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Janet
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.
Janet couldn't sleep.
It might have been the heat or it might have been her roommate's snoring
coming through the paper thin wall or it might have been that her
shit-for-brains ex-boyfriend had walked out on her a week ago for the last
time. Not that she missed him. Much. It could have been any of those things.
But it wasn't.
You see, she had this itch.
It was a very aggravating itch, and it made her restless. It was located
in a very special place, high up between her thighs. It was a very deep itch,
and would require very deep scratching. Of course, she could scratch it
herself, as she had done on several occasions before, but her restlessness
was reenforced by the sound of gentle snores from the room next to hers.
It would be oh so much better to have somebody scratch it for her.
Allen had always been a good friend of hers, but she had preferred to keep
it at a friendship level. When mutual financial circumstances had made
sharing an apartment seem like a very good idea, she had proclaimed to the
rafters that the ONLY thing they would share would be the bills. Allen had
agreed good-naturedly, as usual. For six months and more, it worked out just
fine. They respected each other's privacy, always one managing to find
something to do elsewhere when the other brought home a date, etc. They grew
closer, almost like brother and sister. Consummating this relationship almost
seemed like breaking a taboo.
But happy-go-lucky Allen had never noticed the sidelong looks Janet
sometimes snuck at him. At the curves of his well-muscled chest and the bulge
in the tight fitting jeans he sometimes wore. To put it nicely, he was built
like a brick shithouse. And she was sure she had caught him looking at her
the same way more than once, though he always pretended to be looking at
something else instead. But no words were ever said about them, that barrier
never breached.
But now old shit-for-brains was out of her life for good. And she lay in
the darkness empty, lonely, and horny as hell.
She tossed and turned on top of the covers in the stifling heat, clad only
in panties and a long T-shirt. Her mind tossed and turned even more
violently, tormented by her aching need for a man and the maddening closeness
of one. And the fear of disrupting a fine friendship.
The need won. She sat up on and slowly pulled her T-shirt off. Her nipples
were fully erect and incredibly sensitive. The cotton fabric of the T-shirt
felt like sandpaper against them. She got up and pulled her panties off,
which joined the shirt in a pile at the foot of the bed. Completely nude, she
felt curiously free. The warm, stifling air in the room seemed to caress her
sensuously, exciting her all the more. Squaring her shoulders and biting her
lip, she gathered up all her courage and started for the door.
Dear roomie, she thought wryly, you're in for one hell of a surprise.
She opened the door to Allen's room slowly, careful of the squeaky hinge
at the bottom. She peered in.
Moonlight spilled across the bed from the open window at the far end of
the room. It was cooler here, but still quite warm. Allen lay on his back, a
sheet rumpled around his hips. He had stopped snoring, his breathing deep and
regular, as he deeply slept.
She crossed the room to his bedside, horrendously aware of her nakedness,
and feeling more than a little foolish. Stop this right now, her rational
mind ordered, go back to bed immediately before you embarass yourself beyond
all recall.
But the itch spoke with a much louder voice.
She knelt by his bed and placed a gentle hand on his arm. Softly she
whispered his name into his ear. No response. Dead to the world, as usual.
Not that she could blame him. He worked in construction, and that was very
hard work indeed.
She ran a hand along his arm, feeling the muscles there. Her gaze traveled
to the sheet. A sudden, mischevious thought occured to her, one that she
wouldn't have even considered in the rational light of day. She grabbed the
sheet by one corner, and slowly pulled it down.
As she suspected, he wasn't wearing shorts.
She gazed in silent wonder at his penis, laying to one side in its black,
curly tuft of pubic hair. It was... sizable, as she has always suspected from
the everpresent bulge he sported even when wearing loose pants. Hung, to put
it crudely. Even before she thought of it, she reached out to touch it.
She fondled it gently, feeling its limp weight. Allen remained oblivious,
fortunately. If he awoke right now, he'd explode, she thought. Then she
banished that thought to the back of her mind, where it belonged.
And then all thoughts dissapeared momentarily as his penis began to
stiffen in her hand.
She jerked back and watched in silent amazement as it grew, slowly,
jerkily straightening from its curved position to lay flat and hard against
his belly, pulsing slightly.
Wow, she thought, gazing upon the magnificent sight.
She listened to his breathing for a long moment until she convinced
herself he was still asleep. It was as if her need had somehow affected him
even in his sleep. She had fondled men's penises before while they slept, but
this was the first time she had suceeded in getting a rise out of one.
Horrible joke, she thought giddly to herself as she reached for it again.
He was hard all right, hard as a rock. Almost absently she ran her thumb
along the smooth, silky shaft and she wondered what it must be like to carry
all of one's equipment on the outside. With such easy access, no wonder men
were so horny all the time. She was certain she would be.
