel so free," she replied. "I don't know why. When I was sitting at the salon, I thought about it a long time. I know I said I wanted to make you happy, and I was doing this for you. But the things that you have done to me, the things that you have put me through already, should have made me furious. Or at the very least, they should have made me feel cheap and used and taken advantage of. "But they didn't. I feel happy, I feel content, I feel taken care of. You told me you would use me for your pleasure, but since you tried to break up with me, you have had exactly three orgasms while I have had so many that I lost count; certainly more than ten. Do you realize that in less than one day I have had more than ten orgasms? "And not just ten plain orgasms. Each of them has been better than anything I have had before. How can you be doing that to me? How can you make me feel so good? But you know what? I don't care. How can I be cheap, used, taken advantage of, when I am getting so much out of this? "And I'll tell you something else. When I am serving you, when I am following your orders, even when I am exposing myself to strange women at your command, I feel good about it. Last night, you told me that I couldn't change into what I didn't want to be, and I said that maybe I wasn't who I wanted be. I was saying that for you, but I realize I was telling an absolute truth. I am not sure who I want to be, but I know that I am happier with who I was last night, who I am today, than I have been for a long time. I don't know if what we are doing will satisfy me forever, but I can tell you for damn certain that I have never been more satisfied in my life!" And with that she sat back, looking satisfied indeed, and then, as if remembering, looked down at the table and added "Sir." I reached across the table and table and took Becky's hand. "That is wonderful to hear," I said, kissing her hand. "The only thing that could please me more than having you as a slave is having you as a willing, happy slave. When I tried to break up with you the other day, I thought that even though I truly loved you, I would have to move on to someone who could better satisfy my needs. But having spent a single day with the new Becky, I can't think of anyone that could satisfy my needs more." I let go of her hand and I leaned back. "That being said, however, this is still a trial period, and I have to warn you that I will be pushing you harder this month that I ever will again. I need to be convinced you are doing, and enjoying, what you say you are; that this won't be a dream that slips away after a few days." Becky looked at me with a sparkle in her eyes. "Sir, you can test me as much as you want. Push away. I thought about this a lot this afternoon, and I can't imagine anything I won't do for you. The pleasure you give me, the love I feel for you, is worth anything." "Veronica?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at her. Becky laughed loudly. "Sir, if it would make you happy I would go down on Victoria on top of a table in the middle of this restaurant during the dinner hour." Now it was my turn to smile, albeit in stunned amazement. "That would certainly be something to see, but I think a slightly more private setting would be appropriate. However, speaking of displays of wanton and lustful behavior, slide over near me and show me the rest of your haircut." Becky grinned and slid over. In the process, she hiked up her dress so that it was at her waist. She sat in the booth, facing me so that the table did not block my view, and she spread her legs. Her pussy was absolutely smooth. I could see her clit peaking out, and her fluids glistening on her lips. "Are you going to mess up this dress like you did your skirt this morning?" I asked. "Most likely," she replied, grinning back at me. "Then you just sit there and leave your dress like that for the rest of the meal," I instructed her. "Yes, sir!" she retorted, and leaned over and kissed me, letting me taste her lipstick, her tongue, and some of her tonsils. "Now are you ready to tell me about the remainder of your day?" I asked. "Oh yes sir, I certainly am" she replied. "Go right ahead then," I told her. "Well, as you recall, sir, I had to go to the salon, to buy a dress, and to the sex shop. I decided to go to get the dress first. I went to a nice store that I like, but usually don't buy clothes in because they are too young, too sexy. "A young saleswoman came up to me and asked if I needed help, so I decided what the hell and told her I was not sure what to get, that I tended to dress conservatively, but I needed something that would make my boyfriend have a heart attack. I didn't call you master yet, but when I can, I will! I also told her that I would not be wearing any underwear with it. "She got real flirty and she picked out a whole bunch of items. When it was time for me to try them on, she asked if I needed help, but I told her no. She reminded me that since I was not going to wear it with underwear for you, I should take off my underwear now so that I could judge the look."Oh, sir, you should have seen her face when I told her I didn't have any underwear anymore. "I tried on a couple of the dresses, and she insisted that I come out after each one to get her opinion. On one dress, I came out with the back completely undone, right down to my ass, and asked her to help me do it up. In another, I leaned over in front of her and asked if she could see my boobs. She said, 'Oh yes, and they are lovely.'" Becky giggled. "Was I awful?" I smiled broadly at her. "Remember last weekend, you were trying on some clothes at home, trying to find something you like to wear out? You kept complaining about how you hated your body. Your actions with that saleswoman don't seem to be the actions of someone that hates their body, does it?" Becky smiled shyly back at me. "I guess not. Oh, no! It must have been awful to hear me complaining all the time. I'm sorry, how can I make it up to you?" "Well," I said, "you are making a good start. To continue, though, why don't you retie that dress a little looser, so that more of your cleavage is visible?" Becky smiled evilly and untied the string on the side of her dress. She then pulled the dress open, exposing her breast to me, as well as to the waiter who had just arrived with our food. "Oops," she said. "I guess that was a little too far. Sorry," she retied her dress, this time with her breasts in definite danger of falling out. After the waiter left, which it seemed he was very reluctant to do, Becky leaned far over to me and whispered, "Will you feed me some of the appetizers?" Of course, I could see completely down her dress when she leaned over, and a glance down showed her bald vulva, still on display. "Sit back in your seat, you brazen hussy," I ordered her, though my voice had difficulty getting out, and my penis complained that I was insane. "Tell me about the rest of your day." "Well, after I picked out this dress, I paid for it, and the nice saleslady gave me her card. She wrote her home phone on the back of it, and told me to call anytime I needed anything at all. Maybe I should call her and tell her she can have her way with me if she lets you fuck her in her ass first?" I realized that I was going to have a very difficult time making it through dinner. This woman was driving me insane. After the last pronouncement, she had picked up a celery stalk from our appetizers and was giving it a very effective fellatio. I half expected to see it ejaculate, and I suspected some of the people at the neighboring tables thought so too. "Stop that, you little slut, and get back to telling me about your day," I told her. "Sorry, sir," she said, not appearing to be very sorry. "After I left the dress shop, I decided to go to the sex shop first, rather than after I was all made up. Plus, waxing is always painful, and I wanted to put it off as long as possible. So I went to the sex shop. I have never really been in one, and I didn't know what to expect, but the one I was in seemed to have a fairly large selection. "The guy behind the counter was a little skeevy looking, so I didn't play any games with him, but I did look around a lot. If you don't mind, sir, I'd like to skip describing what I got so that I can surprise you when we get home." "That's OK with me," I said, "But can you at least tell me if you purchased a paddle?" "Yes, sir. I know I have discipline with a paddle coming, so I bought a few so that you can pick out the one you feel serves the purpose best." "That's good, Becky," I said. "What happened when you went to the salon?" "Well, I went in and arranged for a waxing, a manicure, a pedicure and haircut with coloring. I did the waxing first. I went in and the woman asked me what I wanted. There were a few other workers around, but I said what you told me to. I said, 'I need everything gone below my neck. You need to be sure to do a good job, because I will get one hit with a paddle on my ass for every hair that is left.' "Needless to say, that got a reaction. The woman doing me looked shocked, but one of the other workers said, 'You should leave some hairs, as long as she lets me watch when she is paddled!' The waxer hustled me in and started her job. During the process, she whispered to me, 'Were you serious?' I told her that I was, so please be very careful. She actually did look very carefully for hair, even between my legs. It was quite funny, when it wasn't painful. If you think spanking me hurts, you should see what waxing does!" "So you are recommending that when you need to be punished, I should use hot wax. Mmmmm, that's a thought," I said. Becky looked horrified. "No, that's not what I meant. Oh well, I guess if you want to use hot wax, I'll put up with it. "After the waxing, the manicure and pedicure and haircut went normally. I hope the color is right. I tried to think about what you seemed to like in the past, but I wasn't sure. If this isn't right, I'll go get it fixed." "Actually," I said, "it is close to perfect! I didn't realize that you knew what I liked so well, but I appear to be learning! So, it sounds like you enjoyed your day for the most part?" "Sir," Becky said, "I enjoyed my day completely. Even the parts I shouldn't have liked, like getting my hair pulled out by the roots and having my vulva shown to strangers made me excited, knowing I was doing it for your pleasure. I can't believe that I felt that way, but I did." "And tomorrow, we go shopping for more clothes," I said. "Do you know if your friend will be in the store that you visited today?" "I don't know, sir, but I have her home number, and I can call and ask if you'd like." "Not a bad idea, love. Why don't you do that now?" I asked her. Becky got out her cell phone and the business card and placed a call. She listened for a minute and said, "It's a machine." I told her to leave a message, and tell the woman that she would be in tomorrow at about 12:00. She did so, and put away her phone. "And are you looking forward to your workout tomorrow?" I asked. "Do you think I should send you in workout clothes, or in a skirt?" "Oh please, sir," Becky replied, wide-eyed, "not a skirt! Can you imagine what it would be like with my vulva looking like this?" "Can you?" I retorted, reaching down and swiping my finger in her extremely wet vulva. Becky jumped, and I put my finger in my mouth and sucked her juice off. "I do believe that you forgot that you were that exposed." "Oh my god, I did," Becky exclaimed. "I can't believe that I forgot that I was sitting in a restaurant with my vulva on display!" Getting back to the subject at hand, I asked Becky, "What are you going to do if Nelly or Veronica comes in to watch you change?" "I guess I'll just go there dressed in my gym clothes," Becky responded. "No you won't," I said. "You will go there in a skirt and blouse with no underwear. You will go into the changing room, take off all of your clothes, put them neatly in the locker, and then put on your gym clothes. If one of them tries to touch you, however, you may tell them that they have to ask me for permission before they do." Becky was breathing heavily, clearly excited. "Sir," she said, "would it be OK if we go home soon? I really need you." "So eager for your paddling, I see." Becky put her hand to her mouth, having forgotten that detail. Nonetheless, I got the check and had Becky fix her dress and we went home. When we got home, Becky asked, "Sir, would you mind waiting here while I get the bedroom ready for you?" "That's fine," I answered. "Thank you, sir. I'll call you when I am have finished preparing everything for you," Becky told me. I relaxed for a few minutes, got a drink of water and took the opportunity to think again. Here it was, the end of day one of our thirty-day trial. I had gone into this assuming that Becky would be a little nicer and more thoughtful to me for a while, but she would slowly revert back to being the same high maintenance woman that she had always been. Well, she was certainly nicer to me; that was a fact. But not just a little. And she was certainly thinking of me, how much I'd find out in a few minutes when I saw the results of her shopping excursion. And if my mind was not playing tricks on me, she had opened the discussion of giving herself to another woman if said woman would allow me to fuck her ass. Somehow, I didn't think a slow reversion to the old Becky was in the cards; if it were slow, it would take a hundred years, because the difference between old Becky and new Becky was not small. Then I thought about the future. How would this change our lives? I don't think it would change our professional lives much, but we had a number of friends as a couple. We had been living together for two years, so even our personal friends knew both of us. How would we act around them? What would Becky want to be around them? And I realized that I really cared about that. Despite my wanting our relationship to be about me, I truly cared what Becky wanted as well. I wanted to push Becky, in some respects I wanted to embarrass her, but only safely. I wasn't sure how to make Becky feel safe and comfortable around our friends, while still maintaining our current relationship. Especially if we lasted the month (something I was beginning to desire more and more) and I marked her as my slave. Becky called me into the bedroom then, and I just said to myself, "Things have gone completely differently than I ever thought they would. I'll just play it by ear and see what develops; that seems to be working for me so far!" I walked into the bedroom, and stopped just inside the door. On the floor at the foot of the bed was Becky. She was naked, on her knees. Her legs were spread as we had discussed, and her newly smooth vulva was on display. Her hands were on the floor behind her and her back was arched, presenting her breasts to me. Her head was bowed, looking at the floor by my feet.Behind her, on the bed, was a truly impressive set of toys. "Sir," Becky said, oddly formally, "I have purchased the items on the bed for your pleasure and use. Please feel free to use them, and me, in any way you want. Everything in this room, including me, is here exclusively for your pleasure." I walked around her to the bed to take a look at what was there. The holidays had certainly come early for me. She had laid everything out artistically. There were a number of items there that I expected to see. As promised, there were a number of paddles. There were also some leather cuffs and handcuffs, a dog collar and a nicer collar, both with leashes and a few blindfolds. There was a set of dildos and butt-plugs called an 'Anal Training Kit', as well as a few other vibrators, including one with a wireless remote control. But there were some things there that surprised me as well. She had bought some porn, both along slave/spanking lines as well as some anal titles. And then there were the S/M items. There were some leatherwear items that had a lot of straps and rings. There were ball gags. There were nipple clips, a flogger, a crop and a whip! "Becky," I asked when my head stopped spinning, "were all these things bought with me exclusively in mind, or were some for you?" "Well, sir," she said, "you've already surprised me with your desires, and I wanted to make sure that you had everything you might want to use." "And you are OK with me using any of these on you?" I asked. "I think so, sir," she responded. "So if I wanted to handcuff you, attach the nipple clips, and whip your tits with the crop, you would be OK with that?" I asked. "I want to make you happy, sir. It might not be my favorite thing, but I would try and endure to please you," she replied. My head was spinning again. "OK, Becky," I told her, "While you understand that I want to be in charge in this relationship, there will be many times where I want to know what you want. What I want you to do now is to go over and pick out three items on the bed that are your favorites. And I want you to be completely honest." Becky looked up at me, and then she stood up and looked over the bed. She stood there for a moment, looking over the choices. Then she reached out and made her selection. She separated out a collar and leash, the leather cuffs and the nipple clips! She presented them to me. "Becky," I said, "part of serving me is serving me with your mind as well as your body. I need you to be completely open and honest with me. Tell me why you chose those items." Her face flushed and her head bowed. In a quiet voice, she said, "I chose the cuffs so that I could be completely in your control. I chose the collar so that I would feel like I was your pet. And when you spanked me, it hurt, but it made me feel so good. You made me cum by playing with my nipples. I wanted to see what it would be like when you clamped these clips on my nipples. I wanted to know if it would hurt, feel good, or both." If she didn't stop making my head spin, I would probably pass out. Or maybe it was that there was no blood left in my head, it having all migrated south. I told Becky to turn around, and I placed the cuffs on her wrists, connecting them together behind her back. I then lifted her hair and put the collar on her neck, kissing her neck first. Before I closed the collar, I said to her, "Becky, this collar is not yours. This is a temporary toy. At the end of the month, if we both have enjoyed ourselves and want to continue, I will get you a different collar, your collar. Do you understand?" "Yes, sir," she said, and there were tears in her eyes. I kissed her deeply. She could not wrap her arms around me, and in a way, that felt very good, as if I was the one wrapping her in my protection. "Now," I said when I was done with the kiss, "back to business. Since your arms seem to be unavailable, I'd better clear the bed." I took most of the items off the bed, leaving some in easy reach. One item that I left on the bed was a wicked-looking paddle. "Before you get the punishment that is coming to you, there is one more thing we have to do," I said, and taking her leash, I led her to the living room. I went to the video camera and rewound it. "You were home by yourself today," I said. "Now we'll see how well you obey instructions when you are alone." Her eyes got big. I put on the TV, and fast-forwarded through us leaving in the morning, and then watched as Becky walked in the door. She seemed to be quite excited as she walked through the living room and went to the bedroom. "Well, that's two more for not taking your clothes off at the door," I told her. Then we saw her come back out and go to the kitchen and get a drink. She was still dressed. "And three more for remaining dressed in the apartment." In a little while, she came back out in her evening clothes and left the apartment. "Becky, Becky, Becky," I said, "What was the fourth rule?" "I am not allowed to wear any clothes in the house except those you approve," she said. "And what clothes have I approved?" I asked. "My white leather mini," she replied. "And did I approve the clothes that you were wearing in the video?" I asked. "No, sir," she responded. "And what is going to happen as a result?" I asked. "Five more with the paddle," she said. "Do you deserve them?" I asked. "Oh, yes sir. I forgot a rule, and deserve to be punished. Please punish me so that I will remember next time," Becky pleaded. I reset the video recorder, and I led Becky to the bedroom. I unclipped Becky's hands and had her lie down on the bed, and then I re-clipped her hands above her head. "Time to see how a good a job your waxer did," I told Becky, and I began to re-explore her body, this time with only my fingertips and my eyes. I checked under her arms, over her nipples (not expecting any, but hey, I'm allowed my fun!), and down her legs. I saved her beautiful, bald pussy for last. Finally, I looked all around her pussy, spreading her lips. I couldn't help it, and took a swipe with my tongue. Then I had Becky turn over onto her knees, her ass in the air, her hands bound above her head. I inspected her ass and around her asshole as well, taking a swipe of that with my tongue as well. I asked Becky, "How many do you get?" "Fifteen with the paddle, sir," she responded. "That is correct, Becky, though we will add six more for the hairs I discovered, though those should really go to your waxer. Oh well, your sexy ass is here, and hers is not," I said. "Another job of yours will be to remember your punishments. Also, if you feel you've done something to incur a punishment when I am not around, it is your responsibility to tell me, do you understand?" "Yes, sir," Becky said, "I will track my punishments, and I will tell you whenever I feel I deserve to be punished." With that, I got undressed, picked up the paddle, took a test swing in the air, then laid the first one on her right ass cheek with a loud crack. Becky screamed and jumped, but settled back down quickly and said, "Thank you, sir." I put another one on her left ass cheek with the same results. After the first six, her ass was beginning to glow a bright red. By the tenth, she was sobbing, but still saying thank you after each. I continued alternating cheeks till the last one, which I placed squarely between her cheeks, also getting her thighs. After I was done, Becky said, "Thank you, sir, for disciplining me. Oh, sir, please, if you touch my pussy I will come!" So I did. I reached in and ran my fingers between her lips and down to her clit. As soon as I touched her clit, she came. As she was coming, I sunk two fingers deeply into her, and I could feel her squeezing them tightly. I couldn't take it any more. I got up behind her, and sunk my cock into her in one stroke. Then I pulled out and rammed her hard, slapping my hips against her red, abused ass. It was just too tempting, so on each stroke I slapped her red ass. I don't think Becky stopped coming from the time I first touched her clit until I dropped my load in her pussy after just a dozen strokes. After I came, I rolled to my side, taking Becky with me, my cock still embedded in her pussy. I reached down and disconnected her hands, and then reached around her, holding her tit as I spooned her. "I love you," I said. "I love you, too, sir, and thank you for taking such good care of me," Becky said. I wasn't sure I understood that completely, but I was too tired to think about it. My cock slowly slipped out of Becky's pussy. "May I go to the bathroom to clean up?" Becky asked. "No, you may not," I replied, "but you can before you wake me tomorrow." "Thank you, sir," Becky said, and then slipped out of my grip. "Hey, where do you think you are going?" I asked. "I'm sorry, sir, but I have certain responsibilities," she replied, and she moved down and started cleaning my cock up with her mouth and tongue. When she was done, she slipped back into my arms so that I spooned her from behind again, and said, "Responsibilities that are pleasures as well." With that, we both fell asleep. During the night, however, I woke up with another hard-on. I wasn't entirely awake, but this wasn't an entirely uncommon occurrence. In the past, I would wake up like this, typically in the middle of a dream, give myself a few strokes with my hand and fall back asleep, back into whatever dream I was having. This time, I reached down to stroke and I bumped into Becky's ass. I thought, "Hey, why bother with stroking?" so I moved Becky's leg around a little bit, and slipped my cock into her again. She wasn't as wet as she had been earlier, but she was far from dry, and I slipped in with no problem. Becky gave a low, deep moan as I moved myself in and out a few times, but I was really not awake enough for a full fuck, and I shortly fell asleep asking myself, 'How good can this get?'Tired of Being a Nice Guy: Chapter 2 Sunday - Day 2 I woke up to the smell of waffles and a warm, wet, sucking feeling on my cock. I luxuriated in it for a few moments, and then looked down at Becky. She pulled off my cock, smiled up at me, and said, "This morning I thought I'd be both your wake-up slut and your serving wench." She nodded to the bedside where there was a plate of waffles and a glass of orange juice (I'm one of those heathens who doesn't drink coffee). "Would you like for me to continue, would you like to use my body in some other way, or shall I serve you breakfast, sir?" Becky asked. Choices, choices, choices. "Come up here, you temptress," I told her, and grabbed her on top of me for some serious kissing. When I felt relatively satisfied with the kiss, I turned over and said, "I think I'd like to feed you. Stay right there." I got the waffles, cut them into small bits, and dunked them liberally in syrup. I took turns putting a piece in my mouth, then another in hers. Since she was lying under me, occasional drops of syrup inevitably ended up on her chest, stomach and neck. It was a lot of work, but I made the sacrifice and cleaned it up with my tongue. Somehow I also managed to get some on my cock, which she was kind enough to clean off for me. When I was done, I had her get on her hands and knees, and I poured a line of syrup from her tailbone to her neck. I then slowly licked up all the syrup, starting from her tailbone (OK, maybe I started a little lower than that) and up to her neck. As I moved up, I lined my cock up with her pussy, and slowly impaled her as I moved my tongue up her back. When I was done cleaning her back, I settled in to a nice, slow fuck. I was feeling like teasing her today, so I never let her get too close to coming, right until the very end. Right before she was going to come, I pulled out and said, "You know, I think I _would_ like a blowjob this morning." She groaned, but turned around and buried her face in my crotch. She continued the theme of slow and dragged it out for quite some time, before I came hard in her mouth. When I was done, she cleaned me completely, and looked at me expectantly. "Up," I said, giving her a quick swat, "we have to get clean and go shopping." "Yes, sir," she said, and we got into the shower. It was playful as we washed each other, and I got her even more excited, but not enough to help let her cum. I had Becky get dressed in a skirt that came to mid-thigh and a nice v-neck t-shirt. When we were ready to leave, I said, "There is one more thing I'd like you to wear today." I went to the toys she had purchased the day before, and pulled out the anal training kit. Her eyes widened as I got out the smallest butt plug and the lubricant. "Bend over and put your hands on the bed," I told her. "Yes, sir," she said quietly. When she was bent over, I pulled her skirt up over her ass. First, I licked and nibbled at it, finding it too sexy to resist. Then, I licked my tongue around her puckered hole. Finally, I lubed the butt plug and inserted it as she grunted. "Does that hurt?" I asked. "No, sir, but it feels full," she responded. "Well, that should keep you occupied while we shop," I told her. She looked over at me and asked, "I have to have this in me while we shop? What about in changing rooms?" "If someone asks, you may tell them that I am training you to accept my cock in your ass," I instructed her. She looked back down, took a couple of deep breaths and said, "Yes, sir." I slapped her ass, put her dress back down, and said, "Let's go." It was still too early to visit the store where she had shopped yesterday, but we went to a mall. As we proceeded, I could tell that she was walking a little gingerly. "Does it hurt?" I asked. "Not exactly, sir," she replied, "but it's not exactly comfortable, either." I walked with her a little ways longer, till I came to the alcove where the restrooms were. As it was still early, there was no one around. "I'll tell you what," I said. "If you are not sopping wet, then I will let you go into the restroom and remove it." She blushed and lowered her head, and I slipped my hand under her skirt. As I suspected, it was like a fountain. I dipped two fingers in her and I could feel the butt plug through the back wall of her pussy. I also flicked her clit, and in just seconds she was close to coming. I pulled out, licked off one of my fingers and presented the other to her. "So that is uncomfortable?" I asked, as she cleaned off my finger with her mouth. "I didn't say unpleasant, sir," she smirked at me. "You'd better be careful, missy, or I'll take you over my knee right here!" I told her. "Yes, sir. I'm sorry," she said, entirely un-chastened. We continued strolling the mall, looking at dresses and skirts in the various stores. I had her try some outfits on, but all the dressing rooms were private and there was no one worth showing Becky off to. We ended up purchasing a few outfits, but nothing too fabulous, mostly nice skirts and blouses for her to wear to work. Soon it was time to head over to the boutique she had shopped in yesterday. When we arrived, Becky didn't see the woman from yesterday. I was disappointed, and I could not tell if Becky was disappointed or relieved. We looked around and the clothes here were definitely sexier and more revealing. I had picked out a couple of short skirts with high slits when a voice behind us asked, "Can I help you find something?" I turned around and looked at the saleswoman. She was dressed professionally in a skirt and blouse and had blonde hair, slightly longer than shoulder length. She had blue eyes and large breasts. A few years younger and she would have been mistaken as a high school cheerleader. When Becky turned around, she said, "Oh, it's you again!" So this was the saleswoman from yesterday. We introduced ourselves, and her name was Christine. "What are you looking for today?" she asked Becky. Before Becky could answer I said, "Well, Christine, as Becky told you yesterday, most of her clothes are fairly conservative. Those are no longer acceptable, so I need to pick out clothes for her that please me. Is there anything in this store that you think would please me?" Christine looked at me, then at Becky, and smiled nervously. "I'm sure there is a lot in this store that you will like," she replied. "What kind of item are you looking for?" "Absolutely no pants," I said, "or anything that is too difficult to get off or around in a hurry. Becky will be losing a couple of sizes soon, so I don't want to get too much, but what we do get should be tight in all the right places. They should be comfortable, but that is secondary to how it looks to me." Christine seemed to regain some of her composure and started picking some items out for Becky. I held them up in front of Becky, treating her almost like a mannequin. When we had enough items, I told Christine, "Becky is a little jumpy this morning, so perhaps you could help her get into some of these outfits?" Christine looked in surprise from me to Becky and finally said, "I'd be happy to." Then I said, "Becky, follow Christine and try on the outfits. Come out with each of them on so I can decide what you should get." "Yes, sir," Becky replied. Christine led Becky into the changing area, and later that day Becky reported to me the following conversation. When they got in the back, Becky began acting submissive to Christine. She asked, "Which outfit shall I try on first?" Christine knew something was going on, and asked Becky, "What is the deal? Are you really going to let him dress you?" Becky replied, "I am going to let him do whatever he wants with me." "What are you, his slave?" Christine asked. "Oh no, not yet, but I hope to be one day," Becky replied. "So you do anything that he wants?" Christine asked. "Yes," was Becky's answer. Christine moved closer, backing Becky up against the wall. "And if he told you to do what I wanted, would you do it?" "Yes, if he told me to," Becky replied. "Maybe I'll ask him for you," Christine said, backing off a little and running her hand down Becky's cheek. "I'm not sure you'd like that," Becky told her. "Why not?" asked Christine. "Because," Becky said, moving forward until it was Christine backed to the wall, "before he'd give me to you he'd want something from you. And I'm pretty sure what he'd want is your ass." "What do you mean?" Christine asked. "I mean," Becky replied, "that he would strip you naked, bend you over, and bury his amazing cock deep into that sexy ass of yours." And with that Becky leaned forward and put a quick kiss on Christine's lips. Then Becky backed up, looked at Christine with a twinkle in her eyes, and again asked, "Which outfit shall I try on first?" Christine regained her composure a little and picked out a short, revealing purple outfit and said, "Try this." Becky removed her clothes, putting them on the chair behind her. She made sure that she turned around, so that Christine could see the butt plug still firmly in place. Christine saw, and gasped, "What is that?" "That is a butt plug. He is training me to accept his cock in my ass," Becky told her, as I had instructed her to. "You were serious about what you said before?" Christine asked. Becky just smiled and put the dress on. Then she left the dressing room and came out to me. I had her turn all around, twirl to see how high the dress went, and then bend over, both towards me and away so that I could see what would be exposed when she did that. When she bent towards me her breasts were completely visible, and all the way down to her bare pussy. When she bent away from me, I could see the lips of her pussy peeking out. I liked it, but I wanted to see more, so I told her to try on the next one. I noticed that Christine was flushed, and appeared to be perspiring.As Becky tried on the next dress, Christine looked at her and said, "Your thighs are wet." Becky was quite getting into the scene, so she said, "I know. When he fucked me this morning, he would not let me cum, and I am very wound up." Christine was once again shocked as Becky left to show me this outfit. As she was changing into the next outfit, Christine asked her quietly, "Would it be worth it?" "Would what be worth it?" Becky asked. "Would it be worth giving him my ass to have you?" Christine responded. Now it was Becky's turn to be shocked. She had been having fun teasing, but now it looked like Christine was getting more serious. "I don't know," said Becky. "I've never been with a woman. Maybe you need to ask him if I'm worth it." When they came out, they both looked flushed. I had Becky twirl for me, and asked Christine, "Do you think she looks sexy in that?" Christine looked over Becky, licked her lips, and said, "Oh, yeah." Becky giggled and headed back to the changing room, pulling Christine with her. The next dress had a built-in push-up bra, and as Becky was getting into it, Christine said, "Let me help," and grabbed Becky's breast to place it in the cup correctly. Becky groaned and said, "Don't let me sit down, or I'll ruin the back of this dress!" Christine gaped at her as Becky came back to me. As this was the last dress she was to try on, I told Christine, "I'll take this one, the first and the second." "OK," said Christine, "I'll wrap them up." Becky changed back into her clothes, and Christine wrapped up the dresses as I paid for the purchases. Before we left, I said, "Wait a minute. Becky, you look more worked up than before we came in here. Did Christine take advantage of you in the changing room?" "Well," Becky said, "She did kiss me, and she fondled my breasts." "But..." started Christine, before I interrupted her. "Did you kiss Becky and feel her breasts?" "Yes, but..." Christine said, before I broke in again. "Becky is in a vulnerable position, and you took advantage of her. Why did you think that you could do that? Maybe it's because Becky was undressed and you are fully dressed, you thought you could use her as you wanted?" "No, it's just..." Christine started again, but I did not allow her to continue. "Maybe you need to feel what it is like to be vulnerable? Becky, take off Christine's panties!" I ordered. Christine's mouth fell open in shock, but Becky went up to Christine and knelt in front of her. Without a word, she reached under Christine's skirt and pulled her panties down. Christine stepped out of them when they reached her feet, clearly still in shock. Becky held them up for me and said, "It's almost like she wasn't wearing any." They were thin, lacy, nearly transparent, and stained with moisture. Christine blushed. "Not so powerful now, are you?" I asked. "How does it feel to be taken advantage of? Kiss her, Becky." While the kiss in the dressing room was fairly chaste, this one was not. Becky practically attacked her mouth, and her tongue was moving deeply into Christine's mouth. As she was kissing, I asked, "What else did she do to you?" Without responding verbally, Becky's hands came up and squeezed Christine's tits. She quickly slipped her hand under her shirt and bra to fondle her nipples. "That's enough," I said, and Becky immediately stopped. Christine practically swooned. "Now do you see what you get when you take advantage of innocent women?" I asked. "Let's go, Becky." I took the packages and started out, but Becky said, "One moment, sir." She ran back and gave Christine a card with her telephone number. "Call me when you are ready to give up your ass," she whispered to Christine before running back to me. The experience in the dress store left Becky even more hot and bothered. "How do you enjoy that experience, Becky?" I asked. "Sir, I loved it. I want to do everything you tell me to, but I have to admit, sir, that I particularly liked being in control of Christine. In the dressing room, when I kissed her, I almost came." "Well, you told me she had kissed you in the dressing room. Are you saying that you initiated it?" She looked abashed as she said, "Yes, sir." "And what about the breast fondling? Did she do that, or did you encourage it?" I asked. "No, sir! She did that on her own. Though I have to admit that I probably helped her feel turned on enough to do it," she answered. "Well, you will have to be punished for the deception about kissing her, but that will wait. I think it is Christine that should do the punishing for that," I told Becky. "Yes, sir," Becky responded. "So, do you think you would like to treat Christine as I treat you?" I asked. "Oh, yes sir. In fact, if we keep talking about it, I may come without you touching me!" was Becky's response. "Well, we mustn't have that," I said. "Let's go home and get changed for the gym." When we got home, I told Becky that I had changed my mind, and that she should change before we left. I allowed Becky to change into her gym outfit, a little workout piece in grey sweat suit material that covered her breasts tightly and was large enough to cover her pussy and ass. Before we left, I said, "You lied to me about what happened in the dressing room, and as a result, I forced Christine to accept a kiss from you. I will allow Christine to punish you for that, but there is the matter of your punishment for lying to me. I want you to suck me now." "Yes, sir!" Becky said eagerly, and went to work. In a short time, her talented mouth had me ready to come. Just before I did, I pulled her off me, and to her surprise, threw her on the bed. I pulled aside the gusset of her exercise outfit and shoved my cock into her steamy pussy in one stroke. She groaned, but two strokes later, I pulled out till just the head of my cock was in her, and I came in her, not allowing her a chance to come herself. I got off of her and put her outfit back into place. She said, "Please, sir, can I make myself come?" "Sure," I replied, "just as soon as you finish your workout." She groaned, but we went to the gym. When we got to the gym, Veronica greeted us. "Ready for your workout?" she asked Becky. "I think so," Becky replied, as Nelly came up. "OK then," Nelly said, "Let's get started." I sat with Veronica as Nelly put Becky through her paces. First, she did twenty minutes on the treadmill. Then Nelly sat down in front of the mirrors at one of the workout machines. She looked at herself in the mirror and then whirled towards me, finally realizing the extent of her punishment. The crotch of her workout suit was soaked with my cum. "Your friend looks a little excited," Veronica said to me. "Is she always this excited about working out?" I looked at Veronica as I considered her. She was certainly attractive, and she had expressed interest in borrowing Becky. I wasn't ready to lend her out, but I was interested to see where she would go with this. "It isn't her juices leaking out, it's mine," I told Veronica. "Really? Didn't she want to clean up before wearing that?" Veronica asked. "Well, what she wanted is not really relevant. However, she is being punished for lying to me, so she was not allowed to clean herself up," I said. "What did she say to deserve this?" she asked, pointing to Becky, who was on a machine with her legs spread and the wet crotch of her workout suit sticking to her pussy lips. "She told me that a woman had kissed her, when she had been the one to initiate the kiss," I said. "So she kisses other women, and you are OK with that?" she asked. "When the other women do as I tell them," I told Veronica. "And what did this other woman have to do?" she asked. "Well, if she wants Becky, and she does, she will first have to give up her ass to me, and then she will belong to Becky," I replied. At this point, Veronica's large nipples were clearly visible under her shirt, and she was squirming in her seat. "And what would someone have to go through to have Becky belong to them temporarily?" Veronica asked. I thought about that for a few minutes, and then I said, "No matter who comes into our house, and their relationship with Becky, it has to be clear that I am in charge. If someone wanted to be dominant to Becky, they would first have to spend a weekend demonstrating their submissiveness to me." She looked at me for a while, and then she looked down and said, "I'll keep that in mind. Thanks for chatting. I'll see you later," and off she went. I hung out until Becky was done. When Becky was finished her workout, I asked Nelly how she had done. "She is doing fine. She is working hard, and if she keeps this up, we can get her body in great shape." "Great," I said, "she'll come by tomorrow after work. Does she know what to do?" "Yup, and I'll see her again on Wednesday," Nelly told me. I took Becky home. As soon as we got in the door, she stripped off her clothes. I took her and put her in the shower. I washed her body all over, and spent a long time on her hair. "I want you to know that I think you are doing really well, and you are making me very happy," I told Becky. "Thank you, sir, I am trying," she responded. "Are you enjoying yourself as well?" I asked. "Surprisingly, I am. I feel good about my workout, and I enjoyed my time shopping," she told me. She lowered her eyes and whispered, "I even enjoyed my punishment, all parts of it, sir." I smiled and asked, "Did Nelly say anything to you about it?" "She said it looked like I was _really_ enjoying working out, but I told her that it was more like you were really enjoying me. You are really enjoying me, aren't you?" "You know I am, you sweet little thing!" I said. "And how do you feel about Christine?" "I enjoyed playing with her, sir," she said. "Would you want to take it further?" I asked. "I think so, sir," she replied. "Have you ever done anything with a woman before?" I asked. "You know I haven't, sir!""How do you think I would feel, watching the two of you together?" I asked. Becky smirked at me and said, "I think it would turn you on, and you wouldn't know which one of us to fuck first!" "And how would you feel watching me fuck another woman?" I asked. Her expression turned serious, and she said, "Sir, a week ago I would have wanted to cut your balls off. Hell, a week ago I could not imagine calling you sir, sir. However, I think we have both changed. If I was there with you, I would not only be okay with you fucking her, or even someone else, I would put your cock into them myself. Even if I were not with you, I would not be concerned, because I know that no one can please you like I do. I have only one request, sir." "And what is that, my little slut?" I asked. "Please don't fuck anyone else in the ass before you do me? You never had anyone else in the ass, and I want to give you my anal virginity for your first time. Please, sir," Becky pleaded. Once again, she had shocked me. "Becky, my dear," I said, "not only will you be the first ass I have, but I promise you that I will not sleep with anyone other than you, unless you are present or I have told you in advance. I do love you, and I can't imagine anyone else satisfying me the way you do." Becky smiled up at me, and we kissed deeply. Then I swatted her on her ass and I told her, "Now let's get out of here and relax the rest of today." I had Becky put on her in-home wear, the short white mini skirt, I ordered out for food, and we relaxed on the couch. When the delivery person arrived, I got up to pay, but I had Becky stay on the couch, in full view of the door, wearing just her skirt. I loved how red her face got, and I'm sure the delivery guy loved it as well. After the movie and dinner, I took Becky to bed and I slowly made love to her. I held her tight afterwards, and told her that I loved her. "Tomorrow is a work day, and things go a little back to normal. How do you feel about that?" I asked Becky. "Oh my god!" Becky exclaimed. "I can't wear underwear to work, can I?" I shook my head no. "I am going to feel very weird at work, but I'll do whatever you want, sir," she said. "And when you get home from work tomorrow, what are you going to do?" I asked. "I'm going to go to the gym, and then I'm going to come home and change into my house clothes and wait for you to come home so that you can use my body as you want," she said. "Very good," I said. "Now roll over on to me and go to sleep. You have to get up early." And that is what we did. Tired of Being a Nice Guy: Chapter 3 Monday - Day 3 Mmmmm, is there anything nicer than being woken up with a blowjob? Especially one as good as Becky was giving me. I looked down at her, and she was fully dressed, looking very professional in her blouse and skirt. She looked at me, took her mouth off my cock and said, "It's your wake-up blowjob from your wake-up slut, sir. Is there anyway that you want to use me?" "Just keep doing what you are doing, honey," I said, and relaxed and enjoyed it. When she finished, and swallowed, I kissed her good morning. "Before you go," I said, "there is one more thing you need to do. Turn around, bend over, and put your hands on the bed." As I went to get the next size up butt-plug, she asked, "At work, sir?" "Anywhere I want you to," I said, and inserted the butt-plug in her. I gave her the lubricant and said, "You can take it out if you have to go to the bathroom, but you need to put it back when you are finished. Do you understand?" "Yes, sir," she said. "Then have a good day at work," I told her, gave her a kiss and she left. Becky goes to work a few hours earlier than I do, but she gets out early as well. That is how she would be able to go to the gym early, and still get home before I do. I enjoyed the rest of the morning and then went to work, where I manage computer systems. During the day, I called Becky's best friend, Jamie. "Hey," she said after she answered the phone, "to what do I owe the honor of this call?" "Becky asked me to call you," I said. "She wants you to stop by after work today to give you something, or ask you something, I'm not sure what. Do you have time today?" "Sure," she said. "How are things going otherwise?" We chitchatted for a few minutes, and then we both got back to work. Jamie had been Becky's best friend for a long time, and I wanted to test the waters on how she acted around our friends. I thought Jamie would be the best person to start with. That night, I arrived home to a treat. As soon as I walked in the door, Becky, dressed as I had instructed, jumped me. She pushed me against the wall, kissing and hugging me. "Please, sir," she pleaded, "please fuck me. Fuck me now!" She dropped to her knees, pulled my cock out, and swallowed it into her mouth. Never one to turn down a desperate woman, I picked Becky up, bent her over the couch, raised her skirt and sank my cock into her. She was coming as soon as I started, but I still had a long way to go. I noticed she was still wearing her butt-plug, and as I was moving my cock in and out of her, I started doing the same with the butt-plug. "Oh, what are you doing to my ass, sir?" she cried, as she continued to come. I kept fucking her until I was ready to come, and then I said, "Dinner time," and pulled out and went around to her face. She grabbed my cock and swallowed it as I started coming. She got every drop. We both sat on the couch, trying to catch our breath. "Is this the way that I will get greeted every day?" I asked. "At least on the days that you play dirty tricks on me!" she replied. I smiled at her and said, "Let's watch some TV." I went to the computer and queued up the video. I fast-forwarded through Becky leaving in the morning, then me leaving. The next thing it showed was Becky coming home. Becky walked through the door and stripped off her clothes. "Good girl," I said as I nuzzled her neck. She folded her clothes and went to the bedroom. When she returned, she was wearing her white mini skirt. She walked in front of the camera and did a little pirouette. Then she went to the kitchen and started cleaning a little. She then came out and flipped on the news when the doorbell rang. Becky looked up nervously and then walked over to the door. She looked through the peephole and called out, "Jamie? What are you doing here?" "I was told that you wanted to see me. Aren't you going to let me in?" Jamie asked in a muffled voice through the door. "One minute," Becky replied. She seemed to be in a bit of a dither, unable to decide what to do. Finally, she sighed, straightened her shoulders, and opened the door. "Won't you come in?" she asked. "Becky!" Jamie said, as she rushed in and shut the door behind her. "You're not dressed! How can you answer the door like that? Someone could have seen you!" "Someone did see me. You," Becky replied. "Come on in and sit down." As they walked to the couch, Becky turned to the camera and stuck her tongue out. As they sat on the couch, Jamie said, "Aren't you going to put a shirt on?" "No, I can't," said Becky. "Why can't you?" asked Jamie. "First, why did you come over - no wait, let me guess. _Someone_ called you and said you should come over, right?" Becky asked. "Yes, he said that you wanted to tell me or show me something, why?" asked Jamie. "He is incorrigible. Oh well, I guess eventually it would have happened" said Becky. "What would have happened? What is going on? Becky, I am your best friend and you are driving me crazy. Would you please tell me what is going on?" Jamie demanded. "OK, my relationship has... changed," Becky said. "We are not the same we were the last time you were with us together. God, how do I say this? Basically, I do everything that he tells me to do. He told me that at home, the only thing I can wear is this skirt, and so that is all I can wear. The only other way I can be is completely nude." "I don't understand, why are you doing this? Why are you acting like his slave?" Jamie asked. "Not his slave. Not yet. He won't allow that," Becky said. "What do you mean he won't allow that? Becky, you start at the beginning and you tell me everything that happened!" Jamie yelled. "Well, he told me he wasn't happy; that I was too high maintenance, always complaining, always having him take care of me, and that he was leaving me," Becky started. "That bastard!" Jamie said. "No," said Becky, "after he left I thought about it, and I realized that he was right. I especially realized that I was just never happy. So I thought about it, and I decided if I wasn't happy with my life the way it was, I should try living a different way. "I loved him so much, and I realized I hadn't been showing it. I wanted to make him happy and I wasn't, and I wasn't making myself happy either. So I convinced him to meet me, and I offered myself to him as his complete slave. I would do anything that he wanted." "I can't believe you did that!" cried Becky. "How could you want to be treated like a slave? You can't act like that!" "That's what he said," Becky went on. "He said I couldn't change, that I needed too much for myself. But you are both wrong. Since Friday I have done everything that he said, and I have loved every second of it!" "What has he told you to do?" Jamie asked. "Clearly clean the house in the nude? All sorts of sex things, I bet. Has he shared you with his friends?" "Well, you are close," said Becky. "He has stripped me. I don't wear underwear anymore, or any pants; he likes to have easy access to me. He makes me work out in the gym. He takes me to dinner and plays with me outside. He has exposed me to a saleswoman in a store. When I am bad, he spanks me. I am sitting here right now with a butt-plug up my ass so that when he wants to fuck me up the ass I will be ready." "How could you let him get away with that?" asked Jamie."Aren't you horribly embarrassed? I would be mortified just sitting here topless with my friend!" "I am embarrassed when he does these things to me. But you know what? I am also turned on. He has made me cum more in the last few days than I have in any given month in my life! He spanks me when I am bad and exposes me for his pleasure, but he gives me such pleasure too! And he loves me, Jamie; he really loves me. I know he does. "Jamie, for the first time in a long time, I am happy. He didn't think I could do this, but I convinced him to give me a thirty-day trial. At the end of the thirty days, I am going to be his slave forever!" Jamie sat back, clearly stunned. "I don't understand you. Did he somehow brainwash you? You are not the same person I knew!" "You're right, Jamie," said Becky. "I am not the same person. But I am still your best friend. I want you to be happy for me. I want you to still be my friend. It would devastate me to lose you, but this is how I am going to be. Please don't hate me." "I could never hate you," said Jamie. "I just don't understand you. Tell me everything that happened to you. Start from the beginning and don't stop until you get to the part where you are sitting on the couch with your best friend, topless." "OK," said Becky, and proceeded to give a rundown of everything that happened. It was very exciting to hear it from Becky's perspective. When she mentioned the waxing, Jamie's eyes drifted down to Becky's crotch. Becky lifted her skirt up to show her bald pussy. "Becky!" yelled Jamie in embarrassment. "I know you were curious, so I showed you. You are not the first person to see it!" said Becky. Becky continued, and Jamie said, "I noticed the hair, but with everything else going on, I didn't get to tell you how good you looked with it." "Thanks," said Becky. She then continued with her story, and when she got to the part about Christine, she gasped. "You kissed her? And felt her up? Are you going to do anything more with her?" asked Jamie. "What I suspect will happen," Becky said, "is that she will get herself all worked up thinking about it. I think eventually she will call, and she will come over here. And when she does, I am going to grease up her asshole and put his cock in it. Then, when he is done, I will clean his cock off with my mouth, because that is my job. And then I am going to own her, and I am going to do to her whatever I want and he allows. And that includes eating her out, and having her eat me, and watching as he fucks her. "Not only that, but there is a woman at the gym, Veronica, and I think that at some point she is going to convince him to lend me to her, and she is going to do things to me, and you know what? If he tells me to, I will probably love every minute of it!" Jamie sat there with her mouth open. "I don't understand," she whispered. Becky took her hand and said, "I know. Unless he made you feel like he made me feel, you couldn't possibly understand. Three days ago I couldn't have understood. When I told him he could do this, I never thought it could go this far, and I certainly never thought that I'd be the one pushing, but as much as I do for him, as much as I give him, as much as he takes from me, I get so much more. I have never felt so good and I have never been this happy in my whole life." Jamie said, "It doesn't sound like I know him anymore, either." "You don't," said Becky. "But you should. Come to dinner here on Wednesday. Please? Come see what it is like. I'll ask him not to embarrass you too much! Will you come?" Jamie seemed to shake herself, but said, "OK. But don't tell him to change his behavior on my account. I want to see what it is really like here. Is there anything that I can bring?" "Just yourself," said Becky. "Oh, and you can't wear pants. He doesn't allow a woman in pants in the house." "But I'm wearing pants now," Jamie said. "And if you are staying longer, you'll have to remove them. It's a rule. I think it will be OK if you wear panties, though." "I hope so!" Jamie exclaimed. Becky looked at the clock and said, "He'll be home soon. You have to go. I have to get ready. Tonight, I think he's going to fuck my virgin ass! I can't wait!" "Are you serious?" Jamie asked. "You can't imagine! I love him so much, and I can show him by giving him my last cherry." "Well," said Jamie, "I don't understand it, but you seem so happy. I'll let you prepare, but I'll see you Wednesday." Becky showed Jamie out, and then rushed to the bathroom. After she came out, she went to the bedroom, and the tape started again when I walked in the door. I watched me fucking her, and it felt weird seeing myself having sex on tape. When the tape was over, I reset the camera and then turned to her. "So you want me to take your ass?" "Yes, sir," she replied. "I know I am being presumptuous, but please, will you take my virginity? I want you to have it, and I cannot wait any more. I am ready. I cleaned myself out and have lots of lubrication. I want to make you feel good with my ass. Please." This was day three. Four days ago, if I had asked to play with her ass, she would have yelled at me and gone to sulk. Now, she is begging me to please fuck her in the ass. I don't know what gods to thank for this, but I cannot believe how my life is turning out. I stood up and picked Becky up in my arms. I kissed her gently and carried her to the bedroom. I put her down in the bed, and kissed down her body. I played with her nipples until she was on the verge of cumming. Then I continued down her body until I had my tongue in her pussy. I licked and sucked at her pussy and clit till she did come. As she was coming, I removed the butt-plug from her ass. As she was starting to come down, I moved my tongue to her asshole, and she started up the slope again. I then reached to the bedside table where she had placed the K-Y. I put some on my finger and pressed it into her ass. My finger slipped in with no problem, her ass having just had the plug in it. I slipped another finger in, but she said, "Sir, please. Just fuck me. Don't open me up any more. I want to feel it when you go in me. Please! I can't wait any more!" Again, I am not one to turn a needy lady down. I greased up my cock and put the head by her puckered asshole. I pushed about a quarter of the way in, and she gasped as my head went through her sphincter. "Oh, sir!" she cried. "That feels good! Fuck me all the way!" I slowly pushed the rest of the way in. I stopped when I was fully buried. It was a good thing that I had come so recently, because otherwise I would be cumming right now. I waited for a minute, getting used to the feel. Becky was breathing heavily below me. I started moving in and out, and I told her to play with her clit. After about a dozen strokes, Becky was cumming again. It felt like she would cut my dick off, but in a good way. When she finished cumming I resumed my movement. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore and I started pouring cum into her asshole. "I can feel you cumming in me, sir!" she cried, as she came again. When I finished, I collapsed on top of her, and then rolled off of her so I would not hurt her. Becky started kissing my lips and neck. "Oh, that was so good, sir. Please feel free to fuck me in the ass anytime you want!" Then, she moved down my body and took my cock in her mouth. "You don't have to do that after I fuck your ass," I said. She looked up at me and said, "Sir, my job is to clean you up after you cum. That doesn't change if you cum in my cunt, my mouth, my ass, or someone else. You promised it to me as my job, and I will do it!" Then she went back to cleaning my dick. When she was done, she came back up and snuggled on me. We lay there quietly for a while. "Sir?" Becky asked. "Yes, my little anal slut. What can I do for you?" I asked. She shivered when I called her the name, and said, "Ooooo, I love it when you call me your little anal slut. Maybe I should get myself a bracelet that says 'Little Anal Slut' on it?" "I will be getting you any jewelry like that, not you!" I instructed. "Yes, sir," she said, and then lay quietly on me for a while. "You never asked your question," I prompted her. "What do you think of Jamie?" she asked. "What do you mean? You know I like Jamie," I responded. "But how would you like her as a slave?" she asked. "What!" I exclaimed, sitting up. "What do you mean by that?" "I mean, how would you like to have two slaves, me and Jamie?" Becky asked. I lay back down and thought for a minute. "Why should I need two slaves? And from the video I watched, I don't think Jamie would be interested. And why are you interested in building a harem for me? How about Christine or Veronica? Do you want all of them? Or for me to have all of them?" Becky put her head on my chest and said, "I know Jamie better than you do, sir. I know she was protesting, but I think she was more excited than she would admit. I think that she would be interested, and I think that the deeper we get into this, the more she would be interested. Also, she is my best friend, and I can't think of anyone else I'd want to share you with more." "Why would you want to share me with anyone?" I asked. "Because I think that would make you happy, sir. Plus, I think that I would like it. As for Christine, I think she would make a good slave for me, sir, and Veronica wants to be my mistress, but Jamie would be like a sister slave. We could be equal under you." I lay there quietly for a long time, thinking. Then I said, "Becky, I don't know what to say, or what to think. I am getting pretty sure that I will make you a slave when all this is done, but you are throwing these other things at me, and even though you say you will share, I am worried how that will work. And I am not sure if I want to share you. So why don't we play it by ear, OK?"Yes, sir," Becky said, "but I'll bet you that Jamie will have her panties off within five minutes of coming into the apartment on Wednesday and that she will go home and shave her pussy bare afterwards." "OK, I said, "You want to bet, it's a bet. You have five minutes to get me her panties from when she walks in. And no cheating; you can't tell her anything in advance. You get them to me, and you get to pick the position that I will fuck you in when she leaves. But if you lose, I get to try out that crop that you bought." "It's a deal, sir!" she said. "OK, now go to bed. I love you, Becky." "I love you too, sir." Tired of Being a Nice Guy: Chapter 4 Tuesday - Day 4 I could get very, very used to this. Once again, I awoke to a lovely blowjob. Becky was licking gently up the sides of my cock, then swirling her tongue around it like the stripe up the side of a candy cane. She would then take the head in her mouth and suck gently. I was contemplating coming into her mouth when I looked down at her. She smiled up at me and said, "Good morning, sir," before continuing her task. Becky was again dressed for work. She had on a lovely button-down blouse and a skirt. Of course, there were no panties under the skirt. "This morning," I said to her, "I would like to see my professional-looking wake-up slut riding me." "Yes, sir!" Becky said happily, as she eagerly hiked her skirt up and climbed on top of me. She placed my cock at the entrance to her pussy when I warned her, "Slowly." She dropped down very slowly until her ass rested on my balls. "Stop," I told her. I rearranged her skirt and looked at her. She was lovely, sitting there dressed for work. At first glance, you could not tell if she was just sitting on me, or if she was impaled on me. Of course, my cock could certainly tell. Seeing her like this gave me delicious ideas. "You can move now," I told her, "but only side to side, not up and down." "Yes, sir!" she grinned at me and started slowly moving her hips in circles. "I don't think I want to go all day without seeing you, today," I told her. "Are you free for lunch?" "Oh, yes sir! Where would you like to go?" she asked. "I'll come by your office to pick you up, and I'll let you know then," I told her. It's always interesting having a conversation with someone that is slowly fucking you. I slid my hand up her thighs, slowly pushing her skirt up until her bald pussy was exposed. I put my thumb on her clit and started moving it around, to Becky's obvious appreciation. "Hey, your pussy is still smooth. Does a waxing last this long?" I asked. "Mostly, sir," Becky breathed at me, "but I've been shaving it every morning to make sure. I know you like it smooth." "Just like a little girl's," I said. "Are you my little girl?" "Oh, yes sir, I'm your naughty little girl! Your bad little girl!," and with that she was cumming. Seeing her face, and feeling her jerking around on top of me put me over the edge as well. After a few minutes of resting, Becky lifted her pussy off my cock and rested her pussy on my crotch. I could feel our juices leaking on me, and I told her so. "I know, sir, but I promise I'll clean it up. If I don't let them drip out a little, it will make a mess of my clothes. And I don't want to get off of you just yet and go to the bathroom." Becky stayed on me for a few minutes, but then realized she had to leave for work. So she climbed off and surveyed my cock. It was quite messy. "Mmmmm, breakfast," she said, and started cleaning me off with her tongue. She looked up at me and said, "I love cleaning you off, sir, but I keep getting hair in my mouth. Would you mind if I shaved you?" I thought about it as she finished up and said, "OK, but no waxing - I'm not nearly as brave as you. And I am annoyed enough having to shave my face, so if you start this, it is your responsibility to keep me smooth. And you'd better be careful! I wouldn't want him out of commission." "Neither would I, sir!" she replied. "Then you can start this weekend. Now go to work," I told her. "Yes, sir," she said, and gave me a big kiss before going off to work. +++++ At work, I realized that I had been having much more relaxing, enjoyable days since I'd been starting the day off right. A blowjob and a fuck beat a cup of coffee any day! But I had plans for lunch, so I went to the corner deli and got Becky a soup and sandwich. I went over to her building and wandered into her office. When I walked into her office, she was in a discussion with a co-worker, a tall brunette. When she saw me, she almost ran over and gave me a big kiss. "Oh, you're here already, sir!" Becky said. "I wasn't expecting you yet." She turned to her co-worker and said, "Sorry, Rachel, we'll have to finish this later. I've got a lunch date." After Rachel left, Becky asked, "Where are we going for lunch?" I had Becky sit at her desk and said, "You will be eating this lovely sandwich at your desk. And I will be eating my lovely Becky under the desk." "But, sir…" Becky started nervously. Then she got a wicked grin on her face, pushed herself away from the desk and let me climb under. She wiggled her skirt up, and rolled herself back under the desk. I heard her open her lunch as I moved my face between her legs and started my lunch. I figured she deserved at least a half hour for lunch, so I started nice and slow. I licked all around her lips and thighs, staying away from her clit for the moment. Then I pulled her to the edge of her chair and started taking long licks up, starting at her asshole and going all the way to her clit, letting my tongue slip deeply into her pussy on each stroke. At the end of each stroke, I took my head away for a moment and then started at the bottom again. I loved drinking her juices, and I was getting a large serving from her today. I was about to attack her clit when I heard her door open. Someone started to come in and then realized that Becky was in the office. "Oh, I'm sorry Becky," I heard. "I just needed the Banyan file and Rachel said you had gone out to lunch." "That's OK. I'm just eating my lunch at my desk. You can get the file." The last word was a bit strained as I let my tongue swipe at her clit. I then moved it very slowly, barely touching around the outside of her pussy lips. "Are you OK, Becky?" the intruder asked. "You look a bit flushed." "I'm fine," Becky said. But she was not fine; she was quickly approaching an orgasm. "Here it is. Thanks, Becky," said the stranger. "Can you close the door behind you?" Becky asked. "I think I'll rest a bit after I finish lunch." "Sure," came the reply, and I heard the door close. As the door closed, I grabbed Becky's clit between my teeth and buried two fingers in her cunt. She squeaked as she came, juices pouring out onto my face. I pushed her chair back and knelt up to kiss her. "Oh, sir, that was so hot. I think she suspected! And look at the mess I made of your face." With that, Becky proceeded to lick my face clean. "If you think it was hot getting eaten in your office, wait for what's next. Go lock your door, then bend over your desk." I couldn't tell if Becky was scared but excited, or excited but scared as she did what I told her. I raised her skirt and lowered my zipper. I submerged my cock in her from behind, and Becky shoved her fist in her mouth to restrain her groan. I moved my cock in and out slowly and ran my hands around her ass, running my finger down her ass crack and around her puckered hole. "God, I wish I had thought to bring something so that I could fuck this delicious looking ass of yours," I told her. Becky turned her head to look at me and said, "You can, sir." "I can what?" I asked. "You can fuck my ass, sir." "I didn't bring any K-Y, and I think it would be a little painful without," I said. She just looked at me, her eyes half closed, and said, "But sir, every morning I now clean myself out and grease myself up so that you can take me if you want. I am still lubricated, and you should feel free to use me as you want." I pulled out of her, turned her over, and asked, "Who are you, and what have you done with my Becky?" Becky giggled and said, "It's me, sir, but I am going to prove to you that you can never do better with anyone else. By the time this month is over, you won't even be able to imagine how life could be better without me." And with that, she reached up and gave me a tonsil-clearing kiss. Then she flipped back over and said, "Now fuck your little slut's ass!" Remember what I've said about not turning down a woman in need? I buried my cock into her in one stroke, and true to her word, she was well lubricated. "Oh, sir, I'm going to have to start bringing a gag to work, because I don't know how I'm going to be able to keep quiet. Please cover my mouth for me!" So with my cock buried in her ass, I grabbed her hair in one hand and pulled her head back, and moved my other hand to cover her mouth, stopping on the way to squeeze a nipple. Then I started pounding into her, though I was careful not to let my body slap on her ass too noisily. Becky did a fair job of being quiet, though my hand did muffle quite a few groans and grunts, and a few of my grunts got out as well. As I started to get close, I leaned over, took my hand off her mouth and said, "You've been such a good slut today, so I'm going to let you choose. Where do you want me to cum?" "Oh, sir, in my mouth, please!" she responded. "Right from your ass?" I asked. "I cleaned it out this morning. Please. Cum in my mouth!" she said. So after fucking my cock a few more times into her delightfully tight ass, I pulled out and Becky knelt on the floor and took the head of my cock in her mouth as I started feeding her dessert. After I was done, she licked my cock clean. She made a little face and said, "I guess I could still taste myself a little, but frankly the lubricant tasted worse. I'm going to have to buy some flavored lubricant."I couldn't help but laugh, and I said, "You do that. Have I mentioned that you are amazing?" "Yes, sir, but keep saying it!" she replied with a grin. We straightened up our clothes and the desk. I was getting ready to leave when I sniffed the air and said, "You might want to open a window, or people will know what was up in here." Becky opened her mouth and covered it with her hand. "But sir, the windows don't open." "Well then, I guess you shouldn't have too many meetings in here," I said with a wink. "Thank you for lunch, sir. It was the best lunch I've had in... probably forever. Please come again any time!" "Want to walk me to the door, or should I show myself out?" I asked her. She sank in her chair and said, "Would you mind showing yourself out. I am completely beat and would like to rest for a few minutes." "Sure," I said. I gave her a kiss, told her I loved her, and left her office. Just outside I passed Rachel and another woman. They both looked surprised and Rachel said, "I thought you had left! Joan said that Becky was eating lunch alone in her office." "No," I said, "I was eating with her. See you ladies." As I reached the door, I saw that Rachel and (I presume) Joan were heading over to Becky's office. +++++ When I got home tonight, Becky was in the kitchen. She was nude, except for an apron, and she was cooking some sort of pasta for dinner. When she saw me come in, she ran over and kissed me quickly. "I'm sorry I can't kiss you more, sir, but I have to keep stirring." "That's fine, I'm going to change," I said. After I changed, I went out and helped Becky finish dinner and set the table. When we sat down to eat (before which Becky removed her apron), I asked her how the rest of her day went. "Interesting," she replied, blushing. "Details, please," I asked. "Well, after you left, Rachel and Joan came into my office," she started. "Joan was the person that walked in on us?" I asked. "Yes, sir. Rachel asked why we didn't go out for lunch, and I told her that you had brought me lunch. She asked if you had brought lunch for you too, but I told her you didn't. She said, 'so he didn't eat', and I said, 'he did'. Then Joan said, 'that's what that smell is! You slut, you got a nooner.' "Oh, sir! I was so embarrassed and so turned on again at the same time. But they were both really nice; they told me how jealous they were, and that next time I should tell them and they wouldn't disturb me. Sir, I told them, 'That's OK, I think he liked it better being disturbed.' I couldn't believe that I said that to them! "They teased me for a bit longer, and then we all went back to work." "Mmmmm, very nice. Have I mentioned that you are one sexed up lady?" I asked her. "No, sir, but I try," she responded with a smile. "So that was all the excitement for the day? How was your workout?" I asked. "Well, not quite all the excitement. Jamie called during the day and talked about dinner tomorrow night. Then she asked me what depraved things you made me do today. I told her that you had brought me lunch, and had me for lunch. She couldn't believe that I had done that in the office, but I could tell it was making her hot. Before she hung up, I told her, 'I bet you'll be wishing it were you when you play with yourself tonight.' She shrieked at me that I am so bad, but I bet she does. I bet she is at home right now playing with herself thinking about it." "Why don't you call her and see?" I asked. "Oh, that is such a good idea, sir!" she said, and rushed to the phone. She made the call and said, "Hi Jamie, what are you doing?" I only heard the one side of the conversation. "You seem pretty out of breath for someone just eating dinner. Are you sure you are not thinking about eating lunch? Or someone eating you for lunch?" "I may be bad, but tell me with a straight face that you were just eating dinner. Tell me what you are wearing eating dinner?" "You know what I'm wearing - nothing at all. It's all I'm allowed!" "Oh, I don't wear that skirt all the time! And you never answered my question. What are you wearing? What are you doing?" "I knew it! You say you don't understand how I do it, but you are soooo hot thinking about it." "You are such a liar. I'll tell you what. Tomorrow when you come over we're going to have a normal dinner. If, at the end of dinner, your pussy is soaked, you have to do a task I tell you to!" "I am not a slut. OK, maybe I am, but still..." "What makes you think I'd let you fuck him? And no, I won't do anything to you either. I'll just give you a job to do. It won't involve anyone but you." "Then I'll take you out to dinner this weekend at the restaurant of your choosing, but I know you, you tramp. But you'll never win." "OK, go back to your '_dinner_'. I'll see you tomorrow night. Bye." "So, did you enjoy that?" I asked. "Oh, yes I did, sir. The little tramp was diddling herself! And she tried to deny it. She got so hot thinking about what you did to me. I can't wait till tomorrow." "And what are we doing tomorrow? Are you planning a show?" I asked. "No, sir. You should treat me just as you would if she wasn't here. It will drive her insane!" "OK, honey. I'm glad you're having fun," I said. "Now how about the gym? How was that?" "It was good. I did all the exercises Nelly gave me. It still exhausts me, but I feel good afterwards," she told me. "And was Nelly or Veronica there?" I asked. "Nelly wasn't," she replied, "but Veronica was. She seemed to be avoiding me, though. What did you say to her last time?" "I just told her the price for having you. Maybe she doesn't want to pay that much," I told her. "My price! Am I a whore, now?" Becky cried. "Do you want to be my whore?" I asked. Becky came over and sat in my lap. "I'd rather be your slut, sir." "Well, what if I wanted you to be my whore? What if I found someone that would pay good money for a night with you? Then what would you do?" I asked. Becky was quiet for a moment and then said, "If you want to sell me, I'll be your whore, sir." "Well, don't worry about it yet, pet," I said, "I wasn't talking about money with Veronica, and I don't really think she'd want to do what I asked, and even if she did, I don't think I'd be willing to let her do what she wants with you." "Oh, thank you sir, for taking care of me," Becky said, putting her face into my neck. "Is there some way I can repay you?" "I think you've done enough today!" I said. "I'm only human, you know, and if we don't slow down just a little, my dick might fall off." "It better not!" cried Becky. "I need it." "Don't worry. Just come to bed with me." We went to bed and I spooned her. I did need a break, and I loved the feeling of just laying in bed with her. Tomorrow I would get a report from Nelly on how she was doing, and we would have Jamie over for dinner. It should be an interesting day. Tired of Being a Nice Guy: Chapter 5 Wednesday - Day 5 On Wednesday, I woke up a little early. I heard Becky puttering around the bathroom, getting ready for work. I remained in bed, resting. Becky came out all ready to go to work, except for one thing of course. I didn't let her know I was awake as she came up to me. She took the covers off me, but before she could start my morning blowjob, I grabbed her and threw her on the bed. Becky shrieked in surprise as I grabbed her skirt and pulled it up, burying my face in her pussy. Becky quickly stopped resisting and started moaning. I licked her pussy and stuck a finger in her cunt and then another in her ass. I brought her to orgasm, but I would not stop till I brought her off again. After she came the second time, I moved up and kissed her. When her breathing returned to normal, she said, "Thank you for that, sir." I responded, "If you recall, I said that I would do things for myself. Well, I happen to really enjoy eating you; your taste, your reaction, your movements. Believe me when I say that it was for my pleasure!" "Well, now let me pleasure you some more," said Becky, as she tried going down on me. I would not let her. "Not this morning," I told her. "I had my pleasure this morning; I'll save the rest for tonight. Plus, if you keep making me cum as much as you do, I think my balls will fall off." Becky snuggled into me and said, "As you wish, sir, but can I at least clean your face off?" She then proceeded to do so, with her tongue. "You seem to be enjoying the taste of pussy," I said. "Well, it's growing on me. I certainly don't mind it," Becky responded. "Just your own?" I asked. "I don't know yet, sir," she replied. "I haven't tried anyone else's, have I?" When I was clean, and I had snuggled with her a little more, I sent her off to work. +++++ It was a fairly normal day at work, except for the anticipation of tonight. It would be, for the most part, Becky's show. She had asked me to act as if it was a normal night for us, and I was willing to comply. When I got home, Becky met me at the door with a big hug and a tonsil-cleaning kiss. It looked like she had been cooking for a while. "Jamie will be here in about an hour," she said. "Why don't you make yourself comfortable? Can I get you a drink or a snack?" "A drink would be nice. Is there anything I can do to help?" I asked. "Oh no, sir. I want to do this myself. You just relax," she said. "OK," I said. "Is there anything else I should know about tonight?" "Not really, sir," Becky told me. "From the perspective of how you treat me, I think that you should treat tonight as if we were home alone. I want Jamie to see what it's like to be me now." "So if I get horny during dinner, I can have you lie over the table, grease up your ass, and give you a good ass-fuck in front of Jamie?" I asked. "Well, that might be a bit much, sir. I was thinking of just having you treat me as normal, but without the overt sex. Of course, if you want to, I would not dream of stopping you.I would just like to point out, once again, that there is no need to grease me up, sir. Have I mentioned how much I love the new Becky? "And what do you want to get out of tonight?" I asked. "Why are you doing this? What are you hoping to accomplish in the long term? And Becky, be honest." Becky thought about this for a minute or two, and then said, "Well, sir, I am not 100% sure I know myself. One thing is to show her my new life, because I really want her to accept it. I think that when she sees how much I am enjoying this, she will. "Another thing is to turn her on. She says that she doesn't understand how I could let you treat me this way, but I think that she really does understand, maybe so much so that she is afraid of it. I think that by the end of tonight she will be at home frigging herself mercilessly, wishing that it were she here instead of me. "I've also been thinking about her and you, sir, and I think it would really turn me on to watch you fucking her. I know that doesn't seem possible, and a few weeks ago I would have left you in an instant if I thought you were making a play for her, but the last few days have really opened my eyes. "I actually sat at work today, picturing Jamie bent over the couch while you fucked her from behind. And I have to admit that I thought about sucking your cum out of her. I can't believe it myself; I've never even been with a woman before, but I was turned on by it." "So you want to treat her like Christine," I asked. "No, sir," she replied. "I don't really know Christine that well, and I liked controlling her. But I've known Jamie all my life. She is my best friend. I don't really want to control her, and I wouldn't want to be controlled by her, but I wouldn't mind sharing you with her. I think it would be so hot, and I think that after she got over her initial reluctance and shock, she would think so too." "So what are you looking for out of this," I asked? "A one night stand? Something longer?" "I'm not sure. Everything is still a blur to me, and I guess I am just playing it by ear. I just want to take it a step at a time. Is that OK, sir?" she asked. "Well, you seem to have a pretty good ear, so I'll play along for now," I told her. Becky continued preparing dinner and setting the table, while I talked to her about our respective days and admired her body. She was wearing an apron to protect herself while she cooked, but watching her bend over to get a bowl out of a bottom cabinet was a definite treat. As it was getting close to the time for Jamie to arrive, Becky started to go change. "What will you be changing into?" I asked. "I only have the skirt," she said. "I think you should wear something different today," I told her. "Come here." I then proceeded to fold down the apron and tie it around her. When I was done, she had the apron going from her hips down to just below her pussy. The back, of course, was just the tie string, leaving her ass exposed, and her sexy tits were out for all to see as well. Shortly thereafter, there was a knock on the door. Becky got all excited and said, "I'll get it, you just stay here," and started towards the door. "Becky," I said. "Come here, now." Becky looked startled as I kissed her, then swung her around and gave her ass one very hard slap. "Remember, Becky, who is in charge here." "Yes, sir. I'm sorry. I'll be good." As she went to the door, I could see a red handprint already forming on her ass. Becky opened the door and greeted Jamie with a kiss on the cheek. Jamie looked a little uncomfortable with Becky's dress, or lack of it, as she came in. Becky took the bottle of wine that Jamie gave her and brought it to the kitchen. I saw Jamie looking at Becky's ass as she walked away. I went over and greeted Jamie with a quick hug and a kiss on her cheek. She seemed a little uncomfortable around me as well, maybe even a little scared. I was somewhat unsure how this night would end up; perhaps Becky was pushing too hard. Jamie was dressed in a pale blue blouse and a knee-length white skirt. Her makeup was tasteful and she was wearing a nice, light perfume. We chitchatted for a few moments until we heard Becky. "Hey, Jamie, can you come in here a second?" Becky asked from the kitchen. Jamie went over, and Becky talked to her in a soft voice, though it was loud enough for me to hear. "I was wrong," Becky said to Jamie. "You can't be wearing underwear." "What?" said Jamie, also in a low voice, glancing over at me. "Why not? I'm not his slave, too." "You wish!" Becky replied, causing Jamie to blush even more. "And neither am I, yet. But it would be disrespectful for you to disobey a rule while you are my guest. He won't do anything to you, but I might be punished. So please, just take off your panties." "But..." Jamie started, but seemed unable to finish. She looked at Becky for a moment longer, then reached up under her skirt and pushed her panties down. She stepped out of them and started to put them in her bag, but Becky stopped her. "No, you wore them into his house, so they are now his," Becky said, and she took the panties from Jamie and walked over and handed them to me. I looked at her, and then looked at Jamie. She had her head down and was blushing furiously. I put the moist piece of cloth into my pocket and said, "I think we should sit down for dinner." "OK," Becky said, "you guys sit down and I'll bring the food in." We sat and talked about inconsequential topics throughout the meal. Becky kept getting up to serve us, and each time I enjoyed looking at her ass. I noticed that Jamie was not shy about looking either. During the main course, Becky was refilling our cups when she spilled the contents of my cup right into my lap. I jumped up, and she apologized profusely, trying to help me clean off. I told her to clean the mess by the table, while I went and changed. After I came back, Becky apologized again. I sat down and we finished the main course. Becky asked, "Is everyone ready for dessert?" "Not quite," I said. "Why don't we go into the living room first? There is something we need to take care of." I went and sat on the couch, while Jamie sat in a chair across from me. "You," I said to Becky, "sit on the floor here," pointing in front of me. Becky sat in the correct position, and I continued, "I am not happy with your behavior tonight. Do you know what you did wrong?" "I spilled your drink on you, sir," Becky said. "That's correct, and for that you will get five spanks." I heard Jamie gasp. "What else did you do wrong?" I asked. "I'm not sure, sir," she replied. "When Jamie came in, you gave her the impression that I would punish you for her wearing panties. You know very well that I would not punish you for anyone else's action. You embarrassed her of your own volition and made it seem like it was my doing. So you will be punished for your actions, with fifteen more spanks. Do you understand?" "Yes, sir," she responded. "And before we begin, you need to apologize to Jamie," I told her. Becky crawled over to Jamie and took her hands. She looked up at Jamie and said, "I'm sorry, Jamie. It was me that wanted you without panties, not him. I'm sorry I embarrassed you. I hope you can forgive me." Jamie looked at me, then down at Becky, nervously. "I guess it's OK," she said. "I'd like to correct something Becky said," I told Jamie. "I wanted you without panties, as well. But I am not in a position to require that of you, so I would not have asked. Would you like them back?" Jamie looked at me for a moment, and then said, "That's OK, I guess I'm used to it already. Why don't you keep them?" She smiled shyly at me. "Go get the paddle, Becky," I said. Becky went to the bedroom and came back holding the paddle. "Over my lap," I said. Becky spread herself across my lap, and presented her ass to me. "How many do you get?" I asked. "Twenty with the paddle, sir," she replied. "No," I said. "Spilling the drink just deserves my hand. Five spanks with my hand and then fifteen whacks with the paddle. Count." I started with my hand, and laid five hard ones across her ass. Then I took the paddle and started with it, slowly. By the time I got to five with the paddle, Becky was sobbing and squirming. By the time I got to ten, she was raising her ass to meet the paddle. I looked across at Jamie, and she was squeezing her thighs together and breathing heavily as well. I slowly gave the last five, with each one hearing Becky's grunts and moans. When I finished, Becky said, "Please, sir. Please touch me. Please make me come." I looked up at Jamie and said, "I don't know Becky. I think that might make Jamie uncomfortable, and a guest should not be made uncomfortable. I won't do it unless it is OK with Jamie." Becky turned to look at Jamie and said, "Please, Jamie. Tell him it's OK?" I gave Becky's ass another hard swat. "You will not coerce her," I said. "If it is OK with her, you can come. Otherwise, you will wait." "I'm sorry, sir," Becky said. "I'm sorry Jamie. Please, just tell me. Would you mind if he made me cum? It would only take a few seconds." Jamie looked at us. To me it seemed that she was ready to cum as well. She kept looking at me, then Becky, then Becky's ass, then back to me. After a minute she whispered, "It's OK with me." Becky shrieked, "Thank you! Thank you so much, Jamie! Please, sir. She says it's OK." So I reached between her legs and touched her clit lightly, but that is all that it took, and she wailed as she went off. During her orgasm I plunged two fingers into her and played around the outside of her asshole with my thumb. Becky stayed rigid for about thirty seconds, and then collapsed across my lap breathing like she had just finished a marathon. I let her lie there for a few minutes to recover, shifting my gaze between Becky's red ass and Jamie's flushed face. Not quite the same color red, but not too far off.When I felt enough time had passed, I raised my fingers to my mouth and cleaned them off, while Jamie stared at me. "Anyone else ready for dessert?" I asked. Jamie flushed again and dropped her gaze, while Becky said, "I'll get dessert at the table for you, sir." We went back to the table and had a delicious dessert, though I preferred my pre-dessert. None of us talked about the spanking, instead concentrating on innocuous discussions about plans for the weekend. After dessert, Becky asked Jamie if she wanted to stay and watch a movie, but she declined, saying she really needed to turn in. As Jamie was preparing to leave, Becky said, "One more thing, Jamie. We had a little bet. I think I won." Jamie said, "But what if I say that you are wrong?" "Then I'd say I have to check for myself," said Becky. Jamie flushed again and said, "You won." Then she paused for a moment, looked at me, and said to Becky, "But maybe you'd better check for yourself to make sure." Becky grinned at me, and then went over to Jamie. "Thank you for coming. It was a fabulous evening," and she gave Jamie a hug and a kiss on her cheek, and at the same time, slipped a hand under her skirt and between her legs. Jamie's eyes closed and she sighed loudly. They stayed like that for about 20 seconds before Becky broke the hug. Jamie leaned against the wall, keeping her eyes closed. "You're right," Becky said, "I did win." "What do you want from me?" Jamie asked, her eyes still closed, her tongue licking her lips. "Well, you already know that he likes the women in this apartment to not wear panties. You probably don't know that he also likes them to have shaved pussies. So before you come over and visit next time, I want you to shave your little pussy completely bald. Will you do that for me?" Jamie opened her eyes and looked at Becky, then me. "Sure," she said. "A bet is a bet. Thank you both for having me over." She looked at me and said, "It was certainly an eye-opening experience for me." "Come again any time," I said. Jamie muttered something, and it sounded like, "I need to cum once, first," but I couldn't be sure. She then took her stuff and walked to the door. "Thanks again," she said, and as she was walking out, she whirled around, grabbed Becky and gave her a big kiss on the lips, tongue and all. Then she whirled the other way and ran off. Becky closed the door and turned around to me, her eyes blazing. "Well, as Jamie said, a bet is a bet," I told her. "You had her panties off within five minutes, so you get to pick the position to get fucked in right now." Becky practically ran over to the table and bent over it. "Like this, sir, from behind. And please, spank me while you fuck me." As I was ripping off my clothes, I asked, "Cunt or ass?" "Both," she replied. "Start in my cunt, and when I tell you, I want you to pull out and do my ass. Don't do it slowly. Don't be gentle. Slam it into my ass and don't stop fucking until you cum!" I believe I mentioned before about my response to a desperate woman, and Becky seemed about as desperate as I've ever seen her. She was sopping wet and I slipped in easily and started sawing away with my cock. "Spank me," she reminded me, so I obliged. Her ass was still very red, so I didn't have to hit her very hard to get the effect. She came on my first spank, and kept on coming. After the third or fourth orgasm, she yelled, "My ass, do my ass!" I pulled out, and was so excited I missed her asshole the first time, but I quickly corrected and, as she requested, I rammed it in to the hilt. She was so tight, but well lubricated as promised. She was gasping and moaning, and no doubt waking the neighbors. She would not stop coming, and I could not tell if it was ten orgasms, or a single long one. I finally told her I was going to cum, and she cried, "Yes! Cum in my ass, sir!" I did, and then collapsed on top of her. As my cock softened in her ass, she kept twitching and moaning and, I believe, coming. She was barely coherent, so I picked her up and carried her to our bed. I could feel our cum dribbling out of her as I carried her. I put her in the bed, then climbed in next to her and hugged her. "No, sir. I'm not finished, I have to clean you off," she protested. "Not this time. This time you lie here and go to sleep. I can take care of it in the morning. I wanted to have her call Jamie and see what she was doing with herself, or to herself, now, but we were both too tired, so we quickly fell asleep, with Becky in my arms.	null	null	Authors/mwtb/Tired_00-05.txt
73,335	Allan Joyal	A Peril at Ishtar 21	Yvette and most of the other sponsors were waiting at the tunnel head. Yvette had a slight frown and waved me over. Terrence offered to take the weapons which Brad and I had and get them back to the armory, so we surrendered our weapons to him, and he headed off as we approached Yvette. "Timothy looked bad when he went by," she said. "I alerted Bren and Michael in the medical bay, and his concubines will meet him there." I groaned, suddenly realizing that my battle jacket had been hit at least once, and I was bruised underneath. "I just hope he survives. We just didn't get the first shots off fast enough. The two we missed in the first volley got Eric and Timothy. The marine reflex upgrade makes them snake-quick." Yvette giggled. "You were just as fast, maybe faster. That last guy you took out was waiting for someone to roll out, and you still put him down before he could aim." Brad realized that I was hurting and pushed me down against the wall. "God, how bad are you hit, James?" he shouted as he tore at the straps holding my jacket on. "Bad bruises," I said. "At least I don't seem to be leaking, but I hurt." Yvette turned back to the screen, but I waved my hand. "No medical bay yet. We need to get the rest of the clean-up done and reassure everyone. Besides, I bet Manuel calls soon to complain." Yvette just shook her head. "Sorry, but you are too important. We're going to get a gurney and get you to the medical bay for at least a scan." She turned back towards the screens to quickly glance at them. "AI, call to the medical bay, get another gurney to the crossing, STAT!" I leaned against the wall as Brad finally got my armor off. He turned it around while examining it, and there were three clear dents across the upper torso. I did not want to look down, but the gasps from the sponsors nearby made it clear that my body showed signs of the impact. Brad looked down, and his jaw dropped. "Man, you have to be tough. Your whole chest is one big bruise." "Thanks, I felt so good not knowing that!" I quipped. "Well, Yvette, we have a new problem too." "What? Oh god! Eric's concubines, what do we do?" she said. "And his pod, I don't know the rules on pods if the sponsor dies," I replied. The AI joined in. "If a sponsor dies, his concubines are usually turned over to the civil service until they find a new sponsor. The standard practice is to lock the pod down until it can be reassigned." I coughed, and saw a bit of blood. "Damn, guess I'm hurt a bit worse than I thought," I whispered. "Well, AI, we have no civil service, so how about this. Can the pod that belonged to Eric become a barracks for unassigned concubines for now, and the two ladies who belonged to him remain there?" "It can be done, but it's an inefficient use of space," the AI replied. I tried to sigh as David came back with the gurney, and I climbed onto it with help from Brad and Xavier who had remained at the entrance. Once I was on it, Yvette said she would accompany me to the medical bay, and Xavier surprised us by saying he'd check into the command post. "I never imagined that the fight would come to us. We should include some screens in the command post to match the trio here, and allow the command post to watch the corridor since any response comes from there," he suggested. "Do it," I gasped. I tried to stay awake, but my vision was slowly blurring as I felt David begin pushing the gurney towards the medical bay. I wanted to say more, but the pain finally overwhelmed me, and I passed out.And you better be ready to explain what you did to my men!" thundered in the air immediately after I finished speaking. The area around me grew quiet. "Well, the who really doesn't matter," I replied. "You are on the other side of the door, and I don't think we'll be meeting for tea and crumpets anytime soon. As for our explaining what we did to your men, well, they came over and blew up one of our protective doors. We gave them a warm and sharp welcome, and now four of them are not part of the living. Is that good enough for you?" The voice grew higher pitched. "I needed those men! This is war out here with that lesbian ape and her cavemen friends. You think I have enough soldiers to be able to replace the four I lost? You better give me new ones!" "Why?" I asked reasonably. "We have no interest in your fight." "I rule this colony!" Manuel shouted. "It's mine! I earned the right by being the strongest! You will obey and give me the men I need to crush Ruth! I expect to see them within a week!" "Save your breath," I said. "Nothing you or Ruth can say or do interests anyone on this side of the door, and we have the weaponry to stop any attempt to force an entry. Go back to your petty battles, and we'll make sure the Confederacy doesn't decide to just bomb us into oblivion as an eyesore and a discredit to all humanity." There was some incomprehensible sputtering coming from Manuel as the AI ended the connection. Yvette just giggled. "He was angry!" "You think?" the twins said in unison. The party became louder and even merrier after the call ended. Manuel's ineffective bluster had finally convinced many of the concubines that safety within our walls existed, and the knowledge that their families were protected lifted much of the fear from their minds. Everyone relaxed and got back to the serious business of partying and play. Soon I joined in as I was dragged off to the bowling lanes to demonstrate to my concubines my complete lack of prowess at knocking pins over. The next week in the colony was extremely quiet. Manuel and Ruth had pulled their forces back, and a staring match appeared to have ensued. Thanks to the reduction in hostilities, the AI was able to get a more accurate count. Ruth was down to twenty-two loyalists, with another six supporters who were obviously reluctant participants. Manuel had twenty-three loyalists, but no reluctant fighters, although there was evidence that he had four female neutral sponsors under his control as sex toys. The nine remaining neutral sponsors were becoming increasingly frantic and panicked, but the conditions in the tunnels made it impossibly dangerous to attempt any kind of breakout rescue, so other than offering comfort and hope, we could do little for them. Donna, Tiffany, and Gina continued to contact them when they served their shifts in the command post, but there really was little opportunity to help. The command post duties were proving to be boring, but also important. Once a Sa'arm scout ship stumbled through the system, and it was only a quick reaction by Louis that shut down the emissions from the resupply base in time to avoid detection. The scout did notice our colony on the planet, but two missiles from the ship both failed to reach the surface through the corrosive atmosphere, and the ship then left, returning in the direction it came from. Fortunately, Gina had immediately called an alert. Terrence, Yvette, Louis, and I were gathered in less than an hour and reviewing the records. "There is no question that they know now that we are here," Louis said. "I'm still figuring out all the sensor readings, but both missile strikes were aimed directly at us, only the atmosphere protected the colony." "Why fire at all?" Terrence asked. "From what I've seen, usually the Sa'arm like to visit a planet and take everything for themselves." I groaned. "The atmosphere. The Confederacy military was wrong. The Sa'arm have some idea of what the atmosphere is like. They had reason to believe they couldn't land and attack normally, so they tried to bomb us out. That's the only explanation that makes sense." "They'll probably be back soon with a larger ship. Something that they believe can get through the atmosphere," Louis observed. "Are the cannons ready?" I sighed. "They are, but gunners are in short supply. AI, schedule armor fittings for myself, Xavier, Brad, and Fred, and put a priority on forming our battle armor. Inform the other three of the schedule immediately and the reasons why. Yvette, we better get a drill organized for the lasers. Make sure that concubines help out. Getting armored up and strapped in takes time, and we might not have much, so extra hands will speed the process." "Can do," Yvette said. "I'll also see if we can talk Linus to join on the ground crew side. We'll need someone ready to help remove that armor when the mounts return from the surface, and he does have the technical degree." Terrence nodded. "We'll be ready." The meeting was breaking up when the AI announced. "James, if you want, your fitting can commence now." I looked at the others. "I think that works. Anything else I should be informed of though." "The other sections of the colony are quiet," the AI replied. "The hydroponics pod will be ready in one hour, including the dorm for unattached concubines. The multi-use room and school are perhaps six hours from completion. At that time, creation of the basketball court can begin." "Wow!" Yvette said. "Everything is moving fast." We had exited the small briefing room, and I could see Gina and Brad discussing the recent visit. "Great job Gina, and thanks for the fast call. Brad, thanks for coming to cover while Louis briefed us. Things are going to be a bit crazy soon, but we can pull through. Gina, see if you can alert the Navy that we had a Sa'arm scout visit, they might have a carrier that can stop by. Louis, we know the base has some long-range sensor probes. Can we send out a five-probe sweep and see if we can find the nearest Sa'arm planet, perhaps we can give the Navy a target to attack." Everyone gave a nervous laugh, but I could see both Gina and Louis jump to the duties I proposed. Brad seemed a bit worried and looked at me. "I heard that the battle armor fitting has been moved up. You that worried?" "Yes," I replied. "If the Sa'arm get deep enough into the atmosphere, their missiles could reach the base intact. We have to be sure that their attack doesn't get that close." I was about to head into the closet-sized room the AI said was for body scanning as part of the fitting process when Yvette smacked her forehead. "Damn, what do we do about Lisa and Catherine?" "Who?" I asked, stopping at the doorway. "Eric's concubines," Yvette explained. "They have been staying in Eric's pod, and know he's dead, but we haven't done anything more." "God. We forgot them," I moaned. "AI, connect me to Bethany and one of the twins." "Connection open," the AI responded. "Bethany and Tif or Tam, we forgot about Eric's concubines. Can you do me a huge favor and visit them? Just get to know them. I have an armor fitting to work through, but then we can meet and decide what to do. I just hope they aren't too upset about the wait." There was a giggle. "This is Tam, I'll meet Bethany at your pod and we'll head over there, just give the AI permission to let her out." This caused laughter in the command post as all my concubines entered and exited my pod freely after the incident with Ruth at the door. Usually, a concubine in the tunnels was on an errand, but most of the sponsors allowed them to roam the tunnels when they were not busy. I finally managed to enter the measuring chamber and found myself subjected to a series of flashes and orders to pose certain ways. The process was tedious, but the level of detail the AI was reviewing was fascinating. Each individual finger was mapped in multiple positions and tested for individual strength at one point. I spent nearly two hours having every part of my body poked, prodded, and measured before the AI finally allowed me to exit. Xavier was waiting as I came out. "The AI told me to attend an armor fitting. Are things bad?" he asked as I emerged. "The Sa'arm found our colony about four hours ago," I told him. "Their initial attack failed, but I want our ground defense lasers ready." "Dear god!" Xavier said. "Are we ready?" "No, but we will be when they come back. Right now, we need to get armor on some people so we can get the laser defense batteries up," I told him. The AI called out. "James, Sponsor Tamara is saying that she can meet with you back at your pod. Her meeting with Eric's concubines is over for now." Xavier laughed and slapped me on the back. "Get going and play around in Wonderland. I have to face the evil AI and its measurement system." He entered the chamber as I tried to stifle my own laugh. Finally, I got my emotions under control and headed off to my pod. I entered and found Brittany and Meiko sitting at a table reviewing the list of rabbits and some proposed breeding. There were now sixteen litters of kits, totaling sixty-one baby rabbits. The oldest were just about to open their eyes, and I had mentioned that it might be a good idea to breed a few more so that we'd have a flow of young rabbits in the near future. Brittany and Meiko promised to do that and were trying to plan a way to maintain genetic diversity considering the small population. Meanwhile, Tina and Janice stepped out of the gameroom and dragged me inside, looking a bit concerned. I followed, wondering what the issue might be. Tina spoke first. "James, we need to talk. It should be Bethany, but you asked her to meet with Eric's concubines, so Janice and I got elected.""Elected?" I asked, looking over at Janice, who nodded slightly. "Yes, James," Janice said. "You get busy, and we all talk. It's clear that Bethany has become the den mother and spokeswoman for all of us. She looks just out of college, but she has all that wisdom and also the experience of being married. And never imagine that she doesn't love you. The woman writes little sonnets to you when you aren't around." I was staring at Janice as she said this, and noticed her smiling. I turned back to Tina, who giggled. "They're good too. She loves you so much." "Is that what this is about?" I asked. Tina smiled and shook her head. "Not exactly. We know you get busy. It's funny, but many of the concubines probably know more about what's going on than Jack does. We exchange information with the other households, and we all know that you are trying to keep everything running. Yes, Yvette is a great lieutenant, and believes in you, and most of the others accept your leadership..." "I hear a 'but' about to come out," I sighed. Janice started to laugh. "It's a good one. We just...as your lovers...well...we want to help you more. You already have us talking to the other concubines, acting as hostesses, and caring for the rabbits, but we want to do more. We want you to be a bit less busy so there is time for daytime fucks. You always remember to love us, and it means so much, but we want to help you. You are our life." I was smiling at this. "I've wanted to get you involved more, but I thought we'd take it slow. Besides, I can't let you do too much. Pregnant ladies need their rest so they give birth to healthy babies." I bestowed kisses on Janice and Tina, holding them close as tears filled my eyes. They still could surprise me with how devoted they were and once again were offering me everything. Tina relaxed into my arms. "But Brittany isn't pregnant yet. Why is that?" she asked. I shrugged. "When she tested, the AI gave her a six-month infertility treatment. She still has about five more months before she can get pregnant unless I take her to the medical bay and have it reversed. But after the trauma of seeing Larry kill her mother, I thought she'd appreciate some time without being pregnant." Janice giggled. "She wants to have your children. She also wants longer hair." I laughed. "She's figured out that I like long hair then. I was hoping to wait until she was sixteen or so to give her cosmetic modifications. You realize she's probably going to be as tall as Bethany if I let her grow up naturally. And I really want it to be natural for her. But I guess we can have the medical bay grow her hair a bit faster. Say, waist length when braided?" Tina started to squirm. "With that coppery red hair! Oh god, that would be so sexy. Do it, master! Oh, I can't wait until you get her under the showers with her hair like that." I reached down between Tina's legs and found her pussy soaking wet. She gasped and then fell into my arms. "Oh god! I guess you knew, but...I'm such a bisexual slut now. I can get so wet just thinking of a threesome with you and any of the others." "Well, you and Janice are here, but I do have that meeting shortly. However..." I mused. "AI, is our hot tub ready to use, and can we use it now?" "Yes," the AI responded. "The colony has enough safe water that filling the hot tub is no longer a concern." Janice squealed in happy surprise. "Oh my! We get to try it out!" I smiled. "Not yet, but after the meeting, I think the three of us can definitely break it in, if you and Tina fill it up." Tina smiled. "Does this mean we finally get bikinis to wear?" I leered. "Nope. I don't think bikinis are going to be right for our little orgy spot, but...I do have an idea." "What?" Janice asked, but just then Bethany arrived back with Tam. They were not alone, and Bethany quickly called out. "Meiko, Brit, can you escort these ladies to the rabbit pod and show them around. We need to talk to James briefly." I could hear my younger concubines' agreement, so after whispering to Tina and Janice to keep the opening of the hot tub quiet, but make sure it was filling, I stepped out to greet Tamara and Bethany. I nearly laughed when I looked up: Tamara was dressed in a blue and white dress and looked remarkably like Alice in Wonderland. Bethany was just behind her and winked at me as I mimed pulling out a watch. "Oh my ears and whiskers! I'm late!" I cried out and then made as if to dash past Tamara, only to stop and sweep Bethany off her feet. Tamara looked confused for a moment, but then realized the appearance of the dress she was wearing and giggled as I gave Bethany a passionate kiss. "Oh James! No teasing. I like this dress," Tamara said. I slowly stood back up and pulled Bethany back to her feet, although she leaned on me for a moment. "I do too," I admitted. "I just had to do that. You look so much like Alice. Perhaps we should stage a play, and you can play her." "But who would Tif be then?" Tamara said with a smile. Bethany giggled. "Well, I guess we could give Alice an evil twin sister." I waved to the table. Tamara and I walked over and sat down, but Bethany paused and removed all her clothing before walking over and sitting on my lap, giving me a kiss as she put her arms around my neck. "Bethany, I'm in a meeting, are you sure this is appropriate?" I asked. Tamara giggled as Bethany responded with another kiss. Bethany just looked me in the eyes for a moment. "James," she started. "I know that Tina and Janice already talked to you, but all your concubines want it clear. We love you and need you. We will never let another man touch us and another woman only if you are there and request it. But we won't be ashamed either. You gave us bodies that make men and women desire us, and we revel in it. So since Tamara isn't going to be offended, it's appropriate." I looked over at Tamara, who was blushing. "Offended she isn't, but it's still a bit unfair to the young woman. However, we are here to talk about Eric's concubines and what we can do." Tamara giggled. "That will be easy to decide once you talk to them. They are nice ladies, although Eric was a very bad master. I'm sure you'll see the solution." Bethany was kissing me on the cheek and suddenly whispered in my ear. "Master, I've been bad. We could have brought Lisa and Christine right in, but I had them see the rabbits because I wanted to request something. Don't react, but if I told you I wanted you to take Tamara and me into the bedroom and fuck us silly, could you? The others won't mind, we know that some of the other concubines and sponsors want you." I worked on teasing Bethany's hair as I looked over at Tamara. "I can see a number of solutions right now, but the best one will depend on them. At least we have just about everything ready." Bethany started nibbling in my ear, and I gave a small sigh of pleasure. "Bethany, do you want me to bend you over the table right now," I growled. "Tamara is watching too." Bethany growled herself, "I just want my master to fuck me anyway he wants. I belong to him." I could see Tamara shift slightly, and Bethany whispered again. "See, she wants it too. I got her to admit that she wants to try a man other than Craig, and you are perfect." I slid Bethany off my lap and stood up. She molded her body to me to accept one last kiss, and then slowly made her way towards the master bedroom. As she did, Tamara's eyes followed her, and she did not notice as I walked around the table to stand next to her. "Bethany has a heavenly tasting pussy," I whispered in Tamara's ear. "Do you want to join us in the bedroom for a taste?" Tamara turned towards me in shock, but I just placed a chaste kiss on her lips and started to follow Bethany into the master bedroom. A moment later, Tamara burst from the chair and dashed up to throw her arms around Bethany as she entered the bedroom. Clothing soon littered the floor as I joined my concubine and the 'younger' woman in a short but passionate fucking. We exited about an hour later. Tamara was brushing out her dress as my other four concubines filed out of the game room. Behind them, I could hear the console running, and I guessed they had been entertaining Eric's concubines. I prepared myself for hostile looks, but all four ladies were smiling, and Brittany ran up to me. "You did it! I knew you'd show her what a wonderful lover you are," she said as she hugged me. Bethany smiled. "Oh, he did that and then some," she said with a smirk as I looked around, wondering what was happening. Tamara blushed and looked down before looking up at me. "Sorry," she said. "I admitted to them that I wondered what sex with you was like because they were always glowing whenever they were around you. Craig is exciting, but I had no idea what it should be like." I glared at my ladies, especially Janice and Meiko, who were virgins when they accepted my hand. "I'm not sure where some got the idea I was that good," I muttered, only to spoil my glare with a wink. Tina giggled. "Silly, I've told them all about bad sex. You know I was a slut even before I became your slut." "And I thought you five were all I needed. I can't give you enough, why are you throwing another woman my way. Even one as lovely and sweet as Tamara?" I asked. Bethany laughed. "Because you love her. You have a heart that is just too large, James. It's not as strong as your love for Tina, Jan, Meiko, Brit or me, but love for her is there too. And, she wanted it." Tamara gave me a kiss. "I won't tell, and I know it might never happen again, but I did love it. And next time that I drag Craig and Jillian into bed, I'll know tricks to make Jillian melt."I never really knew what to do to bring her pleasure," she blushed again as all my ladies laughed. "You did rather well in there," Bethany said. "Just relax and you'll find you know exactly where to put your tongue." I just smiled. "Well, we understand then. Tamara, it was very special, and my ladies are right, I do love you, but I can't rob them or your concubines by turning this into more than a wonderful memory. Meanwhile, ladies, I think I'll have to come up with some punishment later for not talking to me first." I turned to look at them, hearing an "eep" of fear out of Brittany. Tina just stared back. "So if we talk to you first, perhaps we can make something like this happen again?" she chirped. "Cheeky. That's what you are," I mock muttered. "Meanwhile, we are supposed to be seeing about Eric's concubines. Since I hear the games running, I'm guessing they are in there. Are they ready?" Meiko nodded, but it was Janice who spoke. "They are, but they are scared." I nodded and gave Tamara a slight bow, indicating she should lead the walk into the game room. She smiled and strode in, followed by my concubines who stood in a row against the wall as I stepped through.	null	Chapter 21 - Recovering and Healing	Authors/Thinkers_tales/The_Swarm/Allan_Joyal/A Peril at Ishtar 21.txt
73,337	Allan Joyal	A Peril at Ishtar 9	Yvette was wearing a light and flowing dress that looked more appropriate for wearing on a summer day rather than in some climate-controlled ship, but I was not going to say anything. I was more interested in the motley assortment of humanity accompanying her. Philippe was the first to enter the door after her. He was dressed, if you can call it that, in a loincloth and nothing more. He still seemed a bit unhappy, but it was clear that Yvette was continuing to support his inclusion in her harem. The next two to enter were surprisingly similar in looks. Esther and Marie were both in their mid-twenties and had short and curly hair. The only noticeable difference at first was that Esther's hair was a dirty blond, while Marie's was a dark brunette. They both had been given the short shifts I remembered from the first day, but did not seem upset about the lack of clothing, even when Tina greeted them in her miniskirt. The last adult was a young man, who I guessed was Nathan. He was big and relatively brawny, but his face and expression screamed that he was a bit of an uneducated bumpkin; an impression he only reinforced when he whistled at Bethany upon arriving. Yvette was not much more generous with his clothing as he had on a pair of cyclist shorts which looked almost molded to his skin. As he walked in, five children tumbled into the room, engaged in some version of tag. As soon as the door closed, they looked around and separated. The youngest, who looked to be about four, immediately ran and hid behind Esther, while one of the boys took Marie's hand. The other three ran over to Philippe and started demanding his attention. "I'm sorry about the kids. But I wanted everyone to have a chance to get out, and with things the way they are..." Yvette began. I held a hand up. "Say no more. I talked with Sergeant Powell last night after our run-in with Larry. I don't blame you for wanting to avoid the resident apemen." Yvette laughed. "The term fits so well, doesn't it?" She smiled at the blond woman with her and then nodded over to Philippe. "Permission to speak freely here is granted." Tina burst out laughing as she heard that, which startled the children. However, the girl near Philippe looked at her and smiled. "Why are you dressed? Are you like mommy?" she asked Tina. Tina knelt down to look at the girl. "No, I'm actually like your father, but my master likes to see me in clothing. However, how about we get you and the others a game to play?" The word "game" instantly galvanized the children, and they all rushed around Tina, who looked somewhat overwhelmed by the response until Bethany rescued her and led the children into the game room. A moment later, music could be heard, and it was clear that Bethany was setting up the console for the kids. Philippe paused for a moment, but then offered a bow to Yvette and followed the children into the game room. Yvette smiled as he went. "He's becoming so good with the children," she said lovingly. "Well, what brings you here?" I asked. "Although a social call is nice, occasionally." Yvette laughed and then sat in one of the chairs at the table we normally used for meals. "Part was just needing to get out of the pod for a short time. With five children needing to be entertained, it's hard to get a moment to relax. The rest was hoping that a moment with you might bring a change of pace. I do love my harem, but I'm afraid I did not select them for the mental challenges they give me." I smiled as Meiko came up to hug me. "Well, it is nice to have you, but we haven't had time to prepare much for guests. Unless you want to try a few hands of bridge while the children enjoy the games." Marie looked a little lost as she scanned the room. "I thought you had the rabbits?" she asked. I nodded as I saw Nathan follow the path Philippe had taken into the other room. "It was my idea, but they are in a different pod for the trip. That pod will land next to this one once we reach Ishtar." "Oh," Marie said in disappointment. I shook my head. "I'll try to bring a couple over to Yvette's pod in a day or two, to pet. Right now, Brenda is trying to breed as many of them as possible, so that we have a good base of babies to start with. Rabbits are apparently the only animal that humans have taken from Earth, and I haven't had time to really look into how this will work." Yvette laughed. "We have a few too many adults for bridge, and I'm not sure anyone knows it. Anything else?" I chuckled and led her into the game room where we found the children enjoying a tag-team wrestling contest on the console. The two boys who were clearly brothers were taking on their sister, along with the other boy, as the youngest girl tried to follow the figures around the screen. Philippe and Nathan were providing mostly bad advice and laughing. Bethany smiled and asked what we should do. I remembered one of my more unusual games that had made it into the boxes and immediately suggested it. Soon, we had all ten adults sitting around a table, commanding hordes of killer rabbits as we fought to be the last to claim carrots, hoping we would get the winning one. The game had taken a bit of time to explain, but soon everyone was having fun. The only bad sign was discovering just how illiterate Tina really was. She could recognize some words, but only a few, and finally, everyone agreed to dissolve her spot and allow her to sit on my lap, and play my position, as I whispered the words from the cards into her ears. The knowing smiles I received from Bethany and Janice when Tina squirmed only seemed to add to everyone's amusement. We did have a great time. Yvette proved to be surprisingly cutthroat throughout the game, regularly directing attacks on everyone, but saving her strongest attacks for Philippe and Nathan. But the game ended when Esther swooped in to grab the last and winning carrot. The game had lasted several hours, and both Nathan and Philippe were more than a little buzzed from the alcohol I had allowed them to consume. My ladies all kept to juices, as did Esther and Marie. Yvette had a couple of glasses of wine, but had switched to water later in the game and was still relatively sober. Of course, the children had long since grown bored of their games and had actually spent some time watching us play, with Marie and Esther happily hosting their children in their laps. Because of how long the game had lasted, Yvette suggested that it was time to head out after we finished. Everyone agreed that it had been great fun, and I received a cheer from the children when I suggested that we might do it again in the future. I could see Philippe blush as he admitted that the idea of a game room had not occurred to him. Yvette's family took their time getting ready to leave, and I noticed several quiet conversations between my ladies and her concubines as I put the game away. As I did, Yvette walked over to me. "I know you don't want to stand out, but we are going to need a leader, and I think that right now you are the best choice," she told me. "Why not you?" I asked. Yvette actually sighed and looked down. "Because I don't have any ideas. I can't see the patterns you already have. I was an office manager. The person who accepted the orders from above and made sure they got carried out. I guess if I had the right personality, I'd be a decent sergeant, but I don't know how to lead. Look at my harem. Nathan and Marie would vanish instantly if they had the chance." I looked over at her concubines, who were waiting by the door. Philippe had his usual look of sullen love and awe, and the clear love in Esther's eyes was unmistakable, while Nathan and Marie kept their eyes down on the floor. Finally, I shrugged. "I don't really care to lead, but if that's what I have to do to protect my ladies, I will. I've already started looking into setting up where the pods end up. The AI has agreed to drop our pods to the west of the colony center, and to have only one passage between our cluster of pods and the center itself." Yvette laughed. "See, you just went out and did something. I bet you have an idea for the rabbit pod and yours as well." "I do," I admitted. "Although I don't have much more." Yvette just shook her head. "And you asked about the empty pods. Want to bet that no one else has?" The AI immediately responded. "Volunteer Bernard Russell from the front of the ship has asked, but issued no orders about the empties. There have been no other queries." Yvette just smiled as I shrugged. "Very well, call me the leader if you must. I'm just going to protect and love my family." Meiko chose that moment to walk up and plant a kiss on my lips as Yvette laughed and walked to the door. "And you do it very well," she said as the door opened to let her family out. With a quick glance down the hall to verify that it was empty, the gang proceeded to exit, thundering off towards Yvette's pod.Silence descended on my pod for a moment as the door slid closed and Janice flopped into a chair. "That was fun," she said with a sigh. "We need to do that more often." "It felt a bit like an invasion," Bethany replied. "But I agree, it was fun, especially the game. I'd never seen a game like that before." I smiled, but then had a thought. "AI, say I wanted a pod converted into a kind of recreation hall. Say, six bowling lanes, three or four console game setups, enough tables and chairs for forty people and a small bar, can that be done?" "A recreation hall?" Janice asked. Bethany laughed. "It makes sense. All that we did here, we could do there, and as it's not in someone's pod, it becomes neutral territory." "But bowling?" Tina said. I noticed she was looking down as if ashamed, but figured the question needed to be answered first. "It's the only indoor sport that doesn't need a high ceiling or lots of space," I replied. "Volleyball or basketball would be better, but you'd need a pod set up with a high ceiling. I was guessing that there is a limit to the size a pod can expand." At this point, the AI finally responded. "Calculations are complete. A pod can be reformed to the size you indicate, but for safety, the changes would need to occur once the pod is on Ishtar. Due to power requirements, it would be about seven days to have it ready for use." There was a general cheer, but I walked over and put my arm around Tina. "What's wrong, my love?" I asked. Tina turned into my chest and sobbed. "I'm so dumb. I couldn't even play the game with you." I held Tina close and ran my fingers through her hair. "You did play with us. You sat on my lap and played very well," I whispered to her. "But I couldn't read the cards," Tina moaned. Bethany came and joined me in hugging Tina. "We promised you we'd fix that," she said. "And we will." I relaxed my grip, and Bethany gathered Tina in. She smiled at me and then glanced over at the replicators. I caught the gesture and called out, "AI, please allow Bethany to obtain any reading material she needs in order to improve Tina's skills." Tina looked up, and I gave her a gentle kiss as Janice walked over to join us. "You'll learn. I promise," I said as Janice also hugged her. Bethany pulled Tina back towards the game room and smiled. "I'll get her started today. You should probably sneak a little studying in," she told me. I watched Bethany, Tina, and Janice walk into the other room. Meiko gave me a shy smile and then kissed me. "Go," she said. "Just leave me some paper and I'll see about drawing up some changes to our home." I laughed as I obtained the requested paper and pencils from the AI, and then entered one of the empty chambers on the floor where I found the sleep-training cylinder the ship had created. After a short introductory lesson from the AI, I set it to give me a one-hour primer on Marine military equipment and started the process. Sleep learning, I quickly discovered, has advantages and disadvantages. It's nice because the system can pack a lot of information in the time available, and what I expected to be a simple introduction proved to be an in-depth study of the Marine Battle Armor and its abilities. Unfortunately, it also seemed to last forever, as you lose any sense of time, and I woke up feeling more tired than I had when I laid down in the device. I did take a moment to find out what the recommended classes as well as the available classes were, and set up a program where I would spend three hours per day in training. Most was going to be weapons and simulation training, but I set up a generous selection of hand-to-hand martial arts. I also checked on training for concubines and obtained permission to have all my ladies undertake some martial arts training, in order to help better protect them from any of the monsters they might encounter. The main room was quiet, so I checked in the game room to find Tina slowly trying to fight her way through some early reader texts with the support of Janice and Bethany. Meiko was not there, so I climbed the stairs quietly and found her lying in the open area at the top, looking at rooms and making notes on the pad I had the replicators create for her. Meiko had her feet facing the stairs, and in her innocence, her legs had spread, giving me a clear view up her short skirt to the thong panties that failed to cover her ass. I realized she had not heard me come up and decided to be devilish, slipping my shorts and briefs off and then quietly stalking up behind her to gently place my hands high on her thighs. My fingers quickly found her pussy under the panties as Meiko stiffened for a moment. I feared she might scream or cry out, but just as quickly, she relaxed and reached down to pull her panties aside as she rose up on her knees. She used her hand to bat mine away, and it took little time to realize she wanted more than a finger. I used my hands to pull her panties down, and she quietly assisted me in removing them before rising back to her knees. As she did, I got in position behind her and slid my cock into her pussy. What followed had to be the quietest sex I had ever had. At first, I worried that Meiko was not enjoying the experience because, unlike the other ladies, she said nothing as I drove my cock deep inside her, the only indication that I was fucking her being her short, fast breaths that kept time with my thrusts. I suddenly realized that she was the only one of my ladies who never was very vocal during sex and closed my eyes to concentrate on enjoying our joining. Meiko might not have been vocal, but her body definitely started to respond, because I could sense as her pussy began to spasm and clench. I let go at that point, feeding my seed into her and then holding my cock deep inside her as she slumped down to the floor. She lay still for about three minutes, breathing quietly before pushing herself off of me and turning to kiss me. "Thank you," she said quietly. "I should thank you," I said with a blush. Meiko shook her head. "I came first. Women aren't supposed to cum first." I held her close. "My wives are supposed to cum first, last and always," I said as I held her. "Although I have to admit I'm surprised you didn't fight me." Meiko actually laughed. "The door can only open if you let it, and the others would have called out. Besides, I have wanted you to take me like that." I joined in the laughter and kissed Meiko one more time. I looked down at the work she had done, and was impressed. The ground floor mostly remained the same, but she wanted to see if a hot tub could be added next to the large shower. At my raised eyebrow, she admitted that one of her classmates in high school had bragged that hot tub sex was the best, and she wanted to try it. The upstairs had the most changes. Meiko was suggesting that the individual bedrooms be shrunk down for sleeping only, while several new rooms were added for teaching and play areas. She even had a designated rabbit room, with space for several rabbits. It looked like a well-thought-out and considered design. Just as I was about to speak, the AI called out. "Just feed the design into a converter and I will analyze it." I shook my head at the AI and its ability to anticipate some requests, but I also followed the instructions. Meiko and I waited in silence as she picked up her panties and slipped them into the waistband of her skirt before throwing my shorts at me and telling me to get dressed. We were about to head back to the bottom floor when the AI spoke. "This design is possible. The only concern would be the hot tub. Due to the shipboard water capacity being limited, it would not be usable until after planetfall, when the colony water supply can be linked in." I laughed and kissed Meiko. "I guess we wait until planetfall to use it then. But otherwise, that's the design we want." My reward was a return hug from Meiko and then a journey down the stairs where we found Tina crying into Janice's chest. Bethany saw us and smiled. "It's ok. Tina just found out that she can read, but just needs practice and confidence. It's mostly tears of relief." "Just don't make my girls cry!" I said while wagging my finger at Janice. "Or I'll make you lick their pussies until they scream for you to stop." Janice giggled. "Maybe I should then, Tina has the sweetest nectar hidden between her legs." Tina stopped crying and pushed away from Janice, looking at each of us. I could see the looks that Bethany and Janice returned, and knew that the same look of love, trust and devotion was on Meiko's face and mine at that moment. Tina tried to hold herself together but collapsed into my arms with a cry of joy. "What, you still don't understand how much we love you?" I asked as I stroked her hair. I got a devilish grin and smiled over to Bethany. "AI, can you provide a French maid outfit for Tina. No panties though, and make sure the skirt is just barely decent." Bethany smiled as Meiko and Janice came forward to strip Tina naked. She fought a little, but the smiles on everyone's face confused her, and she sat quietly as that clothing was carefully folded and put on the table. Bethany came over and handed her the tight-fitting top and skirt, helping Tina struggle with the closures and lace as Janice found the hair ribbon and used it to decorate Tina's ponytail. When she finished, we all stepped away. Meiko gasped as we looked on Tina. The earlier hologram had not done justice to just how sexy and sensual Tina would look once dressed in the costume, and Meiko was merely putting a voice to my own thoughts as I tried to bring my jaw back up from the floor. Tina turned around nervously as I sighed in wonder. "Okay, this has to be a reward in the future."Tina just looks so damn good," I said with a growl. "Then why don't you take her against the wall?" Bethany said with a smirk. Janice giggled and quickly walked behind Tina, giving her a shove to thrust her into my arms. "Do it, master, she needs it bad!" Tina looked up at me surprised as I brought her lips to mine for a kiss. I could feel hands working to remove my shorts, but they were not Tina's, which hovered in the air near my face in shock. Once my shorts were off, I spun Tina and myself around and got her to face the wall, as my cock began to tease her pussy. "Damn, that's hot," Janice moaned. I looked over to find that Bethany had already pushed Meiko down on the couch and was eagerly using her tongue on the younger lady's pussy. I took that as my cue and thrust deep inside Tina, who screamed out an orgasm the instant that my cock entered her. "Fuck! James, how do you do it? I feel so fucking good. Oh, master! Fuck me like this forever," she cried as I started to pound into her pussy. I thought Janice might join us, but she joined Meiko and Bethany on the couch as for the next several minutes I thrust hard into Tina, finally cumming with a loud groan. Tina had come at least three times and slid bonelessly to the floor as I relaxed and allowed my cock to slip from her pussy. I leaned back against the table and groaned. "I need more vitamins." Bethany laughed and looked up, her clothing in disarray. "How about we all have dinner," she suggested. The idea was universally approved, although all the ladies took a moment in the master bedroom to place their outfits in their wardrobes for cleaning, coming to dinner naked. I could see Bethany give Tina a bit of a surprised glance when she came out without panties on. "Won't you leak?" Tina just smiled. "I like the feeling of the love James and I have dripping down my legs. It reminds me of just how much love I have, for all of you!" Janice seemed puzzled. "For all of us? But you only said James?" Tina laughed. "For all of you. Without all of you, I could not feel so loved and supported. Besides, I love how you taste too, Blondie!" "God, not that! Any name but that," Janice replied before sticking her tongue out at Tina. Bethany and Meiko both joined in the laughter. It was Bethany who asked the next question. "So what are all you thinking?" I sighed. "According to the AI, I have fifty-nine more hours of sleep training to be proficient in the main tasks ahead of us. I've found another forty hours of recommended courses. At two hours per day, we'll be almost to Ishtar before I have all the courses complete. I did find a few for you ladies. Basic martial arts classes the AI says you can take." Meiko whispered, "I tried karate. Sensei said I wasn't aggressive enough." I could see Bethany about to speak and raised my hand. "These aren't classes for aggressive behaviors. They teach how to break free from an attacker and run away. I thought you might like them considering the lower life forms that are hitching a ride with us to Ishtar." Janice laughed. "Good idea, although I think the furry ones might resent the comparison." Tina appeared a bit unhappy. "What will we do while you are in the sleep training cylinder?" she asked. "Practice reading and writing?" Bethany asked with a laugh. "You really showed a lot of promise today. Give Janice and me six weeks and you'll read just fine." "Why not let me use the sleep-trainer?" Tina asked. I shrugged. "The sleep training system is mostly images. Without the benefit of actually writing and sounding out words, you struggle to learn. It's actually faster to learn reading outside the training cylinders." "You can also learn to play bridge, and I need some ideas for goods we can trade for in the future. Ishtar is going to be at the end of the line, but if we get some orders out, we should be able to interest any navy ships knowing they will come our way into carrying small quantities of items. Especially as we will be the only place to get rabbits for a while, and I'm sure they will be very popular on the other planets," I said. Janice seemed worried. "But we have so few to start, what about inbreeding?" I laughed. "One of the computers we grabbed has a special program just to track rabbit breeding. I'll show you how to use it, and we'll be able to enter enough information to get started. Brenda has a list of the names of the parents of every rabbit in the pod, except for her two old pet bunnies, which are not going to be bred. We just need to enter them." Bethany laughed. "You like to be prepared," she said.	null	Chapter 9 - A Visit from Yvette	Authors/Thinkers_tales/The_Swarm/Allan_Joyal/a Peril at Ishtar 9.txt
74,541	Serenity Delicioso	The Crop Pt Two	Your hand never loosening its grip in long red locks, you drag me across the room to the bed, pulling me on top of it. I lay back upon the coverlet, deep blues dark with the need that has reached immeasurable heights. Without thought or command, long legs part widely, and arms extend outward from my sides. You stand over me, looking to see all that is yours; all that you control. My breath ragged, tongue tip tracing over my lips, still tasting you, a soft purr escapes. Seeing you as you move to the side of the bed, surveying the toys left for your use, those selected by you, the only ones that are allowed. Your hand reaches first for the plug, a gleam within your penetrating gaze as you watch my reaction. Seeing naught but excitement building, pleased, you chuckle. Running it along lips swollen by the feel of your cock, my tongue automatically extends, licking along the tip, trying vainly to suckle upon it. The smile upon your lips deepens, pleased with how far I have come in my training from the first time that you had used me. Allowing but a moment, you sink it into my mouth, pulling it away to the soft whimper. You trail the plug along creamy flesh, pressing the hardness in small circles around my breasts. I yearn to arch up to it, but remain motionless as you have taught your pet. Wondering if you can feel the trembling within my belly as the toy continues slowly to my center... A soft moan escapes as the plug parts the lust-swollen nether lips, wetting the tip with my own juices, you continue watching my every reaction. My soft voice reaches up to you, "please, Sir, please will you fuck your pet with it, please?" You look pleased by the request and without hesitation, drive it deep into my tight rim, stretching it around the toy. A low whimper is pulled from me as I am so forcefully entered. Soon your slow in and out motions begin to race my heart once more, you can see the flush upon me. So lost in the movements of the toy, I do not see you reach for the ice. The first realization is when my mouth parts longing to suckle, eyes open wide in the shock of it, even as you begin to roll it around taut nipples. Knowing where the previous taunts have traveled, a suppressed whimper almost escapes... Your hand guiding it, followed by another, deep into the heat of me...a shudder rushes through with the shock of it... the movement of the plug never lessening... pulled almost completely from me, before plunging back in... my hips rising and lowering to meet it, subconsciously. Just as I am almost adjusted to the cold shock, beginning to warm once more... You are suddenly above me. The full length of you poised to enter. I hold my breath in anticipation for a moment, before the ache reaches its peak, and my soft voice pleads for mercy, pleads for use. "please, Sir, please use your pet... please" You know that this is only the beginning to the begging that you can make me do... the pleading and driving ache that you can create as you withhold that which your pet craves... the desire to bring you pleasure... You tease the head of your shaft along the cleft between engorged lips, feeling the wetness of desire coating the skin... You hold back the look of satisfaction, as my begging continues... "please, Sir, please, please Sir, please allow her to give you pleasure, please, Sir... please please use her Sir" Knowing that my cries are in earnest, seeing the look upon delicate features, you bury your hardened cock to the hilt, stretching me around it... feeling the shock of the cold in the inferno of wetness that surrounds you. Silken flesh grasping and holding to you, feeling complete by the joining. Slowly you begin moving, setting a rhythm to suit you... the sound of flesh meeting flesh thrilling to my ears. The tightness of me further enhanced by the plug that is still firmly wedged within me... Your hands reach down, pulling long legs higher, resting knees upon your shoulders. Bringing me to form a small ball under you. Driving harder now... the depth of you dizzying... heartbeat racing out of control. You look to the firmness of my breasts, I reach my hands inward, holding them close together, in offering up to you. Your mouth parting as teeth nip at the hardened nipples... pulling upon them... it is almost too much to bear... "please, Sir, please... please may I cum for you, Sir?" You look to me... saying, softly, with that deep commanding tone, "no, my pet... not until I do... only then will I allow it" Biting upon lower lip, held motionless by my position... fully helpless to all that you demand... as you continue to drive deeply... taking all that there is of me... my hold upon desire reaching all limits... Feeling that tenseness reach through you... a low growl, menacing and lustful, as your own desire reaches its pinnacle... 'now, pet... cum with me, for me... NOW!' my cries reverberating about the small room, body lost to your command and control... still for this moment, one... As the rush of releases consumes and abates, you pull from within me. A simple push at the back of your pet's neck, and I slither lower upon the bed, mouth parting anxiously. Soft tongue darts out, lapping at the length of your cock, tasting the mingled flavors upon you. Mouth caressing as it cleans traces of me from your flesh... lowering further, warm mouth massaging your sack, rolling it tenderly as juices are suckled.... Smiling up to you as a gentle tug upon auburn locks indicates your pleasure with my attentions. Crawling back up to you, feeling the welcome weight of you, lie upon me, as you unfold my legs. Nestling against your strong chest... feeling the security of your arms, the fullness of you a memory feeling of you still deep within. Our breathing slows... heartbeats returning to normal rhythm...sleep overcoming...	null	null	Authors/Serenity_Delicioso/Gor-inspired Stories/TheCropPtTwo.txt
74,800	Jason Logan	Brideprice	Your head hums with a dull roar of pain as you blearily open your eyes, seeing only gray and brown, then closing your eyes against the sudden light. You try to shut out the room you see revealed as the curtain over the window above your bed is pulled back, and you wake to the ache of a dull medicated sleep. Only to feel your chin gripped in a strong hand and a chiding voice telling you to "open your eyes so the gents could see them." You feel the weight of the gazes of several men, standing in the shadows where the sun cannot reach them, their forms vaguely large and rough, clothes not those of any department store you have ever been to. Your arms are tied to your waist, the rope running around your wrists and stomach tied out of reach of your hands at your back. Your legs are tied loosely to the bottom of the bed (a hospital bed). Suddenly, you look to the voice and hand that grips you, only to see the mean face of the man who gave you a shot just moments ago in your new doctor's office (who was that nurse at your regular OB/GYN's office?). The mean-faced, hard, wiry man calls out to the shapes, "All you loyal men will see that she is healthy, young enough, and in less than a month's time fertile. We checked her records well, and rest assured she is highly sexually responsive, notice the responsiveness." You try to call out and demand to know what is happening to you, but his hands stuff your mouth with the edge of the sheet that had covered you during your sleep, and he goes between your legs, teasing you till your hips move in response against your will but still moving, his hand opening you and exposing your hidden places, his other hand probing inside and caressing your softness. Then, holding his wet fingers up for the men to see, he gestures to someone behind the men. A man steps through them and into the light, a man who held you down on that radically odd exam table in the strange-looking doctor's office your gynecologist supposedly referred you to. This man who held you helpless on the table while the hard-faced man drugged you is naked from the waist down, his body tight and corded. The man beside you assures the men quickly, "Don't worry, men. John here is benefitting from a vasectomy I gave him years ago. He will show you just how responsive she truly is." "And remember, she is yours for the paltry bride price of 10,000 dollars." The large, corded man climbs onto the bed beside your corded thighs, anxious and tense in your denial at what is happening here to you. Swiftly adjusting the height and angle of the mattress, without preliminary, he moves between your legs to push his mule-like cock between your cringing inner thighs, his head having trouble at first, then slamming in. The mean-faced man leans over you, saying, "Would you rather he demonstrated your ass with that donkey dick of his? No, no, no," you shake your head, your eyes big. "If you don't want that, I would suggest you control yourself and endure, or even enjoy. None of the men to buy you is nearly as large, well, almost none." You feel the large man above you push in till his cock fills you, still outside you but into your inner walls, then it begins. Lucky for you, the mean-faced man stirred you a bit. This brute spares no time for niceties like preparing you, slamming his cock into you quickly now. He works his prick in your shocked and shattered body, filling and pulling from you, dragging you inside out again and again. Now your ankles being untied and pulled back towards your chest, tied to a side rail of the bed high so your hips are up enough for his cock to sink to the balls in your narrow, beaten cunny. You feel your body juicing around him as your traitor body feels only that it is being fucked and filled. Your senses warring as you are violated hard and fast, your body overcomes your mind and coming quick and fast, drawing his prickless cum into your pussy. Then just as quickly as he entered you, he pulls out, walking away only to return with a douche and pan to wash him from you while the men in the shadows begin to bid for you, making rude remarks about breaking in your bottom for their use. Untying your ankles, the large man who just serviced you like a stallion does a mare lifts you to your feet, pulling your hair back from your face and showing the men your still-toned body as the bidding slows and stops at double the asking-price; the winner, a cold-eyed man with a nice lump in his pants steps forward to bend you over his leg, he still standing. As you look over your shoulder at him, begging him to help you, to get you out of this horrible nightmare, he silently takes a cane from his belt, cutting three strokes on the inside of your thigh and three on the outside of your hip, marking you as his with vicious red welts, and dragging your naked form after him to the door of the room you were in. You stumble over the ground through what seems to be a town, towards a large house surrounded by a high fence. Grass beneath your feet cushions your stumbling, but he drags you still, your arms still tied to your sides. You enter the yard of the house, walking on paving stones around the side of the house and through a door at the back of the house, stairs leading down instead of up to the first floor. Then down a narrow, ill-lit hallway you stagger beside him, stopping finally in a small room with only a mattress on the floor, padding on the walls, and a cage and dome over the only light. The man, not too cruelly, mutters to you, "This is where all my new wives spend their first day, or week, your choice. If you need to spend more than a week here, you will come to regret it. Only then would I use this cane again. I don't want to mark my wife more than is decent and proper, but I will if needs be." You open your mouth to plead, protest, or argue, but shut it at the implacable glance in his eyes. Walking you to the mattress, he pushes you down to it, lifting a cuff from the floor and locking it around your right ankle, leaning forward with a knife in his hands to cut free the ropes around your wrists. You move your ankle, noting the thick steel and sturdy bolt in the floor it is attached to. The man walks to the door, then turns to you. His eyes smiling not very reasonably, "My first wives will be here to prepare you for tonight. Obey them, and no marks will fall on you. Resist them, and it is no telling what they will do. And in case you have not reckoned your new life and your lot in it, you are here to serve me, to bear my children and keep my house. That is why you are here. The doctor said you would breed good sons and daughters. Be sure you find a way to live to bear them for me." With that, he dims the room's only light and shuts the door, silence weighing on you heavily. You worry over the cuff for minutes, hours, maybe longer. Suddenly, the door to the room creaks open, and a young man, perhaps a few days shy of grown, walks forward to you. You look to his face and realize there will be no help here. Reaching you, he grabs your shoulders, dragging you to your knees, pushing your face against his pants and ordering you silent. His clenched teeth bespeak an anger ill-concealed. "As oldest, I was due a wife, but Pa wanted yet one more. Well, I mean to have your services too. If you talk, I will have my mother make your life a living hell. Now, open your mouth or you will regret it right now." Opening his buttoned fly, he drags out what rivals the large man who raped you earlier, the head drooling a bit as he pushes it quickly into your mouth, bouncing off the back of your throat and gagging you as he grabs your ears painfully, his hips flexing his cock back and forth over your tongue, brutally invading your mouth. He orders through his angrily pursed lips, "Don't just kneel there, suck it, woman." His eyes still angry as he pushes his cock over your teeth, he stills and waits for your tongue and mouth to move on him, to cuddle him with your tender lips and pretty pink tongue like you know he wants you to. With some bit of trepidation, and a lot of fear, you move your mouth slowly at first, then your lips tighten around his huge cock, licking up and down his shaft, suckling him as if he were some perverted pacifier, mouthing his head. His fingers moving down to grab your nipples, he twists them as you cradle his penis with your face, looking up at him with begging, frightened eyes. The door moving open even as he groans, the light coming to full strength as he grips your head again, the pungent scent of him strong as his cum flows straight down your throat. A chiding voice telling him, "Jess, so very rude to do that on her bride's night." Then a feminine hand ruffles his hair as he stays buried in your mouth, his hands suggesting you continue to suck him till he is clean. "But, Mom, you know she was to have been mine." "Jess, you don't want your first to be an older woman. Your Pa will get you a nice young fallen cheerleader or some such."The hand of his mother goes to your chin, a head appearing over his shoulder. "Be sure to get every drop from him, he mustn't go back until he is clean, clean nearly as you will be before we are through." Then the hand lightly cradles this man/boy's testicles and tucks them back inside his pants, pulling him slowly from your mouth to inspect your work, then pushing the slowly shrinking elephantine dick back in his pants. She spanks his backside playfully, sending him from the room whistling and buttoning his pants, obviously in a better mood. Freed from his oppressive masculine energy. You look up to see three women, varying from mid-40s to a couple years older than you. You begin begging with them. "You are women, surely one will help you get free!" The oldest, the cruel man/boy's mother, answers you. Her eyes are sympathetic and yet amused. "You are here. You cannot leave this house without being seen, and not at all at night. If you are lucky, you will never be collared, chained, traded away, or worse. As for right now, I came to bathe you. If you resist, my sister-wives will hold you down. If that doesn't suffice, well then John told you what awaited you." You kick and scream, struggling hard, telling them, begging them to help you. Wailing that nothing could be worse than this. The woman softly and dangerously says to your desperate pleas and denials, "As for worse, how would you like to be doing the same thing as here, but overseas, with your genitals trimmed until you feel no pleasure at all? Hated for your Anglo features and abused by guards and other harem girls." You sob and cry out in defeat and denial as the women move to hold you down, surprisingly strong, and they turn you to your stomach over the mattress, your feet angled off the end, your kicking legs spanked by their tight fingers and hard palms. The three women join in spanking the insides of your thighs and pulling your cheeks apart to spank inside them and over your hidden soft spot, your anus. Feeling the sting of their fingertips there is finally too much for you as they pummel your skin with their open palms and extended fingers, and you beg them to stop, pleading with them now that you will cooperate! An experienced hand soothes your feelings by stroking your inflamed, swollen vulva, their blows compounding the tenderness of your pussy by falling near and across it earlier. The fingers bring your need to the surface quickly, your body arching against the mattress. Her voice chuckles lowly to the other women, one of them saying to her, "She just needs a bit of a 'come' now and again. High-spirits are like that. She would be murder if she were trimmed like you threatened her." Your eyes cross as your body feels her hand bring you off. You go limp under their restraining legs and arms, as they roll you to your back on the mattress, bringing the pan of heated water and the second of lukewarm, bathing the sweat and tiredness from your body, rinsing the stray stains of the boy's semen from your mouth, and rinsing the sweat and dirt from your hair, bathing your tired, sore feet and washing you from a second pan between your legs, starting at the tip of your clitoris and washing back and around to the top of your bottom's crease. Then the three women methodically wet your underarms, legs and pubic area, lathering you with a skin conditioner and bringing out a straight razor to scrape away the stubble and, between your legs, the hair. Finally, pulling your hair on top of your head in an odd braid, they unfold a clean white sheet on the bed, leaving a bottle of oil just out of your reach on the floor. They all stand and leave, first raising their skirts and showing you the scarred welts inside their thighs and on their hips, matching those on yours, the flash of their smooth, hairless crotches oddly reassuring. You wait in the now well-lit room for minutes that stretch on endlessly it seems before you. Finally, the door opens and the man, your new husband (?!?), walks in, leading a troop of girls in with him. They all wear clean white shifts and vary in age from 5 to mid-teens. The man moves to stand near you, pointing to the girls to step forward one by one. Each girl steps forward one after another, telling their names and saying "Welcome, mother," then kissing your cheek and the tops of your breasts, above your nipples, before hugging you and stepping back. Their arms and legs are smooth, their skin and bodies clean and healthy. You notice that the older girls have hair beneath their arms and on the legs that poke from beneath their shifts, the sight registering with your subconscious in some way. In turn they each move forward and back. They smile at you and then, catching sight of the bottle of oil on the floor, grimace in sympathy at you. The oldest of the girls moves to cover your body with a sheet where you sit, then the troop goes out the door, to be replaced minutes later by a troop of boys, from toddler age to the man-boy whose cock you recently coaxed into your mouth. These boys repeat the introducing themselves, even the toddler, though his "Welcome, mother" is a bit garbled. Their kiss is not on the cheek and breasts, but on your lips and strangely enough on the tips of your toes. Then smiling, the boys move towards the door, some even leering as they notice the bottle of oil on the floor, then troop into the hallway, the oldest giving you a knowing grin as he leaves and shuts the door behind him. The man walks quickly to you, yanking the sheet from your breasts. He kneels beside you and shoves your legs open, stuffing the head of a butt plug (yes, that) into the depths of your vagina, fastening it there with a strap arrangement he locks around your waist and thighs. You look at him and ask him again, why you? Not receiving any answer, your pussy stuffed full with this surprise, you cringe as he pushes you to your knees on the mattress, leaving you sitting on your heels as he quickly strips to the buff. Finally, pulling his pants off his legs, he looks at your wide eyes, saying, "Because I wanted you, and I can have you all to me. So why not?" Screaming, "But I already have a life!!", your body tries to force the plug out, but the twin problem of the plug being narrower at the base, plus fastened to the leather strap which is pressing the base into you tightly, you do nothing but strain around it, cramping your strained cunt. The man looks over at you as he slips his pants over his hard lower legs, saying only, "Yes, you do. You have this life. Get used to it." His eyes turn cold as he looks steadily at you. He leans forward, his cock angry and hard already, pushing the head towards your mouth. "Now why don't you give me a taste of what you so freely gave my son? The wetter you get it, the better your bottom will take it," the man orders harshly, his teeth clenched and a wicked glint in his gaze. Even as thick as the man-boy was, this cock is thicker still, roped with veins and pulsing. Fearing him, you open your mouth quickly, accepting and anxious. Grabbing your ear by the edge, he pulls your head to look to his eyes. "Suck it. Now!!!!" Your mouth opens wider, licking your lips, curling them around the thick head. His fingers go to your nipples, fingernails nipping into the rim of the areolae. His cockhead is soft and spongy on your tongue, the weight of him heavy and aching in your tender cheeks. His hands rub your cheeks softly as he murmurs, "See, you don't have to make this so very hard on yourself." Even as your eyes change from fear to rebellion at these biting words, your mouth waters around the bulk pushing against the top of your throat, you coat him with a slick sheen of your spit. Seeing your eyes change, he pops his cock free of your throat. He smiles cruelly and says coldly, "I guess the oil will just sit right there then." Your eyes get very scared now, widening as he quickly pushes you to your elbows, his hand hard in the small of your back, curving your hips up and bowing your back as your shoulders fall to the mattress. His knees push yours beneath your body as he holds your hips arched out towards him. You feel his weight bearing down on you, your legs spread open, the air hitting your exposed anus and washing over your strap-bound pussy. As he is pushing the unbelievably big (to your bottom it is at least) head of his cock against your anus, you feel the coating of spit you gave him drying against your sphincter, then shock rushes through you as he shoves forward into you, splitting you wide around him. The terrifying feel of him ripping your bottom wide open as he rapes your untried ass makes huge gulping sobs break from your throat, a scream lodged behind them and unable to push past the sobs that shake your body, the tears rolling in rivers from your eyes. The huge cock works deeper into your dry ass until finally you manage to rip through the shock and force a scream out! When your senses clear, you feel him sliding in and out of your rectum, stretching and making you feel as if you are being rude at the same time, the sensation doubly embarrassing as he hammers into you, your body shaking and shivering with the hurt and tumbled end over end as he punishes your tortured sphincter with his sliding dry cock, his hips quickly burying his cock deep in your tight--too-tight ass. His body finally convulses against your back and legs, jetting a huge wad of semen into your bowels, gushing up and coating the ravaged lining of your gut. You feel the final thrust HARD inside you, his weight leaving it there inside you, his orgasm twitching his hips, with each pulse, pushing in more of his blistering semen, grinding it in to you.To your regret, his big prick stays rock hard as it slides through your gut, and he moves on to ream your body, more and more threading his cock through the tightest hole you ever had to offer anyone. His prick seems almost bigger now than before. His prick's moving in you is eased a bit by his cum's lubing it, and he saws his long, thick prick into you over and over, slipping a little deeper and making your back arch. The sensations of your pussy moving around the plug in you as he shafts your bottom overwhelm the pain for a moment, flashing you to a quick, horrid orgasm. Then another jumps through your defenses, and another, until your body shakes beneath him in orgasm after orgasm. Your body starts to spasm, jerk, and tighten your ass around his driving penis, finally drawing him fully into you with your body's motions. The ring of muscle at your bottom hole clutches him as he withdraws, his head plopping out, dripping with cum. His body and yours are coated with a sheen of lust sweat, sliding down the cheeks of your ass. His cock is still swollen and angry, but signaling a final act of contrition for you, he lifts your body and presents the blood-streaked head to your lips, ordering you to "draw another load of cum from me, young wife, so I can mark my claim on two of your holes this night." You close your eyes and hang your head. Pressing the bulk of his glans between your lips, he forces you to swallow the whole of his well-seasoned cock, flavored with your own ass. His fingers are beneath your chin, his cock in your mouth, your juices and scent on him. The tastes of you there send an odd thrill through you. Your tongue starts flicking up and down his shaft, cleaning him gingerly with your tongue, resisting the thought of what you are doing. Your eyes widen as his cock lurches to an even fuller erection in your mouth, and his hips push it over your lips and into your throat as if he were working in your bottom again. Your body shaking and aching, what keeps on flitting through your mind is how you can lessen the pain of your existence here and still enjoy the orgasms he brought to you so easily. These thoughts on your mind, you choke in surprise as his penis swells in your mouth, spilling his seed in your mouth - thicker, richer, more man-smelling than the dose of semen his eldest son forced over your tongue. It clots your throat as it cascades past your teeth, spilling out over your lips and down your chin. Your body collapses forward against his legs, while you wearily nurse the last drops of lust inspired by your ravaged self from his body. Suddenly, your hands move to catch the escaping drops and feed them into your mouth, needing now to swallow all of him, knowing if somehow you cannot find your way free, forced to stay here, it won't be yours alone to enjoy. Your only power here is at the mercy of chance and whim. Strangely, you feel a certain jealousy at the notion, and knowing now you cannot imagine a way not to be here, since you don't even know where "here" is, much less how to resist or escape this room or this life as he called it. You don't know why he sealed your pussy closed with a plug while he ravished your ass and mouth - you only know deep in your soul just one thing: that this night, this life, has just begun.	null	null	Authors/Jason_Logan/brideprice.txt
