morning.

Although the law firm was one of the oldest and most prestigious in Memphis,

Tennessee it had several financial reverses during the last three years. Up

until the arrival of the 30 year old black attorney the mood of the personnel was

decidedly on edge.

The turn about had taken place as a result of Mr. Bettis being retained by the

black employees of the Greater Louisiana Oil Company. Several of the white

officers had made rather derogatory remarks about the “black porch monkeys” under

their tutelage. As a result the black employees were on the verge of the largest

out of court settlement in the history of the country. Leading the charge and

final settlement was Mr. Jerome Bettis; former black gang member of the BGE’s and

now a up and coming young attorney; who was also the savior of the old south

white law firm of Wright & Wright.

Although the white law firm was far more racist than the Greater Louisiana Oil

Company they understood business. It was now good business to hire as a full

partner the arrogant Mr. Bettis. The good Mr. Bettis and his new friends at

Wright and Wright were due to receive their one third share of one hundred fifty

million dollars. Even the old line Southern Partners were bowing and bestowing

on Mr. Bettis anything his little black heart desired.

Mr. Bettis walked into the law library of the firm and started shaking hands with

the twelve senior partners. The patriarch of the firm, Mr. Bougehard Wright

welcomed the black upstart with open arms. “Anything that this law firm can

provide to make your work easier is at your disposal…” came the smiling

dribble.

Mr. Bettis had completed his homework on the prestigious law firm weeks ago. The

Research staff was unequaled and the talents of the support staff were the best

of any law firm in the country.

“Let me cut through the bullshit Bougehard. I will make this firm an obscene

amount of money this next twelve months and I will demand perfection…..and

total obedience. First I need a top notch assistant….that will be Mrs. Anna

Belvoir.. That is satisfactory to you isn’t it Bougehard ?” he arrogantly asked.

The senior partner felt his face become red with anger. Anna Belvoir was the

most senior; most competent para legal the firm possessed and she was considered

the private property of the senior partner. Her long lean frame was topped by

beautiful long red hair which she usually wore in a severe bun. Although she

usually wore conservative suits most of the young studs in the law office noticed

the 36-26-36 sleek frame. Her 36C breasts were showing only the slightest of

droop; and were topped by rock hard pencil sized nipples that became hard at the

slightest measure of arousal.

Since her husband Jim, an overworked accountant seldom found the time, energy, or

…End of the part1. To be continued..

justice I have to be a great deal more explicit that I would normally prefer. I

prefer to flirt, both with men and with the details of my adventures. It seems

much more appropriate to say I spent the night with someone than to say

specifically what we did. I will try to overcome this as I tell you what

happened. If I seem to be skirting something, you have to be willing to interrupt

me with questions. I may evade, but I will never lie. Anyway, with that in mind,

the story really begins on a Friday night a few months back. The Chief, my

affectionate name I gave my husband, had some friends over. I was getting in

late from a conference and it was clearly his party. I knew nearly everyone

there, but they were his friends. I came in about 10:00 that night. I’d slept

on the train, so I was still fairly fresh. There they all were in the dining

room, playing cards. The Chief gave me a big hug when I came in and carried my

suitcase up to the bedroom. I washed my face and slipped out of my travel

clothes into the kind of thing I normally hang around the house in, a shirt of

the Chief’s and tights (white and blue respectively.) I’d eaten so I just nibble

at the snacks and watched them play. I stood or sat behind the Chief and one or

two of the other players seemed to have trouble focusing on their cards. I’d been

behaving myself for the past few days and this tickled me. Thinking to myself,

It’s all in a good cause (the Chief’s winnings) I would stretch or walk around or

occasionally pick things up off of the floor. They seemed to enjoy it and I

certainly did. Around midnight about half of the crew left and when the game had

gotten down to 4 players, I sat in and became a fifth. They were betting quarters

mostly and I sat down with around $20 and began to play. I was about $5 ahead

when I began to lose steadily. One of the other players ran out of money and

left. That had been the pattern. When you ran out of the money you had on the

table, you were done. This gave the game a quality that the Chief described as

friendly. There were limits on how fast you could raise, there were limits on

the number of raises, and what they described as table stakes. No checks, no

I.O.U.s, no big debts. The game had gone on for a couple of years, losing very

few players and the ‘friendly’ atmosphere was probably responsible. So, here I am

down to about $5.00 and another player went bust and left. I’d lost about 8

hands in a row. I started trying to bet conservatively until I felt my luck

change. That helped me outlast one more player who also left. It was about 1:30

in Saturday morning now. I lost all but my last dollar betting on a full house of

Queens and fives. It seemed like a conservative, safe bet, but here I was down

to 4 quarters. One went into the pot for my ante and I picked up a pair of

kings. There were 2 quarters in raises to me which I covered and I found myself

looking at a third king and two aces in my draw. I bet the quarter I had left,

the Chief raised one quarter (He’d drawn three cards) and J, the other player

raised one. So, here I was with a winning hand and nothing left to bet. Or was

I really down to nothing. I grinned at J, moved my eyes to the Chief and somehow

or other managed to say with a straight face, I’ll cover the pot with my shirt if

I lose.

The Chief was drinking something as I said. How he managed to not spray it all

over the cards, I’ll never know. He was close to losing it. When I say losing

it, I mean laughing, not being angry. He seemed to see this as just one more of

my flirtings which rather than growing resigned to, he has come to enjoy over

…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..

But I did stop. I haven’t picked up a hitchhiker since I was in
college. I always figured that a cute girl standing by the side
of the road with her thumb in the breeze had to have a 250 pound
boyfriend in the bushes, ready to commandeer my car at
knifepoint.

I can see from a distance that you are cute, your long brown hair
whipping about your face in the wind. As I drive closer, I can
see your faded cutoffs, cut so short that the cheeks of your ass
are peeking out invitingly.

You are wearing a pale yellow t-shirt, the veteran of many
washings, faded to the color of tapioca. Your breasts,
unencumbered by a bra, poke proud erect nipples at all who pass
by. Even from a distance I can see the dark circles through the
thin shirt.

You are smiling.

I stop next to you and roll down the window.

“Where are you headed?”

“It doesn’t really matter. Can you take me?”

I swallow. “Sure. Hop in.” You slide into the passenger seat
and I am suddenly conscious of your smell; the smell of sun and
sweat on your buttery skin. I realize that you have slid closer
to me than is really necessary. I swallow again.

“What’s your name?”

“Lisa.” You don’t ask mine. Out of the corner of my eye I can
see your breasts jiggling slightly as we ride. You catch my
sidelong glance and smile slightly. I look away, embarrassed.

“You don’t usually pick people up, do you.” It is a statement,
not a question. I look back at you, more directly this time, and
see that you have turned ever so slightly towards me, and have
inched almost imperceptibly closer. I feel my mouth go slightly
dry. I cannot keep from looking at your breasts.

I begin to imagine…No! Things like this just don’t happen!
There is always a catch. I feel a light sweat on my upper lip.
I roll down the window. We ride for a moment in silence.

You cross your legs and you have moved slightly closer. Your
left hand is on the seat next to your thigh. With another
sidelong glance I can see that the top button on your cutoffs is
undone. Was it like that before? I realize that you are looking
intently at my face. Do you see what I am thinking?

