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jane mff

Administrator — Sat, 26 Dec 2009 10:55:01 +0000

Archive-author: The Electric Monk

Archive-title: Jane

The temperature was at least 100 degrees that day and everyone was hot.

Jane was especially hot because she was dressed in a blouse, skirt, and

stockings. She carried a leather brief case and headed for work. She lived

alone and slept alone. When I say alone, I mean ALONE. No clothes! Little

did she know that wearing no bra and underwear would be so sensuous and

revealing. Sweat poured from her every gland and she was thoroughly

satisfied. When she entered her building she was hit with cold air which

shocked her. She causally entered the elevator, which was empty.

It wasn’t until now that she realized her blouse stuck to her, fully

exposing her breasts and nipples which were fully erect. This excited her

so much, she had to stick her hand down her stockings and feel her wet,

slick, pussy. The elevator stopped at the fifth floor, even though she was

going to the tenth floor. A tall, dark haired man walked in, dressed in a

business suit. He caught glimpse of her sweat-soaked shirt and smiled.

She knew he was becoming hard, and she enjoyed it totally, by licking her

teeth to make it worse. She then, as it hit the tenth floor, dropped her

briefcase in front of her. She bent over to pick it up, sticking her ass

way in the air showing it off.

She felt his hard cock, fully dressed, push against her tight, wet ass.

If the door hadn’t opened, they would have gone further. She smiled at him

and he smiled back. Then she exited the elevator.

Jane walked down the hall to a door which read: “Hosmon & Williams Law.”

She entered, and walked past the reception desk, where the secretary, who

was on the phone, nodded at her. Jane walked to the other end of the room

and walked into the door on the right.

Her office was large and beautifully decorated. She wiped her forehead

and went to the desk. She put the briefcase on the desk, opened it up and

sat, back, enjoying and air conditioning.

Then an idea came to her head and she leapt up. She undid her belt and

dropped her skirt, took off her panties, stockings and shoes, and sat down,

with only a blouse on, which was soaked to the nipple. She took out her

papers, and started to write when her phone rung.

“A Mr. T. Smith is here to see you. May he enter?”

She had to think for a second, looking at her bare pussy. Tim was a very

sexy man, who worked out and had light blond hair.

“Send him in…”

…End of the part1. To be continued..

Boredom of Jack and Jill

Administrator — Fri, 25 Dec 2009 09:42:01 +0000

Jack spotted Jill at the party. She had a bland face, medium
small breasts, and fair skin. He would have called it pale, but
he was feeling charitable. He decided that she was just ugly
enough that she would probably be desperate, and just good look-
ing enough that she would probably be an OK lay.

“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.