74,802	Jason Logan	A Hangover to Beat Your Worst Ever	You wish for a light to ease the darkness as you come back into the room you woke in. Your head still spins from whatever was given to you while you snoozed in bed last night. You shiver a bit as you feel the breeze from the door opening and closing rush over your body, naked and tied to the bed. The breeze feels strange on your body, and the light suddenly blazes into your eyes. You see me - the man who hit on you in the bar last night and suddenly disappeared on you right before you were supposed to go home. "You are with me, for as long as I want that is where you are. And me, I am only to be known to you as Yes. We will be going on a little journey together, one where you will learn to be my servant," I say, smiling at your indignant howling. I stuff the panties I took from your body earlier into your mouth and tie them in with the little top you were wearing while you slept. Then my hands go to my back pocket, and in addition to a pan of water by the bed, you see in my hands a pair of blunt-nosed barber's scissors and a disposable razor as well. You cringe as I place a pillow under your bottom, raising your hips and pushing out your pubic mound, exposing your pussy and pubic hair to the light. Smiling as you whine, I snip away the longer hair, leaving stubble behind. "Do you really want to writhe around like that when I use the razor as well?" I ask. Filling my hand with lotion, I coat your formerly hair-covered cunny, then slowly, so slowly, shave your mound clean, leaving you as nude below your waist as you were as a child. Pulling the hair on your head into a ponytail, tying it back with a rubber band, you see me stand closer to you and slowly undress, dropping black jeans and shirt to reveal me standing in nothing at all - naked, not too horrid, and blatantly erect. I move swiftly to cover your body with mine and push between your legs, forcing my knees between yours now, pushing my naked cock into your defenseless vagina with one hard shove, filling you as I seat myself to the hilt in you, pushing to rest against the back of your pussy. Sliding back into you quickly after pulling back slowly, I begin moving inside you in a rhythm that leaves you little time to breathe, my weight holding you to the bed while my body invades yours. Reaching between us to massage your clitty, forcing the pleasure into you as I do my cock, I fasten my mouth on your nipple and suckle them to stiffer points, biting softly down on your breasts as I punish with my hardness in the softest place of a woman. Rubbing my hands over your body, caressing you even as I take you, branding you with my touch inside while I touch you softly outside. Feeling your body slowly moving back against me as I push harder into your willing but defiant body, enjoying the response of your softer side to my rougher treatment of you, knowing your total surrender will only come with your acceptance of me in your orgasm. Riding faster in your sweet silent body, feeling your breath whistling from your body as I push into you, massaging your clitty as I take your resistance and use it against you, I strip the top and panties from your mouth and cover it now with my own mouth, kissing you hard at first until your mouth opens under mine in response, then softer as we touch tongues. I reach behind and grab the ponytail I made in your hair, arching your head back on your neck and leaving you still and vulnerable, my kisses nibbling at your neck and below your ear, then fastening over your mouth once again, punishing your resistance with my kisses, gentling you again. Feeling your body opening around me slowly, your pussy milking on my cock now as your sensual nature betrays you, slicking the shaft of my cock with your desire even while I ravish you, I feel the hard bud of your clitoris under my fingers as your nipples scrape under my heaving chest. Your legs strain your hips up to meet mine in the limited space you have to move, my hand driving you towards your orgasm. Reaching beneath you, I push my hand that was massaging your clit into the tight bud of your anus, invading your bottom as you work around me, your inner muscles working against your resolve. Feeling your body bucking now up to me, away from the fingers in your bottom, towards the cock in your body, teaching you that resistance is futile, there will be only response, I drive fast into your pussy, feeling your body rage against itself. Feeling your bottom clutching in desperation around my fingers, writhing away even as your pussy betrays your need for the pain with further convulsions and moistening, I know you will cum for me. Now, you will open your thighs and welcome me inside, anywhere I want to take you. You are mine. You feel me making you mine as I ride inside your tender body, stretching you with my horridly stubborn erection, raping your defenseless body, but giving you pleasure. Feeling your orgasm, I give you the final indignity, shuddering as well as I arch my body, seating the head of my cock against the mouth of your womb, pulsing the jets of my cum deep into you, gushing it into your body and spurting it nearly to your throat, making you oh so aware that if I keep you here and come inside you again and again like this, I will surely foster a child inside you. You can only hope I will tire of you and release you before that happens. Being my slave and breeding children for me would be even more humiliating than submitting to me in the bed of your captivity, shuddering at the touch of a man who would do this to you, knowing you will do so at every turn - stripped, shaved, and used for his pleasure. You feel small and weak even as I bathe the sweat from your body with a warm cloth, still couched inside you, sealing my seed into your with the plug of my cock, forcing your body to absorb it even with the tremors of your orgasm ebbing in you. Untying one of your hands only to tie it next to the other, but on the other side of the first, crossing your hands and leaving room for them to turn over now, I slide, slipping out after endless minutes in you, feeling you shudder as I leave you and untying your legs, rolling you to your stomach and tying your legs down again, farther apart and higher on the bed, tying them off to the sides of the bedframe. Massaging your bottom as I raise your hips, pushing pillow after pillow under your belly, you feel the cool drizzle of something slick in the crease of your bottom cheeks, running down between them to be caught by my fingers at your bottom's vulnerable entry, massaged slowly into the tensing iris. Leaning over, I murmur, "This is the truest lesson in submission you could ever be taught. Only by giving of yourself and accepting do you gain ease and comfort this way. Rebellion and defiance cause you the pain you fear. Submission and compliance ease your way and bring you pleasure unimaginable, the sensations pulsing through you to fill every inch of your body. If you fight me with your stubbornness, you will make yourself hurt. If you yield and welcome me, you will be rewarded with orgasm after orgasm. I want you to learn. It is in your best interests to cooperate, but you don't have to. If you tense and try to force me out, it only makes for a tighter ride." Holding your bottom open, spreading your cheeks with one hand while the second pushes at the sides of your anus, forcing the iris to spiral open, you feel me pressing inwards. You focus on opening, the same kind of opening as when you... With luck, I will slip right inside with little stretching. Then you concentrate on what is happening to you, being fucked, not on where you are being fucked. You feel the head of my cock against your ass now, pressing at the sphincter. "Take me there now," I say, and you feel me sliding inside you, stretching the ring of muscle as I push in to you, driving through the muscles guarding your ass, slipping on inside you, filling you as you writhe under me. You feel me taking you in one slow stroke, lasting a full minute as I push in until my stomach rests against your bottom and your body swells around me, your throat tight as you feel me spiking into your guts, then lurching in your insides as you feel my hardness sliding out, making you squirm as your senses confuse and blur. Your body is strangely excited by the feeling, the blending of senses used for other purposes with those for sexual stirring something hidden in you, making your body rocket towards an orgasm immediately. Feeling strangely better as I slam back into you, knowing this wondrous feeling will happen every time I slide in to you, you worm back onto me as I fuck all the way inside you. Holding your hips in one hand and reaching forward to grab your ponytail with the other, I hold you as I push into your violated body, taking you again and again, slamming fast into you only to draw out slowly.That relentless sliding sensation overwhelming you and making you cry out "Yes, yes, yes" - what I told you to call me burning in your brain as you call it out in your passion. Overcoming your defenses one by one, your will crumpling as I take you, making you mine and branding you my own. I am simply slamming into you and pulling out, but feeling to you as if I have written on your skin with a branding iron, but more than that - making you feel so very warm and welcomed, and sending you through the roof as I send the rush of my seed into you, marking you in the final act of a lesson of submission, coming into your bottom in pulses of need.	null	null	Authors/Jason_Logan/Hungover.txt
75,353	The Ketch Story Guy	A Post on the "1 Hour a Night" Forum	You know me, but I'm posting anonymously. If you're on here, I guess I don't need to explain why we have to sedate our daughter at 8 every night, or why we sit and watch her for the next hour. I'm sure this post will be deleted as soon as it goes up. (Then again, no one ever seems to mod this place anymore, so who knows.) I just want to know if we're the only ones. For our family, it started when Sierra was 7. She was diagnosed at 8. They did the test and set us up with the meds. The nightly "reset" started. Sierra began to sleep again. The violent, shrieking psycho disappeared, and we got our bright, grinning little soccer star back. I should probably mention that Sarah and I (see what I did there?) used to be kind of into doing it at inappropriate times and places - pub bathrooms, midnight trains, the office after work... That all quieted down after Sierra came along, but you never quite lose the thrill, you know? Needless to say, things between Sarah and I came way back from the brink as Sierra got better. An hour every night between 8 and 9 where at least one of us has to be in the room watching her sleep shouldn't be a temptation, but it is. Sarah and I couldn't keep our hands off each other. Which is where the trouble started. Most parents can't wait to have the house to themselves for a night. We always kind of liked that Sierra was just in the next room. That she might discover us. Not actively, it was just, suddenly whispering, "What if Sierra wanted a glass of water right now?" into Sarah's ear as she came on my dick doggie-style, our door open a crack. I think you can see where this is heading. It's not like we did it in Sierra's room immediately when she started the meds. You watch her like a hawk the first few weeks! You watch her long past the one-hour limit, when she comes out of her little mini-coma and starts sleeping like normal. We went at least two months, thank you very much. And then it was mostly doing it standing over behind the desk, with Sierra's head turned away. It really got going last winter. There was a span when Sarah and I were both on rough schedules. She had business travel. I was doing a launch. We could barely get one of us home for Sierra's "down" hour every night. It got so we hadn't had any time together for like two weeks. For my part, I was home alone and restless, sitting in the chair next to Sierra's bed. She was maybe 15 minutes into the hour. I had a lot of work to do, and this would be my only downtime that night as well. Sierra had refused a bedtime story like usual, which is weird seeing as how much she reads on her own. I started browsing on my Kindle. I got looking at pics. I started getting in the mood. The notion of just pulling it out and jerking off right next to my daughter sounded so wrong, and yet so... safe. She couldn't wake up. No one else was home. No one would ever know. Like I said about old habits. I got up and closed the door (just for my own sanity) fired my Kindle back up, unzipped, and, you know... After a minute, I stood up and pulled my trousers down, aware of how silly I would look if anyone were to somehow apparate in and find me. I found a girl with long brown hair, hazel eyes and an odd little crinkly-nosed smile. A girl who looked a lot like Sierra. Her heavy hair fell in a wavy aura around her head as she lay on her back on a wharf at sunset, touching herself. Sierra lay beside me on her back, her own thick hair radiating everywhere. Sierra was then 9. I wondered if she touched herself yet. I felt my breath deepen. The girl started to look desperate, rubbing her bare opening and playing with her lips as I advanced through the gallery. The setting sun picked out the hair on her arm. I switched the Kindle to my other hand and ran my knuckles up and down the soft hairs on my daughter's arm. I liked this. I set the Kindle on the bed, propped against Sierra's pillow. She slept soundly beside it, her mouth open, a 19-year-old version of her 9-year-old self on the screen straining to manipulate herself to orgasm. I began to fancy it was a time portal. I imagined Sierra on some deserted lakeshore straining to bring herself off for her daddy. And mommy. Yes, watch me fuck Mommy as I drink that beautiful body of yours in, Sierra. Come over here. Let Mommy and Daddy touch you. Let us make you feel good. Let's all feel so good, just the three of us, no one else will ever know... The girl pulled on her hair. I twisted my fingers into Sierra's hair, stroked her cheek and her small nose. I was about to come, sitting in the bedside chair, turned toward my daughter, touching her face and hair. Her hand lay beside her shoulder at the edge of the bed. I angled myself downward and rubbed the tip of my dick against it. Her skin felt so soft. Her palm was warm. I was so close. I picked up her hand, wrapped her fingers around the crown of my dick, and jerked myself off with it. Seconds later, I came, spewing cum onto our hands and wrists. It dripped onto the bedsheet and rug. As you might (or might not) guess, I suddenly felt utterly, unimaginably awful. Why shutting the Kindle off was the first thing I did, I can't guess, but you know how your mind is at those times. Sierra had a box of tissues on her nightstand. I grabbed a bunch and tried to contain the damage. I wiped my own hand and cleaned her hand thoroughly. My cum had dripped into the rug, but that wasn't too noticeable. The sheet, though, no matter how many tissues I used, there was still a clear damp spot. I pulled my trousers up, settled myself in them, and sat down again. Still 25 minutes to go. So I sat there. And the world didn't end. The room was warm. All of her things were there as before. The picture of all three of us sat beside the box of tissues on her nightstand, the smiles as big as ever. I felt... okay. I rubbed Sierra's shiny, meandering hair with the hand I'd come on. The wet spot on the bed grew less and less noticeable. Everything seemed fine. I felt a little strange when I crossed paths with Sarah at 10 PM. I went back into the office for a little while. She was asleep, and I was too exhausted to think when I got home again at 2 AM. I didn't have a chance to repeat my little stunt over the next couple days. Sarah watched her Thursday and Friday. When the weekend hit, Sarah and I took Sierra to her aunt's, and found a day of kids running around shouting fairly relaxing in comparison to the work week. We said good night at 7 and were home in time for 8. Sierra got her nightshirt on, poured herself a glass of water, bounced into bed and popped her meds out of the pack. She made a kissy face and squirted me with water square in the eye. One of the cousins must have taught her that. Sarah started to scold her, but I broke down laughing. Sierra fell asleep with a smile on her face. She was such a naughty little angel. I started reaching over, pinching, tickling, getting fresh with Sarah. She didn't go for it. In fact, she started to get anxious, staring at Sierra. "She's out," I reminded her. It turned out that wasn't what was bothering Sarah. Here's basically how our conversation went: "Don't. Not- please." "Come on..." I pinched through the back of her sweater, unhooking her bra. "Sean, not here. I don't want-" "Be a sport. I haven't seen you all week." I licked her fat nipple through the sweater. She jumped back. "Sean, seriously. I'll fuck you later. I'll give you a blowjob. Just not here." I stopped. Something was wrong. My stomach dropped. I looked over at Sierra. Did Sarah know? Of course, she had gone in to see Sierra Wednesday night. There would have been cummy tissues in the trash. Had the rug dried? Was the bed still damp? Kids drool all the time - it could have been drool, right? Did it smell like cum? Crap. What did I miss? "Thursday..." Sarah said. Thursday? What trace could have been left Thursday? "I... Can we talk in the hall?" "No. What's the matter with you?" "Thursday..." "Right..." "I-" Sarah blushed. She sat down, assiduously not looking at Sierra sleeping on the bed. "I... hadn't had any fun for a bit. And, um... Well, she was down, and I had some time alone, and..." "So far I'm liking this story." "Oh Sean, stop it. I... I got playing with myself." "Still liking it." "...Here, in the room. I got... Sean, just stop looking at me. I took my clothes off and was having a good jolly." "I wish you were doing that now." "No, Sean. I was sitting right there on the bed with her." "Bold. Sexy." "And..." "And...?" "I licked her." She sat there, looking at her shoes. Neither of us said a word for a moment. "What, like on the face?" "No. Sean." "Not-" "No! Well, not... I didn't go down on her, but...""But what?" I went and sat in the bedside chair, forcing Sarah to look at Sierra and me. "It was a muggy Thursday. What was she wearing?" Sarah kept her eyes low. "Not much. Her big tee. Knickers." She buried her eyes in her hand. "The crocodile ones." "Where did you lick her?" "Sean, I don't feel good about this." "Where?" "Her... shirt was riding up. Her stomach. I started there. Then I... kissed her face. And her neck. I nuzzled her under my chin, and felt her all warm against me, and really went to town on myself." "Then what?" "I... spread her legs apart. God, Sean, stop getting turned on about this, please." "Why? Aren't you turned on?" "Yes. But that's not good!" "I'll tell you a story in a minute." Sarah looked me in the eye, seeing some strong hint. She started breathing harder, her expression growing a touch frantic. "What story?" "Finish first." "I... straddled her, and moved down the bed. She's just so beautiful in her sleep! I moved down, and pushed her legs apart. I started licking up... from her knee... up around her thigh..." She trailed off. "Then what?" "I came. I bit her. I didn't mean to. Just a little nip inside her thigh but I was so afraid she'd notice the mark Friday, or you would... Oh god Sean. I got so carried away." "And after you came?" "I felt awful! I got scared. I'd never... done that before. Not with Sierra. I haven't goofed around with another girl since college. Never mind MY baby. But that's not the point! Crap, Sean, tell me your story." So I did. She sat hungrily listening, watching us both with her hands clamped between her legs. "God Sean, with her hand?" "I felt awful afterward." She nodded. "Me too." We were both silent for a moment. "Fuck, take me, Sean. I'm so turned on right now." I dashed over and picked her right up off the chair, ripping her sweater off, kissing her, biting her nipples. We got each other half naked. In a few moments, I had her on her knees on Sierra's rug, plowing her from behind, clawing handfuls of her breasts. She got her hands on the edge of the bed steadying herself. Pretty soon, our eyes were glued to Sierra's peaceful sleeping form. "The older... Sierra," Sarah panted, "was she pretty?" "Of course," I said. "How much time do we have left?" I glanced at the clock. "20 minutes." "That doesn't mean... we HAVE 20 minutes," Sarah reminded me. "Is it true -"you don't remember things -"at first- when you wake up-sedated?" "I have no idea." Sarah shook her head to get her wits about her. She started to play with Sierra's hair. "You're so pretty, baby. You'll be so beautiful." She crawled up the rug and I followed her. "The boys will want to do this to you. Just like mommy. You see what daddy's doing to mommy?" Her belly rested against the bed. I slammed her hips against the side, making it shake and tap against the wall. Sarah laid her head on Sierra's chest, holding her, both of them swaying in rhythm to my efforts. I steadied myself with a hand on Sarah's shoulder and buried my other hand in Sierra's lively hair, feeling her small head in my palm. "Oh god, daddy's going to make mommy cum...! Daddy's making me cum, baby! Daddy's making me cum!" She squeezed her daughter hard in her arms and shook, letting go with a long moan. I was so wrapped up in Sierra I didn't even slow down until I felt Sarah's hand on my hip, silently asking me to gentle. I eased off, giving it to her slowly, but staying deep. Sarah pulled at Sierra's tee shirt, balling it in her fists. Sierra's little white stomach appeared above sea blue knickers. Sarah started to kiss her belly, running her tongue in and around Sierra's small bellybutton. "My baby... My baby..." Sarah purred. She pulled the tee shirt over Sierra's head. I sped up involuntarily. How hadn't I noticed? Sierra's breasts were hardly bumps, but there they were, just getting started. Her nipples... Sarah started to rub one between her thumb and finger. They both grew hard. Little dark gumdrops. She'd have her mommy's nice big nipples. Oh god was I turned on. We were now lying astride the bed, Sarah half on top of Sierra. Our little girl's neck and chest were flushed blotchy but she slumbered on. Sarah reached out with her tongue and began to play with Sierra's nipple. She pursed her lips around it and sucked. I knocked her mouth off, I was so horny at the sight. She grabbed Sierra around the chest and returned to sucking on the nipple, harder now. She withdrew for a moment, punctuating her words with little licks: "Oh baby girl... Look at you... Mommy loves you... and your pretty little nipples... I'll bet Daddy wants... to try one." I leaned into Sierra's chest, smelling sweat and the familiar scent of her skin. I touched her warm soft skin. My lips closed around her nipple as Sarah sucked on the other. I felt the bumpy tip of it against my tongue. I came into Sarah. It hit me by surprise. I lost Sierra's nipple, panting. Something in me spasmed in time. I hadn't cum like this since I was younger. Sarah moaned at the feel of my cum spurting into her, sucking harder. I saw her teeth flash as she bit. Sierra jerked. We jumped back in shock. Sierra failing to stir again, after a short while our orgasms filtered back into our brains. We rested together, on our knees, on the floor beside the bed. "As soon as you fall out I'm going to drip all over the floor," warned Sarah. She put her hand under herself and helped my softening cock out. Standing, a little wobbly, she held the cum inside her. She switched hands. Looking at me with a wicked grin, she put the hand to her face and licked. I smiled. Sarah sat on the bed, still grinning. She touched Sierra's mouth with her cum-damp fingers, wiping her fingers gently inside Sierra's lips. Did any go in? Would Sierra taste me? My jaw was on the floor. Sarah bent down and kissed Sierra on the mouth. Close to the hour mark, Sarah returned from the bathroom with a robe tied on. I'd dressed again. Sierra rolled and resettled and smacked her lips, but didn't fully wake until morning. Sarah and I slept like babies that night, but we were confused about what had happened. Anxiously watching a ten-year-old for any sign of that something is wrong is pretty much the most surefire way to make her think something is wrong. Finally, she just asked. "Mom. Dad. What is the MATTER?" "Nothing's the matter, sweety." "Yes it is! You two have been weird since we went to Paige's house." Paige is her cousin. "I'm sorry, sweety..." Sarah said, casting about. There is a time you think you'll never lie to your kids, and that's before you have them. "Daddy and I were just so busy the past couple of weeks. We feel like we never got time with you. We were afraid you were mad." She glanced imperceptibly at me. I was impressed. "Is THAT all? Mom, you're so weird." Sarah chuckled. "I guess so, sweety. It's just nice to see you." She rubbed her forehead against Sierra's. "To get to see my babygirl." They grinned at one another. "I'm glad you're not mad, Sierra. I hate how work gets sometimes," I said. "WhatEVER..." Sierra threw herself backwards onto my lap. I made a face down at her and the whole thing devolved into a tickle orgy (the... normal kind). We were less stressed after that. It didn't become an every night thing, and we didn't go that far again for quite a while, but cuddling Sierra while we fooled around became part of our play. It stayed that way until late spring, when we got a scare. We'd driven down to Sarah's mother's house for the long weekend before Sierra's birthday. If anyone can get Sarah riled up it's her mother. She talks to Sierra like she's still six, buys her posh (ugly) outfits and takes her out like a show pony to impress her friends at places like the ladies club and the hair salon. And Sierra eats it up, that's the annoying thing. For a weekend at a time, we wind up possessed of this weird Peyton Place character who looks an awful lot like our daughter, one who sits beside her grandmother's pool in a hat, rather than spending the entire day swimming in it. Sarah herself has had to put up with a lifetime of backhanded compliments and tight-lipped judgements, but Sierra's transformation is what burns me up. Well, that and the fact she puts us up on the creakiest pull-out sofa bed you've EVER heard... lest anything untoward should happen in view of her creepy china dolls. Saturday of that weekend, Sarah's mom was away at her Ladies Against Sufferage meeting, or whatever it was. Sierra was telling us about all the WONDERFUL things grand'm'ma and she had done. We might have given her her meds a little before 8 that night. We both stripped naked hastily. "How much time do we have?" "She's only been down for five minutes." "No, before your mother gets home!" "I don't know. Fast, fast." So we tried to go fast, but we aren't 20 anymore, and we were both listening hard for the car in the driveway. On the hill terraces, every car creeping by sounds the same. "Let's play with Sierra," I said. "Are you crazy?" "Yes." Sarah looked at me, turned and peeled the covers off Sierra. She lay down beside her, kissing her gently, rubbing her chest through her nightdress. Both of them looked beautiful together. I got rock hard watching. "You're mommy's girl, aren't you? Not grandma's. You'll always love mommy more. Mommy and daddy are so good to you," she purred. Sarah rolled Sierra onto her back and pulled her nightdress up over her head, leaving her only in little yellow knickers. "Mommy doesn't put you in awful dresses and bows. Mommy knows you're not delicate.She lets you play sports with the boys and get muddy outside. Mommy shows you everything daddy can do. Mommy lets you play with daddy. I sat down and started rubbing their legs, so long and smooth. Sierra's were thin but tan and toned, scraped up here and there from running around on the field. I reached up and slid her underwear off her. "This was your room, wasn't it?" I said. "Yes," said Sarah, holding Sierra's face in her hands and kissing her lips, "but mom changed all the decor." "Did you ever fuck on this bed?" "No. I tried to." "What happened?" "I got caught. Mommy'll never ground you for fucking. But you won't bring any mean boys home to piss off mommy. Mommy and daddy will take care of you. I won't make you feel bad for your cute little pussy." She rolled onto her back, rolling Sierra onto hers. "I'd lay here at night..." She started frigging her pussy, making a nice wet sound. "...touching myself, just like this." She reached over with her other hand and started rubbing Sierra's pussy in time with her own. "Just like you, Sierra. Like you touch yourself, don't you?" This was exciting. Sierra's pussy was usually sort of off limits. Sarah closed her eyes. "I'd lay here, and I'd think about a nice big cock. A nice big fat cock. On a big strong man. Fucking me. Pushing my little lips apart. Oh so wide." She peeled Sierra's pussy lips apart, showing me the bright pink inside. "Going in so... deep." Jaw twitching, I knelt on the bed and rammed my cock into Sarah. She cried out, her hand moving out of the way, grabbing at my neck with slippery fingers. I shook the bed, grinding into her. "Don't cum in my pussy, Sean," she said. I nodded. Sarah continued to rub Sierra between her legs. I slid Sierra's head over toward Sarah's. We all kissed. Well, Sarah and I kissed each other and Sierra. Sarah and Sierra rocked under me. I grabbed Sierra's chest and found her nipple hard, standing out tall as her mother fingered her. "Oh baby you're growing up so fast," I murmured. I knew I couldn't take my time. I gave it to Sarah as hard as I could. "Tell me when you're close. Tell me when you're close," Sarah repeated. "Why?" "I want you to cum in her mouth." "What!?" I almost lost it in Sarah. "Cum in her mouth. If she can eat sorbet and caviar and crème at mom's awful places, she'll eat what mommy says. I want to see. Please? Please, I'll lick it all out. Don't you want to feel it? Don't you want to?" I started to nod, and the door closed downstairs. Shit! We rolled off. There were footsteps on the stairs. Sarah yanked the night dress roughly down Sierra's little frame. I grabbed my trousers (belt buckle making a terrible noise!) and started to yank them on. Sarah rolled the covers back over Sierra. Sarah was still naked! I was still almost naked. As the heels approached the door, I spotted Sierra's little yellow panties lying at the foot of the bed. I stuffed them into my pocket, still bent double as Sarah's mother opened the door. She froze. "Whoops!" Sarah said, covering herself. "Caught us changing into our swimsuits, mom." "Well- I- That HARDLY seems appropriate!" Sarah's mother stammered. "Oh mom, Sierra's out until the sedative wears off, you know that." "Yes, but when your... tasked with watching her-" "Mom? I'm naked." She backed out and closed the door. "...you're tasked with watching her," she called from the other side, "I simply can't IMAGINE how you could be so devil-may-care!" It occurred to me that we didn't have our swimsuits. Our bag was in the living room. Sarah motioned me to put my clothes back on. We both dressed quickly while the door continued to lecture us. Sarah turned the knob when we were done. "There, mom. Better?" "It's not swimming in my pool that I mind, Sarah Lily-Ann..." and so forth. Sarah listened, rolling her eyes. 45 minutes later, standing in the shallow end of the pool, Sara's bravado was burned out. "We almost got caught!" she hissed. "Keep your voice down!" I whispered. "This is it. This stops. Right now. We're done." "But..." "Sean, do you know what would happen if we WERE caught? No really, do you?" "Of... Of course." "People walk up and down our road, Sean. We forget one windowshade, we're too noisy, we do it in a STUPID place-" "Shh." "-at a stupid time like tonight," she hissed in my ear, "and then... I don't even want to contemplate that, Sean." "I know. I know." I held her hand under the water. "Does it turn you on though?" "Yes. A lot. When I'm in the mood. Sometimes it does nothing." "Yeah. Same here." "I feel guilty the day after. Always. Always a bit." "Yeah, I get that right after I cum. Would you have really let me cum in her mouth?" "Yeah I got carried away. But we've just, we've got to stop. We've just got to stop." We stood for a while. Eventually, from one of the upstairs windows came: "It is called a 'swimming' pool for a reason, dears. If you're quite finished, go to bed. I have a busy day planned for us tomorrow." Sarah rolled her eyes. "He's making violent love to me, mother!" she called out. I heard an old man guffaw in the next house. A little later I found myself in the bathroom sitting on the toilet waiting for the shower to warm up. Our illicit little games were over and I felt sad. Best to just think of this as a phase that Sierra grew out of, I told myself. I still hadn't cum that night. I started jerking myself off, thinking of Sierra. Her lithe little body. All the things I wanted to do to her, and couldn't. Then I remembered. Her knickers were still in my jeans pocket. She'd wake up in the morning and they'd be missing. I'd have to get them back on her somehow. My jeans were still in the hamper. Thank god Sarah's mom hadn't done laundry that night. Miss prim would never have put something in the wash without first turning out the pockets, and then... My stomach turned over again as I fished the bright yellow underpants out. We'd almost been caught again. God they were small. Barely larger than my hand. Not just yellow--they had little stars on them. I reached back down with my other hand and started jerking myself off again. I wrapped them around my dick, imagining they were still on her. I imagined rubbing the shaft of my dick up and down her pussy lips through the leg opening in her cute little panties. I jerked hard. Pretty soon I came in them. Knees weak, I slumped back on the toilet. The cum pooled in the fabric. Oh god, I'd cum in them! I wiped as much off as I could, but the crotch and one side were soaked. I set them on the doorknob so they'd dry or so I wouldn't forget and showered quickly. I realized I hadn't brought any clean clothes into the bathroom with me. I wrapped a towel around me, wadded the panties up small in my fist and snuck out into the hallway. The din of Sarah's mom snoring upstairs comforted me. Gently turning the knob, I opened Sierra's door and slipped into the room. The streetlight slatted across her through the venetian blinds. She snoozed comfortably, contorted to an angle, twitching. I thought I could get away with this. If she woke up I'd just have been checking on her. Why, she'd wonder, wasn't she wearing panties anymore? Would she notice? Do girls notice that? Trying to slide them back up under her night shirt seemed impossible, but if they were in the bed with her maybe she'd assume she'd slipped them off. Her memory could be spotty at night. Why would they be wet? I'd just have to chance it. She'd never suspect the real truth. Sierra slept on with the sheet pushed halfway off, her nightdress ridden up, one knee thrown over to the side. Kneeling down, I carefully lifted the sheet and set her panties between her knees. The towel slipped off me as I carefully replaced the sheet. At the sound, her eyes opened sleepily. "Goodnight, sweetheart," I said, kissing her forehead, naked. She mumbled something, turned and went back to sleep. I picked up the towel and crept out of the room again. Two things happened Sunday morning. "Sierra told me a funny story in the bathroom just now," said Sarah quietly over coffee. "She sat down to pee, and I noticed she wasn't wearing any knickers. What happened to them?" "I snuck them back into the bed with her late last night." "Well, she's decided she doesn't like sleeping in them anymore, so she takes them off when we're out of the room." "Does she really?" "No, Sean. She woke up without them, didn't know why, and figured she must have taken them off herself. She really doesn't remember much on the meds at night. We lucked out. Imagine if she'd walked in here with my mom in the room and said, 'Hey, anyone know why I woke up this morning without my Fruit-of-the-Looms on?' What do you think would have happened? God Sean, we've just got to stop it for good." I told her what would have happened if her mom had done laundry while we were in the pool. Neither of us was in a good mood when her mom and Sierra joined us for breakfast. Tuesday would be Sierra's 10th birthday, and Sarah's mother had a gaggle of activities planned for that Sunday. We'd bought (or, added to our plan) a cell phone that Sierra would be allowed to use under strict conditions, but her grandmother seemed to think that wasn't enough. She started agitating about Sierra joining her in her beach house on the Outer Banks for the last week in August. She started outcompeting us. Sierra was getting excited. I blurted out, "I didn't want to give away the surprise until the party next weekend, but I guess I have to before you start making plans. We booked a lake house for that week. It's going to be a family vacation."No one but me saw Sarah's eyes pop open, but anyone could have seen her mother's mouth drop. Pretty soon, I couldn't see anything through a flying, hugging mass of wavy brown hair shouting, "OH-MY-GOD, SO COOL DAD! AAAAUGH!" I spent Monday on the phone trying to locate something that fit the description. Something we could afford. One of the kids in the office fed me a tip about an out-of-the-way place his family had rented the year before. To make a long story short, after a few weeks on a dozen alternate lists, someone cancelled a cabin and we got it for the week in question. Then Sarah lost her job. I thought it would be me, that summer was such a mess. Sarah spent August boxing up the balance of her post-college career and shipping it out to the Colorado office to be filed away forever and forgotten by the new management company. There was talk about cancelling the trip--even Sierra suggested it gloomily--but I insisted on the plan. The lake house was the smallest and least cared for of a row of single-story cottages, with one bedroom (Sarah and I slept in the living room/dining room/kitchen), a tiny bathroom, five minutes at a time of above-freezing shower water, an unreliable refrigerator, squirrels running across the roof, something living underneath the floor, paint older than Sierra, a grill older than me, and stacks upon stacks of mystery novels about horse racing. That is to say, we fell in love immediately. We had a dock, but Sierra preferred the filled sand beach at the end of the point. She'd made a friend by the end of the first day, and asked to go "down" on the porch watching the sun set before being carried in to bed. We'd been good all summer. We hadn't really planned to go any farther than making out on the bed beside Sierra, but it was vacation, and a vacation after a lot of tension, and... Well, the whole thing ended with Sarah on her knees beside the bed, shirt off, pumping my cock with her lips and hand as she frigged herself down her shorts. "Cum on my face! Cum on my face, Sean," she panted. "I want you to make a mess of me." I wrapped my hands around her head and started pushing deep into her throat. She moaned at the loss of control. I eased up before she started choking. She pursed her lips around the head of my dick and licked me inside her mouth. "Here it comes," I moaned, not wanting her to stop. She opened her mouth and watched with crossed eyes as I jerked myself two or three times and spurted across her forehead and hair. The second dollop landed on the bridge of her nose. I let the rest ooze down from the side toward her lips. She lapped what flowed down beside her nose, rubbed some off her eyelid and licked it off her finger. A hand like Sierra's reached in and touched the cum on Sarah's face. Sierra was sitting up, watching us through deep-lidded eyes. She brought her hand back to her mouth and licked her fingertip experimentally. We scrambled to cover ourselves, frantic with half-coherent apologies. Sierra sat drifting in and out, watching us with curiosity but no particular concern. Finally, she mumbled, "I have to go pee." She padded into the other room. We threw clothing on as we heard her going. The clock said we'd gone over--it'd been an hour and twenty minutes. Stupid, stupid, stupid. A flush, and Sierra was back. "Sierra, listen, mommy and daddy-" "Good night," she said dreamily, turning once under her comforter and falling back to sleep. We'd already been up for two hours, sick with worry, when Sierra bounced into the room for breakfast the next morning. We'd practiced our explanation half the night. But Sierra, it seemed, wanted to talk about canoes. She went on and on, bubbling over with ideas about going up the river and picnicking for lunch, then coming back and hanging out with her friend. Finally, Sarah asked, "Honey, do you remember what happened when you woke up last night?" "Hmm? No. What happened?" She noticed our worried expressions, shrinking a bit. After a moment, Sarah said, "You woke up and you didn't know where you were. You seemed upset. So we talked to you for a little bit and you went back to bed." "Oh. Stupid meds." "The stupid meds keep you healthy, sweetie," I said. "But yeah, I slept okay. Did you hear the ducks this morning? So cool!" Canoeing, picnicking--that all sounded fantastic. That afternoon, we met Sanja. "Oh wow. I can't believe they, like, let people rent a place like this. It's so tiny!" she said, stepping inside in her yellow sundress, raven-haired and tanned. "Is there even, like, a BATH?" Sanja was 12. Her parents had the "rustic" duplex on the other side of the point; whether they owned it outright or it was a family place, I was never quite clear. Though a couple years older than Sierra, they were roughly the same size. Sanja had the slight, precise, over-prettiness of a model's child. She was everything Sarah's mother wished Sierra could be: prim, straight-backed and disinterested, with a self-conscious sense of her own attractiveness and a transparently manipulative charm. True to form, Sierra was absolutely hooked, following her around like a starstruck puppy. "This is just a phase, right? This whole try-on-all-your-clothes, girl crush, reason goes out the ear thing. Right?" "We were going to have such a good week. Why. This?" Sarah asked, punctuating her question with vicious stabs at a bag of ice. Down on the dock, Sanja was showing Sierra the "proper" way to dive. No, wrong, criticize, show. No, wrong, criticize, show again... Sierra bent down, and Sanja pushed her off the dock with her foot. Sarah started forward but I caught her. Sierra came up coughing and sputtering while Sanja laughed madly. Shivering as she climbed back onto the dock, Sierra started to smile again, still coughing. Sanja bent over to show Sierra the dive again, and Sierra extended her foot. "Yes! Do it!" I hissed. Sanja caught her and started shouting. "Stand up for yourself, Sierra!" Sarah hissed in my ear. Sierra, by the look of things, began mumbling apologies at her feet. "Fuck. No. She's got you wrapped around her little pinky finger! That tiny bitch." Sanja bent over again. "And you too, by the look of things." "What?" "You like that view? She's a tiny scrap, but she's more than a touch farther along than Sierra, isn't she? 'Oh, hello, sir!' Hands behind the back. Leaning forward in her little sundress to give the big boy a peak. Was she wearing a bra yet?" No, she wasn't, but I didn't see nipple. "Sarah, we can't be helicopter parents." "Fine," she said, turning away. The girls were gone for most of the evening. Sarah and I were starting to get worried by the time Sierra reappeared at 7:30. Sound doesn't get eaten by anything in rooms that lack ceilings. Standing in the kitchen, I could hear Sierra talking to her mom as they brushed their teeth a few feet away: "Mom, what can girls, like, DO together. Like with your friends. I mean what's okay?" "What do you mean, honey?" "Well it's like, you can hug, and you can hang out, and I know it's okay to kiss. You and Aunt Petra do it all the time, like on the lips." Petra--"aunt" Petra--was Sarah's college roommate. "So it must be okay to do that, right? I mean, like, otherwise how would you practice for when you're, you know, kissing and stuff with boys?" I forget what Sarah said. Images of what Sarah and Sanja might have been doing that afternoon ran through my head. I had to adjust myself before joining the girls in the bedroom for Sierra's meds. As her eyelids started to droop, Sarah asked, "Were you practicing making out with Sanja tonight?" Sierra nodded slowly, and then nodded off. "Sierra. Sierra!" Sarah called. Sierra's eyes swam awake again. Sarah grabbed her face and stuck her tongue into Sierra's small mouth. Sierra kissed back vaguely, struggling to breathe through her nose. Sarah released her, licked Sierra's cheek and let her fall back onto the pillow. Sierra passed out again. "What did you do?" I whispered. "She doesn't remember," said Sarah. "Nothing on either side. The hour was arbitrary anyway. It's why she doesn't like us reading to her before bed. She bluffs. She can't remember what we read her the night before." "That... makes sense. By the way, I looked. I totally looked. I didn't see anything, but I looked." "I know you did. Little rich girl wants what's mine..." Sarah rolled over, and then rolled right off the bed. She lay on the floor with her hands in her hair, covering her eyes. "Oh god, are we doing this again? We stopped for a good reason." I took her hands and pulled her back upright. We sat on the bed next to Sierra and watched her sleep. Finally, I leaned in and kissed Sierra, playing with her small, impossibly soft lips. "We're awful parents," Sarah said. "If she knew, I think I'd agree," I said. "Yeah, but... Yeah. It's not quite the same thing." "As far as she knows we're fine." "If we're super careful." "Listen to us," I said, pulling her shirt off and nudged her toward the window. "Super careful." I played with her breasts, unhooking her bra, in full view of anyone who'd happened to still be out on the lake at dusk. She pushed back against my erection. "Leave it open. Just kill the lights," she whispered. I stepped over and clicked the lamp off. It was suddenly dark in the room, but bright outside in the post-sunset blue. I went back to Sarah and unzipped her pants. She let them fall, turned around, putting her arms around my neck, and kissed me. Our tongues played with one another. I held her bare bottom. She removed my jeans and my shirt, reached into my shorts and began gently pumping my cock. She bent, pulled my shorts down and took my cock into her mouth.She sucked me, on her knees, beneath the still view of the lake. "Share," I whispered, helping her up again. We walked back and pulled the covers off Sierra. Her nightdress was getting a little too small, stretching around slim hips that hadn't been there before. I rolled the fabric up off her midsection, bringing her pussy with its faint wisps of hair into view. Sarah lifted the dress the rest of the way off her. Sparks jumped in the dark as Sierra's hair crackled. Sarah kissed Sierra's lips and smoothed her hair back down. Sierra's chest was already more shapely than at the beginning of the summer, each of her growing nipples now on its own soft, gently raised breast. Sarah began to lick her nipples. I began to lick Sierra's belly, and then her beginning pubic hair. "Are you licking her pussy?" Sarah whispered. "Not quite," I said. She sat up. "Let me watch." I moved lower, brought my tongue to her and licked Sierra's slit. She twitched. I licked it again. Again her body jerked under my tongue. Her small pussy lips fell open almost immediately. On the third lick, I could taste her juices running. I took hold of her narrow legs, running my tongue up and down Sierra's opening. "Does mommy want a turn?" I whispered. "No, not yet," said Sarah shakily. I began to hear the slick sound of Sarah rubbing herself off as she watched me and her daughter. Sierra's body continued to twitch. Her hips got warmer and warmer against my face. Her breath deepened. Then, unmistakably, she jerked harder than she had before, her back coming off the bed for an instant. Her juices squirted against my mouth. I grinned. I licked her slowly, feeling her body pant under me like a frightened rabbit. I was so turned on I didn't know what to do. "Oh my god, I want to fuck her," I said. "Me," Sarah said. "Me." She pushed me back onto my feet and positioned herself at the foot of the bed. I took her hips as she adjusted the width of her knees and slammed into her. Sarah cried out, and immediately stifled herself, biting her fist. I slammed again and again, harder. She pulled Sierra out from under her and muffled her mouth with Sierra's pussy, moaning quietly into it. Sierra began panting through her nose again, half at an angle. I reached down, pulling and twisting at Sierra's nipple, then began squeezing and mashing at Sarah's breast with my other hand. Bent over Sarah's back, I felt my balls let go. "Mmm, cumming," I grunted. Sarah lunged forward, popping off me. I was confused for a second, groping in the dark. I started to cum anyway, into the cold empty air. Sierra's bunchy hair slid against my balls. Barely aware of what was happening, I felt Sarah grasp my dick and push it down into Sierra's face. She jerked me gently as I continued to cum, dribbling onto Sierra's mouth and nose. When it was all out, Sarah laid Sierra down beneath me. I looked down. Sarah licked Sierra's face, pushing the cum around with her tongue. Finally, she pushed it all into Sierra's mouth. I watched a drop run from her tongue into the soft space between Sierra's lips. "Swallow, baby. Swallow for daddy," Sarah whispered, stroking her throat. Sierra swallowed, her lips pursed and parted, and she slept on. Sarah kissed Sierra for a while longer. Only when Sierra's eyelids began to stir did we turn her the right way up again, dress her and both kiss her good night. Sierra sat at the table yawning the next morning. As the skillet sizzled in front of me, I heard her quietly ask, "Mom, did you kiss me good night last night?" "Of course, sweetie." "Was it like..." Sarah cocked her head. "Like what?" she tickled Sierra's ribs. Sierra smiled and squirmed. "Nothing." Sarah kept tickling her, catching my eye while Sierra was busy laughing. Sanja came over around 10:00. "I want to stay over tonight," she announced. "Can I?" "Have you... asked your parents?" I said. "Oh, they'll be fine with it." "I'm afraid it'll be a little boring after 8:00." "Dad, can I go down late tonight?" Sierra asked. "Oh, that's fine. I'll 'go down' too," said Sanja. "I want to." "You... what?" "Sierra explained all about her meds. I want to try it too." "That's really not a good idea," said Sarah. "My parents said it's okay." I'm sure your parents say a lot of things, I thought. "These are prescription sedatives..." I began. "Why are you being so difficult?" Sanja stiffened, crossing her tanned arms. "I said my parents said it's okay, didn't I? Oh, you haven't met my parents. You're totally invited over for lunch." "Dad, pleeeeease? Mom?" "We'll talk to your parents about it," I said. "You just have to understand, your... I mean, it's not like just going to sleep." "Right," said Sarah. "You might wake up and not remember when you are. Your memory can get gaps..." "You mean like I'll forget a year?" "No, like you'll forget bedtime." "Oh! Whatever. You had me worried for a sec." "Yes, but we have to stay with you and watch you for an entire hour when you go down. You've got to admit, that's a little weird." "You'll be watching me, Mr. S?" "Yes, I would be..." "Oh that's fine." She leaned forward. "I feel really safe around you." Sarah raised an eyebrow. I didn't even try to look down Sanja's neckline this time. The act was so ham-handed I was stifling a laugh. A couple hours later, "expected" for lunch, we were having a beer while Sanja's dad fired up the grill. I explained the situation with as many medical scare terms as I could. Sanja's mom was intimidatingly pretty, something I didn't think was still possible at my age. Sarah seemed rather less intimidated by her, as she had nothing to say and seemed to defer the slightest decision to her husband. Concern didn't really seem to be in their vocabularies. "No, I don't mind," he said. I explained how the meds were prescribed for Sierra, and Sanja's reaction couldn't really be predicted. At worst she might stop breathing. He shrugged, popping the cooler open. "Yeah, but you watch them, right? Who's ready for another long neck?" "Silvie, where's my long CK shirt?" Sanja called, presumptively packing a bag. Silvie was their 20-year-old Dutch "friend". She hovered in the other room folding laundry, not speaking or making eye contact. Sanja and Sierra disappeared upstairs, whispering and giggling. "As long as you're okay with the risks," Sarah said, "I guess we'll be happy to have her over." He nodded vaguely and sat down. Sanja's dad spent the rest of lunch touchy-touchy flirting with Sarah as I struggled to get more than three words in a row out of the trophy wife. At one point, Sarah asked to have the bathroom pointed out and they were both gone for a few minutes. To show what lightweights we are now, after a few beers Sarah and I were both a bit tipsy on the walk back. "So did he give you his phone number, or did he just stick his tongue down your throat in the upstairs hall?" "Please, Sean. You think I can't handle an old frat boy?" "If you wanted to, I guess." "Sean, I found all three of them singularly unpleasant, though they are kind of fascinating up close. Oh, and he absolutely did give me his phone number." She showed me his business card and flicked it into the lake. "Did you find the mom hotter than the daughter?" "Yes," I admitted. "So you're not turning into a full-on pedo," she said, "good." We were passing a set of cottages. I hushed her. "It's that au pair I was worried about." "What?" "She couldn't take her eyes off you." "She couldn't?" "Well. You were busy with the Princess of Lebanon. What is the appeal? I've got way bigger breasts, an ass, the ability to form sentences. And you know super hot girls just lay there limply like Sierra when you screw them." "I've worked with product models. I know how to keep talking when your brain can't stop saying, 'You have beautiful eyes.'" "That's what you said to me on our first date." "I think you were sucking me off at the time. Still true." She took my hand. "I don't know what we're doing money-wise when we get back. Sierra's school costs... I've got one interview next week, and that still wouldn't bring anything in until October if I got it." I said, "Can't we just be on vacation this week? I think we need it." "Yeah. We always get away with things somehow." "Speaking of which... are we doing anything with Sanja tonight?" "I figured you wanted to." "That's not weird?" She rolled her eyes. "It's tempting. You're not interested?" I asked. "I'm more frustrated with her than... Whatever. We're on vacation." "Let's just play it by ear." "All right." At the cottage, we started fooling around in Sierra's room in the still afternoon heat. I had my cock out and was ready to enter Sarah when we heard Sanja's imperious laughter coming up the beach. Stuffing ourselves away and dragging our shirts back on, Sarah and I reluctantly went out to greet them. Sanja dazzled Sierra all afternoon, and clearly thought she was charming Sarah. ("Mrs. S, I think you look very nice for a woman your age.") She sat beside me playing cards, her thigh sliding against mine. I sensed she was trying to steal a moment with me as the evening wore on. Finally, she caught me out at the grill. "Ooh, what are you making?" she asked, craning in. She wore a wide-necked puffy shirt, slightly transparent. "I thought we'd do rosemary chicken." "Oh wow, I had like the best rosemary pâté chicken at this place in Düsseldorf. Hey, you know Silvie? She helps us out at the house?" She smiled like she had a delicious secret, and whispered conspiratorially: "Dad had sex with her. Do you think she's pretty?"She was leaning over almost 45 degrees, with her hands held behind her back. I couldn't help but glance at her dark pencil eraser nipples and her small breasts. She couldn't have missed it either. "What did you think of her?" "She seemed very young." "I think it's fine for people of different ages to date. And guess what else...?" "Hey, Sanja! Hey dad, what are you cooking?" "He was just telling me it's rosemary chicken. Sierra, would you be a dear and get my sweatshirt? I'm a little cold." "Oh. Okay." When Sierra was gone again, Sanja said, "You can tell I'm cold because I'm poking out. See?" She pulled her shirt tight against her, giving me a contour view of what I'd already noticed. "You're not going to do anything to me while I'm asleep tonight, are you, Mr. S?" she asked. "Sanja, go help Sierra find your sweatshirt, please." "Please? What's with all this 'please' in your house?" I related Sanja's escapades to Sarah while the girls were in Sierra's room getting ready for bed. "You can't be serious," said Sarah as a new round of giggling started up in there. "Sierra obviously doesn't know. Little daddy's girl would get insanely jealous. Is there anything you're not telling me?" "Isn't that enough?" "I did some snooping. Guess what I found in Sanja's bag?" "Cash?" She produced something which, at first, I took to be a stick of lipstick, but all one color. "Know what this is?" Comprehension dawned. "How does it work?" She twisted the base. It began humming quietly. "There were two of them. I left the other one in there." We both looked at the bedroom door, where there were occasional squawks, but otherwise things had gotten rather quieter. Sarah touched my leg. "Hey!" I jumped back at the sudden fuzzy feeling. "Shh!" We started wrestling for it. I forced it against her inner thigh. She struggled not to laugh aloud, fighting with me. I got it out of her hand and squished it against her breast. Her eyes went wide. She struggled not to make a noise, batting it away. I wrestled it down toward her thighs, lifting her dress up. She glanced at the door. "Sean, don't!" she whispered. As hard as she forced her thighs together, I managed to push it down into the gap against her panties. She made a noise at the back of her throat. Opening her legs suddenly and reaching under her, she almost managed to get ahold of it, but I was too quick for her. Pushing her back into the chair, my body keeping her legs from reclosing, I pressed it against her pussy, squeezing the fabric of her knickers. If the girls were to open the door, the chair back would hide us from view, but just barely. "Sean..." she began. "Sean! Sean..." she scolded, as I ground it against her, my fingers tracing the hem of a leg hole. "Sean, come on, no-" I pulled the panties aside and pushed the small dildo up into her. She doubled over, shaking, straining not to make a sound as I pulled the front panel of her knickers back into place. Just then the door opened. "Mom! Dad! We're ready." Sarah's eyes flew open. "We're coming!" I called. Sarah dug under her dress. I grabbed her hands and pulled her to her feet. "Sean!" she whispered. "Okay, you've both got your pills, and your glass of water?" I said. We entered the room. Sarah plopped down in the chair by the door. "Yes!" they echoed. "So what, do I just, like, swallow this?" Sanja asked. "That's it. Timer starts--" I checked my watch "-now." They swallowed their meds and laid back. I could hear something faintly buzzing against Sarah's chair. The girls' eyelids began to droop and fell shut. Sarah watched them darkly. "Are they down? Can I take it out now?" She spread her legs and reached for her crotch. I grabbed her hands and pushed them up against the wall, kissing her tightly closed mouth. "Sean!" "You'll take it out when I say you can. Yeah? Yeah? We can stay like this all night, and you don't get to have any fun." Sarah looked at me with rage, kissing me and biting my lip. "Which one do you want first?" She looked at the girls, frantic. "Both," she whined. "Stand." I helped her up and pulled the dress up over her head. She unclipped her bra rapidly and went for her underwear. "Not yet," I breathed, stopping her. I slipped my hand down to the front of her knickers and massaged her pussy through them. I could feel the blurry sensation of the end of the small vibrating dildo. Sarah fell on her hands and knees on the bed, landing on Sanja. Sanja tossed her head in her sleep and was still again. "They're both breathing, right?" Sarah asked. I looked. "Yeah." Sarah pulled the sheets off the bed, her eyes shut tight. "When can I take this out?" "When you shove it into Sanja's pussy," I breathed. She nodded jerkily. Sanja slept in an angle-bottomed designer nightshirt, cut like a Vietnamese dress. I pulled my shirt off and dropped my shorts to the floor as Sarah pushed the nightshirt up Sanja's hips to above her bellybutton. At twelve, Sanja's hips and pussy seemed different than Sierra's. I rubbed my dick against Sarah's panty-clad ass, gazing on Sanja. "I want to compare," I breathed. "Sierra's shirt now." Sarah moved over and pulled the big shirt entirely off our daughter. Sierra lay naked next to her half naked friend. True to her pledge, she wasn't wearing panties. Sensing her mother's touch, knowing what was happening on an instinctual level, her nipples grew rock hard, standing up proudly on her conical young breasts. Sarah settled down and began to kiss Sierra's pussy. The sight was so hot. Sarah's fine brown hair pooling across Sierra's thigh as she kissed and licked Sierra's pussy. I had to reward Sarah. I pulled her knickers down. She moaned in expectation of relief. Keeping the dildo in with my thumb, I let her step out of her underwear at the knees. I teased at pulling the vibrator out slowly, then pushed it back all the way into into Sarah. I licked her drooling pussy from behind, found her clit and started sucking directly on it. An immediate surge of wetness flowed around the dildo and Sarah moaned loudly into Sierra's pussy. Sarah's hips shook against my face. I lapped at her slit and ran my tongue from the verge of her pubes all the way back to the hard plastic cap of the vibrating dildo. She moaned deeply. Deciding she'd had enough, I backed it out of her still visibly convulsing pussy and withdrew the toy completely from her. Though not very wide around, her pussy gaped where the toy had been. Sarah rested, breathing hard against Sierra's thigh. I twisted the end and turned the vibrator off. Sliding up gently beside Sierra and Sarah, I ran my hand up Sierra's smooth leg, parted her lips and began to lick. "Mmmm... baby girl..." I whispered into her pussy, "You make daddy and mommy so happy. You're so soft and sweet." Sarah watched us for a moment. Holding her hair aside she brought her face in next to me. Our cheeks touched. Sarah replaced me, lovingly licking her daughter's pussy. She moved back, kissing the side of my face as I went in again sucking on Sierra's pussy lips. Sierra's thighs twitched from time to time under me as I explored her with my tongue, searching out secret places. I kissed my way up past her bellybutton, sucked on her breast, kissed my way up her flushed chest and neck, and began to make out with Sierra's pretty mouth. I'd kissed her so many times, but her mouth was forbidden when she was awake. I took my time exploring her. Her lips were so soft. They felt so thin. Her skin, gently smooth with sweat, felt new and warm. I kissed the crinkly little place at the bridge of her nose, kissed her dark flushed eyelids one by one. She was our girl, I felt. Forever. No matter what. Her head rolled back. Sierra opened her mouth wider, letting in a deep breath. Sarah, still at her pussy, had one fingertip gently inside Sierra's opening. Sarah brought her to a sleeping climax, tonguing at her clitoris. Sarah slowed to long, gentle licks, catching my eye and grinning. "Baby girl, we're not playing with your friend," she said. Still naked from the waist down, Sanja lay prone as if waiting, breathing slowly and deeply. I stood again, wandering over to Sanja's side. I reached under her shoulders and bundled the big letter "CK" nightshirt the rest of the way off her. Walking back to the foot of the bed, rubbing Sarah's bottom, I gazed upon the two girls, so much the same yet so different. Thin and a touch gawky at 10, lying flat upon the bed with her lush, shiny hair flowing all over the pillow, Sierra was a girl becoming beautiful. Without her clothes off, you wouldn't have guessed that those small breasts were there, or that that brown hair had begun to sprout softly around her gentle, rounded mound. Sanja had just gained beauty, and was still stowing it away. Straight black hair lay in a birdsnest under her head, her knees and elbows were still big, her hips still narrow, but everything was shaped somehow more as it would be when she was a full grown woman. She had no hair around her angular mound, but stubble revealed that she was already removing it. Sarah began thumbing Sanja's clitoris, scolding, "Now Sanja, you can't be mean to other girls. They're not going to want you over if you do that. If you say you're sorry, maybe Mr. and Mrs. S. will be nice and let you join in when we play special games with Sierra." She parodied Sanja's proper voice, speaking higher. "'Yes, Mrs. S. I'm sorry.' Are you really sorry? 'Yes, Mrs. S.' Okay. Maybe we'll let you lick Sierra's pussy if you keep being good, and Mrs. S. will keep on stroking your button. 'Oh please keep going, Mrs. S!' But you have to be punished, Sanja. I have to know that you feel bad. 'Oh, I do!"I'm sorry." "You're sorry you're such a spoiled little witch?" "Yes, I'm sorry." "Because you're getting very wet. Oh, I know!" I laughed, sitting down on the edge of the bed, wondering where this was going. "Sanja, this is for your own good." Sarah picked the dildo up off the bed, twisted it all the way to the highest, angriest setting, and crammed it into Sanja's little twat in one hard go. "Oh, Jesus!" I exclaimed. Sanja twitched and twisted in her sleep. Her mouth fell open, breath coming faster. A mindless moan escaped her. "This is what you get for being mean," said Sarah. "And for firing me when I worked so hard. This is exactly what you get." "Sarah-" She looked at me. "What?!" I didn't know what to say. "...Was she a virgin?" "I didn't feel it break, if that's what you mean. It's not in that deep. Hang on, though..." She probed. "Sarah, maybe we-" Sarah pushed it in until part of her finger disappeared. "No, there's nothing. See? She is tight, though." I stood up behind Sarah and ran a hand under her pussy to check it was still wet. Sarah angled her hips obediently. I pushed my cock in. "Sean, that's nice..." As I slowly pumped Sarah, I took her place playing with the dildo in Sanja's dripping, impossibly slick pussy. I rubbed Sanja's clit with my thumb. Her hips jerked under my hand. Another moan escaped her throat. "I think I just made her cum," I said. "She's cum a few times," said Sarah. "It takes nothing." Leaning down over Sarah's back, I found Sierra's pussy with my other hand. Fresh wetness spread through her warm slit as she felt her daddy's hand against it. Sarah held us up on her hands and knees. I fucked her slowly, breathing with her, feeling the two small pussies in my hands. I pulled the dildo out and gave Sanja a rest, rubbing her lips with my open palm. "What'll they think when they wake up?" Sarah asked. I felt her tighten up inside. "Crap! How much time do we have?" I checked the clock. Only 25 minutes had elapsed. Sarah relaxed. Soon, Sarah began tugging Sierra and Sanja closer together. She laid down between them, playing with a nipple from each. I did the same. Sanja's breast was the size of my palm. Her nipple was small, but hard as a BB. Sierra's nipple was nice and big and hard, but her breast small. She really would have her mom's nice big fat biteable nipples. Sarah slid on top of her daughter. "Harder, Sean," she whispered. I made them both move under me. Sarah kissed Sierra's prone mouth. Turning back, she whispered, "Pull out." I did, not knowing why. Sarah reached down, grasped my dick and inserted it into the space between her pussy and Sierra's. "Rub," she said. I reached under Sierra and cupped one of her cute little butt cheeks, angling her slit tighter against the underside of my dick. Sarah moved her hips to press their pussies together. The feeling was incredible. One big, soft pussy and one tiny, slick little slit slipping up and down the entire length of my shaft. I accidentally slipped into Sarah a couple of times, but she just pulled me back out and slipped my cock into the gap between them again. I thought I was going to cum right then. Sarah threw her leg over and rolled off. "Honey?" I asked, as she stepped around behind me. I continued to slide my dick against my daughter's warm little pussy. Sarah pulled Sanja's leg in and slid her on top of our daughter. Sarah's breasts pressed into my back as she held Sanja's hips at an angle, the girls' pussies touching around my dick. I looked down at Sanja's little heart-shaped butt. I was out of words. I just kept sliding my dick between these two slick, hot little pussies. "How does that feel?" Sarah whispered into my ear. I groaned. "See, Sanja? Mrs. S. said she'd let you play if you were nice." She picked the dildo up off Sanja's side of the bed, turned it on low, and ran it against herself. "Thank you for bringing such nice toys for our Sierra." "You want to try it on Sierra?" I breathed, finding my voice again. "It wouldn't go in," she whispered. "We could just rub it against her clit-" I began. Sarah's breath caught. She jerked and slumped against my back, not heavily, but it threw my concentration for a second. I slipped in. "Sarah," I said, feeling the tightest, velvetiest, warmest canal I could possibly imagine. "I'm... in!" "What?" "In. I'm in her." "Sanja!?" She twisted around, falling on the bed, staring wide-eyed. She ran a hand under me, feeling the shaft of my dick wet disappear into the lips of Sanja's tiny box. We looked at each other. My hips continued to move slowly of their own accord. Utterly lost for what to do, Sarah shrugged slightly. It felt like I was watching someone else do this. My dick slid into and out of those foot-wide hips over and open again. I picked Sanja up and held her in front of me, holding her by the breasts. Sarah touched the vibrator to Sierra's pussy, shifting herself in to gaze at Sanja's violated pussy. As Sierra's body began to jerk and twitch again, Sarah darted her tongue out and licked up my shaft to Sanja's clit. I moaned. Sarah became bolder, sucking on my cock and Sanja's pussy, getting her lips into it. I could feel her face pressing Sanja's hips back against me. Sanja began to quiver. A moan started low in her throat and ended in a high, shrieky whine. She panted. "Can't... hold it much longer," I groaned. Just then, on the bed, Sierra's whole body shook and writhed as the dildo in Sarah's hand buzzed against her. Sierra's eyes opened, confused, dreamy. "You're close?" Sarah asked me, watching Sierra's eyes stir. "Yeah," I managed. Sarah pulled Sanja away from me and lay her down on the bed. "Sierra," she said. Sierra's eyes fluttered open again. "It's time." She helped Sierra up, flopping her into a rough sitting position. Sierra's hands dropped to the bed in front of me, her eyes shutting again, head drooping. I felt her breath against my dick. I opened her jaw, parting her inviting lips, and slipped in against the roof of my daughter's tiny mouth. Sierra's lips closed. She suckled softly. Her tongue touched me experimentally. Sierra's eyes kept trying to open, perhaps sensing the strangeness of the situation, but her mouth sucked on. Sarah squeezed my shaft with her hand. I came into Sierra's mouth. Sierra's eyes squeezed tighter and her nose and brow crinkled uncertainly. "That's my baby girl," I whispered, shaking as the last drops of cum dribbled into Sierra's mouth. In a moment, Sarah pulled her off me. Her head lolled back toward sleep. "You have to share," Sarah whispered. She guided Sierra's face down against her friend's and made them kiss. Cum dribbled around Sierra's lips as her mouth tried to remember the motions of kissing. "Good girl," Sarah cooed. Sanja swallowed in her sleep. Sarah lay our daughter back on her pillow beside Sanja. Sierra's eyes fluttered halfway open one more time, forehead creasing. Sarah kissed the bridge of her nose. The crinkles disappeared, and Sierra slept on. We sat there resting for a moment on our knees. "We should probably get them dressed," said Sarah. "If we leave them like this... will they think they were making out?" I asked. "Just pull the covers back over them and leave them naked? That's pretty dangerous," said Sarah. She gave me a deadly sexy look. The next morning, we cheerfully called the girls out to breakfast. There was some quiet bumping around for a while. Eventually they emerged, dressed slapdash, their hair everywhere. "What were you two giggling about in there last night?" said Sarah. "Giggling?" Sierra asked, drowsy and confused. Sanja, who wasn't at all used to the sedative, crossed the floor slowly on unsteady legs and plopped down in a chair, gazing at us with a lost, blank expression. "We turned in after the hour was done, and then what, probably 1AM...?" "Somewhere around there," I said. "You two just started in to GIGGLING... I figured it must have been something funny." "I... I don't remember," Sierra admitted, shifting in her seat. Sanja put her head in her hand and missed the table with her elbow twice. "Oh well," I said. "Who wants flapjacks? We've got a big day ahead of us!	null	null	Authors/The_Ketch_Story_Guy/1_hour_a_night.txt
75,430	Perry Jones	Katie Gets It	Young Katie Henderson's eyes were closed, and her chin was raised so that the stinging spray from the shower hit her in the face and ran off her short blonde hair. The gumdrops on her luscious young breasts were raised and hard as gravel, and her right hand, with the small cake of soap still in it, was buried between her long legs, rubbing up and down her seething slit, her thumb nudging the fold over her tiny clit. She knew she was close and trembled, needing release. Her left hand was on the wall, supporting her as she ducked her head, leaned forward, and neared her climax, the tiny clit now fully erect and free of its hood. "Oh Gary, Gary, Gary," the girl sobbed as her orgasm hit her. "Uhhhhhhnnn," "Uhhhhhhnnn," "Uhhhhhhnnn," she moaned as her pussy juiced and clenched on her fingers. Her brother, Larry, was passing by the bathroom and heard his sister's moans. He knew she was masturbating. They used to take baths together and even sleep in the same room with only a curtain separating their beds. He always doted on her from the time she was born. Martha, their mom, worked two jobs to support their home and put food on the table. She took courses at the local community college to better herself for more than 5 years. Her husband was killed in a work-related accident, and the insurance was insufficient to provide more than burial expenses. Martha recently graduated, and her employer promoted her into a management position with a huge salary increase. This extra money was enough to allow her to get a mortgage on a single-family house. The home was not new, but it was almost 2000 square feet with 3 bedrooms and two bathrooms. The master suite had its own dedicated bath with a large tub and a separate tiled shower area. The kids were allowed to use it since they shared a bathroom between their bedrooms. There were locks on the doors so that whomever was using the bath had to wait until the other was done or be let in with permission. Katie was in her mom's shower, having just come home from cheerleader practice. Larry heard her and realized what she was doing. He was afraid she would slip and fall and maybe hurt herself. It had been a couple of years since he had seen her naked, and he just had to see. He entered the bathroom and took off his boxer shorts. Naked, he stepped into the shower with her. Katie heard a noise and turned, squealed, and threw the soap at him. "What are you doing?" she gasped as her brother smiled at her and took in all of her slim teen-aged body. His thick cock surged and got even harder, rising to point at the ceiling. "Get out," she yelled at him. "Are you crazy?" "Mom's not home," he said gently as he pinched her pink nipples and twisted them back and forth. Her breasts were small but wonderfully round and firm. "Don't you want to have some fun?" He bent and licked one, tasting soap. He bent his knees, and his blunt cockhead bumped his sister's legs and then jutted out between them, the thick shaft rubbing her whole pudenda. Katie was cute, everybody said so, and while she wasn't as voluptuous or lovely as his former girlfriend, she was certainly on the way to becoming a fox with her developing rack, her trim waist, and her well-rounded ass. Billy had long admired the puff of his sister's tiny belly and longed to see and taste what lay below it. "No, no, you pervert. Take that ugly thing and get out of here." Katie squirmed away and then beat on her brother's muscular chest with her small fists, and he pulled the girl to him so that his huge cock was mashed between them, its head almost into her cleavage. Katie felt as if the thick rod were burning her and shuddered in fear and anger, sobbing, her vagina pulsing and quivering. She could not believe how big and hard it was. "Who's this Gary?" he asked with a smile, enjoying the feel of her warm and wet flesh on his hard and overheated cock. He grabbed her buttocks with both hands and squeezed. She gasped as his prick slid along her labia and nudged her clit. "Nobody," she said, wiggling, "let me go." "Put your hands on the wall," he said, turning her to face the pouring showerhead. "No, no," she squealed, aware of the size, shape, and arousal of her brother's eight-inch ram. "I'm a virgin, Billy. Please don't." It looked as thick as the handle of her tennis racket. The boy lathered his hard prong and then slid it gently into his sister's anus. He held her slim hips, gritted his teeth, and slowly inched himself fully up into her as her ring muscles relaxed, and she arched her back, came up on her toes, and let her head hang between her elbows as her sphincter yielded fully, and he penetrated steadily. Katie whimpered, feeling violated. It hurt as she was stretched and violated. "Ready?" said her brother, smacking her buttocks loudly as he pulled back. She shook her head. He slipped his left hand up to cup her perfect little breast and held his right hand down her firm belly and into her groin, and then he began to ass-fuck her with long, practiced strokes, half-foot rams that lifted her up on her toes. Billy thought of all the women he had served in the past year, all the grass widows, but he could not recall an ass as tight and exciting as his fourteen-year-old sister's butt. He found her clit and teased it while held her engorged tit to a hard stream of shower water and pumped and pumped, deeper and deeper, teeth clenched, back arched, in to the balls. Katie sobbed and grunted, feeling angry and violated with her brother's swollen scrotum smacking against her vulva and his fingers exciting her clit. She found herself making small animal noises and felt an unwanted orgasm begin to sweep over her. She gasped and cried out, head up and mouth open for the water to pour in, and her brother kept right on abusing her until he ejaculated with a series of shudders and a squeal of pleasure. By then the girl was down on the floor of the shower on hands and knees, and her rutting brother was crouched above her buttocks, still thrusting hard as he emptied himself in his sister's rectum, his knees bent and eyes closed. Billy pulled his cock out, washed it carefully for it was sore and sensitive, and then left his sister on the shower floor, sobbing and gagging. He dried himself, stroked his ram hard again with the rough towel, and when Katie stepped from the shower, he wrapped her in a big, fluffy towel and walked her back to her bedroom, telling her what a good girl she was and how much he had needed what she let him do. "Bastard, bastard," Katie sobbed. "I don't blame Beth for dumping you. How could you do that to me?" She fell face down on her bed, sobbing. Billy dried her as best he could, rolled her over and dried her some more, and then lifted her coltish legs up on his broad shoulders and set the blunt head of his proud tool at the entrance of his sister's tight-lipped vagina. He stroked his hardening rod until it jerked eagerly. Katie looked down between her mounded young breasts and saw the huge, heavily veined rod jutting from her brother's hairy groin and poised to rip her apart. Since he was much stronger, she couldn't think of any way to stop him and took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Then the idea came. "I'll tell, Billy, I swear I will. Don't do it." "Please, please, baby. It will make you feel so good." "No, no, you're much too big. Don't, don't." She could feel the head of his ram beginning to spread open her inner lips. He was at least an inch into her. The thing was monstrous; it would never fit. Katie squirmed and kicked, but her brother held her hips and rammed himself forward with a groan as she rolled to her side, and his rigid ram popped out and jumped up to smack his belly. Katie got her feet on his chest and neck and pushed, scrambling away, but her brother caught her by a foot and pulled her back up on the bed. He dragged a pillow down under her hips and spread her legs on his forearms, grasping his hot cock and pushing its head into his sister's pink passage, determined to have her, to satisfy his aching. "I'll suck it. I'll suck it!" Katie yelled at him. "Don't pop my cherry. Please, please, Billy, don't! Don't!" Having harvested one maidenhead in his life, Billy was aware that he was pressing against his sister's hymen. He hesitated and looked down at her stricken face. She was so pretty, so sweet, and so young. Most of his sexual adventures had been with women in their thirties. Most of the pussies he had pleased had numerous visitors before he came on the scene to make the woman happy. He recalled the first day with Beth, getting the rubbers, taking her cherry and then fucking three more times before they called it quits. It was what he had thought of as the best day of his life. He wiggled his big cock out of his sister's tight grip and crawled up her lean body, dragging it between her round breasts to present its dripping head to her lips.Her tongue snaked out to take in the warm pre-cum oozing from his hard member, and then it was between her lips and in her mouth. "You've done this before," he said down at her as she began bobbing on his rod, circling its head with her tongue and making her work spit slick. Katie managed to smile despite having her jaws stretched by the size of her brother's penis. It was true. She had sucked several cocks this school year and even let Gary come in her mouth last weekend down in the Mason's basement. But she had never had anything like her brother's huge phallus in her mouth. It was frightening, and it was exciting. She reached up and put a hand on it, feeling the iron below the smooth skin, the rod moving in and out. Billy remembered Mrs. Jones, the first person to ever give him a blow job, and was surprised to find that his little sister was so good at it. She had managed to get fully half of his rod in her mouth and had only gagged twice when he pushed deeper. Now Billy wanted more as he felt her teeth rake his shaft. He pulled his hard prick from his sister's mouth with a loud plop and dragged the girl over to the edge of her bed, turned her on her back and moved her so her head hung off the side. Then he crouched at the side of the bed, a smile on his face, said, "Open wide," and eased his cock right down his sister's throat.	null	null	Authors/Pounder/Katie Gets It.txt
75,969	Arlin Wordsmith	Getting Old	You might be getting old if: Getting a little action means your prune juice is working. You might be getting old if: Your birthday candles cost more than your cake. You might be getting old if: You feel like the morning after when you haven't been anywhere. You might be getting old if: Your broad mind and narrow waist have exchanged places. You might be getting old if: You stop to think and sometimes forget to start again. You might be getting old if: a hair on your head is worth two in your brush. You might be getting old if: you go to bed to make mad, passionate sleep. You might be getting old if: your idea of getting enough exercise is a good, brisk sit followed by a nice, long nap. You might be getting old if: you have forgotten what your feet look like. You might be getting old if: your back goes out more than you do. You might be getting old if: hitting the road means just that, and there is no one around to help you back up. You might be getting old if: you have given up all your bad habits and you still feel like shit. You might be getting old if: you have a choice between two temptations and you choose the one that will get you home in time to watch Matlock. You might be getting old if: your spouse tells you that you have changed from a stud to a dud. You might be getting old if: you can't remember the last time you had really great sex or why you came into the bedroom. You might be getting old if: the morning after lasts all day. You might be getting old if: one scotch, one bourbon, one beer means you are passed out on the floor. You might be getting old if: today is the tomorrow you worried about yesterday. You might be getting old if: a night out is followed by a day in bed. You might be getting old if: the only Chippendales you are interested in are in an antique store. You might be getting old if: you still chase women but you can't remember why, and if you catch one, you can't remember what to do. You might be getting old if: your arms are not long enough to read the newspaper. You might be getting old if: if you think Twitter is something that birds do. You might be getting old if: you can remember when the air was clean and sex was dirty. You might be getting old if: oral sex now means that you just talk about it. You might be getting old if: you don't do a 69 because there is no way you are going to do that 68 more times. You might be getting old if: a three-way is something you plug into an outlet instead of something you do in bed. You might be getting old if: 69 is now just the number before 70. You might be getting old if: your teeth are like stars, they come out at night. You might be getting old if: your favorite night spot is in front of the TV set. You might be getting old if: you fall asleep during Jay Leno's monologue and wake up to Al Roker doing the weather. You might be getting old if: caution is the only thing you exercise. You might be getting old if: everything has started to wear out, fall out, or spread out. You might be getting old if: your knees buckle when your belt won't. You might be getting old if: you say "I remember when..." and then forget what the hell you were going to say. You might be getting old if: Black and White was a TV set, not the color of the couple next door. You might be getting old if: being gay meant that you were happy. You might be getting old if: when people tease you about your age, you beat them with your cane. You might be getting old if: get excited about the new flavor of bran flakes. You might be getting old if: you have stopped feeling your oats and started feeling your corns. You might be getting old if: shingles are not just something on the roof but that burning pain on your back. You might be getting old if: the last 50-yard dash you did was to the restroom. You might be getting old if: you remember when you did not have to lock up your car, house, or your daughter. You might be getting old if: your Bowflex is now just another hanger for your clothes. You might be getting old if: you joined a health club but you're too tired to drive there. You might be getting old if: you walk the dog in your Hoveround power chair. You might be getting old if: you get winded playing cards. You might be getting old if: you were a horse, they would have shot you by now. You might be getting old if: you can remember all the words to Gilligan's Island but can't find your reading glasses because they are on your forehead. You might be getting old if: you get lost on a trip down memory lane. You might be getting old if: if your aching bones are better forecasting the weather than Al Roker. You might be getting old if: gun control meant you hit what you were shooting at. You might be getting old if: a swinger was a child in a swing. You might be getting old if: you finally found the meaning of life but forgot what the hell it was. You might be getting old if: they hold your high school reunion at the graveyard next year. Getting old is not for sissies, I know I am there. Let me know what you thought of this @ [email protected]	null	null	Authors/Arlin_Wordsmith/Getting Old.txt
76,355	Michael K. Smith	Charly the Yard Guy	Yard-guy sex is actually a fairly popular topic when women meet in sewing circles, at the hairdresser's, or even at PTA executive meetings. There's something about a muscular young man in a sweaty T-shirt that outlines and emphasizes those muscles that brings out the libido in the everyday housewife. I don't personally know anyone who has actually made love to her yard guy, but I have heard some wild claims and have had lots of friends who have incorporated the yard guy into fantasies later in the evening. Come to think of it, I did make love to my yard guy just last week, but I had him take a shower with me first to get rid of all those little pieces of grass and herbicides that aren't really all that sexy. Of course, the mitigating circumstance in my case is that I am married to my yard guy. Anyway, in the present story, Charly the Yard Guy is actually Charlene the 16-year-old Yard Girl, who takes over the job of doing extensive yard work for the 35-year-old neighbor when her brothers can no longer do the work. She quickly becomes more than a yard worker. Although the older man tries to resist the relationship, they fall in love and move swiftly along to a tender and happy ending. TITLE: How to Write Stories Good TAGS: CHAPTER: AUTHOR: Michael K. Smith CORRECTED_TEXT: This author goes into greater detail than I do, but here are the five guidelines from my FAQ that I give to budding writers of erotica who feel they are being neglected by their public: (a) Have an angle (topic, point of view, or whatever you want to call it) and introduce it early. Give the readers a reason to want to read the story. (b) Don't waste your time with irrelevant details. (c) Use an effective writing style.It is sometimes effective to write in a deliberately illiterate style in order to achieve an effect, but even people who say they don't care about grammar become turned off when writing becomes just plain confusing. (d) Make the sex scenes achieve the effect you want. For example, not all erotic stories are supposed to be "hot," but if yours is supposed to be arousing, you yourself should become at least moderately aroused when you reread the story. Try to look at the story from the point of view of your readers. If you expect to turn on respectable but sexy high school English teachers, try to imagine someone of that description reading your story and imagine how she will feel while she is reading your words. (e) Follow rules for good grammar, such as those posted in my Celestial Grammar and Advanced Celestial Grammar. My guidelines never contradict Smith's, but I'd advise you to pay greater attention to his, since he is a proven, successful author. Ratings for "How to Write Stories Good" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 "Nope. They Can't Mow The Lawn" by Dr. D. (THC Repost). I have to admit that the only reason I read this story was that it mentioned mowing the lawn. I figured it would contrast nicely with the preceding story. Actually, this is a well-told story about a guy who fucks his wife in the ass while he simultaneously works over her pussy with a large cucumber. It's so crazy, it just might work! Ratings for "Nope. They Can't Mow The Lawn" Athena (technical quality): 9 Venus (plot & character): 7 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 "Beverly Hills, 90210: Bed Rest" by Reverend Jim ([email protected]). Kelly and Valerie do not get along. If you didn't already know that, you probably won't enjoy this story. The plot is not exactly creative; it's enjoyable primarily because it is easy for fans to picture these characters from the Fox television show and to imagine the irony of these two little sex kittens exchanging mutual pleasure. Incidentally, I don't at all approve of this sort of sexual activity. Common sense says that if you have intense oral sex with a person who has the flu, you're going to catch the disease yourself. Ratings for "Bed Rest" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 8 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 8 "HypnoTV: Melrose Place" by MAW ([email protected]). This story incorporates mind control through hypnosis into a couple of story lines based on the Melrose Place television series. First Amanda hypnotizes Alison and makes her exchange sexual pleasantries. Of course, she also gives her a post-hypnotic suggestion which will turn her back into a sex slave upon command. In a separate sequence, Sydney makes love to Kimberly and then describes to her how she had used hypnosis to seduce the cold-hearted Jane. Next, Sydney and Kimberly go out and reactivate the old hypnosis trigger on Jane, and then they bring Jo into the action. Finally, Sydney and Kimberly go to New York and meet Phoebe, Rachel, and Monica and do the story by this author that I reviewed last week. As I have said many times, I find it to be really simplistic (and uninteresting) to suggest that people are likely to become sexual slaves through just a few seconds of staring at a magic ruby or candle. The author admits this problem, but just admitting it doesn't make it stop being a problem. Maybe Melrosers who are already fascinated by mind control or accept the notion of easy hypnosis-for-sex will greatly enjoy the image of the people from Melrose Place doing kinky things to one another. This author is not a bad writer. She just needs to work on her plots. Right now she is operating on the assumption that simply inserting mind control and sex into stories with familiar characters will result in sexually stimulating stories. It's not quite that easy: not all mind control stories with good grammar are automatically good. I would suggest looking at some of the stories by RC, who specializes in this genre. The five best mind control stories I have ever read are "Trances" by Michael K. Smith, "Reward" by Bill Green, "Wet Dreams" by Backrub, "All We Like Sheep" by MC Woodsmoke, and "Experiment" by Deirdre. Each of these stories integrates mind control with a sound plot structure to generate a truly erotic story. If this author would incorporate similar strategies, she would possibly produce some good stories. An additional problem with this story is that the Amanda and Alison part seems to be entirely unrelated to the other three segments. I would recommend focusing on a single story line. Ratings for "HypnoTV: Melrose Place" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 6 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 6 "Fantasy 1.0" by Wiley06 (reposted by Mr. Double ([email protected])). This author has run the gamut of my ratings. I have rated his stories as low as 1 and as high as 10. I suspect he would agree with my ratings: he knows how to write exceedingly well; it's just that sometimes he doesn't bother to develop his stories as fully as possible. Another thing about this author is that he makes me nervous. I think he would be proud of that fact. When I read his stories, I feel someone leering at me; I don't quite feel safe. Wiley doesn't write romances. A final thing about Wiley is that he changes his number every year. When I first found his stories, he was Wiley03. Last year he was Wiley05. By now he's probably Wiley07. My theory is that at the turn of the millennium he'll change his name to Smiley01 and write romances. In this story, the narrator spots a cute, wholesome teenager at a bus stop with her mother and fantasizes about all the neat things that he and his friends could do to her at a fraternity gangbang. Like I said, Wiley0x makes me nervous, and he's not writing romances yet. Ratings for "Fantasy 1.0" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 "Art Appreciation" by Taria ([email protected]). The woman is genuinely pissed off because she has been standing in the cold, waiting for her husband, who is late again. When she discovers that she has been standing in front of an art gallery, she goes inside, where she discovers that the gallery is displaying the works of Andres - "Andres Presents the History of Sex," to be precise. The display turns her on and reminds her of a nearby sex shoppe, and she goes to that store and acquires some sex toys. She takes the next day off and stays home and plays with herself, while her husband goes to work. The self-stimulation is extremely erotic, but the best part is the creative use of a dildo during subsequent ff sexual activity with a friend. Next, we are treated to her voyeurism, while she watches her husband masturbate with a dildo. Say what? Is this guy kinky or something? Well, I guess he is kinky, but his wife incorporates his fantasies into a memorable session of teasing and anal lovemaking. The author does an excellent job of describing interesting and sexy details of the lovemaking session. Ratings for "Art Appreciation" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 "Alone" by Dennis ([email protected]). This is a story about a man who feels lonely at the end of a difficult day and fantasizes about the woman with whom he has been engaging in cybersex. Normally, I have trouble enjoying stories that are written from one person to another and then simply transposed onto a.s.s. as a "story." Usually, such stories fail to catch an audience beyond the person for whom they were originally intended. This one is different. Somehow - even though it seems to have been written for a person other than myself - it manages to attract me as a sort of voyeur, watching that original imaginary relationship. This author could use some work on plot and character development, but this is already pretty good material - especially for a first effort. Ratings for "Alone" Athena (technical quality): 9 Venus (plot & character): 8 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 9 "Fun In The Tub" by MIKE HUNT ([email protected]). Question: Oh great and wise guru, is it worse to be pissed off or to be pissed on? Answer: Worst of all is to be pissed off because you have been pissed on. Once upon a time, Mike and June were having marital difficulties. Instead of going to a marriage counselor or to a former classmate in Maine, they went to a motel in Denver and ordered a 6-pack of Coors beer from room service. Then they played sex slaves. Somehow the sex slavery got fixated on delaying the onset of intinction, the difficulty of which was augmented by extensive imbibing. You can look all that up in your Funk and Wagnalls. After June gets pissed off because she can't piss, Mike gets pissed off because June reciprocates. Then they laugh like bunnies in heat, and this solves their marital problems. Or something like that. Ratings for "Fun In The Tub" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 9 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 9 "Cold" by George Stapanek (A+ Story). If you're into ennui or existential angst, you might enjoy this story more than I did. It left me cold. The man fucks the woman, but neither shows much emotion or enjoys it very much. Ray N. Velez liked this story; otherwise, he wouldn't have posted it as an A+ story. This is short enough (484 words) to have been submitted for the Third Annual Celestial Story Contest (deadline June 3). But it wouldn't have won. It left me cold. Ratings for "Cold" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 6 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 5 "Fools Rush In" by Joe Parsons ([email protected]). I enjoy a creative commercial now and then.My favorite television ad right now is the one where the man is seeing a woman off at a train station and they are quickly writing and displaying messages to each other as he runs down the platform while the train begins to depart. Suddenly, she holds up a note that says "Post" (or maybe it's "Pole"). He looks confused but keeps running - then he crashes into a lamppost. The present story is actually a commercial, but it's a very creative plug for the author's phone-sex service. The story is about Gush Plumbob, the idol of Real Americans across the Fruited Plain, who runs a radio talk show. One day, while he's on the air denouncing commies and advertising Spotted Owl Delicacies, he receives a call from a sexy woman, who leaves him her phone number, which is not 1-900-HOT-CHIX, but supplies a similar service. Gush calls her back and has the orgasm of his life right there on the line, and afterwards he feels compelled to turn the portraits of Senators McCarthy, Helms, and Gingrich so that they face the wall instead of staring at him in lofty grandeur from his office. {We can tell this is fiction because there is no Senator Gingrich among the Real Americans.} Some people object to the notion that a person would use this newsgroup to advertise a commercial service. I don't. In each case, this author gives us the entire story. He doesn't tantalize us, get us hooked, and then make us pay to hear the end of the story. We just read his stories and then see his ad for his phone service at the end. I have never called Joe's phone service, and I don't intend to. But if everybody who posts a spam message on this newsgroup would also supply a fresh story as good as those by this author, I would be a very happy camper. Ratings for "Fools Rush In" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 9 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 9 * "Angelic Interlude" by Joe Parsons ([email protected]). The man and woman have communicated for some time through cyberspace. They have never met, but she has described her fantasies of what she would like to do to him. Now she is coming to visit him in person, and he is waiting for her plane at the airport. Her name is Angel; hence the title. I guess almost everybody who reads stories on this newsgroup has a fantasy of this happening - even those of us who have no intention of ever consummating such a relationship. Of course, this is just the cyberspace version of the old honky-tonk romance that the country-western singers tell us about. The odds are actually pretty remote that a guy will have the three best orgasms of his life within an hour after getting out of the car in a wilderness clearing after picking up his mysterious lover at the airport. But isn't it pretty to think so? So the storyline is trite, but it's well written and just plain hot sex. Ratings for "Angelic Interlude" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 * "Encounter at Green's Rock" by Joe Parsons ([email protected]). The woman has decided to visit the island area in Maine that she used to haunt with her cousins during her childhood. She comes upon a teenage boy masturbating, and after watching him, she makes tender love to him. This main event is surrounded by numerous reflections on her own sexual development. This is a well-written, sensitive, erotic story. Ratings for "Encounter at Green's Rock" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 * "When Morning Comes" by Joe Parsons ([email protected]). Ellen has a kind and gentle lover who does everything he can to meet her needs, but she longs for someone who will dominate her. She wakens from a dream and finds a stranger in her bedroom, who does to her all that she had dreamed of and more. Was it a dream or reality? You read it and decide for yourself. Ratings for "When Morning Comes" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 9.5 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 9.5 * "Livinia" by Friar Dave. Hubris can be a serious problem. The term refers to "an overweening pride" or over-confidence typically shown by heroes in classical tragedies immediately before their downfall. I haven't used the word "overweening" since I wrote that definition on an exam nearly 20 years ago, but I have had my share of hubris. In the present case, I figured that I knew Friar Dave so well that after I had read in Part 1 about him having passionate sex with a hot Filipino woman with a cute daughter, I figured I had the story pretty well figured out. They would make love in numerous interesting ways; he would become a devoted father figure for the daughter; and Livinia and our hero would get married and live happily ever after. Then at the beginning of Part 2, my mind was jarred to discover that the hero already had a wonderful but open relationship with another beautiful woman who sometimes liked the same ladies that the hero liked. That's hubris for you. The opposite of hubris is Socratic humility, and it will be more useful in the present situation. I know nothing except that I know nothing about this story, and I had better get back to it. It sounds both hot and interesting. Surprises abound in this story. Soon we learn that Livinia was essentially a sex slave in the Philippines, but through some good luck she managed to get away with her daughter to the United States. We also discover that Livinia has a confused sister with some lesbian proclivities, and that Livinia is one of those proclivities. In addition to teaching English, I have done a lot of work with sexually abused women. The main difference between Livinia and most of the women who have been through similar experiences is that she is still alive and even adaptively functional at the age of 30. The story is realistic, sensitive, and sexy. Friar Dave's writing style is not as sharp as it has been in most of his other stories, but maybe he got wrapped up in the plot too. I found this to be a most enjoyable story. Ratings for "Livinia" Athena (technical quality): 9.5 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 * "One Moment in Time" by D.B. This story was originally posted by Michael K. Smith "for a friend" who had written it but could not post it herself because she is a teacher in a public school and could therefore not engage in public impropriety. How quaint! The present reposting is by a person named Clayton, who has reposted quite a few really good stories recently. I have no idea whether this author has posted any additional stories, or (if so) what name she now uses. If anyone knows the answers to these questions, I'd like to hear the information, since this is a potentially excellent author. This story describes the passionate attraction that develops when a married man falls in love with a married woman at first sight and decides to take the chance to act on that attraction. I've felt these attractions myself, and so has my husband. I'm pretty sure that in real life acting on these attractions is more likely to lead to an ending like that in the movie "Fatal Attraction" or at least screw up one's family life pretty badly, but it sure is fun to read about one of these fantasies working out so well. This is really hot stuff! Ratings for "One Moment in Time" Athena (technical quality): 9 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 * "Getting It Right (A Beginning)" by Michael K. Smith ([email protected]). Without ruining the plot for you, I can't really tell you much about this story, except that it's a well-written, realistic portrayal of adolescent romance. If you're looking for something to turn you on real fast, this would be a bad choice, but if you want a story that's likely to remind you of something from your own adolescence, this may be a good one.	null	null	Authors/Celestial_Reviews/1997/183-May_21.txt
76,399	Terressa Wright	Some of my Favorite Masturbation Fantasies	You know who I really feel sorry for? I mean, besides the person who just corrected my grammar to, "Do you know for whom I really feel sorry?"I feel sorry for the poor bastard whose life is so miserable that even his masturbation fantasies really suck. Especially if "his" name is Terressa Wright. I guess I'd feel even more sorry for the poor bastard who was so desperate for motivational fantasies that he'd read the juiced-up, quasi-literate writings of the poor bastard whose life is so miserable that even his masturbation fantasies really suck. I don't recommend this "story." It's just a really bad attempt at fantasies like those you can easily find in the Penthouse Forum. Ratings for "Some of my Favorite Masturbation Fantasies": Athena (technical quality): 4 Venus (plot & character): 4 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 4 "Tongue and Cheek" by Hawk "Santa" Richards ([email protected]). The term "tongue in cheek" refers to the notion that a person is kidding - that it's necessary to place one's tongue firmly against one's cheek in order to refrain from breaking out in uproarious laughter when the naive listener swallows what we are saying. Needless to say, that's not the sort of tongue 'n cheek we're talking about here. As the title suggests (I say, tongue in cheek), the narrator gets fired from his job right before Christmas, and the only job he can get is that of a department store Santa Claus. As the author points out (tongue in cheek), there is nothing like a fat guy in a red suit to turn on the ladies! And as the narrator says (tongue in cheek) to a female passerby who rejects this hypothesis: "HOE! HOE! HOE! YOU FUCKING HOE!" Well, you'll have to read the story to get the full meaning of this title and to discover what this has to do with Santa getting a blowjob from a hooker near Santa Central. Ratings for "Tongue and Cheek": Athena (technical quality): 9 Venus (plot & character): 8 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 8 "The Night Before Christmas" by M1KE HUNT ([email protected]). "Fucking Mike Hunt!" That's the title of a story by this author, you know. A good story. One that I rated it 10-10-10. Mike Hunt usually writes stories with himself as the legendary hero who copulates with June or the twins or a rapacious slut in an elevator. This one doesn't even sound like Mike Hunt. I suspect it's a leftover from the estate of O. Henry. "Fucking Mike Hunt!" See, the problem is that I already KNEW who was going to win my Celestial Christmas Story contest. And then this story arrives, and now I have to stop and think and reread the stories and diddle myself and lose sleep over this decision and eventually decide who wins my prize. With my luck, I'll get even more good entries! I can't tell you much about this story, except that it's about a young man and a young woman, neither of whom is especially religious, who have been celebrating the Christmas/Hanukkah season together in a special way since they were newlyweds. Since I have already told you that this story is in the style of O. Henry, you can surmise that there is a surprise ending; but you'll get no more clues from me. Ratings for "The Night Before Christmas": Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 "My Xmas Threesome" by Patty Nickel ([email protected]). Three people watch the Queen's Christmas speech and then have sex. I think. The author offers a web site where we can find even more stories of comparable quality. People who say that no story is really worthless have not read this one. Ratings for "My Xmas Threesome": Athena (technical quality): 1 Venus (plot & character): 1 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 1 "Another Christmas Carol" by James Martin ([email protected]). My husband has always been reluctant to buy me sexy lingerie. At first he would simply say, "You already look sexy; and all I'd do would be take it off of you." When I explained that that activity itself might be interesting, he switched from the utilitarian argument to the more ambiguous statement that "it gets hard when he has to deal with the sales personnel." I assumed that "hard" meant "difficult" and that "it" was a weak and indefinite use of a pronoun, common among non-English teachers. Having read this story, I now understand his problem: "it" has a more definite antecedent, and "hard" refers to epidermal surface tension. This is a very clever story about a man who goes shopping to buy lingerie for his wife for Christmas. If sales personnel gave all their customers this much attention, they would certainly earn their Christmas bonuses. Ratings for "Another Christmas Carol": Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 "Wendy's Weekend" by Captain Atom ([email protected]). Guest review by Bookman. This story doesn't offer Your Faithful Reviewer a whole lot to review. The plot is about as basic and mindless as your average porn flick, but then, Captain Atom acknowledges that at the beginning. He's not challenging Dostoevsky here; he knows it; that's not his purpose; and he goes on from there. Basically, we have Wendy, Slut Queen of an unnamed campus, and a few of her apparently leather-vaginaed friends cavorting happily through a wide swath of the male population. And that's pretty much it. And yet there's a driving vitality in this suck-and-fuck marathon that ultimately becomes effective. When I read it, I was both exhausted and recently drained, and it still got a rise out of me. Could use a little proofreading, but at this level there aren't enough errors to really get in the way. Just don't expect plot or character development, and I think you'll enjoy this little offering. Ratings for "Wendy's Weekend": Athena (technical): 8 Venus (plot and character): 5 Apollo (appeal to reviewer): 8 "Expelled" by Sexy Grrl ([email protected]). Guest review by Wherryman. A fairly simple plot to this story. Uncle Frank is picking up his niece, his 'Princess', who has been expelled from school for 'wanton behaviour' - in this case getting caught in bed with the son of the headmaster of the nearby boys school. They only get halfway home before bad weather forces them to stop at a motel and... What do you mean, you know what's coming? OK, so you're right - they end up in bed together; this is a.s.s.* after all - but getting them there is handled reasonably well. Unfortunately the story ends there, just as things are getting interesting. One orgasm each and then all we get is 'My dear uncle continued my re-education into the night.' I felt rather like I imagine 'Princess' did when caught by the headmaster, cheated of the main event. Stop press: Celeste 242 includes a review of 'Pierced' which appears to be a further adventure of 'Princess'. It hasn't reached my neck of the woods yet but her technical mark suggests that it is a little more polished than this episode. Ratings for "Expelled": Technical merit: 7 Plot & character: 7 Appeal to reviewer: 7 "Young Karen" by Unknown Author (reposted by Commander Jameson). Guest review by Fiddler. This story purports to be the reminiscence of a man about his boyhood sexual experiments. Our hero never gives his name, but he is friends with Bob and David, two other horny 12-year-old boys. They talk about sex, try out a little mutual play, and hear about David's adventures with his 9-year-old sister Karen. "Oh yeah?" say Bob and our hero. "Yeah," says David, "would you like to play with her, too?" The rest of the action is almost as predictable as their answer, but the story has its redeeming points. Karen is neither a beaten submissive nor a precociously horny slut. She is a believable kid who is believably curious. After all, the adults are trying too keep all the fun for themselves. When our hero almost achieves penetration, Karen suffers believable pain. They stop. They never try again. End of story. One's reaction to pedo stories is even less predictable than one's reaction to straighter stories. I didn't find this story arousing, but I did find it convincing (except the part about Jewish parents sending their kids to parochial school). I wasn't squicked. I have no guesses whether you will be aroused or squicked. Ratings for "Young Karen": Athena (technical quality): 9.5 Venus (plot & character): 10 Fiddler (appeal to this reviewer): 9 "Trade Show" by Wolf Whistle (posted by [email protected]). Guest review by Piper. In this story, the unnamed protagonist is at a trade show for dentists. By inference, we learn that he was manning a booth all day - eleven hours straight. Unlike most trade shows, at least a.s.s. trade shows, there aren't dozens of scantily clad and more than willing hostesses, guests, dental assistants, and others, who are willing to show the tired, yet horny, promoter of something-or-other a good time. At least, that holds true until he gets in the elevator to head to his room for some self-gratification followed by sleep. Susan is the young woman's name. She has this -- this -- well, this smell about her. He finds it almost irresistible. When asked, however, Susan insists that she isn't wearing any perfume. The intoxicating scent drives him to distraction. They then retire to his room for some of the usual. It's the best he's ever had in his life, either before or since. The next morning, he finds out who the lady is. Or was. This is a case where the storycodes give away the big surprise ending before we even begin to read the story. When we are told (M/Fspirit), we can safely assume that a man and a no-longer-of-this-earth woman will be doing something together. There's no surprise, which takes away much of the punch the author was trying to create. Score one for M1ke Hunt's argument against storycodes. I'm not sure whether I liked this story or not.It was fairly well written, although there are a couple of quite nasty typos (weak for weak, e.g.), and a bit of editing would have helped, but the story lacked that gut-level appeal I look for when other interest factors, such as humor, an involved plot, or complex characterization, aren't present. Other details, such as the fact that he was in room 601, but the murder took place in 701 ("in that very room"??), also confused me. Was there a connection somewhere that I missed? Overall, the hot bits were pretty good, but the packaging was iffy. Ratings for "Trade Show": Technical merit: 8 Plot and character: 7 Appeal to reviewer: 7 "Bikini Brigade" by Andrew Roller ([email protected]). Guest review by Piper. Oh, dear. Katie and Bambi are in trouble. Big trouble. You see, one of them stole a bag of gummy bears, did something bad, and failed to do something good, all on the same day. Katie was running away from home because she didn't want to go with the woman from Child Protective Services. Bambi went along for the ride. Actually, it's the other way around. 13-year-old Bambi was doing the driving in her brand new candy-apple-red 4x4, while 12-year-old Katie was navigating. So there they are. Lost. In the dark. On a purple road paved with Wild Berry Pop Rocks. Around them, candy apples grow from candy apple trees, while gold-foil-covered chocolate leaves fall from the maple trees. They find a sign made of peanut brittle. On it, written in licorice, is a message - "Welcome to Candyland". Under that, in smaller letters, is written "Citadel - 307ks". Out from the woods steps Boswell the Berry Bear, who explains where they are, how they got there (see above things that Katie did), why they arrived there, and how they might get back home. Then he tells them the bad news - Licorice Lad is looking for some young human girls to...to...,uh, well, to do indecent things with, involving parts of their bodies they normally keep clothed, and Katie and Bambi are the only young human girls currently in Candyland. Bambi calls it as she sees it - Licorice Lad wants to have sex with them. With characters like Licorice Lad (the bad guy who usurped the Sultan's throne), Fruitcake Freddie (who _really_ likes Licorice Lad), Tommy the Terrible Troll, and Gumdrop Guy, and places like Licorice Loch, the Soda Sea, the Marshmallow Marsh, and the Peppermint Forest (where Candy Canes grow), I wasn't sure what movie I was reading. "The Wizard of Oz?" "Alice in Wonderland?" Something starring Shirley Temple? As usual, Andrew has written a tight, highly detailed, and imaginative story. Unlike usual, this story has a real plot, development, fantastically overblown caricatures for characters, and many twists and turns. Like, is Fruitcake Freddie a good guy or a bad guy? Will the Gingerman Autonomy movement figure in the big finale? Will Ms. Matilda Brunswald, Affidavit Al, Ms. Wilma Writ, and Glenda Guilty, the folks from Child Protective Services, actually catch the girls before they can put the real Sultan back on the throne? And what about Tommy the Troll's candification machine? Will the girls escape before it turns them into candy, trapping them in Candyland forever? Also as usual, the young girls are bared in public more than proper decorum would allow. Unlike a regular Andrew Roller story, I didn't notice a single instance of a bottom getting reddened by a paddling, deserved or not. Nor did I see any _S.E.X._ (At least, not by the 3/4 point. I won't say whether there is or is not any of either in the last quarter of the story. That would spoil the tension.) This is definitely not a normal Andrew Roller offering. Then again, this is definitely not a normal a.s.s. story. I liked it. I liked it a whole lot, despite the lacks mentioned above. This is fun stuff, what with Bambi wearing one of Katie's bikinis, one that's two sizes too small, one she keeps falling out of. Titillation and wild and wacky goings-on make this a good story. After all, where else can you go paddling about with six-year-old Pauline Praline on a giant orange popsicle on the Sea of Cream and pick up ice cream cones with rainbow sprinkles on them as they go floating by? This is another long story (350k). Ratings for "Bikini Brigade": Technical merit: 9.5 Plot and character: 10 Appeal to reviewer: 10I seriously doubt that all adult-child sexual relationships are as destructive as some child advocacy people would have us believe; but I also think that most real-life adult-child sexual relationships are exploitative. I cannot conclude without mentioning one important issue. I think we need to let kids be kids. In recent years, movies and TV shows (especially the soaps) have combined with peer pressure to urge kids to rush into adulthood way too fast. An important part of the mother's logic in this story was that if Brenda didn't have sexual relations with Richard, she'd be having sex with someone else real soon. To the extent that her insight is accurate, her decision to permit sex with Richard may be valid. But might it not be better to find a way to encourage kids to grow up before they have sexual relations? As I understand it, something like 25-40% of kids in the Western world don't have sex until they are at least 18 years old. Granted, a bunch of these people have major hang-ups; but statistically they're OK people. If I may use myself as a case study, I think I really do all right sexually, even though I had a full childhood before I began my active sex life; and I THINK the same can be said of my daughters. Sexuality isn't the only area in which we tend to push kids too fast; I constantly see parents trying to push preschoolers into academic programs when they should be playing games or reading Little Red Riding Hood. Ooops! {For an explanation of this Ooops, see the review of "The Better To...." later in this issue.} Let's let kids be kids! I like stories that raise thought-provoking questions in interesting contexts. This story does exactly that. Ratings for "Brenda - A Love Story" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 * "Adrienne a la Mode" by Cynthia ([email protected]). Guest review by BluePencil. A respected writer in another genre once said that plot ideas were one of the easiest things to come by; it was turning them into a good story that required hard work. Unfortunately, this is one of the hardest things for aspiring writers to absorb. Far too often they feel the need for an exotic plot, locale, or characters. In alt.sex.stories, this often translates into people with unlikely physical measurements and unusual athletic attainments making love with each other, assorted relatives, and the occasional polar bear while riding the roller coaster in their local amusement park. I'm exaggerating slightly, perhaps - they probably wouldn't all fit in the roller coaster. Perhaps the bumper cars. There are at least two sorts of problems with this type of story: First, it's usually a little hard to suspend your disbelief enough to forget that it _is_ a story (if not, you and your dearest are probably scheduled for one or more daytime talk shows in the near future). Second, and far more irritating for the writer, is that if your story is discussed at all it won't be for your masterful plotting, your command of the language, or even your well-crafted sex scenes. Instead, people will remember it as "the one where the bald-headed woman got it on with a camel in a pool of lime jello." Irritating, unless you are willing to take this as a tribute to your memorable characters. Fortunately, there are writers out there, however rare, who are willing to bypass the easy tricks and work at their craft. And even, amazingly, post the results to alt.sex.stories. Adrienne is a teacher. Tim is her businessman lover, who has trouble leaving his work totally behind, even for an evening with the woman he loves. She sets out to distract him. What happens? Does she arouse his interest, or at least his libido? Does she succeed in driving work from his mind? And does she get what she wants in the end? Read the story. Really. Cynthia has taken the familiar elements of far too many ordinary stories and transmuted them as thoroughly as coal into diamond. This is one of the best written, believable, and appealing stories I have read on this newsgroup in the past few months. I don't recall seeing any of Cynthia's stories before; I'd like to thank Slowhand Luke for posting this one for her. I hope that it is the first of many. Ratings for "Adrienne a la Mode" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot and character): 10 BluePencil (appeal to reviewer): 10 * "Boarding Pass" by Cynthia ([email protected]). Guest review by Dart. A couple, each with a career to pursue, may find it difficult to arrange their schedules in order to be together. She travels, he travels: but with luck their paths cross frequently enough that their physical need for each other gets satisfied. Well, for Tim and Adrienne, luck has recently been eluding them. They're desperate for each other, but they're on their way to the airport, since she has a plane to catch. And their ministrations during the drive only have the effect of heightening their mutual frustration. They arrive at the airport fifteen minutes before her boarding call, fifteen minutes to spend together. At the gate, he rubs her shoulders, trying to ease her tension, soften their parting. It doesn't work. They kiss; they rub; they get stared at. Fifteen minutes later, she boards her flight a very happy frequent flyer. You'll have to read the story to discover their innovative solution - innovative and a little improbable. At least, I wouldn't have had the courage to implement it. This is a nicely written and nicely paced story. What I most liked about the story, other than the couple's daring of course, was their affection for each other. Ratings for "Boarding Pass" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Dart (appeal to reviewer): 9 * "Virgin (On the Ridiculous)" by Jordan Shelbourne ([email protected]). Larry and Tara are roommates. They have a chaste relationship; no sex - they just live together. Tara has a boyfriend named Cliff who doesn't want to deflower a virgin. He says it's too important a decision to make in the heat of passion, and he doesn't want to hurt Tara. So Tara concludes that if Larry would make love to her just once, then she wouldn't be a virgin anymore; and then Cliff will be willing to boink her. As the title says, this is verging on the ridiculous; but it's quite enjoyable. I won't tell you more about this delightful story. You should read it yourself. It's like a really good episode of "Three's Company" (if such an oxymoron is possible) - except that this time "Two's Company." Although literary critics would possibly classify this as farce, it contains gems of wisdom, like this one: "I hate waiting to dry my hands under those blowers, and you know, it's ten times worse if you're holding up a drunk who's drying his hands." The story is a wonderful combination of sweet, sexy, and hilarious. Ratings for "Virgin (On the Ridiculous)" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 * "Lawyers in Love" by A. Van Peebles ([email protected]). Q. How many lawyers does it take to screw in a light bulb? A. Just two. Most lawyers will screw anywhere. But it may be hard for them to get inside the light bulb. That joke has nothing to do with this story (except it's about lawyers), but humor and social commentary are important components of these reviews. This is one of the best stories involving lesbian love that I have ever read. If someone wanted to write a textbook chapter on how an older woman who identifies herself as a lesbian should begin a romantic relationship with a younger person confused about her sexual identity, this story would provide a good foundation. While realistically portraying the feelings of Kate and Becky, this story avoids such pitfalls as stereotyping people as gays or straights and exploiting a vulnerable young woman who is confused about life. The story doesn't use gimmicks to turn us on. I have never been involved in a relationship like the one described here, but as I read the story I could REMEMBER these things happening to me. What I mean by that is that the author presented the story line so plausibly and authentically that I found myself identifying with the characters and saying to myself, "Yeah, that's the way it was." An important comment that I want to add is that the story was so well written that when I was near the middle of the story and Becky in her drunken stupor first kissed Kate, at least two endings would have been perfectly plausible and acceptable. First, Becky could have realized the value of a lesbian lifestyle for herself and entered into a relationship with Kate. Alternatively, Becky could have found the relationship with Kate to be fulfilling, but could have continued to seek an even more fulfilling relationship with someone else - perhaps with Peter. (Other endings would also be possible and emotionally acceptable.) While reading this story, I was reminded of events and fantasies in my own life. As I point out in my FAQ, I lead a monogamous heterosexual lifestyle, yet I happily admit to enjoying and being turned on by the activities and emotions expressed in this story about a lesbian relationship. I mention this because I think it is important to stress that while sexual identity is obviously important, it is also sensible to avoid premature or inaccurate labeling. I think it is important that people (especially young people) avoid labeling themselves as "gay," "straight," or "bisexual" based on fantasies or isolated experiences. When I was young, I had trouble relating to guys and found myself thinking horny thoughts about other women. I even had a crush on a female teacher. As an adult, I have discovered that nearly all my female friends report similar feelings.In retrospect, I think my feelings occurred because I was shy (or perhaps socially inept) around boys - nearly all of whom were assholes at that time anyway, while the girls with whom I participated in sports seemed to me to be mature, sexy creatures whose breasts bounced enticingly when I was with them in the showers and locker rooms. I had access to two highly competent persons at the time (known as parents) who noticed my reactions and convinced me that I was normal - even though they never gave me a specific lecture about it. I think it would have been foolish for me to have concluded at that time that I "was" lesbian. Even now, sexy women turn me on. The cosmetic companies count on them to do so; otherwise I would never buy that overpriced stuff they put into bottles and other containers. I recently had an orgasm while I was alone and watching a woman masturbate in a porn film. I also got turned on while reading the sexy lesbian scenes in this story. I don't think either of these admissions make it sensible to say that I "am" bisexual today. I have selected heterosexual monogamy as my lifestyle, and I feel good about it. Because of this choice, I'll never have an opportunity to make passionate love to a sexy woman; but I see no conflict in enjoying a good story about someone else doing so. The label "heterosexual" is also detrimental, but in a more subtle way (because it is more socially accepted in the culture that surrounds me). I enjoy playing with myself. I enjoy it when my husband fondles, kisses, licks, etc. my genitals (or practically anything else, for that matter). By what grotesque stretch of logic am I supposed to believe that it would be UNenjoyable to have a sensitive female partner play with me instead? I'm not going to do it; but that's because of a lifestyle choice (called marriage), not because it would be anything but intensely satisfying to have a luscious little beauty tongue my clitoris while I felt her juices drip across my face as I buried my face in her pussy. Do I think that reading and enjoying stories about hot lesbian love is likely to "make" me a lesbian? No, I don't. I DO think these stories make it more likely that if something would happen to my present relationship with my husband (for example, if he would die) I would be more likely to consider a lesbian relationship afterwards; but if I were a betting person, I'd still bet on my finding a good man for my next relationship. I guess what I'm saying is that good erotic fiction should and does have an effect on readers; but to the extent that it's realistic and readers have their heads on straight, this is not really a problem. If readers don't have their heads on straight or if the stories give a well written but distorted view of reality, I think such stories can and do cause problems. Back to the story. The first two-thirds of the story was about the development of the relationship and contained no sex, and while I read it I thought that maybe the extreme objectivity of the author's style might make the eventual sex scene less than interesting. Not to worry! This is a really good story, and I hope to see more writing by this author. Ratings for "Lawyers in Love": Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 Ratings for "Kate and Me": Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 "Kate and Me: Friendship Spilled Over" by The Bear. {Note from Celeste: We have two authors who call themselves The Bear. The author of this story I shall call The Old Bear. As far as I know, he has not posted in a long time; and his stories tended to be sensitive treatments of sex between young adolescents and older partners. The New Bear does not write stories that touch even close to pedophile behavior. His stories are about sex in general.} How would I feel if my own intelligent and sensitive daughter fell deeply in love with a close friend of the family when she was 16 and he was 35? Would I be upset if they began making passionate and frequent love to one another? Yes, I guess I would be upset. But this is a story about exactly that, and it's a beautiful story. The author focuses on romance; he doesn't fool around with the formulas and rituals that so often appear in the hot sex stories. I love sexy stories that are based on something other than the cuteness of a person's ass or the size of his sex organ. Nevertheless, the sex is really hot - because it is so passionate and because we understand the reasons behind what the lovers are doing. Anyone who has been deeply in love and has wanted to do something that was obviously right but was also obviously wrong will understand the emotions expressed in this story. The author develops an atmosphere in which he mixes the moral ambiguity with the passion the two lovers feel for each other. This is a really well written, outstanding story. Ratings for "Kate and Me": Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 "A Cold Day in Hell" by Delta (delta*@bc.sympatico.ca). Miller is an electronics repairman. He just wants to be left alone. His one true love has gone away, and he doesn't want to take chances again. It's not that life has no meaning: it's just that the meaning comes from the feeling of triumph when a piece of broken electronic equipment springs back to life. Then he finds a homeless young woman and brings her home - not for sex, but simply because he just couldn't leave her there on the street. You can probably figure out where this story is going, but it's still very interesting to see how Delta gets us there. Besides, you might be surprised! This is a long, good story with very little sex. But the long, good part of the story makes the short, erotic part very sexy.	null	null	Authors/Celestial_Reviews/1997/243-Dec_17.txt
77,535	Scipio	The Assignment	You've seen me around campus, and we've made eye contact, but nothing more. So when I walk out of the elevator in the library, you smile as I look at you. I smile in return, and you resume your studying. We share a management class, so you know I'm here for the position paper we all have due at the end of the week. Returning to your notes, you lose sight of me. You look around for the book that your notes mention, but it's not on the desk with you. You study your notes again and get the reference number. As you gaze up at the stacks, you quickly realize it's only a few shelves away, in the corner behind you. You find the shelf, and as you reach for the book, you feel me, close to you, closer than I've ever been. You can smell my cologne and feel my presence, the heat of my body washing over you. You freeze at the shelf, hand on the book, wondering what I'll do. "You're so beautiful," I murmur in your ear, nipping at your earlobe. "And you know it." You're becoming afraid now, afraid because my closeness is starting to heat you up. And afraid of what I might do. You feel my hands on your hips, and the contact sends an electric shock through your body. You're thrilled and scared at once. I slowly run my hands up your sides, lifting the thin, ribbed cotton of your shirt. You feel the cool air of the library on your trim stomach, and you shudder. You're not wearing a bra, and you know that if I continue upward, your breasts will spring free. Yet you cannot stop me. You tremble again as I move my hands around and slide them under your shirt, cupping your breasts. You don't want them to, but your nipples betray you, hardening in my hands. I kiss your neck, and then up to your ear. "You have a wonderful body," I whisper. "I get hard in class, thinking about you. Did you know that?" You shake your head, and I squeeze your breasts, kneading your nipples. You whimper involuntarily, and I strip your shirt over your shoulders in one smooth motion, an eye-blink of time and you're topless. You can feel the moisture building in your pussy as you realize that anyone could walk by and see us. You feel my hands return to your breasts, tugging on your nipples again. I press my erection into you, and you can feel it through my pants. "If you're a good girl, I'm going to come for you," I say quietly, darting my tongue into your ear. "I'm going to use you, right here in the library. I'm going to fill you with my come; my hot, white come, and you're going to love it. Won't you?" You nod, shakily, beyond thought or reason. "I'm going to use you, to use your body. You want to be used, don't you, Mel?" You nod again, breath coming in ragged gasps as your arousal grows. My hands leave your breasts, and the cool air of the library comes as a shock. You feel me lift your skirt, exposing your panties, and then I run my fingers under the waistband. "Don't move," I say quietly. You tremble, unable to see what I'm doing. I pull your panties over your ass, your lovely ass, and tug them down your legs. As the cool air bathes your sex, you quiver, half in desire, half in fear. I put my hand on the small of your back and slide your panties down over your legs until you can step out of them. "First," I say, rising and putting my lips against your ear, "I'm going to use your mouth. I'm going to fuck your mouth, and you're going to swallow. Aren't you?" You nod quickly, licking your lips in anticipation and then trying to suppress the urge you feel within you. You hear the ominous sound of my zipper, and you know I've just released my cock. "Get on your knees," I say, the note of command in my voice irresistible. You quickly comply and are faced with my erection. The tip of my cock is already leaking pre-come, and you know, know in your heart, that you want to suck me. You want to be used. You are my toy. You feel my hand on the back of your head, and you open your lips. In a moment, my cock slides across your tongue. Instead of stopping, however, I grip your head with both hands and shove my length into your mouth, into your throat. You take me all the way, your nose parting my fly and bumping against my boxers. When I stop shoving my cock in your mouth, you automatically clamp your lips around my girth. I'm thick, and I fill your mouth completely. When I withdraw my cock, I pull it completely out of your mouth, and you whimper. Now your desire is as great as my own, and you want me. You need me. You have to have me fucking your mouth. "Close your mouth," I order. When you do, I slap your lips with my engorged member. You want to cry out, to beg me to let you suck me. I slap you again and rub your saliva and my pre-come over your lips. "Open." The one word is an order. You comply. I slide my cock over your tongue again, stopping with just the tip in your mouth. "Suck." You do, sucking my glans, feeling me grow harder in your mouth. Finally, I relinquish my hold on your head and let you bob back and forth, tasting my length and the tangy saltiness of my escaping fluids. Suddenly, I'm gripping your head again and forcing myself into your mouth. My hands over your ears, I begin to thrust my cock in and out of your mouth. You know I'm going to come soon, you can feel it. Your pussy is on fire, you love being used by me, being my plaything, knowing I'm going to come for you. For you. In you. Over you. I pull back, and you can tell I'm close to coming. You catch the scent of my semen as the first spurt washes over your tongue. It's hot and salty and sliding down your throat. I move one hand from your head to the base of my shaft, stroking myself, forcing more come into your mouth. You swallow once, then again, filled to overflowing by my seed. When I've finished, I pull myself from your lips. "Show me." You open your mouth and tilt your head back. Your mouth is empty, and you can feel my hot semen still, smell the tangy scent of my seed. "Close your mouth," I order again. I milk my cock one last time, releasing a drop of semen. I rub it against your closed lips, smearing you with my juice. You love the feeling of my cock on your skin, coating you with my come. I rub it all around your mouth and then slap your lips with my still-erect member. "Stand up," I order, pulling you abruptly to your feet. "Do you want to come?" I ask you, twisting your nipples and making you squirm. You nod immediately. "Say it." You look at me blankly, and I squeeze your nipples again, pulling them away from your chest. "Say it!" My voice is low but intense. "I want to come. Make me come, please," you beg. My cock is still hard, and I spin you to face the rows of books. I move behind you and lift your skirt again. My hands on your hips, I pull you against me. You arch your back and press your ass against my erection. I grasp my cock and rub it against your pussy. You are wet, and I know you've enjoyed swallowing my come. Now, you know what I'm going to do. You want me to. But I tease you, rubbing the head of my engorged prick against your sex, spreading your leaking fluids. Your pussy lips are covered in your juices by now, and you ache to have my thick cock inside you. "You want it?" I ask, sawing my prick against your slit. You nod and begin to tremble with desire. "Say it." You know what I want this time. "Fuck me, please," you whimper, lust making your voice hoarse and breathy. I tease you again, rubbing against you, and you begin to despair. The heat in your pussy is almost unbearable, and there's a hole within you that needs to be filled. Filled with my cock. Your belly aches with the need to feel my dick, to have me inside you. I finally relent, and with a gentle thrust, I'm inside you. Your shaved pussy spreads around my cock, gripping me with your heat. I'm thick, and you're very tight, but you don't care. I'm spreading you open with my girth, impaling you. You shiver as you feel me against your ass, and I grip your hips. Without a word, without warning, I am fucking you. I thrust into you from behind, pulling your hips back and bending you over.You brace yourself with your arms against the shelf in front of you, taking my thrusts, rocking back and forth as I pound into you. You know I've just come recently, you can still taste me, still smell me on your lips. So you know I'm going to be fucking you for a while. Someone, anyone, could come along and catch us. I don't seem to care, and you're too lost in the feeling of my cock filling your pussy. You feel your orgasm welling up as I thrust into you, spreading your shaven lips with each thrust. With a low moan, you come. I feel your pussy gush around me and you clench up, trying to keep my pounding member within you. I don't relent, and keep fucking you through your orgasm. You're ready to collapse, but my strong hands on your hips hold you in place. Hold you in place for my relentless assault. I reach around and cup your breasts, pulling and twisting your nipples. I use them, use your pussy, use you. Squeezing your breasts, I pull myself deeper into you, until you fear my thick cock is going to split you apart. You feel another orgasm welling up, boiling over, and you know I'm not going to stop for this one either. I continue to pound into you, now seating myself firmly in your pussy, buried to the hilt with each thrust. With another half-muffled moan, you come again. Your pussy clutches at me, at my invading member, and waves of pleasure wash over you. Once again, I continue to thrust into you, my cock hammering at your pussy. Two quick orgasms behind you, your clit is now throbbing. As I bore into you, spreading your pussy lips with each thrust, they rub against your fully-exposed button of nerves, against your clit. You feel another orgasm welling up, a big one this time, and you can tell that I'm getting close too. I knead your breasts and you begin to thrust back against me, driving my desire to new heights. Your orgasm slowly builds, and you begin to panic, fearing I won't come when you do. You fear I'll come too soon, and fill you with my hot seed before your release. "Are you going to come for me?" I ask, my voice husky with emotion. You nod wordlessly. "Are you going to come for me?" I repeat, forcefully. You nod again, feeling the truth of your answer building inside you. "Then come for me," I hiss, ramming my length deep into your depths. I feel your pussy spasm around me as my first spurt begins to fill your pussy. You can't help yourself, and a low, tearing moan escapes your lips as the pleasure washes over you. You feel your chest and face flush, and know that your pussy is gripping me fiercely. You can feel my spurts inside you, competing against the strength of your pussy. Your pussy squeezes my erection, which forces more of my semen deep into your belly. You're shuddering with the release, hips quaking against me. I can feel the heat in your breasts and I know it's a good one. A powerful orgasm. When you are done, you almost collapse. My hands, and my hard cock, still impaled in your quivering pussy, are all that hold you up. Your breath comes in ragged gasps and you can feel the sheen of sweat covering your face and neck. I hold myself inside you, slowly softening, while I gently knead your breasts, being careful to avoid your suddenly sensitive nipples. Slowly, oh so slowly, I withdraw myself from your depths. You hiss as the cool air washes over your pussy, wet with our combined fluids. "Clean me off," I say. My voice compels you, and you find you want to obey me. You drop to your knees and devour my slowly shrinking cock, sucking and licking, hoping I will get harder in your mouth and come for you again. You quickly have me clean, and I pull you off my cock. "Close your mouth," I order again. When you do, I smack your lips with my dick. You start, and I do it again. I reach down to lift you, retrieving your panties and thin t-shirt as I do. Then I pull you close, kissing you. My tongue darts into your mouth and you melt against me. My shirt brushes your sensitive nipples and you shudder again. I break the kiss and look into your eyes. You slowly focus on me and realize that I am smiling. I kiss you again and you respond against me, my lips insistent. With my hand on your ass, I pull you to me so you can feel my semi-erect cock bump against you. "I'll see you in class on Friday," I say softly. You wonder where I'll be on Wednesday, and begin to panic. I shake my head and grin wickedly at you. I lean close to you, and you can smell my cologne again, mixed with the scent of my desire, so recently sated. "When I see you in class on Friday," I say, my lips close enough to your ear that you can feel my breath, "I want you to tell me how many times you masturbated while you were thinking about me. If you're a good girl, a very good girl, next time, I'll come three times for you." "And maybe," I say with a mischievous wink, "I'll fuck you the old fashioned way, and let you see my face as I fill you with my come." With that, I release you. I hold your panties in front of you so you can see them; then I shove them in my pocket. You watch every motion as I tuck the last bit of fabric into my pants and then stare into my eyes. I slowly put my cock back in my pants, never breaking eye contact with you. I put my hands on your face and kiss you one last time, tenderly this time, longingly. "Masturbate for me," I command. Overwhelmed, you nod. "I'll be waiting. Friday," I say quietly. And with that, I am gone.	null	null	Authors/scipio/shortstories/Assignment.txt
78,423	Old-Softy	The Life Cycle of the Lesser Blue Fairy	You don't believe in fairies? This one could change your life forever. DISCLAIMER: This work of fiction contains sexual situations not suitable for children. It may not be reproduced in any way where readers are charged for it. Copyright reserved. Chapter One - Caterpillar In which we introduce our hero. The larval stage is in many ways the most active, and superficially interesting. 10.09 Saturday 8th May 2004 Today, I started this log. Because I just have to record the strange thing that's going on. Like some fantasy film. Or science fiction, or some other weird stuff. I think I've got an alien. It started with the blue egg. Old Uncle Mike sent it to me. I mean, what do you think when the UPS boy delivers a small brown cardboard box you are not expecting, and it turns out to be from a great-uncle you haven't seen in seven years? For a start, I had been told he was dead, but - well, that's the least strange thing. Inside was lots of polystyrene chips, and a section torn off an egg box, but taped together because the thing in it was too big to fit. It's not here now, so I should record what it was like. About 3 in. long, oval shape. Slightly warm and resilient to the touch - I got the feeling that if I had dropped it, it would have bounced, not smashed. Not that I tried, of course - it was too beautiful. Glassy, translucent, mostly blue, but I could see colors shifting inside it when I stared. This is what happened. I had taken it in my study to open, and got it out of the tape and stuff. I was just holding it in my hand, trying to make out the patterns, when it started to get warm, and then buzz, or vibrate. I was about to put it down when suddenly it split. I suppose that is quite like an egg. But a small ball of blue light shot out, and went up to the corner of the ceiling. All the other contents just went up in a small cloud, like blue smoke, and that slowly dispersed, leaving just the two empty egg shell halves. I've got them here on the desk in front of me as I type, and they are very thin, like glass but strong, almost clear but with a blue tinge. But this is the thing. I think the blue light is alive. When I went over to the corner where it was and looked up, it skipped over to the other corner, then dived behind the curtains. We played hide and seek for a bit, for five minutes before I sat down at my desk to try and think this out. And then it came out and hovered behind me - I could see it in the reflection of the monitor. I moved over and sat back in my armchair, pretending not to see it, and it followed. It seems to be curious about me, but also very - shy? 12.23 Sunday 9th May 2004 I've been singing to my light ball. I will have to give it a name, but I can't decide on one. I think female, although I'm not sure why. It is in the study, of course. I have been careful to keep the door shut, and I cannot see how it could get out, but I was not sure if it was in there, hiding somewhere, or if it had just evaporated. I like my study, it is my favorite room, but it has lots of bookcases and shelves, to say nothing of some odd furniture (can't ignore my jukebox!) so there are a lot of places to hide. I was humming an old Beatles song, as I was doing my filing - I really had forgotten about the light ball, I wasn't pretending this time - and suddenly I heard it buzzing along in tune. When I sneaked a look, it was bobbing up and down in time. I have to get its confidence somehow, so I can study it. 20.16 Tuesday 11th May 2004 It likes honey. It sips honey from the edge of my teaspoon (As a treat I have honey in coffee instead of sugar) and now it seems to trust me. It comes and hovers just above my keyboard - I don't know if it's looking at me or the screen. Maybe both at once? Who can say with small blue balls of light? And it hums to me, even when I'm not singing. 23.17 Thursday 13th May 2004 I haven't told anyone about this - in fact I'm feeling a bit protective of my little alien. She is so cute, so friendly, that the thought of scientists poring over her fills me with horror. So I guess this log is important. I will try and record every thing that happens. And I haven't told Celia. I am spending more and more time in my den - fortunately it's the one room she never wants to see, not since I won the fights ages ago about her coming in and tidying up in here. I think she thinks I read porn in here. Well, to be honest, I used to. There was this ace website called asstr.org., although I haven't been there for ages. I guess the magic goes out of any marriage after a while. Although for us it was rather quick - we've only been married three years, and perhaps there wasn't that much there to start with. It's not that we fight much. And she's okay looking, if a bit - mousy? Tallish, brunette, quite slim, but not much in the way of tits. Well, I'm no superman. In hindsight, the trouble was we both went out with each other because no one else would. And then we talked ourselves into the rest of it because it would have been just too sad to admit the truth. That, in the end, we are each about as good as either of us was ever going to get. I must have fancied her once, although I cannot quite remember why. She is good company, she tries to look after me, and she puts up with my jokes. But... well, I don't suppose I deserve any more. So - she hangs around with unbrushed hair in a shell suit and reads lots of Mills and Boon. And I spend hours in my den and don't tell her what I do here. 11.23 Saturday 15th May 2004 She's not an alien. She's a fairy. Or a very fairy-shaped alien. You know, those little sparkly ones from Fantasia, that did the autumn colors to leaves, and put frost on ponds, and danced around in mid-air. Yeah, I thought they were pretty hot too when I was a kid, and once I even had a guilty wank over the video. It was when she ate the eggshell. Or absorbed it. She settled on the shells as a little ball of light, and ten minutes later when I glanced over, I could see the distinct outline of a fairy through the light. Now, it's as clear as anything, although she still glows almost as much, and the shells have disappeared. She's not bouncing around much, so I think she must be tired. I'm going to leave her alone for a bit to recover. 15.46 Saturday 15th May 2004 Tinkerbell eat your heart out! My alien is just beautiful. Still glowing, but now in the classic fairy form. Let me describe her. About three inches tall, perfect human female shape; well, perhaps a bit slim for my tastes, with more a teenager's figure than a woman's. The breasts are there; small, but as they say perfectly formed (I was very careful to check that out); two pairs of dragonfly wings coming out between her shoulder blades; short curly hair; diamond-bright tiny blue eyes, and a smile. What a smile. She really does like me! 21.35 Sunday 16th May 2004 Now she really has her energy back, and flits around, singing and twirling, grinning and teasing. She is so fast. We play this game where I pretend to swat her, and I've stopped pretending - there is no chance I could hit her anyway, she is so quick. She laughs at my efforts. I must seem such a big clumsy lump to a little creature of light like her. But she hangs on my every movement, and shows no sign of being bored. I have decided to call her Ariel. She recognizes her name already! 22.16 Monday 17th May 2004 This girl is such a flirt. As she hovers, she twists or leans to display herself, and runs her hands over her glowing skin - maybe her legs, or her stomach, or even her tiny breasts. She just loves that I can't tear my eyes off her. Every now and then I would pretend to be offended and turn away, and she would flit in front of me to hang her head and pretend to be sorry. 22.50 Tuesday 18th May 2004 What a tease! She has somehow worked out which poses and actions get to me, and was putting on such a porn show today. Maybe she is interested in human sexuality? What she was doing wasn't a game anymore, it was getting really hot, and I just had to leave. I admit I went straight up to the bathroom for a wank. Best release I've had for ages. Is it really that long since I've enjoyed sex? I suppose I really ought to do something more exciting with Celia, but I can't face the battle these days. The funny thing is, in a quiet sort of way, Celia could be quite pretty. She has a nice face when she smiles. (Yeah, and when did that last happen?) Her figure is boyish, if you like that sort of thing, and although her boobs are hardly spectacular, they are a nice shape - not that I often get a chance to inspect. I suppose there was a time when the thought of climbing into bed next to her must have been a thrill, but for the life of me I can't remember it. 22.08 Wednesday 19th May 2004 She let me touch her! She was sitting on the edge of the keyboard, legs spread out and parted in front of her, and when I brought my hand up close she didn't flit away as usual. I just touched her foot with the tip of my index finger and she stayed put.When I really, really carefully slid it up her leg, she smiled at me and let me go right up to her - well, I can't say "pussy" as she hasn't got one. Right up to where her legs join. That seemed to feel nice for her. She gave me a shit-eating grin, then hopped up for a buzz around the ceiling. By the way, she has no pussy or asshole or any sort of opening around there. She was so close and, unusually, so still, I could inspect it all. Why would she - what would she use them for? Her breasts do have tiny little nipples, though. I think we have made some sort of breakthrough here. Not only is she happy for me to touch her, now she touches me. It turns out she is really tactile - very happy with physical contact. Maybe it was just a confidence thing before. She doesn't float around or sit on things now - she sits on me. On my head, on my shoulder, and particularly on my hands. She is perching astride my left wrist as I type this and laughing as she clings on, as if my hand movements are the best form of fairground ride. And she loves being stroked. We spent a happy hour after supper, with me sitting in my armchair, left hand on the arm of the chair and Ariel laying back in the palm of my hand. With my other forefinger, I just stroked her gently, softly and rhythmically, covering every bit of her little glowing body. I am afraid I paid most attention to the areas you would expect of a dirty old sod like me - her breasts just move so nicely - and the bottom half of her torso. I think I am in love with her tight little stomach. She seemed to like it as much wherever I went, though, and to be fair, I did cover every little bit of her. She buzzed and wriggled just as much when I was running my finger up the outside of her arm, as when I was stroking the inside of her legs. I think they are a bit bigger than I remember, but I suppose you would expect the breasts to grow. And maybe her hips and buttocks, you know, the general stuff you get when a girl changes into a woman. Now I wish I had taken photographs earlier - it is difficult for me to remember her exact shape from before. I took some photos, and now I have got them back from the chemists, they are a real disappointment. All you see is a blue haze, like it's locally overexposed, in her position. It's as if her presence fogs the film or something. I think I ought to be more careful in my descriptions in this log. Perhaps I will start taking measurements. I'm afraid I did a bit of a naughty today. She was lying back in my left hand, enjoying her stroking. Her writhing and giggling as I fondled her was just so sexy, I couldn't help pull out the old man, and give it a stroke or two as well. After all, she's not human, she probably doesn't know what it is. And I am ashamed to admit I got carried away all too quickly, spurting all over my hand. But this is the weird bit, she loved it. As soon as she saw what happened, she leapt down, and hovered over my fingers, licking and sucking it all off! I ended up holding my hand up for her, while she circled around it like a hummingbird. It was just so sexy watching her hovering and hoovering my nasty old spunk with so much enthusiasm, as if it was the most delicious stuff ever invented. I almost jerked off a second time, but managed to exercise a bit of self-control. I'm having sex with a four-inch fairy. It would be ridiculous if it wasn't so wonderful. We've fallen into a pattern; I do a few chores, get the accounts out of the way or whatever. She hovers around provocatively, trying harder and harder to get my attention. Sometimes she perches on the top of the jukebox, like a model on a car bonnet, or she might hang from the top of that Kandinsky print, facing out, and swinging her long legs about, or she might be literally hovering, trying out some upside-down aerial maneuvers. (You can guess what they display). Whatever she does, it's always hot. She's got a lot of moves from a stripper I saw once, although I can't imagine how. One day I was reminded of that girl (the stripper) when Ariel was twirling, and couldn't help comparing them in my mind. The next day, she (Ariel) was using all those moves, as if she wanted to be sure there was no competition. But how did she get to know them? Just one more mystery. Anyway, when I can't stand it any more (and how long I resist varies, too) I hold out my hand to her and she throws herself at it, and sort of wraps herself in my fingers with little squeals and buzzes of delight. Then we spend the next twenty or thirty minutes pleasuring her, touching and stroking her in every place and in every way. She is so responsive and so appreciative that I could do it forever. As she gets more worked up, the pitch of her buzzing gets higher, and I just love driving her into greater and greater frenzy. But it always ends the same way. At some stage, my cock gets so demanding I just have to get it out, and she throws herself at it, so now I'm handling her as she clings to my penis, rubbing herself all over it. Her favorite position is hanging from the underside, her head up over the end kissing and licking my helmet, with her arms wrapped over the top of the head, and her legs crossed over the shaft. Sometimes she gets her fingers actually in the little opening, which feels really wild. I just hold all of her in both hands, and masturbate myself with her body. I'm afraid that as I get more excited, I grip her really quite hard as I rub her up and down, but she seems to be pretty tough and just grabs hold tighter herself. Eventually, of course, I explode all over her head and my fingers. Initially, I was scared I might drown her, but I can see there is no chance of that. (In fact, I'm not completely sure that she really needs to breathe, although she does do it most of the time.) She goes into a frantic session of sucking, licking and gulping until there is nothing left. I've noticed that even when there is some jism on her body in out-of-the-way places, it disappears, as if it was absorbed. She really loves the stuff. I'm afraid I've upset Celia. Without really meaning to, I've skipped our sex session for two Saturday nights now. I should explain. We never did it that often, even when we were just dating and experimenting. Well, there never was much experimenting, to be honest. Once I worked out a way of doing it that she liked, we seem to have stuck to just that pattern. Basically, I go on top, and when I've finished my business, I roll off her and rub her with my hand, you know, around her button. It doesn't take long. After all, if you are in the mood, friction in a round hole is all it takes for a man. Sometimes I come almost at once. And once I had worked out the finger movements, she never took long either. We do it every Saturday. No other time, but we have never missed one either. Well, until now. Even when I wasn't feeling much like it (say I'd had a wank the day before), I would mount her, and have a go, even if I had to pretend at the end. You think men can't fake it? Think again. I mean, I would have to get stiff, of course. But I could usually bring up some picture of the last naked babe I had been staring at, that always worked. The trouble would always be the worry of not keeping it going long enough, and sometimes it was easier just to jerk up and down a bit, then groan and take it out. How is she going to know? Anyway, last Saturday, I just forgot. I suppose I am just so wrapped in Ariel these days. And this Saturday, I remembered, but I had just finished this fantastic session with my favorite fairy, and I knew there was no way I was going to get it up, never mind pretend to be doing anything useful. So I pretended to have a headache. Yes, I know, pathetic. I think she was really hurt. Our bed is pretty big, and she rolled over to the far side and just lay there, facing away, as far from me as she could get and not be on the floor. I felt such a heel, but I hadn't realised those little sessions meant that much to her. Oh well, I will just have to be extra nice during the week. Maybe some flowers when I get home on Monday night? Ariel has got bigger. I haven't made an entry to this log for days, and I realize she has changed a lot since last time. Not only larger, but also more grown up. She must be about six inches tall now, and has the figure of a full woman. Not any woman, but the most fantastic babe you could imagine. She has also gained two little holes between her legs. Yes, a pussy and an asshole. I have no idea if they are real, but I suspect not. Of course, I have started touching her there, and she likes that as much as anywhere else. I can't get even the tip of my little finger in it, but it is fun to imagine fucking her with it. I think she puts on a show of liking it here for my benefit, but we always still end up the same way, and what actually makes her convulse, and really shriek, is me spurting over her while she desperately clings to my cock. Her wings have got smaller, and she has got - heavier. More solid. It's difficult to explain, but before, her skin and her body was slightly translucent, and glowed as if lit from the inside. That has faded, and now she seems quite real, just like any other ordinary object. Well, no, not object. Person. She is still blue, but it's just her skin color. Oddly, I have just realized her face looks a lot like Celia's. Weird, because she can't have ever seen her. Hardly the same figure though. Now she hardly flies at all, and when she does, she hovers quite slowly, without any of the zooming and flitting. It's more like a toy helicopter than a dragonfly - my little fairy is getting all grown up. The point is, how does she grow?She only eats honey and my spunk. I mean, even if she is magic, conservation of mass and all that should mean she can't get bigger and heavier without eating. God, what am I doing. Worrying about the laws of physics while a bright blue fairy prances around my keyboard. I have looked it up. Ejaculate actually has a lot of protein in it. Considering how much I come over her (and I know every single speck gets hoovered up) that probably is enough. It's weird to think that she is probably living, and growing, off just my spunk and a bit of honey. What hasn't changed, is how much she loves sex, being stroked, and above all, my jism. I think she's seriously addicted to it. I had this great idea, and went out and got Ariel some Barbie clothes. The corner shop on Arkwright Street had a blister pack with a little summer outfit - bright colored shorts, top and plastic high heeled sandals. She's about that size, now, perhaps eight inches tall, and she just loved them. She is such a woman - she loves putting them on, and then taking them off again. Particularly taking them off again. God she's so hot. Tomorrow I'm going to go out and see if I can get her some really sexy outfits. I can't believe what they sell to little girls to dress their dolls in. This stuff is pure porn! Forget Victoria's Secrets - if you want a quick cheap fix of sexy gear, take your Barbie doll down to your local toy store. I ended up with the jodhpur riding set, the lycra disco set, the beach one piece and bikini set, a lace nightie, and a bodice and g-string combo that made me blush when I handed it to the girl at the counter. Ariel is in seventh heaven and I managed to come all over her twice tonight. Ariel spoke to me! Well, in a way. I will have to explain. We have been playing this King Kong Game. She dresses up in something sexy but plausible, maybe hot secretary, or girl fallen off her horse, and runs around on the carpet. I play this big monster, and stomp around chasing her, while she screams in terror and loses bits of clothing as she falls over. Of course I always manage to stop her escaping, and eventually pick her up and slowly strip the remaining doll's clothes off her writhing body in my best King Kong manner. Then sometimes I lick her and pretend to get ready to eat her, or maybe I finger her and explore her little holes as if I had never seen them before. This time I had her stripped and wriggling deliciously in my left hand while I touched my right little finger to the little crease between her legs. And a feeling, almost a plea, in my head said "Push!" I just knew it was her. So I did. And as I did this peal of noise, of feeling, filled my head. I can't describe it, except that it in some way it expressed just what she was feeling. I kept pushing and my finger went right up inside her. I had to do whatever made that feeling happen. I was on my knees, holding her right in front of my face, and I could see the bulge of my finger inside her lower belly. I pushed and turned my digit until the feeling of bells changed to a squeak - I had found the edge of where to go. For the next few minutes I just kept moving it around, watching in amazement the shape of my finger pushing out her perfect little abdomen, and maximizing the ringing of the bells in my head. The noise grew and grew, the pressure building until my finger was in to the second knuckle, her distended body was twitching, she was staring right into my eyes, and - we orgasmed. I mean she did, but I felt it all. It was as if it was my body, being driven to the edge and finally climaxing. I held her until she stopped shuddering and twitching in my hand and then lowered my hand to hold her against my chest. For the first time ever, she was limp and spent. I sagged back onto the floor and noticed that I had sprayed cum all over my trouser knees and the carpet. After a few minutes I carefully and gently pulled my digit out of her, and stroked her side. She was softly buzzing, that familiar noise that was her equivalent of a purr, but now I could hear it, could feel it, inside me. She sat up, her arms around my hand, and looked up at me. I could feel the toasty warmth, the happiness of her afterglow, flood into my mind. Then she noticed the spunk spread all over the place. Hah, obviously some appetites don't change and I laughed as she dived down to suck up every drop. So now she talks, well no, "feels" to me. There is no conversation, no sentences or grammar. But lots of the time, when I am touching her, I get what she is feeling. And I know she gets me, probably has done for ages. This telepathy, if it is, explains a lot. You know how exactly perfect she is, and now I wonder if that might be because she has somehow grown into exactly what I think is the perfect shape. Not anyone else's, but just mine, picking up on my fantasies and thoughts. Yes, I know that sounds nuts, but what about the stripper moves? and what about her little cunt and asshole? I think they are there because I had wanted them to be. And as for sticking my finger in her - well you know how much I have wanted to fuck her in some way. Nuts? Just tell me that having sex with a tiny blue fairy isn't nuts and I'll try to be sceptical. I'm in love. Ariel and I, we are on the same wavelength now whenever we make love. It's so intoxicating, it's so unbelievable, it's so ridiculous, and I will do anything to protect it, us. I have however, taken care of Celia. I've told her I'm writing a story for a web site, to explain my hours in the den. And last night (Saturday) I did a really good job on her. First I visited Ariel in the morning and tried to explain - I think she got it. Then I stayed out of my den the rest of the day and by the evening I was able to give quite a satisfactory performance. I even tried to spice it up a little, by trying to get a finger actually inside Celia while I rubbed outside, but she shut me out with her knees, without a word. She obviously thinks it would be dirty for me to put my fingers in there, and yet, as always, she says nothing. I think if I actually talked to her about what we do, or just tried to speak while we were doing it, it would be worse than say, trying to stick it up her ass. But that's life. I have met her parents. It's not hard to see where her hang-ups came from so I can hardly blame her personally. She makes a decent housemate, I do actually like her most of the time, and it's not fair to abandon her just because I've found a soul mate in a little blue fantasy figure. As far as I can make out, Ariel is now completely human, solid and real. Just tiny, and blue. Her wings have dropped off, which makes it easier with the clothes. Although she is incredibly athletic, she seems to obey gravity like the rest of us. There is no glow to her even in the dark, and although I can't get enough of staring into her fantastic little eyes, I think the spark there is just the usual stuff of star-struck lovers. She has taken up a bed in a shoe box of cotton wool, which lives in the second shelf of the oak bookcase, next to the window where it is nice and sunny. She is showing more and more characteristics of your average human female. We are so happy. I am trying to think if there is any way I could to introduce her to Celia, so we could normalize our lives together. Who am I kidding? Celia would freak out at the first glimpse, and she is hardly the sort to accept a three-way thing, even with another ordinary woman. But on the other hand I can't ditch Celia. It would not be fair on her, and, well, I'm used to having her around. Forget the sex (easy to do) - I just would not like to live with anyone else. What am I going to do? I can hardly type. She's dead. She is dead, and I killed her. I have been crying for hours. I have to tell someone, and this log is the only place I can explain. She is dead, and it is my fault and if it had not been for my stupid, stupid crazy lust she would still be alright. Calm down. Start at the beginning. It started like many of our sexy sessions, with Ariel teasing me. She does such a good strip tease, dancing on top of the speaker case, just at eye level when I'm at my desk. Oh God, I've just written does. Did, not does. She used to do a good strip tease. How can she be past tense! What can I do? Start again. Strip tease on top of speaker. Me sitting at desk. I pick her up and while she slides around my fingers, I place her in my lap, and get my cock out. She starts rubbing herself on the tip, pushing the top of the head around between her legs. It feels fantastic, and I start getting her buzz, she is getting really turned on by the feel of my cock at her cunt lips, by the idea of it. And then she pushes the idea at me. That we can do it, you know, real fucking, the head of my cock in her actual cunt. She stands over it and drops down on it and begs me to hold her knees out. I can't help it, I help her get into the position, and amazingly her cunt lips seem to spread and spread and she has suckered herself over the top of my helmet. Then, I don't remember it very well, but I think it's a bit like a woman having a baby. The front of the pelvis dislocates in a special way, and her legs move apart, and she's hanging onto my thumbs and my fingers are pulling her legs impossibly wide and the head of my prick is suddenly inside her. The feeling, the buzz from her in my head is incredible, I feel like we are about to explode. There is no way she can move on me, but I tug even more and watch the huge bulge of my cock head move up her belly to her middle, under her ribs.God, I'm right inside her, and the world is thrumming. "Yes, yes, yes," she is going inside my head - it is like the culmination of everything she has ever wanted, and I cannot refuse her ecstasy. Slowly I pump her on my cock - just one stroke over three or four seconds, and every pump drives her further on to it, drives the bulge up into her chest. I watch as her breasts fill and expand like balloons from the displaced stuff inside her. And all the time the pressure is building, the bells ringing louder, the vibration so great I can feel it in my hands as well as my cock. "You must eat me," she cries. "You and Celia must eat me afterwards." The words are clear, ringing bells in my head, but I have no idea what she means, and I can't think because the pressure is overwhelming - and we come. We explode, we orgasm, we climax, we spasm and spasm, and with each wave I pump my stuff into her, into her fragile little body, again and again and again. Blue stuff vomits out of her mouth, leaks out of her nose, even her ears. We collapse. Then she was so limp, so still. I just thought she was coming down from the high, I had no idea she was hurt, broken, wounded. I cuddled her till I got my breath back, then laid her out on her back. She was not breathing, but then sometimes she used to forget to do it. She stirred. Oh, at last, I thought. She laid back straight, with her legs together, and crossed her arms over her chest, like an Egyptian mummy. Her eyes were shut, but in my head I could hear her words; clear, crystal, and unmistakable. "Thank you. Don't forget to eat me. I love you. Goodbye." And then she was gone. There was no mistaking it. Now it was gone, I recognized the absence of the warm hum, the buzz that had been the background music in my head whenever I had been in this room. The silence was deafening. And her body - I had no idea rigor mortis was so fast. Even as I watched, she stiffened and went rigid. Then, strangely, her old transparency came back. Before my eyes, she turned into a small blue glass statue of a beautiful naked woman lying on her back. Still stunned, I picked up the cold hard thing, unbelieving, and I've been staring at it ever since. She is dead. She is gone. What have I done? End of Chapter One (Don't despair. Read Chapter 2 next. Currently at http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/Old-Softy/Blue_fairy_2.)	null	Part 1/4	Authors/Old-Softy/Blue_fairy_1.txt
