running a close second for the VP slot against Brenda, but had managed to slip

past her by anonymously leaking false information about BJ thru the companies

computer system. Brenda was never sure where the rumors started but had a very

good idea.

Once Karen had taken her position still fearing Brenda’s superior talent, she

proceeded to “in effect” demote her by making her the department head over a much

smaller department. This move infuriated Brenda and revenge was all she could

think about. Months went by before her chance would come, then one day as if a

miracle she was in Karen’s office when Karen had to leave the office quickly and

failed to log off her computer it was the chance BJ had waited for. She quickly

determined Karen’s password from the careless notes left unprotected on her

messages and then she noticed the “anonymous” memos with Brenda’s name on them.

It had been Karen in fact that had stared the false rumors. Karen would live to

regret both mistakes.

The company was doing much work with the 3rd world, in a small country, Bariwa,

with much mineral potential. They were working on a financing plan to exploit

these for the good of the country. BJ finally had her chance to be rid of Karen

forever. As it turns out the project was in almost absolute control of Karen and

since BJ had access to all her files she could interfere with the project.

Brenda formulated her plan and began putting it into action.

Bariwa was depositing large sum of gold with the company in exchange for cash

which Karen was to invest on behalf of the Bariwanian government. BJ began

intercepting the transfer requests from Karen and making them herself. Using

Karen’s ID and password she opened a money market account with her firm and

stared stripping 5% of all transfers Karen requested and depositing it in

“Karens’s” account. Within a month “Karen” had embesseled 3.5 million dollars.

The trap was set….

The following Monday Karen left for Bariwa and BJ left for Western Union. She

had updated all of Karen’s real computer records with her transaction and booked

a flight from Bariwa to Rio in Karen’s name, conviently one day after Karen’s

scheduled return. The wire was to the Bariwanian finance minister and outlined

suspicious activity that the sender felt was not in the best interest of Bariwa,

with enough details to point the inquiries in the right direction, signed

“Anonymous”.

Just as planed the minister made inquiries that very day to the company

president’s office and Karen’s “plot” was uncovered. The company quickly

complied with requests for records in an effort to retain their business. And

still Karen had no idea the snare was about to be triggered as she visited with

several government officials in Bariwa. On her final official visit she was to

see the finance minister and arrived in a limo at the capital early in the

morning. She would not have a good day. She noticed on her way in that security

seemed very tight. There were four armed guards in the ministers waiting room,

all very large men with frowns on their faces but she did not worry. When she

…End of the part1. To be continued..

“Hey babe, want to dance?” he asked, in a melancholy voice.

“Sure, why not?” she said.

So they began to dance. She wasn’t a great dancer. She just
kind of kept shaking her arms and legs the same way, over and
over again. After a while, he felt the way you feel after you’ve
seen the same commercial too many times, that feeling of “Oh, I
know what is going to happen next, but my brain is too dead to
care.” Ho hum, he thought. But he knew that you had to dance at
least three dances with a woman before you could seduce her, so
he tolerated it.

The second dance was even more boring than the first. The music
switched from rock to reggae, but her dancing hardly changed at
all. He started counting beer cups in people hands, while he
danced, just for something to do. He had counted 112 by the time
the dance ended. “Great, only one more dance to go, he thought.”

The next dance was a slow dance. A lot of parties never put on
slow dances, but this one did, and Jack was very happy, because
he didn’t think he could take a third fast dance with her monoto-
nous rhythm.

He looked at her, when the slow music started, wondering if she
was ready for slow dancing. She had that same look in her eyes
that he had seen hundreds of times before, that look that says
“Go ahead, put your arms around me and start dancing. Have I got
something better to do?” So he did. And her rhythm was defi-
nitely different this time, finally. Now, she basically just
stood there, kind of wobbling back and forth a little. And now
he realized how much he hated slow songs, because they just went
on, and on. It was a slow love song, just like so many love
songs he had heard before. This one was worse than many, howev-
er, because it was one of the ones that was currently getting too
much play on the radio.

Finally, the song ended, and, holding her hand, he led her off
the dance floor. He tried to think of a clever line, but then
decided he didn’t need one. “Hey, what’s your name?” he asked.

“I’m Jill,” she said.

“Yah, and I’m Jack.” They would have laughed, but both of them
had heard so many Jack and Jill jokes in their lives, that nei-
ther even found this real life coincidence at all funny.

‘So, I bet now he’s going to ask me to go for a walk with him.
Why do guys always use the same lines?’ she thought to herself.

“So, Jill, want to go for a walk? It’s a beautiful evening.”

‘Well,’ she thought, ‘at least a walk will be more fun than this
party. I wonder why all parties seem alike? The only thing
which wasn’t totally average about this party was the slow dance,
and I don’t even like to slow dance.’ “Sure,” she said, “where
are we going to walk to? Your place, I suppose, right?” She’d
been asked on too many walks not to already know the destination.

“Yah,” he said.

Now that she was pretty sure he wanted to seduce her, she decided
to appraise him. 5′ 9″, brown hair, brown eyes, not particularly
athletic or well dressed; but no body odor, no zits, and his hair
was combed. She would take what she could get. “Let’s go.”

The walk to Jack’s place was too long. The party had been at one
of the river houses, but both Jack and Jill lived in the Quad,
away from the main campus. They had gone up to the river houses
because, as usual, the quad was dead that weekend: only one
party, and it was lame. They walked up Garden Street, back to
Currier House. It was a walk both of them took every day, at
least twice a day, and both of them found it pretty wearying by
now. They went through the standard conversation about majors,
year of graduation, etc. but neither was really paying atten-
tion; they had asked and answered the questions so many times
before.

When they got back to Jack’s room, Jill was not very impressed.
Currier was one of the newer, more modern dormitories, and all of
the rooms were pretty similar. Jack had not done much to distin-
guish his.

“So,” Jill said, “how do you usually seduce women?” She was
feeling very direct.

“Usually, I try something with backrubs, but the last ten women
I’ve seduced, I’ve given backrubs, and I’m tired of it What do
guys usually try on you?”

“They usually ask me if I want a backrub,” she said.

There was what would have been an awkward pause, if either of
them had really cared. Jack tried to think of something more
interesting than a back rub He considered nude twister, but
wasn’t quite sure how someone would go about playing that exact-
ly, without a third person to spin the spinner. He thought about
getting out his copy of the 5000 question purity test, but found
himself falling asleep at just the thought.

Finally, he said “Want a back rub?”

“Sure,” she said, lying down on his bed.

Slowly, he massaged her back, through her shirt. After about ten
minutes, her shirt started to ride up, intentionally, and he
began to actually massage her skin directly. Eventually, he
began massaging around her bra strap, and then clumsily unsnapped
it.

‘Thank God,’ she thought. It was taking forever. He gave an
average backrub, but she had never really been into back rubs
anyway. Eventually, his hands went lower and lower, and he was
touching the sides of her breasts, and then the front, and then
the nipples. ‘Pretty predictable,’ she thought.

Finally, she turned over, and they began kissing, and undressing.
She had a mediocre body, too much flab, but so did he. Neither
of them became particularly passionate, but both found the caressing vaguely enjoyable.

Slowly, his hand worked its way down to her vagina, and it was,
of course, slightly moist. He fingered her and sucked her tits
for a few minutes. Then, foreplay out of the way, he put on a
condom, and they had sex in the missionary position. He wasn’t
very good, not giving enough clitoral stimulation. She decided
to just lie back, and think of England. She had never been
there, so there wasn’t very much to think about, but it was more
interesting than the half hearted attempts of Jack, lying on top
of her. Eventually, Jack sped up his pumping. Faster and fast-
er. ‘Great,’ she thought, ‘he’s almost finished.’ When he came,
spurting into the condom for a few seconds, she faked her orgasm.
He wasn’t fooled by her faking, but he didn’t really care.

From perched upon her rock up high
the ever watchful Lorelei
was forced to give a moral gasp
on seeing Hermann swimming past.

She looked askance and flicked her hair
“Mein Gott”, she thought, “what have we here?”,
her eyesight needed no correction
when she espied his large erection.

Her limbs now seized with expectation
her thoughts now filled with delectation,
she rose serenely from her rock
and fantasized about his cock.

Too long it was since that young sailor
one night had managed to assail her.
By moonlight was she thus deflowered,
his cock most ravishly devoured.

She’d so enjoyed the feel of lust
As matelot his buttocks thrust.
Since then occasions passed her by,
the chance her female charm to ply.

But now she left her lofty perch
her reputation she’d besmirch,
for years she’d sat upon that rock
her tits squeezed tight in that old frock.

And standing now upon the bank
she saw young Hermann in mid-wank,
by now her mouth was salivating
as she watched him masturbating.

“What joy” she thought, “some sex at last!”
when just that moment did walk past
a young man, tight in lederhosen,
was he just camp, or was he posing?

The Lorelei in her vexation
now turned her thoughts to conversation,
she quickly recognised the scene
that now obtained with this young queen.

And Hermann’s eyes she must avert
from gazing on this young pervert,
whose mincing gait and manner queer
was almost more than she could bear.

But words they did now all escape her
that might deter her idol’s suitor,
for now young Hermann, so aroused,
had seen this young man in the crowd.

And turned his gaze in his direction
one flipper raised to show affection.
The young man, who was most excited,
rushed to the water, once invited.

His clothes torn off, and in a heap,
he plunged into the river deep,
then in a swirling sea of foam
in Hermann’s mouth his cock drove home.

Now mermen, though they often see men
have little chance of tasting semen,
which caused our Hermann jubilation
when young man had ejaculation.

And shot his spunk so white and thick
from his now rock-hard, throbbing dick.
That he might savour the full taste
the merman not a drop did waste.

But soon this scene of lust aquatic
which really had been most erotic,
was drawing to its natural close,
as young man left to find his clothes.

Which made poor Hermann rather sad,
he’d really fallen for the lad.
“Gott in Himmel, what a dish,
and much more fun than all this fish!”

Poor Lorelei had been deprived
of what she’d hoped would be her prize,
it had not been her lucky day
she’d picked a merman who was gay!

