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Lake Fun
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Having driven to the most deserted side of the lake, we park and get
out of the '65 Mustang, lay a soft blanket on the beach, and curl up
together in the moonlight. Soft breezes and weather warm to the
touch, the sand is soft and the trees rustle their approval.
Mesmerized by your intense gaze, breath catches in my throat and I
feel my insides melt. You lean towards me, and under your well-worn
T-shirt and jeans subtle hints of muscle ripple in response. I part
my lips, darting my tongue out nervously, unconsciously. As your lips
touch mine, my eyes close and my desire soars. My body moves to mold
itself to yours, to impress itself on every inch of your lithe frame.
I breathe deeply, hotly, my hands becoming bolder in their
acquaintanceship with your thighs, your back, your neck. My mouth
works its way down to the base of your throat and my fingers rouse
themselves to claw at your t-shirt. I lift it off you, over your
head, and lean over beside you, praising you with my glance of obvious
lust. My mouth wetly traces licks of moonlight across your torso. My
lips come to rest lightly on your shoulders, nipples, and eventually,
your neck and ears. I dare to whisper what I'd like to do to you, and
you try to roll me over so you can lie on top of me. Firmly I push
you back down. I am in control.
My tongue continues its journey, the wet traces it leaves turned cool
by my breath. My mouth reaches your waistband and my tongue
insinuates itself below it. With my teeth I unbuckle your belt, and
with unusual determination, I use my mouth to unbutton and unzip your
pants. You, unable to wait, ease your jeans and underwear down over
your hips. Taking in the gorgeous view, I pull them off over your
feet. Your smooth cock stands at rapt attention, begging to be
swallowed.
I tease before I please, and proceed to lick your thighs, trailing
soft auburn hair in a delicious way over your eager prick. My tongue
lightly touches your balls, as I outline them gently, working my way
up. Without using my hands, I place my tongue and lips over your
cockhead. It glistens in the moonlight as I raise my mouth and lick
my way up and down the sides of your shaft. Holding the base with
trembling fingers, I envelop your rod with my mouth, swallowing you to
the hilt. With that familiar technique, I proceed to prove my
prowess. You moan in response to my dazzling talent, and experience
the velvet insanity of my hot, wet mouth. Your hips move, showing me
the rhythm you want, your fingers playing tremblingly through my froth
of auburn hair.
I lift my head for a moment, resting my tongue and letting my fingers
slide up and down your wet cock to keep the rhythm going. I watch
your concentration shatter as you look up from your silent reverie.
You ask me to get back to work. I decline. You beg, again, plead,
finally promising me anything if only I'll finish you off. My mouth
lowers itself to your straining shaft and I can taste the salt-sweet
of your come as you thrust into my mouth. You moan and shudder and I
can feel your cock pumping its honey down my slick throat as you
shiver your last and collapse on the blanket. I listen to your
breathing as it mingles with the sound of the waves lapping the beach
nearby.
After you recover yourself, you thank me with a knowing grin and
proceed to push me over on my back. I give in, unwillingly, and you
proceed, with hands and mouth, to change my attitude. Reticent, at
first, I yield eventually to your desire. You are in charge now. You
rain hot kisses on my lips, neck, shoulders...reaching for the buttons
of my blouse. You, at a glance, suddenly realize I have no bra on and
your finger redouble their efforts to remove my flimsy, sheer blouse.
You unbutton it halfway and patience runs out. Your fingers are
eager to stroke my straining nipples, maul my pert breasts. Your
mouth joins mine in a mind-blowing duet as I feel your half-hard rod
returning to its former dimensions.
You lie next to me, side by side. My fingers caress your back, your
ass, your thighs, as you ease off my pants and lace underwear. I lie
awash in moonlight and uncontrollable desire. As if for the first
time, flesh meets flesh in a full embrace, and we tangle tongues for a
while as our sexuality comes to the fore. I start stroking your
now-hard cock with an eager hand. You whisper your intentions and my
cunt grows slick with anticipation. You fingers move over my mound as
they insinuate themselves into my hot slit. I tremble and moan as you
pursue your endeavors. My breath comes quick - quicker - and I
shudder to a massive climax.
Recovering myself, I get a really mischievous look in my eye. Before you
can stop me, I am up and out of reach. I walk into the lake until I'm
knee-deep in water. I hesitate, and your heart flickers at the sight of
the moonlight glancing off my pearly loins, and bathing my shapely ass in a
light-caress.
You watch intently as I dive in and swim a ways. Then I stand, thigh deep
in water; the blouse, thin to begin with, clings to my body and accentuates
my curves. You stand, and run over to touch me again - to hold me. As you
wade out, you notice the moonlight caught in the water that shimmers on my
body. You pull at the blouse. The buttons remove themselves as you
hastily tear it from my body. You throw it aside. casting it to the tides
as you envelop me in your warm embrace. You scoop me up in your arms -
warm and wet and wonderful - and carry me back to the car.
You lay me gently on the still-warm metal. Your cock is hard and
eager to share. You stand to one side of the car, pulling me to you.
You lean forward and start teasing my clit with the swollen head of
your rod. I moan, and my legs spread wide - ready and willing to
accommodate. My hips begin to rock with your motion, begging you to
enter me because if you don't you know I'll go insane. You part the
lips of my pussy with your cock and proceed to spread me wide with
your manhood. I proceed to go insane anyway.
As you slide into my tight snatch in a slow but determined way, my
juices start to flow, easing your motions. The friction - in and out
- has me bucking and moaning soon. Wanting more and more, my
breathing quickens, becomes more ragged. I bite my lip gently, my
eyes closed, until I come. You watch me intently, knowing only you can
bring me this much pleasure. You feel me pulling you into me deeper,
whimpering, calling out your name. You feel me getting hotter and
wetter as I shudder and shiver through climax after climax. You take
your time - fast and then slow - deep and wild or smooth and shallow.
You take a breather every now and then, knowing we are building up to
something rivaled only by paradise itself. You keep sawing back and
forth, pumping away, moving with me, against me, inside me. Our
fucking is paced in rapid double-time as the urgent need in use rises,
rears its head, and reaches its fullest pitch. In the throes of
ecstasy, you thrust mindlessly into me, time and time again, both of
us arching with desire, dripping with intermingling sweat, wanting
only to see the sunshine of a mutual climax. The end nears, we come,
moving as one, like molten metal, good as gold. Crying out, reaching,
clasping, enfolding, grasping, we satisfy each other entirely.
Afterwards, we lie still, the warm hood of the car beneath me tingles as we
move together slowly, resting. Withdrawing, you sigh and look at me with
sparkling eyes. I respond in kind, and we drink from each others wants,
needs and desires. There is no need for words, and we return to the
blanket to lapse into a restful night of sleeping locked in one another's
arms. Even the moon smiles down on us, as the trees gently whisper their
approval and the sound of the gentle waves lapping at the shore mingle with
our own still breathing....
--------------------
Designated Driver
Rrrring. ``Hello? Oh, hi Mat. How's it going? ... Great! Party? Sure, you
can always count me in. When? ... Next Saturday? Sure, no problem, man. See
ya then, then.''
Somehow, I survived another week. It's Saturday and I said I'll go to Mat's
Christmas Night Out. Mat and I goes back a long way. We've known each other
since high school. It's strange why we would even be friends. He's the
really outgoing type who looks like the models in GQ. I'm almost the exact
opposite. Well, he called and said everyone is to arrive between 6:30 pm and
7:00 pm.
``Glad you made it,'' he greeted me at the door.
``No problem, bud.''
I arrived fairly early and we had to wait for a few more guys.
``Is D'arcy coming?'' Mat asked.
``I called. He said his wife wouldn't let him out!''
``That's it then. Let's move out. Hey, Jake, you are our designated driver
tonight. Think you can handle the van.''
``Well,'' so that's why I'm here. Well, I don't mind. Just glad to be out of
the house. ``I only have class 5.''
``Don't worry. It's power steering and power brake. Very easy to handle.
It's just the one parked outside. If you really can't then I'll do it.''
Out the door we headed. ``No problem man. I can handle this.'' It's a rented
family size van, with about three rows of seats behind the front two seats.
It comfortably seated all ten of us. I got myself all comfy at the driver
seat and away we go. The van handled like a dream, but parking was a bit
hairy though. Almost smashed into a couple of cars. We headed for town,
hitting several strip joints. These guys are getting totally pissed. I think
I'm the only one who doesn't drink at all. I guess that why he'd think of
me.
At about midnight, we decided to head for a carbaret to pick up some chicks.
When we arrived, I grabbed a chair and sat down at an empty table. Mat, like
his usual self, was on the dance floor almost instantly, dancing with this
great looking babe. The other guys are off everywhere. Some off to do more
drinking, others went to the back room to shoot pool.
This is a cozy little place. The crowded dance floor is lit with colour
strobes that flashed to the beat of the music. On the walls hung dimly lit
neon sketches. As the live band pound out the beat on the stage, a timid
looking lady sat in a corner table, sipping on a coke. There is a different
air about her that's different from the other women in the place. Just
doesn't look like the kind of girl that comes to these sort of places.
After staring at her for a while, I was just too curious to hold back, so I
took my chances and walked over to her.
``Hello. May I join you for a while?''
``Well...Ah ...''
``Don't worry, I won't bite.''
``I guess it's ok. My friends might be back soon, though''
``I won't be long. I was just wondering why aren't you joining your friends
on the floor.'' Boy, that was dumb.
``I don't know how to dance,'' she said quietly.
``Pardon me?''
``I don't know how to dance,'' she raised her voice a bit, trying to get it
above the music.
``Oh. I'm not too good either. You don't look like you come here often. Your
first time here?''
``Yes.''
``Me too.'' Do we have an echo here or what. ``I guess you are the desig
driver.''
``What?''
``I gues you are the desig driver, like me.''
``Yes. I'm the only one who don't drink. So they called me.''
``The music is kind of loud in here. Mind if we go to some place more quiet
to chat? Have some fresh air?''
``Well...my friends...''
``It'll be just outside. Better than just sitting in here, breathing all the
second hand smoke.''
``Well,'' she said, spying her friends on the dance floor. ``I guess that's
ok.''
The night air is getting chilly. Fog is settling in for the evening, but the
fresh air is a welcomed relieve.
``Pardon me, I haven't even introduce myself. I'm Jake.''
``I'm Shirley.''
We got more acquainted as we stroll around the place. I found out that she's
the assistant manager of the personnel department of a local engineering
firm. Her collegues were having their Christmas celebration tonight 'cause
one of them is to leave for Tasmania tomorrow for the holiday season. She
was the only one in the office who don't drink, so they asked her to come
along and be the designated driver.
It's about 1:00 in the morning and the temperature was dipping below zero.
Even with our overcoat and sweater, the cold is starting to bite in. With
our van parked right in front of the joint, I suggested we can get in the
van to get out of the cold.
``OK,'' she replied. ``You drove this thing around town?''
``Yeah. We hit a couple of strip joints downtown, and almost a few cars
too!''
She returned a big grin. I turned on the radio for some background music. I
found myself sat there, staring into her hazel eyes, mesmerized. I didn't
know what to say, just staring at her. She didn't seem to care for any
conversation either. So, we just sat there listening the ``White Christmas''
on the radio. I reached over to get nearer to her. She closed her eyes. Our
lips met. Our tongues were exploring each other as we tightly embraced each
other as if our lives depends on it.
As my left hand held on to the back of her head, I let my right hand move
beneath her overcoat and sweater. One by one, the buttons of her blouse was
undone. She let out a low moan as her bra was unhooked in front. Her nipples
grew hard and erect as I massage her breasts, running my thumb over the hard
tips, squeezing them gently. Our breathing is getting shorter as her hands
found my belt buckle and
undid it. My right hand now moves lower over her stomach as we both lowered
ourselves on to the floor of the van. She unzip my pants and pulled my
shorts and pants to my knees, releasing a fully erect penis. I kicked off
my shoes to let her remove my pants the rest of the way. I turned around,
straddling her face. She moaned quietly as she slowly takes the dick in. As
I unzip and remove her pants, she flicked her tongue around the tip of my
dick. As I slowly roll down her drenched panty, she was taking my whole dick
in. Gently, I rubbed her hard clits, sticking one, then two fingers up her
cunt. She purred with approval as she sucked hard on my penis.
Her tongue reached out for more as it flicked pass my balls and around to
the edge of my asshole. Now I replace my fingers with my sensitive tongue,
drinking in her juice. I gues I do drink after all. We were sweating in our
heavy overcoats, but was enjoying the 69 too much to bother. We just lifted
the bottom of the sweaters and shirts enough out of our way.
She bucked and twisted as my tongue searches its way inside her. I removed
my dick from her mouth as it was about to come. She reluctantly gave it up
as a baby from her bottle. Kneeling on my knees now, I spread her legs,
lifting them about my waist. She grabbed on tight, pulling me in. The head
of my dick just teased her cunt as I let it rub all around her lips. This
was driving her crazy as she moaned,``FUCK me. Please.'' Being not one who
refuses requests from a friend, I slid the whole six inch into her. She let
out a scream, wrapping her legs even tighter around my waist. It didn't take
long before she climaxed into a frenzy of orgasm. A few seconds later I
followed, shooting my load deep inside her.
I just laid on top of her exhausted, my dick still inside her.
``The weatherman predicts fog with sunny periods today, highs around 6
and lows at -2. Right now the temperature is -1, at 2 o'clock Sunday
morning...'' As the radio annoucer goes on, I kissed her gently.
``I guess we better get dressed,'' I suggested.
Quietly, we put our pants back on. She tidied her blouse and hair.
``Do you have time tomorrow night?''
``Sure. Here, call me tomorrow, OK?''
``For sure.''
The rest of the guys gathered back at the van a bit later, and we headed for
home about 2:30 in the morning.
``Had a great evening, bud?''
``Not bad.''
``Thanks a million for driving us.''
``No sweat. Any time.''
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-
A NEW YEAR
Mark had not enjoyed New Year's Eve since the year in high school when he and
Buddy waited outside the liquor store and scored a bottle of gin a college guy
bought for them. Since then, he'd gone to polite parties, made uneasy
chitchat, and left alone soon after midnight.
Still, Mark had been glad when Buddy phoned him at the dorm. New Year's party
at Greg's house. Sure, why not? Now, as he drove down the hill toward Greg's,
Mark began his pre-party confidence rap:
Weight: check. Actually I'm thin right now. Tall, dark and thin. Hair looks
good. Sharp new sweater. Remember to drink the first beer fast. Be loose.
Smile. Circulate. Meet all available women. Look into their eyes, deeply,
deeply. You are irresistible, sensitve, patient--oh, so patient. Hell, I was
patient with Dora. Left high school a virgin. Wish I'd stayed one after laying
that nympho Margaret while Will watched. Okay, this party isn't a swap meet,
just the old gang looking for a good time. And this year, I am going to have a
good time!!
And it wasn't a bad time at all. Ten guys, ten women, about half couples, half
singles. Mark downed three beers trading notes with the guys, and then found
himself warmly reminiscing with Sue, his first date ever in junior high. Sue
was majoring in forestry at UC Davis and had been seeing a guy named Robert
for more than a year. That revelation made Mark both time-conscious and guilty
that he was losing interest in Sue's story.
Mark politely disengaged, then wandered into a conversation with Buddy and
Janet, seldom shall they part, Walter and Vivian, and Elaine.
Elaine. A monument, Elaine. Nearly straight A's in high school, friendly but
aloof. Promising curves. Dark, curly hair. A too-understanding look. Mark had
not been ready for an Elaine, and now, as he glanced up at her, a sensation of
chilling anxiety overwhelmed him.
Elaine was not smiling at him the way people smile at parties. She was smiling
as if he had returned from the seas, as if ...
"I was hoping you'd be here, Mark."
(Okay, get it together. Steady, steady. Smile. Good.) "It's great to see you
Elaine. How's Berkeley?"
Unbelievable. The others were wandering off. Elaine walked up to him, The
Smile playing across her soft, wise face. "Berkeley has its moments, but I
want to know about you. Let's sit down somewhere."
Detour for beer. A couch. Elaine: "Mark, I don't want to make you uptight, but
I promised myself this if you were at the party, so here it goes. In high
school, I always hoped you'd take me out. I was too shy to do anything about
it, or about dating at all. I know we're different now, but maybe we can leave
early and find out about each other.
Twenty after midnight. Mark and Elaine at Howard Johnson's, ignoring burgers.
Mark, wondering whether he's simply digging being wanted or whether the
incredible pull he's feeling toward Elaine is real. She tells him about her
two lovers, her two breakups, the pressure of her studies, the longing she
feels for a relationship with all the trimmings--care, support, sharing.
There's no question about the entree.
Mark relates his non-history candidly. "Dora and I were shy, even after a
year. I think our shyness about sex kept us from getting close in other ways.
At UCLA it's been a lot of studying, a few dates and that magic encounter with
Margaret. But this is going to be my year."
"Do you know what you want, Mark? What's your image?"
"Equal parts libido and friendship. She's a bit overwhelmed taking care of her
Uncle Fred's summer home at Malibu. She spots me one day as I'm handily
repairing the dorm bike rack. She asks me if I can lend her a hand at the
beach. The beginning of an epoch."
Elaine, smiling and shaking her head with delight: "My folks are in Hawaii and
one of the kitchen cabinet doors is loose. Want to tempt fate?"
In the front door two steps and locked in a clinch. Elaine's lips like melting
butter, her tongue gently inquisitive. Mark's hands wildly stroking her back,
her sides, her ass. Elaine, clutching at his shoulders, rubbing his hair.
On the floor, frenching, tearing off each other's clothes. His tongue rolling
through neck hollow and down, into the valley of her breasts, now up, reveling
in the firmness of her left nipple. She moans as he sucks, hard, his right
hand moving to her other breast, stroking, kneading, pressing and rolling the
nipple. His left hand finds her hot and moist. His middle finger probes,
joined by an index finger with radar for her clit. Her moans become higher,
shorter bursts that spur him to stronger movements with his fingers, harder
stroking with his tongue as he sucks. With a sustained scream Elaine arches
and comes.
Mark has never felt so virile, competent and hot. Resting on an elbow, waiting
for Elaine's panting to subside, he focuses on his cock. (Fuck her, you're
gonna fuck her hard, fuck her, fuck her.) It's turning him on too much. He
shakes off the sensation and blurts: "Pill, you on the pill?"
"Yes, and no diseases. If you have any problems, say so fast," and she slides
around to his ramrod and takes the head in her mouth, rolling her tongue
around it, sucking. Mark lets out a loud "aaaaaaaaah!!" and reaches for her
ass. He pushes her to him and plunges his tongue into her. She is slowly
moving her lips up and down on him, grabbing handfulls of his ass. Mark's
going to pop soon, but he is light years beyond restraint. Unbelievably, she
rolls under him, and says, "Go." Mark manages four strokes and explodes.
In the shower together. Mark: "Why me, Elaine?"
"I liked your mind, and I thought you were cute. I fantasized about you. I
can't believe it's happening like this."
"Shut your eyes, Elaine." Kneeling down to her, tongue on her, in her, the hot
water playing on his back, her taste and silkiness and the return of her moans
reawakening him. Thinking he could die this way.
"Mark, it's so intense! Let's dry each other off."
As he tamped at Elaine, Mark was struck by the whiteness of her skin and the
beauty of her breasts, large, firm and crowned by delicate pink tits, hard
nipples. Her hand reached for him, found him ready. "Perfect," she said. They
both laughed as his cock bobbed.
In bed. In Elaine. Enjoying self-control, and her moans, her soft walls, her
breasts, her. Steady, serious strokes. Elaine's feet up and around him. "Give
it to me Mark, do it." Mindsnap. Banging, pumping, fucking her, hard. More,
more. Fucking, fucking, and that scream again, high and sustained. Mark felt
the come rising. He slammed again, again, as hard as he could, his mind
flashing vivid emerald patterns as an incredible spurt surged through him and
his screams joined Elaine's. Mark blasted and yelled, felt turned inside out,
saw colors never seen, felt pleasure beyond imagination, and then, still
pumping and never wanting to stop, he snapped clear. There lay Elaine, gasping
and smiling, still moving with him. Their eyes gently engaged and they held
each other tightly as the aftershocks subsided.
*******************************************************************************
This story may be offensive to some, as it contains referances to the
Brady Bunch.
It also contains less offensive things such as non-consensual sodomy
between siblings, bestiality involving vibrators, and traditional
sexual stereotypes.
This is VERY tasteless. Read at your own risk.
It was a warm, sunny day. A typical day at the Brady household. The
suburban neighborhood was alive with the sounds of children playing
touch football in the street, dogs barking, and cars cruising. Yes, life was
beautiful that day----just as life is ALWAYS beautiful at the Brady's.
Marsha had just gotten home from high school with Greg and Peter. Jan
and Cindy had come home in Mom's car. But, just like it does every
weekend, the Brady household was cumming alive.
Yes. Mom and Dad had gone out to a dinner engagement with some of Mike's
clients. They werent going to be home till about 12 that night. Plenty
of time to PLAY!
Greg already had the speed out, and was laying a couple of lines for him
and Peter. Just then, Marsha came into the room.
"Gee, Greg, that speed of yours sure is groovy! Think I can have some?"
Greg decided that a little speed was what the entire Brady household needed
that night.
"Everyone up to MY room! Time to start the evening!"
Everybody ran up the stairs to Greg's room, even Alice and Tiger. They
all KNEW what Friday night meant up in Greg's room. Not only speed and
dope, but if they were lucky, maybe a bit of a "family affair" might start
up, like it did LAST Friday. That would be great! Groovy!
Once everybody had sniffed a bit of Greg's magic powder, Peter asked the
group if it wanted to play "GQ Model", like they did last Friday.
"YAAAAAAY!" said Cindy. She loved this game. So did Bobby! Oh yeah...
Bobby LOVED GQ Model! Because it was always Bobby that got to pose for
the group.
The rest of the family never told Bobby (cause they figured he'd be upset)
that the pictures of him were sent to that strange man down the street to
be used for some magazine that none of them had ever heard of. Yes....
In fact, Peter once said that he SAW some of the Bobby pictures a couple
of weeks after playing GQ Model. Peter was in a drugstore, and he saw
the picture that HE took of Bobby outside on the jungle jim. It was the
picture where you could see Greg's hands doing something to Bobby's privates.
It was making Bobby hard for the camera.
Anyway, everybody at this point was shaking and sweating profusely cause
of Greg's great speed. Alice was already pulling out her vibrator, and
nervously fingering the switch. Everytime she made it go WRRRRRRRR, Tiger
would start to wag his tail. Tiger KNEW what Alice's "Love Gun" could
do to a feisty beat up mutt.
Marsha walked over to Bobby and started to unbutton his shirt.
"No!", cried Bobby, "I'll unbutton my shirt, and I want Peter to pull my
pants down, like last week!"
Bobby got his way. Like he always did. They knew that if they let
Bobby call some of the shots early in the GQ game, Bobby would owe each
of them a few favors. Heh heh heh.
When Peter had finally taken Bobby's underwear off, the group was already
visibly getting excited. "Gosh, if only Mom and Dad could be here, like
they were last Friday..." Bobby always wished that his Mom and Dad could
take part in the family fun each week, but sometimes they just HAD to miss
it (even though it hurt them so).
Greg got out his two pairs of handcuffs. He gave one pair to Jan and the
other pair to Cindy. He told both of them to take ALL their clothes off
first, and then to cuff Bobby to the desk. Tiger, meanwhile was jumping
up and down----he knew what was NEXT!