78,425	Old-Softy	The Hitchhiker	You would never guess what a girl can get stuck on if she is not careful. It is difficult to tell with hitchhikers. I mean, you only get about 10 seconds to assess them before you are past and on to the next one. (I do like the way they space themselves out on the slip road, though.) I usually go for a girl. No, not for the reasons you are thinking. God, when I look back; ten years on the road; hundreds of towns, and thousands of miles. Christ knows how many hikers and how often have I gotten lucky? Two one-night stands, you know, great at the time, but the awkward smile and "Don't forget to look me up" the next morning; one complete disaster - how I got away without a court case I'll never know; and one, yes just one, magic meeting. I remember it still. It was that funny little two-star hotel near Sheffield. I don't know why I stay there except it is just the right distance to stop, late at night when I am on the way back up after a pitch in London. I suppose I am an old customer, they could see I liked her, and they pulled out the stops. She had a dress in her bag, and somehow she just needed a touch of makeup and a glass of wine to switch to glamorous and sexy. For me, it was the setting. Put me in front of crisp linen and shining silver, and sophisticated but relaxed comes easy. Just for one night, we all pretended it was the Ritz. In bed, we could do no wrong. I just took what I wanted, forgetting the considerate bit, and discovered every time it was just what drove her wild. She let rip, indulged herself in that pet fantasy she had never dared touch before, and it was like I had a porn star in my bed. Even the next morning, the smiles were real. Yes, I could see that she was in her thirties, not her twenties. Yes, it was obviously apparent that I was a travelling sales rep, not an executive businessman, but even then the smiles were real. So, it was a shock when she looked wistfully at my card, then dropped it in the waste basket. "That wasn't really me, you know, last night," she explained gently. "And I don't think it was really you." She turned, on her way out, and kissed me lightly on the cheek. I was too surprised to object. "That's the thing with a holiday romance. Keep the pictures, keep the memories, but don't forget to lose his number at the airport." Was she right, to give up on reality, even an uncertain one, for one perfect memory? I will never know. But up until recently, that memory was the best it had ever been. So, with hitchers, it is not the chance of sex I am after. It is the company. What I need is someone next to me, a real live person with a different story and a life different from any other person - and the miles melt. The long boring hours on the motorway just disappear. I go for the girls, partly because usually they are less trouble - or there is less risk of trouble. And... well, I know I am not going to rape anyone, not even just give them grief. So each girl I pick up is one journey a girl does not have to make sitting next to some stranger, some man that I do not know anything about. Still, it is difficult to pick the right one. It's the clothes the kids wear these days. Just look at that one. Could be a pro on the pull, a fourteen-year-old on the bunk from the local comp, or some stuck-up piece from Cheltenham Ladies College in her latest grunge kit. Same gear would apply - stockings with big carefully spaced holes, short leather skirt, random layers on top. But by now, I was slowing, and something in me had decided on that girl. I went with it. I still don't understand my gut instinct, or whatever you call it, but by now I know to trust it. As she ran up to the door, slung her pack in the back seat, and climbed in up front, I wondered what the clues were. Maybe the skirt - it was halfway up her thigh but not a bum freezer - maybe the tops, usual mix of string vest, waistcoat, man's shirt and a wrap - but somehow, the colours went together. No, it was the hair. Hacked, spiky, coloured - but she hadn't hidden that it was healthy and clean. That head had not been on the floor of too many squats. "Um... Hi. Thanks," she proffered, facing me. I smiled to myself as I picked up speed and slipped into a gap in the middle lane. Definitely Cheltenham, not Dagenham. "So. Going far? I'm Dan, by the way." "Oh, yeah. Emily. Emily Bradshaw. I'm just aaah... going North. I need to get to..." her voice went blank. "Nottingham?" I suggested. "Oh, yes, how did you guess?" she shot back, too eagerly. Oh, easy enough, girl. So, not running to somewhere, but definitely running. Running away from... what? Who? "Just a lucky shot. So, looking forward to the weekend?" "Maybe." I sat back and let the silence wait to be filled. But nothing doing. So, not a talker, then. Maybe a listener? "Had enough of the big smoke, then? Wanting to get out into the countryside?" I probed for an opening. "Not likely. I hate the country. Too many trees. Woods give me the heebie jeebies." I smiled. "Oh, no. I like woods. I first met Chrissie in a wood." I paused, but no curiosity was offered, about the identity of Chrissie, or anything else. "It's quite a story. Do you want to hear it? Might pass the time." She shrugged, obviously unaware of the honour being proffered to her, and I settled down to get my thoughts in order."Unusual sculptures in these woods," I mentioned, making conversation. She glared silently. "Have you seen the one with the carpet?" I enquired. The chat was getting a little one-sided. In fact, she looked rather uncomfortable. The log was much too wide for her to reach the ground as she straddled it, and she had placed an offcut of wood on each side to stand on. Even then, she was on tiptoes, leaning forward with her weight on her hands in front of her. I grinned inwardly and stopped to look her in the eye. Of course, she did not know that I knew what she was trying to hide. "That looks interesting. New form of exercises?" I smiled disarmingly and tried to spot the shape of the thing in the folds of her dress, without appearing to stare at her crotch. "Yes. Exercises," she replied. Icicles formed. "Ones that I prefer to do in private." "Ah. Fine. Sorry to disturb you." I nodded again and wandered off on my way. She twisted around to follow my progress, but I was soon lost to view. Of course, as soon as I was out of sight, I doubled back, silently. Cautiously, I crept around to a point immediately behind her. Yes, I know, and I am not normally a peeping Tom, but I had to find out what she was up to. What a sight. Well, in fact, it was not - UNLESS you knew what was under her skirt. Standing on tiptoe on those little log ends, she carefully raised herself up, leaning on her straight arms, rocked her hips - she had a very nice behind - and very slowly lowered her torso again. Surely not - yes - she must be on it! She had only impaled herself on that oversized carved wooden prick! Maybe she had even had it inside her when I stopped next to her - and I had only been feet away. I could hear the low gasp as she repeated the motion. There was no doubt at all. Right in front of me, a completely decent-looking young woman was indulging in a very extreme bit of masturbation. But after a few minutes, her movements changed. The sounds became almost desperate - there was a distinct "ouch" - and she was wriggling on stiff legs, on tiptoe, straining upwards. As if she was trying to get off the thing - and could not quite make it. Wow. She was stuck. I stared in disbelief. This was ridiculous. I could only see her back, and I would see more flesh on any of the girls at the office, but ... watching her writhe, and knowing why ... Suddenly that carving was not the only wood hard prick around here. A gentleman would, of course, step forward and offer assistance. Or would that be the creep? In my head, good old-fashioned embarrassment was fighting the horny desire to get closer. The decision was made for me. Moving to one side to get a better view past the bush, I stepped on a twig. The snap seemed to echo around the woods, and she gasped in a different tone. "Who's there?" she demanded, twisting around to look over her shoulder. I stood up and stepped forward. Suddenly I was feeling brazen. After all, she was the one doing the dirty with a tree. And - yes - it was clearly still inside her. I strolled up, wondering whether she was going to admit what was going on. Now I was enjoying myself. I remembered that time, years ago, when I had visited a client's office ahead of my appointment. Old eagle eyes spotted a pair of skimpy knickers drying on a radiator, and the very pink face on the pretty blonde secretary. I stood poker-faced while she explained in embarrassed tones that Mr. what's-his-name would be back soon. I had no idea what was going on, but it was a delightful fifteen minutes while I made small talk to the blushing girl, who knew I knew she was not wearing anything under her pretty, short skirt. "So, how is the exercising going?" I asked nonchalantly as I wandered around to lean against the log in front of her. Her dress, which was probably knee-length, had ridden up her thighs, and I could see the tension in her thigh muscles. She was gripping the log between her legs, trying to keep her body high. Mmm, shapely legs. Must actually use that gym membership. "Just ... go... away," she jerked out through gritted teeth. I admired her face. Very nice. Restrained makeup and a simple but expensive hairdo. Late twenties or early thirties, I decided, and lower management, not your average secretary. A touch of class, although perhaps not looking her best right now. "Hey, that's not very nice," I smiled. "I only came back to see if I could help. It sounded as if you were maybe having a spot of trouble." I wanted to give her every chance to ask for a hand. "Why don't you f... f... f... " she faltered. "Fuck off?" I completed, grinning. She just glared. "Hmm. Not in the habit of saying 'fuck', are we? Go on, give it a shot. Feels great when things are rough." If looks could kill. "Fuck off then!" she blurted out, then, amazingly, looked down as if embarrassed at what she had just said. How could that embarrass her when ... I chuckled. "First time to say the F word. Well done. And first time to impale yourself on an oakwood prick?" She gasped and looked up at me, open-mouthed. "Hey, it's okay. I know it's there; I was admiring it myself, only ten minutes ago." I winked. "Me, I don't care how people get their jollies, and it just seemed to me that you could do with some help." Her head dropped, and her shoulders sagged. "Oh, God, I didn't mean to ... it was just so ... and now ... " I saw the tear trickling down the side of her cheek. All right, time to stop playing the bastard. "Don't worry. Here, grab hold." I reached round her to fasten my hands together under her armpit on the far side and took her weight. Nice load to be squeezing against my chest. "Hup we go." But it was not going to be so easy. "Ow!" she gasped as I tried to lift her. The log was too wide, and because I was heaving from the side, I could not help pulling her sideways. "Oh ow ow ... WOAH!" I stopped and held her. "Put me -ow- down -ow- put me back -ah," she panted. Really carefully, I moved her back but kept one arm around her to steady her. "Maybe I should take a look to see what's going on," I suggested, and lifted the hem of the dress with my free hand. She shrieked. "Don't you dare!" She moved her weight, and lifted her right hand as if to strike at me. But it was back on the log, and she was wincing in pain before I could flinch. "Just f... f... f... bugger off. You're making it worse!" she cried, and staring at my crotch continued "You don't want to help, you just want to get up my dress!" Okay, caught red-handed, the tent in my trousers spoke for itself. But can't a guy be altruistic at the same time? "Now GO AWAY - before I call the cops." So much for the knight in shining armour. Some people wouldn't say thanks if you pissed on them to put them out if they were on ... no, that didn't come out right ... well, you know what I mean. I disentangled my arm, swung on my heel, and marched off, not even looking behind. But not too far. Before there was too much greenery between us, my feet slowed down of their own accord. Or more likely, my prick had found a way to chat to them without my being involved. This was no time to stand on my dignity. Whether she wanted it or not, that girl needed my help. And then another thought popped into my head. The camera. Pictures! Why I hadn't thought of it before, God only knows. Well, God or my prick. I hesitated, then grabbed it and ventured back. I had the camera raised before she heard me. Through the viewfinder, I saw her look up - and the expression of dismay that filled her face. As I took the first one, she cried out "No!". She twisted away as if to hide her face and then screamed, as her feet slipped and both blocks of wood flew away from the log. She was now supported on only the grip of her thighs on the rough bark, her outstretched hands and .. the thing in her cunt. I lowered the camera and walked up to her, considering my move. I couldn't really leave her there, but on the other hand ... "Okay. Do want help or not?" "Ow ... oww ... owwww," she hissed. She was crying properly now, tears streaming. "No. Go away! ... just ... Yes, please ... please ... I'm sorry ... oww ... I didn't mean it ... ohhh ... please help me." "All right, but now there's a price." "Yes, whatever you like, anything!" "You sure? You haven't heard what .." "ANYTHING!" she shouted, turning to stare into my eyes. Wow. She was gorgeous close up. How could I refuse? I stepped up to her to grab her under the armpits, but the log was in the way, and the angle was all wrong. I could support her, but I could not lift her. She raised one arm with a gasp and wrapped it around my neck. "Okay, can you hold on by yourself for ten seconds?" I asked, suddenly sure of what to do. She nodded, wincing. I slipped out of her arm and leapt over to the pile of logs. Grabbing two decent ones, I jammed first one then the other under her dangling feet. The ones I had chosen were much bigger than hers; taller, wider and more stable. "Try that. Stand!" I commanded, and leant over to help her up. Now she could get her heels down onto the wood and stand properly. Her knees were still bent, but I could tell her weight was secure as she gingerly lifted her hands off the log. Then she straightened her back and pulled her arms up and behind her to stretch. It was as if the weight of the world lifted off her shoulders. She quickly put her hands back on the bark in front of her, but I could see her groin was now a couple of inches off the trunk. "Ohhh ... Christ that's better." "So, don't you want to know what you've agreed to?" I asked. She looked me in the eyes. Beautiful big, brown eyes. Time froze, then she blinked. "Oh, yes, I suppose so." "Well, you have to go out with me." She nodded and shrugged. "And ..." I wondered how far I could push it. "You have to have sex with me.""She stared, frowned, and then, amazingly, snorted in amusement. "I don't believe it. So this is what it takes to get a decent man interested!" I must have looked puzzled. "Do you know how long... I mean, why do you think... well, anyway, yes. Whatever you say." She wriggled her shoulders, and then (lovely to watch) the rest of her. "I'm okay now for the moment"... another wriggle... "So what now?" My heart banging, I reached out to touch her smooth cheek. She jerked her head away but then, looking me in the eye, brought it back. I smiled as I stroked her face with the back of my hand. She did not move her body. Of course not. I shifted around and sat down on the log, this time behind her. She gave up the effort to follow me over her shoulder and dropped her head down. As I touched her shoulder, it jerked back up. "What... what...?" "This is quite interesting. You can't move, can you?" I pointed out, gently, stroking her bare neck. "Shushhh. Relax. It's all going to be alright," I murmured, running my hands over her shoulders. They tensed instead, and she winced as she tried to twist her head round. I carried on down her back. Christ, she was gorgeous. Warm skin and smooth firm back muscles beneath the cotton under my fingers. "Hey, I didn't say... What do you think... OH!" I undid the top button at the back of her neck and then carried on down with the others. It seemed natural to undo the bra strap as it offered itself up on the way past. Oddly, she stopped protesting, and by the time I undid the last one, at her waist, she was just panting quietly. Nice tan, and the back muscles gliding under her skin felt as good as they looked. "Now, let's see what's going on under here, shall we?" I murmured as I lifted the hem of the dress. "NO! You're not... you wouldn't..." she cried and twisted, but of course it was completely useless because by the time she had the words out, the dress was up and over her head. She shook it, almost as if to help, and I dragged it off her shoulders and down to her hands. Wow. Except for her shoes, she was completely naked. The bra was mixed up in her dress, but where...? Then I saw the knickers, on the far side of the log, draped over her abandoned handbag. I leaned down to collect them. "Well, well, well," I mused, as I extricated the bra from her dress and then laid the two undergarments out on the bark in front of her. "Such a polite young lady, who would have thought it?" I stepped back to admire the view. It was certainly worth it. Very nice breasts; not overly large, but the way she was leaning forward made them hang out just perfectly. Nipples very erect. Tight waist, an athlete's torso. Good legs; long, slim, nice muscle tone, and tanned like her back. Bikini shadow in the tan on her body, so it wasn't a sun bed job - where had she been on holiday in March? But wait. Eyes shut, she was blushing. Not just her face but all down her chest. I stepped up to her and, leaning against her shoulder, reached round to brush my fingers along her lips. Groaning something unintelligible, she kissed and sucked my fingers. All by themselves, two of them just slipped right into her mouth. The feel of her urgent slippery tongue writhing on them was so intimate it was intoxicating. I dropped the other hand down to tug at the nipple waiting there. She gasped and leant against me. Pulling myself off her, I stepped back. Wow. What did I have here. First I just had to let my cock out. I could not help smiling at her expression as her eyes fastened on it. "Hey, look what you do to me, eh? But that's for later, girl," I said. She shuddered and blushed again, but looked up into my eyes. Still gazing into hers, I could see she had started a slow rocking motion again on the prick that was in her. "So," I murmured casually "you going to try and get off right in front of me?" "Oh, no... but... Pl... please... don't... d..." she groaned, her eyes still locked in mine. I reached out with both hands and just brushed both nipples with the backs of my fingers, then drew them back as she tried to push her front at me to increase the contact. She was panting now. "Oh... hah... please... hah... pl... please... you mustn't..." I drew back again and once more moved around behind her, while her eyes dragged her head around to follow me. The two halves of her bottom were so soft, so spherical, delightfully split and stretched out by the enormous log between her thighs. With one hand, I caressed her back before sliding my touch down and around the curves of her bottom. As I bent down to let my hand slip under her backside, I leant my face against her shoulder blade. Mmmm, the warm salty smell of aroused woman-skin. I slowly ran the tip of my tongue along the bottom edge of the shoulder blade and felt her back quiver at its wet touch. With my left hand, I could now feel the wooden shaft under her. My fingers wrapped around it while my thumb just naturally lined up against the soft pucker of her asshole. My right hand I let drift around to her front, and dragged my fingertips along the insides of both her thighs before feeling gently for the cunt lips between them. It was amazing. I could feel them stretched tight across that wooden pole. I began to stroke them against the timber. Now she was moaning - what must she be feeling? Gently grazing her shoulder with my teeth, I lightly stroked her cunt lips from behind with the forefinger of my left hand, and pushed softly against her rosebud hole with my thumb. The top of it just popped in, and now I could feel the hardness of the thing inside her as I pushed against it. She groaned more loudly, and shook her head from side to side. My other fingertips, now wet and slippery, found the clit at her front. It was way out of its hood, hot, proud and swollen, as if pushed out by what was inside her. Carefully, teasingly, I slid one finger around the little nub. She was making little high-pitched moans now, "Aah... aah... aah" as I slipped my finger up and down in time with her panting. And each stroke, her whole body flexed and slid up and down, just a fraction, on the wooden stick stretching her. She was part sitting on the fist of my left hand under her, and... God, I could feel the taut slippery lips of her cunt slide on the smooth wood each time. I had meant to toy with her more, but it was as if I could not stand it any longer either. Somehow holding her to me, I slowly ground her clit into her, squeezing against the pubic bone, pushing that against the inhuman prick in her, while pushing the other way from the back. Her flesh was trapped, there was nowhere to go except explosion, and explode she did. Every convulsion must have been agony and ecstasy. I could just feel the implacable hardness of the unyielding wood as her internal muscles spasmed in involuntary constrictions around it. She had collapsed. Somehow her arm was around my neck, there was a noise... "Ahhhhhh.... ahhhhhh....." It was her moaning quietly, in discomfort now. "Come on, straighten your legs," I encouraged her, and wrapped both arms right around her. "You can do it..." and we were off. Sitting on the ground, her in my lap, my back against the log and I think neither of us quite sure how we got there. It was ridiculous. I felt as if I had cum, not her. I had a rock hard prick, I had not got any action, and all I could think as I sat there with that soft form in my lap, was the beautiful feel of the load in my arms. After a few minutes, she stirred and looked up at me. "... you going to f... fuck me now?" she asked, as if this was a formality. I nodded, wordlessly, and for some reason, she gave a happy sigh as I stretched her out on the damp grass. Rose petals. Rose petals and whipped cream was what her cunt felt like, as I delicately stroked in and out of her, so careful not to hurt the bruised flesh inside. I softly kissed her eyebrows, her nose, keeping my weight off the tender body laid out beneath me, as the pressure built. I came in seconds, it seemed, as she gazed up at me and I pumped months of frustration and lonely nights into her softness. When I came to my senses, I was lying back, spent, and her face was glowing as she gently moved over me. She murmured and hummed, softly kissing parts of me now and then, touching my clothes and my body with tentative fingers, and all the while gazing at me with, well frankly, adoration. So, what do you do? Break the spell or keep dreaming? * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * And there was the sign. East Leicester Services, half a mile. That is the magic of having an audience - one and three-quarter hours gone, effortlessly, and now we were nearly there. "I'll drop you at the service station," I told the silent girl next to me, as I searched for a gap in the traffic in the inside lane. There, in front of that blue van. "I don't understand. What... what happened to her?" she asked. "Did she fall for you, then?" Count down markers, and I put the indicators on. "Fall for me?" I mused. "I suppose so. Who knows how a woman's mind works? Or her heart? Hell if I knew how my heart worked, it would be a good place to start." It is funny how the slip road and the entrance stick in your memory and become familiar. It's only trees, a bit of road and some signage. Yet if you drove me into any service station on the M1, I could tell you which one it was, instantly. I carried on talking as I picked my way around the car park. "She refused to get dressed when I took her back to my car, and we left hers there. I cancelled my appointment, and I never did find out where she should have been. Nine times we did it that weekend, at her place, even though she was so sore we had to use every hole in turn.""We did not get dressed until Monday morning." The girl was looking at me quizzically now, half-turned in her seat. "You're joking. After doing that to her, she let you... you're pulling my leg." "So, it's her birthday next week. It has been six months, and we are going out to celebrate at a nice little place she knows. It is my treat, but I let her choose - she is good with stuff like that. And I am heading back to Sherwood Forest to get her a present - with a chainsaw in the boot. You see, I bet I can find the log again. I think I need to cut out a piece about six inches deep and two feet long, to make the whole thing portable but stable. I might even tie a pink ribbon around it, you know, just for effect." Stunned silence for a minute. Then "You mean... you mean you're together? An item!" I shrugged and wound around the parking lanes. "Yep, I'm as amazed as you. Hell, I am good at the chat-up, and I get on with people, but I know my limits. If I had met Chrissie at some do and made a play for her, she wouldn't have looked at me twice." That space there, I thought, stopped the car, and twisted round to reverse in. I switched off the engine, and the car ticked as things cooled down somewhere inside. The silence seemed so loud. "Look, it's like this. She loves being with me, she says, because I respect her in public and control her in private. Well, what is there not to respect? She is good-looking, smart, and I can see she is going to be head of that personnel department in a year. Way out of my class." I shrugged and looked out at the grey sky. "Yet apparently every man she has tried before ended up putting her down or screwing her around. She excuses them, thinks it was because they felt threatened by her, but I reckon she just chose shits in the first place. Some girls instinctively go for the arrogant prick every time, especially if they have a subconscious need to be dominated." I faced my hitchhiker and watched her mouth the word to herself. "Dominated." "And in private? What guy would not hang on to a girl who basically gets off just on doing what he says, the more extreme the better? You better believe this - I fuck her senseless every weekend, and every weekend I thank my lucky stars, and the stupidity of the jerks she seemed to be attracted to before." She was studying my face. "What do you mean, gets off on doing what you say? What, like, submissive?" I wondered whether to explain or fob her off. I returned her gaze, levelly. "Before I get to her flat this evening, I'll give her a bell to warn her ten minutes earlier." I sat back again and held the wheel, talking to the windscreen as the image formed in my mind. "When I open the front door, I will go straight through to the living room. She will be there, kneeling on a silk cushion in the centre, facing the window, facing away from the room door. Naked." A pause, for effect. "Well, maybe some jewelry, usually a necklace or a waist chain." The silence was so hard you could feel it, and I realized the girl was holding her breath. "She won't raise her eyes from the floor. I will wander around, make myself a whiskey and soda, and stretch out on the sofa. Maybe I'll kick my shoes off and check the newspaper headlines." In a voice you would use in a cathedral, she whispered, "And she... just sits there?" I grinned to the windscreen. "Oh yes. And as I walk past, perhaps my trouser cuff brushes the curve of her backside. Or I toy with the lock of hair on her shoulder. Well, how long I hold out varies." My voice dropped an octave. "And then I pick her up and put her on the bed... or across the back of the sofa... or on her back on the kitchen table," now I was growling, "and I slam into her. God, I fuck her so hard." She was frozen, her eyes down and her hands holding the sides of the seat. No, not quite frozen. Her knees, which were perhaps six inches apart, were swaying. Each breath, they moved out, and then back in. I could not pull my eyes away. The hem of her skirt was pulled tight across her legs with each wave, and then relaxed back into a valley. The shadow cast on the inside of her thighs swept up and down, the only movement on her smooth pale skin. Somewhere, I could feel an animal, breathing. Not looking up, she muttered into the silence, "They do rooms here. In the Holiday Inn, over there." I looked at her face, and she turned to gaze up into my eyes. Nothing is so intimate, so scarily vulnerable, as eyes lost in yours that reveal their hunger, that hold on for too long, that tell you she will do anything. I had to look away first. In the aching pause, she whispered, "I'm not... I mean... you know, I wouldn't expect any money." I sat back. One of the secrets of being a good sales rep is an eye for the deal that is the real winner, the one that no-one should refuse. The gift of knowing a good thing when you see one - it is amazing how few people have it. "Sorry, love," I said gently, putting one hand on hers. She sagged. "You don't want me. You want a boy who will actually like you. Maybe love you." Her head was waving from side to side in denial. "Come on, get your gear. This time of day, it will be easy to get a lift from here." Eyes glistening, she started to move around, collecting things, avoiding looking at me. I wondered about money. She wouldn't have enough, but there was no way I would get her to accept anything, not even a tenner. With her stuff on her lap and her hand on the door handle, I reached out to stop her. "Hey, will you do me a favor?" She glowered, but then relaxed, shrugged, and nodded. "You don't sleep rough. You're from a place where they looked after you." She stared ahead, unresponsive. "I won't ask what got screwed up, but you know that somewhere deep down they love you. Someway, you love them. When you get in there, just give them a ring. Don't explain, or apologize, or even say where you are. But let them know you breathe." Slowly, very slowly, she nodded. Then twisted, reached over the back of the seat to grab her pack, opened the door, and stepped out. She was five paces away before she stopped and waltzed back to me. Oddly, she was looking cheerful again. I dropped the window, and she leaned in to look at me. "In the boot," with a shake of the head towards the back, "is there really a chainsaw?" I smiled as I had an idea. "Guess." She frowned in mock disapproval. "Go on, make a guess. Tell you what. You get it right, you win..." I twisted to fish out my wallet and poked around to flick up a note, "a twenty. You get it wrong, I win a kiss." She rolled her eyes and teased, "Wow, surprise surprise. You dream that up all by yourself?" "Never mind that. You game or not?" She stood up out of sight, and I could hear her fingers drumming on the roof. She leaned back in again and stated, "In. It's there. There is a chainsaw." I laughed softly. "Well done. You win," and held up the note. "And, wherever you go, whoever you're with, never think that it's only the jerks who are exciting. Every good guy has a dark side if you know where to dig." She looked at me in surprise and then unexpectedly grinned back. "Sod it," she said, and leaning right in, twisted around to kiss me delicately on the lips. Her hair brushed against my face, and the smell of her shampoo filled my nostrils - then was gone. "Goodbye, Emily Bradshaw," I called out as she stepped away from the car, away from me. She slowed but did not stop or turn. "Goodbye, Mr. Woodsman. I hope she likes it," she called, over her shoulder. And then she was gone, her tousled head getting lost over the car roofs as she skipped towards the McDonald's. And was there a chainsaw? Of course not, although you might say some of the characters were based on real life. Good story too, for an improvisation. Chrissie will love it. I might even try it out on the ASSTR site. The bet? I'm a salesman. I have to know how people will jump. Of course, she thought it was a bluff - don't forget she didn't ask to check - but she was always going to guess that I was after the kiss. So what had we won, she and I, and what had we lost? In the end, nothing that matters. An hour older, maybe an hour wiser. Nothing else. Now I'm swinging out of the car park and remembering that it's quicker not to go past the petrol. Twenty minutes if I don't get held up on the A52. I will give her a buzz when I get to J25. Or maybe a mile after the junction. That will give her about eight minutes - say two to change, three to arrange the living room, three to wait. It's been two weeks, and I don't want to have her hanging there too long. 180 seconds is a long time when you are on tenderhooks. I can tell when it is just right from the damp patch on the silk cushion. My body remembers, and parts of it start to wake up in anticipation. Impatient, my foot presses down on the accelerator, and I swing out into the fast lane. Oh, yes, I know a good thing when I see one. One day I might tell you the real story of how Chrissie and I met. THE END	null	null	Authors/Old-Softy/The_Hitchhiker.txt
78,705	Toran	The Full Moon	You take my hand, a gentle, knowing smile on your face, as you lead me into the moonlit clearing. Crickets everywhere sing to us, the air smells fresh and alive, and the moon caresses every curve of our bodies. I am led, the slightly taller of the two of us, but the one who yields to your power absolutely, and I am awash in the sight of you, glowing in the moonlight. Before this, we stopped at the bubbling brook, you leading me into the chilled black waist-high water, and there with the silver-highlighted stream gently flowing past, we washed each other. Wordlessly, we cleaned the other, gently splashing the cleansing water through our hair, the heat of our bodies, which brush against each other momentarily in the process, makes us aware of the fire that burns in us both. Water dripping down your long, silky black hair, you guide me up the other side of the brook to this clearing. We have dried in the walk, all but your hair, and now you find the deerskin satchel and pull the oil from it. Your eyes dancing, you tip the vial, cupping your hand, then rub the oil onto my chest. Over my shoulders, down my waist, my thighs. A slow smile spreads across your lips as you rub oil around my balls and along my hard shaft. A spark flicks across your face, and you squeeze my balls tightly, quickly - I am yours, my body is yours, these balls are yours - then you let go, handing the vial to me. I drop to my knees and first kiss your feet, lovingly, everywhere, then slowly work the oil in. You lift your feet, first the left then the right, so I can kiss your sensitive pads and then coat the bottoms. I straighten a little, kissing your ankles and calves and knee, then follow with the oil, working the silky liquid deep into your supple muscle. I kiss the lower part of your thighs, working my way up, then kiss the inner skin, smelling you and your sex, just inches above. I work the oil in. Looking up and into your eyes, I wait for the subtle nod that means permission is granted for what I do next. Gently, I kiss your shaved mound, working my way around your mons outward so that I have kissed every spot of your secret area. I hear a soft moan escape your lips as I rub in the oil, softly coating the two swells of your derriere. Up your belly, your ribs, to your breasts, I kiss then oil. At your breasts, I again wait for permission, then kiss your globes, circling until I reach the nipples, which I kiss for just a second longer. I work the oil around and around until your breasts are covered with a light sheen that makes your skin glow even more in the moonlight. Your shoulders and arms follow, then your neck. Looking deep into your eyes, I gently rub the oil across your cheeks, the curve of your chin, your nose, your forehead. You lean forward and kiss me lightly on the lips, then take the oil vial from me and return it to the satchel. You lead me to the center of the clearing, then firmly push me down on the grass to a kneeling position. Then you do the things I don't fully understand, those magical things that seem to soak you with power and make the night come even more alive. You draw a circle around us in the grass with a stick, murmuring words that I can barely hear. Your body becomes a dancer then, performing subtle moves and actions with the gracefulness of practice. Then you are lighting candles around us, and the soft yellow glow touches our bodies where the silver moonlight misses. You come and kneel before me, our knees faintly touching. We stare into each other's eyes, our breathing slowing until it seems we breathe as one. You rub your hands together, then pass them before me. I do the same to you, our eyes never straying from each other's for more than a few moments. Then you begin chanting, spreading your arms out to the white moon high above, and I repeat the words, until the litany of sound entwines itself with all that is outside our circle, the crickets, the owl, the cicadas, the fireflies. And then you stop, rising to stand above me. I kneel before you and kiss your feet. "Blessed be your feet that you allow me to kiss, and that call me to follow." I kiss your knees. "Blessed be your knees that do not kneel before me, and show me your power because of this." I rise up and kiss your secret spot. I can feel you sway. "Blessed be your womb, that gives life and is that which I worship." I stand now, and lower my head to your breasts, kissing them. "Blessed be your breasts that symbolize our perfect love and beauty and is also that which I worship." I straighten, catch your eyes with mine and kiss you softly but firmly on your lips. "Blessed be your lips that speak the sacred words and guide me to your power so that I may be captured in it." I step back and now you drop to your knees and kiss my feet. "Blessed by your feet that have led you to Me. These I bind and shackle to hold you near to Me." You kiss my knees. "Blessed be your knees that kneel before Me." You slip your lips around my hard penis and then kiss my balls. I hear myself moan softly. "Blessed be your manhood, that I own and use for My pleasure." You stand, your breasts lightly brushing mine. Then you bend to kiss each of my nipples. "Blessed be your breasts, that symbolize your obedience to Me by their yearning for pain." You look deep into my eyes and kiss me. "Blessed by your lips that speak to Me the words of submission." You lean into me and we embrace, Your breasts pressing into my chest, my hard penis resting against your tummy. Our breathing becomes one again as we bathe in the moonbeams, a singular being of Yin and Yang. Then I step back and taking scented oil, I rub both your breasts and your womb with my finger. "I give all of my power, my soul, my being, to this Woman. I adore Her and worship Her forever and a day." Then I rub your entire body with the oil, feeling your power radiate with every pass of my hands. Reaching up, you place both hands on my shoulders, firmly pushing me down to a kneeling position before you. You take the scented oil and reach down and coat my penis and balls, then my chest. Standing over me, you murmur, "I accept the power of this man, and embrace it making it mine. I adore him and make him Mine forever and a day." Then you lay down before me and direct my head to your lips. We kiss, tasting each other, feeling our breath against our necks, my hand stroking your hair and you gripping the nape of my neck. Then you push me down and I kiss your mound, running my tongue around your pussy lips. You buck your hips in time with my tongue as it slides inside your pussy, then out. I feel your movement, wait for you to get close to orgasm, then stop, moving up your tummy to your breasts, kissing your oil and sweat lathered skin. I run my tongue in circles around the outer folds of your breasts, slowly working my way in until I have your nipple in my teeth. I suckle and bite, my hands kneading your flesh. I lay almost entirely on you and feel your body move beneath me as each caress and nip to your breasts causes a moan to escape your lips. Then I move up to your lips and again find your warm mouth. We kiss for what seems an eternity, the silver moon and yellow candle light playing across our bodies. Then you break the kiss, your eyes hardening a little. Firmly, you roll over onto me, then straddle my chest. Your knees lay across my arms, pinning me to the ground and you lean down and grab my head in your hands, pulling my mouth to your lips. Your hair cascades in a black waterfall around us as you kiss me roughly, your hands pulling my hair. I give you my power, a moan and a whimper at a time, and you take it, making you stronger. You release my head and slide down my body, your hands finding mine and pressing them into the grass. I can't see your eyes now, as your hair crowns your face in obscurity, but I feel your teeth bite my nipples, hard, then your tongue laps at them, washing away the pain, then another hard bite. This continues as I squirm beneath you, my power radiating from me with every jolt and bite. You stop, looking up at me. Your eyes glare with our combined energy. I give to you freely and now you will take what is offered, and then some. You straighten, positioning yourself over my engorged penis, then slam down, burying yourself on my shaft. You scream once, then slowly rise up. I move my hips to help and reach up to cup your breasts. You press your hands against mine, moving them as if they were yours, as you methodically rise up and down on me. Your heat stirs me to the point that I have to close my eyes and concentrate on waiting, waiting for you to explode first. I slide my hands down to your waist and caress your hips, your butt, as you continue to work your breasts. We both moan now, as the pace builds. I can feel you tighten up around me, can feel the waves starting to crash in your body, and with a scream of my own, I release deep inside you. You are a mere moment away and I thrust hard, up into you.Then you scream, throwing your head back, your back arching, and beneath the bloated silver moon, we collapse together, the heat of our fire burning the hottest. You lay on top of me, your body shuddering, and I bury my face in the crown of your hair. We cling together tightly, me still snugly inside you. Our breathing becomes one again, and now it feels as if our power, that which you have harnessed between us, radiates into the night, beyond our circle. We slip and merge into a greater power, a greater energy - that which is all around us. We are one, together, yet more. We are everything. Then slowly, the heat and passion turning to a warm glow that matches the dwindling light of the candles, you raise your chin to me and stare deeply into my eyes. "I am Yours, Lady," I whisper. "Please accept and keep my power." You trace a line down my jaw and rest a finger to my lips. Your eyes dance, and you say, "Merry Meet and Merry Part, Perfect Love and Perfect Heart."	null	null	Authors/Toran/Fullmoon.txt
78,983	Ms_Blissed	Cheap Hotel	You sit on the bed as I dress... the smell of our sex hangs in the air, slowly being overcome by the smell of cigarette smoke. I wince as I fasten the 1950s-style corselette over the marks of the strap on my lower back and reach down to click the metal fasteners onto sheer black stockings. I throw on a simple black dress that slithers down my now hourglass figure and clings sensuously to my breasts, the cold silk bringing fleeting relief to sore nipples, and then step into heels. Walking back to the bed for final instructions, I fasten up my hair and enjoy the slickness of my inner thighs as I move. Your hand slides between two layers of silk on my thigh until it finds warm flesh and then the spreading wetness of my cunt. "Go on, girl...go hunting and bring back some fresh meat." The bar is busy, it's midweek and it's almost totally full of middle-aged lonely businessmen, reps, and early arrivals for tomorrow's visitors to the conference center adjoining the hotel. I pause in the doorway as if looking for someone, and as I scan the room, I feel at least a dozen sets of eyes brush over me before I make for a stool at the far end of the bar. I smile at the bartender who's seen me operate many times, and as I sit down, he already has a shot of gin and a bottle of tonic in place. "On your tab?" But even as he says it, the man to my left offers to buy me the drink. I glance at him, taking in the suit and, most importantly, the shoes before smiling my thanks and raising my glass to him. He's slightly overweight, but stocky...probably used to play rugby and is now well on his way to seed.... so I glance to my right and catch a pair of intensely blue eyes. Now this is better, he's tall and broad, and those eyes pull me back to his face...and he smiles a slow, lopsided smile. "Hunting?" He says...and I feel myself blush. I turn back to Mr. Going-to-seed and thank him again for the drink and ask him what he does.... we spend a few minutes making small talk, and I lean forward and place a hand on his leg as I talk. The touch becomes a stroke, and I know as I feel his cock stir that I can cut to the chase and tell him I need a fuck. He nods with that look on his face that men get when they can't believe their luck, and all thoughts of his wife at home have just seeped out of the end of his cock with his pre-cum. I need to phone you to say we are on our way, so I tell him to sit tight and finish his drink while I go to the toilet. The toilet door shuts behind me, I hit redial and tell you we'll see you shortly as the toilet door bangs shut again...I turn and meet those intense blue eyes and sardonic smile. "Erm.... I think you need to make that ten minutes, Boss." "Make it five," says blue eyes. "You're supposed to bring him upstairs," you say, but he's already got his cock out and a hand in the hot juice from my cunt. "This isn't who I'm bringing," I say, and then moan as he bends me over the sink unit and slides a large erection straight into me. "You're a horny bitch...keep the line open and cum for me," and as he thrusts into me, I hear you light a cigarette, and I moan again, one hand sliding round to frantically rub my clit. It's probably under the five minutes.... blue eyes thrusts hard, and the feeling of his cock swelling before he cums is enough to tip me over the edge, and I buck and moan, face now pressed against the mirror, and the sound of your voice in my ear telling me I'm nothing but a dirty fuckhole. Blue eyes gives me a slap on the arse, and by the time I've recovered enough to even open my eyes, he's gone. I stand up, legs shaky, and return quickly to the bar. Mr. Going-to-seed is watching the door like a puppy and looks relieved as I re-enter the bar...a quick squeeze of his cock to re-assure, and I lead the way to the room. On entering the dimly lit room, it takes our eyes some seconds to adjust, and he's already kissing me as he looks over my shoulder and sees you sitting on the armchair. "Fuck," he says and steps away from me. But you wave your hand and tell him not to worry as you put it, "Fuck her or fuck off, it's all the same to me," and luckily the pull of his cock overcomes any doubts, it always does, and he leads me to the bed and lies down. I stand by the bed, in both your eyelines, and lift the black silk over my head...looking down, his cock is already out, and his trousers hastily pushed to a point that makes him accessible, and so I straddle him on the bed. He groans as I tease the end of his cock at the entrance to my cunt...he can feel the heat and wetness, and then slowly...slowly...I encase him in soft, hot cunt. He grunts with the tightness and slightly bucks his hips to meet me...so I lift my cunt away. "No...just lie still, let me take your spunk." Again, slowly I descend and then rise...he remains perfectly still..his eyes locked on mine....and so we go on. Eventually, he begs to move...he needs to cum....and so I squeeze his cock inside me and up the pace...his eyes are shut, and he joins in with the rocking motion...as he starts to up the pace again, I stop and lift my cunt to encompass just the very tip of his cock and tell him he has to tell me when he's going to cum because I want it in my face. I stay lifted, and he places his hands on my waist and pumps into me from below...faster....his breath shortening, and then suddenly he lifts me up and thrusts my hips away from him...I fall forward to one side of him, and he takes a handful of hair and brings my head to groin level in perfect time for the first pump of spunk to hit me full face....I open my mouth to catch what I can as he gushes cum and then lies next to me, spent on the bed. I look over to you, and you smile and gesture to the bathroom. As I go to close the door, you are there, the second time this evening I've been cornered in a bathroom. "That was wonderful," you say, "as was listening to you fuck the guy downstairs. But I don't remember you asking permission for that one," and once again, my hair is grabbed, and I'm forced into position. This time kneeling on the cold, hard floor. I know what you are going to do and know it needs doing....first, you are going to piss the cum off my face, and then when our visitor has gone, you are going to beat me until I beg for forgiveness.	null	null	Authors/Ms_Blissed/Cheap Hotel.txt
79,085	SweetWhip	Waiting for Him	You are alone at home, obediently waiting for your Master. You do not hear me enter; I quietly come to the room where you sit. I notice that you sit exactly as taught. Sitting on a sofa, legs crossed neatly, back arched straight, breasts poking forward. You are dressed in my favorite clothes. Collared, leash hanging to the side waiting to be pulled. Blindfolded. Black bra and matching panties, the silk ones. From this distance, I can notice the small pieces of paper inside your bra cups, just covering your nipples. I wonder what they will say today. Am I in for a surprise. You do not notice me as I enter. You sit fully relaxed, waiting for your Master to begin proceedings. You have been waiting patiently for me over the past week, eagerly hoping this day comes soon. I move towards you, and you begin to sense my presence. A soft smile appears on your lips. I approach you, removing your blindfold. Our eyes meet, you look up at me with pleasing eyes. I smile inside, not showing you that I am pleased by your appearance. I quickly fish out the paper from your left breast, and it reads "for Your pleasure, Master". I crush the piece of paper, turning it into a small ball before placing it inside your mouth. You look up at me, and I nod, indicating that you should do what pleases me. You begin chewing and slowly swallow the paper. I ask you how your day was. Your smile widens as you say "it passed quickly waiting for you, Master". Your breasts are pushed forward, just like I enjoy. I pinch the left nipple through your bra. You arch your back forward, moaning softly. Your already erect nipples grow harder. I ask what you will do for me today. You answer "whatever pleases Master". I pull your hair, raising your head up. I bend and kiss your neck, trailing my tongue over your skin. You enjoy this immensely, moaning louder now. I feel superior, knowing that my slightest touch sends you to heaven. That I completely own you, and can do with you as I please, as I deem fit. You look into my eyes, dreamily enjoying this pleasure. I pick out the other piece of paper, the one nestled inside your right bra-cup. It read "i am Yours, Master". I again crush it into a ball, placing it inside your mouth. You willingly chew and swallow it, enjoying it as usual. I slap your right breast hard, bouncing it roughly. You moan loudly now. I pinch both nipples together, your head spins back, immense pleasure shooting through your body. You moan, whispering my name. I hold your head in my hands, bringing your face closer to mine as we kiss, softly and passionately. My hand grabs your hair again, pulling your head up again, making you lose control over the kiss. My tongue reaches deep inside your mouth, fucking your mouth with my tongue. You moan into my mouth, I pinch your nipple, you moan louder. Our kiss hardens. My hand moves on your back, feeling your bra clasp, ignoring it, moving further down. My hand reaches your bum, feeling your ass-cheeks through your panties. I can feel something strange underneath the cloth. I peek into the panties from behind and find another note there hanging between your ass cheeks. I take it out, pleasantly surprised, it reads "fuck my ass, Master". I crush it into another ball, feeding it again. Enjoying the fact that you are tasting your own ass cheeks, you smile and grin softly. My hand moves to the front of your panties. As expected, you are wet. I find another note hidden in the front. I read it, a smile appears on my face, not hidden anymore. I come up to give you a hot kiss, our tongues dwelling, your eyes desperately looking at mine. I read the note again. It says "I love you, Master". I feed it to you. You love eating it. The End (for now)	null	null	Authors/SweetWhip/waiting for Him.txt
79,147	Michael	Who is Michael?	Years ago, I had been the snotty-nosed kid who lived down the road from the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. We were neighbors at the time on neighboring farms. It was just a 20-minute walk to her parents' farm. Her parents and my parents were friends and got together sometimes. We even had barbecues during the summers at each other's homes. She was 4 years older than me, and I was 3 years behind her in school. She was a senior the year I became a freshman. She was always nice to me at the family gatherings, but I didn't really exist. I didn't exist at school either. I was just that pimply-faced kid that lived on the next farm and a freshman at the time. Sara and I were the youngest of the children in each family. I was a change-of-life baby and had two older brothers that had already left home, so I didn't learn much from them. Having no sisters, I really knew nothing about girls until I got older. Sara, on the other hand, came from a large family and had sisters and brothers, so I assume she was quite educated on the differences between girls and boys. Because of our age differences, though, I knew I didn't have a chance to get to really know her. She didn't know I had a crush on her ever since I was old enough to know about girls. When I was in the 7th grade, I saw my first Playboy and Penthouse magazines. You know how that is - that's when you really understand what girls are for. Sure, I knew about the birds and the bees and why animals have sex. After all, I lived on a farm, but it didn't really dawn on me until I was educated by some of my friends. That's when my fantasies about her really started, about the time my testosterone was beginning to rage and my body started changing. I didn't see her much while I was in grade school, neither did I see her much during the days when she was a senior in high school and I was a freshman. She was in a completely different social clique. She had her friends, and I had mine. She was active in sports - cross-country, basketball, tennis, and swimming - which got rid of all the baby fat. She didn't really have any anyway. I tried to watch her during her sports activities as much as possible. I was fixated with her. Her body was something to be desired, so beautiful and perfect. All my buddies talked about her and how they wanted to be the one to have sex with her. I assume all the other older guys thought the same way. She was popular, although I didn't see her hang around with the guys that much. I knew she dated. Saw her at school dances and other activities where guys hung around her. I didn't hear anything scandalous about her, though; she was just a nice girl from a nice large family. I suppose having a lot of brothers around scared off most of the guys. I started sneaking over to her house at night when my parents thought I was asleep. I was in the 8th grade back then, when I finally worked up the courage to do it. I was kind of ignored by my parents as I never caused them any trouble, so it was easy. My parents never checked up on me. She lived in an old two-story farmhouse that backed up against a wooded hill that sat behind the house. I found her room the first night I snuck over. It was at the end of the house closest to the hill, a corner room. Her room had large windows that covered both sides of the corner with curtains that I never saw closed. Her bed was positioned so the head was under one window with a side view of it from the other window. I could stand at the window, look in and down onto her bed. I guess she never thought anyone would sneak around behind the house and watch her. There were no other close houses around, and there were never any prowlers this far out in the country. There was a back patio that had plenty of trees and shrubs around it, as did the rest of the backyard. The back door to the patio had a motion detector for the light, but I never activated it during my prowling; I stayed far enough away. There were plenty of places to hide during the daylight hours and shadows to hide in during the night. I had no trouble trying to see into her bedroom and her bathroom as well, because the curtains on the bathroom window were never closed either. How lucky for me. It was not a private bath that opened only into her room but had two doors, one for her bedroom and another to another bedroom. The door to the other room, I saw her lock when she was in the bath, I suppose to give her the privacy she thought she had. I explored the yard carefully when no one was home and plotted out my hiding places and the paths I would take during the evening hours to avoid being caught. If I had to watch from a distance for some reason, a small pair of binoculars solved that problem. The first time I saw her, she was undressing for bed. She was the first girl I had ever seen without any clothes. She was beautiful, more beautiful than any picture in a magazine. The pictures didn't seem real; this was. I was lightheaded as I watched her strip down to her panties. I could barely breathe, my heart caught in my throat, and blood rushed to my cock. It was instantaneous. I thought she was going to slip under the covers when she turned the blankets back on her bed, but when she walked over to a wall mirror and looked at herself in it, I broke out in a sweat. Things got harder for me, painfully harder, when she slipped the panties down and off and started twisting this way and that as she ran her hands over herself. She was nothing like the other girls in school, on the chunky side with baby fat. She was perfect with small perky breasts, a narrow waist, smooth flat stomach, and slender hips and thighs. I almost choked when, after looking at herself, she flicked off the ceiling light and walked over to the bedside table just in front of the window and turned on the lamp. Her small blond patch glistened in the light, drawing my eyes there. I didn't think to back away from the window out of the light so as not to be seen, but stood there fixed to the spot. I thought she didn't see me, for she stood there for several long seconds looking out the window, turned, and slipped under the blankets and reached over and turned out the light. I stood there trying to see in for several more minutes and seeing nothing but darkness; I finally left and went home. After that, my fantasies about her grew. She was always on my mind, the only girl I could think about. Each and every time I would jack off, I thought of her, pictured her in my mind. Wet dreams were hard on me, and I had to take to wearing shorts to bed to keep from staining the sheets. I snuck over there as often as I could to watch her. Sometimes I would never get to see her, but when I did, she always did a kind of strip-tease after locking her doors. Sometimes this was done standing in front of the side window where the bedside light would shine upon her, and while undressing, would run her hands over her body like she was showing off, wanting me to see her. That was difficult for me to watch without jacking off right there in front of the window. I didn't know then that she could see me standing there, that she was teasing me and watching me jack off. She had gotten a job after school and on weekends at the grocery store in town and would come home late. One time I happened to be there watching outside her window when she came home really late on a Friday night, acting strange as she was undressing to get into the shower. She had taken off her panties and looked at them, ran her finger through the crotch feeling something there, sniffed them, and wiped herself with them before she stepped into the shower. I didn't know then what it meant at the time. It was a short time after that I watched her shave in the shower. She removed most of her golden patch carefully, working around her pussy, leaving only a small golden patch on her mound. I was fascinated watching her do it and very highly aroused. When she finished, I watched her lean back in the tub and take the hand-held sprayer and get herself off. I came in my pants before I could get it out. I would also watch her lay on her bed and do it with her fingers. She started doing that a lot after that, sometime after she got the job at the store. I was fascinated by her doing it and would jack off watching her, trying to cum the same time she did. It wasn't until later I knew the real reason why she was doing it. She was not only still teasing me, but she was having sex and liked doing it. When I became a freshman in her senior year, I joined cross-country to try to see more of her in school and tried to run with her, but although she was nice to me, I didn't fit into her group.I often watched her from afar, at basketball games and practice and the other sports she played. I found it hard to try to talk to her. I would choke up and get sweaty. On weekends, I would sometimes sneak over during the day when no one was home and try the windows to see if they were open. On one of those occasions, I found the bathroom window unlocked and finally got up enough courage to crawl in. When I did that, I discovered the lock was defective and would not lock all the time. I made sure after that that it never locked. The first time I snuck in, I took a pair of her soiled panties and used them to masturbate as I fantasized about her. It was later, after she had gotten the job and I had begun watching her masturbate, that I discovered panties in her hamper that were covered in slimy cum. I knew right away what it was; I knew then she was having sex with some guy. I got jealous knowing some guy was doing her. I tried to find out who it was by watching her even closer at school and during the after-school activities, but never saw her with any guy that she seemed close to. I didn't have a car, so I couldn't watch her at work to see if there was a guy there. I determined that was where it had to be, a guy at work. It only happened when she got home late from work on Friday and Saturday nights, and it wasn't every Friday and Saturday night at first. It seemed to happen one or two times a month, as I kept sneaking in and digging through her soiled clothes hamper. There were times, though, it turned out to be every Friday and Saturday night. After several months of finding evidence of her sexual activity and being devastated by it, I explored her bedroom and bathroom a little more thoroughly. I found her birth control pills. This was the real proof. I was heartbroken. I had considered her mine, wanted her to be mine. I was the one that snuck over and watched her, became intimate with her beautiful body, knew every golden hair, every fold and crease of her pussy from my watching her. She was all I could dream about every night and see every day in my fantasies. It was almost too much to bear. That was when I became determined to have her. I was going to take her some night in her bed after I snuck in. I started planning. Thinking about it made me hard, and after digging through her hamper, I selected a pair of black lacy panties and masturbated in them while sitting on her bed. I was determined to do it, to have her. It was a month later on a very warm Friday night when I got my chance, when I finally worked up enough courage to do it. Well, it wasn't just a warm night, it was hot. The weather had been hot for days, with the temperature over 100 for the last several days. This was just before she graduated and moved out. It was now or never as I dressed in black gym shorts, no underwear, a black t-shirt and slip-on sneakers. I carried no identification and had a pair of latex gloves to wear. I was sweating hard as I dressed, the excitement of what I was planning added with the heat, increased the sweat that was soaking my t-shirt and shorts. I guess I had been watching too many detective stories on TV now that I think back on it. What a dumb kid I was. There was already evidence of me all over her bedroom and bath. Anyway, I arrived by her window just after dark and waited. The hot, still night was almost unbearable. I almost cancelled when the moon came up. It was a full moon and bright. I was really glad I had dressed in black and sat back in the shadows. It was just before 11:00 when I heard her drive up. I waited with anticipation for her to enter her room and turn on the lights. I could feel the blood rushing to my cock and could feel myself already getting hard. I was fully hard when she finally entered and walked around turning on the lights in her room. I moved closer to the window and discovered with delight that she had moved her bed sideways and up against the windows, which were open, I suppose to catch what little breeze there was in the evenings. There was none tonight. The still air was stifling. She was wearing that dress that made a guy hard just seeing her in it. Sometimes when she wore it to school, it was the talk of all the guys. I imagine the male teachers were excited to see her wear it too. It was miserable for me when I saw her in it. I could see she was tired as she didn't shower like she usually does before bed but just stripped and, after pulling back the sheets and blankets, she turned off the lights and lay down on top of the sheet. I thought she was going to pull the top sheet up over her when she reached over and turned off the bedside light. I was disappointed about the darkness, I wanted her to leave the light on for a while so I could look at her, but I choked up when I saw that the moonlight illuminated her beautiful body for me. It was going to be light enough for me to see her while I... [text ends abruptly]They started talking about Sara taking off for the weekend when she came back. I overheard all of this. It was later that day she would take off, and I figured I could slip away from work long enough to follow her. She indicated she would be alone. This was my lucky break. I wasn't going to let this opportunity slip by. I found out everything - where she was going, the time she would arrive, the name of the lodge, and phone numbers. Everything I needed. When I followed them out of the restaurant, I called ahead and made my reservation in the same lodge. I would have only the one night. I had to work the next day. I got there later than I wanted, but things worked out okay. After I got my room and cleaned up, I dressed in sweats and went back to find the hostess and get the information I needed. It was easy to get her room number, and I was surprised my room was across from hers. When I went back to my room to figure out what I was going to do, I tried her door and was surprised it wasn't locked. When I quietly opened the door and stepped in, it was like a flashback to that night when I snuck into her room and saw her laying on her bed. My heart stopped beating, got caught in my throat, and I broke out in a sweat. I thought I would die when she looked at me. It took me seconds to say anything, and I started to back out. When she called me back and indicated I was to sit on the bed beside her, everything rushed to the right places. I got instantly hard, harder than I'd been in a long while, as I turned and locked the door. When I sat beside her and pulled down the blanket and sheet, and ran my hands over her and looked at her, all the energy and frustration of those long past times I had watched her came flooding back. Her body was heaven, and I was going to enter it. Making love to her was everything I had imagined. The kisses were long and deep, the taste of her was exquisite, and when I first entered her, I truly thought I entered heaven. That night we made love like rabbits, pausing only for seconds of recovery before going again. With her was the only time I had ever remained hard for so long. I had three releases into her before I softened and had to rest. Even then, we hardly ever stopped until I had to leave the next morning. I hated walking out, not knowing if I could come back. I made up some dumb excuse and left, completely worn out and tired, hoping I had enough strength to make it through work. She asked for my name, and I told her it was Michael. I thought she would figure out who I was then, but saw in her eyes no recognition. I didn't tell her my last name. Even though I was exhausted, I put in a full day at work, worrying what Sara would think of me for walking out. Would she be there if I got back? I was lucky I got one of my buddies to fill in on my night shift, and I headed back to the lodge as soon as I got away from the job. I hadn't unpacked, so all I had to do was get in the car and go. It was late when I arrived, and when I quizzed the hostess of the lodge, she indicated Sara had been inquiring about me and was a little upset at me. She was still there, though, and in her room. I had only this night to be with her again, as I had to be back at work tomorrow, and I indicated this to the hostess. I sweet-talked her out of a key to Sara's room and ran up the stairs, only to find her passed out when I entered. I could see she had taken a heavy dose of meds and tried to wake her, only to have her come partially awake like she was drunk. She acted like she knew I was there and didn't hesitate to jump my bones like a sex-crazed maniac. I couldn't believe it - we again made love all night. It was slow, passionate love-making; she anticipated my every move and gyrated her pussy and hip movements in rhythm with each of my thrusts and kept up with me. It was beautiful. I hated for it to end the next morning as I gazed at her, still in deep sleep. Still, I had to leave and hesitated to wake her. I left notes to her around the room, leaving my number for her to call, and wondered if she would since I kept sneaking away. I didn't see her again for another two weeks. I waited anxiously for her to call, and she never did. I finally took matters into my own hands and went to her office one morning, trying to find her. I saw her arrive at work and knew the office was usually locked around 11:00 to 1:00 each day for lunch. I came into the building just as the receptionist was getting ready to lock up and go to lunch, and I told her I was there to take Sara to lunch and would wait for her to come down to the lobby. There was no need for her to hang around - I had called Sara, and she was expecting me. The receptionist left for lunch, as did most of the building occupants. It seemed I had stood around for no more than 5 minutes when Sara came out of her office and saw me. I walked toward her, and seeing her smile at me, I indicated for her to be quiet by placing my finger over my mouth and waved for her to follow me. I knew where I wanted to go - there was a supply closet just ahead that would do nicely. I had seen a person come out of it earlier while I was waiting in the lobby, carrying some legal tablets, so I led us toward it. I wanted her alone and out of sight of others if there was anyone around. When she caught up to me, I waved her to pass, and as she passed, I opened the door and took her by the waist and pulled her into the room. I really didn't know what to expect from her, but when her lips searched and met mine, I knew I had her, and she wanted me. There was no need for words as our passion for one another exploded in pure lust. My hands were all over her as I pulled up the hem of her short skirt and rubbed her pussy through her panties and felt her wetness. I slipped her panties down, and she kicked them off as I cupped her, inserting my fingers and rubbing her clit. She trembled and moaned as her orgasm began, and the walls of her pussy clenched my fingers. I held her up with one hand on her pussy and the other around her back. When she reached down and loosened my belt and let my pants fall to the floor and then rubbed me and felt my hardness, I knew there was no turning back. I had to be inside her. As I was holding my hard cock at the ready for her swollen pussy, she jumped up and wrapped her legs around me. My hands went to her hips to hold her with my cock rubbing against the inviting wetness of her. As I tried to position it, she suddenly pushed herself away and blurted out something like it's not safe. I wasn't really listening. It was too late for me. I was at the point of no return - I had to be inside her, my balls ached with the need. She kept struggling and saying things I didn't understand or didn't want to hear. I gripped her hips harder and held her to me as I finally heard "not safe and use condoms". I remember saying I didn't like to use condoms or something like that. She was leaning back on some boxes, struggling, trying to sit up and to get me to stop when I felt the swollen head of my cock at her opening. I gripped her hips harder and pulled her to me as I thrust in hard and buried myself in her. I felt her tightness around me as she moaned, sat up, and tried to push me away and hold me at the same time. She wrapped her legs around me and locked her ankles. She tried to keep me from thrusting while biting my neck, I guess to get me to stop, but I pushed her back against the boxes and continued my assault. I finally heard her say something about birth control and she wasn't safe, but I didn't care. I was inside her, and I wouldn't stop. When I pulled her blouse free and started sucking and fondling her breasts, I felt her surrender as she dropped her arms and leaned back on the boxes and spasmed in another release. Her moans only encouraged me. Sweat from me was dripping down on her as I spread her legs wider, lifting her hips up and pounding harder into her. We were both moaning and grunting as we got closer to release. My groin was slapping against hers as I felt myself getting close. I moaned a desperate moan as I tried to hold myself still, deep inside her, to keep from cumming, but it was too late. I felt myself stiffen more as my cock pulsed and flexed as it pumped into her, and I pushed in deeper. Her body spasmed with mine as an orgasm rushed through her in tune with mine. We played with each other and came several times after that in lustful love. I surprised myself when, after my last release into her, I ate her out. That was something I had never done before, eaten a cum-soaked pussy. I liked it, and I brought her to another orgasm. She was recovering when we heard voices that ended our escapade. We quickly dressed, finally talking, and quietly left the closet before we were discovered and walked to her office. She had lost my phone number and couldn't call. She wanted me to wait for her in her office as she went to clean up, but I couldn't stay. I left a note on her desk with my phone number and left. I saw her watching me as I walked out the door. I am waiting for her to call. I need her to call.	null	Chapter 3	Authors/sara692/Michael Chapter 3.txt
79,335	carter	Prison Diaries - the prelude	You knew when you were fifteen. You knew there were girls who did and girls who didn't. You knew there were things you could do, and things you couldn't get away with. But I also knew there were things that no one talked about or explored. Or admitted to exploring. I was walking home from a summer's night wasted hanging round a local cottage. No one worth a second look had shown up, and I was grumpy and horny. So I walked home along the canal bank, and up to the field below the flats. The noise was pretty clear immediately. Lads talking and laughing, and a girl crying and gasping. Real, angry, humiliated crying, nothing simulated, or mocking, just tears. The noise was coming from the corner of the field, in the shadow of the fence. I walked towards the noise. Not much made me scared. Not amongst the kids my own age on our estate. People didn't even call me a poof, though a few of the boys knew what I did. What did I do? I fucked anything that walked on two legs. Men. Women. Men who dressed as women. Boys who showed weakness. Girls who showed willing. I didn't know if I gave off signals, but people seemed to know. They didn't know the whole story. They didn't need to. If I came by my strength of will through the experience of being weak, they didn't need to know. If I learned to enjoy fucking older men by not enjoying being fucked by older men, they didn't need to know. So I didn't feel scared going to find out what the noise was. I recognized two of the boys stood with their backs to me. The Protheroes. Michael and Danny. I'd fucked Michael. They were standing watching. They were followers, not leaders. The third boy was Digs. He passed as a leader in a dim light. Wayne Dougherty. A grade A cunt. A bully, even by my standards. And a coward. The Protheroes were in awe of him. They were some kind of cousins. The kind of cousins who'd inter-married once too often if you asked people who knew. Digs was fucking Andrea Gregory. I liked Andrea. She wasn't liking what Digs was doing to her. It didn't take much thought really. The Protheroes fucked off as soon as I glowered at them. Digs took a little longer. A kick in the arse speeded him up. One of the reasons why I liked Andrea was because she was sexy in a pretty, 14-year-old with tits too large for her frame kind of way. I liked, too, the way she chatted and laughed and joked with me. She didn't seem put off by my reputation or the fact that I was better at being tough than I was at being funny. Lying there, her jeans pulled down, her t-shirt up, tits out of her bra, she looked frail, weak, but sexy. I sat down next to her, as if nakedness wasn't unusual. She didn't seem to want to move. So I sat there. I'd learned patience. The first thing she said was 'I didn't want it like this.' I listened. She'd fancied Michael Protheroe. She'd liked the idea that he was quieter than the other boys. Not scary. Except that he'd set her up for his brother and Digs. So it was rough, and nasty, and the end of her virginity, with a cry and a whimper, and the Protheroes not lasting much longer than Digs the first time, before Digs had started a second go. At which point I'd arrived. Her mum and dad were out. She was shaking and crying. No one was going to help her. I helped her get dressed, and hung my denim jacket round her shoulders for the walk up the hill, and on to her house. I remembered a sick feeling in my guts, and the anger, and the way I'd felt completely alone, walking back home late from choir practice and terrified they'd all know as soon as I walked in the house. Except that no one noticed, and no one even asked, and no one could explain why I woke up in the middle of the night and realised that I was aroused, and tempted, and wishing he was there again to make me feel like I wasn't alone in the world. So I walked Andrea home, and tried to persuade her I could understand, except I couldn't tell her. She let me follow her into the house. It was still not nine o'clock, and her mum and dad wouldn't be home till the pub closed. She wasn't one of the girls who had a name for letting boys into the house when mum and dad were out, or when she was babysitting. She was angry. She wanted to have a bath, but she wanted to talk to me. She wanted to say thank you, but she didn't want me to think she was stupid. All that came out in under a minute. I tried to be cool. I tried to be uninterested. I told her I wished I'd fucked her. I told her I wished I'd taken my chance. I told her she was lovely, and sexy. She didn't say a word. She stood and stared at me. Then she told me Michael and Digsy had said I was a poof. That was why she'd walked home with me, why she'd let me in the house, why she thought I hadn't joined in. I didn't really recognize my voice. I explained I'd fucked Michael Protheroe. That I could fuck his brother if I wanted to. That I'd fuck Digs till he bled when I got the chance, to teach him his place. That I could fuck her better than any of them had. She told me to go away, that I was being scary. So what? Scary was what made them run away when I arrived. Scary was what made me stop being a victim, and victim was what she was. I made the point by grabbing her right breast. She flinched, but didn't try to get away. I was committed. She was frozen, like an animal that suddenly knows the hunter was there all along. When I pushed her back against the table, with my legs between her thighs, she pushed back, but stopped again as soon as I raised my hands. That gave me time to get my hands under her t-shirt, to push it up so it was over her head, to pull her bra up so her tits were exposed. She started to say something. Pinching her nipples and twisting them stopped her. Blindfolded by her own clothes, she fell back onto the table. Stripping her from the waist down took just seconds, even if her panties caught on the stickiness between her legs. I grabbed the green nylon scouring pad off the draining board, and rubbed her pussy with it. She reacted, twisting away from its touch, but then freezing when I ran my thumb over the pinkness of her clit. I bent over her and put my hand to her throat. 'They didn't know where to touch did they? Is that where you rub yourself when you're in bed?' She didn't speak, or move her hand, but when my hand went back to her clit she tried to squirm away. Slapping her thighs stopped that, but only temporarily. Her bra provided the answer. Tangled under her arms it was just a mess. Pulled off her, looped round her neck, it made a halter that I could use to control her, twisting it to remind her. It gave me one-handed control of her while I worked on her clit with my other hand. All the time I talked to her, about how this was how it was, how being turned on and out of control were all part of the same thing. I rubbed her clit with the scourer again, and she came. I put my mouth close to her ear, tightening the cloth ligature around her neck. I told her the choices. I could choke her till she passed out, then fuck her, or she could ask me to fuck her. One choice ran the risk of me getting it wrong and killing her, and the other... The other ran the risk that she would give herself away. She called me a bastard, and a swine. A punch in the ribs fixed that. She started to cry again; I scoured her nipples with the nylon pad, and she made a coughing, swallowing, choking noise that was followed, breathlessly, with a plea for me to fuck her. I made her say it again, louder, without the throaty, crying noise, and, when she complied, got my cock into her. I waited till she was aroused, and gasping, building towards orgasm, before I started to choke her again. I waited until her eyelids started to flutter before I let go. When she'd finished coming and crying she said 'I thought you wouldn't do that if I asked...' I carried on fucking her, and told her 'I lied.' It took another ten minutes for me to come. She'd choked to the point of passing out, mucus and spit around her nose and mouth, and was at the very edge of hysteria. I helped her upstairs to the bathroom, washed her face, stroked her hair, told her she was safe if she let me do these things. As I walked down the street I looked for her mum and dad's car coming up the street. I knew the next eight hours were dangerous. Next morning, we got the school bus from the bottom of the road. She sat by me. She rested her head on my shoulder in a tiny show of intimacy that I allowed because the top deck was empty until we got to the next estate. I squeezed her thigh till she yelped. She looked at me. 'Why?' I left my hand on her thigh."Because you enjoyed last night," she looked around, as if checking there was no one on the bus. "You said you'd done things to them. Are you like this with them?" I ran my finger along the rough material of her school skirt. "I'm worse. Far worse." She wanted to know more. I told her to wait till lunchtime, to meet me on the field by the farm, and I'd tell her. She didn't know about the farm. About seven people in the school did - the deputy head, another teacher, me, and four other boys. More people knew about what made the farm possible, though. They knew this was a school where boys could be as much the object of sexual attention as any girl. A school where the deputy head and a small group of teachers saw the pupils as theirs to use as they saw fit. Not that unusual for the 1970s, if truth be told. The farm grew out of that. I knew men who liked boys like me. I'd grown not to like it. Grown up faster maybe. I had a theory that most of the men I knew who liked to bend boys over had been bent over themselves at some stage. Most of them were bisexual as well. Married, with wives and kids of their own, they'd fuck anyone who couldn't or wouldn't argue back. And they were grateful to their co-conspirators, the ones who'd share. So I planned and schemed, and passed messages to make sure everything went to plan. Digs got the message that I wanted to meet him to sort out the previous night's mistake. Someone else told him I was scared of him. Mr. Harries, the music teacher, got the message that the farm would be in business at 12:30. I walked down the field with Andrea, making chat about how she was. She'd been shaky, apparently. Scared that someone would know, that someone would talk about it. Scared that I'd talked. As we approached the farm, she saw Digs coming, and she stopped. I held her hand, told her she could trust me. Digs thought he could trust me too. He wasn't to know. As we turned the corner to the farm, through the little wooden bridge over the ditch, I could see the cars. Three of them; a Cortina, a Maxi, and a Granada estate. That meant the message had got through. Andrea stood between me and Digs. She didn't want to look at him. He thought that meant he was going to get a second go at her, that there were options for him. I shook my head. "Have you heard about what happens in that barn, Digs?" He licked his lips. I smiled. At least I knew what was going to happen. I squeezed Andrea's hand. "Here's how it goes, Digs. If you want to go home tonight, you go in that barn, you strip, and the guys in those cars will fuck you and you'll suck their cocks." "Fuck off..." "The other choice is I batter you, they fuck you and kill you, and you don't go home. Take your pick, Digs..." Shock made his words sound hollow. "Fuck off..." "Your call, Digs. Remember Kenny Jones ran away and didn't come back?" Digs started to speak, then stopped. Did he believe I'd do it? A sharp punch to the guts and a kick in the balls, and he believed. He let me half shove, half push him to the door of the barn. Behind me, I heard car doors slam. Digs heard them too. He tried to get away. He failed. And he gave in. He stripped himself. Perhaps he imagined there was still a way out. The men were on him in an instant. A hand cupped his balls and teased his flaccid cock. Another hand ran up his bare chest and pinched his nipples. From my angle, I couldn't see the hand that probed his arse, but from the expression on his face, I knew it was happening. Over the next twenty minutes, they turned him inside out. He didn't even have the respite of sucking some of them off. He made the mistake of biting someone's cock, and got a punch that smashed teeth and shredded his lips. After that, it was just repeated buggery, one man after another. None of them lasted long, and none of them made any pretence of trying to please him. I felt Andrea shaking next to me, and hugged her. I kept repeating to her that this was what happened to people who crossed me. I took her away before what I knew would follow. She didn't need to see Dirty John strangle Digs and put him into the back of his Maxi. The talk was that if you were good enough, John smuggled you away to Bristol, to a house where men used you and gave you pocket money, but that option wasn't going to be open to Digsy. How did I know? I couldn't say. I just knew, and Andrea didn't need to know any of it. She'd seen the blood on Digsy's face and on his thighs, she'd seen him crying and nearly passing out. She knew enough, so I walked her back to school, and told her I'd meet her that night at the youth club. Except I never got to youth club. Just after tea time, there was a knock at the door. Dirty John was stood there with another man. He had a card in his hand, like a season ticket for the bus. I'd only ever known him as Dirty John, a man who fucked anything weaker than him in the cottages and outdoor spots known to queer men all over our end of Wales. Not as Detective Sergeant Lloyd. The man with him was a social worker, apparently. I don't know what they said to my mam and dad in the kitchen, what they told them, but they both looked away as I was led to the car. The same dirty green Maxi that I'd guessed Digs was going on his last ride in. My ride was somewhat shorter; fifteen minutes to the police station, where Dirty John told one of the coppers to put me in a cell. I was left there for hours. It felt like hours. Eventually, Dirty John came and sat in the cell with me. He sounded drunk. Drunk or not, the story he had to tell was blunt. I was too big for my boots. Digs had been disposed of. Andrea was being dealt with. People would think they'd run away together. That left me. John had told my parents about my having sex in toilets with men. They'd agreed to my being taken into care. That way, I wouldn't cause any more trouble. I could choose. Co-operate in care, or die in care. Kids in children's homes often topped themselves, so might I, if I didn't co-operate. I blustered, I raged, and I argued. He listened, then he got up and left. The door clanged behind him, and I stared at the walls. More time passed. The other man came in. He introduced himself as a social worker. He explained that they knew I was beyond my parents' control. Did I want to tell him why I was doing such dangerous and risky things, hanging round places where older men congregated? He picked away for about ten minutes, wanting answers. I tried to look at a point on the wall over his head. I was so angry I wanted to scream and cry, to punch him and to run away, but all I could do was sit straight-backed on the bunk against the wall, and wait for him to stop. They came back for me after midnight. John, another social worker, and a uniformed copper. They put me in the back of a van, my hands cuffed behind me. I fell off the bench along the sides of the van the first time it went round a corner, probably the one by the primary school before the railway bridge. Every corner thereafter, I was rattled round like a pea in a whistle. When the van stopped, I was grateful, and sick, and sore, not as sore as I felt when they put a coat over my head, and took turns fucking me up the arse, but sore enough to want to puke. When they'd finished, John started talking. "Where you're going, they'll report back to me. Any word that you're being out of order, I'll come and get you, and hang you. Understood?" I understood. A man had been found hanging in the woods last year. They said he'd been playing with himself and had gone too far, too kinky. I figured John knew different.	null	Part 1	Authors/Carter/pdpt1.txt
79,461	Hamilton Joyce	The Boss's Wife	You've probably heard of the pharmaceuticals giant Hopper and Forbes Ltd. I joined them as Retail Sales Manager after thirteen years in the army, which I left as a lieutenant colonel. I was responsible for retail sales across Europe and had three Regional Managers reporting to me, UK, Northern, and Mediterranean. Each of them had a couple of dozen or so sales managers and reps. They often call the drugs business the 'ethical industry'. Ethical my arse! At the lowest level, my reps bullied small local pharmacies into taking our products, fixing our publicity to their walls with four-inch masonry nails! Higher up, buyers were bribed or coerced into exclusive contracts. The cartel fixed prices. Our lawyers pursued Africans or Asians who copied our over-priced drugs to produce them at prices their nations could afford. But my job was easy: any manager who complains about stress should try creeping along a forest trail in the dark waiting for some hotheaded little fanatic to open up with his Kalashnikov. No, the real trouble was the Marketing Director, my boss, Reginald Slack. Short, fat, balding, he was a bully. He was obsequious to the Chairman and civil to his fellow directors, but a bastard of the first water to his subordinates. He did not bully me, though, as I assume he found me physically intimidating. I'm six feet, fourteen stone of muscle and bone, play rugby through the winter (I was a Scottish trialist wing-threequarter), and a mean game of squash all year. Also, I don't talk much. Silence can be intimidating too. No, I don't bully easily. How a fat slob got a wife like that, heaven only knows. Round the table that first dinner party to introduce me to my colleagues were my three managers and my opposite number the Wholesale Manager. The only feminine company was Reginald's wife, Joy. And what a joy she was! I worked out she must have been about forty (she had a daughter by her first marriage, at University now). But she had the figure of a teenage girl. Picture if you can an ash-blonde about five feet six. She was wearing a long dress, but you could see she had pretty, pert little tits, a lovely flat belly, and the cutest, jutting arse. I later found out how slender and fine her legs were. Apart from her, the dinner party was dreadful. Reginald monopolized the conversation. I could not be bothered to disagree with his views, which politically were somewhat to the right of Attila the Hun. The young men always agreed with him. He was sounding off about immigration when his lovely wife got up and asked him to help clear the dishes. He just kept on talking. I leaped up and followed her to the kitchen. 'I'm afraid Reginald's a bit of a fascist, especially when he's had a glass or two. My father was a Romanian refugee from the Nazis, you know. I do wish he wouldn't go on so about immigrants.' I made no comment. I agreed, but could hardly say so! 'Now what I want you to do is to stir this over the hot-plate while I whisk up a soufflé.' The eggs were broken and separated already, and a stiffening mix made earlier. I kept the sauce from catching while she put the dish together and popped it into the oven. As she stooped, I had a lovely view of her décolletage: her evening gown stood out slightly from her bosom, and I could see she had a blonde's pink nipples, but that she sunbathed topless. As we chatted, I found her first husband had been, like me, in the army, a young lieutenant. But he had not been so lucky as me, and a Belfast sniper's bullet had found him. She had studied modern languages, Italian and French at University, but with a daughter and two boys by her second marriage, she now worked from home, doing technical and legal translation. The boys were at boarding school, against her wishes. We had a lot in common, army, same university (I was there three years before her, but also read languages, Italian and German), and the same problem with Reginald. She bent down to look through the glass oven door. 'Just perfect!' I found myself agreeing, though in my case it was her matchless butt! Why I did what I did next I'll never know. I assume she had been making signals that I picked up subconsciously. Anyway, I stooped, put a hand on each of her hips and lifted her, turning her to stand facing me. I spoke in Italian...in fact, from that moment, we both used Italian when alone together. It is a wonderful language for love. 'God. You're lovely. I could eat you out!' 'I might just hold you to that, Mungo! But nothing waits for a soufflé. Put that sauce in the two gravy-boats, and take it through. I'll follow.' Her pride in the magnificent dish was patent. And justified. She looked happy for the first time that evening as the rapid business of serving while it was still rising was done. But Reginald hardly paused in his monologue. I let him get on with it until Joy, who like me had been mainly silent, objected to his views on genetic modification. 'But, dearest, you can't say that selective breeding animals on farms or plants in nurseries is the same as GM. There's no way a farmer can selectively breed a gene from a fish into a tomato, or from an elephant into a cabbage.' 'Bloody muck and mystery again. No science. Just muck and mystery.' He spoke vehemently with his mouth full. Little gobbets of potato and soufflé sprayed about. Rude and disgusting, I thought. I chipped in. 'A lot of people just know it's wrong. I don't go along entirely with the Gaia theory, but I suspect that if we do foul things, there are consequences. We knew instinctively it was wrong to feed cattle with dead sheep and cows, but we did. And we got bovine spongiform encephalopathy as our reward. BSE, and then it's spread to humans as CJD. We still feed cows on chicken shit!' 'You didn't do science at University, Mungo?' 'No, Reginald. Languages, like your delightful wife.' 'Huh! So a fat lot you know about it! Or her either, come to that!' (He took a third in chemistry at some crap little northern poly...making him a great scientist in his own opinion.) I shut up. Not worth the hassle. Then I felt her stockinged foot reach under the table and rub my leg. I looked across and caught a momentary secret smile, just for me. I slipped my shoe off and rubbed my foot up her calf till it rested between her thighs. I felt her thighs close on it, squeezing it. It was the sexiest thing, I assure you. Her hair shone, gold to her bare shoulders, as she looked demurely down at her plate. But my foot was between her thighs. I wished it was bare, or that I could reach that extra few inches and rest it in her crotch. But the table was too wide. We both knew an agreement had been made! She called me at about eleven. 'I've got some shopping in town this afternoon. Wouldn't it be nice to meet up for some lunch together?' We had a quick, light lunch at a restaurant I seldom used for business. It was best to stay fairly anonymous. She was happy and animated, and I behaved myself. She took my arm as we left the restaurant, and was not in the slightest perturbed when I guided her left to the staircase instead of right to the exit. The room was quite charming. Oak beams and antique furniture. The bed was a huge four-poster. She went to the window and drew the curtains open. The sun shone in her golden hair, and I could see the silhouette of her legs through her chiffon frock. We fell into each other's arms, kissing. Amazingly, we had reached this near-intimacy without once kissing. But we made up for it. Her arms were round me, feeling the strength in my shoulders through my summer suit. I had one arm in the small of her back, the other resting on her rounded arse. We kissed, her tongue slipping in and out my mouth. 'You're going to eat me. Remember? And I'm going to eat you, Tiger.' The chiffon slipped to her ankles, and she stepped out of it. She kicked her slippers off and was laying on the bed, even before I had my shoes and socks off. I felt my cock harden from the semi-erect of our embrace to full erection as I stripped, looking at her sweet body, trim in grey lacy bra and panties. 'Mm! I haven't seen one of these for a long, long while!' She grasped my cock, while I, laying beside her, slipped my hand down the waist of her panties. She was smooth, shaven, and I felt her plumping lips and then the sleek, slippery of her inner lips. 'Let me....' I knelt and slipped her panties down, as she raised her hips to help me. 'Now...' I was half on top of her, my mouth over her cunt. My tongue found her clit and I licked, nibbled and sucked. She sighed, but immediately I felt the warmth of her mouth round my knob. I was careful to let her come three times, with increasing violence, without coming myself. Each time, she forgot to suck me, but I was in no danger of losing my hard-on as I licked and kissed, squeezing her lovely tits or stroking her firm, oh-so-slightly rounded belly. Then, as she was still shuddering in orgasm, I moved on top of her and slipped my cock into her plump, wet, welcoming cunt. I could feel her orgasm as it gripped, squeezed and massaged my cock.Then we were fucking. Her eyes rolled, and her hands tore at my back. I ignored the pain in the pleasure of having her lovely body, in the flattery of her passion for mine. I made sure my cock rode hard against her clit with each thrust, and found myself using iron control to stop myself from coming. And then she was coming again, this time with great rolling pulses in her vagina, and her hips heaving up to meet my thrusts, our bellies clashing together. I buried my face in her neck, kissing and licking, and felt her nipples pressing my chest as my weight compressed her breasts. I was coming. A spurt of hot cum deep inside her with each spasm of her orgasm, our bodies parting only to crash together, another gush of hot cum, another rolling pulse through her body. Finally, I rolled off her and we lay side-by-side, both astounded at the power of our lovemaking. 'You know, Joy, I've never felt...' 'Nor me, Mungo. Nor me. It's never been like that. And it's been so long.' 'Reginald...?' 'Piggy hasn't been able to for years now. I'd almost forgotten what it could be like with a partner.' ..................................................... We met every Sunday morning, when her husband was at the golf club. I used to shower and wait naked for her to ring the doorbell. About the third visit, I discovered she liked it kinky, and especially to be tied up and blindfolded. It was the first of those kinky sessions that I filmed without her knowing. I often choose that video for solo masturbation sessions. It is good to remember her willing mouth and cunt, to look again at her handcuffed hands spreading her arse cheeks for me to anally penetrate her. From that session onwards, I filmed our bed-wrestling with two hidden cameras, and later edited it down to good amateur pornographic films. This went on for about six months, until one working day she asked me to meet her at the hotel we first used. I booked a table... and a room! At least she had the courage to tell me face-to-face. I've had girls text me, phone me, write me, email me, but most don't confront you! 'I want to end this affair, Mungo.' 'Someone else?' 'Well, yes. He's a real hunk, but younger. And he loves me, which I know you never did.' 'Do you love him?' She laughed. 'Good lord no. But he's a wonderful fuck. The best I've ever known.' I thought, 'Bitch! Better than me is what you're nearly saying.' But I just smiled, hiding my anger. And that was that. ................................................... It was soon after that I decided to give Reginald's daughter a call. To tell the truth, I was feeling randy being cut off from my regular sex with his wife. I had seen her photos, and had copied her number from Joy's notebook. Fiona was blonde, like her mother. As we entered the restaurant, her long, fine hair contrasted with her black coat. Her pretty ankles peeped from under the coat, in their gold high-heeled slippers. When she took the coat off and handed it to a waiter, every head in the place turned. She was lovely! The gold satin of her trousers hugged her body almost obscenely. Certainly, there was no doubt that her legs were long and slender, her buttocks rounded and pert, and her cunt delicately mounded. But it was her shoulders that made men gasp! Her gold satin bustier hugged that slim waist, and then somehow stood away from her breasts: you could see her cleavage was natural! Her tanned shoulders were bare, except for the blonde hair that flowed over them. As we ate and drank, every time she leaned forward, I could see her rosy nipples. Waiters hovered behind her, looking down into those delights. In the taxi, we kissed, and my searching hand confirmed her breasts were as firm and rounded as they had seemed to my eager eyes. Her hand was on my cock, itself firm under my pants. She murmured her appreciation of this. By the time we had got to my room, we were both incredibly aroused. We were tearing our clothes off, dumping them in a tangled heap on the carpet. She stood, naked, by the bed. We embraced, and as we kissed, she pushed me backwards. Still kissing, we landed on the bed, her on top of me. I would have waited to enjoy that fabulous body at more leisure, but her arms were around me, pressing her breasts into my chest. Her legs were open and astride mine. My cock was hard against her crotch. She must have been really wet and excited because as we writhed together, it just slipped in. She had the same tight, muscular cunt as her mother, gripping and squeezing my cock as I slipped in and out. She was fucking me, rather than vice versa. I hardly dared move, I was so hot for her. Then she propped herself on her elbows and I saw her breasts. It was too much. I could not help myself. I came. Great pulses ran through me as I pumped my load into her. 'You came?' These were the first words she had uttered since reaching my room. My first words were an apology, and asking her to kneel. I was still erect, and I entered her from behind, slipping into her pretty cunt, and resting my belly against the lovely round melons of her buttocks. 'Now!' Her buttocks were grinding against my belly. I grasped her hips with both hands, and slapped in and out of her, slow at first, then faster and faster. Her round bottom, slim waist, and broad, swimmer's shoulders were driving my pleasure. I kissed her back, and reached under her to clutch one breast. Again that lovely round firmness, with the hard little nub of her nipple. She was close now, and I heard her mutter 'Daddy! Daddy!' I doubted Reginald had ever had her, from what I knew of his impotence. It's possible, of course, he had been having sex with his daughter, but could not get it up for his wife. Anyway, the feel of her breasts was too much for me again, and I was coming, deep in her. This time I went limp immediately, and I found myself having to apologize again. 'Never mind. I know how to get it up!' Still, my cameras rolled on silently in the corner of the room, recording every detail of our fucking. She lay beside me on the bed, and my cock was in her mouth. Whether it was her expertise, or just the startling beauty of her face and hair as she sucked me, I don't know, but I was soon hard again. I had the opportunity to look at her body. (Later I would have the video to study it at leisure). Her mother must have been just like this at eighteen, I thought. Her waist was just that bit slimmer. Her calves too. And her cunt still had that pretty covering of blonde curls. I was fucking her in the mouth now. And then I felt her finger slip into my anus! I was coming. I could not stop. She gagged as I spurted into her mouth, and then I saw my cum dripping over her eyelids and the bridge of her nose. She was not smiling. As I drifted off into a deep sleep, I recall thinking, with a slight pang of guilt, that I had come three times without giving her a single orgasm. I woke at dawn needing to urinate. There was no sign of her. In the bathroom, she had scrawled on the mirror with her lipstick. Big, bold letters. 'BASTARD! DON'T CALL ME! AND I TOOK MY TAXI FARE.' And a bit more, I thought. My empty wallet was on the glass shelf: there had been at least a hundred in it the evening before. I tried to clean the mirror with a tissue. It just smeared worse. Luckily, she had left me my credit cards, and the change from the taxi the night before was still in my trouser pocket. I left a tenner for the maid as an apology, and checked out, with the cameras. ....................................................................... Jason Lysenko was CEO of our North American affiliate, and an old friend of mine. We had that bonding that can only come between men who have faced danger together: we had been in Vietnam together. Anyway, those loyalties override crap like duty to pharmaceutical companies. The email was to my personal id, outside the corporate system. It warned me the main Board had decided to restructure, and the pyramid management structure I described earlier was to be flattened. At the suggestion of Reginald, I was to be the 'flattening'. He was going to summon me to a meeting on Friday and fire me. Jaylys told me Reginald had argued strongly that I should go, along with one of my managers and twelve representatives. Financially, I would be okay. I was asked to securely delete the email, which I did. Bastard! But I still had twenty-four hours. I decided there was no point in fighting. A Board resolution, well, that was that. But I'd have that fat, smug, little shit! I got out my videos. I must admit I was often diverted from the task at hand by the delightful and kinky films, but I soon had the stills I wanted. ........................................... 'Ah! Come in, Mungo. Sit down.' My chair was, of course, lower than his. He was drinking coffee from a porcelain cup on a silver tray. None offered to me. 'I'll come straight to the point, Mungo. I know that is what you would want. The plain truth is we have decided to terminate you.' I silently thanked my old comrade Jaylys for the warning. That would have been terrible if it had come out of the blue. As it was, I could enjoy his surprise at my lack of concern. 'I can't say, Reginald, that I'll miss working for you.' Silence from the fat carcass. 'But I shall miss humping your lovely wife. And I expect she'll miss it too, given your incompetence in that field. I see some disbelief in your eyes, Reginald. These may help.' I took the A4 glossy prints from their envelope and scattered them over his desk. He scrabbled amongst them. His color rose to crimson, and his neck swelled to fill his shirt collar. His brow sweated, and his little eyes narrowed, so he really did most resemble a pig. 'I'll have you for this!''I shouldn't think there's much more you can do to "have me", Piggy Reginald. That's what they call you, you know. And your wife finds that quite amusing, too. I see you don't, Piggy. No. You'll have to pay me my contract, and you and I know the Board has agreed that, despite your unhelpful arguments.' He rose from his desk. He would probably have hit me, were it not for the fact that he knew I was vastly better equipped and trained for that sort of thing. 'I was going to keep quiet about it, but I guess I'll have to finish the job! I'm going to miss humping your lovely daughter too.' I scattered another dozen or so photos across the desk. Again, he scrabbled among them. Tits, cocks, mouths, cunts... terrible stuff! 'Oh, look, Piggy. You've mixed them up. Never mind, the ones without faces on them, your daughter has slightly larger tits, though they're just as firm as Joy's. Oh yes, and she doesn't shave her cunt, while Joy does, of course. But you'd know that, wouldn't you? Or perhaps not, as you haven't been there for a few years, she tells me. Now, if you'll excuse me, Reginald, I have to clear my desk, in compliance with company rules.'	null	null	Authors/Joyce/The_Boss's_Wife.txt
79,548	Joyce Hamilton	The Comforter Comforted	You find a lot of women like Stella Davies in municipal parks. A marathon runner, Stella had been jogging and was now doing her hundred press-ups. Stella was a weight trainer, and her body, though slight, was like sprung steel. As she flexed her biceps and contracted her stomach muscles with each press, she delighted in the awareness of her body, its sinewy strength and vitality. Up, and another ten minutes jogging before her hundred pull-ups at the bandstand. On her final two hundred yard sprint, just before her place on the benches by the lake, a very pretty girl was sitting, weeping softly into her handkerchief. She was pretty, and for all her macho image, Stella was an old softie. She hesitated in her stride and was about to stop when, feeling all sweaty and messy, she decided to pass on by. Half an hour later, bathed and decent again, Stella lay on her couch. Her mind returned to the girl. Jesus, but she was a looker. Her hand stole down to her cunt and felt it. Yes, a real looker. She could manage a bit of that. Of course, she had to be careful, given her position, but the girl looked as if she was sixteen, or at least sixteenish. Sod it, she'd have a go. She went over to the window. Yes, the girl was still there. She dressed quickly and skipped down the stairs and out the front door. She sat beside the girl. "What's the matter? Can I help?" Only response, a flood of tears. Try another tack. "My name's Stella, what's yours?" "C-C-Cindy." More tears. "Boys are rotten." This would sometimes have been a most welcome comment to Stella, but she guessed it was not all 'boys', but just one specimen of the loathsome species who was targeted. "How old are you, Cindy?" "Fifteen." "Well, you've many years to forget the silly boy who was too stupid to appreciate you. You're very, very pretty, you know. Now use my handkerchief, yours is all wet." She put her arm around the girl's shoulder and gave her an encouraging squeeze. "Lean on my shoulder." The girl's shoulder-length, fine, brown hair drifted over Stella's neck, making her shiver with desire, and the girl's scent was strong in her nostrils. She could feel the firm young breast pressed up against her own more muscular torso, through the blouse and light sweater: the bosom heaved as the girl still sobbed. "Now, this won't do. Can't have you crying like this where any of your friends could see. Come back to my flat, and we'll have some tea and a chat. I teach at the University, just over there, by the river. Look. That's the window of my flat." The cunning reader will have guessed by now that Stella is a lesbian, and that she has decided to try to seduce this lovely fifteen-year-old girl. The reader has guessed right, and half an hour later, what do we find but the two of them looking over photo albums of Stella's sporting triumphs, and giggling over her stories about some quite famous athletes. Her flat was less cluttered than most university rooms, and her strong personality had made its mark on it. Sunlight streamed in through tall windows and lit up the spines of the multicolored books on two walls. The third had a mural of two women making love. One was athletic and closely resembling the owner, and the other a tender young girl, all dimples, blonde hair, and large, brown, bedroom eyes. They lingered over a photo of Stella with a friend, a close friend one assumes, as the girl was sitting on Stella's back, her legs round the woman's neck, seeming to grip tight while Stella ran along in some sort of sporting high-jinks. From the look in her eyes, she may well have been enjoying the pressure of Stella's neck on her mound. And from the glint in Stella's eyes, she was certainly enjoying holding the girl's plump, naked thighs. "You must be ever so strong," said Cindy. "I'm stronger than most men," boasted our lesbian. "Feel my muscles." She flexed her biceps, and Cindy felt them. She squeezed on the muscle and then passed her arm over the arm, and back to the bicep, which she felt again. "It's like a man's, but harder and not so lumpy." She felt a quickening pulse in her clit...this was getting a bit hard and lumpy, she thought. "It's hot in here. Lovely sunny room." She pulled her sweater off. Her blouse was thin, and Stella could not resist a swift embrace. Both girls were nervous...but this act took them a little further, building confidence in Stella that she would not get a refusal, and warming Cindy up rather more. "Would you like to see my body-builder act, Cindy?" Without risking waiting for an answer, she slipped her cotton frock over her head. Standing there in just a tiny, plain, bikini panty, she started to flex her muscles. Her pectoral muscles rippled: she had tiny breasts, hardly more than would suit a man into body-building, and her nipples were very small. She showed off her pectorals, making her breasts move over them. Now her back and shoulder muscles, her biceps again, one, two, in classic body-builder poses. Finally, she clenched her stomach muscles, making them stand out, hard and trim as any boxer's. She clenched and unclenched her trim bottom, and as she moved from pose to pose, her slim legs demonstrated firm, sinewy musculature. She stood stationary, in classic pose, while Cindy clapped with glee. "Come and feel them, all of them," suggested our friend, and the young girl, giggling, passed her palms over naked chest and back, and then over her bottom. "Feel this, too!" said Stella and took the girl in her arms, giving her a hug that crushed her breasts against the sinewy chest, pressing up against her belly. "Is that nice," she whispered. "Yes, Stella. I like that. It makes me feel all funny inside." On cue, Stella kissed her lips, long and passionate. The girl responded with her tongue in Stella's mouth and rubbing her thighs against Stella's. To the bed! (Stella found one in the sitting room useful when tutorials with her university girls became stimulating). To the bed, where Stella, like any teenage boy, had her hand inside Cindy's blouse, feeling her young breasts, full in a satin bra. One, two, three buttons, back clasp on the bra, and there the girl was, naked to the waist, and heart-stoppingly lovely. The redness of her weeping had gone, and her eyes shone with sexy excitement. Stella knew she was home with this one. Her long, silky, brown hair spilled over her breasts, and nipples peeped rose-pink through. Stella tenderly sucked at a nipple while fondling both tits. They were full and round but still with the wonderful firmness that you really only find naturally in well-developed teenage girls. The schoolgirl sighed, and squirmed, rubbing her legs together as the experienced seducer excited her tits. Now to the legs...and cunt! Stella, still kissing passionately, ran her hand swiftly up the bare leg to the crotch. Stopped momentarily by sensible cotton knickers, she rubbed the outside of the cunt, then a finger inside the leg elastic, and the feel of the swollen, wet, lusting cunt-lips. The girl's tongue fluttered in Stella's mouth and her lips bit harder, as Stella moved her finger up and down the moist crease, over the tiny, but erect clitoris. She pulled the knickers down by the waistband, and Cindy lifted her butt to help. This was the chance to remove the skirt as well. So they sat there, Cindy now naked, Stella in her tiny panties, kissing and playing with each other. Stella fingering Cindy's slit, while Cindy felt the hard body of her new lover. At the very moment she pushed her tongue deep into the girl's mouth, Stella put her forefinger into the plump little cunt. She was aware of the girl's vagina gripping it, inserted to the second knuckle. The cunt was tight, showing good muscle tone. Good, Stella liked her girls fit and firm! But she was no virgin. Stella moved the finger in and out and round and round, softly shagging the girl with it, and was rewarded by sighs and little purring noises of pleasure, and by more sustained gripping of her bottom and thighs. Stella knelt in front of the girl to kiss and suck her. The girl writhed and sighed with delight at the new sensation of cunnilingus. She trembled as Stella's tongue flicked infuriatingly at the clit, only then to be plunged into the hot, tight channel of her cunt. Stella's hands wandered at will over the belly, thighs and pert bottom of this teenage beauty, delighting in soft skin and firm flesh. Her fingers plucked at the fine, silky, almost blonde hair that was just starting to ornament the young girl's mound, her pink cunt-lips. When it came, the strength of Cindy's orgasm surprised Stella, but astounded Cindy herself. She clutched at Stella's head, pulling her blonde hair. She rolled, writhed, bucked, bounced, sighed, swore, moaned, yelped and made it quite clear she was having a big, big come! Her bottom bounced up and down with each growing spasm, and Stella had the joy of a young cunt ravishing her face, sliding up and down, cunt over mouth and tongue. "Oh! Stella, I've never had one like that before. I'll never forget that one!" She hugged the older woman and tenderly caressed the masculine chest and flat stomach.After a short time, complimenting each other on their bodies and sexuality, Stella felt again for the arse and quim. The girl responded with more little jerks of her hips. 'Do something for me too,' whispered Stella. 'Pull my panties off.' The girl was surprised to find our dyke had a completely shaven cunt. That may have made it easier for her to suck for the first time. (Stella had found that many young girls, her students, were encouraged by a hairless body.) No sooner had she got the woman naked than she was lying beside her learning how to suck cunt. She knew what she liked, and assumed Stella would like the same. She found she loved the feel and the taste, and as she buried her mouth and tongue further into the slit, she felt the hard muscles of the woman's arse. The buttocks were feminine in their curve, but masculine in the hard, almost knotted muscles beneath the skin. The young girl kneeled and prodded them, learning their contours. Then to her breasts, scarcely more than small fleshy lumps on the strong, smooth muscles. No man would be ashamed of this flat, firm chest! The girl was fascinated, contrasting her own fuller charms, and tweaked the nipples, fondling the small bumps and the larger muscles underlying them. Stella rolled on top of the brunette. Cindy felt her body becoming desperately excited again as she explored her new lover's body. Her breasts seemed to have swollen, the nipples hardened, and she ached for penetration. She was overjoyed when she felt Stella's tongue again probing her. She continued to lick the lovely naked cunt, learning from Stella's reactions which movements of tongue and mouth gave the most pleasure. Cindy grasped Stella's thighs and pulled her cunt down hard onto her face, licking frenetically, and stimulating with her nose as well as her mouth. She was rewarded by feeling her lover come, and the sudden increased liquidness of the juicy cunt. Afterwards Stella kissed her girl on the lips. 'Thank you, Cindy. That was lovely. Was it as good for you?' She knew it had been! 'Yes, I loved it, and it's made me all hot again.' She took the woman's hand and pressed it to her breast. 'Let me show you something that will help.' Reaching to the bedside cabinet, she took out a strap-on dildo. She knelt on the bed. 'This is Antoine! Help me put him on.' Cindy helped fasten the straps round both thighs and the dyke's waist. She giggled. 'It's shaped just like a cock...' 'And I use it just like a cock. But first we'll warm up using Antoine's little helper.' The pink dildo hummed when she turned the head. 'What?' 'You just wait. If you enjoyed my tongue, just wait till you feel this wonderful invention. It was made with women in mind.' So saying, she applied the buzzing dildo to the girl's already hot quim. Laying back, she closed her eyes and went off into a sexual reverie. On her back, Cindy's breasts did not loll at all but stood proud and round. Her belly flat and firm. Her belly button a delight. Stella profited from the moment of her dildo-induced orgasm to fuck her. As the girl came, and without removing the buzzing dildo, she leaned over the girl and tenderly kissed each nipple, and then her lips. She reached under and lifted the lithe, slim thighs, placing them on her shoulders. In this classic position, she placed the knob of her strap-on to the cunt-lips, still hot from the mechanical dildo, and using one hand to help, eased it in. Immediately the girl started to move again under her, to such an extent that it was enough for Stella to let her do all the work and concentrate on her own enjoyment of the girl's tits. Cindy, too, was enjoying the body of the woman riding her. Whilst she had gone off into a solitary reverie when Stella dildoed her cunt with the vibrator, now she was aware of every movement the woman made, and of the worshipping of her body by hands and lips. Her small, fine hands roamed over the hard body of the bull-dyke, especially arse-cheeks and hard tits. Soon the friction in her vagina, and the pressure on her clit worked, and her pleasure rose, rose further, and as she thrust upwards to meet the downwards thrust, she began to come. This was even bigger, longer, and more intense. At the end, she sprawled back, enjoying the weight of her lover collapsed on her breast. 'Now can I try it on you, Stella?' 'I'd love that, Cindy. Do me from behind, kneeling down.' The young girl fucked with care and finesse. She knew the importance of keeping up the rhythm, because she knew what made her come herself. She also, as she shagged the naked cunt, knew enough to reach underneath and titillate the clitoris with one hand. With the other, she felt nipples, and caressed the flattish, muscular chest. Her rounded, soft thighs thrust against the hard little buttocks. Stella felt a girl's breasts press firm against her back as the girl hugged her, still shagging. 'Don't stop, darling. Faster now...I'm coming.' The young girl put her every effort into increasing the pace, the force, and her lover's pleasure. Stella came. They collapsed and dozed. 'Goodness, it's five thirty already. I've got to be off,' said Cindy. 'Just time for a quick drink to celebrate while you get dressed.' Naked, the woman helped her girl dress and then, enjoying the feel of the girl's clothes against her own still-naked body, kissed her on the lips. 'Cindy, you're a lovely girl. Thanks for a lovely afternoon.' 'I should thank you, Stella. I was very down when we met, and now I don't care about him. I don't need boys any more, I know that. It was much better with you. I think I love you.' She hugged her again. 'We girls are made to love a lot of people. It's only the men who want us to love one person... one man. I know you love me. And I love you. But I love a lot of girls. And so will you.' They were both silent while Cindy absorbed this common-sense. 'What time does your Mum allow you out to?' 'About 11:30. Unless I stay overnight with a girlfriend...' 'Friday night, let's go clubbing. I love dancing, and would like to take you to a club I go to. It's all women, and you'll meet some lovely people, all friends of mine. Then perhaps you can stay overnight with this girlfriend. Very respectable. University! How about it?' 'It's a date. I can't wait.'	null	null	Authors/Joyce/A_Comforter-Comforted.txt
79,552	Joyce, Hamilton	Cold War Party Time	Yana stood in front of the long mirror and admired her naked body, turning sideways to look at her breasts in profile. She tweaked the pink nipples and made them stand, enjoying the little frisson in her clitoris as if an invisible thread linked her breasts to her pussy. They were small, not as large as her mother's, but okay for fourteen. She giggled, correcting herself - fifteen today! She was better developed than any of the other girls in her class at the huge old school. She stroked them, drawing her fingers up the firm cones to those rubbery nipples: rounded and pert, she thought, and not a trace of sag beneath them. She turned to face the mirror and gave her head a shake: her shoulder-length blonde hair shone silky, framing her classic beauty face, gold-tanned like her body, full lips, blue eyes. She parted her legs just a bit and combed fingers through the triangle of fine, blonde pubic fleece. She was content with her body, flat belly and a nice rounded mons, pussy lips still hairless, and closed: plump little lips, full like her others. She turned side-on again: long, tanned legs, slender still at fifteen, but a still almost boyish bum. Never mind: it was firm and smooth, and her hips would fill out as she grew older. She cupped her pussy with her right hand and slipped a finger between the lips. Wet already: looking at herself in the mirror always made her horny. Time for bed. She slipped into the long, so fine as to be near-transparent nightdress, pulled the duvet over herself and switched off the light. Tonight it would be Yvgeny, the big, blonde, handsome bodyguard. She had often seen him bare-chested doing press-ups and squats in the grounds, jogging for hours. Forbidden fruit of course, but a girl could fantasize. She giggled, wondering whether his cock was on the same heroic scale as his thighs and biceps. Her left hand found her clitoris, the index finger of her right sliding up into her vagina. Five minutes and she had a nice little climax, falling asleep almost immediately.The instruction they were to behave as bandits, and that included rape, began to look appetizing to the squaddies! She was trying to shield her pussy with one hand, her breasts with the other arm, but with little success. "Don't make this difficult for us, Ivan. We're professionals and believe in minimum violence. Now, the combination of the safe, please." "Damn you. No!" "Two hands, Ivan. That's eight fingers and two thumbs. Three knuckles per finger, two for the thumbs. That's twenty-eight pieces I can cut off you, before we get to more interesting parts. How many fingers would you be willing to lose before you tell me? Think about it. If you don't tell me when I've counted to ten, I'll gag you and start cutting. Up to you, Ivan Ivanovitch. "One, two, three, four, five..." "Tell him, Ivan. It's not worth it..." "Tell them, Daddy. They mean it, I think..." "Six, seven..." "It's 14296805." He nodded at the guy now standing by the safe. "Try it, 14296805." "It's opened, mate, no booby trap." "Right. Handcuff the two. And we'll all go to the living room downstairs while matey here empties the safe, and tips four guards down the stairs." Ivan watched, helpless in a mixture of despair and anger, as his wife, his lovely wife, was released from her handcuffs and pushed to the floor, on that white fur rug they had so often used for lovemaking. One held her down while the other pulled her legs apart. Ivan's cock twitched as his eyes took in that familiar beauty, those breasts standing so firm despite her laying on her back, the nipples and aureoles pink still despite her all-over golden tan. Her pussy was as immaculate as ever, hairless, mound swelling at the base of her near-flat belly, lips closed: so elegant and tidy until she was aroused! A second burly villain unbuckled his belt and let his thin track suit trousers fall to his ankles: naked beneath, his buttocks looked broad and muscular, a sparse crop of black hairs even on the burly cheeks. He spat on his hand and added that to the pre-cum that was spilling down the shaft of a large, hard penis. Ivan watched, frustration mixed now with despair, as the man roughly pulled her legs wide apart and lay full on top: her yelp signaled he had started to rape her, penetrated his wife's vagina with that huge cock. His wife's vagina. "Please, no..." But that was not Marta: that was his daughter pleading. He tore his eyes away from the violation of his wife and saw his daughter Yana squashed between two more muscular bandits, one fondling her breasts, the other fingering her genitalia. He turned his head away, back to his wife's martyrdom. The guy's muscular buttocks were clenching and unclenching as he drove his penis in. He seemed to have his arms around her, under her body, and she was laying with her arms limp alongside her, noiseless after that first stifled scream that announced Ivan's dishonor, at least in the eyes of his own peculiar culture. He tried to pull forward, but his bound wrists had been looped over a heavy carved chair and he could not move, and there was nothing he could do about the latest insult to his masculinity... he had to watch as his wife closed her arms around the back of the man raping her. He had to watch as her little, soft hands clutched and caressed the moving muscles of his broad back. He closed his eyes to shut the vision out, but a sort of gasp from his daughter made him open them. Her breasts were truly lovely, small yes but conical and plump. Those fingers, both hands, were stroking them from the base to the tips, drawing them upward, and the pink nipples were now longer and rubbery. Erect! By God! His daughter's teenage nipples were erect: Shit! She was aroused. He had not seen her naked since her puberty and he stared. The other guy, at the moment of a second gasp, parted the girl's cunt-lips, and her father could see the pink flesh within, her little clitoris, the darker part announcing the entrance to her vagina... her virgin vagina he hoped with all his heart. It was so pretty, and pretty too that faint triangle of blonde hair, so fine still at fifteen that it was almost invisible. It was there, though, and evidence of her sexual maturity. Ashamed of himself, he knew his cock was stiffening. And it was the sight of his wife in the throes of eager sex with that anonymous, masked man. There was no doubt now his wife was participating, if not willingly, at least eagerly. The sight too of his daughter aroused to such an extent that juices were now running down from her open cleft to make her anus glisten. She had never been an object of sexual desire to her daddy, not till this moment. He knew she was lovely, both her blonde, blue-eyed face and hair, and her slender, curvaceous body, but not till he saw her naked breasts, her aroused pussy, not till now had she made him stiff. Marta had lost herself in the pleasure of a strong man who, unlike her husband, did not just stick it in and cum. Her climax was building, up and up, and she clawed at his back, pulling him harder against her, crushing her breasts under his magnificent weight. "Moy Bog! Moy Bog. Aaaaaaaaaah." Harvey, fucking her, knew she was cumming. He could feel the contractions in her vagina trying to milk his sperm from him. But he held out, matching each spasm that racked through her with a special thrust deep inside, his knob crashing into her cervix. He also knew her husband was watching and that gave him a special frisson. Now he would shag her hard and build her to a higher climax, hear her scream her ecstasy... See what Ivan makes of that, laying there helpless, but his prick stiff. The daughter, Yana, heard her mother and she too knew her mother had given in to the forbidden pleasure, and that removed the last obstacle in the way of the girl's climax. Gone all feelings of shame or guilt: this was pleasure, and those fingers pulling at her nipples, those fingers pulling at her clitty, that probing finger in her vagina. The guys were big, muscular, so masculine..."Yes! Yeeeeesssssss!" The man holding the Kalashnikov, pointing it always at Daddy, took a knife from his belt and cut the plastic ties holding her wrists, and at that moment the man who had been pleasuring her pussy, placed his lips on her open cleft and started to lick and nibble. She had never before known anything like it. It was as if pleasure was building from the very top of her orgasm, his lips and tongue, and those other hands still caressing her tits, everything was bringing her to an earth-shaking climax. She screamed her pleasure, Russian and English obscenities mixed. Ivan was glad his wrists were tied... he knew that the slightest touch on his penis would have released a torrent of cum and completed his humiliation, his guilt and shame. At that moment he could have fucked his daughter. His own little girl! Rough hands unhooked him from the carved oak chair and propelled him towards his daughter as she sprawled on the sofa open-legged and laying back propped against the cushions, her cunt just at the edge of the sofa seat. He was made to kneel with his hard, pre-cum weeping cock resting in her open cleft, placed he guessed exactly over her vagina entrance. "Prosti Yana. Prosti. I'm so sorry..." But at that moment he wanted her so much that it was scarcely necessary for a burly hand to do more than just rub the knob against her vagina. Her daddy did the rest, forcing his cock up into her where nothing larger than the candle she kept in her bedside drawer had ever penetrated. His first thought was how tight and how hot this pussy was, and as his shaft slid in, gripped by the velvet muscles of a fit teenage girl, it touched the very end, her fertile young cervix. The act was shameful he knew! Taking his daughter's virginity on her fifteenth birthday, her birthday present still around her neck. But shameful too was that he came after just two thrusts, filling her cunt with hot cum, yes, but leaving her longing for a third orgasm. Which she would soon get as her daddy was pulled back and tipped over sideways, his place taken by The Captain. Laying on the floor, scarce three feet from the white reindeer skin rug where his wife was enjoying (yes, he thought, that's the right word), enjoying being fucked senseless by what seemed to be a master of the art, Ivan could see, and almost feel what must have been her second orgasm, and this time he could certainly hear it as she shouted a long, almost wailing "Oooooooooooh" and then some Russian shouts, and finally a series of grunts, each he just knew marking a spasm in such a climax as she had never ever enjoyed with him. His cock now limp and sticky from his premature ejaculation in his daughter's cunt, he felt un-manned, ashamed that he fucked... willingly at last... an innocent girl, his daughter... his little girl. Ashamed moreover that he had not even been man enough to fuck her properly and as a punishment now had to listen to her joy with a stranger. A burglar from a gang of bandits, fuck it! His wife's fingers were again clawing at her "rapist's" back, and he could see they had torn the thin black fabric and were drawing blood, but the guy did not care. He shagged her on and on, harder and faster each time she climaxed, slower and powerfully between as he built her up again. Finally, one climax seemed to run into another and he closed her mouth with his, stifling her cries as he finally allowed himself to cum, coinciding with yet another of her climaxes. God knows how much cum he pumped into her after a build-up like that, Ivan thought. And then the terrible thought struck him: Yana had no birth control protection. Marta had wanted her to be given an implant, but he had vetoed it...Too young, too innocent, daddy's little girl. Well, if daddy's little girl was in a fertile part of her cycle, her cervix and womb would be ready, given the number of climaxes he had already heard. Fuck! He might even be the father of any baby... With difficulty, he rolled over and saw it was not only his wife who was enjoying herself... Legs still splayed, Yana now had them lifted and held at the ankles by the guy fucking her, and while his great pile-driver thumped in and out, she was diddling her clitoris, pulling at it and rubbing it while he crashed his pubic bone into hers. Another climax. More obscenities, more grunts... just like her mother. Was it genetic, or did all women do it when really fucked? He realized he did not know, as none of the many women he had fucked had ever climaxed like these two, over and over again. Certainly, his wife never had. He was close to weeping in shame, guilt, and above all, desperate frustration. He should at least have enjoyed fucking his daughter: probably, he would go to hell for just two little pushes and a cum... The door opened, and the sixth guy came in. The Captain's control was clear as he saw the man, and immediately allowed himself to cum. His teenage lover came too, feeling his cock expand and knowing she was being filled with hot sperm... as nature intended. "A word in your shell-like... Mate!" The Captain shoved his half-hard cock back into his track suit bottoms, watched the only other guy still with a dry dick take up his position between the teenage girl's legs, and insert his cock, just as she closed her legs around his bum. "Yeah. Outside, I think!" "Hundred percent, sir... Mate... I've downloaded his drive... mostly encrypted, of course. But... and here's the great news... as well as lots of jewels, some gold coins, and wads of dollars and UK fifties in the safe, there was a folder with four sheets of typing paper. It must be the keys and passwords. There's over eighty passwords, each tagged to a code-name... Thunderer, Blue Boy, Alexander, and so on. My guess is they are agents. Eighty for god's sake. But the holy grail is probably the next twenty or so: they are tagged to what are clearly banking account numbers. My guess is if we are quick, we can clear him and his network out... all his agents and all his cash. Have to be quick, though, as he'll probably change all the account keys. On the other hand, I should think keeping a hard copy of encryption keys is probably a shooting offence with his masters. "Shooting if he's lucky! But he may just run for it and try to sell info to us in return for asylum. Well, we gave him his daughter's virginity, though he made a hash of that. Great work, Alex! Now you go in and act the bandit. Tell a couple who have got wet dicks already to go and fill a few bags with portable antiques and so on, and then wet your dick. Knowing you, Ivan is probably going to have his education advanced. Me. I've a call to make, gotta add some finance experts to the team waiting for us at Base. Can't get a signal here, of course, but will be ok by the van, so I'll bring that here as well. "Enjoy yourself, El Bandido!" Standing at the door, Alexei took in the scene worthy of a porn movie. Two beautiful women moaning and grunting as black-suited men groped and fucked them. The teenage girl climaxed as he watched, and then the woman. The men fucked on, and their waiting, hard-cocked colleagues amused themselves stroking firm tits and cute buttocks. On the floor, limp-cocked and woebegone, the father looked up at his daughter enjoying yet another orgasm. Alexei licked his lips. Just the type he enjoyed most. Big-built, muscular, and submissive... had to be submissive with his hands tied behind him! Roughly, he turned the guy on his belly and heaved him into a kneeling position. He spat on his hand, wet his dick, and shuffled into place behind that broad, hairy bum. Parting the cheeks, a probably virgin anus. More spit wiped across it, knob placed, and a shove. The man's scream broke through his daughter and his wife's dream-like ecstasy, and they saw the ultimate humiliation of the father and husband. He pleaded, almost sobbing, but the bandit was ruthless, ramming his cock home, pulling it out, pile-driving it again, each thrust making a sharp smacking noise as thighs crashed into buttocks, each insertion causing a scream of pain. The women found the sight of men copulating gave an added impetus to their own enjoyment, and they entered even more enthusiastically into their fucking. Gradually, the shouts and pleas died away, and Alexei could feel the anus loosening. He felt underneath... a hard cock. The Captain convinced his Colonel that with a handful of finance men and a beefed-up software team, there was an opportunity to give the opposition a real hit. So, he was a happy man when he parked the van outside the mansion's front steps. The bags of loot were waiting by the door, and he loaded them into the van along with the internet suppressor kit and bolt cutters. In the room, the guys had finished fucking, and the woman and girl were laying side by side on the sofa. Standing at the door, the Captain smiled: it was obvious their experience tonight had liberated something in the mother and daughter. Laying side-by-side but head to tail, a jumble of arms and legs, hair mussed and sticky, cunts dripping juices, they had clearly been indulging in lesbian love, and he betted it was their first together. But not their last, he supposed. The woman spotted him at the door and untangled herself. The two of them sat now on the sofa, looking flushed and perhaps slightly embarrassed, but watching Alexei shag their father with a certain fixed expression of interest. The woman's arm crept round her daughter's back, and her hand fondled that matchless teenage breast. Like the two women, the Captain watched the two men laying on the fur rug, Ivan on his back with his legs up over Alexei's shoulders: from the look of Ivan's hard cock waving about between the two muscular bodies, he was enjoying this "rape". Cock in anus was making a sort of slurping noise with each thrust, and Ivan was panting and moaning softly... but not in anguish. Oh no! And so were the two females enjoying, arms round each other, now kissing again. Then Ivan came, his cock untouched by himself, hands tied behind him still. White streamers of cum splattered over his chest and belly. The women giggled: both understood something about the head of household now! That was the moment for Alexei to cum as well, again pumping his cum into Ivan's no-longer virgin arse with three great spurts. Ivan would never be the same: this was the real thing, better to submit to being fucked by a muscular male, brought to a mind-shattering cummy conclusion, better by far than a brief and unsatisfactory climax in a female cunt. Time for action! The Captain walked over to the sofa and calmly shot both women in their faces with his gas-gun, and then over to Ivan, the same. "Time to go, guys. Tie these two up. Very securely. I'm injecting Ivan so he's out cold for eight hours. Harvey and Jake, go and check the four guards are still secure and give them another dose of gas. We'll leave Ivan so he can free them when he comes round this afternoon." When Ivan did at last come to, his first panic thought was to the folder of encryption keys. He staggered to the safe: empty of currency and jewels, of course, but, thank god, the folder was still there with the incriminating sheets still inside. They expected him to, but how could he possibly remember all those passwords? His laptop: his data files! He rushed naked to his office and thanked god again. The robbers had left it, had taken his Roman bronze of Aphrodite, of course, but left the laptop with its data files. By now, back at the Base, the two teams, financial and software, were enjoying a celebratory drink before knocking off for the rest of the day. The process of emptying the bank accounts was complete, transferring the contents through a chain of different currencies and internet accounts, as real bandits would, to their final home in Government Treasury holdings. All over the country, in offices, factories, research establishments, universities, military camps, startled men and women were being arrested by snatch teams and taken off for interrogation. Eighty-four of them! Ivan untied his family and the guards, and as husband, wife, and daughter sat round the kitchen table shell-shocked, he told them what had happened could not be covered up, but that it was the guards who would be blamed by their masters back home, not Ivan himself. The proverbial hit the fan when news reached his masters first of the missing millions, then of the complete collapse of their intelligence network. Wife and daughter drove to the city that same day in one of his Mercedes and applied for asylum. It was granted after a lengthy debriefing by Intelligence. The emeralds the Captain had "forgotten to take," a few odds and ends the raiders had missed, and the Mercedes produced enough to set themselves up as high-class whores, and they are still thriving, celebrities even, enjoying the opportunity to choose their partners and profit from what amuses them most. Ivan was recalled, never to be heard of again. The Captain is now a lieutenant Colonel, and Harvey a sergeant: the other raiders are still privates or corporals and often recall the night when they were licensed, ordered even to rape.	null	null	Authors/Joyce/Cold War Party Time.txt
79,616	Dead_one	Pressure	You look over the contents of the box one more time. You pull out the instructions. Item 1: drink 5 glasses of water. You have the first two as you read the sheet. You go into the bathroom and take a shower and shave. You have another two glasses after you get out. Item 2: put on the diaper and bra. You put on the diaper and bra provided in the box. Item 3: put on plastic pants. You put them on, and your mind drifts to what I might be planning. You wonder what I will do when I get home. Finally, you have the last glass of water. Item 4: put on and lock the diaper harness. This is it. After this, you know the diaper cannot come off without the key. You slowly put on the harness and lock it in place. Item 5: put on the dress. As you look at your dress, you notice something different about it. You cannot figure out what he did, but something is different. No time to think about it now, you think, as you slip it on. Item 6: put on the heels and handcuffs and lock the handcuffs to the bed. You take the heels out of the box and notice that they are 4 or 5 inches and they have a buckle on them so they cannot fall off. You put them on and close the buckle. You cuff one pair of handcuffs to the center of the other and attach the free cuff to the bed. You lie down on the bed on your back and lock your hands in the cuffs. Again, you wonder what he has planned for you when he gets home. You lie there for what seems like hours, dreaming about all the things he could do... Wait, what was that? Keys? Someone is at the door. Is it him? Is he home? He walks in to the room, plays with your nipples a little, then unlocks you from the bed. He takes out a purse and slides it between your hands. You feel something else on your wrist, and it is getting tighter. It looks like a gold bracelet. There is one on both wrists, attaching you to the purse. Then he starts fiddling with the belt on the dress, and you finally see what he changed. He looped the belt through the harness, through a loop in the purse, and closed the belt behind your back. Now your hands were tied a full 6 inches from your body, and you cannot move them. He then says, "Come on," and you go with him. He puts you in his car and drives to the movies, where you go and watch a nice 3-hour movie. Then he takes you back to his place. You sit on his lap, and he feeds you a bottle of juice and spoons some liquefied food into your mouth. He disconnects your hands from the purse and removes the belt and bra. He takes you into the bedroom and recuffs you to the bed. He caresses your body and gives you a kiss. "Sweet dreams, my little baby," he says. You lay in the bed, and the pressure is building up inside of you. You ask where the key is, and he takes a bucket out of the freezer and tells you, "The key is frozen in the middle. You have to wait until it thaws!" Suddenly, you feel the warm liquid flowing into your diaper, and then you know it is going to be a long wait. "Oh well..." You think, and you try to get cozy in your wet diaper.	null	null	Authors/dead_one/pressure.txt
79,621	Dead One	Kidnapped!!!	You arrive at your friend's house. The trip there was uneventful, the usual traffic when traveling. As soon as the door is closed, his hands reach out. Your bags drop to the floor, and your hands are pulled behind your back and cuffed. You open your mouth to complain, but a ball gag is forced into your mouth, and you hear a lock click, indicating it is locked in place. All of a sudden, you feel pain, and you see a cane pass by your eyes. It is the last thing you see. A blindfold is put over your eyes, and he says, "You will obey me and not fight back, or you will be punished. You know how my cane feels. Obey, or you will feel more." "Stand up!" He unbuttons and removes your pants and underwear, then removes your shirt and bra, leaving them hanging from the chain on the cuffs. You soon feel leather cuffs going around your wrists and hear the locking sound again, and soon your wrists are being pulled closer together, and then the handcuffs are removed. Here you are at a friend's house, naked, hands bound, gagged, and blindfolded. A collar is locked on your neck, and you are forced down on your knees. You feel a tug at the collar, and you begin to crawl in that direction. The tugging leads you to stand up, and you feel a chair pressed against the back of your knees...you sit. Soon, you feel your collar being attached to the chair, and your legs being spread apart and tied in place. You soon realize you are unable to get up, even if you wanted to. Then you hear, "I am returning your clothes to your car. You won't be needing them," and he leaves. You are alone for what seems like hours. Wait, someone's at the door. You make as much noise as you can to get help, but the next thing you notice is the cane coming down on your nipple. The explosion of pain focuses your drifting mind and, at the same time, feels somewhat good. "You were warned. You are mine to do as I wish, and because you tried to get away, you have earned 5 more." Your breasts feel on fire after the first one, and after the last, you decide to obey him until you can get free and get away.	null	null	Authors/dead_one/Kidnapped.txt