—————————————————————–
—————————————————————–
—————————————————————————-
Please don’t send requests for reposts, missing parts, GIFs, FTP sites, etc.
If you find getting stories from this newsgroup inconvenient, the archive
is available on disk. Send a blank email to adultarc@f26.n340.z1.fidonet.org
for more information. Authors wishing to have files added to or removed from
the THC Public archive should contact me at: tommy@f26.n340.z1.fidonet.org.
Please refer comments to alt.sex.stories.d or to e-mail. Thank you.
-=( Tommy )=-

By Vatasyayana

Source: “The Love Teachings of Kama Sutra”
—— (Translated by Indra Sinha)

———————————————————————–

Lying Down Positions:
——————–

Indrani draws up both her knees
until they nuzzle the curves of her breasts;
her feet find her lover’s armpits.
Small girls love this posture,
but becoming a goddess takes a lot of practice.

She cups and lifts her buttocks with her palms,
spreads wide her thighs,
and digs in her heels besides her hips,
while you caress her breasts:
this is “Utphallaka” (The Flower in Bloom).

Grasping the ankles
of the round hipped woman, whose buttocks
are like two ripe gourds,
raise her beautiful thighs
and spread the thigh-joints widely.

Full of desire, saying sweet words,
approach her with your body stiff as a pole
and drive straight forward
to pierce her lotus and join your limbs:
experts call it “Madandhvaja” (The Flag of Cupid).

Catch hold of her two feet,
raising them till they press upon her breasts
and her legs form a rough circle.
Clasp her neck and make love to her:
this is “Ratisundara” (Aphrodite’s Delight).

Lift the lady’s feet until her soles
lie perfectly parallel,
one to each side of her slender throat,
cup her breasts and enjoy her:
this technique is “Uthkanta” (Throat-high).

Your lovely wife, lying on the bed,
grasps her own feet
and draws them up until they reach her hair;
you catch her breasts and make love:
this is “Vyomapada” (Sky-foot).

The round-thighed woman on the bed
grasps her ankles and raises high her lotus feet;
you strike her to the root, kissing
and slapping open-palmed between her breasts:
this is “Markata” (The Monkey).

She lies flat on her back,
you sit between her parted knees, raise them,
hook her feet over your thighs,
catch hold of her breasts, and enjoy her:
this is “Manmathpriya” (Dear to Cupid).

Lying-down Positions – Samputa Group:
————————————

If your penis is too small for a woman,
the “Samputa” group of postures should be used:
“Samputa” (the Jewel Case),
“Pidita” (the Squeeze), “Veshtita (the Entwined)
and “Vadavaka” (the Mare’s Trick).

In Samputa your legs lie along hers
caressing their whole length from toes to thighs.
Your lover may be below you,
or you may both lie on your sides,
in which case she should always be on your left.

In Pidita the lovers’ thighs
are interlaced and squeeze each other in rhythm.
In Veshtita she crosses her thighs
or rolls each one inward,
thus greatly strengthening her yoni’s grip.

…End of the part1. To be continued..

Special thanx to: Walks-by-Night, The Unknown, Mr. Spock,
Midnight Orgy and Mad Bones

While out shopping at one of the many malls located conveniently near
me, I wandered into a water-bed store. When I entered, I saw the most beautiful
woman that I have ever seen. She was as beautiful as some of your monthly Pets.
I thought of my secret fantasy of fucking her in front of the few people in the
store.
This goddess of beauty made her way over me.
“Can I help you?” she said.
You sure can. honey, I thought to myself. “Oh, yes,” I answered. I
asked her for a certain model of sheet cover and she went in the back to check
on it. I couldn’t help but stare at her gorgeous buttocks, and thought to
myself that she had to have the nicest ass in the history of split flesh. Her
body did not stop. My thoughts were interrupted when I noticed her standing in
front of me, staring at my now-erect love tool.
“I found what you were looking for. Come back with me and I will show
you,” she said. I followed and before I could offer any resistance, she tore
off most of my clothes and threw me on the bed. We kissed passionately and then
she started to nibble on the head of my penis. She worked down my rod and
licked my balls, and she didn’t stop until I spewed my penis cream over her
face and down her throat. As I was coming, I told her my fantasy of making love
in public. It was easy to convince her to move our copulating to one of the
water beds outside in the shop. Since it was almost closing time, I gussed she
figured it would be safe.
We dressed and walked casually toward one of the sensual water beds set
up in the middle of the store. We lay down as if we were just a young couple
testing out the bed to see if it was comfortable. I unbuttoned her shirt to
reveal her large, firm breasts and rock-hard nipples. I was really turned on. I
slipped off her dress and panties as she disrobed me. Our sexual act caught the
attention of several customers. I lifted her up and placed her under the
sheets. She whispered in my ear to fuck her with all I had. I got under the
covers and slid my rod into her tight love tunnel. I was so aroused that I came
almost immediately, and her climax followed several seconds after mine.
She was moaning for more. So we turned around and got into a sixty-
nine position, this time without the concealment of the cover. She began to
suck like there was no tomorrow. I slid my tongue around the circumference of
her labia and tongued her clit until she was about to climax. I finally dove
right in and tongue-fucked her until she had four consecutive orgasms. We
fucked again while standing. Our screams almost cracked all the windows in the
store.
We finally got up and dressed. She locked up the store and told me that
she would call me again. She never did, but it didn’t matter. My fantasy had
come true.

–

Late one night, as she finishes her studying for the exam, she feels a great
desire to log on the computer. She drives in to the cluster. Waiting there is
a message from a man. A stranger to her,but it says to call him later. She is
the adventurous sort so she chats on the computer for a while, then decides to
call him on-line. They speak only briefly for he is doing some work. He says
for her to call him when she returns home. It was very late but she agrees.

She’s a bit nervous about calling this man. She has a strange sensation going
through her body but it is quite an arousing one. Her roommate has long since
gone to bed, so she virtually has the place to herself. She hears the phone
ring in her ear. It sounds as if in a hollow chamber calling out her name. He
finally answers. They chat for a bit, just general BS. It is a cold rainy night
and she is feeling a bit uncomfortable. He asks if he can come over, but she
can’t say anything. The words stick in her throat. She knows what is on his
mind. His voice is tantilizing. The storm is weakening her resistence. Without
an answer, he says he’ll be over in 15 minutes. As she is waiting she begins
to think of why she let him come over. She doesn’t know. She has felt this
mysterious sensation before. Why her…? She is pondering all sorts of
thoughts. Slowly she rises. SHe knows what he is expecting. She removes her
sweatshorts and panties, leaving only her nightshirt. Her skin is tingling.
Her body quivering. She wonders what would occur if her roommate would wake
up. The tension is invigorating. Suddenly there is a knock on the door, she
slowly opens the door. He makes his way in from the rain. He takes her in
his arms in a deep passionate kiss. He realizes her lack of clothing quickly
by exploring the realms of her body. He gently massages her swollen pussy lips
She moans at his touch. He slowly pushes 3 fingers deep inside her. Her head
falls back at the emmense pleasure. With his thumb gently flicking her clit,
he pumps into her. Her body is rocking to his motions.

He begins to pull his fingers out of her, but she doesn’t want it to end.
More she whispers, more. He slowly takes her and moves her around to where
she can sit down on the couch. There he is before her. She kisses the tip of
her enraged cock. She nuzzles his balls until he is nearly whimpering. She
takes a little of the shaft into her mouth and gently sucks while circling
the head with her tongue. She slowly pulls back. He pushes her back onto the
couch. He grabs her lags beneath the kness and pulls her to him. Her ass is
hanging off the couch, but he pushes into her. She can feel every inch of his
swollen cock inside her. She is in emmense pleasure and more is on the way.
He strokes her from experience. He seemd to know when to increase or decrease
the intensity of the strokes. Her mind can think of nothing but the pleasure
inside her. She can feel him burst inside of her, shooting hot jism into her
very depths. As she lay there thinking of all the touches, he got up, dressed,
and left….

–

It was another long, late night in the lab at work. This is a great job,

but the occasional “crunch” times explains why so few people survive more

than a handful of years. The problems are rewarding, and correct solutions let

me attend national trade conferences as an “engineering expert”, answering deep

questions on state-of-the-art technology for any of the twenty thousand people

attending from all facets of the industry. That’s the real “high” of all this

grinding: to look over a huge convention trade hall, filled with the most active

people in the whole high-tech industry, and be publically acknowledged as one of

the very few who actually *creates* the magic.

In all humility, I am merely the representative of a team of 20 to 50 people

who worked equally hard; my specialty outside design is that I can translate the

world of pull-up transistors and half-latches into the information needs of a

potential sales representative for a major customer. I can do it for 15 hours a

day for a week at a time, and keep track of who I have told what, and how much

they seem to like it. Our sales force loves me, and it gives me that one skill

outside my own department that I need for long-term advancement in the company.

True power is being among the best, and being able to get other people to recog-

nize it. Thanks to my God and my teachers, I am both.

Tonight, however, was one of those nights lost in the shuffle of “nine parts

perspiration.” I had taken once again to working midnight to about 10AM, so I

could get a peaceful environment and all the machine cycles I could eat. I have

a whole stable of routines that start their deliberations as soon as enough

people leave for their families and night life; by the time I come in, I had

quite enough diagnostic information in my electronic mailbox to take the next

step in debugging. Sometimes, I can take a few good ideas and get Jeff to

run them during the day; sometimes, I do the same for him. Between us, we cut

about 10% of the development time out of the overall department schedule, and

our stock options bear witness to our continued effectiveness. We even see one

another about once a week in these times.

That night, however, I had things almost all to myself. Someone was working

in the layout area across the floor; the overhead lights were on, and I could

see a few brown curls bob occasionally between there and the offices to the

right. Probably Debbie, one of the brightest of our new college crop last June.

She has a quick mind and a good insticnt for the correct solution, but she still

has a hard time letting go of “her” solution when a better one comes up. Also,

she puts in even more graveyard time than I did. The pace of work here will fix

both those deficiencies within three years, one way or the other. I was in no

position to guide her into more productive paths, as we rarely shared a problem

on a day-to-day basis.

I looked over the last batch of diagnostic output, and cursed myself for a

novice. I’d just wasted four hours of clock time, although with the low system

…End of the part1. To be continued..