If I move the slightest bit, I am sure my erection will burst
through my pants. So I sit very still and drive carefully and
slowly. Suddenly I realize I am going barely twenty miles per
hour. It seems as though we are barely moving; the fields to
each side of us creep by.

There is a wide spot ahead, next to a broad expanse of tall
grass.

“Could we stop for a bit?” you ask.

“If you like,” I reply, sure that you can hear my heart pounding.

We stop and you are out of the car, skipping through the tall
grass of the field laughing and turning around, your eyes
sparkling. Cautiously I follow you. You come back to me,
breathless, your sun-sweat smell nearly overpowering me.
Watching you in the grass I am nearly overcome with desire and I
and I can think of nothing but you.

You stand very close to me, looking up into my face. The impish
smile nearly disappears as you stand very close to me, searching
my face. I stroke your cheek with my palm and gently bend down
to kiss your soft, full lips. Suddenly your arms are around me,
your mouth wide open, tongue probing. Your body presses
insistently against me, your hands are moving up and down my
back, stroking my ass and the backs of my thighs. I am certain
my body is going to explode.

Suddenly you stop. You draw slightly away from me. Your cheeks
are slightly flushed, and you are breathing heavily through
parted lips. Your firm breasts strain against the flimsy t-
shirt, erect nipples challenging me. You cross your arms and
reach slowly for the bottom of your shirt and pull it over your
head.

Your breasts, now free in the warm sunshine, invite me. I catch
my breath, a half sob, really, as I gaze at you there. You come
to me again and take my head in both your hands, drawing my mouth
first to one breast, then the other. Greedily I run my tongue
over the nipples, feeling them harden at the touch. You pull my
head harder to you, as though you want me to devour you. I am
aware of the salty-sweet taste of your sweat. Your breast fills
…End of the part1. To be continued..

He looked up as she did and their eyes held each other just a little
too long, self-consciously. He smiled at her and she felt a little
embarassed. So she looked down and smiled, brushing the bangs out
of her eyes as she looked up again.

He turned his attention to the pack of Juicy Fruits. As he picked
it up and swiped it across the barcode reader, she could see his
rather muscular hand ever so gently squeezing the pack. She then
pretended the totals display was the center of her attention by looking
up at it, but she could care less how much the cost was. She could
feel him pretending not to watch her, and her cheeks flushed red with
that knowledge. As the numbers flashed on the display, she reached
into the back pocket of her tight-fitting jeans and pulled out her
coin purse.

She then noticed that he was standing there absentmindedly gripping
the pack with his thumb and forefinger of his right hand, moving it
up and down the pack, smoothing out the slight crease he had put in it.
She had become somewhat mezmerized by this motion he was making; he
noticed her interest. She shook her head a little to snap herself
out of it.

As she handed over the coins and withdrew her hand, her fingernails
brushed against the palm of his hand. This was partly accidental, partly
her intention. His hand trembled a little with this exquisite sensation.
He handed back her change and the receipt and made sure his fingertips
brushed the inside of her upturned palm, too. Her face broke into a
wide smile as he did this, and she bit her lower lip to try to hide her
smile at this gesture.

She turned to leave and just as abruptly turned back around holding the
pack and said, “Do you want a stick?” At first, he wasn’t sure if he
had heard her correctly. Then he smiled and said, “Yeah, sure”. There
was no one else in line.

At first she had problems starting the pull-tear that would uncap the
pack. He noticed her difficulty and said, “Here, let me help.” He
reached over and held her hand holding the pack and used his other
hand to start the tear-cord. She noticed his hand over hers was so
much bigger than her own, but it was warm and soft. She had leaned
over toward him during this operation, intently watching him pick at
the tear-cord, and the ends of her soft hair were dancing on his forearm
sending warm sensuous waves through his neck and shoulders. He could
smell a wonderful fragrance around her, of clean soap and lilacs. He
wondered what it would be like to nuzzle the back of her ear.

He withdrew a stick and handed it to her. Then he took one for himself.
At that moment, he realized that he was still holding her hand, and he
let his fingertips “accidentally” glide down the back of her hand as his
hand fell away. He popped the stick in his mouth and began chewing.
She did the same. She stuffed the pack into the pocket of her jeans;
he noticed how tight they were.

She smiled and said thanks and out of shyness again started to walk
away. He smiled and watched her as she left and said, “Come by again
anytime you need help opening something up.”

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…

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.

–

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!

–

Suddenly, something lands on my back. Well, at first I thought that
something had landed, but as I turn around to look, I see that a beautiful
woman has softly placed her hand right between my shoulderblades.
No doubt my mouth falls open, for not only is she extremely beautiful,
she has also surprised the hell out of me. “I saw you walking,”
she says, softly, coyly… “I saw you walking, and I couldn’t help
myself… I just had to follow you…” She looks down at her feet,
and then up at me, through her eyelashes. I think of what to say
for a moment… it just seems that she is the most beautiful creature
I’ve seen anywhere. She’s got long dark blonde hair, her eyes are
green, and her lips, which are slowly working back and forth over each
other, are red. Her pink toungue quickly darts out to grab something
invisible off of her lip (no, she’s not a frog…). Her ample
breasts, encased in her white tank top, are slowly moing up and
down with her breath. Her waist is slim…. no extra poundage that
I can see. Her hips are medium-sized to large, and her legs are long
and smooth.

“Well… perhaps you’d care to walk with me…?” I finally get
the words out after what seems like an eternity of deliberation.

So we walk for a while, occasionally sharing words, savouring nature
all the while. Occasionally she glances up at me… more often than
not, we make eye contact. More often than not, she breaks away first…
but as time goes on, she gets bolder, and the gaze is held for longer
times. She is looking more beautiful by the minute… and soon it
appears that we are savouring the beauty of each other more and more,
and the importance of the nature around is slowly getting less and less.

Eventually, we get to another clearing. Only God knows how far
we’ve walked together, or exactly where we are… However, I can hear
the faint babbling of a creek. I know I’m not all that lost.

She moves to the center of the clearing, and stands with her back
twoards me. I walk up to her, as softly as I can… but it looks
like she knows I’m there, for when I get within about three feet of her,
she turns to face me. We look into each others eyes… for what seems
like another eternity, we gaze. Finally, she breaks the gaze… she
half-closes her eyes, and swiftly closes the distance between us.
She comes to me, and as I am about to put my arms around her, I hear
her whisper something that sounds like “I need you…”

As the hug extends itself in time, I start to run my hands up and
down her back. She hold me tighter, and I give her a squeeze… She
starts to do the same to me. Convieniently, her tank top is outside of her
khaki shorts, so I take the invitation, and place my hands on the bare
flesh of her back. It is smooth and cool… I think that it is much
unlike my own must be. I run my hands along her spine… the groove
that it makes is well defined. She pulls my black shirt out of
my khaki shorts, and she begins to feel my back as well. It is heaven.

I change to running my hands in circles. Eventually I get to her bra,
and, after a moment’s thought, I deftly undo it. Surprisingly
enough, she doesn’t pull away… she keeps her arms around me, and
whimpers just a little bit — almost inaudibly. Her touch gets stronger,
more insistent… I move away just a little bit, in order to look at her.
Everything about her says ‘YES!’… her eyes gaze soulfully into
mine, and her hands reach out to rest on my shoulders. Then they swiftly
move to the buttons of my shirt, which they deftly undo… she puts
her hands inside my shirt and hugs me again. I hear a definite ‘mmmmm….’
as I raise her tank top as far as it’ll go. She obligingly steps
away breifly, and allows me to whisk the garment above her shoulders
and off, onto the ground. Her bra falls to the ground as well, and
her gorgeous breasts shake free. I place my hands around them,
lovingly cupping them… my jaw must be at my feet, for she whispers
“So you like them?” I nod my head, looking at her only briefly.