80,112	Jim Hale	Cassie's Secret	You all probably think I am a horrible person, well, I am not. I am very sweet, I have been told so many times. Know what? Many of you reading this would be with me if you could, you would take the chance that I would be better to you! Men are basically stupid! My favorite song came out a long time ago entitled, "When a Man Loves a Woman". Few people knew anything about female domination then. The common word, "Femdom" had not been coined. Edward made a lot of promises, even more than Charlie has made. Edward had no plans to live up to the things he told me. I made it very clear to Edward. He knew what I expected of him. Yet all he thought of were his own needs and wants. He tried to fuck me, yes, after all of his promises about how he would use his tongue for my pleasure. He caught me pretty intoxicated, no, drunk. He tied me up, ME. I had explained to him how I was too small. I had told him that I had tried when I was in high school. I tried when I was in college. Both times I was hurt and the act was not consummated. I even went to an OB/GYN. She told me I could be made bigger, you know, operated on. "Like I am going to do that," I told her. "For what, just so a man could stick his penis in me! Unless a man wants to use his fingers and tongue, he can go straight to hell!" I left there and did not go back. I suspected that before I went to her. She just confirmed it. Now I could tell men, and tell them it was OB/GYN confirmed. To some, well most, that made little difference. That is why I am a black belt. I have kicked some ass. A good solid kick in the balls and a man gives you no more trouble. Even a couple guys who thought they were macho left me alone after a swift kick. They wouldn't tell anyone. Would you tell around that a little girl like me kicked your ass? A few days later I met Ashley. She was kind, considerate, really sweet. As we became better friends, she was gentle. She assured me many, many times that I never needed a man for anything, no woman did. Sex that is. She needed one for a slave, for sport, etc. Not sex! So now you know why Ashley and I were so close. I had never thought of myself as gay, I liked mine and Ashley's play. It filled a void. Ok, I even got turned on by Ashley. She was highly skilled. I think she really loves me. I really loved her lovemaking, no pain. I am now having doubts, serious doubts about our lovemaking. Charlie is good. So very good, and totally dedicated to me, the way a man should be dedicated to a woman. If he is not, he just does not love her enough and is fit only for a slave ala "Shades of Edward". I cannot believe Charlie, I have been so wrong about him. I have treated him really mean because I thought he was like all the other creeps I have known. He is not. He has allowed me to do really nasty stuff to him while giving him nothing but more deprivation and yeah, depraved treatment. I feel like a, not very nice person, yet to Charlie I am a Goddess. I do not think I will ever give Charlie, "The Goddess Test". I know he would take it, I think he would pass it, but I do not want to do that to him, I am not even sure I could. I went through a lot of planning meeting Charlie, getting the job, all for a purpose that I cannot now do. I do not want to do it. I know I love Charlie. I never thought I could love a man. I certainly did not fathom falling in love with Charlie. All the jerks, and only one real man. Charlie knows how a woman should be treated. I do not believe he was taught, it must come natural to him. He has done so many sweet things to show how loving and considerate he is of me. He did not throw a fuss when I had him sleeping all night with his face in my pussy and even in my ass. Lucky for him I did not need to fart, because if I had needed to I would have and giggled at him when he got choked. That is one thing I will not have to feel badly for. When he asked if I wanted him to be my pee toilet, he would have been. I could have fed him every drop of my morning pee and Charlie would have swallowed it all without a complaint. Hey, he even knelt in front of me and stuck out his tongue into the stream of piss! He licked me afterwards and I had not even had a bath. I know I stunk! Charlie did not grimace. I know Charlie wants to fuck me something terrible. I do not know if I can take all of Charlie. He is not as big as Edward. I know he would be gentle and a whole lot more understanding. I really believe Charlie would marry me in a heartbeat, knowing that his life would forever be like the last couple days. He, like, totally worships me. I have never been worshiped like that. I have always thought I deserved to be worshiped. I know no one as pretty as me. I know no one as sexy as me. My figure and complexion are second to none for those who like dark-complexioned women with large B-cups and an ass just a little larger than their top measurement. My ass has a truly beautiful heart shape, my tits have a lift to them that gives them the curve up and out look. I love showing off my bod. I love sitting in a crowded room dressed in a short skirt crossing, uncrossing, and occasionally spreading my legs just a little so the men and some women can see my panties. I never believed there was anything wrong with that. They only see my panties and it gives them such a thrill. I have been doing that since junior high. Even my male teachers would look at my panties while pretending not to. I have sent them behind their desk to hide their bulges many, many times. It always gave me a sense of power. I like to bend over and accidentally show my butt-clad panties. Standing up and bending over a man's desk in a low-cut blouse with no bra is cool too. I have actually seen some men drool! I know I am a meanie. I know I like to torture men sometimes. It just comes on me. Maybe there is something wrong with me. Maybe I can not ever be a wife to Charlie all of the time in the natural sense. Maybe there will always be times when I am horny that I will want, no Need, to humiliate someone, yes, even Charlie. Maybe Charlie will have to accept that and lick me after I pee, and maybe once in a while just to prove he loves me, drink all of my pee. I know I will always want him to eat me through multi-orgasms, he is so good at that. I know there will always be times when I want his nose, his face, and his tongue in my asshole. When his tongue made the trip the length of my ass crack then entered my asshole, I had an orgasm. There is something about having a man's tongue in my ass that turns me on. Maybe it is the sense of power. Edward was a huge power trip, the ultimate in power trips. I was going to do the same thing to Charlie, but I know now that I cannot. I know I will need to do that again. I would like to see if I can prolong a man's life for say five years or more while using him as my toilet slave. The thing is, Charlie would willingly be my full and complete toilet slave, I think. Such power I have over a man. Many women could do things to a man if they knew it, and wanted to. It is difficult for me to accept that any, "Real woman", would not want to exert her power over a man and put him to his limit and beyond. Back to Edward. He had my wrist in the same leather straps that he was supposed to be in. He had my legs spread and fastened down. The way we played in the beginning but he was the fastenee and I was the fastener in our games. Oh, I hate him! Anyway, he was naked on top of me, trying to assure me this was for my own good. He tried as long as his dick could stand it. He hurt me, a whole lot. I cried, really cried, no man ever has the right to make me cry like that. I even begged and begged that asshole to turn me loose. All during my pain, my cries, my begging he kept "Cooing" that it would be alright. Once he was in, I would love it. He never got in, I hated it. I promised myself, never again, and he would pay. He paid. End of story! Charlie was asleep. That is good because thinking of the past like this has me upset, hey it has me mad! I must stop those thoughts. Charlie has been nothing but sweet to me, really sweet. When I was so quiet I do not know if he knew that I was overcome with emotion. I was. Never have I been treated like the Goddess I am by a man, that did not try his best to screw me. Almost always immediately. I suppose since I am beautiful, have a tremendous figure, men think of me as a, "Fuck toy". Do you think that asshole thought of me as a, "Fuck toy", when he was in the septic tank? Since I was about fifteen, yeah fifteen, guys have bumped into me, put their hands on my ass in check-out lines, I have even been pinched in crowds! We are not talking about accidents! Is it any wonder I was, maybe am, a man hater! Makes you wonder how many really good-looking ladies are lesbian because of sexual desires, or because of this shit! Oh, I have to calm down. I have some nerve pills in my purse, I think I should take one. I do not want to be like this when Charlie awakens. Look, I am thinking considerate things of him, just like when I could have pissed in his mouth and did not. Am I getting too soft?Cassie got up, took her nerve pill. Charlie turned over without waking. Cassie laid back down on the bed facing Charlie's back. Hmm, not a bad ass, Cassie thought. She cuddled up to him, put her arm over his side, and went to sleep. Charlie awoke first. He felt two pointed breasts in his back. Few things will make a man turn over quicker than the feel of firm, upturned breasts in the back. Charlie's turning did not awaken Cassie. Charlie looked at her and thought again how he was the luckiest guy in the world. The longer he looked at her sleeping form, the more beautiful she appeared. Charlie's gaze took her all in, from her head, to her breasts, a quick downward look at her pubic mound and back up to her breasts. Charlie then moved his eyes slowly down her face to toes and back again. She is a Goddess, I do not know what her "Goddess Test" is, nor does it really matter. I will do anything to prove to Cassie I think she is a Goddess. Any man in his right mind would. Hell, I would be her complete, everything-swallowed toilet if that is her test. Anyway, waste from such a beauty could never be too bad. I would just concentrate on the knowledge that her food had been chewed by those beautiful teeth and mixed with the saliva in that gorgeous mouth. I realize that human shit is mainly bacteria and dead cells. It is not much of what she eats. Her digestive system takes care of that. Her waste is just that, waste. Who cares. She is a Goddess, and she is my Goddess. I vow to always put her needs, wants, desires ahead of my own, no matter what they are. Such is the way it should be between a man and his Goddess. I never did and never will deserve her. But I will strive to lavish her with so much attention that she will learn to love me. I know she has secrets, I do not care what they are. The past does not matter, only now and my future with Cassie. Hell, I do not even care if she killed someone. What a silly thought! I know that she and Edward flew a light aircraft into a small storm. They wrecked in the ocean. She parachuted out and thought Edward did. His body was never found. Insurance could not have been a factor. There was only a $100,000 policy on his life. The insurance company paid the claim quickly, so Cassie told him shortly after she went to work for him. She is not just beautiful, Charlie thought, she is intelligent - the best I ever had. In no time, she was doing all of my business books, records, and transactions. Cassie handled about everything in the office. I do not mind selling the business. I have worked long hours for a long time. She is right, it is best to retire while I am still young enough to enjoy many good quality years with my Goddess. Cassie stirred, "Oh hi Charlie, sweet dreams?" She asked in her cooing sexy voice. She raised up and kissed me on the lips. The taste of her kiss was the sweetest thing I ever tasted. I have heard of candy kisses. Well, any kiss, anywhere on Cassie is a "candy kiss". She climbed on top of me. Her beautiful breasts about to poke a hole in my chest. I swear I could feel her nipples growing against my skin. Cassie is so sexy, I thought. It has to be just a matter of time. She started kissing me passionately, making little sounds with her kisses. I returned her kisses with pleasure, but I knew instantly she knew far more about the art of kissing than I ever hoped to. I always heard it was not how you kissed, but who you kissed. I hoped the saying was correct for Cassie, it certainly was for me. It seemed like a natural progression as my mouth went from her lips to her neck, throat and to her breasts. The nipples were getting harder all the time. I think Cassie must stay aroused. I was really enjoying kissing her beautiful body. We turned over with me on top. I enjoyed running the tip of my tongue in and around her belly button. Then I felt her hands on my head pushing down. Of course, I knew where she wanted my mouth to go. I was headed that way anyway. She just sped it up a little. I lingered at her bush just long enough to kiss it and inhale. I liked the way her pubic hair tickled my nose. I could already feel the heat from her pussy. She was lifting her ass and pushing on my head. "Charlie, I need your talented tongue already. Stop playing and fuck me." I put my mouth over her lips. She was wet. She held my head tightly. I licked her slit all that I could with limited movement. Her nails went to my neck. I pushed back just enough to lick more of her. "Charlie, you are playing again." She giggled while pulling more on my neck. I could feel the pain of her nails. She started making little circle movements with her ass. My head was held tightly by her hands and those sharp nails. I was licking her clitoris, moving my tongue around it. I felt her thighs tighten on my face. When she did this, I had a feeling that one day I would die here. But what a way to go. She squeezed really hard. "Fuck me, Charlie, Fuck me." She released pressure, and I took a deep breath and started tongue-fucking her the way she liked so much. My tongue was indeed a dick to her. I looked up at her face, her eyes were closed, her mouth partially open just enough to see her teeth. Her lower lip pushed out, with that "Cassie in exotic sexual mode" look. I thrust in and out with my tongue as far as I could reach. I strived to keep my tongue movement in rhythm to her gyrations and ass lifts. It was not easy, she was also hurting me. I was coming to accept when Cassie made violent love, I felt pain. I do not know if this pain was more or less than the first time on this bed. I was using all of my concentration power to move my tongue in, out, and around in an attempt to maximize her sexual gratification. I found that the more I concentrated on sheer pleasure for Cassie, the less I noticed the pain. I do not know if she knew how much pain I was enduring to give her the kind of sexual release she wanted. She was building to an orgasmic climax. I continued to concentrate on her pleasure. My tongue was hurting from fatigue, but I continued to give her all the tongue I had. Her moans became louder, her thrusts harder, intermixed with very hard squeezes of my face. When she would squeeze, I could not breathe at all. When she would release, I would inhale and exhale as hard as I could because I knew another leg grip on my face was coming. When she would squeeze my face so hard, I could hear her sucking in air between her teeth. I could hear her even though her thighs were blocking most of the sound. I knew she was delaying her orgasm as long as she could. She really liked to do that. When she climaxed, she climaxed hard. I did not know how much longer I could keep this up. Her face-fucks were hard. I knew if I lost concentration of her pleasure, I would disappoint her. I know how the male praying mantis must feel. Maybe I would sacrifice my life someday for Cassie's pleasure. I wanted it to be far into the future, however. At last, my prayers were answered, and Cassie got over the top. As her thighs and hands relaxed, her body stopped moving. She lay quietly except for her breathing. Her body was wet with perspiration. It glowed in the light. I slowly licked and sucked on her pussy. I think I am enjoying her cum more every time we make love. It has a sweet taste. I am a "Cassie Cum" addict. I did not attempt to reach my penis. I made no comment about it. It just was not important compared to totally pleasing Cassie. Nothing mattered except her pleasure. I spoke first. "That was great, Cassie. I love you." "I love you too, Charlie. Each time with you is better than the last. I thought the last time was as good as it could ever get. I know the difference. This time you dismissed everything and concentrated on my pleasure. That is what it takes to have a Goddess, Charlie. You cannot think of your pain, you certainly cannot think about your own sexual wants. Just me, Charlie, just me. I love you for that. I know I hurt you. I know you are still hurting from our tremendous fuck. I would be lying to you if I said it would ever be different. When we have finished making love, I like to have my ass kissed and licked, even more so if you did not do that during foreplay. Lick my ass, Charlie. That shows me you love me. It shows that you belong to me. It shows you really enjoy our lovemaking. It shows you continue to think of my pleasure instead of your own like most men. Those are the reasons I want you to kiss and lick my ass when we finish making love. Do you mind, Charlie?" I was already planting light kisses on her lovely ass cheeks, making little circles with my tongue. There was not a pimple, not a blemish of any kind anywhere on her ass. She was making little moaning sounds and whispers of encouragement as my tongue slowly went the length of her ass crack. I brought my mouth back to her asshole. I kissed it passionately. Frenched it lightly, then pushed my tongue in her ass a little. I did not mind the taste as much as I did before. Her little cries of "Oh Charlie, that is so good. You are proving you love me." was all I needed. I licked her ass, thinking of how beautiful she was and how much she was getting off on it. How could I give much thought to my very tired tongue? I tell myself that I will not ask to stop, I will say nothing about my penis that is so engorged, I will only continue to give Cassie pleasure. "Ohhh Charlie, that is enough, besides, I have to pee." I moved my tired mouth to her pussy. I think it was automatic. "No, Charlie, you cannot drink my pee all of the time no matter if you do want to." I knew that also. Determined to be the greatest lover Cassie could ever dream of, I said, "May I carry you to the bathroom, Cassie? I love the feel of your body on me as I give you rides." Cassie slid off the bed and sat on me as before with her beautiful legs on my shoulders sticking straight out in front of my head."Giddy up, Charlie!" she said with a sweet giggle. "Ohhh Charlie, you are so big! I have never seen anyone that big. Yeah, Charlie, I hope you never tire of getting face-fucked. "Your tongue is the ideal size and almost ideal length. Would you have the skin under your tongue clipped for me, just so you could go a little deeper in my love canal?" I did not know what was involved in that, or if there were any repercussions, but it sounded like a reasonable request. "Yes, of course I will. That will be my honeymoon gift to you!" I gave her a ride to the toilet. She dismounted and sat on the commode. As I looked into her eyes, she mouthed, "I love you," with the world's most beautiful lips. When she started to pee, I could not help but stick my tongue in the yellow flow. I would get her piss on my tongue, bring my tongue back in my mouth, savor the flavor, then stick my tongue back out for more of Cassie's piss. When I brought my tongue back in my mouth the second time, she ceased to piss. She was waiting for my tongue to come back out. I raised my eyes to try to see her face and look at her eyes as my tongue came back out for more Cassie piss. I could not see her face. She started pissing again, and as soon as my tongue was wet, I brought it back in my mouth again. Again, she stopped pissing. She had a lot of control. I do not know how many trips my tongue made out and in. I did not swallow much of her piss, but I sure had the taste in my mouth. When she finished, I licked her pussy of the last drops of her sweet flow. I felt no embarrassment, I certainly felt no shame. I was doing this because I wanted to. I know Cassie deserves it. This way, she knows she is special, and it shows how special I think she is. "You are a real find, Charlie, I love you so much. I really do." She got off of the toilet. "Stay just like that, Charlie," she giggled. She mounted my shoulders with her facing my back. She tucked her toes in the sides of my back. "I like rides like this too," she said. I started moving forward with my mouth on Cassie's pussy. "I will guide you, Charlie," she giggled. "Here, give me your hands. You will get my guidance system very quickly." She was right. When she wanted me to go to her left, she would bite a finger on my right hand. If she wanted to go right, a finger on my left hand got bit. "This is fun, Charlie, I like to ride, I like to bite. I love your mouth on my pussy. You are so much fun!" Sometimes Cassie's bites were light, sometimes quite hard. I hoped she was not bruising me too badly. I don't even know how many bruises I had already. Enough that a few more would make little difference. Cassie rode, always moving her ass so that my mouth was giving her pussy a massage. I kept licking her with my tired tongue. I hoped it would get stronger and have more endurance. I never wanted to disappoint Cassie. After I stumbled several times, Cassie said, "Charlie, I know you love my riding you like this, but you must be exhausted. Let's stop for a while." See how considerate Cassie is becoming. I would have let her ride as long as she wanted or until I was unable to get up after a stumble. My only real concern was to be sure I cushioned her fall so she would not get hurt. A couple times my face hit the carpet and her ass landed on my head. Both times she said, "Oops, sorry, did it hurt?" More signs of how considerate she is. As beautiful as she is, I would never have dreamed she was so sweet. "Charlie, you are going to wear out my little pussy with that big ol' tongue of yours." I loved it when she said witty things like that and giggled afterwards. Cassie has a wonderful sense of humor. "Charlie, if you can keep your mouth away from my pussy long enough, we need baths! You are insatiable! You may be too sexy for me!" I looked at her and could tell she was not serious. I just do not know how much more of Cassie's lovemaking my body can stand. Every muscle in my body aches, she of course is in fine form. I think she expects this every day for the rest of my life. I have already agreed to sell the business so we can have more time together. I will really get in good physical condition, a lot better than now, or she will literally kill me with her love! "Want a piggy-back ride to the bathroom, gorgeous?" I asked with a smile. "Sure," she said with a beam. I quickly dropped to all fours, and Cassie jumped on my back like mounting a horse. I thought my back would break. I said not a word but started crawling forward as she bounced and giggled. I hurt, but I do not want her to think I am a wuss, or even worse, too old for her.	null	Chapter Nine	Authors/Jim_Hale/Cassie's Secret ch 09.txt
80,742	null	Impregnated on the train by a man	You asked me what was the wildest thing I had done? It was when I was 14. For a few years before and quite a lot of years after, I was sexually insatiable, letting any boy fuck me, but I had never had a full-grown man's cock in me. Then one afternoon, I was on the train back up to North Wales after seeing my Nan. It was in the days when there was no corridor, so each compartment was separate from the other. I was already really horny, having been kissed and well-fingered at the station by a local lad. I was sat there as the train pulled out of the station, then noticed a small hole in the wall through to the next compartment. I got up and peeped through and got this intense tingling sensation in my pussy as in the next compartment was a man somewhere in his late 50's or early 60's sat there with a very large and very hard cock out, and he was wanking it slowly as he looked at a magazine. God, it made me so horny. Then the train started pulling into the station, and I had a wild idea. As the train stopped, I quickly got out of my compartment and got into his one, sitting down opposite him. He had his coat covering himself with the magazine by his side. As the train pulled away from the station, my heart was thumping in my chest so hard I thought he would hear it, but I wanted sex and his cock was the biggest I had ever seen. With my croaky voice, I said "Nice magazine," and he smiled. I knew the next station was over half an hour away, so there was time. With my heart in my hand again, I said, "Do you know there's a hole in the wall up above me, and I was watching what you were doing before we got to the last station?" He replied, "Did you like what you saw?" and with my heart thumping again, "Yes, can I see it now?" He said nothing for a minute, then said, "OK, if I can see yours." The boy at Nan's station had taken my knickers off, so I was naked under my skirt, and as he pulled his coat back and I saw his incredible full-grown man's cock, I lifted my skirt and opened my legs. I just didn't care, I was really randy and wanted a cock in me, especially a man's cock for the first time. I said, "Can I feel it?" and he nodded, so I stood up, took a step towards him, and finally took hold of the biggest cock I had seen or felt in my life. It was so hot and really heavy, and I nearly passed out with excitement when I pushed back on his foreskin and exposed a huge red helmet. His hand slid up between my legs, and a finger went straight up inside my already soaking wet pussy. "Your pussy is so wet," he said, and I told him I had been kissing a couple of lads at the station and letting them finger me, but they hadn't done it to me. He asked if I wanted him to do it, and I just stared and nodded. He got me to stand up, then bend forwards against the wall, and then I felt him lift my skirt right up over my bum. I felt him move right up, and felt his bare skin against my bum and his cock between my bum cheeks. He began rubbing his fat cock up and down my slit, and by now I was trembling with the anticipation of being filled by a big cock. I wasn't disappointed. His cock found my hole, and he began pushing, but my pussy had never had a cock that size in it before. He held it with one hand and held my hip with his other, and as he pushed his cock, he pulled me back, and with a loud yelp from me, his helmet surged up inside me. Once his helmet was in me, he held my hips with both hands and just pulled his cock all the way up inside me, and I had never ever been stretched like that or had a cock so far up inside me, but it was fantastic. Then he began fucking me, and it got even better as he began sliding his cock all the way in and out of me. It wasn't long before I started to cum, as I was already pretty sexed up, and when he heard me making little noises, his finger found my bum hole and he pushed his finger all the way up inside me as he fucked me, and I nearly screamed as I had a long, leg-weakening orgasm. He fucked me so hard my legs began going weak until the point that I was actually being supported by his cock inside me. After I had cum, he really began hammering his cock into me, and it was right then that I realised I had only finished my period around a week back, so was probably ovulating right then. He was making incredible full-length strokes all the way in and out of my body, making me gasp at every stroke, then his strokes changed to quicker, shorter strokes, and I cried out "Don't cum in me," but he just replied "Too late," and as he said that, I felt his cock flex and jerk, then as he pulled me back onto him so the full length of his cock was inside me, it began pulsing regularly, and I got an amazing sensation of warmth inside me as his sperm began shooting into me. He pulled me back hard onto his cock several more times as more and more of his adult sperm shot hard into me, and I think he shot around 10 times in me before he stopped. I tried to pull away, but he pulled me back hard onto his cock, and as his helmet squashed hard against my cervix, it started me off again, and I orgasmed again, knowing I was full of an old man's warm, living sperm and that I could very well get pregnant. He kept his cock in me for ages until the train began slowing for the station, and to be honest, I didn't mind and didn't care, as it felt so damned good with a cock that size inside my body, and as he had already filled me with sperm, it was too late to do anything. I worried for the next few weeks that I might be pregnant, but fortunately, my period came. I'll never forget that cock, though.	null	null	Authors/Uncontrollable/Impregnated on the train by a man.txt
80,827	turc443	Late Shift	Yawn. It's almost 2 a.m. here in the outskirts of Kansas City, and it's dead as usual, but that was fine. I guess I should explain. I hate sleeping and rarely get more than five hours of sleep a night. I should probably open up my own account with as much money as I blow on Red Bull and other energy drinks. It's not healthy, but I've never been that health conscious, and I hate sleeping. Since I don't sleep, I work the graveyard shift at a local convenience store. Yeah, I know the late shift is dangerous at any convenience store, but I don't let the idea of it bother me, and it pays a bit more than if I worked during the day. Not that glamorous a job, I know, but I'm one of these misdirected youths who has no direction in his life. Okay, actually I'm 22, so I'm not exactly a youth, but the rest is true. Work was pretty monotonous, and I spent most of my time listening to the radio. Occasionally, drunks would come in to buy more beer or some condoms, but other than that, it was pretty uneventful. I tried telling that to my friends and family who worried about the lateness of my shift and me being alone, and usually I succeeded in calming them. Everything was fine, except for one night months ago that I'll never forget. I was sitting behind the counter as usual, and on this particular night, I had even begun to doodle when I heard the door chime ring and someone walk in. I didn't look up or pay much attention, figuring it to be a drunk, but when the voice started to threaten me, I took notice. "This is a robbery. Put all the money in the register in a paper bag and hand it to me." There were two things I noticed right away. One, that the robber was short, less than six feet tall. Two, unless the robber had a high-pitched voice, the robber was female. The fact that the robber was dressed in black, wearing a mask, and pointing a gun at me was something else. I had been through this type of training with management before, and they insisted just to give them the money even if I thought I could take them. So I did. It was what happened next that scared the hell out of me. "Put your hands above your head and walk from behind the counter," the robber demanded with the gun still pointed at me. I was more than happy to oblige. The crook then forced me outside with the gun in my back, though she was courteous enough to let me lock the store. "Hey, guy, come here." Slowly, I turned back around to face the crook and inched my way towards her. "Okay, that's close enough. What's your name?" "Sam." "Well, Sam, do as I say, and nobody gets hurt. You might even get some enjoyment from tonight." I didn't know how to respond, so I just nodded my head in acknowledgement. "Good, I'm glad we understand each other. Now get into the van." I opened the cargo door to the van sitting in the parking lot, and with the gun still pointed in my back, I climbed in. The inside was dark, and there were no seats except for the driver's seat and the passenger seat next to it. I didn't get much of a look at the driver or anything else as I turned and faced the back of the van after being told to. The van backed in reverse for a moment before lurching forward in drive, and I just sat there quietly, wondering what was about to happen next. Statistically speaking, I should have tried to make my escape back at the store where my chances of getting out of this alive were higher than the situation I was currently in. Though nobody said anything during the drive, I could feel a pair of eyes burn a hole in my back. It was when the vehicle screeched to a halt that a lump formed in my throat, and I started to worry. The van door opened up, and the female ordered me out. Then I noticed we were in the parking lot of a Motel 6. The van took off, and I was briskly walked to a door where I was given a key and told to use it. I walked into the room and nearly jumped as the door slammed to a shut behind me. "A little jumpy, I see. I'll have to break you of that. Turn around." I did as I was told and slowly turned around. "Good. Now close your eyes." Again, I did as asked, and this time, I expected the gun to go off, but it didn't fire. I felt a fist connect squarely with my jaw. It didn't hurt as much as a gunshot would have, but it still hurt. I raised my hand to rub my jaw, but not really sure yet what was going on, I didn't say a word nor did I open my eyes. "Nice, I've finally found a good strong man in this town. You can open your eyes now." Slowly, I did, though I'm not sure why, and they widened quickly as I watched my captor remove her mask and black clothing. It wasn't so much the fact that she was standing there in a white sweat-drenched tank top and matching panties, but more due to the fact that the person who held up the store and kidnapped me was Avril Lavigne. "I can see by your eyes that you recognize who I am, so you've got one question." "Why?" "Why? Because I'm tired of having fanboys chase and lust after me. Most of them haven't even finished puberty yet and don't have any hair on their nuts. I know what I want, so I'm going to take it. You just happen to be in the right place at the right time when I drove by initially. Like I said, play along nicely, and everything will be fine." I just stood there, not really sure what to say or do next, but Avril sure did looking at my crotch. "Excellent. Now strip down and sit on the bed." For some reason, I got the feeling that tonight might not be something I'd be repeating to too many people. I was getting naked for a very demanding Avril Lavigne, and any second thoughts about doing so were quickly erased by the thought that I was getting naked for Avril. For the way she was acting, it probably wasn't a good thing at the moment to be sporting an erection as I sat on the bed. Avril saw this and, with a look of irritation, shoved me backwards onto my back and sat down on my stomach. "Jesus, you're pathetic. I'm not even fully nude, and you're sporting a hard-on," She sneered. "Do I really turn you on that much?" "...." "Come on, Sam, you can answer me. I want to know." "Ye-Yes." "That's what I thought," Avril replied as she climbed off my stomach and onto the bed. "Let me help you with that then." I nearly screamed as Avril grabbed the base of my cock and squeezed hard. I started using controlled breathing, trying not to scream anymore as her pressure increased. "Good, good, you might be the person I've been looking for," Avril grinned with a smart-ass look on her face as she released my dick. She got up and sat down in a chair just a few feet from the bed. "Like I said, play nice, and you might get some pleasure out of tonight. Now I want to watch you masturbate and come for me." My prick was still just a bit sensitive from Avril's squeezing, but after several minutes of light stroking, it no longer bothered me. I looked over at Avril, who was busy with her hand down her panties, and she didn't notice me looking at her. I continued to jack off as I watched Avril pleasure herself, and my dick was now a severely stiff flesh monster whose head continued to swell with each stroke. I closed my eyes and continued to stroke myself as visions of Avril's body bouncing up and down on my prick filled my head. It was when I pulled out of her and started shooting my cum into her long brown hair that I let a moan escape. I was quickly brought back to reality when I felt Avril's hand clamp down hard on my member again and squeeze. "Sam, all I asked you to do was to jack off and come for me. I didn't ask you to moan or make any sounds, did I?" I didn't answer as my balls were starting to hurt, and Avril had the strangest of looks in her eyes. "Well?!? Did I?!?" "No, Ms. Lavigne." "That's right, I didn't, and I never said you could call me Avril either. You will refer to me as Ms. Lavigne until I decide otherwise." I flinched ever so slightly as Avril brought a stinging right-hand slap to my face. "Now you must be punished for disobeying me. Turn over." Here I was, naked with this celebrity who I was hot for and was noticeably smaller than I was, yet she was able to make me feel like a five-year-old. I don't know, this was weird having a cheesy pop artist scream and beat me like she did, and now I was on all fours waiting to be spanked. I'm not really sure what I was expecting her to do, but a large leather paddle like the ones they use in those videos wasn't it. I was definitely caught by surprise, and on the first smack to my ass, I broke one of Ms. Lavigne's rules. "Ah, shit!" I grimaced. Avril stopped her arm in mid-stride with an enraged look on her face, but her demeanor quickly changed to a calm one. "Sam, I thought we just had a discussion on this. Can't you even be quiet during your punishment? Correct me if I'm wrong, but I still don't remember giving you permission to make a sound." "You didn't, Ms. Lavigne. I disobeyed you." "That's what I thought. Now let's give this one more try.""The second time around, I knew what was coming, and I was ready. Getting hit by leather belts doesn't feel good, and neither does a leather paddle, especially on your bare ass. But as sad as this sounds, this was Avril Lavigne essentially spanking me, and I had a major thing for her, so I was just going to lay there and take the punishment, even if she was acting a bit nutty that night. I can't remember how many times she paddled me, as I stopped counting after ten, but I could tell it had been a lot. Even after the leather left my skin, there was definitely a stinging sensation still lingering, and it got worse every time the paddle slapped down hard against my butt. Avril had kept a nice, steady motion without really saying much, so I got curious when she suddenly stopped. I started to turn my head to see what was going on, but she quickly snarled at me. "I didn't say you could turn your head!" To punish me, Avril grabbed a large piece of my ass in her hand and pinched it, twisting it around. To say that hurt like a motherfucker would be an understatement, and it took everything I had from screaming and just saying 'Fuck off!' I didn't, though. It was at that time that I happened to look down between my legs and saw just a minute amount of pre-cum dribbling out of my cock. "Oh Jesus, here we go again," I thought, "I'm not sure how much more I can take, even if it is Avril." To my most delightful surprise, I felt a hand grasp my prick, gently this time, and pull it backwards. Then an excited chill ran up my back as Avril flicked her tongue at the head of my dick. Her tongue licked over it in every direction, cleaning up the sticky substance. I felt an erection coming, and I so badly tried to fight it, simply because I didn't know how she would react next. As if sensing my unsureness, she finally spoke. "Turn around, Sam." I hesitated, not sure if this was some kind of test. "It's alright, there are no rules right now. I'm not going to beat you or anything. Please turn around." Slowly, I did turn around and sat down on the edge of the bed. I started to tense as Avril decided to sit down on the bed next to me. "See? I'm harmless right now," She reassured me, placing her hand on my thigh. Suddenly, she reared back with her other hand, like she was going to punch me, and I leapt from the bed, making for the door. Avril started to laugh. "What? Are you going to leave without your clothes? Come back, I was only kidding. I'm not going to hit you." Avril removed her shirt, perking her breasts into the air. "Pretty please?" My dick burst back to life, its erection renewing. I slowly walked back to the bed, my fleshy staff pointing straight out in front of me. I stood there for a moment, considering if this current act was for real or part of an act to get me submissive again. Avril stood up, pecking me on the cheek as her left hand slid down my stomach to my crotch, where once again her hand took hold. I flinched lightly, expecting the worst, but it never came. "I told you, Sam, calm down. I'm just Avril now. I'm not going to be domineering or bitchy anymore tonight," she reassured me, lightly stroking my penis. Perhaps against my better judgment, I sat back down on the bed. Not letting go of me, Avril lowered herself down between my legs, and I almost jumped a bit as her tongue licked across the top of my shaft. Avril looked up at me and grinned, pushing my prick up against my abdomen. I could feel my blood pulsing as she slid her tongue up and down the bottom of my shaft, leaving a small trail of moisture. Avril tongued one side of my scrotum and began to suck on it as her hand stroked my penis. Maybe I was feeling a little too sure about the situation, but I finally decided to let a few small moans out as she licked and sucked on the other side of my scrotum. I looked down, and her big blue eyes looked up at me. "You're feeling good now, aren't you? You like having me suck your dick, don't you? I can see it in your eyes. You want to fuck me bad," she said, slowly standing and still staring into my eyes. Oooooook. It's always fun to witness these hundred eighty-degree changes in people, isn't it? Shit, I was just hoping for the best and maybe Avril willing to get off as well. I slowly shook my head yes. With both arms, Avril shoved me hard in the chest. The girl had spunk and was a bit stronger than I expected. I fell backwards onto the bed, and she straddled my stomach again, pinning my arms to the bed with her legs. I just glared at her, pissed off. "What?" she screamed at me. "You think I'm just gonna start sucking your dick and let you get off? You're just a goddamn fanboy like everybody else!" Avril punched me hard in the chest one time before getting off me. She picked my clothes off the floor and threw them at me. "Get the fuck out of here!" I started to dress when I stopped and stared at her. "Didn't you hear me?!? Get dressed and get the fuck out of here!" "I am, you bitch!" Avril pulled her arm back and flung it forward to slap me. I was ready and expecting something like this, so I was able to reach up and catch her by the wrist before her hand even got close to touching my face. She started to grab and pull at my hand, trying to free herself, but to no avail. "What're you doing??? Let go!" "Shut the fuck up! You know I was more than willing to put up with a little of your shit, because you are a goddamn celebrity that I thought was smoking, but you know what? Piss off, you angry little cunt!" "What did you call me???" "You heard me! Now SHUT UP! I'm getting tired of your shit!" Avril punched me in the gut with her free hand, and I temporarily doubled over out of air. I felt her hit me in the back with a double-axe handle, and I fell to the floor. There, I almost started to get up when I came up with a plan. I just laid on the floor and let Avril kick me while she screamed and cursed. "Get up, you bastard! This isn't over with! Get up!" I kept lying there, letting her continue her tirade. After almost ten minutes, Avril suddenly stopped. "Oh shit! This isn't good..." Avril mumbled to herself. "Please tell me you're not dead..." Avril squatted next to me and placed her fingers on my neck to check for a pulse. Finding one, she was partially relieved. "Well, at least he's alive, I suppose, though I'm not sure what to do. Maybe Rico can help me. He warned me about this, the bastard." I turned my head just enough to see Avril's back to me as she picked up the handset to the phone on the nightstand. Seeing my chance, I struck. I jumped to my feet and grabbed her by her arm. I pinned both of her arms behind her back with one of mine, and with my other arm, I reached around in front of her and roughly fondled each of her breasts. I was getting immense pleasure from hearing her yelp as I rolled her nipples between my fingers and pinched them hard, sometimes pulling out on them. "I can't believe you fell for that, you stupid bitch!" Avril moaned when I threw her hard onto the bed, and she bounced off, landing on the floor. I saw the gun she pulled on me next to the phone on the nightstand and grabbed it, waiting as she got back to her feet. She stopped cold when she saw me pointing it at her. "What? Are you going to shoot me? I'm a fucking celebrity! You'll never get away with this!" "Well, Avril, do as I say, and nobody gets hurt. You might even get some enjoyment from tonight. Now take off your panties." Avril gave me the evil eye as she removed the last bit of clothing. "You know what, Sam? Fuck you! You want to fuck me so bad, you little pervert, than go ahead!" Avril laid down on the bed and spread her legs. I so wanted to slap the hell out of her at the moment, but I didn't. "Come on, you big pussy! You have me where you want me!" "No, Avril, fuck you! You started all this bullshit! Had you left me alone tonight, I would still be at the store working! Go to hell, why don't you!" I emptied out the clip of the gun and let it fall to the floor. I then turned around to pick up my clothes. As soon as I did, I knew it was a mistake. I felt the back of my head get struck by a shoe. My head shot forward, and it filled with pain. As I started to turn back around, I noticed Avril's hand reaching back to strike again. I blocked her attack with my left hand, and with my right, I reared back and bitch-slapped the girl like there was no tomorrow. Avril staggered back several steps, holding her hand to her face. Her mouth was wide open, and she looked nothing but shocked. I shoved Avril down to the bed and wrapped my hand around her neck. "Alright, fine! You want it rough and nasty? Then fine!" I punched her once in the stomach as a warning. I could hear Avril squeal as the air left her body, and she took short, quick breaths. With her breasts in my hand once again, I took great enjoyment in grabbing and squeezing them. Her little brown nipples tasted sweet between my lips, and I made Avril jump as my teeth nibbled down on them. "Stop it!" She whined. "What's wrong, Avril? Don't like it rough anymore? If you can't take the heat, get out of the kitchen." I rubbed my hand over her belly one more time to see where I might like to punch her again if need be. She reacted with some hesitancy, but did little to fight back. Now motionless, Avril was an easy target as I got between her legs. I spread her little pink walls apart and dipped my tongue inside. She tasted sweet, and even a bit sweaty, she smelled great too. I took to licking her outer edges, and my index finger squeezed into her slit as my saliva moistened the area surrounding it. I pulled my index finger back out and slipped it and my middle finger in Avril's mouth. She sucked on them momentarily as I licked her folds. "Mmmmm..." Avril moaned. With a great slurping noise, I pulled my fingers from Avril's mouth and brought them back down to her cuntal lips."I licked and lapped at her pussy while pushing my fingers in and out of her pussy. "Sam... I..." Avril whined and moaned as I penetrated her with my fingers. The girl was horny, and her body ached with wetness forming between her legs. Avril started to reach down to touch herself, but I stopped her, knocking away her hand. "No," was all I said. I climbed onto the bed and spread Avril's legs out. With my dick in my hand, I slid it into her sloppy, damp box. I gripped Avril's small hips with my hands and started to thrust deep into her. My cock slid in and out of her easily enough, until I felt her pussy pulse and clamp down on the base of my prick. I looked up at Avril's face and became disappointed with what I saw. Her eyes were closed, and her mouth was open as small moans of pleasure escaped. Avril's hands were at her chest, pushing them together, fondling them playfully. I let go of her hip with my right hand, and with her eyes closed, I was easily able to wrap my hand around her neck and pin it to the bed. Her eyes shot open, and her eyebrows furrowed. "What the fuck are you doing?" She growled. "Ending this the way you started. I couldn't have any pleasure, and neither shall you." With my having to lean over her to hold her neck in my hand, Avril was close enough to slap me. It stung, but I just laughed it off. Avril got really upset and slapped me again. Again, I just laughed, but my grip on her throat tightened as I kept pushing inside of her. Then, to make up for her two slaps, I hit her with one of my own. I kept smiling at her, and she kept growling at me. At that moment, Avril decided to pinch and twist one of my nipples. My body jerked, and my dick suddenly started aching badly. Perhaps doing it because she wanted, perhaps doing it because she could sense my change, Avril started to pinch and twist my nipples quickly, over and over. My hand suddenly tightened around her throat, and Avril was caught by surprise, coughing at the sudden tightness. This girl was perhaps more kinky than a bitch. I could feel her pussy squeeze harder and harder around my cock as my grip tightened more and more around her throat. I could see her face turn blue, and yet she didn't fight to move my hand. Instead, her hands reached up and pinched my nipples again, yanking down hard on them. I almost started to worry about Avril's airway as my hand was now clutching her throat, but my body was too busy heaving in orgasm as I pulled out. With my dick in my hand, my semen started to spurt out, splashing down her stomach. As I tried to catch my breath and register what just happened, Avril started to hit me on my arm. I looked up to see her face almost purple now, and I let go of her throat. Avril sucked in a big gust of air as high-pitched squeals left her mouth, and her eyes rolled into the back of her head. I sat there almost stunned, trying to figure out what was going on. With my knees so close to Avril's body, I was able to feel as some type of substance hit one of them. I looked down and saw as the trail end of her girl juices squirted from her pussy. I smiled widely. Avril was a gusher. When I saw that Avril was again breathing normally, I got up to go wash and clean off in the bathroom. I wasn't sure what to expect anymore, and if she still was a bitch, I didn't want to have to deal with that ire, so I grabbed a washcloth from the counter, wetting it in the sink, and wiped my knee and dick off. "You know you could take a shower if you wanted." I jumped at suddenly having Avril behind me. I didn't say a word while I looked her up and down, trying to assess her demeanor. "What?" She asked. "The sex is over with. It's cool now, I swear I won't beat or cuss you out anymore tonight." "Thanks for the offer, but I've got to get going." "Where to?" "Work. I've got to try and think of something to say instead of 'I was kidnapped by Avril Lavigne at gunpoint and forced to have sex with her.' It'll kinda be hard to believe." "Don't worry about it. Just take back the money and say that you managed to escape at some point. I'll yank the plates off the van and clean it up. Nobody will be the wiser." "And you really think that'll work?" "Of course. Would they have any reason not to believe you?" "Not really." "Good. Then it's settled." "Yeah, I suppose it is. One thing though. What the hell was with the charade of being an uber-bitch?" "Like I said earlier, fanboys don't do anything for me. Like at my show tomorrow night, I could walk into the crowd and choose from any of the guys out there, but fuck, man, if they won't be creaming in their pants once they see my tits. I need to go a different direction to find myself a man and get laid, and tonight it was you. Let me ask you something now. Why did you stick around after the kidnapping and physical abuse I gave you?" "Well, I'm one of those fanboys too. I like your album, but as my fifteen-year-old counterpart would say, 'Damn, you're hot!' Besides, once I saw it was you, I kinda figured you wouldn't really shoot me, but who knows. I've seen stranger things happen. Now, if you don't mind, I'm gonna take you up on that offer and shower." I turned on the shower and played with the nozzle until I got the heat just right. I grabbed a towel and the complimentary shampoo from the counter. I set the towel on top of the toilet and moved the shower curtain, stepping into the bathtub. I looked around and noticed there was no soap in the tub. "Hey, can you hand me the soap?" I shouted. Thwack! The soap zipped past my head and slammed into the bathroom wall. "There you go, now move over," Avril said, getting in next to me.	null	null	Authors/turc443/lateshift.txt
80,874	Vividly Uninhibited	Liaisons Erotiques, N° 1	You arrive at the designated meeting place as had been agreed, and spot me. I see you come toward where I'm sitting and, as you lower yourself into the chair opposite, we exchange introductions. We talk a while about any number of things, just as I said we would. Eventually, it becomes time to part company, and I walk you back to your car. After you unlock it, I gently spin you around and push you lightly against the door. Leaning in as if to kiss you, I place my hand above your waist. You hesitate... Parting my lips slightly, I press them against yours and kiss you lightly on the mouth. As you begin returning the kiss, my hand moves upwards slowly, stopping just under your breast. My thumb and forefinger stretch out, searching for the telltale signs of a bra through the thin material of your blouse. Though you knew to expect something unorthodox, you start to resist the move with signs of doubt rising in your eyes. I smile inwardly, because you did indeed remember some of the things we had discussed. With my fingertips, I gently caress the firm underside of your breast for a fleeting moment as an acknowledgement, before withdrawing my hand and breaking the kiss. Stepping back a little, I congratulate you on having passed my impromptu test. Further, I tell you that I would like to spend more time with you. You hesitate a split second before accepting, and I ask you to dinner the following night. I hold the door of your car open, allowing you to get in. Then, after closing it, I simply turn and walk back from whence I came... CHAPTER: 2) The Probe We had our first face-to-face encounter, and you've shown me then that you indeed remember things we discussed. By accepting my invitation, you have again let me know that those details somehow interested you. Before I shut your car door, I told you that we would finalize dinner plans online, later that night. I suggested that we dine at a place I know, and that we meet at my place. At first, you hesitated, so I suggested a neutral place nearby instead. After giving you directions, you decided that coming here would be easier. But before calling it a night, I broached one final matter, and shut down the computer wondering how things would turn out the following evening. Just a few minutes after the appointed hour, you arrived at my door. You chose to wear a fairly simple, semi-casual dress that accentuated your figure in a flattering way. After a light kiss and embrace, I invited you in for a few minutes while I went to fetch my jacket, before heading out to eat. The place I chose was nearby, so I suggested we take advantage of the nice weather and walk there. Dinner was delightful, and while waiting for the check, I casually rested my hand on the table near you. I was gratified when, instead of withdrawing it, you responded with your hand very close to mine. Tentatively, I outstretched my fingers to brush lightly against it, before withdrawing it. On the walk back, I offered you my arm and you accepted. Getting back to my home, I invited you in once more, and again you accepted. You seated yourself in a chair, whilst I sat in the adjacent loveseat. As we talked, I rested my hand on the armrest, and soon yours followed suit. Slowly, I moved my hand closer to yours, until I was able to rest it upon yours. This caused you to pause and look at me questioningly, and me to withdraw again. I offer you some dessert, and you accept. After I returned from the kitchen and offered you the plate, you relocated to the loveseat, seating yourself next to me and setting aside your plate. You then rested your hand on mine and gave it a light squeeze. Turning to face you, I find you leaning close, so I obliged you with a light kiss. As you returned it, I felt you move my hand towards you, releasing it as it came in contact with your outer thigh. Then you broke the kiss and gave me a slight nod, which I returned. After a beat, I kissed you again, a little harder this time, while my other hand reached for your far arm and pulled you gently closer. One of your hands soon came in contact with my knee and began traversing up my thigh. In response, I matched your move with mine. Suddenly, your hand jerked towards my lap, your outstretched thumb colliding with the growing bulge in my slacks. I responded in kind with a similar move, before pressing my hand against the valley between your thighs in a sudden move. Then you broke the kiss again, pushing my hand firmly off you. Again you gave me a slight nod, and after I responded in kind, you told me you needed to go. We agreed to chat online again after you arrived home. Watching you drive away, my mind started to wonder about the many directions things might take... CHAPTER: 3) The Journey With the prospect of endless possibilities looming closer, I eagerly awaited your online arrival. Eventually, it came, and our conversation delved deeper into certain matters, and flitted across the surface of others. In due course, all that had to be said was said, and all the plans, planned. All that remained was to wait; Wait for the proper time that came all too slowly. Finally, the day arrived, and I set out to the appointed place with nervous glances at the sky above, concerned that the weather would put a stop to that which was expected to unfold. The timing was perfect: No sooner had I parked than you arrived in the carpark. I greeted you with a brief kiss on the cheek after you exited your car, and you smiled in return before retrieving a knapsack from the passenger seat. I looked at you in askance, but you chose to ignore this. Thus, we set off on our trek. The trailheads were easy to find, and instead of starting on the red trail as intended, I made the spot decision to take the shorter, yellow one instead. Rounding the first bend, I reached out to take your hand, and so we walked hand in-hand. As we went further along the trail, I began caressing the back of your hand with my thumb, a gesture you soon returned. Further still, your hand separated from mine and your arm found its way around my waist. Nearing the halfway mark, I suddenly pointed to something trailside and broke away. You stopped and then came over to join me, whereupon I grasped you firmly, one hand on your shoulder, the other around the small of your back, and pulled you in. Stiffening instinctively, you tried to pull away, as I swung you about and against a tree, my mouth advancing on yours. My parted lips bore down on yours they slowly part, while your body slowly relaxes. Contact! My tongue darts into your mouth... and then the rain began. I released you from my hold and took your hand, leading you at a fast pace down the trail, to a not too distant spot where I know shelter could be found. We made it just in time to the hollow to one side of the trail. It isn't much; A mere dent in the cliff wall, deep enough to keep the rain off one person (and with a little creativity, perhaps two). Of course, we were both wet by now. We arranged ourselves as best we could in the confined space, huddling. Bodies pressed close to stay out of the downpour as much as possible, riding out the storm. Little did I know how the intended plans had just changed... CHAPTER: 4) The Exploration The laws of physics took hold as the rain grew in intensity, kicking up a light, yet damp draft that found its way in the overfilled hollow. To this was added the slightly muddy splatter from the copious raindrops striking the ground. Combined with the moisture already held by the fabric of our clothes, it was thus only natural and a matter of time before we began feeling the chill. The cold caused you to shudder, and I pressed you closer against me, in an attempt at sharing my body's warmth with you. You in turn clasped me tighter against yourself with similar intent. And so we remained for a few minutes, until there was an unexpected clap of thunder which caused you to jump, nearly sending me out into the downpour. Then, after I got myself situated once more, you leaned in to nuzzle against my neck before repositioning your head to kiss me. Taken aback, I found myself returning the sudden kiss. Your lips parted and your tongue began thrusting into my mouth, our kiss becoming deeper, while your hands began roaming my body, which by sheer motion was slowly being pushed back out from the hollow and into the rain. Once you had adequate room in which to move, you took one of my hands in yours and pressed it against your breast, and squeezing it lightly before releasing it. My hand lingered there a moment before I started withdrawing it, which exacted a mumbled protest from you. Thus, I began caressing the its curvature and became aware that only bare flesh lurked beneath the fabric of your top.Shifting my thumb and forefinger, I surprised you by finding and then lightly pinching your nipple through the damp cloth, causing you to jerk and push me all the way into the downpour. But as it turned out, since I was still holding on to you, this move also pulled you out of the hollow. Leveraging myself, I pulled you all the way out and on top of me, whereupon I resumed kissing you. Though the rain began slacking off a little, it didn't take long for both of us to be completely soaked. Our hands roaming each other's bodies in uninhibited fashion, you soon found yourself on your back, with me straddling you. I grasped your wrists and pulled them above your head, holding you down as I began kissing and nibbling on your neck and ears, until you figured out a way to gain leverage and invert our positions. Trapped beneath you, with your legs clamped firmly against my sides and immobilizing me by firmly holding my wrists, you bent over and kissed me fierce and hard. Breaking the kiss, you sat up to straddle my waist and deftly pulled your soaked and muddy top over your head, casting it in the direction of the hollow. My hands rose up to clasp your sides as you closed your eyes, tilted your head back, and arched backward to allow the heavy downpour to strike your face and taut skin. Your nipples hardening from the impact of those copious drops striking them drew me further into a state of arousal as I watched the rivulets of water flow down over your belly, from where it slowly seeped under the waistband of your cutoffs. As your arms outstretched behind you for support, my hands slid downward towards your waist. The motion of my fingers lightly grazing just above the waistband caused you to shudder slightly, and your breath to catch as my hands met at the middle. I undid the clasp and pulled on the zipper a bit. A soft moan escaped as the water began flowing more freely along your body. The rain intensified a little, and you began lowering yourself onto your back, hips upraised. Sitting up, I watched as you began to push your cutoffs off your hips, exposing your smoothly shaven mound to the direct assault of the downpour. I carefully repositioned in such a way as to support your body as you began to arch it again, just as the rain began to slacken and ultimately stop. Your eyes fluttered open as I leaned over and kissed what parts of your wet form I could reach, and you began to chuckle. I stopped. You tell me that I'm quite the sight. Looking at you, you fared no better. Both of us are thoroughly drenched and dirty. We decide it would be best to go, and you suggested I follow you to your place, where I could clean up and dry off. With a remark of dismay, you reached for your satchel, which had gotten knocked out from the hollow. You showed me the contents of the satchel, which had filled with rainwater, soaking some spare clothes you had brought along (well, at least one of us had planned ahead!). After changing into the clean, but wet clothes, we set off for our cars. As I followed you, I played back what had happened. So engrossed was I in my thoughts, that I nearly missed a turn. Nevertheless, it wasn't long until we turned onto the long, narrow lane which ended in front of a solitary house flanked by a broad lawn on one side, and a row of hedges on the other. And then the rain started coming down again... The Conquest I pulled up as you emerged from your car, directing me where to park. You approached me as I emerged, and arm outstretched you shoved me hard against it, slamming the door shut with my back pressed against it while assaulting my mouth with a fierce kiss. Managing to free my arms, I enveloped you in them as I returned it. Your hips began to grind against my rapidly swelling groin, when there was a sudden flash of lightning and clap of thunder. The rain suddenly intensified. You then pulled away slightly and yanked my wet and muddied shirt up and over my head, casting it aside. Another flash of lightning; your fingers pinched and then tugged at one of my nipples, sending a tingle down my spine. My hand shot out and closed on the fabric of your t-shirt. As I started to pull it free, you moaned. But then I remembered something you had said once, so I paused in wait for the right moment. As the next peal of thunder rolled over us, I grasped the fabric and yanked it hard, ripping the material. You froze, and I used that moment to tear the fabric further, nearly exposing your breasts. The rain slacked off as I pulled you back in and spun so that your back was now against my car. Thus pinned, my hands roamed and in the process, found and opened up your cutoffs. As I worked to free you from them, I drew back in to kiss you. The wind picked up, and then the rain once more, and as it did, we groped and fondled each other with ever increasing passion, divesting each other of whatever clothes remained on our bodies. I'm not sure how it happened, but you had freed yourself from leaning against the car, and drew me towards the lawn. There you tripped me, causing me to fall, and then pinned me against the wet blades of grass. Rolling me onto my back, you straddled me and, grasping my rigid cock to hold it steady, thrust yourself downwards onto it. I made to reach out and hold you, but you lashed out and restrained my wrists. Your tight cunt sliding up and down my shaft was like heaven, and soon I was moaning from the intensity of it. Your back arched as you rode me with maniacal intensity, causing the raindrops to pelt your body, and either run down it in rivulets, or be flung off you from the force of your movements. The sky grew noticeably darker as the rain turned into a wind-driven deluge, but this went unnoticed by you as you surrendered yourself to your inner sensations. Another flash of lightning, and you began to buck wildly. Then your mouth opened wide and your voice joined the peal of thunder as you let out a long, loud moan. Your muscles clenched about my shaft as your body was wracked by one of the fiercest orgasms I ever witnessed. I could feel your juices bursting forth around me. The combined sensations were too much, even for me. Unbidden, my own orgasm overtook me, releasing burst upon burst of cum into your deepest recesses. With the pulsing of my cock within you, you leaned forward, and as both our orgasms finally subsided, you collapsed on top of me, out of breath, and shortly, you rolled yourself off me coming to a rest on the grass beside me. Thus we lay for I know not how long, on the lush lawn, with the rain beating on us. Then it began to hail...	null	1) The Test	Authors/Vividly_Uninhibited/plaintext/vignettes/liaisons_01.txt
80,911	Dirk Carlor	What I Learned From Dad	You ask any of my buddies on the wrestling team, and they'll all tell you, when coach says "HUSTLE," you better move your sweet ass as fast as you can to the place where he wants you to be. And when you get there, you better get down on one knee, shut your mouth, and listen to every word coach barks. So even though my recently virgin ass now felt like a train tunnel, even though I was coping with the fact that I was filled to the brim with my father's cum and piss, and even though I had spent the majority of yesterday chewing on my girlfriend's dad's furry ass, I got up off the floor and hustled, hustled, hustled up the stairs into my dad's bedroom. My semi-hard, still leaking cock hung out from me like a crank as I sank to one knee. Coach was right behind me, and as he came in, he locked the door. His own long and hairy cock was sticking out angrily, fully hard and throbbing. He tugged at it nonchalantly as he talked to me. "Alright, Dirk. We only have one hour before I have to have you filled with my man juice and returned to your father, so let's listen carefully and do just as I say, understand?" "YES COACH!" I barked. Coach smirked, impressed by how effective his coaching tactics had been during practices, to keep his star wrestler so well-controlled even when he is being humiliated over and over. "Alright then. I know you've been the top wrestler for a few seasons now. But I think you've been getting a little too cocky for your own good. You've been strutting around in front of me like you owned the mats. It's one of the reasons I came by today. Hey boy, my eyes are up here." I hadn't realized it, but I had been staring at coach's giant bouncing cock while he talked. I reluctantly pulled my eyes up to meet his savage brown ones. "So, I thought it would be best for you to take me on. We're gonna have a little match right here on your daddy's bed. Winner takes all. You think you can handle that?" I stood up and saluted coach, my boy cock rising quickly to join in the salutations. "I'm ready, coach!" Coach wagged a finger at me with the hand that wasn't gripping his tool and shook his head. "Ah, ah ah. We're not ready to go yet. What do I say about always having the right equipment?" "Sorry, coach, but I don't have my jock straps or singlets or anything." "No jock straps needed." Since I was back to staring at coach's beautiful meat, he used it to point towards the bed. Again, I pulled my eyes away from his tool and saw two singlets, mine and coach's, folded neatly on the bed. How much in advance had these men planned for me? "First, you're going to put mine on me, then you can put your own on. Then we'll get down to business." I walked to the bed and picked up Coach's signature red singlet. It was slightly bigger than mine and showed a little more wear and tear. I brought it over to coach, who was waiting with his hands on his hips, an expectant look in his eye. I knelt down so he could step into it, his raging hard-on so close to my face I could feel its warmth, its power. Silently, I pulled up the spandex singlet, over his massive hairy thighs. I squeezed those tree trunks, and they were solid as boulders. Coach turned so I could pull the singlet up his back, over that delicious hairy ass that was actually causing me to salivate. I don't even know myself anymore, salivating over a hairy asshole! I pull the straps up, letting coach slip his hands through, feeling his muscular biceps. When it was on, coach made an "ahem" noise and turned around. He was pointing with both hands at his crotch. I looked down and realized that he had cut a perfectly circular hole out of the crotch. His thick pubic bush was billowing over the edges of the circle, but his massive hard cock was stuck underneath it. It stretched well across the diameter of the hole and down one thigh. "Pull 'em out!" he ordered. Not to anger coach, I reached in and grabbed his dick where it stretched across the hole. It snapped out and slapped his spandex-covered abs, then slowly bobbed down until it was pointing straight out. "And my nuts, dumbass," he growled. I fished into the spandex until I found his two heavy, fuzzy nuts. I pulled them out so that his nice package was now hanging out like a framed picture. "Alright, Dirk. Now go suit up and let's get going." I walked over to the bed and picked up that familiar blue and yellow singlet of mine. I stretched it out and noticed that thankfully the crotch of mine was still intact. The coach wasn't planning on using my dick then, thank god. Looking back, I can't believe how stupid of a thought that was. Coach had no interest in my dick. The face of the lion, our school's mascot, looked at me from the back of my singlet as I stepped into it. I was excited about putting on a piece of clothing that wasn't my father's underwear. It had been almost 24 hours of nude humiliation. But once I pulled the singlet up over my back, I realized that I had been ignorant of what coach was up to. I could feel the cool air conditioning on my bare ass. Looking back, I saw that coach had cut a hole that fit my ass perfectly. How often he had seen my muscular ass in that singlet, of course he knew just where to make the cut. I gulped, now seeing where this was going. "Alright, boy, up on the bed and in the bottom position. That's a position you'll be getting very used to." I nodded silently and mounted my father's bed. It was still kind of messy; dad didn't make it that morning. I guess he had my impending lesson on his mind. I could smell my father on the sheets, and it made my dick even harder. I got on all fours, my ass facing coach. He must have had a nice view of my recently popped cherry. He climbed up behind me and took the position of the top in wrestling. His hard cock slid up the crack of my ass; I could feel it throbbing against my rosebud. He wrapped one arm under my stomach, and the other on my left elbow. He leaned over me; I could feel his chest hair in his singlet on my bare back. Then he whispered in my ear, "This is going to be a little different, Dirk. Instead of trying to pin you on your back, I'm going to pin you on your stomach. And I'm going to use my cock to do it, do you understand?" "Uh...huh. But uh..Coach? What if you can't pin me?" Coach slapped my ass hard and laughed at me. "That's not likely, boy. But I'll tell you what, if I can't pin you, then I'll let you go free. No fucking or anything. Alright?" "Thank you, sir." "Alright, let's go. One...two...three!" Coach pulled on my arm, and my chest fell flat. I could feel his big cock in my crack, just inches from my hole, and that was my motivation. I quickly flipped myself over, so that coach was now on top of me, and we were face to face. I struggled, wrapped my thighs around coach's thick waist. He pushed me down, trying to flip me. "Open your mouth!" Coach had that look in his eye that said even though we were wrestling fair and square, I should still listen to his orders. I opened my mouth as we struggled. Coach, still on top of me, spit a big wad of spit into my mouth. "SWALLOW" he commanded, and swallow I did. Then I squirmed and moved, both of us struggling, coach's big biceps on me like an anaconda, his cock like a rattler snake on my stomach. We turned and struggled until eventually my head was down by coach's big hairy feet. "SUCK ON THOSE FEET WHILE I KICK YOUR ASS DIRK!" Suck on his feet? No way! They were so big and hairy...I couldn't. And yet...I felt my mouth opening, as if coach's voice had me hypnotized. And soon I had four of coach's long, hairy, sweaty toes in my mouth fondling my tongue. I sucked on his toes for 10 or 20 minutes as we wrestled, and also ran my tongue up and down the long, rough soles of his feet. Eventually, I couldn't take it anymore, and I started to squirm down, licking up his hairy thighs as I moved up. Finally, I got to the hole in his singlet, and his big cock was running down my nose, his huge balls resting on my forehead. "Aw, what's the matter, boy, all those toes make you hungry for the real thing? Well, go ahead and suck it. I just hope you don't lose your concentration." And with that, coach's hairy cock slipped halfway down my throat. As we struggled, I gave him a blowjob, allowing his thrusting movements to face-fuck me. I gagged and coughed, but managed to keep it together as I moved up more to take in his balls. Those heavy, hairy, musty nuts filled my mouth as I groaned around them, trying to get on top of him. And then, slowly, I felt myself becoming intoxicated by his scent, and before I knew it, he had flipped me over. "Shit! Shit!" I started to panic.I knew that now he had me in this situation, it was only a matter of seconds until I got the second rage-filled fucking of my life. I felt Coach sneaking down my body... wait... down? Where was he going? And then I felt his hands at the globes of my ass, pulling them apart. Then hot breath... and then, BAM, Coach's tongue was darting into my ass. "OOOOOOH FUCK!" I started moaning like a bitch at the combination of Coach's smooth, wet tongue in my hole and his rough, scratchy goatee on my ass crack. "CHRIST COACH!" I felt myself slacken, it was one of the best feelings of my life. I was going limp, in heaven with a man's tongue in my ass. Again, I had to wonder who I had become. And then, as Coach rammed his tongue into me one last time, my dick lost it and I shot yet another countless load all inside my own singlet. I spasmed and screamed "CHRIST THANK YOU COACH!" as I ejaculated, feeling my warm cum soak into my spandex. I came for a long time, and I could hear Dad and Jenny's father downstairs laughing at the noise I was making. Finally, I stopped cumming, and lay there waiting to get up. Now, during practices, Coach was always stressing speed. He said in a good wrestler, speed was more important than strength. And Coach gave me the most clear lesson in this as soon as I stopped cumming. In a lightning second, Coach was up from my ass, and his cock was pushing at my still tight, now wet hole... but only for a second. Suddenly, the entire length of his snake-like cock was in me, to the hilt. "PINNED YOU BITCH!" "AHHHHHHHH OH FUCK NO!!!!" But it was too late. Coach was already humping me like a wolf in heat, and he showed no sign of stopping. I whimpered and cried like the bitch I was, but curiously when Coach pulled out his dick and said "HAD ENOUGH?" I screamed back "IT'S NEVER ENOUGH SIR!" And the jackhammering continued. It went on for over 45 minutes, and suddenly there was a pounding at the door. "TIME'S UP, COACH!" came the gruff voice of Jenny's dad. "MY TURN!" "JUST UH... FUCK OH GOD... SECOND MORE... FUCK THIS ASS IS TIGHT!" "Ow! Fuck yes, Coach! Harder! OOOH FUCK OW!!!" "LET ME IN NOW! I PAID FOR HIS ASS JUST LIKE YOU!" "ALMOST... UGH... DONE... CHRIST... UGH... HERE IT COMES... GAHHHHHHHHHHHHhh!!!!!" Spurt after spurt of the Coach's thick and creamy daddy cum filled me up. He was bucking with each spurt, coating my insides once more, mixing his cum with my dad's like a cocktail. When his last shuddering spurt had entered me, he pulled out and slapped my ass. By this time, Jenny's dad was banging on the door, almost knocking it in. Coach unlocked the door, and Jenny angrily pushed him aside. I could do nothing but lay there, several loads of cum leaking out of my ass, still framed in the hole in my singlet. "Now get out of here! It's my time with Dirk, and I've got a hell of a lot planned for this little shit." Jenny's dad pushed Coach out, locked the door, and said in his deep, rough voice, "Whatever Coach just did to you is nothing for what you're about to get from me. Get ready for the wildest, craziest, nastiest, most painful and wonderful hour of your young life, Faggot." Oh god, what now? And why did these words make me smile?	null	Chapter 7	Authors/Dirk_Carlor/What I Learned From Dad/Chapter 7.txt
81,228	null	Sara and Me	You know how it is, you take your wife, girlfriend, or whatever out for a nice, relaxing evening, and there's a bunch of screaming kids at the next table. In our case, we were eating on the terrace outside, and at the next table were half a dozen men having a good time. The problem was their good time bled over into our good time. Besides being loud, they kept staring at Sara and making rude comments. Now, I can't blame them for staring, for Sara is slim with full breasts, silky hair, style, and an aura that screams sex. Perhaps I misjudged them, for as we were about to leave, one of them came over with a couple of drinks and apologies for their behavior. We thanked them, had the drinks, and left. When we got to the parking lot, I was feeling a little woozy. I didn't think I had that much to drink, but thought that maybe Sara should drive. It was a very strange sensation, for when I turned to talk to Sara, she wasn't next to me, and I seemed to be moving in slow motion. I saw her behind me, surrounded by the men from the table next to us, and when I started over there, I wasn't sure if I was moving. I could see and hear them, I just wasn't moving. I felt fine, in fact, pretty good, but it was as if my legs were not listening to my brain; I just stood there looking at them, feeling slightly puzzled, perhaps, but that was about all. I watched as they escorted Sara to a van, then two of them came over to me, and at their suggestion, I willingly followed them and climbed into the vehicle with them. We were all talking comfortably; they seemed like good people. My body seemed to be working fine, but it seemed that I just wasn't completely sure it was me. It was almost as if I was viewing a movie, but that I could talk to the actors and walk into the scenes. After a drive of some duration, we arrived at a nice-looking home, strolled in, and were led to a large recreation area, very pleasant, very friendly. We sat down, and one of the men leaned forward and explained things to us. Apparently, they were going to have a party with Sara, and that I would watch and enjoy. This sounded fine with me, and Sara seemed to like the idea. As I settled back into my chair, slow, seductive music with a strong backbeat filled the room. Sara glided into the center of the room, swaying to the music. Now, Sara is not a flashy dresser; she had on a simple, light dress that reached to just below the knees, but it draped beautifully over her full breasts, clinging across her waist to drop over her hips. She does have a touch of the exhibitionist about her, is very enthusiastic about sex, and is a bit of a size queen. As she undulated across the floor, she was sex personified. She exuded a sheer raw sexuality that could be felt, that drew you to her to the exclusion of everything else. It was her and the music and a palpable lust that almost pressed you back in the chair. I was instantly aroused by her dance. The skirt of her dress flicked back and forth as her hips ground out the slow beat, the restricted sway of her breasts stretching out the fabric only to bob back into position with her next movement. Her hands caressed her body, sliding sensually up her sides, stroking over her chest to plunge down across her stomach, briefly molding her dress between her legs. Her head was thrown back, her mouth open as the music grabbed her, directing her movements, drawing her hands up to cup her heavy breasts, lifting them, offering them to her audience. She was lost in the music, enjoying her own performance as she drew up the hem of the dress, exposing her legs briefly, then releasing her skirt to float back down. Her hands were drawn more frequently to between her legs, pausing there now to give a slight caress before lifting her dress or returning to the stroking of her breasts. The front of her dress was wrinkled and damp where she had pressed it into her crotch. Noting how aroused she was only spurred me on. Mentally, I was ready to rip off my clothes and fuck her, but physically, I could do nothing, my body refusing to obey its commands. My arousal continued to grow as once again she lifted her dress, this time lifting it higher until her pubic mound was exposed, holding it bunched around her waist, letting us drink in the view of her damp panties. Her hips rolled with the music, thrusting out with the beat; we could see that the material of her brief panties had split the lips of her pussy, and they were protruding from either side of the buried fabric. She twirled, exposing her ass to our panting gaze, bending at the waist to give a brief glimpse of her panties buried in her ass cleft. My body was responding involuntarily; I was growing harder, but I had no control over my actions. Sara lifted the dress over her head and tossed it aside, still rocking her hips but now thrusting her ass at us, bending deeply, her hair spilling over her head, glancing at us between her spread legs. Her dance was of pure sex and sensuality. It was an all-encompassing atmosphere of lust that wrapped us in desire and want. She seemed to control us with her movements as we followed each motion with hungry eyes, begging her to allow us to take her. She spun around as the tempo of the music increased, letting us see her bra-encased breasts, the mounds of her full bosom bouncing inside their cups, threatening to spill out. Grasping her panties above each hip, she slowly pulled up on the sides, grinding her hips as she pulled the fabric tighter into her vulva, exposing more of her pussy. Her body moving faster in its fluid motions as the beat sped up, stretching her panties to the breaking point as she worked them hard against her vagina, her breasts jumping inside their restriction, her nipples making brief appearances as her boobs shook. My focus was broken when I noticed movement among the other men. Shirts were being unbuttoned, pants unzipped as the other men began to undress. I was puzzled why I couldn't join them, but not really concerned; it was just not something that I was allowed to control. Sara was cupping her breasts through her bra, the tops of her dark aureoles exposed, the nipples peeking out as she again offered them to the watching men. Her dance had lost some of its abandon as she was now aware of the men as they undressed. Her focus was more direct; she was dancing for them, no longer dancing to express the lust she alone was feeling inside herself. I realized with a start that she, unlike me, had control over her actions, that she was doing this not because she had no choice, but because she wanted to. Apparently, whatever drug had been placed in our drinks, I had received a much stronger dosage. As the men finished undressing, remaining standing after sliding off their clothes, she removed her bra, letting it drop away as her hands covered her heavy hanging breasts, the erect nipples peeking between her fingers. She would mash her breasts into her chest, then lifting and holding them out, releasing them to sway under their own weight. She began to dance closer to the men, her eyes lighting on each one as she took inventory of the gifts she was about to receive. Most of the men were of average build, hung between six to seven inches. Two, however, were extraordinary. One guy, with jet-black hair, had an incredible cock. It was bobbing heavily, struggling to grow erect against its thick weight, arcing out from his abdomen about 14 inches, lowering to nearly touch his knee, then its two-and-a-half-inch width slowly rising as he moved. It was a parody of a normal cock, thick veins extending down its length, visibly pumping blood to the great head, throbbing with energy, a bull of a cock that was going to penetrate wherever it wanted. The other cock was even more unusual, hanging straight down, well past the knees; it had a smallish head, not much larger than an ordinary cock, but growing wider as it rose until it became a huge trunk four inches across. The weight was such that the skin on either side of his cock stretched as it pulled his flesh down. I watched transfixed as it continued to fill with blood, struggling against gravity and his seemingly puny body as it inched its way up from the vertical, moving in small incremental twitches as his heart pumped blood. It slowly filled, becoming more erect. Sara was totally absorbed by these two monsters. Unconsciously, she slid her panties off, unaware of her hand stroking herself between her legs as her eyes darted back and forth between the two, her face indicating her disbelief.She continued to move with the music without realizing it, her previously graceful and sensual movements now a more awkward, jerking shuffle as she stroked herself, drawn inexorably towards these men who were going to violate her. I was frightened of anybody's ability to take either of these two monsters, but Sara's face, body, and movements only reflected her lust, her desire to feel these great tools inside her. The other men had gathered around her, fondling her, running their hands over her body, fingers penetrating her. One man bent her over as she stood in front of the two giants, and she reached out and grasped one in each hand, her fingers not even close to encircling them. The man behind her, pushing her over, slid his cock into her dripping pussy, and she didn't even notice. She brought both of these cocks to her face, rubbing herself against them, mashing them into her face, rubbing herself back and forth against them, burying herself between them. Her face was being jerked and scraped against the two dicks as the man behind her pumped into her cunt. Another man lay down between her legs as the guy entering her from the rear withdrew, his cock shiny and dripping with her juices. She was pressed to her knees, straddling the man stretched out, lowering herself onto his stiff cock, the one that had been fucking her dropping to his knees behind her, entering her anus. She still seemed to be unaware that she was now being fucked in both holes, she could only bury her face in the great dicks she couldn't release, rubbing herself uncontrollably against them. She would try and take one in her mouth occasionally, but they were too wide to fit inside. The best she could do was to flick her tongue against the heads. The two men fucking her came without her realizing it, their cum dripping from her after they withdrew, drops of thick white cum mixing with her thinner juices. They were replaced by the other two men taking up the same positions. The two that had just cum stood next to her and forced her face away from the two giant cocks, cleaning themselves inside her mouth. As she cleaned them, she held tight to her two treasures, hugging them and massaging her boobs with them. Sucking voraciously on the two spent cocks, she made soft mewing sounds as her arousal spiraled upwards. Clearly, she viewed the four average cocks as mere playthings, something to be tolerated until the real thing was ready. I watched as she was bucked by the two driving cocks in her, oblivious to their penetrations, centered once again on the two monsters that were her existence. She had dismissed the two she had been cleaning as a pair of trifles only to be tolerated as she drew the other two close to her. One was draped over her shoulder as she held the other in both hands, rubbing it over her face, tonguing it and trying to mouth it until her saliva was dripping off the head. She was barely able to wait now, her need more insistent, wanting to feel one of the giant cocks penetrating inside, nosing her insides apart as it split her. She was returning the thrusting of the two cocks in her, anxious to get them off, to be rid of them so she could start to feed her craving for being massively penetrated. She urged the two men on until they spent in her. She jerked herself off them, trying to push their wet bodies away so she could have her way. The two remaining men picked her up and laid her down on a narrow padded bench, my eyes swiveling to watch her. Her wide-spread legs were facing me, her dripping pussy winking at me. I was enthralled by this scene, to see this person I regarded as my woman being taken by others, my only concern was my inability to participate. Sara was begging greedily to be fucked. She reached out and grabbed the 14-inch cock, thicker now that it was fully erect, unbelievably jutting almost straight out from his crotch. She pulled him over as he straddled the bench, guiding him to her wet vagina. It was a highly erotic site, yet strange also, I knew this cock was there, I could see it, but it was so enormous, so otherworldly that it was difficult to accept. Its massive head covered virtually her entire pussy, even her previously splayed lips were hidden. It was weird to see how far he stood above the bench, yet his cock easily spanned the distance down to her pussy. I could see her fingers grabbing at the cock, the fingernails rimmed in white by the intensity of her grip, so frantic was she in getting it inside herself. Sara was goading him on through clenched teeth, wanting him to fuck her, to force himself inside. He succumbed to her demands, pushing himself forward and down. Incredibly, I could see even this thick of a cock bending slightly at the resistance of her vagina. She tried moving it around her opening, searching for the right angle, growling at him to push it in. Suddenly, she stopped, and I could see that she began to spread open before him. He hadn't actually started to penetrate her, he was just pushing her slick outer lips inside her, but it was some sort of progress. He kept pushing against her as she held her breath...her pussy lips popped out around the head that bulldozed into her...parting her...forcing its way in. We all froze watching its progress, the only motion that of the black-haired man as he pressed on. The head was in. I could see her lips stretched around it, gripping it tightly, whitened in tension, too tight to let her juice or the sperm of the others out. Sara was the first to regain her breath, the rest of us just watching. She began to moan, building in volume and frequency until her sounds were more a continuous grunt. When her orgasm hit, she was scrabbling at her breasts, pulling on her nipples, stretching them in her lust, her legs jerking in response to her contractions, moaning in release. You could almost feel her cunt fluttering, but anything visual was hidden by the continued inward thrust of that enormous cock. She probably had at least half of the cock in her, and my view was blocked at this point, but I could see the movement of the guy as he slowly pressed on. He just ignored Sara's orgasm, and she was unable to relax after it subsided, consumed by his advance, opened wider than she had ever been. Her legs were making kicking, reaching out motions as she humped against him, trying to work him in deeper. She was taking a cunt-splitting cock, and she wanted more, unable to get it in fast enough. He was now two-thirds of the way in and began to pump it in and out instead of just pushing it in. Sara was humping faster now, breathing hard, then stopping, frozen, only to begin again. I could see the side of her face, twisted in lust, shocked at the depths he was reaching, at the width of his cock, grimacing as he battered her inside, but above all, excitement was written across her face. I can't tell you where the cock was going, I couldn't ask her, all I know was that he was buried all the way inside her. Her pussy was loosening a little, now making sounds as he plunged in and out, allowing little spurts of her juice to come out. He was taking long, hard strokes, crashing against her clit every time he bottomed out. She was building towards another orgasm, trying to sit up and forward, desperately trying to see what she could feel. Trying to believe that she was accommodating that cock. Her hands were trying to grab his hips and pull him deeper and harder, screaming at him over and over to fuck her harder...to FUCK ME...FUCK ME...she came again, rocking and shaking, his fucking frantic now as he plowed through her orgasm, uncaring about her, only wanting to get off himself. He came with a roar, his ass cheeks flexing time and again, pumping his huge load deeply inside her, grunting with each shot. As he finished, he jerked his three-inch thick cock out of her. Momentarily, her pussy gaped open the width of his cock, then opened and closed with each pulse of her still-spasming cunt, ejecting a river of their mixed spending. The man with the other huge cock leapt to take his place. He had been running his hands up and down its length, bringing it to full erection. It was massively hard, nearly two feet long, but even with a diameter of over four inches at the base, it was not stout enough to stay upright by itself. It sprouted out from his belly almost horizontally, then began a long downward arc until the head was pointing down nearly vertically. Sara grabbed it as he stepped over her. You could truly see the size as she held the base, the head extending to her shoulder. It appeared that he was getting into the same position as the previous guy, but instead, two men picked her up off the bench, and he laid down. For a moment, his cock flopped free before he scooped it up; it almost reached over his thigh to touch the floor. Then he held it vertical while the others suspended her over the head. It was an awesome sight to see her legs dangling, her ankles alongside his body, the head of his cock just entering her vagina. She was facing me, held by her upper arms, her head bowed, trying to see his cock. They lowered her down as she easily gobbled up the first ten inches or so, approaching the thickness and depth of the other cock. Her legs started to twitch, her head jerking up as the penetration became serious, her feet still not touching the floor. There was little she could do as her descent continued. She was gasping, the discomfort evident in her face as a foot of cock was inside, the head pressing against her cervix. I could tell his cock was bowing out by the bulge in her belly shifting as it moved inside her, bending, unable to pass into her uterus. Another inch in, strain on her face, her stomach pushed out when her cervix yielded to the pressure. Sara gasped more loudly, then slid into a long moan as his cock rushed up deep inside her.Her toes were finally able to touch the floor, then she was able to sink her feet down, planted firmly, all but six inches inside her. They released her as she took her weight, watching to see what she would do. She did not disappoint them, or me, or herself. Groaning, her face a mask of lust and effort, she tentatively sank down further, just a little, a small experiment, testing her reactions. She then lifted up, then back down, faster, advancing just slightly each time she went down. Her arms went out for balance, her legs shaky. She tried to lean forward to brace herself against his lower legs, but she was filled too deeply. I watched her breasts swinging forward and back with her movements, the concentration on her face, straightening up, realizing that she would have to support herself on her wobbly legs. Taking a deep breath, resolving to get the remaining inches of that huge cock inside her, she braced herself, ready to start back down. It wasn't just the depth that was the problem, she was being stretched further than she had previously. I couldn't see everything, but I could see her pussy stretched open to an unbelievable extent, her outer lips mashed tightly against her thighs, her clit hard, shining, reflecting her lust. Her legs visibly trembling with the strain, her entire body shaking with excitement, she gathered herself for the final push when her legs gave out. Her body dropped heavily on top of him as her eyes popped open in shock, her breath forced out of her. She tried to raise up, but one of the men held her down, keeping two feet of cock buried deep inside, her pussy stretched around four and a half inches of thick cock, 14 inches in circumference. I visually tried to imagine how big around that was and couldn't, I could only imagine how difficult it was for her to take it. Just the thought of two feet of cock inside of her was amazing, almost as amazing as the look of wanton lust on her face as she squirmed to adjust to the fullness inside. She began to rock her hips in an attempt to grind her clit against his leg, but couldn't move that far. Lifting herself against the man holding her, she was able to start sliding up and down, fucking herself on his cock, moaning, her hands braced against her thighs, her boobs flying. The man had his hands around her waist, helping her to bounce up and down, his hard short breaths beginning to drown out Sara's moans. Some of the men grabbed her when her orgasm hit, preventing her from collapsing. I swear I could see her stomach expanding from the volume of sperm pumped inside her. There was no mistaking, though, the clasping of her pussy as it spasmed around the base of his cock. They began to haul her off him before she had finished cumming, his cock sliding out of her in a long continuous motion that seemed to go on forever. The load inside her was flowing out even before the last six inches of cock dropped out. I was only able to get a quick glimpse of her gaping cunt before she was pulled aside, the man rolled off the bench and the big black-haired man with the 14-inch cock laid down. His dick was hard, the purple head full of blood, waiting to victimize her again. Without giving her time to recover, she was set down on his cock, easily taking it. He reached up to pull her down to him, his tongue searching for her mouth, forcing it inside. I seemed to sense that I was beginning to have some control of my body, I wasn't sure yet, just a distant feeling. I concentrated on trying to move, and after a few minutes realized that I was gaining some control. The drug was wearing off, I was able to struggle to my feet. No one paid any attention to me as I took a few faltering steps, all attention focused on Sara and the fucking she was about to receive. Sara was rolling her hips on the stomach of the man she was impaled on, getting all of his cock in her, rubbing her clit against the base of his cock. She had been in the throes of an orgasm a moment before and already she was trying for another one. The man with the two-foot cock approached her from behind, his dick seemingly unaffected by his recent cum, still a monstrous red pole arcing out from his body, anchored between his legs by that huge girth, tapering to an almost normal-sized head. He held his cock in both hands, advancing towards her as if he were holding a battering ram prior to smashing in a locked door. Juices still draining out of Sara, flowing between the legs of the man she was riding, dripping onto the floor as it flowed out over the bench. I had moved up to watch the two of them fuck when her head snapped up in shock as the second massive cock was forced into her stretched pussy. She paused there, stunned for a brief moment, her mind trying to understand what her body was experiencing. Then her sexual craving took over. She uttered a low moan before collapsing onto the man below her, rubbing her tits into his chest, squirming against him, trying for all the sensual feelings she could accept. I could see the movements of the man straddling the bench as he tried to work deeper into her. The effort he was making was plainly evident by the strain on his features. He was advancing into her, but not without seriously pushing against her stretched pussy. I tottered back to watch, the control of my movements growing rapidly. I was amazed to see that he was a good eight inches inside her, her vagina had to be stretched out close to six inches, yet she was rocking back and forth, fucking herself on those two massive cocks, her movements growing more violent as she rammed them into her cunt. The guy on top was now just putting pressure on her, letting her movements stroke his cock as he fed it into her. I watched in disbelief as he advanced into her, bending his knees, sinking closer to her as his penetration continued. I couldn't see Sara's face to read her expression, but judging from her moaning and breathing, she was incredibly turned on. She had over two feet of cock in her, the man on top had to be entering her womb by now, and her movements were growing more frantic. I could hear her grunt between her moans, reacting every time she rammed herself down. He was now buried inside her to all but the last six inches. Sara was now pumping harder than ever. She was supporting herself on her outstretched arms, her boobs flapping, her head bent back exposing her stretched neck, one of the other watchers feeding his cock to her, her mouth buried in his pubic hair. He was fucking her mouth in sync with her rocking on the two cocks inside her. I now had full control, feeling no after-effects of whatever had paralyzed me, and stripped my clothes off, finally able to stroke my own cock. The cock in Sara's mouth began to spurt, and as he came, he pulled out of her, spraying her face. She lowered her head and began to force herself even harder on the two cocks. Her pussy stretched obscenely, wrapped tightly around them, her anus pushed up close to her back, her body desperately trying to accommodate the two gigantic cocks. The second cock was buried as deeply as it could go, and the men were holding on as she rode them violently, her breath coming quicker, in short sharp gasps as she neared another orgasm. I reached under to massage her belly, feeling the fullness in her, the two cocks apparent to my touch through her flesh as they slid back and forth under my hand. Her head was pulled back by her hair as another cock was thrust into her mouth, the cum on her face smeared across her features as the man mouth-fucking her pressed her head against him. She was once again racked by an orgasm as the three cocks pummeled her. Her body was being tossed in all directions as they fucked, ignoring her convulsions, uncaring that she was riding the crest of an orgasm, unmindful that she could barely breathe around the cock in her throat. I could feel the waves of ecstasy rolling across her stomach, traveling down the huge cocks buried in her as she came. She continued to throw herself down even as she came, lost in her frenzy. All she knew was to try and open herself more, to have her body stretched beyond human possibilities, to feel her guts churning, her organs battered internally by the invading cocks. The man in her mouth came, shooting down her throat, denying her the taste of his spending. The cocks inside her shot almost simultaneously, filling her with vast quantities, her belly expanding under my hand with the volume of cum. I could no longer feel the huge bulge created by the massive intrusions as more and more cum was pumped into her belly. Where once her stomach had been above the man under her as she supported herself with her arms, it now pressed hard against him as she swelled. Her muscles were slack, weakened from her own massive orgasms, she draped over the man under her, tossed around as they shook through their releases. As she bounced around, I could see her swollen belly squeezed out the sides when she would slam down. The man on top withdrew, his cock making that long journey from inside her, his great cock flagging this time, reflecting the efforts of his second rapid orgasm as it hung straight down, flopping between his legs, extending well below his knees. Sara was pulled off the other man, two men lifting her up until she was held spread-eagled, her back parallel to the floor. I could see up inside her vagina, a gaping hole with a torrent of sperm pouring out of her. As the flow began to subside, the opening into her womb was exposed, stretched open, a trickle of cum emptying out of her uterus, flowing through her vagina and out the massive hole. It was like looking into a river-carved cave, complete with its own small waterfall where the cum passed through her cervix to drop down into her vagina.Sara dangled from their arms, limp and exhausted, her pussy deformed from the seven-plus-inch oval hole made by the two cocks. Her cunt muscles were too stretched and tired to close. I wanted to stick my head up her, to drink in her flowing juices. Her vaginal walls pulsed with the remainder of her orgasm, glistening and red from the heat burning inside. It was a different entity, apart from her, an organ that seemed to exist for itself, a gaping hole that needed constant filling. One of the men had laid on the bench, one leg draped over the side, the other upright, his heel tight against his butt. He motioned for the two men holding Sara to set her on his knee. They turned her upright, letting her legs dangle, and carried her into position, setting her on the upturned knee. She needed to be supported, unable to react, unaware of what was being done to her. As she was set on the knee, her vaginal lips spread around it, her dangling legs forced apart by the man's leg. As her weight was taken onto the knee, the two men gripped her just tight enough to keep her from toppling over. My eyes saw, but did not believe, as she started to slide down over the man's knee, his thigh and shin beginning to enter her. Her pussy opened, blossoming into life with this new treat, welcoming the challenge. Her legs, limp and hanging, were being spread wide, as was her pussy. Seeing her legs forced farther apart gave greater evidence to the extent she was being stretched. He had penetrated her probably three inches when her descent slowed, then stopped. Her eyes opened, she became aware of her surroundings, her body reacted to the intrusion, and she began to moan. It took me a minute to realize that she was saying "no" in long, drawn-out breaths. Apparently, she had had enough, but the men working her over had not. Taking a tighter hold on her, they began to work her up and down, incrementally gaining a little penetration each time they dropped her back down. Her pussy lips, rolling in and out as they stretched over his leg, were tight as steel bands. I would have thought she had been stretched enough before to take even this, but when I wrapped my hands around my own doubled-up leg, my fingers not coming close to meeting, I realized how awesome this was. Surely she couldn't take anymore. Over and over they jacked her, four inches deep...approaching five inches...now over five inches...her vaginal ring stretching, her pussy lips spreading, stretching, her cunt splayed over his knee, engulfing his legs. Her moans of protest were now moans of encouragement, deep-seated utterances from the pit of her soul, proof of the depths of her lust. She had to burst open, nobody could take this, but instead her vagina kept spreading. Over six inches inside her, now seven inches, now eight inches, and on she sank. Was this accepting something 12 inches wide? Was she taking a huge dildo made of a human leg over a yard in circumference? I was watching it, but my mind couldn't accept it. A slightly louder grunt from her when he held his rigid cock against his thigh, and her dimensionless pussy absorbed that. It was not a big cock, but surely any additional width had to have an effect. Her clit was about to be dragged inside her pussy, her anus was being sucked in, her cunt a huge vacuum. This unreal scene took on one more staggering dimension when I watched her asshole disappear inside of her. It just sort of rolled under itself as more of her body was dragged in. His knee was visible in the bulge that crept up her abdominal walls, distorting her body even further. As her clit was sucked inside her, now scraping against his leg, she exploded in orgasm, her head back, her cheeks hollowed as she sucked in air then expelled it, lost in her erotic bliss. Her juice was pouring from her cunt through any escape path, lubricating her descent, flooding across the bench to puddle across the floor. The spasming pussy, the alternately contracting and relaxing vaginal muscles, aided her acceptance of his leg, and her rate of descent increased. She continued to slide down while she climaxed. She was firmly impaled on his leg, and long ago any support from the men was unneeded, and her body swayed slightly in a circle as she slid down. We watched her, unbelieving, as she continued down, her breathing coming in shallow gulps, her lungs compressed by the mass inside her. She could not stop climaxing, the stimulation too intense, the waves of ecstasy visible even in her limp thighs as her flesh rolled with the erotic surges passing through her body. She had been penetrated a foot deep, and even her continuous orgasm didn't ease her descent now, not enough to make up for the increasing width she was taking. Her progress slowed, but not stopped. We were all masturbating as we watched, occasionally shooting our loads onto her, never ceasing our pumping. She was approaching bottom, only a few more inches to go. The distance between the top of her cunt and the bottom was well over a foot. She should have been ripped in half. I was unsure if she was conscious at this point, but it didn't matter to her body, her orgasm unceasing, must have gone on for twenty minutes. I saw her eyes flicker open briefly, and I gazed at her soul, the meaning of her life clearly visible. She was conscious, conscious of her incredible feat, conscious that this was what her life was about. Her life was the opening of her vagina until all things filled her, stretched her open. Until she sucked in her surrounding environment. Her ass cheeks were literally smaller now as they were being drawn inside, her once thick bush was now a small fringe of pubic hair peeping outside of her vagina, most of her bush was now part of her cunt. Finally, the remnants of her buttocks came to rest on his hip, she was done, having taken as much as she could, a great portion of her body sucked inside herself, leaving a vast open hole crammed with human flesh. She sat there, her arms wrapped around herself, embracing the doubled-up leg inside her body, finished, motionless except for the waves of her orgasm washing over her. Then her legs stirred, stiffened, as she tried to lift herself up. Long, soulful groans, deep visceral moans emanating, she rose, higher, then faster. Her ass cheeks came back into view, her anus unrolling back outside, her pubic hair reappearing, a foot of his leg exposed. Then she dropped back down. Back up again, faster this time, then down. She was fucking herself on his leg. It wasn't possible, but she was doing it. Her insatiable cravings driving her on. I couldn't remember when she wasn't in orgasm, what did she want? What was driving her on? She wanted more. The expressions on her face alternated between ecstasy and anguish, reflecting her struggle between accepting the stretching she was undergoing and satisfying her lust. It was awesome, watching the parts of her body sucked inside her on the downstroke, unfolding from within her on the upstrokes. Over and over she fucked herself. She was right, there was more. I can't say she exploded in orgasm as she had never stopped cumming, but she certainly advanced to a higher level. I found out later for myself what she experienced, but at this time I couldn't comprehend it. I just know that she went somewhere I had never experienced. She seemed to grow larger, the energy created by her new climax could be felt, it seemed as if cum would burst from her entire body. She had stopped her fucking motions, frozen in position, rooted by the leg inside her...and just climaxed...endlessly. We watched her, stroking our cocks, covering her with thicker layers of our sperm while her body experienced the uninterrupted succession of orgasms. I think most of the men came on her an additional two or three times as she hung there anchored on his leg, absorbing her energy, just staring at her, unable to accept it. I stood there absolutely stupefied, as we all did. I should have been drained, physically and mentally, from what had just happened, but in fact, I don't think I had ever been more excited. Sara was lying there, covered in cum, a serene expression on her face. I just stared at her, still gently stroking my rigid cock, thinking it is my turn now, or rather it had better be because I am going to explode without further release. I couldn't get the image of Sara sliding down that guy's leg, the way she was stretched and opened up, the way she awoke to new sexual heights until complete penetration was the only thing that could satisfy her. I don't know how she was able to accommodate so much, but I will never forget the sight of her riding herself up and down on his leg, how her body seemed to be drawn inside herself, the way her legs shook with her excitement and effort, the way her arms wrapped around her stomach encompassing the great bulge of her stretched abdomen and the clearly exalted expression on her face. I would have been concerned for her well-being, but the obvious expression of satisfaction on her face was proof of her contentment. I turned as three naked women entered the room who had been viewing the show unseen. Apparently, it was their turn for some fun, and I was to be their participant. If they had any doubts as to my willingness, I quickly put them to rest. I was surrounded by the ladies and was immediately engulfed by breasts and bellies, arms and legs, and all sorts of female apparatus. I was more than ready, well beyond the stage of foreplay, but my eager grasping were restrained, and I was led out of the room to a large bathroom, almost a locker room. I was placed under a warm shower and soaped down. I couldn't blame them, as I had worked up quite a lather during Sara's display. It was an incredibly sensuous feeling to have those soapy hands roaming my body, and I just stood there luxuriating in the sensations.The feeling was kicked up a notch when I felt a smooth object inserted into my ass. There was no need to inquire as to the reason, as almost immediately, warm water started to flow into me. Faster than I would have thought possible, I felt my abdomen swell with the influx of water. After I judged myself to be more than adequately cleaned out, I was led back into the playroom. I laid down on a wide padded bench as two of the women knelt next to me and began to stroke me in a most sensuous fashion. Laying there relaxed, yet stimulated, letting the movements of their hands bring me once again to rigidity, their mouths joining their exploring fingers, stroking my cock, a ball, then the second, entering a mouth, my breathing coming quicker. Warm wet lips descended on my cock as I felt my head penetrating, the glans sliding over her tongue and entering the throat. My hips started a slow rhythmic rocking as I fucked into her mouth, her breathing loud as she drew breaths through her nose, bypassing her filled mouth. Erect nipples capping dangling breasts were drawn over my chest as one woman brought her lips to mine, insinuating her tongue into my mouth. I sucked it in deeper, feeling it swirl inside, exploring me. I pressed hard against her lips, forcing her in as deeply as she could get. I reveled in the feeling as a cool ointment was spread across my anus, her fingers pausing, pressing lightly against my asshole. I tensed, my hips still, waiting. Was she? Was she going to go in? Oh God...she went in, three fingers sliding inside, tentatively then with a sudden plunge she buried them to the full depth. My anus tightened around her fingers, my balls drew up tighter, suddenly we were at a new, higher level. Her fingers wiggled and scissored inside me, pressing against the walls of my rectum. I released my breath as she withdrew to caress the opening leading inside. Her fingers circled my ass, teasing, probing, letting the suspense build. The woman sucking on my cock swallowed as she ingested my pre-cum. I was waiting again, feeling the tension, hoping that was not all, that she would enter me again. Four fingers plunged in this time in one quick entrance, opening me wider and penetrating more deeply. Then quickly in and out, working her fingers and my ass, rapidly forcing me wider with each thrust. She pulled out and without pausing plunged her entire hand inside me. I lurched in response, tightening further, still not breathing, my stomach fluttering with excitement. She pumped into me repeatedly, my anus expanding momentarily as her knuckles passed through then tightening as her wrist entered me. One more withdrawal and she quickly curled her hand into a fist and shoved against me. This time she had to fight the resistance of my anal ring as I felt myself trying to spread to accept her. She pushed harder, straight in, not twisting, not working it, just a straight-ahead push that left me no room for escape. My anus was being pushed into me until finally I felt myself start to spread open, a slight yield to the inexorable pressure. My anal ring was riding up and over her fist, yielding and expanding as she entered me. I willed myself to relax, not sure if I would be able to take the bulk of her fist when my outer sphincter gave way and I swallowed it. Without pause, she withdrew then plunged back in, over and over in short quick strokes. My anal opening was vibrating with her thrusting, my anal lips riding up and down over her fist. Then she stopped inside me, her fingers opening, probing for greater depth, searching for the second, deeper sphincter that would allow her to go deep. I became aware that there was no motion, no action around us as my eyes roamed across the audience witnessing my penetration. Momentarily I lost concentration, then as her fingers probed the end of my rectum, I returned to focus on the thrill of her deep penetration. Her exploring fingers found the opening into my colon and began to worm their way deeper, spreading my flexure as her fingertips passed through. I could feel her penetrating more deeply as well as feeling her forearm beginning to enter well past the wrist. A bulge began to show on my abdomen on the left side, proof of the deepness of her invasion. The growing bulge vanished as she pulled back outside my colon only to ball her hand back into a fist and plunge deep again. As her fist bulled its way past the sphincter, I moaned explosively through clenched teeth at the eroticism of a fist sliding deep inside me. She had worked her way inside far enough so her wrist was past that inner constriction, the bump of her fist pushing out my flesh some way past my navel. I was grunting in lust to such an extent that for a minute I was not conscious of additional fingers snaking their way through my anus. I caught my breath as I digested this new stimulation, my ass stretched around her forearm as the opening increased rapidly with the introduction of four more fingers. Involuntarily I began to pant, wanting to be spread more, beginning to understand Sara's ability to take more and respond to it. I don't know what I was doing externally, but internally my mind was expanding as fast as my anus. I lay there mentally digesting the fact that one hand and half a forearm was buried inside me and a second hand was creeping inside with the first. I knew my breathing was coming short and fast and that my toes were curling and I was tense with excitement, but all I could really feel was the slow progression of a second hand and the spreading that was taking place. I didn't even realize that it was a different woman that was inserting the second hand, all I knew was that I was being opened like never before. A longer whoosh of expelled air and a slight reduction in pressure as my anal ring encircled the wrist, briefly though as the second forearm started to enter me. My inner sphincter was now being assaulted and stretched, spreading around the entrance of another hand. OhhhhGgggooooddd it was passing through, two hands in my colon. My cock was attempting to respond, shaking in the hand of some woman, little spurts of pre-cum ejecting as knuckles or wrists buffeted my prostate forming pools of cum on my belly that rolled off my skin as the bulge of the hands lifted my abdomen up. My anus felt as if it were gaping open, visible to all that wanted to look up inside me. My knees were drawn up further exposing me to the gaze of others. I was pleased to see Sara sitting next to me, stroking me with her hand. One hand started to advance again, the taut skin of my belly separating into two distinct bulges, one moving higher then turning to the right as it sank deeper into my colon. My anal ring stretched to a greater width and I didn't realize at first that an elbow was entering me. My anus yawned open, pausing as it reached around the elbow and forearm to finally gulp it in. My body was literally tingling with the eroticism of the penetrations and I was moaning continuously, gulping in air between moans. The women were alternating pushing into me so that it looked as if some giant inchworm was crawling inside me as their fists joined then separated. I couldn't believe how open and exposed I felt, how erotic the sensations were, the disbelief that two people were deep inside me. Sara was now working my cock, licking and sucking it as she pumped it with her hand. The third hand that was pressed against my anal opening was her other hand. I knew I wouldn't be able to take it, but liked the idea of it, particularly that it was Sara's. When she was able to work a couple fingers inside, my guts seem to melt even further, churning with the unreal erotic charge. I began to hump against the arms already lodged inside me and against her advancing fingers. She lowered her mouth to inhale my cock as she slid her free hand over my abdomen to feel the two fists moving inside me. I was having difficulty in mentally accepting the amount buried inside me, one arm in past the elbow, another with the elbow just about to enter my rectum and now a third sliding in. I can't describe how open I felt as I braced my feet against the pressure of the entry, my knees as widely spread as possible, my anus spread and open to view. It was so erotic to be this open. As tightly as I was packed, I still felt loose, as if anything inside me could just fall out. I couldn't imagine where my stomach and other organs had been shoved. Sara now had her flat hand inside and the other two women were shifting positions to be able to get in further. They pushed on, biceps stretching me out, a massive bulge appearing on the left edge of my torso like a buried comet with a trail comprised of a ridge formed by the two arms attached to the fist bulge. I was heaving my hips up and down, working to get them in deeper, not ready at this stage to accept any limits, only wanting more and more. I was too stretched to offer any resistance against their advances, too widely stretched to be able to clamp down with my anus. I was open...a pit to bury their arms in, open to any invasion they wanted to make, and I loved it. The continued stimulation of my prostate promoted a steady stream of pre-cum, which Sara sucked down as it was discharged. I mashed my crotch against her face, trying to bury my cock down her throat. The other women held still as Sara worked deeper into me, her hand sliding through my inner sphincter, scraping along their forearms, the unbelievable spreading as her elbow entered me, pressing against their biceps. I watched transfixed as I viewed the advance of her hand, waiting for the magic moment when her hand joined with theirs. My ass cheeks were flattened as they spread away from each other, my insides were quivering in lust, my legs were shaking from lust, I was no longer in control of myself, my body could only react to my excitement.I lay there shaking, mentally visualizing as well as feeling her arm reaching farther inside me. Then she reached the other two hands, three biceps gripped tightly by my anal ring and outer sphincter as the women joined hands into one great fist. A huge ridge ran up from my crotch, across my belly, and started back down towards my crotch. My lust was so great that I kept hunching myself against the three arms, but not willfully. I was in too much of a sexual fog to do this consciously; it was just a physical reaction to the incredible stimulation. Three women with their arms buried almost to the shoulder were penetrating inside my body. They began to try and fuck me in unison, but were too tightly wedged to make much movement. Mostly, I slid back and forth on the bench. Gradually, as I loosened slightly, they were able to make longer thrusts. I lay there limply, letting the sensations of their thrusting arms carry me to greater heights of erotic lust. At times, I felt as if I were only a gigantic hole designed to receive their thrusts, but I couldn't deny the movement of my organs as they were jostled around by the fucking of their arms, or the lustful shaking of my limbs as they quivered in response to my excitement. Their strokes grew longer as my asshole was first pulled out from my body, then shoved back inside with their inward strokes. I knew I was moving to higher and higher erotic levels as they fucked me, but it wasn't until I noticed Sara's lips moving against me, her face buried against my pubic hair as she sucked on my cock, that I was cumming directly into her mouth. The magnificent stimulation of my anus had focused me solely on their thrusting; my orgasm had become an incidental reaction to that intense stimulation. I lay there as my body was buffeted by their long, deep strokes, unwilling to react and thrust against them, content to be the opening that they were fucking. As their strokes lengthened to 18 inches, my unresisting body began to be lifted off the bench only to be slammed back down on the in-strokes. Sara was no longer able to suck me as they forced against me, although I continued to spew streams of cum in response. Finally, after one massive thrust, they jerked their arms from inside me, and I collapsed back down on the bench, my anus gaping and open, my cock pumping cum, my body limp and yielding. One of the women buried her face against my anus as my stretched asshole covered her entire face. She then slid up and took me into her mouth, drinking down the final spurts of cum. The women then knelt alongside the bench, resting their elbows against each other, their fingers intertwined and wrapping around to form one great exposed fist. I had not been able to fathom how Sara had taken so much earlier, but now it was clear. It simply couldn't be resisted. I staggered to my feet, uncontrollably attracted to that huge mass of hands and arms, knowing I had to take it inside me. I centered my body over it and lowered myself down. I made contact with it and began to squirm atop it, looking for the right angle of entrance. It felt like I was sitting on a barstool. I felt my anus begin to open, my anal ring spreading and stretching over it. In an agony of sexual drive, I lowered myself further, continuing to spread, not believing how far I was stretched. I reached down to feel how much had penetrated and couldn't believe that I still had a ways to go before my ass would envelop the massive fist and it would be inside me. Further I stretched, any pain sublimated by my arousal and need. I opened more, stretched a little more, then...OH MY GOD, it was in, and my anus closed around the relatively smaller thickness of their wrists. Now I could sink down faster. A slight pause and adjustment, and they were inside my colon, my anus spreading open again as the three forearms entered me. I sunk down until my ass was resting on their biceps. I lifted off them, then back down again, fucking myself on this huge cock. Faster I went, and this was the most erotic feeling of all. There was no way that I could orgasm, and yet I felt the shivers leading to an explosion coursing through my body. As I forced myself faster and harder on the combined fists, my cock began to shoot long, thick streams of cum with each downstroke, my balls painfully contracting and shooting. Over and over I came, up and down relentlessly, as a huge pool of cum formed on the bench to flow out and run on to the floor. I was beyond anything now; I could only compulsively force myself up and down, never wanting this unearthly stimulation to stop. I began to intensify the feelings even more by pulling all the way off and then slamming back down again. My asshole gaping open momentarily, then mushrooming around their combined fist, engulfing it. Fucking myself with as long of strokes as possible. My ass opened repeatedly, compulsively spreading myself, reveling in the rough stretching every time I swallowed that knuckled fist. I was near hyperventilating in my excitement, emitting short explosive grunts as I fucked myself. My body was flying, my quaking legs barely able to support my weight, ready to give way as I jerked myself off their fists. Suddenly, Sara took her other hand and wrapped it around the other three. As I forced myself down, I couldn't take. The looseness I had felt earlier, despite being filled, was now gone. Realizing that no matter how much I wanted it, there were limits. Yet my anus expanded to new dimensions, stretching, stretching, as I bore down harder, unmindful of any consequences. My feet were coming off the floor, my entire weight supported on my reluctantly yielding ass. Mentally, I was lost; I had to have this in me, but I couldn't accept that it was possible. Physically, I was making infinitesimally small progress. Ever so slowly, I spread, my entire being waiting, feeling myself open to an impossible width. My ass cheeks pushed widely apart, separating my body, my gaping anus yawning in desperation. Then I stopped, unable to stretch out any more. I bounced on their fists, rocking my ass against them, straining to open, but it was no use. I could not work my desperate anal ring over that bulk. The two women grabbed my arms and pulled down, trying to use their weight to spread me further. I felt a slight give, my sphincter stretching just a bit, and somehow I began to open up again. In agony, I opened further, my whole body seeming to expand as if some massive tree was being forced inside me. My pelvis was forced open, stretching around them, yielding excruciatingly to my desire. They hauled harder on my body, trying to will me open further as they pulled me against their fists. Sara was begging me to accept it, to force myself down onto her arms, opening as never done before. Then it was inside me. With a whoosh, my body was full, and I sunk down, my abdomen a huge pregnant bulge, my cock erupting with a long continuous stream, four hands buried inside me.	null	null	Authors/duress/Sara and Me.txt
81,383	Unknown	You Might Be An Exhibitionist If	You might be an exhibitionist if: * You wear your daddy's belt as a mini dress. * Pizza Hut delivers pizzas you never ordered just to see you open the door. * Pizza is delivered by a busload of "trainees." * You only wear panties when you're out of tampons. * Your string bikini is real string. * The neighborhood boys like to play at your house, and you don't even have any children. * If you always put the gown on backwards when visiting the doctor. * You never learned how to close your blinds. * If you never have to go through the metal detector at the airport. * If you believe masturbation is a spectator sport. * If you undress for your physical in the doctor's waiting room. * You think gymnasts could do so much more if they weren't weighed down with all those clothes. * You don't pack any bags for a vacation. * You've never used a dressing room. * If you tried out your last vibrator before you bought it. * If you tried out your last cucumber before you bought it. * If you've ever used a rearview mirror to trim your pubic hair. * If you've ever had to use the drive-through because of the "No shirt, no shoes, no service" sign on the front door. * If they've ever removed the "No shirt, no shoes, no service" sign so you could go inside. * If you had to re-hem your cheerleading uniform because the skirt was too long. * If your biology project included a live demonstration of the female anatomy. * If you've ever gone skinny dipping in the wave pool at a water park. * If you've ever driven to a nudist beach dressed for the beach. * If you've ever given a shoe salesman a happy ending. * If your pants are so tight they look painted on, it's because they are. * If you dress for work after you get there. * If your raincoat is a white sundress. * If you wear a painted-on swimsuit to the beach and use water-based paint that washes off when wet. * If your senior yearbook picture was published in Playboy. * If an elevator is simply a changing room that moves. * If you removed the vanity shield in front of your desk. * If you believe the winner of strip poker is the one that's naked first. * If you bet your clothes that the New York Yankees would win the Super Bowl. * If you've requested to be strip-searched while going through security. * You show everyone on the school bus your new clit ring. * Your skirt is short enough that you don't have to lift it to show everyone on the school bus your new clit ring. * You get your bicycle shorts from a spray can. * You wear your birthday suit all day long on your birthday. * You wear your birthday suit whenever you go to someone else's birthday party. * You wear your birthday suit even when the party is at school or work. * You get sent home for showing up to school nude on pajama day, because that's what you wear to bed. * You bought your prom dress at Victoria's Secret - in the lingerie department. * You didn't have enough in your wedding budget to buy a dress, and you didn't notice it. * You didn't have enough in your wedding budget to buy a dress, and your guests were not surprised. * You view the dress code for work or school as the maximum, not the minimum. * You consider g-strings to be granny panties. * You don't know what your cup size is because you've never owned a bra. Suggestions or comments: [email protected]	null	null	Authors/OddR/You Might Be An Exhibitionist If.txt
81,856	Take Charge Dad	Madison's Adventures 1	Yesterday I was cleaning out my dad's office and I found an old USB stick in his home safe. I ordered up an adapter and had it printed. Once I mounted the memory stick, I discovered it was encrypted. Fortunately, before my adopted father passed away, he gave me the password to his password manager file. After a bit of trial and error, I was able to unlock the USB stick with the password for a mysterious entry in the password manager that was labeled as: "TCMF". It turns out that he had written about all the things we had done together as a family after my mother moved out west with Ricky, Katy, and me. Of course, back then, my dad was still just my grandfather, since he hadn't adopted me yet. Once I had become an adult, I found it easier to refer to him as Carl. What with our family tree being so unusual, the traditional relationship labels such as father, grandfather, brother, uncle, aunt, nephew, and niece could get muddied. I read the first few chapters last night, and it was an eye-opener to see things from his perspective and to also read what he thought about me back then. I also got really horny from reading his account of what happened and recalling my own memories of those days. Reading his account has also inspired me to write down my own version of the events of my unorthodox childhood. Forgive me if sometimes my tone, insights, or vocabulary are inconsistent; I'm doing my best to remember how I felt and talked at the time, but it's been many years and my memory isn't perfect, so I fill in some of the words with more adult vocabulary. I shared most of this with my grandfather at the time, but didn't always tell him everything or give him all the details. I had no real secrets from him growing up. But when I was a kid, we did have an unofficial "don't ask, don't tell" policy about what I did. He was always content to keep his expressions of love in the family. Ricky and Katy were so in love with each other that they didn't often go looking for sex with other people, although I do believe they had a few outside affairs, both together and separately, and Ricky did accompany me on several of my "adventures" as there were some things that Katy couldn't provide for him, like a hard cock up his ass. I'm sure mom was also getting some on the side occasionally, but grandfather was always risk-averse. He didn't want to take any chances and get caught having sex with someone else's kid. I can't really blame him, since a guy getting caught having sex with someone else's kid can have life-changing consequences for both the man and the kid. It is sort of what caused my mom to finally move out west and triggered all the subsequent events that my grandfather wrote about. Sure, mom told her father that we got kicked out because our landlord's wife found the photos he had taken of my twelve-year-old sister Katy. That was the truth as far as my mom knew, since that is what Mr. Jackson had told her when he kicked her out. He said that she needed to get out or they would both be going to jail, him for taking the pictures and her for letting her daughter pose nude in lieu of paying rent. I knew the real reason, but I never told anyone. The real reason was that his wife unexpectedly came home early one day and walked in on him and me; I was sucking his dick. Mr. Jackson and I had been sucking each other for a couple of years at that point. I found out later that he had also been doing it with Ricky, only he was paying Ricky. That caused a lot of conflicting emotions in me at the time. Part of me was jealous that Mr. Jackson had been 'cheating' on me with my older brother, part of me was upset that I had missed out on getting paid. We never had any money until we moved in with our grandfather, and I could have used the money just as much as Ricky. I'm not entirely sure why I didn't tell the family about what I had done with Mr. Jackson when Ricky admitted that he was having sex with the man. I guess I was still a little 'brainwashed' by Mr. Jackson at that point. He had spent two years convincing me that if I told anyone, I would be the one that would get in trouble, and that I'd be taken away from my mother, plus since I didn't have a father, I would wind up in an orphanage. It is easy to recognize the man's bullshit now, but to a little kid that was desperate for attention from anyone resembling a father figure, it was very powerful bullshit. What kind of asshole fucks with a little boy's mind like that? Thankfully though, it ultimately worked out for the best that we had to move. It caused mom to finally swallow her pride and go begging to her dad. It is kind of funny in hindsight that all three of us had done things with the landlord and never told each other about it while it was happening. We had always been close to each other since we all shared a bedroom, but still, society had taught us not to talk about sex, so we didn't, even though we were all having sex as kids. Ricky and I were supposed to share a bed, but most nights Katy would end up in bed with Ricky and I would sleep in Katy's bed. I never joined in with them because I was afraid that somehow they would know I was fooling around with Mr. Jackson, like somehow it would show on my dick. But, I would get hard and rub myself under the covers while I watched them messing around. Still, we never really talked about it with each other, although I'm sure they talked to each other about what they were doing, and they knew I watched them. Katy and I were always close, and she knew I liked boys and men instead of girls. Several years before we moved, she had caught me lying on her bed looking at one of her Tiger Beat magazines while I humped a pillow. Her only reaction was to tell me not to get my 'spooge' on the pillow. I had to ask her what that was since I was still only having dry orgasms, and she explained it was a slang term for that white stuff that shot out of Ricky's dick. The trip west was a nightmare for me. Mom was crying most of the time, and I was feeling guilty because I blamed myself for us getting kicked out, but I couldn't tell anyone about it because I still thought that government agents would instantly appear and drag me off if anyone found out. Ricky and Katy were quiet and spent most of the ride sharing a pair of earbuds, listening to Ricky's iPod, which it turns out he had bought with some of his blowjob money from Mr. Jackson. When we got to grandpa's house, he offered to let us live with him even if mom didn't stay. I knew as soon as Ricky accepted that Katy would stay too. If they were both going to stay, it was an easy choice for me to make as well. I remember Katy whispering into my ear, "Grandpa's kinda cute for an old guy. Why don't you ask him to carry your bag in for you so we can see his muscles." I did what she suggested and ogled my grandfather as he carried our bags for us. He was much more attractive than Mr. Jackson. I think I fell in love with him as soon as we moved in. I was like a puppy dog those first few days, I constantly followed him around the house, always wanting to be in the same room with him. I thought he only liked girls though, so I would play with Katy's dolls, pretending the Ken doll was my grandfather and I was the Barbie doll. I kept hoping he would get the hint when he saw me rubbing the dolls together like they were humping each other, but he would just smile at me and go back to work. I wanted to go over and suck his dick, but was too afraid. Between the things Mr. Jackson had said about the government taking me away if they found out I liked sucking dick, Ricky's occasional off-hand comments about not being a fag, and the general homophobia of our poor neighborhood in New York, I was convinced that if I told grandpa knew how I felt that he wouldn't like me anymore, so I kept quiet. Things changed the night mom was brought home by the sheriff.A couple years later, grandfather admitted to us that he had set mom up, but we didn't know it at the time. Katy and I had been asleep in our room when we heard the commotion and saw the sheriff's car out in the driveway. Katy thought it was best if we stayed in our room, which we did until we heard mom getting spanked and crying. At that point, we just had to see what was going on, so we crept out of our room and tried to peek around the edge of the hallway without being seen. Grandpa was spanking our mother and talking dirty to her. It was all very confusing to me at the time, but it was also very exciting. I've always been orally fixated, so I guess I ended up sucking on my thumb, I did that a lot when I was nervous, it calmed me down. Even to this day, I love having things in my mouth to suck on, fortunately, more often than not, those things are hard cocks instead of my own thumb. While it was a long time ago, reading Carl's account of that evening helped refresh my memory. He said I looked confused and on the verge of crying; I probably was. Part of me was afraid because he seemed so upset at my mom, and I worried that he would kick us out because of whatever she had done. Part of me also wished that I was the one bare-ass naked on his lap with his hands on me. It was a relief when he called me over and had me sit on the couch next to him. Having his arm wrapped around me made me feel safe, protected, and loved. Katy knew that I had a crush on grandpa, so I guess she took the opportunity to get the ball rolling between us. She put my hand on top of grandpa's lap and moved it up and down the length of his erection. I'm glad she did it, but I was still a bit shy because of all the crap I'd been fed about it needing to be secret and I'd get in trouble if anyone found out that I was playing with a man's dick. But part of me also knew that it felt very right to have my hand on his big dick. I loved how it felt in my hand. It was hot and hard, yet slightly squishy. It was also huge, much bigger than Mr. Jackson's and even bigger than Ricky's. Up until then, Ricky's had been the biggest cock I'd seen. It was funny to read grandpa's account of the evening, I sounded like such a little baby. I do remember that Mr. Jackson always liked me to use baby talk when we were messing around, I think it turned him on to pretend he was having sex with an even younger boy. So, I guess it was just habit for me to call his dick a "pee pee" like I was five instead of ten. Over the next few days as Carl started teaching Ricky and Katy about sex, I was still conflicted. They all seemed to be so excited about having boy/girl sex, and it just did nothing for me. I got all excited seeing Carl and Ricky's cocks, but at the same time, it also made me feel alone because I didn't share their desire for Sara and Katy. Don't get me wrong, I love my sister and mother, but not in the same way that Ricky and grandpa love, loved them. That feeling of being different played a big part in my meltdown when I got teased on the bus. There was a silver lining in that I think it finally made grandpa accept that I was gay and not just inexperienced, so he stopped trying to be so neutral and 'let me discover my sexuality for myself'. Instead, he finally just embraced me for who I was. It also gave him an excuse to indulge his sexual desire for boys. That weekend changed a lot of things for me. Carl agreed to be my dad, which filled a void I had always felt. He'd also let me suck his cock, which filled another void that had been empty since I had gotten caught with Mr. Jackson. Then when he fucked Ricky, I was so excited to discover there was another void inside me that up until then I hadn't known needed filling. Unfortunately, due to my own screw up, it would take longer to get that new void filled than we had planned. When I went to school on Monday, I was no longer afraid or ashamed of the feelings I had. While I knew I couldn't say anything about what my family did, or what I had done with Mr. Jackson, I felt I no longer needed to hide who I was. It helped that before we got off the school bus that morning, Ricky let the boys that had been bullying me on Friday know that if they ever did anything like that again, or even called me names, he would kick their asses. I started looking at boys and men differently, or rather more openly. Before, I would always look away and not make eye contact so they wouldn't see that I was looking at them, but now I didn't care if they caught me looking. Generally, I checked out the teachers and the high school boys. I would look at them and imagine that I was sucking on their dicks. It always made me hard to daydream about that. Looking at boys my own age didn't really do the same thing for me. Although there was one boy in my class that I really liked. His name was Jonah. He rode a skateboard to school instead of taking the bus. He had brown hair that went down to his shoulder blades. I decided after seeing him that I wanted to grow my hair out like his, mine was already down to the middle of my neck, so it didn't take too long. He had blue eyes, a cute button nose, and a wide mouth with full red lips. He had a bit of a feminine look to him, like me, but he was also masculine, playing soccer and basketball with the other boys at recess, and he always had bruises and scrapes on his elbows and knees from skateboarding. I just thought he was the coolest boy in school. I always liked to draw when I was a kid, still do actually. It was a couple of days later when it got me into trouble at school. I had spent the lunch period watching the boys playing basketball. Jonah was on the team that was 'skins', and I sat on the grass near the basketball court and drew him in my sketchbook. I wasn't paying attention to anything other than my drawing and occasionally looking up at Jonah for inspiration. While I was focused on Jonah, Susie, the girl that sat next to me in my class, snuck up behind me and looked over my shoulder to see what I was drawing. I had drawn Jonah naked and with a big cock, like Ricky's, with cum leaking out of it. Susie's family was really religious, and she wasn't any fun, so she ran and told on me to Ms. Jenkins, the teacher that was doing yard duty supervising us that day at lunch. I was trying to rip up the drawing so no one else would see it when Ms. Jenkins grabbed the pieces from my hand. One of the pieces still clearly showed a large cock with cum dripping out of it. She brought me to the office and showed the pieces of the drawing to the principal, Mr. Watkins. He asked what I had been drawing, and I confessed that I was drawing Jonah. He asked if Jonah had shown me his penis or had done anything to me. I said no. He seemed disappointed by my answer. Then he asked me where I had seen this in real life before as he held up the piece of the paper with the hard cock and cum on it. Remembering what Mr. Jackson and my grandpa had both said about not telling anyone, I said I saw it on the internet. It was sort of true, I had seen adult cocks cumming in the movies that Ricky and Katy would sometimes watch on our mom's laptop when she wasn't home. I don't know if he believed me or not, but I guess he was satisfied with the answer because he had me wait outside his office. I sat out there and cried, afraid that he somehow knew I'd been having sex with Mr. Jackson and my grandfather and that they were going to take me away and put me in an orphanage. Instead, the principal must have called my house because about a half-hour later, grandpa and my mom showed up. Grandpa looked upset, and my mom looked nervous. They went into the office, and about fifteen minutes later, the principal told me I was suspended for the rest of the day and for tomorrow as well on account of having a pornographic drawing at school. On the way home, grandpa lectured me about not making drawings like that while I was at school. He said it was fine for me to draw stuff like that at home, but that they had to stay in the house. He also let me know that the principal could tell I was lying about where I saw an adult penis, but that my mother had covered for me by explaining that I grew up sharing a room with Ricky. If it ever came up again, that is where I had seen an adult-sized erection. Also, he said that if the principal ever asked about it, I should tell him I had been told not to look at my brother while he was naked anymore. They also told me that I needed to go see the doctor and get an examination that would show that I hadn't been abused, whatever that meant. Unfortunately, until then, there would be no more playing with my ass. That, of course, made me upset, and I complained about them being unfair and punishing me over a stupid drawing. For some reason, they both laughed at me. I had hoped that Thursday would be a lot of fun, getting to spend it at home with my grandpa and mom, but instead, they made me do schoolwork and do a bunch of educational exercises on the computer. When I got on the bus to go to school on Friday, several of the kids were laughing at me and whispering to each other. Ricky glared at them, and no one did anything, but I guess word had gotten around about why I had been suspended. Susie had a big mouth, and I'm sure she blabbed to all her friends about what I had done. While before the kids had just suspected I was a gay sissy, now it had been confirmed, and I had been officially outed. In class, the teacher, Mr. Richards, didn't say anything about me being suspended, being gay, or the drawing. He just seemed to ignore it all. I was too scared of Jonah's reaction to even look in his direction. During morning recess, I went to the boy's bathroom to pee, and when I got to the urinal, I heard Jonah come into the bathroom and tell the other boys to get out of the bathroom and make sure no one came in.It was a good thing I was standing at the urinal with my dick out, otherwise I would have pissed myself when he walked over and grabbed me by the arm. Even then, I still sprayed a little bit of piss around as he yanked me and dragged me into one of the two stalls as I shoved my dick back inside my shorts. He looked angry, and I was sure I was about to get the shit beaten out of me. He was about the same height as me, but he weighed more since I was really skinny. Unlike me, he actually had some muscle. "I heard you drew a picture making fun of my dick," he said loudly as he shoved me up against the side of the stall and pinned me there with his right hand pressed against my chest. I was so scared I just babbled out an answer as I started to cry, "No, I wasn't making fun of your dick. I've never seen your dick. I'd never make fun of you, I think you're perfect." I looked down at the ground, still not able to look him in the eyes. His grip on my arm relaxed a little bit, and his hand on my chest stopped pushing against me as it traveled up to my face. I was sure he was going to pull his hand back and punch me, but instead he cupped my chin and lifted my face up, holding it there until I looked him in the eye. "Is it true what they say about you, that you're gay?" he asked. His voice wasn't angry anymore, and he didn't look mad. In fact, he was smiling at me. I couldn't muster the courage to speak, so I just nodded. "Do you want to see my dick?" he asked, almost whispering. I'm sure my eyes must have popped out of my head in surprise. "Yes," I said. He let go of me and stepped back. He leaned against the opposite metal wall and started undoing his shorts. "Have you ever sucked a dick before?" he asked. "Yes," I answered quickly, thinking he was going to ask me to suck his and wanting him to know I was eager to do it. He had his shorts unbuttoned and his fly open. I could see a small bulge in the front of his white cotton briefs. "Whose?" he asked. I'm sure a look of panic appeared on my face when he asked that question. I felt my face blush as I looked him in the eye again and answered, "I can't tell you. I promised." "If you don't tell me whose dick you sucked, I won't let you suck my cock, and I will beat you up," he threatened. I slumped back against the wall and looked down at the ground. "Fine, just do it and get it over with," I said as I closed my eyes and waited for him to beat me up. "Not now, there isn't enough time," he said as he zipped his pants back up. "Meet me here fifteen minutes after lunch starts," he said, then exited the stall and left the bathroom. A pair of boys quickly entered the bathroom, curious to see what had happened to me. I still had tears on my cheeks, and my clothes were sort of rumpled, so they figured he must have roughed me a bit but not done any serious damage. They called me a sissy and laughed at me, but otherwise left me alone. There was about an hour and a half of class between recess and lunch. It seemed like the longest hour and a half of my life, though. I would occasionally look over at Jonah, and he would smile at me. I was so confused. I wasn't paying any attention to what our teacher was trying to teach us as I debated what to do. Should I show up and let him beat me up? If I didn't show up, would it just make him mad, and he would beat me up even worse when he did catch me alone? Could I hide from him until I could get Ricky to protect me? When the bell rang for lunch, I waited until the rest of the class had left before I got up and went outside. Mom had packed me a lunch, one of the things Grandpa insisted she do for us. It was kind of nice to have my own lunch and not have to go to the cafeteria to get a free school lunch anymore. I could see the clock through the window of the classroom, and when it was time, I got up and went to the fifth-grade boy's bathroom. Jonah was standing next to the door, leaning against the wall. He smiled when he saw me. "I'm surprised you showed up. The other boys said you're a sissy and wouldn't show up," he said. I could see there were a few other boys hovering nearby, watching us. "Come here," he said. I walked over to him and stood in front of him. I couldn't help myself. There was just something about him that made me want to do what he said. I was drawn to him in the same way I was drawn to Ricky and Grandpa. Looking back, I think it was his confidence and cockiness that brought out my submissive nature. He leaned in and whispered into my ear, "You going to tell me whose dick you sucked, or am I going to have to beat you up?" There was a large part of me that wanted to tell him. I could just tell him about Ricky. Ricky probably wouldn't get in too much trouble if someone found out we had fooled around. Or I could tell him about Mr. Jackson. Maybe the police here couldn't take me away for what I did in New York. I think I had heard something about that on TV once. But I was too scared to risk it. I took a deep breath and shook my head. "I promised not to tell," was all I said. He grabbed my arm again and led me away from the bathroom towards the fields. A couple of the boys started to follow, I guess they wanted to see me get beat up. Jonah turned around and told them to fuck off. He led me to the very back edge of the field, the part furthest from the blacktop. There were not any other kids nearby. "Sit down, don't worry, I was never going to beat you up. I just wanted to make sure I could trust you. Sorry for scaring you," he said. Jonah sat down with his legs criss-crossed. He was wearing baggy shorts, and when I sat down across from him, he adjusted one leg of his shorts so I could see all the way up it to his underwear. "I'm gay too," he said. I guess I was staring at him in shock with my mouth open because he laughed and said, "Man, you really do want my cock, you're sitting there with your mouth open begging for it." I blushed and looked down. "Really? You aren't just saying that as some kind of trick?" I asked warily. "Yep, I'm gay gay gay gay gay. I've even had butt sex. Have you ever fucked or been fucked by a boy?" Jonah asked, then after a pause, whispered, "or a man?" My head shot back up in surprise. Jonah was certainly causing that reaction in me a lot today. "No, neither, but I want to try it, you know getting fucked," I said, but then after my own pause, I whispered, "by a man." We smiled at each other in understanding. "What's it like?" I asked. "It hurts at first, particularly if his dick is thick or long. If it's both, it's worse, but after you get used to it, oh god it is awesome. Like the best thing ever," he said. Just talking about this with him was making me hard, and I could see it was having the same effect on him. We both had to grab our dicks and reposition them. "UDP" he said. "What?" I asked as I gave him a confused look. He smiled his cocky little smile at me and said, "UDP, Uncomfortable Dick Position. It's when your dick gets hard and is trapped in a bad position in your underwear, and you need to move it so that it's not tenting your shorts," he said, laughing a little as he explained it. It wasn't really that funny, but I found myself laughing with him. "You're really cute, Madison. Will you be my boyfriend?" he asked. Damn, he surprised me yet again and made me get that stupid shocked look on my face. "You want me to be your boyfriend? Why? Won't people know you're gay though if you're my boyfriend?" I babbled. "Well, because you're cute, smart, and funny. Plus, unlike some other, uh, boys that I play with, you won't get in trouble for being my boyfriend, that is like a huge plus in my book. I don't give a shit if the losers at this school know I'm gay. I've just never told anyone here because there hasn't been a boy like you here before," he said. God, how I envied his confidence. I'm sure I was still blushing, and I had trouble making eye contact with him, but I steeled myself and looked him directly in the eyes and answered, "Um, okay, I guess." Damn, I felt like such a dufus. He smiled, "Hmm, well, maybe you're just cute and funny," he said, laughing. "Hey!" I protested, realizing he just implied I wasn't smart. "Kidding," he said, then he sprung forward and jumped on top of me, pushing me backwards onto the ground. We rolled around in the grass as he tried to tickle me and kiss me at the same time. Our hard dicks were rubbing against each other as we wrestled. I don't know how long we were rolling around before we were suddenly interrupted by Ms. Hooper's voice yelling at us to stop fighting and to get off of each other. Jonah got off of me and stood up. "We weren't fighting, Ms. Hooper, we were just playing around," he said. "Yeah," I said in agreement as I got up off the grass. "We'll see about that," she said, "Both of you come with me to the principal's office, now." Jonah must have been able to tell how worried I was about getting sent to the principal's office twice in one week, because he winked at me and gave me a look that let me know he wasn't worried. He started to say something, but Ms. Hooper spun around and hissed, "No talking!" at him. When she turned back around, he rolled his eyes, then made a silly face at her. When we got to the office, Ms. Hooper had me wait outside while she took Jonah into Mr. Watkins' office. After about ten minutes, she brought him out and had him sit down in one of the chairs. Then she told me to come into the office. Jonah smiled and winked at me again, then gave me the thumbs up sign. I was confused, why was he so confident that we weren't in trouble? I walked into the office and sat down in the same chair where I had sat in just two days ago. "My, my, Madison, your first day back from suspension and you got into a fight. I hope you are not planning on making a habit of this. Although I gather this time it wasn't your fault."I don't expect you wanted to get into a fight with Jonah," said Mr. Watkins. "We weren't fighting," I said, interrupting him. "Don't worry, Madison. You aren't in any trouble. One of the boys who went and got Ms. Hooper to report that you two were fighting said he heard Jonah threaten to beat you up for drawing that filthy picture of him. If you just tell us the truth that Jonah attacked you, you won't be held responsible for his misbehavior," explained Mr. Watkins. "That's not what happened. He asked me if I was making fun of his, uh, you know, and I told him I wasn't. We went out onto the field to talk and then started horsing around; we weren't fighting," I said, leaving out a lot of the details. "Madison, you don't need to lie to protect him. If you tell me that he threatened to beat you up and then attacked you out on the field, I can have him expelled. He won't be able to hurt you, and you don't need to protect him. You won't get in trouble for telling me he attacked you. In fact, for cooperating with me, I'll have your suspension erased from your permanent record," offered the principal. "He didn't attack me. You can't kick him out of school, please, sir. He didn't do anything wrong," I protested. I was on the verge of crying. "Why are you protecting him, Madison? Why don't you want him expelled?" asked the principal. "Because he's my boyfriend," I whispered as I lost the battle to keep from crying. I wasn't able to look at Mr. Watkins or Ms. Hooper because I was so ashamed that I had started crying. Jonah didn't start crying when he was in here. Everyone was right about me; I was such a sissy. I heard Mr. Watkins get up and open the door to his office. "You boys can go. Stay off the back part of the fields and no kissing," he said in a disgusted tone of voice. I got up quickly and fled his office. Jonah had a smug smile on his face, but it changed to an expression of concern when he saw me. "You okay, boyfriend?" he asked me. I nodded my head, and he took my hand and led me towards the door. "Oh, and Jonah, I will be telling your mother about this," said Mr. Watkins as we left the main office. "Yes, sir, you do that, sir," said Jonah, his words were respectful, but the tone was mocking and let us all know that he did not fear the implied threat. When we got outside the office, he started filling me in on why he knew we wouldn't get in trouble. "My mother is a teacher at the high school. She's known for a while now that I'm gay, so I don't care if he tells her. Also, last year Mr. Watkins tried to suspend me over some lame bullshit that he heard but couldn't prove, so my mother filed a complaint with the school board and won an appeal of his decision. So he knows that he can't suspend or expel me unless he can prove I actually did something wrong because my mom will say he is trying to retaliate against me for her complaints to the school board. When he talked with me, he was sure he had something on me. He tried to set it up like I attacked you for making that drawing of me, but I threw him for a loop when I said that I liked the drawing and that we were now boyfriends because of it. I figured you wouldn't tell him what we really talked about in the bathroom and that you would tell the truth about us not fighting. But I didn't expect you would also tell him we were boyfriends," he said. "Uh, well, he already knows I'm gay, and you said you didn't care if anyone knows. But it did just kind of slip out; I didn't mean to say it," I said. "Well, do you still want to be my boyfriend?" Jonah asked. I looked at him and lost myself in his cute eyes. I so wanted to wrestle around with him again, only this time naked. "Yeah, I do," I answered. The bell signaling the end of lunch rang. Jonah gave me a serious look, "Okay, we need to get back to class, but if we are going to be boyfriends, we need to trust each other, so you need to tell me whose dick it was you sucked. I will give you until Monday to decide," he said. Then he leaned in and gave me a quick kiss on the lips. Fuck. What was I going to do? I wanted Jonah to be my boyfriend, but I couldn't tell him about my family, could I?	null	"Go West"	Authors/Take_Charge_Dad/Madisons-Adventures/Madisons-Adventures-01.txt
81,981	null	Playing House: Those naughty house games...	You are 6 months pregnant now. And you have this nice little bulge that I love to touch and feel. We've bought a house on the outskirts of town with a lot of peace and quiet and settled into this peaceful sanctuary. It's a beautiful farmhouse on a 6-acre land, and our next-door neighbor is half a mile away (our safe little cocoon). You've been so stressed being the on-call nurse, and it's very pleasing for you that we've decided you will be the stay-at-home mom now. I'm glad to see you sleep in, lounge around lazily tuning into your favorite TV channels (a well-deserved break after years of work). It's Friday dinner time, and I drive back from work with the pizza you requested. Over the past couple of months, your waist has thickened and started to disappear much to my delight. We've both decided to consciously oversee your diet and make sure you eat properly. No more skipping meals from working long hours. I sit next to you on the couch, my face nuzzling into your neck. My hand rests on your baby bulge as you complain of feeling 'fat' today. "Honey, you're not fat, you're pregnant." "No, I'm fat like a cow." "Well, I think you're even more attractive when you're pregnant." "Do you mean that?" "Yes, sweetness. You being pregnant is sexy in every way. It's what it's all about, isn't it? You know, sex, babies, reproduction. It's what we're for after the worry-free bank account. And who cares what some gay fashion designer thinks what you look like. You know how I feel about you." "That feels nice though," as my hand gently circles your belly. "I'm happy to rub your bump whenever you want, even if this ends up being twins and you get as big as an elephant." I move on to massage your legs, softly tugging on your toes. "You're sweet, darling. I'm so glad that I can talk to you about anything, any insecurities, any emotional ups and downs, y'know." "I love listening to you and looking after you, sweetness." You hug me close. "I'd never do this alone, without you," you whisper. I cuddle up close to you, sitting behind you. You lean back comfortably onto me and close your eyes with my arms wrapped around you, keeping you safe. You moan softly, whispering sweet nothings. I open the box, and we take turns biting on a slice of yummy pizza...with kisses in between, our faces so close, our eyes fluttering against each other. Slice after slice, we chow it down; it's been a long, hungry day for me. You bite my neck playfully, your tongue tracing a pattern on my neck. I smile and loosen my belt, getting turned on. My pants slide off, and you reach behind with a firm hold on my cock. My fingers unclasp your bra at the back, letting your breasts plop down onto your baby bulge. I've been helping you prepare your breasts for comfortable days of nursing in a few more months..when the little mouths demand it...with regular soft massages...toughening up your nipples by sucking on them for longer periods during and after sex...rubbing soothing cream on them afterwards...with this, we hope to avoid all nipple cracking issues...and it's been a slow work in progress...your nipples seem to get less and less tender after my sucking sessions... "God, these are definitely getting bigger," you exclaim. "And yes, I can feel your cock getting restless against my back." "Mmhmm, they definitely are, honey. And that is something I wouldn't complain about," I smile. "I know you won't complain," you smirk. "I am the one who has to carry them around." "You know, I've always offered to be your bra," I smile. "And I wonder how cow-sized they're gonna get...Can I call them udders? At nine months?" I joke as you slap my hand. "And I'm glad they've gotten bigger the natural way, gotta love the baby weight." "It's hard losing the baby weight once you gain it, you know," you whisper... "I'd love the new soft ampleness, sweetness, more and more; you would never cease to be my love goddess." "And the stretch marks." "Oh, honey, give up the worrying, will you. I will be kissing those scars of motherhood, tracing them with my tongue, loving them." You sit and smile at your own body, your breasts resting on your baby bulge. I lift one up and softly rub and massage the skin under it. I lift the other breast and do the same. "Those bras, they get so tight there, don't they? We need to do some shopping for new ones." "Yes, dear, very soon." My hands slide further down and bury in your bush. "I haven't trimmed in a bit." "I can't complain, sweets...This natural look is so sexy." My hands part your pussy lips, holding and rubbing them..."Momma's so wet today." I lay you down and sit between your legs (paying attention to not rest over the baby bulge). My cock takes a quick plunge into your pussy, making you squeal. "All these countless hours of fucking we do, and this never gets old," you smile. "Mmhmm." I push deeper into that comfortable depth, making you moan loudly. I watch your pussy involuntarily contracting around my cock, pulsing..."Feels so good, honey." We rock together wildly, my cock perfectly pounding your pussy in a steady rhythm...my balls slapping on your pussy...slap slap slap slap, as you squeal and laugh blissfully. I lean forward, resting my elbows on your sides and hold on to your breasts for support. Mmm...so relaxing...slap slap slap slap, our rhythm goes on, in our quiet little home, our doors closed tight...cherishing our moments together... But then suddenly, you scream sharp as your orgasm explodes...your pussy forcefully contracts and milks my cock, making me explode into your womb...spurt after spurt...we lay back and pass out...exhausted...our bodies covered in sweat....I close my eyes, what a wonderful, well-deserved weekend this is going to be....	null	null	Authors/deep/kadeepstory.txt
