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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Care to elaborate on that?” I asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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…

—

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

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

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

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

The second day of driving, he stopped for lunch and realized
that he would run out of gas before the next town. The more he
looked around, the more he came to realize, this place was
different.

In the town he had left the day before, the women were still
wearing coats and sweaters. Even though spring had just started,
hear the women were running round in Bikini’s and shorts. Tim
looked around and found a casino to go into.

Tim had just finished loading his remaining quarters into a
slot machine, when over at the bar, he noticed a petit oriental
woman staring out onto the gaming floor, sort of looking off at
nothing in particular.

As she turned her body toward Tim, he looked at her, and her
short red dress might as well have had neon letters on it saying
suck my tits and fuck my pussy.

When the slot came up blank, Tim moved over to the bar and
said, “waiting for somebody.”

The young lady looked at him, wet her lips and said, “No.
But I am meeting Mr. March in a half hour. But While I am
waiting, I thought I would begin the search for Mr. April.”

“Oh, you like more than one at a Time, huh?”, said Tim.

She spun her stool so she was facing Tim and extended her
hand and said, “My name is Miyoko. You sound like a sexually
liberated man. Well, I’m a sexually liberated woman in search of
a mate.”

“Sounds interesting,” said Tim, “what do I have to do.”

“Well,” said Miyoko “I don’t want to sound like some kind of
slut, but I could give you a suck job like you’ve never had
before, and then slip you meat into my tight cunt and milk you
dry.”

Tim answered, “If you feel up to it, we can rent a room and
see if your body agrees with what you think.”

“I’d love to, but like I said, in a few minuets I’ve got to
meat a gentleman. Right now, I’m just looking for Mr. April.”
Said Miyoko.

“Who the hell is this Mr. April.” Asked Tim.

“Actually, I don’t know. I hadn’t picked him yet.”
Answered Miyoko. “But you never know you might be Mr. April
yourself.”

“I have no idea what the hell your talking about.” Said
Tim. “I’ve never laid eyes on you before tonight.”

Miyoko explained “March and April are just names that I use.
Like I said. I’m looking for a sexually liberated man. Last
names aren’t important. Besides, I only spend one month with a
guy then I move on. The Mr. March that I’m meeting in a little
while is the gentleman that I’ve been fucking and sucking me for
the past month.”

“I see.” Said Tim.

“And you know,” continued Miyoko, “Their is only a Week in
March, and.” as Miyoko ran her leg up Tim’s to his crotch, “that
means that it is Time for me to start looking for a new cock.
Are you interested.”

“Keep your panties on bitch.” Tim said as he lifted her
dress a little. “Or in your case keep your dress on. Their are
some things I don’t buy without sampling.”

“I think I understand what your saying.” said Miyoko as she
moved her stool closer to Tim’s. “You want to take me upstairs,
slip me out of this flimsy dress, and find out just how tight my
snatch is, how suckable my nipples are, and how talented my
tongue is. Right.”

“You read my mind.” Said Tim.

“I’ll make a deal with you,” said Miyoko as she handed Tim
some money. “You rent us a room. And as soon as I’m through
with Mr. March. I’ll call the casino and have them page Mr. P.
F. April and then I’ll let you know wear to pick me up.”

With not knowing how long Miyoko would be, Tim rented a room
and took the remainder back to the casino and sat down at a
blackjack table. Tim knew that with how much was left, he could
spend several hours on the table, and with the free drinks, he
would be feeling pretty good by the Time Miyoko was ready.
…End of the part1. To be continued..

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can you turn on a light?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure, why not?” she said.

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m Jill,” she said.

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

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

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

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

“Yah,” he said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Finally, he said “Want a back rub?”

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

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

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

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

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

By Vatasyayana

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

———————————————————————–

Lying Down Positions:
——————–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…End of the part1. To be continued..

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…

Julie was a large, intelligent woman. She stood close

to 6 feet tall and had probably been rather overweight at one

time but had obviously gotten it well under control. She had

black hair and green eyes that always looked sharply and could

sparkle with fun at times. Obviously highly intelligent, you

could never be sure exactly what she was thinking.