I fall to my knees, kissing and licking her breasts. She shucks
my shirt for me, and begins to knead my shoulders.

After a while, I move my ministrations to her stomach. The warmth
coming from her lower regions is palpable now; I can feel it on my face
as my tounge nudges into her bellybutton. I move lower, I undo the top
buttons of her shorts, I undo the bottom buttons. Her shorts fall to
her feet (with a little help from me), and suddenly she is wearing
nothing but bikini panties, shoes, and a necklace. My hand reaches up
to cup her mound, and I look up… her eyes are closed, and her
head is tilted back in ecstasy. My hand, now moving with a will of its
own, pulls her panties down around her ankles. Her vagina is now
radiating heat like a heatlamp… I knelt on the ground, looking up
at this beautiful woman. I lowered my head, licking her, her wet
sweet on my tounge. Palms cradling her hips, I held her, raised her
like a chalice, lips pressing tight while my tongue sought the point
that would bring her home. She screamed in pleasure…

As the echoes died away in the woods, I sat back on my forelegs.
She came down to meet me, a prurient smile on her lips. She pushed
me to the side, then quickly got on top of me. Closing her eyes,
she kissed me… what a kiss. Before long, her tounge found its way
into my mouth and started exploring. Meantime, her hands were exploring
the bulge in my shorts. Her hands seemed to have wills of their own as they
undid the button at the top of the garment, then sliding the zipper down
to the bottom if its track. She bade me raise my hips off the ground,
so she could slide my shorts down… Then she ran her tounge down to
the rock hard member inside my briefs. Hungrily, she pulled them off,
freeing Mr Happy to stand on end. She licked it like a lollypop, then
she put her mouth around it and began sucking in earnest. Licking,
sucking… I went out of my head. But before I came, she moved her head
back up onto mine… she moved her whole naked body on top of mine.
In the midst of the resulting long, deep kiss, I entered her. She
moaned as I did, and continued moaning as I moved inside of her.

An instant later and yet an eternity, I found release… she did too,
several times. We lay together, exhausted… we must have fallen
asleep together, for the next I remember, it was getting dimmer
as the sun went down. We quickly got up, got dressed, and began
walking back to civilisation, arms around each other.

“How have you been Greg?”
“Fine, and yourself?”
“Not bad, how’s study?”
“Ok, I’m dreading the exam results though…”
“Yes, me too.”
“I feel bad about one especially.”
“Oh, which one?”
“I think I’m gonna fail…” I started to cry. This was my final year
and I didn’t want to repeat any more topics.

I wasn’t crying that much, when I said: “I need some reasurance…”
and with a doubting voice added: “could you hold me for a while?”
“Sure.”
And over she came and sat down becide me. She put her arms
around me and we cuddled for a moment. It make me feel better.

Now, I am really attracted to Karen. She is really what I’m looking
for in a woman. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and a gorgeous figure with
shapely hips. She was fit too. I bet those hips could really put
out. And she has joked about that in the past as well, though not
as crudely as I have just put it.

I was assured in less than 2 seconds of her saying “sure”. The hug
sort of turned me on. I had a hardon.

As we broke, she placed her hand on my pants to get balance and felt
something.

“Oo, what’s that?”
“Oh, sorry Karen, you gave me an erection with that hug.” I was
embarrased as hell.

“Can I see?”
“What the…” Now, I was shocked!! Karen has never mentioned this
sort of thing to me in the past. In fact, she cringes at the sight
of a males’ private parts saying that they spoil the illusion (she
attends Man Power night’s every chance she gets).

“Come on… show me.”
“Ok, ok, hang on.”

I couldn’t believe what I was doing, but I unziped my fly anyway.

Out it came. Just a little droopy, but still in good condition.
Before i could lift my head to look at her face, she dove for it!
I removed my hand from the base, and she swolled it whole.

“Jesus, what is she doing” I thought. “God, Greg, just go with the
flow, after all, it’s what you’ve always wanted, right?”

She put pressure on my penis and began to move her head up and down.
Down and up she went. Her toungue giving it a good lashing. She
removed her head and gave it a good pull with a tight grip. Oh, how
I wanted to fuck her badly. She then coated it with saliva and I was
reaching the point of no return. Faster and faser she moved her head.
I groaned and groaned. I was about to come when she lifted her head
and I came all over my stomach. Streams and streams came out, like I
have never seen before.

“Why did you do that?”
“No reason. I just did.”
“Shit, now I’ll have to wash it off. Can I use your shower please, it
went everywhere?”
“Sure, go right ahead.”

She had a smug look on her face as I took off my jumper and T-shirt.
I removed my shoes carefully not alowing any cum to get on my clean
jeans. I took off my jeans as I walked into the kitchen and on to the
bathroom. I turned on the shower and removed my undies.

“Jesus, what a mess. God, why couldn’t she have done this properly?”

The water washed the cum easily away.

“Karen, I’m just gonna take a proper shower, ok?”
“Ok” she said, her voice seamed like she was close.

I washed my hair and started on my lower body. Legs, arms, chest. There,
done. The hot water had made me horny again, but I remembered what
happened the last time, so it was fading.

“Oh, not again” I said.
“What?” cried Karen as she flung back the shower curtain fully naked.
Before I could answer, she was in the shower and had pushed me up
against the back wall. She lowered her body just a few inches and held
my dick up and pushed her stomach against it, rubbing a little. I
embraced her, knowing what would come next. She put her arms around
my neck and locked her legs around my waist still holding her stomach
tight against mine with my throbing cock between us. We kissed. I
moved the shower rose towards us, kepping the heat up and then I
turned around and pushed her up aginst the wall. I moved down and
rubbed my dick up and down her slowly. This continued for a few
minutes, then I said: “It’s time, I want to fuck you.” She nodded,
“I’m ready, fuck me now.”

I entered her. I could feel the satisfaction building. She maoned,
I groaned. We wanted more.

I decided on a better, more natural and comfortable position. After
all, the shower was a bit awkard. I thought of the bath tub. But
that was really small and I was a big boy as I thrusted once more.
“Quickly, the mat!” I exclaimed. Still inside her, we moved outside
of the shower, her legs still holding firm. I gently layed us down,
and we continued. She released her legs and arms and grabbed hold
of the corner of the bath with her right arm and the wash basin
drain pipe with her left. Her legs we flat on the floor and spread
apart. I wanted to fuck her right over to the other side of the house,
but she held firm. Thrust after thrust, I could feel the sperm bulding.
Finally, I unleashed my load into her continuing for a long as I could
afterwards. She orgasmed just after I did. Oh, that did feel good.
I’ve been wanting to do something like that to Karen for ages. Finally,
I had my reward, for it was fantastic.

We steped into the shower to wash the sweat off. Towelled off, and went
into the lounge where the gas space heater had been turned on.
We sat in the lounge facing the TV as I did before and she layed in
my arms. I was in heaven.