Adventures of Erica

Administrator — Sun, 22 Nov 2009 10:53:01 +0000

Erica’s first year after State U. had turned out to be very
disappointing for romance. She’d made friends, but just hadn’t found
any guys to play with.
She went through her wardrobe and selected an outfit for a
night on the town. First the black stockings attached to a satin garter
belt. Next a pair of almost luminescent white panties, followed by a
loose silk blouse and an above-the-knee skirt. Lastly, some medium
heels, a tailored jacket, some light makeup and perfume.
Erica decided to head to the Max Club, a northside bar that
wasn’t too crowded. That night the crowd was lively if small. It didn’t
take her to long to attract the attentions of a tall blond guy. He was
wearing a subdued leather jacket and black jeans. He strode over to her
table with another bottle of the beer she was drinking.
“May I offer you another, ma’am” drawled the man in a hokey
cowboy accent. Erica smiled and gave him permission. Erica surveyed
him. He was quite well-built, with no hint of flab on his muscular
frame. He had a soft blond moustache and blue eyes. He went to get them
two more bottles after some simple small talk. His buns were tight in
the jeans and she guestimated that he could be quiite well-endowed
although that was speculation.
The dance music in the bar finally got them away from the
table. They skipped the latest by Prince and went up for a slow song.
She smiled warmly at him and noticed another heat beginning inside her
panties. He held her close and firm, and she could feel his cock
starting to grow inside his jeans. She wanted to fall for him and she
wanted to play with a cock that she didn’t tuck inside a drawer after
her orgasm.
Their body language was unmistakable as Erica pressed herself
against his growing hardness. He shifted his hips to accentuate the
pressure. Not to many songs later she agreed quickly to his suggestion
to get some air.
They walked into the parking lot and paused to take in the
beautiful night sky. At least that is why Erica paused.
“Why don’t you take your panties off?”
Erica was shocked by his command, but the heat between her legs
kept her from telling him off. She could already see his hard-on in the
tight jeans and his order struck a chord in her.
Thinking that she was probably making the biggest mistake of
her life, she smiled and began to draw her skirt upwards. She did it
slow, never taking her eyes off his face. He was motionless but his
attention was fixed on her legs. She felt the skirt slip above her
hips. She hooked a finger under each side of her panties and drew them
down her legs, bending over to do so and hide her pussy from his
immediate view. She also knew that her breasts were now displayed
prominently down the loose front of her blouse. Finally she
straightened up and after a moment pulled her skirt back into
position.
Erica walked up to him and tucked her panties in his back jeans
pocket. She returned to her original spot about six feet away. She
could play this delicious game as well.
“Caress yourself.” He smiled slightly and let his hand drape
over his bulge as it had been wanting to do for half an hour. He moved
against his cock slowly, drawing his fingers along its length. He was
teasing her. She wanted more.
“Take it out.” He paused slightly but the prize in this game
could be very great and he obviously decided to go for it. He
unbuttoned his fly slowly to reveal briefs which pushed out of the
opening from his cock’s strength. Next he hooked his thumb over the top
and pulled them down below his balls. His cock hung out in the warm
night air, hard, thick, and long. Erica could see the tip glisten with
pre-cum.
Erica walked up to him and let her fingers wrap around his
thick meet as her lips drove to his. His tongue split her lips and
teeth. Its length surprised her as they caressed each other’s tongue.
His cock was hot and throbbing with his heartbeat. She felt like he was
consuming her through their passionate kiss. Having his cock pressing
against her stomach was not good enough. She wanted it filling her
pussy.
His fingers crept to the hem of her skirt and he raised it
easily until it lay bunch over her hips. Erica lowered his cock to the
right height and pulled it into her until she felt she could take no
more meat. He held it inside her as he renewed his kissing with
strength.
Finally his hips began to stroke in and out of her, throwing
her back and forwards with his thrusts, but never letting his cock slip
completely out of her soaked and steaming cunt. He was fucking her to
the bass beat of the club, clearly audible out in the parking lot.
He finally drew back from their kiss, leaving Erica panting for
air. His hands slipped around her bare ass and he doubled his pumping
rhythm. Erica moaned and tried to keep in the best position for deepest
entry. Her breath was short and ragged.
His fingers squeezed her cheeks and slowly moved closer to her
asshole. Erica loved the feel of double penetration and she began to
breathe him encouragement to explore her backdoor.
His fingers accepted the challenge gladly and she whimpered as
they began to penetrate her behind. The exposure to the outside world
and his fingers caused her aching pussy to convulse in orgasm. Her
gripping cunt walls brought him off as well, his thrusts including
jumps and jerks as she felt his come coat her insides.
She slowly withdrew from his embrace and felt his still hard
cock slide from her pussy. She slipped her skirt back into position
and snatched her panties from his pocket. With a big smile she zipped
him up and led him back to her car. She sat down and started the car
noting with pleasure that her skirt had ridden up. When she spread her
legs her pussy came out to be admired.
A quick start and they were headed out to the outerbelt highway
around the city. It didn’t take long to find a sparse road and Erica
…End of the part1. To be continued..

Ladies Can The

Administrator — Sun, 18 Oct 2009 08:40:01 +0000

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..