Her figure was ample, perhaps 42-38-42, and her strong

frame gave her a well-put-together look. She always dressed

impeccably at work, wearing clothes that flattered her while

remaining relatively conservative.

Julie and I had always gotten along well, sharing jokes

in the elevator or just smiling and saying hi in the hallways.

I had always been attracted to her. I like that self confidence

that allows a woman to smile unabashedly at men in a way that

says that she never feels herself to be less than they. Julie

was definitely an strong and assertive woman, and easily the

equal to any man.

One day I was getting a drink at the water fountain down

the hall when she walked by. The water fountain was located

around a bend in the hall from the office doors, and was next

to the door to the ladies room. She had just come out of the

ladies room, and as she walked by she gently swatted my seat. I

was so surprised I almost bumped my head on the wall behind the

fountain.

“Now now!” I said as I quickly straightened up and

looked after her. She looked back with a big grin and then

turned and walked back to me.

“You want some more, little boy?” she teased, grinning

wider and looking slightly down on me.

“You’d better watch out.” I shot back. “I might take

you up on that!”

She took a breath, thrusting her large breasts out at me

slightly. “You might, eh?” she said, still grinning. “And what

if I said ‘Let’s’?”

My heart began to pound and I said “I’d like that, I’m

sure.”

“Step this way, young man.” she said, and, taking my

hand, led me around the corner away from the office to another

short hall section where she opened a phone closet door. My

heart was pounding louder now, and I was already feeling a glow

of warmth coming over me. My nerves tingled with tension and

anticipation. I had had dreams like this occasionally for

months, but never considered them a real possibility.

She closed the door behind us and turned on a small

light bulb in the closet, which was actually fairly large. It

…End of the part1. To be continued..

“Oh, sir, I hadn’t expected to see you…you startled me.” she
lilted delicately in a surprisingly mature tone.

“I can see that.” smiled the older, silver-haired man whom she turned
to face. “I’d been told you were looking for me, so I decided to shorten your
trip. Would you prefer the lounge, or is my office more suited to the
matter?”

“The lounge would be alright, I suppose. It’s nothing of any real
urgency, but I thought you might like to hear this from me, first; it is my
assignment, after all.” she smiled in return.

“Cut! Okay, we’ve been here long enough for tonight, and that’s a
wrap for this scene. We’ll pick up at 9 am with the reshoot of scene 2 –
that footage doesn’t look as good as it could. Remember, everybody, plenty
of sleep and be ready for another full day of shooting tomorrow. We’re
doing good and we’re staying on schedule, let’s keep it up!” The director
stood as he said this and the crew began breaking up the equipment. The
actors gathered belongings, hoping to change in their trailors and have
enough time to beat the late traffic; the two on stage allowed their
characters to leave them, slowly.

“Amelia, you’re doing a wonderful job. It’s amazing to me that you’ve
never filmed before! Stage actors are rarely this poised when it comes to
making movies.”

“Yes, well, it’s new but it’s fun. I’ve been told I’m a natural,”
she replied with the nonchalance of someone who’s not sure she’s really been
paid a compliment, “but I think it’s just luck: good luck to have my founder-
ing ego boosted by some of the best actors in the business.”

Shedding his role like a lazy chameleon, Patrick resumed his natural
British accent; a reversal, of sorts, as she regained the oddly-inflected,
strangely neutral “American” accent of her own. “I think your ego is a
healthy one, no worries there.” he chuckled. “Would you like to go into town
and have dinner this evening? I’m absolutely cringing at the thought of
another repast in my cabin, and I’d enjoy the company.”

“Sleeping was my only other option tonight, someone borrowed my cards
and I can’t play solitaire without them, so, why not?” Her mischievous grin
was infectious, and the two of them laughed as they parted to their respective
trailors.