We fell asleep for almost 2 hours, not suprising after the sensious
exercise before hand. I awoke with a smile on my face and a hard no
on my dick. She could feel it too as she was resting her head on my
lower stomach. She must have seen it through the gap in the
shower robe I was wearing, after all, it was her’s.

She reached out for it and grabbed it. She then got up and led me to
middle of the floor about 6 feet from the heater, but still on the rug.
“Again!” she said, “I want to do it again.”
Without ANY hesitation I replied, “Yes!!”.
She let go and I undid my robe. She did the same, but erotically.
Under the robe, she moved one knee infront of the other and tilted her
hips. She put her hands on her hips and let the robe drop slowly.
“I don’t deserve this” I said to myself, by my man hood had other ideas.

She then kicked the robe back out of the way and dropped to the floor.
She got up on all fours and turned aound, exposing her arse to me.
Boy, this was a great arse, a little bigger than ususal, but I didn’t
care, more to hang onto.

I dropped to the floor onto all fours as well. I doggied on over to
her and came up slowly from behind. Her back arched with my intensions.
I stuck my toungue out and proceeded to lick her from the top of her
crack, all along her spine, to the nape of her neck. She shivered.
My cock grew harder with every lick, as when I neared her neck, it touched
her arse, but I didn’t want to go there, just a little lower was my
intension.

I moved my toungue toward her left breast. Then, back up and over to the
other. She shivered even more. So did I with anticipation.

It was time. I drew my toungue back and as I straightened up, I slid my
hands along side her body, from her breasts along her rib cage towards her
hips and finally to her arse. I then rubbed it in a clockwise direction
once, and proceeded to guide my cock into her wet pusy.

I held her hips and gently slid it in. Not all the way, we had to get
used to the new position. Out and in, in and out, slowly, until we had
the motion down pat. Then I stepped up the motion. Faster and faster I
thrusted into her cunt. Using my hands to really work her thighs up
against mine. The pounding of flesh really turned us on. We could have
done this for ages. Finally, mutual orgasm was iminient. We both
cummed like we never cummed before. Still fighting for pleasure, I,
again, continued for as long as I could, giving as much pleasure to my
partner as possible. I think I succeded. The pace eased and we broke.

But I did stop. I haven’t picked up a hitchhiker since I was in
college. I always figured that a cute girl standing by the side
of the road with her thumb in the breeze had to have a 250 pound
boyfriend in the bushes, ready to commandeer my car at
knifepoint.

I can see from a distance that you are cute, your long brown hair
whipping about your face in the wind. As I drive closer, I can
see your faded cutoffs, cut so short that the cheeks of your ass
are peeking out invitingly.

You are wearing a pale yellow t-shirt, the veteran of many
washings, faded to the color of tapioca. Your breasts,
unencumbered by a bra, poke proud erect nipples at all who pass
by. Even from a distance I can see the dark circles through the
thin shirt.

You are smiling.

I stop next to you and roll down the window.

“Where are you headed?”

“It doesn’t really matter. Can you take me?”

I swallow. “Sure. Hop in.” You slide into the passenger seat
and I am suddenly conscious of your smell; the smell of sun and
sweat on your buttery skin. I realize that you have slid closer
to me than is really necessary. I swallow again.

“What’s your name?”

“Lisa.” You don’t ask mine. Out of the corner of my eye I can
see your breasts jiggling slightly as we ride. You catch my
sidelong glance and smile slightly. I look away, embarrassed.

“You don’t usually pick people up, do you.” It is a statement,
not a question. I look back at you, more directly this time, and
see that you have turned ever so slightly towards me, and have
inched almost imperceptibly closer. I feel my mouth go slightly
dry. I cannot keep from looking at your breasts.

I begin to imagine…No! Things like this just don’t happen!
There is always a catch. I feel a light sweat on my upper lip.
I roll down the window. We ride for a moment in silence.

You cross your legs and you have moved slightly closer. Your
left hand is on the seat next to your thigh. With another
sidelong glance I can see that the top button on your cutoffs is
undone. Was it like that before? I realize that you are looking
intently at my face. Do you see what I am thinking?

If I move the slightest bit, I am sure my erection will burst
through my pants. So I sit very still and drive carefully and
slowly. Suddenly I realize I am going barely twenty miles per
hour. It seems as though we are barely moving; the fields to
each side of us creep by.

There is a wide spot ahead, next to a broad expanse of tall
grass.

“Could we stop for a bit?” you ask.

“If you like,” I reply, sure that you can hear my heart pounding.

We stop and you are out of the car, skipping through the tall
grass of the field laughing and turning around, your eyes
sparkling. Cautiously I follow you. You come back to me,
breathless, your sun-sweat smell nearly overpowering me.
Watching you in the grass I am nearly overcome with desire and I
and I can think of nothing but you.

You stand very close to me, looking up into my face. The impish
smile nearly disappears as you stand very close to me, searching
my face. I stroke your cheek with my palm and gently bend down
to kiss your soft, full lips. Suddenly your arms are around me,
your mouth wide open, tongue probing. Your body presses
insistently against me, your hands are moving up and down my
back, stroking my ass and the backs of my thighs. I am certain
my body is going to explode.

Suddenly you stop. You draw slightly away from me. Your cheeks
are slightly flushed, and you are breathing heavily through
parted lips. Your firm breasts strain against the flimsy t-
shirt, erect nipples challenging me. You cross your arms and
reach slowly for the bottom of your shirt and pull it over your
head.

Your breasts, now free in the warm sunshine, invite me. I catch
my breath, a half sob, really, as I gaze at you there. You come
to me again and take my head in both your hands, drawing my mouth
first to one breast, then the other. Greedily I run my tongue
over the nipples, feeling them harden at the touch. You pull my
head harder to you, as though you want me to devour you. I am
aware of the salty-sweet taste of your sweat. Your breast fills
…End of the part1. To be continued..

She was standing opposite me on the other side of the street. I
instinctively put out my cigarette and walked over.

“Have you got another one?”, she said.

“Sure. Mind menthol?”

It was too dark too see completely. Her body, however, was thin and
petite. Her hair was long, dark and rather curly. Her method of smoking was
unique, not just exotic, but sensual. I could have sworn she was making love to
the damn thing, exhaleing straight and over so that I walked into the smoke.
Talking as we walked her voice was seductive, alluring a sexual connotation at
every oppurtunity. As we walked, I realized that we were not heading in any
specific destination. She however knew exactly where she was going because I
soon realized that we were in the Campus Woods.

We came upon the river that ran through the woods and headed toward
the footbridge. My mind was swirling. I could not distinguish between her
perfume and the flora. Fresh new scents exited me at every inhalation. Sweet
and sexy winds carried her hair. I was truly hard, but more than that my
mind was filled with passion and raw sensuality. Half-way across the bridge
she stopped and sat down, taking off her boots.

“Come on. The water feels really nice.”, she wispered.

I went over and sat down next to her. I took off my shoes and placed
my feet in the water. It was cold, exquisitely cold. She pulled out a bowl and
packed it with marijuana. It’s scent mixed with hers and made me dizzy. It
wasn’t like a new scent, but rather it was always there and I just hadn’t
noticed it before.

“Mind if I smoke?”, she asked.

“No. Not at all.”, I replied

“Do you want some?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

She smoked hard. I could hear the wind being sucked through the bowl
at mach speeds. Her lips wrapped around the end of it, pulsating and vibrant.
She never took the lighter away, the pot glowed, it eluminated her entire face.
She was serene. Her eyes reflected the light and seemed to glow. Her cheek
bones were high and well formed. She was still sucking hard on the bowl with
her full pouty lips.