82,150	Alcimedes	David	You gotta promise not to tell anyone, he said. Mark and I looked nervously at each other, then nodded our apprehensive approval to him. Swear it, he said sternly. I swear, we replied in unison. Okay, but if I find out you told anyone about this, I'll deny it, he repeated, giving us a nervous stare in return. Mark and I sat cross-legged next to each other on the wooden floor of the treehouse, anxiously awaiting this mysteriously exciting promise of pubescent angst: our first look at a real, honest-to-god, nudie magazine. The new kid unzipped his backpack and fished inside, pulling out a crumpled paper bag, then unveiled the object of our fascination. I recognized the name on the cover, along with the signature ears and tail the model wore, but as he flipped open the magazine and laid it down on the floor in front of Mark and me, I was unprepared for the sight in front of us. I had seen my little sister naked before, I had even seen my mother without her bra on once, but I'd never seen anything like that before. "Whoa..." was the comment of choice from both Mark and me, as we both attempted to pop our eyes back into our heads. The woman in the picture was elegantly stretched out on a bed, exposed fully for our enjoyment, and believe me, we were enjoying ourselves. Mark began to gently turn the pages, all of us staring intently at each and every new photograph with eager delight, back and forth until we had seen every page nearly twenty times. After about an hour or so, the new kid, Paul, stood up and announced that he had to go, and had to take the magazine with him. After several attempts to get him to leave the magazine, or at least let us look a little longer failed, he carefully slipped the magazine back into its cover and headed down the rope ladder for home. Mark and I sat alone in the treehouse silently for a while, daydreaming to ourselves about the wonders we'd seen. I worried for a while about the boner I had, wondering if Mark would notice, and tried my best to disguise its persistent aching. Mark finally broke the silence, suggesting that it might be time for us to leave. Thoughts of heading home were enough to subside the swelling (for the both of us) and we headed our separate ways back home. The night passed uneventfully, my mind distracted by the family and being allowed to stay up late to watch television, and that night I fell into a deep and satisfying sleep. In the morning, Mark was at the door bright and early, asking my mother if I could go out and play. We climbed on our bikes and pedaled away, Mark shooting ahead of me while calling back, "Come on!" I followed Mark as we pedaled past his street and down the next, listening to the suburban call of Saturday morning mowers humming, and enjoying the familiar smell of freshly cut grass, before coming to a stop in front of a house I didn't recognize. "This is where that new kid Paul lives," Mark revealed. With a ring of the doorbell, we stood fidgeting nervously until the door opened. A silver-haired woman stood behind the screen door, looking rather surprised, but with a pleasant smile on her face. "Well, good morning, boys." "Good morning, Ma'am," we replied. "What can I do for you two?" she asked. Mark chimed in, "Well, we were wondering if Paul could come out and play?" The woman smiled and opened the screen door, "Oh, how sweet. Tell me, what are your names?" "I'm Mark," Mark replied. "I'm David," I answered. "Well, Mark and David, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm afraid, though, that Paul isn't here. You see, he goes to visit his father on the weekends." Visit his father? I wondered silently. Perhaps it was the innocence of the times, or more likely my youthful naivete, but I didn't understand what she meant. Why would you have to go somewhere to see your father? "I just baked some cookies, would you two like one?" she asked politely. Mark and I looked at each other for a moment, before Mark answered, "Sure... I mean, yes, please." She ushered us into the kitchen and handed us each a warm chocolate chip cookie, fresh from the oven; still soft and deliciously gooey. "So where did you boys meet Paul?" she asked as we munched on the cookies. "At the park," I answered. "We had been playing a game of football when one of the kids had to go, leaving the sides uneven. Paul had been standing off to the side watching silently, so we invited him to fill in." "Well, Paul will be back on Monday, and I'll make sure to tell him that you two boys stopped by to see him," she said. "Okay," we replied, "Thanks for the cookies." "You're very welcome," she answered, as we headed out the door. Mark and I headed for the treehouse, parking our beloved banana-seated bicycles behind the stone fence in the customary manner of disguising our secret place, and spent the afternoon hanging out and just talking; mostly about the magazine we'd seen the day before. We talked a little about Paul, of how he'd managed not to get himself creamed playing football because of his small and skinny size, but mostly wondering where he'd gotten the magazine, and wondering if he could get more. The next morning, as I sat in the back seat of the station wagon as we pulled into our driveway coming home from an excruciatingly boring morning of church, Mark was already waiting for me outside the front door. After a quick dash to my room to change out of my Sunday church clothes, we headed out on our bikes for the day. We made our way over to Mark's house where he stopped for a minute and ran into his garage. "Wait here," he yelled as he dashed in, rummaging through a storage bin by the kitchen door. He came back out wearing a backpack and carrying another, tossing it at me as he hopped back onto his bike. "What's this for?" I asked. "I'll tell ya in a minute, come on!" he yelled, and we were off again. I pedaled behind him with curious excitement for a block or two before hollering out to him, "Okay, now tell me what these are for!" Mark stopped his bike along the curb and I pulled along side. "Soooo..." I asked impatiently. "This morning, my Dad made me help load up the car to take some stuff to the dump," he began. "Yeah?" "Well, he asked me if I wanted to go along." "So?" "So, I go along with him. We get to the dump and nobody's there, but the gate's open, so we went on in." "...and...?" I asked, getting impatient. "And so, we're dropping off this old chair my mother didn't want, along with a bunch of old paint cans and stuff..." "Yeah, so...?" "Alright, alright! So anyway, I see this huge trailer, you know like the eighteen-wheeler kind, just sitting out in the middle of this big open field that's full of stuff. So I asked him what it was for, and he told me it's where you drop off for paper recycling," Mark finished, beaming a huge smile on his face. "Yeah, so what?" I asked, completely oblivious as to what the big deal was. "Don't you get it, dummy? It's where people drop off old papers, old newspapers, old M-A-G-A-Z-I-N-E-S...?" I couldn't stop the smile from growing on my face as the light bulb finally went off over my head. "Yeahhh!" I hooted. We sped the long haul to the dump, oblivious to how far it was, our excitement masking any symptoms of fatigue. I'll never forget the moment we arrived at the empty junkyard and stared at the trailer across the open field, feeling like explorers in a new land. We made our way out toward the trailer, nervously afraid that we'd been seen and stashing our bikes at the field's edge, then stealthily making our way across the open field on foot and climbing up into the opened trailer doors. "Wow! Look at all of this!" Mark screamed. The trailer was filled with piles and piles of old newspapers, magazines, boxes, and paper bags, stacked high all the way to the back of the trailer. It was almost overload to our young and horny brains. We each started combing, pulling apart the string-tied bundles looking for our booty. We must have been in that trailer for nearly three hours, finding everything you could imagine; copies of old Look, Life and Ladies Home Journals, old comic books (which we just had to stop and look at), everything except what we were looking for, when I finally opened a box full of magazines and immediately realized I'd found what we'd come to find. "MARK! Mark! I got it! I got it!" I called out excitedly. "Shhhh!" Mark replied, as if our hours of rummaging were suddenly going to be discovered. I pulled out a magazine from the box and opened it slowly, stopping at the first image of heaven. "Whoa..." Mark whispered over my shoulder, staring intently as I was at the images of the woman, naked as a jay bird. Mark reached down into the box to grab another, then another magazine as I stood looking mesmerizingly at mine.After a minute or two, I heard Mark mumble out, "Holy shit..." I dropped the magazine I'd been holding and leaned over to see what Mark had found, when his words were repeated from my own mouth, "Holy shit..." Pay dirt. Mark had found the golden vein of our adolescent dreams, an honest to god, true blue, explicit porno magazine. Scarcely noticing that none of the writing was in English, he began to flip the pages, revealing ever more delightful and exhilarating photos with each turn. It was filled with women exposing every millimeter of the tantalizing feminine secrets to our young and excited eyes, women together kissing and touching each other, and finally... a man and a woman... DOING IT! My knees were literally trembling, my hands sweating profusely as I reached into the box to reveal another and then another magazine, each more suggestive than the next. It was at the pinnacle of our triumph that disaster would nearly strike, as we heard the alarming sound of a car approaching the trailer. Mark and I were jolted by the crunching sounds of the tires on the gravel-strewn field coming to a halt and the car door slamming closed, our hearts pounding out of our chests with near panic, as we stared at each other in indecision. "Hide!" Mark yelped excitedly, as we dove toward the rear of the trailer, covering ourselves with scattered newspapers. I held tightly to the magazine in my hand, already having decided they'd have to pry it from my fingers before I would let go, and held my breath. We listened with bat-like intensity to the agonizingly slow ritual of the person emptying the contents of their trunk, tossing their bundled waste into the trailer. We remained cautiously concealed under the musty smell of old newspapers long after the car pulled away, not daring to push our luck, before deciding the coast was clear. "I think we better go," I whispered to Mark, hidden from my eyes just a few feet away. "Yeah, let's get outta here," he replied anxiously. We climbed out from beneath our lairs, unzipping our backpacks, and began to scoop magazines blindly from the box, stuffing our packs until they could barely close. Their weight seemed to make no difference, as we dashed across the field to our trusty rides, feeling heavy and yet light as air at the same time. I remember the look and feel of unbridled excitement and joy on our faces, as we pedaled as fast as we could back to the treehouse, with expectations of discovery on our minds. I would receive a scolding from my parents that night, having spent the rest of that summer afternoon till the purplish colors of dusk set in, mesmerized by our newfound treasure. It would also be, as I lay awake in my bed that night, thinking of all I'd seen, that I would discover the equally exciting magic of masturbation. Chapter Two: Mark and I spent the following morning scrambling around our garages for scraps, grabbing hammers and nails, and an all-important used combination lock, before heading out to the treehouse. We had decided, before anything, that we had better find a way of hiding what we'd found, its value even greater than gold, or so it seemed at the time. We managed to fashion a rather crude, but functional trunk from old pieces of plywood and lumber we were able to find, even finding hinges and an old and rusted gate lock that we could secure it with. We'd finished by noon, and made our way back to my house for lunch, sitting silently at the dinner table as my mother scuttled about the kitchen. In anticipation of returning to our new prize, I think I managed only a few bites of my sandwich before asking if we could go back outside to play. My mother gave the two of us a suspicious look, knowing we were up to something, but laughingly let us go after we swore our innocence. I'm sure she never believed a word of it, but then again I'm also sure she had no idea what we were up to. Mark and I sat on the floor at opposite sides of the small treehouse, each of us glued to our own magazine, silently staring and gawking at the amazing pictures to be found. I was a comfortable enough distance from Mark, that I felt that I could fidgetingly adjust the swelling in my jeans, which had become increasingly uncomfortable from its confinement. And as I sat there, staring at photo after photo of naked women pleasing and being pleased, imagining myself to be the object of the woman in the picture's talents and desires, I began to think of nothing else but pulling out my dick and stroking it as I had the night before. After a while, I'm not sure exactly how long but for what seemed like hours, the tension in my groin had grown to the point where I had to close the magazine, or explode. And as I gently closed the pages, again shuffling my legs to ease the tension in my pants, I looked over the top edge of my magazine at Mark. He had his magazine held in one hand, holding it close enough to his face to see every minute detail, but with the other was slowly stroking his cock through his jeans. I could see the shape of his hard-on as it pressed tightly against the fabric of his pants, his fingers gently massaging along its length. I felt a strange sense of relief, knowing that my best friend was experiencing the same feelings I had, that I wasn't the only one that had ever felt the urge. I sat silently a minute, just watching him rub himself, and wanting to do the same but still lacking the courage to do it, when Mark whispered out from behind his magazine, "This is great, huh?" "Yeah," I replied, nervously. "God, I think if I don't jerk off soon, I'm gonna die," Mark said a little louder. Now I had heard the words "jerk off" before, but until the night before had never really known exactly what they'd meant. And now, to hear them from Mark, and knowing he knew as well exactly what it meant, caught me by surprise. And before I realized what I'd said, "Yeah, me too," had spilled from my mouth. I suppose I had said it partially out of a nervous effort to fit in or not feel out of place, but it was also the truth. I wanted to cum so bad it hurt. I nervously opened back up my magazine, pressing it to my face like Mark when I saw his fingers stop their massaging. A heavy silence descended over the treehouse before Mark spoke again. "Do you wanna?" I heard him say. "Wanna what?" I asked, pretending to appear naive. "You know...?" He said after a long pause. My heart was pounding hard in my chest at the idea, fraught with both apprehension and sexual excitement. I kept my magazine up to my face, my eyes open but not seeing a thing on its glossy pages. "I don't know, do you?" I finally said, my voice feeling as though it would crack at any moment. My heart continued to race with nervous anticipation of my dare. Mark finally replied, "I will if you will." I closed the pages of the magazine that I held, looking over to see Mark doing the same. We sat for a minute, looking apprehensively in each other's eyes, neither of us wanting to be the weaker to chicken out, but yet both of us unsure if we had the balls to be the first to make a move. And like close friends often do, at that moment we both began to tip off our thoughts with a wry smile, and then a laugh. Mark went for his belt buckle as I did the same, each of us unfastening, unzipping and opening our jeans with giddy excitement, until we each reached into our underwear and pulled out our eager young hard-ons. Not a word was said as we silently examined each other's equipment from afar. I remember, the first thing I noticed was that although Mark's dick was not much bigger than my own, as I would later come to realize, the very light color of his blond pubic hair made it appear to be nearly bald, and so much bigger than it really was. Neither of us thought too much of it, Mark innocently eyeing me as well, and when he reached down and retrieved the magazine he'd been reading, I did the same. We both leaned back against the wall, gently stroking our cocks in one hand while staring at the pictures held in the other, giggling at the excitement of it all. It didn't take long for the laughing to go away, replaced as the sensation of the pumping of our cocks and looking at the pornography was bringing us both quickly to orgasm. No sooner had I begun to feel the tight, tingling sensation in my little balls, than my dick erupted with a geyser of blissful cum, shooting high up onto my shirt, again and again as I continued to pump it excitedly. Without looking, I could hear as Mark reached his orgasm as well, grunting softly as he emptied his load as I had. We both sat for a while, slowly stroking our still hard cocks and breathing hard and deep, when again we both began to laugh. "That was cool!" Mark said breathlessly. "Yeah!" I agreed, still stroking my dick softly. And it was, it was about as an exciting thing I'd ever done or felt in my young life, and I knew for sure that I wanted to do it again. I looked over at Mark and saw that he'd laid his magazine down at his side, but was still holding his dick in his hand, gently tugging on it. "Jesus, look at all the stuff on your shirt!" I said to him, surprised by the amount of semen that stood out against his dark blue T-shirt. "Oh man, you too!" He replied looking at me and laughing. We both relinquished our grips on ourselves and quickly stripped off our shirts, using them to wipe off the now sticky remnants from our fingers and softening members. We nervously concocted a plan to explain our soiled shirts, deciding we would rub them in the dirt before heading home and claim that we were playing football at the park. There would be time for that later, we silently agreed, and were soon back to looking at the magazines, but not before we'd decided to swap, seeing for ourselves what the other had seen. And, as it is with young and hormonally charged boys, it was only a matter of minutes before we both once again had raging hard-ons.This time, however, there was no hesitation in grabbing them and beginning the adolescent five-finger dance. Flipping through Mark's magazine, I came upon a picture that I hadn't seen in mine; a woman with long blond hair and massive breasts, kneeling between the legs of a naked man who looked down at her face with excited eyes. Turning the page, the next image was of the same woman, still kneeling before the man, but this time she held his erect penis in her hand and had her tongue laid along its length. Just below it was another picture, this time the woman had the man's penis all the way in her mouth, appearing to suck on it like a giant candy lollipop. My mouth went dry as I stared wide-eyed at the picture, my hand increasing the pace of my stroking as my dick lurched at the picture as well. My mind reeled at the thought that a woman would do such a thing, and as I continued to examine the photo it became quite apparent to me that she was enjoying herself as much as the man in the photo was. He had his head tilted back and his eyes shut, straining his face not out of pain but of pleasure, and I could distinctly see the slightly upturned smile on the lips of the woman that knelt before him, engulfing his cock with her ruby red lipsticked mouth. My hand nearly trembled at the thought; my mind instinctively imagining the warm and moist sensations the man was receiving. It was then, as I lay reclined against the wall, my hand still stroking away on my cock, that I heard Mark begin to grunt again. Out of curiosity, I dropped my magazine just enough to see over the top of the page, to see Mark feverishly jerking himself to another orgasm, his dick squirting out his cum up onto his now shirtless stomach, again and then again. It was too much for me, and closing my eyes, I blew my load for the second time. It would be different from the first; not quite as intense but because of the increased effort the second time around, more physical, more draining and yet equally satisfying. At that moment, I felt like I could just lay there doing this over and over again for the rest of my life. But like all good things, it had to end. And as we both lay exhausted and drained, gently mopping the mess from our bellies and finally zipping back up our pants, realizing that it was getting late and not wanting to get into trouble for staying out too late again, we collected up the magazines and cautiously locked them away in our newly made safe. And as we rubbed our shirts in the dirt below the treehouse, stamping on them with nervous delight, I thought silently to myself of figuring out a way to sneak one of the magazines home, to occupy myself at night. I'm sure that Mark was thinking the same, but for now, it would have to wait. Chapter Three: Mark and I spent the remainder of that week, as well as the next, doing pretty much the same thing; sneaking away every available minute we could to our hideaway and enjoying the thrills of looking at the collection of magazines. And along with our fascination at looking at every new picture, we also became less and less reserved about the subject of sex, as well as masturbation, eventually finding no hesitation in whipping down our shorts when the time seemed right. It was almost becoming ritual, to the point where we openly watched each other in a sort of game, who could come faster, who could last the longest, even standing side by side as we stroked to see who could shoot the farthest. It was such an innocent time of sexual exploration, and although both of us unspokenly knew not to mention it to anyone, neither of us felt any guilt in what we were doing. Each of us would borrow one of the magazines to take home at night, finding plenty of time to perfect our technique so to speak, and even finding fun in pointing out anytime we found something new in one of the magazines. I lamented the idea of having to go to camp, which was quickly approaching, not wanting to leave behind the incredible fun I was having. Every year, from the time I was in the third grade, my mother and father shipped my kid sister and I to a Christian summer camp for two weeks. The camp was in the Pocono Mountains of Pennsylvania, only half a day's drive, and sat on the edge of a big lake. It had the usual camp ensemble of activities; swimming at the lake, boating classes, nature hikes, and the ever-popular bug juice at meals. And apart from the terminally boring sermons the camp director would force us through each morning, I had a good time. But this year, for obvious reasons, I found it very difficult to get excited about going. And to compound the problem, I couldn't exactly explain to my parents that the reason I didn't want to go to camp was that I'd rather be up in the treehouse spanking the monkey with my best friend. So instead, I decided just to deal with it, and to carefully stash away a few magazines for entertainment purposes should the opportunity arise. The treehouse felt strangely silent, as I sat alone for the first time in nearly two weeks. I would be heading off to camp the next morning and wanted to have one more opportunity to look through the magazines and decide which one I was going to take with me. There were so many to choose from, it was difficult to decide which one I liked the best. Some of the magazines had already made themselves into a stack that Mark and I rarely even looked at anymore; the pin-up magazines with pretty women but on the whole fairly boring, a couple of magazines with women dressed up in costumes that looked like they were from a Vincent Price horror movie doing things that didn't look like they were having any fun at all, even a black and white magazine that had only pictures of men in it. I sat going through the good stack, having fun as I rubbed my boner through my shorts as I tried to decide, when I heard the sound of Mark's bicycle approaching down the pine needle-covered trail. Just to be sure though, I loaded back up the trunk and closed the lid, before peeking out the small window. It was indeed Mark, but much to my surprise, there was someone with him, the new kid Paul. The two of them stashed their bicycles and headed for the ladder, climbing up cautiously as they had seen my bicycle. "Hey... David?" I heard Mark call up. "Yeah, Mark. Come on up," I replied. "I... um, told Paul he could come. He said, half asking. "I kinda spilled the beans about the magazines. He whispered in my ear, as Paul sat meekly across the treehouse. "Sorry about that, it was kind of an accident. He asked me to come over this morning to his house, and when he showed me another one of his magazines, I kinda let it slip out about you and I finding all of ours. I made him swear not to tell anyone, or we'd beat him up." It wasn't like Mark to say those kinds of things, I'd never so much as seen him ever raise a fist to anyone for anything before, but this was different. And although I knew we'd probably never actually beat him up, he looked like he was about half our size, I put on a serious face to support the illusion. "You swear?" Mark said to Paul, wanting him to swear it in front of me. He simply nodded his head, and sat looking nervous. Mark looked at me, and after giving him the nod, opened the trunk and pulled out a magazine, handing it to the anxious youth as he sat across from us. With a mixture of fascination and amusement, Mark and I fought from laughing as we watched Paul's eyes open wide and his jaw begin to slacken open. "Whoa..." His voice crackled out. "I told you," Mark stated triumphantly. Paul had no reply, in fact I'm not sure he heard Mark at all, or anything else for that matter. He had checked out completely, lost to his own fascination held in his hands. And after a few minutes, Mark and I both realized it would be a while before he would be coming up for air. "So, you're leaving tomorrow?" Mark asked, as he sat down beside me, resting his back on the wall and sitting on the other side of the magazine chest. "Yeah, early tomorrow morning," I replied, my voice revealing the disappointment of the idea. "How long will you be gone?" Mark asked, picking up a magazine and flipping open the pages. "Two whole weeks," I said, doing the same. "Man... that sucks..." Mark said softly, his voice trailing off as his attention was beginning to turn toward the flesh-colored images of the magazine he held. And as if drawn into the same spiraling eddy, I softly replied, "Yeah..." Angelina. Long and straight black hair, skinnier than the usual women in the magazines but equally as exciting; I felt an unusual attraction to her look. She was standing next to two men, who leered at her body with hungry eyes. I suppose my look was the same, and like the two lucky ones in the pictures, I was starting to feel the familiar tingle of lust between my legs. Turning the page, my mind's eye soaked in the entanglement of flesh and limbs as the three naked bodies intertwined on the sheets of what I imagined to be Angelina's bed. Alternating the projection of myself as, first one of the men, then the other, each being satisfied by this vision of smoothness and pleasure... and then I turned the page. Like a child seeing something for the first time, I was frozen with both puzzlement and excited curiosity with what I saw. One of the men was lying on his back with the beautiful Angelina straddling his hips, his pecker buried deep inside of her; an envious position. But my mind struggled in bewilderment at the sight of the other man, and what he was doing. With his feet planted on the bed, he was straddling the other man like Angelina was, but he stood squatting behind her with his hands resting on each side of her waist. But the object of my fascination was the fact that he had his dick sticking inside of her as well, ...but not in the same place as the other man. A fraction of a second? A minute, an hour?How long that moment lasted, I couldn't tell you, as it would be so powerfully overshadowed by the realization of exactly where the squatting man's penis was. I gawked in motionless amazement, but not all of me was still. My own pecker leapt at the realization, rocketing to blue steel stiffness in seconds. Whatever inkling of rational or moral hesitation might have existed in my brain never would have stood a chance against the pounding of my heart and the deafening roar of blood rushing in my ears. It was the moment I fully understood the meaning of the word erotic; the jury was instantly out and long gone on which magazine I'd be taking with me to camp. I sat silently for a while, answering my own questions as they popped in and out of my head, answering them by reading the look of pleasure on each of the paper participants' faces. I only had a little while before I'd have to head home, but long enough to find some relief to the ache centered in my crotch. Mark was deep into his own magazine, his telltale fidgeting tipping off the fact that he would be thinking the same thing soon, but I hesitated at the realization that Paul was sitting across the treehouse. I cautiously looked over at Paul, trying carefully to gather a sense of what he was thinking: Did he know about it? What would he think if he knew about Mark and I doing it? ...here? ...in front of somebody else? It had been different with Mark, we'd known each other for so long, he felt like a brother, I trusted him. Could I trust Paul? Mark saw my staring, and gently gave my arm a nudge. I knew by his look what he was thinking, but was unsure of what to do. As it turned out, I didn't need to as Mark slowly unzipped his fly and pulled his pecker out, motioning for me to do the same with a sly nod. I half smiled at the daring of his actions, as well as the nervousness of wondering what his plan was. After just a moment or two, perhaps catching our movement, Paul looked up from his magazine to see both Mark and I slowly stroking our little hardons while half looking at our magazines. Paul's eyes popped wide open and his jaw dropped in shock, but not a word came from him. Mark looked up from his magazine at Paul, and I fought off a nervous smile at the look on his face. "Well, come on Paul. You gotta do it too!" He barked out, the sharpness of his order even surprising me. He looked my way for support, and I caught the meaning of his glance. "Yeah, Paul. You gotta do it now, if you want to stay in the 'club'," I said, using the age-old need for adolescent male conformity. "Yeah, Paul," Mark continued, "It's all part of being in the 'secret club'." Paul sat motionless, his face white as a sheet with fear and apprehension, and the more I looked at him the more I began to doubt the boldness of Mark's plan. My dick also began to display my doubts, growing increasingly soft as the tension mounted. And just as I was readying myself to figure a way out of this precariously wrong move, Paul slowly put down the magazine he'd held and began to unsnap the top button of his Toughskin Jeans. Mark and I watched with a mixture of tension and relief as Paul unzipped his pants, sliding them down a bit and cautiously hooking his thumbs under the elastic of his briefs. He gave Mark one more nervous look before pulling them down mid-thigh and quickly covering his genitals. "It's cool," Mark said. "Haven't you ever done this before?" Paul nervously shook his head no, still looking a bit pale and nervous. "That's alright. It doesn't hurt or anything, it's really cool. Have you ever gotten a boner before?" Mark asked, gesturing to his own hardon. "Yeah, um... sorta, I guess..." Paul squeaked out tentatively, attempting to hide his fear. "Didn't you notice that it feels pretty cool when you rub it?" Mark went on, sounding confident once again. "Kinda..." Paul replied, with a slightly relaxed response of recognition. "Well, it's like that but better. A lot better," Mark said with a smile. There had always been that reassuring charm of Mark's, the gift of salesmanship that worked on almost anyone; sometimes too good, and it was about to be thrown my way. "See, when you get a boner, you just grab a hold of it like this and start rubbing it. It feels great... go ahead and show 'em, David." Shit! I couldn't very well back out now, if this thing wasn't going to blow up into a huge and embarrassing disaster, even though at that moment I felt a surge of anger at Mark for putting me on the spot. He, or admittedly "we," had started this and it was too late to turn back. So, gathering my courage in an effort to keep up the affront, I added, "Yeah, it's really cool." My hardon had gone completely limp from the tension, and was going to need some serious distraction to regain its happy state, so I picked back up the magazine that had been sitting at my side and opened it up to where I'd been fantasizing before; Angelica. My self-conscious anxiety quickly began to give way to the increased beating of my heart and uncontrollable rush of blood to my head and penis, arousing both organs as they fell under the primitive spell of lust. And as my fingers found their second home, wrapped once again around my hardon, I heard Mark say to Paul, "See... it's easy." Any apprehension I'd felt at the idea of having the two of them watch me jerk off quickly dissolved as I began to feel the heightened tingling in my balls as I stroked away. I don't know if it was the highly erotic imagery of the all-new Angelica and her two buried friends or the tension that we'd all been caught up in, but I began to sense that I was quickly building to one monster of an orgasm. And just as quickly as I'd realized it, there it was; my legs stiffened as I began to feel my balls clench tight and explode. My hand primed my hardon as it began to lob stream after stream of cum into the air, floating effortlessly at their apex before splashing against the cover pages of the magazine I held closely to my face. The feeling was intense, and I was lost in the moment; pumping from deep inside, feeling the waves of pleasure from each liquidy release. "Wow..." I dimly heard Mark utter. "See! I told ya!" And as the sensation that had gripped my body began to subside, the flow of sexual adrenaline still pumping through my veins, I became more and more alert to the sound of Mark quietly whispering to Paul. "Go ahead, now you try it," Mark coaxed, already reaching for his own magazine and pecker simultaneously. I looked over to see Paul still flustered, but mimicking Mark's actions; picking up his magazine and uncovering himself for the first time. It was the first time in my life ever seeing an uncircumcised penis, and for a moment I was a little shocked, thinking there was something wrong with him. He was smaller than both Mark and I, smaller by a bunch, but as he began to turn his concentration away from Mark and I and back to the images in the magazine, he began to slowly but surely get a hardon. And with a hesitant motion, his hand slowly crept its way down toward his dick; tentatively brushing its delicate fingers around his stiffening member and gently stroking along its sensitive skin. I hunted around inside of my backpack for a towel to clean myself, pausing occasionally to look at the other two, and began to wipe off the sticky goo that covered my hand and waist. Paul seemed to be getting the hang of it, slowly beginning to stretch the skin of his hardon up and down with his grip, his legs flinching with pleasure. Mark was into a rhythm, beginning to breathe deeper and deeper and slowly intensifying the pace of his stroking. That was when I noticed that Paul seemed not to be looking at his magazine at all, but was intently watching Mark, almost as if studying him and his motions. Mark was oblivious to Paul's gaze, and by the muffled moans he began to emit, I knew he was close to coming. I tried not to stare, but couldn't help but notice that Paul had begun to slowly lean forward and was staring intently at Mark as he neared his orgasm. Mark finally let out a deep grunt as he began to peak, but unlike I had always done, letting the warm fluid squirt out onto my belly, Mark slipped his hand over the tip of his penis, shooting off into the palm of his hand. And in a quick motion, never seeming to lose the rhythm of his stroking, slid his slippery palm and fingers back down over the shaft of his straining cock, and began to slide it up and down its glossy skin with abandon. It was the first time I'd ever seen him do this, and I was fascinated, wondering to myself why I'd never thought of it before. He was really into it, his hips raising off the floor in an effort to meet his thumping hand, when I realized that Paul was coming too. His hand was nearly a blur as he pounded on his meat, eyes still fixed intently on Mark's erupting cock, when he began to come wildly; his jizm shooting out higher than I thought was humanly possible. His eyes clamped themselves shut and he practically fell backward to the wall, his head making an audible thud as it hit the rough plank boards, but he never stopped pulling on his dick, continuing to shoot load after load all over himself. "Whoa...!" I heard myself say, as I watched in amazement; startled by the near convulsive power of his orgasm and amazed at the sheer volume of come he continued to squirt out. I guess Mark heard my voice, and looked to see what I was staring at. His eyes popped open as mine had, and he continued to jack on his cock, I think coming for a second time. The feeling in the air was electric, and all three of us sat silently in its power long after the two of them had finished. I eventually found my way home that afternoon, feeling almost drunk from the sensations I'd felt and seen, and would sleep soundly that night. And in the morning, I was off to camp. Chapter Four: The truth of it was, I did have a good time.Being a year older and a bit wiser, I enjoyed myself a little more, tuning out the fire and brimstone sermons from the camp director, and feeling a little more self-confident. The days and nights passed quickly, always filled with some type of activity, and before I knew it, I was headed for home. I found sleep difficult my first night home from camp, exhausted from the long day and the long car ride, but too excited by the anticipation of heading back to the treehouse. It was mid-morning, after finishing breakfast and complying with my mother's demand to unpack my camp laundry and sort it out in the laundry room, before I got the okay to head out to play. I jumped on my bicycle with enthusiasm and pedaled furiously down the street toward the wooded patch of land behind Mark's house, and our secret hideaway. Leaping off the bike even before it stopped, tossing it into the gnarled bushes, I headed for the rope ladder and began to climb. I hadn't seen any other bicycles and assumed that Mark wasn't at the treehouse yet, but as my head peeked up into the small room, I saw Paul sitting next to the trunk of magazines that we'd made. I must have startled him, as he jumped a bit, surprised to see me. "Hey!" I said, surprised myself to see him. He closed the magazine he held quickly and covered his lap conspicuously with my entrance. "Oh, it's you..." He squeaked out with a sigh of relief. He looked at me with nervous eyes and began to speak again, but didn't finish, "I... um... Mark said it was okay if I..." I finished climbing up and into the room, tossing my small backpack down, and took a seat on the floor to catch my breath. "It's all right," I answered, feeling a little out of place by my absence. Paul gave a smile of relief, and let out a deep sigh. "Where's Mark?" I asked. "I don't think he can come out today," Paul answered softly. I returned his odd look with a questioning look of my own. "I stopped at his house, but when I rang the doorbell his mother answered the door looking really mad," He said quietly. "Oh," I replied. Mark's mother would sometimes get like that, screaming at Mark for no reason, but I guess no more than my own mother did. The two of us sat in a nervous silence for a few minutes, unsure of what to say, feeling a little reserved in our unfamiliarity of each other. But the ice was broken shortly after Paul asked where I'd been, and I proceeded to fill him in on my time at camp. I learned a few things about him as we sat and talked for a while; he had moved here from California, and before that from that Vietnam place that was always in the news. His father was in the army, and his mother used to live in Vietnam before she met his father. It answered a question I'd been wondering, mystified by his physical looks; it was obvious that he was oriental but yet he looked so different from anyone else I'd ever met. Meanwhile, all the time we talked, he was idly glancing down at the magazine that covered his lap as we spoke, and I could sense that he was hiding something. It kept drawing my attention to the fact that I wanted to check out more of the magazines, until finally I decided just to bring up the subject. Unzipping my backpack, I pulled out the magazine I'd spirited away to camp with me, and scooted over to the trunk and lifted up the lid. I could tell that Paul was anxiously watching my every move, and I tried to break the tension. "So, I guess you and Mark have seen all of them by now?" I asked, referring to the stacks of magazines in the trunk. "Not all of them..." Paul replied. "Which one is that?" I asked, pointing to the magazine resting on his lap. "Oh, I just picked it up..." He began to say, but then quickly picked it up off his lap and buried it under some other magazines in the trunk. I then saw what he'd been trying to hide, his fly was wide open, and I realized that he had probably started to masturbate when I first climbed up into the treehouse but was too embarrassed to admit it. I didn't really care, that's exactly what I'd planned on doing, so I decided to keep on the subject. "So, do you have a favorite one?" I asked, smiling. "N... no, not really," He replied cautiously, "do you...?" "Yeah, kinda. Look at this one," I said, opening up the magazine I held. Paul scooted over next to me as I turned the pages, looking for the pictures I liked. He stared intently as I turned the pages, waiting for me to slow down, when I finally found the pictures. I stopped and moved the magazine so that it sat almost between us, resting on each of our outstretched legs as we sat side by side on the cool wooden floor. Paul nestled in a little closer as we looked at the magazine together, each of us pointing out the things we liked best, and I began to feel really turned on. But unlike ever before, there was something very different this time. It was the first time that I'd ever really shared the intimacy of talking about what I found so erotic. Mark and I had exchanged magazines before, talking about what we'd seen, but it was different this time; having someone so physically close to me while I was feeling so horny, feeling the innocent touch of someone else's flesh next to mine as we leered excitedly at the pictures, and our talking about them only increased my excitement. After a little while, I realized that Paul had his hand down in his pants, inside of his already opened zipper, and was slowly massaging himself. I wanted to be doing the same thing, and decided that if I made it clear that I knew what he was doing that he wouldn't mind if I did the same thing. So I gently pulled the magazine over onto his lap, letting it come to rest on his hand that was half buried in his pants, and then started to unzip my own. Paul just looked at me and smiled, knowing that it was okay, and started to unbutton his own pants, pulling them down to his knees along with his underwear, so that he was now sitting next to me completely exposed. I hadn't planned on pulling my pants down, but I felt suddenly strange about not wanting to seem out of place, so I pulled mine down all the way to my knees as well. I must admit, there were other subtle reasons. I didn't want our exciting discussion to stop, enjoying the new feelings of closeness, and I also found myself fascinated at Paul's looking so 'different' than I did. It was only the second time I'd seen an uncircumcised penis and I was still curious, observing its differences to my own, this time closer than ever before. I made it obvious to Paul that I was curious, as I was staring as he slowly pulled on his semi-hard penis, and he watched just as fascinated as I did the same. We sat silently, both of us slowly and gently masturbating ourselves, watching each other, Paul's excitement becoming apparent as his cock continued to stiffen. I watched closely at his every move, how he pulled the skin of his now fully erect penis gently up and down, giving it a gentle twist as the skin gathered at the base of its head, before pulling it up to completely cover his swollen glans. The room seemed filled with sexual tension, the two of us captivated by our own pleasure, along with the unspoken knowledge of the taboo we were engaged in, when I felt Paul's free hand gently brush along the skin of my thigh between us. It sent a tingling shock through me, but not of one of fear or disgust as I'd imagined, but more of excitement at having my first sensation of the touch of another so close to my 'private area'. But more to my amazement, Paul didn't pull his hand away from my leg. "Do you have a girlfriend?" Paul asked, almost in a whisper. It caught me a little off guard, and took me a moment to answer. "No," I said, with an almost embarrassed tone. "Me neither," He whispered. The tension between us grew as we sat silently for a moment, before I admitted, "...but there is a girl in my class I really like." "Yeah..." He replied softly, acknowledging the feelings of desire and frustration most boys our age felt. "Her name's Suzanne," I admitted, sharing for the first time with anyone my secret crush for the little blonde-haired girl I'd watched all year long in school. It was almost a relief to admit it and also felt a strong bond growing with Paul as I exposed to him my innermost thoughts. "Do you ever think about her like... this?" Paul asked softly after another long pause, and I immediately understood what he meant. After discovering the magic of masturbating, I had often thought of her as I closed my eyes and pleased myself at night, free to play out my secret desires and imagine myself in the most intimate moments with her. "Yeah..." I whispered back, my mind filled with images of Suzanne, her soft beautiful skin next to mine, and desire in her eyes. "Do you...?" I asked in kind. "Yeah... me too," He replied. We looked at each other, suddenly feeling the seriousness of admitting our secret desires to someone else, coupled with the closeness and eroticism of our touching. And without really knowing why, I asked him, "What do you think about?" There was a long moment of silence between us, as I felt the tension of our unspoken excitement, and my mind filled with my own thoughts of what it would be like to be naked with a girl. Paul turned slightly to me, his body nearly pressing against mine, and I felt his hand on my thigh once again. It was electric, the sensation of his fingers as they slowly brushed against the soft skin of my hip, and then I felt his other hand as it reached across his body and touched my belly. He was so very close to me, staring into my eyes just inches away as he nestled in closer, but all I could feel was his hand on my waist, as it slowly snaked under my shirt and gently slid up my chest. "First she would rub my chest with her hand..." He whispered, never taking his eyes off mine.My hand stopped its motion on myself, my mind too distracted by the new sensation of Paul's fingers as they slowly crept up under my shirt and gently brushed across my nipple, causing it to stiffen with excitement and send a jolt of excitement directly down to my now throbbing cock, a new sensation for me. "... and then she would slowly start to move her hand down..." He continued, still gazing deeply at me with eyes that seemed to sparkle as he whispered. I began to feel lightheaded, almost intoxicated, as I stared back at him, but it was not his face I saw. I was so horny, so distracted by our innocent talk of girls, of Suzanne, and filled with emotions of longing, longing for her, that it seemed as though I didn't see Paul at all, only Suzanne. His hand began to slowly slide back down my chest, swirling gently as it made its way over my stomach and down to the soft tuft of pubic hair of my crotch. I was terrified, and yet I didn't want him to stop, his touch sending shivers through me as if it were hers. My hands fell unconsciously to my sides, and I felt one come to rest on the soft skin of Paul's thigh. My senses were overcome by the touch of Paul's hand as it caressed my skin, and I felt almost powerless to stop what I secretly wanted to happen. I felt his leg gently rub against mine, his skin feeling so soft and warm, and a wave of panic ran through me at its touch. It was only the movement of his hand that kept me from ending the whole terrifying but exciting adventure, as it slowly slid through my pubic hair and I felt his fingers touch the base of my harder-than-steel erection. "... and then she would touch me here..." He whispered in a breathy voice. I was almost hypnotized as I sat motionless listening to his words, and closed my eyes as I felt his fingers gently wrap themselves around my penis. I would have done anything for him to stop and end the terror that swelled inside me, and yet all I could think of was the desire for him to continue, for my fantasy to continue, consumed by the delightful pleasure of having someone, anyone, holding my penis. So with my eyes held shut, my mind filling with thoughts of Suzanne, and the sensations of Paul's hand as it began to slowly glide up and down on my aching cock, I moaned softly. Paul strengthened his grip on my cock, pulling its soft skin gently up and down along its steely shaft underneath, and I could feel his breath on my face as he pumped his hand in a mesmerizing rhythm. I was breathing hard, my excitement building as it replaced my fear, and it was then that I lost all thoughts of wishing him to stop, wanting only for him to keep stroking my cock with his hand. I moaned again as I felt his fingers collect the drops of pre-cum that had gathered at the tip of my penis and swirl it around along its swollen head, and I felt an overpowering desire to thrust my hips forward. Paul continued to slide his hand up and down my cock, gaining speed as he smeared the lubrication down along my shaft. But as it began to dry from the friction, exposed to the open air, his fingers began to stick to the tacky skin of my shaft, almost painfully. And as the discomfort increased, wanting him to stop but not wanting him to end his pleasuring of my penis, I shifted my hips down in an effort to stretch out further. And then, to my total shock and surprise, Paul stopped his motions and shifted down with me until we were both laying flat against the wooden floor. But as I lay my head down, feeling the relaxation of my body as it came to rest, I could feel Paul still moving, downward along my body, his cheek coming to rest on my exposed belly. I felt his breath on my skin, warming my stomach with his labored breathing as he began to pump my cock once again. I was again filled with both terror and desire, his face so tantalizingly close to my crotch, when I lifted my hand and gently touched the softness of the hair on the back of his head. He must have recognized my discomfort, as I felt him stop his hand, but then suddenly felt a warm and moist sensation on the tip of my penis. I moaned at the sensation as it grew, slowly consuming the entire head of my cock, and then I felt the warm strength of his tongue as it slowly began to probe the contours of its head. My fingers began to slide through his hair as I felt an overwhelming desire to penetrate deeper into his mouth. He moaned at my touch, sending a deep vibration through his lips as they wrapped gently around the base of my cock head, and a shock wave of pleasure rolling down the length of my shaft and into my balls. His fingers tightened their grip at the base of my cock and he began to resume pumping the skin up towards his mouth. With his tongue still swirling around the head of my cock, exploring every inch as it stirred in the warm moist confines of his mouth, his lips gingerly bobbing just at the ridge of the head, and his hand slowly priming the skin up and down against the core of my shaft, my balls began to swell in anticipation of release. And at that moment, I began to feel very afraid of what was going to happen; if he didn't stop soon, I was going to come right in his mouth. The thought of it was so terrifying, and yet so incredibly erotic that my orgasm began to build with alarming intensity. And as I sensed that it was reaching the point where I wouldn't be able to stop it, I began to panic. "Wait...!" I yelled out, frightening myself with the loudness of my own voice. Paul's mouth popped off the end of my cock, and I felt his labored breath on its tip as he panted. My legs began to instinctively struggle underneath the weight of his arm and chest, and his hand ceased its pumping but retained its grip on my hard-on. It was enough to forestall my orgasm, if only for a moment, as my cock hovered right on the brink of exploding, still poised precariously just inches from his lips. But it was too late. The muscles in my legs began to clench tightly in a vain attempt to stem the sensation of my balls as they began to reluctantly release their load, slowly seeming to fill and then gently send their efforts rising up the length of my penis like a warming thermometer. My lungs held tightly my breath, leaving me unable to say a word as I realized I was now unable to stop the inevitable. My entire body joined in the effort, becoming motionless and rigid as I felt the warm liquid reach the tip of my cock, and slowly begin to ooze out against my efforts to stop it. My thoughts became a storm of embarrassment, excitement and humiliation all at the same time; embarrassed by my inability to control my own body, excited by the incredible sexual tension I was adrift in, and humiliated by the sudden realization of the precarious and unspoken taboo I was involved in and the terror of what it meant, or at least what I thought it meant. It all seemed so wrong, although I didn't know why. Guys weren't supposed to do this kind of thing together, and yet at the same time it felt so incredibly good. How could that be? But as my mind raced out of control with all of these confusing thoughts, I was suddenly snapped back to reality at the sensation of warmth and softness, as Paul's tongue gently slid along the head of my penis, slowly cleansing it of the pearly trickle of cum that had begun to slowly but steadily leak out its tip and drip down on my belly. It was too much for me to hold back any longer and I felt all sense of control slip away as a wave of orgasm rocked my genitals, sending a stream of cum gushing out onto Paul's outstretched tongue. But no sooner than I felt the exhausted strain of my cock begin to release in preparation for another load to expunge, I was shocked again by the sensations of warmth and wetness, but this time it was as Paul engulfed the head of my cock into his mouth, sucking on it as another torrent of cum erupted from my tightening balls. My body began to blindly follow its instincts, straining to penetrate further as my hips thrust upward, pushing my cock deeper into Paul's mouth. His jaw seemed to open effortlessly, inviting me to penetrate deeper as another blast of cum poured forth, followed by another and yet another as I strained to relieve the primeval need to fuck the warm and moist orifice I found myself in. And as my cock continued to pump, long after it had exhausted its supply of fluids, I felt Paul's hand slide down over my balls, gently cupping them and squeezing softly as if to express their last ounce of my orgasm out. I laid my head back down onto the hard wooden floor of the treehouse, my body finally beginning to unclench and release my tension as my mind swam in post-orgasmic bliss. Paul never made any attempt to remove my cock from his mouth, continuing to suck gently and stroke my balls softly until eventually my hard-on began to slowly fade, shrinking to its limp but still very sensitive flaccid size. His tongue continued to roll along its length as he continued to play with my soft and spent member in his mouth, almost as if to will it to hardness again. But as I lay there, coming down from the most intense orgasm I'd ever experienced, the thoughts of tension and anxiety began to slowly creep into my mind again, wiping away the pleasure that Paul continued to perform on me. And as I lifted my head back up, moving my legs in an effort to sit up, Paul quickly stopped and nervously scooted himself away from me and sat up. I didn't know what to do, but found myself nervously fishing down to my ankles for my underwear and shorts, desperately trying not to look toward Paul. And although I attempted to avert my eyes from his, I could see that he was just as nervously getting himself dressed, fumbling as he tried to pull up his shorts and zip up his fly. It all seemed to happen so fast... too fast. And yet, it had seemed to last a lifetime. "...How long had it been? How long did I let him do that to me? What time was it? God, I've gotta get outta here!""Don't look at him. Or should I? What will I say? What will HE say? Oh God, I've gotta go..." My head spun from the sheer speed the thoughts and questions seemed to come, one after another. "I... um... I... uh... think I have to... um... go home..." I mumbled and stammered quietly while retrieving my backpack from the floor, still unsure if I was doing the right thing. Paul never spoke, standing silently looking at the floor, as I headed for the exit. As I stepped down the wobbly rope ladder, my head just about ready to disappear under the floor of the small treehouse, I glanced up nervously at Paul for just an instant. He was looking down at me, his eyes meeting mine, and both of us exchanged a look of stunned bewilderment. I thought for a moment that he was trying to say something to me, but I never gave him the chance as I quickly broke off our silent exchange and raced down the ladder. The world could have been burning around me and I would have never noticed as I pedaled my bicycle furiously home, my feelings still a jumbled mess of conflicting thoughts and pictures. Finally reaching the comforting security of home and my room, I lay in my bed behind a locked door and remained there the rest of the night, feigning an upset stomach when my mother called me down for dinner. The night would be long and restless, as I struggled with my thoughts and feelings, uncertain of what was to come.	null	Chapter One: Buried Treasure	Authors/Alcimedes/text/david.txt
82,326	C.D.E.	Trials & Tribulations	You know, it gets me how many trials and tribulations a husband has to endure to keep even a good marriage together. If it's not my wife's old boyfriends accidentally interfering with our ironclad marriage, it's other men, even friends of mine, who inadvertently cause problems for our marriage as well. Let me try to explain what I mean. I'll start with her old boyfriends first. Her old flame, Jim, has accidentally managed to knock her up twice in our fifteen-year marriage. My wife, Jenny, felt sorry for him because of the problems he was having with his significant other both times. She claimed, each time, she hated to see him walking around moping and with a hard-on. To lift his spirits, she lifted her dress and pulled her panties down for him. Well, both times he got rid of his hard dick, and we got two additions to our family. Her explanation was the same each time she accidentally got pregnant from Jim. "I can't help it if Jim buys such cheap rubbers and they fail" was the reason she gave me. "You can't hold me responsible for him not buying quality condoms. After all, I did more than enough, as his friend and helping him out, by giving him some." In both instances, my wife let me know that abortion was out of the question. I was very upset each time, but she and I reconciled. I ended up being the daddy of the living, breathing results of her accidental dual sins. The same identical thing happened with two of her other old boyfriends. Again, we reconciled, and I forgave her making the same mistakes again. When you're in love as deep as we are, it's easy to forgive a loving spouse for accidentally making mistakes. You see, one of my wife's main character flaws is that she's just naturally too good-hearted. She seems to go overboard in being helpful to people, especially men. My wife is extremely beautiful. I've told her several times she doesn't have to put out just because she makes other men's cocks hard when she's around them. But alas, no matter how hard she tries to keep from being the good Samaritan, it gets to her if she goes too long without helping some poor guy out who gets an aching boner from being around her or ogling at her charming figure. She often feels sorry for some of my best friends too, especially Paul, who comes by to see me often. Generally, it's when I'm not home. We have two children that he's fathered also. I've asked him to call first to see if I'm home before he comes by, but he always seems to forget to do so. It seems when I'm there at home, there is less of a chance that she weakens and offers him or others help for their aching hard-ons. Well anyway, as a result of Paul's forgetfulness to put on a condom, she's pregnant again from him. This is his third contribution to our relatively large family. Jenny doesn't like the pill or diaphragms. She thinks it's the man's responsibility to use birth control protection. "After all, if I'm putting out, it's the least they can do to put on a good quality rubber" is what she always says. She's also rather religious and doesn't believe in abortion either, hence our 9 kids, with number 10 on the way. I must be the only one she has sex with that remembers to use protection faithfully, since I've yet to father a single one of our 9 kids, including number 10 in the oven. As I mentioned previously, she's confirmed to me that she believes it's Paul's baby. Paul, and some of the other friends of mine that come by to see me, as I mentioned before, often come by our house while I'm not there. Several times, I've arrived just as they were coming. Not coming over, but coming in my wife's delectable cunt. Early in our marriage, I would raise a stink. That is for her feeling sorry for them because they got horny from being around her, and especially if the man, in a fit of passion, forgot to put on a condom. After the first few times I rebuked and scolded her. She pouted angrily and claimed that she got pregnant because I wasted time scolding her, when it would've been more productive trying to help her get the other man's virile jism out of her. She's the one that proposed to me that sucking her semen-filled pussy would be an effective means of extraction and pregnancy prevention. "Darling, I know you have some difficulty when I feel sorry for them and give in to the fellows when they have erections, but I trust you to do a better job and a more thorough effort of drawing out their sperm than them. Plus, they are often tired from fucking me and probably don't like messing with their hot spent sticky semen. The same stuff that caused them to fuck their buddy's wife in the first place. So darling, it's just natural you have a vested interest in preventing me from becoming pregnant. So I think you're the better candidate to suck it out of me." After I thought about the logic of what she said, I had to reluctantly agree. She did make sense. So now if I walk in and she's got a sloppy cunt from a condom failure, or forgetfulness on the part of some man she's felt sorry for, I say nothing. I generally sigh with chagrin at the task before me, but immediately get on my knees and bury my face in her sloppy wet, slimy, bushy, sperm-soaked snatch. She thinks I've prevented at least three pregnancies so far. Timing is everything, so I've told her to call or page me (Yes! I got a pager just for that purpose.) so I can rush to meet her to suck out some man's virile jism that somehow managed to get shot off in her unprotected pussy. It really gets me that the guys who use my wife's pussy don't have the decency to put on, or use quality condoms. I do love my wife very much, in spite of her affliction for being detrimentally helpful and good-natured. She's still a very good wife and an excellent mother. I can tell it's her calling to be a good mother. Our pastor has even told us that it was my wife's talent to breed and take care of children. The problem is that it costs so much to raise kids these days. My mother-in-law proposed an idea for a more aggressive strategy toward pregnancy prevention for my "always want to be helpful" wife. I was shocked by her proposal. Besides being extreme, I couldn't fathom her thinking of such a thing. "I haven't discussed it with Jenny. I wanted you to think about and see if you were man enough to embrace this innovative concept," my mom-in-law said. I was reluctant to even think about her idea, even after her continued discussion with me about it and why I should not be ashamed of performing it. After much coercion and nagging me to be decisive and do as she suggested, I decided to try her strategy idea out with several of my closer friends. That is, those that can't seem to come by when I'm at home. I talked to my wife about it, and she thought the approach was wonderful and demonstrated what a wonderful husband I am. You see, my mother-in-law's proposal was for me to offer to suck the cocks of men who are affected by my wife's charms and have aching cocks. The idea being to circumvent them from getting their sperm in my wife. All of them have taken me up on my offer several times, including the pastor of our church. He has routinely asked me to stay after services each Sunday, for the last three years, so that he can relieve his heated erections with my mouth. He says he gets aroused from watching my wife in church services and that my mouthing him makes him resist temptation. He's coated my tonsils with a lot of his heated viscous cum over the years. Another thing, five of our children belong to a combination of the Pastor of our church and the Church Board of Deacons. You see, they are a result of my wife going with the pastor and deacons to semi-annual retreats. After the third pregnancy that she attributed to the retreats, she convinced me that I should accompany them to be a birth control preventive. The Pastor and deacons agreed, but they ruled that I would not be allowed to witness my wife being with them in their retreat services.They use my wife as an example in their recurring retreat series on sexual temptations by church leaders. The purpose is to test the will and resolve of our church leaders to resist carnal temptations of the flesh. As I said earlier, my wife is very religious and is an eager and willing participant in church activities. She and two other wives seem to be always sought after by our church leaders for these retreats. My boss is a deacon in our church, so therefore I had to take that into consideration each time I think about opposing her participation. Many times my boss reminds me personally that he is looking forward to these retreats and how unhappy he would be if my wife didn't participate. I should mention that one of our sons strongly resembles my boss. Jenny even named him after my boss because of his spitting image resemblance. It's possible that my boss could be the real father since he's one of the deacons that had experienced sexual temptation failure with my wife, 9 months prior to our son's birth. My wife has brought our son to my office several times. The boss always beams when she brings in our son, whose Christian name is the same as his. He insisted he become our son's Godfather. Hence, that's another reason I find it difficult to say no to my wife's active participation in the retreat activities. The other wives who participate have husbands whose bosses are also on the Deacon Board. I know each of them and we all have similar personalities. That is, we are easygoing and don't like conflict or confrontations. At the retreat location, the temptation testing involves my wife and the pastor, as well as each deacon. She and one of them have to spend two hours alone in a motel room where there is a TV playing XXX videos. An ample supply of condoms is also placed in the room along with a selection of alcoholic beverages and snacks. She has never said so, but I believe my wife's role is to dress provocatively, that is by wearing scanty lingerie. The actual temptation testing is secret and what I'm writing here is what I've been able to discern over the years in bits and pieces from my wife and the other husbands whose wives participate in the semi-annual event. Even though the pastor and each of the deacons have failed the test each time they were alone with my wife - twice a year for the last seven years - they all agreed that they are becoming more resistant to such temptations. In preparation for these retreats, my Jenny and the other participating wives I mentioned, are told to get off their birth control pills at least 2 months prior to the retreat date. The purpose, I was told, is to increase the seriousness and realistic nature of this temptation testing of our church leaders. The idea that they may impregnate another man's wife and have that permanent flesh and blood symbol of their failure walking around is supposed to cause them to evaluate the further importance of the impact of their failure. However, my opinion is that our church leaders really don't seem to let that bother them, as myself and the other two husbands I mentioned before, have several children by the leaders in our families. Also, the minister comes by to collect and hold all our wives' birth control pills to ensure they abide by this two-month period. He also gets sworn promises from our wives that they won't permit any of us husbands to have intercourse unless we use condoms. I guess the only good news in all this is that he also brings over a large box of condoms for us husbands, courtesy of our church, whenever he comes by to collect our wives' birth control pills. When I was allowed to attend the retreat services at the remote location, I was required to remain in my room while the actual testing was going on in another part of the complex. I was on call in the event of a temptation failure. Each time I've attended the retreat, not only were there temptation failures, but in addition there were numerous split condoms and condoms accidentally slipping off. My boss and the pastor seemed to keep forgetting to put theirs on. Several of the deacons, as well as the pastor, often came by our room, after getting my wife's help in the retreat services, and had me remove the last vestiges of their temptation, for that night anyway, by milking the last bit of cum from their rather large cocks. Since that first time, the pastor has been using me routinely to mouth his rigid arousals. Another thing, it seems like all the men I've sucked to date are all much larger than I. I was also amazed at the size of the residual loads I sucked or milked from the pastor and the deacons. I'm glad I was at the retreats, otherwise all that extra thick hot viscous cum would've ended up in my Jenny. Alas, all plans don't work out too well. She still got pregnant two more times after I started going with her. But she told me that if I hadn't been there we would've had more than those two additions to the family. That was some solace to me. She's currently two months pregnant and the pastor and the deacons still want her at the retreat tomorrow. I'm to drive her up to the remote rural resort. We were already told that there would be no condoms used since she was already inseminated. I didn't see the need for me to attend since she was already with child, that is due to Paul, as I mentioned earlier. However, she and the minister and deacons desired me to accompany her so as to keep in practice at sucking her semen-filled pussy as well as their cocks. The pastor spoke to me about this. "My son, in order for a skill not to become rusty, one must diligently practice it, even when there is no purposeful task at hand to apply it to." I suspect the group will find plenty of practice for me. Additionally, Jenny, besides wanting me to lick her drippy slimy cunt, said she wanted to also see me milking the church leaders' fuck-slime coated cocks, as she'd never seen me suck a dick before. So, anyway, there it is, my story of how my marriage is withstanding the various trials and tribulations caused by the well-intended actions of a loving wife, who is always willing to help others in such an unselfish manner.	null	null	Authors/CDE/CDE_33_Trials_&_Tribulations.txt
82,367	Stevie [email protected]	Susan02_earlyteen_FFm_CD	Yesterday was interesting. Lisa, my wife, left for a week-long course in NYC. I was dressed in my best feminine finery. My neighbors were not around, and their daughter Susan had been knocked off her bike. When she came calling for help, she didn't even flinch when she saw me all dressed up. Things for me just went from bad to worse or good to absolutely incredible, depending on your point of view. To cut a long story to fit in the first paragraph, I shall just say that we had ended up in bed together. Anyway, after my fun session with Susan, I had been tired and had undressed, put on my vintage pink nightie, and went to bed early. I was woken by the dogs barking and someone knocking on the door. I checked the clock, and it was only 6:30 AM. I looked out of the window and, seeing that it was Susan at the door, I decided I didn't need to change before answering the door. She already knew the worst, so there was nothing for me to hide. I went downstairs and opened the door. Susan walked in without hesitation. She looked at my nightie and smiled at me as her mom, Anne, followed her through the door. Anne had been standing under the storm porch when Susan had knocked on the door, then looked up and waved to me when I looked out of the bedroom window. Anne looked me up and down and then commented, "That looks comfy. I haven't got any full-length satin nighties. In fact, I haven't had a full-length nightie since I was 12." She reached over and ran her hand over where my breasts should have been, and then she slowly slid it down to my cock. She rubbed me a little through the nightie and then let go. She pulled up the nightie, reached up underneath the nightie, and slowly squeezed my balls. She started gently at first, then suddenly squeezed really hard, and then just as fast let go as I fell to my knees on the floor. "So you thought you would fuck my 13-year-old daughter, did you? You fucking dirty pervert! I ought to call the police." I was just getting my breath back and begged her not to call the police. "Oh! You want to fuck my daughter without consequences, do you? Well, that's not going to happen. You are going to be punished, so strip! NOW!!! Don't waste my time, you fucking perverted pedo." I hesitated for another second and then took my nightie off. My balls were still aching, and I no longer had an erection. Anne pointed at my crotch and, turning to Susan, said, "I'll bet he had you convinced he was big, but just look at his flaccid little winkie now. Damn, I've seen bigger than that in the children's ward. Did you bring the briefcase with you, Susan?" "Yes, here it is, Mom." "Stand up straight and turn around, you fucking pedo freak." I finished standing up and turned my back to Anne. "Now put your hands behind your back." Again, I did exactly as I was told. By now, I was getting over the pain in my balls and getting fairly hard again. I started to look over my shoulder, but before I had really moved, Anne screamed, "EYES FUCKING FRONT!!!" at me. I snapped back, and as I did, there was a click as, I assume, the briefcase was opened. "Susan! Now go around the front and hold his balls like I showed you. And if he moves, squeeze really hard like I just did." "Okay, Mom!" Susan walked in front of me and reached down and took hold of my balls in her right hand. She gave them a gentle squeeze, and I flinched. Then she put her left hand on my cock and started rubbing her thumb over the end. It took just a few seconds before the precum was starting to ooze. Then I felt Anne reach around my neck and start fastening a leather collar with something hanging behind me. Then she locked it on at the front with a real padlock. She took my left hand and fastened a cuff around my wrist, then pulling it up as high as she could, locked it onto the strap hanging from my neck collar. Then she did the same with my right hand. Next, she slipped a belt around my right elbow, pulled it across in front of my stomach and then around my left elbow. She pulled the end through the buckle and then pulled it tight, pulling my elbows forward and making it totally impossible to move either my hands or arms. Susan let go of me, and they both helped me walk over to the ottoman by the sofa. "Kneel, you child-molesting pervert." I started to kneel, and they both made sure I didn't fall. I felt Anne place leather cuffs on my ankles and then another set just below my knees. Someone forced my knees about 18" apart and locked a steel bar in place so they stayed put. A slightly longer bar was forced between my ankles, making me very uncomfortable. There was some fumbling on the bar between my knees, and then a rope came out from under the ottoman. It was tied to the padlock on my neck collar, and I couldn't move. Anne then walked in front of me and, reaching up her skirt, pulled her panties down and off. "I had these on all day yesterday and all night last night." She folded them so the wet crotch was on the outside and put them in front of my nose to start with. Then she told me to open wide and forced them into my mouth. She held them in place with a ball gag. By now, I was as hard as a rock when I felt something cold and wet being rubbed on my anus. Then Susan walked in front of me and took off her shorts. She started rubbing herself, pushing her panties slightly inside herself, and then bent over, squatted, and shuffled back until my nose was between her ass cheeks. I could smell her and taste her mom's 24-hour-worn panties. Susan took off her panties and pulled them over my head with the crotch right over my nose. The object causing the cold sensation on my asshole was starting to be worked inside me, and at the same time, where it had been rubbed was tingling and getting warmer. "It's an old Victorian punishment, but slightly modified," said Anne. "They take a stem of ginger, then peel and shape it into a small dildo. It is supposed to get very warm and wear off after about 15 minutes. This one has been dipped in minced habanero. It might get a bit hotter and last longer. Dave loves it; he can usually manage 5 minutes or so before he uses the safe word. But you don't have a safeword, do you? I'll pull it out when I think you have suffered enough." It was already burning quite badly, not yet painful but not far off. I could feel it being worked in and out. Then whoever was moving it stopped. WHACK! I winced as I felt my ass get its first whack with what turned out to be a riding crop. That took my mind off the burning sensation for a few seconds. WHACK! Again, I winced. This time it was harder. I got another 48 whacks before they stopped. The tears were running down my face, soaking Susan's panties and making them even more aromatic. The more pain, the more I got turned on. Then there was a slap on my balls, and I'm sure my cock ran away and hid. By now, the burning was getting really bad. I pushed as hard as I could and popped out the ginger finger. I thought it would be put back, but that wasn't to be. I felt Anne lube my ass a little, and the next thing I felt was something hard about the size of my pinky being pushed just inside, then something slid out of the end of it, and it was pulled out again. "You want to be a sissy; it's about time you found out about tampons," said Susan. Anne spoke now, softly, and said, "You aren't really in trouble with me. Susan does what she does. But I do like being in charge. Lisa was quite amused when Susan told her how she found you dressed. But she was pissed you had used her clothes. You'll have to answer for that when she gets back. I'm going to leave you there for a while until we have put the pictures we took onto your New Sissy Website. Lisa, Susan, and I will have the password; you will not be able to update or delete anything from the site." With that, Anne and Susan walked over to the PC. About 15 minutes later, they came back. Susan started by undoing the strap between my neck and knees. Then she took off the bar between my ankles and the one between my knees. They helped me kneel and laid me down on the floor.Anne started rubbing me until I got hard again and then started to masturbate me. I was close to coming when she stopped. Susan pulled her panties off my head and put them on me. Now I could see they had a video and a still camera on a tripod and were filming and photographing everything. She pulled the panties up so they were on me properly, then moved so they could film the action. She started rubbing me through the panties and as she did, she said, "You know you said you would show me why mom liked sitting on dad's face. Well, I already know, and I'm going to sit on your face now. I know you are gagged, but it will make it really nice for you to come." She knelt up and then climbed over me, then sat down on my face with her asshole right over my nose. Finally, she started masturbating me, and I came really quickly. I was laid there wearing Susan's panties, soaked in my cum. I was gagged with her mom's panties and basically helpless. Then Anne started masturbating me again. At the same time, she gently pulled on the string from the tampon hanging out of my ass. As it slowly popped out, she would push it back with her finger. This went on for about 3 minutes, by which time I was completely drained, and the panties were totally soaked. They helped me sit up and removed the ball gag, took out Anne's panties from my mouth, and undid my wrists. I started to stand up, and once I was upright, I went to take off Susan's panties. "Nooooooo, you don't," she said. "You have to wear them all day as is, WET. No bath, no nothing." From now on, you do as you're told by Lisa, me, or Susan. "We'll be back in a few hours. I'll leave you to clean up and wash all the clothes you had on yesterday. Before we go, you can make both Susan and I happy for the day, with your tongue, so lay down, it's facesitting time again." Susan took about 10 minutes, Anne about another 30 minutes. By the time I was done, I was exhausted and the happiest guy on the planet.	null	null	Authors/Switch_1066/Susan/Susan02.txt
82,673	null	null	You looked down at Sara and Rebecca, who were both on their knees before you. They both wore only ponytails, and you smiled down at them. "Today, we are going to teach Sara some new tricks, yes?" You asked, circling them as you spoke. You lifted Rebecca's head with your hand and looked into her eyes, willing your mind upon hers. "Yes, Master," Rebecca answered, her eyes already beginning to glaze over. You took your cock in one hand and stroked it a little in Rebecca's face, and you could see her body tense and her breathing become deep. You placed the head of your semi-hard cock on her lips. Obediently, she opened her mouth and flicked her tongue towards the head of your cock, and you leaned forward, shoving it into her mouth. She closed her lips and moaned in her throat as the warm liquid began to flow from you down into her belly. She swallowed hungrily, her eyes lost in a sea of submission. "You love drinking piss, don't you, you little piss slut?" "Yes, Master," Rebecca said, after you withdrew your cock. She looked longingly at it. "What are you?" "I'm your piss slut, Master," Rebecca's voice was a trembling whisper, full of lust, longing and possession. You stroked your hand along the side of Rebecca's face and gave her right cheek a soft slap. She shivered and moaned, leaning her face into your hand. You pushed her away and stepped to the side, and your sub's pretty blue eyes floated to the floor, lonely. You stood before Sara and glared down at the girl. She trembled slightly, unsure of herself. You shoved your cock into her lips, and she parted them slightly, licking the head and tasting remnants of the urine Rebecca hadn't cleaned off. The young brunette wrinkled her nose and backed away, licking her lips to remove the taste from them. You grabbed Sara's ponytail and shoved her face into your crotch. You told her to smell you, and you ran her nose along your sex, between your thighs, and you had to spread your legs a little as you stood there with her hair in your fist. You could hear her gulping, and felt moisture on your leg, so you tugged back on her head and saw a few small tears glistening down her face. Something inside you moved, tingled, at the sight of the tears. They are so beautiful. Even more so when they are streaming down the face of a fifteen-year-old over-sexed slut-in-training. However, you didn't want to scar the poor girl, so you asked her if she would feel more comfortable with Rebecca helping her through the process. After the teenager nodded, you motioned for Rebecca to move over towards Sara, and she complied. It didn't take you long to get them in the perfect position. Sara and Rebecca were facing each other, both kneeling, their bellies flat and touching. Their breasts pushed against each other's and their faces were cheek to cheek, so that both girls faced you. Sara's hands were around Rebecca's waist, and were bound together; Rebecca had the same thing done with her hands around Sara. Then, you had looped an old belt around their waists and pulled it taut, pushing the two females into one entity. Each one had her legs partially spread, and they were intertwined; Rebecca was kneeling over one of Sara's legs, and Sara over one of Rebecca's. Each girl leaked cunt juice onto the other's thigh. Satisfied, you stepped back to look at your creation. Beautiful. You grabbed up your digital camera and took a few pictures, the girls trembling with desire at each click. Rebecca started to shake, her eyes closed and her breathing stopped. With flushed skin, she silently came and exhaled deeply. A quiet "Thank you, Master" followed. "You're welcome, slut," You said to her, loving how easily your little cum-bucket can gain pleasure from your activities. Setting the camera down, you walked over to the girls, and again stroked your cock into their faces. Both mouths opened, tongues poking through soft, wet lips, eager and welcoming your cock. You rested the head of your cock against Rebecca's lips and let your piss steam out in a small burst. She opened wide, gulping, licking, trying to get it all in her mouth; but she didn't swallow it. Instead, she turned her head and kissed Sara, close-mouthed. Slowly, the older woman worked the teen into an open-mouth kiss, and with her tongue, pushed some of her Master's piss into Sara's mouth. The girl was so into the kiss with her older playmate that she eagerly drank down the warm liquid without thought or revulsion. You let more go, and the stream hit the girls as they kissed. They turned to you with their mouths open, and tried to lap up as much of the piss as they could as it streamed into their mouths, down their faces, and over their breasts. By the time you were done pissing on them, even their cunts dripped liquid gold. Rebecca turned to face Sara and began to lick your piss off the younger girl's face and neck. Cock still in hand, you jacked yourself a bit, feeling it grow at the sight of your mistress licking your piss off a fifteen-year-old. You needed to cum, badly. You untied Rebecca's hands and helped the girls to stand. Then, you laid Sara on her back on the bed, with Rebecca lying on Sara, still bound to her. They hung close to the edge of the bed, and you stood behind them. With a force driven by animalistic need, you shoved your hard cock deep into Sara and pounded her relentlessly for a full five minutes. You pulled out of the young one and plunged deep into Rebecca's cunt; it didn't take long before the woman was silently cumming once again. You took turns pounding each girl for a few strokes, easing your cock from one wet cunt to the other, and eventually your need grew so strong you had to release. You undid the belt, untied Sara's hands and rolled Rebecca off the pretty brunette. "I'm going to cum in you, baby. First, I want you to cum for me, and then I'm going to cum in you. Do you know why?" You breathed heavily as you fucked her tight teenage pussy. She shook her head. "I'm going to fill your flat little belly up with my seed. What comes after that, little slut?" You pushed her further up on the bed, crawled between her legs and leaned down over her, so you could give her a small kiss on the lips. "I... I will get pregnant...?" She mused aloud, choosing the only answer that made sense to her at the time. Her breathing became harder as you pushed your cock deeper and deeper. You could tell she was getting close, so you continued on steadily as she grabbed your shoulders and threw her head as far back as the bed would allow. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she came, and she moaned loudly. "Thank you... Master?" She'd never used the title before, but followed Rebecca's earlier lead and tried it on. "You're very welcome, slut. And yes... you will get pregnant." You kept a steady pace, thrusting in and out, and images of the young Sara with the pooch of a six-months-pregnant belly danced in your head. "I can have your baby? I will grow big with your baby in me..." She rolled the thought over. She wasn't sure if she wanted to have a baby at fifteen, but the thought of this man's blood in her womb gave her thrills. "Yes, baby. Yes. You can have my baby." You tightened your body, grunted and let go, spilling your cum inside her precious, fertile womb. You leaned in, gave her another soft kiss on the mouth, and then rolled off, smiling. Sara and Rebecca stayed lying on the bed, awaiting your commands.	null	null	Authors/Euterpe/sara-5.txt
82,731	Aaror	Redneck Sorcerer 01	You know, if before the invasion someone had told me that soon I would be casting spells, getting anything I wanted from any girl I fancied, and fighting demons, well, I guess I would have asked for a shot of whatever they were drinking. Still, now everything is different, isn't it? I mean, if I get too frustrated, one of them Succubi is gonna take my brain and turn me into a thrall, and since I'm a mage, that is really bad, so just about any woman will jump to keep me happy. Of course, most women will keep any guy happy nowadays, don't want the Succubi getting more shock troops, right? But with me, it is different, they know they might have a mage baby with me, I guess. Patrols are weird, mostly boredom interspersed with terror. You never know when some Succubus will find a group of horny men and try to take over a block. Women are starting to learn to stay active all the time, and men are learning to put away jealousy, but it is hard for everyone. Anyway, here is my story. There were only five people in the diner that night, the TV was on more for noise than anything, but that new manned mission to Venus happened to be on. Suddenly there was a bunch more noise, and Frank started to pay attention. "Nose up, nose up! God damn it, why is he on manual. Someone kill the override and get that ship back on computer control." The camera view from the nose of the spacecraft was getting foggy, yellow clouds wafted around the ship. An altimeter was showing next to the display, showing the rapid descent of the spaceship. Suddenly the clouds cleared, and the view showed a peaceful and pastoral scene. Fields, roads, and a large building resembling a medieval castle. The pilot aimed the ship at one of the roads leading to the castle, and the ship landed with a thump. 5 Beautiful women approached the ship, and then the camera showed the pilot walking towards them, removing his spacesuit helmet in wonder. Seeing him removing his helmet, and perhaps misunderstanding the gesture, the women all slid the shoulder straps of their gowns off their arms, revealing every inch of their flawless skin. Frank wondered if the network censors would cut it off, but the live feed kept showing. He heard the Astronaut, Tom-something, saying "We didn't think there would be a breathable atmosphere here," in wonder. One of the women spoke, "Our kind was banished here millennia ago, but now the veil is parted." She gestured at the other women, who began to run gracefully towards the castle. "Soon we will rejoin you on Earth, but for now, come with me and enjoy our hospitality." The next day Frank learned that that astronaut, Thomas Howell, hadn't checked back in with NASA. Over the next couple of months things got really weird around the world, and finally the President said we were being invaded. Churches said the invaders were demons, and Frank reckoned they were right. The problem was, the military would send a platoon of national guard (the Army was mostly already captured) to confront one of them women, and the platoon would change sides, just like that. Bases and towns were falling right and left, and Frank heard that a lot of countries down south had already gone to the demons entirely. Seemed like the end times were here. Then someone said that sex had something to do with the troops leaving, and the President drafted all the hookers in the nation. Next thing you know, troops were getting blow-jobs before they went to face the demons, and gosh darn it if it didn't work! Frank had been having a hard time at home too, he lived alone, but he kept finding his stuff moved around the house. Then one day he wanted a bottle opener for his beer, and it floated to him from the kitchen. That's when he realized he was the one moving stuff. He'd heard that some of those pagan kids were using magic against the demons, but he was a good Christian man. Still, he'd best find the pastor and ask for help. "Hey Father Hills? I got a problem, and I'm probably headed to hell, but I figured I'd see if you could help me." "Oh Frank, don't talk that way, you drink a little too much, but I've never seen you hit anyone without justification, you aren't a sinner." The Pastor reassured him. "That ain't what I'm talking about," Frank said, and plucked one of the candles off the table with his mind. "I think I got a devil in me." While the Pastor looked suitably shocked, his response confused Frank. "Bless the lord!" Seeing the expression on Frank's face, Father Hills explained, "You have been blessed by God, sent to help us fight the demons. We have learned that the pagans were kept with us by God to teach us in our hour of need." Frank wasn't too sure of what the pastor was telling him, but the guy was a man of the cloth, and knew better than he where souls and God were concerned. Still, the idea of fighting demons sounded scary, especially when those demons were protected by guys with M-16s. Still, he knew his duty, and he wasn't going to say no to his church, so he marched (as best as he was able) down to the recruiter and signed up-as an officer if you believe it! Apparently any mage was commissioned for some reason or other. So they mixed an officer training program with a crash course in magic, and watching the interaction between a bunch of young goth mages (with LT and Captain bars) and a bunch of Sergeants would have been hilarious-if Frank had any time to laugh. Four times a day they got marched into a room with a bunch of women, and you could get a handjob, a blow, or...well, Frank wasn't used to getting that sort of thing from anyone he wasn't dating, it kinda felt wrong. Still, when a willing woman is doing her best to make you feel good, you don't insult her by saying no, even if he had wanted to. After training was done, he could throw fire and lightning, make shields in the air, and lift a truck with his mind, among other things. The last training he got was really weird. He was taught to make this glowing thing in the air, based on his Sigil (every wizard came up with a mark that only they used, it was like a magical signature, his seemed like a bowl with a candy cane sticking out of the top-and he had no clue how he came up with it). Any woman who saw a mage make a Sigil would have to do anything he asked. Actually, any man would too, don't ask don't tell didn't apply to mages, but Frank had absolutely NO interest in that. So he went into town, his first leave since signing up, with his uniform robes (why pants interfered with spells he sure didn't know) and bright new gold bars. He went into a bar, just planning on getting a drink, and saw several women eying him hungrily. He knew a lot of menfolk had been taken by the demons, but he didn't realize what that would mean to all the women left behind. He later found out that the government had stopped paying for "special services" for the troops since money wasn't needed as an incentive anymore. A blonde and a Latina both sidled up to him, then looked at each other. Frank didn't know if they were about to fight over him or what, so he figured to do the only thing he could. He made his mark in the air, and they both looked at him expectantly. So he turned to the bartender, "Hey lady, do you have a back room or something?" She sassed him good, "I do, but why can't you do it right here? No one will complain." Now Frank hadn't heard a girl complain about his equipment, but he wasn't too sure about getting it out in front of all these women. Still, he wasn't about to be shown up by this old broad. "Fine," he looked at the two girls who had been brave enough to come up to him, "What are your names?" "Sabrina," the blonde said. "Sasha," the Latina breathed. "OK, Sabrina, strip Sasha's clothes off for me." Frank said. The blonde looked disappointed, so he reassured her, "I want to watch both of you strip-so you strip her, then I'll have her strip you." Sabrina went up to the Latina, and gave her a French kiss, which surprised Frank, but he supposed with men in short supply, girls might need to help each other out. Then Sabrina knelt in front of Sasha and pulled the girl's tight black leather pants slowly down her legs, revealing the contrast of black panties and mocha skin. As Sasha stepped out of her pants, Sabrina untied the front of her halter, allowing the two sides to fall open, revealing C cup breasts-and not revealing tan lines. Sabrina went around behind Sasha, kissing her tenderly on the neck, before sliding her body down the darker-skinned woman and peeling off her panties. Sasha kicked the panties across the room, and set her foot down a couple feet from the other one, giving Frank a nice view of a neatly trimmed triangle of black bush. She glared at the other women in the room, daring them to say anything, knowing they all wished they could be her, about to get an officer-even if it did look like she'd have to share. Sasha then turned to Sabrina, and began to unbutton her white shirt. After undoing the top button, she switched to the bottom buttons, and after each button she would kiss Sabrina's neck.Sabrina's hands made spasming motions as she seemed to struggle against either helping to undress herself or crushing the other girl to her. When all of the buttons were undone, a durable white bra was revealed. Sabrina smiled apologetically at Frank, "Double D's, if I don't wear a sturdy bra, it hurts." Sasha then reached for Sabrina's schoolgirl skirt, but instead of taking it off, she reached underneath and slowly pulled down thong panties that matched the bra - in color if not in construction. Sasha then carefully tucked the bottom of the skirt into the waistband, revealing to all that Sabrina was a natural blonde - with just a small landing strip to prove it. Sasha was almost reverent as she unclasped the bra, putting her face between the large globes. As she pulled the bra off, she weighed one breast with her hand, then captured the nipple of the other breast in her mouth. Sabrina gasped and closed her eyes, cradling Sasha's head with both hands. Sasha reached for the zipper of Sabrina's skirt while her mouth explored the other woman, and it slipped to the floor. Frank was about to burst, but he wanted both girls to enjoy it. "Both of you, undo my pants and suck." He hoped he could come quickly, then give both girls at least a decent ride. The two girls looked at each other, then walked up to him almost in formation. As they both dropped to their knees, Sasha hiked his robes up and Sabrina pulled his briefs down to his knees. Both women took turns, and he gasped, "I'm not gonna last long, I just wanted some stamina for the main event." The women seemed to accept this and redoubled their efforts. Once his immediate desires were fulfilled, they continued to tease him with their tongues, eventually allowing him to recover. "Why don't the two of y'all 69, and I will plug whoever is on top. Once she comes, you can flip over." The girls seemed to agree with the plan, and he was soon enjoying turning Sabrina into a sex sandwich. The other women in the bar watched hungrily, but seemed to realize his stamina would be limited. Once Sabrina was pulsing and moaning under him, he pulled back, and the girls re-arranged themselves with Sasha on top. It was close, but she came just before he did. Frank looked at the other women in the bar, and then down at his deflated member, and said "Sorry ladies, these two did too good a job." He ordered a beer, but ended up finishing it quickly so he could get away from the stares. Walking around the town, he saw lots of women, but only a few men. At one point he saw an old guy getting head from a black woman while a brunette caressed his back and shoulders. He wondered if women were taking care of men to fight the war, or just because the supply of men was so low? Then he saw a beautiful woman, gesturing him closer. She had flawless pale skin and long midnight black hair. She was wearing a black corset and panties, and nothing else. He wasn't sure if this was just advertising or unusual, but he wondered over to check her out. "Come for me," she purred, and he felt his loins pulse, but as recently as he had been drained, it didn't do much. He saw her frown, then she pulled a dagger from her hair. "Expulsi Arcto," he shouted, and a blast of icy fragments slammed her into a wall. Some of the fragments had penetrated both her skin and the wall, pinning her in place. She stared at him with hatred. "You could have had me, any time you wanted, and you chose death," she hissed. Noting the flames that were beginning to melt his ice spell, he made a rapid decision. "Shatter!" The ice fragments exploded, pulverizing the woman's flesh beyond recognition. "Yes, I chose death, yours bitch," he commented. Crap, now he would have to fill out paperwork, and flowery sentences weren't his strong suit. He located what he figured was most of her head, put it in a carry spell, and walked back to base. "Sir! What'cha got there?" The sentry had clearly recognized his robes, and the gory trophy floating behind him. "Did'ja get one?" "Yeah, she tried to seduce me, but this pair at the bar had already drained me, saved my life. Maybe I should invite them to a thank you party..." "They'd probably enjoy that, sir," the sentry said, then saluted smartly and let him by. "Um, sir, I kinda need to phone that in." "Go ahead, do your duty," Frank reassured the young man, then added, "Hey, um, I've never, uh, where do I take it?" Frank's training had included taking the head off any demon he bagged if he could, and something about delivering it to research or something, but he had no clue where on base that was. "Sir, just go up Patton Ave, turn left on Washington, and it's the second building on the right." "Thanks, soldier," Frank replied, before walking in the indicated direction. A bored female watched him come in, "Another one?" She asked before grabbing a plastic bin and gesturing at it. After he dropped his gory trophy in the bin, she looked him up and down. "You need relief?" "Oh, um, I just got some a bit before the demon tried to get me." "Yeah, but the Succubi always prime you, if someone doesn't take care of you, well, you won't be safe." Saying this, the dumpy woman came around the desk and raised his robes. "Nice," she said as she pulled his undershorts to his ankles. She bobbed her head on him for a few strokes, then flipped up her green skirt to reveal a lack of panties. She bent over her desk and looked back at him invitingly. She wasn't the most attractive girl he had enjoyed, but she was clearly willing, and seemed to be right about his needs. Soon he was enjoying her on her desk, as she screamed "oh yes, oh god yes," over and over again. She kept coming, but he had some stamina from all the activity he had already had in the last hour, so it took him a good while to finish. When he did, she turned, saluted smartly, and said "Thank you, Sir!" Shaking his head in bemusement, Frank walked out of the office and back to his bunk. He hadn't even started combat operations.	null	null	Authors/Aaror/Succubus Chronicles/Redneck_Sorcerer_01.txt
82,912	Mike Stone	In The Life of Mike Stone Part 19	You ever have one of those days when everything seems to happen at once? Well, let me tell you about my day. My secretary Cassie (who is also one of my "wives") and I found a place for our telephone survey company. This new company will be a front for exchanging coded information for family sex groups. I already have a list of six people to hire. Each one of these six people will be speaking in code during the course of the day. I signed the rental papers and am now slowly moving in. Cassie met me in my empty office. We took our clothes off, and Cassie sucked my cock as I told her some of the things we would need at the moment. Cassie braced herself against the wall as I fucked her from behind. "Who's your daddy?" I asked her. "You are, Mike!" Cassie said to me. "Who's your boss?" I asked Cassie as I was getting close. "You are my master, Mike, and I love you!" "Well, you just earned a boner!" I said as I shot my hot cum inside my employee. We then got dressed and said, "Let's get some lunch at Toro Taco." Later that afternoon, Ryan, Skylar, and Sierra were at lacrosse practice, but Cassie's kids, Ashley (nine) and Adam (five), were home as they are staying with us until school is out for the summer. My "daughter" Tiffany was at the house to fix dinner as Cassie was going over business papers and emails. "Daddy, mom and I are glad to be part of the family," Tiffani's words made me happy. I took Tiffany by the hand, and we went to the bedroom. Now on the bed, I began to lick Tiffani's young, smooth pussy as I ran my hands all over her sexy teenage body. "Mmm, daddy... that feels so good, mmm, yeah." My fourteen-year-old slut spoke the truth. "Please fuck me, daddy, I have a lot of work to do." She sure knows what she wants! I was now on top of Tiffani as I pumped my rock-hard cock deep inside her. "Uh, uh, fuck me hard, daddy, make me cum!" Tiffani was now cumming as I was getting close. "Tiffi, I'm cumming! Arrrgh!!!" I came for the second time that day. I looked up and saw that Ashley and Adam were in the room. "You two, get up here," I told my "new" kids. I got off Tiffani and then told Ashley and Adam to lick their "sister" clean. "Now you save some for your brother!" "Yes, daddy." As I watched Cassie's kids eat out Tiffani, I thought to myself, a year ago, I was back in my hometown and had just started to chat with Kim and her girls. It was just past midnight as all the kids were in Jasmine's bed. Early in the evening, I had just picked up the kids from lacrosse, when we got home, my almost-son Johnny called me on my cell phone. Johnny was at the police station. About two weeks ago, Johnny picked up a "side job" keeping tabs on a young woman who was being stalked. Kendra had just got off work and was walking to her car when Larry Cole walked up to her. "Hey, you, leave me alone!" Kendra ordered the man. "Look, baby, I just want to talk," Larry said. "You're not supposed to even be this close to me, now leave!" Kendra was now very afraid. "Hey, dude, leave her alone!" Johnny said to the loser. "You stay out of this, I'm trying to talk to my girlfriend," Larry said to Johnny. Larry then got into Johnny's face, big mistake! Johnny used his skills as a mixed martial arts fighter to subdue Larry Cole. So here we were after midnight in the dining room. Johnny and Jasmine sat next to each other as Cassie gave the twenty-two-year-old U.S. Marine a back rub. Johnny was pretty much off the hook. "Dad, Jasmine and I have been talking, and we're getting our own place," Johnny was right, with Cassie and her kids staying with us, the house is now crowded. "So are you looking now?" Kim asked. "Yes, daddy, we're looking at apartments close by," Jasmine said to me. "Um, I'd like to have a word with Mike, please," Kim said to our "big kids" and her "sister wife." Kim and I sat alone at the table. "Mike, I put in my notice at the club today," Kim's words shocked me. "With your new job starting, I think it's best that I stay home and take care of things." Kim was right, we have a full house, and Kim would still fuck on the web, and she is due to make a porn video soon. "I'm not mad at you, but I wish you had told me about it first," I said to my bride-to-be. We both went upstairs as Johnny, Jasmine, and Cassie were in a hot three-way! Spring was around the corner as we were halfway through March. Cassie and I picked office supplies for the call center and were back home by three o'clock in the afternoon. Johnny was given the day off from his job serving warrants for the county. Since Johnny has a cage fight coming up, he went to the gym to train. With Kim and Jasmine at the club and half our kids at lacrosse, it's just Cassie and her kids and myself for the afternoon. Ashley told me that she's made a new friend at school. Jaden, a nine-year-old, is Ashley's new friend. Ashley says that Jaden is a slut! Ashley brought Jaden home after school. I was wearing a Pittsburgh Penguins t-shirt and nothing else. "You must be Jaden," I said to the little sweetie as she looked at my cock. "Here's my phone, you may call home." Jaden took my phone and called her mother, and I then spoke to her mom, and she would pick up Jaden after seven p.m. The girls went upstairs to play. I was rock hard after seeing Jaden. Adam was watching cartoons as Cassie was returning emails. I was so horny, Ashley brought Jaden home for me to play with! I went upstairs to the girls' room. I found both nine-year-olds naked and licking each other's pussies! Jade looked at my rock-hard cock as I took off my shirt. Jaden sat up on Sierra's bed as I put the tip of my cock in the nine-year-old's mouth. I could tell that Jaden has been sucking cock for a while now. "Suck it, suck it, sweetie!" I told my third-grade lover. I then sat down next to Jaden and played with her pussy. "That feels good, Mr. Mike," Jaden said to me. I could not stand it anymore, I began to lick Jaden's sweet little pussy. The little girl had no hymen. I made Jaden cum as I sucked her hairless pussy! Cassie and Adam came up to watch. Cassie sat nude on Skylar's bed and jerked off to Jaden and me as Adam fucked Ashley from behind next to his mother. I rubbed my cock against Jaden's pussy 'till I shot my hot load on Jaden's belly! Ashley then licked up my cum and then shared my load with Jaden as they kissed. Cassie knew how to handle this better than me. Jaden said that her mom's boyfriend "plays" with her, and Jaden also says that her mom and uncle fuck! But I had broken a rule, no sex behind each other's back! And I was not to make a "move" on a child that was not "cleared" by Kim. Cassie was able to get more information out of Jaden, she also "plays" with a couple of other men and older boys. We all had some playtime 'till I had to pick up the kids from lacrosse. Jaden's mom came by just after seven that night. When Kim and Jasmine came home, Cassie and I had a long talk with Kim. Kim was pissed that I was with a little girl we didn't know. Cassie calmed Kim down as Cassie pointed out that Jaden is from an "open" family. We all went to bed. Saturday is St. Patrick's Day or, as I call it, "St. Panties's Day," and I'm looking forward to it!	MF, Mf, Mgg	Part 19	Authors/Mike_Stone/In The Life of Mike Stone Part 19 MF, Mf, Mgg.txt
83,242	Honey Moon	Sweet Tales of Honey	Yuri looked at Honey, hands on hips. "I can't believe you said that, Hilda Anderson!" Honey was shocked, Yuri was really mad. She never called her Hilda! Honey didn't mean to hurt Yuri's feelings. They were online, looking at porno sites, when Honey had said, "Japanese women do the weirdest things online! Their pictures are always the nastiest!" Honey felt so ashamed of herself. She had never heard Yuri yell at anyone like that before. "I, I'm sorry Yuri! I didn't mean that!" "Then why did you say it?" Yuri turned to the door. "I have to go to the bank now. I'll see you tomorrow!" She closed the door quietly, but to Honey, it sounded like a slam! Honey wiped the tears from her eyes. She just had to get Yuri to forgive her! She ran outside, and jumped on her bike, pedaling hard to catch up. Great! She spotted Yuri entering the bank. Honey threw down her bike and ran past the large black van parked just outside the door. Honey ran in and grabbed Yuri's arm. Before she could say anything, Yuri screamed and shoved her to the floor. Honey was stunned. She heard what sounded like firecrackers going off, and Yuri fell on top of her. Then a man all in black demanded all the bank's money. In seconds it was over. "Yuri, I think he's gone, you can get up now!" Honey rolled her friend over and couldn't comprehend what she was seeing. "Yuri, please wake up! It's ok now, he left!" Officer Neil Miller was on the force ten years now, and he never got used to this. He felt like his heart was breaking as he pulled the pretty young girl from her still friend. It didn't look like much, the small red stain on the blouse of the little oriental girl, but it signaled the end of one life and the terrible change of another. He held the struggling girl tight. All he could say was, "I'm so sorry!" It wasn't enough, it never was, but nobody knew the right words at a time like this. In the weeks following the funeral, Honey was like a different girl. She didn't talk to anyone and would hardly eat anything. One day, Dr. and Mrs. Anderson ran upstairs in a panic. They had heard a loud crash. They found Honey sitting on the floor, crying, smashing her precious collection of Japanese animation, one tape at a time. Mrs. Anderson grabbed her. "Honey, Stop it!" Honey gave no sign of hearing; she pulled away and smashed another tape against the floor. "Honey-Chan! I said that's enough!" Honey whirled around, enraged, and slapped her mother's face. "Don't you call me that!" She screamed. "Only Yuri calls me that!" Honey grabbed her mother and hugged her tight. "Oh Mommy, I'm so sorry! I killed her! If we didn't fight she'd be here now!" "Baby, I know you don't believe it now, but the pain will go away." Molly Anderson felt the tears stinging her eyes. She would give anything to make her daughter feel better, but didn't know where to begin. Late that night, Dr. Anderson slipped into a pair of black slacks and a black sweatshirt. He quietly slipped into his daughter's room and kissed her cheek. "Don't worry, sweetheart," He whispered. "Daddy will fix everything." Just as he was slowly opening the front door, the lights came on. "Billy, where are you going?" "Go back to bed, Molly. I'll be back soon!" Molly's eyes grew large. "Billy, what are you doing!" Dr. Anderson took a deep breath. "She's too young to feel the loss of a loved one! I'm going back! I can fix it!" "Oh my God! You can't!" Molly remembered the frantic days they had when an experiment went wrong, and Honey was sent twenty-two years back in time. "You told me it was too dangerous! That it was pure luck that kept Honey from dying, and nobody would be able to replicate the initiation codes! That's why the government sealed your lab!" (please read, "Honey Four: It's about time") Bill punched the doorframe. "Fuck the government!" He went on in a quiet voice. "I told them that so they wouldn't try to pervert it into a weapons delivery system! I can make it work, I have to!" Molly kissed her husband. "Oh Bill, could it really? I can't stand seeing her in such pain!" "Molly, whatever happens, know that I love you!" He grabbed his lovely wife and held her tight. "If I succeed, you'll never know anything happened!" Molly kissed him; she never loved him more than in this moment. "What will happen to you?" Bill smiled, and kissed his wife once more, then slipped out the door. He couldn't tell her what he didn't know himself. Dr. Anderson drove to his son's apartment. He saw the lights were on and tapped lightly on the door. "Will, it's your father," He quietly announced. Will opened the door and let his dad come in. "Is Honey alright?" Will noticed his father looking at his computer and hurried to shut off the monitor. He had been working, every moment of spare time he had, trying to reconstruct the initiation code sequence that would allow his father's matter transporter to be used as a time machine. Dr. Anderson looked his son in the eye. "Dad, I have to try! Don't you see that?" "I know, son, but that will never work!" Will looked stricken. Dr. Anderson put his hand on his son's shoulder. "You'll never replicate my work." He smiled slightly. "But you don't need to." He tapped his forehead. "I have it all right here! Son, I need your help!" Will grabbed his father's hand. "Yes, Sir! I'll do anything to help Honey!" The two set right to work; they had some preparations to make. Dr. Anderson gathered up newspaper reports about the bank robbery. He planned to try to convince the bank manager to close the bank, just for one day. Will handed him a document he shouldn't have even had. "Bring this, dad. It's the medical examiner's report. It has his signature on it. They may accept this over newspaper clippings." "I won't ask how you got this, but thanks, son." Will went to his bedroom and, without a word, handed his father a .45. Dr. Anderson nodded and slipped the gun into the pocket of his trench coat. Dr. Anderson pulled up to the main gate at Magnadyne Research and Development. "What about the security system, dad?" Will jerked a thumb at the cameras covering the grounds of the building. "Smile, big brother is watching!" Dr. Anderson laughed quietly. "Who do you think oversaw the installation?" He keyed in a code he thought he would never need. "The system is now on a two-hour loop. That should be more than enough time!" Will and his father hurried to the lab and wasted no time inputting the proper code strings. Dr. Anderson put on an old fishing cap and pulled the brim down over his eyes. It wasn't much of a disguise, but if someone saw him materialize, he should be hard to identify. "Dad," Will sounded worried. "What about the dimensional interface? Honey never knew how close she was to freezing to death. What if it shifts farther out of phase? You could be frozen solid or incinerated!" "I'm only traveling three weeks. I should be okay. Honey went twenty-two years and survived! Now, son, I don't care what happens. This is a one-shot attempt. If I don't return, destroy this machine! We can't let anyone suspect it's actually functional!" Will took a step towards his father. "Dad, let me go! You're needed here!" He stepped closer, planning to overpower his father and take his place. "No!" Dr. Anderson bellowed, gun suddenly in his hand. He smiled kindly at his son. "I know you're brave, and I expected this. I can't let anyone take this risk instead of me! Power it up now! Or I'll destroy it, and nobody goes!" Will had no choice; he keyed in the final code. With a last nod, Dr. Anderson put the gun back in his pocket and threw himself into the black void in the glowing archway. Icy fingers grabbed at him, then suddenly, he was blinking back tears from the bright midday sun. He was standing, as planned, in the alley beside the Parkway Diner, just across the street from the bank. He could clearly see the glowing digits of the bank's large clock, showing the time and date. "Dear God, no!" He had meant to arrive a full day in advance. He only had ten minutes! His mind went into overdrive; he had to work fast! He looked around himself and spotted a greasy old cast-iron skillet in the diner's trash. He pulled off his coat and stuck the skillet up the back of his sweatshirt, and used an old length of clothesline to cinch it tightly in place. He put his coat back on and ran for the bank. With any luck, nobody would notice the odd lump on his back. "Oh shit!" He cried in despair. The clock must be wrong! He watched Honey riding up on her bike. Bill never ran this fast in his life! He was racing with death, and he had to win! Dr. Anderson raced past a large black van, just as someone dressed all in black stepped out. Bill entered the bank, just steps behind his daughter. Yuri spotted him and looked startled as Bill shoved his daughter hard, into her friend, knocking them both down. He heard the gunshot and felt like somebody kicked him in the back. His hand went to his pocket. He spun around and looked right into the eyes of the bank robber. He saw nothing but hate there.The man raised his gun once more, but Bill was quicker. The gun jerked in his hand and the would-be robber fell to the floor and lay still. Dr. Anderson kicked the gun away from the motionless hand, just like in all the cop shows. He took one look at the two girls and saw them holding each other in fear. Bill ran from the bank as he heard the approaching sirens. Thank goodness, the gateway was still open! He dove through it, just before the cops spotted him. Honey held Yuri tight, she was so scared. "Yuri, are you okay?" "I'm fine, Honey-Chan!" Honey felt a great weight lift from her heart. "Are you alright?" Yuri gently touched Honey's face, just under her eye. Honey gasped from the pain. Her eye was already turning an amazing shade of purple from the collision with Yuri's head. "Honey-Chan!" Yuri nearly shouted. "You need a doctor!" "I'm okay, Yuri!" Honey said, kissing her friend deeply. "I deserve a black eye for making you so angry!" "Oh Honey-Chan! I could never stay mad at you!" The lovely little Japanese girl went on in a quiet voice. "Besides, making up is so much fun!" Officer Neil Miller never saw anything like it in ten years on the force. While everyone's attention was on the dead gunman on the bank floor, he had been watching the two teenage girls comforting each other. He saw them kissing, gently sucking each other's tongues. Finally, he had to interrupt to do his job. "Young lady, come with me. The paramedics need to take a look at that eye." The young schoolgirls blushed and followed him, hand in hand. The paramedics determined Honey needed to go to the hospital to be checked out. Her eye had swollen nearly shut. Once they discovered it was Yuri's head that caused the damage, they took her in for a complete skull series of x-rays. Neil watched as the ambulance drove away. He was looking forward to questioning those two later and went the rest of the day with an almost painful erection. His wife, much later that night, was pleased and surprised at his amazing stamina. The doctors had insisted the girls stay overnight for observation; both had mild concussions, and Honey's eye looked quite frightful. Mom and dad, and Yuri's parents had stayed until the head nurse announced visiting time was over. Honey slipped quietly from her bed, walking softly, trying not to jog her aching head, and carefully sat on Yuri's bed. "How are you feeling, you little hard-headed anime chick?" Yuri giggled. "I'm hard-headed? What about you?" She rubbed her head and grimaced. "I saw stars when you knocked into me!" Honey smiled, looking rather startling with her swollen eye. "I always see stars when I'm with you!" Honey pulled down the thin blanket and gently slid her hand under Yuri's hospital gown, tracing her fingers over her lover's slim body. "Honey-Chan! What if the nurse comes back!" Honey slipped her fingers between Yuri's thighs. Yuri moaned and forgot all thoughts of interruption. Very gently, Honey leaned down and kissed her friend and then carefully lay next to her. Moving very slowly, so as not to jar their sore heads, the two girls began stroking each other's bodies. "I love you so much, Honey-Chan!" Hands found secret spots, and soon both girls were moving against each other, fingers drawing pleasure from deep within. "Oh Yuri! I love you too! I never want to lose you!" The build-up was much slower than usual, both girls were afraid the other would be hurt. When her orgasm took her, Honey was amazed at its intensity. Yuri moaned in pleasure as she too was overcome. Yuri took her fingers and licked Honey's shining fluids carefully, watching as Honey did the same. "I'll always be here for you!" Honey smiled, and then with a moan, grabbed her head. "Ouch! I don't think this was such a good idea! I feel kinda dizzy now." "Ladies, you need your rest!" Honey and Yuri were shocked, they never heard the door open. Nurse Bradshaw smiled as she took her hand from between her legs. The pretty nurse turned on the light and insisted on helping Honey back to her bed. "You two go to sleep now!" She giggled. "They say laughter is the best medicine, but I think you guys found something a little more potent!" Honey was pleasantly surprised when the nurse bent and gently kissed her goodnight. She then fussed over Yuri and kissed her too. With a final wink, the older woman left them alone. Honey giggled. "Maybe we should come back and visit her some time!" Yuri smiled, and soon both girls were fast asleep. Bill picked himself off the floor of the darkened lab. His son was no longer here. "Of course!" He said to himself. "If I succeeded, he never had to help me!" Dr. Anderson groaned and grabbed his head. Just like Honey, he now had two memory tracks. He could remember Honey's bitter grief, but he also remembered being thankful to the unidentified man who saved his daughter and her friend! He changed the coordinates on his machine and deposited the gun safely in orbit around the sun. After a second's thought, he pulled off his coat and tossed it in the skillet too, wincing at the pain of his bruised back. Bill then inserted a special CD he had prepared and installed it into the machine's computer system. The worm program, in a matter of moments, reduced the whole control system into an inert hunk of metal and plastic, beyond any hope of restoring. Honey awoke with a start. She just had that nightmare again. Ever since she and Yuri went through that scary hold-up, she kept dreaming Yuri was dead! She looked lovingly at her sleeping friend, watching the gentle rise and fall of her pert little breasts, and felt comforted. Honey heard a car pull up. She went to the window and saw her father walking up the front steps. It was 4 a.m., what was going on? She felt like she had to talk to him and started for the door. "Oops!" She whispered to herself. She nearly forgot her nudity, after a night of gentle loving with Yuri. Honey slipped into her robe and quietly went downstairs. She found her father, sitting on the sofa, sobbing. "Daddy! What's wrong?" Dr. Anderson looked up and smiled through his tears. "How are you feeling, Honey? Is, is Yuri okay?" Honey blushed. "She's just fine, daddy! Is anything the matter?" Bill took a deep breath. "Nothing, nothing at all now!" He noticed a copy of Newsday Magazine on the table and flipped through it, finding an article on the attempted robbery. His eyes grew wide. He still felt terrible over killing another living being, but this guy was a monster! He was already wanted in connection with five killings! He breathed a sigh of relief. The authorities had no leads on the mystery man who foiled the robbery attempt, and no charges were being filed. Dr. Anderson took off his coat and threw it to the chair as he got up to go to bed. Honey picked up the papers that fell to the floor. She saw a newspaper photograph of herself, being held by a cop, with a look of pure horror on her face. She read the headline. LOCAL GIRL MOURNS LOSS OF FRIEND. "Honey! Give me that!" It was too late; Honey had turned to the Medical Examiner's report. She sat down hard on the sofa as her father snatched the papers from her hands. "Daddy!" She said quietly. "My nightmares were true." It wasn't a question, but a statement of fact. "You time-traveled and saved her!" It was the only possible explanation. "Honey, you weren't supposed to see this!" He thrust the papers into the fireplace and set them ablaze. "You mustn't mention this to anyone!" She looked at her father's coat and noticed the hole in the back. "Daddy! You were shot! Honey ran to her father and frantically struggled to pull his sweatshirt off. "It's nothing, really." Dr. Anderson smiled as his daughter relaxed. "I'll be a little sore for a couple of days, but that's it!" Honey gasped when she saw the large circular welt on his broad back. "Oh daddy! How can I ever thank you!" She kissed her father passionately and held him tight. Dr. Anderson never realized how tall Honey had become until he felt her nipples burning against his chest. He looked down at his beautiful daughter and noticed her robe had fallen open a little, revealing her firm young breasts. He pushed her gently away. "There's no need to thank me," he said softly. "I just want you to be happy!" Honey glanced down at herself and smiled. She had noticed her father's eyes darting to her breasts. "I love you so much, daddy!" She breathed as she let the robe fall to the floor. She smiled at her father's shocked look. "Please, daddy, let me thank you! Tonight I'm not your daughter, I'm a woman thanking the man who risked his life to make her happy!" She slowly took her startled father in her arms, pressing her body against his. "Oh god, Honey! We can't do this!" He tried to push her away, but couldn't seem to move his arms. "Honey, don't!" His lovely daughter was running her hands down his body, stopping to fondle his growing erection through his slacks. "Daddy, it's okay!" She whispered as she unbuckled his pants and unzipped his fly. "It's so big, daddy! Is that all for me?" "Please, Honey! Don't do this!" He couldn't move his body as Honey slowly sank to her knees and kissed the tip of his penis. He moaned as he felt his daughter's warm tongue sliding over the engorged head of his cock. "Daddy, I love you, let me show you how much!" She took his penis into her mouth and sucked softly, letting her lips slide down his shaft. "William Anderson, is it true?" Neither daughter nor father had heard Molly Anderson come down the stairs. Bill's blood turned to ice water in his veins, but Honey took it in stride. "Oh, mom!" She said, with a tiny drop of pre-cum glistening on her lip. "Daddy traveled in time to save Yuri!" She stood and spun her father around, displaying the angry red welt on his back. "The guy even shot him!"Molly walked into the room. Bill was scared; he thought his marriage was over. She looked at the hole in the coat and then sniffed the pocket, noticing the sharp smell of gunpowder. "Oh my God! Bill, you were the other gunman!" She grabbed her startled husband and kissed him passionately. "Mom?" Honey asked. "Are you mad at me?" Dr. Anderson tensed, preparing for the worst, and almost went into shock over his wife's answer. "Of course not, darling!" Molly thought for a moment and then smiled. "Honey, are you sure you want to do this?" "Oh yes, mom!" Honey giggled. "Ever since I saw Daddy break the condom and get you pregnant, I've been dying to do this!" Honey clapped her hand over her mouth, she hadn't meant to ever tell them that! Molly just laughed. "I always thought you were in that closet! You little peeping tom!" Bill's mind was in a spin, but he soon discovered that he didn't care what they were talking about! Molly kissed him once more and then hugged Honey tight. "You be sure to treat him right, Honey! I'm going back to bed now. This night is for you two!" "Molly?" Honey's father still sounded confused. "You mean, I, we... You want me to fuck our daughter?" "William Anderson!" Molly tried to sound angry, but had a twinkle in her eyes. "Any man who would defy space and time itself to keep his daughter happy deserves a reward!" She smiled wickedly. "That is, unless you don't want to make love to a beautiful young woman!" "Oh god yes! Molly, I love you!" His hungry look made Honey blush, clear to her breasts, when he turned her way. "Honey, do you realize how much you look like your mother?" Honey grinned. "Do you really think so?" Mom was so pretty! She was glad Daddy thought she looked like her! She glanced at her mother, who just nodded, smiling, as she quietly went back upstairs. Honey held out her hands. "Daddy, make love to me! I want to feel you inside me!" Bill was still a little nervous. "Um, Honey. Before, you were, I mean, you used your mouth on me. Could you, could you do that some more?" Honey giggled. "Of course, Daddy!" She knelt once more before him. She paused before taking him back into her warm, loving mouth. "Daddy? You like Yuri, don't you?" Her father just nodded. "Could you make love to her some time too? I know she likes you, and I don't want her to feel left out!" Dr. Anderson couldn't believe his ears! "That's up to your mother, sweetheart." "Goodie! I bet she'll say yes!" Honey once more took her father's erection in her mouth, swirling her tongue around the swollen head. She pulled away, just to tease, and slowly ran just the tip of her tongue down his shaft. "Oh Daddy," she whispered. "You're so big! Will you cum for me?" Honey glanced up, Daddy's eyes were glazed over, and he had a look of utter bliss on his face. She gently sucked one of his balls into her mouth, marveling at the size, then switched to the other. "I bet these are just full of cum!" Honey noticed her father was starting to tremble. "That's it Daddy, just relax. I'll take care of you!" She took his penis in her mouth again, this time she didn't plan on stopping. Honey started to bob her head, up and down the shaft. She felt his hands stroking her hair. At first his touch was gentle, but soon, as his release grew near, he was holding her head, forcing her to go faster, to take him deeper! Suddenly, she felt his balls tense in her hand, and his shaft began to jerk. "Oh god, I'm cumming!" Her father managed to gasp, as thick hot cream began to fill her mouth. Honey swallowed some, she had to, there was so much. When he finally finished his massive orgasm, Honey stood before him and slowly let just a little of her father's cum run down her chin. She opened her mouth to let him see her tongue coated with his seed, then smiled and made a big show of swallowing it all. "Oh baby! That was so sexy!" It had the desired effect, if anything Daddy was harder than ever! Honey took his hand and pulled him to the sofa. "I need you inside me now, Daddy! Make me cum too!" She had the same wicked smile as her mother. "Come on, Daddy, fuck your little girl! I want to feel my Daddy shoot his cum inside me!" Honey was in heaven as he took her; she never had anyone this large before, not even her brother! She wrapped her legs around him and moaned happily as he thrust madly into her, with an urgency that delighted her. "Oh god, Daddy! It's so good!" Part of her wanted it to last forever, but the rest of her needed to cum so bad! "Daddy!" She cried. "I, I'm almost there! Y-yes! Faster!" She felt him starting to jerk inside her again, and that was enough. Honey cried out as he shot deep into her and was overcome by exquisite waves of almost painful ecstasy. Honey smiled up at her Daddy and kissed him as a lover, not his darling daughter. "Oh Daddy, it was wonderful!" Dr. Anderson looked down at his lovely daughter and smiled. "You are so much like your mother, sweetheart! Thank you!" The two lovers just held each other and soon drifted off to a much-needed sleep. Molly stood on legs of rubber and started for bed. She bumped right into Yuri. "I don't know what's going on, Mrs. Anderson," Yuri whispered, as she slipped out of her robe. "But I do know that watching Honey-Chan and her father has me all worked up!" Molly was a little surprised. "You're not upset, Yuri?" Yuri covered her mouth, trying to hush her laughter. "Upset? I'm not upset! Honey and I love each other, but we also like to try new things! It's so much fun to talk about later, little kitten!" Molly blushed. "She told you about that?" Yuri nodded. "I think it's sexy, Mrs. Anderson! I bet you were going to masturbate after watching that, weren't you?" Molly just nodded, speechless. Yuri took her hand and led her to Honey's bedroom. "Why don't we help each other? It's so much nicer than doing it alone!" Yuri rummaged through Honey's nightstand and pulled out a large double-ended dildo. "This is Honey's favorite new toy. Does it excite you, knowing we use this together?" Molly felt herself blush. "Yes, it does, Yuri! Would you let me try it too?" Yuri beamed. "Of course, Mrs. Anderson!" Honey's mother smiled at her daughter's petite lover. "You can call me Molly, if you like." Yuri giggled. "Okay, Molly. Let me help you undress." Yuri gently slid the straps of Molly's nightgown over the lovely woman's shoulders and let it fall, settling like a cloud around her feet. Yuri laughed. "You aren't wearing panties! Just like Honey!" She gently took a swollen nipple in her mouth, listening to Molly's little moan of pleasure as she circled her tongue around it. Yuri playfully pushed Molly onto Honey's bed and eased apart her legs. "Oh wow, Molly! You sure are wet!" She giggled. "Did you like seeing your husband fucking your daughter?" Yuri didn't wait for an answer. She quickly darted her tongue between Molly's lips and began happily lapping her flowing nectar. "Oh god, Yuri! I loved it!" Molly panted. "I, I know it sounds so wrong, but they looked so sexy together!" Yuri sat up and kissed Molly, letting her taste herself on Yuri's lips. "Honey-Chan always looks sexy, whatever she is doing!" Yuri winked at the older woman. "I think she takes after you!" She picked up the rubber toy. "Are you ready for this, Molly?" Honey's mother just nodded. "Good!" Yuri handed it to her. "Get it ready for us." Yuri grinned. "I bet you know how!" Molly did. She took an end of the huge dildo and put it in her mouth, pretending it was her husband's cock. Yuri took the other end, and the two women looked into each other's eyes, trying to outdo each other as they took more and more into their mouths. "Lay down, Molly. I can't wait any more!" Yuri got on her knees, between Molly's legs, and worked the shiny wet toy into herself. She giggled as she stroked her 'cock', then leaned forward and eased the other end into Molly's streaming pussy. She didn't waste time; they were both too worked up for foreplay, so Yuri thrust hard, pretending she was Dr. Anderson. "Oh Yuri! Yes!" Molly gasped. "That's wonderful!" Molly was going crazy, but didn't care! First she watched her loving husband take their beautiful daughter, now she was having sex with Yuri! Using the same dildo that had been inside of Honey! "Oh shit! Yuri, I, I'm cumming!" Yuri was almost there herself, and slammed one last time into her lover's sexy mother. The two of them had the dildo completely hidden as they moved together, orgasms rippling through them. When Molly finally caught her breath, she looked up into Yuri's smiling face. "That was wonderful, dear!" "Thank you, Molly." Yuri giggled and looked towards the open door. "You guys sure are loud!" Honey giggled as she stepped into the room, holding her father's hand. "You woke us up!" For just a second, Molly was frightened. She was caught! She soon realized she had nothing to fear. Honey looked so happy, as she kissed Yuri, and Billy had a silly grin on his face. Better still; he was getting harder as she watched! "I think this family has changed forever!" She mused to herself. The others couldn't agree more. Like they say, change is good!	null	07 - Bitter Honey	Authors/Honey_Moon/Story Index/Sweet Tales of Honey/honey07.txt
83,271	Honey Moon	The Secret Life of Yuriko Yomamata	Yuriko Yomamata is a quiet, shy schoolgirl. That's the image she works hard to project. Yuriko keeps up this act to hide a little secret. She's a fully functional hermaphrodite! Being in an all-girl school is slowly driving her crazy. The time has come to give in to her secret passions. Using her gift for photography, she captures a pretty classmate in an act that could get her expelled. A little luck and a talent for blackmail could be the answer to all of Yuriko's dreams! Chapter 1 I'm not at all who people think I am. I know what I look like. People see me and think, "She's so cute." Granted, I do what I can to keep this image. I keep my auburn hair long. It's down nearly to my waist now, and people always compliment me on its healthy shine and full body. I have a mild astigmatism that requires me to wear corrective lenses. I chose simple wire frames to give me a serious, bookish look. I'm not exactly the tallest girl in school. I'm four foot eleven, but height isn't everything. It has one advantage, if you can call it that. My 38C breasts seem quite large for my slight build. Yes, I know what I look like. When I walk home from school or go shopping, the boys always come sniffing after me. I'm always polite with them, but really. Who wants THEIR attention? I know exactly what I want, and it isn't some nasty boy! I'm a girl, and I like girls. I'm no lesbian though. I have a secret I've kept for all my life. I'm a true rarity. My name is Yuriko Yomamata, and I'm a fully functional futanari. Until recently, my secret was easy to keep. That all changed when I hit puberty. When the other girls in school all started getting their periods, I did too. I started getting something else though. I began having erections. Do you have any idea how difficult life can be if you have a cock and go to an all-girl school? I had to get myself permanently excused from gym class. I talked my doctor into telling the principal I have a weak heart. Father's money sure helped that. Sure it's a lie, but I had to do it. Just seeing a pretty girl is enough to get me all hard. Shit, I may as well tell the truth. If I get a whiff of perfume, I'm hard as a rock. I even get a stiffy over underwear ads in the newspaper! Imagine what would happen if I had to shower with my classmates every day! I've hidden my difference all this time, but the time for hiding is almost over! I'm going crazy! I stroke my shaft several times a day, and it just isn't enough anymore! When I jerk off and cum, it just makes me want more! I want a girl! I want to fuck a real live girl, not just use my hand and dream! I want to press my body against a pretty girl and bury my nine-inch penis deep inside her! Just thinking about it made me nearly fall out of the tree I was hiding in! I knew it! I grabbed my camera and trained it on the classroom window. Ai Moriyama was in our mathematics room well after the final bell! I watched for a moment and felt a grin spread across my face. She was forcing the lock on the drawer! I zoomed in. I got several great shots of Ai taking the exam papers from Takahashi Sensei's desk! I watched the whole time as she photographed each page with her cell phone camera. My stupid penis was rock hard again! I had hoped someone would try and get them, but didn't figure on Ai! She was gorgeous! Ai was captain of the swim team. Rumor says she's being seriously scouted for the Olympics! I believe it. I've watched her swim many times. Her hours of practice in the pool made her long legs so firm and toned. I couldn't believe my luck! Ai was going to end my virginity! Those perfect legs were going to spread for me! I had to be careful walking home. The whole way I had my book bag in front of me. I had to hide my raging hard-on from prying eyes. Thank goodness Father was still at his office. He likes to think of me as his little girl. He doesn't cope very well if he spots me with a boner lifting the front of my uniform skirt. I wanted to develop my film right away, but my needs were too strong! My cock ached for attention. I didn't even bother to undress. I yanked down my panties and touched myself. I was so hard! I didn't have time to waste on neatness. Panties around my ankles, I shuffled into the bathroom. "Oh Ai!" I moaned, as my left hand closed over my shaft. "You want it too? I've dreamed of you for so long!" My hand began to move. I jerked myself and let my fantasy fill my mind. "What? You want to suck me? Please! I'd love that! Please let me put my cock in your mouth!" I was so hot! My right hand pawed at my blazer, getting it out of the way. A button tore from my blouse in my haste to open it. I just tugged my bra out of the way and started rolling my nipples between my thumb and index finger. "Yes Ai! I'm in your throat! I'm fucking your throat!" That was it! My legs shook as my penis jerked and throbbed in my hand. Shit! The toilet lid! Too late! Streamers of semen spurted from my cock as it went from one spasm to the next. I plastered the tank and seat with thick, shiny ropes of pearly white seminal fluid. Damn! I made such a huge mess! Frankly, I seem to ejaculate far more than any guy I've seen in porno videos! It took ten minutes to wipe up all of my ejaculate. Later that night I processed my film. I'm one photographer that prefers the warmth only found by using chemical-based films. Father provides me with all the latest darkroom equipment. I was delighted with the results! I blew up the best shots. There was Ai. One hand held the wire she used as a lock pick. The other held the answer sheet. You could read it clearly. I had a longer shot as absolute proof of the crime. The chalkboard still had today's date on it, while the clock on the wall showed the time. Ai was holding the exam answer sheet, the day BEFORE the exam! I made a dozen copies of both pictures. I was hard again! This was my golden chance. With these pictures, I owned Ai! I could have her thrown out of school. She'd be banned from using the pool. The controversy would be so big; no scout would want her for anything, let alone the Olympics! I held her whole future in my hands. I could destroy her hopes and dreams, or she could have sex with me. It was all up to Ai! I went to bed with a glad heart. A glad heart wasn't all I had. My penis was raging hard. I couldn't sleep like this! I lay back and held up a special picture. This one was a close-up of my soon-to-be lover's face. "Oh Ai," I whispered, as I once more took myself in hand. "You'll set me free! I won't have to just masturbate anymore!" My hand moved faster. "I'll do you any time I want! I'll sleep over your house and fuck you all night long!" Oh god! I was so hot! This called for my special technique! I propped the picture up against my pillow and rolled onto my side. Thank goodness I was nine inches long! If my breasts were bigger, or my penis smaller, I wouldn't be able to do this! I curled into a fetal position and wedged my erection between my breasts. My lips brushed against the engorged head. "Soon Ai! Soon you'll be doing this for me too!" I took that head into my mouth and sucked. It felt better than usual! Just knowing Ai would soon be the one sucking me off added just the right spice! I sucked harder and swirled my tongue around the head. It was so good! My hands found my female center, and I nearly lost my mind! This was gonna be a big one! My finger found the firm clitoris under my penis. I heard strange guttural moans and realized I was making them! I sucked harder still, while spanking my clit with my finger. With all that, I still credit Ai's lovely face for one mighty fine orgasm! I exploded! Hot semen burst into my mouth, spurt after glorious spurt. It seemed to go on forever as I fought to swallow every last yummy drop. The next day at school was an eternity! It was hard to think about anything but making love to Ai. We took our mathematics exam, and I knew I did very well. I glanced over at Ai and saw her smug little smile. Later in the day, all the scores were posted in the hall. Takahashi Sensei came over and smiled at me. "Yuriko, you better watch behind you. Ai is really improving. She just missed tying you for high score." People laughed, but I didn't mind. I was the cute, brainy girl, after all. "That's wonderful!" I said, with happiness that wasn't forced. I looked around and spotted Ai. "I rushed over and took her hands. "Congratulations Ai! We both got the top scores!" She smiled, and my heart fluttered. "Thank you Yuriko. It's no big deal though." "Sure it is!" I blushed, and that was no act. Holding her hand was really working me up. "Um, I meant to ask you. Could, could I watch you practice again tonight?" I pulled my ever-present camera out of my book bag."I want to take a few pictures of you in action. I thought they'd look great on the cover of this year's yearbook." "Really?" Ai knew she was good-looking, and the thought of her picture on the cover had her hooked. "That would be great!" "I'll meet you at the pool, right after school!" I promised. "It's a date!" She called out as we headed back to class. It couldn't wait! Butterflies filled my tummy as I walked into the pool enclosure. This was it! Very soon, I'd have Ai for my very own. I stopped in my tracks and watched her prepare to dive. The racing swimsuit she wore showed every delightful detail of her beautiful body. It was breathtaking! My hands moved automatically as I fired off a few shots. There was hardly a splash as Ai knifed cleanly into the water. Thank goodness I thought ahead and tied my blazer around my waist. I was hard as a telephone pole! I walked around the pool, watching my mermaid swim her laps. I burned three rolls of film on that lovely body of hers. A couple of people were watching, but apparently they grew bored with Ai's single-minded determination. I rushed around the pool and locked all the doors when they finally were gone. I went back poolside and knelt by the edge. "You look wonderful, Ai!" I paused for a second. Both our lives were about to be changed forever. "Now, let's try again Ai. This time, take off the swimsuit!" She actually laughed. "That's very funny Yuriko! Knock it off, or I'll tell everyone you have a secret crush on me!" That threw me off for a second. Was I that obvious? It didn't really matter. "Take off the damn swimsuit!" I shouted as I flipped a photograph into the pool with her. She opened her mouth to yell back, but no sound came out. Instead, she stared at the photograph floating with her in the water. "Yuriko, where, where did you find this?" "Find it? I took it! I took a lot more too. I sat up in a tree watching the whole time as you cheated!" An odd feeling came over me. Power! I had power over Ai now! "Now be a good girl, and slip out of that pretty little swimsuit. It's time to take some REAL pictures!" She looked at me in shock. "Please! Don't tell anyone! I had to do it! I would have been cut from the swim team if my grades didn't get better!" "Oh, I won't tell. If you do exactly what I say, these pictures will never be seen by anyone but you and me." I tossed a couple more into the water. "These, all the other copies, and the negatives, I should add!" as she frantically tore the soggy pictures to tiny bits. "What do you want?" she whimpered, as tears filled her eyes. "My family isn't rich like yours. I can't give you money!" I smiled down at her. "I don't want money! My father could buy and sell this school if he wanted! You heard what I said! Get out here, and take off that swimsuit!" "I can't!" she whined. "What if someone comes in?" "That's a risk you already took yesterday! What if someone walked in and caught you stealing the answers? Besides, I'm not crazy! I locked all the doors. Now show me that lovely body of yours!" It was a trembling Ai that climbed up the ladder. Water streamed off her body as she stood in front of me. "Please don't do this!" she whimpered, as she pulled the straps of the racing suit over her shoulders. "Smile!" I said cheerfully, as I fired off more pictures. "Oh goodness!" I couldn't help muttering, as her perfect body slowly was exposed to me. She let the wet garment drop and stepped out of it. "Ai, you're lovely! Shaving your pussy was such a nice touch. Americans will pay through the nose to see these pictures!" That was just to make her even more scared. These pictures were for my own private collection! "Is, is that all?" she said in a small, hopeful voice. "No, we've only just started!" I untied the sleeves of my blazer and tossed it over to the bleachers. I turned my back and quickly slipped out of my panties and threw them away too. "I have a present for you, Ai! Lift my skirt and tell me what you see." Her eyes went wide when she saw how my skirt was lifting in the front. She took a wobbly step towards me. Her fingers were shaking badly as she grasped the hem of my skirt. "No! Oh please no!" she cried as she got a good look at my erection. She dropped my skirt and stepped back from me. "You, you're a, you're not a girl!" "Yes I am Ai! I'm a girl, but I'm part boy too. The proper term is futanari. Medically, I'm a hermaphrodite. You're very lucky. You're the first person I've ever shown my true self to!" I threw another photograph right in her face. "I can trust you. I know you'll never tell my little secret. I can't help being born this way. You, on the other hand, committed a crime. You broke into a classroom, removed those papers, and copied all the answers. The photographs prove it! Do you think people will believe a lying cheater telling such fantastic fibs about a nice girl like me? Why don't you tell me what will happen if these pictures get into the wrong hands." Tears filled Ai's eyes. "I'll be kicked out of school," she sobbed. "Right you are!" I said cheerfully. "I really do like you, Ai. I have no wish to see you and your family publicly disgraced. "W-what do you want me to do?" she said softly. "What?" I said with a giggle. "You haven't figured that out yet?" I walked over to the bleachers and picked up my blazer and panties on the way. I folded them neatly and set them down. I slipped out of my skirt and added it to the pile. "Alright, let's start with something really easy." I picked up one of her towels and folded it into a square. I slowly walked back to Ai. I felt like my erection was pulling me towards her. I placed the soft towel on the floor between us. I waited a moment. Ai was staring down at my cock as it peeked out between the tails of my blouse but didn't make a move. "Kneel!" I finally snapped. "Yuriko, please no! I can't be doing this! I'm a virgin!" I put my hands on her shoulders. She was taller and stronger than me, but she didn't resist at all as I pushed her down to her knees. "You can't be cheating, either, but you sure did anyway!" I leaned forward and pressed my penis against her beautiful face. It looked so hot and sexy! I groped for my camera strap and nearly strangled myself as I rushed to photograph my cock against her flushed cheek. "Yuriko, I've never even done THAT before!" she protested weakly, before clamping her mouth tightly shut. "Well cheater, it's time to learn! Open wide, because I want this cock in your lovely mouth!" "Please? You, you won't make it squirt, will you?" she whispered softly. "No Ai. You're going to make it squirt. What's the point of oral sex if I don't get an orgasm from it?" I grabbed my penis and rubbed the head all over her face. I was leaving a shiny trail behind as my pre-cum flowed freely. "Open up!" With a little sob, my pretty Ai opened her mouth wide. I pushed in past her lips, and felt the warm heaven of her tongue against the underside of my cockhead. "Oh, that's so nice!" I moaned as her lips closed around me. She hesitated, but soon her wonderful tongue moved. "That's right Ai!" I cheered, as she finally began to give her very first blowjob. The feelings she was giving me were wondrous! I always thought my own blowjobs were great, but I couldn't compare to Ai's sexy mouth! I could barely get just the head in. Ai was taking so much more! I've waited so long for this moment! Someone else was finally pleasuring me! A beautiful girl was worshipping my hardness! Ai was beginning to bob her head on my shaft. She made sexy little slobbery gasps as her tongue swirled around me. I wanted this feeling to last forever, but I could feel the pressure building deep inside me. "Ai, huh, huh, I'm, I'm about to give you s-something nice. Don't, don't you dare stop!" I shouted. "Swallow it! Swallow what I give you!" I didn't mean to, but as my orgasm started, I grabbed her head! My cock jerked in her mouth. I pulled her to me! She gagged, as I forced my erupting cock deep into her throat! It was glorious! I never felt the likes of this before! I couldn't seem to stop cumming! My semen was pumping its way right down her velvety throat! I slipped from her mouth and Ai choked as my last few spurts adorned her face. Semen ran down her chin and dripped on her lovely little breasts. It was thrilling to wipe my penis clean in her still wet hair! I was breathing hard and my legs felt all rubbery, but still I managed to bring my camera up. I fired off one picture after another. I made a photographic study of my mess on her flawless skin. "Eat it," I whispered, as the camera whirred. My lovely Ai didn't disappoint me! She scooped up a gooey finger full, and without a sound, slipped it into her mouth. "Good girl!" Thank goodness I brought enough film! These pictures were priceless! When she finally finished eating all my semen, she looked up at me with hope burning in her eyes. "Yuriko, I have to go home now. I, what I mean to say, uh, I'll do this every day for you, if you keep all these pictures secret!" "Thank you, Ai! Thank you so much!" The look of relief on her face was charming. It was really such a shame to spoil it. "Ai, take a good look at my penis and tell me what you see." Her lovely eyes opened wide. "You're, it's still hard!" She looked up at me in panic. "I'll suck you again! Let me suck you! I'll make you squirt so much more!" "No Ai. I think you know what comes next, don't you?" "You want to fuck me?" she whispered in a tiny voice. "That's right!" I answered happily. "Neither of us is leaving this pool a virgin tonight. Isn't that exciting?" "I can't! I have to be a virgin when I marry! Yuriko, please don't do this!"She didn't try to fight or run. She only watched as I took my camera and placed it on my skirt, panties, and blazer. Blouse, bra, shoes, and socks soon joined them. When I rejoined my lover, I was as naked as she was. Well, I left on my glasses. I wanted to see everything! "I'll suck you so good! I swear!" The eager thing practically dove on my cock! "Not that I don't love your blowjobs, but cut it out!" I shoved her away. "Now lay down. Use the towel as a pillow if you want, but lay the fuck down!" My lovely mermaid whimpered, but did what she was told. "Please, I'm begging you!" she whispered, as I moved between those lovely legs. "No, don't!" she breathed, as I lay over her. "Take my cock," I whispered right back. "Take my cock, and guide me into your body!" Ai's soulful eyes looked up at me, as I felt trembling fingers gently grasp my shaft. Delightful warmth soon enveloped the swollen head of my cock as those lovely pouty lips spread for me. I looked down between us and pressed harder. We sobbed together at the resistance of her maidenhead. "For now and forever, Ai, wherever you go, whatever you do, I'll always be your first!" With that, I did what I've been longing to do. With one thrust, I buried my shaft deep in her warmth! She cried out at her first penetration. "Take it out!" she sobbed as she trembled beneath me. "It hurt! Take it out right now!" "It'll start feeling better soon, I promise!" I waited an agonizingly long time before I slowly started moving my hips. I was fucking her! "How do you feel?" She looked up at me, and her lips trembled. It seemed to take her quite a while to make her mouth actually speak. When she did, I had to strain to hear the words. "It feels better," she whimpered. "It, it feels good!" My heart sang! I worked harder! It felt wonderful to press my breasts against hers! I kissed her, and to my delight, her lips parted for my tongue. "I taste my sperm!" I giggled madly, as we took time to breathe. "Did you say sperm?" Just as she was beginning to enjoy our union, panic once more shook her. "You have sperm? Oh god! Yuriko, not inside me! I'm not on the pill! Please stop! It's my bad time of the month! I'll be ruined!" I never even thought of that! I could make her pregnant! I did what I had to do. I thrust even harder! "I'll be a good daddy!" I swore, as I felt the first hint of the coming explosion. "No! I'll be cut from the team! I'll have to drop out of school!" she sobbed. She had a point. I thought hard and fast. If I made her pregnant, she'd hate me. More importantly, if she were kicked out of school, I'd lose my hold over her. It was the hardest thing I ever did, but I managed to pull out of her quivering body. "I'll make a deal!" I gasped, as my penis did all the thinking. "Nobody will see the pictures. I'll use condoms from now on. You just have to do one or two little things for me!" "What? Anything!" she gasped. "First, I need you right now! Roll over! Get on your hands and knees and give me that pretty ass!" she did! Without question, my lovely Ai presented herself to me! I grabbed my throbbing cock. "I'm still cumming inside you, Ai!" I cried out as I pressed the head against her cute little hiney-hole. She made a muffled scream as I rammed myself into exquisite tightness. I was so close; I didn't even try to be gentle. "You're my agent! I babbled as I moved in and out of that heavenly tightness. "You find one for me! Get me a virgin! Get, get me a fertile virgin! If, if you don't, I'll, I'll forget about the condoms, and make YOU pregnant!" "I will!" she groaned. "I swear I will!" Her words were music! I rammed in one last time. "I love you Ai!" I screamed, as my cock blasted deep in her quivering bottom. I wasn't sure if I imagined it, but as my body shook, I thought I heard these words: "I love you too, Yuriko!"	null	01	Authors/Honey_Moon/Story Index/The Secret Life of Yuriko Yomamata/Secret Life of Yuriko Yomamata01.txt
83,340	Gospodin	Your Trip to Torei	Your first view of Torei from space is a bit of a disappointment, all told. You suppose you've seen realistic images before, but the picture of the planet in everyone's heads is the stylized diagram used for their celestial ensign: a grey globe circled by a green sash at the equator, black ziggurats sprouting clouds from the poles. Whenever someone spots the image above a starport berth, wild tales fill the corridors and canteens. The Toreans have no shipyards of their own, and the sight of their flag on a second-hand haulier or cruise vessel is often the only hint that anything may be different within. You always hear one or two maintenance techs swearing oaths that they serviced it and saw a brothel of chattel slaves inside, or customs clerks confiding that one entry on the manifest is code for human cargo. In the years you've been starfaring, you began to think of the planet itself as a bit of a tall tale in its own right. That's why you're a little disappointed to come into high orbit and not see cartoonish terraforming pyramids jutting visibly out into space, no iridescent green band edging sharply onto grey badlands. In some ways, it loses some of the magic to see that it's just another spherical planet with clouds, city lights, and a space elevator sticking like a splinter into low orbit. But if the view from space is mundane, even as you dock at the elevator's top, the view from the surface is breathtaking. Immediately at the border control desk, you found yourself transfixed by a sea of local female beauty. Border agents, car attendants, and shop girls are all stunning in their glistening slick-wear uniforms and jangling heavy jewelry. You discover a whole service industry run and staffed by gorgeous women. You remember reading that women on Torei outnumber men nine to one, a result of the entire population descending from bio-engineered vat embryos. Thousands of years ago, the unmanned AI ships arrived to begin terraforming, and they carried with them a DNA bank of plants and animals to kick-start the native flora and fauna. Everything that lives and breathes on Torei, tourists excluded, came over as desiccated seeds or frozen eggs and spermatozoa. Breeding is always easier if you have a harem of females fertilized by a single carefully-chosen stud. Bootstrapping a population was the primary goal of the colonization AIs, and they tuned the human genome to produce Y chromosomes in only 10% of sperm. Planetbuilding by the numbers, engineered by calculating artificial minds. It makes for quite a beautiful crowd, though, you have to admit. While walking a busy street, you catch your breath as you notice an emissary of an AI walking through the crowd. You have a circle of friends back home with an uncanny interest in these women, dressing up in black catsuits and faceless egg-shaped costume helmets to emulate their isolation laminates. You may even have enjoyed a good show or two where dancers pretended to be slaves of the machines in their own burlesque way. But none of your research prepared you for actually encountering one in person, however momentary. You can't imagine what she sees through that helmet of hers, or what the computers at the poles allow her to see and hear. Her toned legs stalk forward like those of a greyhound, her laminated body sliding glossily between the real objects of the world you live in. A suit designed to protect the human body from the harsh environment outside the atmosphere-generating ziggurats now protects the human mind from the comforts of the lush world on the equator. You shudder, feeling a twinge of regret for ever fantasizing about their plight. In the diplomatic compound at the anchor of the space elevator's immense tower, you have easy access to a number of independent equatorial nations on Torei. Centuries ago, the fertile band of agricultural kingdoms joined together in a single empire, but now they each scrambled for a thin stripe of land connecting to the neutral territory that leads up to orbit and out to the greater galactic civilization. The nations on the antipode of the elevator are harsh and bitter, but they are the breadbasket of Torei and they have the same pride in their agricultural life as you'd find in any agrarian world. Each of the neighboring "ringdoms," as they're sometimes called, has erected a tower of its own next to the space elevator. The value of land next to the Way Up is so high that it would be wasteful not to. You explore the towers idly, tourist districts showing you exactly the forced sort of "local color" you saw splashed across all of the holiday pamphlets that brought you here. Each kingdom has its own culture and society, but there are a few constants. First and foremost is that every nation on Torei permits and recognizes the chattel slavery of women. The degree to which it is practiced and how depends on the rule of the realm, but a slave on Torei will never find an abolitionist haven anywhere on the planet. You play a little in the pleasure palaces, along with all the other tourists. You did your research, and you know that the women serving you are all freewombs or freeclits working under contracts entered into with knowing consent. Most real slaves only service their own masters or mistresses, and never deal with off-worlders. It still makes you wonder what kind of society would create a population of such beautiful creatures so eager to enter into this line of work. You convince yourself it's at least partly to do with differing sexual mores. The parties are wild and intense and like nothing even your little kinky communities back home ever managed to enjoy. It's really true what they say, you think, and you wonder why it isn't enough for you. From the top of the tower belonging to the republic of Osshaz, you can see the subtle curvature of the planet. You look toward the South and imagine, some impossible distance away, a computer with a body the size of this whole country. It breathes in the core of the world and breathes out the air you're living on now. Utter fancy anywhere near anywhere, but out on this most distant of human settlements, it has been a simple fact for millennia. And when that computer wants to see what the rogue humans around the equatorial belt are up to, it simply sends itself there, wrapped around living bodies and playing in their heads. If it could feed itself and maintain itself without the bounty of these free states, it would rub them out tonight. And its twin to the North is no different. You lay awake on your hotel bed, thinking of the tar-black ghost of a woman you saw earlier. Your mind is trapped in a loop, undistractable. And then there's a visitor at the door, ringing the precise moment that the clock rolls over. You let her in, her black featureless head showing your own face in its reflection. She is all business, wordlessly holding out the contract on a smooth obsidian slab. She silently adjusts the terms as you haggle, but you're not really speaking to her. You're making deals with a computer half a world away. The two polar arcologies have been trading manufactured goods to the equator in exchange for food and other agricultural materials for centuries. But now the grain belt is happy to get what it needs by selling sex to the greater cosmos, and it's squeezing the poor ziggurats out. With things left as they are, the habitability of this world will be compromised within a decade, and that's why the two of you are negotiating right now. You've got what they want, easy. It's all about raw organic compounds, oils, grains, and fresh fruit. Sure, this star is on the ass end of space, but the goods are chump change to you. What you need in return is much more interesting. This world has human bio-engineering technology that thousands of years of singular focus developed far in advance of the rest of human science. The emissary's lamination suit alone is a masterpiece, never mind the life extension treatments and body modification techniques... You have to calm down. You regain your nerve and negotiate smoothly, finally settling on three of the five technologies your company wants to market. Your target was two, so you're feeling rather pleased with yourself. The moment that the transfers are solemnized, the emissary quickly turns to leave without even a farewell gesture. You grab her wrist. She has the strength of a machine, should she choose to use it. She could flick her wrist in a way that would break all your fingers, if willed by her computational master. And yet she pauses. There is a moment when you're convinced that your motives have been misinterpreted. Or that it's glaringly obvious what you want and you'll die painfully for daring to try taking it. You've tickled the tail of a monster the size of a moon, and this fragile-looking rubber goddess may just decide to feed you to her sisters. But with delicacy and grace, she pulls her arm away from you and places her palms together behind her back. You gasp as the rubbery coating of her lamination writhes and merges, joining her elbows in a perfect monoglove. She drops to her knees and places the black porcelain egg of her head on the floor at your feet.On the liner back to civilization, you feel justified in splashing out on a first-class cabin. You've had a fantastic trip for both business and pleasure. You are a rising star in your organization now, and you can write your own terms. People have been trying to crack this kind of technology transfer deal for years, but all the cultural studies were focused on the ringdoms. It was only people like you, people with a strange dark patch in their minds, who had the necessary level of obsession with the grim mechanical hives. You had to be a special kind of broken to get a square deal from those monsters. Alone in your luxury room, you unpack the spoils of your expedition. Most of it is simply encrypted data, key shards to complete the unlocking of a vast body of science on the modification of the human body. It's not the sort of treasure you can hold up to the light or run your fingertips over. There are some biological samples sealed in blocks of something not unlike lucite, and some peculiar devices for synthesizing symbiotic materials to match cell samples. But this is just a shallow platter of trinkets, and the chest is too large for this to be all that lies within. Lifting up the tray, your breath stops. You were so pleased with yourself, so sure that you'd figured out the robot masters of Torei. You thought you'd walked into their palace and walked away with the crown jewels. But they must have researched you far more than you ever pried into their way of life. You set the tray on an ornate lacquered table and reach with both hands into the shock-foam of the spacing crate. Your palms slide over the near-frictionless object inside, finding purchase on the seam that must vanish the moment the thing is activated. Lifting it to the light, you run your fingers adoringly over its perfect surface. The helmet is blacker than black, and yet it manages to reflect your awed face back to you. It is open in two parts, but you can find no hinge at all. Turning it over to look inside, you see an impression of a face—your face. This isolation helmet was made for you, and you alone. Reaching inside, you run your fingers over the inside-out shape of your own lips, and the object comes to life. The eyes glow with the light of an image meant only for you, and the mouth shape parts as a slick black protrusion probes into where your own mouth would go. It hunts like a worm in the dark, seeking...your tongue? Perhaps your teeth? You cast a forlorn glance at the small tray of baubles you pried from Torei. To any lab in the core worlds, they're irrelevant toys compared to this helmet. If you brought this home, you could buy whole stars with the money you'd earn. In flight or at your homeworld, the helmet would be too far from Torei to communicate with the polar AIs. All the same, it would have enough smarts and storage to hold training protocols and previously issued orders and directives. Torean ships must travel the stars all the time with emissary Isolates on board. Perhaps computer equipment running in the hold carries a fragment of the home ziggurat's consciousness, ready to merge at journey's end. Maybe there's one on this very ship. It would be an extravagant expense to just toss such a thing onto an off-world passenger liner, to be sure. But the calculating mind that bargained with you, that gave you this gift...it made one very safe bet: In the three months your ship traveled from Torei to your destination, it bet that you wouldn't be able to resist putting it on.	null	null	Authors/Gospodin/Torei_Tales/intro.md.txt