Escaping the gown was a monumental achievement, its stays and pins
being reminiscent of a straitjacket; Amelia was almost afronted at being
forced to hide her perfectly good, natural figure within its confines. Oh,
well, it was her chosen occupation and this was one of its hazards. She
smiled again, and blushed…Patrick Harrison, for all his status as an
*actor*, on stage and off, was proving a delightful new friend. He was still
the dashing, impeccably-attired, prematurely-greying hero whose exploits
shaped her life; he had, of course, grown into his grey a bit and he’d look
equally impeccable in a tuxedo or faded denims. Now, here she was, in what
was being touted as the hottest movie of the season in a year studded with
spectacular releases; the leading female role opposite the man she’d fallen
in love with when she was a little girl. A sci-fi flick, at that! The
ultra-futuristic sets made her marvel, even though they were just mock-ups.
Well, with all the praise she was receiving, as well as the prompting and
approval of others in the field whose names had been household words for
years made her feel more at-ease with her success. She rushed at the last
minute, mindful of Patrick’s waiting and aware that her own unbidden fears
of making a fool of herself in such glamorous company could prey too heavily
on her mind to allow sleep if she let it get too great an advantage.

“Oh, there you are. You surprise me, Amelia, most women take their
time and make a man’s stomach go through horrible agonies waiting for their
suppers. I approve.”

That, spoken with such a serious face, caused Amelia to break out in
giggles. He Patrick was, if nothing else, a very entertaining and diverting
fellow. If he hadn’t been there she honestly believed the “magic” would have
been missing from the film completely. Such spontaneity put her at her ease
immediately, and he seemed genuinely to like her.

Patrick cocked his head, then cocked his left eyebrow, returned her
smile and gestured to the door. They left quickly, eager to be rid of the
site for awhile and anticipating “real food” at an unspecified restaurant in
the town below.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“…and then we switched places, and soon everyone in the chorus was
playing `musical chairs’!” laughed Patrick. Reminiscing was pleasant with
Amelia; she seemed to enjoy his discourse, and found amusing those exploits
he’d all but forgotten. At forty-three he was still in his prime, but he’d
started so young that many of his memories of the stage were more than twenty-
five years in the past. She was a novice, just starting out in her first
large part and showing tremendous promise — he was happy to be a part of this
experience for her, and knew she depended on him a great deal. She was per-
haps twenty-four or -five, but commanded much dignity for one so young. She’d
go far…

Amelia laughed with childish eagerness, amazed to hear some of the
finer points of the behind-stage antics of what were some of her favorite
productions. She was dressed in a light, summery dress that grazed her
shoulders and allowed her freedom of movement, weary of the tightly clinging
garments she wore for the better part of each day of filming. She leaned
toward him in a gesture of innocence and trust, delineating even more the
small space between them. They’d almost finished their meal, a pasta made
sweet with basil and herbs and accompanied by a chickory salad and a good
white wine. The waiters brought extra tidbits throughout the evening to
Amelia, who jokingly passed them along to Patrick. They both declined a
sweet, looking forward to a coffee in the quiet of the trailers later.

“Shall we go now, before these Lotharios decide to tag along behind
you?” he quipped. It was getting late and they did have to be ready for
makeup at 6 o’clock in the morning.

“Hmm…I suppose we should. It’s a shame to have to stop our talk
here, though. I’ve been learning a lot from you, Patrick, and I appreciate
the fact that you’re here when I need you. I’d like the opportunity to get
to know you better, I think we have the potential to become good friends.
Maybe you can even be my mentor.” she teased.

“Or, perhaps, your Svengali. I’ve always fancied myself a psycho-
logical Frankenstein…” mused Patrick.

The drive back was uneventful and decidedly too short. The night
was perfect for a long walk, but they didn’t have the time to call their own.

“Would you like to have a nightcap? I really don’t want to end the
evening right now. I have a good recipe for Irish coffee…” Amelia offered.

“Alright, but we’d best part company soon. We are creatures of our
contracts, you know.”

“It doesn’t take that long to make coffee, and I’m sure you’ll make
short work of the drink…you did with everything else tonight! How you can
eat calamari I’ll never know!”