Then I smoked, it was strong. The strongest I ever smoked. My
lungs burned and my eyes watered. We passed the bowl back and forth until
it was spent. We smoked another cigarette, the pot WAS strong. I could feel
it already. As I inhaled the menthol vapor deeply, it swirled and spiraled
down to my toes. She felt the same way, I could feel it. She let out
a soft moan as she took a drag and exhaled. She layed back and watched the
stars. Giggling as if on another planet. I leaned over and put my face in
front of hers.

She said nothing, just blinked and shut her eyes. Her hands combed my
face and found my lips. Tracing the outside and then moving to my eyes.
She pressed slightly and encompassed my head with both hands. She pulled me
closer opened her mouth and kissed me.

Her lips were suculant. They had a mind of their own as they pulsated
around mine. She oozed sexuality. Her tongue traced my inner lips and
found my tongue. Our tongues circled and caressed, causing me to moan slightly
into her mouth. Her hands worked their way down. Finding my chest and erect
nipples. She touched them, tugged at them. The feeling was exhilarating. She
removed my shirt and started to kiss her way down. Kissing my neck, down,
further, further. I was so excited I almost came.

She unbuckled my belt and jeans with her teeth. I brought up my hips
and she slid my pants off. She took the head of penis. Her lips had the same
pulsating rythm. She sucked hard and bit down slightly.

“Uhhhhhggg.”, I whimpered.

“Mmmmmm.”, she replied.

She went down on it. She pushed it all the way to the back of throat.
Her tongue viciously darted out and tickled my scrotum. It then caressed them,
cautiously. My mind was a cloud of smoke. She was encircling my thoughts,
enveloping my manhood. She continued to caress me with her tongue. She came
up, dragging her teeth. Her suculant lips encumbered the head of my penis
again. This time her tongue tickled the tip. Pre-cum was dripping out of
the opening, but that did not stop her rythm. She traced the tip with her
finger. Her head started to move faster. I moaned loudly. I felt her moan
also, deeply. Her finger came to mouth and went inside. Salty, but I didn’t
mind, it was sensual. Her other hand grasped my shaft. It gripped firmly
and waited for her mouth to join it. Her head and hand now moved in unison.
Up and down slightly twisting. Her saliva coated me. Her mouth began to
suck harder, her tongue vibrating faster. She moved her hand yet even faster,
faster. I began to stiffen, my hips bucked wildly.

“Uhhhhhggg.”

Faster, Faster. Me scrotum became rock hard, she stroked it, cared for
it. My penis became tense. She went all the way down. Tenser, firmer. She
swallowed, her throat muscles tightened. Her hand kept their rythmic pace.
I let out a cry. I came. I shot hot semen right down her throat. She pumped
faster, harder. Shot after shot, I came. My semen coated her tongue and mouth.
She kept sucking, wanting more. I had no more. Ecstacy. I lay there, my penis
still enveloped. She licked me clean. She came to me and we kissed, deeply,
passionately.

I heard something on the beach below me and looked over the
railing of the deck. A beautiful lady in her early 30’s was dancing
by herself to the sounds coming from above. She was quite a good
dancer and obviously enjoying her solitary dancing, unaware that
anyone was watching. She moved and swayed to the sounds of “When A
Man Loves a Woman” by Percy Sledge, lost in her memories.

As the final strains of the classic faded, I said, “You dance
divinely, my dear.” She spun her head around, looking for the
speaker; startled. Then as she spun around, she looked up at me and
lost her balance, falling to the ground with a sharp cry of pain as
she twisted her ankle on the unsteady sand.

I ran down the steps to her side. “I am so sorry, I didn’t
mean to startle you,” I told her. “Are you alright?”

“NO, I twisted my damn ankle again,” she replied with a
grimace. “It’s not really your fault. I twisted it a few days ago
and should have known better than to dance on it so soon.”

“Can you walk on it?”

“I don’t think so… I need to put some ice on it.”

“Let me help you up to my apartment; I’ve got an ice pack you
can put on it. It’s the least I can do.”

She stood on her one good leg and put her arm around my
shoulder and tried to hop up the stairs. She was obviously hurting,
so I reached down and picked her up and carried her up the stairs.
She felt good in my arms and I enjoyed the feel of her breast against
my chest. I carried her inside and put her down on the couch; placed
her injured ankle on a pillow and went to get the ice pack.

When I came back, she put her good foot on the floor to give me
room to sit down and tend to her ankle. I gently placed the ice pack
on her foot and let my eyes rum up her bare legs to her cutoff blue
jean-covered crotch. Her legs were spread, and I could see a few
silky hairs peeking from the vee of her sex. I tried not to stare,
but I couldn’t help my self. My eyes traveled on up and I could see
she was not wearing a bra under her tight T-shirt. She was either
horny or cold, because her nipples were as hard as rocks, tenting the
fabric of her shirt. I looked on up into the most beautiful
eyes I had seen in a long, long time. She was smiling slightly.

“Did you enjoy the view?”

“Ah, uh, well, uh… would you like something to drink?” I
stammered, embarrassed at being caught being so obvious.

“Sure,” she replied with a mischievous grin. “Some white wine
would be nice if you have it.”

I stood to go to the kitchen and turned quickly to hide my
growing erection. In the kitchen I reached down and readjusted my
cock. “It ain’t gonna do you any good to get up, boy,” I told it
tersely. “This lady’s hurting and you ain’t got a chance to get any
tonight, so just calm down.” But, as always, he didn’t listen to me.
He had a mind of his own and it was one-track… but at least it
wasn’t so obvious after the adjustment.

I came back into the living room with our drinks and as I
walked toward her she was staring at my crotch. She turned on her
side a bit and patted the couch beside her for me to sit. “You
didn’t answer my question,” she said after she had taken a sip. She
looked at me prettily over the rim of her wineglass. “Did you enjoy
the view? I sure did.”

“I can’t help looking when I am that close to someone as
beautiful as you are,” I replied.

She reached up and pulled my head down to hers. “You’re very
sweet,” she said and kissed me. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

“It’s my pleasure.”

“Not yet it isn’t,” she said and kissed me again, running her
tongue deep into my mouth, moaning softly. We kissed passionately
for a few minutes, then I broke the kiss.

“If you don’t watch out, this is going to get out of hand and I
don’t want to hurt your foot.”

“Let me worry about the damn foot,” she replied. “I’ll let you
know if it hurts, you can be sure of that!” And with that, she
reached down, grabbed the hem of her T-shirt and pulled it over her
head. She shook her brown curly hair as the shirt came off and
dropped the shirt on the floor. She grabbed my head and drew it to
her breasts. I wallowed my face in those glorious mounds of flesh,
licking and kissing them all over. I ran my tongue around and around
…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!

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..

I stopped to pick up the girl on the side of the road. She was
wearing a soft cotten dress. As we drove on we talked about all sorts
of things. Then she asked me if I wanted a blow job in payment for the
ride! I am no fool ,so I quickly pull off and pull down my jeans!

As we drive her head bobs up and down my fat cock! She pushes two fingers
up my ass and dives down till the head of my cock is pushed
down her throat! I cum in long thick spurts! she gags on the sticky
fluid as it fills her cheaks.