83,749	Aerosol Kid	Nina's Story About Why You Don't Want To Be A Spy	Yes, these are weird times. Terrorists talk about blowing up this or that, and occasionally follow through. Since they're not formally attached to any nation state, it's hard to fight them. The whole world is jumpy. You hear people talking about Doing Something About It, and occasionally someone decides to become a government spook. They're usually young, idealistic types. Like, oh, me for instance. I know I don't look like a spy. Think about it! Would you want your spies to look like spies? Anyway, I'm here to give you the details that your friendly recruiter leaves out of his/her pitch. Think of me as the voice of caution. I did a two-year stint with the Global Intelligence Agency, and I can tell you that there are worse people out there than extremist yokels with C4. While I was there, I endured things that hounded me even after I resigned. I'm going to tell you a little story, and afterwards, if you've got the apricots, then by all means, enlist. They could use people like you. My name's Nina Suenaga-Wentley. If you're reading this from where I think you are, you probably know me through Akiko Masumi, and you know where I'm going with this. I'll start with Akiko. We didn't meet under ideal circumstances - we were both deep undercover on what was essentially a tropical slave camp, and this scary lady named Ophelia decided I was going to be Akiko's toy girl. I'd been brainwashed, so I wasn't really in a position to argue, but I took a shine to Akiko right away. She's so pretty it hurts to look at her, and she has this way of making you feel important and special. Plus, I've never met anyone so loyal in all my short life. When my cover got blown, she really saved my brickies. She's gentle and sweet and funny and I could go on all day. I thought we were in love, but after the mission, things took a turn for the weird. She holed herself up in this expensive apartment in Harajuku, never went out except to drive in the country, and didn't ever check her answering machine. When she would see me, she treated me like some dumb little kid. Any time we'd talk about us, she'd start her sentences with "When you're a little older," like she was fifty or something. I think she was being irritating on purpose, and it worked because she pushed me right out of her life. So I resigned from the Global Intelligence Agency and went back home to Sydney with a brand new broken heart. Yeah, I felt sorry for myself for a while. Took to chain-smoking, sitting out in the rain, going out on benders with my friends. Eventually I went back to music, which is what I'd done before that gung-ho recruiter from GIA talked me into serving my country. (She never mentioned I'd be doing it on my back, by the way, but more on that later.) I wrote a few sad little songs and recorded them at my brother's studio, but none of the labels I shopped were interested. The A & R guys would look me up and down, taking in my perky bod, my tan, the platinum dye job and the blue contacts. And they'd say, "Well, Ms. Nina Suenaga-Wentley, we don't think your look matches your sound. Furthermore, the kids don't want to listen to an hour of sad love songs." As if any of them actually remembered puberty. More rejection. Great, right? I got pissed, but the business wasn't going to get less shitty because I was crying about it. My spy money wasn't going to last forever, so I went back to the drawing board. Maybe I wasn't Prozac-and-Ritalin-soup happy, but I could at least go through the motions, and eight cheery pop songs later, yours truly was signed to Virgin Records. And no, the irony was not lost on me. The Virgin marketing people were in love with my mixed heritage (thanks to my loveable lunk of an Aussie dad and my kooky violinist mom from Osaka). What I had, they'd say in hushed tones, was International Superstar Potential. I'd just bite my lip and giggle, while I made notes on my PDA of things to go over with my lawyer. These people were itching to break me into America, before I even sold a record at home, so they herded me onto a plane to Los Angeles to meet with producers. The label folks in L.A. spent an entire week wining and dining me. I may be a little naïve, but don't think I let all the attention go to my head. Flying first class was nice, and getting driven around in a limo was fun. The all-day spa makeover was heaven, and getting randomly chatted up at Nobu by Josh Hartnett was cute. Okay, so maybe L.A. was affecting me. A little. My minder for the week was Christa: a cute bundle of fun in a tan, tight package. Unlike most of the locals, she had real lips, real boobs, naturally curly red hair, and she didn't buy into her own hype. She was a chronic party girl with expensive taste and - oh, the humanity - she was straight. I can't tell you how many times I had to just grind my teeth as I walked behind her, my eyes locked to her yummy, wiggling butt. And no, I don't jump her bones later in this story. On my last night in town, Christa decreed that it was time to let loose, and drove me to a posh party. This shadowy millionaire held monthly bashes at his estate, which were all the go with movie industry types. No one knew what he did for a living, but he was in with the execs at the studios. Now pay attention, because we weren't there twenty minutes before everything went straight to Weirdville. I was in a strappy, blue tissue of a dress, nursing a martini. Christa, whose dress was translucently porn-worthy, ditched me to smoke a joint with some New York newspaper guy. After days of her leading me around by the nose, I was kind of at a loss. The other guests were strictly Beautiful People. They were here to schmooze, and I was roundly sick of all that. They were so into talking shop that no one noticed me all alone on the couch - an experience I hadn't had since just before puberty. Halfway through my martini I got up to powder my nose. Some giggling girls emerged from a narrow hallway, which I guessed was the way to the can. It was dim, and I was a little tipsy, so I stuck my hand out to steady myself against the wall. Halfway down the hall, I saw a burly bloke coming toward me. Before I could ask him to point me in the right direction, he smiled and spritzed me in the face with something. My eyes fluttered reflexively against the cool mist. It smelled delicate and flowery. "Mmmm, nice scent," I remarked, thinking it was perfume. The bloke's smile widened. "Do you always go around spraying it on unsuspecting girls on their way to p-" That's when my tongue stopped working, my knees went on strike, and the hardwood floor got very large. Before I hit it, strong hands scooped me up. "Hey," I warned. But it sounded more like I was answering a phone call from a close friend in the middle of the night. I felt exactly the same as the time my friend Bev made me do eight shooters, specifically when she wiped the puke from my lips and tucked me into bed. Only this time I couldn't protest that I really did want to get up on the bar and flash my tits. I was being carted off somewhere, in the manner of a bad monster movie. My shoes knocked against the walls, as my heart pounded very loud and fast. Then my assailant - whose support I'd quickly got used to - dumped me into a chair and secured my wrists and ankles. Everything happened so fast, I hadn't had time to get properly scared. "I'll give you a chance to make this very easy," a man said in a musical (South American?) accent. I didn't know the voice, but I could tell he was used to getting his way. With effort, I opened my eyes and squinted at a tall, tanned man in a sleek black suit. Sharply dressed assistants flanked him. Less than five minutes ago I'd been at a cocktail party. I couldn't think of a neat social label to pin on what was happening now.I licked my numb lips in preparation for the pasting I was about to give him. "What in the fuck do you think you're doing?" He was unfazed. In fact, he drew back his hand and struck me across the cheek. I yelped in surprise, because it stung like hell. But curiously, my old spy training kicked in, so I ignored the heat from the blow and gave him a frosty look. My reaction seemed to interest him greatly. He knelt in a little too close and said, "I'll give you one more chance to make this easy. Tell me what you are doing here." What a ridiculous question! I fought angrily to keep my head from wobbling so much. "You gassed me and dragged me in here to ask me that? I'm with Christa. You invited us here, you fuck!" The sedative was wearing off, and adrenaline was kicking in. He clearly wanted to hit me again, but he changed his tack. His face was still millimeters from mine. Pretty blue eyes, but his expression gave me the willies. "Ms. Suenaga-Wentley, please. Let's skip the part where you pretend to be something you aren't. Yes?" My mouth opened and shut. He knew my name, but beyond that I couldn't make any sense out of him. His fingertips grazed my forehead, making me blink. "If you don't, I'll be forced to get inside your head. Now, I know that you're a fucking little spy from GIA..." The last few words were delivered quite a bit louder than the rest. "...And I need to know why you're here." Now I understood. Christ, this guy thought I was still an agent! Of all the parties in L.A. tonight, Christa had taken me to the home of someone who felt he needed to worry about government surveillance. That probably meant he was dangerous. And if he knew me from my GIA days, no wonder he was freaking out. I still had my poker face on, but I wanted to cry. I knew I was facing torture, or worse: mind control. Which I wasn't too excited about re-experiencing. But I really was in America to find a producer, and I really was at this party to have fun, and really not to spy on this suave Latino bloke. I pretended to break down, sputtering, "Look, I don't know you! I just got signed to Virgin, and my friend Christa told me she was taking me to a good party, and now I'm tied up in this chair, and you hit me, and..." I paused to sob dramatically, "I want to go home!" I can be a pretty good actress when I have to be, so it was gratifying to see my captor blink and jerk his head back. He straightened, motioned one of his flunkies over and whispered terse things in his ear. His vibe was, "Are you sure about this?" I made a point of continuing to cry. There was more whispering, then my ungracious host knelt and squeezed my shoulders. "Nina, Nina. Shhh. You may call me Arturo," he soothed. "I'm sorry to pull you away from the party." Like drugging me and tying me up was a trivial thing that partygoers endure every day. Nice. "But my men tell me that you are definitely listed as an agent of the Global Intelligence Agency." Leave it to outdated government records to put me in a pickle. But I sniffled dramatically, and decided to stick with the truth. "I know. Yes. I was a spy. But if you'll just check again, you'll see that I left GIA, in the spring. I really am here to find a producer. I'm supposed to fly home tomorrow!" I didn't see a way out of this if they didn't believe me, so I started to get really rattled then, damn it all, and my captor sensed this. He gave me another friendly squeeze. I thought I was getting through to him, because he withdrew, to huddle with his henchmen. But when he reached into his jacket pocket and produced a syringe, I knew I was fucked. I ignored the needle, swallowed hard and asked, "Can I please go now?" He smiled, shaking his head at the tragedy of it all. "I'm afraid not. A man in my position must be careful. You will have to be interrogated." That last sentence didn't sound good at all, the way he said it. "I have two ways of extracting information from people. Pleasure and pain. And in your case..." He made a lascivious show of running a finger across my lips. "I think pleasure will better serve." I flinched away from his questing fingers, and glared at him. "So you lost the nerve to beat on your party guests, and now you're going to rape me?" He stowed that bad temper of his. Smiled. "I look forward to interacting with you, sans the mouth." I drew a sharp breath. "Wait! You can't do this!" I pleaded, as he stepped behind me. I felt the swipe of a cotton ball on my right arm, then a jab. "Ow!" Arturo, suave and gracious now, explained, "Soon you will feel much better. And you'll be more receptive to my questions. After I'm satisfied, you can go." I tried to plead with him some more, but I was already fading. The guys passed some time by doing a few lines of blow, waiting for me to go all the way under. While they got jacked up, I got warm and dizzy. I squirmed, because my little dress felt more and more like a giant winter parka. Then I groaned, and the guys got very interested in me. Just as I started to worry about a gangbang, Arturo curtly dismissed his assistants, and stepped behind me again. He undid the restraints on the chair, which felt nice. Then he brushed the hair from my damp forehead and pinned it up, which felt even better. When he slipped the straps of my dress down over my shoulders, I grabbed his fingers. "I-I'd rather you didn't," I murmured. He kissed the back of my neck. Ew. "In a moment, you'll rather I did." I heard him open something, and I swear to God I'm not making this up: he started to rub me down with baby oil. He'd warmed it up in his hands, before working it into my neck and shoulders. And it was so icky. Did I mention I'm gay? I switched teams when I was fifteen (thank you Cassie Perlington, wherever you are), and never looked back. At first, his touch was so repellent, it shocked me. I wasn't used to rough, thick man fingers on my person. I winced as he worked my shoulder blades, but he hit this pocket of tension, and as I relaxed, waves of dizziness washed over me. He whispered, "Yes, Nina. The more relaxed you become, the more you'll enjoy yourself." Fifteen minutes later, I could not get enough of Arturo's slick fingers on my skin, and I started loving the way my shoulders were slipping around in his hands. It was like I was watching myself in a movie. There were things he was doing to the nape of my neck that nearly made me drool. The very ickyness of everything that was happening - me, drugged and incarcerated, getting molested with a Johnson & Johnson product by a coked-up gangster - was making me feel way sexy like a porn star. Then his lips were at my ear. "Do you feel like talking now?" "Oh..." Experimentally, I pictured his face between my legs. "I injected you with something very nice," he explained, rubbing my back. "Nearly everything I do to you will put you into a deep, relaxing trance." "Deep..." I breathed. "That's right. I just want you to do two things: relax and obey." I leaned into his hands. "Relax... And obey." "Yes, that's it. Now I will ask you some questions." I felt more and more conversational as he peeled my dress down and palmed my boobs. My nipples jutted out enthusiastically. "What is your mission?" That was a tough one. I frowned. "Relax and obey?" He laughed softly, then licked my ear, which made hot sparks dance in my 'gina. "I mean, why did they send you here?" "But I told you," I complained, while I wriggled around against oil and hot fingers. "I'm not a spy anymore. I'm signed to Virgin." "Your resistance is impressive. But I want you deeper into your trance, Nina." My head lolled forward. "Yes." "I want you to go much, much deeper." "Yes." "What are you doing here?" "I came to the party with Christa." "What is your mission?" "I'm not on any mission." I shifted around in the chair. I was perfectly happy to answer more questions, but I had an unfamiliar craving for a hard dick. He sighed. "All right. I will ask you again, after you are more relaxed." More relaxed? My head was buzzing, my mouth hung open. There was a wet spot on my chair. It was hard to imagine being more relaxed. Behind me, Arturo briskly undressed himself. I turned around to get a look at him, but he faced me away, steered me over to a desk, and had me kick out of my heels. Then he slipped my panties down, flipped up my dress and bent me over. Before I could prepare myself, there was a substantial meat-stick sliding into me. It was that fast. I realized with a certain drug-addled satisfaction that the sight of me - glistening, with my dress bunched up around my stomach - must have made Arturo very hard. It was so strange, getting banged over a desk by a stranger. By a man, even. And it was that strangeness that made my cheeks flush. Made my clit swell. Made me creep up on tiptoes to improve the angle. Whatever he'd dosed me with, it was making sex very, very good. In turn, the sex was making me more docile each passing minute. Sex was hypnotizing me: it was his rhythm, not his meat that was making my wits run down my thigh. I focused on his slow gait, the way he took me to the hilt with every stroke. I was so tight, and every nerve ending in my labia blazed. I began to see a flash of color every time he pulled back. My jaw worked in time to the colors. In a minute, there was a noise along with the colors. It took another minute for me to realize I was cooing in time with him. He grabbed my hips to improve his leverage. I backed into him eagerly. He gently bit my ear and said, "I want you to come for me, Nina." I was so wet. But I wasn't so far gone that I could peak on command.I wanted to say, "Well, then take care of it, Captain Bend-Me-Overton." What I actually said, well, panted was, "I can't come like this. Turn me around." He withdrew, spun me around roughly. There was a great crash as he swept his hand across the desk, pushing everything to the floor. Then, with great care, he got me out of my delicate blue dress. Now I was starkers, and he scooped me up in his arms, depositing my bare bum onto the cool desktop. I'd barely opened my legs to him before he slipped back inside me. And we were off! His thumbs were brushing over my nipples as he licked my collarbone. Oooo, that's what I'd been missing. I threw my head back and gasped. If you ask any of my ex-lovers, they'll testify that I'm a wildcat in the sack. I clamped my little legs around Arturo like a vice and scratched the hell out of his back. All that just egged him on. One of his big hands gripped my arm, while his other hand stroked my back, just above my ass. Clever Arturo changed his thrust, grinding into my clit. My skin tingled alarmingly as I shook and groaned. I crammed my open mouth against his chest and made a noise intended as encouragement. Possessive fingers cupped my ass. The center of my life was our slippery, rocking point of contact, and the shivery waves emanating from that point. I gulped for air so I could keep making the sounds that were connected to the waves that he was giving me, one after the other. Presently, my clit became unbearably hard. My cheeks burned. My thighs began to buck around him. My chest was scarlet. My mouth was frozen in an "o," but it seemed like hours before the scream actually left my lips. Sweat broke through baby oil as I keened and convulsed and melted away, until I felt warm and invisible. Arturo had a savage orgasm himself, but I barely noticed. He was right about the drug: after I came, I was so deeply entranced that I couldn't even stand up on my own. I'm sure I looked like a passed-out sorority bimboid, freshly date-raped after unwisely hooking up with the star quarterback. And my troubles were just beginning. I remember being gently roused by Arturo. I was naked, on a soft couch in a large guest room. He'd put his suit back on and was thoughtfully washing my vee with a warm cloth. "That's right," he coaxed. "There's my lovely spy." It seemed like only a few minutes had passed, but I couldn't be sure. And since I couldn't even formulate a sentence, I just squeezed my thighs around the washcloth. "I must make an appearance at my party and tend to some business," he said. "Before I go, you will make a call to your lovely friend. I'm told she has been looking for you for about twenty minutes." He gave me some elaborate instructions, which I seriously doubted I'd be able to follow. I was mildly surprised to find myself dialing Christa's cell, even more surprised at my chirpy voice when she answered. "Hey girl! Where you been?" Christa sounded a little high, but professional. "Chillin'. I was going to ask you the same. Where are you? Don't tell me you left without me." I giggled knowingly. "Up in Arturo's room..." Christa was scandalized. "No you are not..." "I'm afraid one thing led to another," I explained. Arturo smiled his encouragement. He was being very thorough with the washcloth. "Do tell!" Christa implored. But I stuck to my lines, apologetically informing her that I'd be staying the night and possibly flying back to Sydney later in the week, and would she be a dear and let everyone at the label know? Christa assured me that her feelings weren't hurt and that she'd pass along my travel plans. Then she asked, "Catch you on the flipside?" I blinked, unsure how to answer, but Arturo had instructed me to act naturally. I decided on a cheerful "Hoo-roo!" and closed up the phone. He took it from my hands and pocketed it. Instead of getting the wild, intimate night I'd hinted at to Christa, I was left alone in a big bed, in the dark. The only thing I wore in the chilly, air-conditioned guest room was a pair of headphones. As I drowsed, Arturo's voice tickled the inside of my head: a series of suggestions repeated over and over. Eventually, the sun began to seep in through the curtains. I remember servants fussing over me, treating me like some sort of concubine. I was bathed, fed, carefully anointed with suntan oil, dressed in a lime bikini, and placed outside, in a deck chair next to a ridiculously large swimming pool. I still felt pretty much the same as the moment Arturo blew his load into me, so I lazed in the sun without a care in the world. I was about to fall asleep again when I heard movement and twisted around in my chair to see what was up. Two Secret Service-looking guys quietly emerged from the house and flanked the back door. Just as I started to turn back around, Arturo appeared, exchanged a look with the man to his right, and walked briskly toward me. The voice in those headphones I'd been hooked up to all night had dramatically changed my opinion of him. He was wearing a robe, and he looked so virile and dashing. I gave him a smile and a flirty wave, my shoulder bashfully meeting my chin. He liked that. "Good morning," he said as he eased himself into the deck chair next to mine. "I trust you slept well?" "Like a baby," I assured. He nodded. "Now that you've had a chance to sleep on it, don't you think it's time to be honest with me?" I couldn't remember ever being dishonest with him. "What are you going on about?" "I want to know the details of your mission and what GIA intended to learn about me," he said patiently. He was still worried about that ridiculous spy thing, and his bringing it up was starting to feel like foreplay. I thought it was kind of endearing. "Baby, I told you. I'm not a spy anymore." I reached out with a toe to lift his robe. Arturo sat up quickly and grabbed my ankle. It didn't hurt, but I was surprised by his speed. "Nina, you will tell me why GIA sent you." He was speaking loudly, clearly. I gave him one of my famous looks, the kind that tends to make the recipient forget that anyone else exists in the world. His grip on my ankle loosened, so I took the opportunity to hop up and straddle his waist. "Look," I said, brushing my lips against his. "You and I both know that I'd do anything you asked. I could never lie to you." I nibbled on his ear. "I don't work for GIA anymore." He just sat there, taking in my affections, carefully watching my eyes even though my boobs were right under his nose. I was a little scared, because I could tell he'd had a few lines for breakfast. The bloke had a nasty habit and a tendency to get violent, as my bruised cheek could attest. But I guess I forgot how incredibly fucking charming I can be. His big hands encircled my waist, and he smiled broadly. "I'm sure you have no peer among your fellow agents..." he began. I cut him off by slipping my tongue between his lips. After an elaborate kiss, I insisted, "I am not a goddam agent," breathing the words onto his face. His hands traveled up my abdomen. "It's been fun trying to break you, and it appears the job is not finished." He punctuated this thought with a kiss of his own. "I estimate that I have another day or so to interrogate you before arousing suspicion from your handlers." Another kiss. I started ever so gently squeezing my hips against his. "I will try my own methods once more, and if they don't work, I will bring in a specialist this evening." "What specialist?" I asked, as I felt the familiar sting on my hip. Did this guy always keep happy drugs on his person? He concentrated on giving me the injection, then kissed me again. I was already starting to feel wobbly. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that." He waited patiently as I fought to stay astride him during the head rush. When I started to sway, he informed me, "I've given you a much stronger dose this time. I do enjoy our witty repartee, but I'm running out of time." My lips were quite loose. "You paranoid fuck," I said tenderly. "How many ways do you want me to say it? I'm not lying to you." I felt around for his dick, underneath the robe, and gave it a good squeeze. He grabbed my hips and lifted me up. "I'd like it very much if you'd jump into the pool." I was obeying him before I could even try to wonder if it was a good idea for me to throw my fucked-up self into the water. I tossed my hair back, stepped away from him, and dove into the deep end. When I surfaced, I noticed he'd joined me. I was glad he wanted to do me in the water, because his gardener was piddling around the yard, along with a couple of maids, and his guards. It wasn't the most intimate setting. Plus, I was slick with suntan oil and chlorine, and my wet bikini looked fabulous. I felt like the sun-kissed summer Goddess of the Pool. I raised my arms to the pool deck in invitation. He did something behind my neck, then behind my back, and I saw my bikini top float by. I wrapped my legs around him and said, "Do whatever you want with me." But I should've been more specific, because he told me to get out of the water and lie down on the deck. My cheeks burned with embarrassment as I climbed the ladder, topless in front of his staff, and meekly took my place on the hot concrete. Warm water dribbled off of me and made a hot puddle under my back. Arturo emerged from the pool and created some shade over me for a moment. I thought he was admiring my bod, but I heard a soft thud next to me. "On this," he proclaimed. I turned clumsily to see a huge clear plastic float. I guess he didn't want me to get abrasions from the rough concrete. Either that, or he had some colorful fantasies about fucking young, blond pool nymphs like myself.I was eager for his odd brand of man-love, so I hopped onto the float and peeled off my wet bikini bottoms. The drug was really kicking in now, and the intensity was uncomfortable. I kept almost forgetting that he was going to fuck me in front of several of his employees. I'm red right now, just thinking about it, but at the time it was reduced to a vague bother. He pushed my legs apart and climbed on top of me. The float groaned under us. He wasn't hard yet, which was a little insulting. Maybe it was because we were putting on a show for his employees. He began to grind his semi-limp dick against my very warm, moist labia, and I sucked his earlobe to encourage him. His cock kept brushing my clit, and about the time I was ready to come, he tentatively pushed inside me. He slid all the way in, real easy, and barely a few thrusts later, I was helplessly shivering against his hips as I came. I was limp in afterglow, but he was just getting warmed up. All I could do was just lie there, feeling my wet skin squeak against the float, while he gave me a proper banging. My hair was stuck to my face, and my feet were starting to get sunburned, but Arturo never let up. When I remembered where I was, I came instantly, which happened every few minutes. And every orgasm melted me into that plastic float a little more. He didn't show any signs of coming any time soon. He was, in short, a fuck machine. I think he banged me for half an hour, while I took to dozing off between orgasms. I'm guessing, but he seemed to get a thrill out of fucking me while I was asleep, and an even bigger thrill when I'd suddenly wake up and have another savage climax. I guess I wasn't conscious when he shot his wad. He gently tapped me awake, then we went through the same song and dance about the Spy Thing. Then he got very angry, and I passed out. When I finally came to, I was lying on linen sheets. Dressed in my bikini, with a couple of odd accessories. One was a gas mask; some kind of hospital thing. I didn't like the way the gas smelled, or the way it made me want to hurl. When I realized I had electrodes dangling from my forehead, I tried to sit up. A bald, bespectacled man unceremoniously shoved me back down. "Just relax, Nina," Arturo soothed from somewhere in the room. "Soon you'll have no more worries." I didn't like the sound of that. "What's going on?" I slurred. "You've left me with no other option, Agent Suenaga-Wentley," he shot back. I felt the prickle of intense fear, which didn't get on well with my intense nausea. "What are you going to do to me?" "My methods, thus far, have been temporary," he explained, as if to a pre-schooler. "In a few days, you'd recover. My associate will try a more permanent solution. He will extract the information I require, and after that, you'll belong to me." I wanted to go ahead and faint, before I got sick. But the idea of being the property of Arturo for the rest of my life was even more revolting. "Please," I began, but the room started to spin. Then I heard a familiar voice say, "I think Ms. Nina is all finished here." Followed by lots of panicked scrambling and the distinct bip-bip of a silenced pistol. The bald man pitched awkwardly over me, and I felt something wet splash onto my stomach. Then strong hands ripped the gas mask off my face, and the most beautiful woman who ever existed kissed my forehead. "Let's get you out of here, kid," said Assistant Director Akiko Masumi. "Oh God, baby!" I warbled. My voice was thick with the gas I'd been anaesthetized with. "I'm so glad to see you! This bloke thought I..." "Shhhh-shhh-shh," she soothed, rubbing my temples. "We're going home." I relaxed, drinking in her calm, professional self, resplendent in what I liked to call her Uniform: black tank, black cargo pants and boots. Then something in my guts demanded my attention. "Sorry," I warned. "I'm going to be sick now." She chivalrously directed my head toward her boots as I did the Technicolor Yawn. So that's my story about how working for GIA got me kidnapped and almost turned into a turnip. Like I said earlier, you won't find stories like that in the brochure. Think about it. For those of you dying to know how my love life turned out, read on. After Akiko collected me from a now very dead Arturo's home, we spent a few days at a hospital in L.A., where the doctors decided I was none the worse for wear, and could go home. Akiko flew with me to Sydney, which was nice, because I had this lingering tendency to sit very quietly, waiting to be told what to do. She stayed with me at my apartment, and when I was up to it, we had what I'd like to think was the best makeup sex ever. Ever ever ever. At least, all the broken shit in my bedroom will attest to that. There were no arguments when I announced to my manager that I wanted to record my record in Sydney. The suits at Virgin were horrified to learn that I'd been abducted while in the States, and shocked that I had a mysterious connection to the Shadowy Forces (i.e., the love of my life) that had promptly terminated the perpetrator. They wanted to know more than Akiko and I told them; there were remarks about National Security and knowing winks. Somehow, all the cloak and dagger stuff made them love me even more. I had to intervene when they made noises about firing Christa. It only took a few minutes to convince them that what went down in Arturo's mansion was a little beyond her skill set, and that she shouldn't be punished for it. A lovely, handwritten letter of thanks showed up a week later, signed "Catch you on the flipside, Love, Christa." One night I asked Akiko, "How did you find me?" I'd asked before, but she got a certain look on her face that I can elicit when I run my yap too much. This time she looked embarrassed. "You're not going to like it," she warned, but I just kissed her until she got over it. She explained that she'd been keeping tabs on me, and when I went to L.A., she just "happened" to have business in San Francisco. She'd made arrangements with Christa, who was led to believe that Akiko represented a private security company; so private I didn't need to know about it! The night of the party, Christa thought I sounded weird on the phone, and she got worried the next day because she rang my cell, like, a zillion times and I never picked up. She felt that not having contact with me for twelve hours fell within the parameters stipulated by Akiko as a "possible situation," and dutifully rang her up. It didn't take long for Akiko to come charging to my rescue. "So," I said, running my fingers through her hair. "You were stalking me ever since we broke up." "Yeah," she whispered, absurdly adorable in her embarrassment. "You didn't think I could watch out for myself," I observed, loving how squirmy she got. "Well..." she attempted. I just looked at her, milking the moment. But not for long. "Thank you baby," I said. We're looking for an apartment, now that she's transferred to GIA Sydney. But don't jinx me, because we just started looking yesterday, and I don't know how this is going to play out. Wish me luck!	null	null	Authors/AK_Home/Nina's_Story.txt
84,025	Revelations	Kitten (MF role-play)	You ring the doorbell, and I open to find you completely soaked. You've been caught in a sudden rain shower, without an umbrella or raincoat, and figured you could make it to the house without getting too wet. Well, you were wrong. You're shivering, so I help you get your shoes off and then lead you off to the bathroom. "You look like a drowned kitten," I say, as I start helping you out of your clothes, "which gives me an idea." You look at me with a questioning expression, but you're too cold and wet to ask what I'm up to. We get you out of your cold, wet clothes and into a hot shower, and I go to prepare the game I've thought of. You step out of the shower, your body looking good enough to eat, glistening wet and with droplets running down, making me wish they were my fingers or my cum. I stand ready with hot towels (I put them in the dryer while you showered) and help you dry off. When you're all dry (except maybe for...), you start looking for some dry clothes, but I stop you. "I rescued a wet kitten out of the rain, and now I want the love of that kitten as my reward." I pull you after me into the bedroom and ask you to put on what I've laid out on the bed. You laugh as you see what it is, but dutifully put on the half-bra, suspenders, stockings, and elbow-length gloves in grey silk, with fake fur trimmings. I finish it off by putting on a "cat ear" rig and a collar in grey fur with markings the color of your hair in front, making up the letters P U S S Y. "There, now you are my little kitten," I say and pet your sexy bum. "Are you hungry, little kitten?" I ask, and stop you with a kiss when you start to answer. "You're a kitten; kittens don't speak." You smile at me and purr, then you nibble at my fingertips. "OK, so you are hungry; come with me to the kitchen then." I'm about to leave the bedroom, wondering if you'll follow me on all fours or just walk, when you suddenly land on my back. You lock your arms and legs around me and start nibbling and kissing my neck and shoulders. "OK then pussy, I'll carry you to the kitchen and check if we've got something to feed hungry pussies." I carry you to the kitchen and then ask you to let go so I can find some food for you. I take a small saucer and fill it with milk, then put it on the floor. "Come on pussy, you like milk, don't you? Lap it up, kitten." You look at me with an "Are you serious?" look, but when I grin at you, you shrug and go down on hands and knees and start lapping it up. My cock throbs at the sight of you poking your ass up in the air and the way it moves when you drink the milk like a kitten. I pick up a few items and put them in a bag so you don't see what they are. I look to see if you've finished your milk, and you have... you have also disappeared. I find you in front of the large mirror in the hall. You're admiring your outfit in the mirror and rubbing the soft fur trimmings of your gloves against your body. Is it just my imagination, or have your breasts almost outgrown that half-bra? You notice me watching and jump me again. This time we're front to front, and I can feel your real fur against my stomach through my shirt. I can also feel your tongue and mouth as you attack my face and neck. I make it back to the bedroom without accident, even though you're in my face all the time. I put down the bag of... stuff and say, "I suddenly feel so tired, I think I'll go to bed." You start helping me undress, but I tell you that is not a kittenish thing. You pout but don't seem disappointed for long as you kneel down and start rubbing your face and body against my crotch and legs. I finish undressing and, to your surprise, I walk over to the bed instead of letting you keep licking my balls. I crawl under the sheets, and you crawl to my side and meow questioningly. "Yes, you may sleep on my bed," I say, and pat the vacant spot beside me, "Come on, kitten, curl up beside me now." You get on the bed, curl up beside me, and frown at me. I merely smile, kiss you, and then turn over and turn the light off. I lie on my side facing away from you and wonder if you'll be so patient I have to move again, but before long you're on all fours on the bed licking my cheek. I turn my head and give you a long, deep French kiss, sucking a little on your tongue, then fucking your mouth with mine. Then you suck a little on mine, and when you give it a nibble, I use it as a sign you're still hungry. "Oh, but we forgot to feed you properly, kitten, you must be starved." I grab a can of whipped cream out of the bag, and you grin wickedly at me. I lie spread-eagle on my back on top of the covers and start applying whipped cream from the can to various parts of my body. You lick cream off my shoulders and my chest. You lick it from the palms of my hands and from my neck. You lick it out of my navel, and I just love the feel of your tongue. When I spray some on my nipples, you lick and suck it off and then playfully bite one of them. I give you a little smack on your bottom and tell you not to use your teeth. You grin and bite the other, and I push you so you end up lying with your head on my thighs. You look at my cock, and then at my face, licking your lips and mewing almost inaudibly at me. "Mrrrrrow." I grin and apply lots of cream to my crotch. You attack it with tongue and mouth, starting by cleaning off all the cream except what's on my balls and cock. You then suck my balls into your mouth and keep sucking, rubbing them with your tongue until I'm sure there can't possibly be even the taste of cream left. It's almost painful, but oooh, what a turn-on. Pulling away from my crotch still sucking slightly, you let my balls go with a pop, and a groan from me. You grin at me and mimic snapping at my balls; I'm almost convinced you're not going to bite me, so I manage not to move. You give my wet, very clean balls one more lick and then start on my cock. You start by licking a narrow strip off, all along the shaft to the top. You meow happily before you take the head into your mouth and suck. I moan again as you suck the cream off the swollen head of my cock and start swirling your tongue around it. You lick your way down until the head reaches your throat, there you stop. I can see your tongue as you try to lick the cream off further down without taking my cock down your throat. You make several token attempts at stretching your tongue further down my shaft, and then suddenly ram the throbbing head right down your throat. You make extremely kinky sounds of gagging and choking as you lick the cream from the base of my shaft, with the head down your throat, and then you pull your head back so fast, I can hear it pop out from your throat, and I groan as it slaps against my belly. You crawl up my body to kiss me, and then flip over and lie on your back beside me. Spreading your legs wide, you mew at me again, and I know exactly what you want. "Yes, kittie, I'm hungry too." I lick the cream off you like you did off me and pay special attention to your teats. Good thing this fur is fake, or it'd cost a fortune to get clean. When I leave your breasts, the nipples are rock hard and almost painfully sore. I start applying whipped cream to your pussy, and you mew as the cold stuff melts on your hot sex. You gasp a little when I push the nozzle into you, and open your eyes wide and groan when I fill the inside of your steaming cave with refrigerated cream. I start licking the rapidly melting cream off your red, puffy lips, sucking them clean, and then licking them again as melting cream runs down. I lick your pussy clean without touching your hole or clit, making you moan and mew like crazy. Then when the only cream left is what is melting on your clit and dripping out of your pussy, I lick you clean from asshole to clit and feast on whipped cream and pussy juice. I ram my tongue into you to eat out the sweet mixture, rubbing my face against your pussy, making a real mess. I suddenly get a bright idea and move away from you, lying down on my back again. "Sit on my face, pussy, so I can really eat you out. Go for it, kitten." You are only too pleased to follow that order. Sitting over my face, your pussy feeds me a mixture consisting more and more of your own sweet dew, and with your pussy juice dripping down my chin and coating my throat inside and outside, I suck your clit to a powerful orgasm. You seem totally drained of energy as you fall down on the bed, but I still haven't had my climax. "On your feet, kitten!" I order. But you look at me and let your tongue hang out of your mouth to show you can't be bothered to move. "Don't be a dog now, kitten," I order and start setting you up for a good fuck. With your face half-buried in a pillow and your shoulder on the bed, making your ass stick up obscenely, you're a sight from a perv's fantasies (mine).I push your knees a little further together, so your ass sticks up a little more, and kneel behind you with my cock in my hand. "Ready or not, here it comes," I say as I ram it into you, almost making you flop flat on the bed. As I start fucking you, you manage to get your hands on the headboard and your body in a more horizontal position. I can almost see your tits in the reflection in the stainless steel headboard, but your hair is in the way, so I fuck a little slower and lean forward and gather it all up in one hand so I can hold it out of my way. I fuck you harder and harder, gripping your hips to get force in my thrusts, and your tits bounce around nicely in the reflection. I ram my hot cock into your kitty pussy over and over again, filling you all up and then leaving you empty before ramming it home again. When I meet your eyes in the reflection and they look like you're not totally home, I reach down with one hand to rub your clit while I fuck you to another climax. The feel of your pussy contracting around my cock brings me over the edge, and I fill your fuck tunnel with my hot, sticky come. I think you come again as I collapse over you with the last spurts, and grab your tits... but I'm not sure, because my mind is all gone. I'm not sure how we got cleaned up and everything, the last I remember is whispering to you, "Don't you think this will make a nice litter? You're going to have kittens, babe." Well, it seemed like a great joke at the time.	null	null	Authors/revelations/Kitten.txt
84,115	Crystal Cave	The Right Thing	You know, I'll never be certain that I did the right thing... or that's what I'm thinking now, at least. I seem always to have fluctuated between being one thing and wanting to be another, or... if that is possible, vice versa. This present situation started with a guy I suppose you could call a genius, if you can define the term, I used to know... still know, drat it, but not the same way as I used to. Anyway, this man was into psychology and hypnosis, neither of which I believe in at all. He'd invented some stuff, things that I could not, didn't really want, to comprehend. Just the same, he showed me some of his inventions that, although I don't believe them, he actually made happen. I think it's all those pills and stuff, but he said it was his psychological analysis of my mind that made me so ambivalent about my present condition. I thought psychology was supposed to cure people of things like being a nut, or drugs and alcohol, or being excessively worried, and things like that. But he said... his name's Manoel Barranca, by the way... Manoel said that it could also influence the way a person thinks, if applied using a combination of one of his screwy inventions, psychology and hypnosis. Anyway, I was feeling kinda down for a period there, so what did I do? Tried to get really drunk, which with me is a very bad sign. I mean, like, I can't hold my booze, but I think I can and while tanked to the ears, I am without doubt the most charming, irresistible man a woman ever saw! Uh-huh. Well, it seems I tried to hit on this one woman and this big bruiser of a guy she was with took more than mild exception to my pass. He hit me hard, but although I'm small I'm wiry and tanked up as I was I thought I could handle him and the six guys he'd come in with. Manny found out some time later it was Manny who grabbed me and hauled me the hell out of there. I heard from Manny that he'd put an end to the guy's trying to kick me in the gonads by cold-cocking him. Not only that but he took me back to his place to fix me up, too. I was bleeding pretty hard, it seems. Well, Manny and me were old buddies, not always good buddies, but we got along okay, enough that he acted happy to have me for a guest... and said nothing about how long I could stay, or I should pay for anything... not at first, anyway. I better tell you about me and Manny. Now, we'd never before gotten into a situation just like that night... you know, Manny didn't have any guest bed, or a couch, or like that, so I'd have had to sleep on the floor, but he invited me to sleep in his bed... with him. Now Manny is a big guy, maybe 200 pounds, six foot and wide. I am a small guy, five foot five and if I'm soaking wet I might weight 110. Besides being an inventor, a hypnotist, a psychologist, an M.D. (non-practicing) and a general wacko, Manny is a weightlifter, so his muscles are like balloons, his thighs are huge and he takes up a helluva lotta room in a king size bed, even. Yeah, he did have a king size bed, but it took two thirds to three quarters of it to accommodate him. Well, in the morning I woke up with a rod poking me in the lower back, a weight across my arm, and heavy breathing behind me. I admit I lay there wondering where the hell I was for about three seconds and not knowing even then, I got scared, jerked back with the elbow under the weight and got Manny right in the sternum so that he "woofed" and farted loudly... with considerable stench. I noticed in all the commotion that started right then that I did not, as I usually did in the morning, have a hard on. Too frightened. From the effects of Manny's fart and the situation of him looking like he wanted to use me for a bar bell I was into the bathroom with the door locked before he managed to get out of bed. "Joseph," he bellowed through the locked door, "you are going to owe me one for last night and that belt in the gut, damn you!" Man, I knew he was mad, 'cause he never called me by any names but "Joe" or, kidding, "Josephine" when we were in friendly mood. He called me Josephine 'cause I was so much smaller than he was, and he'd kid me... if we were being friends, that is... with me being his date if we were going out together. He never carried that too far, never even hinted at anything like a homo relationship in front of anyone else, even made sure that no one could even think that we were anything but good buddies. As we were, when we were in a good mood. We were both straight, by the way, in case you're thinking "he doth protest too much?" I came out of the bathroom naked, after taking a quick shower, listening all the time for Manny to break down the door and take me in hand. He was waiting outside the door, but he didn't say anything, just walked past me and shut the bathroom door quietly. That was almost more frightening than if he'd cursed me some more. I got dressed and started rooting around in his cupboards and fridge for things to make some breakfast with by the time he came out of the bathroom. I had a big package of bacon in one hand and three eggs in the other... I was gonna make an omelet for the two of us... and the look on Manny's face was enough to make me raise the bacon in what I thought was self-defense. "Nah. Forget it, Joe. I didn't mean anything by what happened in the bed, though it still hurts, you bum. Go 'head, fix breakfast. Three slices of bacon for me, onions, peppers, red and green for the omelet in the drawer there." He sat down and began reading the previous night's paper. So, I fixed us a good breakfast, neither of us saying anything while we ate. I'd started the Mr Coffee®, so we had coffee, although I like tea a lot better, now, and some toast in his wacky toaster with the one side that toasted about twice as fast as the other, neither side slow about burning the bread unless you kept a close eye on it... I had some kinda jam on the table, I forget what, spreading it liberally on my half-burned, half-floppy slice of bread, when Manny finally spoke, he having finished everything else to eat on the table. "I told you, Joe, you owed me, right? I'm not angry now, but you still owe me for last night... 'n' this morning. I think I know what the guy wanted to put the boots to you for. I think I can cure you and get you feeling better about yourself, if that's what you want." "What the hell do you mean, 'cure' me? I haven't anything wrong with me. The 'monster' didn't try to kill me for anything but being drunk and trying to put the make on his girlfriend. He didn't try to kick me because I'm sick, probably because he is!" "Well, look, Joe, let me put this as a friend, huh? Last night in your sleep, you were moaning about you wanted to be close to a woman. You didn't say a thing about you wanted to be with a woman, or be a woman, just be close to a woman. Now, do you think that's sick? It sounds to me like you wanna be like a woman, right? You kept that up for over an hour in your sleep!" "If I kept you awake, then I'm sorry," I said, and I could feel my face getting red. "Joe... Josie... Josephine, would you like to be... like a girl? Are we good enough buddies you can tell me the truth?" I thought about our friendship for about a minute, looking at him—glaring at him, really—and I thought really hard about his inventions, the degree, his psychology and his weight lifting, for God's sake! What that had to do with my decision I'll never know, but I said, in a small voice, "Yes." "Yes? You would like to be?" "I'm not sure. But, look, Manny, I'm not gonna make love to you, or you to me, hear? I'll still be a hetero male, I think, even if you can make me like a woman, right?" "We-ell, Josie, I'm not sure how you'll feel, but we'll see, huh?" "I guess." So casually I changed my life, so damn' casually! Was I thinking? I thought I was at the time, but why did I think about weightlifting, of all the damn' things I could have considered? "Okay, Josie. This means a regimen of diet and pills. You really up for that?" "I said 'yes,' didn't I?" says I, not yet regretting my decision. Besides, small guys gotta stick by their decisions or they're gonna be wimps. Right? So, that's how it started. I'd gotten smashed and Manny, as I finally found out, was the guy who rescued me. I guess I was convinced I owed him. The pills weren't bad. I had to take two in the morning, two at noon and two before bedtime... or three when I got up and three at night, but they were of three different kinds. Manny had me move in with him, so he could "observe" me. I wasn't broke or anything, so I bought a couch and a single bed for me, with sheets and the works. I also did some food shopping, 'cause I could cook better than Manny. The diet was a bitch. I'd never been one for salads, almost fatless meats and such like, but Manny backed up my own stupidity and made me eat stuff like that and some special goo he'd concocted and I, God help me, cooked those messes. Manny made good royalties and I wasn't doing so bad, so we decided I would work until the changes started, staying just the same with Manny. Nothing seemed to happen for about five weeks. I seemed to be getting lazy at work, though. I used to jump in a help guys move heavy stuff, but not any more. My arms seemed less muscled, so I was a little less apt to pick up stuff and carry it if it looked "heavy," although I had carried stuff a lot heavier without thought before. I was perhaps a little quicker to want to cook—Manny and I had alternated when I'd moved in with him—and I discovered the joys of "doing" clothes with the good washer and dryer Manny had. Hell, a couple of times I was even looking to hang out the wash on a clothes-line, but Manny had no back yard to speak of! I was taking a shower one morning when I suddenly realised that I had boobs.They weren't big, but the bulges they made under my arms were enough to draw my notice as I crossed an arm over to soap my... was it a chest, still, or was it a bosom? Chest, I decided. "Bosom" would mean both boobs, I thought. It felt kind of good when I soaped them and then rubbed them "to get the dirt off." I saw that my gut was flatter except for a rounded little belly below my waistline. I still had my cock and balls, but they looked a little bit smaller. Was my waist slimmer? I thought so, and as I dried, patting instead of rubbing roughly now, I saw that it was a good deal slimmer. In the tall, thin mirror, I could see the increased contrast in width between my shoulders (and those breasts!), my waist, and my hips. They were certainly broader in contrast to my slimmer waist. My calves looked slimmer, but the dimensions had changed so that they were curvier; my thighs seemed to be thicker than they had been, too. I placed one hand on my cock and did not feel any great interest, nothing particular, so I felt at my scrotum and got no reaction from my testicles, nothing at all! They felt a little bit smaller, though, and the skin was looser. I tried sucking them up with my muscles, and they only came part way. The diet was obviously working, and I suppose the pills must have been, but Manny, who came in just then because I must have made a little yell (a shriek, if you insist), said, as he looked at me more closely than he had been regarding me with my clothes on (I still wore man's clothing), muttered, "Time for a boost. How do you feel, Josie?" "Pretty well, thank you, Manny. What's this about a 'boost?'" "Your pills have taken effect, Josie, as they should have. It's just time (five weeks, eh?) to increase the dosage a bit, not much. I don't think you'll feel much different, but you'll see more results in the next three weeks." "What's going to happen, then, Manny?" "Tell me, are you still feeling like a man, or...?" "Uhm. I don't know if I feel like a... man exactly... noticed my balls have no feeling... not much feeling in my penis... but I don't want a man, if that's what you mean." "Do you have any desire... No, can that. Just a sec." He left the room and came back in under a minute with a glossy photo of one of the more luscious nudes I've seen. Her legs were spread, knees up and wide, no hair at her crotch, labia showing trim and tight, her right hand at about her waist. Her boobs were shoved out with that other hand behind her head, and her nipples were sticking out for what looked like a good half-inch. I looked at the photo with close attention, and I felt something between my legs, but the most amazing thing was that I began to pant, just like a dog on a hot day. I wished the babe was present, and my head between those lovely legs, my tongue licking at her inner thighs before she opened wide and allowed me at her labia. "Well, Josie, you don't have an erection, but there is some swelling around your cock, so I guess you're still oriented toward women." "Why?" I asked in some fear, "wasn't I supposed to be?" I was becoming unsure of just what Manny was doing to me. I guess I could have just played dumb and not actually taken any more pills, but I had to admit that I was feeling really good those days and although I had not told Manny, I had stopped the pills for a couple of days and I began to feel as though I was missing something, so I had started again, making up for the days I missed by taking one extra every time... That made me have a creeping itch inside that made me want to move my hips back and forth against my pillow, but I restrained myself. I didn't want Manny getting more ideas - I remembered that rod in the small of my back those five weeks ago. I kept remembering that photo. The girl was really pretty, but I didn't exactly want to fuck her, I wanted to be lying beside her, to "make love" to her, and somehow that didn't involve a penis in my state of mind. Funny, indeed. Even sober I'd considered myself something of a cocksman. Now all I wanted was to lie down beside some sweet woman and slowly stroke her breasts, kiss her, lick and suck on her nipples, maybe "go down" on her. Huh! Would I ever get a chance? If I looked like a woman, even if I still felt like a man, and I had a cock and balls and all that, how the hell could I get alongside a woman who'd let me make love to her? That thought, which became more and more prominent in my cogitations over the next three weeks or so, was beginning to worry the hell out of me as I changed even more. By the beginning of week nine, I had to wear a bra, I had bloomed to a C cup, my waist was markedly narrower, and my hips more pronounced, even in men's clothing, so I had to quit work. Although I had some vacation coming, it would not be long enough to take care of my changing. Too many of the guys at work were beginning to notice and remark on my change of figure. Despite being short and slim to start with, the growth of my boobs and the increasingly obvious curves I was sporting were cause for more than one snide, and some not so snide, comments. One guy even propositioned me, but he was supposed to be gay, so I wasn't too hard on him. What? Of course I turned him down! What do you think I... well, naturally, if he was gay, why would he proposition a girl? He made the proposal sound like a straight guy to a... to a what? I was just as glad I'd had to quit the job, as I discovered that I had a big separation allowance coming owing to some weird contract our union had signed some months back which covered those of us with more than ten years on the job. The day I handed in my notice, prepared to walk out right then, I had ten years and three months! My foreman was a damn' nice guy, though, and told me about the separation allowance in time for me to wait a week before I really left. That "allowance" helped me get some dresses, blouses, women's slacks, panties, and more than a couple of bras. My boobies were hurting a bit if I didn't cushion them in the right size bra, and that was almost "D." Manny had suggested in an insinuating tone that I looked very good, but I still didn't want to have anything sexual to do with him... or any man. I was beginning to want... hell, I needed... a woman! Oh, yes, I got some women's shoes, too, but the clerk sure looked at me funny when he saw the size of my feet. He didn't say anything to me, but I heard him chuckling with another clerk when he thought I couldn't hear him. I admit, I blushed, something I'd never done before. Gracious, my shoes were only size 6½ B as a man, so why should I have big feet if I was really turning into a girl? Turning?... Judas, I'd turned, and hardly realised it, even as I bought myself women's clothing and all! When I got home from buying the women's shoes, thinking about the clerk and his chuckles, I got undressed and took a really good look at myself in the tall mirror. Judas! I really looked just about like the sexiest brunette you've (or I'd) ever seen! My boobs were taut, my body was trim, with a nice, rounded pair of bottom cheeks, I had a decent face (but then I'd always been kidded about my "girly looks"), and there was no sign of my balls or my cock. I looked a lot closer, bending as far forward as possible to see all that I could. Then, not satisfied that I was learning what was really between my legs, I put my hand there and felt dampness. I put my fingers under my nose and sniffed. "Oh, it's a nice smell," I thought. I noticed that after my fingers left my crotch, I itched a little bit down there. I put my hand back and stroked the twin lips (that's what they felt like as they seemed to puff up a little bit while I stroked), and then a finger hit something that made me groan and push my crotch against the finger, hard. That felt so good I tried to get it to do it again, and I did. Man, I was pushing my hips against my slippery finger - and my other fingers slipped into a slippery place between those lips - until all of a sudden I felt something grab me inside and turn me inside out! Oh, I cried out, yelled, maybe, and thrashed around on the chair until I slowly came down off that fantastic climax. Jesus! That was so much better than any ejaculation I'd had as a kid beating off, or as a man fucking a woman, there was no comparison. I slowly recovered, but I noticed I was not drained like I'd have been if I had blown a wad. I felt good as I washed myself and dried. Putting on my panties felt good, but nothing like that orgasm, so did wrapping my boobs in a bra. I was still sensitive, but it was controllable - for now. I did feel myself lightly, and my thoughts weren't on putting something in there, but on licking something that tasted like I did on my fingers. Ah! Fingers. That's what I wanted in me, but I wanted to lick and kiss someone like me - a woman, damn it! - a lot more. Then I began really thinking. I seemed to be a complete woman, a female. I could wear clothes like a woman, I could speak like a woman. How the hell does a woman pick up a woman? Well, I thought, how does a gay guy pick up a man? In a bar? Not always, but that might work. I'd sure give it a try. Now? No, I'd better wait. Did I want to talk to Manny about it? No. I wanted, really, to find some sympathetic gal and talk to her - maybe about a lot of things. I had no idea if I was subject to the usual girl things, like cramps with menses, pregnancy (oh my god! Could I get "that way?"), and what one did if one was pregnant. I felt in control of my body, all right, I seemed to be thinking clearly... Manny came in suddenly - at least it was a sudden interruption of my thoughts - with a pretty girl on his arm. Without any preamble, she chuckled and said, "Josie, this is Anne Macklin." (That's what it sounded like, but it was really "McLane".) "She is going to help you... maybe a lot. I'll leave you two to get acquainted. 'bye." and he was gone. "Uhm."Hi, Ms. Macklin, I'm Josie." I was nervous as all get out. How was this Macklin going to help me? "Josie, please don't be nervous. First of all, please call me Anne, okay? Now, my name is spelled M-C, capital L-A-N-E. It's Scots, maybe." I didn't think so, really. Anne was definitely black, but lovely pale café-au-lait, with a thin nose but lips more full than most. She smiled. "I know, I'm black, but if we're to get on close terms..." - boy, I wouldn't mind - "...you have to know that I'm a quadroon, in the old southern terms, and...I'm a lesbian." For some reason, that made me relax all the way with the pretty woman. I reached for her, really, to pat her arm, but I had forgotten that I was buck nude. Anne laughed hard for about a minute, and I admit I joined in. We ended up, me collapsed in her arms and her kissing me frantically. Those kisses I returned eagerly, and our tongues were all of a sudden wrestling. She pulled away from me finally, not before we were both breathing hard. Hell, I was panting and I was wet, wet below. "Can we lock that door? I don't like Manny catching us." I thought she sounded a little Jamaican then, but I didn't give a rat's ass. "Yes, please, turn that deadbolt, then let's get into the bedroom!" Anne grinned at me and murmured as she began to shuck her clothing, making one or more steps toward me as she took off each item, "Oh, you can wait that long?" Uh, just barely. She was down to her long black stockings - I wondered briefly what was holding them up, but there sure wasn't time to ask - when I fell back onto the bed and she landed on top of me, her mouth plastered to mine and mine wide open for her tongue and mine to go another round. I felt her feeling around my thigh, so I opened my legs, letting her body slide between them. I knew she could, easily, for I was sopping all along my upper thighs, and I wanted her against me so much...so much. She was deft with her fingers, too, sliding them between our slippery bellies and softly into me. I writhed as she gave me increasing pleasure there while her tongue laved my breasts and made my nipples hard so that she could play-bite them, thus stoking the fires in my belly. I wanted something more, and Anne moved slowly to ensure that I got it, although I had no idea what I wanted. Her face and nibbling lips moved down my chest, stopping to lick and suck at my nips once again after kissing me, then sliding slowly, her hips, waist and ribs pressing my thighs outward until she was kissing my belly...and then...oh god, my lower lips felt the caress of her lips for the first time. I jumped a little, but she calmed me for the moment with a flick of her tongue over my clit, making me feel like fire and water had steamed me well-done in that moment. Then she worked on me with her tongue and her fingers until I was puffing, panting and trying to say "Enough, fuck me" but never letting me get my breath enough to do more than puff. I felt that internal belly build-up once more, this time so wonderful that my own earlier manipulations had no more relation to it than my boy's masturbating had to my first woman's climax. I exploded. Drained for the moment, I looked at Anne's face, looking down at me with concern, with nothing less than love. How could I possibly repay...? Dumb bitch, I told myself. "Anne, my turn!" "Oh, yes!" I raised my arms to welcome her into them, and we embraced. I rolled us over so I was on top - Anne wasn't much bigger than I, but I wouldn't be hurting her, oh, no! Very, very softly I kissed those luscious lips, and she responded as softly. I tickled her lips with just the barest tip of my tongue, moving my whole head too rapidly, so that I soon was dizzy. "Woof! Anne, wait a minute, love, I'm dizzy." "Silly girl. Josie, I just love your body on me, slide your knee up my legs, huh?" "Surely, dear. How's that?" "Kiss my tits, please?" I had never heard anyone - I mean, no girl, ever - say that word so darned sexily. Whew! I laved her with tender, increasingly strong licks, taking her nipples in my teeth softly, oh so softly, and then lip-nibbling them until she was grunting and moving her body under me and they were like little rocks. I tried to do what she had done to me, but I was too impatient, not that Anne seemed to mind. She almost shoved my head between her legs, and I savored a scented, wet cunny for the first time ever. I think she had gotten so hot from my nibbling and stroking that she needed me right then. I did my best to lick and finger her sensually, slowly working my way to her clit and then away, then thrusting my tongue into her cunny as far as I could with my fingers trilling on her cunny walls like a pianist, repeating until she yelled and bucked in the throes of a fearsome climax. We lay clutching each other for some time after that. Her first remark, in a low tone, was, "Best ever, lover, best ever." The trouble I have now is that we want to marry, and as two women, we can't, not here. We don't want, really, to go to Vermont, and neither of us could afford to go, anyway. So maybe you can see why I'm ambivalent about my sex, these days? Why I worry? I don't know, for sex, love and being together as I'd never before experienced it, is so wonderful with Anne, a sentiment with which she agrees wholeheartedly. We kicked Manny out of his own apartment - we're paying him back, I found a good job - after two weeks of his hanging around, trying to convince us that we were not meant for each other. He kept saying that lesbian relationships don't last - he wishes, is what I think.	null	null	Authors/Crystal_Cave/The Right Thing.txt
84,413	UR_Null	Long-live the mother	You can call me a model boy of Freud as I was born with an Oedipus complex. Ever since reaching puberty, I had been attracted to my mother. She was young then, attractive and full of energy. Despite my extreme horniness, I never thought that I was ever going to touch her sexually or see her naked. My mother's name is Chitra, and she is 44. She is 5'3" tall and fair in color with very smooth skin. Her hair is black and falls to the lower side of her back. She is not fat but has a slight bulge in her tummy. Her boobs are quite big and despite a little sag, look beautiful. She wears saris mostly and keeps her pallu above her head. She is a typical innocent Indian housewife who is more interested in religion than anything else. She worships the god and does all sorts of puja for the long life of my father. My dad too fully trusts her. My dad, Raman Kumar, is 52 and looks even older. Dad is rarely at home during the day as he runs a gas station nearly 18 hours a day. We are not rich, but my father's income is quite adequate, and we live reasonably well. My elder sister had got married last year and settled with her husband in a nearby town. My name is Rajul, and I am 20. After finishing my school, I am following a course of information technology. Right from childhood, a lot of my friends were older than me, so I learned about sex early. By the time I was 17, one of my friends took me to a prostitute. The name of my friend was Sajiva, with whom I was frank to discuss sex and porn. One day I told him that sex with prostitutes is becoming quite boring for me. "This is not a good sign for a young stud like you," he said. "I want to try something different." "It appears you are in love with someone," he said with conviction. "I am at least not aware of it." "Then you want to have sex with someone badly?" he asked. "Yes, that is possible, but I can't tell you her name." "Let me guess," he said. "Alright, go ahead." "Is she less than 20?" "No." "Is she someone I know?" "Yes." "Is she related to you?" "Yes..." I replied after a long pause. "Is she your... sister?" "No." "Your mom." "Shut up." "Ha-ha...ha-ha...Come on, don't be shy, we all love our moms." I admitted that since childhood, I had a crush on my mom. He asked me whether I want to fuck her or keep admiring her. I told him that I wanted to fuck my mother at least once. But it was next to impossible in our orthodox family. He said that he can think of a strategy for me to fuck my mom. "It's hugely impossible thing." "I will take it as a challenge," Sajiva said. I knew that he was putting fuel upon the fire of my lust, but I had to seek his help. A couple of days later, he told me about his plan. I started working on that plan immediately. One day my dad went to work early, and I and my mom were left with each other. When Mom offered me breakfast, I said to her, "Ma, why doesn't dad let you hire a servant? I don't look nice to see you working so much." "Son, I don't need a servant because my work keeps me fit," she said while smiling. "This aspect I forgot, sorry... you really look a lot younger than your age." "By the way, how much old do I look?" she asked laughingly. "I think you look... 33." "Dhatt... I am 43... going on 44." "Listen, mom, I will talk to dad and ask him to hire a servant." Mom was angry at first but then said, "But I will keep cooking." "Why not, mom? Nobody can cook better than you." I got closer to mom and grabbed her towards me to show how much I care for her. As she came closer, I threw a light kiss on her cheek. She blushed like a young girl but said nothing. Anyhow, I arranged for a servant for her soon. My plan was to get my mom free from her work so she should spend more time with me, but it didn't work immediately. To my surprise, mom started giving more time to her puja pat (religion). I told this to my friend, and he told me about the next part of his plan. Next day, I cornered mom and told her that I came to know about a guru named Nathan Baba in a nearby village, which really have special powers to solve people's problems. She took interest in meeting the guru but said that the village I mentioned is on the hilly area outside the town, so my father would never allow her to go to a deserted place. "There is no need to tell anything to dad, I will take you there." "But I never did anything without his permission," she said with concern in her big black eyes. "You are doing a good deed, mom; I think he will not be angry even he comes to know about it," I told her. She thought for a brief moment and said, "When can we go?" "Why not today? One should not waste time for doing something divine. It will take us only a couple of hours to go and come back on a car." "But our car is with your dad." "One of my friends has one. I can give him a call, and he will be here in five minutes." "Promise you will take responsibility if your dad gets angry." "Please change into something nice for going there." She looked towards me with surprise but went into her room without saying anything. Meanwhile, I changed into a pant/shirt and phoned Sajiva. By the time Sajiva came in his car, mom was ready. She came wearing an old brown sari. Although she was looking beautiful in that, I said to her, "Not again, this sari doesn't look nice on you." "Listen, don't tell me what to wear, I am going for a Puja and not for attending a wedding." "But where is the thali of Puja?" "Go and wait outside, I am coming with it." I went out and met my friend. "You look tense, buddy," he said. "You don't know how I convinced her for going there." "I know that by nature she is like a chili...hot chili...ha ha ha." "That is what makes her so desirable," I said jokingly. Soon Mom came out after with the thali. As she saw Sajiva, she stopped in her track. She never liked him as my friend. "What is he doing here? You know well that I don't like him," she whispered to me. "I called him here to take us to Nathan Baba." "Namaste, Chitra aunty. How are you?" Sajiva said from a distance. "I am fine," mom said to him calmly. Now mom has no alternative but to get inside the car. She was in the back seat while I was in the front seat when we moved towards the hilly area outside our town. It was already evening, and by the time we reached our destination, the light started to fade. The temple was nestled inside two small hills. There was a small mud road leading towards the temple. We walked through the narrow path and finally reached there. It was not the temple of the actual Nathan Baba. Rather, it was the one selected by Sajiva for carrying out our plan to seduce mom. When we reached there, it was empty. "Wait here, I will bring the Baba," Sajiva said and went away. "Where have you brought me, beta? This place looks desolate," mom said. "Don't be afraid, I am with you," I assured her. "I heard that a lot of people visit Baba," mom said. "They usually come in the noon." After about ten minutes, Sajiva returned with a fake guru. The guru took the thali of puja from my mom and, after looking at it, he said, "This is not enough for doing the abhishek." "Guru ji, don't worry about the expenditure, make the puja good, I will pay you," mom said. The guru nodded and asked mom and me to come forward and stand in front of him. He started chanting those mantras that were meant for a wedded couple. It was not possible to correct him during the puja, so we kept quiet. Standing along with my dream woman as her husband made my cock stir even inside the Mandir. Finally, the guru gave us Prasad, and in return, we touched his feet. "Bhagwan may keep you happy as a couple," he wished us. "Why are you saying this, Guru ji?" mom asked in anger. "It's a routine wish for a couple," he said. "This boy is not my husband, he is my son," she said. "Sorry, balika, actually, you don't look old enough to be his mother." Hearing that, mom started sobbing. I grabbed her closer to me and said, "Ma, don't get angry, it's a minor confusion." I turned to Guru ji and told him, "Be careful, Nathan Baba, you have ruined our puja." "Sorry, the original guru was not here; I am only his assistant." "What, take me away from here, son," mom was furious. I took mom to the car, and Sajay followed us soon. Once in the car, he said to mom, "Please forgive the guru, aunty. You were looking so young today that nobody can judge you as the mother of my friend." This comment cooled down my mom a lot. As it was getting very dark, she wished us to move back quickly. We started moving, but soon saw that the road was blocked near the bridge. Before we could think of an alternative, two men with guns in their hands approached us. This time I was sitting along with mom on the back seat. As she saw them, she got closer to me, and I hugged her tight. "Hide this," I said to her and put a hand over the gold necklace she was wearing. While pushing it in her blouse, I rubbed her boobs a little. One of the robbers came near us while the other held his gun on Sajiva.Mom was feeling very uncomfortable and started begging them to spare us. The one who came near us pulled the necklace from her neck and said, "Let me search for more." While searching, he pushed his hand inside her blouse. "Please don't do that, I am like your mother," she pleaded. "My friends call me mother-fucker," he replied. "Hands up," we heard Sajiva say to him, and saw him standing behind the robber. He was holding a revolver in his hands. He somehow overpowered the one standing near him. (As it was all a drama.) The robber pushed Sajiva down. Before he could stand, he saw the robber running away. He tried to go after them, but Mom screamed, "Let them go, come back." Sajiva worked on her advice and came back. After settling down again, Mom thanked Sajiva. This was good news for me to see her getting soft towards my friend. "For my friend, I can sacrifice my life, but I am sorry I failed to save your necklace," he said. "Losses do occur in life, I am not sad," she said. We started our journey, but after going a little ahead, I saw Mom was feeling very uncomfortable. I asked her what happened, and she told me she is feeling pressure and she needs to pee, but she can't control it. Please stop the car at some hotel. We failed to find any hotel, so we drove ahead. At one point, she said she can't control now. So Sajiva parked the car on the side of the road. On the side of the road, there were fields running. I told her to go in that field and relieve herself there. She was feeling a little shy, but finally, she agreed. I helped her climb down from the road to the fields and told her to go and relieve herself. I was standing on the road; suddenly, I heard a voice of Mom. I ran towards the field. When I reached near Mom, I asked her what happened, and she told me that this place is a little creepy, and she is afraid to go inside, so I told her to pee outside only, but since there was Sajiva and a chance of others to come, she was feeling shy. She asked me to accompany her inside the fields. I went with her inside the fields, and after moving to some distance, she stopped near a tree and looked back and ordered me to look the other way. My heartbeat was very high, thinking of Mom peeing. I couldn't control myself and turned back, and saw Mom has raised her sari, and her sexy white milky legs and thighs are in front of my eyes. My dick was damn hard. It was a damn chilly winter evening. Then she lowered her dark blue colored panty, that panty had nets in it. She lowered it, and her damn big milky white ass was nude in front of me. Her beautiful round buttocks with a brown crevice and puckered arse hole widened my eyes. My mouth went dry as I looked at her cunt from behind. Her pissing made me still more excited with her pissing sound. The strong smell of her urine penetrated my nostrils, and blood rose to my face. My heart was beating so fast, I was damn hard. I felt like going near to her and make her lie on that tree and insert my dick into her pussy from behind, but I controlled myself. When we reached home, Dad was still at his work. Mom asked Sajiva to come inside and have some coffee. He thanked her and requested Mom to let me spend some time with him. As soon as we were out of her sight, we shook hands with each other. "Your Mom was looking so sexy to me that for a moment I thought of raping her in the fields," he said. "Hey man, control, it's my turn," I reminded him. "Later." "Before eating a prey, you have to kill the prey." "Good, yaar." We moved to a bar and celebrated our success with strong drinks. When I returned home, it was obvious from where I was coming. By then, Father had returned. "You were drinking," Mom admonished me as she received me. There was no need to pretend, so I started moving towards my room shakily. Just inside, I fell down, and Mom came to pick me up. I put my weight on her. She slapped me and said, "Behave, what if your father knows this?" "I am sorry, Ma, Sajiva compelled me." Mom tried to help me to my bed. As she came closer to me, her mangalsutra got tangled into my locket. She tried to free it, but when she felt that it might get broken, she came down to the bed with me in a way where our chests were rubbing each other. She tried to get up, but the tangle of the locket pulled her down again. The sudden feel of her supple body took me over the moon. My cock instantly started stirring. "Ma, why are you lying with me?" I asked. "It's your damn locket that has got attached to my mangalsutra." I took off the locket from my neck and let her stand up. I don't want to make her suspicious so soon. But after her departure, I went into the bathroom and masturbated. Next day when I woke up, Father was gone, and Mom was cooking in the kitchen. "Hi, Mom, is Father gone to his work?" "No, he has gone to meet his mom in the village," she informed me. "This means he will not return back today." "He will return tomorrow." "If we two are free, Mom, we can go to a movie." "I am not interested," she said. "Please, Mom," I went to the place she was standing and hugged her from behind. I pushed my groin on her hot ass. I think she felt that, but she kept quiet, and there were no expressions on her face. "Ma, shall I help you in the kitchen?" She is avoiding eye contact. "Get ready, I will serve you breakfast in some time." I sat down at a table, and she brought tea not only for me but for her too. As I started sipping tea, I said, "Do you told anything to Dad about our visit yesterday?" "There was nothing important to tell him," she said. "Not even that incident when the pundit took you as my wife?" "The pundit was a fool, I don't look like your wife at all." "No, Mom, if you get a little prepared and go to shopping with me, half the shopkeepers will take you as my wife." "What are you talking, son? Is your wine has gone to your head?" Saying this, she got up and went to the kitchen. I thought that perhaps I was pushing her a bit too much. I sat and completed my breakfast. Meanwhile, Mom returned to collect the crockery. "I am sorry, Mom." "Okay, get up and take a hot shower." "Just one more thing." "What?" she looked at me in surprise. "I think you should tell Dad about the robbers and how Sajiva saved us from them." "But why?" she asked. "Two things, first, it will soften his attitude towards my friend, and second, he might use his contact to get your necklace back." "It was a shameful incident considering all the action of the robbers, how could I talk about such things to your father?" she said. "Won't he ask about your necklace sometime in the future?" "Please don't mention such a thing to him. You know how angry he gets sometimes." "On one condition, I will keep it a secret," I told her. "What condition?" "Give me a kiss." "Are you gone mad?" she was looking angry. "I am not asking you to sleep with me, all I am asking..." before I could complete myself, she slapped me hard on my face. I rubbed my cheeks and said, "No problem, Mom, I will take my revenge by telling everything to Dad." My threat worked as it made her look worried. "What the hell you have in your mind, Rajul, I don't understand." "I think I am still intoxicated," I admitted. "That is why I don't like your company with that devil Sajiva." "It has nothing to do with him; I want to kiss you once, that's all." "Okay," she said and quickly kissed me on my cheek. "Not fair, you let me kiss on your lips." "No such thing is possible." "I can do it forcefully, but I want you to cooperate." She closed her eyes and lifted her face in a way that meant 'go ahead'. I took her face in my hands and put my lips over hers. I licked her with my tongue. It was a heart-warming experience. As I tried to enter my tongue in her mouth, she realized what we were doing, and Mom quickly broke the kiss and pulled her back. "Shame on you, son, I am your mother," she started sobbing. "You tricked your own Mom... You scoundrel... Don't talk to me hereafter... I'm not going to talk to you... you silly bad boy... I thought you are a good innocent boy. But you know what...You are not...You are such a crook!" "Forgive me, Mom... I'm really sorry, Ma... I won't do such a thing again... Please... Will you forgive me?" "This never happened. OK?" she said. I left her to her own. During the day, she avoided talking to me. As a matter of fact, the situation remained tense till the return of my Father. After his coming back, he realized that Mom and I were not on talking terms. On the dinner table, he asked Mom, "Is everything alright here?" "Ask your son, he is misbehaving," Mom said from the kitchen. "I... what... no," I stammered. "Tell me what he has done," Dad was angry. "Two days ago, he forcefully..." Mom stopped from completing the sentence. I looked towards her in fear. What was she up to? To my relief, she completed by saying, "Took me to a Mandir." Dad laughed and said, "What is wrong in that, you love to do puja." "Yes, Dad, ask her what happened there." Dad looked towards Mother. Now she was looking confused. "Nothing, by the time we returned, it was dark." "Where you took her?" he asked me. "To Nathan Baba." "Jai Bajrang Bali, he is really a divine person." For the time being, the topic was closed, but the next day when nobody was at home, I cornered Mom. She was cleaning her room when I went in. What a side view of her hot body through the sari opening... I could see the side of her pot belly. Man...! Her belly was like thrusting against the cotton sari and waiting to explode. I bolted the door and snatched the pallu of her sari. "What...Oh no... I am your mother," she cried. "I was behaving like a son to you... but you don't deserve that." I forcefully dropped part of her sari and squeezed her boobs. I put my mouth over her cleavage and kissed hard.I was amazed at how big and beautiful her breasts were and started sucking on her nipples from outside. "Please leave me; I won't complain anything to your father, please a son is not supposed to suck his mom's breasts." "Why did you let me suck them when I was young?" "Then you were a baby, now you are an adult." While busy in talk, I kept opening the buttons of her blouse from the back. To my surprise, she was closing her eyes as if she was going to faint. I pulled her arms up and took off the blouse. In madness, I tore her bra and bared her beautiful boobs. It was a sight to behold. I tried to suck her tits, and she tried to turn away. Just when I was about to use more force, I heard my dad calling the name of my mom, "Chitra." He usually came late, but it was also his habit to pay a visit any time of the day. "Leave me, oh please leave me," she whispered. I dragged myself out of the room, and mom went quickly to put another bra and blouse on. As dad entered his room, I got closer to hear him. "Chitra, why are you changing your dress at this time of the day?" "By mistake, I wore the old bra that was too tight on me," she said. "Take care of your weight, you are becoming plump." I was happy to hear that mom made no complaint against me. She wanted to hide my naughtiness from dad. Next day was a day to remember for a long time. Instead of going to my college, I kept lying in my bed. Dad came in my room and asked why I was not going. I told him that due to the death of a professor, the college announced a holiday. "Ok, see you later." As soon as dad went out of the house, I went to find mom. She was in the kitchen preparing breakfast for me. Ma: "What are you looking at me for?" Me: "Ma, your beauty, there is a very sexy woman inside you, but you didn't realize it." Ma: "Don't you feel any shame in saying such dirty words to your mom. This is all because of the company you keep," she was continuously staring at me while talking. "I love you, that's all I want to say." "You devil, let me prepare breakfast for you," she said without getting angry. "I will take it later, please come to your room." "Can't you wait, let me shut the gas." I shut the gas and picked her in my arms. I took her to her bedroom, put her slowly to let her stand near her bed. She remained silent even when I started taking off her blouse. To my surprise, she raised her hands to drop it on the floor. Before I could do anything further, she unhooked her bra and dropped it too. While she took her hands behind to unhook her, her boobs stretched up. My cock was on full mast now. I grabbed her close and started kissing her like a madman (dog). I caressed her smooth body. From the coolness, I realized that she had taken her shower only minutes ago. "Has dad fucked you last night?" "Yes." "And left you unsatisfied?" "You know too much about me." I felt pity for my mother. All these years, she was starving for love, and nobody cared about her. "Can I ask you another question?" "Stop asking questions and do what you want to do." I asked her to get out of her sari and petticoat. I myself dropped my dress. Despite her age, she was looking like a sex goddess. "You are a sex goddess, mom, and I am nothing but your pujari." "Let's start the puja then," she opened her arms for me. Oh my Lord, squeezing her nude body into mine was a mind-blowing experience. "I knew somewhere in my heart that you would let me love you willingly." "The day you kissed me, I started feeling drawn to you." "Why then, ma, did you make me wait so much?" Instead of replying, she put her lips over mine and started kissing me. Like a pro, she took my tongue in her mouth and sucked it. My hands were squeezing her boobs wildly. Soon, I was sucking one of her tits. She cupped and took my left hand to her right breast as I continued to suck on the left nipple. I shifted to her right breast, and she pushed my head downward. I moved to her deep navel for kissing and sucking. The fact that what we were doing was wrong only turned us on even more. I was hoping this was not a dream and wished it could go on forever. I was not far away from her cunt. To my surprise, it was not as white as her body. Still, I loved the sight of her pouting vagina, which had a small black bush on it. "The way your cunt is opening, ma, I think she wants to say something." "Yes, she wants to say, 'Please lick me.'" I moved down my face between her legs, fell absolutely in love with the smell of my mother's pussy. The lips were wet. Her strong urine smell made me still hotter. I caressed her cunt, arse hole, and buttocks for a while and bent to suck her cunt. Her juice tasted salty sweet, and I opened her cunt lips with fingers and thrust my sharp tongue into the hole, hunting for her clitty. I took her miniature clitoris between my lips and teased it with my tongue. "Ah, boy, you are driving me mad. Yes, go on, suck my vulva, baby... oooooohhhh... that's it, lick my cunt lips and thrust your tongue deep, darling, lick my cunt, honey, ah yes, that's the way, go on, still harder, there, now, there, oh, there, I am coming, you fucker, there, my juice is coming, ooo hhh, drink it, baby, drink your my cunt juice, ahhhhh." Sweat beaded heavy on her anguished brow as she strained to hold in her scream, but she didn't scream. She rotated her hips and, pressing my face on to the bed beneath her cunt, collapsed. Her cunt was palpitating, and I could feel her arse hole also vibrating. Her cunt was my toy, and I kept playing. I licked her cunt up to the last drop and pulled out my head. She was lying there spread eagle on the bed, her eyes closed, mouth open, and her breath coming in gasps. "Ma, you tasted very salty." "That's bad etiquette to tell the taste of cunt to someone." "You smelled terrific, but looked ruptured and dark down there, mom." "What do you mean by that?" "It means my father is not the only man who fucked you." "Again, a very harsh thing to say to a lady." I was thinking that I had conquered her, but I was not experienced enough to know how the mood of a woman changes. She wanted relief, and I gave it to her with my tongue. "You are making me mad, ma, should I restart my puja?" "NO, this is the greatest of sins," she said, "I don't want you to burn in hell." She stood up and started putting her clothes back on. What the hell is that? I thought. My cock was still erect and asking for its relief. "Look, only a moment ago, you let me do everything to you, what happened now?" "It was a mistake, you please go now." She kept dressing; I tried to stop her, but failed. "If I did something wrong, I say sorry." "What sorry, haan? A sin is a sin, even showing your cock to your mom is a sin, and you want to put it in me, you shameless creature." "I love you more than anything in the world." "Then let me finish dressing and go, my body is meant only for your father, my husband." Feeling distressed, I have no other option but to dress myself and leave her room. My next destination was my bathroom. Later in the night, dad came and took us to a restaurant for dinner. We ordered Chicken Karahi and Kolhapuri vegetable. Like a model family, we were dining, but inside, I was not normal. Dad asked me about my studies, and I told him that I was getting good grades in most of my exams. He saw mom pulling a face and said to her, "Chitra, our son will surely pass with good marks." "I don't think so," she said, "he spent most of his time with friends." Dad looked towards me in surprise. "Only occasionally, dad," I said. "I think we should marry him soon," mom suggested. "For God's sake, Chitra, he is only 20," dad laughed and turned to me, "Do you have a girl in your eyes?" "There is one, the problem is I love her, but she doesn't love me," I said. "Do you need my help in this regard?" dad asked, smiling. I looked at mom and saw anger on her face. In her orange sari and light makeup, she was looking gorgeous. I let my foot touch her foot under the table. She slowly drew it away. "You can help by convincing Ma," I said and saw my parents getting uneasy. Before they could understand me, I said, "I mean Ma to meet her once and approve her." "This surely is no problem," dad said. "You have no idea how wrong can be his choice," mom said to dad. "I think you two are hiding something from me," dad was serious. "I think at the right time, you will know everything," I said. "Okay, alright." Intrusion by a waiter helped him change the topic. After the dinner, dad took us to a movie. Inside the cinema, we got three seats with gents sitting on either side. Dad asked mom to sit between us. During the movie, when I saw my dad engrossed in the movie, I pinched mom at her chest from my side. "Oyee, ma," she moaned. "What's the problem, Chitra?" dad asked. "Oh, nothing, perhaps a mosquito," she said. I was happy to see that she was not complaining. I kept caressing her here and there throughout the movie, but she kept ignoring me. Harassing her in the presence of dad was really a very interesting experience. After the movie, we reached home, and dad asked mom to prepare strong tea for all. Dad went to his room, and I to mine, while mom went into the kitchen. After delivering tea to dad, mom came into my room. As she tried to hand me the tea, I put it aside and said, "Tea was wished by dad, I want milk." "You should have told me this then." "No problem, let me suck some from you." I grabbed mom in my arms and kissed her full on her lips. She trembled, half in fear and half in excitement. "I told you no, mother suckle her grown-up son." "Then let me do what grown-ups do." "You are making life difficult for me." "Forget dad, ma, sleep with me." I took her hand in mine and put it over my erect cock. I don't know why she gripped it and then let it go. Taking it as a clue, I dropped my pant to my ankles and pushed mom downward."Where are you, Chitra?" we heard Dad from the other room. "Rajul, your... dad is calling... please let me go," she tried to stand up, but I pushed her down again. "Look at my cock, Ma. Look how hungry I am for you." She looked at my cock and then kept looking at it for a long time. She forgot that her husband was calling her. We heard him again. "Where are you, Chitra?" This time, louder. "Ab ba ba... how big you are. Bap re..." "Think, Ma. Do you want the king-size of mine or the smaller version of my dad's?" "Everything looks so weird; I don't know what to say?" I realized that she was interested but feeling shy because of my father. I knew how to strike the hot iron. "Why don't you try this for once? I will not ask you for it again." I took my cock towards her mouth, but she turned her face the other way. "Please suck it a little, suck it once." I grabbed her head and turned it towards my cock and brushed it on her lips. "Chi... I can't take it in my mouth. It is dirty and... and... fat... and..." "And..." "And your dad is still awake." "Okay, lick me a little and go." To my surprise, she took her tongue out and started licking the head of my cock slowly. She licked my shaft, from the base to the head. She circled her tongue around my prick head, but refused to take it inside her mouth. "Ooh, fuck, Mom. That feels so fucking good. Please suck my cock... please, Mom, suck it!" "Enough, Rajul. Your dad might come here; you might spoil my marriage. I am going," she stood up to leave. "Spend time with him, but when he goes to sleep, come back to me." "Okay," she said and went out, but just outside the door, she told me, "I know what your father has in his mind. He won't let me go anywhere from him tonight." Fate was kind to me. The next day, Father came in the afternoon and told Mom that he was going to the provincial capital to meet a politician, and he would return after two days. Mom told Dad that it was the day of 'Karvachauth' (a ritual for the faithful wives) and she wanted him to be with her. After all, this is the most important day for a husband and wife. Father was so much worried to meet the politician that he told Mom bluntly that he had no time for foolish religious rites. After a small argument, he went out. Mom seemed to be angry, and why would she not be? I let Mom be for a while. I left home and spent some time with Sajiva. I told him about my advancements in regard to Mom. He congratulated me, but he was surprised at the resistance my Mom was showing about the real sex. I returned in the evening and saw Mom doing puja of Karvachauth. As soon as she went up to the roof to see the moon, I went after her. Mom was facing the moon, and I was at her back. I could see her back assets that looked like a roasted chicken. There was nobody apart from another woman on a nearby house roof. As soon as she started praying, I took myself in front of her. "Ma, on this holy day, Dad should have been at home with you. You are doing this puja for him. And he didn't care about you at all." By seeing me suddenly, she got nervous but managed to speak. "He is the man of the house. I can't do much about his behavior. I am his wife, so I have to obey him." "And you can't see a man standing in front of you, and you can't do much about it? You know I love you." "Why don't you understand, you are my son, my own blood. You are talking rubbish." The neighbor aunty was looking at us from the other roof, but she couldn't listen to our conversation. "Mom, I am ready to take all the duties of a man at least when Dad is not at home." She started crying a little, but at the same time, she started to do the puja meant for my Dad. I couldn't believe she was doing my puja. She didn't look at me, but I was happy that she was in confusion. The Aunty who was looking at us from a close distance must have been shocked. I ignored all that. After a while, I took her downstairs in the open space while she started doing puja of 'tulsi'. I went behind her and hugged her and pressed my hand on her hips. Her eyes got widened again, but she let me play with her hips. I wondered that I was molesting my mother's body in front of her own eyes, and she was not saying a bit about it. That was a good sign. Now I had no fear of my Dad. When she completed her puja, she said, "No mother can think the way I am thinking. Early in the evening, you said that you are a man. But a man doesn't mean in the physical sense only. Still, your dad handles the house. He takes care of all the things in the house. He cares for our health. He never gives a chance to complain." "Are you sure, Ma? Is this all you think about the house?" She got nervous, and I know why. "You said he is a man, then why is he not here on this auspicious day? Why did he keep himself busy in other matters when you are dying to be with him? Is he a good husband? Tell me, Mom." She started crying. I asked her something which no son could ask his mother. "Do you feel happy in the bed with him?" And she burst into weeping. She was weeping with tears, so I wiped her tears. She put her head on my shoulder. I let her cry. "I don't know how to tell, he does all the stuff a husband usually does, but there is no affection, no love, and no thrill in the night. Just plain..." she sobbed. "You are right, Ma. Love brings new heights to the intimation of two persons. What to do with these ornaments when he can't give you sufficient time?" She looked at me with affection. I held her close, brought my lips to hers, and made contact. She was now open. I kissed her lips and drew back from her. I saw her cheeks getting red. I was happy. But I don't want to hurry the things and spoil the plan. I want her to accept me willingly. I held her face in my palms and said, "I love you, Mom." "I love... you too, and I have made a decision." "Tell me." We hugged each other tightly. I felt she was happy in my arms. "I want to make our relation divine... legal." "How?" "Let's go to a Mandir and perform the ritual of marriage." "Oh, my sweet Ma, I can't believe my ears." "When I started my Karvachauth prayers for you, it meant only one thing: that now I am taking you as my husband." I grabbed Mom tightly and showered kisses all over her face. "I want to do you now, Ma." "When I am offering myself to you forever, then why are you getting impatient, Rajul?" "Ma... for an eyewitness, can I call Sajiva?" "Okay, I think we need him to protect us from robbers also." That night, we were alone in the house, but we spent the night in our rooms just like two young people waiting for their marriage. The next morning, I took Mom to a shopping mall, from where she bought a pink-colored sari. Next, I dropped her at a makeup parlor, where she told the staff that she wants to attend the marriage of her niece, so they should prepare her well. I collected Sajiva and changed my dress too. After picking up Mom, we went to the same temple from where our love story started. She was trying to hide her beautiful face under the pallu of her sari. "Please make sure it will be our secret." "Bet on me, Aunty. I won't tell anyone." After making it into the temple, Sajiva brought the same pundit who last time introduced himself as Nathan Baba. By looking at him, Mom smiled, and he told her that the drama that was staged last time was on the wish of her son, that's me. "I am convinced today that true love can melt iron." "Please start the Mangal Ashtika [marriage ceremony]." The pundit asked us to join our hands and started chanting mantras. Next, we put flower garlands around each other's necks and took seven rounds of the fire. I finally put sindoor on her forehead, a mangalsutra around her neck, and made her my wife. The Pundit prayed for our love and long life. Sajiva dropped us at our home. I thanked Sajiva for his cooperation and bid farewell to him. Just before going, he said, "All the best, have a good time with your mother." We knew well that we were alone for the night. To my surprise, Mom decorated her room by putting a red satin sheet over the bed with a lot of rose petals spread over it. She asked me to wait and came back with a glass of hot milk. I took it politely and drank the milk. "Mother, are you okay?" I asked. "I am your wife now, please remember that," she replied. "Should I not call you mother anymore?" I asked. "You can, if you want to, but remember you married me, and I am now ready to become your woman if you wish to do so!" I hugged my mother. We had a passionate kiss as we moved on to our bed. The red spaghetti-back blouse with its plunging neckline, that showed off the swell of her milk-white breasts, was, of course, a dick-raiser. At each of her wrists was a jangle of bangles, and rings on her henna-covered hands. Suddenly, there was a tightening at my crotch as my dick started to assert itself! "Oh, my bride... would you please reveal yourself in your pristine nudity?" "I need your touch to shed these layers of modesty..." I picked up the anchal of her sari and went around her in a counter-clockwise fashion until all layers were unwrapped and discarded on the floor -- and Mom stood in her fancy lace petticoat and blouse. The blouse was next to go-- She slowly undid the blouse and was in a beautiful sexy lace bra, her nipples and lovely boobs so visible, and her tummy protruding, but all the time sexy. "Let me loosen your hair..." I said, and before she knew, her coiffure for the evening had dissolved into a glorious mane of cascading silkiness that stretched all the way to her buttocks. She turned to show me the back. I worked on for a while before getting her bra undone. Mom indeed had a magnificent pair. Her boobs looked so big and lovely, just like ripe melons!The areolas were quite prominent and pink in color. But what caught my attention the most was her nipples! Dark brown in color, they seemed at least an inch and a half long, standing so proudly erect on those two gigantic mountains! I ran my fingers over it, and with the index finger flicked the nipples. I looked up at her. She was smiling broadly. I tried to cup her breasts but failed. My hands were not large enough. "May I suck?" "Of course, honey." I put my mouth to her right boob and started licking and kissing it. At the same time, I was caressing her left nipple. She turned and showed the other one. I sucked that too. "Am I doing it well?" "You are fantastic." And then my hands dropped down to her waist and released the cords of her petticoat, which dropped away. She was wearing a panty, so her most precious asset was covered. Her legs, however, were bare now. "I couldn't help staring at your legs. They are so beautiful!" I blurted. "Do you really like them that much?" mom asked blushingly. "Oh yes! I mean I have never seen such beautiful legs before!" I told her. "Thank god someone thinks like them!" she said. "Why do you say so?" "Well, your father thinks they are too bulky, especially my thighs." "He must be mad to think so. I mean I don't think that they are too bulky, and I like your thighs the most. They look so soft and fleshy. They remind me of silky pillows. I would love to caress them!" Wow! Did I say all this! Suddenly she took my hand and placed it high on her thigh! "This is your gift. Hope you will like it!" she said. I was surprised by her sudden action but recovered quickly and started to caress her thighs. "Chitra, this is the best gift that anyone has ever given me!" I said. I wasted little time in placing both of my hands high on her thighs and started to caress them in a circular fashion. A soft moan escaped from her. I took it as a sign of pleasure and continued to caress those fleshy, spongy thighs. It felt so great! Her skin was so smooth! I was slowly moving upwards and was now caressing her inner thighs. I could feel the heat that was flowing from the door to heaven that was between those thighs! I nearly came thinking about her hot and wet cunt! Mom was moaning quite frequently and was breathing quite heavily. She had spread her legs so as to allow me unrestricted access to her thighs. My hands were now roaming freely around her silky legs. In a swift gesture, I moved her panty down, and she happily let it fall at her feet. I let out a gasp of surprise when the tangled triangle of her pubic bush came into view. Mound that bulged more than one would anticipate, just that gentle swelling at the top of the cleft to indicate the clit hiding under its hood, and the leaves guarding the cleft suggested, but not seen. I looked up and for the first time found my wife coy. She was looking away, but darting brief glances at me, and she was blushing all over. "Does my looking at you this way make you feel uncomfortable?" "You like it, and that makes me feel good." She bent her knees and spread out her thighs ever so slightly. She turned her head away, but her eyes were on me. She was blushing again. We made eye contact. She smiled, not a coy smile, not a mischievous smile, but one brimming with affection. It was at that moment that I felt one with her. Her pussy was just as I had hoped. It was surrounded by a uniform layer of pubic hairs. They were neatly trimmed. Her cunt was dripping wet due to the juices. It looked so delicious! I had a sudden urge to plunge my mouth into this SWEET dish! But I took it easy and continued to caress her. I was now caressing her groin. I could feel the sticky wet juice on my fingers! Mom was moaning very loudly. Her eyes were half closed, hands clutching to the couch, and legs spread wide apart, inviting me to do anything I wished! I slowly moved both my hands towards her pussy. I stopped abruptly when they were around her lovely bush. I looked in her half-closed eyes for permission. She understood and smiled, indicating the green signal. I smiled to myself and gingerly touched her bare cunt with my right hand. "Aahhhh....!" she gasped at the touch. Encouraged by her response, I then slowly caressed her pussy. The softness of my caress was driving mom mad. Her cunt was fully engorged now. My right hand was full of her sweet juice. I brought it to my lips and tasted it. I dived in between her legs. My face was now inches away from her pussy. The hot air flowing from my nostrils and the heat emanating from her snatch was too much for me. I put my lips firmly on her cunt. "Uunnghhh..., yeah baby! That's it. Eat my pussy. Taste my honey. Drink it all." This was the first time I had heard her talk dirty. I just loved it! I decided that I would make her cum just by eating her cunt. I started to think about things that I had read and watched. First of all, I started to kiss her mound. This itself was driving her wild. She was moaning uncontrollably. I feared that the neighbors might hear her, hence I put my left hand on her mouth. She put my hand inside her mouth and started to lick my fingers! I was surprised at first, but then started to enjoy it too! With her other hand, she pushed my face into her mound and bucked her hips, pushing herself on my mouth. "Mmmm...! Yeah! That's it, baby. Kiss my pussy lips like you would kiss a girl's lips! Use more tongue! Lick me, baby! Make me cum! The honey pot is all yours! Aahhhh....!" It was all that I needed. I started to French kiss her pussy lips. I was darting my tongue in and out of her cunt. I was licking her like a sweet dish! And it was driving her wild! "Ummm... Yeah! That's it, baby! Don't stop now. You are doing just fine." I looked up at her. With one hand, she was sucking my fingers. She was sucking so furiously that I knew what she really wanted to suck was... my Cock! Her moaning and grunting was getting louder. Her other hand was busy caressing her nipples! Mom was caressing and pinching them with her fingers. She was so horny that she even tried to suck her own nipples! All this was not helping my prick, which was threatening to burst by itself. My dick was standing upright now, drawn to its full length of 8 inches. Now I am a modest fellow, but one thing that I am really proud of is my cock! It is not as long as some of the cocks you see in the porn films, but it is quite thick, which makes it very desirable for women! Right now, it was making quite an impression on mom, who was surprised that there was no action going on her pussy. Realizing the reason, she was now mesmerizingly looking at my boner. I knew what she wanted. So I stood near her with my erect cock inches away from her desiring mouth. She looked into my eyes as if to seek permission. I just smiled, and the next moment, half of my dick was inside her mouth! Wow! What a feeling! It was much better than I had ever expected! Mother was sucking my dick with the fervor of a little child who has been told that this is the last ice candy it will get! After a few moments, she started using her tongue. She was teasing my cock head with her tongue! It was driving me wild, and I knew that I was about to cum. I did not want to cum just yet, so I shut my eyes and started thinking about non-erotic things. But that didn't help me much as mom was milking my cock vigorously. I could sense that my entire cock was now inside her mouth! And then I felt my balls being caressed! I knew that this was the limit! I could not contain myself from screaming. "Uunnghhh..., oh Ma! I am Cummingggggg....! Aaahhh.... My vaishya...............my rakhellll..........ahhh..........suck me" With that, I came, and it seemed as if I was not going to stop! After what seemed like an eternity, I finally opened my eyes. I was feeling so weak that I could barely stand! For a moment or two, it seemed like I was in heaven. Then I saw mom. There she was, sitting on the bed, smiling naughtily, looking happy and content, as if her long-time wish had been fulfilled! Then it struck me. Wow! It was true! I had actually blown my load into her mouth! Did she swallow it? Perhaps. Was that the reason for her satisfied look? Was it a first time for her too to suck a man's cock and then swallow his load! "Chitra!" I called her in a soft voice. I was now clutching her shoulders with my hands because of the weakness in my legs. "Yes, Darling!" she responded. Did she just call me Darling? Well, well, well! "Tell me, my bride. Was this your first time?" "I don't get you. What are you talking about?" she asked sheepishly. "You know very well what I am talking about. Was this the first time that you sucked a man's cock?" I asked her blatantly. She didn't say anything, but I could see her face reddening with blush. "So it is true, isn't it?" I asked her. She nodded quietly. I could even detect a smile. "May I know the reason?" I asked politely. Her face was getting redder. But all the same, she was enjoying all this very much. "Well, you know. Your father is a very orthodox person. So he doesn't like to do these things. And anyway, his cock is not as beautiful as yours, Rajul!" Holy shit! She thought my cock was Beautiful! And yes, I had to pity Dad for not using the talents of his wife! "So did you enjoy sucking my cock and then swallowing my cum?" Again, she nodded quietly. "You did! Well, well, well! I thought of you as a lady. But you are nothing but a lust-craven, sex-loving whore! Yes, that's what you are, Mom. A whore!" I thought that she would be hurt by this or at least embarrassed. But I was wrong. She looked up to me and smiled naughtily! "Oh my god!"You like me calling you a whore!" I said in a very amazed manner. She kept on giving me that naughty smile of hers. Then finally, she spoke something in a low voice that I couldn't hear. So I asked her to repeat. "Fuck me!" Did she just say that? I had waited so long to hear it. But somehow, I wanted to do something before fucking her. Also, my prick was nowhere near its full length, and I still felt a little weak in the legs. So I sat beside her and started to think about my next move when suddenly, my eyes fell on her beautiful breasts! Surely, I had to take good care of them before I started pounding her pussy! The next moment, I was cupping her melons with my hands while my lips were busy playing with her lovely nipples! "Take it easy, son! You are hurting me! I will show you how to do it," Mom cried. But I was in no mood to listen to her. I cupped her left boob with my right hand and started caressing it. It felt so great! The soft touch of her skin, the heaviness of her tit, the sudden stiffness of her nipple! It was just as I had seen in the XXX movies. I started to explore her boobs. My left hand got busy with her right boob. At first, I was gently caressing them. Then I started to fondle and massage them. I observed that the softer the massaging, the better the arousal. Hence, I deliberately massaged them in a slow and circular manner. This was driving Mom crazy. Her moans and grunts became louder. Her nipples had become stiff and erect. They were looking like 2 antennas on her lovely melons. I then started to caress her areolas without touching her nipples. This made her nipples rock hard! Finally, Mom begged me to touch her nipples, and I obliged. I took both her nipples in my fingers and started to gently caress and pinch them. This made her moans even louder. Therefore, I had to stop her with my lips pressed against hers! Both of my hands were busy in fondling her tits, so it was my bride who took over the kissing part. She held my head with both her hands and pressed her lips on mine. Within no time, her tongue had worked its way inside my mouth and was busy playing with mine. My fondling of her tits was going on as before, which was making her wilder. I could sense muffled moans inside my mouth. My tongue was now feverishly roaming inside her mouth. I looked into her eyes and could see the look of satisfaction and enjoyment in those eyes. Our kissing and my groping of her melons continued for a while, and then I realized that I had become erect again! I knew what I wanted, but just to make sure that Mom was also ready, I placed my hand on her pussy. And guess what? It was sopping wet! I pushed a finger inside her cunt, and a loud moan escaped from her. "And now that we are ready, let us begin the final chapter of our first sexual encounter, and I hope that this is not the last one!" I said loudly. I expected a lot of blushing and the naughty smile from Chitra. But her reaction totally surprised me. She grabbed my rock-hard dick and held it tightly. Finally, she put her legs on either side of me and placed her pussy squarely on my meat. Very slowly, she started to push herself on my cock. Maybe because my cock was bigger than her hubby's, it wasn't smooth sailing as far as her pussy and my cock were concerned. As for me, the feeling was unbelievable! Slowly, damn slowly, half my dick was inside her pussy. With her cunt dripping wet with her juices and her pussy quivering wildly, I felt as if my dick was being inserted in a blast furnace! Finally, with a few forceful blows by me, my dick was completely inside her cunt. "Son, move slowly, otherwise you will discharge soon like your father. Push hard but at a slow speed." Now she started straddling my cock. Her body was bouncing wildly. Both of my hands were on her buttocks, trying to support her. But I had more in mind! If there was one part of her body that I had not explored before, it was her big ass! Now I had ample opportunity to do so. I started to caress her ass cheeks. After a while, though, I was furiously massaging her ass cheeks, with a finger probing her asshole! I started to push a finger in her anus. This was met by her approval as her hips were bucking, and her asshole was getting bigger! At the same time, I was busy licking her lovely, ripe melons that were also dangling freely with her movements. Her swinging body was making it difficult for me, but I didn't give up. I wanted to explore as much of her delicious body as I could! Mom wasn't far behind too! While her body was swaying freely, with one hand, she was holding my head onto her breasts, while with the other, she was exploring my arse and not doing a bad job either! She was also playing with my anus, which was driving me crazy! After a while, her speed increased, and she started screaming. I thought of backing off a bit so as not to hurt her, but Mom just urged, "Harder. Oh, darling, make Momma feel it! Fuck me harder, baby!!" "Hell, yeah! I want to fill your pussy with my load. I want to make you pregnant! Is this helping?" the last question was with reference to the work that I was doing with her cunt. "I was thinking that you are still a boy, aaaaaaaah, you are fit for me; fuck your mother hard and fast. Keep doing it. You are soon going to make me cum!" I sensed that the climax was near. I quickly took a handful of her boobs in my mouth and sucked and licked them. Then I started pushing a finger in her anus. She reciprocated my action. And then it happened! "Aanghhh...! Uummm...! I am Cumminggg...! Cum inside me, my lover boy! Come for your bride, Rajul darling!" "Uungghhh...! Ohh, yeahh...! I am Cumminggg...!" "Ohh, yeahh! Baby! Aahhh...!" And with that, we collapsed on the couch with my cock still inside her pussy. I laid limp on her for a while until Mom then kissed me on my lips this time, all by herself. I finally got Mom's response. "Thank you, son for the first time I got satisfaction. As long as you keep satisfying your mother, I will take care of you in all respect." A few kisses later, Mom wanted to go to the bathroom, so I moved from her. As she got up, she took off the left-over sari around her and walked off in a blouse and petticoat to the bathroom. As my mother walked away from me, I could not believe I just had hot sex with her. Her body now carries my sex juices. After Mom went to the bathroom, I followed her. I saw the light in the bathroom, and the door was open, and as I went close to the room, I could hear Mom's pissing sound, and it was definitely louder than I ever heard. I have heard from someone that a woman's pissing sound reveals whether she has been fucked or not. The better the fuck, the louder the noise! Even hearing my mother's pissing sound became an erotic sound for me. I waited until Mom came out to let me go in. As I came back, I saw Mom already on her bed. I was already building another hard-on. "Oh, my poor baby, your pee-pee is all hard. Just look at it!" She teased. "Yes! Fix it, Mommy, it hurts so badly," I asked, looking into her wanting eyes. I watched as she wriggled close to me, placing my hands back, between her long, tanned thighs, her hands gripping my wet rising cock, twisting it gently as they cupped me, from base to head. My cock was making swishing sounds, wet noises, as she continued, firmly stroking my cock to get it ready. My fingers explored her pussy, pulling at her soft inner lips. I slid my fingers around inside of her, twisting them, pressing against her elastic walls. I was shocked and almost creamed when she told me to finger her asshole, and I slid easily in that direction. I started gentle probes on the puckered entrance, and she told me that I need some lubricant to intrude that forbidden path. I licked my finger till it was nicely lubed and started again. This time, it gradually entered into that warm, velvety channel without much difficulty. "I want to take your virginity." "Alas! Son, I am no more a virgin." "Yes, you still are, from your back hole." "Oh No, it will hurt." "I want to do you." She looked in my eyes and then passed me a KY gel tube from her bedside drawer. She told me to lube my cock and her tiny rectum with it before penetrating her ass. As I put my thumbs into the cleft of her ass cheeks with my hands on her buttocks, Mom, knowing what I was about to start doing, arched her back and lowered her face to the mattress to better present herself to me. "I washed my ass just a while ago, so it's all ready for you," she assured me, reaching her hands back to spread her cheeks to show me how clean and ready she was. She wiggled her ass to me, jutting out her shapely ass teasingly. "Nice ass, Mom. Now get ready for the assault." "Oh, God, yes, today I am your slave." "No, ma, you are my queen." "No, son, I am your whore, your slut." Her asshole was ready for the long-awaited penetration now. I stuck a finger inside her again and was doubtful that my cock could get inside of that rosy little hole. Mom begged for me to stick my cock in, to just put the head in, and it would take me. She pressed back hard against my finger and told me to hurry. I inserted the nozzle of the KY Gel over her anus. When she felt it there, Mom was well aware of what it was and spread her ass for better access. Even though it is going to be my first time in an ass, that was certainly my intention, and, after squirting the lubricant inside her ass and spreading it there and all around the puckered hole, I nicely coated my cock also with it. Then I placed the tip right at the entrance. When she felt my cock rub into the crack of her ass, she began to gasp and move against me. I felt the round, swollen head of my prick pushing at her asshole. Holding her breath, she relaxed her sphincter for my ramming cock against her asshole.My cock-head looked so big to me; I was amazed when it began to slide in. Mom pressed against it, and I let go, watching it slowly vanish, inch by inch. It was so tight; I almost came, but got a grip on my longing just in time. I forced myself to wait, to enjoy the maximum of it. "Ahhh...Ohhh," mom moaned. I stopped, but then started slowly thrusting into her, a little more of my shaft wedging in with every stroke, until my entire cock was embedded in her. Suddenly, she screamed in pain as I sank deep into her nether. Mom clutched and clawed at the sheet with her fingers as she tried to struggle away from the impaling she was taking. "Hey Ram, you are tearing me." "Just hold on, please. This looks so nice." "Pull it out, pull it out," she screamed. "I'm sorry, Mom," I said apologetically, and I prepared to pull it out. "Sorry, hell, boy," she said in a strained voice. "Pump that big boy, and let's get my shit-chute accustomed to the new visitor." She moaned this time as she backed her butt tight against my body. "Pardon the pun, darling," she said softly, "but fuck the shit out of your Mommy. Drive it home. I'm ready." She whimpered over and over again as I leaned over, put my hands under her, grabbed her hips, and pulled up. Now she was completely pinned by me and stuck like a pig. I just stayed like that with my pecker buried all the way inside of her. "Aieee.....aaaaa....hhhhhhh...mmmmmmmma..." She moaned weakly, "What are you doing to me?" "Fucking the shit out of you, Mommy," I said. I can't believe it....I was actually fucking my mother...........and in her ass... "Get it? Fucking the shit out of you?" "Holy shit, Baby," she grunted, "You have filled my ass to capacity with that club-like cock of yours!" "Is my cock in my Momma's ass," I asked. "Yes," Mom groaned. "Say it!" I snarled, thrusting extra hard. Mom grunted and then said, "Yes, your cock is in your mother's ass." She almost screamed the last few words as my first anal orgasm swept over me. "Fuck me," She screamed at me. "Fuck me!" I grabbed her boobs and rubbed them a little. Then I began to slowly ass-fuck my mother in earnest. Next, my fingers found her pussy while I began to pull myself slowly out, driving her wild, before I crammed myself back into her. I loved the feel of her asshole. She was smooth and satiny feeling, and tighter than anything else I had ever put my cock into. It was the best, the best ever fuck. I began fucking her ass faster and faster, wallowing in her cries of submission, her supple ass-flesh thumped against my groin. Every time I plunged into her, her big ass-cheeks would spread themselves apart, giving my tummy cushiony feelings. I literally fucked the shit out of Mom, and that turned me on more. Both were making noises of almost unbearable pleasure when I ground my hips against that cushiony ass, pushing my cock in as far as it would go. She was burbling, her face buried in the pillow, making animal noises. "My God, son," she gasped at me, "You're gonna rip your Mommy right in two ... ooohhhhh ...," she whimpered in the excitement of her ass being fucked by her son. Again and again, I plunged my cock in and out of Mom's tight but well-lubricated ass. Every time it plunged into her, I marveled at how wonderful it felt, the way she opened up for me and the way her ass grasped my shaft, sending pleasurable joy throughout my body. With every stroke, I heard her moan, expressing how wonderful it was for her too. She has described to me the feeling of my cock fucking her ass, telling me about waves of ecstasy sweeping through her, giving me more satisfaction. Holding her hips, I fucked my cock in and out, watching Mom's asshole grip it. Each thrust of my cock made her asshole stretched to the hilt. I dug my fingers into my mother's flesh and began fucking her with wild in-and-out lunges. Mom began to moan and squeal, her eyes shut tight as she dug her fingers into the bed, twisting her uplifted ass about lewdly. "Your cock!... Oooooh, Rajul, your cock is so hard!" she gasped. "Your cock is so hard, and it goes in so deep into Mommy's belly! Oooh, baby, baby! Fuck me! Fuck mother! Ahhh, I've never felt it so good before! Oh, yes, honey! Motherfuck my ass!" Pushing my cock as far up her ass as I could, I reached forward and between her legs, to tickle her clitoris and revel in the feel of her shaven cunt. My hand was full of hot cunt, and I rubbed the lips and flicked her clit as I steadily drove my cock in and out. She began to rock her hips back and forth, slowly milking my cock. I picked up the pace, my hips slamming against hers. "Oh God, Mom, I'm going to cum." "Go ahead, dear, fill me up. Fill your mother up with your juice." I let out a strong guttural sound as I felt my cock spasm deep in her ass. I was cumming! I drove my cock to its full length into Mom's ass and unloaded my hot cum into her convulsing ass. She was reacting too, and kept saying, "Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck!" over and over again while I came. "Mom, you're gonna come too!" I panted. "I can feel it! Your cunt is oozing on my fingers ... you're gonna come, Mom!" "Oh, yeah, I am!" she sobbed, shaking her naked ass lewdly. "I'm gonna come, darling! Ooooohh, baby! Mommy's cunt is burning up! Rub that ... rub that clit for me, lover! Make Mommy cummmm!" "Ohhhh, Mom! Let your ass sip my AMRIT," I yelped. "Come, honey!" Mom sobbed. "You have to come, baby!" "You too, Mom!" "Unnnghhhhhhh, yes!" My body stiffened, and I threw my head back, my eyes tightly closed. I pulled hard on her hips, cramming my cock as far into Mom's bowels as I could. Mom pushed her ass back at me with all her strength, her breath coming in sharp, throaty gasps and her eyes bulging. "Cum in my ass!" she screamed. "My son, cum in my hot fucking ass!" I was struggling to breathe, my fingers pulling at her pussy. My balls were painfully tight. Then, suddenly, I was spewing hot cum deep up into my mother's convulsing asshole, coming up her quivering rectum with gushing force. Mom screamed again, her belly filling with my cock-cream as we both came in spasms that sent tremors up and down our naked bodies. Mom was sobbing with rapture, grinding her naked ass wantonly as I continued to spurt hot jism over and over into her receptive asshole. The squeezing of her bowels made me feel as if it were sucking my cock, drawing the fuck-juice out of my balls. I grunted and yelped against the smooth, sweaty skin of my mother's ass, fucking her deeply throughout her orgasm and mine. After a time, it was over, and I collapsed limply on top of her, all my energy spent. We lay that way for a few minutes, catching our breath, and then I rolled off her. We held each other in our arms for a little while, and then I asked, "Do you feel different now that you're not a virgin to anal-fuck anymore?" "Shit, yeah, I feel fantastic!" she answered. "You're such a hot bitch...," before I can complete, I heard the phone ringing. It was already morning, but we had no idea. I picked up the phone, and to my relief, it was my friend. Sajiva: "How was your night, Rajul?" Me: "I came thrice, and mom behaved like a porn star." Sajiva: "Can I speak to her?" Me: "Shut up, what do you want to say, by the way?" Sajiva: "Can I join the fun?" Ma: "Who was on the other side?" Me: "My friend Sajiva." Ma: "Friend, my foot. Don't you realize that he is after my pussy." Me: "You already had two husbands. I don't think you will mind a third." Ma: "I am telling you that I will not sleep with anyone." Me: "Hey Sajiva," I shifted back to my friend, "I think you can join us." Sajiva: "Really?" Ma: "NO, why are you doing this to me?" I put the phone down. She kept looking at me with anger. Me: "I was joking, Ma. Let's eat something." Ma: "You go and take a shower; I'll have breakfast ready for you." I took a quick shower and returned naked to the kitchen. To my delight, mom was humming a melody as she was cooking in the kitchen. I laughed upon seeing her, as she wore only an apron, her ass clearly visible from behind as she stood there, though she'd obviously worn that as some form of protection against splattering grease. As she leaned over the counter to grab a towel, I could see the delicious crinkle of skin where the tops of her thighs met the bottom of her round ass. I walked over behind her, kissed her on the neck, and allowed my hand to sneak around in front, grasping her breast, toying with her nipple briefly until she finally shooed me away. "Go fix us some coffee, you naughty boy," she giggled. I did so, pouring us each a cup, placing them down on the table, sitting as she moments later walked over, taking a seat across from me. Her tits were bouncing a little. I quite naturally reached out, fondling her breasts as she adjusted her own position with the two of us now facing one another. I took that opportunity to quiz her about her feelings. "Mom, so...how do you feel about everything that's happened now anyway? You have any problems with the fact that you finally let me fuck you?" She laughed. "At the moment...the only real problem I think I'm having is hearing you use that word. I'm not used to hearing you say it for one, and not sure it's an appropriate time for you to be using it either. But I will say this...yes. I enjoyed having you fuck me, and I look forward now to you doing so again. And soon too!" She added. "And to be perfectly honest, I look forward to hearing you say you want to fuck me...and that I want to respond back to you, telling you how good it feels to have you fuck me. Now then...think we've said 'fuck' enough for a while at least? At least until we've finished up with breakfast anyway?"The problem was, I was again hard as a rock, my prick pressing against my underwear as I sat there having listened to my mother talking so openly and so freely now, though we had also laughed a great deal during the course of all that. The doorbell rang, and mom ran towards the bedroom. (-l-)(-l-) I wrapped a sheet around me and opened the door. Sajiva was standing there. Me: "Welcome, dude." Sajiva: "Sorry to disturb you, dude, but I wanted to join." I looked towards the bedroom and saw mom watching us from there. To my delight, she was still nude. Me: "Like a newly wed bride, she is shy." Sajiva: "Hello, aunty, how are you?" Ma: "I am fine, why are you here?" Sajiva: "Don't be shy. I am also like a son to you." Ma: "My son is no more my son, he is my husband now." Sajiva: "You can keep as many husbands as you want." Ma: "Both of you are pigs, motherfuckers, and lower than the lowest." Sajiva shed his clothes, and I dropped my sheet. As we entered the bedroom, Mom sat down on the edge of the bed, and we moved near to her. I saw Mom eyeing the cock of Sajiva. His cock was a little smaller than mine, but it was thicker. Ma: "I am not going to let any of you touch me." Sajiva: "Okay, then we want you to touch us." To my amazement, Mom smiled. Sajiva put a pillow over the other, and Mom slowly put her head over them. Sajiva straight away caught her head and forcibly started kissing her. After a few seconds, he was able to insert his tongue in my mother's mouth. Slowly but surely, Mom was gearing up for the specified job. As he was kissing her, he took his hand to her boobs and started caressing her there. Sajiva moved up and took his cock near to her mouth. He asked her to open her mouth and take his lund inside. She hesitated like a virgin, but slowly started to take it in. She gave him the suck of his life; she kept trying to get all of him in her mouth, but she kept trying and coming up for air. M: "You're huge, I don't think I can go all the way down on you." Sajiva just told her she was doing an awesome job and doesn't stop, just suck what she can and stroke him. So Mom continued sucking him. I have already blown my nuts three times in the night, but again I was feeling hard. I can't believe that my cock was still able to get hard and stay hard. I jumped between her open legs and pushed my cock in her cunt. Me: "This is like a blue film, really." All three of us were panting. Mom took Sajiva's cock out and said, Ma: "This really is a fruit of my religious devotion. Ram-Ram." "Jay Shri Ram," we both said at the same time. Sajiva again caught her by her hair and again inserted his dick in her mouth, and I started slamming into her. I was crushing my hips into her. As my body slammed down on her, her legs would fold up. Wow! Her boobs were squished between her arms and legs, but were still moving wildly about. My mom whined, and there was a pained look on her face. I was getting closer again. She sucked Sajiva for quite a while while I watched the two of them. I guess he was close to coming, because he pulled out of her. (He told me later that he actually came in my mother's mouth, and she just swallowed it!). I started coming in quick bursts. I fell panting down over Mom for a while. Sajiva pushed me away and positioned himself between her legs. He leaned her back onto the bed with his hand on her shoulders and his tongue going into her mouth. I crawled onto the bed and began to watch right next to them. Mom told Sajay that her back was hurting, so she climbed on top of him and started to lower her pussy to his cock. I bent over to get a closer look as Sajiva's cockhead touched Mom's wet pussy-hole. "Here you go...5...4...3...2...1....0...fuck my mother." Mom continued to lower herself onto the cock. I watched her pussy stretch to take the head of the monster cock. As the head disappeared into the pussy that gave me birth, I never knew a pussy could hold so much. The whole cock had vanished into my Mom's waiting pussy. All I could see was the base of the cock. Mom moaned when her hips hit his pubic bone. Me: "How does his cock feel inside you, Ma? Do you love it?" Ma: "What do you think?" She then asked me, "Do you want to know honestly?" Me: "Tell me everything! The whole truth!" Mom looked at me and told me the truth, "OH, I love it, honey, Oh God, he feels so good! Oh, I love his cock, baby, he feels so good, he's filling all of my pussy and touching places that I haven't felt before!" "It hurt a little at first, but he feels so good now, oh fuck, I can't tell you how great this feels." "Being with Sajiva....uh uh uh....makes me feel younger, wanted, and sexier!" She was now gasping for air and breathing heavily. Ma: "Honey, can I fuck Sajiva anytime I want? He is hung like a fuckin' horse." Mom laughed and kissed Sajiva as he continued to fuck her! I just watched as Sajiva told her to get on her hands and knees, so Mom got on all fours, put her hands on the back of the bed rest as she bent over with her knees on the bed. Sajiva then opened her up and stuck his cock deep inside her wet, cum-filled pussy! Ma: "Ohhh, honey! How did you know? That's my favourite position!" Mom giggled. My friend laughed. Soon Mom was screaming in a high-pitched little girl voice now, "Fuck me hard, OH... OH.... OH.... UH... UH... UH ........FUCK YEAH...FUCK YEAH......OH GOD OH GOD, OH Sajiva OH MY SANAY!!!!!" Sajiva was moaning and saying "Yeah! Yeah!" over and over while Mom cried out with each powerful thrust of his cock. The big bed really shook as he and Mom grunted and groaned with each thrust. Then I heard him literally growling and Mom whimpering, as he came inside her for a long time. After getting her breath back, Mom asked, "Did you guys have this planned earlier?" We both nodded and said, "Yeah." "You are sooo sexy, Chitra aunty, you look awesome for your age, you look a lot better than the girls much younger than you!" Sajiva said. Mom said, "Oh, Sajiva, you make me feel so young.....oh, I feel so good. I've never felt like this before." The next thing I knew was that we were drifting off to sleep. When we woke, we heard voices in the kitchen. Mom perhaps was preparing food for us. Sajiva went to take a shower, and I decided to dress myself. As Sajiva came out, Mom too came with something to eat. She prepared a fruit salad for us. She handed the bowls to us and went out. After finishing our share, we went to search for Mom. To our amazement, she was sitting in front of the Shiva statue, praying. After lighting some lamps, she was singing the puja song with closed eyes. She indeed was looking like a typical and innocent housewife. Sajiva winked at me, and we slowly reached either side of Mom. We took our cocks out and put them on her lips. She opened her eyes in shock and rebuked us in anger, Ma: "Shame on you for inserting your tools in my mouth in front of Bhagwan, you should respect him at least... chi... chi." Me: "I am your husband, Ma; I can do anything I like with you." Ma: "What about your friend, he is not my husband." Sajiva said, "Sorry," and put his cock inside his dress. Me: "You made him feel low, Ma; this is not fair." Ma: "I apologize, please forgive me." Sajiva: "It's okay, I am not angry." Ma: "I actually want you to be my third and last husband." Sajiva: "Really, aunty? I will feel honored." Ma: "Now go and come back without clothes after drinking some water." We failed to understand what she had in mind, but decided to obey her. As we came back nude, she asked us to sit beside her and repeat what she was saying. Ma: "Bolo....Hey Bhagwan." We: "Hey Bhagwan..." Ma: "Forgive us for molesting our mom sexually. And allow us to put our cocks in her mouth." It was too much. We felt relieved. We immediately stood up and again touched her mouth with our cocks. As it was not possible for her to take two at a time, what she did was that she took one in her mouth and rubbed the other with her soft hand. After getting our relief, I told Sajiva, "When you get hard, get behind Mom and fuck her in the ass, and I'll fuck her pussy!" "Mom, you want to be fucked by both of us? Want to be fucked in your little ass and pussy, honey?" "Mom, you want both of us, don't you, baby?" She replied, "Oh yeah, I'd love it, honey, is that what you want to see me used by both of you? You guys better be gentle, oh shit, what am I doing?'" Mom continued sucking Sajiva, who was now getting very hard and big. Sajiva pulled his huge cock out of her mouth and got behind her. I slid down a little bit, and Mom was now on her hands and knees bent over me as she had my cock in her pussy. I gave her a big kiss and told her to get ready. Sajiva was now playing with her ass, fingering her and trying to make room for his cock! Mom was loving it and moaning in pleasure for now.....I kissed her and stopped fucking her and didn't move as Sajiva was trying to get in her ass again. Sajiva kept giving us an update on how much he had in her. I could see it in Mom's facial expressions; she looked in pain, but to be honest, I didn't care. I wanted her to be fucked up her ass again by Sajiva and experience her first double penetration. Mom then let out a huge moan "UUUUMMMM oooohhhh uuuuh uh." Sajiva was now moving slowly in her, I was now also moving slowly. Mom's expressions were now getting better, she looked to be enjoying it, breathing a little better, she even moaned and smiled at me. I now told Sajiva, "Fuck her, dude, fuck my wife, fuck my mom wife Sajiva, fuck her hard, slap her ass, she's been a very bad woman!" Mom just looked at me so innocently and said, "Am I a bad woman, honey? Do you love me to be a woman girl?" I kissed Mom very deeply and wildly and told her, "I love it when you're bad!""Now she was getting into it, moving with us and telling Sajiva, "Fuck my ass, give me more Sajiva, I want all of your cock in my ass, I'm your bad woman Sajiva, spank me, baby!" He gladly obliged, spanking her ass and fucking her deep and faster! Sajiva said to Mom, "You're a fucking nasty little slut, aren't you?" He then started grabbing and spanking her ass harder and fucking her deep and fast! Mom was groaning, moaning, and panting the words, "Oh... Uh... uh... ooooohhh... uh... oh... am I... am I... Sajiva, am I a whore? RAAAY!... Am I your bad woman, Sajiva?" I could feel his cock getting harder in her ass as I fucked her cunt! I really loved having my wife fucking another guy; I didn't realize how much until we both started fucking her at the same time! This was absolutely the greatest sex Mom and I have ever had together! I knew this was the beginning of something that would make our marriage stronger! Sajiva was now pretty deep inside my beautiful mom, who was also my wife. Mom was screaming really loud, "Oh fuck, fuck my ass, fuck me, make me yours, Sajiva!" I put my hand over her mouth and told her to be quiet, that neighbors might hear her. Mom just said, "I don't care, let me see them get fucked up the ass by Sajiva's cock and be quiet!" "Oh Sajiva, Oh Michael, you guys feel SO good!" Sajiva and I must have fucked her like this for over a half hour; I don't know what it was, but neither of us came for a long time. Just then, Sajiva said, "I'm cumming, Chitra auntie, do you feel it?" She said back to him, "I feel it, oh oh ooohhhh, cum in my ass, Sajiva, oh fuck, oh fuck, I feel it, Sajiva, it feels warm and wet!" Now I started pumping her faster, then started cumming. I gave Mom a very long, sexy kiss. Mom just collapsed in my arms, and she whispered in my ear, "I love you, I love you so much, Rajul, I will always love you, this was for you, honey!" I held her tight as all three of us just lay together for a few minutes. Sajiva pulled out of Mom, and she just let out a huge moan and a "oooooooooohhhh." She got off of me and just lay between us as Sajiva and I on separate sides of her. Sajiva kept touching her and caressing her all over. It was now evening, and Mom gave Sajiva a deep kiss and then asked him not to leave and to spend the night with us. Sajiva then looked at me and asked me, "Dude, are you cool with this?" I told him, as long as he doesn't touch me, he's cool. We all laughed and crashed and went to bed. Mom was the first to fall asleep; she had her ass against Sajiva's cock and her face facing me. I went to sleep, but later that night, I heard Mom whimpering, moaning, and I felt the bed move; I woke up, opened my eyes a little, not letting them know I was awake, and sure enough, Sajiva was fucking her from behind! Sajiva was whispering to her to be quiet, that she might wake me. He was telling her that he loved fucking her, how pretty she was, how young she looked, and that her pussy felt so good. I just turned around, went to sleep, and let them have some private time together!"	null	null	Authors/UR_Null/DESI MOTHERFUCKERS/Long-live the mother.txt