“I like squid.” was his typical reply.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“You know, I’ve been a fan of yours for a long time; I can hardly
believe I’m actually working with you on a movie!” breathed Amelia, with
something akin to wonder. Her coffee was long since gone, and Patrick was
having his third. The surrealism of the past weeks’ events, coupled with
the alcohol which always made her introspective, produced a quality of
vulnerability in her expression. She leaned against Patrick as naturally
as though it were a lifelong habit, and his arms encircled her gently.

“Have you?” he whispered. It was an unusual friendship they shared,
founded on mutual respect and admiration. They had come to know each other
very well in a short period of time, and he brooded on the fact that he may
have allowed himself to become too close. She was everything he’d ever
imagined she’d be in their shared art, and would grow even more than she
already had, given the chance. And he didn’t feel the least constrained,
wasn’t bored by her chatter and didn’t dread her company as he did with most
of his leads. Amelia was, in his estimation, the epitome of the ideal
companion.

“Patrick? What’s the matter?” she asked. He stiffened a bit, a
little annoyed she sensed his moods so easily. He’d never before been an
easy cipher.

“Nothing, I’m just thinking.” He relaxed, and chided himself. It
was a lucky man who could win the concern of a woman like Amelia. “I’ve
been reflecting on how quickly we’ve gone through the traditional getting-to-
know-you phase of this relationship. It’s uncanny how easy it is for you to
read me.”

“Oh.” Grey eyes gazed out into the dim room. Then a warm body
pressed into his, and the kitten-soft lashes framing those glorious eyes
brushed his cheek. Their fluttering, and the light, shallow breath pulsing
against his throat made Patrick Harrison, a normally deliberate and con-
scientious man, renowned the world over for his ability to bring strength
to any production whose presence he graced, miss his cue for the first time
in his life; only when Amelia half-smiled, and pulled his mouth to hers, did
he realize he’d stopped breathing.

They kissed exquisitely, cherishing the contours of each others’
lips, and teeth, and tongues. Exhaling rapidly into her mouth, Patrick
almost stopped cold at the feelings she elicited in him. It was a shock to
experience such joy, and tenderness, and passion… he had been blase about
the whole issue of sex after the tumultuous three years or so following his
awkward first fumblings with a girl he’d thought he loved. Now, this sweet
creature had reawakened emotions he’d believed long-dead. He moaned against
her cheek, raining kisses along her eyelids and nose. Amelia nuzzled his
jaw, amazed at her own, intense desires. She didn’t know what she should
do, though, not being sure what Patrick would like; he wasn’t exactly a
schoolboy, he was decidedly a man who knew his own mind. Her own mind was
refusing to respond, anyway, her pleasure sensors taking over…she
abandoned reason and gave in to more primal instincts.

Amelia felt large, warm hands caressing her back. Patrick pulled
her with him as he reclined, and held her on top of him. She was writhing
sensuously against him, and teasing his throat with light nips and occasional
flicks of her tongue; he responded in kind, tracing her jaw from her chin to
her ear and sucking the lobe. Her breathing quickened perceptibly and she
ground her hips against his. She was driving the hardening, thickening length
of his penis against her swelling mound, rubbing up and down and making her
moves more precise and deliberate. Patrick, in answer, pulled the skirt of
her dress up over her thigh and began kneading her tender flesh. His penis
was so full now he felt as though he’d explode.

“Amelia, help me. Lift up so I can pull this damned dress off you!”
he whispered. His vocal cords would have been useless for anything else.

Amelia got up abruptly, lifting her dress up in one swift movement.
Her breasts were small, but high and firm and she had no need for a bra. Her
panties were tiny scraps of white cotton held together with lace, a tiny
curtain for the triangle of curly blonde hair trying to peep through. Her
eyes lowering suddenly, she blushed; it served to make her look even more
enticing, and shifted subtly the tint in her small, pink nipples. Then, with
a determined look, she reached down to Patrick’s shirt and started to
unbutton it.