"OK, TIGER! Show Bobby how much you love him!"
Tiger ran over to bondage Bobby, and gave him a tongue bath, paying special
attention to those VERY special little boy areas. Yes. Tiger knew how
Bobby liked it. All this experience hadn't gone to waste on this dumb
canine.
Alice, meanwhile, had gone into the Brady's bathroom to get Mrs. Brady's
special jar of mentholatum cold cream, and she wasnt going to fix her makeup!
No.....Alice was going to give Marsha that VERY special treatment that Marsha
always begged for. You see, Marsha loved to look at all her brothers naked,
while she had the live-in maid grease her up for some serious anal sex. Yes,
and Greg ALWAYS loved to join in.
While the flashbulbs were popping in Greg's room, and Bobby's giggling
could be heard across the hall, Greg took Marsha to their parent's
bedroom. They knew that it was ok to screw in Mom and Dad's room,
because Carol and Mike ALWAYS commented on the wonderful smell the
room had after such encounters. They knew perfectly well that it was
their own daughter's rectum they were smelling----but what the hell,
if it turns you on, right?
Greg pounced on Marsha and started grabbing her pubic hair. He pulled
it out in tufts, while groaning in her ear like a mule.
"The SONG! THE SONG" Marsha demanded. She always LOVED it when Greg
sodomized her while singing "the song".
"OK, Marsha, you got it."
"I-N-C...
E-S-T...
That's what sister means to me."
Greg continued to sing this silly nurseryrhime as he vigorously screwed
his sister. Yes. Greg had always lusted after Marsha! Ever since the
whole family went mule packing the Grand Canyon, and Greg rode right
behind Marsha and her creamy pre-pubescent little butt, Greg just
couldnt get her out of his mind. That is----when he wasnt thinking
about Peter.
When Marsha and Greg were done, they went back into Greg's room to see
how the GQ Model game was progressing.
"Sorry Bobby, we ran out of film...", Peter explained to the obviously
dejected Bobby. "Maybe next week, we can take MOVIES of you with Dad's camera,
instead."
Bobby seemed somewhat comforted by this consolation.
Alice jumped up in front of the group! "OK! Now its time for my favorite
game! NAKED TWISTER!"
"YAAAAAAAAAY!" Everyone was excited. They all loved it when Alice would
whip out her Twister game.
Cindy was first. Spreading far, she put her right foot on the blue dot,
and her left hand on the red dot. Everyone jumped in immediately when
they saw the awesome sight of a juicy, fresh 7 year old girl spreading
for the family.
"Me NEXT!", demanded Jan. She nestled in REAL close to Cindy's smooth warm
flesh. Peter was next, his obvious erection rubbing up and down in Cindy's
face. Cindy eagerly gobbled it up. But Peter pulled his cock out soon, cause
Cindy was just TERRIBLE at giving head. They had tried many times out back in
Tiger's doghouse, but she just couldnt seem to keep her teeth out of the way.
"Forget it Cindy, you stink at dicksuck!"
"Sorry..."
"I want Bobby to suck MY weenie! Bobby will suck anything! He likes it,
hey Bobby!!!!!!!"
Yes, Bobby really enjoyed Peter's weenie in his mouth. Now the entire
group of Brady children was piled in one naked heap on Alice's Twister
game. Alice ran into Mike's study to get Mike's VCR.
"Mr. and Mrs. Brady SURE wouldnt want to miss THIS!!!" Alice exclaimed!
No, Mr. and Mrs. Brady DIDNT want to miss this. They had been trying to
get all the kids together on the Twister game for WEEKS! But since,
Jan had had the clap last week and the week before, they couldnt do it.
"Give Tiger your Love Gun, Alice! Come on! PLEASE???!", the kids cried.
Tiger always loves it at high speed.
"Can I help???", asked Greg. Greg really liked to help insert the plastic
toy while beating off. It really gave him a thrill.
"Sure, Greg, no problem."
WRRRRRRRRRRRRRR, went the Love Gun, and Greg started to furiously beat
off while staring intently into Tiger's love-filled eyes. The dog
shot its load easily, like it always does.
"Gosh golly, Tiger, can't you EVER hold out??", cried Cindy. She always
wished that Tiger had a little more staying power than he did. I guess that's
because of all the times that Tiger had shot his load early while with Cindy.
You know how unsatifying that can be.
"Stop whining, Cindy." begged Peter. "I hate it when you whine about
Tiger being a little fast on the trigger. You know that he is sensitive about
that!"
"Sorry..." mumbled Cindy.
"Just for that you little bitch, its time to bring YOU to the playhouse!!!"
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" cried Cindy in desperation.
Yes. It was time for Cindy to learn what penetration is all about. Time
for Cindy to become a "real" woman. Peter and Greg handcuffed the little girl
to the rafters of the playhouse, suspending her above the floor.
"OWWWWWW!", cried Cindy, in obvious pain.
"You think THIS hurts you little bitch, wait until GREG whips out
BIG EDDIE!"
Alice HAD to leave at this point. She always DID love watching Cindy have
sex, but when it came to BIG EDDIE.... Well, Alice had ALREADY seen Greg's
throbbing member at work on Bobby, she realized that she really didn't need to
watch it at work on Cindy too.
Greg greased up his cock, stroking the HUGE length back and forth. Cum
was already oozing from its tip. He placed it against Cindy's pussy,
and SHOVED it in HARD! No mercy from this big brother.
Peter, meanwhile had greased up his dick with Crisco and had placed it on
Cindy's tight little rosebud butthole. OUCH! Yeah, you know it....
This was DEFINITELY going to hurt this little 7 yr old. But what the hell.
THRUUUUUUUUUUUUUSSSSSSSSSSSSST! Cindy screamed LOUDLY!
Up in the house, Marsha and Jan were busy eating one another out, when
they heard their little sister scream in pain. Immediately on hearing
this, Marsha ripped her face from Jan's bush and began to shudder wildly.
Jan had NEVER seen her sister EVER have such a quaking orgasm!!!!!!1
She bucked wildly, licking Jan's pussy juice from her chin, fingering
her clit, and she fell in a naked heap to the floor.
"Gosh, Marsha, was that all just because my cunt tastes so good??"
"No way, Jan. I just thought it was SO GROOVY to hear Cindy scream in
pain, I just COULDNT help but explode!"
"I understand...."
Well, this is a long story, that could never be told in one night.
But be sure to stay tuned to find out about what Mike and Carol did
upon returning to the Brady household! What did Mom and Dad do,
when Peter had to tell them that he had ruptured poor little Cindy's
rectum... What did Alice say when she found out that it was little
BOBBY who was stealing all of her crotchless underwear.
Find out.
Don`t say I didn't warn you it was sick.
--------------------
Having driven to the most deserted side of the lake, we park and get
out of the '65 Mustang, lay a soft blanket on the beach, and curl up
together in the moonlight. Soft breezes and weather warm to the
touch, the sand is soft and the trees rustle their approval.
Mesmerized by your intense gaze, breath catches in my throat and I
feel my insides melt. You lean towards me, and under your well-worn
T-shirt and jeans subtle hints of muscle ripple in response. I part
my lips, darting my tongue out nervously, unconsciously. As your lips
touch mine, my eyes close and my desire soars. My body moves to mold
itself to yours, to impress itself on every inch of your lithe frame.
I breathe deeply, hotly, my hands becoming bolder in their
acquaintanceship with your thighs, your back, your neck. My mouth
works its way down to the base of your throat and my fingers rouse
themselves to claw at your t-shirt. I lift it off you, over your
head, and lean over beside you, praising you with my glance of obvious
lust. My mouth wetly traces licks of moonlight across your torso. My
lips come to rest lightly on your shoulders, nipples, and eventually,
your neck and ears. I dare to whisper what I'd like to do to you, and
you try to roll me over so you can lie on top of me. Firmly I push
you back down. I am in control.
My tongue continues its journey, the wet traces it leaves turned cool
by my breath. My mouth reaches your waistband and my tongue
insinuates itself below it. With my teeth I unbuckle your belt, and
with unusual determination, I use my mouth to unbutton and unzip your
pants. You, unable to wait, ease your jeans and underwear down over
your hips. Taking in the gorgeous view, I pull them off over your
feet. Your smooth cock stands at rapt attention, begging to be
swallowed. I tease before I please, and proceed to lick your thighs,
trailing soft auburn hair in a delicious way over your eager prick.
My tongue lightly touches your balls, as I outline them gently,
working my way up. Without using my hands, I place my tongue and lips
over your cockhead. It glistens in the moonlight as I raise my mouth
and lick my way up and down the sides of your shaft. Holding the base
with trembling fingers, I envelop your rod with my mouth, swallowing
you to the hilt. With that familiar technique, I proceed to prove my
prowess. You moan in response to my dazzling talent, and experience
the velvet insanity of my hot, wet mouth. Your hips move, showing me
the rhythm you want, your fingers playing tremblingly through my froth
of auburn hair. I lift my head for a moment, resting my tongue and
letting my fingers slide up and down your wet cock to keep the rhythm
going. I watch your concentration shatter as you look up from your
silent reverie. You ask me to get back to work. I decline. You beg,
again, plead, finally promising me anything if only I'll finish you
off. My mouth lowers itself to your straining shaft and I can taste
the salt-sweet of your come as you thrust into my mouth. You moan and
shudder and I can feel your cock pumping its honey down my slick
throat as you shiver your last and collapse on the blanket. I listen
to your breathing as it mingles with the sound of the waves lapping
the beach nearby.
After you recover yourself, you thank me with a knowing grin and
proceed to push me over on my back. I give in, unwillingly, and you
proceed, with hands and mouth, to change my attitude. Reticent, at
first, I yield eventually to your desire. You are in charge now. You
rain hot kisses on my lips, neck, shoulders...reaching for the buttons
of my blouse. You, at a glance, suddenly realize I have no bra on and
your finger redouble their efforts to remove my flimsy, sheer blouse.
You unbutton it halfway and patience runs out. Your fingers are
eager to stroke my straining nipples, maul my pert breasts. Your
mouth joins mine in a mind-blowing duet as I feel your half-hard rod
returning to its former dimensions. You lie next to me, side by side.
My fingers caress your back, your ass, your thighs, as you ease off
my pants and lace underwear. I lie awash in moonlight and
uncontrollable desire. As if for the first time, flesh meets flesh in
a full embrace, and we tangle tongues for a while as our sexuality
comes to the fore. I start stroking your now-hard cock with an eager
hand. You whisper your intentions and my cunt grows slick with
anticipation. You fingers move over my mound as they insinuate
themselves into my hot slit. I tremble and moan as you pursue your
endeavors. My breath comes quick - quicker - and I shudder to a
massive climax.
Recovering myself, I get a really mischievous look in my eye. Before
you can stop me, I am up and out of reach. I walk into the lake until
I'm knee-deep in water. I hesitate, and your heart flickers at the
sight of the moonlight glancing off my pearly loins, and bathing my
shapely ass in a light-caress.
You watch intently as I dive in and swim a ways. Then I stand, thigh
deep in water; the blouse, thin to begin with, clings to my body and
accentuates my curves. You stand, and run over to touch me again - to
hold me. As you wade out, you notice the moonlight caught in the
water that shimmers on my body. You pull at the blouse. The buttons
remove themselves as you hastily tear it from my body. You throw it
aside. casting it to the tides as you envelop me in your warm embrace.
You scoop me up in your arms - warm and wet and wonderful - and carry
me back to the car. You lay me gently on the still-warm metal. Your
cock is hard and eager to share. You stand to one side of the car,
pulling me to you. You lean forward and start teasing my clit with
the swollen head of your rod. I moan, and my legs spread wide - ready
and willing to accommodate. My hips begin to rock with your motion,
begging you to enter me because if you don't you know I'll go insane.
You part the lips of my pussy with your cock and proceed to spread me
wide with your manhood. I proceed to go insane anyway.
As you slide into my tight snatch in a slow but determined way, my
juices start to flow, easing your motions. The friction - in and out
- has me bucking and moaning soon. Wanting more and more, my
breathing quickens, becomes more ragged. I bite my lip gently, my
eyes closed, until I come. You watch me intently, knowing only you can
bring me this much pleasure. You feel me pulling you into me deeper,
whimpering, calling out your name. You feel me getting hotter and
wetter as I shudder and shiver through climax after climax. You take
your time - fast and then slow - deep and wild or smooth and shallow.
You take a breather every now and then, knowing we are building up to
something rivaled only by paradise itself. You keep sawing back and
forth, pumping away, moving with me, against me, inside me. Our
fucking is paced in rapid double-time as the urgent need in use rises,
rears its head, and reaches its fullest pitch. In the throes of
ecstasy, you thrust mindlessly into me, time and time again, both of
us arching with desire, dripping with intermingling sweat, wanting
only to see the sunshine of a mutual climax. The end nears, we come,
moving as one, like molten metal, good as gold. Crying out, reaching,
clasping, enfolding, grasping, we satisfy each other entirely.
Afterwards, we lie still, the warm hood of the car beneath me tingles
as we move together slowly, resting. Withdrawing, you sigh and look
at me with sparkling eyes. I respond in kind, and we drink from each
others wants, needs and desires. There is no need for words, and we
return to the blanket to lapse into a restful night of sleeping locked
in one another's arms. Even the moon smiles down on us, as the trees
gently whisper their approval and the sound of the gentle waves
lapping at the shore mingle with our own still breathing....
--------------------
It was the end of the month of May, a Wednesday, about 6:30, in the metro.
It's extremely uncomfortable to take the metro then, because of the enormous
crowds in all the cars--pressed against each other, sometimes in direct contact
with people less clean... I had no courses that afternoon, and I had gone
to Paris to shop in the big stores.
Coming back, I had an adventure which, even in my imagination, which
is sometimes quite lively and a little crazy, I could never have invented.
I got on at Chaussee d'Antin, direction Levallois; I was thinking of changing
at Saint-Lazare. Terrible crowd, packed cars, you push as hard as possible in
order to get into the car. Outside it was very hot, and it was hotter in the
metro, so I was wearing a mini-mini-skirt and a blouse; no underwear, as
always, but a bra, very light, which didn't hide much of my chest.
I was carrying a paper bag in my hand with a sweater I had bought, and I had
my handbag over my shoulder.
I climbed into a car and was pushed toward the back by all the people who
wanted to get on behind me; when the door closed, we were all packed like
herrings in a can. I thought of a song that I heard one time: "If We Could
Unpack the Sardines."
My arms were trapped against the length of my body. I could not make the
slightest movement, held fast in front, behind, to the right and the left by
other passengers. I was almost against the back door of the car; there was
only one other person, behind my back, between this door and me.
In my unhappiness, half-asphyxiated, I found that I was in luck, because the
people surrounding me seemed nice, as far as I could tell by appearances. By
chance, after everyone pushed on, I was left facing, as squashed as I was, a
woman about my age with a face sort of like mine. We exchanged smiles which
seemed to say "We can only suffer in patience."
The metro moved about a thousand feet or so, when I sensed very clearly a hand
behind me, placed on my buttocks. This sort of thing had never happened to me
on the metro, although my friends have told me of having such "attacks," from
which they vehemently recoiled, but I thought they were lying, because I had
never been the subject of such "adventures," as they say.
But there it was. A hand, firmly pushing against my buttocks. You should know
that it isn't my nature to protest against a thing like this--au contraire.
By contracting the muscles of my behind, I tried to make understood to this
hand, that I appreciated its audacity.
But whose hand was this? I knew there were three men behind me: one immediately
behind and another at each side. Which of the three? I didn't dare turn around
in fear that the man would take my movement for a rebuff.
After all, it wasn't important whose hand it was. I was delighted that this
was happening; I forgot the extreme inconveniences of the metro at 6:30 in
seeing, or feeling, the enormous advantages that came with it.
The hand caressed my behind, constantly. A well put together hand, moving
with gentleness and firmness. I closed my eyes in order to better taste this
caress, and I don't have to tell you that I began to get rather wet. The metro
would be on time to the next station, so not too many people would get off.
For me, in this mood, there was no further thought of changing at Saint Lazare,
if the hand continued its work.
I was hoping the hand would dare to go under my skirt. I was pressing myself
more and more backwards, in order to better make understood my accord. The hand
moved more quickly and firmly on my behind.
The metro entered the next station. When it stopped, the hand grasped my
buttocks, and rested on my behind, without caressing me.
Happily, at this hour, when 10 people get off, 10 more get on. The shuffle
literally plastered the woman in front of me against me.
--Excuse me, she said.
--That's OK, I said. There is nothing you can do.
I tried to tell her with my eyes that I did not find this disagreeable. Her
pelvis seemed overly pushed against mine, with respect the rest of her body.
I did not object to that. That day, the metro seemed to bring me everything
at the same time.
As soon as the metro started up again, the hand went directly under my skirt;
I imagined the man's joy in finding I had nothing on underneath; the hand
didn't have to go down very far in order to pass under my skirt, of course.
Between my thighs, the man lost no time, burying his finger in my vagina, which
was all wet; he moved it quickly, right away. I closed my eyes again, and
opening them for a few seconds, I saw the face of the woman in front of me. She
was observing me curiously, becoming aware that something was happening.
This finger in me and the excitement it gave me made me lose all prudence;
I moved my pelvis forward and backward, almost instinctively, imperceptibly,
but enough that the woman felt it. She pressed more strongly against me, and
began a light, oscillating movement. A wonderful pleasure was born--enhanced
by this special situation--I managed to slip my free hand up against the lower
pelvis of the woman and, outside of her skirt, I felt for her clitoris to rub
it; her eyes were smiling at me.
Fabulous. A finger in my sex from behind, and my finger caressing a woman in
front of me, right in the middle of a crowd, who might discover everything,
and cry out in scandal!
I was going to climax, I knew this, surrounded by dozens of blind people.
If they could only have guessed...
At the next stop, the three of us continued as if nothing were happening.
I imagined the man and the woman were as excited as I was, and had also
abandoned all prudence. But how could we fear being noticed in this crowd,
if we kept a certain minimum of apparent calmness and impassiveness?
The woman's dress was a maxi with buttons in front; I easily unbuttoned the
one above her sex--because I wanted to touch her skin--and passed my hand
through the opening and placed it on her panties.
They didn't cling. I moved my finger between the cloth and her skin, and my
finger reached her sex; a lot of hair, but I quickly found her clitoris
and her very wet vagina. I wet my finger there and started to caress her
seriously. Now, she closed her eyes.
I looked nonchalently around me, and saw people who seemed to be ignorant of
everything that was happening, each with eyes fixed in front, lost in thought,
no doubt.
Solitude in the crowd. Liberty to do everything without being seen; more
easily perhaps than in open countryside where one never knows if, some distance
away, behind a tree or a window, a man or an old woman is busy watching.
(I am not against exhibitionism, but I like to choose my voyeurs.)
Three stations already. I decide to go to the last stop.
In me, this finger is moving, always; pleasure builds little by little
within me; a new pleasure, unknown till this moment, coming as much from
the finger of the man and the sex of the woman as from the place where we are.
The finger excites me terribly fast. My climax comes in three seconds,
brusquely. I hold back a scream with great difficulty and bite my lips hard.
I have rarely come so quickly. Normally, this pleasure grows in me gradually,
gently, arriving at the paroxysm more slowly; but here, everything came in
three or four seconds. Incredible!
I began to caress the woman in front of me furiously, and I sensed her about to
come too, under my finger. A sexy one, for sure. But no more than me! Her eyes
flutter, then totally close; I begin to take back my hand when she reopens her
eyes, extremely gently, and stares at me:
--Again.
Incredible. This word she has just pronounced galvanizes me, and I begin to
caress her more beautifully. I regret she cannot return this. I took the
risk of making us noticed, because I never knew whose hand was in me, but I
hoped it would continue to caress me.
But the man took back his hand when he felt, by the pressure of my buttocks,
that I had climaxed. It was finished, I sensed.
Once more the metro stopped, at Malesherbes, nearly the last stop. The car
would stay full. So much the better.
Why did the man stop caressing me? Was he satisfied? Did he only want to make
me climax? I knew that sometimes men could come this way too, by simple
intellectual excitation, and that after this, men lost, for a certain time,
all their erotic ideas...
But I was wrong to make this of it. The man hadn't climaxed. Not yet. Then
he did something that was difficult for me to believe, at first. I sensed
between my thighs, no longer the man's hand, but his penis. I was sure that it
was that, but for two seconds, I told myself that this was impossible. He would
not possibly dare to do this! He could not have done this in such a crowd!
Or else, he was completely crazy. But what a marvelous fool!
I continued to caress the woman, having decided to make her come at least as
strongly as before.
I knew now it could only be the man directly behind me who could take his
penis out of his pants and lift up my skirt and put it between my thighs.
I tried to spread myself more to make the task easier.
The man clung strongly to the lower part of my skirt, and he pressed himself
as straight as possible against me. He only let me move very lightly forward
and backward, which gave me a chance to caress his penis, rubbing
between my legs.
In front of me, the woman swooned, her eyes happily closed. Except for that,
our neighbors would certainly have noticed her condition.
The metro entered Wagram station. Few people on the platform. Few people
would get off here. Three people got off, two got on. Perfect, we were still
deliciously crowded. The metro left.
Immediately, the man put his penis in my vagina. Marvelous! It was of normal
length, but with an rather imposing diameter, it seemed to me, from what
I could feel inside me. It seemed impossible to me, now, that the men on
either side of me sensed nothing. I glanced to the right and the left behind
me, and I saw the eyes of one man fixed on my buttocks. They were seeing
everything. And they said nothing. Metro, Liberty is thy name!
Secure in all these complicities, the man moved in me, scarcely discretely;
in front of me I caressed the woman, who in turn, passed a hand under my skirt
and caressed my clitoris, while introducing her finger in my vagina, with the
man's penis. No one could come more strongly than I did. I came continuously
between the Wagram and Pereire stations. I came like a crazy person. At this
hour, the metro moves in slow pauses, because ahead, the track is not totally
free. It sometimes even stops between stations. I came for about 3 minutes,
continuously, and fantastically. I no longer knew where I was, and I didn't
know how--a sort of instinctive desire kept me from screaming--but in part
because of this, I moved my hips as much as possible.
Behind, the man makes love to me savagely. At one moment, a finger in my anus.
Is it his or one of the other men? I do not know. And that isn't important.
I want all of the people in the car to touch me, to fuck me, to kiss me, to
lick me, to crush me, to caress me, to rape me.
And I caress the woman: still masturbating her clitoris, I bury two fingers in
her sex and she comes intensely, too. She bites her lips, and under my skirt,
her frenetic finger translates these sensations.
The finger in my anus enters me deeply and marvelously, but this big penis
in me gives me an inexpressible pleasure.
A little before the Pereire station, while the metro was slowing down, the
man held me plastered against him, strongly, and pulled violently on my skirt.
I couldn't budge, not even a half-inch, and he came in me in long hot spurting
jets, leading me to inacessible summits. I had believed in this before that--
in the great climax.
I was exhausted, and surely would have fallen over if the crowd around me had
not held me up. The woman under my fingers came again, wetting herself
insensibly. My fingers, my hand were entirely engulfed in her liquid of love,
which flowed down the length of my arm. I withdrew my hand and dried it a bit
against her skirt. Her eyes said "Merci," with excessive sincerity, and I
wanted well to believe this. (I believe I caress in a more than excellent
manner, and I take pains to caress other people particularly well.)
The finger withdrew from my behind and the penis left my sex, my warm sex,
almost as soon as the man came.
It is over, and I have just known an unforgettable sensation.