She pulls her mouth off my cock but continues to pump it with her
hand. Her breasts are big and hang heavy. Her skin is a deep brown
from many hours of sun bathing. I watch her nipples poking through
the cloth of the dress! My dick is still like a rock, so I pull into the
median strip on the highway. She gets out and I step out also.
she climbs onto the hood of the car and spreads her thighs. I stand
there (with out pants on) my cock pointing towards her. I push my
mouth onto her cunt! The fat lips part as the juices she had been
holding back come gushing out into my mouth! I eat and suck and
lick her sweet pussy. I slip first one finger ,then two ,then three
fingers up into her asshole and pump them as I tongue fuck her
cunt! I bite and pull on the fat lips and smear her juices on to
her thin line of pubic hair! She moans and twists around my fingers
shoved up her ass and my mouth on her mound!

She shoves me back (my fingers make a little -pop- as they slip
out of her ass) then turns around and bends over the front of the
car. I slowly push the head of my cock up into her pussy. She grunts and
trys to get more cock in in a shorter time, but I will not
allow that. I finally get all 7 1/2″s of cock up into her! We start
fast and she screams and pounds on the hood of the car as she is
fucked savagely!! I pump and pump and pump into her. Her cunt is tight and
she works my cock like a pro!

I pull out quickly!! She gasps and almost falls off the car. But I
grab her and quickly re-insert my now slick cock up her ass hole!
She Cums like a banshee as I fire my wads of hot sticky cum up her
ass! I continue to pump her ass till she is completely satisfied!

As we drive along she rubs her dress on her ass to collet the
cum as it dribbles out. She blows me again as we pull into her
drive way. She gives me her phone number and tells me that I
owe her a fuck and that I have to cum up her cunt to get all her
holes filled! I promise and drive off…

—

justice I have to be a great deal more explicit that I would normally prefer. I

prefer to flirt, both with men and with the details of my adventures. It seems

much more appropriate to say I spent the night with someone than to say

specifically what we did. I will try to overcome this as I tell you what

happened. If I seem to be skirting something, you have to be willing to interrupt

me with questions. I may evade, but I will never lie. Anyway, with that in mind,

the story really begins on a Friday night a few months back. The Chief, my

affectionate name I gave my husband, had some friends over. I was getting in

late from a conference and it was clearly his party. I knew nearly everyone

there, but they were his friends. I came in about 10:00 that night. I’d slept

on the train, so I was still fairly fresh. There they all were in the dining

room, playing cards. The Chief gave me a big hug when I came in and carried my

suitcase up to the bedroom. I washed my face and slipped out of my travel

clothes into the kind of thing I normally hang around the house in, a shirt of

the Chief’s and tights (white and blue respectively.) I’d eaten so I just nibble

at the snacks and watched them play. I stood or sat behind the Chief and one or

two of the other players seemed to have trouble focusing on their cards. I’d been

behaving myself for the past few days and this tickled me. Thinking to myself,

It’s all in a good cause (the Chief’s winnings) I would stretch or walk around or

occasionally pick things up off of the floor. They seemed to enjoy it and I

certainly did. Around midnight about half of the crew left and when the game had

gotten down to 4 players, I sat in and became a fifth. They were betting quarters

mostly and I sat down with around $20 and began to play. I was about $5 ahead

when I began to lose steadily. One of the other players ran out of money and

left. That had been the pattern. When you ran out of the money you had on the

table, you were done. This gave the game a quality that the Chief described as

friendly. There were limits on how fast you could raise, there were limits on

the number of raises, and what they described as table stakes. No checks, no

I.O.U.s, no big debts. The game had gone on for a couple of years, losing very

few players and the ‘friendly’ atmosphere was probably responsible. So, here I am

down to about $5.00 and another player went bust and left. I’d lost about 8

hands in a row. I started trying to bet conservatively until I felt my luck

change. That helped me outlast one more player who also left. It was about 1:30

in Saturday morning now. I lost all but my last dollar betting on a full house of

Queens and fives. It seemed like a conservative, safe bet, but here I was down

to 4 quarters. One went into the pot for my ante and I picked up a pair of

kings. There were 2 quarters in raises to me which I covered and I found myself

looking at a third king and two aces in my draw. I bet the quarter I had left,

the Chief raised one quarter (He’d drawn three cards) and J, the other player

raised one. So, here I was with a winning hand and nothing left to bet. Or was

I really down to nothing. I grinned at J, moved my eyes to the Chief and somehow

or other managed to say with a straight face, I’ll cover the pot with my shirt if

I lose.

The Chief was drinking something as I said. How he managed to not spray it all

over the cards, I’ll never know. He was close to losing it. When I say losing

it, I mean laughing, not being angry. He seemed to see this as just one more of

my flirtings which rather than growing resigned to, he has come to enjoy over

…End of the part1. To be continued..

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 pubic. 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.

–

Hearing the buzzer, I ran downstairs to let her in. I hadn’t seen her
for almost a month. We had talked on the phone a few times, but one
thought coursed through my mind: her back. She had promised me her
back. Well, I could only use my hands, but that would be enough.

We went to my room and closed the door. She lay face down on my couch
— and I began to massage her back through her T-shirt. Afraid to
make any unwanted advances, I sat beside the couch. She told me I
could sit on top of her and so I did, now reaching under the back of
her shirt to caress her soft skin. As I worked my way up her back, I
reached her bra-strap. I worked around it for a while, and then asked
if I could remove it. She nodded, and I unstrapped it.

Now having full access to her back, I kneaded the length of her spine
with my fingertips, progressing from tender caresses to vigorous
thrusts, up and down the length of her back. By now I had pushed her
shirt up to her shoulders. I took a bottle of massage oil off the
shelf and warned her that her shirt might get oily. She removed it
and placed it beneath her, barely covering her breasts.

I spread some oil on her back and then started to massage large
circles, warming her back with the motion. I could hear how her
breathing quickened at moments, but I said nothing. I massaged her
thoroughly — her spine, beneath her shoulder blades, her exposed
sides, the back of her neck.

Finally, my desire overcame my restraint. I asked her if I could lick
her back. She teased me, asking me if I really liked the taste of
oil. I asked again, and she said yes. I then licked her ever so
slowly, starting from the base of her spine, snaking up with the tip
of my tongue until I reached her neck, then slithering back down. I
did it again and again, each time faster; I could her gasp at the
moist pressure of my tongue. I kissed the whole area of her back
nibbling from the shoulders down to the waistline, even reaching
beneath the elastic of her sweatpants with my tongue. I began to lick
in sudden, hard strokes up her back with the flat of my tongue, and
her gasps escalated to moans. Still seated sbove her, I could feel
her pelvis squirm with each thrust of my tongue, but I held back. I
licked each arm, kissing inside her elbows, carressing her arms and
hands with my lips. I nibbled at her neck, licking closer and closer
to her face. I then tightened my knees around her waist and began to
lick up her spine again. By now I had been licking her back and arms
for almost half an hour. And this time when I neared her face, she
met me for a kiss…

–
Daniel Tunkelang (quixote@athena.mit.edu)