Except in your dreams, fantasies, and fevered imaginings said my traitorous mind. Even now I got wet just thinking of her, and I felt a wild stab of jealousy at the momentary vision that confronted me: Tennisball Turner kneels naked at the left of a chair. Her distinctive blonde bob has been shaved, as has every inch of the rest of her, although her head has still a single long braid, almost a pigtail, rising from the top. Leather in blue and orange decorates each wrist, each ankle, and her throat. Her hands are locked together behind her in a single sleeve, almost elbow-to-elbow. She’s bound by several short chains into a painful backward arc in a framework upon which two candles are mounted. The candles are positioned so that every few seconds a big drop of hot wax drips onto each of her breasts. When this happens, sharp moans escape her stretched lips and the reading light suspended on a pole, which is shoved into her mouth, jiggles. A hand slaps her wax-splattered right tit, cracking off a large chunk of cooled red wax. “Be quite still, darling,” says the raven-haired Asian in the chair “Mummy’s going to beat you in a minute or so, and if the light keeps moving about it’ll take me longer to read this chapter,” her face hardens and her nostrils flare as she looks down at the helpless slave girl over her glasses “and you wouldn’t like that at all.”

In the tobacco-smelling little office, I checked my watch-fifteen minutes. I closed the door silently. My nipples were hard. I lifted my skirt and rubbed two fingers across my pussy, then touched them to my lips. It reminded me of being kissed by my slave just after she’d eaten me out satisfactorily; a taste like honey and jasmine, with a little hint of bitter lemon rind. I pinched one of my hard nipples through the fabric of my sweater and bra. My clit responded with a tingle. I sat back in the scuffed red leather chair and teased myself, running my finger slowly up my thigh. My mind took me back into the fantasy-only instead of the handsome Asian woman, it was me in the chair.

“I don’t have long, piggy, so get that tongue of yours to work.” In this fantasy her blonde hair is all there, although her pussy has been trimmed to a tiny ‘landing strip’ of fur. She’s wearing nipple clamps hung with two ounces of weight on each side. Her flesh is cruelly marked with red stripes. She displeased me yesterday, although I forget quite what it was. . . Oh but that slutty little tongue of hers! She’s really getting into her work. It makes her happy and wet to please me. Not that wetness does her any good. Her cunt is freshly sealed shut, pierced and padlocked only a few weeks ago, and as for her ass-well that’s currently occupied by a “triple ripple” butt plug which I’ve been training her to enjoy. I ease my haunches forward on the chair, presenting myself to her mouth. If her hands weren’t locked tightly to her collar she’d be fingering me and I’d have cum already. As it is, her tongue flicks my ass and pussy in that rhythm that pushes me over the edge. . . Voices; Outside; Shit! I stopped flicking my clit as the fire inside me banked, then died down. The window in the office door lit up as someone flicked the switch outside. Composing myself I quickly stood up, tucking my blouse back in, smoothing my rumpled skirt, and pulling up my damp panties. Taking a deep breath I glanced in the mirror on the end of the wall shelves. Slightly flushed, but nothing out of the ordinary for a first-day teacher. I sniffed surreptitiously-I always think that my smell gives me away when I’m horny. Not having deodorant with me, I anxiously sprayed a good bit of a can of “Air-Way Smoke-Out”, thoughtfully left by the previous occupant of the room for such emergencies-or maybe not, into the air and walked up and down beneath the hazy cloud.

I opened the door and stepped out into room 108 to find a small group of kids slowly getting bigger as students trickled in. These were grade 10’s-a particularly tough group for a new teacher. They’d seen it all, and were planning to do most of it; or egg someone else into doing it, possibly on video. Grade 10’s are testing adult wings that don’t quite fit yet. They’re ready to fly on their own, mostly, and resent interference, but you can’t quite leave them alone to figure it all out. So you have to be totally available and totally disinterested at the same time.

They stared when I came into the room, and I was conscious of the sudden silence. They could tell from my clothes that I wasn’t a student, but surely this chick was too. . .what? Too young, too . . . put together, for a teacher. I could almost feel the girls narrowing their eyes as I walked to the big desk up front.

I was a bit nonplussed at the attention, especially from male members of the class. After all, I’d spent several hours taking care that my clothes were appropriate for a teacher. They were supposed to be stylish but plain. My heels (a personal conceit-teachers were supposed to wear flats for insurance reasons) were only two inches high. My stockings were plain and dark with a seam up the back; being old-fashioned about underwear I held them up with a garter belt. My skirt was grey and pleated, but respectably knee-length, although it had a disturbing tendency to flare outward a bit. I wore a high-necked blouse with pearl buttons, trimmed with lace at the throat and wrists, with a simple short jacket over all, and my long dark brown hair had been pinned within an inch of its life into a bun. I didn’t realise until I was told, much later, how plain dressing can make a woman sexier than sheer stark nakedness.

The boys in the class shifted uncomfortably in their seats as I turned around and wrote my name on the board: Miss Flock. I’d expected some whispered comments about my last name, but a girl named Althea Flock either gets used to it or changes her name to Karen Smith. But the question I got asked wasn’t quite what I was expecting:

“Hey,” said a boy in the second row “what do we call you?” “I’m Miss Flock” I told him. He had on jeans that puddled around his ankles, a t-shirt with a big green marijuana leaf on it, and a red ball cap turned sideways. “Nah,” he said “what’s your first name?” I was a bit stunned, and reacted from pure instinct. “I don’t have one as far as you’re concerned Mister . .?” “Fisher,” he said “Jerry Fisher-but everybody calls me Fish.” His mouth was open, and his hair hung over his eyes beneath the brim of his cap. “I’m not everybody, so I’ll call you Mister Fisher,” I answered “and take off that hat, please.” I think it was only surprise that made him do it.

People think teachers haven’t got ears. Students will talk, even while other teachers are present, and they don’t seem to understand how much of what they talk about makes it back to the staff room. During my first year I gained a reputation as a fierce disciplinarian, but a parallel reputation for being fair and for working things through. I didn’t hesitate to give detentions, which surprised and appalled a lot of parents and brought me into a lot of conflict both with them and with the school administration. But I stood my ground, sacrificed my time, and gradually the parents came to know me as the teacher who could get the best work out of their kids. Almost all their kids.

For my part, I settled into school life like I’d been born to it, and for five years I taught high school English and History. I was satisfied and doing useful work. Eventually I got used to the loneliness too.

It wasn’t that I didn’t get offers. In the first couple of years every straight male teacher (and one I wasn’t certain about) and a couple of the gay female ones made me offers. I always felt awkward turning them down. My fling with Tennisball and the discomfort of sharing classes with her after it all came apart (after I broke it apart), or of seeing her around and the misery it brought on, were still pretty fresh to me. I cautiously accepted a few invitations, had second dates with a few men; turned down all the women.

It wasn’t that I was “denying my gay self” or something. I just didn’t feel anything for them. It was that “plain toast, no jam” feeling. Not that I got anything much from dating the few men I spent time with. I took a couple of them home; actually saw one man for several months. We had sex, and it was terrific overall, but eventually the whole relationship came down to sex. There wasn’t anything else. So I thanked him and said goodbye. It wasn’t quite that simple-I wound up sleeping with him occasionally for nearly a year before I decided it was doing me more harm than good.

Once again I said goodbye, and once again he was nice about it. We talked by phone occasionally, but I wasn’t very encouraging, and eventually the phone went silent too. I spent a lot of time working out or reading, and slowly got used to being alone. Then something happened that made my tiny flickering flame roar up and consume me.

At the beginning of the fifth year I worked at the school, I arrived early, masturbated quickly (it had become something of a habit), and walked into the classroom from my little office, which smelt less like smoke and more like sandalwood nowadays.

The new students, a grade 12 History class, were grouped around the room in the usual dribs and drabs. I’d had some of them in prior years. Clearly they’d told their friends about me, because as soon as I arrived there was a bit of a scramble to take seats. I felt the eyes crawling up my legs to my ass, then to my back as I strolled up the row, heels clicking. I deliberately put a slow wiggle in my walk-it would be useless for me to pretend any longer that I didn’t enjoy the looks I always got on the first day. At the front of the room, I wrote my name on the board and turned to face them.

“Good morning,” I began “I’m Miss Flock. It seems like you already know my general rules. I expect you to behave professionally towards me, just as I will towards you. I’m going to get your names from you now.”

The front row consisted of Jeff McWhirter, a skinny boy in a ratty t-shirt and glasses. I noted the shirt and made a mental check to remind him of the both the school’s dress code and my class dress code, which was somewhat stricter. Next to Jeff was Linda Long, who vaguely reminded me of a spaniel puppy. Beside her was Calvin Chung, a thin Chinese boy I guessed was both bright and gay, as was the long scarf he wore. The fourth seat was vacant.

Like most teachers and preachers, I hate vacant seats at the front. I looked over the room of blonde and brunette heads to the very back. I caught a glimpse of swirling black hair with a single blue streak, pale bare shoulders, and the distinctive “T” of a g-string visible above the waistband of a pair of “Sho-T” brand jeans (the hot brand for teen no-longer-wannabe-virgins that year). The owner was seated, leaning into the aisle as she rummaged in an oversized canvas book bag.

“Excuse me,” I said, pointing “Yes, you. What’s your name please?” There was a mumble. “I beg your pardon?” I said. “Sue.” “Sue who?” I heard a solitary giggle from somewhere.

The girl I’d addressed stood up, hips cocked and head tilted in that gesture that makes teenage girls look like 40-year-old hookers. Her g-string arced over her pretty hips under a half-shirt with no bra that I could see. And I was looking. God was I looking!

Have you ever heard the expression “wide-on”? It’s the female equivalent of a rampaging hard-on. But that was what I was experiencing. Deep in my mind something said Oh-oh. But my little lizard brain was raving Bite her! Catch her! Eat her up! FUCK her! My nipples were hard under my jacket, and I think anyone three feet away could have smelt my arousal.

“Sue” was what my mother would have called gammon: short and slim with wavy black hair that hid her face. Later on in the term, when I actually got to see her face, it was pixie-like, freckled and mischievous, and never far from a predatory grin. At the moment she stood with an old, old “fuck you” expression behind that hair. Her eyes sparkled with a happy malevolence.

“I’d like you to move up to the front desk, Miss. . .” I groped.

She didn’t rescue me. In my flustered embarrassment I glanced at the class list before me. It swam into focus, and after what seemed like an eternity but took only a few long seconds (which is plenty long enough if a class thinks you’ve lost the upper hand) I spotted the name “Castle, Susan”.

“. . . Castle.” I almost gasped. My eyes were swimming, and the blood pounded in my veins. I fought hard for control. I was a professional, damn it! In an effort to regain a measure of self-discipline I looked at her visible panties.

