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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—————————————————————–
—————————————————————–
—————————————————————————-
Please don’t send requests for reposts, missing parts, GIFs, FTP sites, etc.
If you find getting stories from this newsgroup inconvenient, the archive
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the THC Public archive should contact me at: tommy@f26.n340.z1.fidonet.org.
Please refer comments to alt.sex.stories.d or to e-mail. Thank you.
-=( Tommy )=-

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..

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Care to elaborate on that?” I asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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

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

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

–

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

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

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

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

“This is heaven,” she whispered.

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

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

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

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

–

by Sean Devon

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I could feel her smiling
I smiled for years

“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…”

“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.

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..

She was standing in the bathroom powdering and rubbing lotion
onto her legs. She had a dark towel wrapped around her body and
another around her head. The bathroom was warm and steamy from
the shower as she wiped the mirror to look at herself. Thoughts
about today’s presentation were running through her head. She
was excited about the topic, and felt good about the work it
represented. Lipstick, she thought, a little lipstick. The
shower door opened, and she turned to kiss her lover. “Open your
towel” he said, in a low voice. Her mind, somewhere else, came
skidding back to his words, “Huh?” She was a little confused.
“Open your towel” he said again, pantomiming what he wanted her
to do, holding his hands wide. She blushed and shook her head
no. “Yes” he said, simply, a command. She undid the towel,
embarrassed, her mind filled with thoughts of being too heavy and
being unattractive. “Wider” he said. And she complied, not
raising her eyes. He murmured something appreciative, but she
barely heard. One warm finger traced a line from nipple to just
below her navel. “Beautiful” was his last word as he walked past
her, out into the bedroom. She stood there, nude and shaking for
a moment as he shut the door. Only after he had gone, did she
realize he was naked, too, but she hadn’t even noticed.

–

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..

He waved a hand in front of him, setting off ripples in the pond
where he was sitting, “I would imagine so, the water here in the
pond is warm enough to not even need a swimsuit.” He watched her
walking towards him, the waterfall had turned her suit almost
transparent, but it was her hazel eyes, set off by her brown hair
that captivated him.

He also knew that what she saw in him had nothing to do with his
dark hair and blue eyes. There were other features that kept her
by his side. Other features he was sure they would explore now
that they had the full evening to themselves. It had been his
idea to rent the “Tropical Room” at the SensaSuites hotel, and
the room had lived up to its billing. The main feature was the
waterfall pouring into the pool. A rock cave, dimly lit, had a
stone pedestal which hid the bed, and the occasional noises of
the jungle were piped in through hidden speakers. Not that he was
planning on studying wildlife.

She sat down beside him, and ran a hand through the hair on his
chest. He turned, and placing himself behind her, began to
massage her neck and shoulders, pausing now and again to kiss her
neck. A few minutes passed, and he could feel her muscles relax.
Smiling, he untied the bow which held the one piece up, and let
the suit fall away from her body. His hands now caressed her
back, then came around the sides to gently stroke her ample
breasts. Moving closer, his right hand began teasing her nipple
as his left hand moved across her stomach, and began massaging
her thigh.

Her back arched slightly, and his hand moved from her thigh to
massage her pussy. The outer lips parted, and he ran his palm
against her clit, stoking her inner fires.

“You think you can bring me here and then have your way with me?”
she panted, teasingly. “Well… oh that feels good… you’re
right.” And her legs opened even wider, allowing him to place two
fingers into her pussy as he continued to stroke her clit.

This was not a one-way street, however. As he watched the passion
rise in her, his dick rose as well. She began bucking her hips
against his hand, and he began to pull at her nipples, making
them hard. She moved faster, and he put a third finger inside the
warm tunnel of her pussy, stroking her inside and out.

She inched back against him, and her hips grinded against his
dick, still covered by his suit. He thought about fixing that,
but didn’t want to interrupt the pace they had going. As if she
had read his mind, she reached her hands back, and with him
lifting up slightly, was able to pull down his suit, freeing the
long, hard dick like a jack-in-the-box.

“I … want you… in me. I want… all of you… in me.” She
gasped. He leaned back, and helped her scoot into his lap, then
he felt her hands directing his cock into her cunt. “Oh… that
feels… much better.” she groaned.

Both of his hands were roughly kneading her breasts as she moved
up and down against him. She leaned forward slightly, and he
could feel her playing with his balls as her pussy grabbed at his
dick. “You’re such a hot… cunt. I love to fuck… with you.” He
moaned.