Now you are standing at his door, looking for the bell. It is a
large steel sliding door on the upper floor of an old warehouse
downtown. Clearly, David’s studio is in a loft. You finally just knock
on the door. A moment later, the door slides open and light from the
hall spills across a hardwood floor. The studio is dimly lit and you
can’t see anyone there.
“Hold on, let me get the lights,” you hear a voice say.
Suddenly, bright overhead lights come on, exposing the entire loft. You
walk in and look around. David is standing there, smiling.
“You must be Trish,” he says.
“Uh, yeah. You must be David,” you reply, slightly uncomfortable.
David is about six feet tall, a good eight inches taller than
you. He has short black curly hair and a young but weatherbeaten face
that has crinkles at the eyes and mouth. You can tell that he laughs a
lot. He has a well toned and muscled body; you can see his wide chest
straining at the black commando’s sweater he’s wearing. He has on a
baggy pair of black fatigue trousers. His bare feet even look strong;
his toes grip the floor as he walks.
The loft studio is much nicer than you expected, given the looks
of the building outside. The front of the loft is obviously David’s
apartment. The kitchen is set aside from the rest of the room by a
wrap-around countertop. It sits to the right of the door. The door
itself is halfway between the front and back walls. The furniture is
comfortable and modern. There is a long couch that surrounds a coffee
table in front of a fireplace. The entire front wall is glass, looking
out over the city. On the far wall is a raised platform with steps
leading up to it. On top of the platform, which sits six feet high,
is a waterbed. Off to one side of the platform is a bathroom. Oddly,
there are no walls around it. It’s shielded from the front windows by
the bed platform, but it is open to the rest of the apartment. There’s
a sink, cabinet, mirror, commode and an old iron free-standing bathtub.
The walls are brick, from the floor to eight feet up. Then the
walls are white up to the 15 foot ceiling. The ceiling is white too,
and track lights reflect off of it to fill the room with a soft glow.
“Tea?” David is standing in the kitchen holding a pot.
“Please,” you respond, walking along the brick walls, looking at
the pictures hanging there. Many are covers from famous magazines.
Many others are pictures of nature scenes. Sprinkled among them are
pictures of women in seductive poses, or wearing suggestive clothing.
David sets your tea down on the table and invites you to have a
seat. He walks to the wall and turns a dimmer switch, dimming the
lights to a dull glow. “There’s a storm coming; I want to watch it.”
You look out the window and see flashes of lightning. David
retreives his own tea from the kitchen and sits sideways on the couch,
facing you.
“Tell me about yourself,” he asks quietly.
You tell him about your school and your hobbies. He has a lot
to talk about; seemingly, he has an interest in everything. You talk
about accounting and running. You talk about swimming and skydiving.
You watch the storm. David has a quick smile and a gentle laugh and
after a couple of hours you feel very comfortable with him. He keeps
you teacup filled.
“You have neat pictures,” you say after talking for a few hours.
David smiles a thanks. “Let’s go take some pictures.” He
stands up and offers you his hand.
You take his hand and stand up. David leads you by the hand
back into the dark back half of the loft. He reaches out and turns a
switch someplace and a few lights come on. There are strobes with
reflectors lined up neatly along the wall. There is black shag carpet
on part of the floor and white on another. David leads you over to the
black carpet and sits you down in the middle.
You watch as David turns to a control panel on the wall. The
lights come up further, including some focused on you, and soon you are
at the center of attention. David opens a cabinet and takes out a
camera. He sits down on the floor in front of you and takes a few
pictures. “Good choice of clothes,” he mentions between shots.
You are wearing a white maternity shirt with a bright yellow
maternity jumper over it. You feel the warmth of the lights on you as
David moves around, photographing you from different angles. Every so
often, he reaches out and adjusts your position, moving a hand here or
adjusting the angle of your head there. He sets you so your one leg is
drawn up with the other crossed under it. He places your hands on your
knee and rests your chin on your hands. Oddly, your heart beats harder
as he moves your body around and you find yourself admiring the fluid
grace with which David moves.
David takes a few more pics in that pose and has you lean back
on your hands. Your breath catches in your throat as he unbuttons one
shoulder strap on your jumper and re-adjusts it so the front left corner
is hanging down, showing the swollen curves of your enlarged breast
through the shirt. David leans back and takes a few more pictures. He
pauses and sets the camera down on the carpet. He slides over next to
you and puts his hand on your raised knee and squeezes it.
“Are you doing ok,” he asks.
Your heart is pounding and you can’t seem to catch your breath.
You feel beads of sweat break out across your stomach and legs. You
realize that his touch and his closeness have aroused you considerably;
you can feel your damp cotton lace panties rubbing against your thigh.
You manage a breathy yes.
David smiles. “Good.” Never breaking eye contact with you,
…End of the part1. To be continued..

“How have you been Greg?”
“Fine, and yourself?”
“Not bad, how’s study?”
“Ok, I’m dreading the exam results though…”
“Yes, me too.”
“I feel bad about one especially.”
“Oh, which one?”
“I think I’m gonna fail…” I started to cry. This was my final year
and I didn’t want to repeat any more topics.

I wasn’t crying that much, when I said: “I need some reasurance…”
and with a doubting voice added: “could you hold me for a while?”
“Sure.”
And over she came and sat down becide me. She put her arms
around me and we cuddled for a moment. It make me feel better.

Now, I am really attracted to Karen. She is really what I’m looking
for in a woman. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and a gorgeous figure with
shapely hips. She was fit too. I bet those hips could really put
out. And she has joked about that in the past as well, though not
as crudely as I have just put it.

I was assured in less than 2 seconds of her saying “sure”. The hug
sort of turned me on. I had a hardon.

As we broke, she placed her hand on my pants to get balance and felt
something.

“Oo, what’s that?”
“Oh, sorry Karen, you gave me an erection with that hug.” I was
embarrased as hell.

“Can I see?”
“What the…” Now, I was shocked!! Karen has never mentioned this
sort of thing to me in the past. In fact, she cringes at the sight
of a males’ private parts saying that they spoil the illusion (she
attends Man Power night’s every chance she gets).

“Come on… show me.”
“Ok, ok, hang on.”

I couldn’t believe what I was doing, but I unziped my fly anyway.

Out it came. Just a little droopy, but still in good condition.
Before i could lift my head to look at her face, she dove for it!
I removed my hand from the base, and she swolled it whole.

“Jesus, what is she doing” I thought. “God, Greg, just go with the
flow, after all, it’s what you’ve always wanted, right?”

She put pressure on my penis and began to move her head up and down.
Down and up she went. Her toungue giving it a good lashing. She
removed her head and gave it a good pull with a tight grip. Oh, how
I wanted to fuck her badly. She then coated it with saliva and I was
reaching the point of no return. Faster and faser she moved her head.
I groaned and groaned. I was about to come when she lifted her head
and I came all over my stomach. Streams and streams came out, like I
have never seen before.

“Why did you do that?”
“No reason. I just did.”
“Shit, now I’ll have to wash it off. Can I use your shower please, it
went everywhere?”
“Sure, go right ahead.”

She had a smug look on her face as I took off my jumper and T-shirt.
I removed my shoes carefully not alowing any cum to get on my clean
jeans. I took off my jeans as I walked into the kitchen and on to the
bathroom. I turned on the shower and removed my undies.

“Jesus, what a mess. God, why couldn’t she have done this properly?”

The water washed the cum easily away.

“Karen, I’m just gonna take a proper shower, ok?”
“Ok” she said, her voice seamed like she was close.

I washed my hair and started on my lower body. Legs, arms, chest. There,
done. The hot water had made me horny again, but I remembered what
happened the last time, so it was fading.