Administrator — Wed, 30 Sep 2009 08:55:01 +0000

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She Drew Me In

Administrator — Sun, 02 Aug 2009 08:46:01 +0000

– a poem -

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

The Scent of Norma

Administrator — Wed, 22 Jul 2009 09:19:01 +0000

Some of the courses one is required to take in college are absolutely
unreal! Sociology is one of them. Sitting and trying to feign attentiveness
while listening to some professor pedantically drone on about “Modes of
Alienation” is surely beyond the threshold of endurance. As such, thoughts and
eyes tend to wander to more stimulating subjects. My preoccupation in
Sociology II was Norma.
I had met Norma through a mutual friend at the beginning of the semester.
When we discovered that we both had the same class, we naturally gravitated
towards each other’s familiar territory, sitting side-by-side in the same row.
Norma was slim and leggy; her short hair was of a nondescript brownish hue.
Her unencumbered breasts were small and she had a compact little tush which was
invariably ensconced in tight-fitting, faded jeans. She wore no make-up and I
never saw her in a dress or skirt. Often, she’d sport a purple scarf about her
head, effectively framing her face in a manner quite pleasing. Perhaps her most
striking physical attribute was her hands, pale and long-fingered, with
shortly-cropped nails. She probably could have been a marvelous keyboard
virtuoso. The whole demeanor of her gazelle-like being was decidedly hoydenish;
sort of a willowy Jamie Lee Curtis type if quantification was necessary.
Of singular interest to me was the fact that she never used perfume of any
sort. Yet sitting beside Norma, especially on a dank, humid day, I’d perceive a
decided redolence about her. How could this be described? Musky? No, musty
might possibly be more accurate. The closest I could compare Norma’s olfactory
aura to would be that of jonquils. This scent had a profound influence upon me;
throughout most of the class I’d be burdened with a massive erection. Later,
when time came for a piss-break, I noted that the end of my cock
was wet with the glaire of arousal.
Norma was definitely an unconventional sort; latter-day hippie should well
suffice to describe her. Every so often, she’d punctuate innocuous conversation
with non sequiturs such as “Damn cold makes my nipples hard!” and “Can you loan
me a dime for the tampon-machine?” Parenthetically, now that I think of it, she
never did pay back any of lo, those many dimes she borrowed.
Amongst a group, she tended to be rather reticent and introspective,
electing to keep her own counsel. It was only when we were alone, and others
had departed a lunch-table discussion, that she’d whisper an opinion on the
topic(s) of discourse: usually a sotto “My ass!” or drawn-out “Bulllllshiiiit!”
delivered disdainfully from the side of her mouth.
Despite the fact that Norma (or was it just her scent?) was a constant
source of distraction for me, I never made any moves to get intimate with her.
I liked things just as they were; Norma was a friend, a pal. Perhaps
subliminally I was a bit intimidated by Norma. Her inherent assertiveness
frustrated any overtures, sexual or otherwise. She was also five inches taller
than me.
It was just before Christmas vacation that Norma acted out of character. It
was the first time I had ever seen her wear a skirt, a full pleated affair in
some vaguely familiar tartan. At the end of Sociology II, as we stood up,
gathering our books, she quite casually said: “Well, what the hell, have a
happy holiday,” and planted a kiss full on my lips. For the briefest of
microseconds, I felt the tip of her tongue caress my mouth. With perfect
aplomb, she tossed a coat about her shoulders and left the classroom.
Needless to say, I could hardly keep my mind on the Coriolis Effect which
was being deliberated upon in my next Oceanography class. My thoughts were all
of Norma, that free-spirited, insouciant Lady of The Jonquils.
When the lecture was finally over and I made my way to the parking lot, I
spied Norma, leaning against a wall, smoking a cigarette. She smiled at me.
“Miriam couldn’t give me a lift home. How about giving me one?” We walked
silently together to my old Subaru, the redoubtable “Silver Wraith.” The air
was still and dry; the sky a transparent grey, so characteristic of cheek-
reddening New England winters.
Norma lived quite far from school, in a part of town I was unfamiliar with.
Getting to her home was exasperating; she appeared to have an almost dyslexic
concept of right and left. As we drove, I learned that her roommate Miriam had
left for a holiday visit with her parents in Bangor.
We ultimately pulled up to an old building which had as a facade an
interesting tracery of ironwork. As she kneeled over the back of her seat,
scrambling for her books, she offhandedly asked: “Care to come up and have some
hot chocolate? It’s good stuff. Comes from Holland. A real Dutch Treat.”
“Sure” I answered, and followed her to the door. As she walked up the
stairs before me, my gaze was fixed on the creases behind her kneecaps which
opened and closed with each step.
Her apartment was (how can one put it tactfully?) a mess. An eclectic
mixture of reprocessed Victoriana, Japanese boutique, and neo-Haight-Ashbury.
“Hey Tweezer!” she yelled out to a battered birdcage, large enough to
comfortably house an albatross. In it chirped a finch of some nondescript sort,
while the cage bottom was covered with sheets of newspaper printed in Cyrillic.
“Make yourself comfortable while I heat up the chocolate” Norma directed as
she disappeared into the kitchen. There wasn’t much room to sit down anywhere
except on a large threadbare sofa, which I doubt had ever seen better days.
Piled haphazardly on the chairs were books of all sorts, with titles like: “The
Works of Virgil Finlay,” “The Kalmyk Mongols,” “Les Fleurs du Mal,” “Sundials,”
“Memoirs of a Tattoist,” etc. In all, a most diverse assortment of interests.
When Norma returned from the kitchen, I noticed that she had changed her
clothes. She was again wearing her accustomed jeans and a black tank-top. I had
never before seen her bare arms. I was mildly shocked to note that her
underarms were unshaven; adorned with sparse wisps of silky auburn down. She
was also barefoot. Her feet were tiny and well-formed, without any of the usual
calluses heels inflict on a woman. She looked adorable; women are so sylph-like
when barefoot.
She carried a large stoneware mug in each hand, steaming with the frothy,
fragrant chocolate. Handing me one, she announced: “Music we need,” and walked
over to a cassette player. I expected something weird, but was surprised to
hear the strains of bossa-nova and the voice of Astrud Gilberto.
As we sat, we drank the chocolate and smoked, a kindred vice which somehow
branded us as being of like kidney. Our conversation consisted of the usual
mundacities: school, friends, relations, etc. I found myself becoming warmer,
doubtless because of the beverage and the fact that she kept the flat at a
temperature amenable to her finch. Rivulets of sweat coursed down my sides from
my armpits. I wondered if she detected the rutting-odor of my arousal.
…End of the part1. To be continued..