--You get off here? a voice behind me asked.
--No.
I spread my legs out. In front of me, the woman gave me a small glance of
complicity and turned around to get off, while the man who was behind me
passed in front of me, giving me the very slightest attention.
Incredible! (I repeat this adjective often, but remember the circumstances!)
Truly incredible! He could have looked at me. Looked for my face. To see who
he fucked. No. He went by quickly. Incredible.
"Are you getting off here?" he asked another person ahead of him.
I hadn't even seen his face. I only saw the back of his neck. The long hair
on his neck. He had blue jeans and a brown leather shirt, under which I saw the
collar of a colored shirt. He wasn't very tall, about my size, no more. That
had made it easy for him to fuck me standing up, from behind, without gathering
too much attention around us. I had nothing more of him, than his hands and his
penis and the sound of his voice when he asked "Are you getting off here?"
No, I'm not getting off here, and what good would it do to follow him?
His attitude invited nothing, and what would we say to each other?
The train stopped. The door opened: Pereire. Five or six people got off in less
than a minute, among them the woman that I caressed and the man that fucked me.
And incredible! I tell you that is the only word that fits. I see the two of
them join hands and walk off the platform talking and smiling. The man kissing
the woman on the neck.
The metro leaves. I see the face of the man. Blond, gentle features. I find
him beautiful. He is no more than 23 years old, I guess.
She and he, two little gentle lovers, one would say. The people who have met
them, the people whom they are meeting and the people whom they will meet,
would take them for two little young adorable people who simply love each
other. And in fact, that seems to be the case. She and he, conniving together,
made love with me in the middle of the metro. The two of them seem like little
angels.
What is behind the face of each one? And the people hiding behind the wise
faces of this man and this woman, are they exceptional? Isn't it the same thing
for the rest of the world? And for the next man who passes? What of the dream
of the next woman to cross your path, a little farther on? What will you think
of and what have you done, you who seem shameful? What do all couples hope for?
What do their faces hide?
Open yourselves, faces. Speak to me. Tell the truth, impassive eyes. With whom
do you like to make love, all of you? And how? And where?
We have only illusions about people, and if we do not read, we guess past the
faces.
I think again of the two men who are still behind me and who "witnessed" this.
I dare not turn around. But I do not wish to dissimulate. I want to be youth
who dares, who has no shame of her body, who considers that making love is
marvelous at any moment, who wants to live all lives in one only, and who wants
to do all that she wants without blocking and repressing in her, later having
thoughts which she would not dare explain.
I turn around and look at the two men to the right and left. They were each
about 40, suit and tie over a white shirt. They could be brothers. I see other
men, suit and tie and white shirt, the uniform of city life.
The two men avoid my look. One reads a paperback book. The other pretends
to be interested in the headlines of a paper being read by a woman six feet
away. Look at me. Have the courage to look at me. I know that you saw. This
evening, if they are married, they will make love to their wives and think
of me, I am sure. But here, they pretend they saw nothing. Poor men. When
I get off the train, they will make out my silhouette on the platform,
undressing me through the windows of the train.
So, get off. There is nothing to do with them. None have the courage to do
what the man just did, even if they often imagine that. And if they reprove,
then they should have protested. Capable of nothing, I tell you.
What a marvel, this little metro trip. I feel a little sperm sliding gently
between my legs. Incomparable memories of the extraordinary climax that I had.
I go near the door. The metro stops. I am going to get off. Between my thighs,
wet with sperm and my own juices, I still feel the man's penis and the woman's
hand. I put the hand that caressed this woman to my lips, and the wild odor of
her sex assures me that I was not dreaming. A certain aphrodisiac.
Now I am on the platform. This is not a transfer station, Porte Champerret,
it only remains for me to leave again by the opposite platform. This I do
in an other worldly state, lost in the memory of what just happened, my body
annihilated by happy fatigue. Going the other way, the metro is almost empty.
Going back, I think over my voyage of eroticism and climax. I go over
these unforgettable moments in my mind.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Melinda looked at Steve and smiled slyly, almost wickedly. She'd
wanted him for so long and how her wish was coming true....
She had seen him for the first time several months ago in the weight
room of her college's gym. Tall, blond, broad shoulders - God, he was
gorgeous! Melinda watched him that night and all of the other nights that
she went to work out. As time passed, she found herself becoming more and
more attracted to him.
They exchanged hellos at first, and then made small talk as they grew
more comfortable with each other. Melinda was always careful not to make him
aware of her desires - she didn't want to scare him off! Finally one evening
she had seen him eating dinner alone in the Dining Hall. Melinda walked up,
smiled, and asked if she could join him. They talked, and the topic turned
to past relationships. Melinda found out that Steve didn't have a girlfriend.
"What luck," Melinda thought to herself. She invited him over to her apartment
that evening around 8:00 for a drink and... whatever else. < reword? >
About 7:00 Melinda started getting ready. She attached lenghts of rope
to the sides of her bed and tucked the ends down out of sight. Next she
prepared herself. She put on a red, lacy, front-hook bra, black, crotchless
undies, a garter belt, fishnet stockings, and spiked heels. Melinda grinned as
she surveyed herself in the mirror. Her dark hair cascaded down her back and
across her shoulders. A silver chain hung around her neck, the end
mischievously hiding in the valley between her taut, full breasts. Her body
was well-toned and firm, the result of those well-spend hours at nautilus.
Melinda was quite pleased.
There was a knock at the door. Melinda glanced at her watch. "Right
on time," she thought as she answered the door. Steve's eyes widened as he
caught sight of her. "Hi, Steve," she smiled. "Come on in. The wine's
chilling in the 'fridge and there are two glasses on the counter. Could you
get them and bring them into the living room, please?"
"Uh, sure. No problem." Steve looked a little confused, but not
upset, at her attire. Melinda suppressed a giggle.
After Steve brought the wine Melinda poured two glasses and set them on
the table. As they drank she asked him questions about himself. Melinda found
out that he was a senior in Psych, he was graduating at the end of this term,
and that he eventually wanted to teach. Melinda rose as they finished their
wine. "Why don't you go on upstairs, Steve? That is, if you want to. My
room's the second door on the right." Steve looked her full in the face, and
then replied, "Sure, I think I want to." Melinda put the empty wine glasses
in the sink and the half-full bottle of wine back into the 'fridge.
When Melinda arrived at her bedroom, Steve was there waiting for her,
seated on her bed. She thought that he looked a little uptight. "How about
a backrub?" she asked innocently. "I've been told that I give an unbeatable
massage." "Great!" he responded enthusiastically. He kicked off his shoes and
took off his shirt which Melinda set it onto a nearby chair. This was the
first time Melinda had seen him without a shirt on. She wasn't disappointed.
She wasn't the only one who had been working out recently! His large, well-
defined muscles rippled as he rolled over onto his stomach. Melinda retrieved
a bottle of massage oil from her dresser, poured a little into one hand, and
firmly started rubbing. Steve relaxed as as her hands became intimately
acquainted with his shoulders, back, and sides. After about 20 minutes she
nudged him. "Still awake, I hope?" "Mmmmmm," he sighed. "God, this feels
good." "Tell you what - if you turn over I'll do your chest too." Not needing
any further urging, Steve rolled over. Impishly, Melinda climbed on top of him
so that she could easily reach every part of his magnificent body. He looked a
little surprised, but Melinda could feel through his jeans that he was a little
aroused too. She poured a little more oil into her hand and started to massage
his shoulders and chest. Shortly thereafter he closed his eyes and relaxed,
enjoying her touch to the utmost.
Melinda's hands travelled down his left arm, tracing out the contours
of his muscles and moving down toward his hand. As she neared his wrist,
Melinda retrieved one of the ropes and laid it across the bed. Then she gently
maneuvered his arm so that his wrist crossed the rope. Still massaging Steve's
arm with her right hand, Melinda used her left to lightly but securely tie the
rope around his wrist. Melinda then repeated the procedure with his right arm.
Melinda surveyed her work. Steve had some freedom of movement, but not enough
to untie the knots and definitely not enough to stop what she planned for him.
Melinda leaned forward and kissed Steve on the lips while playfully
brushing his chest with her already hardened nipples. She felt Steve shift as
if he wanted to put his arms around her, then he started to struggle when he
realized that he was tied down. "Stop fight," she told him. "You can't get
free. Those ropes are designed to hold a 1200 lb horse, so they can certainly
hold you. Don't worry; there is no way in the world that I would want to hurt
you anyhow. Just relax and enjoy." Melinda started to nibble on his right
earlobe, then worked her way along his jaw, down his throat, and across one
collarbone. She then started to lick and suck on his right nipple, while at
the same time moving her left hand down to the now-prominent bulge in his pants
and rubbing the hard shaft that she found there. Steve gasped as he became
fully hard under her expert ministrations. Melinda moved her hand up to undo
the button on his jeans, then ran her index finger down his cock as she opened
his zipper. She slipped her hand into the front of his pants, first playing
with his penis, then reaching in deeper to rub his testicles through his under-
wear. Stopping only long enough to remove the remainder of his clothing, she
continued to excite him. Melinda pushed his thighs apart and knelt between
them. She leaned forward and Steve felt his cock being licked from its tip to
its base. Her tongue flicked in and out of her mouth as she worked him almost
to a fever pitch, then suddenly she opened her mouth and took him in. She
moved her head up and down, now slowly, now a little quicker, and her tongue
played expertly with the underside of his shaft.
Steve was breathing very fast. Melinda realized that he was close to
reaching orgasm. She wasn't quite through with him so she slowed down, then
stopped. Steve moaned as he realized that he'd been brought so close... so
close... and nothing had happened and he was incredibly turned on.
"What's the matter, Steve?" Melinda asked as she stroked him to keep
him erect. "Haven't you ever been teased before?" Without waiting for a reply
she straddled his hips and slowly lowered herself toward his waiting hardness.
She stopped when the tip of his penis had just slipped between the moist lips
of her vagina. She moved his hard shaft back and forth, teasing and arousing
both of them. When she could stand it no longer Melinda lowered herself fully
onto him, then began moving rhythmically, trying to drive him deeper inside of
her. Her breathing quickened, and she realized that she was going to... Waves
of pleasure washed over her as she reached the most intense orgasm she'd had in
a long time. She was happy that she'd come so quickly that he hadn't - yet.
Melinda stopped moving and looked at Steve. Then, with a large, wolfish grin
she dismounted and moved away from the bed.
Melinda had every intention of completing what she had started with
Steve, but he apparently didn't know that. He yanked hard on one of the ropes,
and it snapped. Melinda stared with shock, then realized that that the sharp
metal of her bedframe had acted like a knife and severed the rope. Before she
could recover her wits he had untied himself and was advancing toward her.
"Now who's the one who is going to get teased?" he asked, grinning playfully.
Melinda, although surprised, wasn't frightened, and she often enjoyed wrestling
with her lovers. She quickly kicked off her heels as they would only hinder
her and crouched, waiting for him to make the first move. She looked him
straight in the eye. "Go for it," she challenged.
As Steve reached Melinda he tried to grab her and haul her into him.
He succeeded in catching her arm but as he started pulling she launched toward
him, flung him off balance, and knocked them both to the plushly carpeted
floor. Steve, being by far the stronger of the two, quickly managed to pin her
there. Melinda noticed during their struggles that he was very careful not to
hurt her.
After pinning Melinda Steve unhooked her bra, exposing her large, well-
rounded breasts. Melinda moaned softly as he caressed and fondled them and
then brushed her hard nipples lightly with his fingertips. His mouth and
tongue kissed and nibbled on her left breast. When he reached her nipple, he
nipped it lightly, sending a surve of desire through her. Melinda gasped as
his sucking became more and more urgent. Steve no longer needed to pin her
to the floor as she had no urge to get away from him. Her hands clung to him
desperately as he aroused her further. As he shifted to work on her right
breast, Melinda spread her legs and pulled on his hips to encourage him to
enter her. Eagerly he climbed on top of her. "Take me now," she moaned.
Steve smiled. "Not just yet."
Melinda felt Steve's hand between her legs. His fingers teased first
one side of her wet pussy, then the other. When his hand moved up and
stimulated her clit she began thrusting her hips, matching his rhythm. Just
before she climaxed Steve penetrated her almost savagely. She cried out as
she came, waves of excitement racking her body. An instant later Steve came,
his body shuddering as he strove to push himself even farther into her. For
what seemed like an eternity they clung to each other, fused in their carnal
passion, and then they relaxed, spent.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
This work is copyright 1989 metlay, and is in the public domain for all forms
of reproduction and distribution SAVE those involving sale of this material.
All persons, places and events in this story series are FICTIONAL!
PROLOGUE: It has a mind of its own
Late winter 1982
The room was bathed in fanned rays of yellow light, the glare of the
streetlight outside the window only partially shuttered out by the Venetian
blinds. It wasn't a terribly cluttered or fancy room; bunk bed at one end,
desk at the other, two closets and chests of drawers, mirror, and bookshelves.
The walls were grey cinderblock, and the floor was institutional brown tile, a
choice of a practical rather than esthetic nature. But that wasn't to say that
the room had no character; far from it. It wasn't easy for a lowly teenager to
make a dent in the Establishment's effort to create anonymous conformity, but
it could be done. The center of the floor was covered by a huge Persian rug,
and the walls were adorned with Roger Dean landscapes: here an ethereal stone
staircase over a cloudy sky, there a desert island floating in the clouds, and
over there a huge mesa, a lake at its top, sheeting down water on all sides.
And there weren't many other rooms in the building that would have had
furniture like that next to the desk: a keyboard stand with a small
synthesizer, a pair of boxy guitar amps, a beautiful old Les Paul on a stand,
and a hideously-customized old Rickenbacker bass beside it, a sort of
"American Gothic" with guitars instead of the old farmer and his wife.
The bunk bed was occupied, top and bottom, and gentle breathing could
be heard from both of the beds. Up top, two bodies were intertwined under the
thick blanket, sleeping the sleep of the beloved. Down below, a single body
was stretched out and gently snoring, head thrown back on the thick pillow,
arms and legs akimbo. Suddenly, a tiny rustling motion came from beneath the
blanket on the lower bunk. A small, moving lump appeared under the blanket,
slowly and laboriously moving across to the edge of the bed. At the edge, it
hesitated, trembling, then cautiously nosed out from under the covers.
The Bandit's penis was going exploring.
It looked to the left and right, carefully sniffing the air for
anything out of the ordinary and listening for any strange sound that might
mean trouble. Satisfied at last, it gathered itself carefully, and jumped
lightly down onto the carpet, glans first. It was an undignified way to land,
that was for certain, but it knew from experience that it was a hell of a lot
nicer than landing on its balls. It scrambled upright and immediately scurried
to the protection of the bass on its stand, in case someone might see it. It
paused for a minute or two, waiting anxiously for that fatal gasp or scream in
the darkness. None came.
Relieved, the Bandit's penis began to explore its surroundings in
somewhat greater comfort. It paused to lovingly stroke the bottom of the bass
with its head, luxuriating in the feel of the cool, smooth lacquered wood
against its skin. God, it loved that instrument! It always wished that the
Bandit would play it naked one of these days, so it could feel the bass's body
resonating against it without the Bandit's thrice-damned pants in the way. The
insistent throb of the deep, powerful notes was so erotic, and there it was,
stuffed into a pair of BVDs while the Bandit got to have all the fun!
Sometimes life just wasn't fair.
The Les Paul was nearby, gleaming black in the night. The Bandit's
penis gazed up at it a bit fearfully, and wondered if Zero's penis felt the
same way about the guitar that it did about the bass. It would have to ask,
someday, but frankly it doubted if it had the courage to put forth the
question. The Bandit's penis was terrified of Zero's. So was every other penis
in the building. Or anywhere else on the campus, for that matter. The Bandit's
penis shivered at the thought of meeting it out here in the dark....
The penis looked up at the synthesizer, and wondered at the flat black
metal of its base. It was a strange one, that box. It shrieked, moaned, wailed
and thundered. A lot like Diva when she was coming, actually. The Bandit's
penis chuckled at that one; Diva made him laugh more often than not.
Diva. The Bandit's penis turned around and squinted up through the dim
light at the upper bunk. There, perilously near the edge, was a blanketed
back, wide and gently curved, and a generous pair of buttocks clearly outlined
beneath the fabric. Zero was a lucky guy, that was for sure. She was smart,
talented, friendly...well, to most people. The Bandit's penis shrank a bit as
she thought of the looks Diva gave the Bandit. Why doesn't she like him, it
wondered. He sure likes her well enough. Hmm, maybe that's the problem. Well,
it's not my place to advise him on such things. Onward!
The Bandit's penis sauntered under the music stand, and clambered into
the closet. There was the Bandit's old laundry bag, smelling of sweat, and
dirt, and.... Suddenly the penis stopped, stiffening, and sniffed deeply at
the bag. Good Lord above, it thought, there's a pair of panties in there! Now
who in the heck--
Oh. Right. Silly of me.
The Bandit's penis wilted completely and slumped into a dejected heap.
Oh, damn, it wailed, why'd I have to find those? She probably put them in
there to be cleaned, the last night they slept together, and he hasn't given
them back yet. Damn!
It thought miserably of the wonderful warm nights through the winter
that the Bandit had spent with Teenie, before she'd broken up with him and
left him alone and cold and miserable and horny and frustrated and.... it
could remember every inch of her, her long lustrous black hair with the
glorious red highlights that took her forever to comb, her wonderful firm lips
that the Bandit wasn't allowed to kiss too hard because she'd be too sore to
play the clarinet, her beautiful breasts with their rosy-pink nipples and
virtually nothing else to them, her slim, tight torso with the razor-sharp hip
bones, her-- The Bandit's penis sat up again. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing
that she left after all, it decided. The Bandit can do better. I hope.
It hopped down from the closet and waddled comically along the wall,
past the dressers and mirror and back toward the bed. Ah, it's wonderful to
get out and about in the cool and quiet of night! Pity the poor female, whose
privates never get out to see the world and get a bit of exercise. It did a
few somersaults, just for fun, and rolled over to the foot of the bed. The
first faint light of the rising sun was starting to tinge the stark yellow of
the lights outside, and it glanced at the luminous dial of the alarm clock
nearby to see what time it was.
It read 6:57.
The Bandit's penis was glad it didn't have any vocal cords, because it
would've screamed blue murder right then. Three minutes to seven? Dear GOD!
Frantically it waddled over to the end of the bed, cursing the pain in
its balls. A lot like walking on sore feet, it supposed. Really sore feet,
that is. The bedclothes were loose and dangling almost to the floor, as usual;
fortunately the Bandit was a pretty sloppy hand at making beds. It strained
upward, and just managed to hook itself in the little cusp of the partially-
tucked blanket. With a mighty heave, it levered itself up to the level of the
matress. For a split second, it lost its balance, and teetered on the edge of
the bed, visions of a long fall right onto its balls playing grotesquely in
its terrified imagination, but it recovered itself with a desperate lunge and
lay panting for a few moments. The lump under the covers quickly shuffled up
the length of the bed, between the sprawlingly spread legs, and stopped.
For perhaps a half minute, all was still.
Then the alarm clock began to blare heavy metal music at an ungodly
volume, silenced a moment later by a groggily-aimed fist smashing down on the
SNOOZE button. The Bandit remained frozen in midreach for a moment, body half
raised from the matress, then collapsed back into bed.
Above him, he heard a moan, a light kiss, indecipherable whispers.
Then a pair of shapely legs appeared over the edge of the bed, followed by a
meaty but well-rounded pair of buttocks, demurely clad in purple panties. With
a graceless thump, Diva dropped to the carpet and hastily began to dress. She
didn't turn around; the Bandit was watching her, and she knew he was watching
her, and what was worst, HE knew that she knew that he was watching her and
that wasn't stopping him.
Another pair of legs, much skinnier and covered with hair, appeared at
the foot of the bed, and ingerly turned around, hunting for footing. Zero
climbed down to floor level, muttering, "Morning, Bandit. Sleep well?"
"No," the Bandit responded. "Not at all." He scratched his groin and
swung his legs out from under the covers, smacking his lips distastefully at
the awful layer of perdition in his mouth. He blinked, trying to remember the
fragments of something very near, yet too nebulous to touch.
"I'm never going to sleep on a full stomach again," he vowed wearily.
"Pizza with mushrooms and onions gives you the WEIRDEST dreams!"
PART ONE: some introductions
Late January 1982
"I don't want to start like that. And again...two, three, four...."
"Hold it, HOLD IT!" The Bandit held up a hand and waved frantically,
making disgusted faces. Zero raised an eyebrow at the spastic diplay, but
willingly shut off the tape recorder.
"Something the matter?"
"YES, God damn your oversized beak!" The Bandit glared furiously at
Zero, fists on hips.
Zero selfconsciously rubbed the bridge of his nose, which was quite
frankly a tremendously outsized appendage for the face upon which it rested, a
bit of Cherokee ancestry that wouldn't have been out of place on a nickel.
"What is it? And calm down, you look like you're about to explode."
"You promised me NO cliches and NO stuff stolen from other people!"
"Well, of course not," Zero replied, looking hurt. "But we haven't
even started playing yet...."
"You know damn well what I mean!" The Bandit rewound the tape, still
glaring at Zero. "That 'I don't wanna start like that' line is straight off of
a Robert Fripp song! Now, NO FRIPP!"
"It is? Oh, so it is." Zero scratched his head and smiled sheepishly.
"It's from the prologue of his first album, isn't it? The one that leads
into--"
"No, don't start! DON'T START! Or you'll set me off and we won't get
ANYTHING recorded!" The Bandit waved him to silence. Zero grinned at him, and
began to play a lightning series of guitar chords, his hands moving in an
inhuman blur. The Bandit was reaching to turn off the amp, when the door
opened and Diva stuck her head in.
"What on Earth are you two DOING?"
The Bandit stopped dead in his tracks, his scowl deepening. One thing
I don't need right now, he thought grimly, is the Diva on my case. As Zero
came to the turnaround, the Bandit kicked in the drumbox at an earshattering
volume, and spun around to face her with a wide grin as he joined Zero in the
song. To hell with composing, he thought gleefully. I'd rather torture Diva
any day!
"You burn me up, I'm a Cigarette,
Take hold of my hand and I begin to sweat
You make me nervous, oo woo, I'm nervous
This must be real bad karma for this to be my dharma
With you-woo-woo...."
Diva looked irritable, as she always did when the Bandit ever said
anything to her, and began to back out of the room. Suddenly another face
appeared behind hers, blocking the way as she tried to look into the room.
Twink, trying to be heard over the din, cried, "What's the name of--"
The Bandit's gorge catapulted into his throat at the sight of her, and
his grin turned demonic as he aimed the next verse down her throat like a
whaling gaff.
"You burn me up I'm a cigarette,
Life with you is a losing bet
You drive me crazy, eeyow, I'm going CRAZY!
Musical elation is my only consolation
From you-woo-woo!"
Twink bit her lip and backed off, reddening, and Diva hustled out of
the room behind her, the slamming door unnoticed in the chorus.
"Strategic interaction irreducible fraction
Terminal inaction from a bitter hostile faction
I'm getting anxious
I'm FRANXIOUS
Transactional diseases are the only thing that pleases We...."
It took another verse or two for the song to wind down, by which time
the pounding on the door was enough to wake the dead. The Bandit was laughing
like a lunatic, and Zero's normally placid smile was a good deal wider than it
should have been, as they set down their instruments and opened the door.
"Eeee, yessssss?" The Bandit asked, opening the door and batting his
eyelashes like Bugs Bunny in drag.