“Oh, not again” I said.
“What?” cried Karen as she flung back the shower curtain fully naked.
Before I could answer, she was in the shower and had pushed me up
against the back wall. She lowered her body just a few inches and held
my dick up and pushed her stomach against it, rubbing a little. I
embraced her, knowing what would come next. She put her arms around
my neck and locked her legs around my waist still holding her stomach
tight against mine with my throbing cock between us. We kissed. I
moved the shower rose towards us, kepping the heat up and then I
turned around and pushed her up aginst the wall. I moved down and
rubbed my dick up and down her slowly. This continued for a few
minutes, then I said: “It’s time, I want to fuck you.” She nodded,
“I’m ready, fuck me now.”

I entered her. I could feel the satisfaction building. She maoned,
I groaned. We wanted more.

I decided on a better, more natural and comfortable position. After
all, the shower was a bit awkard. I thought of the bath tub. But
that was really small and I was a big boy as I thrusted once more.
“Quickly, the mat!” I exclaimed. Still inside her, we moved outside
of the shower, her legs still holding firm. I gently layed us down,
and we continued. She released her legs and arms and grabbed hold
of the corner of the bath with her right arm and the wash basin
drain pipe with her left. Her legs we flat on the floor and spread
apart. I wanted to fuck her right over to the other side of the house,
but she held firm. Thrust after thrust, I could feel the sperm bulding.
Finally, I unleashed my load into her continuing for a long as I could
afterwards. She orgasmed just after I did. Oh, that did feel good.
I’ve been wanting to do something like that to Karen for ages. Finally,
I had my reward, for it was fantastic.

We steped into the shower to wash the sweat off. Towelled off, and went
into the lounge where the gas space heater had been turned on.
We sat in the lounge facing the TV as I did before and she layed in
my arms. I was in heaven.

We fell asleep for almost 2 hours, not suprising after the sensious
exercise before hand. I awoke with a smile on my face and a hard no
on my dick. She could feel it too as she was resting her head on my
lower stomach. She must have seen it through the gap in the
shower robe I was wearing, after all, it was her’s.

She reached out for it and grabbed it. She then got up and led me to
middle of the floor about 6 feet from the heater, but still on the rug.
“Again!” she said, “I want to do it again.”
Without ANY hesitation I replied, “Yes!!”.
She let go and I undid my robe. She did the same, but erotically.
Under the robe, she moved one knee infront of the other and tilted her
hips. She put her hands on her hips and let the robe drop slowly.
“I don’t deserve this” I said to myself, by my man hood had other ideas.

She then kicked the robe back out of the way and dropped to the floor.
She got up on all fours and turned aound, exposing her arse to me.
Boy, this was a great arse, a little bigger than ususal, but I didn’t
care, more to hang onto.

I dropped to the floor onto all fours as well. I doggied on over to
her and came up slowly from behind. Her back arched with my intensions.
I stuck my toungue out and proceeded to lick her from the top of her
crack, all along her spine, to the nape of her neck. She shivered.
My cock grew harder with every lick, as when I neared her neck, it touched
her arse, but I didn’t want to go there, just a little lower was my
intension.

I moved my toungue toward her left breast. Then, back up and over to the
other. She shivered even more. So did I with anticipation.

It was time. I drew my toungue back and as I straightened up, I slid my
hands along side her body, from her breasts along her rib cage towards her
hips and finally to her arse. I then rubbed it in a clockwise direction
once, and proceeded to guide my cock into her wet pusy.

I held her hips and gently slid it in. Not all the way, we had to get
used to the new position. Out and in, in and out, slowly, until we had
the motion down pat. Then I stepped up the motion. Faster and faster I
thrusted into her cunt. Using my hands to really work her thighs up
against mine. The pounding of flesh really turned us on. We could have
done this for ages. Finally, mutual orgasm was iminient. We both
cummed like we never cummed before. Still fighting for pleasure, I,
again, continued for as long as I could, giving as much pleasure to my
partner as possible. I think I succeded. The pace eased and we broke.

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..

It was a clear hot August morning and she was walking the way
women walk when they want you to know that their destination is an
erotic one. I pulled out my microcassette recorder and didn’t
press down any buttons. I spoke into it as she came near. “It was
a clear hot August morning and she was walking the way women walk
when they want you to know that their destination is an erotic
one.”
She stopped. “God damn it. God damn you.” She smoothed the
yellow of her dress under her and sat down on the bench. She
continued. “You didn’t press the record button. What a
bullshitter.”
“You noticed.”
“Fraid so, slick. You did it for *my* benefit?”
“You’re *here*…”
“So how many girls do you pick up that way?”
“Counting you?”
She bent down and adjusted the heel strap on her sandal.
“Actually,” I said, “I was not looking to pick anyone up.”
“Well then why did you drop that bomb?”
I pointed at the sculpture in front of the library building
and then down to the walk. The way the sun was hitting the edge of
the sculpture it was casting gorgeous crazy shadows along the walk.
“So it was a gift, then? But not to me. To the day.”
“Yup. That’s all.”
“Thanks, I guess,” she said. Then she took the recorder from
my hand, pressed down ‘record’ and ‘play’ and said, “It was a
dreary wet December day and he was walking the way truck drivers
walk when they have to take a dump.”
“Hey, you’re good.”
“Think so?” She handed the recorder back to me.
“Oh yeah. Could be–”
“Better? Could be better? You think you can do better, don’t
you?”
“To be honest, yeah. But what do I w–”
“All right, I’ll make you a deal. If you do better, you can
have me.”
“And if I don’t?”
“No confidence?”
I pressed the ‘record’ and ‘play’ and said, “It was a heavy
September morning and he was walking the way truck drivers walk
when they want you to know they have to take a dump.”
As we walked off she said, “Hey, you were right.”
I felt her hand around my tricep and looked over at her.
“About my destination,” she said, and we walked on.

RICHH

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….

–

Suddenly the Sysop got a chat call on the terminal. He
asked us if we would excuse him a few minutes while he took
care of the call. He left the room and we went over to his
liquor cabinet and poured a couple of drinks. I had a shot
of Jack Daniels and the ladies had gin on the rocks.

Joyce, the tallest of the three, after about three drinks,
complained that she was getting hot and was going to take
her top off. Well, when she removed her top, out popped
the two most beautiful breasts. They must have been 38’s
and perfectly round, with the two darkest nipples that I ever
saw almost two inches across. Jean, her friend, took off
her top also and then removed her pants.

It was the first time I saw a woman with a completely
shaved pussy. I couldn’t stand it anymore, I had to relieve
myself, so I took off my pants and let my pecker wave like
a flag pole. When Mary-Ann, the third girl saw that, she
proceeded to disrobe also, and to my surprise, took out some
wrist-binding chains and a small whip from her bag. She
tied up Jean and Joyce and began to whip them violently
and they seemed to love every minute of it.

I jumped into the middle and even though they were obsessed
with what they were doing, I slid my dick right in Joyce’s
mouth. It was great!! With every moan, she would vibrate my
member to ecstasy until I couldn’t stand it anymore. This
went on for about 15 minutes until we were all out of steam.

It was just in time. The Sysop came back and we told him that
we all were a little tired and were going to leave. He was a
little upset, but nevertheless bid us a good evening. Ever
since that night, I will never hesitate to get together with
other BBS users for one minute never know what to expect!!