Her hair fell in honeyed waves as she leaned forward, and Patrick
caught a handful and kissed it swiftly. He could barely keep his hands off
her, but he wanted to let her make all the moves. She reached in as his shirt
was half undone and ran her hands lightly over his chest and across his
nipples. She rolled her thumbs and forefingers around them gently, and gave
slight, insistent pulls until they were so erect they ached; he finished
taking off his shirt and pulled her head softly to his chest. Amelia touched
the tip of her tongue briefly to each nipple, then circled first one, then
the other before fastening on them. She allowed one hand to drift down over
the bulge she’d thrilled to earlier, to massage its length and to caress it.
Her other hand occupied itself with Patrick’s other nipple, his entire body
now sensitive to her every move.

Amelia worked her fingers underneath his waistband, teasing him. He
unzipped his slacks and pushed her away enough for him to slide them halfway
off. She rose, and pulled him by his hands; he stepped out of the pants and
positioned his thumbs inside the waist of his briefs, but she caught his
hands and pulled them away. She knelt before him and pulled down, slowly, on
the undergarment until his penis was in full view. Amelia smiled, and hugged
his thighs; then she placed her tongue on the base of his penis and began
stroking him up and down, sucking with her lips at the base of the glans and
lowering her mouth over the whole organ. Patrick wove his hands into her
hair, and held her, and thrusted into her throat whenever she covered him.
She was soft and gentle and yielding and she was doing the most incredible
things to him with those luscious lips!

With growing intensity she sucked every inch of him, wrapping her
tongue around him and massaging his tightly clenched buttocks. She had him
at her mercy, she knew; she was also aware, for the first time, that she was
the one who’d initiated contact to begin with. It was with some amazement
that she realized he was shaking and whispering her name…

“Patrick? Are you alright?” she queried with a bemused smile.

“Dear God, Amelia, you don’t know what you’ve done to me! I’m an old
man, remember? I don’t think I can move.” he breathed as he collapsed onto
the couch. Amelia leaned forward and kissed him lightly.

“Would you like to try to get as far as the bedroom? Once there you
won’t have to do *too* much.”

With that promise in mind Patrick found the strength necessary to
follow right behind her.

“Here, isn’t this better?” She held out her hands to him and pulled
him down beside her. He quickly pinned her to the bed and began kissing
her hair, her eyes, her nose, her mouth; making her gasp aloud as his lips
and tongue traveled down her throat and lit on her breasts. He circled
the dark pink aureoles, one after the other, lavishing his tongue over each
nipple and teasing them until they stood tautly away from her breasts.
Patrick was the one to take note, this time, of the effect his efforts were
having — Amelia’s mouth was drawn into a small “o” and her eyes were tightly
closed. Her skin was incredibly smooth, he thought, scented of baby powder
and glistening with a fine sheen of perspiration.

Amelia’s eyes flew open as her back arched involuntarily, thrusting
her hips out and opening herself to Patrick’s exploring tongue. She wasn’t
expecting such a sudden change in his attentions, and this unpreparedness
compounded the searing heat in her loins. His fingers penetrated the soft
folds of her labia, searching for and spreading her natural lubrication. The
tip of his tongue buried itself just above her clitoris and, having found the
rapidly swelling organ, began circling it. His lips teased as well, sucking
gently then kissing the little button of deep-pink flesh until it was nearly
double its original size. Patrick balanced much of his weight on his elbows,
which were atop Amelia’s thighs, to keep her from bucking and finishing this
game too soon…there were many more tricks to teach her before allowing her
to reach her climax.

“Patrick…more, please, more…can’t take much more of this!” she
begged. Her whole body seemed numb, all her senses centred on the remarkable
feelings his tongue and fingers were eliciting. He slipped his tongue into
her vagina, savoring the sweetness that was almost overpowering. He could
feel her muscles contract in an involuntary effort to drag his face even
closer than he already was, and knew it was time to give her what she (and
he) both wanted.