Conan gave the Bandit a big grin, and said, "Quiet or I'll kill you."
He flexed every muscle in his magnificent torso for emphasis. The Bandit,
who'd seen it all before, just yawned.
"Oh, hello, Conan," Zero volunteered. "Come to sit in?"
"I've come to squash you both like rotten grapes beneath my feet,"
Conan replied goodnaturedly. "Either you turn it down to a civilized level or
you get forcefed your guitars."
"Some people are so touchy," The Bandit lamented.
"It's our punishment for rooming with heathen," Zero agreed. "What do
they know about art, anyway?" He turned off the beatbox and the amp, sighing.
Mollified, Conan turned on his heel and stalked back across the living
room to the other double bedroom in the quad. He gingerly stepped over Starch,
Lanky, Plaids, and Mimosa, who were sitting and listening raptly to the
Rainbow Wizard, who was holding forth from his beanbag chair with one arm
gently caressing the smooth curve of Mary Magdalene's hip. As he shut the
door, the Rainbow Wizard called after him, "Thanks for quieting them down,
Conan. We couldn't hear ourselves think."
"I didn't shut them up for your sake," Conan replied easily. "I need
to get some sleep before the graveyard shift." His door slammed.
"Most people CAN'T hear themselves think, Wiz," the Bandit said, his
appetite for music suddenly gone. "Just because *you* can, don't assume that
it's vital to everyone else. Besides, who wants to listen to grinding gears
anyway?"
"That's unnecessary!" Lanky said indignantly, sweeping a long trail of
black hair out of his eyes, his neckbell jingling as he moved.
"I just got finished *saying* that," the Bandit retorted. "Especially
when he can *smell* himself think at the same time! Peeyew! I nearly called
the Fire Department; it smelled like a short in the stereo!"
Zero made it a point never to get involved in the wrangling between
the Bandit and the Wiz, but he knew when points were scored. He let his smile
widen a bit, which was a real outpouring of emotion for him. Mary Magdalene
actually smiled, though, and *that* was a major tactical victory for the
Bandit.
The Bandit saw the smile, and nodded, hastily reaching for his coat.
"Let's call it quits for a bit, Zero; it's getting way too stupid for me in
here."
"Right behind you, kemosabe," Zero replied, fetching his coat and
scarf from the closet.
The Rainbow Wizard sighed loudly, half in anger at the Bandit's
attitude, half in relief in getting him out of his hair for a while, but Lanky
wasn't letting the Bandit get off that easily. "You ought to try listening
rather than poking fun once in a while, Bandit. You might learn something.
Wouldn't that be a shame?"
"Every Messiah needs his Antichrist, Lanky m'boy," the Bandit said
gaily, zipping up his jacket. "Otherwise, who'd the Faithful have to blame
for their troubles?" He turned and headed out the door, Zero behind him.
"Bandit?"
The low, throbbing voice grabbed him by the crotch and did its best to
spin him around and pull him back, penis first. The Bandit's back was turned
to the others, so nobody saw the flash of emotion in his face. Was it anger,
fear, or just lust?
He turned around casually, his face a neutral mask. "Yo?"
Mary Magdalene gave him her best smile, asking, "Don't you wear the
neckbell I gave you? Even Zero and Diva wear theirs...."
The Bandit looked sidelong at Zero, and gave him a poke in the chest.
No jingle, however muffled, answered the poke. "They do?"
Zero smiled at Mary Magdalene and said softly, "We keep ours at Diva's
place. No real use in wearing them around here."
"But a neckbell is meant to be worn, and to be used, when you feel
lonely or left out!" Mary Magdalene jingled hers lightly, and was instantly
rewarded with a kiss from the Rainbow Wizard.
"Not a problem," Zero said mildly.
"Don't feel badly, Mary-Mag," the Bandit said with a raffish grin. "I
wear mine all the time. See?" He reached under his coat and hauled out the
tiny brass neckbell on its braided chain. He shook it gently.
It didn't make a sound.
The Bandit grinned at her look of confusion, and said, "I pulled out
the clapper. 'Bye, now!" The door slammed on five shocked looks.
"Ain't I a stinker?" The Bandit grinned.
"The absolute pits, kemosabe," Zero agreed. "That was *really* low."
The pair bundled up as they walked down the hall to the stairwell, and
down the few steps to the side door. "It was worth it," the Bandit said,
straightening his beret. "The look on that pompous shit's face...."
"You really hurt Mary Magdalene's feelings, though," Zero reminded
him. "The Wiz wasn't the one who gave you that bell; *she* was."
"For her cold borscht my heart bleeds," the Bandit growled. "If the
world depended on my concern for her feelings, Ronnie would've dropped the
bomb on Andropov already."
"Oh, really," Zero said mildly. "And what happened to all that stuff
about 'God, she's beautiful' and 'I wish she'd at least pay attention to me'
and so on and so forth?"
"Past history," the Bandit replied with ice in his voice. "I met her
two years ago, before either you or the Wiz started here, and I will freely
admit that she knocked me flat on my ass. But she ended up getting into this
soulmate stuff with the Wiz before I had a chance with her, and for that I owe
him a big debt of gratitude."
"You? Owe the Wizard *anything*? Why, for Set's sake?"
"Because in rooming with the Wiz, which seemed like a damned good idea
at the time, please forgive me--"
"Long since forgiven. Say on."
"--I had a chance to see what's going on inside her head. Man, it is
*scary* in there!"
"There are crazier people in Arcadia, Bandit."
"I'm not so sure. That woman's in her own little fairy kingdom!"
The hard-packed snow crunched under their boots as they made their way
across the gleaming white expanses of the Eastern Quadrangle, past the Virgin
Vault, the Roach Motel, and the Lovepile. Up ahead, Scum Central was already
surrounded by a growing crowd of students, filing in for dinner.
"Don't worry your pointed little skull about it, Zero," the Bandit
said mildly, kicking the snow from his boots and shivering as he stepped
across the threshold. "I'm leaving well enough alo--HEY! TEENIE!"
The skinny young girl by the coat rack looked up like a frightened
deer, terror in her eyes. She took a half step back as the Bandit came over to
her, smiling.
"H--hi, Bandit." Her voice was a dry whisper.
"Hello, sweetheart. Just going in to dinner?"
"Just coming out." She grabbed her coat from the rack, and shouldered
into it hastily. "I have to get over to the rehearsal hall...."
"Hey, hold on a second!" The Bandit's forearm came up, barring her
escape. "You've been avoiding me every chance you've had for nearly a month
now. When you said you didn't want to see me any more, I let you go with no
questions asked, and frankly I have been *miserable* since then. I love you
and I miss you! Couldn't you at least give me an explanation?"
"Just leave me alone." Teenie pushed past him, not meeting his eyes.
He watched her hurry into the snow, his eyes tortured.
Zero, who'd been standing nearby, shook his head. "Bad karma, bro'."
"No shit," the Bandit muttered, his eyes still on the doorway. "What
the hell's got her so spooked?"
"No clue," Zero said mildly, doffing his coat.
"Multitudinous thanks for essentially nada," the Bandit snapped.
"Mellow out. You'll be so wound up we won't be able to play after
dinner. Just calm down and relax, okay?"
The Bandit glared at Zero for a moment, then sighed, his expression
softening. "Yeah, okay. You're right." He walked over to the entryway and ran
his data card through the debit machine, then took a place in the food line.
"It could be worse," he said philosophically. "I could have to eat with--"
"HEEYOW! ZERO THE GUITAR HERO AND THE DREADED BANDIT!"
The yell split the calm murmur in the cafeteria like a knife. Zero
winced, and the Bandit rolled his eyes, finishing his sentence.
"--Livewire."
A curly-headed spring of raw energy uncoiled itself in a long leap
over the decorative planters dividing the line from the eating area. One
trailing foot caught the edge of a planter, toppling it and scattering dirt
across a wide swath of carpet. Livewire didn't even look behind him as the
plant hit the floor with a rustling crash, his grin from ear to ear as he gave
first Zero, then the Bandit, a food-spilling whack on the back.
"Heyyy, how you guys doin, nice to see ya, listen, I got us a big
table over in the corner with lotsa seats, look for us over there it'll be a
kick, see you soon gotta get back my burger's getting cold, hurry it up!"
Another leap and he was gone. Zero shook his head in awe. "What a
marvelous human being," he said with a smile. "Utterly untroubled by anything
resembling common sense. It's a miracle he's survived to adolescence!"
"Be still my heart," the Bandit sighed. "More indigestion tonight."
"Hey! Bandit?"
The Bandit winced at the familiar voice, then plastered on a smile as
Twink came over, a glass of something in her hand. The Bandit glanced at it.
Milk. Just plain old white milk. Typical.
"Need a place to sit? I'd just love your company," Twink cooed, her
voice a poor imitation of Mary Magdalene's. "It'll give you a chance to make
up for how rude you were over at the dorm." She tossed her blonde hair out of
her eyes and gave him what she must have thought was a demure look, but came
off more like a cartoon caricature of a whore's leer.
The Bandit's speech centers suffered a severe lockup as eighteen
suitable rejoinders arrived at his larynx simultaneously and shorted each
other out, and he glared at her.
Then, suddenly, he smiled.
"You wouldn't happen to be sitting with Livewire, would you?"
She smiled brightly at his softened tone. "No! I'm all alone by
myself. But if you want, we could move over there! Livewire's there, with Diva
and Bone and Thunder and--"
"No, that's all right," the Bandit said hastily. "I'd *love* a nice,
quiet meal with you. You go on ahead, Zero; I'll see you after dinner."
Zero looked at him, then at Twink, then over at the waiting delights
of the corner table, where Bone and Thunder were joking with Livewire, and
Diva was casting him pleading looks. He shrugged. "Okay."
"Great! This way," Twink said, leading the Bandit to a small table for
two in the Annex, her hips weaving from side to side in a carefully practiced
imitation of Diva's sexy wiggle.
He found himself eyeing the shift and ripple of her buttocks as she
walked, and shook his head violently. If the Ultimate Ditz is giving you a
hard-on, kid, he told himself grimly, then you are in BAD shape.
PART TWO: Various bedtimes
Early February 1982
The Bandit rubbed his eyes and put down the book, tucking his pen in
it for a bookmark. He sighed gustily and looked at the closed door to the
living room. Muffled sounds of conversation were coming from outside,
interspersed with shouts of raucous laughter: Conan, having some fun at the
expense of one of the Wiz's folks, no doubt. There was no sign of Zero; it was
becoming obvious that he'd be spending tonight in Diva's room. Bummer.
On impulse, the Bandit walked swiftly to his cassette rack and
withdrew an album that he almost never played any more. He popped it into the
deck, pulled on his headphones, and began to disrobe.
"Oh very young, what will you leave us this time?
You're only dancing on this Earth for a short while,
And though your dreams may toss and turn you now...."
"Come to bed, liebchen," Diva smiled, stretching out languidly on the
narrow mattress. Her body wasn't a pin-up artist's wet dream by any means: a
bit heavy in the hips and thighs, just a hint of a double chin. But her heavy
breasts and sinuous torso had an appeal all their own, as did the tawny patch
of hair just above her swollen labia.
She licked her lips. "I'm thirsty."
Zero smiled at her as he undid the buckle on his belt and dropped his
pants to the floor. His straining underwear was stretched even more out of
shape than usual, and he walked over to her and waved the huge bulge in front
of her as he unbuttoned his shirt. "I can go get you a glass of water from the
bathroom," he offered politely. "Or did you have something else in mind?"
"Hmmmm...." She rolled over onto her side, facing him and propping up
her head on one elbow. She licked her lips again, reaching out with her free
hand and giving the waistband of his underpants a tiny tug. The huge,
throbbing mass under the cloth shifted position and tried frantically to
escape, but didn't quite make it. She laughed lightly at the spectacle, and
ran a caressing hand over the scarcely-covered testicles, weighing them
gently. With another gentle tug, she finally pulled the waistband over the
tremendous obstruction keeping his underwear on, and the pants fell to the
ground.
Zero's penis was a terrifying club of throbbing meat dangling in her
face, as big around as a kolbassi and nearly ten inches long. It was the kind
of penis one tended to see in porn flicks, the sort of equipment that always
seemed to belong to the men submitting their life histories to the Penthouse
Forum. Most of the men who saw it coming out of the shower or in the locker
room turned pale and got very quiet, suddenly selfconscious. Even Conan, who
was put together like a stunt double for Arnold Schwarzenegger, said of it,
"All that meat on that skinny little guy.... it's just not fair! He probably
can't even manage a hard-on without passing out!"
That obviously wasn't the case, as Diva could readily attest. It was
true, the weight of the organ was such that it never stood up at more than a
horizontal position even when fully hard, but that didn't matter to her. All
that mattered was where it went, and what it did when it got there. She stuck
her tongue out as far as it would go, and licked the underside of the shaft,
from the base to the tip of the swollen purple glans, and smacked her lips
delightedly. "Finger me," she said, "Finger me while I suck you dry."
Zero slid a teasing hand down the length of her belly and over her
pubic mound, searching for her clitoris. It was already oozing and swollen as
he touched it; there was no question but that she'd been playing with it
already before he'd gotten in. She was in no mood to waste time that night, he
decided, and proceeded to slide two fingers into her slick crack as deeply as
they could go. Diva grunted loudly, gently caught the huge head of the bobbing
member between her parted lips, and teased the slit with the tip of her
tongue, tasting the sticky pre-come there. His fingers were finishing her work
of the past three hours, and she felt her orgasm surging up in her like a wave
of molten lead. She smiled around the huge knob between her lips, looked up at
Zero with wide blue eyes like a child asking for praise, and inhaled sharply.
It had taken months of practice with dildoes, but she'd learned to
relax her throat muscles and take his entire penis down her throat without
gagging, a trick none of his old girlfriends could ever have matched. It made
him her slave; he couldn't say no to her loving mouth, and the fact that the
act made him seem the dominant one only put a touch of kink in the total
control she exercised. But tonight she was too close to coming to bother with
teasing him. Her strong inhalation sucked the entire pulsing member into her
waiting mouth and down her throat, all the way down to the base. She heaved up
on the bed, hands on his buttocks, scrotum flapping rhythmically against her
dripping chin, and tried her best to swallow his penis whole. And when she
felt him hit bottom, she began to hum.
That was all it took. Zero groaned and his legs shook as he dumped a
huge load of semen directly into her stomach, and her humming turned into a
confused series of muffled screams and gagging noises as she came all over his
hand, the warm flow of liquid in her belly sending her over the edge. Zero,
unable to endure the excess of stimulation, pulled his shaft from her mouth,
and she coughed up a thin stream of semen after it, a grey line that trickled
down her chin and onto her breast. She grabbed the still-rigid rod and pulled
as hard as she could, milking more fluid from it as she pulled him down atop
her and tried to feed his length into her sopping vagina.
"Now that I've lost everything to you,
You say you want to start something new,
And it's breaking my heart, you're leaving,
And baby I'm grieving...."
Teenie stared at the ceiling in the darkness, arms at her sides, legs
tightly together. I wonder where he is tonight, she thought. Is he lonely?
Does he miss me? Or will he just haul out one of those disgusting magazines
from under the bed and pull on himself until he forgets about me? Probably.
That miserable son of a bitch. I did the right thing, leaving him.
She rolled over and looked out the window at the drifting snow. It had
been snowing heavily for nearly a week now, and there was more to come. She
shivered. It was cold, even under her blankets. She frowned; it hadn't always
been this cold at night. But of course not; she'd had him in bed with her
then, cradling her in his arms and saying how he'd loved her....
"Not tonight, Bandit. Please?"
"Sure, sweetheart. Not if you don't want to. Sleep well."
And that was all. No nasty hints, no pleas, no angry words or threats.
And later that night, when she was drifting in and out of sleep, she
remembered the sudden splash of something warm on her back, the gentle hand
that wiped away the stain, the kiss on her shoulder blade. He'd gotten what he
wanted anyway. He always did.
"I don't miss him." She said it out loud to the dark. "He used me as a
sex object. I don't need him. The Rainbow Wizard was right. He just uses
people, and throws them away. I'm better off alone now. I am...."
She rolled over again, and started suddenly to find a furtive hand
betwen her thighs. Angrily she moved her hand elsewhere, and firmly shut her
eyes. I'll say twenty Hail Marys tomorrow, she decided, and go to Confession.
"Oh, I can't keep it in,
I can't keep it in I gotta let it out,
I gotta show the world, world's gotta see,
See all the love, love that's in me...."
Livewire staggered through the snow, singing to off-key to himself.
His breath was thick with beer and vomit, and the front of his parka was
stained. He fell forward into the snow and lay there, panting.
I gotta get up. My face is cold, I got snow down my pants, man, that
really sucks serious dick. Shit. I'm tired. Maybe I should take a nap or some
shit, just rest a minute. I'll get up in a second. I'll count to three. I'll
count to ten. I'll count to three. One. two--
"Whugghh," he said, scrambling to hands and knees and heaving beer and
half-digested hamburgers into the snow. He wiped his mouth with one hand and
got to his feet, weaving. Up ahead, through the snow, he could barely make out
the front of the Eastern Habitat. He stumbled forward wearily, one hand
outstretched before him. There were the front doors, up ahead, and there were
the steps, and there-- he unconsciously counted up four floors and over two
windows-- was HER window. SHE was asleep, looked like. Or she was fucking some
football player or some shit up there. Yeah! Fucking some football player
while he was stuck out here in the cold! Mother FUCKER!
"MOTHER FUCKER! YOU BITCH! I HATE YOU! I HOPE YOU DIEEEEEEEE---"
Livewire went face down into the snow again, retching. At long last,
the last of the beer gone, he crawled up the steps and onto the porch. He got
one hand onto the door handle, and pulled feebly. The door hadn't latched
properly when the last resident had come in, and so it opened with a click. He
pulled himself inside, smiled happily at the warmth of the air as the door
shut and locked behind him, and finally, mercifully, passed out.
"Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning,
Born of the one Light Eden saw play...."
The Rainbow Wizard held Mary Magdalene in his lap, gently bouncing her
up and down, up and down. Her smooth, wet pussy alternately clasped and
released his manhood, and he gently suckled on her breast as she threw her
head back and sighed in utter ecstasy.
"I love you."
"I love you."
"I love you."
"I love you."
Their whispers were a litany of love under the ceiling poster of
astrological signs that served as a canopy for Mary Magdalene's bed. Unicorns
adorned every wall, and posters of fantasy heroes with swords and bloodied
shields hung on the door and beneath the window. A quartz crystal dangled
before the single lit candle in the room, casting multiple sparks of rainbow
light over the two intertwined bodies.
"I love you."
"I love you."
"I love you."
"I love you."
Over and over again, the words were repeated, chewed into meaningless
mantric syllables as the surges of sexual release ebbed and flowed forward,
surged up and receded, never allowing release, again and again and again....
"I love you."
"I love you."
"I love you."
"I love you."
Mary Magdalene felt the beginnings of his orgasm, the tightening in
his legs, the swelling in his loins, the thin sheen of sweat on his face. She
smiled at his expression, glad of his joy, and began to accelerate her
thrusts.
"I LOVE you!"
"I LOVE you!"
"I LOVE you!"
"I LOVE you!"
Suddenly he tensed, his legs splaying outward, and gasped as his seed
filled her to the brim and overflowed, sweet, sticky, glowing faintly in the
dim light. The hot fluid scalded her insides, bringing on a sudden orgasm for
her as well, swift, sharp as a dagger, and as suddenly gone.
"I--ugh--LOVE YOU!"
"UH! AH! I LOVE YOUUUUUUU....."
She fell forward across him, her carpet of black hair extinguishing
the candle, and kissed the long scar from his collarbone to his groin as he
fell into a deep sleep. Lovingly, with a worshiper's care, she lapped up the
softly glowing semen from his shrinking penis, licking it clean, then snuggled
up against him in the darkness. Her final whisper was a benediction.
"I love you...."
"Now that I've passed your test,
How could I lie to you baby, I'll never make you sad...."
Twink laughed merrily, clutching her sides and rolling on the floor at
Conan's latest joke. Of course, she hadn't "gotten" it, at least she she
didn't think she had, but she'd learned it was safer to pretend. When she
asked what things meant, people always groaned and looked funny at her, and
that was no fun at all.
Wiping her eyes, she got to her feet, and said, "Oh, Conan, that was a
scream! I love hearing your jokes."
"Great," Conan grinned, knowing damn well that she was trying to hide
the fact that she was totally clueless. God damn, what a total airhead! How
could anyone get as far as she did without learning *something* about what was
what, anyway?
"Is the Bandit coming back soon?" She phrased the question as casually
as she could.
"He's already asleep," Conan replied, inclining his head toward the
closed door to the room the Bandit shared with Zero.
"Oh!" Twink got up hastily, smoothing the skirt of her nightdress.
"Then I guess I should be going; I just wanted to talk to him, that's why I
came down here...."
"Well, there's me. Why don't you stick around for a while?" Conan
smiled winningly and stretched, flexing his muscles.
Twink looked into his eyes, her smile a frozen mask. She was
remembering the last time she'd stayed around with Conan to wait for the
Bandit: the dark, sweaty room, the awful, awful....THING stretching her poor
mouth out of shape, the taste of mucus and something else, his voice: "Don't
use your teeth, you stupid bitch! SUCK on it, don't try to chew it up!"
"Thanks," she said with feeling, "But I'd die first." She cast one
longing look at the shut door keeping her from the Bandit, and fled into the
hallway.
Conan watched her leave, sighing. Women, he thought to himself. What a
fucked-up species. He opened the door to his half of the quad, and noted that
neither the Rainbow Wizard nor Mary Magdalene was anywhere to be found. He
sighed again. Well, he thought, dropping his pants, at least I can beat off
without having to listen to them whisper sweet nothings to each other all
night. Now where'd I leave that copy of Hustler?
"Another Saturday night, and I ain't got nobody,
I got some money 'cause I just got paid,
How I wish I had someone to talk to,
I'm in an awful way."
The Bandit pulled off the headphones angrily and hurled them across
the room. "Fuck that shit," he muttered, rolling over and closing his eyes.
Across the room, the cassette deck finished playing the album in a
soft whir, and calmly shut itself off.
__________________________________________________________________________
Amelia's Starring Role
She was small, and somehow childlike even though her eyes were wise
and her gait determined. A casual observer would notice the grace in her
step, and admire the resoluteness in the pose of her head; she seemed to be
searching for something, but gave the impression its find would be unexpected.
Like a sleepwalker, perhaps, or just a solemn little girl playing hide-and-
seek with an imaginary friend.
Soft, shimmering folds of cloth fell in a swirl from her almost
too-high Imperial neckline. She was long-limbed but short-waisted and favored
this style for its complementary treatment of this imperfection. Her grey
eyes widened as she caught a glimpse of herself in the glossy surface of the
domed metal corridor, and her pensive look spoke volumes on her self-esteem.
Her lips were next to widen as a tall figure moved into view directly behind
her.
"Oh, sir, I hadn't expected to see you...you startled me." she
lilted delicately in a surprisingly mature tone.
"I can see that." smiled the older, silver-haired man whom she turned
to face. "I'd been told you were looking for me, so I decided to shorten your
trip. Would you prefer the lounge, or is my office more suited to the
matter?"
"The lounge would be alright, I suppose. It's nothing of any real
urgency, but I thought you might like to hear this from me, first; it is my
assignment, after all." she smiled in return.