Allen had a magnificent cock, easily larger and heavier than her old
boyfriend's. If he denied this to her, she would probably never be able to
sleep again. After all, it was the eighties. It was perfectly all right for
friends to have sex if they wanted to. And oh God, how she wanted to...
A low quiet moan escaped Allen's lips, startling her out of her reverie.
His hips shifted slightly, then lay to rest again. Every instinct screamed
for her to get out, but she was rooted to the spot. No way could she leave
now. If she wanted any sleep tonight, she would have to finish what she
started. If he woke up, so be it. She was sure he wouldn't object too
strenuously now. She hoped.
She shifted her grip on his cock lower down and leaned across his hips,
bringing her face closer. She stared at it for a moment and then stuck her
tongue out, touching the tip gently.
She knew from past experience with other men that a teasing touch would
jolt him, and probably awaken him as well. So she swirled her tongue around
the head of his cock, keeping full contact. She heard him moan again and then
sigh. Around and around she swirled her tongue, feeling the roughness on top
of the head, and the smoothness below. She ran it slowly along the smooth
hardness of the shaft, down almost to the base then back you again. She could
feel slight movement beneath her, as his hips began to move up and down in
slow rhythm.
She ran her free hand down her own stomach, to the mass of her pube, and
placed a finger up against the swollen knob of her clitoris, slowly stroking
it. At the same time, she plunged his cock into her mouth as deep as it would
go.
It filled her mouth completely, with a fair portion of its length left to
go. Her other hand cupped his balls, and she could feel them tighten as she
pulled the cock out of her mouth, sucking gently. Again and again she plunged
it in, and now she could feel definite movement beneath her as his hips began
slwoly pumping. She heard his breathing grow rapid, though he was still
wrapped deep within his dreams.
The itch, prodded by her manual stimulation, quickly grew into a tingling
then into a fire. Waves of sheer pleasure radiated from her groin and washed
over all parts of her body. Her nipples were electric, and she had to
suppress a gasp whenever they rubbed against the bed or his body.
His rapid breathing became low moans, and his hips moved more violently as
she suddenly detected a slight salty taste in her mouth. It won't be long
now, she thought deleriously to herself, giving in to the raw, primal
sensations flooding her body.
His subconcious moans became gasps and she felt his balls clench in her
hand. His hips raised and locked as a long, half-stifled groan escaped him. A
fraction of a second later a huge amount of fluid shot into her mouth, which
she swallowed immediately. At the same time the fire in her crotch roared and
exploded once, twice, three times in a rapid succession that would have left
her gasping for breath had her mouth not already been occupied. She was very
glad she was already kneeling, as all strength had left her legs.
Slowly, Allen's body relaxed as Janet drew back and leaned against the
bed, shivering almost uncontrollably. She was drenched in sweat. It was very
rarely she came twice like that, and three times was almost unthinkable. Her
whole body tingled and she knew she her muscles would ache tomorrow. Small
price to pay for such an incredible experience.
She looked up, fully expecting Allen to be looking back at her, but to her
total astonishment, the big dummy was still asleep! Her anger was quickly
smother by bubbling laughter, which she quickly stifled. It would be a shame
to wake him now.
His breathing had returned to its previous monotonous regularity, and his
erection was just beginning to fade. She leaned over one last time and gently
kissed it just below the head. Then she pulled the sheet back over his hips
like she found it.
Her legs were still wobbly and it took three tries to stand up. Her heart
jackhammered in her chest and she suddenly felt very, very tired. At the door
she turned and looked back, seeing him still framed in the moonlight.
Goodnight, my love, she said silently, if you're this good now, what will it
be like when you're awake?
She almost laughed at this, knowing full well that she had done everything
herself. But next time, though, next time...
Back in her room, she pulled the T-shirt on and collapsed on top of the
bed, exhausted. Contentedly she snuggled into her pillow and fell alseep
almost instantly, dreaming very pleasant dreams indeed.
The itch troubled her no more, though it soon would again.
Early next morning, she padded around the house bleary-eyed in her robe.
Allen emerged from his bedroom just as breakfast was ready, as usual. This
time, though, she felt no irritation about it. He was already dressed, as he
would have to leave for work as soon as he was finished. He seemed even
cheerier than usual, and fell to his breakfast with gusto, asking for seconds
and thirds. Finally he was in danger of being late when he got up from the
table. He grabbed his jacket and kissed her a quick peck on the cheek. Though
hurried, he paused at the open door for a second.
"You know," he said, seemingly puzzled, "I had the damndest dream last
night."
Then he pulled the door shut behind him, totally missing the smile she
wore...
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