They were both panting and grabbing now, wrapped up in each
other. He felt the trembling of her pussy around his dick, and
knew she was starting to ride her orgasm. The shuddering of her
cunt muscles sent him over the edge, and he could feel his cock
spurting from his own orgasm.

They laid back in the pond, his back against the “shore”, his
dick still inside her. Resting for a few minutes in the warmth of
each other, his fingers idly brushed her legs and stomach. He
felt her get up, and thought she was going to get dressed for
dinner. He was about to get up when he felt her hands pushing him
back down.

“You didn’t think I was through already, did you?” She said,
staring into his eyes. Then she ducked under the water, and in a
moment he could feel her lips wrapping around his dick. Her head
bobbed in and out of the water, and he was surprised and pleased
to feel his cock responding to her ministrations. “Oh… I love
it when you suck me… take it all… take all of me.” He
grunted.

Slowly, not losing a stroke, she moved farther and farther down
his shaft, until his balls were slapping against her. She
came off, just a bit, to allow her hand to squeeze and tug at his
balls as she continued sucking his dick. He noticed her other
hand moving between her legs as she began to stroke her pussy in
time with the movements of her head.

He moved his hips up, so that his ass was clear of the water, and
her sucking intensified. He could feel her tounge tracing the
veins in his shaft as he moved between her lips. “Ahh… I’m
going to cum… I can feel it in my balls…” he nearly screamed
as his orgasm hit him, and she continued to hold him in her
mouth, swallowing, and sucking until he was spent.

When he caught his breath, he asked her, “Can I assume we’ll be
using room service tonight?”

She smiled, “Depends on what you had in mind…”

“Oh, something like this.” He said, suddenly picking her out of
the water, and carrying her to the warm waterbed.

“I didn’t think you went in for that macho junk.” She stretched
on the bed to make sure he knew what she meant.

“Oh, every now and then those primal urges just overtake me.” And
with that he began licking and sucking on her toes.

It was going to be quite an evening.

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..

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)

BUT, as I zoomed down the parkway at 72, (well actually in a
Vett versus my normal car, I thought I was putting the
inevitable cop lights came on and I was pulled over. Great.
More points on my license.
He asked me to step outside the car, normal sobriety check I
guess, and asked for my license. Well this state trooper was
very handsome, and I was feeling lonely, I almost asked him out
after he ticketed me though. Upon taking out my license, I
spilled my purse, with it a switch blade my BROTHER gave me for
protection!!! that was it, I was told to spread ‘em, hands
against the car, he frisked me, and when he got to my crotch,
remember now, I lost my panties at the party, he came across a
bare pussy. He stopped his hand for a moment, and asked me if I
always went around in December without underwear,
I said I did it in case I met a cute cop. Anyway, he asks
for registration and insurance, guess what, my BROTHER didn’t
keep them in his glove compartment!!! SHITHEAD! So here I am,
cuffed, apparently for GRAND THEFT FUCKING AUTO, and shoved into
the front seat of the police car (is that standard procedure?)
Anyway I was laughing so hard, it was ludicrous, mom and
Dad’s little Miss Dean’s List, and the last good girl arrested
for GRAND THEFT FUCKING AUTO AND concealment of a weapon!! He
didn’t arrest me yet, i don’t think he ever planned to either,
and he never called it in, curious, huh?
But at the time i thought it was for real. I explained it
was my brother’s car and my brother’s knife…Ugh..He asked me if
I liked being handcuffed, I said sexually yeah, getting arrested
NO. So he said I could leave if I wanted, I said no. he
rearranged the cuffs to above my head, attached to some handle on
the ceiling, and asked me to spread ‘em again..This time I was
happy to oblige.
He kept fingering me ands rubbing my clit almost to orgasm,
and then would stop , it was driving me crazy. He ran his
fingertips over my nipples till I moaned and begged him to fuck
me. He took his cock out of his pants and rubbed it while
pinching my tits. All the while exclaiming over my body. Since
he couldn’t get the dress down because of my handcuffs, he pulled
the dress up and over my head, around the cuffs.
With my arms up, my tits jutted out and he exclaimed again
about how he always dreamed of doing this with someone like me,
he loved big nipples and breasts. He licked and suckled my
nipples and fingered me till I came. He jacked off after and
shot his come all over my tits and rubbed it in, pinching my
nipples in the process. I didn’t think i would like this, but it
was a turn on.
I asked him to eat me out, he hunched down and licked me and
sucked me so wonderfully, all I could think of was wanting to go
down on Dan. He eventually became hard again, rearranged me so I
could turn around, and entered me from behind. I love this
position.
He had some trouble at first because he had to adjust to the
size and tension of my pussy, but I was very wet, so it averted
any unpleasantness. He pumped me and squeezed my chest, it was
wonderful. He came on my ass, and then used the cum to lubricate
my ass and finger fuck me both ways. My idea of getting stopped
by a cop has changed….But alas most state troopers are middle
aged beer bellied men…..Ah well….It was nice.