Patrick pulled himself to his knees and gazed into the fevered eyes
and flushed face of the beautiful girl who had become a part of his life in
an incredibly short time. She sincerely liked him, he could tell…and he
liked her *very* much. The emotional always enhanced the physical…

“Please, don’t stop now, I need you, Patrick! I want you to make love
to me.” Her simple plea was a ragged whisper, and her hips twitched in
anticipation of his next move. He grasped them and lifted them and positioned
the tip of his penis at the glistening entrance of her vagina. With infinite
slowness, and great care to prevent her hips from moving, he penetrated her
completely. Her creamy folds engulfed his length, and he could see her now-
protruding clitoris quiver in hopes of direct stimulation. Patrick massaged
her buttocks firmly and tightly, and began to grind himself into her; he
withdrew reluctantly, then pulled her to him as he thrust. He felt her legs
encircle him and draw him closer, but he retained his control and refused to
put down her hips. Her vagina was tight, but her natural secretions made it
wet and inviting.

He placed one hand under the small of her back and brought the other
around front. Her quiet moans crescendoed as he used his thumb to rub her
clitoris, and he felt her body shake. Amelia pulled herself forward and
grabbed Patrick’s head, drawing him to her waiting, open mouth. He moved
slowly downward, releasing her lower body and hugging her to him as he reached
for her kiss; as their lips met he began thrusting methodically and deliber-
ately, increasing his tempo quickly. Their pelvises ground together and their
legs entwined and, after that well-timed kiss, their eyes remained locked.

The intensity of their rythmic coupling made them lose track of time.
Amelia felt the first tiny quivers of orgasm building and tightened her hold
on Patrick’s back. He followed her pace, allowing himself to loosen his
restraint and begin his own climb towards release. Waves of excitement and
sexual heat rippled through her spine and focused on her vagina as his penis
stroked her insides faster and faster: her clitoris seemed to reach out to
him and was rewarded with a throbbing assault by his pelvic bones. His
testicles slapped against her with every thrust, and the backs of her thighs
and her buttocks were brushed and tickled by his thick nest of pubic hair.

Breathing heavily, and hearing his blood scream in his ears, Patrick
forced himself to hold back until he felt her vagina constrict against him,
proof of her own orgasm. It was vitally important to him to make this good
for Amelia, and watching the look on her face as she climaxed would enhance
his own enjoyment. She was caught up in the incredibly fast pace of their
lovemaking, and was thrusting back as strongly and eagerly as he. The
seeming innocence in her eyes created the strangest sensation of longing in
him, made him want to hold her forever and satisfy her every desire; that
last he could do, obviously — he grinned, then grimaced as a spark of
urgency spurred him on to even more furious lunges.

“Pat, I’m cumming…I’m cumming!” shrieked Amelia, clawing him to her
and locking him between her legs. She bucked and pushed against his back,
driving him even further inside her. His testicles demanded release, and
he drove into her with a shudder.

“Amelia…so good…oh, God, Amelia…” he breathed as he felt his
semen shoot through the tip of his penis and into her quaking vagina. They
lay tangled together until they fell asleep.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” Patrick whispered into Amelia’s ear. It
would soon be time to be made up for the morning’s filming and his sixth
sense for time had awoken him on schedule. Her honey-colored hair fanned
across her cheek, and he brushed it away as she opened her eyes. She saw
him and smiled, then stretched and looked for all the world like a sleepy
kitten.

“Hmm…I almost thought last night was just a dream, Patrick. I feel
so *good* this morning!” she purred, “…and hungry.” as an afterthought.

“Well, you should be hungry, after all that exercise.” he teased.

“I never would have believed it would be like this if anyone had told
me…I’d always heard it would be painful.” mused Amelia.

With a start Patrick turned: “You’re not telling me this was your
first time?” The incredulity on his face made her laugh.

“Yes, Patrick, you `deflowered’ me!” quipped she with much amusement.

“Oh, Amelia, I’m sorry — I had no idea, you should have told me -”

“Patrick,” she interrupted, “I wanted you as much as you wanted me. I
still want to be with you, to go out with you, to stay in with you. I like
what you taught me about myself, and I appreciate the fact that you were
gentle even though you didn’t know I’d never done it before. I guess I’ve
just never wanted to before…you’re the only man I’ve ever been this com-
fortable with and I don’t want you to feel guilty about making me feel good!”