"Cut! Okay, we've been here long enough for tonight, and that's a
wrap for this scene. We'll pick up at 9 am with the reshoot of scene 2 --
that footage doesn't look as good as it could. Remember, everybody, plenty
of sleep and be ready for another full day of shooting tomorrow. We're
doing good and we're staying on schedule, let's keep it up!" The director
stood as he said this and the crew began breaking up the equipment. The
actors gathered belongings, hoping to change in their trailors and have
enough time to beat the late traffic; the two on stage allowed their
characters to leave them, slowly.
"Amelia, you're doing a wonderful job. It's amazing to me that you've
never filmed before! Stage actors are rarely this poised when it comes to
making movies."
"Yes, well, it's new but it's fun. I've been told I'm a natural,"
she replied with the nonchalance of someone who's not sure she's really been
paid a compliment, "but I think it's just luck: good luck to have my founder-
ing ego boosted by some of the best actors in the business."
Shedding his role like a lazy chameleon, Patrick resumed his natural
British accent; a reversal, of sorts, as she regained the oddly-inflected,
strangely neutral "American" accent of her own. "I think your ego is a
healthy one, no worries there." he chuckled. "Would you like to go into town
and have dinner this evening? I'm absolutely cringing at the thought of
another repast in my cabin, and I'd enjoy the company."
"Sleeping was my only other option tonight, someone borrowed my cards
and I can't play solitaire without them, so, why not?" Her mischievous grin
was infectious, and the two of them laughed as they parted to their respective
trailors.
Escaping the gown was a monumental achievement, its stays and pins
being reminiscent of a straitjacket; Amelia was almost afronted at being
forced to hide her perfectly good, natural figure within its confines. Oh,
well, it was her chosen occupation and this was one of its hazards. She
smiled again, and blushed...Patrick Harrison, for all his status as an
*actor*, on stage and off, was proving a delightful new friend. He was still
the dashing, impeccably-attired, prematurely-greying hero whose exploits
shaped her life; he had, of course, grown into his grey a bit and he'd look
equally impeccable in a tuxedo or faded denims. Now, here she was, in what
was being touted as the hottest movie of the season in a year studded with
spectacular releases; the leading female role opposite the man she'd fallen
in love with when she was a little girl. A sci-fi flick, at that! The
ultra-futuristic sets made her marvel, even though they were just mock-ups.
Well, with all the praise she was receiving, as well as the prompting and
approval of others in the field whose names had been household words for
years made her feel more at-ease with her success. She rushed at the last
minute, mindful of Patrick's waiting and aware that her own unbidden fears
of making a fool of herself in such glamorous company could prey too heavily
on her mind to allow sleep if she let it get too great an advantage.
"Oh, there you are. You surprise me, Amelia, most women take their
time and make a man's stomach go through horrible agonies waiting for their
suppers. I approve."
That, spoken with such a serious face, caused Amelia to break out in
giggles. He Patrick was, if nothing else, a very entertaining and diverting
fellow. If he hadn't been there she honestly believed the "magic" would have
been missing from the film completely. Such spontaneity put her at her ease
immediately, and he seemed genuinely to like her.
Patrick cocked his head, then cocked his left eyebrow, returned her
smile and gestured to the door. They left quickly, eager to be rid of the
site for awhile and anticipating "real food" at an unspecified restaurant in
the town below.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"...and then we switched places, and soon everyone in the chorus was
playing `musical chairs'!" laughed Patrick. Reminiscing was pleasant with
Amelia; she seemed to enjoy his discourse, and found amusing those exploits
he'd all but forgotten. At forty-three he was still in his prime, but he'd
started so young that many of his memories of the stage were more than twenty-
five years in the past. She was a novice, just starting out in her first
large part and showing tremendous promise -- he was happy to be a part of this
experience for her, and knew she depended on him a great deal. She was per-
haps twenty-four or -five, but commanded much dignity for one so young. She'd
go far...
Amelia laughed with childish eagerness, amazed to hear some of the
finer points of the behind-stage antics of what were some of her favorite
productions. She was dressed in a light, summery dress that grazed her
shoulders and allowed her freedom of movement, weary of the tightly clinging
garments she wore for the better part of each day of filming. She leaned
toward him in a gesture of innocence and trust, delineating even more the
small space between them. They'd almost finished their meal, a pasta made
sweet with basil and herbs and accompanied by a chickory salad and a good
white wine. The waiters brought extra tidbits throughout the evening to
Amelia, who jokingly passed them along to Patrick. They both declined a
sweet, looking forward to a coffee in the quiet of the trailers later.
"Shall we go now, before these Lotharios decide to tag along behind
you?" he quipped. It was getting late and they did have to be ready for
makeup at 6 o'clock in the morning.
"Hmm...I suppose we should. It's a shame to have to stop our talk
here, though. I've been learning a lot from you, Patrick, and I appreciate
the fact that you're here when I need you. I'd like the opportunity to get
to know you better, I think we have the potential to become good friends.
Maybe you can even be my mentor." she teased.
"Or, perhaps, your Svengali. I've always fancied myself a psycho-
logical Frankenstein..." mused Patrick.
The drive back was uneventful and decidedly too short. The night
was perfect for a long walk, but they didn't have the time to call their own.
"Would you like to have a nightcap? I really don't want to end the
evening right now. I have a good recipe for Irish coffee..." Amelia offered.
"Alright, but we'd best part company soon. We are creatures of our
contracts, you know."
"It doesn't take that long to make coffee, and I'm sure you'll make
short work of the drink...you did with everything else tonight! How you can
eat calamari I'll never know!"
"I like squid." was his typical reply.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"You know, I've been a fan of yours for a long time; I can hardly
believe I'm actually working with you on a movie!" breathed Amelia, with
something akin to wonder. Her coffee was long since gone, and Patrick was
having his third. The surrealism of the past weeks' events, coupled with
the alcohol which always made her introspective, produced a quality of
vulnerability in her expression. She leaned against Patrick as naturally
as though it were a lifelong habit, and his arms encircled her gently.
"Have you?" he whispered. It was an unusual friendship they shared,
founded on mutual respect and admiration. They had come to know each other
very well in a short period of time, and he brooded on the fact that he may
have allowed himself to become too close. She was everything he'd ever
imagined she'd be in their shared art, and would grow even more than she
already had, given the chance. And he didn't feel the least constrained,
wasn't bored by her chatter and didn't dread her company as he did with most
of his leads. Amelia was, in his estimation, the epitome of the ideal
companion.
"Patrick? What's the matter?" she asked. He stiffened a bit, a
little annoyed she sensed his moods so easily. He'd never before been an
easy cipher.
"Nothing, I'm just thinking." He relaxed, and chided himself. It
was a lucky man who could win the concern of a woman like Amelia. "I've
been reflecting on how quickly we've gone through the traditional getting-to-
know-you phase of this relationship. It's uncanny how easy it is for you to
read me."
"Oh." Grey eyes gazed out into the dim room. Then a warm body
pressed into his, and the kitten-soft lashes framing those glorious eyes
brushed his cheek. Their fluttering, and the light, shallow breath pulsing
against his throat made Patrick Harrison, a normally deliberate and con-
scientious man, renowned the world over for his ability to bring strength
to any production whose presence he graced, miss his cue for the first time
in his life; only when Amelia half-smiled, and pulled his mouth to hers, did
he realize he'd stopped breathing.
They kissed exquisitely, cherishing the contours of each others'
lips, and teeth, and tongues. Exhaling rapidly into her mouth, Patrick
almost stopped cold at the feelings she elicited in him. It was a shock to
experience such joy, and tenderness, and passion... he had been blase about
the whole issue of sex after the tumultuous three years or so following his
awkward first fumblings with a girl he'd thought he loved. Now, this sweet
creature had reawakened emotions he'd believed long-dead. He moaned against
her cheek, raining kisses along her eyelids and nose. Amelia nuzzled his
jaw, amazed at her own, intense desires. She didn't know what she should
do, though, not being sure what Patrick would like; he wasn't exactly a
schoolboy, he was decidedly a man who knew his own mind. Her own mind was
refusing to respond, anyway, her pleasure sensors taking over...she
abandoned reason and gave in to more primal instincts.
Amelia felt large, warm hands caressing her back. Patrick pulled
her with him as he reclined, and held her on top of him. She was writhing
sensuously against him, and teasing his throat with light nips and occasional
flicks of her tongue; he responded in kind, tracing her jaw from her chin to
her ear and sucking the lobe. Her breathing quickened perceptibly and she
ground her hips against his. She was driving the hardening, thickening length
of his penis against her swelling mound, rubbing up and down and making her
moves more precise and deliberate. Patrick, in answer, pulled the skirt of
her dress up over her thigh and began kneading her tender flesh. His penis
was so full now he felt as though he'd explode.
"Amelia, help me. Lift up so I can pull this damned dress off you!"
he whispered. His vocal cords would have been useless for anything else.
Amelia got up abruptly, lifting her dress up in one swift movement.
Her breasts were small, but high and firm and she had no need for a bra. Her
panties were tiny scraps of white cotton held together with lace, a tiny
curtain for the triangle of curly blonde hair trying to peep through. Her
eyes lowering suddenly, she blushed; it served to make her look even more
enticing, and shifted subtly the tint in her small, pink nipples. Then, with
a determined look, she reached down to Patrick's shirt and started to
unbutton it.
Her hair fell in honeyed waves as she leaned forward, and Patrick
caught a handful and kissed it swiftly. He could barely keep his hands off
her, but he wanted to let her make all the moves. She reached in as his shirt
was half undone and ran her hands lightly over his chest and across his
nipples. She rolled her thumbs and forefingers around them gently, and gave
slight, insistent pulls until they were so erect they ached; he finished
taking off his shirt and pulled her head softly to his chest. Amelia touched
the tip of her tongue briefly to each nipple, then circled first one, then
the other before fastening on them. She allowed one hand to drift down over
the bulge she'd thrilled to earlier, to massage its length and to caress it.
Her other hand occupied itself with Patrick's other nipple, his entire body
now sensitive to her every move.
Amelia worked her fingers underneath his waistband, teasing him. He
unzipped his slacks and pushed her away enough for him to slide them halfway
off. She rose, and pulled him by his hands; he stepped out of the pants and
positioned his thumbs inside the waist of his briefs, but she caught his
hands and pulled them away. She knelt before him and pulled down, slowly, on
the undergarment until his penis was in full view. Amelia smiled, and hugged
his thighs; then she placed her tongue on the base of his penis and began
stroking him up and down, sucking with her lips at the base of the glans and
lowering her mouth over the whole organ. Patrick wove his hands into her
hair, and held her, and thrusted into her throat whenever she covered him.
She was soft and gentle and yielding and she was doing the most incredible
things to him with those luscious lips!
With growing intensity she sucked every inch of him, wrapping her
tongue around him and massaging his tightly clenched buttocks. She had him
at her mercy, she knew; she was also aware, for the first time, that she was
the one who'd initiated contact to begin with. It was with some amazement
that she realized he was shaking and whispering her name...
"Patrick? Are you alright?" she queried with a bemused smile.
"Dear God, Amelia, you don't know what you've done to me! I'm an old
man, remember? I don't think I can move." he breathed as he collapsed onto
the couch. Amelia leaned forward and kissed him lightly.
"Would you like to try to get as far as the bedroom? Once there you
won't have to do *too* much."
With that promise in mind Patrick found the strength necessary to
follow right behind her.
"Here, isn't this better?" She held out her hands to him and pulled
him down beside her. He quickly pinned her to the bed and began kissing
her hair, her eyes, her nose, her mouth; making her gasp aloud as his lips
and tongue traveled down her throat and lit on her breasts. He circled
the dark pink aureoles, one after the other, lavishing his tongue over each
nipple and teasing them until they stood tautly away from her breasts.
Patrick was the one to take note, this time, of the effect his efforts were
having -- Amelia's mouth was drawn into a small "o" and her eyes were tightly
closed. Her skin was incredibly smooth, he thought, scented of baby powder
and glistening with a fine sheen of perspiration.
Amelia's eyes flew open as her back arched involuntarily, thrusting
her hips out and opening herself to Patrick's exploring tongue. She wasn't
expecting such a sudden change in his attentions, and this unpreparedness
compounded the searing heat in her loins. His fingers penetrated the soft
folds of her labia, searching for and spreading her natural lubrication. The
tip of his tongue buried itself just above her clitoris and, having found the
rapidly swelling organ, began circling it. His lips teased as well, sucking
gently then kissing the little button of deep-pink flesh until it was nearly
double its original size. Patrick balanced much of his weight on his elbows,
which were atop Amelia's thighs, to keep her from bucking and finishing this
game too soon...there were many more tricks to teach her before allowing her
to reach her climax.
"Patrick...more, please, more...can't take much more of this!" she
begged. Her whole body seemed numb, all her senses centred on the remarkable
feelings his tongue and fingers were eliciting. He slipped his tongue into
her vagina, savoring the sweetness that was almost overpowering. He could
feel her muscles contract in an involuntary effort to drag his face even
closer than he already was, and knew it was time to give her what she (and
he) both wanted.
Patrick pulled himself to his knees and gazed into the fevered eyes
and flushed face of the beautiful girl who had become a part of his life in
an incredibly short time. She sincerely liked him, he could tell...and he
liked her *very* much. The emotional always enhanced the physical...
"Please, don't stop now, I need you, Patrick! I want you to make love
to me." Her simple plea was a ragged whisper, and her hips twitched in
anticipation of his next move. He grasped them and lifted them and positioned
the tip of his penis at the glistening entrance of her vagina. With infinite
slowness, and great care to prevent her hips from moving, he penetrated her
completely. Her creamy folds engulfed his length, and he could see her now-
protruding clitoris quiver in hopes of direct stimulation. Patrick massaged
her buttocks firmly and tightly, and began to grind himself into her; he
withdrew reluctantly, then pulled her to him as he thrust. He felt her legs
encircle him and draw him closer, but he retained his control and refused to
put down her hips. Her vagina was tight, but her natural secretions made it
wet and inviting.
He placed one hand under the small of her back and brought the other
around front. Her quiet moans crescendoed as he used his thumb to rub her
clitoris, and he felt her body shake. Amelia pulled herself forward and
grabbed Patrick's head, drawing him to her waiting, open mouth. He moved
slowly downward, releasing her lower body and hugging her to him as he reached
for her kiss; as their lips met he began thrusting methodically and deliber-
ately, increasing his tempo quickly. Their pelvises ground together and their
legs entwined and, after that well-timed kiss, their eyes remained locked.
The intensity of their rythmic coupling made them lose track of time.
Amelia felt the first tiny quivers of orgasm building and tightened her hold
on Patrick's back. He followed her pace, allowing himself to loosen his
restraint and begin his own climb towards release. Waves of excitement and
sexual heat rippled through her spine and focused on her vagina as his penis
stroked her insides faster and faster: her clitoris seemed to reach out to
him and was rewarded with a throbbing assault by his pelvic bones. His
testicles slapped against her with every thrust, and the backs of her thighs
and her buttocks were brushed and tickled by his thick nest of pubic hair.
Breathing heavily, and hearing his blood scream in his ears, Patrick
forced himself to hold back until he felt her vagina constrict against him,
proof of her own orgasm. It was vitally important to him to make this good
for Amelia, and watching the look on her face as she climaxed would enhance
his own enjoyment. She was caught up in the incredibly fast pace of their
lovemaking, and was thrusting back as strongly and eagerly as he. The
seeming innocence in her eyes created the strangest sensation of longing in
him, made him want to hold her forever and satisfy her every desire; that
last he could do, obviously -- he grinned, then grimaced as a spark of
urgency spurred him on to even more furious lunges.
"Pat, I'm cumming...I'm cumming!" shrieked Amelia, clawing him to her
and locking him between her legs. She bucked and pushed against his back,
driving him even further inside her. His testicles demanded release, and
he drove into her with a shudder.
"Amelia...so good...oh, God, Amelia..." he breathed as he felt his
semen shoot through the tip of his penis and into her quaking vagina. They
lay tangled together until they fell asleep.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"Good morning, sleepyhead." Patrick whispered into Amelia's ear. It
would soon be time to be made up for the morning's filming and his sixth
sense for time had awoken him on schedule. Her honey-colored hair fanned
across her cheek, and he brushed it away as she opened her eyes. She saw
him and smiled, then stretched and looked for all the world like a sleepy
kitten.
"Hmm...I almost thought last night was just a dream, Patrick. I feel
so *good* this morning!" she purred, "...and hungry." as an afterthought.
"Well, you should be hungry, after all that exercise." he teased.
"I never would have believed it would be like this if anyone had told
me...I'd always heard it would be painful." mused Amelia.
With a start Patrick turned: "You're not telling me this was your
first time?" The incredulity on his face made her laugh.
"Yes, Patrick, you `deflowered' me!" quipped she with much amusement.
"Oh, Amelia, I'm sorry -- I had no idea, you should have told me -"
"Patrick," she interrupted, "I wanted you as much as you wanted me. I
still want to be with you, to go out with you, to stay in with you. I like
what you taught me about myself, and I appreciate the fact that you were
gentle even though you didn't know I'd never done it before. I guess I've
just never wanted to before...you're the only man I've ever been this com-
fortable with and I don't want you to feel guilty about making me feel good!"
With a slow smile Patrick held out his arms and she snuggled against
him eagerly. "I suppose I'm too old-fashioned to take the surrender of your
virginity that lightly. I like you, Amelia, and that could turn into some-
thing more with time. And Heaven knows we have time!"
"You never know...but I'd like to have you teach me about some of the
finer points of lovemaking. I'm sure I can be a good pupil." she said as she
pulled away and started to rise; "Why don't we practice again tonight?"
"You know, they say you're a natural..."
******************************************************************************
Her dreams had been colored of late, colored by someone else's dreams. She
knew the nature of her own, the texture, taste, material of them. Some
foreign entity was weaving itself into her dreams. At first, it was limited
to the dreams but recently she would wake to find her hands exploring her
own body as if they were feeling it for the first time. She was no stranger
to her own caresses but these were the caresses of a new lover, testing,
themselves, taking her to newer landscapes, and newer heights. No orgasms
yet, but consciousness would find her in a high state of arousal. It was
almost as if someone was dreaming of her each night and, in the dream,
merging with her mind. Worse, it was learning through the nightly links. Was
it only learning about her physically? Or was it also learning about her
desires and fears? She was torn between the need to sleep, to learn, and the
desire to avoid the confrontation.
Cool air caressed her body this time and lifted her hair from her
shoulders and back. Moist earth between her feet and rough wood supported
her bare breasts. Across the paddock she could barely make out the form of
the stallion. It, too, seemed to wonder what it was doing awake and,
perhaps, what this nude woman was doing staring at it under a full moon.
She'd never ridden it, only run with it in the fields. Now she wondered why
she never had. The owners had assured her that they trusted her. But ....
The horse tossed its mane and stepped towards her, silencing her thoughts.
Nuzzling between her breasts, it licked at the beads of sweat that somehow
had formed there in the cool air. His eyes conveyed the feeling that he
wanted something more. Her body hummed in agreement while her mind tried to
gain control, to at least slow down and think. To no avail. She found herself
climbing the fence and lowering herself onto the stallion's back. Warmth
from the horse spread into her legs.
Her loins were on fire with heat and need. The dreams were getting closer
to her desires. Mentally she was torn between a cold shower and her lust but
her fingers worked softly in between her lips to tease her clit tossing all
thoughts of a cold shower from her mind. Faster and harder she stroked
herself, riding her own hand, feeling not it but the heat and hardness of
the stallion's back as she came in a flood, her moans merging with the voice
of the stallion.
Throughout the next day she and the stallion exchanged nervous glances.
Neither seemed comfortable with the other's presence yet the the stallion
followed her as much as the paddock would allow and she remained outside as
much as possible.
Towards afternoon a horse trailer drove up in the yard and a young man,
not more than 18, jumped down from the cab. Puzzled, she walked out to meet
him.
"I've a mare to be delivered for Sam Fabian. Is he around?"
"Right here, you're looking at 'him'".
"Oh, sorry! Sam is short for Samantha, I take it?"
"Ayuh, that it is. But what's this about a mare? I'm not expecting any horses
at all."
"Got me, I'm just doing the delivery. She's all paid for, along with the
delivery, and
all the medical papers are here."
"I still have no idea why. Who requested this??"
"Got me. My boss just told me to do the pick up."
"Well let's call him."
"No can do. He's gone for the day, have to call him tomorrow."
"Great. Well, let's put her out in the paddock for the night and I'll
worry about it tomorrow."
They dropped the ramp to reveal a jet black Arabian standing solidly in
the light, calmly waiting for them to free her.
Sam said, "Quite a presence she has. Calm, considering the ride she must
have had coming up that road."
"Didn't hear a sound out of her the whole way out here. She loaded as if
she was going in because she wanted to, not because we wanted her to.",
said the driver.
They unclipped the harness and Sam started to lead the Arabian down the
ramp but rapidly found that she had her own intentions. She clattered down
and tossed her head, emitting a high, nearly defiant, whinny that was
rapidly answered from the other side of the house. Without prompting she
moved towards the paddock with a very deliberate gait. The two people looked
at each other, shrugged, and followed in her wake. The two animals were
watching each other at a distance of ten feet across the gate. Seemingly
uncomfortable with her gaze the stallion pranced to and fro, never taking
his eyes off of her. She, in turn, held the gaze, motionless. The tableau
was broken only when Sam opened the gate to allow the Arabian to walk in to
the paddock, increasing the anxiety of the stallion.
The evening passed in uncomfortable silence as the Arabian shunned the
stallion and the two humans carefully avoided intruding on the other's
privacy. Before going to bed herself she groomed each horse and placed them
in distant stalls. She bid a cool "Goodnight." to the driver and fell into a
deep sleep.
Her hand was in violent motion when she woke and seconds later her face was
splashed with sticky fluid. Her surprise turned to dismay as she found the
stallion's huge cock still grasped in her hand and his semen dripping from
her face onto her bare breasts and thighs. Dashing from the stall she
collided with the driver and drove them both to the ground. Attempts to
disentangle herself only resulted in more confusion until his arms locked
around her head and forced her eyes to his. A presence dwelled there that
had not been visible previously and she felt her limbs steadying despite the
realization that he, too, was naked and his hard cock pressed against her
stomach. She knew that he'd seen her with the stallion and, somehow, that he
had something to do with the incident. Her thoughts were borne out by his
words.
"What you can do for a stallion you can to for a human, no? Grasp my cock.
No, don't be shy. Take it. Feel it pulse in your hand. Feel the heat of the
blood in it. Desire it. Taste it. Take it into you."
Compulsion overrode her natural distaste for the act. The heat pulsed
through her arm and sank to her breasts and groin. The semen on her seemed
to melt and flow into her. Again, she found her hand slowly pumping a cock
as her head bowed to take it deep in her throat. Gently she sucked on it,
taking the entire length into her before drawing it out slowly and teasing
the tip with her tounge. Caught up in the moment she could not determine if
it was the horse or human she was pleasuring and found she cared not at all.
The hot flesh in her mouth left her breathless and tormented and the hot
spurt flowed down her throat to pool with her own inflamed desire.
Moments passed as she continued to suck his cock, desperately, wanting
something, anything to satisfy her. With his hands pulling her head back he
denied her even this small pleasure but his next words sent her heart racing.
"Look behind you. Do you want ... that?"
The stallion pressed against the fence, his cock throbbing again in the
moonlight, the mare shadowed behind him. Despite the fact that the mare was
in heat the stallion's eyes blazed at her, the human, already covered with
his semen.