I had stayed home from work to do some things around the house
that needed taking care of. Actually, it was sort of a “mental health” day
rather than a vacation or legal holiday. The kids were in school, so I had
the house to myself. About 9:00, I was surprised to hear the front doorbell
ringing. Putting down my coffee cup, I went to answer it.

“Hi Jim. Can I come in?”

It was Cindy, who had been my wife’s best friend. I couldn’t
imagine why she had decided to pay me a visit, but I also couldn’t think of a
good reason not to let her in.

“Sure, come on in Cindy. Want a cup of coffee?”

“That’d be great, thanks.”

I got her a cup of coffee and we went to the living room and sat
down. I sat on the couch, she sat in my easy chair. It was a warm, late
Spring day and she had on a pair of shorts and a halter top which did little
to conceal the tight curves of her cute little body. Cindy is 40, but you’d
never know it. She has the body of a 20 year old and she knows how to show it
off. It used to bug Lana (my wife) sometimes when she’d come over in one of
her special outfits, but Lana didn’t have anything to worry about in the looks
department herself, so it was never a real problem. Cindy has dark brown hair
and brown eyes, stands about 5-5 and weighs about 115 lbs. Like I said, she
has tight curves.

She seemed nervous as she opened the conversation.

“I suppose you’re wondering why I came over this morning.”

“Well, yes, I guess you could say that.”

“I need your help with a problem.”

“Oh?” I was thinking to myself that she should be having this
conversation with her husband Bob, but she anticipated that.

“Bob can’t help me with this problem. In fact, he’s the problem,
or at least part of it.”

“Sounds to me like you need a marriage counsellor.”

“Bob would never go. And besides, we can’t afford it right now.”

“So, how do you think I can help?”

“Well, ” she paused, seemingly to work herself up to the point of
making some startling statement, “I want you to help Bob perform better
sexually.”

The temperature in the room seemed to rise about ten degrees. It
was so quiet that the fly buzzing in the window across the room seemed very
loud. I looked at Cindy, but she was looking at her hands which were folded
at her knees.

“In what way?”

“Bob doesn’t believe a man should perform oral sex on a woman,
though he doesn’t mind asking me to perform it on him.”

“You’re kidding.” I’d heard of guys like that, but I never would
have suspected that Bob was one of them. Bob and I had always gotten along
well, though I wouldn’t say that our relationship had been as close as Cindy
and Lana’s had been.

To buy some time, I went to get more coffee. I was feeling a
little light headed. What a bombshell. Bob wouldn’t give her head. I
supposed that she just wanted me to talk to him about it, try to convince him
of the error of his ways.

I returned to my seat on the couch and flinched inwardly as Cindy
moved to join me. She pulled her long, shapely legs up under her and twisted
to face me.

“Does he satisfy you in other ways?”

“Sort of. He does o.k. in the stamina department and I have
orgasms most of the time. But it’s very frustrating to hear about other women
whose husbands and boyfriends give head when mine won’t. We argue about it
more and more now. We haven’t had sex for about a month.”

“Why come to me about this? Bob must have closer friends.”

“Jim, Lana was my best friend. We shared everything with each
other. She knew about Bob’s reluctance and she wanted to tell you about it,
but I wouldn’t let her. She also told me what a wonderful lover you were and
how she had multiple climaxes every time you two got it on. She especially
used to tell me how much she enjoyed it when you gave her head. Did you
really do it for an hour at a time … until she begged you to stop because
she couldn’t stand any more?”

“I didn’t put a stopwatch to it Cindy,” I chuckled, a little
embarrassed at Cindy’s knowledge of what I had thought to be private matters,
“but I know she liked that, and I used to really enjoy giving her pleasure in
that way. Damn, I miss that woman.”