With a slow smile Patrick held out his arms and she snuggled against
him eagerly. “I suppose I’m too old-fashioned to take the surrender of your
virginity that lightly. I like you, Amelia, and that could turn into some-
thing more with time. And Heaven knows we have time!”

“You never know…but I’d like to have you teach me about some of the
finer points of lovemaking. I’m sure I can be a good pupil.” she said as she
pulled away and started to rise; “Why don’t we practice again tonight?”

“You know, they say you’re a natural…”

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..

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!

–

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..

I walked over and asked her if she minded if I shared her table. It
was early and there were several tables available, but I wanted to
chance it anyways. She said it was fine and then went back to her
book.

The waiter came over and I ordered just a cup of coffee as I wasn’t
in the mood for much more than coffee and her. The waiter winked at
me, smiling. I was a regular here, and he rushed off, swishing this
way and that, to get me my favorite house brand. The lady appeared to
not have noticed he was even there.

I was used to this sort of thing… lots of young, career,
professional, yuppie females come into this place, looking to meet Mr.
Right, or looking to impress this boss or that. They liked to drink
their coffee, sit at their tables and look good, and more often than
not I’d end up taking them home and using them like they wanted to be
used, then sending them on their way. Tonight seemed like it’d be
nothing out of the ordinary. I could get through her book and touch
that animalistic part of her that brought her here.

The waiter brought me my coffee and swished away, trailing his hand
across my shoulder as he past me by. I smiled and shook my head,
looking around surreptitiously. I caught her glancing my way and
smirked. She could be had…

I looked at the book she was so enthralled by and read the title. I
was slightly surprised and pleased to see that she was reading one of
my favorites, a new book called “The Living One”.

“You read much horror?” I asked her.

She looked up at me, slightly confused, and said “Beg pardon?”

“You read much horror?”

“Oh! This. Yes… I pick up a book now and then. I like coming in
here and finding some dark corner and curl up with a good suspense
story. What about you? I take it you’ve read this?” She held up her
book so that I could get a better view of the spine.

“It’s one of my favorites… in fact I have an autographed copy in my
library. Maybe you’d like to see it sometime.” I hinted with a
slight smile, just barely parting my lips.

“Maybe…. but you’ll have to do better than that.” She laughed
lightly, shaking her head and tossing her hair to the side.

With her hair out of the way I could see her ear, smooth and clean and
milky white. And pinned neatly in the lobe was a gold and silver
labrys, with a diamond at the head of the axe-handle that caught the
light and sparkled. Then her hair fell back into place and the sight
of her ear was taken from me until some later time….

I continued to look at her, roaming my eyes across her face, seeing
each line in her forehead, each little smile-crease around her eyes,
and each pore of her cheeks. Her skin was white and powdery. Her
cheekbones were high and well pronounced. Her eyelashes were just
long enough to twitch when she smiled at me.

Her eyes…. one was a deep green and one was brown, and in both the
pupils had “broken” making trails down through the color and into the
white. She looked like a cat, with those eyes.

She had sat there the entire time I was staring at her, with a slight
smile on her face, and her tongue just barely flickering in and out of
her teeth. When she saw that I was done she locked gazes with me and
asked me, “You like what you saw?”

I just barely breathed “very much.”

“Good.” She returned to her book.

I thought my chances were nill at this point so I moved to get up,
before I had even half-risen her arm shot out and grabbed mine.
“Sit,” she said. Her eyes never left the page that she was reading.

I sat back down and looked at her. Now it was my turn to be puzzled.
What did she want? Who did she think she was? Who did she think *I*
was?

So we just sat there for a little while, the waiter coming back now
and then to ask me if everything was okay, to wink at me, to get me
more coffee, and to swish in my general direction.

People came and went, talking, flirting, picking each other up,
looking each other over, and still we just sat there, not a word said.
But every time I tried to get up she’d pull me back and I’d hear that
…End of the part1. To be continued..

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

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

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

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

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!

–