Midnight Storm

Administrator — Mon, 20 Jul 2009 09:45:02 +0000

Darkness. Punctuated occasionally by the flashes from a distant
thunderstorm, it is folded over your eyes like a heavy layer of black
velvet. The humid night air caresses your face like a lover’s hand, and
you can smell the storm as it approaches.

You stand out on the porch in front of your remote farmhouse,
wondering how long it will be before the lights are restored, banishing
the night again for a bit. A quick breeze toys with your hair and your
skirt. You shiver slightly at the chill running down your spine, and
cross your arms over your breasts.

Off in the distance, now, you see the headlights of an approaching
car. You feel the tension creep over you as the driver picks his way
down the poorly-maintained road that leads nowhere but to you. Alone
tonight, your retired parents in town for dinner with friends, where
they will spend the night, and you are aware of your vulnerability.

A low roll of thunder distracts you, as it crawls over you slowly,
reminding you of the incredible power of nature’s display, making its
way across the flat countryside in the night.

You can hear the car’s engine now. It purrs quietly, revealing a
pent-up power that provides a counterpoint to the uncontrolled energy of
the storm on the horizon. A flash of lightning illuminates the vehicle,
and you note that it is a fine European make, black as the night, with
nobody within but the driver, whose features you cannot yet make out.

Turning the final corner, the car stops in front of you, the engine
goes silent, and the lights go dark. You hear the door open and another
flash of lightning lets you at last see the stranger’s face. Something
inside you cries out, and you feel your knees go to jelly at the sight.
He is everything that has ever attracted you — finely-styled black
hair, a proud but not arrogant face, piercing grey eyes. Eyes that are
directed straight at you, and which you can feel boring through you,
even in that scant instant of light.

Footsteps in the gravel. A rich, low voice, “Hello, miss. Could
you help me, please?” You feel a fluttering in your gut at the sound,
and your throat seems constricted as hard as a rock.

“Sure, uhm, what do you need?” you finally force out. You feel the
porch move slightly as he pulls himself up the stairs by the hand rail.
His footsteps on the plain decking of the porch are hard, rapping, and
you want them to come closer to you.

“I am lost. Between the storm and the map that I have, I took a
bad turn a while back and now have no idea at all where I am.” His
speech carries a faint, aristocratic accent. Still the fluttering
inside you continues, and you can see his shadowy outline against the
blackness beyond the house.

“Oh, okay… Come on inside. I’ve got a map.” You turn and open
the door, going into the house. It is even darker in here, if that were
possible, and he hesitates at the doorway.

“Can you turn on a light?”

“Oh — sorry. The storm knocked out the lights. I think I’ve got
a flashlight around here someplace. Okay?”

“Sure. I’ll wait here. Don’t want to trip over a lamp or
whatever, you know.” You can practically hear his smile.

“Yeah, uhm, I’ll be right back.” You make your way into the
kitchen, where the flashlight is kept in a drawer. Turning it on, you
retrace your steps, squinting slightly in the relative brightness of the
beam.

As you return to the front room, he advances into the house and
closes the door behind him. “Much better,” he says approvingly. “Now I
can see.” His eyes are drinking you in, and you feel a quiver pass
through you, wondering at the true meaning of his words.

Setting the flashlight down on the coffee table, you pull open the
drawer in the end table to retrieve the promised map. “Here, have a
seat,” you say, motioning at the sofa. You sit beside him and spread
the map before you.

This close to him, you can smell the sharp tang of his aftershave
and feel the warmth emanating from him. You point out some landmarks to
him on the map.

“Ah, yes, I see now. I went wrong here,” he says, and points at a
highway intersection miles away.

“And you’re here, now,” you say. A startlingly brilliant flash of
lightning makes you jump, and the instant reply of thunder booms between
your ears with a voice of unstoppable strength. You hear sheets of rain
hit the house almost immediately.