84,768	T.C. Emerson / Feather Touch	Electric Letters	You polluting piece of shit, you asshole, you wicked, nasty, ogre (I'm only eleven and I don't like to say too many bad words, I guess it's kind of a class and character issue), you bum, you nerd, you smart alec, know-it-all wise guy, you pervert, you skunk, you drain-drinking moron, I had a great dad, and now it's over. He read one of your stories, and he raped me. What do you think of that, Mr. High and Mighty Thinks He's God? My own daddy. All over me. And all because of your story and your - ha, ha - skill. Well, I read, I hang out at the library, and I have a little skill of my own, and I think you're a twisted, kinky slut. I bet you don't even answer this. Go to hell. Harriet Beecher Stowe wrote a novel, you obviously know the title, that emotionalized an issue that required all the reason then existing on the planet. Hundreds of thousands died because of her words on paper, and sores were opened that fester to this very day, yet she is regarded as a literary hero. Do you suppose she ever lay awake at night, carnage in every newspaper, and said to herself, "God, what have I done?" Hitler, as his very children bled out in the ruins of Berlin giving the Western World a fifty-year reprieve from the fatal embrace of socialism, do you suppose he ever said, "Wish I hadn't written that?" Yes, these are rationalizations, probably those Stephen King used when it was discovered his "Rage" was a blueprint for Columbine. It is, Erica, like debt for corporations, they dare it, because they fail to exist without it, and overwhelmingly - look around you - it works. By the same token, a writer like myself takes on a burden of moral responsibility and accountability, why? Because we can't exist without it. We, a tiny handful of us, tell the truth, and the truth is, if you read a few stories on Nifty, alone, if you prefer, hidden away, just you and the monitor, you are going to find, my young friend, the stories - not of a few girls and boys that like alternative behavior, because that's all it is, and not all that "alternative," at that, but, if you have the time, thousands of stories, and then tens of thousands. These stories are very often true, and if even only a single one was, doesn't that at least open a channel for thinking: that if one girl or boy loved what happened at your age, there must be at least a seed of validity to their lives and experiences? Rhetorical. Answer, obvious. And when you come to know that there are, as I said, thousands, and, further, that the responses aren't just positive in any sort of grudging way (better than getting a jock disease in the back seat), but practically definitions of bright-eyed enthusiasm, you will have at least begun assembling the two and two I use for guidance in my work. As I said, these stories are not only favorable, but wildly enthusiastic, and, which is what makes me a fellow traveler, almost universally sensitive. Most writers - practically all - place every possible emphasis on, a, overall responsible behavior, and, b, long-term acceptance by the juvenile or juveniles involved. I am writing what literally thousands of others are writing, and, Erica, just as a point of reference, my work is downloaded at a rate that would have me on top of print best-seller lists as a permanent fixture over the last two and a half years. I would like to write back and forth. As a human, of course I'm grieved by your particular situation. You show an extreme level of both talent and development in your letter. Should you pursue writing seriously, you will pray, daily, that at one time or another, the Muses, who have been around two or three thousand years, will take over for you. Bowing to their experience, and, as you know, they consist of nine Greek females, instead of having the pissant effrontery to tell them what to say. Any skills you bring to the table through reading and incessant practice are only secretarial, in being able to transcribe accurately and, this is the hard part, very, very quickly. If you can't type a hundred words a minute, they're going to stick you with some slow-witted trainee, probably a pet niece or something, you know, nepotism. Again, it would be nice to hear from you, and let me end on a simple note by saying I'm very sorry for what happened. I never expected to hear from you. I don't know what to say, so I'll have to pick my way slowly and leave the 100 wpm thing up to you. (It must be nice.) Dad's just so great, but he's my dad. I looked up what happened. All societies condemn it. It's not legal or morally acceptable anywhere. And what if one kid like me is raped because of what you say? And have you ever been so scared to come out of your room you wet yourself in a jar, putting the frog inside the pillowcase, then dumped it out the window? It's not right for a girl. If you make bald statements such as "it's not right for a girl" then how can it be worthwhile writing, not that you invited me to respond or anything, but at least let's end, if that's how it's to be, on a more open note. You are not a stone in a gravel pit, or a slice of pie in a deli. "Not right for a girl" says it all? I - don't - think - so. Cystic fibrosis isn't right for a girl. Car accidents. Getting hauled into an alley by a biker or wino. But between you and a father who you sketch as a nice adult male? If we're going to write back and forth, try not to put things in the airtight boxes beloved of pat-thinking socialists. Your challenge is to learn the difference between helter-skelter hippy thinking and the autocracy of the brainwashed. Some things are as absolute as cystic fibrosis, but others challenge you, as a human, with yin and yang, as the Chinese have it, and, believe it or not, if it does nothing else, it makes life more interesting. Do write again. I've got to tell you something right away. I found it on - well, okay, I'm smiling just a little - Nifty. It's in their Incest section and it's called "Rebecca." If made me feel - still trying to smile - all embarrassed. Talk about not knowing what I was talking about. You weren't kidding. The people in the story care about each other, first, and if it happens they're attracted to each other, then the stuff happens. I was going to write "exciting stuff" but I don't think I'm quite there, yet. You're beginning to make me see that it is a transient world, and that anything that lasts a few months is likely to make it with one to their deathbed, and that the only option for enduring contentment is not necessarily eighteen-year-old girl marrying twenty-year-old boy (from another whole village) and having four legitimate kids. And you never put down that way; the little girl's doll and imaginary tea-party dreams, Ken and Barbie, though they probably validate alternatives rather than convention. I liked the story. I'm going to find others. You must be very busy to be so mind-boggling prolific, so I won't bother you any more, but do count me half recovered. Seems to me we have a few months to go if we're going to qualify and d'bed sources of mutual reminiscences. On the other hand, you're probably busy with school and a hundred things so I don't want to intrude on your time. I've been drilling on Mavis Beacon, and can do a little rationalizing of my own by calling this typing practice, plus I can do the letter keys now, so it goes a lot faster. I guess that sounds kind of dopey, alluding to typing when it comes to writing to a great writer, and, hey, I just read "Poet of Phu Bai," so a king, too. Weird-o-rama as Audrey says in the movie. I think the Net's the only thing that's not toast in the whole kitchen. I hope we can keep writing, but you must have a zillion fans, and I wasn't very friendly in my first letter, so I'll understand if you can't. Your last letter brings up the subject of why be a writer in the first place, because the one-word answer is, No, I get zero fan mail. From "Beyond Brewster" which you may have read by this time, from "Poet" or from any of my stories posted in the last year or so. It's something of a phenomenon, because my first published story "Jimmy and Frogger" (nom de plume: Feather Touch), posted on a site called ASSTR, much like Nifty, and one of the latter's mirrors, and that story is still selling at five to seven hundred copies a week. It's probably the politics and cultural editorializing, you know, sort of a turn-off, but I don't even get flamed. All this to say that it may not be the smartest thing in the world to try to commercialize any talent - and yours is patent - a writer might have, not a real writer. You will be rewarded in no finite way. "The New York Review" hasn't noted anything beyond competent journeymen in the last year and a half, which is how long I've been glancing at it. Print is out, especially for fiction, and the Net doesn't pay.After your novelty wears off, you won't get a letter a month. But then there are the download reports every week from ASSTR. Your numbers stay high. You have something like seventy files online. If one is being downloaded at such-and-such a rate, they all are, just like every egg in a pot of boiling water will be of equal hardness after a certain amount of boiling. Suddenly you realize that, hey, no mail, but huge readership, and the stories archived pretty much forever as they go from Nifty to other sites and p2p's. Then you think again and say, again, hey, wait a minute, I've never written an author, thousands of books though I've read, and never felt the slightest desire to do so, and when that happens you find yourself pretty pleased that, yes, you got a couple of hundred nice letters, at all. In other words, believe it or not, at this point you are my only known fan, and I hope you keep writing. Erica to Tom How fast do you have to type for them, those ancient ladies of inspiration, to kick in? Sometimes I feel, just for a minute or two, that I'm like on the crest of a wave, body surfing, and going ahead without paddling or kicking. Tom to Erica That's incredible at your age, because that's just the feeling. I'm fifty-seven so the waves are a little bigger, and I can even tap dance on the bogie board if I think anyone's looking, but the essential feeling is the same. You sort of zero down to a perfect state of almost somnolent lethargy, and yet your fingers keep moving and the words keep moving across the screen. Total congratulations, but remember, it's just a novelty act, not for personal gain. Erica to Tom But so much fun! And what a great hobby. Once you've got the 'puter, it costs about a millionth part of what boating or golf would. But what to write about, that's the question. T to E There is nothing, sorry. Perhaps that's the whole point, why "The Review" has nothing much about anyone special; not their fault, the writers, it's just that there's nothing left as far as subject matter goes. Of course, here I'm talking about print. That leaves me trying to ease into risky territory, I might as well come right out and say it, because, yes, there is something you can write about, assuming you haven't been picked as the world's youngest Rhodes Scholar or something like that, but it's a place we talked about in the beginning of our correspondence, and you might not be thrilled out of your mind at the thought of going back there. To be hanged for a sheep instead of a lamb, I'll cut to the chase. You and your dad. That's the story to start with; I just hate mentioning it because you might think I'm trying to lure you into a titillating correspondence. E. to T. Mavis should have a segment on typing with shaking fingers. The jitters. Thank you for springing it on me as gently as you could, but most of all for coming out and saying it. I don't know why I'm so nervous, because I finally looked up "Jimmy and Frogger" and it made me laugh so hard I started hiccupping. If I can't trust you, who can I? I'll bet you know more about the human condition than anyone in the world, and I do trust you, but I don't know where to start. What I wondered is if you could ask me questions; quiz me like your characters do if their partner's are into, what is it, verbal voyeurism? It would really help, and I understand you might ask some pretty explicit questions. T. to E. As we go along, maybe, but there won't be that many. A lot of writers cop out a little, I think, by including event after event, and, pretty much, it's the first few, you know, times that are interesting from the reader's point of view. After all, the physics and chemistry involved is universal. I should interrupt myself here to say that if you write, I will publish with your true name. Don't ask me why, but it's essential to me to use real people - names, dates, places - as a modeler uses an armature for his clay. Not only to use "real" as I go along, but to know that they will be published, "real". Keep in mind, it's not an entirely sane occupation. You are able to do something, assuming you continue as beautifully as you have begun, that only the rarest handful of others can do. Put an ad for brain surgeons in a medical journal, if the position's attractive, you'll get dozens of applications. High end programmers. Physicists. Chemists. Look around you, don't you have every product of genius imaginable, including a computer far beyond the wildest fantasies of anyone on earth a mere thirty years ago? There's someone, and usually half a hoard, to do anything - except - write brilliantly at the cutting edge of where we are and where we should go. While this is universally true, it's twice as accurate to add: in carnal and salacious matters concerning juveniles. The air is thin and cold, but offers a good view and little resistance. I won't say anything corny like come soar with me, but I wouldn't, either, want to underplay both the challenge and significance involved in your deciding to continue on, under your own name and using your dad's name. So, to get to practical things, why don't you tell me about him, and we can stumble along from there? If you're ready to talk about what happened, I'd suggest, if possible, trying to cast it in terms of things he did with you rather than to you. E. to T. I kept trying to push him away. Maybe it was my fault, in a way. It happened on a camping trip. I suggested we zip our sleeping bags together so he could cuddle me while we slept. I woke up in the middle of the night and he had my nightie up over my hips and he was, you know, up between my legs and thrusting against me. It made me feel all hot and strange, and I knew it was wrong because everyone says so. I tried to get him to stop. I was too scared to say anything, and I think maybe he was mostly asleep, anyway, so I tried pushing him with my hands and he kept thrusting and I kept pushing and suddenly he got all stiff and tense and it got all slippery on my hands, at first, then kind of sticky, and I was like totally wet all over my tummy and I thought maybe it was blood or something, but it was pitch dark and I couldn't see. He'd been kind of panting while I was trying to push him away, but his breathing went back to normal after what happened, and he was snoring a little so I knew he was asleep, and I spent the rest of the night trying to wipe up, well, now I know it was his sperm, and I couldn't get back to sleep because I was afraid it might happen again. The next morning he could see something was wrong and he tried to find out what it was, but I was mad and totally confused because by then I'd figured out it must have been some kind of thing to do with sex and that he'd raped me. Then I was scared that he'd got me pregnant because I was so wet all over and I almost didn't see how there could be that much of his seed on my skin and I wouldn't get a baby from it because I know from biology all it takes is one and he did millions with me. How did I trace it to you? I guess you'll want to know that. From his laptop. One of your stories, I don't know which, because only the last few pages of the story were in the file, but it was about a man molesting his daughter and it was all o-loo-la-la like the greatest thing that could ever be, and at the end it said: "Posted by [email protected]," so I wrote. More about my dad. No complaints, to sum it up. My three girlfriends all think I'm like awesomely lucky to have him for my father. He's comptroller for NASCAR and calls himself a bean counter, but he loves it and takes the job very seriously. We talk about his work all the time and he explains how it's important to have a little slack, I mean give people a little slack when it comes to the money part of the corporation, and not be mister stringent and micromanager all the time. I guess he looks quite a bit like Rick Schroeder, you know, when he played on "NYPD Blue", or maybe a little like McVeigh, body wise, but with a smarter looking face. He's thirty-two years old, which is kind of a joke in the family because every once in a while he gets carded, once even for a movie, though he says the cashier was just trying to flirt with him. My mom's the same age. Twice people have called us sisters, which makes her happy for about five years. Allen and Paul are my two brothers. Allen's thirteen, Paul and I both twelve for a month this year, but he's older. We have four cats and four dogs, but small ones, dachshunds. I guess you can figure out we live near Daytona Beach because of Dad's work. We live in a poor neighborhood in a California bungalow so that we'll have plenty of money left over for books and touring battlefields and museums and living in a village in Mexico part of the year so we can practice our Spanish and learn to fully appreciate - I guess this sounds corny, Dad says it is, but stick with it - to appreciate the extra things we do have. Our car is a ten-year-old Silver Spur we call Maiden. He, Ryan, my dad isn't trying to be weird or anything, but his feeling is when we get older we'll want to rebel against something, so we can rebel against being different, you know, living in a bungalow and driving a Rolls, and thus end up salted and pickled in the mainstream, accountants, all. I guess that's some of it. I hope I hear back from you soon. Mavis would approve, but I sit here kind of wondering what Dad would say if he knew. T. to E. We're going as fast I ever go, Erica; did you know that? Two days and almost 3,500 words. Good girl, good person. I used to check my mail once a day, now I do every few hours and there you are, welcome as gin to a planter. I live in a small Caribbean backwater, pretty literally, called Belize.A lot of stuff about it in my various stories, so I won't go on and on, plus, it's pretty much a cliché: living in paradise, the exotic overtones of an African culture, the weather, the foliage and birds, but, as a Floridian, you're sort of halfway there, yourself, plus you have K-Mart and Denny's. Samantha, my girlfriend, has taken up many pages over the last two years. I can tell you more about her as we go along, but, to sum it up, she's a "mysterious ways" payment, and in full, thank you, for the thousands of hours I put in on the Internet. Much of my writing is based on numerous, but certainly not an excessive number, of actual relationships and experiences. Although I had no background in anything, I waylaid a camp counselor when I was nine, and so, myself, had a partial introduction to what can happen at a relatively early age. Your lifestyle sounds exemplary, and, in the strange world a-borning, almost a fantasy. Your dad must have an IQ of about a million to avoid status seeking in the subdivisions, and the Rolls Royce is a perfect touch. Free transportation, because I have a feeling he maintains it well, so it will probably be worth enough in another ten years to pay for using it. Of course, the books are the most exciting thing to me. I picture a bungalow half overflowing with all kinds of reading material, nominal time wasted by any of you on excessive housekeeping, Lexan windows in case the neighborhood gets poorer, and your conversation laden with Spanish; you know, words like momentito, or just momento, which is so much handier than "wait a minute" when someone's knocking at the door, verdad? (Please do not exercise me by writing much in the language. If I have a brain, it's ninety percent creative and highly deficient when it comes to learning, thus I managed to live for almost five years in Torreón, Coahuila, two hundred miles south of Chihuahua, without picking up anything that would get me beyond the kitchen of a Spanish household.) We had dachshunds growing up, too. My guess is they were bred by Attila so no one would approach his throne while he was pillaging. I have four cats now, the king of whom is Pantherito, a giant black animal who speaks in long paragraphs. I live on the second floor of a medium-size house for the area, with a local family living downstairs. It's perfect for a writer because it keeps me in contact with the real world. When Tonton wakes me up at seven in the morning to beg a cigarette for his crack-head mother, after I've worked until five, it's a great leveler of egos. That starts the day. Then it's five or six visitors until dark, so I've gotten into the habit of napping during the day, as best I can, and working at night when I can concentrate. Sort of a backward way of doing things, and, according to some psychiatrists, a conclusive sign of schizophrenia. I'm prickly and short-tempered - partly by nature, and partly because time is all an artist has (like the rest of us, I reckon) so guarding it is a priority. I lucked out in the genetic department and still have a teenage body, though I'm crippled by chronic thrombophlebitis which I contracted, acutely, while setting up a fishing operation here in Dangriga. That was a classic case of lemonade from lemons, because being confined to bed for a year and a half awakened me to the possibilities of actually working - in bed - and I found, a little later, that by doing so I could put in twenty or thirty hours as a session, while sitting even in a comfortable chair limited most writing days to five or six hours. Recently, I commonly write ten thousand words a day, and once did slightly over seventeen thousand at a stretch. I mention this because it's very much part of the secret of my output, but that's a personal situation because other writers have published at the half-million-word-a-year pace I maintain, and I doubt they wrote in bed (or had phlebitis). I guess it could be taken askance for an adult to describe his bed to a strange child on the Net, but it, too, is part of the secret. It's a common type of bed but with wooden slats covering the bottom, where the box-spring would fit, in the States. I have a foam, about thirty inches wide, to lie on, and the computer and monitor sit on the slats at my right elbow. It is fantastically comfortable, and if there is any greater reward for eight or ten hours at the keyboard, Samantha excepted, than rolling over for a quick cat nap, I'd like to know what it is. Also, the head of the bed is five inches higher than the foot, and that makes quite a difference when it comes to sitting up in bed. I don't think it would work if you couldn't touch type, looking at the monitor while the keyboard is on your lap, so stick with Mavis like she had a magic wand and golden goose. As to that, look at it this way. Every top executive in the world would pay you a hundred thousand dollars if you could teach him to touch type at a reasonable speed. It's nearly the ultimate skill and, in this day and age, should be taught in kindergarten, with Chicklet-size keys. I give household hints in some of the essays I include in my novels, and I get quite a kick out of domestic life, partly because there's so little of it. For example, I once went over five years without stepping inside a shop of any kind. I think polyester fabrics are the unsung miracle of the modern age for the poor - and do I know the poor! I remember my mother darning cotton socks when I was maybe six or eight years old. She had to put an egg in each toe, then reweave the material with needle and thread; same for the heel. They wore out in weeks. I haven't worn any in almost ten years, but the last pairs I had, in the States, lasted years and never showed the slightest sign of loosening at the ankles or wearing out. Same with all other garments. They wear like iron, which is especially important in a culture totally committed to laundry as is ours here. I remember on my second visit bringing some expensive dress shirts from the States. Every time my neighbor at the time washed them, they'd come back noticeably lighter, and I finally had to wash them myself. This fits in with your dad's efforts to get you to appreciate extra things, but even ordinary things can be pretty extra if you compare them to their ancestors, so to speak. Your story of your first time with your dad brought back a horrible memory, vaguely related. It was my first night at summer camp. At about ten at night, I suddenly had to use the toilet, but, in the confusion of moving in, I didn't know where it was. That was a very, very, very, very long night, and I finally had to relieve myself, which made it considerably longer. Anytime you, in your life, do anything new with kids, be sure these needs are met. Anyway, I know what it's like, perhaps almost as a soldier does, to await the dawn. As to the psychological part, my suggestion is to be aware that the attraction of girls your age to adult males is, to put it mildly, overpowering. In Victorian times, and this was specifically confirmed by my ultra-Victorian grandmother, no young girl of any age was ever to be left alone in the company of an older male under any circumstances. Period. Exclamation point. Never, ever. Her father, her older brothers, her uncles, the minister, the butcher, the baker, and the candlestick maker. I never asked Gran about doctors, and her father was one, but my guess is they were included. Chaperoning was an industry and raison d'être for countless mature females. The Victorians were at least partially right, if virginity is the object of life, because the instinct in the male is very often, all classes, all races, extreme; I mean, watch bears or stallions fighting and it will give you some idea. The atavistic nature of the physical side of it also strongly affects the psychological side of the situation. In other words, at least subliminally, it's likely your dad thought that your wanting to zip the bags together and cuddle was provocative. It is very hard for men, and if you've read much Agatha Christie you'll know this, to get certain things through their heads, paramount among them, the notion that girls don't want it to happen as much as they do. Of course, many girls do, and that complicates things tenfold. It would be interesting to take your case to an experienced trial judge and see what he or she had to say. Yes, he raped you from the first touch of his penis against your bare thighs until he'd ejaculated on your hands and stomach and then went back to sleep. It's a permanent condition. You will, to your dying day, have been raped in the eyes of every law of every land, civil and barbaric. Yes, what would a judge who's seen hundreds or maybe even a thousand such cases over a long career say? He'd probably, in a hearing, try to determine the maliciousness of the event and the degree of intent behind it. He or she, in their career, have dealt, undoubtedly, with many instances where a moment's inattention at the wheel of a car resulted in calamity that makes what happened to you seem like a mosquito bite in comparison; children burning alive, to be graphic. This is much of what I try to accomplish in my writing. Preaching, if you want to call it that (which would be a sacrilege to any organized church and perhaps the one time they agreed with each other in a millennium), perspective. I believe in one story I pointed out the relevant fact that boys, and some girls, willingly step into the boxing ring with others and pummel away, both receiving and inflicting pain for their efforts. This, of course, would apply more to the victims of outright rape than the technical, or legal, rape committed by your dad. As far as the psychology goes, let me tell you this story. I once gave CPR to a heart-attack victim.I hadn't been trained, and in the emergency - he was dead as the proverbial doorknob - I blew into his mouth much too hard, figuring to get as much air as possible into his lungs. What happens in a case like that about defines graphic, so read slowly with your eyes squinched half shut. Okay, ready? He, a seventy-year-old man, vomited into my mouth. Okay? If that isn't an invasion, then there is no such thing. To be honest about it, you pretty obviously want to be a writer, at least as a hobby for the Internet; okay, extremes are the borders you'll be dealing with, and lying awake for hours slick with your father's semen, confused and scared, is an extreme. Knowing them, and knowing them to be survivable, is part of what gives you the very abnormal level of self-confidence it takes to spend much of your life at a keyboard, knowing people will want to read what you have to say. Now don't go cutting off ears or burning the cats, because that's like these morons out looking for pre-packaged extremes like structure jumping or rock climbing. They're nothing but entertainment for trolleys without wheels, and enough come your way without paying for experiences. It's simpler. Having survived one with, as far as I can tell, flying colors, you need be - reasonably - less afraid of others. Much of this, of course, you've gotten already, and will continue to get, from reading. A good example is Ernest Shackleton, one of my boyhood heroes. As many extremes as you can find in almost any man's life. On the one hand, a dangerous lunatic sailing a flat-sided ship into dense pack ice, on another hand, a bullying bum who exploited his underlings unmercifully while living high on the hog, himself, and, on the third hand, something of a hero for his march across South Georgia Island. He serviced dowagers in furtherance of his meaningless cause and brainwashed simple men with a dime's worth of charisma. He survived because of the genuine heroism of his ship's captain and the boatswain of the "Endurance" who worked instead of talking. He is famous because of the heroism of the photographer who recorded the destruction of his ship, his lunatic effort to shove heavy whale boats across three hundred miles of badly ridged ice - they made four miles in seven days - and carried the movie film safely back to civilization. All this is to say that I'm sorry your first experience wasn't on a bed of lilacs with an adored partner, but the reality of what happened seems to have kicked you into gear, not that you needed it, and given a focus to your life that otherwise would not exist. My hope is that this plays out for you tolerably well over the long haul, because that's what life is all about; the wearing of mountains down to molehills. I'm sure you have other things to do, so I'll let you go. E. to T. I had other things to do, but you were spot on about our housekeeping, so they can wait. I'd rather write to my prickly artist friend. Extremes as the borders of perspective. That's so much in a nutshell, but it's so accurate. Waiting for the dawn. But yes, the sun did rise, and it was a day pretty much like any other, at least until I read your story on the laptop - and that was bad of me, oops, I'll tell you in a minute - and was suddenly facing two extremes at the same time. How you pictured what happened between father and daughter, and how I felt after that long night. Now the oops thing. It was bad of me because I rigged the video at home to spy on him so I could get his password. So there was another extreme; that I shouldn't have been in the file, in the first place. Sneak thief, rape victim, and porn reader. Pretty good for a twelve-year-old, don't you think? It's been three days now, since that night, and jeez, we are bucketing along kind of, aren't we. My counter says 6,007 words. The vacuum will last forever at this rate. But, wow, hey, I'm a kid, I can say it, I like writing to you and reading what you send me. Even about socks. It reminded me of that PBS series about the family they got - I think it was BBC - to live exactly as a family of a hundred years ago. They hated every minute of it, wanted to violate their contract and quit. I try to imagine washing, drying, and ironing one of those fabric fortresses they called dresses, and my blood runs cold. And where did they dry them? In foggy, wet London? In the city? You'd think every house would have rotted to bits just from always being wet most of the time. But that, too, was a time of extremes. If you were at all well-to-do, the mistress of the household could farm out all the work to servants and sip tea or laudanum all day, you know, if the gin ran low. We have a big pressure cooker and two microwave ovens. Mom and I can cook enough food for the week in two hours on Sunday. Dad says we pay for our trips to Mexico because we know how to make rice and bean-based meals that we can eat every day, just like they do, without getting tired of them - you know, jalapeños. Laundry is a non-issue, too. I'll bet we don't spend ten girl-hours a week on domestic stuff, and, if we're not house-proud, we don't live crummy, either. By this time what happened that night really is beginning to fade. You've helped, but, you know, kids are curious, and that's beginning to be my feeling, now. Was he awake? What did his semen look like? Was he thinking I was Mom? Has he ever done anything like that with my brothers when he took them camping? If I'd known what was happening, and guided him inside me instead of trying to push him back, would I be pregnant now? What if I was? That kind of thing. One thing I should explain is that we homeschool. Since we started with phonics and the multiplication tables when I was three and the boys were four or five, we've passed all the high school tests and have our GEDs. Pretty funny, eh, because they're meant for kids who are trying to catch up. Anyway, Dad thinks it's great that I'm practicing my typing so much so there's no flak on the academic front. I just worry about eating up your time. T. to E. As I said, this is for publication on Nifty, so you're not using my time but rather creating it, and extremely well, I might add. And you're right, the word count is soaring. The accepted record, by the way, is D.H. Lawrence writing the hodgepodge called "Women in Love" at the rate of three thousand words a day. This brings up an interesting technical point. Okay, he probably wrote with a pen, perhaps a typewriter, but he had an editor. We use word processors, but have to review and proof our own copy. Which is more efficient? Of course, having a word processor and an editor would be kind of trick, but if it's a choice of one or the other, I'll take "Word" and with a million thanks. You may have seen this before, if you've been reading my work, but the great secret of the word processor is not that it allows you to work efficiently on a particular manuscript, but that it allows you to practice free of charge, assuming you have a computer to begin with. I wrote my first novel on the traditional Royal portable, and it cost in the hundreds of dollars for ribbons, repairs, paper, carbons, and mostly correcting tape, because I may rattle along to beat the band, but I make lots of mistakes. The same exact thing is true of digital photography. Once you have the equipment, you can take thousands of dollars' worth of pictures for a few nickels' worth of electricity, so you can practice. And writing takes practice. In my case, an easy hundred thousand hours over forty years, and probably half of that is actually typing out scripts, the other half more intellectual. My guess is you have ten to twenty times the talent I did at your age, maybe more. But it's a false scent, the talent part. A candle made for snuffing. The number of one-trick wonders out there, Eric Segal, with "Love Story", for example, or Ken Kesey with "...Cuckoo's Nest", is enough to send a smart person into bookkeeping rather than book writing. Live, read, and practice, in any order you choose, as long as in nearly equal amounts. Substituting a natural gift for any of the three is, indeed, a shortcut, but, not to overly diddle with the language, one that may cut short. In fact, I hate praising you for fear of locking you in place - oh, he says I'm great, how 'bout that? - and, as Archie used to say, "stifling" your development. Yes, you have gotten off to an extraordinary start, partly, I think, because you were mad when you first wrote and just went at it, no mental convolutions involved, and certainly with no lack of confidence. But the long-ball's the thing. Yes, again, bunting is useful, hitting for average, base running, athletic smarts including the ability to fake convincingly, but it's the five hundred foot rope that's it in this game, because it's not baseball, it's writing, and huge numbers of people can do a thoroughly competent and reasonably well-crafted job of it; letters to the editor, newsletters, that kind of thing, ah, but can they get their second wind at a hundred thousand words and double that number before they type The End? The power players are the advertising dudes with billions in commerce riding on a cute thought or nifty squib. "What's in your wallet?" is one of those distillations that make even an Einstein of long novel, short novel, long short story, and short short story shudder with envy, the writer, almost surely male, I'm afraid, making more off four words than I'd make of four million, even if I wrote for print. Writing for Nifty is the archetypal case in point.In fact, before beginning this evening's stint, in other words, five minutes ago, I get confirmation from David, my editor, reading a terse: "I've added this story to the Bi Adult/Young Friends section of the Archive, Thanks, Nifty" as some reward and pat on the back for "Poet of Phu Bai", the jewel in my literary crown and hands-down the greatest novel ever published. Nor will I get a single letter. Yet even had I the ego of a four-legged ant, I'd be thrilled because that story will be out there, literally, forever, as long as "ever" is measured against a civilized baseline. In the end, millions will read it, and that, as I said, is a thrill, a thrill, and a thrill and a half. Like the sign in many a cubicle says, "You don't have to be crazy to do this, but it helps." From opening riff to stunning triple conclusion, "Poet" is a mesmerizing phantasm of literary and erotic perfection. Tight, at under seventy thousand words, but loaded like McVeigh's Ryder. Much of it true as God's green apples. And if you think my ego runs rampant here, get a load of me, as hero of the condensed epic, winning two Medals of Honor and two Oscars on consecutive days. It makes me so much greater than Christ with his little drummer boy weeping because he has no gift for The Presence. No, not so much as a "pum" for me, much less a "rum-pa-pa-pum". What I'm giving you here, dear Erica, is an object lesson in, a, what it takes, and, b, how you do it. Unmitigated gall based on decades of reading, living, and practice, not ego, and turning lemons, as with the phlebitis, into lemonade - i.e., double-timing the very lack of friendly response right into the word count. Same deal with ego. Gut too much? Add it to the sacred count. You have started in the same manner, your dad's semen all over your innocent tummy. Something apparently traumatic happened and there you were, a huddled, and perhaps slightly soggy ball of misery, and suddenly your immortal, your story bound for a red hot archive where it will live until the end of modern time. Good girl, now go for it. How are things with your dad, now? Have your mom or brothers responded in any notable way? What's next for you? Life back to normal, no harm no foul, or is there a tendril of longing or yearning in you, an insidious, subconscious rubbing of fire sticks? Let me tell you something. For three years I drove a city bus in Los Angeles. Erica, I could tell an incest victim from half a block; stiff, robotic, detached, and this included women in their fifties. Bent and crippled, maimed and tarnished, hollow and wishing for death. Try not to be one, for the toll society exacts for what is essentially a physical act, perhaps somewhat painful, with its spooky, taboo fetishes is a life-denying toll. Feminist literature goes on and on about the insult of the assault, the degradation, the invasion of privacy - television, books, movies, it's always exactly the same mimeographed copy. In the Jew's box of publishing labeled "sex with dad," you can be naught but a one hundred percent victim because that's what the label on the box says. They ran the Weimar Republic, they ran the Bolsheviks, and now, duh'uh, they're running us. A good example is the film "Bad Boys". The little black boy is thrown to his death from a walkway, and the adorable, glib Jew runs an empire from his cell, none of the hardened convicts apparently interested in seeing him so much as barefooted. "Chinatown" is another distortion. Again, duh'uh, the bad-daddy is hairy, heavy, old, and nasty. Same thing in the movie where the guy has all the videos set up in his apartment building; the "step father" is ditto, ditto, ditto and ditto. A very unhealthy box. Conversely, never have you seen "Wicked William and Wild Wanda" with a thirty-year-old Patrick Swayze playing across from a ten-year-old Haley Mills; what happened in their camping tent of a summer night. As you get older, this will all make sense, should you go on with choosing not to be a victim; nothing is said against incest between an attractive, committed father and daughter or brother and sister. Thus, to a young mind, it is all sickness, and only sickness, because they haven't the maturity to gain perspective from what is not actually produced for the commercial audience. I rank myself as a heterosexual pedophile. The sight of even young, attractive bearded males kissing softly at a Vermont wedding brings a visceral reaction, and for long seconds I'm as homophobic as the boys in Wyoming. (Without the beards, it would be merely highly objectionable, but in my view facial hair is ninety-eight percent repulsive, both physically and psychologically. I am joined by many, many millions in this. Let me add this, since you mentioned your dad looks like Rick Schroeder. I used him extensively, certainly more than any other writer, in "One Fish at a Time" (don't happened to know where it's posted on Nifty), and, yes, if he invited me to shower with him, I would, but that's pretty much it in the homo department. Tom Cruise to Rock Hudson, very few Hollywood guys are sexy at much more than a shop-girl level, but that goes for the girls, too. In fact, the only two actresses who knock me out are the girl who plays Mavis Multurd in the BBC comedy, "Are You Being Served, Again," and Kate Thompson, who played the teacher in the absolutely ethereal and total-genius film, "The Gods Must be Crazy." The rest tend to be for "Playboy" readers, bland, glossy, and dumb. This brings up children. The odds are better, for one thing; about one kid in twenty or thirty has at least a vague appeal, and a few in some hundreds have strong allure. To an amazing extent this is psychological; how interesting would they be as friends and companions, the svelte, tawny, smooth, soft bodies amounting to a titillation rather than any degree of compulsion. It is my belief that among literate, artistic people, my tastes in human flesh are stereotypical. The lucky thing is, so many millions of accomplished men share them, they built, as I repeat in my various stories, the monastery system, crewed the navies, and built the foundation of the Internet. Life would not be the same without us, and I mean that looking at the top one-tenth of the pyramid. I'm glad to hear you're home-schooling. They're dangerous places with their know-it-all trade-unionist teachers. They'll have you read Salinger, pure poison, and Golding, and Kafka, and Nabokov, and Horrible Hemingway; kill you right out as a reader and writer. Again, The Box of literary greats. I hope we are a "we" now, because we're doing great. I have nothing optimistic to say about the future, and, indeed, there's a possibility we're as far from 2050 as 1903 was from 1950, in which case you've got a sleigh ride ahead. On the other hand, the difference between 1050, in which year I was four years old, and today, amount, computers definitely excepted, to color television and no lube jobs for the family buggy. Everything else is incremental, slightly better this and a little cheaper that, in terms of domestic items, polyester, as mentioned previously, probably the fundamental good-guy. Unfortunately, that's not the entire then-&-now scene. The entire scene is the destruction of six thousand American home towns, the finest in the world, by the Kresges, Waltons, and Krocs. This is the greatest disaster in the history of civilization, but broke no significant laws. Under such a system you live, Erica, one that would imprison your dad for twenty years if you reported it, and one in which you'll experience the dignity and beauty of a classic American home town with its awnings and picture windows only at Disneyland. Those circling the drain can be excused for living for the moment if anyone can. What was the last night at Masada really like? Were the children put down with a crack to the back of the head, or finally killed after a night of use by their killers? Something to ponder on your next trip to Starbucks. A short life in a gilded cage. But remember, I can be laughed out of town, made a fool and idiotic poltroon, but, the only trouble is, by readers fifty years from now, who, living in some semblance of what we have today, will know my fears were groundless and my worries baseless. Except at the toy level, we have not advanced in the half century of my life. I view it as the pause before the fall. Again, extremes and perspective. Already, at twelve, you have lived a million lifetimes compared to your great-grandmother at your same age. Generally speaking, present company excluded, the real horror of your generation is its ignorance, its ambivalence, and its total lack of appreciation for what you have, so far beyond the wildest dreams of anyone a snap of the fingers ago. I first saw "Jaws" in a big theater in Boston. The screams of the audience, sometimes two or three breaths long, crashed and sizzled through the auditorium. Today you see it, nineteen inches, sitting in your cold diapers sucking on a lollipop. I don't relate the two experiences to each other beyond saying one was fully human and the other is not. Your turn. What's happening with you and your dad, mom, and brothers? David, my non-editing editor at Nifty may be laconic to the point of being phlegmatic, but he has a dead eye for what's hot and what's not. Hint, hint. E. to T. Two days. Sorry. Hope you didn't think I'll slept with the pills or anything dramatic. I should add: Your Highness, because the reason I've delayed writing is I've been reading. I'd like to turn the tables on you by parroting one of your little reader's quizzes, but the answer to What has Erica been reading is such a duh'uh, you'd guess - as you already have. I got caught out. I was laughing so hard at Daffy Duck mooing and sinking, Dad had to get to the bottom of it.Tom, we read it together, and you can tell David not to worry. But first, I want to say it is the greatest of all novels, impossibly great, yes, the work of a god. It crashes and storms the senses, and then along comes a sex scene, and if it's not that, back to laughing out loud, sorely needed comic relief, 'cause next thing you know Thor and Mars are hacking it out. Never, if I live to be a hundred, will I look at a can of Coke again without picturing that quaking helo smashing itself to pieces and tearing young men to pieces. At the same time, it's the most compelling delineation of good and evil, truth and honor, fit and unfit of all time. Cannot be exceeded. Wow, wow, and wow again from me, from dad, from mom, and from Del, Mack, and Scott. One note. I was flattered by the edited version of my letters which you attached to your last email. You changed nothing but managed to spruce me up, maybe like a champion hairdresser. Thanks. Folks, I do not write this well, just so you'll know, but knowing I have the gods on my side, I carry on as I see fit, relying on their (his) benevolence. "You haven't laughed for days, sweetie, what's so funny?" Ryan Jensen asked his twelve-year-old daughter, Erica. "I guess I'm glad you're here, Dad," the girl replied, "because I wanted to talk about stuff and show you some files. I didn't know how to go about it, but if I can sit in your lap while we read this story, it would make it easier than any introduction I can think of to a father/daughter talk." "I'm not sure about the lap thing, hon," the thirty-two-year-old accountant said, "but I'd love to read something with you. In fact, we've missed you in the living room these last few evenings, but I let it go because I could hear you clicking away in your room and there's no substitute for being able to type." "That part comes later," the girl said, "and I want to sit in your lap, at least for a while. Please?" "Well, sure," Ryan said, easing into the chair as Erica stood, then whoofing as she dropped, thump, in his lap, tilting the monitor slightly so each would have a comfortable view of the scrolling text. She returned to the top of the document, rereading as avidly as she had on her father read. "Where did you find this?" the man asked, a mere five paragraphs in. "You'll figure that out soon enough," the girl said with a soft laugh, and they read on. A minute or two went by. "My god," Ryan whispered, "it's Nifty. It's [and here he named the author]. Oh, baby." "Keep reading," the pixie instructed, bouncing in her handsome father's lap to emphasize her directive. And read they did for first one hour, then two, shifting their positions slightly, taking turns with the scrolling mouse, and finally sagging back in the chair, half exhausted but wholly entertained and feeling nothing less than that they had received absolution. "I guess we have a few extremes of our own to deal with," Ryan said, because the girl followed the intense novel with the opening of her exchange of letters with the writer. "And contradictions, too," Erica said, "in my case, an extreme of negativity resulting from a positive action morphing into an extreme of said negativity in the absence of future positive actions, positive defined as something physical that happens, not a value judgment." "I wonder," Ryan mused, trying to keep up with his daughter, "if there's an opposite to the Pennsylvania babies; neglected infants who grow up without human characteristics; in other words, if a child is overly cared for, mightn't she grow up so literate and articulate her own father will have a hard time following her logic." He punched her lightly on the shoulder to let his daughter know that he was half kidding. "Beyond prodigy," he mused to himself, but how did it bode? If you ate the world as a cracker, all its intellectual harum-scarum as a peanut, wouldn't it create a thirst for common things? Common talk? Common ideas? The vaulting stuff of yore, well, it was all contaminated with religion and cultist ideology and amounted to nothing more than a prism bending and separating the rays of indoctrination into different hues and shades, but with the same corrupt source. It was for its own cleverness, its lauded practitioners merely the glibbest of the counterfeiters. Where was a child like this to turn? To apply her prodigious questing for insight? What would be her luck at finding a true ray, an uncorrupted source, and, ideally, use the light, grow from the light, but understand that the light was the truth and not try to bend it? Would two prisms, properly aligned with each other, bend, use, and then restore the spectrum? The thoughts had a parallel in his own field, accounting. Could an executive embezzle, make use of the funds, then restore them as if he hadn't touched them in the first place, adding, from his own pocket, even the few dollars of interest that might have been earned by the purloined amount over a brief period of time? In theory, yes, but had anyone ever actually done it, paid for his kid's operation, to use a possible motivation, restored the money in six months, and escaped detection in a future audit? Never mind the morality, concentrate on the physics; the underlying laws of mathematics, possibly leaving out only those concerning gravity, hard to see how they'd matter. Could they deviate and restore? Scientifically, the answer was Of course not. A ship, for example, piloted even a theoretical inch off course will use part of a theoretical gram more fuel in reaching point B. That didn't help much and indeed over-measuring was perhaps even nuclear to the issue, her, him, them worrying about straying to the point the emotion became the issue, not the activity. That was beginning to make sense, but it's converse, to exercise extentionist philosophy, was the rationalizations of the libertine, the philanderer and the good old-fashioned cocksmith. "You can tell by the way I use my walk, I'm a women's man, no time to talk." What did that have to do with stayin' alive? Would Little Erica love that shit? Could such a girl, once upon the slickest of slopes, again mellow out to Abba, or would she jitter, bugged into an obsession with and addiction to the novel, for its own sake? Nothin' weren't nothin' lessen it were new? True? Devilish, because it was half true, and partly proved by contrasting it to the misery generated by Jews, often as a direct result, as delineated in "The Jazz Singer", of the abhorrence of anything "new". "Do you want to start at the tent?" the athletic young man asked. "Do you remember?" was her first question. "No," her father said, "not a glimmer. Your mom, since we're going to be speaking as adults for the duration, says that's happened before, you know, something in the middle of the night. Not to be glib, or anything, but she wasn't trying to push me away. I never remember it any more than one remembers most dreams, but a couple of times she's shown me a damp nightie, and I never had reason to doubt her in the first place." "I'll bet it makes her glad she married you," the girl responded. "You're a love to say that," her dad said with a hug, "but she couldn't feel that any more than I feel glad to have her." "Obviously," the child giggled. "It sure is good to hear you laugh again, sweetie," Ryan said. "I suppose I should have put two and two together after that night; realized something must have happened and tried to talk to you, you know, because you seemed sort of morose and withdrawn the next day, but it never occurred to me that it was anything more than a transient case of the blues or some-such." Hi, it's me. Is that okay for a beginning? Will people want to hear more? Remember what you said about stroking young writers, freezing them, and be honest. Other subjects: First: Dad and I both think it's the extent to which we've all become Jewish - superficial and materialistic - boxed in - that's the abiding danger. The theory of the lowest common denominator, as presented by Mencken and a raft of others, with everyone wanting to be equal to us, yet, in the true scheme of things, fit far more to shine our shoes and drive our taxicabs. We engulf in the name of smarm, and to keep us from harm, need a king's arm. That's the Poet of Daytona Beach, and I'll spare you and our future millions any more, at least for the moment. Yes, I take us as partners, flattered to my toenails, for better or worse, and so on, and as long as you keep writing, I will. By the way, Dad says our family portfolio has, market conditions notwithstanding, reached thirty-two million dollars, which Dad says is awkward because it's not conveniently divisible by four if he pulls an Earnhardt on the freeway. Maybe that's what calculators were invented for. Living cheaply - pays. Boy, if you can get that across to your readers it would be really something. Of course, dad's a wizard at picking other things than mom, so let's not get people's hopes too high. He's frozen out our account, as he calls it, selling off anything speculative and replacing it with government securities - the last dollars they'll be, not that it makes any difference (in his words) - and he doesn't want us to continue school unless we have a specific reason for wanting to do so, and one to do with math, not the soft stuff you can learn in the comfort and company of your own home, like history, you know, partly thanks to the Net, and he doesn't want us to work, because he feels those who don't have to should leave paying jobs to those who do. It's okay to be artists and to patronize the arts. "That's what we're here for," he says, the old hypocrite, because he's still outta here at eight every morning and sometimes doesn't get home 'till eight. But I've got my work cut out for me in spite of his injunction.Guess why. Do one of your cute little reader quizzes and see if you can get the folks to guess why Erica has her work cut out for her. Tell them to be wildly optimistic, over the top, over the moon, and they'll hit the nail on the head. Okay, enough, you know, it's not a thing to overdo. Erica Jensen has her work as a neophyte writer cut out for her ta-da, ta-da, ta-da, because, drum roll, she's, add ruffles and flourishes, going, that's where the herald comes in: camping with her dad! We're taking El Fabuloso, the laptop, (my feelings about it certainly run the gamut of extremes), so there shouldn't be any long, mysterious interruptions. Kiss me. By the way (I think I already said that), if you want to fantasize about what happens on the trail, I'm not some beauty queen. I'm five feet tall and weigh ninety-one pounds, and, if I look like an actress, it's Mackenzie Phillips in "American Graffiti". I have an idea, you know, a literary one. Why don't you write what you think happens as a Schroeder and Phillips look-alikes go camping, and I'll write what actually happens. We're leaving tomorrow morning, so, 'till next time, you'll be pretty right picturing me Sleepless just outside Daytona Beach. And one last b-t-w: if you want money for anything, dad says we can split it from our accounts. You'd like my mom, too. See ya. T. to E. You rank with Samantha as a total reward for every last minute of the gulag labor it took to get where I am. No thanks to the loot. Seven of us live on twenty-five grand a year, and that keeps the domestic side of things in sharp focus at all times. I need some relief from the keyboard syndrome, and, since Linden, Samantha's oldest brother, ruined my camera, nursing out dollars has taken its place as an alternate avocation. For all the bombast about king and literary angel, I like being poor. I would trade neither Samantha nor you for the Gates and Walton fortunes, combined. I actually need to bucket into town on rough roads in rickety cars. I need seeing the faces of Elston and Tonton, the two boys living downstairs, get bigger because they are going hungry. Total, day-to-day connection. It's the minerals and trace elements that make me what I am. Perhaps because I was hit so hard, so often, by my mother, I need higher levels of intensity than are deemed normal, I don't know. In any event, it's one exceedingly lucky day after another, and tempting that with your kind offer, well, let's just say I'm happy with what I've got. Thank you for reminding me of Daffy Duck. If I have one frustration in life, it's not being able to simply say what things (my stories) are, without being taken as the very mother of all braying jackasses. There is sketched the most monumentally memorable character in the English language. She illustrates what the written word can do: imagine trying to get those scenes across on film. Unstageable. And yet there she is, leading off the most stageable screenplay ever written. More of our dear old extremes. We're over ten thousand words in three days. Epic of you. Fantastic. You give too much credit for polishing up your work; it would stand as mailed, but I just can't help myself. Thank you for making it more of a joy than it was. Your idea of a mutual titillation society is - duh'uh - perfect. It woozes my mind to know, if you don't get snake bit or something, you'll be returning to three older brothers... meantime.... "Daddy," the girl said as they paused to sit on a boulder, a comfortable five miles of quiet meandering over pasturelands behind them, "why was there so much sperm? I mean, I never really thought about it, but I guess, since there are so many swimming in each drop of semen, a drop or two would do. But it just went on and on, pumping all over me for more than a minute." "Well," Ryan said, "if you think of it from a bean counter's perspective, maybe the reason goes something like this: it's a great pleasure for a male to release it, to cum off, and the more semen there is, the greater and more extended the intense feelings of a climax. If this is true, then over the millennia, a little Darwinism might kick in: males the most, you know, active in that department would be more likely to leave children in females than males who experienced a lesser intensity during the process of impregnation. Something like that." "That's what scared me," Erica responded. "I mean you read about people bleeding to death, and what was happening kept going on and on." "Darling," the young father whispered, "it will tonight, too. By chance your mom and I haven't made love for the last three nights; in fact, what happened in the tent three nights ago, well, that was the last time it happened, and that time, to tell you the whole story, I'd made love to your beautiful mother the night before." "Oh, Daddy," the girl whispered, and they sat closely together for more minutes than their young bodies needed to recover from hiking in the flatlands of Florida. "Sweetheart," Ryan said, "I have a little more to say on the subject. Two nights, it was coincidence we, your mom and I, didn't make love. Last night, it was deliberate. I told her about, first, my Nifty files on the laptop, and second, about what happened in the tent. Her response was to the effect that I seem to have done an okay job as a family man, so far, and then she thought for a few minutes. `How would you feel about not using protection with her?' she whispered. The implications - you know, so beloved of an accountant - took a while to seep in, but it was a pretty fiery moment for your old dad when they hit home. Do you get the picture, darling?" The schoolgirl chewed her lip for a moment. "You don't have to be an accountant to know what might happen between us if we're completely naked when it happens. I'm old enough. My first period was two weeks ago, and I'm a hundred percent not on the pill. Your daughter and granddaughter, my daughter and sister. Mom's granddaughter. Wouldn't that be a family tree like a natural tree, curves instead of straight lines?" she concluded with a giggle. "They say these latest computers can figure out darn near anything," Ryan replied. They continued sitting on the limestone outcropping. "Yes," Erica finally said. "We're home people, anyway, you know, with school and all, and we're long overdue for something like a European excursion, the kind families sometimes make to adopt a child. And the girl - that's the only thing I insist on, now that it can be programmed - would have three adorable uncles to bathe her, starting at age three, when I wouldn't have minded at all if things had happened in the tub with you or my brothers, if I'd known what was going on." "You're so totally your mother's daughter," Ryan said, "and I honestly don't know if that makes it feel more or less like incest." "Well, it doesn't feel human," the twelve-year-old said, "it feels like more than fairy tales coming true, like they did for Evanna, or Madonna's Evita. A magic land. Beyond reality. And another stipulation. Mom gets pregnant, too. I've seen the boys looking at her like she's a woman, and even if they only have a quarter as much sperm as you do, one of them might do the trick; and, think how cool; with DNA, we'd know who fathered each of us, so there'd be some clarity in the family tree." "As a top-of-my-field accountant," Ryan said, "I give you five gold stars for driving a hard bargain." Erica, as you know a branch of my self-indulgence as a writer, since you mentioned trees, is going off on editorial tangents. Since you and your dad are getting along so famously, it might be an idea to take a little break as intense doses of fiction age me out. One thing I wanted to say, and this is to do with writing, is that my favorite author is John O'Hara - short stories, only. He rates fairly lowly on any literary who's who, and I think it was because he was always seeking recognition. He came from a very different class and background than I do, but I wonder if we don't share a common instinct: seeking recognition knowing that by doing so it will be denied us, ergo, leaving us more time to write. What I'm talking about here is the sleep-cycle necessary to make the grade in fiction; how easily it can be interrupted, yet how fundamentally crucial it is to productivity. I cannot turn on the computer until I'm totally rested. A sort of "hark" feeling you get - and it's weird, because it happens in an instant - when bed is suddenly the last place you want to be. I roll with the punches on domestic stuff; had ten visitors before starting work this evening, but napping here and there, managed to get in twenty or thirty winks, which, since I'm writing to you (and it helps) was enough. Anything that significantly interrupted this pattern, and the demands of renown certainly would top the list, would spoil the pattern, and my output would zero-out in a heartbeat. It's a vague, not a precise thing, at the same time being absolute, if that isn't too much of a paradox. I spell it out, because, along with the bed and typing skill, it's at least possibly of great significance to other writers and potential writers. Start absolutely fresh. That's it in a nutshell. Start fresh and I, almost sixty, can go on for an easy ten to twelve hours buoyed along by, you guessed it, the dynamic start. (The reason I now stop after ten or twelve hours is that, lying down, my eyes get bleary - rheumy - , something you can put on your B-list of potential handicaps.) All the writer advice I've read, and it hasn't been much, says the opposite. Set a time and a place, a routine, and, if you're a writer, write, dammit. As wrong as Iridium. It would, again, neuter me overnight.Just wanted to get that in reasonably early in the game as a note bene, or however you say "important note" in Latin. Here's a for-instance, vis-à-vis the treatment of writers. Look up the following films in "Encarta": "The Gods Must be Crazy" and "American Graffiti". Read the articles. Two points. First, "A.G." is editorially lauded, given in fact quite a spin, but, guess what? No writer is mentioned, though the actress playing the third carhop is. Second point, vis-à-vis H.L. Mencken: the editorial spin is not in the least in evidence in the piece on "Gods". Don't get me wrong. "American Graffiti" is an A-list film, but "The Gods Must be Crazy" is three times as good, and it's reported in objective deadpan. No Jews in it, could it be that simple? It broke all attendance records - in the world - and it's described in a flat cow flop of prose. The scene of the constable reporting in after his shack has been smashed, standing rigidly at attention as he shouts the details into the telephone, is all the dignity, wit, charm, and humanity it is possible to capture in any medium, well, Daffy Duck perhaps excepted. The scenes of trying to get the Land Rover through the gate are funnier, per ten seconds, are funnier than Mickey Mouse's career, cubed. The scene in the classroom is simply why I live as close as I can get, which happens to be Belize. Moving on to politics. England. Flap over possible over-reporting of Saddam's weapons of mass destruction. Gist of the writing: we went to war on false pretenses over a tempest in a teapot. Gist of reality: the Looney Tune set seven hundred oil wells on fire and used poison gas. I don't think it gets more Jewish than that since Torah and Talmud teach forgetting arguments as readily, for coin or fame, as invoking them. Barry Sheck forgot, for another example, a thousand times more than he used when he stigmatized Detective Van Adder for carrying O.J. blood sample in the pocket of his sport jacket. We have had pages and pages of this scum, and, if we want even a hair's breadth chance of survival, we must have pages without them. Again, readers fifty years from now can call me clown and dufus, but meantime all bets are off as we wallow, like our favorite water buffalo, deeper and deeper in the cloying slime of this mongrel race. Since there are no less pleasant subjects, I'm pretty safe going on to, say, the crummy writing in Microsoft's "Slate Magazine" One piece was by a ying-yang who thought flying had something to do with getting an erection, and... I don't know, couldn't finish it. The other was about a klutz on a fishing boat. Generally, I'm on Gate's side, and struggled epically with early Windows machines because I couldn't afford a Mac, and it was better to struggle and publish than dither in obscurity, but I do take issue with his publishing "Encarta", "Slate", and "MSN" which is pretty much "USA Today", you know: seven hints you are living vastly beyond your means and should kill yourself, that kind of article. It's like when actors like Newman and Redford try to direct: mush. (God forbid they tried writing.) Where the company's emphasis should have been, instead, was in integrating effective virus protection starting in about 1990. The federal government should have become involved, as they are in setting and enforcing standards for enriched flour, as one example, and mandated that the very manufacturers of hard drives install protective coding on the assembly line. It's the Fort Knox theory: guard it well, and no one will try to break in. Good virus protection, beginning ten or twelve years ago, would have prevented script kiddies, in the first place, since their parents weren't up to the task. Instead, Microsoft was off into publishing while the government was fussing with them over Netscape. A forest and trees issue. But it brings up an interesting point, a true paradox, because, when you look back on it, in spite of the mortal danger represented by certain contemporary folkways to do with food, greed, credit, sub-literacy, and the like, we have managed to do very little wrong. We have standardized railways, telephones, broadcasting, and video players. In fact, only two major errors stick with me. First, we should have built a railway through the Grand Canyon. By tunneling, much of the waterway would have been left unchanged, and the base of the canyon is essentially a gravel pit, to begin with. The result of not doing this is that only a few privileged people get to view the natural wonder (getting, into the bargain, ten times more than they ever wanted to see, on a good trip). The second thing is burying most utility lines. Putting them underground with the water, gas, and waste lines. Utility poles turns thousands of minor incidents a year into shattering tragedies, are vulnerable to everything from ice to snakes, and cost only a fraction less than running a slit trench. If the women of yore hand been of substance, that would have been their issue, not gibberish about voting, be able to sue each other, and carrying on in public These two issues, by themselves, would render our country, at miniscule cost, thirty percent better than it is now (contemporary issues disregarded for the moment), and cracking the skull of every worker who ever muttered "unite" would add another thirty percent, at zero cost. One small tragedy, and two huge ones. Having said that about "Encarta", I have to admit I use it frequently. How else would one know how to spell Mackenzie Phillips? A little research goes a long way in this game. Call that the hint of the day. Having mentioned spelling, I should add a blurb about typos and glitches. Kid, they just creep in. I apologize for them every thousand pages or so, but there's not much I can do about them. It's very difficult to proof one's own work, and my at times highly convoluted style makes the job twice as tough. The third factor is that in the time it takes to re-write a paragraph, fully proof it, I can write three new ones. At my age, the latter seems like the best choice. I had a reader once who did line-edit some of my stories, but they got lost in a virus attack and so the clean versions, at least grammatically, never got published. An interesting tangent off this subject is a long-time associate who hails from Concord; our fathers were friends. Good example of the flaky liberal. First, he loves my work and sends enthusiastic fan mail, or at least he used to. On the other hand, though he's recipient of a substantial unearned income and doesn't work or do squat, he refuses to edit my copy, off of some self-reliance jag, applied to me, sourced to my great great grandfather. Again with the extremes. He's all Thoreau, all Emerson, but given the opportunity to help a living, breathing descendent (of both, by the way, because my great grandfather, Edward, called Henry David papa for many years (I look so much like RWE there can be no biological base to the name)) he opts out and, though his life is a meaningless shell, writes condescending notes in such profusion I finally dumped his lazy, stupid ass with a Hiel Hitler. Oddly enough, he suggested "Poet of Phu Bai" off of knowing Bing. What drove a final wedge into the most tenuous of relationships, to begin with, is he kept trying to serve my own family up to me. The arrogance of the liberal - moonbeam - can be nothing but funny. He vaguely knows my family, has perhaps spent a minute with them to my hundreds of hours, yet he's the expert and I the uncomprehending dolt. Massively extreme, from an intellectual point of view, and the more so - I almost feel like inserting a reader guessing quiz here: why is his intellectual position so extreme. Well, maybe another time. Wouldn't want the device to go stale. Because, he's a student of Harvard Divinity School. Fuck. Yes, I'm as rough on my own kith and kin as on any Cohen running around loose, and yes, they deserve every word of it, as does Cohen. Sunlight, hold the moonbeams for nocturnal interludes. And it's sunny in Florida, what else is new? as Ryan and Erica sit as if in half a trance on their improvised limestone stool. "In some of his stories, it happens kind of clinically, Dad," the girl said, breaking the insecty silence. "Just the physical act, itself, the first time, without kissing and foreplay and a lot of romantic stuff." "I know," Ryan responded, "but his characters often talk to each other in lieu of physical contact, and I was wondering how you might feel about that." "We could try it and save the other stuff for the baby," his daughter responded. "Erica," Ryan went on, "I have a stipulation of my own. I'm thinking as we go here, and it's subject to revision, like a trial balance, but I think I want you to have a man. One of my tennis partners, a colleague from work, a single guy who can visit and perhaps even live part time with us The reason is largely psychological; growth oriented stuff mixed with self-esteem stuff, but there's a clinical reason, too. There is a lack of pheromones in an incestuous relationship - nature's vague way of limiting inbreeding, I suppose - and you may not be able to climax fully with me or your brothers. "If you sign on, and you don't have to commit one way or the other, until you're ready, I'll parade a bunch of guys by you, unless you have one already in mind, and you can choose." "Wow," the child whispered. "It's partly selfish," the young father added. "The only thing I can think of as exciting as talking with you now is being alone with you fresh from the loins of the proverbial tall, dark stranger." "Daddy," the child responded, letting a little coo into her sweet, shy voice, "if you pulled my panties down and saw I was still you know, messy, from him, would that be the same as pheromones?As a male animal, wouldn't you feel a strong instinct to wash the other male's seed with your own hot sperm? "Yes, angel," Ryan whispered, "if you were messy from the outsider's semen, that would be very exciting, but if you were wet from your brother's, it would be different. I think when that happens I'll want to put just the head of my penis inside you, then cum just a little before I sprayed the rest on your belly; add my seed to theirs, instead of trying to replace it." "We'd have to be very clinical for that to happen, wouldn't we?" Erica wondered. "Careful as porcupines," the man agreed, "but life sometimes provides compensations - the poor not having to worry about their portfolios, that kind of thing - so the very nature of a precise act might generate its own erotic excitement." "So much to experiment with, so much time. I'm glad I'm twelve," the girl said. "As long as you remember that a stable structure diminishes as it rises," Ryan observed, adding: "if I had any doubt you'll put it together correctly, in the end, we'd be talking about the butterflies and crickets, not the birds and the bees."	null	1	Authors/Feather_Touch/Electric Letters - 1.txt
84,920	Bakeboss	An Affair to Remember	You may just think this is another story of a man having an affair and cheating on his wife, but you see my story is different. I am cheating on my wife, but I'm cheating with my wife's boyfriend. Let me start at the beginning, it seems so long ago now, but has really been only a few months. Believe me when I tell you that Sue and I were not swingers or even wild party people, we just happened to meet Shawn at a club. We went out for a quiet meal, and just by chance noticed the club next door to the restaurant. We may have had a little more wine with dinner than we're used to, and when I heard the music coming from the club, I dragged Sue inside for just a couple of dances. We danced and had a couple of cocktails, and we were having a great time. Shawn came up to our table, sat down, and offered to buy us a drink. We accepted, and by the time they arrived, we had introduced ourselves. Shawn asked my wife to dance to a fast tune, and when a slow song came up next, they stayed on the floor. I saw him holding her close, and I could tell he was whispering in her ear, and every so often, she would giggle like a teenager. I know I should have been jealous, but he was so affable, and besides, I trusted my wife, so I really wasn't worried. When they returned to the table, Sue excused herself to go to the ladies, and Shawn slid in next to me. He took a sip of his drink, then said, "You know, Jon, you have a very sexy wife." I agreed and told him I'd always thought so, yet still no alarm bells or warning lights going off in my head. "I'll tell you what I want to do, I want to go home with you folks and fuck your wife as you watch. I know you'd like that, Jon, just think about it a minute." It's funny, I started to say no way, but the image of Sue naked and this man making love to her in front of me, all of a sudden sounded really exciting. I have to be honest, the thought of watching Sue and another man had been a fantasy of mine for a while, but even a hint of it to Sue would end up her being mad at me all night. More as a dare than an invite, I told Shawn there was no way my wife would go along with something like that. He just said to let him worry about convincing Sue to go along. I don't know what he said, but we ended up back at our place, and soon after that, in our bedroom. As Sue and Shawn sat in the love seat in our front room, I poured wine for us all. I sat across from them, watching my wife, nervous as a schoolgirl, jabber away. Shawn took the wine from her hand, placed it on the table, then reached across and began to kiss my wife. I've never been an aggressive man, always asking permission before taking liberties, even with my wife. I've always tried to please her and looked to her for guidance in what she wanted. It was easy to see, Shawn was an aggressor, taking what he wanted as he only looked for his own pleasure. When he and my wife broke their kiss, I could see the lust in her eyes, and I knew she'd never looked at me that way. He unbuttoned her blouse and began caressing her nipples through her bra. He looked up at me and said, "Jon, let's take your wife into the bedroom, and you can help me get her ready to fuck." She meekly took his offered hand as I led us into our bedroom. Once there, he instructed me to remove her clothes. I slid her blouse off her arms, and then, like the clumsy oaf I am, I couldn't get her bra unhooked. Sue gave a sigh of exasperation, along with a look that I knew all too well, and she just ripped the hooks off her bra and threw it on the floor. I unbuttoned her skirt and slid it to her feet, and next, her sexy little slip. I got on my knees to pull her panties off, it was so sexy, I could smell her scent, and her panties were soaking wet. Shawn instructed her to lie on her back across the bed and put her feet up on it. He said nothing to me but merely pointed, and I knew to bury my face in her steamy cunt. My wife usually has a hard time achieving orgasms, and I swear I spend hours coaxing an orgasm out of her. However, this night, she grabbed two handfuls of my hair, holding my face in place, and was moaning in the throes of a super climax within seconds. I looked up to see what brought this on and saw her head off the side of the bed and Shawn's large cock deep down her throat. I believe she was cumming not from my tongue but from his cock in her mouth. I'm sure she had at least three before Shawn pulled out of her mouth, and I heard her give a little 'Oh' of disappointment. She turned to the head of the bed as he climbed on, and I went to sit in our chair and watch. Her look was utter adulation as she came again when he plunged inside her. She rubbed her hands through the hair on his chest, and he began his assault. He picked up his pace, and she screamed for more, begging him to take her. I could see his balls from where I sat, I watched them tense, and knew he was ready to fill my wife with his seed. Once he was done, he climbed off of her, put his clothes on, then looked at me, "You get clean up." Then he gave me his card and said I should call him, and we could do this again sometime. Sue lay on her back, still panting, and I went between her legs and sucked out Shawn's sperm from her worn-out pussy. After I coaxed another climax out of her, I lay down next to her, and as she slowly calmed down, she said, "Jon, I have to do that again, I feel I couldn't live without having that feeling back." I told her he gave me his card, and I would call him tomorrow and invite him over as soon as he could make it. She kissed me, then thanked me, and then turned over and went to sleep. As for me, nobody worried about whether or not I had cum yet. This made me grumpy as I went off to the bathroom to masturbate. I called Shawn the next day from work at about eleven. "Hi, Jon, I'm glad you called, why don't you drop by for lunch?" I agreed, got his address, and was there by twelve-thirty. He lived in a beautiful building in an upscale neighborhood. He opened the door wearing only a swimsuit; he told me he had just got up when I called and was enjoying the morning sun on his deck. He invited me to join him and then told me to sit, showing me an extra-large chaise. He went to the kitchen and came out with a pitcher of Mimosas. They looked so refreshing, I accepted by saying I shouldn't. I was stretched out on the chaise, still in my suit and tie, and he sat next to me. He asked me how I enjoyed last night, and I told him my wife really enjoyed it and couldn't wait for an encore. "Oh, I know she enjoyed it, but what about you?" I told him I was very turned on all night and I had surprised myself. I told him it was the first time I had been in the same room with another man having sex. "Does that mean you've never had sex with another man?" I told him no, and then he reached over and kissed me on the lips. This was so strange, I felt his unshaved face scratch my chin, and his lips were not soft, like my wife's, but firm. He pushed his tongue in my mouth, and I accepted it with a hunger. I put my hands on his chest and searched for the nipple hidden in his fur. He broke our kiss and guided my lips to his nipple, and I slowly traced my tongue down the trail of hair on his chest down to his flat stomach. He pushed me lower, I got on my knees between his legs, and as he lifted his ass, I pulled off his trunks. Just like that, there it was, I held his cock in my hand, stroking it. I kissed the tip and licked underneath all the way to his balls, and then it was in my mouth. I sucked, licked, and tried to swallow it whole, but I couldn't get it down. "Can you still taste your wife on me? I haven't even bathed since last night." Why yes, I think I could still taste some of my wife's cream on him, and that only excited me more. I worked on opening my throat up, I wanted all of him, and then my nose was deep in his pubic hair. I could smell Sue's scent still in his hair, further adding to my excitement. All of a sudden, he began to cum down my throat. I licked him clean, enjoying the taste of his sperm, and I found myself wanting more. He said, "Let's go take a shower," I said I had to go back to work. He took my hand, led me to his bathroom, and told me to call in that I was going to be busy all afternoon. In the shower, we washed each other and washed each other's hair. He held me close as the water poured down on us, "I'm going to take your wife's other cherry tonight, but I think I should take yours first." I just nodded my head, and then he leaned down and kissed me again. We dried off and went to his bedroom, naked and both of us erect. He had me lay on my back, saying he wanted to look into my eyes as he took me. He showed me how to hold my legs up to expose my back end. He was forceful but not brutal as he took me, and as he was ready to cum, he held my dick and instructed me to cum with him. I shot off on my belly as he filled my bowels. That night, we said nothing of our afternoon adventure.As Shawn took my wife's last cherry, as he called it, he had me sit at the foot of the bed with my head under her and between her legs, pleasuring her pussy as he filled her back door with his cock. The whole time, I could feel his balls on my chin, and I caressed them while he took his pleasure from my wife. I could feel his release building up inside them, and took a perverse delight in knowing before her when he was ready to climax. When he withdrew, I cleaned him with pleasure as my wife watched from between her legs. I then cleaned my wife's rectum, slurping out his creamy nectar as it leaked from her bum. That was the last night we all made love together, as I was just too jealous. Not of Shawn, but of Sue - it hurt me to see her pleasuring him. Therefore, she would go to him when he would allow, and I would spend every afternoon I could away from my job to be with him. Of course, Shawn was a player, not a lover, and he soon grew tired of us both and left us in his wake. My wife was devastated, yet I could only think that she could get laid anywhere. I mean, my wife was young and attractive, and men always noticed her, but what about me? Where would I ever be able to replace Shawn? Where would I ever meet a man? I knew nothing about meeting men. I just know I will end up a lonely hetero. Sue and I are still together, living as we once did, but now we both realize it is a life of quiet desperation. I've never had the nerve to tell her about Shawn and me, and she never talks of him, I think because she doesn't want to hurt me. If you ask if I'm sorry it ever happened, I can only say it was the greatest time of my life. I can honestly say that even if it never happens again, I will still die a better man because of my short time with Shawn and the memories he gave me.	null	null	Authors/Bakeboss/An Affair to Remember.txt
84,962	Rubi du Soleil Levant	Awakenings	You began the first "session" with a short period of breath control play, tightening the noose and caressing my pussy slowly with Your fingers, Your tongue tickling my nipples. As the movements became quicker, You tightened the noose and stopped teasing my body, then moved back to watch me struggle. I watched You through heavy lids, realizing that You were more excited by my helplessness, by my dance with Death, than by the act of using my body, and this excited me even more, made me want You even more. I watched Your face, watched how Your eyes took in all the desperate struggles of my body for oxygen, and I glanced down to see Your cock stiffening even more, and my desire to have it inside me increased my body's struggles. I drove my hips forward, desperately trying to catch one small touch of Your cock against my body. I felt my eyes begin to turn back in my head, and You loosened the noose, just long enough to drive the impending blackness back a bit. My eyes widened as You moved up my body until Your cock was before my face and You thrust it deep into my throat. Leaning back, Your right hand holding tight to the rope and cutting off my oxygen once again, You caressed my clitoris with Your thumb while Your fingers pumped my cunt. Just as we reached mutual climax, as my body jerked with multiple orgasms, I felt the blackness descend upon me and my body fell back onto the bed. I awoke and began coughing, but no sooner did the sound escape my lips than the noose tightened once again around my throat and You thrust Your cock deep into my cunt. You rode me then, rode me until You were spent, Your cum flooding my vagina, and removed Your flaccid penis from between my legs. Looking into my eyes, You realized that I had left You, that in Your fevered race for ecstasy, You had held too long and too tightly to the rope and strangled the life from Your lover. You puzzled over this, took in the sight of me - my unseeing eyes, my lips slightly parted, my body unmoving; how strange and yet sensuous the absence of rising and falling breast. Your cum oozed silently from the slit between my legs. You leaned close to my face, gazed deeply into my empty eyes, then pressed Your ear against my lips. No breath touched Your face. You laid me gently on the bed, my unseeing eyes gazing up at the ceiling, my body still. My silent form serene on the silken coverlet caused You to become hard once again. No lover had ever gone this far for You, and it excited You to no end that You had found one who would. Straddling my head, You pressed Your palms down on my chest and searched for the spot You needed to pump to revive me. With the first compression of Your hands upon my breast, You thrust Your penis into my throat and synchronized Your resuscitative pumps with the thrust of Your cock in my mouth, thrusting, thrusting, faster, faster and when You felt my body arch up from the bed as I returned to life, You climaxed, Your cum spewing deep into my throat. You heard me choking on Your cock and quickly removed it from my mouth, gently moving me to the edge of the bed, where I lay coughing and choking, taking in great gasps of air and grasping at Your strong forearms. My eyes wide, I gazed up at You and asked in a rasping voice, "Was I dead?" You nodded and smoothed my hair from my face, then leaned forward to kiss my smiling lips. I had died for You and I had done it willingly and with complete and utter trust.	null	Part 2 of 11	Authors/rubi/Awakenings/Awakenings02.txt
85,057	Zorlond	Survival of the Excellent	Year ?, Month ?, Day ? Warmth. Snug. Red. Buzzing. Meanings without words to define them. Sleep. Squirm. Touch. Murmurs. Press. Shift. A spot depresses. Again. Again. Many times. Louder murmurs. Tremors. Touch. More tremors. Good. Sleep. Again. Many. Warm. Buzzing. Press. Squirm. Tremors. Touch. Tremors. Sleep. Again. Many. Wake. Different. Normal, but strange. Red. Motion. Murmurs. Same. Strange? Brush. Tremors. Depressions. Tremors. A shape passes. Thin. Round. Reshaping. White. Touch. Good. Snug. More. Surrounded. Good. More snug. Tremors. Murmurs. Many. Tight. Squirm. Tighter. Twist. Hole. Tremors everywhere. Murmurs. Push. Squirm. Twist. Tremors. Shove. Release. Stick. Splatter. Twist. Pop. Rush. Bright! Loud! Cold! Heavy! Shapes swim around. Touch. Grip. Lift. Place. Soft. Warm. Face. Eyes. Connection. "Oh, he's beautiful." Sounds without meaning, from a shape barely known. But comforting. Good. "Hello, little one." Shape goes low, touches, grips, strokes. Good. Very good. Small noise. "Ooh, you like that, huh? I wish I could make you feel as good as you made mommy feel. You'll have to wait a while for that. What do you think, Rob?" Another shape, further away. Big, but smaller. "That's amazing, mom. I've never seen it happen so close." Reaches for the large shape. "One moment, it's in here, next, you're cumming your brains out and it just slides right out of your pussy." "He, Rob, not 'it'." The large shape shifted, a big softness moved position. "Here ya go." A nub. Body moves, acts without direction. Envelop. Suckle. Warm flow. Good. A soft moan. Very good. Smaller shape moved, touching. "That was so amazing, mom. Do it again?" A chuckle. "I can only do it once per pregnancy, hon." "Alright." Shape climbed up, got closer. "Then let's get you pregnant again, mom." A squelch. Moan. "Eager to see my belly full again, are you?" A nodding moan. Wet smack. Thumping. "I'd love to do it again, too. Go ahead, son. Cum inside me again. I might not get knocked up right away, but who knows? Maybe I will." Enthusiastic moans. Shifting, back and forth. "Hmm," Another shape. Large. Looming. Touching. "Are you sure this is a 'he'? The torso looks a little odd." "Ugh. I think I know what a dick looks like, sis. A little gentler, Rob." Eyes rolled. "Obviously. Let me just.. May I?" "Sure." Grip. Lift. Hold nub! Want warm flow! Stop pulling! "Not too far, he's hungry. Ooh. Feels so nice." "Sorry." Shift. Touch. "Ah." Probe. Good. Very Good. Small noise. "Uh, was that..?" Remove. "Yep. Tip-deep. Boy And Girl." "You mean, like Elda Pat?" "Yes, Rob. Just like her." Quiet. Still. Finally, motion. Large moves away. Returns. Holding things. Scratching. "On the 32nd day of the 27th month, year 50, Katherine, daughter of Heather, gave birth to..." Silence. "Sam." "...Sam, futanari. Bright blonde hair and eyes of intense blue." Year 52, Month 12, Day 8 Sam opened her blue eyes. It was dark, hot, and muggy. A glance towards the window confirmed that the sun wasn't up yet. And yet, the room was already making her sweat. The thin sheet that was the only covering had already been kicked aside sometime in the night, as her sleeping body automatically tried to reduce the discomfort. Sam grunted, rolled over, tried to go back to sleep. But sleep eluded her. Her brain was awake, which meant it was active, and already throwing around thoughts that ricocheted off the inside of her head. Mentally too noisy to sleep again, Sam begrudgingly opened her eyes. Right there in front of her was her brother, Rob, face to face, still asleep. Sam was immediately jealous. Tipping her head up a bit, Sam could see Mom just past Rob, on her back, great tits speckled with sweat, rising and falling slowly right above the great swell of her belly. Sam knew that within her mother's stretched-out stomach, a new little brother or sister was taking form, expanding Mom's tummy in a way that made her pussy give little squirts of pleasure through the day. The skin of her belly shifted its profile subtly, and a soft, pleasant sigh slipped from Mom's full lips, her hips twitching, the smell of her pregnant cunt briefly spiking over the general scent of sweat. But, she didn't wake. Lucky her. Outside, the buzzing of insects started warming up for their morning performance, and the irregular susurration just added to the mental disruption. Since the world seemed to be conspiring against Sam going back to sleep, she decided to be awake. And, since she was awake, well... Sam looked up and down her brother's sleeping form, a smile curling her lips. Like their mother, Sam and Rob took to sleeping naked these hot nights, and with the covering sheet discarded, Sam could see all of her brother's adolescent form. Forming muscles could be noticed on his somewhat tall frame, giving him the start of a lean, rippled look. Well, lean other than the fat tube of flesh sticking out of his crotch, turned in a lazy curl on the bed, beefy nuts hanging loose right behind it. Smiling impishly, the little girl, relatively recently aware of her own existence, slid down the sweat-soaked furs. Coming close to her target, her little hands wrapped around the sleeping cock, or as much of it as her tiny fingers could reach, stroking it softly. Sensing contact, a slight throb began within the flesh, a slow thump that began straightening out his dick. Sam glanced up at her brother's face, then back to his cock, still going slowly. It wasn't until it was close to full that she added her tongue, slipping out to curl almost fully around his thickness and probe at the crevices around the cockhead. Rob made a small noise, a pleased sigh. Sam paused, letting him settle, before resuming. When her brother's cock had reached full hardness, four subrods long, but thick as a grown man's wrist, Sam took a deep breath, pulled her lips open as wide as they could go, then pushed her face forward. Into her mouth Rob's dick went, pushing her lips out just a little further, touching the back of her throat before pushing onward and downward. She could feel it inside her neck, a stiff mass that pressed against her squeezing throat nicely. She could feel each thump of his heart nudging outwards against her lips, her tongue, and all the way down her throat, so alive and warm. Pushing in as far as she could go, she eased back, took a fresh breath, and sank forward again. Again and again, a slow deepthroat of her brother's dick, drool wrapping around him, marking her depth with wetness. It wasn't as far as she would have liked, only about halfway. But she would keep trying. As she approached her previous best, Sam took a moment to push, eyes clenched with focus, trying to will her throat to give way just a bit more, and she could feel just a tiny bit of it squeeze in further... "Ahem." Sam's blue eyes blinked open, turning upwards. A smiling face of Rob looked down his body at his little sister trying to suck him off while he was asleep. "Oof... Sorry." Sam mumbled around his dick. She eased back, the edge of his dick's head skidding along the inside of her throat as it left her. As the cock head slid past her little teeth, a glob of drool skidded down her cheek and onto the bed. Just one more stain among very, very many. "It's okay, Sam," Rob said, gently tugging her up the bed to look her in the eye. "But I'd really prefer you woke me up first. If anything, I'd like to help you along." His hand slipped across her body, taking hold of her little boob, just big enough to fill his hand nicely. Sam hummed pleasantly at the touch, raising her chin in anticipation of his approaching lips. Her tongue flickered out to meet his, eager, if unskilled. He took her wild abandon in kissing with stride, putting slow licks along the inside of her cheeks before tangling with her slippery tongue. A prod at his hip alerted Rob to the effect this was having on his little sister. She still had trouble focusing on one or the other, resulting in both sets of genitals responding at the same time. Gently breaking off the kiss, Rob softly said, "Roll over?" Knowing what was coming, Sam eagerly rolled over onto her other side, stiff cock flipping through the air to slap heavily on the bed. She was barely half the size of her brother, even at only a third his age. Still, Rob was interested in the other half of her equipment. From their new position, Rob's hips approached his little sister's. Smiling widely, she lifted her leg, letting his cock in to press against her little pussy.And then it sank in, edges of cock head skidding along her inner flesh so deliciously. Sam moaned loudly as she felt her brother's thick cock stretching her pussy so very wide. As much as she enjoyed giving head, this felt so much better. Hard cylinder against yielding flesh, touching her innermost core. Especially as Rob wrapped his arms around her to grasp her little boobie again, finger and thumb tweaking at the nipple, while his other hand stroked her belly, stretching outward around his impaling cock. And then he'd begin to thrust, sliding in and out so nicely. As siblings fucked to greet the dawn, big brother licking and nibbling at little sister's ear as she moaned in time with his hips, her own cock bobbing hard in the hot air, growing hotter as the pair exerted themselves, calling forth sweat from both of their bodies. They took on a glistening, shimmering appearance as they slid wetly against each other. Rob's hand went up to slip a finger into Sam's mouth, and she tasted the salt of her sweat on it, moaning as her tongue slipped out again to lap at his knuckles. "A-hem." Siblings paused as they glanced over their shoulders. On her side and propped up on one arm, Mom looked down at them, smirking. Her large, gravid belly sat on the bed, belly button sticking out at them. Over their mumbled apologies for waking her up, Mom said, "Alright, alright, you're forgiven. Just roll over. Morning cravings." Knowing exactly what she meant, Rob rolled onto his back, taking Sam with him without trouble. Her sweat-soaked back sliding against him, her cock waved, hard and upright, into the air. Without anything more, Mom slid over and hungrily reached for her daughter's stiff cock, opening her plush lips wide to take it all in one big gulp, a hand gently cupping her daughter's lightly buzzing balls. Getting it coming and going, Sam's entire body stiffened under the assault of sensation. Her brother fucking his beefy cock up into her tight pussy, her own cock sunk hilt-deep within the warm and flexible throat of her mother, Sam jerked a bit before the jerks became the familiar spasms of orgasm, both genitals firing at once. Mom hummed into the spitting cock spewing young dick cream into her stomach, Rob moaning as his cock and balls were instantly soaked with pussy juice, his own cock firing off in response to pump great blobs of semen into tiny pussy, her belly rounding out around the increasing liquid in her little body before the flow out of her little cunnie turned into a mixed flow of sibling spunk. Overall, this uncomfortably hot pre-dawn morning turned out pretty good. Year 52, Month 17, Day 14 Sam moaned softly as she pushed her hips forward, hard cock sinking slowly into the hot cunnie of the dark-haired girl lying down under her. Their bared boobies rubbed against each other, hardened nipples slipping and catching as Sam eased her hips back again. Sam felt her nuts hum with life as her orgasm approached, pushing forward again to start it hilt-deep. The girl, perhaps sensing what was coming, wrapped her legs around Sam's waist and pulled her in. "So good, Aunt Cass, ugh!" Sam grunted as her cock began firing, thick cream blasting deeply into the girl's womb. Cass moaned loudly as she felt the hot flow within her, pussy clenching and sucking at the long, thick cock within it. Soon, mixed juices squirted and leaked around their co-joined flesh to soak the dirt under them. Wet squelches and squirts filled the air as little hips parted and met again, dueling with their gasping moans for the attention of ears. Around them, other villagers went about their lives, most taking only passing notice of the two pre-adolescents openly and heavily mating. Cass was actually a couple months younger than Sam, but definitely her aunt, the youngest child of Sam's grandmother Heather. The two had struck up a friendship, fostered by being neighbors in a village with no other kids quite their age. Naturally, they ended up having sex a lot, in between chores and their lessons. In Sam's mind, her image of Cass shifted, belly ballooning outwards, so big as to threaten to overwhelm her little body, as instinct grasped at the possibility of pumping her young aunt full of baby. Oh, that would be wonderful, to give her best friend a little girl or boy, squirming around inside her taut, sexy belly and giving her such pleasure all day. The image drove Sam to new heights of orgasm, cock continuing to spunk hard and deep, hoping to make the image true. Sure, Mom had said they were probably far too young, when Sam had mentioned it. But still, Sam would have loved to knock Aunt Cass up. The only way it could be better would be if Sam were knocked up as well, sharing their first pregnancies together, two bellies stretching outward side by side for all to see and enjoy. As their fluids created a not insubstantial mud puddle underneath them, splattering wide with every thrust of Sam's spitting cock, Sam glanced off to one side, towards the lake, and where a couple small boats were coming in towards the dock. Sam moaned again, this time with annoyance. Looking down to Cass, hips still thrusting in steady pace as her cock continued to pump fertile seed, she said, "Gramma's coming in." Sam focused a little, trying to wrap up her orgasm a bit early. Cass groaned. "Can't we just fuck more?" Her ankles twined behind Sam, determined to hold on. "You remember what happened when we were late last time?" Sam asked. "I don't wanna scrub down the boats again." Cass, not responding, unsecured her ankles and let her legs fall free. Sam eased her cock out, coming loose with a little pop and a final jet of semen from her dick, tracing a wandering line of white up Cass and onto her boobies. She stood up and quickly re-adjusted her shirt and long skirt to cover herself, although her shirt was getting rather small these days, and hung a few inches above her waistband, showing off tender belly skin. Cass got up as well, but more reluctantly, brushing a bit of dirt from her naked ass before settling her skirt into place to cover her cunt, and the twin flows of off-white down both thighs. "Maybe we can ask Mom for some fucking. She's been out on the lake all morning..." "I don't think so," Sam stated. She held up a quiet hand, pointing towards the approaching boat. At the front of the three-person boat sat Heather, but even at this distance, Sam could tell something was wrong. She looked... grumpy. And did she change her hair? No, it was wet. Why was her hair wet? "Come on," Sam took Cass' hand, and the two jogged down to the dock just as the boat pulled in. "...drop it, okay?" Sam heard as she approached. The speaker was Joe, one of the other two on the boat, chestnut hair and lean of build, and, Sam knew, a wonderfully thick cock, a tasty fleshy log she'd spent several a lazy afternoon licking up and down. Closer now, Sam could see all three of them were soaking wet, hair dripping down faces and backs. "I can drop it, sure," said Linda, a short-haired blonde who was just shy of six years, not quite fully adult. "As long as it's clear it wasn't my fault!" "So you want it to be my fault, then?" Heather shot over her shoulder. "Just get us to the dock." The last was shot back to Joe, as he paddled the boat along. "Well you're the one who capsized us!" Linda shouted. "Pardon me if I didn't expect your elbow to come flying at my face!" Heather shot back. Reaching out, she grabbed the edge of the wooden dock as it came close and pulled the boat into place alongside it. Sam and Cass slowed down, feet just on the landward end of the dock. From here, Sam could see the purplish bruise forming around Heather's left eye. "Meanwhile most of our gear and the day's catch is at the bottom of the lake! Who should I..?" "Stop!" Joe declared loudly. "Just stop. Both of you. More yelling isn't going to make this day any better." After a moment to see if the argument was going to flare up again, Joe stood up and stepped on the dock to start securing the boat. The two women settled down, though Sam could see the resentment flickering across their faces. As the boat was secured, Heather climbed out of it and came down the dock to where the two little girls stood. Sam tried not to think about her grandmother's large and heavy breasts, her top near transparent with dripping water, or how tight her pussy would feel on Sam's dick. This was their time to learn. And Heather took it seri... wait, something was a little off. Sam's gaze went over Heather's curvaceous form once again, quickly. Then she realized, Heather's breasts, they weren't drawing quite as much attention. Where was her necklace? Before Sam could think further, Heather stopped before them. She looked down and declared, "Alright, you two. The plan was to show you how to mend nets, but seeing as how we don't have any right now, go get some bailers and get all the water out of the boat." Raising an arm, she indicated the small equipment shed a few steps from the end of the dock. With that, she stormed off towards her house, probably to change. Sam and Cass set about their assigned chore, using small leather pouches to scoop up water from the half-drowned boat and toss it back into the lake. Sam would have preferred to work with nets, but then... Looking up from her seat in the moored boat, Sam looked at Joe, who was sitting on the end of the dock, watching the lake, and occasionally making sure the two girls kept working. After a bit of thought, Sam quietly asked him, "Joe, what happened out there?" Joe looked her way, an eyebrow rising slightly at the question. After a moment, he shrugged. "A misunderstanding."Looking back to the horizon, he added, after a few moments, "We were fishing out there, nets in the water, waiting for a decent tug to start hauling in a catch. It takes a lot of time. We were starting to feel the urge to have sex, and Heather told us to go ahead while she kept an eye on the nets. So Linda was riding me, hot and heavy, just how I like it, her back to Heather. And then, right in the middle of our orgasm, the fish start tugging on the nets. Only, Linda didn't notice, she just kept on going up and down on my cock, orgasming the whole time." Joe paused, considering. "To be fair, I wasn't paying that much attention to the fish either. You know how it is, Sam, a big pair of breasts in your face, and a belly that wants your spunk. And I was in the middle of cumming into Linda as well. So Heather grabs the nets, tries to haul them in. Only it's too much for one person. She struggles for a bit, then grabs for Linda's arm. She was probably just trying to get our attention. Only, Linda twisted around, hard, her elbow ended up in Heather's face. Heather slammed into the side of the boat, which, added with the fish pulling, rocked the boat hard enough that we just went right over." Joe sighed. "All the gear, the nets, the few fish we'd gotten already, and the three of us, right into the lake. It was all we could do to get the boat upright and get back in. And then it was a shouting match the whole way back." Sam considered that for a while, the regular splashing of two small bailers keeping rhythm, until she asked, "What about Grandma's necklace?" Joe shrugged. "Bottom of the lake, most likely." Sam was about to ask more when a disturbance caught her attention, talking and murmuring off a ways. When she looked over towards the sounds, she saw several of the villagers crowding around something near the furthest house. "What's going on?" Cass asked, when she noticed Sam's attention and turned to look. Joe frowned a little. "Not sure. I'll go check real quick, you kids keep going." Securing that command with a finger jabbed at the soggy boat, he stood up and walked off towards the disturbance. With little else to do, Sam and Cass returned to mucking out the boat, only occasionally glancing over at the distant crowd. "Think it's Betty?" Sam asked, naming the village trader. "Maybe she brought back something nice?" Cass shook her head. "She hasn't left, yet. She was over last night talking with mom about what to take out. It takes all day to get it together, she wouldn't leave until tomorrow morning." More water was moved in silence for a moment before Cass asked, "Maybe something happened?" Sam shrugged. "Doesn't sound like it. Whatever it is, it..." Sam glanced up again, then cut herself off, shushing Cass and focusing again on her work. Joe was coming back. Walking up to them, his expression strange, he firmly stated, "Sam, you can stop now. Come with me." Sam blinked. "What? Why? Am I doing it wrong?" Joe shook his head. "No, just come with me. Cass, keep going." With nothing else said, Joe turned to go. Sharing a concerned glance with Cass, Sam got out of the boat and jogged to catch up with Joe. As he led her towards the muttering crowd, Sam's mind raced over what it could possibly be that needed her. As the crowd parted to let the two of them pass, Sam found herself in an open space around two figures. One was Sam's Mom, talking with the other, a figure wearing a hooded leather cape, her back towards Sam. As she approached, Sam couldn't help but feel the tension in the air. Once they were close enough, Joe told them, "Here she is. Sam, daughter of Katherine." Indicating the little girl, he then stepped back and to the crowd around them. "Well, well," the hooded figure said, as it turned around. Sam found herself looking up into large green eyes in a beautiful, feminine face. "At last we meet." She paused, before verbally backing up. "Well, actually..." Her arms came up to tap the side of her face, massive breasts squishing slightly under the light shirt she wore, conical nipples outlining briefly. "We've met once before. But you were so young at the time I doubt you'd remember." Sam tried to do a little curtsey, mindful of her manners, and sensing something was special about this stranger. "Yes, I'm Sam. And who are you?" "Honey," Mom interjected, indicating the strange woman beside her. As Mom spoke, the stranger lowered her hood, letting her long red hair out for all to see. "This is Elder Pat. She's come quite a ways to see you." "To see me?" Sam tried not to fidget. She'd heard Mom and Grandma Heather talk about Elder Pat, always with deference. Someone like this wanted to see little her? "Did I do something?" Pat chuckled softly, shaking her head. "It's not something you did, it's something you are." Smiling, Pat casually reached down to the long fabric hanging from the front of her curvaceous, womanly hips. Tugging it aside, she revealed a huge cock hanging loosely down towards her knees, with heavy nuts behind it. "Something that I am as well." Sam, eyes widening with comprehension, stared at Pat's exposed cock for a moment before looking back up to Elder Pat's face. Following suit, Sam tugged her own skirt aside, letting Pat see her own dick, hanging there from girlish hips below developing breasts. "I didn't know there was anyone else like me..." Pat let go of her skirt, letting it conceal her endowment again. "Hmm. A little odd, that..." After a moment, Sam let her skirt go as well. Mom spoke up, "Well, you're here so rarely, Elder, it doesn't come up. And we don't know of any other futas." Pat nodded. "That's because there aren't any others." Stepping forward, Pat sank to one knee, bringing herself down to Sam's level. "Little Sam, here, is the only other futa in the world." Sam stood there, fidgeting, as Pat slowly looked her over. "Tell me, Sam, what is your day like?" "My day?" Sam asked. When Pat nodded, Sam felt a little confused. She'd never tried talking about her life with a stranger before. "Well, I live with Mom, my brother Rob, and little sister Kimmie. When we wake up in the morning, we have sex a bit, eat some breakfast... or maybe eat some breakfast and then have sex a bit, or sometimes both at once..." "Yes, continue," Pat stated, her voice calm, yet enticing. Sam took a moment to wonder what it'd be like to have sex with her mouth... "Um, then I go meet Aunt Cass, and we have sex some, before morning lessons. Then it's lunch and sex before the fishing boats come in for the day, and it's afternoon lessons. Then I go home to do chores and have sex with my mom before dinner, and then I get to play and have sex for a bit before bedtime." Sam trailed off as she concluded a normal day for a very young excel, hoping it was enough for the Elder. Pat considered her words before asking, "And what does your Aunt Cass teach you during lessons?" "Oh, Aunt Cass is my age, it's usually Nancy teaching us." Pat nodded, taking the correction in stride. "She teaches us reading and writing, numbers and counting, plants and animals, stuff like that. But afternoons we learn about boats and fish, do jobs for the fishers. It was going to be net mending today, but..." Pat tilted her head, brow furrowing slightly. "Sam, what is the square root of nine?" Sam frowned. "Uh, what? What's a square root?" She glanced at her mom, who winced visibly. Not getting any hints there, Sam tried to find an answer. "Do you mean nard trees? Their roots are kinda square, I think..." Sam pointed to one that happened to be nearby, twisting trunk and jagged leaves, easy to spot among the straight threadleaf trees. Sam came to a stop as Pat turned her head around to look at Mom. Sam couldn't see Pat's expression, but she saw Mom's reaction. It reminded Sam of the time she'd skipped out on afternoon lessons and Heather had to come find her... She didn't think Mom could even be scared of someone. Before she could ask what was going on, Pat turned back around to Sam, her expression calm. "Excuse me, Sam. I need to talk to your mother for a bit. Please, return to your normal day." As she spoke, she rose back to her feet. Sam nodded, and turned to go. But she did so slowly, turning her head to try to listen as Pat walked back over to Mom. She heard the Elder ask, "What have you been teaching them?" but only got a few scraps of the answer. "...useful...never use...practical..." And then she was too far to hear. With little else to do, Sam returned to the dock. Much of that afternoon passed in whispered discussion with Cass about the Elder's arrival, and her interest in Sam. It wasn't until Sam went home for the evening that she found out more. Over dinner, wooden plates full of smoked fish and sliced banana, Sam looked up at Mom, sitting there with such a sad look on her face. "What is it, Mom?" she asked. As she did, across the table Rob looked up from his meal as well, wooden fork still in his mouth with its morsel partially delivered. Mom sighed softly, then looked up at Sam, smiling. And yet, it was a very odd sort of smile. "Elder Pat... has decided that you will go back with her to the main village, Sam." Looking back down at her own barely-touched meal, she added, "She feels it'd be better for you." "What?" Sam asked, feeling her insides sinking slowly. "What did I do..?" Mom quickly looked up again, holding up a halting hand. "No, honey, it's nothing you did. It's what I did... What this village has done. Elder Pat believes that we aren't teaching you the right things." Her face lowered again, her voice softening, "... that we can't teach you the right things." Picking up again, she continued, "She just wants to help you, Sam. And I agree." "But..." Sam tried to focus through the whirlwind of emotion. "But I live here!"Aunt Cass, and Rob, and Kimmie, and you too, Mom! We live here!" "Sam, honey," Mom reached out to set her hand on top of Sam's little hand. "It's alright. This will be good for you. And we're not going anywhere. We'll still be here when you get back. You'll just be away for a while, and eventually you can come back." As Sam soaked in her words, Mom leaned over to kiss her gently. "It's for the best. You'll see." When the morning came, Sam was at the village's edge, small pack full of spare clothes and a few mementos on her hip, her little cloak around her shoulders in case it rained on the way back. At that moment, that cloak was open as she bent over, Cass on hands and knees under Sam, her skirt tossed up to let Sam's hard dick thrust into Cass' tight pussy. As Sam fucked her young aunt, each pull back was matched by her brother, Rob, hunched over Sam and pushing his cock forward into Sam's own little kitty. Rob reached down to lift up Sam's shirt and massage her little boobies, tweaking her nipples so nice to go with the double fuck. Sam glanced to the side, mouth wide open with loud moaning, watching as Elder Pat was doing much the same with Mom and Joe, fucking both at the same time with cock and pussy. And also nearby, Trader Betty sat on the wheel of her cart, legs out wide as a couple other girls of the village ate her out. The entire scene was being watched by most of the village, who had turned out to see the Elder and Trader off. As Sam's body began to jerk, her dick thumping hot cream right into her best friend's belly, she felt Rob start to cum as well, his great brotherly cock doing its duty to try and get his little futa sister pregnant in front of the entire village. As Betty sprayed her pussy juice all over the girls before her, Pat and Joe joined in with the flow of breeding spunk. The area stank of sex as pussies filled and overflowed, a melange of fluids splattering the ground around them. Eventually, their needs satisfied for the time being, Sam made her final goodbyes to her family before Elder Pat insisted that they get going. Even so, Sam turned back to wave repeatedly, until the village was out of sight, with nothing but the whiteness dripping from her dick and out of her pussy to keep her warm. They walked in silence for hours, one foot in front of the other, the burbling river never out of sight as it meandered across the countryside. It wasn't until Pat called a break that Sam noticed how far they had come. Nothing looked familiar, and even the comfortable plume from the smokehouse' chimney could not be seen. The break was to fuck, of course, and Sam had her first experience in double-dicking a single pussy. Normally she and Rob traded off when they were fucking Mom, but Elder Pat took a seat on the ground and directed Betty to sit on her massive cock, then Sam to come in behind Betty and shove her dick into Betty's pussy as well. Sam felt her cock sliding along Pat's, feeling so small next to the fully-grown futanari, yet the warmth was so delicious, Betty's leaking pussy lubing up both cocks to let them slide so smoothly against each other. It wasn't long before all three of them were cumming full force, and Sam could feel Pat's balls twitching against her own, launching wave after wave into the trader's all-too-happy cunt. Even as she was pumping her young semen into Betty, spunk pouring out and all over her clenching nuts, Sam saw Pat reach around the woman between them and take firm hold of the back of Sam's head, pulling her in close. Pat's long tongue met Sam's, and, both still fucking and coming, the pair twined their tongues together, both wrapping completely around twice, in a wonderful open kiss. Sam was unpracticed, she knew, but Pat was so welcoming, so patient, it felt different from how Rob and Mom kissed her. Minutes later, as orgasms eventually faded, the kiss faded as well, leaving Sam softly gasping for air, her little hips spastically humping at Betty's ass even though her dick was done for now. As the adults nudged the child back and got to their feet, Pat casually struck up conversation. "So, how has it been so far?" Off of Sam's look, she added, "Being away from your family." Sam considered that, as Betty picked up the handles of her trading cart and set to walking again, Sam and Pat falling in step beside her. "It's okay, I guess. I kinda miss them, but I also kinda want to see the main village, too. So... alright?" She shrugged. Pat smiled. "It's bound to be a little uncertain. Being taken to a new place, seeing new people, new land... Equal parts thrilling and scary." Sam considered her words, little feet plodding along in silence for a bit. There was some value there, but... "Elder Pat?" When Pat's eyes turned to Sam's again, she carefully continued, "Why am I going to this new place?" Pat's brow furrowed slightly. "Surely your mother told you..?" Sam shrugged, "She just said you thought she couldn't teach me right." Pat's face relaxed, and she slowly nodded. "You were being taught practical things. How to fish, take care of tools, how to hunt and gather... That's all good, but your other studies were at the most basic. How to read and write, and only basic arithmetic. You need more than that. It's very important that you learn much more." Pat sighed, turning her face away. "To be honest, if I could, I'd ask to bring every child in that village with us. But we just couldn't handle that, there's too many." "But why?" Pat's eyes scrunched closed, focusing on answering. "Sam, I hope you'll eventually understand one day, but the truth is, we're losing knowledge. I know so many things, things that could truly help all of our people. But explaining how and why would take years, even decades, not to mention that much of it cannot be immediately used. We do not have the materials or methods to actually put those bits of knowledge to any use." Pat's eyes opened again, looking to Sam, firmly, yet with a deep sadness lingering behind her eyes. "Practical knowledge of things we can do today, or tomorrow, or next year, is fine. But the things I know would help our people for centuries to come. I need to know that at least some of my knowledge will survive that long." "You want me to know what you know?" Sam quietly asked. Pat's lips curled in a gentle smile. "Not everything. And certainly not right away. That'd be asking a lot of you. But, tell me, Sam... If you could know and share things that would help your family, your friends, and everyone around you, not just for today, or tomorrow, but for every day and year to come in your entire life... Would you?" They walked in silence as Sam mulled over that question slowly in her head, but only for a few moments as Pat added, "Don't answer right away. It's a big question. Think it over, now and then. Anyways, maybe you could try sharing some of what you know with me? You said you were learning to mend nets yesterday?" Sam glanced at Pat as the new question came. "Huh? Oh..." Sam shook her head as she shuffled the big question she'd just been asked to one side. "Well, we were gonna, but we didn't get to it. Had to drain water from one of the boats instead." Pat frowned. "What? Why would you do that instead?" Sam shrugged. "Something happened out on the lake. Joe said that they capsized, and Grandma Heather lost her necklace. She was angry when they pulled in. Something about a misunderstanding. Well, Joe called it that. I'm not sure what... Elder?" Sam looked beside her as she walked along, and then stopped and turned as she realized Pat was no longer there. Pat had stopped in her tracks, her gaze intent on some distant thought. Her lips were moving slightly, as if she were muttering to herself. As Betty's cart came to a halt when she, too, realized something was up, Pat quickly stepped forward, her tone changing. "Betty, take Sam to the village, take her to Christine, and tell Christine to care for Sam until I get back." Hands coming down, Pat swept Sam up under her shoulders to lift her up and over to a firm seat on the cart. "If I'm not back tomorrow, I'll only be gone a few days." "Elder?" Betty asked, visibly concerned. "Just take Sam there, I need to go back, now." Focusing on Sam again, Pat told her, "Christine will take care of you, she's a gentle soul. I won't be long. I hope." Setting a gentle hand on Sam's shoulder for a moment, Pat gazed into her eyes before turning, and, her cloak billowing behind her, began to hurry back down the way they had just came. Sam and Betty watched her go, until Betty turned and started walking again, her cart full of goods just a little heavier. Sam held onto her seat, wondering at the new life ahead of her, the old life behind her, and a very big question...	null	Chapter 08	Authors/Zorlond/Survival of the Excellent/SotE - Chapter 08.txt
85,060	Zorlond	Survival of the Excellent	Year 12, Month 2, Day 1 "So, you're saying we're at our limits?" Christine could hear the question over her shoulder as she reached up to the calendar to move the day peg from the 34th hole to its neighbor, then move the month peg a step along as well. Turning, she leaned against the wall where she was, crossing her arms under her breasts, shirt tightening with the movement to accentuate her nipples, watching the four other adult excels sitting at the table. Karen, raven hair falling down the side of her face like a dark waterfall flowing over the shirt-covered curve of her heavy breasts, was speaking. "We just can't reproduce anymore?" Pat, seated at the head of the table, shook her head. "Right result, wrong origin. We're at the limits of what this location can sustain." She gestured towards the bed, where two small forms were enjoying each other vigorously. Both young girls, one a little more than three years in age, the other still under a year old. "We might have been able to reduce proximity stress by building your new house last year," Pat said, even as the younger girl squealed in joy at the elder's tonguing. Christine stepped away from the wall and over to the bed, gently touching the head of the older girl to get her attention for a moment. "A little quieter, Sandy." The little girl nodded, her tongue still deep within the other girl's pussy, and mumbled something that sounded like 'okay, momma'. Sandy noticeably slowed her assault, and the younger girl's voice was reduced from squeals of delight to pleasant moans. Ian set his elbows on the table, thick arms folding over bulging pecs, muscles speaking of long hours of toil. "The naner grove isn't expanding like I had hoped. I think the new field just doesn't have the right soil for naners." "And the mung?" Beth asked, as heads turned to Christine. Christine shrugged as the attention turned to her. "Doing well enough, but they don't reproduce that quickly. We can't just eat them without new calves to restock. We're too close to negligible herd growth as it is." Karen sighed, shaking her head. "Hunting has also been down. It's been getting harder to find anything in the forest. And what I do find is usually females with young." Left unspoken, all assembled knew the rule of leaving such prey unharmed. Pat raised her voice slightly to bring attention back to her. "I've already reviewed the numbers," she stated, tapping pointedly on a collection of threadleaf sheets in front of her, carefully sorted notes on each of them. "Unless we can add a new food source to our supply, then this is it. The seven of us is all that will be born." Glances traded around the table for a moment, until Beth broke the silence. "So, the plan is to find a new food source, I take it?" Pat chuckled inside, knowing that this topic would head there. The instincts of an excel were strong. "We'd have to go searching," Ian said, tapping the table before him as he spoke. "Each in a different direction. See what there is, bring something back, hope we can bring it here." "A walk alone in unknown territory. We'd have to go a day's walk out to really have a chance to find something new. Dangerous," Karen muttered. "Well, you should stay here, sis, to take care of the kids..." Beth told her, setting a hand on her sister's shoulder. "Excuse me?" Karen glared at Beth. "Why should I stay? I have much more experience out in the woods by myself than you do. Besides, little Mary is your daughter, you should be with her." Karen gestured to the little girls on the bed, now swapping positions so that the younger Mary could return the oral sex, as well as push most of her little arm up into Sandy's pussy. The fact that Beth had managed to get pregnant while Karen was still childless was a frequent sore point between the sisters. Pat overrode the impending row. "Neither of you should stay." As they quieted down and turned their attention to Pat, she continued. "If this is to be the plan, one person should stay, yes. But it should be Ian." "What? Why me?" Ian protested. "I can handle myself out there, Pat..." "Because of cocks," Pat stated. "There's only two cocks in here. And, like it or not, excels can't reproduce without at least one cock and one pussy. This trip will be dangerous. Either you or I must stay here. And can't ask you to go in my place." She gestured to the bed once again, where Mary was wetly slurping at the girl-cum now flowing around her arm, Sandy biting her lip to contain her groans of release. "If none of us come back, you will survive, and in time, new excels will be born." Ian considered her words before closing his eyes. "Fine." He clearly did not enjoy the decision, but couldn't argue with the logic of it. "So, it's decided, then? We go?" Christine asked. Pat nodded. "Yes. Today we get our gear together. Enough food and water to last a day or two, weapons, packs, and maps. I'll make copies of our map today. The rest of you just get your gear in order. We head out tomorrow, at first light." Year 12, Month 2, Day 2 As the light blue sun just began to peek up over the horizon, the small tribe of excels gathered in front of that first tiny house that Pat had built, these days a mere tool shed. Pat stood in the open doorway, thoughtfully touching the set of ink marks up the door frame. Had it been ten years? No, nine. Getting close to ten, though. It felt so long ago. And yet, sometimes it felt like yesterday. C. 22m. 1.15r. A little girl of wild blonde curls. "We're ready, Pat." The voice brought Pat out of her thoughts, as her eyes turned to those same blonde curls, longer and more tame these days, framing a determined expression. Behind her, two similarly determined women stood, each with packs and dart holsters across their backs, spear throwers hanging from their belts. To one side, Ian watched, arms folded, scowling, notably unburdened with gear. Next to him, Sandy and Mary stood watching. Pat nodded, stepping away from the shed door. "Alright. Remember, go out for half a day, no more than that." As she spoke, she handed each of them a rolled-up threadleaf map, painstakingly transcribed from the original copy Pat had made from that long-worthless hunk of plastic she'd arrived with. They slipped the maps into various pouches as she continued. "Deal with your needs only when you are positive it's safe. When the sun is at its highest, stop and find something that may be edible. Do Not Eat It." Pat's eyes hammered the words home. "If you need to eat, you've got some jerky to snack on, but don't eat anything else. Just gather some samples, enough for one meal, pack it up, and walk back here." "What do we do after we return?" Karen solemnly asked. "We'll sort that out once we're all back here." Pat stated. Left unsaid was the screaming words of 'what if we don't return?' Pat tried to push the words aside as she ducked into the shed, returning quickly. Holding up a sheathed steel knife in each hand, she considered the three. "Have you each decided which way you'll be going?" They nodded, each pointing off to the horizon, east, south, and west. Considering, Pat offered a knife each to Karen and Christine. Taking the weapons, they held the knives carefully, as Pat took up the climbing pick and offered it to Beth. Heading east, Beth was going upstream towards the mountains. She seemed the most likely to need the pick. "What about you?" Beth asked, not reaching for the offered tool. "Won't you need one?" Pat shook her head. "We don't have enough for four. You'll need this more than I will." Beth reluctantly accepted the climbing pick, testing its heft before hanging it from her generous hip. "I'll just have to manage." Pat ducked back into the tool shed, quickly returning with a stone axe they used to split firewood. It was the best of what remained available. Giving the assembly one last look, Pat nodded. "Stay safe, all of you." So decided, each of the four women took a moment to give Ian one last kiss, tongues twining wetly as hands flitted up and down backs. Pat originally intended to leave it at that, but as Karen's kiss seemed to keep going and going, Ian reached down to grab her ass with both hands. As Karen raised a knee to rub against Ian's side, Pat sighed and changed her mind. If nothing else, it would delay their needs a bit. Ian's cock was already rising, pushing his loincloth aside as it rose up to stick out between Karen's legs, its head well past her ass. He was a bit over a rod long, these days, and he had to break the kiss to crouch almost all the way down, getting his cock to point upwards, and rise up into Karen's pussy.So impaled, the pair resumed kissing, humping each other in a standing fuck. Ian took hold of her raised leg, his other hand gripping her muscled ass through her skirt, still in place even as it fluttered a little with their fucking motions. Sandy and Mary, always eager to help, snuck in between the adults' legs to help them out with fingers and tongues. Pat couldn't see what they were doing, but from how Ian and Karen were moaning, it was very welcome. Pat looked over to Christine, who was watching the scene with some interest. Slipping up behind her, Pat silently slipped her arms around her grown-up daughter, feeling so natural as her hands rubbed along Christine's toned belly. Looking over her shoulder, Christine smiled, setting a hand on Pat's wrist to steer her down lower, to grip Christine's pussy through the fabric of her skirt. Pat could feel her own cock rising. When it rose into view in front of Christine, she casually gripped it in both hands, not quite fully around Pat's cock as Christine slowly jacked her off. When Beth stepped in front of them, Christine's mouth opened in sync with Beth's, their tongues coming out to twirl around each other. Their massive tits, heaving against their tight tops, mashed together, puffy nipples pushing through the fabric to rub against each other. As Beth and Christine made out, Pat got her cock into Christine, hands gripping her curved hips as she fucked her from behind. Pat fucked her daughter, her first on this planet, as instincts cried out in the back of her head. 'Knock her up', the instincts said. 'Get her good and pregnant.' It felt so right and good. Pat would have fucked Christine full of baby right then and there. Beth and Karen too, even little Sandy and Mary. All of them, tummies far out before them, full of more baby excels to fuck. The image in her mind, of all of them ready to birth a new horny generation, set Pat off, thick ropes of semen rushing up into Christine's cunt, to be forced into her womb by the power of the fucking. As Christine came in kind, muffled by her kiss with Beth, Pat could see Christine grabbing at Beth's tits, trying to pass the pleasure along. About a minute into her orgasm, Pat suddenly reached out to grab Beth's waist, and in one quick move of her flexible hips, Pat's cock popped right out of Christine's pussy, still spraying cock juice from between Christine's legs, and right into Beth's pussy. Beth cried out in surprise as Pat's cock plowed right into her, still pumping white spunk. Christine, still straddling Pat's cock, pussy still streaming girl cum, rubbed herself along the top of Pat's cock, her juices slathering it and making Pat's fucking easier. Beth, speared on Pat's cock now covered in Christine's cum, began jerking and moaning as well, aided by Christine's continued efforts on her tits. Jets of milk sprayed from Beth's tits, through her top and all over Christine's hands and front. Pat kept right on fucking, even as her orgasm died down, only about half of her load inside each woman. Beth was cuming for some time, and Pat and Christine made sure she got a full cum out of it, even late as she was. When Beth was finally done, Pat backed out and let Christine out from the middle of the sandwich. Nearby, the rest of the tribe was patiently waiting and watching. Well, mostly waiting. Sandy seemed to be trying to get her mouth open wide enough to get Ian's cock head inside, apparently intent on sucking out the last few drops of his juice. Her lips could almost get there. Mary was idly licking herself, her entire face and front covered in white, mixed spunk slowly dripping from her barely-started boobies. As they all refocused themselves, a mere nod passed between them before the four women turned and began walking, each their own way. Pat's shoes tapped a heavy rhythm across the wood bridge built fully across the river as she started her trek north. Ahead of her was a lot of forest, and likely some hilly terrain. When she reached the edge of the woods before her, Pat looked back. Beth was just reaching the top of the falls, heaving herself up over the ridge with the aid of the climbing pick. On the far side, Christine faded into the brush. Downstream, Karen walked along, having snagged a walking stick to monitor the ground ahead of her. And between the four, Ian stood, watching. He turned Pat's way, and she held his gaze for a moment. And then, apparently convinced by Sandy that she needed some relief, Ian took hold of the girl's waist and heaved her up bodily to seat her on his still-dripping cock. Pat turned to go, confident that excels would survive, one way or another. Hours passed, and Pat walked, taking a break at one point to suck herself off. The woods grew denser, turning into what felt like old forest, the sky lost to green haze, the air heavy with the scent of plants. Pat stood on a high tree branch, poking her head up above the canopy, trying to place herself by the nearest mountains. Judging the distance, Pat unrolled her copy of the map, carefully holding on to the tree as she hastily scribbled down some terrain features she had seen below. If she found anything usable, they'd need the map extensions to find their way back. Looking up again at the sea of green around her, undulating in the wind, Pat put her map away and started to climb down. That's when she saw it. Something spread across the forest floor, a couple bushes away from her. Pausing to look at it for a moment, Pat glanced around to be sure it was clear of trouble, before continuing down to the ground. Slowly pushing her way through the brush, she easily found it again. It was a kill, a reptilian quadruped that the excels hadn't bothered to name yet. Pat had seen similar ones near the houses. Only this one had been dead a while, picked near-clean, just a few scraps of skin hanging onto scattered bones. Crouching to study the dirt around the remains, Pat saw tracks, unfamiliar to her, four-toed and clawed. Judging from the varying sizes, Pat guessed it was four, maybe five creatures, all at the same time. A family unit? Perhaps a hunting pack. Straightening up, Pat stepped away from the remains, looking around carefully, senses extending to every small rustle. Whatever made this kill didn't appear to be nearby, at least not at the moment. Still, Pat felt the need to not hang around. It was about the right time, in any case. So Pat began walking in a slow spiral, carefully looking around her at the plants and ground, searching for anything that might be edible and new. Eventually, she came to a small break in the forest, a spot where a great tree had collapsed, taking out a dozen smaller neighbors and ripping a hole in the canopy to the sky. Shading her eyes, Pats looked skyward, verifying that the sun was near peak before checking the area. One thing in particular that caught her eye was the trunk of the dead tree, around which was clustered a number of bushes. Dense with ovoid leaves, standing maybe 1.3 rods high, the bushes seemed to bathe in the sunlight the fallen tree had brought to the forest floor. Peeking out from between the leaves were spots of bright red. Nudging leaves aside, Pat looked at the semi-spherical red fruit, the largest of which was about a thumb's length across. Checking up and down, Pat found a few fruit that had been eaten straight from the bush, juice long since dried to reveal a seed-filled interior. Pat was familiar with the evolutionary strategy. Offering a bribe to herbivores, with the hope that seeds were swallowed and eventually dropped to the forest floor a significant distance away, conveniently fertilized. Deciding that this was as good a guess as any, Pat reached deep into the bush and grabbed hold of a branch, where it met the center. Breaking the branch cleanly away, Pat took the whole thing, fruit, leaves, and all. Collecting a couple more branches from different bushes, Pat put them away in her pack, and with one more slow inspection of the forest around her, began making her way back. It was approaching dusk when Pat finally found the tiny cluster of buildings again, shadows long, smoke curling from the chimneys. Out front, she could see Ian sitting on the log bench, whittling at a wooden shaft, making new darts. It felt good to be back home, even after only a day away. Her feet once again thumping lightly as she crossed the wooden bridge, Pat raised a hand to wave. "Hey, Ian," she called out. His head rose and broke into a wide smile. "Hey, Pat," he responded, standing up as he waved. "Glad to see you back." Pat walked up to him, smiling as well. "Glad to be back. Have the rest made it back yet?" "Beth and Christine are already inside, we're just waiting on Karen, now." As Pat stepped in close, Ian slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her close to kiss her, tongues tangling together. They kept it brief, merely a nice welcome rather than a prelude. "You found something, right?" he asked, as they separated. "Yeah, I found something. I'll show you once Karen's returned. Nobody's eaten anything yet, right?" Pat's brow furrowed with seriousness. Ian shook his head. "Not a thing." Ian's face suddenly focused on something in the distance, his face lighting up. Looking in the same direction, Pat saw the reason for his sudden joy. Karen, tromping up the river, hand holding a line of twine, tight against her shoulder. When Pat and Ian waved and called out greeting, Karen waved back a bit with the hand holding her walking stick, continuing over to them. "Hey, Karen." Ian's voice was slightly more pleased to see his sister than it had been for Pat. And then the breeze shifted. "Hey, Ian, Pat," Karen said as she came up to them. "Sorry about the smell. I didn't expect it to get this bad." Karen stepped up to Ian to give him a kiss.It was brief, but it seemed like Karen had expected it to be. Hanging down her back from the twine was a muddy-skinned creature, smooth in shape, with only a few small fins sticking out for locomotion. "I already cleaned it best as I could figure, but the smell doesn't seem to be getting any better," Karen said as she swung the fish around to display it. It was large, easily as big as Karen's entire torso, with wide fleshy lips and forward-facing eyes. Slit up the center of its belly, the worst of the smell seemed to emanate from within. Taking a moment to peek inside the dead fish, Pat braced herself against a short blast of foul air. It did seem to have been cleaned out thoroughly. Wherever the pungent aroma was coming from, it must be inherent in the fish itself. "Alright," Pat declared. "Let's get it inside. Maybe cooking it will help." Following words with action, Pat turned to enter the main house. "Hey, we're back," she declared to the room. As the three entered, a cry of welcoming broke out from those inside, a brief celebration of hunters returning. "Welcome back," Christine said from the bed, where little Sandy lay, Christine wrist-deep within her daughter's little pussy, already soaked halfway up her forearm with the little girl's joy. Beth's nose crinkled as she approached. "Whoa, what is that?" Karen smiled apologetically, offering the fish. "It's what I found. Sorry." Pat stepped forward and took her pack off, setting it down on the table. "Alright, let's get this started. Everyone bring up what you found." Once Christine had finished with Sandy, the four explorers put what they had found on the table. Next to Karen's stinky fish and Pat's branches of red fruit, Christine set down some kind of leafy clusters, oblong shapes sticking up around a central stalk maybe half a rod long. Beth's offerings were a sort of wedge of plant mass, rough in texture and ragged along the edge. Beth sighed as she set down the few wedges. "Sorry I couldn't find anything better. I had to pull out quickly." Pat looked at her with concern. "What happened?" Beth closed her eyes as her mind wandered back along the path she had walked. "I went up the hills towards the mountains, staying somewhat near the river. The trees are pretty sparse up there, not much cover except the occasional rock. Eventually, I crested a rise to find a predator. It was eating a dead mung, a fresh kill. It was absolutely enormous." "Can you describe it?" Karen asked. Beth shook her head. "I don't have to describe it." Without further explanation, she walked off for a moment and retrieved something from a corner, setting it down on the table with a heavy thunk. "I recognized its feet. You always told us you made this pail shortly after you got here, Pat." Beth said, looking right at her. "I think what I saw was another one. A crear." Pat looked down at the old pail, browned with age, but still recognizably made from the foot of a large reptilian creature. Her mind went back to that first day on this world, of a daring plan that could have gone so wrong a dozen ways, of the blood all over her hands as she ended the creature's life. Pat nodded. "If what you saw really was a crear, then I'm glad you're back here, safe and sound." "What was it doing?" Ian asked Beth. Beth shrugged. "Just eating. I didn't stick around. Pat wasn't kidding when she told us how big a crear is, how frightening. I headed back the way I came as fast as I could. It was only after a few hundred rods that I stopped to find something to bring back." She gestured down at the wedges in front of her. "This was all I could find, sticking out the sides of some rocks." Pat briefly picked up one of the plant masses. It was white and fibrous where it had been broken from the rock, densely spongy in texture. It seemed to her like some kind of fuzzy shelf fungus. Maybe good, maybe not. Just like all the other items on the table at that moment. Putting Beth's item back, Pat began to speak, telling the others of her own walk through the dense woods. Of the canopy so dense the world seemed to turn green, of the old kill she'd found and the tracks around it. She hadn't seen the creatures that made the tracks, but they did concern her. Pat described the break she'd found, and thus the bushes she had taken samples from. Karen took up the tale once Pat had finished. "Half a day downstream, the mud starts getting very wide. There's a wide open lake down that way, and it took me a while to find a safe way to cross the mud to check out the water. A cluster of rocks that seemed to fence in the mud. I could walk right up to the water's edge just past those rocks. That's where I found this big stinky guy." She patted the side of the fish on the table. "It seems to feed on the lake floor, big mouthfuls of muck at a time. I can't imagine how good it'll taste, but it's what I could find. Took a while to modify a dart to work right." She carefully took out one of her darts from her quiver, the tip of it now split into multiple long fronds, held apart by a tight cluster of twine between the tips. "The standard design will just fall out and let it wriggle away." Christine sighed, beginning her tale. "I wish I had something exciting to tell you. But the land I walked over was much the same as what we see around here. Gentle hills and clusters of woods. No river, though. I didn't see much of anything out that way, except these." She indicated the dense clusters on the table. "There's a patch of these things out that way, around the edges of a tree cluster, in the open sun. Mung had clearly snacked on them, but they seemed to grow regardless." "Mung eat just about anything," Karen stated. Christine shrugged. "It's what I found. And a mung eating it is at least something." The small tribe looked over the arrangement on the table for a moment more, before Christine spoke. "Okay, Pat. How do we do this?" All eyes turned to their eldest member for her word. Pat sighed, dreading what was about to come. "If we want to know if any of this is edible to us or not, we've only really got one option. We try some." Looking to each of their faces in turn, she continued. "This needs to be done carefully. We have no idea if our bodies can digest these things, let alone what other effects they might have on us. Sandy and Mary don't eat any of this, Ian should not eat any either. The four of us who went out and found these things, we will take the risk." Pat looked right to Ian, her eyes looking deeply, forcefully into his. "I'm not leaving you out of this entirely, Ian. You aren't going to eat any of it, but I want you to decide who eats what. One item to each person. And not the person who brought it here." Returning her gaze to the others, she continued. "That person is then free to do whatever preparation you think will work. And only eat a little bit, a few mouthfuls at most. You can have naners to fill out the meal, but don't eat too much. Do you all understand?" Nods all around the table, some concerned glances traded in reaction to how serious Pat was taking this. Pat sighed. If that tablet's battery had just hung in there, or if that recharger hadn't died... No, don't dwell on the past. This needed to be done. "Alright. Ian, go ahead." The rest stepped back from the table, leaving Ian staring down at the potential food items. He crossed his burly arms, staring at them as he slowly walked around the table. Silence reigned as he paused here and there to poke and prod, looking underneath the surface as if seeking answers within each offering. Did this leaf have something to say to him? What did the skin indicate? How did the firmness suggest to its composition? Eventually, Ian stopped pacing. Raising a hand, he slowly lowered it onto each food item in turn, declaring names one each one. "Christine," he said, fingers on the wedges. "Pat. Beth. Karen." The clusters, fish, and fruit branches were touched in turn. So declared, Ian stepped back from the table. Pat nodded. "Alright, let's get to work." Each woman took their food item to prepare. Beth sliced a rough fillet out of the fish and set it on the fireplace shelves to cook. Christine cut the fuzz off of a wedge before chopping the off-white interior finely to be mixed with some naner slices. Karen simply decided to eat the red fruit straight, pulling it from the branches to bite right into them. Pat poked around inside the clusters of leaves, trying to find something edible after trying a bit of leaf and finding it to taste rather like grass. She eventually found the core of the plant to be a fleshy dense mass around a cluster of wood-like seeds. Pat dug the seeds out and simply skinned and ate some of the fleshy part. Their meal was eaten in silence, even the children were quiet, instinctively noticing something serious was going on. The women were eating slowly, small bits of food at a time, carefully smelling and chewing each bite. Minutes crawled by as they tried to dissect the items with their tongues. After most of the meal was consumed, Pat spoke up. "So, impressions?" "Meh, not bad," Karen said, holding up one half-eaten fruit. "Not much flavor, but juicy." She popped the half-eaten fruit into her mouth to chew on. "Tastes like a mouthful of dirt," Beth groused, holding up a chunk of cooked fish on the end of a wooden fork. "Can't say I'm surprised, if all it eats is dirt. But I will say this," she added, as she stuck it in her mouth. "It tastes better than it smells." A brief laugh was shared around the table at that. "Can't be too hard." Pat thought for a moment before adding her report. "I think I won this round. Kinda sweet, little tart, smooth texture to it...Pat picked up one of the discarded seeds and tried to crunch it between her teeth. She immediately spit it out. "Seeds are really bitter, though, they're no good." Looking up, Pat spoke to Christine. "So, how's your meal?" "Eh," Christine started, setting her fork down, gathering her thoughts on the dish... "Probably really needle," Karen interrupted. Pat blinked, turning her head. "What?" "For hot crust sensation," Karen stated. She slowly blinked, looking down at the table and slowly shaking her head. "To the work done-half the work done body..." "Karen?" Pat stood up, reaching for Karen's arm. Karen yanked her arm away, glaring right into Pat's eyes. "People sour future! The for delivery part!" Her torso suddenly lurched right towards Pat, her arm going up over her head, which was grabbed by Ian. "What's going on with her?" Ian yelled as Karen started to violently struggle against him, Pat standing to quickly snag her other arm. The table rattled and shook as Karen's knees banged against the underside. "So loose te pags nd swet-ache!" "It must be a reaction to the fruit!" Pat yelled, over Karen's continuing gibberish. "Karen? Karen!" Pat forced her daughter's arm down against the table, holding it there with one hand while trying to bring Karen's face up towards hers. Wide open eyes, teeth clicking against each other, irises contracted down to pinpricks. Pat saw none of the strong, confident huntress in her daughter's eyes. Nothing but madness. Ian grunted as his feet scraped across the floor, Karen's arm forcefully dragging him along. "How do we stop it?" he growled with the effort to contain her spasming limbs. Deciding quickly, Pat stated, "We can't. Going to have to ride it out. Get her down on the floor!" Ian and Pat lifted Karen briefly by the arms as Pat threw the chair aside, lowering Karen down as carefully as they could. Nearby, Pat could see Beth taking Mary and Sandy aside, keeping them clear of the chaos. Once laid down on her side, Pat told Ian to let go as Pat kneeled behind her. Karen continued to jerk and flail, Pat's only restraint was to prevent her from banging into the nearest wall or rolling onto her back. "Get the table away," Pat ordered Ian. He quickly grabbed the edge in both hands, lifting it up on its end, uncaring as tableware and food cascaded to the floor. "All the furniture. Karen? Can you hear me?" "Anene avesss immprevabsst!" Karen shouted, eyes still unfocused and twitching in all directions. Her arms and legs, still jerking, waved in the air and smacked against the floor. "Christine? Christine? PAT!" Ian suddenly yelled. Pat looked up. Christine was still sitting in her chair. She wasn't moving.	null	Chapter 05	Authors/Zorlond/Survival of the Excellent/SotE - Chapter 05.txt
85,107	peterbeater	Chapter 9 Teen Age Pimp	You want to have a fun experience? Have someone surprise a girl who's sucking your dick. They are embarrassed and want to hide; the only place to hide is deeper in your crotch. Well, that's what Linda did, so her embarrassment also turned into her first deep-throat experience. After a couple of seconds of her gagging, I took pity and let off on the hold I had on her hair. Now she came up choking and sputtering, and embarrassed! I was really enjoying myself. I grabbed her chin and turned her towards Liz, "Linda, this is Liz, she works for us too. Liz, forgive Linda, she's just learning about whoring. You've got some time, take off your clothes and we'll run through some of the basics with her. She needs help with several of our basic fuck positions, including the ass, and she really needs help with her cock-sucking skills. In fact, for sure stay, this is a good time for her to learn about eating pussy." One of the many nice things about Liz is that you never have to ask her to take her clothes off twice. As Liz was getting undressed, I told Linda, "Where are your manners? Say hello." Linda had been fighting the hand that was holding her face towards Liz, but as Liz's sweater and bra came off, she stopped fighting me and got interested. I had to shake her head to wake her from her stare. "Oh, hi, nice to meet you." "It will be, honey," responded Liz as she stepped out of her panties. "I can help you with your cock-sucking and fucking technique, but ass-fucking, you learn from experience. Every time, it gets better, and when you cum, it is so different from a pussy cum, you'll really look forward to it." By now, I was lying on my side with my head propped up by my arm. I had grabbed Linda's hand and put it on my dick. She just let it sit there the way I had told her. Now Liz sat next to Linda and said, "Let's get to know each other, as long as we've got the same daddy, let's make him happy." With that, she leaned into Linda and gave her a big kiss, none of this tentative stuff for my fast Liz. I could feel Linda clench her hand on my dick, no doubt in response to Liz's tongue. Liz pulled back a little, "Never kissed a girl before? Not even in high school? Well, let me tell you something, every john loves watching girl-on-girl. But always remember, no matter if you're just going to cum, the guy is first. He grabs or taps you on the shoulder, move towards him at once. They love to believe they're the most important guy in your world. The more you can convince him of that, the bigger the tips are. When I first met Peter, I thought, 'What can a kid teach me about being a hooker?' Boy, was I wrong! When this daddy tells you jump, you say 'how high' because he has more insights into the whole prostitution business than you can ever imagine. I mean, the most I've ever worked in a week with him has been four days, and the most tricks I've turned in a day has been three, and I'm making a lot of money, an awful lot of money! Peter, what would you like, a quick fuck or you want to watch us 69?" "You two go ahead, we had a nice little fuck just before you came in." I slid over on the bed to give them more room. "OK, Linda, 69 is it. Lay down here, I'm going to make you cum a couple of times, then you'll follow me and do what I did to you until I cum. After you get that down pat, we'll 69 till we both cum." Whenever I see two gals or women doing each other, I watch closely. They know how to turn on another woman, and I have learned a lot from watching. For example, women are much softer with each other than guys are with women. I thought that the faster, harder you went on a clit, the happier they are. Not true! You watch women jilling off or doing each other, and they are softer and a lot slower. Me, I want to play a pussy like Krupa on a drumset. Women do each other more like Dave Brubeck's drummer with a set of brushes on the cymbals. Yet when I ask, they've told me both ways get them there, it's the soft and easy style that keeps them there longer. Now I was watching Linda lose another virginity, at least that's the way she was acting. Liz was leaning over her face, and they were necking, but Linda's hands were sort of waving in the air, she didn't know what to do with them. I helped out by taking one and wrapping it around Liz's neck. At last, Linda started to get with the program; the other hand started stroking Liz's hip. Now Liz moved down towards Linda's tits, and Linda didn't know where to look. When she saw me watching her, she threw an arm over her eyes. I took her arm away and placed it on Liz's head. "No, no, baby, you're a hooker now, no false pride, be proud of what you do, look at me, keep looking at me and give yourself to Liz, let her make you come. Remember what she is doing to make you feel good." By now, Liz had a nipple in her mouth and was softly sucking on it as her hand was gently cupping Linda's crotch. As I looked close, Liz was flexing her hand in that crotch, not hard, her knuckles would rise maybe a quarter of an inch as she slowly pulsed on this new-to-her pussy. Women are much more patient than men when it comes to lovemaking. I would have had two fingers inside of Linda in a second. Liz was smart enough to tease her with just that soft pulsing motion of her hand on Linda's crotch, at least patient enough to wait for Linda's legs to start moving. Her knees were moving slowly in and out, and then Liz slipped into her victim's pussy. Now I saw Linda's arm tighten around Liz's neck, she was really starting to feel it. In no time at all, Liz was down sucking on Linda's cunt as if it was the last water in the Sahara. Now Linda was close to losing control. I took one of her hands and put it on my dick. "There, baby, when you're holding daddy's dick, everything is all right. It is a good thing to have another girl lick your pussy. Come on now, eyes open, I want to watch you come on Liz's magic tongue." I really didn't need to see Linda's eyes as she came, she almost squeezed my dick off all three times that she came. But, it was fun watching her try to concentrate on me as her cunt was sending her into orbit. Pretty soon, Linda was saying, "Stop, no more, let's take a break, that's wonderful, please stop, oh, oh." The usual big O overload comments. Liz looked up and said, "Now remember, clit," followed by a lick, "deep inside," another dip, "outer lips," a more swipe. Liz pulled up and slid up in the bed so we had Linda sandwiched between us. She reached over Linda to grab my dick and met Linda's hand. "Well, OK, you can have him all just because you're new, but in the future, we share this!" With that, she snuggled spoon-fashion up to Linda, and I was looking at two smiling women, both over twice my age, both naked, both smiling at me. Liz's hand was cupping Linda's tit, and she had her head on top of Linda, so they were lying cheek to cheek. Things don't get much better than that! We laid like that for ten minutes or so while I casually stroked each of their hips. Liz announced break time was over, "All right, let's see what you have learned. Just do what I did, and I'll be one happy camper. Now it's time for me to be in the middle, and I get to hold Peter's dick, and you get to make me cum!" Linda was like a duck to water, all I heard was, "that's good, a little more suction, slower with your fingers, that's it, flail that clit," and other terms of endearment as Linda dove for the magic muff. I wish I could be as cool as girls are about being bi, it's a big thing for most guys and almost a casual once-in-a-while thing for women. Are all guys abused in their cribs? Anyway, whatever it is, I'm glad it's part of the feminine makeup. After Liz's cum, I was greeted with the mirror image of the girls from before, now it was Linda's hand cupping Liz's tit and Linda's cheek resting on top of Liz's. After a short rest, Liz showed Linda our approved way of sucking cock that included having Linda put her hand on Liz's throat so she could feel my cock slide down into her. We had Linda about halfway into being a great cocksucker when it was time to talk about anal. Liz was on her back with her legs way back so her cunt and asshole were clearly seen. First, she had Linda lube her hand in Liz's pussy, "Now, try to put it in my ass." Linda ran into a brick wall. "See what happens when you tighten up? Put your other hand on my stomach, feel how tense it is? OK, get that finger relubed." Liz laughed, "It's a tough job, but somebody's got to do it. Now try it again." Linda was more surprised than I was, but her finger was in to the hilt. "See, put that hand back on my stomach, feel? Relaxed! See! Now you get my asshole nice and wet, and I'll swab down Peter's dick, and you'll see how easy it is to have an orgasm while ass-fucking." So there I laid, two pillows under my head, watching my aunt suck my dick while our newest recruit, my best friend's mother, was licking her ass. Liz had me good and wet and rolled off to lie in the center of the bed. She quickly put her hands behind her knees and had both legs in the air. "Come on, daddy, show this girl what a great ass-fucker you are.""Linda, help us while Peter holds my legs, and you get his dick in my ass." It is hard work not to come when you hear things like that! There I was on my knees, between Liz's legs, and a woman who had just met her was positioning my dick to ream her ass. I have a great life, Lord may it never change! Linda, on her knees next to me, said, "You're right, Daddy, just push it in to her." And push I did. I could see that Linda was fascinated by my dick spreading Liz's asshole. Her eyes were darting from Liz's increasingly dilated ass to her face. "Oh, honey, doesn't that hurt?" Liz's answer of "It's a little dry, but it will get better" set me in motion. "OK, Linda, let's help your sister out here. I'll pull my dick almost all the way out, and you put a mouthful of spit right on it. That'll make it better for Liz." I had one arm around Linda and was ready to force her down to where I was joined to Liz, but as I slowly eased my cock out, Linda was already bending down to put a big mouthful on my dick. Not only did she do that, but I could feel her tongue swiping on my dick, and I could see her fingering Liz's cunt at the same time. As she lifted her head up slowly, she looked up at me and smiled, all the while softly feeling Liz's cunt. "Was that good, Daddy?" I pulled her to me as I buried myself in Liz, and as I bottomed out in her ass, I was swabbing out Linda's mouth with my tongue. "Very good, little girl. Now lie down next to Liz and hold her tits from flying off as I fuck her ass." There I was, ass-fucking my aunt, while another grown woman played with her tits and switched from kissing her lips to sucking on those tits. All of that, coupled with Linda's dancing fingers in Liz's pussy, and Liz had come three times before I was ready to pop. "Now, both of you in front of me, I want to come in your mouths, hurry!" They both scrambled to be side by side on their knees as I was holding on, trying not to come. When they were cheek to cheek, I started moving my dick from one set of lips to the other. I don't think I made two full circuits before I was coming, coming into two open, willing mouths. Of course, I got cum all over their faces, but plenty got into each mouth. I fell back to the bed and watched as my two little whores licked each other's faces clean and ended with a big kiss. I knew that Liz would lick my dick clean, fresh from her ass, but was pleasantly surprised when Linda joined right in. She was a full-fledged member of the team. Later that day, when Mom got home, Liz and I watched as Linda brought Mom right off. After Mom came, I fucked Linda one last time, bent over a coffee table. Mom and Liz were on the other side of the table, sucking on Linda's tits, and we sort of had a tug of war, me pulling on her hips and the girls trying to suck her over to their side of the table. Later on, we had to talk Linda's fears away: "What am I going to tell my son?" "Tell him you're working with my Mom in the catering business for conventions. It's an on-call sort of thing." "But what about the sex?" Mom jumped in, "You have as much sex as you want with your boy. You'll never convince me you don't think your own son doesn't have the nicest looking and best-tasting dick in the world. If you want, we can do foursome swap parties or all sorts of threesomes - I mean: you, me and your boy, Peter, your boy, and yourself, there's always your son, my son, and me, but I would think that if you fuck and suck your son, he ain't going to want much more in life, at least for the time being. You need some help, you can always call on me or Liz." I finished up by telling Linda, "Look, Bob's my friend. He wants to fuck you, and you work for me. You fuck whoever I tell you to. That's how we make our money, BY BEING A WHORE!" The yell got her attention. "Now listen, you enjoy your life with Bob, sucking and fucking is part of the two of your lives. You need me and Mom to help out once in a while, fine. The way this works is, I can fuck you all the time, but Bob can't fuck my Mom all the time, because she belongs to me. Now go home and tell him how much you enjoyed 'our date,' and take it from there. Any problems, tell me. Now come here and give me and my dick a kiss goodbye, and you'll be working by the end of the week." And with a soft "Yes, Daddy," that's what she did. I slept like an angel that night. Two days later at school, Bob asked me how my mother was after our date. I told him great, she and I are doing a lot of stuff together. How about you? The blush told me all I needed to know. But Bob stammered out that he had no idea his mom liked sex so much. I left him with two thoughts: when you going to show Pat your new stuff, and if you ever get bored, we could always double again, only this time we wouldn't even bother going out. It only took Bob ten days to figure out that his mom wasn't just catering food at those conventions. He was pretty angry when he grabbed me on the way to school. "I think my mother's a prostitute!" And then I had to listen to all the clues he had discovered, the money, how she smelled, and etc.etc. What other response is there but, "So?" That got me three more minutes of righteous indignation from my best friend the motherfucker. So I broke in again. "Look, I don't know if your mom or mine is a whore, but I do know my mom is getting laid at some of those functions she works, and I know that for the first time in years, she hasn't been worried about money. Now you just told me you and your mom are fucking. You know me and my mom are doing the same thing, so should we tell them that it's OK to fuck us but nobody else? I'll tell you right here and now and to your face, I enjoyed the shit out of our double date, and I want to do it again, only this time no separate bedrooms, side by side fucking our moms and making them fuck each other. You are not going to tell me that doesn't turn you on." I could see that Bob was very angry, but he wasn't going to swing at me because he had seen me fight, and he knew what would happen to him if he tried it. "I'll tell you what I'll do, I know a mother-daughter that we can tag team. I'll set up a date, and we can try some stuff out on them that might be fun with our moms. You try this with me, and if you don't like it, we'll never talk about our moms again, OK?" I got sort of a sullen yes and commenced my long-term adjustment program on Bob. Now if I could find some time for LuAnn, I wanted to try out some of my new-found pimping skills on her innocent ass.	null	Chapter 9	Authors/peterbeater/chap 9 teen age pimp.txt
85,356	null	A Note to My Wife About Her Lover Dirk	You've taken on a lover whose name is Dirk. Dirk is handsome, sexy, tall, and slender, somewhat muscular with a tight butt. You've discovered his cock is bigger than mine, and you love for him to fuck you, especially in our bed and in front of me. The two of you enjoy telling me what you like doing to each other. You enjoy making me a little jealous by telling me that he fucks you much better than I do. You know it turns me on when you tell me he makes you so horny he's welcome to fuck you any way he wants, any time he wants. Although you are my wife, you've become his sex slave. When you know he's coming over, you dress up real sexy for him, just the way he likes. You make me watch you getting ready for him as you don your garters and stockings, see-through top, and crotchless panties. Dirk likes to have your pussy on display, and what Dirk wants, you give him. When the doorbell rings, you send me to answer it. Dirk comes in and tells me he's here to fuck your tight pussy. He tells me he knows I can't satisfy you because you are a whore who likes a big man with a big cock. You come out to the living room, and he immediately gives you a big tongue kiss, taking control of you right away. He picks you up and carries you back to our bedroom, with me following. You begin to undress him, all the time commenting to me what a great body he has. After he is completely disrobed, you begin licking his chest and running your hands along his thighs and butt. With your tongue and lips, you make your way down his body to his legs and inside his thighs. You love his manly scent as you begin to suck his balls and lick his shaft. You turn to me and tell me to watch how a real man takes you. You tell Dirk, "Show him how a real man fucks me. I'll do anything you want." Dirk grabs you and throws you down on our bed. He forces your legs apart and goes down on you roughly, his tongue and lips between your legs, licking, sucking, kissing. You begin moaning as his tongue rapidly flicks your clit. His hands are squeezing your tits one minute and then your butt the next. You cry out to me how good it is, how nice to have a real man eating your pussy. You tell me Dirk is the best you've ever had. You are really turned on by his dominance. You come over and over, each time more intense than the last. Dirk looks at me and says, "You see how I'm taking her? I'm giving her what she needs, and you can't. She's your wife, but now her pussy belongs to me." Then Dirk tells me, "I always make the husband put on panties and suck my cock a little before I fuck his wife." He walks over to where I'm sitting, holding a pair of frilly women's panties. "Get undressed and put these on," he orders me. I do as he says. He smiles and says, "That's better." You giggle and tell me, "Oh, you look so girly." Then he puts his semi-hard cock up to my mouth. "You need to get a sample of what your wife is about to enjoy." "Oh yeah, suck his big cock, baby," you tell me, "then he'll fuck me the way I need to be fucked." I take the head of his cock in my mouth. I can taste the slick precum and smell his musky odor. I move his cock in and out in short strokes, then I lick his shaft and suck his balls. I can tell he's getting harder. I imagine him filling your pussy with his massive tool, and the thought excites me. I've entered the most intense sexual zone I've ever experienced. "Mmmm, you're really good at this," he tells me with a smirk, "I can tell you enjoy my cock." I continue to lick his shaft and suck his balls, which are full of cum that he is going to pump into your tight, juicy pussy. In a moment, his cock is completely hard. He pulls away from me and kneels between your outstretched legs. As he rubs his cock around the outside of your pussy, he looks at me and says, "Your wife is really a true slut, but you don't have what it takes to satisfy her, so I'm going to give her what she needs right now." Then he begins to push his cock in your pussy, slowly and a little at a time. You moan and wrap your legs around his, beginning to meet his strokes with thrusts of your own. "Oh, she is so tight," he tells me. Finally, he's all the way in. You look at me and say, "This is the biggest, nicest cock I've ever had. Watch how he fucks me, honey." Your moans continue as he fucks you. Then he begins to fuck you faster and harder, his balls slapping against your crotch. I know he is about to cum. The look of joy on your face as you take his cock leaves no doubt about your satisfaction. I see his butt muscles tighten, and I know he is pumping a big load of man juice into your body. You are almost screaming with delight at this point. He grunts as he delivers his load. When he finally stops, the two of you are both gasping for breath. You wrap your body around his, and he gives you a long, deep tongue kiss. Slowly, he pulls his cock from your pussy. His tool is still hard, and it glistens with your juices and his cum. He tells me to join the two of you on the bed. He offers his cock to me again and tells me to suck him. I take his cock once again and taste the sweet combination of his cum mixed with your pussy juice. I lick and suck, paying particular attention to the head of his cock. I can tell you are both enjoying watching me service him. When I finish, he orders me to clean your pussy. I bring my face down between your legs and begin to lick the juices leaking from your pussy. You moan softly as Dirk urges me on. "You like licking my cum from her pussy. When you've got her all cleaned up, you have my permission to fuck her." I rise up and position the tip of my cock at the entrance to your pussy. I pause briefly and then plunge into you with one stroke. Your pussy is wet and loose from being fucked by Dirk's bigger cock. I pump in and out for barely a minute before adding my load of cum to Dirk's. Dirk begins to get dressed, and you beg him to come back soon. You tell him you're his slave and you will do anything he tells you; that from now on, your pussy belongs to him.	null	null	Authors/Wifesharer/A Note to My Wife About Her Lover Dirk.txt