“Are you aware of the school dress code, Miss Castle?” Another mumble; more-or-less affirmative. “Speak up please.” Another mumble. “I still,” I said through gritted teeth “Can’t hear you. Shall we try once more for comprehensibility?” “I said yeah!” she nearly shouted “I know the stupid dress code!”

“Susan,” I said after the shocked pause which followed “I’d like you to take this seat here,” I pointed to the fourth seat in the front row “And I’ll see you this evening in detention.”

Her mouth, still largely hidden by hair, dropped open. “What’d I DO?” “You just said you knew the school dress code. Four B’s, right? No bellies, no boobs, no backs, no bums. Do I need to explain that you’ve violated at least three of those?”

There was scattered laughter. Susan stared at me with murder in her eyes. Then she flounced dramatically from the back of the room to the front. On the way she made very sure to brush past me closely, sure that I’d step away. But it wasn’t the first time a student had tried to physically intimidate me, and I stood firm.

Our hands brushed together. Just the briefest of touches; But she looked at me, into my eyes, and in that fraction of a second I felt an electricity pass through me. Oh no, Althea. I told myself sternly, this is poison-the worst and nastiest kind. As abruptly as it came on, the shock receded, and Sue Castle, whom I began to address as Ms. Castle from that day on, flopped into the vacant desk. I regained my composure, and finished calling the roll.

Over the first weeks of that year, Susan earned a number of detentions from me for violating the “4-B” dress code. Finally she settled into what became her uniform: Stirrup pants and an oversized sweater a la Marilyn Monroe-a look I thought was outdated, but which somehow made her even more of a sex-pot than her friends who were trying unsuccessfully to emulate teenage pop stars (while still covering the school minimum of flesh).

Susan had definitely begun discovering the benefits of being female in a crowd of hormone-crazed teen boys. She got respect from the jocks because she stood up to them, but hung out with the nerds, possibly making her the most popular girl in school. But her marks were atrocious, her conduct disrespectful, and she had serious discipline problems.

II wasn’t sure she was entirely unaware of the effect she had on me, either. When I told her to wait after class was dismissed she would deliberately stand too close to me, making me feel flustered and hot.

And horny. I was continually surprised and somehow angry at that. But damn it!-she was seventeen. Three years over the age of consent but nine years younger than me. And, I thought, she couldn’t possibly have any idea of the sort of things that crept into my head when she looked at me so insolently in class:

Susan Castle is standing outside my office door. She is wearing a thin, long cotton T-shirt and nothing else, as she has been instructed. Inside the office, I am waiting and wet. I slip the dildo into its harness, and then slide the free end into my pussy with a grunt. I tighten the buckles on the straps which cup my ass and hips. I always love the look of the dildo thrusting up from my crotch. Do men feel like this, I wonder? Apart from the dildo and its harness I am wearing a pair of stockings, a bustier, and opera-length gloves. The room has been prepared. Several candles flicker on the shelves, making my rubber cock cast shadows that would give old Sister Chang from high school nightmares. Hanging from assorted hooks along the wall behind my desk are some toys: A thick strap called a strapple, a piece of bamboo cane, a shiny pair of clamps (nipple or labia-oh no, the clothespins for naughty pussy lips are over there). Satisfied with the arrangements, I call out: “Enter”. I cross my arms and stand facing the door with my feet apart. The door swings open of its own accord. Susan enters with an old-fashioned candlestick. Her eyes are big, dark and a little fearful, riveted to the jutting phallus between my thighs. I melt inside, wanting to hold her to me and tell her its all going to be alright, that I’d never really hurt her. But I can’t-she needs to know that I am the one in control. Ordered to place the candlestick on the desk, Susan attempts to straighten up. But I have a gloved hand firmly in her hair. I push firmly downward. “You will enter this room only on your knees from now on, slave.” Obediently she kneels. I slap her face. “You will answer me with your little mouth,” such a tight little rosebud of a mouth-I want to kiss it. I want to pinch her lips with clothespins, I want to bite them “and what I will hear from that dirty little mouth will be ‘Yes Mistress’. Have you quite got that?” She almost nods for a minute. But eventually says: “Y-yes Mistress.” There’s no foreplay. “I’m going to fuck all your holes, right now, just to prove I can; to prove that you’re my property. Won’t that be nice?” “Yes M-Mmmmph!” as I drive the dildo between her lips. She resists for a moment, and I take a short sash cord from the desk and whip her vigorously. After about ten stripes have blossomed on her back and ass, to the accompaniment of shocked squeals, I feel the dildo fully inserted in her mouth. She’s looking up at me from my crotch, inquiringly. I fuck her mouth for a few strokes, then pull out. At my command she turns and presents her behind to me. I order her to put her head to the floor, tossing a textbook down so that she won’t risk wood burn. She almost wiggles in pleasure as I drive the first inch of the dildo into her cunt. But I stop almost as soon as I’ve begun, and she whimpers as I withdraw. “You cum without permission, slut, and I’ll whip you sixty times with the cane.” I hiss at her. An empty threat. She’s never been caned before, and her tender ass would bleed before I gave the tenth stroke. But she doesn’t know that. She also doesn’t know that I don’t know her anywhere near well enough to stop her from cumming if she started. But I rely on her honesty. I grab her ass firmly and spread her cheeks. Her puckered little asshole is porn-star clean, as I specified. Fingering a large dollop of lubricant into her hole, I begin intruding with the dildo. Her whimpering becomes moaning, then crying out. “If you want this to stop, all you need to do is use your safe word, slave.” She knows-but I have to be sure. As I seat the dildo inside her to the hilt, I feel the tension relax inside her as she opens up and admits her Mistress. I glory in the trust and triumph, and as the dildo slips in and out of both of us, I smack her ass triumphantly and start to cum. . . . See what I mean? What seventeen-year-old could possibly share that dream?
Susan settled into her seat, and for the entire term she never once raised her hand. If I called on her she’d either ignore me, looking out the window, or else she’d stare at me blankly. There wasn’t much I could do beyond give her another detention.

After her first report card, neither of her parents came to parent-teacher night. Since she was in great danger of failing, I took it upon myself to call her listed phone number. Receiving no reply, I attempted to contact her parents at work. At her father’s workplace number I was told that Mr. Castle was away at the moment and probably wouldn’t be back for several weeks. Her mother’s listed employer-the construction firm of Stonewall and Mason-told me that Mrs. Castle no longer worked for them. Intrigued, I pulled her file card at the office-technically a no-no but easily done if one knew the file clerk.

There were two listed addresses. The first was in a gated community at the top of the hill forty-five minutes from town. The security guard took my name and number, and then explained that he couldn’t let me in, as Mrs. Castle hadn’t left my name with him, but I could wait with him if I chose. Meantime, his eyes travelled hungrily up my legs to my neckline, but never got as high as my chin. I tried to give him a withering look, but I think he just thought I was squinting to read his badge number.

The second address was on what would normally be called the wrong side of town. It was a once-pretty single-storey wooden house, with a battered picket fence. Weeds and rusty swings languished in the backyard, complimented by more weeds and litter in the front. I would have thought it was an abandoned house except for the man coming out.

He wore a faded blue robe, and had a faded handsomeness himself. His feet were bare. He limped and had a thin black cigarette in his mouth and a clinking bag in his hand. He raised his head and no doubt caught me staring from my car, because he waved sardonically, then flipped me the bird. He dumped several bottles into the trash can at the side of the house, and went back in. I heard yelling.

I had put the car in gear when a dark mop of hair poked out the door, there was more yelling, and then the door of the house flew open, and Sue crossed the weedy yard at a run. I hammered the gas to the floor, and peeled out. It was guilt, of course. I had a semi-legitimate reason to be there, but at the same time, something told me that I didn’t want to be caught lurking around a student’s home.

But as I drove off, I looked in the rear view mirror. The figure standing on the sidewalk was just a silhouette in the late afternoon sun, its fists balled by its side. But that silhouette looked defeated, angry, hurt and unhappy. And I’m a teacher first. I put on the brakes and reversed toward her.

Sue slouched to the driver’s side, head down, not meeting my gaze. “He’s inside.” I was flustered for a moment. “Who’s inside, Miss Castle?” “My Dad. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”

Wasn’t it? I suddenly wasn’t sure I wanted to talk to Mr. Castle. Moreover, I wasn’t sure he’d care, that he’d understand the importance of what I needed to tell him-that the years between his daughter’s age and mine were important ones, and that those years could make a difference between his daughter being successful and happy, or . . . or not.

But it wasn’t her father, or her mother I really needed to talk to. I’d had conversations before with other students, even with Sue-although not with any results that I could see. Perhaps it was worth one last try. Even now I wonder whether I might have already been seeing the little signs of how my life and Sue’s were to change.

“Get in.” I said, swinging open my passenger door. Susan climbed in without asking where we were going. It crossed my mind that I could have been a kidnapper; a rapist; anyone, and she’d still climbed in. Then I almost laughed-goody-two-shoes Miss Flock, with her grey woollen skirts and her plain blouse and glasses-a rapist, and a lesbian rapist at that!

But my oh my-did I ever want to be!

There she sat, Karen and Scoot, hanging out. It was wonderful, his kisses,
his embraces, his strength. She felt as though it would engulf her as
he swirled his tongue inside of her mouth and she tased his sweetness.
It was too much, his hand on her legs was slowly making her hornier and
hornier: almost driving her ot of control.

“Stop,” she said: she turned around and put on some country music to
slow down the tone.

His hand kept going up and down her thighs, it was getting faster and
faster and faster: The stimulation was making her hot and wet and weat
all over. Karen’s brow was getting damper and damper as the heat built
up between her thighs. Finally, to torment him, she reached between
his thighs and started to stoke his penis: slowly at first but with
growing rapidity. At least, she thought, all is fair in love and war…

______________________________________________________________________________

Scott started sweating as his penis grew harder and harder… the tension
was almost unbearable and his penis felt as though it would explode.
It was getting to the point of no return… but Karen knew what she was
doing, she was slowly building up the tension inside of him: feeding on
his sexual frustrations and his sexual desires. It was geting too much
for him, she knew, as her hand rubbed up and down and made him feel like
a sex object.

“Oh, Karen, stop…” he gasped. Scott started taking off his pants
but Karen promptly stopped him. It was too early, she thought, it was
probably a little beter to tease him some more.