Recovering, you point out the place on the map to him again. Your
finger is trembling, and you look at him. He is smiling at your
reaction to the storm. “Caught me by surprise,” you say, returning the
smile.

“Same here. Well, I suppose I should be off now. Thank you very
much…”
…End of the part1. To be continued..

Miscellaneous snippets

Administrator — Sun, 12 Jul 2009 08:45:02 +0000

It is a cool spring evening..and i am walking down a beach near my home, i
am holding sue’s hand, and her head is resting on my shoulder. I am sure we mu
st look like siemese twins to the people who pass us by. But neither of us rea
lly care…Inside i feel a warmt, that is centered at my solar plexus and radia
tes through out my body. I really love sue, I have loved her from the first mo
nent i set eyes on her. I remember that first time, i spent hours just staring
into her eyes. As we walk on the beach i slowly massage sue’s hand with the f
ingers of my hand. I suddenly stop, and slowly lift her chin up with my hand,
we look into each others eyes, a message that only our hearts shall ever know,
passes between us. Our kiss is slow and gentle, and very deep..her mouths tast
es very sweet. we consume each other in our hunger. i remove my lips from her
and bend my head a little lower, and my lips leave a wet silken trail across h
er chin and down her throat. a deep moan escapes sues lips. in the mean time,
our arms have not been idle, and we are entwined within each others arms. our
s arms are slowly caressing each others body. We stop for a moment so that i c
an spred the blanket i carry over my shoulder on the sand, so that we can have
something to lie on. I lift sue off her feet and slowly lower her onto the bla
nket. i then rest on my elbows above her, i take her upper lip in mine, and sl
owly caress it with my tongue and lips, then i decide to head higher, i lick a
trail across her nose, at which point she giggles, and i smile, then higher sti
ll to her forehead, which i gentlely kiss, then my tongues moves all across her
face, her eyes, her cheeks, her ears, her moans of pleasure grow louder and lo
uder. Then i am back at her lips again. After a while she moves down my neck
and her teeth are suddenly at my throat, which i bare to her, showing her my tr
ust. she gentlely nips my throat, and caresses it with her tongue and lips, th
e sensation is exquisite and it is now my turn to moan. i slowly untie her bat
hing suit top, with one hand while i balance over her with the other, her brea
st are not large, but they are full and they do not sag. i take her nipples in
my mouth and slowly rotate them back and forth with my lips and my teeth. sue
’s moans grow louder and louder. i take her nipple out of my mouth and slowly
caress it with my tongue. I then switch to the next nipple and begin all over
again. after a while i use my mouth to suck a trail down sue’s stomach, my ton
gue takes a short stop in her belly buttom, and again i make her giggle, I the
n move on. I reach the top of her bathing suit bottom. I take it between my t
eeth, and pull it half way down her legs. My mouth then goes back up her legs
to her pubic mound, i rub my nose and my face in the hair there, taking in the
rich musky scent. i then move my lips to the top of her opening, i gentlely li
ck the little nib of flesh that is there, sue’s moans are ever increasing. I t
hen use my lips to suck on the lips between her legs, then i poke my tongue ins
ide. The taste is salty and smooth..she grabs my head in her hands, and she mo
ves my head up and down, showing me where she needs me most, and i suck and lic
k, and nibble, as she goes into a frenzy, and she floods my face with her lubri
cants as she cums. Then she holds me tight and kisses me deeply, she says ‘tha
nk you, that was good’, i tell her ‘i like your taste, it was my pleasure’, she
replies with a wicked smile, ‘ i like my taste on your tongue’ , ‘hmmmmm’, ‘I
love you sue!, maybe more than i should love anyone’, she says ‘I love you more
than i can say with words, lets go inside’. I pick her up in my arms leaving
her bathing suit and the blanket on the sand. I walk slowly down the beach. I
am not looking where i walk, i am kissing sue, and my feet are taking me where
they know i want to go. They take me all the way to my bed room. I place sue
on my bed, i look at her beautiful face in the light of the moon shining thru
my big picute windows. She is the most beautiful woman in the world to me. I
am the most lucky man in the world to have her love me, and to be able to love
her. she tells me ‘you lie down’, so i lie down and she gets on top of me. Sh
e pulls down my swimming trunks. She takes me in her hands, and stokes me up a
nd down, ‘hmmmm, that feels so good sue’, ’shhh, just lie back and enjoy it’, s
he slowly bends over me, and engulfs my length within her warm wet mouth. i mo
an softly. she then strokes and caresses me with her mouth, then she use her t
eeth and i quickly draw my breath through my teeth with a sharp hiss. This is
so good. then she raise her head and says ‘i am ready’. Sue is a virgin, and
i would be her first. I wanted to give her as much pleasure with as little pai
n as possible. We switch places with sue below me. lying on her back, with he
r legs apart, and me on my knees between them. I used one hand to hold the hea
d of my penis at the gates of her vagina , and with the other hand i slowly rub
bed her clit. sue was softly moaning, with her eyes closed. I slowly moved th
rough the gates. i felt the resistence, and saw sue close her eyes tighter, i
pushed a little harder, then a little harder. sue was still maoning, but her
hands were tightly hold the sheets. This was painfull for her. I could not do
this, it was too painfull for her, i quickly withdrew . sue said ‘ i want you
, i want you now, do it quickly and the pain will pass’….i put my penis at th
e opening of her vagina again, and started to slowly push, and again sue shut
her eyes tightly closed, and grabs the sheets, i loosened her grip on the sheet
with one hand, and held her tightly, then in the next moment i plunged deep wi
thin her, she screamed out as i broke her hymen. i let go of her hand and enci
rcled her with my arms, she said ‘i love you’ and i replied with ‘ i love you’,
and i never said any words more true. i slowly started to move in side of her
, and she slowly started to move. I could feel her tightening her internal mus
cles agianst me, causing more friction. I moved slowly in and out of her, in a
nd out, in and out, then i started to slowly move faster and faster, and her mo
ans grew louder and louder, i was plunging faster and faster within her, when s
he came with a load scream, ‘I love you’, then in a few second more i was flood
ing her with my semen as i also came. ‘I love you sue’. We held each other ti
ghtly as i spurted, over and over again within her core. ‘god, i love you sue’
…and she replied ‘and i love you to, and will for all time’ Then we held eac
h other, waiting for our energies to be restored for the next round or lovemaki
ng.
The End.