He reared, voicing his hunger, and dropped. The heat was visible in his
eyes as he turned on the mare and was behind her in seconds. Once again
she complied with unvoiced desires and spread her rear legs for him as
he reared again to mount her, forelegs falling upon her back as he thrust
his cock into her in a frenzy of desire. The mare, however, stood there
stoically, head turned, locked on the human female, daring her to do ... what?
Sam felt the eyes draw her to the fence, the driver literally in tow as
she still grasped his cock in her hand. She broke eye contact with the mare
and found her eyes now locking on the long thick cock sliding into the
mare. Mimicing the stallions thrusts, she began to pump the driver's cock
with her hand, feeling not his heat and hardness but the stallion's.
As the mare increased his power, so did she, until both were nearly blurs.
With a cry of triumph the stallion climaxed, rearing again, and pulling
away from the mare. His cry was echoed by Sam, but her's was a cry of
frustration, not triumph. She bent over the fence, breasts caught on
the other side, and spread her legs just as the mare had. With a nearly
painful jerk and another cry of desperation she pulled the driver's
cock towards her cunt, wimpering for him to help her.
He slid into her with a lunge and felt her muscles constrict around
him, holding his cock tightly inside of her. She thrust back, trying
to take more of him inside. He maintained his balance only by grasping
her hips firmly before starting to pump into her. Still she wimpered
and her eyes glowed with frustration. The mare still gazed at her
when the stallion moved to answer her eyes. He stalked over to her, his
gait and determination matching those of the driver. Lowering his head,
he flicked his tounge out and began to lap his own semen from her breasts.
The nuzzling and licking distorted her breasts with their force but she felt
only the warm wet breath and a burning need glowing inside her. Her legs
and arms ached from meeting the driver's thrusts, wood bruised her ribs,
but still she rocked between man and horse, not sure which one was filling
her and which one licked her. Lost in her desire everything blended into
one and the hot semen spilling into her cunt drove her past reason and
caused her to collapse to the ground in waves of hot pleasure as the man
and horse blended above her head.
She awoke with a start, her body convulsing with the pleasures of her
dream. Daylight streamed through the window, reminding her of the
stallion's semen that had been sprayed onto her face during her dream.
She put on her jeans and washed the sweat from her face as she
prepared for another day on the farm.
Making her way to the paddock, she noticed the driver leaning against
the rail. He noticed her approach and turned, walking away rapidly,
with an embarrased look on his face. She inhaled sharply as she
approached the paddock, taking in the deep musty odor of the stallion.
Her head spinned with memories of her recent escapade with the large
horse in her dreams.
The stallion was in a state of obvious excitement, his massive penis
hanging pendulously from between his legs. His testicles hanging
within the large hairy sac bobbing between his legs. The mare was
nibbling sensuously at his flank, increasing his appatite for release.
Sniffing at the base of her tail, the stallion curled back his lips,
as if testing a fine wine. The mare, noticing his expression stood
still, raising her tail and spreading her legs, squating slightly.
The stallion, penis raging madly between his legs, slapping his belly
with a life of its own moved behind the mare and rested his chin on
her rump. Suddenly, as if having received a silent signal, he sprang
upon her back and began to probe her rump with mad, blind thrusts.
Having found the opening to winking vulva he thrust forward, pushing
so hard that the mare was forced to take a step forward. He pushed
and shoved, strokes that would have killed a woman, but served to
placate the insatiable need of the mare.
Samantha looked on in awe as the stallion grunted his pleasure.
Suddenly, he stopped and let out a heavy groan as his tail began to
pump up and down, flagging the release of his built up tensions. His
come ran down his penis and dripped from his balls. Great streams of
thick, creamy white come. It ran from the mares vulva and down the
inside of her legs as she flicked her ears back and forth, awash in an
obvious wave of ecstasy. A few minutes later, the stallion withdrew,
his now flacid penis hanging limply from under his belly, swaying
mightily, even it's obviously placid state of inexcitedness.
Samantha suddenly noticed an overwhelming need for fullfillment,
unlike one that she had ever felt before. She *NEEDED* someone or
something badly. Now. Dissapointed that the stallion was obviously
spent for at least a few more hours, she turned to find the young
driver standing behind her eyeing her sheepishly.
"Pretty impressive show he puts on there maam."
"Ayuh. That he does. It's why he was bought in the first place."
"Well, I might not be as big as he is, but I sure do last a hell of a
lot longer than he did!"
"Oh do you now? I know that the mechanism is the same, but hell, the
delivery system beats anything I've ever had."
"Well, I can't argue with that."
"No? Too bad, you might have convinced me."
Looking at her from under the brim of his hat, he cracked a wide grin
and took her by the hand. Drawing her to his young, but well developed
body. She reached her hand down his pants and began to stroke his
penis with the palm of her hand. She didn't need to get him excited,
having watched the stallion cover the mare had taken care of that. He
unbuttoned her blouse and massaged her breasts, noticing with delight
her errect nipples. They both took a moment to squirm out of their
clothes and imediately fell back into each other's embrace. She
kneeled down and began to lick his throbbing cock. Remembering her
prevoius dream, she wondered what it would be like, if this were the
stallion's dick that she was kissing. Ravenously she engulfed his
head, lashing at it with her tongue. Letting go of his penis, she
turned and presented her ass to the young driver.
"Now! Just like the stud."
Needing no further encouragement he grasped her ass and began to
thrust into her, mimicking the grunts and cries tht the stallion had
just been making. Suddenly, a powerful orgasm overtook him. He came
for a minute and then pulled out. Spent with his efforts.
"Last longer, will we now?"
"Uh, I guess I was bit more excited than I thought."
"Ayuh, I guess you were."
Dissapointed with his short lived performance she put on her clothes
and walked off in a huff. Leaving him to sit and ponder his apparent
failure. The stallion, having overlooked this entire affair, let out a
shrill neigh that sounded for all the world like a laugh.
The day passed on to dusk, during which time that stallion mated with
the mare four more times. Each performance outshining the last in both
vigour and semen volume. Sam looked on forlornly. She wanted so badly
to share in the stallions lust but knew that his massive 32 inch penis
would kill her if she were so stupid as to try to have sex with it.
As night came, she went to bed. In a high state of arousal and
vexation. She began to drift off to sleep several times but could
not. Finally, in frustration, she put on a robe and walked to the barn
where the breeding dummy was kept. She looked at the device, used to
collect semen from the stallion for evaluations. She pictured in her
mind the many times that the stallion had mounted that dummy,
thrusting madly into an artificial vagina while she held it for him.
She walked over to the dummy and dropped a hand to her wet pussy,
kneading herself softly at first and then harder as she thought more
of the stallion. She dropped her robe to the floor and leaned over
the end of the dummy, imagining what it would be like to be able to
fuck with the stallion. She rubbed her pussy against the soft
material covering the dummy as she began to approach a climax.
Suddenly she felt a soft nuzzleing against her pussy.
In her excitement, she had not noticed that the stallion had gotten
out of his paddock and had followed her into the barn. Looking down
at him she could see his massive penis bobbing between his legs, jsut
like it always did when he was just about ready to mount the breeding
dummy. Suddenly she realized her danger, but it was too late, the
stallion jumped up and pinned her down against the breeding dummy. He
began to push and shove at her ass with his huge cock, trying
desperately to find the small opening to her pussy. Suddenly he found
it and thrust his mighty tool home. She let out a scream as the pain
washed over her, but the pain was drowned out by the intensity of the
orgasm that she felt ripping through her. She could not tell whether
it was the stallions penis that was tearing her in two or whether it
was the most intense orgasm she had ever had. But within a few
seconds the point was moot as she spiraled off into unconsciousness.
She awoke with a start to find the young driver standing over her
naked body.
"Where? Where am I? What happened? How am I still alive?"
"Huh? Oh hell! It must have worked then! Did you enjoy it?"
"What are you talking about? I get raped by a stallion and ....."
"Oh, donn't worry about that. It didn't happen. You see, after we
fucked this morning, I felt really bad about having come so quick.
So, I decided to try and make it up to you. You see, I'm majoring in
psychology at school and one of the things we learn to do is to use
hypnotism. It's really easy to hypnotise someone when they are almost
asleep. So I snuck in and made a few suggestions about not being able
to sleep and wanting to go down to the barn... And, well, you know the
rest. But the part I didn't expect is for you to pass out from that
orgasm. Apparently you seemed to enjoy it."
Samantha could only look at him and shake her head. Then she started
to laugh.
"You wanted to make up for it huh? Well, I'm still excited and
getting dicked by a stallion is a bit much, so how about crawling in
here with me and helping me find out if you really can or can't
outlast the stud. After all, this morning may have just been bad
timing."
Sam was happy to find out that not only could he outlast a stallion,
but he could come more times than the stallion too.
_____________________________________________________________________________
My most recent SO and I had been playing racquetball together for several
months. One day when we went to play, it was obvious that we were both
feeling a little "frisky". When we got to the court and I bent over to
touch my toes (stretching the backs of my legs) she placed a hand on my
tush (I've always thought that was nicer than saying "ass") and slid it
down to my balls.
"Did you remember to bring some fresh balls for us to play with
today?" she asked.
"Yes, but they're not *THERE*" I replied, as I stood up and kissed
her.
Then she turned around and bent over to touch her toes, ostensibly
to stretch her legs. I made sure to run a hand down over her tush and
lightly graze the little bulge her labia made between her legs.
She giggled and asked "Are you you warmed up enough to start
playing *RACQUETBALL* now?"
"Yes" I replied. "How many points do you want?"
"Better make it 5 again" she replied in a disgusted voice.
and we started in playing a game.
When we had taken up the sport, we found we had approximately the
same aptitude for it. This had been great. Neither one of us had
dominated the other, and we both got a good workout. Over the last couple
of weeks, however, it had become obvious that my skill at the game was
increasing faster than hers was. It wasn't that she wasn't improving, it
was just that I had hit that stage when several aspects of the game
suddenly come together. I knew that she would reach that stage in her own
way in her own time, but in the meantime, she was impatient.
"You're getting too good at this" she complained after missing a
particularly lucky corner shot of mine. "It's no fun to loose outright to
you and it's just not the same when I win if you've spotted me 5 points to
begin with. There's just not as much meaning or sense of victory."
"Do you want to quit?" I asked a little hesitantly.
"Well... not really. It just gets frustrating sometimes" she
replied. Then she got a devilish look on her face and came close and
reached down to stroke the front of my shorts. "You understand
frustration?" she taunted in a sultry voice, stopping just as I started to
get hard underneath her hand.
"Hmmm. Maybe we could add a little extra meaning to winning" I
said.
"How?" she said, the seduction gone from her voice.
"Well, how about a game of 'strip racquetball'?"
"Are you kidding? What if someone sees us?"
"Nobody's going to see us, there's only that little eye-slit in the
doorway. Besides, you saw how deserted this place was when we came in."
"We can't take off shoes or socks, this game would be impossible
without them." she said.
"Well, how about this: shoes and socks stay on, and don't count in
the clothing count."
"I don't know, how are we going to compensate for playing abilities?"
"Well, you've got four pieces of clothing to my three."
"Not good enough, Mister."
"Okay, how about this, you only take something off for every two
points I make instead of for every one, and I get to count my head band."
"Okay, but you still spot me 5 points and I get to serve first"
"Hey, this isn't a hand-out, it's supposed to be a challenge,
remember?"
"Okay then, we'll flip my locker key to see who serves."
"Hmmm.... I guess."
"Call it in the air, number side or logo side."
"Logo."
"You serve."
It definitely changed the nature of our game. I had not counted points well
enough to realize that I would have to score 12 points to get her naked,
while she would only have to score four points. When the thought hit me
after the first four points (2 mine, 2 hers) I complained.
"Hey, you were the one who suggested it, not me. We're not going
to change the rules in the middle of a game." she said.
I noticed however, that her nipples were very prominent under her
bra. I scored another point and she removed her bra and put it in the
corner.
"What? Not going to take off the shorts first?" I asked, a little
surprised at her giving up the bra so easily.
"You're complaining?" she retorted, shaking for me a little.
"No. Not at all."
"Then serve." she commanded. I stared for a moment at her
beautiful, glowing form and then turned around to serve. From then on I
was a basket case. She very quickly scored two more points and I was
completely naked on the court. I just couldn't concentrate on the game
with her bouncing around the court next to me. On top of it all, I was
getting a royal hard-on that wasn't helping either.
"Well, congratulations" I said. "How does it feel to win now?"
"Oh, no you don't. A game is 15 points" she replied.
"What?! You want me to finish the game like this?!"
"That's right, turkey. Now take your dick and get back there, it's
still my serve."
I did manage to get her undressed before she won the game, but she
was only naked for one point.
"I think I could get to like this game again." she said. "It's fun
watching you bounce and swing all over the court. Especially when you're
hard and try to do a power serve." With that she reached out with her
racket and lightly tapped my dick to one side and then the other.
"I can't say that I didn't enjoy watching you either" I
said, running my finger down the line of sweat that went from her
collarbone down between her breasts.
We wrapped our arms around each other and our warm, slippery bodies pressed
together as we shared a wonderfully delicious kiss.
"There's just one problem", I said, drawing back. "This place isn't
usually so deserted when we play."
"Mmmm. That's okay" she purred as she drew circles in my chest hair.
"You've given me and idea of something we can play for on a regular basis."
"What's that?" I asked
"Oh you'll find out next time" she taunted. Then her face changed
and she gave me that look that I love to see and said "Come on, let's get
back into our clothes and go get showered and get out of here."
"No argument from me" I replied as we gathered up our clothes and
equipment and headed for the locker rooms.
"Last one out of the shower has to wash the gym clothes!" she said
as she slipped in to the women's locker room.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Some people say "Tis better to have loved and lost, than never to have
loved at all." Whoever said that has never been through what I've been
through - and I'm not so sure they're right.
It's been over a year now, and I can't get her out of my thoughts. I
don't understand why she did what she did. Maybe before you get totally
confused, I should tell you my story so you'll understand the depth of
pain, uncertainty, and confusion I feel.
I should probably tell you a bit about myself - I've been a "computer
nerd" most of my life, and in high school I only had 2 dates. In
college, I decided to change my image a bit, and I was pretty successful.
I grew to weigh 200 pounds (muscle) traded my nerd-glasses for contacts,
and consulted a few friends on my wardrobe. Funny, but it didn't
change my "luck" with women as much as I thought it would. I'd found
out early it wasn't what's inside that first attracts a woman, it's
what they think they see on the outside. At least, that's what I
thought. But now that I was "attractive", I still wasn't meeting
anyone. Hmmm...
I always thought I was "husband material" - you know, successful,
intelligent, didn't drink, smoke, do drugs, and so on - but then again,
not having had the opportunity to be very social, what did I know?
One day, I was attending a company meeting at work, and across the room I locked
eyes with an angel. She was gorgeous! Blonde hair, bluegreen eyes,
and as much as I could see of her figure were all heavenly. I felt like
a lifetime of needs and desires had somehow swirled together and conjured
up this vision of loveliness. I forgot my shyness - I HAD to know who
she was, and get to know her.
Over the following weeks, I managed to "conveniently" run into her around
the office. It seemed she worked in a different department as a
secretary. Her name was Sharon, and she soon began to dominate my every
waking thought - not to mention my dreams! I was getting increasingly
frustrated, because I was so shy and keyed-up in person that all I could
stammer was a meek "hi" whenever I saw her. My big break came one Friday
afternoon, when I got an e-mail message from Sharon. Why hadn't I
thought of e-mail before?
Contrary to my real-life personality, on computers I'm powerful - a
king, a god maybe. There's nothing I can't do, given time, and no
problem I can't solve. When real life gets too tough, I can
always hide in the safety of the green glow of the terminal
screen. And when things are so bad that I'm afraid to sleep, that
green has been known to glow all night...
When Sharon wrote me the first letter, I had no trouble writing back
to her. Separated from her by hundreds of yards of wire, it was
very easy to talk, to tell her she was beautiful, to tell
her .... almost anything. I guess it was the same for her, too,
because within several messages we'd covered almost every topic -
especially sex! Boy, this woman had a *mind*, I tell you. I would ache
after reading one of her messages, and of course, I'd be unable to move
away from my desk for several minutes until the swelling went down!
When I told her that, she laughed, and said, enigmatically, "Good".
As the days went on, we got to know each other better over mail, and I
began to notice certain changes in me, in my perception of the world. My
terminal held less and less of a fascination for me - that was the major
change. I noticed I was looking outside more, admiring the beauty of the
flowers, trees, birds, the squirrels that came up to the window - and
then it hit me: I was in love. Head over heels, up to my neck, and all
those old cliches suddenly somehow seemed applicable, whereas before
they were corny. My heart DID sing, my eyes sparkled, there *was* a
spring in my step - and everyone noticed. I was madly in love - and I'd
never even had lunch with the woman. Well, I would change that!
In my next letter to her, I suggested lunch. She responded by suggesting
a picnic lunch at the nearby park, and said she'd take care of the food
and the driving. We met at her car the next day, and let me tell you, my
heart was pounding a mile a minute! She was sooooo beautiful! I was
frustrated, because now that I was with her, I saw I didn't have the
"guts" I had found so easily when writing over the terminal. Sharon
instantly picked up on my discomfort.
"Do I make you nervous?" she asked.
"Um, well, a little, I guess" I replied.
"Me too. I feel like I'm on my first date or something!" She laughed.
Her laughter and her confession made me feel more at ease. I was
determined that my shyness was *not* going to spoil our lunch! If I
behaved myself and played my cards right, I might even get a chance to
give her a kiss...
"Here we are!" She stopped the car and jumped out, and went to the trunk
to get out the food and a blanket. It was a nice park. Plenty of
trees, and gently rolling hills. And since it was in the middle of a
business complex, there weren't any noisy kids around to break the
silence. We found a nice spot near some trees, on the "down side"
of one of the hills, and I spread the blanket. Sharon took off her
shoes and threw herself down on her stomach, her legs moving slowly back
and forth in the air. The dress she had on was very flattering, and
I noticed the curves and swells of her body. Her dress had pulled up
slightly, and I could see the backs of her thighs gently flexing as
she kicked back and forth... God, she was so entrancing! I
reluctantly broke my gaze away from her, and sat down next to her on
the blanket. Then, realizing I should appear more relaxed, I lay back
and stared up at the sky.
"Nice day" she said. I turned to her and smiled.
"Yeah, I..." But I never finished. I had turned and was staring
straight into those hypnotically beautiful aquamarine eyes. They
came closer and closer, and suddenly her lips were pressed against mine
in a quick little kiss. She drew back and smiled, a beautiful smile,
and all I could do was stare in fascination. I couldn't move or speak.
I saw her come toward me again, and I briefly thought "am I supposed
to be closing my eyes?" when she kissed me again. Longer. She opened
her eyes and looked straight into mine.
"What are you doing?" she said laughing. "Come here, you..."
She moved over until she was laying partially on top of me, and suddenly
I could move again. I grabbed her and pulled her more on me, and brought
her head down to kiss me ... mmm - forever. She pulled away after a bit.
"There's a lot of passion locked up inside you", she said quietly
smiling. I just nodded, and pulled her to me again. She kissed me -
hard and long. She was warm, she was wet, she was wonderful. And every
so often I'd open my eyes and stare into hers, and melt. There was
nothing else on earth but Sharon and me, and our passion. Beyond her was
the sky with puffy white clouds, and it was easy to imagine nothing else
around us but white clouds. There was no sound above the wind through
the trees, except for our breathing which was growing heavier by the
minute. I felt her tongue lick my lips and run delicately along my
teeth, and I rather clumsily pushed my tongue out to touch hers. I
pulled her closer, and our kissing became so passionate and furious
that I felt the back of my head mashing the blanket into the grass below
us. This was truly Heaven on earth - I never wanted it to end.
But suddenly she stopped and pulled away from me, and lay on her back
next to me. There was a beautiful, contented/thoughtful half-smile
on her pretty lips. I took a second or two to catch my breath, but
I knew I couldn't let those lips go unkissed much longer. I rolled over
until I was partially on her, and gave her a long, slow gentle kiss.
She put one arm around my next and drew me to her for more kissing, and I
felt the other arm work its way to my chest, and slowly start to undo
the buttons on my shirt. Her cool hand went inside and massaged my back,
side, and chest. By this time, I don't need to tell you that I was
having a natural reacton (for the circumstances), and it was the biggest,
hardest reaction I'd ever had in my life! I had accepted it up until
this point, because I had been lying comfortably on my back, but now,
in this new position, I had one leg draped over hers, and my whole
lower body was pressed against one of her luscious thighs. I'd read
some erotic literature in the past, and I'd seen the (overused IMHO)
term "throbbing hard-on" before, but this was the first time I'd
experienced the "throbbing" part - and ooohhh, did it feel good!
The blood was pounding so hard down there, keeping time
with the quick beatings of my heart, and I thought, "surely she can
feel that!" As much as it went against my better judgement, I pulled
away from her leg in embarrassment.
"Oh, it's OK", she smiled as she pulled me back onto her. She must have
read my mind! "How does that feel? Does that feel gooood?" God, what a
voice! And what a ridiculously obvious question! Our lips locked in
another, mouth-watering kiss, and I pressed hard against her thigh. I
thought any second I would explode, covering the inside of my shorts
with hot stickiness.
Her hand, which was still massaging my chest, dropped down lower, past
my belt - and oh my god! Sharon was incredible. The touch of her
strong fingers stroking me through my pants, while her smooth
silk-stockinged thigh was pressing from the other side, was more than I
could stand. I cast all embarrassment aside, and furiously ground my
hips into her waiting hand, while kissing and tongueing her for all I
was worth.
"Mmmm..." What was that? Did that come from *my* throat? I stopped
kissing for just a second. Up until now, I'd been quiet except
for my heavy breathing. And the few times I'd made love in the past,
I'd been fairly quiet about it - I was way too self-conscious. Before
I had time to think much more, Sharon, smiling, pulled me back to kiss
her. There it was again, starting somewhere deep inside me, trying
to force its way out! I tried, but there was no way I could completely
stifle my moaning cries. I couldn't believe she could coax the sounds
out of me, but she did. At first they were small choking sounds,
whimpers of pleasure and passion - and then I was beyond caring. My
squirming body was now intertwined with hers, and my sounds of ecstacy
grew louder until Sharon stopped kissing and rubbing me, and put
two fingers to my lips.
"Sshhhh, lover...." she whispered as she looked around us to see if
anyone had heard. No one had, and with joint sighs of relief, we
lay there and held each other for a while, me still panting and gasping
for breath. Suddenly, Sharon pushed me off of her, got up, and brushed
herself off. She tugged at the blanket until I rolled off and stood
up (well, I did the best I could, anyway...)
"Come on", she said, and with the blanket in one hand and my arm in
the other, she led me away to who-knows-where. I was still dazed.
Where were we going? Why had she stopped? Why the hell couldn't I
walk? She practically dragged me down the side of one of the steeper
hills, and I almost fell. A light wind had sprung up, and it cleared
my head a little. What time was it, anyway? A glance at my watch
showed it had been TWO hours. Uh oh. No big deal for me, really,
I didn't have anything going on that afternoon at the office. But
Sharon was an hourly employee. What about her boss? Wouldn't he
wonder where she was? I knew one thing - we weren't heading back to
the car, that's for sure!
At the bottom of the hill, a small clump of trees came into view, and
it seemed to me like Sharon was heading for these. Yup. In we went.