“Karen, I want you…” these were words that she heard a million times.
None of them meant it — it always seemed like a farce. But, this
time, for some absurd reason, it seemed as though Scott really wanted
her in more ways than one. His body pressed hotly against her crotch,
Karen could feel that she was getting more and more moist by the minute.
The heat, the tension was getting unbearable and her desire for sex was
just getting too severe.

“Scott, stop,” she whispered unbelievably as he stuck his hand into
her pants, sticking his fingers so that they would stroke up and down
her wetness. “Stop Scott, you’re going too fast” — she knew that he
thought that she wanted more but she had to say it anyways; it was just
all part of the good girl image that all women had to keep…

______________________________________________________________________________

More later…

When I broke my right leg after being up at the resort for only a few
days, I thought the good times were finished. But after a day or
two, when all that was left of the skiing accident was my leg in a
cast, I started to get friendly with Elizabeth. Sleek and slender
with long auburn hair and cat-green eyes, she had the kind of boobs
that made my mouth go dry. Her ski sweater filled to over-flowing.

Everyone was out on the slopes, and Elizabeth and I were in my room,
laying in front of the fire. Elizabeth had her head nestled on my
shoulder and one leg over my cast. I inhaled the fragrance from her
hair, then I started to kiss her throat and her ear. She moaned
softly.

I slid my hand in the back of her sweater and slowly started to rub
her back. Elizabeth sighed and snuggled closer. I explored her silky
mouth with my tongue; when I found a sensitive spot, she responded
with a little shiver. Elizabeth sucked my tongue. I nibbled on her
lips, licked them, and they seemed to swell with passion.

I felt Elizabeth press her crotch against my cast. She murmured with
pleasure and pressed again, harder. I slipped my hand into her
panties, massaging and squeezing her. In slow, easy waves, Elizabeth
rubbed herself against my leg.

“This is heaven,” she whispered.

She stripped off her panties, and when I started to get up, she said,
“No, don’t move.” She snuggled against me again. Her pussy flashed a
bright pink – now I knew where the term “hot pink” came from – and
her clitoris stood out, wet and slick with her arousal. She dipped
her fingers into her lovehold and gave me a taste, letting me suck
her fingers clean.

Furiously now, Elizabeth began to hump my cast, jerking her hips up
and down, rubbing her love juice over me, grinding her clit into my
leg. Her eyes were closed and her mouth open in concentration. She
was panting, and her voice was a steady sing-song of passion.

A powerful orgasm soon shook her entire body. She gave a small
scream, her legs quivering. She twitched and pushed her spasming
pussy against my cast. “Oh, that’s so good,” she said. Later, after
she had gotten her breath back, she murmured, “Thank you.”

Since returning from the ski trip, Elizabeth has come over to my
place several times – and it is amazing how creative that girl is
with a cast!

–

by Sean Devon

I awoke to music, talk and laughter
Fuzzy toward the toilet and relief
My parent’s late party smoldered on below
Old friends, new gossip, old jokes
Returning now, our guest room door agar
What’s there…peeking…who’s there?

By night light and moon, soft blonde curls abed
But who…Mrs. Taylor…Ann…a beauty
My favorite parent’s friend…warm…funny…and more
When she asked, she seemed to want to know
Her sleeping drew me closer…and excited

On the chair her clothes…a sparkling gown
Lace brassiere…and, mmm…her perfume
Dark stockings and high-heeled shoes…red
I lift a shoe and smell her…mixed with leather
It is still warm, it rubs my face

There…underneath…some dark lace
Hoping…carefully pulling…oh, yes it is!
My heart beats as I turn this garment right
I lightly touch the silk and cotton center band
Still moist…so recent at her core, I shiver

This perfume more powered than her spray
Her pungent musk so drew me close
My knees weak, I rubbed it with my face
Awake below in my PJs, I rubbed there too
On that cloth, a small drop of mine mixed with hers

A quiet moan started me!…but Ann still slept
I watched the sheet’s soft rise and fall
Touch? Could I touch her? She drew me in
Closer…her breathing…fluttering lashes
My hand shaking…but proceeding

Like a butterfly I landed on a hill
Her breathing pushed my fingertips
I looked her face for signs, then landed more
Under cotton she gave way beneath my touch
So soft, I danced across this mound

See? Could I see these? She drew me in
I eased the sheet so slow across her
Almost done…she moved…and made a sound
I froze…then…all calm, pulled again…and then
Marvelous proud puddings stood in the night

I know now, the sheet had done its work
Like little berries atop dessert, they stood
Between my fingers they were soft…but firm
Rolling…she gently twists and moans soft
Squeezing…she sucks a breath…and rises up

Brazen now, I pull each up to teepees
My Ann makes her lips to whistle
But only sucks a breath…and moans light
I suck one in…and tongue.
But now she serious moans …and rolls!

Quick, I jump! She rolls…and back
She’s again same, but soft legs apart
Can I see more? She draws me in.
I slide the sheet down her tummy…rise and fall
Her hips flair wide…and, oh…soft hair

I make through her silky tuft…and again
A closer look between…thick lips…and warm musk
In these lips, two more…and wet…and, oh!
So soft! Oh, like liquid silk…mmmm
She sweet moans…and moves…against

I slide in…and more…and deep
So soft…and out…then deep again
She hums low now and rolls her hips
Another? Can I use another? She draws me in
My second finger rubs a little nub…she jumps

I rub again…and she again…and moans
I squeeze my new friend and her lip bites
Taste? Can I taste her? She draws me in
Up my finger full with juice and
Taste her toxic lust and…need more

Sheet away. Careful as a panther now,
I crawl ‘tween milky thighs
My Ann, sleeping still, lifts a leg…slowly
I move very in…in close
Her thick vapors make me swoon

I gently tongue a lip…and hear a moan
Deeper now…and there’s my friend
So hard and soft…I feel Ann quake
I flick again…and now she moves…
To give me more…and more

I cup soft cheeks of this warm chalice
And lift it, more to drink…and deep
Tasting lust, I go for more…and more
Her molten lips caress my face
And soft hairs tease my nose

Sleepy fingers in my hair. Oh,
She’s now a ship on rising waves
Each roll portends a storm
I can’t be in her far enough
Nor drink her nectar dry

I am now deaf!…in velvet vise!
Sweet Ann’s is turned to iron!
My hair is coming out by roots
My breath’s no longer mine
I struggle to escape, but love just where I am

My gasps are buried deep in her
And hers I cannot hear
As stars appear, my root expels…
Its warm and sticky seed, and now…
Just in time, I am at both ends released!

I gasped and breathed a ragged tune
Sweet Ann, she sang the same
I held her tight and one last time
Did wash in her sweet broth
Then, tenderly, away

Breakfast already on below
Bacon scent and voices came
I heard her voice…warm…luxurious
Hands over my face…she was still there
Wanting to go…and not, I dressed

“Sean, be a dear and take the trash.”
“Yes, Mom.” Then, I dared to look
She smiled at me, “Morning, Sean”
Nervous, “Morning, Ms. Taylor.”
I grabbed the trash and fled

I did the trash, and through a window
“Ann, how do you do it? You look…well…”
“What, Marian?” “Well…almost radiant!”
“Well, thanks! I did turn in early, you know.”
“Well, that must have been it” “Oh, it was Marian. It was!”

I could feel her smiling
I smiled for years

Galloping through fields of golden wheat
basking in late summer’s heat
Reigning in at water’s edge
mere feet from the towering mountain ledge

Rising cliffs of dirt and clay
keep the rushing wind at bay
Water’s surface like glass a shimmer
sings of sirens’s song of come hither

Upon dismounting I steady your stead
experiencing my growing animalistic need
Setting the horses aside to graze
observing this scene in a heavenly daze

Valley outstretched in summer green
trees dotted laboriously about the scene
Mirror blue lake at valley’s end
fed by falls as the water descends

High in the sky the sun shines bright
making comfort an unbearable fight
Stripping down to nature’s suit
we prepare ourselves for a cool pursuit

Diving into the deep cool blue
surfacing to gaze lustily at you
Easing in with the utmost care
you cause my heart to flutter with despair

Swimming so slowly up to you
encircling your body in this bed of blue
Never before has anyone seen
a picture of beauty so pure and clean

Drawing your form ever closer to me
arousing the animal yearning to be
Lifting as breast scrape against my chest
feeling your heat rise from your nest

Legs wrap around while lowering you down
impaling you deeply upon my crown
Animal lust washes us through
as deeper I thrust myself in you

Our crescent comes with deep surprise
exploding our bodies from deep inside
Exquisite pleasure comes in joyous spasms
entwining our bodies in simultaneous orgasm

Hours have passed with the sands of time
ending this day of your’s and mine
Easing down upon the shore
we feast on a picnic made this morn

With feelings of unity we prepare to leave
this dreamlike setting nature did weave
I help you mount your steed on high
as off we set on the evening ride

Gliding along at a leisurely walk
enjoying the closeness of lover’s talk
Across the path fleet a herd of deer
flushed from cover by coming too near

Towards a farm we start to ride
as the sun from the sky does slide
All my surroundings fade to black
while I seem to be falling back

I open my eyes to the light of dawn
knowing from whence my soul is drawn
Looking about at the ice cold gray
seeing the bars of another day

Into reality again I awake
wishing my freedom I could take
My dreams allow my thoughts to see
how I think my life should be

When life lowers to hues of blue
my mind projects an image of you
I focus upon the beauty of kinship
then close my eyes for a joyful trip.

William B. Morris
—————————————————————————-
Sorry, no requests for reposts, missing parts, GIFs, FTP sites, etc. can be
honored. If you find getting stories from this newsgroup inconvenient, the
archive is available on disk. Send a blank email to
adultarc@tommys.spydernet.com for more information. Authors wishing to
have files added to or removed from the THC Public archive should contact
me at: tommy@tommys.spydernet.com. Please refer comments to
alt.sex.stories.d or to e-mail. Thank you.
-=( Tommy )=-

It was another long, late night in the lab at work. This is a great job,

but the occasional “crunch” times explains why so few people survive more

than a handful of years. The problems are rewarding, and correct solutions let

me attend national trade conferences as an “engineering expert”, answering deep

questions on state-of-the-art technology for any of the twenty thousand people

attending from all facets of the industry. That’s the real “high” of all this

grinding: to look over a huge convention trade hall, filled with the most active

people in the whole high-tech industry, and be publically acknowledged as one of

the very few who actually *creates* the magic.