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..

The Itch

Administrator — Fri, 08 May 2009 09:22:02 +0000

Janet couldn’t sleep.
It might have been the heat or it might have been her roommate’s snoring
coming through the paper thin wall or it might have been that her
shit-for-brains ex-boyfriend had walked out on her a week ago for the last
time. Not that she missed him. Much. It could have been any of those things.
But it wasn’t.
You see, she had this itch.
It was a very aggravating itch, and it made her restless. It was located
in a very special place, high up between her thighs. It was a very deep itch,
and would require very deep scratching. Of course, she could scratch it
herself, as she had done on several occasions before, but her restlessness
was reenforced by the sound of gentle snores from the room next to hers.
It would be oh so much better to have somebody scratch it for her.

Allen had always been a good friend of hers, but she had preferred to keep
it at a friendship level. When mutual financial circumstances had made
sharing an apartment seem like a very good idea, she had proclaimed to the
rafters that the ONLY thing they would share would be the bills. Allen had
agreed good-naturedly, as usual. For six months and more, it worked out just
fine. They respected each other’s privacy, always one managing to find
something to do elsewhere when the other brought home a date, etc. They grew
closer, almost like brother and sister. Consummating this relationship almost
seemed like breaking a taboo.
But happy-go-lucky Allen had never noticed the sidelong looks Janet
sometimes snuck at him. At the curves of his well-muscled chest and the bulge
in the tight fitting jeans he sometimes wore. To put it nicely, he was built
like a brick shithouse. And she was sure she had caught him looking at her
the same way more than once, though he always pretended to be looking at
something else instead. But no words were ever said about them, that barrier
never breached.
But now old shit-for-brains was out of her life for good. And she lay in
the darkness empty, lonely, and horny as hell.
She tossed and turned on top of the covers in the stifling heat, clad only
in panties and a long T-shirt. Her mind tossed and turned even more
violently, tormented by her aching need for a man and the maddening closeness
of one. And the fear of disrupting a fine friendship.
The need won. She sat up on and slowly pulled her T-shirt off. Her nipples
were fully erect and incredibly sensitive. The cotton fabric of the T-shirt
felt like sandpaper against them. She got up and pulled her panties off,
which joined the shirt in a pile at the foot of the bed. Completely nude, she
felt curiously free. The warm, stifling air in the room seemed to caress her
sensuously, exciting her all the more. Squaring her shoulders and biting her
lip, she gathered up all her courage and started for the door.
Dear roomie, she thought wryly, you’re in for one hell of a surprise.