85,520	null	Michelle 2: Confessions of a Teen Seductress	You may remember me. I'm the voyeur who, when I last left you, was sharing my most powerful sexual memory: watching Michelle, the sixteen-year-old with the perfect proportions, making love with balletic grace for several hours with Scott, her equally perfect physical teen lover. If there is a more moving sight than watching Michelle on top, her breasts swaying tightly, keeping Scott from moving and repeatedly impaling herself on his cock, it has somehow passed me by. I never really watched many porn flicks, maybe one a year, but after seeing Michelle and Scott in action together, I didn't watch any porn or even soft core, for twenty years. There was simply nothing that could possibly top those sexual images. If you would like to start there, and I recommend it, Michelle can be found at this web address. I remember when I started to go out with Michelle's mother, Ann. At that point, Michelle was 12-13 and I paid very little attention to her. I remember she had a T-shirt she had appropriated from her older brother. It had the name of a punk band, Blasting Caps, on it, as well as graphics signifying little explosions. She would wear it around the house with her white cotton underwear. I didn't think a thing about it. A year or so later, she was walking around in that same T-shirt, although now it contained serious breasts pushing half-inch nipples behind it, directly under two of the little explosion graphics. It was a thrill just to watch Michelle breathe in that T-shirt. Throw in the tiny bikini underwear she then started wearing, and you had her usual ensemble. Suddenly, we had a 14-year-old Playmate strutting around our house, and I was feeling like a child molester waiting to happen. More than once, the sight of her drove the air from my lungs. I couldn't tell at that point if Michelle simply didn't know she was a knockout or whether she dressed as casually as she did because she knew exactly how she looked. I came to understand that the answer was more the latter. She spent years practicing and developing her sexual power. And then one night, I accidentally saw her au naturel, discovering that she was one of those rare females who look far better out of clothes than in them. At that point, I was living with Ann (Michelle's mother) in their house, and one night I was walking down the hall to get to my bedroom but also, coincidentally, toward the bathroom. Ann suddenly opened the bathroom door from the inside, and I noticed two things in milliseconds: the first was that Michelle, standing beside the bathroom sink, was facing me, nude with the dark triangle and perfect breasts, the kind that females prayed and paid for, and second, that the bathroom curtain beside her was wide open. When Michelle saw me, there was none of that coyness you might expect in a moment like this. She simply looked at me as if to say, "Well, how do you like me?" Ann saw me then, closed the door, but stayed in the bathroom. I immediately walked out the front door and around the side of the house, where at the bathroom window I could view that body at my leisure. When I came close to the window, I could see all of her, and she was intoxicating. Her nipples, fully erect, pointed slightly upward, and I watched as her breasts bounced oh-so-firmly as she dried her hair. She pivoted gracefully several times, presenting that perfect ass to me, unblemished and topped with two small dimples. Her ass was the reason that thongs were invented, but I preferred her without underwear, and always would. I came out to look four more times, oblivious to passersby in the street and to the possibility of being arrested. At that point, I became hooked on the drug that was her body. About a month after that experience, I walked into the kitchen and found Michelle standing behind the refrigerator door. She was wearing a T-shirt, but when I strolled over and stood looked into the refrigerator, I noticed very quickly that she was wearing see-through bikini underwear. I was so flummoxed that I straight-out asked her, "What exactly is the point of invisible underwear?" And she looked at me and said, "If you don't like it, don't look at it." Not a statement I expected from a 14-year-old. And then she pivoted, leaving the kitchen, and I moved slowly backwards to the kitchen door to watch her tight little ass swing its way back to the bedrooms. How that tiny waist could be over that ass and under those breasts was a wonder of nature. At the very end of the hall, just when she was ready to turn right, she shoved her right hip toward me and slowly peered at me over her right shoulder. Her smile was far beyond her years. I suddenly gasped as I discovered I'd been holding my breath during her long walk down the hall. She had that kind of effect on people. I spent the next five years creating ways to see Michelle nude and in action. As one example of creating such opportunities, between my bedroom and the bathroom, there was a closet whose back wall abutted the back of the bathroom medicine cabinet. I had cut a small hole through the wall and the back of the cabinet, through which I was able to watch Michelle's pre- and post-shower activities. Sometimes I was even lucky enough to see her having sex with herself or with various male teens. Over the five years I was watching her, for example, I was fortunate enough to see her move from giving grade school to post-doctoral blow jobs. To judge by the faces of those whose cocks she locked lips on, the things she could do with her mouth, hands, and suction beggared the imagination. The spyhole was also the perfect place from which to watch her because the six-foot mirror in the bathroom was directly to the left of my view. Thus, I was able to watch Michelle trying on hundreds of outfits. It was very moving to watch her move from nudity to dancing outfits, trying to determine which was the most revealing. It almost made me think there might in fact be a benevolent God. Michelle seemed to be auditioning for me: "Does this outfit make me look my sexiest? How do you like my nipples in this outfit?" I grew to know her every curve, dimple, and mole. And some of those outfits. I recall a green dress, knee-length, of some material like silk, as tight on her body as skin on a seal. I could see not only her nipples but, as she came closer to the mirror, individual bumps on her nipples. Then there was the midnight blue number, almost floor length, made of something like rayon, that flowed down and over her body. She came out of the bathroom to the living room, where I had just arrived, twirled in it for me, and asked how I liked it. I saw the line of her underwear, and I said, I thought under my breath, "Pity." She asked what was wrong, and I said her underwear ruined the line of her dress. She didn't even pause, reaching under her dress with both hands, lifting it and pulling her bikinis down, stepping out of them, and handing them to me. They were black, tiny, and still warm. She gave me a look as if to say, "I know what you're going to do with those," and disappeared out the front door. As I watched her walk to the car, I could see the dress flowing over her and, every other step, a perfect outline of her ass. I remember thinking that tonight there were going to be many pleased males and not a few unpleased females. And then there were the many short skirts. She had a black one that reached only about three inches beneath her crotch. She would dance in the mirror, turning and twisting so she could see what sort of movement uncovered her panties. That was moving enough, but then she shocked me by taking off her underwear and making the same movements. What I realized was that Michelle was coordinated and graceful enough to dance wildly and yet only flash people whom she wanted to. I saw her sit down in that dress and while there was a great deal of leg and some ass showing, she could easily deny the view between her legs. The challenge I occasionally faced at the spyhole was that the outer door to the medicine cabinet was sometimes closed. After some thinking, I found that when I heard Michelle pull back the curtain to enter the shower, I could take a bent coat hanger and push through the hole, opening the cabinet door. That allowed me to watch at least the nude post-shower festival--hair drying, make-up, dressing, and the occasional bathroom sex. One night, however, when I was sure Michelle was in the shower, I pushed the medicine cabinet door open to see Michelle looking directly at the hanger, the hole, and me. It was a bad moment, generating the sickest of feelings in my gut. I figured I would never see Michelle or her mother again. But Michelle had surprised me. Not only did she not turn me in, but it seemed to me that she actually made sure the medicine cabinet door was open whenever she was in the bathroom. Michelle and I had never discussed it, but I'd always been curious why she had done that. I am now in my middle sixties and have been married to Michelle's mother for twenty-five years. My opportunities now for voyeurism are totally limited; I have no desire to cruise the neighborhood and get arrested as a senior deviant.Moreover, my chances of finding another body like Michelle's at 14-19 were non-existent. Michelle is now in her mid-40s, married, childless, and still well-proportioned. She is also, unfortunately, suffering from several chronic autoimmune diseases that have kept her mostly bedridden over the last ten years. That someone so vital could be bedridden is one of those terrible tragedies that sometimes happen to good people. Luckily for this tale, her memory was functioning very well. Twelve months ago, I was traveling on business in the West, where Michelle lives, and I wanted to spend some time with her because, aside from everything else, we were friends. When I had visited her in the past, though, even if she were feeling bad, she always felt as if she had to entertain me, which led to her getting tired really fast. So when I knocked and walked into her bedroom, I was determined to not let her take the social initiative. I said, "Michelle, what can we do that doesn't involve your entertaining me?" Her reaction surprised me. She giggled. I took a closer look at her, and her pupils told me she was clearly drugged. She said she had taken two major pain pills because of her internal problems and didn't have the IQ to entertain me anyway. She asked what her choices were to be entertained. I said I would happily rub her feet, read to her, tell amusing stories, anything really. She semi-blearily asked if there were anything else. Just tossing it off, I said, "Well, we could play twenty questions." Michelle brightened a little at that and said, "There have been a few questions that I'd love to ask you." And I said, "I feel exactly the same way." She then asked me, "How many times did you watch me having sex?" It was like being hit in the face with a large fish. We had never discussed this, even after she had caught me looking at her that one evening. But I thought, why not? What's to lose? What follows is an edited transcription of seven or so hours of me interviewing Michelle that day and the following one. I had turned on the miniature tape recorder I always carried before asking her if it was all right. I just knew it would be. A: You're not going to like my answer. M: Why not? A: Because I can't really say. I never really counted. I can tell you that I watched you have sex with roughly twenty guys. And I know there were many more. M: OK, I guess. I never counted either. A: Many of your lovers were when you were fourteen, your first and most active year of sexual activity. About six of those guys were what I called "thrust-comes" that I never saw again. M: Yes. I remember those days as well. "Thrust-comes" pretty well describes some of them. I'd just start to think about getting hot and they would finish. I never saw them again either. A: I remember your telling me later that if your lovers couldn't go an hour, you never saw them again. I thought you were exaggerating until I saw you in action. Now can I ask you two questions? M: I suppose I owe you two. A: First (pointing to the recorder), do you mind if I tape this? I don't want to forget anything. M: Sure. I don't want you to forget anything either (giggle). A: Second, why you didn't turn me in when you caught me? It was terrifying at first because I loved, and still love, your mother and didn't want to lose her. M: Believe me, turning you in was my first thought. I was really pissed. And I came within seconds of telling her. But two things stopped me. One, I could tell she really cared about you. And second, well, I found the idea of you watching gave me a little buzz. A: You're kidding. M: It's a little hard to explain. But what I realized was that, after I thought about it a little, the idea of you watching me and whoever I was with made the whole thing more exciting. A: I suppose voyeurs and exhibitionists are the ultimately compatible couple. M: Yeah. I guess I was an exhibitionist. (looking thoughtful) I used to love wearing leotards without underwear to the alternative school. I could watch the guys in my classes getting hard-ons as they pretended not to look at me. The same thing happened with some of the fathers of the guys I was going out with and occasionally with the male teachers. I once wore a skirt split up to my hip, a T-shirt and no underwear to history class. When I spread my legs, my teacher had to sit down. It was pretty funny. A: For you, I'm sure. M: Did you notice that I even helped you by making sure the cabinet door was open so you could see into the bathroom? A: I know you did, and I thank you for that. It seemed that after that, you had a great deal more sex in the bathroom. M: I knew then that I was not only having sex but putting on a show. I really got into it in a way I hadn't before. Can I ask you another question? A: Only if you let me ask one after it. M: (still looking a little looped) What was the most exciting thing you ever saw me do in the bathroom? A: That covers a great deal of ground. Do you mean by yourself or with someone else? M: Let's start with me by myself. What did you see? A: This happened before you caught me. It was a Saturday afternoon. You went into the bathroom, locked the door, and I peeled myself against the hole in my closet. You stripped, got in the shower and then I read while I waited for you to turn off the water. When that happened, I returned to the spyhole and what happened was close to magical. You had laid on the washer a complete white negligee outfit, garter belts, panties, wrapper, stockings, etc., and they all seemed to be made of some invisible fabric. But the real fun was watching your reverse strip tease. M: I don't follow. A: Well, you started nude, always heart-pounding for me, and then, one by one, you put on each part of the invisible negligee outfit. After one piece was on, you pivoted all the way around in the mirror to look at it, so I got to see you in each piece from all possible angles. Let me tell you, kid, you had no bad sides. And you did it with every item in the outfit. I loved watching you check out your backside with the silk stockings. You even practiced flashing yourself in your trench coat at the mirror three times. That got both of us excited. I had to remind myself to breathe as I watched you briefly stroking your sex. When you were almost done dressing, if you could call it that--I walked out to the living room and waited. You showed up about five minutes later wearing the trench coat. I commented on your white-lined silk stockings and asked exactly what you were wearing. You said, "Never you mind," and then took off for Scott's. M: Oh, Scott was watching basketball, so I just took off the trench coat and sat down in a wing chair. At one point, he turned around and that was it for basketball, although what we did was a lot like the NBA--a great deal of scoring and no defense. A: I'm sure. M: Did anyone else ever watch me? A: I think it was my turn to ask a question, but I'll catch up. Well, there was the night of the roofers. M: The night of the roofers? A: That was when I shared you and Scott with four workers replacing the next-door neighbor's roof. M: Tell me about that. I don't remember it at all. A: You wouldn't. It was about 7:30 one evening, starting to get dark. I heard you telling your mother you were going to hop into the shower, so I headed for my spy hole. I noticed when I stepped into the closet that there was hammering coming from next door. The neighbor lady was having a new roof put on. I didn't think a thing about it for about thirty seconds, but then you came through the bathroom door, whipped off your pink bathrobe and stood there, nude and heart-stopping. You turned on the radio and raised the volume. Then you looked at yourself for a while in the mirror. I was having trouble swallowing. I noticed, though, that the hammering next door had stopped. I turned off my bedroom light, went to the window and found four roofers all lying down on the side of the roof closest to the bathroom, not moving, holding on for dear life, their eyes glued on you. M: I never knew. At that point, it hadn't even occurred to me that you were watching me, much less others. A: It only happened the one time so far as I know. I know you went to the bathroom and then you were walking to the closed bathroom door when it opened. You jumped a little, bouncing wonderfully, until you saw it was Scott, wearing jeans shorts, his favorite Summer outfit. M: Oh boy, do I remember. Jean shorts without underwear. Those shorts were kind of like a sexual ATM. And I knew exactly what lever to pull. A: You demonstrated that very quickly in the bathroom. You two kissed and then your hands went directly to his shorts, which instantly dropped to the ground, leaving Scott naked, his cock pointing at you. You two hugged closely and, as he turned you around, your ass facing me, I saw his cock coming out under your ass and between your legs, which was a little funny. You two could have made a fortune in porn flicks. M: It's funny. Almost every day I say to myself how glad I am that I didn't live in a time where everyone has digital video cameras or cell phones. I can't help feeling that someone would have gotten me sooner or later. A: Hell, I would have gotten you. M: Then what happened in the bathroom? A: You knelt, pushed him back so he was sitting on the washing machine, facing me, showing the back of your head and that tiny waist over the even-greater ass. I remember thinking your backside might have caused Hugh Hefner to start another magazine, strictly for nude photographs of you. It was clear that you were taking him into your mouth. Your head started slowly bobbing and he got an almost angelic look on his face. Because the roofers were looking at this sideways, though, they had a much better view, which they must have loved. I watched Scott's face. At first, his head snapped back a little but then righted itself.His eyes got glassy, and then he shut them. His head seemed to be moving with your head for a while, and then, 4 or 5 minutes later, Scott's eyes opened, he exhaled loudly, wrapped his hands around your head, pulled your head closer, and you started bobbing more deeply. Over the radio music, I could actually hear your sucking sounds. His face scrunched up as if he were in pain, and then there were three long "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhs." I always thought there could be a great documentary film made of your lovers' faces as you brought them in your mouth. It was a sight I didn't get to see very much. My eyes were almost always elsewhere. The view is the only downside to oral sex. Then what happened? I watched your neck thicken and your head bob as you swallowed several times. Yeah. That was Scott all right. Take all the sperm he shot into me one way or another, and I think we could have fathered an entire generation. I always wondered what would have happened if we had a baby together, aside from Mom shooting herself. Imagine the bodies there could have been. I've already imagined it. Then you immediately went down on him again. Scott wasn't surprised, but the roofers and I were blown away, so to speak. It was the first double blow job I'd ever seen, and it took someone of Scott's virility, and your skills, to do it. This time, Scott wasn't looking anywhere but at your face as you moved closer and then further away. What a view it must have been. Yeah. Scott liked to watch me suck him off. He said it really turned him on to watch and feel his cock disappear into my mouth. His favorite position for oral was to sit at the side of the bed and have me suck and look up at him like a submissive slave girl. It wasn't really my style, but I was always willing to do it because then I could choose the next four ways we could attack each other. That was the first double blow job I had ever seen. I was soon to learn that, with certain of your lovers at least, it was one of your signature moves. And occasionally a triple blow job if the guy had made me feel really special. Scott got several of those. I have to ask you, how many times could he come without getting soft? He once went ten times with me, but he probably could have gone more. I never had so potent a lover. He's still my very best. So what happened then? Then he stood you up and moved you so you were standing facing and leaning over the washing machine, your back to me. I thought for a second that he was going to have anal sex with you, as did the roofers, I'm sure. I never got into anal, although every lover I had tried to screw my ass. Even Don (Michelle's best male friend, who was gay) stroked my ass every once in a while we were changing in the bathroom. And yet I remember you saying that you thought your ass was too small, which was laughable. The only adjective I ever heard from anyone about your ass was "tight," and it had nothing to do with your being overly conservative. Right (laughs). I tried anal several times, but I had to stop because it hurt. Scott's cock was far too large for it to work, although he did use his fingers to good advantage a few times. I couldn't picture myself coming that way, so what was the point? I played with guys' assholes. They certainly liked that--but no one penetrated mine with his cock. But I interrupted you. No problem. In a great moment, as you leaned over the washer, I watched as Scott seemed to be having trouble entering you, probably because of the angle and your height differences. Then you tilted up your ass like a dog in heat (I wish I had had the roofers' view), and Scott entered you in the more traditional way. His ass started moving in and out fairly slowly. And I could see your head start lolling forward, and then you were leaning down against your arms on the washing machine top. You were relatively quiet, but I knew you were going to get more demonstrative later. In about ten minutes, as he went faster and deeper, I could hear you take some huge breaths and then cry out several times when you climaxed. I never knew why you bothered to play the music. Your climaxing was always louder than the radio. Scott never left your body, and after you calmed down a bit, he started thrusting again, and after six or so minutes, you climaxed even more loudly. And then Scott left, limping a little, I thought, (who could blame him?) and you got into the shower. What you have to know is that the four roofers stayed perched on the roof through your entire shower and then watched as you got dressed. My guess is that they are still telling that story. How often in life does a guy look casually to his right and see a nude playmate? Now I get to ask some questions. Tell me about what happened that Spring Break when you came back calling yourself a rapist. You would never tell me the full story, and I know I asked ten times.You'd think the noise would be the first thing you'd notice, but it wasn't. What I noticed and still think about was the smell, a kind of pungent hormonal odor pervading the room. It had never occurred to me that lust had a fragrance, but when you are surrounded by it in an enclosed space, there is a sharp tang that somehow magnifies your drives. Then there was the noise. Twenty-four people breathing heavily made the room sound like a TB ward. Then throw in the higher and lower-pitched moans and other sounds. Behind me, I heard flesh slapping, and I turned to see a couple using the doggy style, the guy smashing his front against her backside. Decent cock. The girl was slamming her ass against his legs as close as it would go. And then there was what I can only call the sound of the gospel. It's amazing how many sinners use the word "God" while sinning. And then there was the sound of a second climax, a guy shouting out, which triggered a number of other low-pitched shouts. There were a few dejected sounds of girls, which I took to be complaints that they had not come. I never did hear any of the girls climax. Seemed to me totally wasteful on their part. I almost stood up to lecture them on how to achieve satisfaction. But there was this pumping cock in me. I heard all the coming and flipped Denny over, getting on top so I could control the outcome. I tightened my cunt until Denny was about to climax and then loosened it and grabbed him with my hands so he wouldn't climax (he was more than a little shocked), but I explained I wanted to screw some more. At that point, I was unaware of what else was going on, but when I finally tightened up and pumped hard, we ended up climaxing together very loudly (you know how I can be). Apparently, we were the last ones to come (and I was the only girl to do so) because while we were lying there spent, there was loud applause which I realized was directed at us. Looking back, since most of the people in the room were in his school, I knew that on that day the Legend of Denny was born. I did notice, though, that none of the guys were watching Denny. At this point, all 24 of us were nude, and I'd be willing to bet that some of those people still have rug burns. I was nowhere near satisfied, though. Everyone else was recovering, but I went down on him. When I first put his cock in my mouth, he cringed a little, but then, when I took my first suck, he fell back and started breathing heavily. I later found that his only previous blowjob was amateurish and tooth-filled. Within seconds, though, he knew I was no amateur, and he sank into a dazed ecstasy until he came so hard I almost choked. Again, there was scattered applause. We then stood up, took nude bows, hastily put on our bathing suits, and went back to my room. We took a shower to remove the sun tan oil and fucked each other blind. About two in the morning, when he was even testing even my staying power, he asked what grade I was in. I said, "Come again?" He said, "I'd love to, but first tell me what grade you're in." I tentatively asked, "What grade are you in?" and he said he was in the eleventh. He was seventeen, in high school, and I was suddenly a statutory rapist. Denny, of course, wouldn't have turned me in, even if someone held a gun to his head. I probably would have gathered he was young if we had talked more, but all we really did was foreplay and screw each other. I spent the rest of the week training him--basic female anatomy (he didn't know the girls came too, he didn't know what a clitoris was, let alone where it was or how to handle it). I taught him about going down, the strengths and weaknesses of various kinds of licking. He didn't want to go down on me at first--said it was gross. But when I said that if he wouldn't go down on me, I'd never suck him off again, his head was a blur to my crotch. It was really fun to control this fabulous male body, telling him how to do me, and by extension, other girls. And during that week, he became very well-trained, and I had great sex six or seven times a day. We'd be lying in bed, I'd point between my legs, and I'd swear his tongue would get hard. Bless the stamina of seventeen-year-olds.We cut it and cut it, and then snorted an entire gram, which left us much freer than we had been all night, and that was saying a great deal. We had both been sweating, and our dresses were a mess. Lainie reached behind her, popped a button, and her strapless mini-dress hit the floor, leaving her nude. I eyed her in a way I had never eyed a woman and dropped my own dress very quickly. We kissed, a long, slow, wet kiss that curled my toes. Lainie said, "I think we should take a shower." And I agreed. We walked to the bathroom nude. A: No. You two were quiet. And at 3:00 I'm not very observant. How did the shower go? M: Amazingly. You know what cocaine does to your nerve endings. When she soaped me up, front and back, I just shut my eyes, and I could swear I saw her touching me, great swatches of electric colors. And I loved touching her because I knew the female body way better than the male body. And we very nearly brought each other. At this point, there was no doubt about us having sex. We went back into the bedroom and did the rest of the cocaine, and we both knew that whatever we ended up doing was going to last the rest of the night. We were flying. A: How did the sex start? M: It had started on the dance floor, in the car, and in the shower. It started again when I got on the bed, on top of the covers, and she walked over and knelt at the bottom of the bed and kissed the arch of my foot with what felt like electric lips. She moved her mouth very slowly up my leg. She stopped just short of my sweet spot. I could feel my body was shaking a little in anticipation. When she started kissing on the arch of my other foot, I know I moaned a little in frustration as she worked her way up my other leg. By that time she got close to my sex, I could have cared less whether there was a penis involved or not. She was between my legs, looked up at me and said, "Think about the best sex you've ever had with Scott." I did, and then felt her hands gently pulling my genital folds apart and felt her tonguing me in little circles around and sometimes over my clitoris. This was not something Scott did very well, but Lainie had clearly had a great deal of practice (which figures, right?). She had me rising and falling in passion. She would bring me to the very edge of coming, usually by a strategic suck, and then back away, letting me calm down a little. She must have done that four or five times, and I was ready to explode. I actually begged her to bring me (which I've never done with a guy). She then bent down, raising my legs a little, and proceeded to take me up and over a climax that started in my very soul and then moved out to every nerve in my body. I know I screamed. A: Yes. That I do remember. And I went around to look in the window, but for some reason, the curtains were closed, a real rarity--so I couldn't see anything. What happened in your bedroom after you came? M: I went down on her. I found it was surprisingly easy. Not only was I not repelled, I did it with gusto. I wanted to show my appreciation big time. She was as sopping as I was, and I brought her several times with my tongue, and then we started again. I'm not sure how many times we brought each other with our mouths and fingers and legs. I do remember thinking that the great thing about girl-girl sex was that neither of us had to wait for an erection to appear. We just kept screwing. I do remember one amazing scissoring position she started, in which we were able to rub our clitorises together, coming three or four times in a row. Sweet friction. And only when the sun was very high did we stop. The last thing I remember was rolling over and saying, "All along this was only a ploy to get into my pants, wasn't it?" To which she replied, "Michelle, my dear, you aren't wearing any pants." She had me there. When we both came out to lunch, I remember you looking shocked. A: Well, I had heard you climax a bunch of times (as did everyone else in the house) and just imagined it was Scott or some guy. I was unprepared for the tall blonde with the great breasts I had seen the previous night. M: So was I, initially. A: And did you ever have sex with a girl again? M: No. I had other offers from gay and even a few straight girls, but was never tempted again. I never came across as skilled a seductress as Lainie was. Why try to top perfection? A: Multiple partners? M: Sure did. A: Smartass. I mean at the same time. M: Several times. A: Which time do you remember best? M: Ah, yes. I was dancing in a club downtown that closed long ago. A great band, and I was swinging my booty in a skirt so short it was probably illegal. Many guys tried to pick me up, but most lacked any sort of style. While I was dancing, I suddenly saw a very tall, brown-haired, handsome man in front of me, who was dancing with me by copying my moves. He was smiling at me. When I started to change my moves, he changed right along with me. Then he started changing his moves on the floor, and I moved right along with him. There was a little freak dancing involved, although at that point, the term hadn't been invented. After about thirty minutes of dancing, both of us were breathing pretty heavy, and he leaned over and said, "I'm going out to elevate my mood. Would you like to join me?" We were in an alley beside the club, and he pulled out a joint, lit it, hit it, and then handed it to me. I did a major-league inhale, and at the end, felt a little dizzy. As he took his hit, he seemed to be getting smaller and larger as I watched him. I took the joint again and felt as if I weighed about twelve ounces. My God, that was great dope. He introduced himself as Jack, and we stared at each other for a while, the act of conversation beyond either of us. We then headed back to the dance floor. I have no idea how well or badly I danced, but it seemed to me that I was dancing better than anyone ever had since the creation of the world--and I was feeling as if that world were all mine. Jack obviously felt the same way, and we seemed to be in this little cocoon where all things were absolutely right. At this point, my bladder spoke to me, and so I told Jack where I was going and headed to the bathroom. He followed. When I came out later than I expected (the girls' bathrooms in clubs never had enough toilets), Jack was waiting for me outside the door. We went back to dancing. There were a few slow dances (I think of them as "grinders") where we seemed to get closer than possible. I could feel his heart beating and his cock pressing. Neither of us was embarrassed at all. We just kept on pushing. We danced for a while, and then suddenly, there was pressure from behind me. Someone was dancing very close. It seemed an imposition, so I swirled my head around, and there was Jack. But Jack was also in front of me. It took me a second to make sure it wasn't the drugs, but then I smiled, looked at the both of them, and blushed hard. The Jack I'd just been dancing with leaned forward and yelled to me, "Why are you blushing?" And I said, "Because I was just considering the possibilities." Jack then introduced me to Edward, his identical twin. We three got out of there in a hurry, and we drove in separate cars back to their place on the west side. They obviously had some money because there was an indoor hot tub under an open skylight where we all found ourselves (our clothes dropping as we came through the front door). I sat in what they called the "throne of honor" as they turned on and adjusted the jets. I found that, without moving, I could climax again and again. And I did. I suppose I was just trying to be polite. A: Right. How did the twins like that? M: They were hard before we even got in the hot tub. Since I was screaming at every climax, they liked it a great deal. I reached out and felt both of them--somehow they were even harder. They would alternate moving forward, and I found myself kissing each of them and felt four hands all over me. I had to move off the throne then because I really wanted someone's warm cock in me. A: I've always wondered about the logistics of a threesome. M: I think if it goes well, there are no logistics. It just happens. And it certainly happened that night. We left the hot tub and ended up on one of their king-sized beds. There were mirrors everywhere (clearly a bachelor pad) where when we screwed, ten other couples were screwing as well. All three of us loved that. It all became a blur then. As I said before, I don't like to get anal (although I like giving it), but I have two other openings and two hands, and I believe we explored every possible combination. I remember sucking off one of them as we lay facing each other on our sides while the other twin, lying on his side behind me, slowly thrust into me. Both of them came at the same time, which turned out to be more than coincidence. I remember kneeling between them as they both lay on their backs, pumping my hands up and down on their cocks and then, at the same time, feeling their twin climaxes dribble over my fingers. Clearly the twins were able to communicate with each other in some interesting ways. They had great stamina, bless them. And at one point, they introduced me to a new position that was phenomenal. A: Details, please? M: One of the brothers lay down on his back and moved my hips over his face, head to head. He said he wanted to lick me until I squirmed. I was all for that. I lowered myself down on his tongue, which went to work immediately. I loved this position, and Scott seldom did it. It was going great, and then I felt the other twin (who cared about names at a time like this?) pushed my back so my shoulders were closer to the ground. Then I felt his cock sinking into me from behind. This was almost too much, one guy licking and sucking my clitoris and the other thrusting away. At one point, I remember I almost blacked out.And then the guy thrusting and I both climaxed. A: And what about the twin on the bottom? M: Well, he had a wet, covered face. A: And he was okay with that? M: After I licked his face clean and brought him in my mouth, he was. Of course, while I was doing that, my ass was in the air and the other twin entered me again. It was great. Every time one of my holes was uncovered, it was filled very quickly. And on and on. I was so sore the next day that I actually had to use lubricant to give them good-bye sex. For me, a first. A: Did you ever see them again? M: Twice more, but there were more people involved in those experiences. A: Okay, maybe later. What would you say was your strangest sex experience? M: Hmmm. That would have to be in the year and a half I was in college. My roommate flunked out freshman year, and I was moved to what was primarily a black dorm. They put me in with Tina, a very attractive black girl. We got along fine. The problem was her boyfriend, who insisted on having sex in Tina's and my room. The beds were only seven feet apart. I'm sure he got off on having me there, but I was not amused. A: So what was the strange sexual experience? M: I knew I had to make Tina understand how I felt. So I asked a guy I had gone out with a number of times (but had never slept with) to come over and screw me loud. You know how vocal I can be. A: Yes, you used to wake me up at night when you came. That was through three closed doors. M: Keep in mind that I can control myself pretty well up until the fourth or fifth time I come, but I am usually keeping myself from screaming the whole time. When Ed, my friend, and I had sex in my dorm room, I didn't bother keeping anything in. I wish I had taped it. A: Me, too. M: It must have sounded like two cougars mating. At one point, I was on top, controlling the action, and screaming as I climaxed, and Ed, whom I always had thought of as shy, was yelling as I tightened and felt him emptying into me. It was a side of me that Ed had never really seen. But he really got into it. He wrote to me for years afterward. A: Did it work? Did the guy stop coming over? M: Oh, yeah. The next day, Tina came to me and said that it wouldn't work to have sex in our rooms, that she would tell her boyfriend no. And while he sometimes gave me dirty looks on campus, he never showed up with a hard-on in our room again. A: How about skinny dipping? M: Of course. Many times. Scott and I used to do it every opportunity we got, skinny dipping, that is. A: The best time? M: That would have to be the time we hiked the Opal Lake when I was a junior, me and Scott and Susan (Michelle's best female friend) and five of Scott's buddies. It was one of those Midwestern days well over 95, with 150% humidity. When we all got out of Scott's air-conditioned van, we were immediately drenched. It was a good two and a half miles to the lake, and by the time we got close, we were all dripping, and not in fun. When we got close to the lake, all five of Scott's friends ripped off their clothes and ran in. There they were, in the lake and looking back at us, waiting to see what we would do. Susan and I looked at each other, and we started to undress. I was only wearing my sandals, my holey jeans, my backpack, and that leather bikini top you got me at the craft show. A: I remember it well. That investment paid off many times over. M: I took off my top pretty quickly, and then Scott stepped over quickly and asked me not to take off all my clothes. I got pissed, saying something like, 'Why not? Do you think I hiked all the way out there not to swim?' He asked me again not to take off everything. The guys in the lake took my side, of course. One--I think it was Brady--said to Scott, 'Let the poor girl swim. See how hot she is?' And the other guys all laughed. Scott said to him, 'Right. You're concerned for her.' And Brady said, 'We only want to make sure she keeps cool.' Keep in mind that at this point, Susan was already naked; she was pretty good looking, but no one was even noticing her. A: Then what happened? M: I ended the debate by dropping my shorts and heading for the water. At that point, there was a fairly long silence, and Brady took a big breath, looked at my nipples, and said, 'Looks like she's cool now.' Scott then warned the group about looking at me. I remember laughing and saying something like, 'Right. Now let's see which is stronger, your threats or my body.' And suddenly the three guys who were standing in shallow water had to move into the deeper water. One of them even said, 'Of course, we'll be unable to come out of the water for some time.' And I said, 'Nonsense. I love hard-ons.' Then I looked over at Scott, noticed that he was looking at me and getting hard himself. And I said, 'So Scott, what are you going to do with that?' We played most of the afternoon, all six guys with erections bobbing. It looked a little painful at times, but no one directly around me ever got soft. Every direction I looked, I saw hard compliments. A: Anything else interesting happen? M: Well, about 45 minutes in, Susan and I wanted to work on our tans. We got our towels out of our backpacks, and I lay down on my stomach. Susan leaned over me and said, 'Should we give them a show?' And I said, 'Absolutely.' She slowly applied sun tan lotion to every inch of my backside, lingering on my ass. It was very quiet in the water, and I could hear Scott fuming. Then I did the same for Susan, the guys watching me and my hands more than her. A: Then what? M: We lay there, and the guys got loud again, clearly focused on farting around. After about thirty minutes, I flipped over on my back, and Susan put on the sun tan lotion even more slowly. She took maybe five minutes on my breasts alone. I found having six guys watching me was a huge turn-on. My nipples got as erect as some of the guys' cocks. And when she got to my crotch, she carefully rubbed lotion onto all of it, even moving her finger down my clitoris several times. I remember catching my breath and arching my back a little. I noticed then that it had gotten very quiet in the water. I then did the same for her and perhaps too well. She was really getting into it. She actually thrust up into my hand twice. I think that was the only moment when they were looking harder at her than they were at me. I toyed with the idea of bringing her, but I didn't think that would be fair to Susan or the guys, although at this point, I was horny enough to have taken on all six of them. A: And how would Scott have taken that? M: Scott wasn't real generous with me, which was sometimes a drag. Scott and I got so worked up that day that when we got back home, we stayed in my bedroom for a good twelve hours. A: Did you ever have a threesome with him? M: No, but once he asked me if I'd like to. That was pretty adventurous for him. A: So what happened? M: I said, 'Sure, I'd love to, if you were one of the guys.' For some reason, he never asked me about a threesome again. Any other sexy memories of me? A: All my memories of you are sexy. From 14 on, your sensual force was a given. What also amazed me was your grace. I never saw you make an awkward move in sex. Oh, I take that back. There was one time. M: When was that? A: We were watching the Williams' house for them (they were family friends, and we would occasionally watch their house when they went on vacations). They had that gorgeous pool, and for some reason, you and I were there alone. I remember you were in that black and red tiger-striped bikini that was about two sizes too small for you. M: Yeah. I loved that bathing suit, although it pinched me a little in tender spots. A: You were in the Williams' pool, sitting in that floating chair roughly ten feet away from me. The awkward move was that you had your left leg up on the pool end and your right one on the chair. It was so ungainly that I looked more closely. M: What did you see? A: I saw you come eight times in under five minutes. M: Really? A: Oh yeah. I first sensed that something was going on because of your awkward position, but I couldn't figure out what it was at first. Judging by your facial expression, nothing was going on, but other signs gave you away. Keep in mind that I knew the pool's water inlet was right where you were sitting. It became clear that your left foot was holding you right there while the water washed over your clitoris. M: I'm not likely to forget. Some afternoons, I came fifteen times and then waited ten minutes and did it again. I used to love to do that at night. When I didn't have to wear a bathing suit, I could caress my breasts at the same time, and I could come as loudly as I wanted. Scott used to love watching me do that. One night I was bringing myself over and over, yelling like a banshee, and I felt something wet hit my shoulder. I looked over at Scott. He was leaning back on his arms, looking at me, and his hard cock was pointing right at my face. I realized he had climaxed without touching himself. That was pretty amazing for both of us. So what let you know I was coming? A: Well, you were wearing shades, and your eyes were closed, but I was close enough to see that those eyes were rolling back in your head, a sure sign that you were really turned on. Your nipples were trying to push off your bikini top, I remember, and you were breathing more deeply than you normally did. And there was a red flush from your upper lips to, I assume, your lower lips. M: Yeah. That always happened. When I was 14, one guy on top of me asked if I was having a heart attack. I said, 'Kind of.' A: The real giveaway was the fact that you arched your foot each time you came. M: Yeah. I still do that. A: There was some time between the first and second and third arches, but then your foot arched faster and faster.And then, after the eighth foot arch, you moved your body so the water was no longer hitting you in that perfect place. You were still breathing heavily, and I asked you, "A penny for your thoughts." You gave me a little smile and said, in an extremely satisfied voice, "Yeah, right." M: "Is it getting warm in here?" A: "A little. Is there anything I can do?" M: "Yeah. You can watch." A: "Excuse me?" M: "No need for secrets between us now." At that instant, I realized how turned on both of us were. I had had an erection for some time, and I could see Michelle's hands moving under the covers. I was unprepared for what happened next. She brushed her bedclothes aside, and I saw immediately that her nightdress was up around her neck, and she was wearing nothing else. She made eye contact with me, kept it, and then moved both hands down between her legs. I moved my chair closer to her, putting my hand on her naked right thigh. I'd never been this close to her while she was having sex. With her left hand, she spread her lower lips apart, and her clitoris was suddenly standing there, moist and gleaming. Her right hand moved slowly around her clitoris, her head snapped back, her eyes closed and rolled back in her head, a sign I knew well. She started to touch herself more forcefully. Once more, the elemental communication between voyeur and exhibitionist. She was no longer 17, of course, but then neither was I 34. But she was still tight and started to go through those stages of excitement I knew only too well. I realized then that she would always be twenty years younger than me and drank in her body. Several times, as I watched, the fingers on her right hand would stop circling and three of them would sink several times inside her. As they sank, she brought her knees up, to push her fingers further in, I thought. I would momentarily raise my hand and then, as her legs would lower and she jutted her sex up to meet her rubbing fingers again, I would return my hand. Several times, she would move her left hand up to roll the nipple on her right breast. Her moves were graceful, long practiced, and totally absorbing. It ended far too quickly--although my time sense was pretty shaky at that point. She yelled in a way that was oh so familiar to me. My hand down on her thigh felt her shudder once, twice, three times. Her foot arched. She opened her eyes at me a little blearily and said, "I really needed that. Let's do this again tomorrow." Had she been 17 and we had found ourselves in this situation, I would never have been able to control myself. But I had too much to lose to take advantage of her horniness, not that she would have let me anyway. She gave me what she could, and I was very thankful for that. It was more than worth the twenty-five year wait. I continued interviewing Michelle for the entire next day. Then, happily, she no longer needed the pain pills as she had already completely shed her inhibitions with her nightshirt the day before. It was astonishing to hear the exploits that a truly sexy woman can have. I would make a suggestion or ask a question, and off we'd go into another of Michelle's sexual adventures that to her was no big deal. You'll have to decide that for yourself. What you are reading is roughly 30% of those interviews with Michelle. When I have some time, I will edit and post more of her recollections.	null	null	Authors/Adams/michelle2.txt
85,570	feitshboy1990	Yen and Yeki	Yen Yon was a smart 17-year-old boy. He was one of the most talented kids in his whole school. In school, he didn't have a girlfriend because he was a bit shy with girls. He always had a distracting eye on Yeki, who was a grade below his age; he popped boners every time, but since her classroom was in another building at school, Yen only saw her during lunch, which he never ate. Yeki was really not interested in Yen, as she was trying for other guys her age. It's not that Yen was not a good person; she knew he was cute and everything, but she was still picky. Yen's other classmates knew about the crush, and they just teased Yen from time to time. His best friend Chiyo always advised him to go up and talk to her, but Yen didn't have the guts to do it. During Yen's non-school hours, the boy worked 2 hours as a cashier at the local grocery, afterwards he would go home and do his homework, watch TV, play basketball with friends, and sleep. Yen had loving parents who cared for him in every way. Yen's family was well off; they had lots of property, and Yen's father was an engineer while his mother was a doctor. Yen was indeed good with his grades, so he was looking ahead for a bright future. Every night, Yen went to sleep in his nylon shorts without any underwear, as he had been doing for years. But when going to school, Yen wore three sets of briefs with two layers of toilet paper under his uniform because he had a dark secret! Ever since his crush on Yeki, he leaked pre-cum like a tap when he looked at her. He wanked at home thinking about Yeki every day, but it still did not help. He was really scared of the pre-cum because he had no control, and his uniform was a bright blue, tightly fitting pants which were made of synthetic nylon material, which made it really smooth but very sensitive to water, and that meant pre-cum was a serious problem. Girls at school wore the same pants, but they were gray-colored. Yen's ass was bigger than most other boys. He had a bubble butt and a big crack, and so did most of the boys his age, but his was just bigger. But because he wore so many sets of underwear, his ass crack was never visible in his pants! Once his best friend Chiyo did notice this and he asked why. Yen told him the truth about the problem, and he made him promise that he wouldn't tell anyone. Chiyo also confessed he had random erections (boners) at school, so it was no big thing. One day at school, Yen was at the school lunchroom trying to eat his breakfast. That day, Yeki seemed upset. She was running around the whole lunchroom speaking with everyone she met. Then he overheard his name being mentioned in the conversation. Three seconds later, Yeki was dashing across to Yen's table, and there she stood next to Yen. Without hesitation, Yen's best friend Chiyo moved aside, allowing Yeki to sit next to Yen. Yen couldn't believe it! Yeki was sitting next to him! He loved her smooth ass crack, and finally, it was now in reach! Yen was rapidly leaking pre-cum like a pump. He couldn't take his breath, let alone think; he just stared at Yeki's cute face like a statue! Then she opened her mouth and said...Yeki: Well then, we need to fix it, won't we? Yeki sat on top of Yen's legs, which were laid on the sofa. "Let's see what's inside!" said Yeki with a smile and started to unbutton his pants. Yen was shocked! But he was turned on so much! He couldn't speak! Just then, Yeki lowered Yen's zipper and pushed down the pants. "Wow, Yen!" said Yeki, "you are leaking like you are peeing! Holy crap! Yen! Three sets of underwear! You leak this much!?!" Yen couldn't speak! He nodded "Yes". Yeki then grabbed his cock through the wet underwear and squeezed it. Yen had never been touched by anyone else! He couldn't believe his dream girl just squeezed his cock! Yen was tense, stressed, and turned on to the max! His hips buckled, and he squirmed as he had a huge orgasm! His entire body twitched and stretched! Yeki noticed what was happening! She kept squeezing Yen's cock as he went into an earth-shattering orgasm! Yeki noticed how he came like a compressed air can! It was endless! For three minutes, Yen's body twitched and squirmed as he came uncontrollably. He couldn't even breathe correctly, and he blacked out. Yeki kept squeezing Yen's cock throughout his orgasm! Yen couldn't believe it! He had never cum like this. After three minutes, the orgasm subsided, and Yen took deep breaths to compensate for the air loss. Yeki: Oh, Yen! You are amazing. And look! You're still horny, aren't you? Are you really that attracted to me? Yen couldn't speak! He was still recovering from the orgasm. So he nodded "Yes". "Wow, Yen, you're so cute!" as she said it, Yeki laid on top of Yen and started to fiddle with his hair. Yen was again really horny! Yeki started to kiss him, and as she kissed, she grabbed Yen's cock through his cum and pre-cum-soaked underwear and squeezed it! Yen opened his eyes really wide! He squirmed, stretched, and twitched helplessly as he went into a second earth-shattering orgasm! This time, Yeki supplied air through her nose to Yen's mouth through the kiss! Yen trembled and buckled on the sofa with Yeki on top of him! For an amazing four and a half minutes of endless orgasm! Yeki kept kissing and kissing non-stop! And she kept squeezing Yen's cock through the soaked underwear as Yen slipped into another and another orgasm! Orgasm after orgasm, Yen was cumming like crazy! He couldn't stop himself! After a total of seven orgasms non-stop, Yeki got up. Yen couldn't even move a finger. Yen was still hard! All his underwear was soaked, and still, he kept leaking pre-cum! He also noticed a huge wet spot on Yeki's uniform pants! He knew it! She had also cum! It was like a dream! Yen just stared at Yeki like a statue! "Wow, that was really fun," said Yeki. "I can't believe you can cum that much! Are you still leaking?" Asked Yeki. Yen nodded "Yes". "Woah! We are going to have a really fun time then," said Yeki with another big smile. Now Yen laid there, bound with whole underwear sets soaked so much that a pool of juice had formed on the sofa! Yeki took a pair of scissors and cut the zip tie that tied Yen's feet. Then she removed his shoes, socks, and slid the school uniform trousers. "Up you go," said Yeki as she pushed Yen up to a sitting position. His hands were sore and still bound. Yeki took a cup of tea and slowly made Yen drink it! "You must need a lot of liquid!" After around eight cups, the jug was empty. "Ok, let's get washed up! But first, wait," said Yeki as she got up and left Yen sitting on the sofa in the puddle of cum with only his underwear. Yen was, however, too busy to notice the puddle as he was too busy looking at the tight ass of Yeki. Yeki returned with a collar. "You're forever mine!" as she said it, she sat on Yen's lap, and his cock throbbed and throbbed like crazy and leaked globs of pre-cum. She placed the collar around Yen. Then she connected a leash to it. "Come on," she said, and Yen got up and followed her to the bathroom. The tub was filled with water. "Now you can't wash yourself, so I'm going to wash you," said Yeki. "Now let's get these off," as she started to unbutton Yen's school uniform shirt and remove it. Yeki then went back and said, "Ooh, you look so sexy! Standing there in your underwear!" then she came back close and bent down. "Ok, here goes everything!" said Yeki as she pulled down Yen's soaking and cum-dripping sets of underwear all at once. Immediately, his cock bounced, throbbed, and dripped four drops of pre-cum on the tiled toilet floor. "Oh my! What a wonderful cock! Your nuts are still full, aren't they! Wow, just wow!!" said Yeki. "Goodness! What a big bubble butt you have! Shame you don't display it! We will just have to find a solution to your pre-cum problem! Anyway, now get in the tub and lie down," as Yen laid down in the water-filled tub. As the cold water touched Yen's cock, it deflated. Yeki used soap and shampoo to clean Yen, and afterwards, Yeki instructed Yen to get up, and Yen did. Yen immediately got turned on as she started to wipe him dry, and his cock throbbed, and drops of pre-cum dribbled out. "Oh, come on! You're one cute, horny boy, Yen!" she said. Yen was unable to comment on anything. All naked and with a huge cock sticking out, Yeki walked Yen to her bedroom. "Ok, listen," she said, "Yen, your pre-cum needs to stop. I know a doctor who can help. I'll go meet him and get some medication for you. Ok?" Yen didn't know what to say; he was just staring at Yeki. "Right, let's make sure you don't wander off, shall we!" With that, she took three tightening straps and held Yen against a pillar in her room and tied him to it. The first strap went around his nipples, the second around the crotch (behind Yen's cock), and the third went around his feet. Yen was very excited by this, and his cock began to throb. Just then, Yeki placed a toilet bowl on the floor directly below Yen's cock so his pre-cum drops didn't land on the floor. "Ok! Bye, Yen! Stand tight!" said Yeki with a giggle and closed the room door. After what seemed like forever, Yeki returned! As she opened the door, Yen glared at her, and immediately, his cock responded with dribbling of pre-cum. Yeki came close to Yen and told, "Guess what! The doctor gave you a medicine!" Just then, without any warning, Yeki punched an injection into Yen's left arm and injected the drug. Yen moaned in pain, but he was excited and kept dripping pre-cum. "Ok, that should take care of the pre-cum problem," said Yeki. She continued, "And here is a new gadget I got from the Sex Toy shop! (Yen raised an eyebrow). It's a mind control unit! Don't worry, it will only allow me to control when you orgasm, cum, and get hard! Nice, isn't it!" Yen stared at Yeki in shock! Just then, he noticed that even though his cock throbbed, he wasn't leaking any pre-cum! Next thing he knew, Yeki was holding a gun to the side of his head, just below his ear, and it popped. Yen tried to scream, but he felt a wonderful tingling sensation throughout his body instead of pain, so he couldn't. "Welcome to my world," said Yeki with a sexy tone. "Ok, I'm going to deny your ability to enjoy yourself now, because you're my cute little boy," and pressed a button on the remote and touched Yen's cock. Yen felt like going over the edge, but he just couldn't! With another press of a button, Yen's cock deflated as if he was no longer turned on! But he was! He just couldn't have an orgasm or become hard! He was confused! He felt like he was going to explode! He started to moan and squirm like a fish out of water. Yeki stopped and untied Yen from the pillar and removed his collar. Yeki said, "Here are your clothes, get dressed," and sat down on the bed and watched. Yen scrambled through the clothes and looked at Yeki in question, and for the first time, spoke: Yen: Where is my underwear? And these uniform pants have a cum stain on them! Yeki: Underwear? Why do you need underwear? You aren't leaking pre-cum anymore! And you aren't getting hard! Yen looked in surprise. Yen: But people will see my crack! And my bulge, Yeki, I feel vulnerable! Yeki: Come on, your bubble butt needs some display! And the bulge, well, just learn to live with it. Get dressed! Hurry up, it's getting very late! Yen looked disappointed and a bit scared, after all, the clock read 11:45 PM, and a 17-year-old walking the streets this late with a big butt display was scary. Yeki: One more thing, NEVER EVER AGAIN will you wear any underwear or anything under the pants you wear, or remove that collar! Yen: But, but, what if I wear an expensive suit? Yeki: NO MEANS NO! I don't care if you wear transparent clothes! NOTHING should be underneath!! Your crack must be visible at all times, or I'll blow your head off! Yen looked in shock! Yeki: Yes, that's right! That implant in your head can be set off! No one would even know how you died! But Yen, I love you, you are my cute boy, please don't disappoint me, please. See this indicator? This tells me if you're wearing anything underneath. Don't let this bulb turn red. Yen: Ok, I won't. Yen left Yeki's place and started to virtually run back to his house. A few men on the road eyed him from time to time, but Yen didn't stop until he got inside the house. After a wordy confrontation with his parents, Yen washed up and got into his pajamas and crawled into his bed. He still couldn't believe if this is reality he was in. The girl of his life was now truly the girl of his life! He touched himself and tried hard! He was seriously horny and couldn't even sleep! But it was hopeless. Yen's room alarm went off, and he got up, all ready for school. He got his clothes and dressed up! For the first time in his life, he got dressed in just 4 minutes! Because of the lack of the need to have underwear and toilet paper! He got on the bus and was on his way to school. He saw Yeki, and both smiled at each other.When Yen got out of the bus, some boys who didn't have girlfriends (who were obviously gay) looked at Yen as if an angel had come. Yen's deep ass crack was so enticing to the gay boys that they were drooling. Just then, Yeki came and gave Yen a small kiss in public and waved goodbye on her way to her class building. Seeing this, the gay boys were disappointed and went back to their chat. Chiyo, who is Yen's best friend, observed the whole thing and came running to Yen. "Wow, man! One day and you're all in! Eh?" said Chiyo. "Yeah," said Yen. Just then, the bell rang, and they ran into class. Yen sat next to Chiyo as always. Around ten minutes into the first period, he was writing some dictation when he suddenly had a tingling sensation! A few seconds later, he was going to go over the edge! He looked down, but his cock was not hard! He was going to have an orgasm, and his cock was not hard! His arms couldn't write anymore! He lost control of himself and shuddered into a huge orgasm. He was really scared, but the cum, to his surprise, was a dry orgasm! For a whole minute, he jerked in his seat! Chiyo was looking at Yen, and Yen knew it; Yen looked at Chiyo with dimmed eyes. Just as the first orgasm subsided, another occurred. For a whole 10 minutes, Yen orgasmed and orgasmed, jerking and squirming in his chair. Chiyo knew Yen was having an orgasm, but he did not understand why he was having so many without even touching himself. This is when the teacher realized Yen wasn't doing anything! "YEN," the teacher shouted. Noticing the trouble he could be in, Yen started to act as if he was writing in the middle of the orgasm and tried to control his squirming to some extent; Yen was in pleasure land! The class continued, and throughout the period, Yen kept having orgasm after orgasm endlessly. When the first period ended, the orgasm suddenly stopped! The next teacher came in, and Yen got the next book, and again, after 10 minutes into the period, Yen had orgasm after orgasm! This continued, and when class was over, it was lunchtime. At the lunch table, Chiyo asked Yen, "Dude, what the heck happened to you?" Yen: "Nothing!" Chiyo: "Yen, don't lie to me, buddy. I'm also a guy; I damn well know when someone else is having an orgasm. It's okay, but the problem is, dude, you had so many non-stop! How did you do that? And you're also not wearing any underwear today, aren't you?" Yen: "It's Yeki's work!" Chiyo: "Owwwww, she placed one of those mind control things, eh?" Yen: "Yeah, how didn't you know?" Chiyo: "I'm also having one! My girl, however, doesn't use it in school, though." Yen: "Lucky you!" Chiyo: "Better be careful, mate. If she pulls it off in wet mode, you're gonna be needing new pants." The rest of the time at school was uneventful. Yen met Yeki just outside the school, and Yeki wanted to have a walk home. Yen agreed. As they entered an abandoned alleyway, Yeki secretly pressed the button. Yen started to cum and orgasm while he was walking; Yen couldn't walk anymore, he kneeled on the ground and started to moan as a huge wet patch grew in the front of his pants. Yeki: "Honey, you are going to have to learn to live with orgasms! Come on, get up and walk to that phone booth. It's only like 100 meters away. I'm not going to turn off this unit until you call me from that phone. It's getting late, I'm going. I'm sure you will be shooting blanks soon because your body is going to run out of fluid." She placed her piece of paper with her mobile number in Yen's back pocket and rubbed his bubble butt, saying, "Bye! Sweetie." Becoming aware of his situation, Yen managed to make a sentence with his mouth while his cock throbbed and throbbed, shooting tons of cum in orgasm after orgasm! Yen: "Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaseeeeee OHOH oOOOOOOOOOOOOOH.! Dooooo ntttt LEEAAAAVEEEEEEE MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE LIK Oooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhh THIS! Oh oh oh oh." But Yeki walked away as if she didn't hear. Around an hour later, Yen was breathing from his mouth while he moaned and moaned.... His pants were drenched in cum, and a puddle was formed on the ground. He soon realized he was very thirsty and was shooting blanks. Unable to stop the orgasms, he knew his only chance was to get up and make that call. After many tries amidst mind-blowing orgasms, Yen managed to get on his two feet. By then, another hour had passed. Yen was helpless! The sheer feeling made him hard. He wobbled foot by foot, slowly making his way towards the telephone booth. Finally, he got the hang of it a bit and managed to get to the phone booth. He quickly got the telephone number and called. The phone answered, and Yen started shouting, "I'M HERE!!!" but he was shocked to find that it was a voicemail box.. the recording was done by Yeki.. it said, "Well, Sweetie, it looks like you made it this far. But I'm disappointed to tell you that you took too long! So you need a punishment! There is a bag behind this booth! It's got a bottle of water; drink it wisely because you are going to walk home having orgasms!! Wet ones! If you drink water! The Alley path should be clear, Sweetie, hehehe, bye!" Yen actually liked what Yeki was doing to him! He was in pleasure wonderland! He rubbed himself to a voluntary orgasm in the middle of the orgasms he had! Yen started walking and got the bottle! He was dying of thirst! He drank some water and started to walk home slowly. Around 10 minutes into the walk, he again started to have wet orgasms, which again stained his pants. Yen was lucky because the hot humidity, the nylon pants quickly dried up. After around an hour, he reached home and sneaked in the backdoor into his bedroom and fell onto his bed, exhausted. By now, he didn't moan for the orgasms. He rubbed and rubbed himself non-stop, doubling the number of orgasms he was having!! He recalled Yeki's number, but she didn't pick up, but suddenly, the orgasms stopped, and his boner remained! He felt the need to wank like nothing! He started to rub himself through his school uniform pants, but he just couldn't reach orgasm!! He ran downstairs and drank two bottles of water, thinking it was the lack of water, but still, he was very, very, very horny but couldn't orgasm! He wanted to orgasm! He was sweating! His hand was hurting from the rubbing! Till 8:00 PM, he tried his best; he even humped his pillow! He was going mad because he just didn't reach orgasm!! He went for dinner! He couldn't eat much! He ate while opening and closing his legs, keeping his rock-hard cock between the thighs, simulating it. But he just didn't reach orgasm! He was about to cry. At around 10:30 PM, he dialed Yeki's number, and she answered! Yeki: "Having fun, Sweetie?" Yen: "PLEASE!! PLEASE, YEKI!! I NEED TO CUM!! I NEED TO ORGASM!!" But suddenly, Yen felt his need and urge increase! He couldn't help it! He started to rub himself while he was on the phone! Yen: "What are you doing!?!? Stop it! Please! I'm going to go crazy!! Let me orgasm!!!" Yeki: "Why?! Why should I let you orgasm?" Yen: "Uh... because I want to!! I have to! I need to! Please, Yeki, don't do this to me!!" Yeki: "You know... I'm really horny when you're begging like this! Anyhow, I don't think you deserve an orgasm! Or an end to this horny mode, hmm!" Yen: "Please, Yeki, don't do this to me! I'll do anything! Anything!! Just tell me!!" Yeki: "Anything?!" Yen: "Yes!! Anything!! Please!!" Yeki: "Do you own any jeans?" Yen: "Yes! Lots!" Yeki: "What's your current size?" Yen: "32 inches." Yeki: "Do you own a pair of jeans below 28 inches?" Yen: "Well, yes, I have a very old 27! But it's very old!!" Yeki: "Nice! Wear those jeans without any underwear! With a red-colored t-shirt and start walking towards the alley outside." Yen: "But but!! They are too tight!!" Yeki: "No buts! Get your butt inside those tight jeans now! DO IT!" Yeki kept the phone! Yen was excited! He immediately got the old pair and started to dress! It was very hard, but he made it! His ass was so firm, cut, and shown as he was naked. His cock bulged in the tight jeans. He was still horny, and he rubbed himself! But he still didn't reach orgasm! He wore the red t-shirt and immediately sneaked out the back door to the alley. As he was walking, someone came behind him and grabbed him by the neck. As Yen struggled, the second hand of the stranger went down and rubbed his rock-hard, throbbing cock! In just three rubs, Yen went into an earth-shattering orgasm! He could feel his cum shooting and wetting his denim jeans! As he took large breaths, he noticed the stranger placed a cloth over his mouth and nose. Yen knew what it was! And who it was! Yen fell asleep. Yen woke up! He was in a basement with clearly padded walls. He was confused because his view kept changing. He felt like falling off! But he didn't! His entire body felt tight, as if someone was sucking on each and every muscle of his body! He was naked! Spread Eagled! Horny as hell!! But yet covered by something which was really comfortable! His mouth had a tube in it. Yen was now fully conscious. Yen figured out he was rotating! Rotating vertically! He heard some footsteps! Yeki appeared into his view! Yeki: "Well, well, someone is up, I see! Sweetie, is it comfortable?" Yen: "Yes, can you stop it from rotating? It's really annoying!" Yeki sat down on the chair in front of Yen and widened her legs. She started to rub her pussy through her jeans. She had the remote in her other hand while rubbing herself. Yeki: "Well, it helps to regulate the blood in your body! Since you are never going to move again, hehe!" (started to rub herself faster!) Yen: "What do you mean!?!" Yeki: "Well, you are in a new state-of-the-art vacuum bed; you will never leave it again, Sweetie! You stay in that bed forever and ever!"You will take your last breath in that vacuum bed when you're old! (kept rubbing herself faster). The question is, do you want it??! Yen: Are you crazy!! My family! Mom, Dad!!! School!! My life!! Yeki: You're mine now, Yen! And forever!! They will think you're kidnapped! But they will never find you! Soon they will think you're dead! Yen was confused! He liked the idea! He was so horny! Yeki pressed a button, and Yen's urge to cum increased by ten times!! Yen knew what he wanted!! Yen: YEEESSSS!!! YEKI!! YYYESSS!!! Yeki pressed the button on the remote, and Yen came and came, shooting gallons of cum in the vacuum bed, which auto-cleaned itself. Seeing Yen squirm in orgasm, Yeki also shuddered into an orgasm, wetting her jeans! Yeki brought the remote close to Yen. He could see Yeki putting it to infinite cum mode! She pressed OK! She threw the remote on the ground! She started to rub Yen's cock through the vacuum bed with one hand! And with the other hand, she rubbed her pussy! She squashed the remote and broke it into pieces as both of them shuddered into an orgasm together! Don't worry! You will never stop cumming! The tube will give you all the liquid and food to do so! With drenched jeans, Yeki left the view of Yen. Yen was happy! He knew!! He was going to be in a world of pleasure FOR LIFE! -The END If you Enjoyed the Story, Send Feedback to: fetishboy1990@gmail.	null	null	Authors/feitshboy1990/Yen-and-Yeki.txt
85,734	NightShade	Cindy's New Friends	Yesterday evening, Cindy had accepted Mary's job offer to be her new assistant trainer at the kennels. Mary hadn't explained in detail what her duties would be, but she was excited to be going to work for such an extraordinary woman. The offer had been irresistible to the young girl. Cindy didn't even know how much money she would be making, but she knew she would be OK. She liked Mary and trusted her. She sensed they were very much alike. This morning, she was on her way to the library to give her resignation to Mrs. Cross. She was looking forward to getting away from the shriveled old bitch. Although Mrs. Cross had never said anything terrible to her, Cindy sensed no kindness in her. She felt she was a very mean person inside. As she rode towards town, Cindy thought back on the previous day, especially last night. Her heart thrilled as she thought of Brutus waiting for her at home. She had been strapped on the bench for hours, delirious with one pounding climax after another. Her attentive lover had kept every cell of her body from head to toe stimulated. When he had finally helped her release herself from her bonds, she had floated to the bed hours after her normal bedtime. They had slept side by side last night, his fur rubbing and stimulating her sensitive flesh all night long, giving her the most erotic dreams. It was as if she had climaxed the entire night. His tongue had bathed her tits in the morning, waking her with her first orgasm of the day. She hadn't known she could come just by having her boobs licked, but then, she thought, "you'd have to feel that wonderful tongue." Sensing his Mistress' arousal and climax, Brutus had politely invited her over to the fuck-bench again, anxious to please his Mistress again. She had responded beyond his expectations last night. He was anxious to show her how pleased he was with her. When she did not move to the padded bench, he prodded her legs apart and cleaned up the fluids leaking out. This stimulation pushed her up over a higher climax and she grasped the headboard and arched her back, pushing her crotch into his working mouth. Wearily Cindy had pushed him away and gotten ready for work. Brutus' hurt eyes stayed with her as she got ready. She had finally had to tell him to 'SIT/STAY' so she could get dressed. He had slavered over her tits, ass and cunt until she could hardly think straight. He was very good with his tongue. Thinking about her dog, his talented tongue, his hot hard cock and all of the sexy things she had done yesterday made her pussy wet. The horn of the bicycle saddle pushed her panties tightly up against her clit and Cindy orgasmed lightly all the way to the library. She had put them on in an attempt to control herself, but it wasn't working. It was with shaky knees that she walked up the stairs to the office of the head librarian. She had hand-written her letter of resignation and two-week notice last night. Timidly she knocked on the door. "Come in," came the response. Pushing on the door Cindy walked in and silently handed the paper to Mrs. Cross. She had only been in this room once before, and as she looked around, she noticed some pictures she had not seen before. On her desk, Mrs. Cross had a picture of a beautiful dog. A Doberman, if Cindy remembered her breeds. Somehow, the dog fit the old lady. It was dark and cramped in the office, barely enough room for the small desk and a visitor's chair. There were some strange sticks in the corner next to the video monitor. Some of them looked like bamboo, some of them were more like willow branches, and one of them was black and shiny and real long, like a highly polished leather stick. The sight of those objects started a strange twisting of perverse excitement in Cindy's gut. Mrs. Cross, following Cindy's intense gaze, grinned evilly. "So, you're leaving us. We'll miss you, of course. I assume you have another position?" she queried, although she already knew the answer. She had seen clips of the tapes of Cindy's experience with the Saddle and the ones with Max and Brutus. She also knew just how Mary wanted Cindy to spend her last two weeks: Up in the special room. "I know you're probably anxious to start your new job, but I will have to insist that you stay for the entire two weeks until we can find a replacement for you. I have a special project for you to work on that should take just about that long. OK?" Cindy breathed a silent sigh of relief. Mary has said the head librarian would probably want her to stay the two weeks and Cindy needed the money. Besides, she wanted one more chance to get back into the room upstairs. That's why she couldn't believe her ears as old Mrs. Cross told her of the special assignment. "I want you to go through the equipment in the room on the fourth floor and make sure that everything is in working order," she said. "We're having a special fund raiser next month and everything needs to be just right for the dignitaries," she continued. Cindy's mind raced. Two whole weeks! It was more than she could have hoped for. She wouldn't have to sneak up there. Two weeks! Her heart pounding, she asked, "Should I start today?" "Right now," Mrs. Cross replied, then added curtly, "You're dismissed." Cindy turned and left the room. She took two normal steps and then, with a skip, literally ran all the way to the heavy door leading up to the fourth floor, unlocked it and dashed up the last set of stairs. The door closed silently behind her, the oiled lock clicking into place and sealing her into the soundproofed room. She twirled like a little girl in a doll store, hugging her arms to her chest. "Where to start?" she asked herself. As she thought about Mrs. Cross' assignment, a puzzled frown crossed her face. "I'm supposed to make sure all the equipment is 'in working order.' I guess that means I'll have to try it out." A wicked giggle erupted as she thought of the Saddle in the other part of the room. "I know that works OK, but I'll have to try it again later, just to make sure. But I wonder what else is in here to check out?" Cindy began a methodical search through the entire floor. This space was actually larger than she had thought at first, covering the entire top floor of the building. There were many small recessed private areas like the one with the Saddle, each with its own centerpiece or theme, although she didn't understand what a lot of them were for. Cindy still had not noticed the cameras, and probably would have dismissed them as being for security purposes anyway. After she had made a complete tour of the floor, Cindy stood in the center and turned around slowly. Some of the furnishings in the alcoves puzzled her. They were clearly restraints of some kind, and Cindy was not sure how she would test them out. There was that one piece in the back corner that had caught her eye. She made her way back to that area and stood looking at the large strange piece. "That's obviously where you sit, facing that way," she analyzed. And if she leaned forward, her tits would rest in those rubber-looking cone things, although they looked kind of small for her boobs. She giggled with an excited nervousness. Looking closer at the seat she noticed two empty holes along the centerline. Underneath the seat was an assortment of hard rubber pieces, each resembling various sized penises. She selected two mid-sized, but still rather large, artificial cocks. Bending down she saw the slots they obviously fit into, and fitted and locked them into place. The double dildos underneath the seat pointed up at the two holes in the seat. A series of clamps and electrical connections held the sinister looking double dongs in place. The mushrooming heads were already coated with a thick lubricant, but she couldn't imagine why.A flexible tube ended in a pair of cuffs that were obviously meant for her wrists, although Cindy noted that they would have to be behind her back to fit in them. Remembering the way she had been cuffed at Sheffield Estates, Cindy shivered with excitement. The red button on one of the cuffs must be the 'ON' switch. A curved bar above where her head would be would move down and hold her chest tight against the rubber cones. Looking forward, she saw a smooth cup where her chin would rest. That strange protrusion would have to go into her mouth, and those straps would go around her head. Cindy realized she would be quite immobile once she had everything fastened down, and the thought of being so restrained made the juices flow in her already hot pussy. The other parts of the device didn't concern her right now, she thought. There was just a stiff leather strap on either side behind the machine, under the chest area there were some suction tubes and rollers, and then that stringy leather thing hanging back behind her. There were also mirrors at odd angles positioned over, under, and all around the device. "Well, I might as well get started," she said, as she clinically started to remove her clothes. "I guess I'll need to be completely undressed for this one." Mrs. Cross watched Cindy's movements from the video monitor in her office. Disappointment clouded her wrinkled face. "Well, I can't use my babies this time," she thought, glancing over to the whips and crops Cindy had not recognized. "But soon. Soon." She grinned evilly as she saw Cindy start to strap herself into the menacing device. "It's a killer machine, my dear," she called out to Cindy silently. "And you'll soon know why." Cindy had settled herself into the broad seat. The design of the chair separated her ass cheeks widely, exposing her tightly puckered anal opening. Her knees were well spread on each side of the massive center console. Leaning first to one side and then the other, Cindy fastened the heavy canvas straps with the Velcro tabs tightly over her calves and thighs. The tabs fit through D rings and cinched down firmly. Wiggling her butt to fit her bottom securely against the hard seat, she leaned forward. Arching her back so she could see better, she pushed her chin against her throat so she could observe as first one tit and then the other pressed into the rubber cones. The tough elastic squeezed them firmly but gave little by little as she continued to lean forward and finally pushed her breasts completely into the cups. Finally, they were completely seated in the restricting cones. She looked up and saw the fat phallic plug right in front of her lips. Opening her mouth wide, she tried to get the huge chunk into her mouth. It strained her jaws, but she finally got the plug into her mouth. Her lips formed a tightly stretched "O" around the base of the gag, and the hard rubber filled her oral cavity completely, nudging her tonsils in the back. Reaching up and around her head, she awkwardly got the restraining straps over her head and fastened them tight. "I'm glad these are Velcro," she thought, "That makes it easier." Looking out for the first time, she noticed the oddly positioned mirrors that allowed her to see herself from all sides, even though she couldn't move her head at all. She saw the tight rubber cones hugging her tits like a second skin. Her smooth white ass was perched on the broad seat. The tube with the wrist cuffs rested lightly at the small of her back. She reached behind her for the wrist cuffs. Struggling to get first one hand in and then the other, she noticed that the cuffs rotated independently. Finally ready, she stopped for a minute to wonder if she wanted to actually turn the strange machine on. She looked at all her reflections in the mirrors. "It seems to be in OK order," she thought. "Maybe I should get out now. But no, Mrs. Cross had said to make sure it was in working order. That means I'll have to try it out." With that thought, Cindy fumbled for the button on the wrist cuffs and switched it on. The first thing that happened was a slight vibration in the center console. The powerful little air pump that ran all of the various pneumatic devices on the machine began humming nicely. "It tickles," giggled Cindy. First, the powerful pump inflated the wrist cuffs and secured them behind her back. "Well, it seems to be working. I guess I can turn it off now." She grabbed at the button and pushed it again. The little pump just kept humming. "Darn," Cindy thought. "I'll just have to wait it out." While she had been struggling for the button, the overhead bar lowered and fitted over the tops of her shoulders. It continued to push her down until she was firmly pushed into the rubber cups and against the hard seat. The bar kept her back completely bare while still holding her firmly in place. Cindy shivered with a little dread, knowing it was too late to do anything. But even with her fear, her cunt began to water with the illicit thrill of the unknown. The double dildos Cindy had selected and installed were the next mechanisms activated. Advancing together, both heads burrowed into their targeted openings. Cindy winced as her rectum was invaded for the first time. The heavy-duty lubrication on the head of the solid prick helped a little, but it still hurt. The pain was intense at first, but the feeling of being filled up front and rear made her wiggle her impaled butt as best she could, facilitating the entry of the persistent intruders. Her anal ring was stretched tight by the girth of the shaft. The double dongs advanced slowly but persistently until they were fully imbedded in both her front and rear holes. Momentarily silent, Cindy heard a soft click as the machine went into the next mode. The dildos began to vibrate and squirm inside her. A screw mechanism inside each of the shafts moved the heads up and down into her rectum and vagina independently, thoroughly fucking her. They built up speed until her breath was coming in short fast gasps. The feeling was glorious, and she was going to come soon. Another soft click told Cindy that something else was going to happen. She felt a tugging at her nipples and noticed for the first time the tubes that were attached to the tips of the elastic cones that held her tits captive. Any remaining air was being sucked out of the spaces between her tits and the rubber cones. Her nipples were sucked into enlarged openings at the tips of the cones. The low pressure caused by the suction made the rosy tips swell to enormous size. They were engorged with blood, sensitized, and very painful. Once the suction was well established, the tubes retracted downward, pulling firmly on the cones along with her trapped tits, down and out to the sides. Her beautiful orange-shaped tits had become elongated cones with enormous nipples. She stared in wonder at the strange sight. If it wasn't for the wondrous fucking she was getting, she would have thought the person in the chair was someone else. After her tits had been stretched to their almost painful maximum length, the hard seat she was seated on folded up and moved away from her creamy ass. The result of this was to leave her essentially exposed from the backs of her thighs all the way to her shoulders. Only her cuffed hands lay across her back. As she gazed at her reflection, she was excited by the sight of her creamy white flesh against the dark coloring of the machine and the dark colors in the room. It seemed as if she was just floating in the middle of the room, supported only by twin surging thick poles that disappeared up her twin holes. Her abdomen was bare to the point where the band of rubber from the cones began just below her tits. Her head was fastened securely by the straps to the frame, and the rubber plug in her mouth filled it so full that her cheeks were stretched out. Cindy was beginning to get extremely excited by her situation. The discomfort had faded and was more than compensated for by the constant stimulation in her cunt and asshole. She began to drift into a euphoric state. Her mind was clouded with sexual tension and the constantly building explosions in her loins. She was completely relaxed and almost didn't hear the next soft click. "Oh, goody," she giggled. "How can it get any better than this?" She had begun to instinctively suck on the huge phallic gag almost from the beginning of her ride and was further excited now to feel it begin to pulse and surge like the ones plugging her down below. The gag slowly pushed against her tonsils until it forced its way slowly down her throat. Her head had been forced back at an angle to give the advancing prick a straight shot down her gullet. Suddenly, Cindy tensed when she found she couldn't breathe with the thick shaft blocking her windpipe. The veins in her neck bulged, and she started to struggle violently. For the first time, she was afraid, really afraid. The machine had total control of her. It was going to kill her! She felt her throat constricting, trying to expel the foreign object. Her stomach regurgitated emptily in an effort to force the blockage from her windpipe. She was almost to the state of blacking out when the screw mechanism reversed itself, and sweet, sweet air flowed into her bursting lungs. Breathing deeply, Cindy focused on the rhythm of the cock in her mouth. It was regular. She would be able to time her breathing so she wouldn't suffocate. Relaxing, she would have breathed a sigh of relief, except the fat head of latex had stopped up her windpipe again. After several minutes of total control by the machine over her very ability to breathe, Cindy again, to her amazement, found a perverse pleasure in this control over her. She had so longed for independence, and to be on her own, and yet she was experiencing such wonderful sexual responses in being helpless.Maybe it was because she had done it to herself, albeit unknowingly. Or maybe it was because she simply got off on all kinds of sexual stimulation. Cindy's mind was again fuzzing up, now that she had regulated her breathing. The euphoria was quickly returning, and the last click had gone unnoticed. The tube connected to the wrist cuffs began to retract towards her head, pulling her hands slowly up across her back. At first, she didn't notice, but soon the pain in her elbows made the panic rise in her again. By twisting her arms in, she was able to relieve the strain somewhat, but the tube kept pulling her arms higher. Wincing from the discomfort, she was able to twist her forearms a little more, and the pressure abated somewhat. "Thank God I wore dresses with zippers as a girl, or my arms would be torn off!" she thought. Looking in the mirror, she was amazed to see that her arms were completely clear of her back, with her wrists pulled up even with the back of her neck. Her fingers, when she wiggled them, could play with the errant strands of hair that escaped the straps holding her head in place. Cindy waited for the next click, but even she knew there was no more the machine could do to rearrange her. That thought filled her with a kind of tingling dread. What would happen next? Anything? Nothing? Cindy waited patiently. She had no other options really. The overall discomfort of her position was fading to nothing that mattered as the orgasmic spasms she had experienced earlier returned. Again, she relaxed, giving in to the will of the machine. Whether she activated a switch then, or what, she never knew. All she knew was that the rhythm and speed of the three cocks plunging in and out of her changed. The pace picked up, and then picked up again. She had to breathe quicker, and the cocks in her cunt and asshole swelled from their large size to a huge size. Their combined actions had pushed her to ecstatic levels, and she screamed into the gag in total pleasure. The first caresses of the soft leather didn't reach above her subconscious awareness. The large hanging leather apparatus in the back had started spinning, much like the brushes in a car wash. Spinning slowly at first, the extra-soft leather straps merely brushed her skin. The large multi-thonged whip began to move along the axis of her body, bringing the straps softly into contact with her right thigh. It then moved slowly up towards her head so that the entire right side of her body was massaged by the softly slapping straps. Moving over to the other side, the machine positioned itself above her left shoulder and then proceeded down to the area behind her left knee. Then it reversed its spin direction, catching the exposed areas of her abdomen and latex-covered breasts as the straps swung up from underneath. Cindy had caught the motion of the rotating whip out of the corner of her glazed eyes before she noticed the slight slaps of the leather against her skin. She had never seen a modern car wash, so she didn't giggle at the sight. But the slow, ponderous movement of the spinning wheel fascinated her. Staring at the wheel as it started its cycle over, she missed the cruel-looking rollers that were being raised towards her now very tender tits. The first touch of the paired rollers on the sensitive sides of each elongated boob made her gasp into the thick plug in her mouth. Looking down, she saw two rollers on each tit, softly squeezing the tit between them. The rollers spun around the axis of the breast, milking the bloated mammary from the nipple to the base and back down again. Each time the rollers spun down to her nipples, the pressure would increase, and the rollers would screw back up around her tits again. Cindy was delirious. The new conflicting sensations were bombarding her brain, pleasure shorting out the pain, pain making the pleasure unbearably good. Her whole sense of sensation was wacky. The whipping wheel was also speeding up with each circuit. The slapping of the soft leather straps was now a bit harder. The soft leather straps had the effect of bringing the blood to the surface of the skin. The repeated soft blows had a numbing effect that allowed harder and harder strokes to be accepted by the bound girl, apparently without feeling a corresponding increase in the pain. In fact, the gradual build-up of the lashes had a similar effect to a deep muscle massage. It was, in a sense, a relaxing ordeal, and Cindy was relaxing and enjoying the sounds of the slapping straps. Gradually, the straps began to pick up the moisture from her sweating body, and that added to the stinging stimulation. All of the exposed skin along her back, thighs, and abdomen was a deep rosy hue that would have frightened her if the build-up had not been so gradual. Meanwhile, the rollers on her suspended tits had not been idle. The pressure on her tender breasts had built up, and the disembodied pain she felt now was because the rollers were at their maximum tension. The distended nipples were almost flattened inside their thin rubber covering as the rollers passed over and around them. The counter-rotating rollers twisted her tits as if they could be screwed off her chest. Never having dated a teenage boy, Cindy had never experienced the rough-handed technique some boys use to turn a girl on that was being reproduced so well by the machine. Most boys never had the chance to perfect the technique the machine employed, however. Cindy's tits felt as full as they ever had, with a heaviness she had never felt. The rollers stopped their movement just as the wheel with the straps stopped beating at her exposed body. The dildos stopped spinning and plunging into her bottom holes. Cindy sat still, wondering what would happen next. The quietness gave her a chance to recoup a little of her sanity. Warily, she looked at the machine in the mirrors. There was something moving into position behind her. A large leather strap, the thick one this time, swung out from behind her and to the left. It landed with a resounding thwack on her left ass cheek. The warmth and force of the blow surprised her. She was even more surprised by her tolerance of that severe a blow. She could already see the deep red stripe on her ass where the blow had landed. A movement in the mirror alerted her to another blow, this time from the right. A feeling of warmth began to suffuse her ass and pussy. Cindy didn't see the first strap swinging back around towards her until it caught her tit broadside. The end of the thick strap wrapped itself almost completely around her rubber-covered boob. Cindy screamed behind her gag, the pain intense, and then, sobbing, realized she had climaxed as hard as she ever had in her short life. The thwack on her right breast confirmed that the first orgasm was not a fluke. "Oh God, I'm a freak," she thought. "I like pain. What will I do?" Giving in to the relentless machine, Cindy closed her eyes and surrendered to the perverted feelings in her young, lust-torn body. The machine continued striking her first on the ass, then on her tits for about ten more minutes, although she had long ago lost sense of time. This beating was the longest and most thorough cycle of the machine, coming at the end of the programmed ride. Most other riders of the machine passed out long before the end. Cindy was conscious and climaxing the whole time. Finally, the machine stopped beating her criss-crossed flesh. A soft hissing sound preceded a sudden loosening of the wrist cuffs. Cindy wiggled her hands free and let her tired arms hang loosely by her side as the blood began to flow in them again. The seat moved back up to support her ass cheeks, and the dual dildos receded, exiting her cunt with a sucking sound and a soft plop as the enlarged head left her gaping anus. She reached up and undid the straps around her head and eased her mouth off the rubber gag. Stretching her sore jaw back and forth to relieve the soreness, she impishly leaned forward and placed a kiss on the tip of the phallic shaft. "Thanks for the ride, boys," she murmured. Gently moving side to side, she extricated her swollen breasts from the rubber cocoons with obscene sucking noises. As they emerged from their confinement, Cindy gaped at their new size. They were huge! She tentatively touched one with her finger. "OOOOOWWWw," she howled. They were sore, too! All that suction inside the rubber cones for that long must have pulled in a lot of extra fluids. Gingerly leaning down, careful not to brush her bloated tits on anything, she loosened the Velcro tabs that held her calves and thighs in place. Freed from the machine at last, Cindy stumbled to a nearby couch. Her last thought before falling into a deep slumber was, "Well, that one works!" Joe was not happy. Even after viewing the tapes of Cindy at the library, he was not happy. He didn't want to have to wait in this backwater town for two weeks. His languid glance at Mary Sheffield masked some of his anger, but Liu knew it was there, nonetheless. His lack of control with this American whore surprised her. That wasn't normal. This girl must be more to him than she had originally thought, but why? It was a puzzle she would have to work out. "Is there any way to speed up the process? Perhaps by helping her yourself?" Joe asked Mary. "You can't rush these things, Mr. Tan. You wouldn't want her to freak out suddenly one night, would you?" His soft smile conceding her argument belied his frustration. But his message had been sent. With a terse bow, Joe and Liu left the estate and went back to the jet. Two weeks is just about right, he thought to himself. He could still make it home for Phoc's birthday celebration. His attendance for this dreaded annual bash was mandatory.	null	Chapter 10	Authors/NightShade/CNF- 10.txt
86,034	null	A Dreamers Watch	You would think by the time you hit 35 years of age your life would be set on a clear path. I mean, I did all the regular stuff a guy is supposed to do: I got married, own a house, 2 cars, etc. But until I found this old wristwatch at the flea market, I hadn't even begun to live. Don't believe a wristwatch could change my life? Well, this is a special watch. I found it in the glass case of an elderly watch repairman. He seemed to know exactly the watch that caught my eye. Before I could even ask, he took it out and handed it to me with a smile. It has a gold case with a white face and black hands and a rugged old leather strap. On the back, it has a simple inscription "For a dreamer." "It will be the last watch you ever consider wearing," said the old man. "I don't know... I've already got three watches, including this Gucci I'm wearing." The old man seemed to be holding back a chuckle. "Gucci never made anything like the watch you're examining. Besides, the watch picked you and it doesn't accept rejection." I tried to ignore the old man's blathering as I stared at this watch. It was made in the 20s and seemed to hold all the hope and energy of that time. "I don't suppose you'd consider..." "A trade?" the old man let go of his chuckle. "Sure I will. Just leave the Gucci on the table and we'll call it even." It was like the old man was reading my mind. I slipped off the Gucci without a thought and strapped on my new antique. As I buckled the clasp, I felt a tingling in my wrist. I extended my arm to admire my purchase. It looked and felt so right. I didn't ask for a receipt, I was so caught up in the moment. I headed out to my car. I felt so charged up and happy. The entire drive home, I kept admiring my new watch as I steered the car. I couldn't imagine how good I was going to feel in a little while. CHAPTER: 1.2 The Mini Market Before I got home, I had some things to pick up at the market. I stopped at my local Mini Market and got out to fill the car with gas. As I began to pump the gas, I noticed a young girl at the next pump. She looked barely 18 and was still wearing her high school cheer uniform, obviously on her way home from practice. The 2-piece white uniform with navy blue and gold trim really caught my eye. Her legs were bare and smooth as silk. Her shiny white tennis shoes lit up the evening, and her tiny socks with the little blue and yellow ball at the heel were the perfect topping. Her hair was cut in a short bob and was thick and gorgeous. It didn't hurt that this petite blonde had a nice rack as well. I swear I don't remember any blonde cheerleaders with full C cups and tight little bods at my school. As she pumped her gas, she twisted and faced me. She wore a light pink lipstick and little else in the way of makeup. She was the all-American cheerleader dream. I stared like a deer caught in the headlights. I could see a tiny gap between the top and the skirt. Being a big fan of the sexy flat stomach, I couldn't help but wish that her top didn't come down so far and that her skirt were riding much lower. I felt a tingle in my wrist, and suddenly this cheerleader was exposing her gorgeous abs to me. Her top now came just below her breasts, and her skirt was riding so low you could see her hip bones. What a beautiful sight! There is nothing that quite turns me on as much as seeing the parts and curves of a woman's hips. And this girl was HOT! Before I could even take in this sight fully, I wished again. This time I wanted to see her turn around with a skirt that was full 2 inches too short to cover. She turned, and I saw the most gorgeous firm ass cheeks peeking out from under her tiny cheer skirt. She wore a white thong instead of the "cheer panties." I knew she must do that to tease the boys, and now to tease me. She was starting to draw some attention. That's not surprising since she was dressed more like a stripper than a real cheerleader. She replaced the pump hose and suddenly realized her appearance. She tried to pull down her skirt in the back, but as she did, it started to slip off her waist completely. She dove into her car and drove off FAST. She didn't even get her receipt. My pump clicked off, and I replaced the hose. I strolled into the store to pick up a few groceries and chuckled as I thought about how she was going to walk into her house in that outfit. How would she explain that? Maybe she could have to use her body to get out of it. That's what a little whore like her should do. I chuckled again. Too bad they never have to pay back all the guys she teases. I wish that wasn't the case, just once. Ya... I wish her luck with that. I looked at my watch to check the time and smiled again. Boy, this watch sure does seem lucky! CHAPTER: 1.3 I've got to get home Shelly raced out of Mini Market and she didn't stop to think until she squealed to a stop in her garage. She looked down at her outfit. Her top barely covered her tits. The word WHORE barely fit across the front. "Whores??? What the hell happened to the "Knights" logo"? She looked down further to an ultra-mini, mini skirt. It wasn't long enough to cover her ass or even the camel toe, which seemed very clearly defined beneath her skirt. "What the hell am I going to do. Dad will kill me!" She wished it wasn't Tuesday. If it was any other day, her younger sister would be there, and she could call her to bring her some clothes. But on Tuesday, her sister went to ballet, and her mom went to watch. "Maybe dad is in the shower. I'll just have to chance it". She got out of the car and looked at her reflection in the glass. "I look like a stripper," she thought. Her white thong was exposed in the front. She reached down to pull out her thong and hide the camel toe that was so evident. It was ironic, she thought. She picked these undies out for the very purpose of emphasizing the camel toe and teasing the boys. Now she was trying to hide it from Dad. For a moment, she thought she felt dampness on her thong. As Shelly turned away from the car, she was startled as the garage door started to close. She looked up, and her Dad was at the door to the house, closing the garage, and staring right at her. "Shelly? What are you wearing?" Jon Thompson stared at his daughter's wardrobe in disbelief. "What have you been doing?" "Nothing dad... my uniform just ripped.. ok?" "Ripped? Shelly, do I look that naïve? You look like a..., a,..., a I don't know what." "Like a stripper, dad? Go ahead and say it. I do. I just wish you looked at me the way guys in a strip club would look at me, and not judge me." Jon's eyes blinked like crazy for a few seconds. Then he saw his daughter again. Only he felt very different. He saw her curves and her flat, perfect stomach. God, she had a great rack! Jon stopped himself. He couldn't think these things. He couldn't. He was unaware of the hard-on that now stood out so clearly in his pants. But Shelly saw it. "I.. umm.. I.." Shelly saw him pop a boner. She didn't feel offended like she knew she should. She felt powerful. She could make a man do anything she wanted, and this one was going to go all the way. She seductively walked up to her father. She put a finger on his lips to silence them. Her finger fell down to his chest, then lower. Finally, it came to rest right on the head of her father's cock, which stood out clearly in his pants. "Yes, daddy?" She looked up with innocent eyes at him. "Is there something else you wanted to tell me?" Jon couldn't say a word before Shelly was unzipping his pants. His cock stood out, throbbing in Shelly's hand. "Isn't there something I can do to fix this, daddy?" Shelly cooed as she stroked her father's throbbing cock. "I bet I can think of something." Shelly crouched down and slid her father's member into her young mouth. "Ohhhhh godddddddddddd," Jon moaned as he felt Shelly's lips wrap around the head of his cock. As she began to go back and forth on his cock, she felt less like his daughter and more like a hot stripper. His mind drifted back to his last visit to Rendez-U. He looked down again and saw Shelly giving him a BJ like a pro. Her saliva dripped to the concrete as she struggled to take him all. "Get on the car... I want you now," Jon couldn't believe what he just barked to his daughter. "Yes, sir, Mr. Customer, sir," Shelly smiled and lay back on the hood of the Monte Carlo. Jon was in a zone. This wasn't his daughter, this was every stripper that had ever teased him and sent him off with no money and a hard-on. He would show her! He stepped to the car and raised the tiny skirt. With one motion, he tore his daughter's thong from her pussy. She smiled as she saw him stick it in his pocket.He grabbed her legs and put them on his shoulders. He positioned his naked cock to enter her. He looked down and saw Shelly's blonde little bush. He noticed her puffy pink lips. He couldn't wait any longer. It wasn't until this moment that Shelly remembered two things. First, she was a virgin. And secondly, she was obviously not on the pill. "Wait one sec...." Before Shelly could object, Jon thrust his manhood inside his daughter with one violent thrust. "Shhhhhhhhhiiiittttt Fuccckkkkkkkkkkkkk OWWWWWWWWWWWWWW," Shelly screamed as her maidenhood was ripped to a memory. "That's it, you fucking tease. Take it all," Jon huffed as he fucked his daughter with more force and anger than he ever knew was in him. And it felt great! He was rocking this tight pussy, making it scream. His cock felt so good pounding into her. "You... you... have..." Shelly tried to get her wind back, she needed to warn him to pull out. "You have to pull out.... Ok? Please!" "Ya sure... sure," as Jon felt his cum begin to shoot. "mmm yesssssssssss," he moaned as his cum filled his daughter's pussy. "No..noooooo," Shelly began to orgasm herself as she felt this wave of cum fill her belly. "Nooo... mmmmmmmm god..." They both collapsed on the car. Jon lay there on top of his daughter. His softening dick retracted from her pussy. He leaned back and stood. As he looked down, he could see a blood stain on the front of the white Monte Carlo's hood. He realized what he had just done and fell to his knees in shock. He lost control and... dear god... no... Shelly felt like she was waking from a bad dream. She lay on the hood. She could feel her father's load inside her; some of it dripping down her thigh. She felt like she was going to throw up. Did she just do her own dad? What the hell had happened to her this evening? She stumbled past her sobbing father and into the house to get to a bathroom. As she closed the door to the house, she shouted at her father, "Pig!"	null	1.1 The Flea Market	Authors/jeffreyo/A Dreamers Watch.txt
86,040	Quiltrebel	Lucerne	You untie me from the table and help me to my feet. I reach up to remove my blindfold, but you quickly grab my wrists and pin them behind my back, tying them together. Taking my leash in hand, you lead me towards the stairs. My steps are hesitant at first, but I know I can trust you not to let me fall. Down the steps we go, quickly reaching the level with the door that opens onto the top of the wall. Even though it's summer, the air is cool on my body, and I shiver as you lead me across. As we pass the threshold into the third tower, I feel relief to be relatively warm again. You lead me up this set of stairs to the top floor, and we move across the room. You start to slow my progress, and I feel something in my path. It's waist-high and seems to be metal, perhaps a bar or a pipe. You halt my progress and order me to spread my feet, which I do promptly. I feel cuffs being buckled around my ankles. I test to see how far I can move my feet, and the answer is "not at all." You order me to lean forward, which I do until my torso is parallel to the floor. You stop me. I feel a tug on my collar and hear a click. I've been secured to something that keeps me from moving my head: up, down, left, or right. I am uncertain, but intrigued, and wait both eagerly and anxiously to find out what will happen next. I hear footsteps on the stairs, and I start to panic. We've been caught, and I am certain that this won't end well. I begin to whimper as I struggle and squirm in an attempt to escape, and am confused by the jerking of my collar and the firm "NO!" that I hear from you. The footsteps get closer and closer, and I become more and more concerned. Finally, I can tell by the sound that whoever this is has reached the top. I hear the footsteps cross the room towards me. Neither you nor this other person says a word. A hand slaps my ass, then another hand on the other cheek. I don't know if it's you or our mystery visitor. As the slapping of my ass continues, additional hands begin to roam over my body. The strength and texture of the hands suggest that both people are male. So, definitely you, but who else is here? Why are you letting this happen to me? The roaming hands move towards my crotch and begin to rub between my legs. I become turned on by this. The recurring slaps on my ass get me even more aroused. Then, all contact stops. I feel the tip of a cock pressing into my cunt. I'm really hoping it's yours. Slowly at first, then building up steam, the man behind me begins to rock in and out of my cunt. The tempo increases further, and the thrusts become stronger. Meanwhile, hands begin to untie my gag. As the cloth is pulled from my mouth, I attempt to ask what is happening and why, but a hand slaps me across the face. I open my mouth to protest, and the tip of another cock presses in. I hear your voice tell me, "suck it." I begin to blow the man in front of me, flicking and swirling my tongue around the head of his dick, all the while being pounded from behind. I moan as the pounding becomes harder, slamming my cunt with each stroke. This feels so good. Then I hear your voice, ordering me not to cum under any circumstances. I am frustrated by this, but have decided at this point that it's best to obey you. I focus on the cock in my mouth and put all my willpower into holding off an orgasm. The dick in my twat slams ever harder, and the man at my face begins to rock his hips, fucking my throat. The two cocks slide in and out of me, in completely different rhythms, each man focused on his own pleasure and oblivious to the movements of the other. The dick in my mouth pulls back a bit, and I taste the semen on my tongue. Shortly thereafter, the man between my legs cums too. I have succeeded in staving off my own orgasm. As the cock in my mouth slides out, I hear you tell me not to speak. Both dicks pull out of me, and I hear movement as the two of you switch places. The new cock in my mouth tastes of my pussy, and I eagerly lick it, savoring the taste. The other man presses his dick against my taint, but moves up, rather than down, and slides into my asshole. I jump somewhat in surprise, as much as is possible given my restraints. I hear you again tell me not to cum. I'm still uncertain as to who is where. The initial pain of having my asshole entered begins to subside, and I discover that this is quite the pleasant sensation. It becomes more and more difficult to hold back my climax. With one of you fucking my face and the other pounding my ass, I get closer and closer. I nearly cum, but at the last second remember that I am not yet allowed to and manage to hold off. Harder and faster, both cocks slide in and out of me, still working at different tempos. It is quite the puzzling, but intriguing sensation. I am so close to cumming, and working desperately not to do so. You hear me whimper, clearly begging you to let me finish. "No. Not yet," you say, and I whimper again, this time expressing my frustration. Again I feel one man cum, and then the other. I have still not been given permission, but I can't hold back any longer. I cum and cum hard, pushing the man behind me out, as the man at my face moves back. A hand comes down full force on my ass, and again on the other side. "You were given clear instructions. Now there will be consequences."	null	Chapter 4	Authors/Quiltrebel/Lucerne - C4.txt
86,237	Kaereni	Grotto Induction	You can now see and feel this place with your eyes open. You are here reading but at the same time you are relaxed, sitting in your chair, in the underwater grotto at peace. Deep, deep relaxed and at peace. I turn the pages in the book back, back to your childhood, and stop. Remember back in time as I turn the pages. You are a young child, making a drawing and taking it to your mother, remember the kitchen, the smells. Hand her the picture and hear her say, looking down at you, "For me? Thank you, good girl," as she takes it and looks at it. Her face shifts and you see me there. "My good girl." See me turn and display it on the refrigerator of your childhood. See me pick up the book and bring it to you. Read and live the memories all over again. See my name there written where you hand the drawing to me. "Good girl," I say. Live the past over and over again, hearing my voice, seeing my face as you give me the drawing. I turn the pages forward, memories flash through and past you. It is your first ride on a bike without the training wheels, you wobble but do not fall, see your father come forward and say, "good girl," as he lifts you off the bike. As you watch, his face shifts, the body still the same, the clothes the same. But it is my face, my voice that lifts you and dusts you off, "good girl." Look down and read the book, see how they shift and flow, changing to fit, just as the memories shift. "Good girl." Close your eyes and live it, remember the ride, see my smile and pride in you, hear my words of praise. Forward the pages turn, high school, a camping trip with your best friend, your first kiss and making love to her. Read it and live it again. In the wind, you hear my voice, "good girl." The pages flip forward, you receive your degree. Look out at the audience, see me there looking at you with love, with pride, see my lips move saying "good girl." Feel the pleasure in those words, of my joy for you. Live the memories, hear my words of praise, feel pleasure from them. I turn the pages forward, to the last written entry. "Each time you do good, you will hear me call you 'good girl' and feel pleasure. Each job, even if you fail, if you tried your best, you will hear me say 'good girl.'" Watch the words write in the book. "Good girl." Even reading the words makes you feel good. "Feel the pleasure in being my good girl." Feel my touch against your cheek, feel the pleasure of being good, a good girl, my good girl. Feel the peace of this grotto, the comfort of this chain, safe and calm. Deep, deep, asleep and at peace, happy in being my good girl. Read the book, cum from the pleasure of being my good girl. Watch as I pick up the book and place it back on its pedestal. "Good girls stay and learn, bad girls leave. Are you a good girl, do you wish to continue? You must tell me so, or stand and swim out from this peaceful place. The choice is yours," I say, looking at you, my hand resting on the cover of the book. Look at me standing next to the book, my hand resting on the pages lightly, my smile as I look at you. "Good girl." Watch me walk to stand beside you, "Feeling good is nothing more than endorphins reacting to the nerve cells in your brain. You know this..." I take the book and place it on your lap open, "see even the book says this. When I do this," Feel my hand caress your cheek and down to your breast, rolling your nipple with thumb and forefinger. "You feel aroused. You feel good, you feel pleasure." Feel my touch and truth in words. "Arousal is pleasure is feeling good. Because that is true, then feeling good is the same as feeling aroused," I point to the book and you watch as the words appear. "When you do a good job or are complimented on something, then you feel good." I make eye contact, "good girl for doing this, good girl for trusting, good girl for all the love you have for others." Feel how the pleasure sweeps over yourself in waves, each taking the arousal to a higher plane. My hand moves across your belly, "It is OK to feel aroused, to know you are a good girl. See." Gesturing to the book where the words appear, "A good girl is aroused." Live it, feel it, at peace, relaxed, and feeling good. "Look around the cave and what do you see?" I say, gesturing around the cave. "This is your grotto, your private place. But even here you are not alone, are you," My eyes meeting yours. "I am here with you." I place my hand on the book, palm down on an empty section of the page covering it. "Mark my words and know the truth. 'You will never be alone again. I will walk with you till the day you send me away.' Look at the book and see the truth written there." I pull my hand away, and written is, "Mistress will never leave her good girl till asked to go." Raising your chin until our eyes meet, "Never again will you be alone in the dark." Look at the book, feel the power in those words. Know the truth to your very core. "Shoes can also make you feel good. Let me show you now," I move down to your feet, kiss them and suck on your big toe, first the right and then the left. "Feel the passion from the kisses, the arousal." I pick up a pair of high-heeled ballet shoes that lace up. "The black leather and 9" heels flickering in the light. "Feel them, feel the excitement from them." I drop my robe, showing my nude body, shaved cleanly. "This also makes you feel good. Watch and enjoy." I take one of your heeled feet and use it against my slit and clit, rubbing it back and forth. When the tip is soaked, I bend down and lick and suck on it. "Good girls are aroused. This excites you. Thus, good girls wear high heels when they can." Feel the shoes, smell my musk, feel the pleasure, be a good girl. "The thought of you in high heels while alone, sitting at your computer or laying in bed having orgasms excites me. Just as the thought of me excited makes you feel good too. Look at the book and see the truth." I say, moving up to your side. "Feel the need to be good, to be my good girl, to wear 'feel good' shoes." My hand caresses your face lightly, my eyes on yours, "When you know all these as truth and have acted on them, we will move forward again." Think on them all, see the truth in the book, know the truth is in your heart, and come to me when ready to move forward again.	null	Session II	Authors/Naughy_and_Nice/Kaereni/grotto2.txt
86,297	John Jameson	Ginger	Yes, I know--Ginger sounds like a stripper or some fantasy character. In some ways she was a fantasy character, except that she was a living, breathing woman as well. If it makes you feel better, change her name to Mary or Phyllis in your mind, but I'll always remember her as Ginger. I was in the Navy at the time, and we'd recently returned to our homeport of San Diego after an extended deployment to WESTPAC. (To those of you lucky enough never to have been there, WESTPAC is Navy-speak for Western Pacific. In 1972, that meant one thing: a tour of duty off the coast of Vietnam.) Typical of my brilliant timing, I'd managed to join the Tonkin Gulf Yacht Club just as Dick Nixon decided it would be a good idea to increase the naval pressure on the North Vietnamese. The seven and a half months of our deployment had been spent primarily on the gun line or on carrier escort and plane guard missions. During the previous deployment, the U.S.S. Hummer (not her real name) had fired 500 rounds from the destroyer's five-inch main guns over the course of six weeks on the gun line and enjoyed liberty call in over a dozen ports in Polynesia, the Far East, Australia, and New Zealand. This time, we'd spent six months in the Gulf and the South China Sea, fired off fifteen thousand rounds of five-inch, and snagged six visits to Subic Bay in the Philippines and five glorious days of R&R in Hong Kong. On our return stateside, I had a week-long visit from my family. I didn't really expect my fiancée to meet the ship, since she was a college junior at the time and we returned in September, shortly after the fall semester began. I did think it showed class that she waited until the ship was back in port and she'd got a first-hand report from my sisters on my health and fitness before she wrote to tell me she'd be ever so much happier with someone else. She was also sure I'd be happy to know the proceeds from selling the engagement ring I'd given her before setting off for Southeast Asia had funded the trip she and her new love had taken, ostensibly to relieve the stress before the start of classes. Damn, that sounds kind of bitter, doesn't it? You'd think I'd be happy that the last of my college fund had gone into buying a diamond ring, which had given so much pleasure to my beloved, wouldn't you? I guess I was just grumpy at the time--everyone knows how unreasonable some Vietnam vets were on their return to the World. I'm sure my fiancée needed to get away for a while to rest up from all the stress and tension of summer vacation and working those backbreaking twenty-hour weeks at the mall. San Diego is a beautiful city, or at least it was then--I'm sure it's even nicer now. Okay, so there were still places where you'd see signs that read "Sailors and Dogs Keep Off the Grass." The climate is incredible, and the scenery is breathtaking in its beauty and majesty. About the only civilian women who would talk to sailors, however, were the hostesses at the USO and the professional ladies on Broadway in the massage parlors and strip joints. But show your military ID at the gate, and you got a discount on admission to the San Diego Zoo. Since I'd never been much into hookers, I spent a lot of time playing pool with the junior hostesses at the USO and attending parties at the homes of shipmates, many of whom were married. Gradually, a core group of us formed a regular social circle that got together for parties, night clubbing, movies, and trips to the park for softball and touch football. One of the few unattached women in the group was Ginger. She was actually a former neighbor of one of my best friends, and she had a brother who was also stationed in San Diego. Ginger had moved out there from their small Nebraska hometown to attend San Diego State University (SDSU), and since she and Rich had been such good friends back home, she became a part of our group. Ginger was always there, whether it was for a party at someone's apartment or a highly competitive game of touch football. She was full of fun and mischief, always ready to join in whatever mad plans we might make, but tragically, she limited her sex life to her fellow students at SDSU. A tragedy indeed. Ginger stood about five-eight, with honey-blond hair, which flowed in unruly waves over her shoulders, enormous cornflower-blue eyes, a dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose, and a wide, full pair of lips, which begged to be kissed. She had marvelous breasts, without a trace of sag, despite her distaste for wearing brassieres. Ginger had a nearly flat stomach, neither rippled with muscle nor rounded. Her waist was almost slender enough for my hands to enclose fully, and her hips and ass were slim and firm and would have looked gorgeous in one of today's thong bikinis--they were pretty damn fine in the two-piece suits of the time, for that matter. Her long, lean legs, with the subtle play of muscle under tawny skin, were usually accentuated by short skirts and cutoff shorts. When she did wear jeans, the fashion of the day assured that they were tight enough that there was no doubt about the shape of the woman beneath them. In many ways, Ginger was typical of small-town girls of the time. She knew what sex is and how babies are made, but beyond that, she was naive. She didn't have twenty or thirty years of feminist philosophy to tell her that she had a right to expect certain things of a lover. Suddenly immersed in the sexual free-for-all of campus life in the early Seventies, Ginger was a living contrast between wide-eyed naivete and sexual liberation. While more than once I found Ginger to be the subject of my fantasies, I was no more likely to hit on her than I was the married women in our circle. She was a friend, and female friends were rare enough at the time that I wasn't about to endanger the friendship just because I hadn't been laid in nearly a year. Besides, she showed no sign of being interested in me other than as another surrogate brother; although, I doubt she told her brother about her dates in quite the graphic detail she sometimes shared with the rest of us. Many nights, I'd gone back to the ship or bedded down on someone's couch with the image of Ginger's sexual escapades racing through my sleepless brain. Shortly before I was to go home on leave for Christmas, there was a big party at the apartment of Wayne and Lanie Biggs. They lived in a Navy-dominated complex in Chula Vista, so the party flowed into a dozen others scattered around the complex, with people wandering from apartment to apartment drinking, snacking, and listening to stereo systems cranked up to the point that the windows rattled. I was catching my breath in the little free space on the sofa, drinking a cold beer, when Ginger popped out of the mass of bodies occupying the center of the room. Her hair was a bit disheveled, and she had a slight sheen of perspiration on her smooth, tanned skin; her cheeks were a bit flushed from dancing and laughing. Spotting me, she must have realized my lap was about the only available seating space left in the apartment, and she dropped unceremoniously onto me and made a grab for my beer. She laughed when I swatted her playfully on her denim-encased ass and complained that at least she could have asked before draining half my drink. She whispered something unintelligible into my ear. "What was that?" I shouted above the pounding of the music. "I said let's find someplace less crowded, and I'll even fetch you a fresh drink myself to make up for this one," she replied, leaning close enough to my ear that I could make out what she said above the noise. She stood and took my hand, and we weaved through the crowd to the front door. We wandered to a couple of other apartments with parties in progress, but the crowds were incredible. We did manage to snag a couple of beers at one place where they'd left the cooler outside on the balcony that ran the length of the second floor, but we couldn't find a place to sit. "Come on," Ginger laughed. "Let's go down by the pool. It's closed for the night, but at least we can sit down and hear ourselves think." Hand in hand, we strolled down behind the buildings to the pool area, but even though it closed at ten and it was now nearly midnight, it wasn't exactly deserted. We'd just hopped over the low fence and were heading for the lounge chairs when Ginger stopped so suddenly I almost ran into her. She raised her finger to her lips and then pointed to the pool, and I saw what had stopped her. There was a couple sitting on the steps in the shallow end. Or rather, the woman was sitting at the top of the steps, facing away from us. Although the man was facing in our direction, I don't think he saw us as his face was buried between his companion's legs, and they both seemed to be too engrossed to pay any attention to us. Stifling the impulse to laugh, we hurriedly slipped back over the fence and left them to their pleasures. Ginger's hand was once again in mine, and we walked away quickly until we could stand it no longer. We burst out laughing at what we'd nearly interrupted. "I didn't have the heart to intrude on that," Ginger said through her laughter, "although I don't know if they'd have noticed.She sure seemed to be fully occupied, but maybe he'd have welcomed an excuse to stop going down on her. "Then again," I countered, "he seemed to be as much into it as she was. God knows, I'd be pissed if someone barged in while I was in the middle of eating pussy." Ginger looked at me oddly. "Oh, come on, I know guys only go down on women so they can get blow jobs or if the woman isn't wet enough. You don't have to pretend they enjoy it." It was my turn to stare at her. I realized that although I'd heard her describe giving head often enough when she talked about sex, she'd never once mentioned having an orgasm while being eaten. Could it be this walking wet dream hadn't yet encountered a guy who enjoyed going down on women? The thought brought me to a full stop in the shadows behind the apartment complex. "Ginger, can I ask you a personal question?" When she nodded her permission, I took a deep breath, and the scent of her jasmine perfume reached me on the still, warm air. "Haven't you ever gotten off by someone going down on you?" "Not really," she replied candidly. "I mean, I've been close a few times, but then it was my turn to give them head, or they realized I was wet enough to fuck or whatever, so they stopped." She looked down at the ground. "I mean, it's not like I don't come--I usually manage to come before they're done fucking, and if I don't, I get off on my fingers afterward. Everyone knows guys usually come before girls do." "Shit!" I exclaimed without really thinking. "I can't believe that--if I were eating your pussy, you'd have to drag me away." "But if I came," she argued, "how would you get off?" She pondered that thought and went on, "I guess you'd want a blow job, or you wouldn't have eaten me anyway, right?" "No, no, no!" I countered. "I mean, yes, I wouldn't turn down a blow job, but I'd get off even more if we fucked, hopefully after you'd had a whole string of orgasms." Though her disbelief echoed plainly on her face, I could see through the white tank top she was wearing that her nipples were erect, and she was breathing faster than she had been. Frankly, our conversation, in combination with the image from the pool, had given me a throbbing erection, which was straining against my tight jeans. I just hoped Ginger didn't notice it; I didn't think she would in the shadows, and I sure didn't want her leaving at this point. "I've read about women having multiple orgasms," she told me hesitantly, "but I always assumed they were either exaggerating or that they were somehow freaks." "The way I see it," I explained, "sex is about getting your partner off and trusting him or her to make sure you do, too." Ginger inched closer to me. I could feel the hardness of her nipples against my chest, and the unmistakable scent of an aroused woman caressed my nose. "The whole idea of making love should be to give pleasure to someone," I insisted. "I know I get off so much more when I know I've made a woman come, preferably over and over, before I can't hold back any more and come myself." "Oh my God," she whispered, her lips only inches from mine now, "you're serious, aren't you?" I felt her hand slip between us, and then her fingers brushed lightly as feathers over the front of my jeans. I gasped--if I hadn't known better, I'd have sworn my jeans and briefs had dissolved away and her fingers had brushed against my bare cock. I felt the heat of her skin and the incredible softness of her caress, and then our lips met. She tasted faintly of hot dogs and beer, and I'm sure I did too. It didn't matter; we kissed with tender delicacy for what seemed ages before the tip of her tongue tickled my lips and my mouth opened to her caresses. I returned her kiss and caresses hungrily as our hands began to wander over one another's bodies. I'd never felt my skin so stimulated with all my clothes on, and judging by her little moans and gasps, she was getting as turned on as I was. Feeling brave, I finally touched her pussy through her jeans, trying to keep my touch as light as hers had been on my cock. I could feel how her juices were already seeping through the denim. "My apartment is less than five minutes away," she whispered, her teeth gently tugging at my earlobe. "I know it is." "Then why aren't we there fucking each other's brains out yet?" We took my car because it was parked closer than hers. I'd barely driven out of the parking lot before she unbuttoned my jeans and dragged my zipper down. I tried to keep my attention on the road as she managed to fish my throbbing cock out of my briefs and began to stroke it gently with her hand. "Baby, you know how long it's been for me," I groaned. "If you do that, I'm liable to come all over your hand." "No you won't," she giggled. "Why not?" "Because of this," she whispered, and arched her body over the center console of my '67 Mustang to slide those warm, full lips down the length of my cock. Her tongue felt like a live creature as it swirled around my superheated flesh while her head bobbed up and down energetically. It was literally only seconds before I could feel the semen boiling up from my balls, and I tried to tell her, but she just sucked harder and faster. I stiffened and felt the warm blasts of cum shooting into her waiting mouth as she gulped and slurped hungrily until, at last, I was drained. It was Ginger's turn to be surprised when, after pulling into her driveway a couple of minutes later, I pulled her close and kissed her deeply, the salty taste of my cum still faintly in her mouth. "Why did you do that?" "To thank you for an incredible blow job," I told her. She looked at me and raised an eyebrow, completely unconvinced of my motive. "If it's okay for you to swallow my cum, why shouldn't it be okay for me to kiss you after you've done so?" I asked. "I've never met a guy who would kiss me after he came until I'd at least gargled--until you." She smiled and slid out the passenger door. Leaning back in, she looked at me and giggled, "Enough talking--let's get inside, so you can put your money where your mouth is, if that's the phrase I was looking for." Ginger laughed again and ran for her front door. I laughed back and raced her to the door, catching her as she was unlocking it, and tumbled in behind her. "Are you serious about trying to make me come several times?" "Baby, I'm serious about trying to make you come until you beg me to stop. It's time someone put your pleasure ahead of theirs and let you feel what sex should be. I may not be the greatest stud of the western world, but I care about you and want you to know how good it can be to the best of my ability." Ginger took my hand and led me toward her bedroom, though we seemed to be stopping about every two steps for a long, hot, wet kiss and a lot of caresses over and under our clothing. Finally we were there, with the big bed beckoning us to begin our journey to paradise. I playfully pushed her back onto the bed and pulled off her shoes and then grabbed the waistband of the jeans she'd already unbuttoned and unzipped. They were so tight she had to wiggle her ass and legs as I pulled to get them off, but it didn't take long. I saw that, rather than the tank top I'd thought she was wearing, she had on a white sleeveless body shirt. No big deal--a couple of tugs, and the crotch snaps opened, even though the shirt and the panties under it were now soaked with her juices. Ginger sat up and tugged the shirt over her head impatiently, and I finally saw her breasts, those marvelous breasts that I'd dreamt of so often. My dreams hadn't done them justice. Ginger's breasts weren't massive, but they were well proportioned to her long, slender frame; firm as a teenager's with her nipples tilted up just enough to qualify as "perky." Her breasts were nearly as tanned as the rest of her body, and I remembered the little patio out back with the privacy fence, which kept her neighbors from spying on her. Apparently she took full advantage of it. Her nipples were about the size and length of pencil erasers, a dark rose color surrounded by deep pink areolae about the size of a half-dollar. I looked down over her flat, toned belly as I slipped her wet panties down those long, luscious legs and noted there were no tan lines below either. Her pubic hair was neatly trimmed to accommodate her skimpy bikinis and was clipped short. It was the same honey blond color as the hair on her head, and I could see her outer labia were swollen and opening, revealing the dark pink color of her engorged inner lips. My eyes roamed slowly upward from her feet--actually a little small for her height--along those gorgeous legs and up her body until I saw her smiling at me. "Aren't you forgetting something?" she asked, giggling like a schoolgirl. "Sorry, I got lost staring at the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," I replied truthfully, if a bit hoarsely. "What am I forgetting?" "Get out of those clothes; I want to see you, too." I realized I was still fully dressed. I kicked off my shoes as I hurriedly peeled my tee shirt over my head and unbuckled my belt. Ginger's nimble fingers had already unbuttoned and unzipped my pants, and now she helped me peel them down along with my briefs. I kicked them toward the bedroom chair and dropped to the bed beside her, my arms going around her and pulling her close, feeling the hardness of her nipples pressing into my chest. We kissed again--wet open-mouthed kisses accompanied by frantic caresses. Her breathing was as harsh as my own as our hands explored one another's bodies. Despite having come just a few minutes earlier, I felt every nerve ending in my skin come alive to the sensation of her slender fingers gliding over my body. Ginger purred like a friendly cat as I kissed down her neck and the upper slopes of her breasts--purring that changed to soft moans as my lips and tongue danced lightly over her rock-hard nipples.I sucked one into my mouth and flicked my tongue against the underside as I pressed the sensitive tip against the rough surface of my palate. I felt her fingers tangling in my hair, holding my mouth to her breast. I spent several minutes worshipping her magnificent breasts, licking and sucking her nipples--even biting them gently and tugging them with my teeth, which brought forth a string of approving, breathless comments. I began to kiss gradually down her belly, eliciting giggles when my tongue flicked in and out of her bellybutton, and then she gasped more when my tongue began to trace the edges of her pubic triangle. She arched her back and cried out when my tongue slid down over her swollen clit and explored between her slick inner lips. Her scent was slightly musky, with undertones of jasmine perfume, and her copious juices were clear and almost sweet. I parted her labia with my thumbs and began to flick the tip of my tongue between them, around the entrance to her cunt. "I'm wet enough, baby--you don't have to do that if you don't want to," she moaned. "You're more than 'wet enough,'" I replied, "but this isn't about getting you wet--I want to see you, smell you, hear you, feel you, and taste you when you come. I want to experience your orgasm with all my senses." I caressed her with my fingers and licked up and down the length of her slit, my tongue occasionally brushing over her clit but not really attacking it directly. Ginger's long legs slid over my shoulders, and her heels began to move against the muscles of my back as she spread her legs wider the more I licked and nuzzled her sweet pussy. Gently easing the index and middle fingers of my right hand inside her, I glided my tongue upward and began to lightly tease her clit, bouncing the hard little nub on the tip of my tongue. I heard her gasp again, and her pussy clamped down on my fingers. She shuddered and stiffened, then began to thrash about as her first orgasm washed over her so that I had to hold tight to her hips in order to keep my tongue on target. "Oh, shit! Oh, God, that's so fucking good!" she cried out. "Yes, baby, right there! Oh, GOD!" Her nails dug into my scalp as she pulled my willing face closer to her crotch. "Fuck yes! Oh, baby, just keep doing that!" As I felt the spasms inside her slowing, I removed my fingers from her cunt and began to thrust my tongue in and out of her hot, flowing pussy. My slick fingers brushed against either side of her clit, and within a couple of minutes, she was crying out again and drumming her heels on my back. I kept alternating my tongue and fingers on various parts of her pussy until she finally let her legs slide from my shoulders and pushed me away weakly. "Oh, baby, I'm getting too sensitive--I can't take any more for now," she murmured hoarsely. I slowed, my tongue and jaw nearly numb, though I was reluctant to leave the taste and scent of her. My face was drenched with her juices, and I rested my head on her thigh, smiling up at her. In a minute, still breathing raggedly, she smiled back down at me with her eyes shining brightly. "I've never come like that before," she whispered. "It was like being on a roller coaster that didn't end." Ginger slipped her arms around my waist as I slid up her body and stretched out beside her. All of this time going down on her had given me one of those hard-ons that feel like they'll never go away; although, I knew from the feeling of her strong, slender fingers, which encompassed it and stroked it gently, that I was far from numb. I wanted to look into her eyes when she came again, and I told her so. "More? You really think I can come again so soon after that?" "There's only one sure way to find out, isn't there? The only question is if you want the top or the bottom. I don't care as long as I get to watch that beautiful face." Ginger's only answer was to roll over and squat over me, slowly lowering her hips until I could feel the head of my cock nestled between the slick inner lips of her cunt. She reached down with one hand until she got the alignment she wanted, then stared into my eyes as she braced her hands on my chest and slowly sank down on my cock, letting the swollen head feel every little ripple inside her as she engulfed me in her heat. My hands reached up and cradled her marvelous breasts, my fingers delicately attacking her erect nipples. The only points of contact between us as she began sliding slowly up and down my rigid length were my hands on her tits, hers on my chest, and that wonderful friction of my hard cock sliding in and out of her very wet, willing pussy. For the longest time I just lay there, my hands caressing and exploring her breasts, but otherwise just drinking in the sensations. The sight of her lovely body moving up and down on mine, her lovely face a study in concentration. It seemed as though she was throwing not only her body but her whole consciousness into pleasing me (and hopefully herself) as droplets of sweat rolled down her face, and her wavy golden tresses flew about her head in rhythm with her motions. Her expression was that of the accomplished athlete putting forth total effort in a passionately dedicated quest. That look of concentration was punctuated occasionally by a secret smile or gasp of pure delight as some wave of sensation passed through her body. She moved her hips in little circles and then sometimes straight back and forth as they rose and fell at a slowly increasing tempo. Her breasts moved in counterpoint to her hips, it seemed, though I did my best to keep them from bouncing too much within the loving grasp of my hands. Beyond the visual stimulation of watching her determined assault on my sanity, there was the tactile sensation. It wasn't just the friction, enhanced by the rhythmic tightening and relaxation of her internal muscles, but the feel of her skin under my hands as we both became drenched with the sweet sweat of sexual effort. The occasional impact of a droplet of her sweat falling onto my body delivered a little shock like a warm, slow spring rain. Above the aroma of fresh perspiration and surrounding us like a blanket was the scent of aroused woman. Nothing compares to that scent, slightly tangy with a hint of musk and unidentifiable undertones that made every inhalation an aphrodisiac delight. Several times I felt tremors move through her body, and the flush that extended from her hairline to the roundness of her breasts deepened. Though neither of us made a sound beyond our harsh breathing and occasional grunts and moans, I knew Ginger had reached another little peak of pleasure. Gradually her pace quickened until finally her knees came to rest beside my ribs, and she began to slam her hips down with each stroke, igniting my own passions. I responded by digging my heels into the bed and thrusting up to meet her, the soft slap of damp skin meeting equally damp skin which grew faster and louder. Ginger's blue eyes locked with mine as she began building to another major eruption. Breathlessly she urged me onward. We were vocal, too, in urging each other on. As our climaxes neared, we gasped and cried out sweet obscenities to push one another over the edge. "Danny!" she moaned. "Oh, God, yes!" "Come for me, Ginger--God, baby, I want to feel you come again!" The rest was just wordless moans and screams for a while as Ginger's body went rigid, except for her hips, which ground down against me spasmodically as the inner walls of her pussy clutched at my cock. As she slowed and began to slump forward onto my chest, I rolled us over so that now I was above her, my weight supported on my hands. As soon as her hips stopped moving, I pulled back and slammed forward, the force of my thrusts driving her hips down into the firm mattress just as she had done to me. I abandoned all restraint--there was no more attempt at tender lovemaking; this was fucking, raw and animal, and Ginger's heels were soon digging into the cheeks of my ass. She urged me to fuck her even harder as we both began the wild ride toward our ultimate explosion. I felt her nails digging into my shoulders and back while our bodies slammed together like rutting beasts. I could tell she not only accepted the challenge of achieving one more orgasm, she welcomed it. I felt her lips and tongue teasing and biting my nipples, and I knew I wouldn't last much longer, but I held back doggedly, determined to wrest one more orgasm from this sweet goddess, who was so generously sharing herself with me, before I lost all control. "Harder, baby!" Ginger gasped. "Fuck me deep and hard--yes, like that!" Just as I lost all ability to maintain any kind of rhythm, Ginger screamed out my name in a long, drawn-out wail and went absolutely rigid under me. Her heels pressed me inside her at the same time my hips drove forward. I felt her cervix kissing the swollen head of my cock in the instant before I began to shudder and empty myself inside her. The spasms within her heated cunt milked me until I collapsed, and I could barely find the strength to propel my weight to the side, so I didn't crush her beneath me. We lay like that for long minutes, drawing in great gulps of air to feed our starved lungs. I'm sure she could feel the rapid pounding of my heart just as I could feel hers, and as our breathing and heart rates began to return to normal, I turned toward her and saw the glow in her cheeks and eyes. I tenderly brushed some wet tendrils of hair from her face, and our lips met softly, clinging as we trembled through uncounted little aftershocks. "Danny, that was...no one has ever...oh, fuck--I've never come like that in my life," she giggled. "I could tell that from our conversation earlier," I panted, smiling and brushing one hand from her shoulder to her hip with all the delicacy my shaking hand could manage."I wanted so much for you, at least once, to know what it feels like for someone to be as focused on giving to you as they are on receiving pleasure from you." We traded murmured endearments and soft caresses for a few more minutes before sleep overtook us. When we woke to the morning sun peeking through the blinds over her bedroom window, we shared the shower and cleaned each other thoroughly (filling the shower with as much laughter as steam) before stumbling into the kitchen for coffee and juice. We sat together nude on her little patio and talked quietly, laughing and joking like the friends we were and the lovers we might become, until Ginger took my hand and led me back to the bedroom. Our lovemaking this time was slower, less driven, but each of us was determined to make it special for the other. While our orgasms weren't the wild explosions they had been in the wee hours of the morning, I did manage to hold mine back until Ginger had crested at least twice, finally reaching my own release as she alternated sucking me and stroking me between her warm, firm breasts. She laughed with delight when at last I erupted between those incredible breasts, directing some of my shots onto her breasts before she sucked the remaining semen from my cock with her mouth. After another quick shower, we dressed and drove back to the apartment complex to retrieve her Jeep. I had to return to the ship to prepare for a short temporary duty assignment, and we didn't make any specific plans for my return. Although Ginger and I dated several times over my remaining months in San Diego and made love at least a couple of times a month, we remained more friends than lovers. My own social life improved thanks in no small part to Ginger introducing me favorably to some of her female classmates at SDSU. The weekend before my discharge from the Navy, we did drive up the coast to a beautiful, little inn near San Luis Obispo where we did our best to drive one another insane with sex. We also found time for dancing and sampling some incredible food at the inn and at a restaurant nearby. Our letter writing gradually dwindled and stopped after I returned home. Ginger became just a memory, but one that I treasure. To this day, I find myself reaching into the storehouse of my mind and drawing up the memories of those magical months. I have no regrets when I look back, only warm thoughts and an occasional moment of wondering if Ginger, wherever and whatever she may be today, also looks back from time to time and smiles at the recollection. Whatever road you've traveled, Ginger, and wherever you find yourself--I still love you.	null	null	Authors/John_Jameson/Ginger.txt
86,896	Grazz	Mine	You're walking home, deep in thought and are surprised to hear a shout from behind you. "Hey Jen!" You turn around and are surprised to see me jogging over, backpack bouncing. "Hey Dave, what are you doing here?" Grinning, I reply, "I was in town for the weekend and thought I'd drop by. You up to much these days?" You hesitate, "Ummm, no not really." I chuckle, "Sounds like fun. If you aren't up to anything, do you feel like doing something? There's no one in town right about now and I've been bored out of my mind." You think about it for a moment, but you've been home alone, bored the last few days, and you'd really just like to have someone around. "Sure, I guess... you want to come in? I just need to get some stuff." I nod, and both of us walk into the house. You lead me into the kitchen and offer me something to drink. "Just water, thanks. You have anything you desperately feel like doing tonight?", I joke. "Not really... I was just going to watch some TV and take a shower." You hand me a bottle of water, and I down about half of it at once. I raise an eyebrow at the second one, then wink at you and laugh. "That sounds like fun." You stick your tongue out at me and I laugh again. "Alright, well at least the TV bit then. I can put this down too," I say, gesturing at my backpack. Deciding that this won't be such a horrible night, even if not entirely exciting, you lead the way upstairs. Reaching the TV, I heavily drop my pack to the ground with a thud. Curious, you ask, "What's in there, anyway?" Grinning, I give you a funny look, "Wouldn't you like to know?" A bit taken aback by my reply, you hesitate a second before walking over to join me on the little couch. As you sit down, my arm naturally snakes its way over your shoulders. You give me a nervous look, to which I reply, "Hmmm? Oh, that. I've gotten a little more... confident since the last time you've seen me. Does it bother you?" Not sure what to say exactly, you just shake your head no and turn to the TV. As we start to watch, you grow increasingly aware of the arm wrapped around you. Glancing over, you watch the strong hand slowly tracing out patterns on your skin. Was the room this warm earlier? You can't seem to stop glancing over at the hand on your arm. Turning back to the screen at one point, you see me chuckling out of the corner of your eye and blush. Sliding my hand down, I brush the side of your breast and wrap it around your waist. You look over at me, and in that moment of distraction, I start tickling you! Gasping, you try to jump back, but my hands hold you down. You quickly counter with a tickle attack, and I find myself trying to back away. Falling back, you jump on top of me and start tickling relentlessly. I retaliate, targeting your sides and thighs, and as my hands creep all over your thighs, you feel your pussy flush. One of my hands is suddenly behind your head, pulling you down into a deep kiss, our tongues meeting, my teeth pulling on your lip - and then another kiss and another. We aren't tickling anymore but struggling nonetheless - you will stay on top, god damn it! You're going to make me your bitch! My arms grasp you tighter, while your hands dig into me. Pushing you up and off suddenly, I jump at you, and you reflexively swipe with one hand, leaving a few claw marks across my face, a drop of blood running down. Grinning savagely, I force your hands down, mine digging into your wrists, and kiss you passionately. Kissing me back, you bite my lip, and lick off a drop of blood that's run down to my chin. Suddenly, you heave to the side, and we roll off the couch, with you landing on top of me. Still holding your hands, I destabilize you for a moment, then grab for my bag, just snagging it. Pinning my arms down at the elbow with your forearms, you turn your attention to our battling lips, intertwined tongues, nips, and outright bites. I seem to stop resisting with my body for a second, and you enjoy yourself, making out and grinding into my erection. I stop kissing you, and you look down in confusion for a split second. I'm grinning that same predatory grin again, "You're mine". Time slows as you feel my arms twist to the side, and break free. Your eyes snap up, but by the time you can see my hands, the scarf I pulled from the bag has already constricted around your hands. I tie a quick knot, and roll your momentarily unresponsive body off mine and straddle you. Using one hand to pin your bound hands, I use the other to pull over my bag of tricks. Out pops a blindfold and another scarf, and then my hands move to your chest. I knead your breasts hard, and then in a quick motion, rip your shirt open and off. Grabbing the bra, I give it a quick tug and snap the straps. My head dives in to kiss you again, although you're stunned by the turn of events. As my hands run down towards your pants, you recover and begin kissing back with passion, your hands swinging onto my back to pull my shirt up and off my head. Briefly removing my hands to allow the shirt off my head, I quickly get back to work on your pants. Getting them undone, I swing off you and pull you up. Before you can move, your pants drop, and I yank down your panties. Sweeping you up in my arms, I grab my bag and quickly bring you into the bedroom, tossing you on the bed. Dropping my own pants, I jump up on the bed and undo your bonds. Before I can retie you to the bedposts, you pounce, struggling with me as we bite, lick and claw our way to dominance. My back crisscrossed with scratches, your arms bruised from my strong grip, I wrestle you down again. "Mine!" I grin. "Fuck you!" you growl, and strain up against me, arching your back, fingers wrapping around to dig into my wrists. Both of us slicked with sweat, I tie your right wrist up to the bedpost, and then your left next to it. I turn my attention back to your body, and lick around your nipple, finishing with a sharp bite to it. I use my hands to blindfold you while my mouth alternates between rolling your nipples between my teeth, and sucking your breasts into my mouth. Blinded, you struggle and squirm as you feel my hands run down to your wet pussy. The hands rub your inner thighs while my mouth continues to maul your deliciously sensitive and sore breasts. One finger slips into your steaming pussy, then two. They push in as far as they'll go, then the powerful fingers curl up, rubbing the inside of your cunt as they start to stroke back and forth. The other hand is squeezing your ass, nails digging in. You can't even keep up the pretense of a struggle now and just wriggle violently beneath me, gasping and moaning. My mouth licks its way down your stomach, circling your belly button a few times before tracing out a winding route down to your clit. You spasm as my tongue runs over your sensitive, swollen clit, circling and lapping at it quickly. My fingers now joined by a third, thrust in and out quickly against your G-spot, the other hand reaching into the bag. And as you feel my mouth suck in your clit, something hard and wooden snaps down on your nipple. Buckling, you let out a short scream, and your pussy spasms around my fingers. A second later, you feel something snap down on your second nipple, and you let out another short cry. Blinded, tied down, you're overwhelmed by the sensations. Your nipples are throbbing within their tight confinement, one hand kneading your breasts, the other filling your pussy; my mouth attacking your clit, tongue probing, circling, flicking - teeth nipping, lightly biting. Your moans turn to screams as you're pushed over the edge, your nails digging into your hands, thrashing wildly. As you come out of the post-orgasmic haze, my face appears above yours, grinning again, hand still buried in your cunt. "Mine"	null	null	Authors/Grazz/Mine.txt
86,897	Grazz	Meeting	You're standing nervously around the lobby of the Museum, not really sure you should be doing this. Sure, you've gotten to know him really well online, but do you want a creepy guy breathing down your neck? Another moment and the question is moot. You see him, it must be him, walk in looking around uncertainly. He stands just a little taller than you, not especially huge, but not a small build either. His hair is a dirty blond, shaggy and falling all over the place. As his eyes seek out yours, you note that they're a light blue-grey, soft and deep. "Sara?" he asks a little uncertainly, having walked over. "Uh... yep," you say, having absolutely no idea what to say. He grins, and you realize with a start that he has a cute grin, not entirely as you pictured it. "Hey, so we finally meet." "Yep," you laugh nervously. 'What the fuck do I say to him?' Deciding on nothing at all for the moment, you both head over to the ticket counter where he uses a membership card to get you both in for free. As you wander the halls, looking for the different art exhibits you need for your project, you keep up some nervous chatter, broken occasionally by a comment from him. 'God damn it, why is he so fucking quiet?' He helps you a little with your project, finding some exhibits for you and offering up the occasional opinion about the artwork. Glancing at him, you can't help feeling more nervous. 'Look at that smile. What the hell is he thinking? I keep talking, and all he'll do is smile, that smug smile. Damn him!' Still looking at him, you miss a step and start to fall, and he jumps forward to catch you. It isn't until after you're firmly back onto your own two feet that you realize that one of his hands is around your waist and the other, around your side, slid forward while helping you and was now firmly on your breast. Looking you straight in the eye, he winks and takes his hands off you, but not without quickly pinching your nipple. You freeze like a deer in the headlights. 'What was that??' Your nipple is sore, sensitive and hard. You could swear it was hard enough to tent your shirt through your bra, though you know that no one could actually see it. Catching yourself deep in thought and unmoving, you practically jump back into action, nervously laughing and continuing your story where you left off, moving quickly through the exhibit. As you walk and talk, you find your eyes continually drifting to his hands, and you can't help replaying the pinch over and over again in your head. He still isn't saying a hell of a lot, but enough to keep you talking. What he isn't doing or saying is anything that would indicate that a moment ago, he groped you, damn it. You can feel the dampness creeping into your panties, as you feel the phantom fingers again and again on your nipple. Distracted as you are, you turn a corner and realize you're in a dead end, out of sight from the main exhibit. You turn as he closes the distance between you, the strong hands wrapping around your body, pulling you closer and pushing you back against a wall at the same time. Before you can do anything - move, protest, think - he's kissing you. Too surprised to resist, you open your mouth and kiss him back, feeling his tongue in your mouth, a hand squeezing your ass. Pressing you against the wall, his other hand comes down and presses into your hot crotch, and your pussy seems to throb in response. Moaning into his mouth, you find yourself trying to grind into his hand, his body pressed up against you. You can feel his hard cock against your leg through the layers of cloth. As quickly as he started, he pulls away, leaving you against the wall, dazed. Reaching forward, he pinches and twists both your nipples, pulling on them and licks up your neck, giving it a tender kiss. Then he's gone again, and, "Common, let's go." You can't even keep up your normal chatter as he leads you out from the alcove, acting as if nothing happened. He's quiet as ever, and you're hornier than you could've believed possible an hour ago. You try and focus on the work, but can't, and he keeps brushing those hands up against you. Those fucking hands! You can still feel them on your nipples, the pain mixing with throbbing pleasure, on your ass and crotch, your wet, wet crotch. Snapping out of it with a start, you see him looking at you with a bemused expression, and your natural flush deepens. Luckily, you're on your last exhibit at this point, because you feel like you're about to go fucking crazy if you don't get something now. You're hyper-sensitive to his every move, almost gasping at every touch. Less than a minute later, you're both on your way out of the exhibit, and you almost trust yourself enough to speak again. Then it happens. Passing a janitor's closet, he grabs you, opens the door, and pulls you both in. Closing the door behind him, you're engulfed in dim light, barely able to see. But you hear very clearly the bolt slide into place. Heart beating faster now, you feel him roughly pull you towards him, and again you're pressed up against him, kissing him, feeling his whole body against yours. Kissing his way down to the side of your neck, you almost melt as his mouth and tongue make their way down and back up it. Pulling back a little, you feel his hands on your shirt, and before you can protest, it's up and off your head. The bra he doesn't bother unhooking, he just grabs it and snaps the straps, pulling it off. Right away, his head drops down to lick and suck your breasts and abused nipples while his hands drop to your pants. Moaning, you press yourself up against his hands as they undo and drop your pants. His hand comes up to cup your cunt through your sopping wet panties, and he bites your nipple, forcing a short yelp from you. Then your panties are down, and he's back up, getting rid of his shirt on the way. His mouth meets yours again, and immediately you are kissing, biting his bottom lip, trying not to cry out as his hand digs into your ass, the other quickly stroking your clit. Breaking the kiss, he spins you around and bends you down over a table you can barely see in the dark. A second later, you feel a cock pressing against your pussy. Gasping, you push back against it as it enters and pumps into you for the first time. Your cunt is full, and he's stroking in and out now. His hands, originally on your hips as he entered from behind, move up to your tender, abused nipples. They begin playing with them, squeezing lightly, twisting and pulling. Then harder, sending jolts down your body to merge with those coming from your cunt as it's being fucked. You feel yourself building up, your pussy and nipples more sensitive as you approach orgasm. "Oh god, mmmmmMMMMMM, OHH!" You explode and begin thrashing about as he fucks you. Then he's exploding too, cumming inside you. Pulling out a minute later, he places your hand on his cock, only half hard now. Still laying face-down on the table, you slowly stroke it, feeling it come alive in your hand, while he continues to play with your clit and nipples. When it's hard again, he stops your hand and moves it aside again. Feeling him enter you again, you moan, and keep moaning as he starts fucking you again, this time with his hands on your hips to keep pumping in hard. Then he pauses, pulls out, and you're left confused for a second. Then it's back, pushing slowly but insistently against your asshole. He's going to fuck you up the ass! "No..." you start to moan, but then the head slips in, and all you can do is hold your breath at the fullness of it. Using his hand on your hips, he slowly presses in and is soon buried up to the hilt. You've never felt so full before in your life, and you can feel it pushing down through the walls of your cunt. A few seconds later, he's pushing in and out of you. Despite yourself, you feel your cunt getting wet again at the sensations in your ass. One of his hands is down now, playing with your clit, stroking it, rubbing it. Soon, he's built up to a fast pace, and you're moaning loudly. Your clit is now getting the occasional pinch along with rubbing, and the sharp sensations are rolling up your body. As the other hand begins to squeeze and knead your abused breasts, you can feel orgasm distantly approaching again. You can't believe it, you're going to get off with this guy up your ass. Building up faster and faster, the sensations engulf your entire body in a painful ecstasy.Soon you feel yourself buckle, your nipple, clit, and cunt screaming out in a marked counterpoint to the pounding of your ass, and you plunge over the edge, cumming again. You feel his cock jerking as he releases another load up your ass. Then he's off you again, and you lay there for a moment, letting your heart settle down. He helps you up and hands you your clothing, though you notice your panties and bra are gone. Putting everything on, you can't help but gasp as the fabric of your shirt runs over your sensitive nipples, or your pants touch your sensitive crotch. Wrapping an arm around your waist, he unbolts the door and leads you back out into the museum. You're a little self-conscious walking around commando, feeling every little breeze through your shirt, but the strong arm around you reassures you. Reaching the lobby, he smiles at you again. "It was really nice meeting you, Sara. I hope I get to see you again soon. Talk to you tonight." With that, he gives you a hug, a short kiss, and a quick ass squeeze before walking off, leaving you standing, dazed in the lobby of the museum.	null	null	Authors/Grazz/Meeting.txt
86,898	Grazz	Your First Night	You've finally arrived at college. It feels weird, for the first time in your life, you're on your own. Really on your own - the rest of the dorm doesn't move in for another two days. You spend a long time lugging all your stuff up to your room and setting it up. Finishing some time later, you head out to find some dinner. Again, it strikes you - you're finally on your own. You eat your fill and head back to your dorm room. It's a dark night, the moon and stars hidden behind a thick layer of clouds, but pleasantly warm. The path is well lit, and you enjoy the walk back, thinking of your new life. You get up to your room and spend some time online, chatting to people about your new room and the campus. Around midnight, you're feeling pretty tired from the move and log off. Getting up slowly, you turn off the lights and settle into your new bed. 'So this is what it feels like to live on my own. Hell, it's not that bad.' Grinning to yourself, you let sleep creep over you and soon you're dreaming. Something startles you awake... blinking back the sleep, you squint for a second, but it's too dark to see anything. Waiting for another minute, you start to go back to sleep and begin to close your eyes when - there it is again! Suddenly, a dark shadow appears over your bed, and you feel strong hands grab your wrists. "Don't say a fucking word," a voice floats out of the darkness. Struggling violently, you try and kick out at the shadow. One of the hands comes down and grabs your shirt, yanking hard to rip it off - everything is moving so fast. A leg connects with his side, and grunting, he falls onto you. Pushing him off, you roll out of bed and try to run, but his strong hands roughly pull you back. He throws you down face first and yanks down your panties. Kicking helplessly, you feel one strong hand press down the small of your back while the other squeezes your ass. Your assailant pulls off his shirt and shifts over to pull down his pants. One of your hands shoots out, raking across his chest. He's surprised enough to let go for a second, and you sit up fast. Recovering fast, he knocks you back down with a slap to the face, then grabs a handful of hair and yanks you up the bed. His other hand is between your legs, roughly forcing two fingers into your wet pussy. Pulling your head up, he locks mouths with you, tongues intertwining. You bite and taste blood as he pulls back grinning, one lip bleeding. He grabs handcuffs from a pocket in the time it takes you to sink your nails into his chest. Temporarily removing the fingers from your pussy, he grabs your hands and, hooking them over a bed post, he struggles to lock you down while you try and squirm a knee into position. Clicking the cuffs into position, he shifts just enough for you to catch a glancing blow on his balls. Falling back a bit, he looks down at you, a sadistic gleam in his eyes, "You'll pay for that, bitch." Rising up, he reaches over and grabs something you can't quite make out, and brings it over you. He raises it, and just for a second, it's silhouetted - a crop! It whistles down, and a line of red-hot pain appears on the underside of your right tit. You shriek as your tit and pussy throb from the pain. His other hand goes back to its assault on your pussy, and the crop whips down again, your left tit immersed in the sudden pain. As he brings down the crop again and again, you're sobbing, moaning, overwhelmed from the heat radiating from your tits and pussy. Even as he flogs your tits, you can feel yourself building up to an orgasm. He catches you right across both nipples, and your pussy starts convulsing around the four fingers now buried inside you. Lifting up your now limp body, he turns you over and tucks your knees under you. Feeling him disappear for a second, you shudder and relax, slumping down, still feeling little convulsions in your cunt. Then he's back, with a smack to your ass. You let out a halfhearted moan, and he chuckles, a dark chuckle. You feel your ass cheeks being spread, and something cold and slimy drips onto your asshole. You moan again as you feel something rubbery rub it, then worm its way in. You gasp as it slides farther and farther in, stretching your asshole. Then it's buried all the way, and you feel incredibly full; that's when it starts vibrating. Gasping again, you jerk back, and feel the vibrations worm their way through the wall into your pussy. Suddenly, you feel something pushing its way into your pussy as well, but this feels more... it's a cock! Remembering suddenly that you're being raped, you begin to thrash around, but that only increases the sensation of the cock in your pussy, separated by a thin wall from the vibrator in your ass. Grabbing both your bruised tits, pinching the sore, hard nipples between his strong fingers, he starts to pound into you, speeding up quickly. You begin to cry out at all the sensations, tits a mix of pleasure/pain, ass and pussy fuller than they've ever been before! Vibrations forming a counterpoint to the cock's in and out thrusting, you begin buckling back against it, riding it for all you're worth. The tempo increases even further, and your moans turn into screams as you feel another orgasm building. The sensations are too intense; you don't know whether you are screaming from pleasure or simple overload! Then the orgasm hits, and you buckle wildly, cunt spasming, stars swimming in front of your eyes. You feel his dick continue its thrusting, driving you insane. Then it's jerking around inside of you! His cum deep in your pussy, you both slump down, you still twitching from the vibrator in your ass. He slowly pulls out and gives your clit a flick. You jump and moan at the sharp pain but slump back down from exhaustion. You feel the vibrator being pulled out of your ass, and his weight disappears from the bed for a second. The cuffs around your wrists loosen and disappear, but you're too tired to move, and you just look up at the shadow standing over you. You hear his voice again, "I'll be back." The moon moves out from behind the clouds for a second and throws a little light in the window, and for the first time tonight, you can make out his face. You freeze for a second, not quite believing your eyes. Then you lower your eyes, "Bye Grazz." He grins and winks at you, then walks out the door, turning back his head for just a moment, "Bye, hun." Le Fin	null	null	Authors/Grazz/Your First Night.txt

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