In all humility, I am merely the representative of a team of 20 to 50 people

who worked equally hard; my specialty outside design is that I can translate the

world of pull-up transistors and half-latches into the information needs of a

potential sales representative for a major customer. I can do it for 15 hours a

day for a week at a time, and keep track of who I have told what, and how much

they seem to like it. Our sales force loves me, and it gives me that one skill

outside my own department that I need for long-term advancement in the company.

True power is being among the best, and being able to get other people to recog-

nize it. Thanks to my God and my teachers, I am both.

Tonight, however, was one of those nights lost in the shuffle of “nine parts

perspiration.” I had taken once again to working midnight to about 10AM, so I

could get a peaceful environment and all the machine cycles I could eat. I have

a whole stable of routines that start their deliberations as soon as enough

people leave for their families and night life; by the time I come in, I had

quite enough diagnostic information in my electronic mailbox to take the next

step in debugging. Sometimes, I can take a few good ideas and get Jeff to

run them during the day; sometimes, I do the same for him. Between us, we cut

about 10% of the development time out of the overall department schedule, and

our stock options bear witness to our continued effectiveness. We even see one

another about once a week in these times.

That night, however, I had things almost all to myself. Someone was working

in the layout area across the floor; the overhead lights were on, and I could

see a few brown curls bob occasionally between there and the offices to the

right. Probably Debbie, one of the brightest of our new college crop last June.

She has a quick mind and a good insticnt for the correct solution, but she still

has a hard time letting go of “her” solution when a better one comes up. Also,

she puts in even more graveyard time than I did. The pace of work here will fix

both those deficiencies within three years, one way or the other. I was in no

position to guide her into more productive paths, as we rarely shared a problem

on a day-to-day basis.

I looked over the last batch of diagnostic output, and cursed myself for a

novice. I’d just wasted four hours of clock time, although with the low system

…End of the part1. To be continued..

On top of the very nice physical package she was friendly, chatty and gave
a WONDERFUL lap dance. She touched as much as the law would allow, and maybe a
bit more. And as time had gone on (this was the sixth time I had come in
during the past 5 months) her dances for me had gotten just a little more
risque, a little hotter, a little more daring. She let me touch her back quite
a bit too, but I was always careful not to go over the line. It was still
great. She also gave lip-kisses. Most of the girls would only give you a
little nip on the cheek. Little details like that mean a lot to me.

Anyway, we were there and my buddy got up to go to the restroom. As he
walked away, I sighed, considering the fact I only had $22 bucks left of the
$130 I had started with, and observed that it was unfortunate the evening was
going to have to end fairly soon.

“How come?” Her voice wasn’t bad either, not the gravelly, husky female
voice that made me melt, but pretty nice all the same.

I explained the money thing. I usually got 4 or 5 (3 or 4 from her)
dances and 3-4 overpriced drinks when I came in. She knew my limits, but
I’d only had two of her dances tonight — she had been with other customers.

She leaned down with her lips to my right ear and pressed her warm soft
cheek to mine. I loved it when she did that. She did it quite a bit.

“Who says it has to end?” she asked softly.

That raised my eyebrows. She never pushed me to haul out my plastic for
her, never pushed period. A rarity, and yet another thing I liked about her
(you’re gonna be sick of all the little details I liked about this woman before
I’m done).

That left one possibility, one I’d never seriously considered before. It
was against club policy for dancers to go out with customers. Naturally the
owners were afraid of getting nailed for pimping or something, or even being
innocent bystanders in a prostitution scandal. But it sure sounded like she
was proposing a little after-work get-together. So the questions were 1) Is
she a cop? or 2) Is she a hooker?

I craned my neck around to look her in the eyes, and she shifted slightly
to help me out.

“Care to elaborate on that?” I asked.

She smiled impishly and leaned forward. Her hair spilled around our faces
and I could smell her breath. It was sweet from the call drinks we’d both had.
She touched her forehead to mine and whispered, “You’re always really sweet.
You’re friendly and you don’t try to pull a big come-on. I like that a lot.
I’d also like to spend the rest of the night with you. No strings, just fun.”
She leaned back to gauge my reaction.

She needn’t have bothered. My cock had gotten rock hard in seconds, and
as I stared back, trying to formulate a witty assent worthy of James Bond, she
pressed her leg into my erection, waggled her eyebrows suggestively and said “I
think I’ve got a ‘yes’ here.” I grinned at her and we made plans hurriedly
before my buddy came back from the restroom.

To shorten things a bit, let’s just say that it required a bit of timing
and my dashing about at high speed in my Grand Prix to get me separated from
my buddy (luckily he lived nearby) and back with Julie without her fellow
club workers noticing. Her apartment was much closer than mine, so we headed
there. I was as excited as all hell, but during the short trip alone back to
the club, I resolved that since she was giving me the most princely gift of her
beautiful body, I had to see to it that she enjoyed this evening as much as
possible. It would be my gift to her.

We had a difficult time getting into her apartment. We kept stopping
every few steps and kissing strongly. For a long time I had desired to *really*
kiss her, as opposed to the brief ones we were allowed at the club. She would
press her warm body up against mine and move up and down, stroking me with
her entire self, while our tongues “dueled like soft, moist sabers” (I’ve
always liked that line). It was wonderful, but I restrained myself as much as
possible. Crazy animalistic sex would be great, but it wasn’t what I wanted
to do for her right now. I wanted to add in a lot of tease, to make her beg
for release, to drive her crazy. I’m no Don Juan, but on the few occasions
I’d had opportunity to do this in the past, my partners were always VERY grate-
ful.

Finally, we staggered into the bedroom. She’d lost her top and I my
shirt. We flopped onto the bed, still kissing madly, but I’d managed to slow
the pace down to just intense instead of wild. Stroking her smooth back, I
eased her onto her stomach and moved up to whisper in her ear.

“Just relax for a while and let me do the work. Let it be my thanks for
your having me over.” Yeah, yeah, “having me over” isn’t all that romantic
sounding, but I didn’t want to get really gushy and say “make love”, and “have
sex” seemed *much* too cold.

“Mmmmmm,” she purred, and smiled sexily, settling onto the bed with a cute
wiggle. I took that as a “yes”, as I reached over and turned on a small lamp.
The light was subdued but ample. Excellent.
…End of the part1. To be continued..

Who was he? I only met him this morning. We talked briefly at our
chance meeting while browsing the shelves at a local bookstore. He was strong
and muscular. Tall, about 6 feet, with sandy brown hair. I suppose I was
attracted to him, for when he asked me to his place for a glass of wine, I
readily accepted.

As I sat there before the fireplace in his den, my thoughts drifted to
this afternoon, of the private moments I enjoyed as I prepared for this
evening. I recalled having completed my shower and feeling warm all over as I
passed the soft towel over my naked body. Standing naked before my mirror, I
admired the shapely form of my body. My rounded well proportioned breasts were
firm with large cherry-red nipples. Looking down, I could just see the
glistening folds of my vaginal lips, through the dusty blonde hairs of my pubic
mound. I remember trying to decide what to wear. I selected a sexy, loose
fitting button down blouse and matching shorts, which I laid out in preparation
for this evening. I chose a dainty bra and panty set. Both were made of red
silk with a touch of black lace. Dressing, the bra fit snugly, firming my
round breasts, the panties were briefs, ending just above the line of my pubic
mound. As the cool silk of the undergarments touched my warm skin, I felt a
tingling sensation which sent a shiver through out my body. I sat at the edge
of my bed, wearing only the bra and panties. I remember the internal stirring
I felt in anticipation of what this evening would bring. The desire within my
groin began to spread upward towards my abdomen, and slowly consumed my mind
and body. Looking at the clock, I knew I had time to lie back and give in to
my yearnings.

I remember, lying on my bed, the coolness of the silk bra stimulating
my breasts. I remember thinking of the pleasures I have come to enjoy in
private moments of solitude. I remember slowly sliding my fingers under my bra
and caressing my breast, slowly kneading the nipple, gently rubbing it between
my fingers. I remember closing my eyes and letting my mind ease into the
pleasure my caresses were creating. I remember becoming aroused, as my other
hand slipped under my bra, and I caressed both my breasts. I thought of the
pleasures I experienced as I massaged my hardened nipples between my fingers.

A crackle of a burning log returned me to the present. The thoughts
of this afternoon, along with the effects of the wine began to have an effect
on me. I could feel myself becoming aroused. As I looked into the fire, I
felt the familiar yearning deep in my groin. My breasts began to ache, as my
nipples engorged and hardened. I tightly crossed my thighs and began a gentle
rhythmic tensing of my pelvis. I could feel the moistness forming within the
lips of my vagina. I looked up at him, he seemed preoccupied with the fire,
unaware of the sexual desires slowly building within me.

Again my thoughts left the present and passed back to this afternoon.
I remembered, as I lay on the bed, reaching down over my pelvis, running my
fingers over my panties. I remembered the moistness of the thin piece of silken
underwear, as I let my fingers slip under the panties. I thought of my moist
vaginal lips, how the wetness felt. I remembered how I slowly began to gently
tease my soaking vagina, the intense feelings as I ran my fingers between the
soft labial folds, carefully sliding along side my swollen clitoris. I remember
gently stroking my clitoris, slowly forming circles around it. I could almost
feel the quivers my throbbing clitoris passed upward into my abdomen during
that afternoon’s pleasures when I brought myself to a very fulfilling orgasm.

I took another sip of wine, and my mind returned to the present. He
looked back at me as he stood before the fire, stoking the logs. A soft smile
appeared upon his lips before he turned back to the fire. I watched him as he
knelt before the fireplace and played with the burning ambers. The glow of the
fire, and the rush of the wine was slowly making my head spin. I could feel the
heat spreading through out my body. In an effort to cool off, I unconsciously
opened the top buttons of my blouse. I felt the coolness of my silk bra upon my
breasts. Through clouded eyes I looked for him. He rose, and walked from the
room, stating the need to get another bottle of wine. I heard his footsteps,
descending the stairs to the wine cellar. There I sat, the warmth of the fire,
the coolness of my silk undergarments upon my skin, alone.