She opened the door to Allen’s room slowly, careful of the squeaky hinge
at the bottom. She peered in.
Moonlight spilled across the bed from the open window at the far end of
the room. It was cooler here, but still quite warm. Allen lay on his back, a
sheet rumpled around his hips. He had stopped snoring, his breathing deep and
regular, as he deeply slept.
She crossed the room to his bedside, horrendously aware of her nakedness,
and feeling more than a little foolish. Stop this right now, her rational
mind ordered, go back to bed immediately before you embarass yourself beyond
all recall.
But the itch spoke with a much louder voice.
She knelt by his bed and placed a gentle hand on his arm. Softly she
whispered his name into his ear. No response. Dead to the world, as usual.
Not that she could blame him. He worked in construction, and that was very
hard work indeed.
She ran a hand along his arm, feeling the muscles there. Her gaze traveled
to the sheet. A sudden, mischevious thought occured to her, one that she
wouldn’t have even considered in the rational light of day. She grabbed the
sheet by one corner, and slowly pulled it down.
As she suspected, he wasn’t wearing shorts.
She gazed in silent wonder at his penis, laying to one side in its black,
curly tuft of pubic hair. It was… sizable, as she has always suspected from
the everpresent bulge he sported even when wearing loose pants. Hung, to put
it crudely. Even before she thought of it, she reached out to touch it.
She fondled it gently, feeling its limp weight. Allen remained oblivious,
fortunately. If he awoke right now, he’d explode, she thought. Then she
banished that thought to the back of her mind, where it belonged.
And then all thoughts dissapeared momentarily as his penis began to
stiffen in her hand.
She jerked back and watched in silent amazement as it grew, slowly,
jerkily straightening from its curved position to lay flat and hard against
his belly, pulsing slightly.
Wow, she thought, gazing upon the magnificent sight.
She listened to his breathing for a long moment until she convinced
herself he was still asleep. It was as if her need had somehow affected him
even in his sleep. She had fondled men’s penises before while they slept, but
this was the first time she had suceeded in getting a rise out of one.
Horrible joke, she thought giddly to herself as she reached for it again.
He was hard all right, hard as a rock. Almost absently she ran her thumb
along the smooth, silky shaft and she wondered what it must be like to carry
all of one’s equipment on the outside. With such easy access, no wonder men
were so horny all the time. She was certain she would be.
Allen had a magnificent cock, easily larger and heavier than her old
boyfriend’s. If he denied this to her, she would probably never be able to
sleep again. After all, it was the eighties. It was perfectly all right for
friends to have sex if they wanted to. And oh God, how she wanted to…
A low quiet moan escaped Allen’s lips, startling her out of her reverie.
His hips shifted slightly, then lay to rest again. Every instinct screamed
for her to get out, but she was rooted to the spot. No way could she leave
now. If she wanted any sleep tonight, she would have to finish what she
started. If he woke up, so be it. She was sure he wouldn’t object too
strenuously now. She hoped.
She shifted her grip on his cock lower down and leaned across his hips,
bringing her face closer. She stared at it for a moment and then stuck her
tongue out, touching the tip gently.
She knew from past experience with other men that a teasing touch would
jolt him, and probably awaken him as well. So she swirled her tongue around
the head of his cock, keeping full contact. She heard him moan again and then
sigh. Around and around she swirled her tongue, feeling the roughness on top
of the head, and the smoothness below. She ran it slowly along the smooth
hardness of the shaft, down almost to the base then back you again. She could
feel slight movement beneath her, as his hips began to move up and down in
slow rhythm.
She ran her free hand down her own stomach, to the mass of her pube, and
placed a finger up against the swollen knob of her clitoris, slowly stroking
it. At the same time, she plunged his cock into her mouth as deep as it would
go.
It filled her mouth completely, with a fair portion of its length left to
go. Her other hand cupped his balls, and she could feel them tighten as she
pulled the cock out of her mouth, sucking gently. Again and again she plunged
it in, and now she could feel definite movement beneath her as his hips began
slowly pumping. She heard his breathing grow rapid, though he was still
wrapped deep within his dreams.
The itch, prodded by her manual stimulation, quickly grew into a tingling
then into a fire. Waves of sheer pleasure radiated from her groin and washed
over all parts of her body. Her nipples were electric, and she had to
suppress a gasp whenever they rubbed against the bed or his body.
His rapid breathing became low moans, and his hips moved more violently as
she suddenly detected a slight salty taste in her mouth. It won’t be long
now, she thought deleriously to herself, giving in to the raw, primal
sensations flooding her body.
His subconcious moans became gasps and she felt his balls clench in her
hand. His hips raised and locked as a long, half-stifled groan escaped him. A
fraction of a second later a huge amount of fluid shot into her mouth, which
she swallowed immediately. At the same time the fire in her crotch roared and
exploded once, twice, three times in a rapid succession that would have left
her gasping for breath had her mouth not already been occupied. She was very
glad she was already kneeling, as all strength had left her legs.
Slowly, Allen’s body relaxed as Janet drew back and leaned against the
bed, shivering almost uncontrollably. She was drenched in sweat. It was very
rarely she came twice like that, and three times was almost unthinkable. Her
whole body tingled and she knew her muscles would ache tomorrow. Small
price to pay for such an incredible experience.
She looked up, fully expecting Allen to be looking back at her, but to her
total astonishment, the big dummy was still asleep! Her anger was quickly
smother by bubbling laughter, which she quickly stifled. It would be a shame
to wake him now.
His breathing had returned to its previous monotonous regularity, and his
erection was just beginning to fade. She leaned over one last time and gently
kissed it just below the head. Then she pulled the sheet back over his hips
like she found it.
Her legs were still wobbly and it took three tries to stand up. Her heart
jackhammered in her chest and she suddenly felt very, very tired. At the door
she turned and looked back, seeing him still framed in the moonlight.
Goodnight, my love, she said silently, if you’re this good now, what will it
be like when you’re awake?
She almost laughed at this, knowing full well that she had done everything
herself. But next time, though, next time…
Back in her room, she pulled the T-shirt on and collapsed on top of the
bed, exhausted. Contentedly she snuggled into her pillow and fell alseep
almost instantly, dreaming very pleasant dreams indeed.
The itch troubled her no more, though it soon would again.