In the middle of them all was a small clearing, just about blanket
size. Sharon gave a last look around, spread the blanket on the
ground, and pushed me back down on it. Her face was flushed, her
breathing was heavy - heavier than I would have thought from that
easy hillside descent. I started to ask her about work, but she
cut me off with a passionate kiss - and I forgot, well, I forgot
everything. Soon we were kissing and touching like before, but
this time I had the presence of mind to reciprocate.
I began lightly stroking her thigh, and gradually moved up under her
dress. Her stockings went all the way up to her waist, and I figured
it would be a bit forward of me to pull them down, so instead I moved
slowly inward. Before my fingers reached their destination, Sharon
arched and twisted her hips - and my fingers met the warm, wet stocking
material. Wow. It's one thing to get intense pleasure, but it was
a rush of a different sort to know you are *giving* it right back!
Soon, little moans and gasps were coming from her beautiful lips, and
I felt like it was time for her to lose those stockings, at least!
Evidently, she felt the same way - before my hand found the top of the
nylon/panty part and pulled them down, her hands were already at my
belt. I could only imagine the feeling I was about to experience.
No I couldn't! Not even my imagination prepared me for the incredible
sensation that went through me. For a second I couldn't see or hear
anything - my entire attention was focused on the FEELING of her
loving hands, gently caressing. Then my whole body shook as waves of
pleasure crashed over me, and I crushed her to me as though she
couldn't get close enough. I felt her hands guide me inside her, and
I felt warm wetness as I slowly slid in all the way.
At this point, words fail me. I can barely keep my fingers from
termbling as I type this. I remember never having felt so excited,
loved, aroused, and happy all at once. I remember I was supporting
myself slightly with my arms, as I pushed back and forth - and I
remember my left hand was digging into the grass and brown earth in
my uncontrollable passion.
There was no way I could keep from coming - a million "old tricks"
flashed through my mind, but I was so caught up in the moment, the touch
of her hands moving up and down my back and sides, her warm eager mouth
exploring mine, and oh god, the feeling of her muscles contracting
around me, that I couldn't have used any of those tricks to save my life.
And then..
Voices! People were walking this way! Sharon and I both heard them
at the same time, and we froze, not even daring to breath. If I hadn't
been so scared of being discovered, it would have been funny. A guy and
his girlfriend were walking, hand in hand, right towards us! I just knew
they were going to come in and see us. They came within a few yards of
the trees, and then I heard the girl say "that area looks better" - and
they turned and headed off to the left.
Sharon and I looked at each other and burst out laughing. I laughed
until I cried, and then I stopped as Sharon began kissing and licking
the tears away. I was still quite hard inside her, and I started
responding to her kisses by gently moving and rotating my hips. She
gasped and smiled at me, and then kissed me harder. She tried to bring
her knees up along side of me, but her stockings weren't all the way off
and she couldn't - in fact, the top of the stockings seemed to
be caught on something. Or rather, *two* somethings...! Now, every time
I started to slide back out, her stockings caught me right up underneath
and kept me from pulling out too far! God, that felt good! We both
realized what was happening, and with a slight sensually nasty smile,
she raised her knees even farther until I could barely move. The
feeling was indescribable. I went crazy on her. No longer supporting
myself, I reached around her with my arms and held her tight. She
dug her fingers into my back and pushed herself up, pressing against
me. That was all I could take, and I exploded inside her for what
seemed life forever.
Even after I caught my breath, I could still feel myself pumping away
inside her, contracting and shooting the warm liquid brought up by the
fury of our passion. I looked up at Sharon, and she was smiling at me -
a very satisfied, fulfilled, womanly smile. I kissed her.
Back in the car, my mind was going a mile a minute. This weekend, I'd
go check out jewelry stores, and see what diamonds would cost me. A
woman like that deserves the best, and I'd use my whole savings if need
be. I was NOT going to let this one get away! I turned to watch her
beautiful face as she drove. She saw me out of the corner of her
eyes, and smiled, and took my hand...
* * * * * * * *
I remember I went cold the following Monday, when I heard Sharon had
been fired Friday for her extended lunch. When I heard that her
husband had phoned her boss to complain about it, my coldness turned
to ice. Why hadn't she told me? How could she have done what she
did to me? What was so wrong with me, that someone could think they
could do something like that and have everything be OK? That really said
a lot about my worth as a human being. I tried to take a leave of
absence from work, but the inactivity made me think of her all the more
so I quickly went back. I'd never hurt so much in all my life.
That was just over a year go. I saw Sharon the other day - she was
driving the opposite way, and didn't see me. It prompted me to write
this, and it also reminded me once again that the green glow of the
terminal screen was, and always will be, my best friend.
Well, it's 3:44 a.m., I might as well try and get some sleep. I won't
be writing as I crawl into bed and pull up the covers, but I can tell
you what it'll be like. It hasn't changed for about a year now. I
reach back and flip the switch off, and listen to the drives grind
quickly to a halt. I turn out the lights, and climb into bed. The
green phosphorescence of the screen still glows like a friendly face
in a dark world of uncertainty, deceit, and confusion. A watery film
begins to cover my eyes, so I can no longer see the screen as the green
slowly fades into black.
}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{
The Surrender of Sara
Part One
It was with great anticipation that I packed my luggage for
the trip to California where I was going to attend a work related
school in the San Francisco Bay area. While I was intrested
in the school, I was really looking forward to seeing Alan and
Sara again.
Alan had just married Sara a few months before Charlotte and I moved
to the Pacific Northwest and we didn't get much of a chance to
get to know her until they visited last year. The four of us went
out for an evening of dinner and the hot tubs to get to know
each other again after being apart for a year. While not planning
anything, but knowing Alan better than that, Charlotte and I had
discussed if we wanted to get together again with Alan as we
had many times over the last ten years. The unsure factor was
Sara, a young wife of nineteen, whom we did not want to scare
away as a friend. Alan had assured us, over the last two years,
that Sara was mature beyond her 19 years and we were soon to find
out how mature.
"Would you like to fuck Sara tonight?", Alan had asked as we
sat in the sauna. Typical Alan, all the tact of a sledgehammer.
What could I say? How could I have tha pleasure of staring
at Sara's luchous firm body for an hour and not say yes?
It was gratifying to see Charlotte with Alan again and Sara was
not, if I may understate, dissapointing. We got together twice
in the week they were visiting and Charlotte and I missed them
greatly after they left.
"Have you forgotten anything", Charlotte asked," your books,
briefcase, note from your wife?" While she could not go
along with me, Charlotte had quickly given her approval of
my desire to be with our friends again.
"Presents for mommy", I said as I dodged out of the way
of a careening little baby Nikki to give Sara the flowers I
brought her and share a hug I had been thinking about all day.
Sara's musky scent swept over me again. I could've stood there all
afternoon taking in her scent, getting dizzy as I breathed gently,
my face nuzzled in her hair. It was a good hello and we started
preparing dinner and doing small talk until Alan got home from
work. The air had a tense quality as we made busy in the kitchen
with dinner. I kept admiring her full rounded figure and remembering
what she was like to hold her as she came. So quiet, barely
purring like a kitten, so unlike my Charlotte. I sat quietly thinking
of the contrasts between her and Charlotte until Alan arrived and,
after the hugs and hellos, sat down to dinner to discuss the
nights plans.
We decided to go out to my hotel "for some coffee and dessert"
and breakfast in the morning. Nothing more was said. Sara
seemed to take great pleasure in showing me a pink cotton,
backless, sideless mini-dress before we left and asking,
"Would this be alright?" Silly question. I made it abundantly
clear how cruel it would have been not to wear it for me.
I snapped the open back of her dress apart as we sat on the bed
in the hotel waiting for Alan to get out of the shower. Gently
I scraped my nails along tanned smooth shoulderblades as a
farmilar purr filled the air. Lightly tracing the goosebumps my
attentions were producing, I followed every muscle and ripple
along her back as she shuddered quietly. Placing my lips against
her shoulder I quietly inhaled her scent and remembered how exiting
it was to hold and touch this young woman.
Alan entered the room as I continued to trace the curves of Sara's
neck and shoulders with the lightest of touch. Quietly he sat
and took in the view of a mesmerized Sara, swaying to my feather
light touch, purring quietly and shuddering with exitement.
Slowly I pulled the top of her dress down to release her large,
firm breasts and lightly draw my fingertips along her ribs below
them. Sara's back arched, begging me to touch her, as my hands
teased their way towards her breasts. In one smooth motion I
grasped both her breasts firmly as I bit her rather firmly
on the right shoulder. My motions were firm yet gentle, but
quietly whispering promises of things to come.
Sara moaned as I continued to nip at her neck and shoulder and
firmly knead her large breasts and hardening nippls. Occasionally
I would draw my fingernails, just trimmed but not filed and very
sharp, across her breasts and nipples. The sharp edges of my nails
cause her to jump and twitch suddenly as I left light red tracings
across her breasts. Sara sat immoble, head thrown back, eyes closed,
and swaying gently as my hands explored her and my bites and nips
brought her back to alertness every few seconds.
Alan had allowed me the luxury of Sara for long enough and started
to stroke her hair and other shoulder as my left hand reached up
to grasp a handfull of her hair. Pulling Sara's head back I kissed
her for the first time as Alan's hands roamed over her breasts.
Fully and deeply we kissed as I slowly forced my attentions, my
hands roaming over her breasts and tummy, causing her to shiver and
tremble in my strong and firm grasp.
Tightening my grasp on her hair I pulled Sara down to the bed
while pinning her down with one hand on her breast. My hands
traced over her face. Lightly following the lines of her
cheekbones and lips, my hands flowed down her chest to her tummy.
Her tummy shuddered at my light, almost tickeling, touch as I
moved to the foot of the bed to remove her dress. Slowly, her
eyes still closed, Sara wiggled and raised her hips off the bed
as Alan directed his attentions to her hard nipples. Her dress
and white string panties were slowly peeled off her tanned body
while Alan continued to suck and bite her stiff, sensitive nipples.
As her dress came off I could catch Sara's musky scent and,
without delay, grasped her legs firmly and spread them apart.
Holding Sara as I would a captive I plunged my face into her
warm, and musky cunt. Sara's moan of pleasure and release sang
in my ears as I began to explore this young woman as I had not before.
The scent I always caught near her neck and shoulders intocxicated
me as my hands slid down to cup the smooth, round cheeks of her
young ass and draw her closer to my active flicking tounge and her
own orgasm. Though Sara is usually quiet, her moans grew louder
with every moment as I continued to push her on to orgasm with
my tounge and hands. As I felt her legs and ass cheeks tense
under my attentions, Sara came in a wave of shudders and husky
purring as I held her tightly, a prisoner to my desires.
She had been nude but five minutes and her night had just begun.
Slowly I stepped away as her shaking subsided and let her
rest as I removed my clothes. Undressing slowly, I watched
her shudder every few seconds as she came back to Earth, I felt
a sense of power in taking Sara so quickly. Slowly her eyes
opened and sleeply gazed at me through her lashes as I finished
removing my clothes. Alan watched intently as Sara slowly rose
to one elbow to gently grasp my hardening cock and smile up at me
as I stood next to her near the bedside.
Slowly Sara engulfed my cock with her soft mouth as her hand
cupped and caressed by balls. With a gentle, yet insistent,
rythym Sara continued to suck and lick my cock as it grew to
fill her mouth. My hands weaved through her hair as I slowly
started to slide her head down and my cock deeper into her
throat. Sara moaned as my cock slid deeper, responding to my
strong and sure touch, her chin coming to rest against her hand
as she cradled and massaged my balls.
All the while Alan had been caressing her breasts again and
wandering down to the nest of sandy colored hair between her
legs with his hands. As Sara squirmed under Alan's hands and
as I slowly fucked her mouth she became more exited and hot.
My cock would slide deep into her mouth as she built up a rythym
with Alan's hand working smoothly across her hot wet cunt. Her
other hand had wandered over to Alan's growing cock as I eased
her down on the bed and lowered my cock back into her mouth.
She was so beautiful, so sexy, as her lips slid back and forth
along me, her hips squirming under Alan's hand, and her own hand
caressing Alan's uncut cock. Sliding the foreskin back and forth
she slowly got Alan finally as worked up as we had become.
Sara was obviously enjoying herself immensely but I had other
things in mind as I reluctantly withdrew my cock from her
warm and willing mouth. Her eyes never left mine as I positioned
myself to enter her. Guiding me between the folds of her cunt
with her hand I slowly, oh so slowly, entered Sara. Rocking my
hips with hers, we slowly moved closer until our pubic bones ground
against one another. Gently, but with increasing force and power
I began to move inside Sara. My strokes becoming longer and deeper
with each thrust into her tight bucking cunt. Alan brought his cock
up to Sara's mouth, for the first time of her life she was to be
filled with two cocks, she took Alan gladly as I continued to
increase my force and pressure into her.
My mouth roamed over her breasts, kissing and biting her hardening
nipples as Alan enjoyed her active mouth and wandering tounge as
I had earlier. As Alan began to moan I decided to begin teasing
Sara with my cock as, surprisingly for me, I had not come yet and
was not ready to. I would withdraw until I was touching her with
nothing except the tip of my cock and, after sliding up against
her hard clit to excite her more, would plunge back inside her
cunt. With every stroke Sara would attack Alan's cock with her
mouth, sucking and sliding her head back and forth, trying to make
him come.
The attentions being lavished on Sara's young willing cunt had
brought her to a few orgasms already and Alan was encouraging
me to get up. He wanted to have his wife, and who was I to
deny him. Besides, my thoughts were turning back to her
wonderful cocksucking and williness to please. I was wondering
just how willing she was as I slowly pulled out to be replaced
by Alan. Sara did not skip a beat as my cock, still very wet
from pounding her cunt, slid deep into her waiting mouth.
Greedly she sucked and drove my cock deeper into her mouth
with her hands cupping my ass cheeks. Turnabouts fair play
I thought as she would not let me back out an inch, her
tounge streched along the entire length of my cock, buried
in her mouth.
Sensing that my legs were tiring from holding myself over her,
but not knowing I would endure cramps from hell rather than
move an inch and give up the attention I was recieving, Sara
pulled her head back and pulled me down to the bed. Leaning
against the headboard, while she moved onto her knees so Alan
could enter her from the rear, I relaxed and fell into the
sensation of her mouth sliding up and down along my cock.
Slowly and gently my hands played through her sandy colored hair
as Alan continued pound into her willing cunt. She came twice
more as she drove me towards my own orgasm with her hard
and deep sucking. My cock swelled in the back of her throat
as Sara came again under Alan's relentless pounding and she
drove her face against my stomach and buried my cock deep
against the back of her throat. "Easy babe", I whispered
to her as I felt the tension of my orgasm building. Without
hesitation she withdrew her mouth from my cock and, after smiling
wickedly, slowly drove her mouth back down to engulf me again.
Knowing she wanted me to come I relaxed against the headboard,
my eyes closed, head thrown back, with the fingers of each
hand weaving through Sara's hair as she slowly drove me
farther and farther, with each stroke of her lips along my
cock, towards orgasm. As Sara came once again I joined her
in a dizzy delierum, my legs tensed and grasping her ribs,
my cock throbbing as my come filled her mouth and I felt her
bury her head farther down and swallow and moan until I could
take no more, let go of her hair and surrenderred to the
dizziness and collapsed back against the headboard, my legs feeling
like jelly and my breath coming short and fast.
Resting her head against my thigh, Sara lay with my cock still
buried against the back of her throat. Every so often she would
swallow and drive me off the bed with sensation. Slowly my eyes
opened and I slid down, under her as Alan continued to drive
her to another orgasm. Gently I raised her lips to mine and
kissed her deeply. "Thank you Sara", I whispered to her as she
started to moan again, ready to give herself up to another orgasm
from Alan's steady fucking. "Thank *you* ", she smiled as her
eyes closed in pleasure from Alan's smooth, fast fucking.
Sara collapsed onto my chest and I held her tight as Alan,
kneeling behind her, both hands grasping her hips, started
to show signs of finally coming. His tempo quickened as
Sara hugged me tightly and explored my mouth with her tounge.
Her breath quickened as her mouth never left mine. I held
her tightly, raking my nails across her back, one hand pinning
her heaving breasts against my chest and returning her impassioned
kisses as Alan came.
Groaning loudly he pounded Sara into me and drove both of us
into the bed together with the force of his orgasm. Sara
shook and shuddered in my arns as her orgasm matched her husband's.
As Alan slowed, in breathing and thrusting, we all settled
together onto the bed and lay there holding each other close
in exaustion. Sara would purr occationally, egging both Alan
and I on for more.
Shifted around a bit we lay there together. Alan lay at the head
of the bed with Sara laying across the foot, and I lay with my
head in Sara's lap. My feet on the pillow hear the headboard
and Sara gently stroking my hair in the afterglow of our session
together.
"Were Alan and I too rough with you?" I asked, looking up into
her eyes. "No you weren't", she answered as I saw her flush and
her eyes widen in anticipation. Alan had told me what Sara's likes
and dislikes were and I was about to take severe advantage of one
of them. "Good. Then Sara, think of a word. One you wouldn't
say normally and tell me what it is. It will be your escape
word and I will honor it." I said as she stared into my eyes
intently. She nodded and said the word I wasn't to hear for
the rest of the evening. Now some of the roughness and power
I had only hinted at during the night started to come into play.
"Do you trust me Sara?"
"I, I do...", she said.
Part Two
While resting after the first two hours Alan and I had spent
with Sara I decided to see what her limits were. Though we
had made love a few times before, Alan wanted to see how
Sara reacted to power games. She had always likes a little
hard scratching, spanking, and rough sex but, he wanted to
find what her limits were. Knowing that Charlotte and I
practice Dominant/Submissive games he enlisted my help in
helping Sara through an experience she would not soon forget.
Sara said she trusted me and, after having her choose an escape
word and telling her she would be *mine* to do with as *I*
wished, said she was ready.
My demeanor changed as I took the wineglass from her hand and
slowly looked over the body that was to be mine for the next
few hours. My grasp became strong and sure as I stroked her hair,
weaving it through my fingers and tightening it until her
eyes closed in pleasure. Sara responded as a willing object
of my desire, not some make believe, naughty slave begging
to do wrong and be punished.
Alan was looking around for some sort of blindfold for her as
I came up with a pillowcase and, after folding it and placing
it over the eyes of the motionless Sara, we stepped away to
appreciate the view it offered. "Don't even move. Not a bit",
I hissed through my teeth as I held her head by her full hair.
Sara sat on the edge of the bed, knees together, hands in her
lap, head erect and breasts jutting out full and firm. I ran
my hand around one for a last gentle touch before Alan and I
stepped away to leave her wondering just what she had agreed to.
Alan and I stood there at the other end of the hotel room quietly
watching Sara sit there, head cocked slightly, listening intently
trying to find where we were.
"I know we've been rough with her Alan, and she enjoys it but,
let me have her and we will see how far she can go tonight. I
wont hurt her, and she won't forget it I promise you."
Alan whispered back that she was mine and he would follow my lead
as he asked that we at least have her experience a particular
interest of his. I agreed and quietly moved toward her, sitting
silent on the bed, breasts rising and falling with the steady
rhythm of her breathing.
Lightly my right hand barely touched her hair as she sensed I
had returned. Suddenly, in one smooth motion I brought her head
down to my hard cock, muffeling the gasp that escaped her as my
hand tightened on her hair, filling her mouth completely. Slowly
I let her up for air and another gasp of surprise and pleasure
was muffled again as I brought her mouth back down to serve me
again. My other hand kneaded and scratched at her breasts again
as Sara began to squirm on the bed, surely wetting the sheet where
she sat in her excitement. Sara started to respond by starting to
swallow me deeper and deeper as I continued to fuck her mouth as
I had her cunt earlier. She would swallow me completely, her hands
pulling me closer with every thrust into her warm throat.
Sara was trying to make me come again, and I would gladly have
obliged, but I had other plans.
Pulling her mouth off my cock I literally threw her onto the bed
by her hair. She lay there, breathing heavely, hands running up
and down her body, an expression of dissappointment and frustration
on her beautiful face.
I reached down and grasped her ankles and, lifting them high,
rolled her over onto her side facing the side of the bed. Her
head was at the foot of the bed, her body twisted at the waist,
her round firm ass jutting into the air where I wanted it.
Alan wasted no time in going to the foot of the bed and sliding
his own cock into Sara's willing mouth while I spread her legs
and positioned the head of my hard cock against her cunt.
I slowly slid my cock back and forth along her cunt, sliding
along her clit to get her warmed up. Her legs started opening up,
inviting me in as her ass pushed higher in the air.
Alan was enjoying Sara's attentions on his hard cock as, in
response to a gesture from him, my hand fell across her round
buttocks. Sara squealed through her nose as my hand fell again
and again in response to Alan's encouragement and Sara's reaction
to the warmth building in her ass and I slid my cock into her
cunt in one smooth motion. Scratching her back, from nape of neck
to her rosy ass, I slid my cock deeper and deeper into her.
Grasping her ass cheeks and digging my nails I drove my cock in
and out of her willing cunt, every stroke bringing moans from her
writhing body.
I continued to slide in and out of Sara with smooth long strokes,
pulling her onto my cock by her hips and driving her to orgasm.
She came again as I started to pound her into the mattress and
she tried to get Alan to come with her wonderful sucking. I could
hear the mixture of her purring and slurping as she swallowed
all she could get from Alan. But Alan wasn't ready yet and, to
Sara's obvious dissappointment, pulled away as I continued to
bring her to another orgasm. Sara shuddered and clawed at
the covers as Alan slowly slipped a lubed finger into her ass
as I continued to take her.
As Alan finished driving Sara wild with his fingers I pulled out
of her cunt and slid the head along her perenium, spread her
ass farther apart, and brought the head of my cock against her
spasming ass as Alan with drew his fingers. Sara froze as
the head of my cock barely brushed against her ass. Slowly, and
very carefully, I *pulled* Sara back against my cock. I heard her
suck a breath through her clenched teeth as her ass gave way to
the pressure and I slid in past the first ring of muscle.
Letting Sara gather what wits she had left I kneaded her ass
and waited to see is she was ready for more. She started to relax
more as I began to feel her push back against me and I started
to slide past the inner ring of muscle. Sara let out an animal
moan as my cock slowly drove deeper into her tight ass, her cheeks
coming to rest against my legs and my balls nestled against her
cunt.
I started to slowly drive in and out of her ass as her moans
grew louder and my own orgasm began to build deep inside me.
God, but she was wonderful! As our tempo increased and I started
to drive faster and deeper into her young ass. Soon I was pulling
completely out and driving myself back into her, my hands pulling
her onto my cock as the pressure to come became unbearable.
Sara started moaning loudly to match my own growls and started to
shake and claw at the bed again as I slammed my cock into her ass.
Pulling her tightly against me, driving myself deep inside her,
I drove Sara to orgasm as my cock throbbed and emptied my heat
into her.
Slowly my head cleared and, looking down on her blindfolded face,
glistening with sweat and plastered with her hair, slid my cock
out of her and rose. She lay there, unable to move at all as
Alan positioned himself in my place and entered her cunt as I
staggered into the bath. I could hear Sara's moans start again
as I ran some warm water and washed myself. Returning to
the room, I found Sara on her back with Alan moving over her,
his eyes closed and moving his hips smoothly back and forth,
sliding his cock in and out of her again.
Sara was obvoiusly enjoying herself as Alan continued to fuck her
with the steady smooth strokes that he practiced so well. I moved
toward her head again and wove my fingers through her head of sandy
colored hair. Drawing her hair tightly I lightly drew my cock across
her mouth, letting her know what I wanted again. Sara's mouth opened
as I slid my slightly hard cock deep as it would fit into her young
mouth. Her lips felt wonderful as Alan continued to fuck her and
my legs started to feel weak from standing over her. Alan's fucking
was having an effect on his wife as she became more exited. Her
moans were only muffled as she alternated between sucking my cock
greedely and nuzzling and licking my balls.