I closed my eyes, and laid my head back upon the soft cushions of the
couch behind me. My head was spinning, both from the wine and the thoughts of
the pleasures I gave myself earlier. I could still feel the tingling glow from
the orgasm I had this afternoon. Opening my eyes, I starred at the burning
logs. The warmth of the fire spread up over my chest and radiated up to my
neck. The heat was stirring a desire within me. In a daze, I opened the
remaining buttons of my blouse. The coolness, as the open blouse bared my
chest, stirred me to greater desire. My hand moved again to my chest. I undid
the front clasp of the bra, and let the cups fall away from my breasts. My
fingers reached for my nipple. I began to massage the swollen tip with my thumb
and index finger, and gave in to the pleasure of the moment. My thoughts were
no longer of the pleasures of this afternoon, but rather of the intensity that
was now building deep within my groin. I could feel my nipple hardening as I
continued to massage the tip.

Slowly, my other hand moved towards my breasts. Its fingers reached
for the nipple, and I began to gently massage the hardened nipple between my
thumb and index finger. Both nipples were now engorged and throbbed with
pleasure as my fingers massaged the tips. I moaned softly as the waves of
pleasure my fingers created upon my breasts spread to my pelvis. I was in a
world of my own, concentrating only on the throbbing within my groin & abdomen
as I continued the intense stimulation of my nipples. I crossed my legs and by
tensing my thigh muscles applied a gentle pressure upon my groin. I began to
rock my pelvis, increasing the intensity of the pressure upon my vaginal lips
…End of the part1. To be continued..

Late one night, as she finishes her studying for the exam, she feels a great
desire to log on the computer. She drives in to the cluster. Waiting there is
a message from a man. A stranger to her,but it says to call him later. She is
the adventurous sort so she chats on the computer for a while, then decides to
call him on-line. They speak only briefly for he is doing some work. He says
for her to call him when she returns home. It was very late but she agrees.

She’s a bit nervous about calling this man. She has a strange sensation going
through her body but it is quite an arousing one. Her roommate has long since
gone to bed, so she virtually has the place to herself. She hears the phone
ring in her ear. It sounds as if in a hollow chamber calling out her name. He
finally answers. They chat for a bit, just general BS. It is a cold rainy night
and she is feeling a bit uncomfortable. He asks if he can come over, but she
can’t say anything. The words stick in her throat. She knows what is on his
mind. His voice is tantilizing. The storm is weakening her resistence. Without
an answer, he says he’ll be over in 15 minutes. As she is waiting she begins
to think of why she let him come over. She doesn’t know. She has felt this
mysterious sensation before. Why her…? She is pondering all sorts of
thoughts. Slowly she rises. SHe knows what he is expecting. She removes her
sweatshorts and panties, leaving only her nightshirt. Her skin is tingling.
Her body quivering. She wonders what would occur if her roommate would wake
up. The tension is invigorating. Suddenly there is a knock on the door, she
slowly opens the door. He makes his way in from the rain. He takes her in
his arms in a deep passionate kiss. He realizes her lack of clothing quickly
by exploring the realms of her body. He gently massages her swollen pussy lips
She moans at his touch. He slowly pushes 3 fingers deep inside her. Her head
falls back at the emmense pleasure. With his thumb gently flicking her clit,
he pumps into her. Her body is rocking to his motions.

He begins to pull his fingers out of her, but she doesn’t want it to end.
More she whispers, more. He slowly takes her and moves her around to where
she can sit down on the couch. There he is before her. She kisses the tip of
her enraged cock. She nuzzles his balls until he is nearly whimpering. She
takes a little of the shaft into her mouth and gently sucks while circling
the head with her tongue. She slowly pulls back. He pushes her back onto the
couch. He grabs her lags beneath the kness and pulls her to him. Her ass is
hanging off the couch, but he pushes into her. She can feel every inch of his
swollen cock inside her. She is in emmense pleasure and more is on the way.
He strokes her from experience. He seemd to know when to increase or decrease
the intensity of the strokes. Her mind can think of nothing but the pleasure
inside her. She can feel him burst inside of her, shooting hot jism into her
very depths. As she lay there thinking of all the touches, he got up, dressed,
and left….

–

Deb looked classy — I liked her tightly creased pants and high
heels. Her short, light brown hair had blond highlights and
swept over the top of her head. She wore dark glasses that
framed her piercing brown eyes. Her lips were shiny with
lipstick and when I saw the stain on her beer glass I thought
about what it would be like to have a similar stain around my
cock. Her small mouth seemed barely big enough to fit around my
generous member — but I wanted the chance to see.

She was keeping up with me in beers and since I was starting to
feel pretty good, I knew that she had to be as well. We talked
about dope. “I haven’t been stoned in years,” she said. I
invited her out to my Jeep for a smoke and she agreed.

We tuned up and talked. “God, I’m horny,” she blurted. No need
to tell me twice — I leaned over and kissed her. We sat kissing
for several minutes, then she rested her hand on the inside of my
thigh. My hardening cock was only a couple inches away. She
moved her hand up and rest it gently on my dick. It wasted no
time in getting hard as rock; “you’re hung like a horse!” Deb
exclaimed as she ran her hand over my masterpiece. “Take a
look”, I offered as I unzipped my pants and pulled them to my
knees. My rockhard shaft bounced free and pointed straight up.

Deb bent over and put the head of my cock into her small mouth.
I could see her cheeks expand as she worked more of the shaft in.
She lathered up the head with her spit and went to work on me. I
leaned back and relaxed, watching Deb’s head bob and parry on my
engorged penis. My orgasm came quickly under her expert suck;
“I’m cuming!” I groaned. She moaned something and put in the
little extra effort necessary to bring me off. My hips thrust
forward as I popped into Deb’s mouth. She continued her up and
down motions as my balls burst forth their nectar deep into her
mouth. When she withdrew my cock, its shaft was gooey with my
spunk.
—

You and I are at a dinner party
there are four other people there
they are friends
we are sitting next to each other at the table
our fingers are entwined
we hold hands for a few moments
then i move my hand to your thigh
i gentlely stroke it
i start to pull your skirt up your leg
…End of the part1. To be continued..

“When did he leave?”, she wondered. Suddenly, the phone rang. “This is your
wakeup call,” she heard him say softly. Her pussy was instantly wet at the
sound of his voice. “God, that was good last night,” she whispered. “I love
you,” she blurted out. “You kind of drifted off to sleep so quickly, I
thought I should leave you alone for the night,” he said. “I’m going down to
breakfast now – I would wait for you but I think that you had better get a
move on if you are going to show up in the workshop in time.” he said. She
glanced at the clock and saw he was right. “What time did you leave?” she
asked. “Oh, it was around 2 or so, but you were sound asleep. Did I tell you
that you snore?” he teased. “I do not,” she giggled.

She wanted to hug this man right now but he was on the telephone and she knew
she had to get ready for her work. “I’ll see you in the classroom,” he said.
“You think you can keep your eyes open all day?” he asked. She giggled as he
hung up the phone, but wondered if she would have a problem. She was used to
the 8 to 5 routine but staying up ’til 2, with plenty of the right kind of
exercise, may take its toll. “We’ll have to see,” she thought to herself!

She hung up the phone and headed for the shower. It felt good to have the
warm water rush over her body. As she soaped her body, she thought over last
night’s activities. She knew how wonderful he had made her feel and she began
to think about her husband and children. “How could I do this to Ray,” she
thought. “He’s such a wonderful man and Tommy and Billy – if I would have to
give them up……. Oh God, how can I be so careless?”

She toweled herself dry and began to dress for the day. She suddenly realized
that she was tired; “Oh cripes, and I have to go through this whole day
feeling like this!” she thought to herself. She finished dressing, picked up
her stuff for the meeting and left for the meeting room. Fortunately, it was
in the motel and she dropped by the office for a cup of coffee from the
Continental Breakfast they had set up. She saw some of the food there and
quick grabbed a sweet roll to have with her coffee at the meeting. She
quickly walked down the corridor to the main meeting room.

As she entered, she looked for a familiar face. The meeting had just begun
and the 500 or so attendees were mostly in place. A vacant chair presented
itself in the back row and she slipped in there to prevent disturbing anyone.
As she sat down, she glanced to her right and noticed that she was sitting
next to a tall, trimly shaped blonde lady whom she had really never met but
whose name was quite familiar to her, Garolynn Warren. Garolynn was extremely
attractive, divorced with one child, and eagerly sought after by most of the
men in the agency. Although Janis didn’t know for sure, it was rumored that
she had an occasional affair with different men from time to time.

She found herself a bit jealous of Garolynn because of her beauty and, as she
thought about it, her apparent freedom to have an affair if she so desired.
She knew Garolynn was originally from Montana and wondered if she knew Peter.
“I wonder if she and Peter have had an affair?” she said to herself,
unconsciously. She began to feel a little more jealous just thinking about
it.

Soon it was time for a break and she introduced herself to Garolynn.
Recognizing her position in agency, Garolynn asked if she knew Peter. “Why
did she ask me that?” Janis thought and replied that she had met him once when
he came to the home office to work on some problems. “Well, he sure has been
asking some interesting questions around here,” Garolynn replied, “Besides,
he’s kind of cute, don’t you think?” “What kind of questions?” Janis asked,
choosing to ignore the second part of the question. “Oh, like who’s in charge
and what their qualifications are, what they know about automation, and stuff
like that!” Garolynn replied. “Its refreshing to have people ask those kind
of questions, isn’t it?” Garolynn asked. “Yes,” Janis replied. She notice
that Garolynn was dressed well and had a full bust. She also noticed that she
was more than interested in Peter, which was raising the feelings of jealousy
that Janis found herself harboring.

“Ssssooooo, you can’t make it to class on time,” she heard his soft voice
behind her. “I…. have you met Garolynn Warren,” Janis asked. “Yes, we have
met at a couple of meetings, but I doubt that she remembers me,” as he took
Garolynn’s hand. They shook hands and Garolynn looked him right in the eyes.
Janis could see the flash of electricity pass as Garolynn passed on some small
pleasantries. Since this break signaled the adjournment of the large meeting
into several smaller meetings, Peter suggested that he accompany Janis to the
meeting they were holding. They both bade a “See you later,” to Garolynn and
moved off toward the smaller meeting room.

“What are you my brother’s keeper,” Janis snapped. “Whoa,” he stammered, “I
apologize for whatever!” “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, “Garolynn was talking
about you and I got a little jealous.” “Jealous? What for?” he asked “I
hardly know the woman – I mean I know who she is but I think this is the first
time that I have actually spoken to her. Good grief – get a grip.” “I said I
was sorry,” she said looking into his eyes. “Ok, ok – apology accepted,” he
whispered, “Can I kiss you here or would over there be better!” She was taken
back by this proposal but quickly realized that he was being facetious -
enough so that she knew he genuinely accepted her apology and held no ill
feelings. “You’re so damn cocksure of yourself, aren’t you?” she asked.
“Hell, no,” he replied “But if it looks that way, far be it from me ever
telling anyone different!”