Early next morning, she padded around the house bleary-eyed in her robe.
Allen emerged from his bedroom just as breakfast was ready, as usual. This
time, though, she felt no irritation about it. He was already dressed, as he
would have to leave for work as soon as he was finished. He seemed even
cheerier than usual, and fell to his breakfast with gusto, asking for seconds
and thirds. Finally he was in danger of being late when he got up from the
table. He grabbed his jacket and kissed her a quick peck on the cheek. Though
hurried, he paused at the open door for a second.
“You know,” he said, seemingly puzzled, “I had the damndest dream last
night.”
Then he pulled the door shut behind him, totally missing the smile she
wore…

Mens Room

Administrator — Wed, 11 Mar 2009 08:45:01 +0000

It was a typical boring Monday morning. The weekend had come and

gone and here I was back at the “old grind”. My in-basket was

piled high with memos and junk mail to sort through. I went down

to the lounge to get my morning coffee and on my way back I

thought I would stop off at the men’s room to milk my python.

I had always dreamed of the things that could happen in the

company men’s room but today the dreams were going to be more

real than I could ever imagine.

As I walked through the door I could hear a slight moaning sound

coming from the oversized handi-capped stall at the end. At

first I thought it must have been someone who had a worse weekend

than I had. I walked over to use the urinal and after unzipping

my fly and grasping hold of my rod, it happened. Something in my

mind told me that the sound I had heard wasn’t a painful moaning

but a moaning that comes from shear erotic pleasure. Just then,

I heard it again. This time it was even more distinct than the

first time. Again it happened. By now I was more curious than a

weasel outside a chicken coop. I just had to investigate.

Without even putting my cock back in my pants, I walked to the

end stall. I gently peered through the crack in the doorway and

there sitting on the toilet seat was the cutest little blonde I

had ever laid eyes on. How she got there will continue to be a

mystery but let’s get back to things at hand. She was sitting

there with her dress pulled up and she had a large cucumber in

her right hand that she was slowly pumping in and out of her wet

crack. Her eyes were closed and she was so far into her

encounter that I really didn’t want to make myself known. I

stood there for what seemed to be an eternity. Needless to say

my limp snake had heard the call of the wild and was up and ready

for battle. It was about all I could do to hold back from

blasting a hole through that stall door. Maybe it was the sound

of my shoes on the tile floor or maybe my stifled moaning, but

she finally came back to Earth and noticed me standing outside

the stall. I thought she would scream or something terrible like

that and I had visions of the CEO coming in and firing me. But

it didn’t happen anything like that. She slowly leaned forward

and smiled as she open the door and motioned to me to come inside

and service her. Being the gentleman that I am, I couldn’t deny

her request.

After entering the stall and locking the door, I learned why she

picked that particular place. You see, the handicap stall is so

nice and roomy that we could have an orgy in there and no one

would be the wiser. She first took me by the hand and led me

…End of the part1. To be continued..

She Drew Me In

Administrator — Sat, 07 Feb 2009 10:40:02 +0000