Sara continued to suck my cock as Alan's steady strokes into her
cunt drove her to another orgasm. I withdrew my cock from her mouth
again and, kneeling at the foot of the bed, I grasped her wrists
tightly. Pulling her arms over her head and causing her breasts
to jutt out I held her down on the bed as Alan fucked her harder
and harder. Her breasts swayed with the rhythm of Alan's hard
strokes into her body as Sara was driven again closer and closer
to another orgasm.
Her body started to shudder as my hands tightened on her wrists
and Alan lowered his mouth to her breasts to bite on her nipples.
I heard Alan's breath quicken as his teeth clamped down on Sara's
nipple and she joined him in coming with her usual strong shudders
and throaty moans. As their shaking subsided I released her wrists,
noting the marks my grasp left there, and slowly removed her
makeshift blindfold.
I helped her sit up as Alan rose from her sweat covered body and
poured us all a glass of fresh wine. We sat together for a while
and, noticing the time, decided to turn in for the night. We had
been going since nine o-clock and it was not almost two in the
morning. We laid back on the bed together, Sara between Alan and
I. I felt tired but still desired Sara as I started to fall off
to sleep. Sara had come quite a few times tonight and I figured
she could use a rest so I relaxed, laid back and prepared to get
some rest.
Rolling her body towards me, and pressing herself along the length
of my body, Sara started kissisng me tenderly. I lay there as
she continued to coax me back awake with her gentle hands and
soft kisses upon my face and neck. My cock started to grow again
as her hands roamed over my back, scratching lightly with her nails.
I felt Alan get out of bed as Sara opened her legs slightly and let
my cock slip between them to rub against the lips of her cunt.
Soon I was a hard as ever and starting to enter her again. Her
soft lips parted to allow me inside as I felt the bed rock as
Alan returned. I knew what he had in mind as I felt his hands
lightly brushing my cock and balls as I started bury myself deep
in his wife. Our bodies were pressed together from lips to toes
as I slowly started a gentle motion inside Sara's body. We kissed
continously, our arms wrapped around each others bodies as we
met at each stroke of my cock into her cunt.
I felt Alan lay behind his wife and his hands spread her ass cheeks
apart. Sara and I stopped out rhythm for a moment as her ass was
slowly filled by her husbands cock. I felt her slowly move down,
burying my own cock deeper inside her, as Alan filled her ass.
We all lay quietly together, our arms intertwined as Sara became
used to this new sensation. I felt her body slowly relax as
she lay in my arms as Alan slowly started to slide his cock
back and forth, rubbing against mine, buried motionless in her
cunt. Firmly, I reached up and grasped her shoulders and pulled
Sara down onto our cocks as I started to match Alan's rhythm.
Soon we were moving in perfect harmony. My cock would slide into
Sara just as Alan would fill her from the rear again. Our bodies
all clung together, our sweat beading in the warm room. Sara
moaning softly as Alan and I continued to pull her down, filling
her as she never had experienced. I felt her cunt become even
tighter as her orgasm neared and my own cock was grasped and
pulled as she started to come. I buried myself deeper into her,
letting Alan do all the work. I could feel his cock rub mine,
through Sara's body, from root to head. Alan's breathing grew
stronger as Sara started to come and my own cock emptied itself
into her body for the third time that night.
I held Sara tightly as Alan contined to bury his cock into her
and she came, shaking voilently, my cock still deep in her cunt.
We lay toghther a while, holding each other tight as our breathing
slowed and the room became cool from the sweat on out bodies.
Our bodies finally seperated as Alan withdrew from his wife first.
I wanted to stay inside her longer. I had enjoyed her so much
this night and didn't want it to end. Remembering that Alan did
not come yet and with him now caressing Sara, I slowly slid out,
pulling my still hard cock across her clit and smiling at seeing
her jerk in reaction.
I rose to get a sip of wine and, upon returning from the bathroom,
found Alan fucking her again. I laid upon the bed and sipped wine
as he slowly drove her to another orgasm and had his third that night.
As they seperated Sara kissed us both goodnight and we lay down
beside each other. Slowly I drifted off to sleep, knowing the
scant two hours sleep I was to get before my class the next day
was well worth the time I had just spent with my friends.
*****************************************************************************
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A BIRTHDAY PRESENT
BY OMNI GIRL
He was young - only 17. He'd been my waiter at lunch, at the
busy restaurant in the museum I'd been wandering through. He had
the look of an artist, or a musician. Tall (over six feet) and
very slim - almost skinny, in fact - with long black hair combed
straight back from his forehead and falling over his collar in
back. During the course of the meal, I discovered that it was his
birthday - and that he was very attracted to me. The first piece
of information came tumbling out of him in conversation. The
second was in his eyes.
As luck would have it, I was his last table of the day. I
wonder how I would have arranged it, otherwise. All I know is that
I would have thought of something. I left the restaurant and
walked back to a display from which I could watch the entrance.
He would have to walk by me to leave the museum. When he did, I
timed my stroll to "coincidentally" cross his path.
He looked at me in pleased surprise.
"Oh, hello, John," I said. "Going off to celebrate your
birthday, I guess. What's on the agenda for tonight?"
"Nothing, I'm afraid," he answered. "I just moved to New York
and I have no friends here to speak of. I'll probably have dinner
somewhere and spend the evening at home."
"That's terrible!" I said, blessing my guardian angel. "I
don't think anyone should be alone on their birthday! Oh, by the
way, my name's Michelle."
It only took a few minutes. I was easy to manipulate the
conversation, first to things he might do, then to movies he liked,
and finally to a movie we were both interested in. Before he knew
it, he was going to meet me at a theater near my apartment.
At the theater, he was warm and bubbling with energy. At 32,
I was almost twice his age - but it didn't seem to matter to him.
Of course, I like to think that I don't look my age at all (maybe
25, at the outside!) but it was still wonderful to see that he paid
no attention to it at all.
We made a striking couple. He had changed into the regulation
downtown uniform of black pants with a big, full-cut black shirt
and black boots. I wore a black leather mini and an off-the-
shoulder black mohair sweater. With my heels, I was almost on a
par with his 6'5" height. We were the center of attention in the
waiting line.
I hardly remember the movie. What I remember is him buying
me popcorn and keeping up a steady stream of chatter as we waited
for the show to start. Then, in the dark, that electrifying
instant when his arm brushed my thigh, and all of a sudden
everything changed.
The air was charged with sexuality. I could FEEL him in the
dark - feel his attention on me. His arm, on the armrest against
mine, seemed to reach out for me. I let my legs lean to the left,
toward him, and felt his knee brush mine as he changed position.
He stayed there, not moving his leg, for the longest time - and I
loved it!
We left the movie in a different mood than we had been in
earlier. There was a charge to the air, an expectation, that
hadn't been there before. I invited him back to my apartment and
cooked him a quick pasta primavera for his birthday. After dinner,
we sat together on the couch and drank our coffee. I could feel
that he wanted to make some kind of a move - but he was too
inexperienced and nervous to figure out what to do.
I excused myself to go to the bathroom. While in there, I
freshened my makeup and fixed my hair. I knew exactly what I
wanted to do - and I was surprised to find my heart pounding like
a schoolgirl's as I returned to the living room.
"I have a birthday present for you, John," I said, as I
entered the room.
"Oh, no, Michelle, I couldn't accept anything from you!
You've been so nice already - it's too much!"
"I think you'll find this is perfect - at least I hope so!"
I said, as I walked over to the couch. Kneeling down in front of
him, between his long, sprawled-out legs, I began to unbuckle his
belt.
His eyes were wide in surprise. I could tell that he couldn't
believe what was happening. In a moment, his pants were unzipped
and I was tugging them down from his waist. He woke up enough,
then, to raise his hips, and I hooked my index fingers in the
waistband of his briefs and pulled everything down at once.
I had known, from little glimpses I'd caught of his crotch
during the day together, that he was far from small - but my heart
was in my throat as his lowered briefs exposed the cock beneath
them. It was magnificent! Over eight inches long, and really
thick, it was like nothing I had ever had before! It sprang free
of it's confinement and stood up like an arrow, pointing toward his
chin.
I desperately wanted it - but I took the extra moment, teasing
both myself and him, to remove his shoes, socks, pants and
underpants. Then I had him in front of me, naked from the waist
down. The butterflies I had in my stomach earlier had travelled
south and become a charge of sexual excitement in my lower abdomen
and my pussy. The skirt was so tight that I couldn't even get my
hand under there - so I had to just kneel there and squeeze my
thighs together as tightly as I could, savoring the rush of
pleasure it brought.
Then I reached out, circled his beautiful cock with my right
hand and drew it toward me. Sitting back on my heels, I looked up
into his eyes and lowered my head to place a kiss on the swelling,
red head. While my lips were still pressed against him, I opened
them and stuck just the tip of my tongue out, to lick him from just
below the head up to the opening in the center. I felt the little
jerk as his partially-erect cock jumped with pleasure.
I continued to tease both of us, by licking back and forth
like that. I felt his cock GROWING - getting even longer and
thicker as I played with him, and becoming steel-hard underneath
that silky-soft skin. I began to lick around the head in a
circular motion, my tongue giving special attention to that little
flap of skin under the front of the head. Each time the tip passed
over that little, secret place, his cock jumped in excitement.
Drawing my head back so that I could see all of his beautiful
prick, I took it in both hands at once. I stroked him for a
moment, and looked up to see his eyes riveted on my hands, watching
them pulling the skin up and back - the right one (on top)
occasionally rubbing over the head.
"Your hands are so beautiful," he said. "They look so sexy
wrapped around my cock!"
When he said "cock", it was like the word went THROUGH me -
just the sound of it sent shivers through my body. I smiled up at
him, looking straight into his eyes.
"If you think my HANDS look good wrapped around your cock,"
I said, "wait'll you see what my LIPS look like!"
I continued to look straight into his eyes, and bent forward.
Holding him in my right hand, and gently cupping his balls in my
left, I opened my mouth and took his cock as deep into my mouth as
I could.
He really filled my mouth up! I mean, he was no Johnny Wadd -
no 14 inches - but I'VE never seen anything bigger, and that drove
me wild! As I slid my mouth up and down his big prick, I couldn't
really suck him the way I would anyone else. For one thing, I
couldn't get more than about three-quarters of him in! It wasn't
so much the length as it was the size of the head - it was so big
around that it was difficult to get it very far back in my mouth!
And my jaw began to ache almost immediately, from having to keep
my mouth so far open.
I looked up at him frequently, from my vantage point between
his legs. His eyes almost never left me, which was wonderful!
Most men close their eyes for as much as half of a blowjob - and
I like to see them looking at me. I like it when they comment on
how it turns them on to watch. And he did that! It was obvious
that he'd been given head a few times before, but not in the way
I was doing it to him now.
To give my jaws a rest, I reluctantly drew my head back up off
his cock and began to kiss and lick him in a trail down the front.
When I got to his balls, I carefully took one of them in my mouth
and rolled it around gently with my tongue while I continued to
stroke him with my right hand. That really set him off - he began
to moan and to thrust hard with his hips, fucking my hand hard.
So I took the other ball in too, and got a grip on his cock with
BOTH hands and started to really stroke hard. His movements got
more and more wild - then suddenly I heard him mumble almost
unintelligably "Just a little bit more" and I knew I was too close
to the end! So I just stopped.
He was in agony! I didn't intend to stop permanently - just
long enough to allow him to get his breath back. I just didn't
want the experience of sucking him to end so quickly, that's all.
I finally got him to understand that, and he relaxed a little bit.
Now, I was sure that the only oral sex he'd had was with relatively
inexperienced girls in high school (and I later found out I was
right).
Once he realized that there was no hurry, as far as I was
concerned, and that I really LOVED what I was doing - and that all
we had to do to make the pleasure last was to bring him up to the
edge and then rest for a moment - he was happy to go on letting me
eat him for about forty minutes or so. I revelled in it. I had
such a young, hard, BIG cock to play with that I didn't want
anything else. I knew I'd be taken care of later, so I just gave
myself over to sucking him.
At one point, after sucking his balls again, I put my head
down deep between his legs and began to lick his asshole. As I
held his balls out of the way with my left hand, rolling them
around in the sack, and jerked his big prick with my right, I ran
my tongue around and over his puckered ass - and finally stiffened
it as much as I could and pushed it a little ways in. That drove
him nuts! At first he tried to get me to stop (probably shocked
that someone would want to lick his ass) but then he gave in to it
- and I nearly lost him there, for a moment!
Finally, though, we got to the point where he wouldn't stop.
At the end, he just refused to let me back off from his cock. He
held my head down with BOTH of his hands and began to fuck my
mouth! His cock was too big for me to take that - he began,
unintentionally, to hurt the back of my throat with his thrusts.
Finally, I was able to get up off him for a moment, and I told him
to calm down. I explained that, if he'd let me, I'd bring him off
better than anything he had ever felt. He apologised, and looked
so sheepish that I had to laugh - and he thought that I was making
fun of him. For a minute, I thought we'd lose the moment - but he
was too interested in cumming for that, thank God!
I got a good grip on him with both hands, my left down near
his balls and my right up under the head. I'm no small woman, and
I had BOTH hands full of cock at this point. I took his head and
a couple of inches of his cock into my mouth and rested my mouth
against the back of my right hand, then started to jerk him off
with both hands at once - with my mouth keeping time and staying
right against my hand.
He started to fuck really hard, and I knew that we were nearly
there. I kept watching him as I sucked. I wanted to see the look
on his face when he shot! He was still looking at me, but his eyes
were strangely unfocussed - like he was seeing me and not seeing
me at the same time.
When it happened, there was no warning at all! He just
groaned really loud - and the cum started flooding my mouth! I
couldn't believe how much there was. At the same moment, his eyes
SNAPPED into focus, and he was staring at me - watching every
movement.
The first couple of shots actually filled my mouth up! I
wanted him to see everything, so I tried NOT to swallow for a
minute, so that I could give him a good show - but that didn't work
at all! I finally HAD to swallow, because the cum kept pouring out
of him! I had remembered that young men frequently have a lot, but
I couldn't believe this! For the first time, I had cum dripping
down my chin and my neck because I COULDN'T keep up with the flow!
As he got toward the end of his orgasm, but was still shooting, I
pulled my head back and drew my mouth off his cock. Opening it up
so that he could SEE the mouthfull I still had, I continued to
stroke his cock with my hands. The shots continued with enough
force to arc into my mouth - and a couple landed on my cheek, which
I loved! This was the first time I had ever given a blowjob the
way I had dreamed of doing it! He watched the cum landing on my
face in fascination, and I could tell that he LOVED that and the
way I looked, smiling up at him with a mouthfull of his sperm!
When it was finally over, I held him gently in my left hand,
feeling the big cock shrinking rapidly. I stroked him lightly, and
gently ran my thumb over the still-soaking head, while I used my
right hand to wipe the cum off my chin and cheek and licked up
every drop! He watched in fascination, and later told me that I
had made real one of his most frequent fantasies. He thought I did
it for him - but it was definitely for both of us!
When it was over, he was like a puppy - all tail-wagging and
grateful. When he asked what he could do for me, I just stood up,
smiled, and led him into the bedroom. By the next morning, I had
been more than paid back!!
****************************************************************************
The Halflife of Dreams
In the smooth blue mist of the night, a figure is dimly
visible in the distance. As the shapes and sensations of barely
recognizable events drift past he pursues the figure, or he
thinks he does. The pace of the shifting memories quickens, but
he will not be daunted, he feels passionately driven to fix the
vision of the figure before, before... It seems to be getting
closer now, a woman with raven black hair. As the distant figure
gathers out of the mist, others appear as well. One of the
shapes edges towards him.
At work, and his hands seem glued to the keytops of the
computer console. One report after another flows from mind to
hand to screen to paper, they come and go so quickly that he can
hardly even remember what he's writing. But he doesn't really
care, as his focus shifts to the small square of the cursor
blinking patiently, it always scoots to the right just in time to
avoid being trampled by yet another letter pursuing it's own
journey from mind to paper. In the pulsing of the little square
he fancies he sees her. Who? But she's gone again, just a
fleeting tickle in the back of his mind, enough to stir him back
to the task at hand.
Some more coffee just may banish this nagging vision long
enough to finish these reports. As he picks up his mug and heads
to the other room for a refill the monitor blinks out, in seeming
approval. Why don't they just let me DO what I do best, instead
of always writing these infernal reports about it.
He walks the path to the coffee machine without the slightest
regard for his surroundings, completely preoccupied with his
thoughts. Perhaps it's time for a change of jobs, or ... Yes, a
vacation.
The images cascade freely out as if they were themselves a
wave crashing upon the sand that courses between his feet. The
sand crabs edge by skidishly as they forage for the tidbits that
float in the brine. The coast is a wonderful place to loose it
all, always touching some primal place in his soul. A day could
be as simple as a swim and a read, or stretch out to include
sumptuous dinning and lively conversation.
The smell of the coffee snaps him back. The sand crabs return
to a darkened recess of his mind where they continue their
business undisturbed, until called upon once again to dance
across the playing field of his mind. He takes a sip of the warm
coffee as he starts back to his office, stepping nimbly aside as
the commuter train whisks by toward Oak Park.
If I catch the 10:18 I'll get to O'Hare by 11. He still
hadn't checked to see whether the secretary had pre-booked the
seat or not, but either way he'd have enough time. He places his
coat over the back of the seat and once again removes the plastic
cover from his coffee, still hoping that by the time he finished
the cup it would clear his mind of the remaining wounds from the
previous night's drinking.
As he surveys the faces of his fellow passengers he feels a
sense of consolation as many of them slowly nurse a cup of joe,
or gaze out through dark sunglasses, in spite of the gray
overcast that obscures the sky, from the lake well into the west.
He settles for a lazy view out the window, as the scenery bounces
by.
In the distance, down a broad alley, he sees the Blue Moon,
the dance hall where he had often drank as a teenager. This is
where he played his first game of pool, learned to polka and slam
dance, even bought his first condom, from the machine in the mens
room.
Sheila was older than he was, but after much prodding from
Tom, the bartender whom he'd known since he was a kid, and some
number of vodka-tonics, he finally makes his move. He plunks a
couple of quarters into the jukebox and picks out a few songs.
First a song a little slower than whatever is playing, anything
would prove a welcome respite to the incessant Barry Manilow and
Bee-Gees, then a classic show tune, and then the polkas.
Wednesday nights are his favorites, the crowd is a good mix of
young and old. The working stiffs are tired, and will leave at
the slightest provocation once the clock gets past ten-thirty -
his song selection providing that impetus. The older folks, his
real friends, were in no hurry, they lived for their polkas,
bingo and gin. Those that remained were either other kids like
himself, the invisible hangers-on that slipped in and out of
society as it suit them, or else people with a need - a shoulder
to cry on, a drink to lean on, or a body to press against in the
night, to wash away whatever chains of shame or loneliness or
guilt bind them into that closed box of urban night life.
She's in this last group, he's sure. He slowly winds his way
over to her, dodging the remaining pool players and dart boards
as he approaches her table near the dance floor. Sheila
nervously pushes about the butts in her ashtray with her
smoldering Salem, hoping that the recent exodus of people from
the bar won't mean another night ending at bar time, with her
barely sober enough to make the drive home. She's brushing her
long black hair from in front of her face as he makes it to the
table.
He asks her if she wants to dance. She's a bit apprehensive
at first, this lanky kid in the shark skin suit isn't exactly her
type, but the very idea of being asked to dance a polka by anyone younger than
thirty peeks her interest. As soon as they hit the
floor he's on automatic pilot. Ol' Frankie had taught him well,
he knew that. There's barely a soul on this side of town who can
polka like he can, and before long she's caught up in the energy
and excitement of the dance. The old timers give him plenty of
room on the floor, he's their boy, as they keep dropping quarters
into the record machine.
By the time the music stops they're laughing and giggling as
they applaud their own performance. For the first time since
seeing her from the bar he sizes her up on the way back to her
table. Her black hair flies out in a wild spray from her head,
with curls so chaotic that they had to be real. The sweat from
the dancing outlines her breasts perfectly in the now nearly
transparent fabric of the danskin she wears. An ankle length
denim skirt, cut to hug from waist to hip, and habatchi sandals
complete the outfit that marks her as someone not given to the
trend of the moment.
He drops into the empty seat, already envisioning her body
riding up and down on him with the same careless energy and
rampant lust for excitement that she displayed on the dance
floor, when she surprises him with the question. She is still
standing, one hand on the back of her chair the other on her out
thrust hip, as she asks simply, "Do you want to come over to my
place, I've got a dance I'd love to teach you."
The night turns into one long delirious orgasm, neither of
them noticing the sun's tentative arrival in the eastern sky. He
buries his face between her legs, wanting, for once, to give a
woman the greatest pleasure he can, rather than just satisfying
some inner feeling that this is what she expects. As he tastes
the saltiness of her musk he feels driven from deep inside,
eliciting shrieks and moans from her without a single thought for
what he is doing. He hardly even feels his own erection bouncing
against her leg as he focuses on, even feels, her excitement
building. Somewhere in the back of his mind he realizes that
what he'd been doing up until now was having sex, this is making
love.
With a deep guttural moan she pushes him back, and then pulls
him up to face her. As he props himself up on his hands, she
grasps his erection with one hand, spreading her lips with the
other, pulling him into her. He is amazed at his own passiveness
in all of this, he is drawn along, his every motion directed by
some other mind. With every thrust they stare into each other's
eyes, a tantric lust passing between them far surpassing any
single sensation he has felt before.
For awhile her ear or shoulder or knee becomes a point of
focus for him. He has not a single thought other than to consume
her, or feel her. She rubs his chest and nipples with one hand
while slowly, gently consuming him. Slowly drawing him into her
mouth and then tickling him with her tongue while pulling away. He finds even
more arousal in watching her movements, her lips on
him, the clarity in her face, her breast sliding up and down
along his thigh, than in the sensations coming from his groin.
Then she rises, half silhouetted in the breaking dawn, and
mounts him. There's no question but that she is in control,
although he senses from the look in her eyes that she too is
being lead by some deeper spirit. As she rides him up and down
he remembers his impression from earlier in the night, as he
imagined the diaphanous fabric of her danskin melting away and
her skirt falling in threads as she humped him wildly.
But now it was not wild. Last night seems so far away - he,
in his shark skin suit, out for a piece of ass, and she, another
lonely drinker praying that the night would soon end, even though
a lifetime of them lay on the horizon. As he felt yet another
orgasm building he looks up to her eyes. Her face is cast in the
mold of Aphrodite, eyes closed and a mouth without a smile
displaying the most sublime pleasure. They move together toward
the precipice.
"Would you like some more tea?", his mother asks. He wheels
around, profoundly embarrassed at the sound of her voice. Even
as he realizes the absurdity of her presence here in Sheila's
apartment the world starts do slip away. "Mom! What are you
doing here?" barely makes it's way out of his mouth than he
starts to sense the room around him, and the sound of the morning
traffic report blaring through the tinny speaker of the clock
radio. With a swing befitting a Golden Gloves boxer fighting for
his right to the belt he smacks the snooze button and rolls over.
Closing his eyes he starts to plunge deep into his mind
fighting against time to catch the remaining vestiges of the
image. Racing against the clock, and the diminishing halflife of
dreams.
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