The rest of the day went by quickly, although Janis began to feel as if she
was going to drop by about 3pm. She grabbed another cup of coffee and in
about 15 minutes began to feel as if she was going to make it through the day.
…End of the part1. To be continued..

Who was he? I only met him this morning. We talked briefly at our
chance meeting while browsing the shelves at a local bookstore. He was strong
and muscular. Tall, about 6 feet, with sandy brown hair. I suppose I was
attracted to him, for when he asked me to his place for a glass of wine, I
readily accepted.

As I sat there before the fireplace in his den, my thoughts drifted to
this afternoon, of the private moments I enjoyed as I prepared for this
evening. I recalled having completed my shower and feeling warm all over as I
passed the soft towel over my naked body. Standing naked before my mirror, I
admired the shapely form of my body. My rounded well proportioned breasts were
firm with large cherry-red nipples. Looking down, I could just see the
glistening folds of my vaginal lips, through the dusty blonde hairs of my pubic
mound. I remember trying to decide what to wear. I selected a sexy, loose
fitting button down blouse and matching shorts, which I laid out in preparation
for this evening. I chose a dainty bra and panty set. Both were made of red
silk with a touch of black lace. Dressing, the bra fit snugly, firming my
round breasts, the panties were briefs, ending just above the line of my pubic
mound. As the cool silk of the undergarments touched my warm skin, I felt a
tingling sensation which sent a shiver through out my body. I sat at the edge
of my bed, wearing only the bra and panties. I remember the internal stirring
I felt in anticipation of what this evening would bring. The desire within my
groin began to spread upward towards my abdomen, and slowly consumed my mind
and body. Looking at the clock, I knew I had time to lie back and give in to
my yearnings.

I remember, lying on my bed, the coolness of the silk bra stimulating
my breasts. I remember thinking of the pleasures I have come to enjoy in
private moments of solitude. I remember slowly sliding my fingers under my bra
and caressing my breast, slowly kneading the nipple, gently rubbing it between
my fingers. I remember closing my eyes and letting my mind ease into the
pleasure my caresses were creating. I remember becoming aroused, as my other
hand slipped under my bra, and I caressed both my breasts. I thought of the
pleasures I experienced as I massaged my hardened nipples between my fingers.

A crackle of a burning log returned me to the present. The thoughts
of this afternoon, along with the effects of the wine began to have an effect
on me. I could feel myself becoming aroused. As I looked into the fire, I
felt the familiar yearning deep in my groin. My breasts began to ache, as my
nipples engorged and hardened. I tightly crossed my thighs and began a gentle
rhythmic tensing of my pelvis. I could feel the moistness forming within the
lips of my vagina. I looked up at him, he seemed preoccupied with the fire,
unaware of the sexual desires slowly building within me.

Again my thoughts left the present and passed back to this afternoon.
I remembered, as I lay on the bed, reaching down over my pelvis, running my
fingers over my panties. I remembered the moistness of the thin piece of silken
underwear, as I let my fingers slip under the panties. I thought of my moist
vaginal lips, how the wetness felt. I remembered how I slowly began to gently
tease my soaking vagina, the intense feelings as I ran my fingers between the
soft labial folds, carefully sliding along side my swollen clitoris. I remember
gently stroking my clitoris, slowly forming circles around it. I could almost
feel the quivers my throbbing clitoris passed upward into my abdomen during
that afternoon’s pleasures when I brought myself to a very fulfilling orgasm.

I took another sip of wine, and my mind returned to the present. He
looked back at me as he stood before the fire, stoking the logs. A soft smile
appeared upon his lips before he turned back to the fire. I watched him as he
knelt before the fireplace and played with the burning ambers. The glow of the
fire, and the rush of the wine was slowly making my head spin. I could feel the
heat spreading through out my body. In an effort to cool off, I unconsciously
opened the top buttons of my blouse. I felt the coolness of my silk bra upon my
breasts. Through clouded eyes I looked for him. He rose, and walked from the
room, stating the need to get another bottle of wine. I heard his footsteps,
descending the stairs to the wine cellar. There I sat, the warmth of the fire,
the coolness of my silk undergarments upon my skin, alone.

I closed my eyes, and laid my head back upon the soft cushions of the
couch behind me. My head was spinning, both from the wine and the thoughts of
the pleasures I gave myself earlier. I could still feel the tingling glow from
the orgasm I had this afternoon. Opening my eyes, I starred at the burning
logs. The warmth of the fire spread up over my chest and radiated up to my
neck. The heat was stirring a desire within me. In a daze, I opened the
remaining buttons of my blouse. The coolness, as the open blouse bared my
chest, stirred me to greater desire. My hand moved again to my chest. I undid
the front clasp of the bra, and let the cups fall away from my breasts. My
fingers reached for my nipple. I began to massage the swollen tip with my thumb
and index finger, and gave in to the pleasure of the moment. My thoughts were
no longer of the pleasures of this afternoon, but rather of the intensity that
was now building deep within my groin. I could feel my nipple hardening as I
continued to massage the tip.

Slowly, my other hand moved towards my breasts. Its fingers reached
for the nipple, and I began to gently massage the hardened nipple between my
thumb and index finger. Both nipples were now engorged and throbbed with
pleasure as my fingers massaged the tips. I moaned softly as the waves of
pleasure my fingers created upon my breasts spread to my pelvis. I was in a
world of my own, concentrating only on the throbbing within my groin & abdomen
as I continued the intense stimulation of my nipples. I crossed my legs and by
tensing my thigh muscles applied a gentle pressure upon my groin. I began to
rock my pelvis, increasing the intensity of the pressure upon my vaginal lips
…End of the part1. To be continued..

When I was single, about ten years ago, I dated an attractive slim waitress
from a sandwich shop that I visited often. Sal was her name. She was divorced
for the thrid time and so was I, but only twice. I liked her naturalness and
openness…and her good figure, of course. Sal invited me home to meet her
mom and her eleven year old daughter, Betty. I liked Dora, her mom, and her
beautiful, blonde Betty. Both greeted me warmly and seemed pleased that Sal
had brought a decent guy home. We visited a while, and I got a nod from Sal.
I suggested that the two of us go for a walk in the cool evening air; and we
did…as though that was exactly what Sal had in mind.

We found a nearly deserted underpass, really a walking tunnel, beneath the
interstate. When we walked into its darkness, I felt Sal draw closer to me and
put her arm around my waist. We were both not dressed for the evening’s cool
temperature. I drew her close to me, face to face, and held her close for a
minute. We didn’t have to talk. We kissed gently, then frenched one
another’s eager mouth. Then we kissed long and passionately. She pressed her
erect nipples against my shirt so that I could feel them. I grew very hard
and hot. It seemed that Sal did too. She rubbed her tits against me some more,
so I reached up under her silky blouse and fondled those hot, erect nipples
to my heart’s content…but not my cock’s! She fondled my cock for a minute
or two and we realized that the tunnel would never do. I said, Let’s go to
my apartment…it may take a half hour, but it will be worth it.” Sal
agreed, and we rushed to my bed. It was so wonderful, undressing each other
for the first time. And Sal loved it when I sucked those erect nipples. But I
wanted much more.

I laid Sal back on my mattess on the floor and laid my head on her belly.
I looked up at those beautiful tits with their nipples pointing hotly at the
ceiling. I fondled them between my fingers and kissed her silken belly. When
Sal moaned with pleasure, I moved lower and kised her pussy, gently, while I
squeezed her hot nipples hard. She moaned some more and spread her long sexy
legs. I kissed her cunt as ‘passionately as I had her mouth forty minutes
earlier. I kissed her pussy until she “came”. She pulled me toward her face
…and I knew she wanted my hard, six inch dick in her cunt. I kissed her
mouth and she licked her cum off my lips…eagerly. I nearly shot my cum
into her right then…it felt so sexy having her eat her cum off my lips.
Sal thrust her hot hips up at me…over and over again…as I shoved my dick
into her sopping wet pussy. She loved every stroke…and so did I. As I
finally shot my hot jets of jissm into her cunt…she climaxed again with
noisy delight. “OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. Yessssssss! Now, baby, she cried.
“I want all your cum…and I want to eat it too.” She meant what she said.
I lay back on the mattress, and Sal started licking me clean. I was in heaven
until she said, “Oh my god, it’s after ten. I’ve got to get home to put
Betty in bed. Please take me quickly. We can do this kind of loving again
soon…I hope.” I hoped so too. And we did, but that’s a story for another
night.

–

Deb looked classy — I liked her tightly creased pants and high
heels. Her short, light brown hair had blond highlights and
swept over the top of her head. She wore dark glasses that
framed her piercing brown eyes. Her lips were shiny with
lipstick and when I saw the stain on her beer glass I thought
about what it would be like to have a similar stain around my
cock. Her small mouth seemed barely big enough to fit around my
generous member — but I wanted the chance to see.

She was keeping up with me in beers and since I was starting to
feel pretty good, I knew that she had to be as well. We talked
about dope. “I haven’t been stoned in years,” she said. I
invited her out to my Jeep for a smoke and she agreed.

We tuned up and talked. “God, I’m horny,” she blurted. No need
to tell me twice — I leaned over and kissed her. We sat kissing
for several minutes, then she rested her hand on the inside of my
thigh. My hardening cock was only a couple inches away. She
moved her hand up and rest it gently on my dick. It wasted no
time in getting hard as rock; “you’re hung like a horse!” Deb
exclaimed as she ran her hand over my masterpiece. “Take a
look”, I offered as I unzipped my pants and pulled them to my
knees. My rockhard shaft bounced free and pointed straight up.

Deb bent over and put the head of my cock into her small mouth.
I could see her cheeks expand as she worked more of the shaft in.
She lathered up the head with her spit and went to work on me. I
leaned back and relaxed, watching Deb’s head bob and parry on my
engorged penis. My orgasm came quickly under her expert suck;
“I’m cuming!” I groaned. She moaned something and put in the
little extra effort necessary to bring me off. My hips thrust
forward as I popped into Deb’s mouth. She continued her up and
down motions as my balls burst forth their nectar deep into her
mouth. When she withdrew my cock, its shaft was gooey with my
spunk.
—