I looked down at the carpet and thought about all the great times
Lana and I had enjoyed in the sack. We both liked to fuck and we did it as
often as possible. I knew of some marriages where after the kids came along,
the wife would lose interest in sex. Not Lana. In fact, the day she was
killed, she was on her way home to meet me for a little “afternoon delight.”
Unfortunately, a drunk driver put an end to my beautiful wife and our
wonderful marriage. Still, whenever I thought of Lana and the good times we
had, my prick would spring to life and I would get a powerful urge to go and
jack off just to relieve the pressure. Usually, I resisted.

I was startled from my reverie when Cindy moved to me and put her
arms around my neck, pulling my head to her chest.

“I miss her too, Jim. Can you help me?”

I looked up into those huge eyes of hers and whispered yes. I
still can’t explain or excuse what happened next, but suddenly our lips met,
my arms went around her, and we were kissing. Not the way friends kiss, but
like lovers. Soon our tongues got into the act and we each began a slow,
passionate exploration of the other’s mouth.

Almost on cue, we both broke the kiss.

“I need you to do more than talk to Bob,” Cindy whispered
breathlessly. “I’m as hot blooded as Lana was, Jim. A month without any sex
has me just about headed for the loony bin. Please Jim, go down on me.”

By this time, my cock was about ready to rip through the fabric of
the shorts I was wearing and my balls had taken over my brain. Not having had
sex for a year, I nearly ripped her clothes off right there and fucked her
brains out. I did have the self-discipline remaining to escort her to my
bedroom, however, and we were soon naked on my large, lonely, king size
waterbed, where we resumed kissing and each began a gentle anatomy survey.

“What a cock you have, Jim. It’s even bigger than Bob’s.”

“I thought it was my tongue you were after, not my cock.”

“I’m hoping to get some of each.”

“All in good time, Cindy, all in good time. First, let’s have a
look at you,” I smiled as I pulled away from her to examine her nude form.
She smiled back and seemed to enjoy my visual inspection as she moved this way
and that to show her body to its best advantage. I just loved the way her
tits rode high on her chest, refusing to flatten out even though she was
laying on her back. Her nipples were large and hard, sticking straight up
from the base of her comparatively small and very dark areolas. Her narrow
waist and flat tummy lead down to a set of perfectly shaped hips and long,
handsomely formed legs. I did see one small problem however. “I think that I
can see one reason why Bob is a little reluctant to go down on you,” I said
pointing to the thick, heavy thatch of pubic hair at the junction of Cindy’s
thighs, “One of the secrets of good oral sex, in my humble opinion, is a trim
pubic patch, or better yet, no pubic patch at all. Don’t go away, I’ll be
right back.”

I quickly dashed into the master bath and returned with my
barbering tools, remembering activities which had become almost a ritual for
Lana and me.

“Didn’t Lana tell you that I used to keep her nice and neat down
there?” I asked as I arranged everything to my satisfaction.

“Yes she did, but I never really believed her. Are you planning
to shave off all of my pussy hair?”

“No. Just the hair that gets in the way of good oral sex.
Actually, it’s not that much more than many women do in order to wear those
string bikinis.”

She was very cooperative as I arranged a towel under her ass and
used a scissors to clip away her thick, dark bush until only a short stubble
remained on the area I intended to shave. The other area, at the very top of
her pubic mound, I trimmed only slightly for the sake of neatness. Then,
after using a warm, wet washcloth to moisten the area to be shaved, I applied
a thick coating of a special shaving jell for sensitive skin and went to work
with my razor. When I was finished, she had a tiny patch of pubic hair left
on the top of her mound, but the rest was as bare and smooth as a baby’s butt.
I placed a mirror in front of her pussy and let her have a look at my
handiwork. I also got rid of the towel and my tools while she conducted her
inspection.

“Wow,” she exclaimed, “This is the first time I’ve ever really
taken a look at myself down there.” She worked the folds of her pussy open
with her fingers to examine herself more closely. Her inner lips were swollen
with excitement and protruded beyond the thick outer lips. I began to massage
the area with a special, soothing, oil. Cindy laid back on the bed and moved
her hands out of my way, giving me complete access. Finishing the massage
with some gentle strokes to both sets of pussy lips, I removed the towel and
shaving paraphanalia and got ready for the job at hand, or should I say mouth.

I spread her legs as far as they would go, pushing her knees back
a little, and placed myself between them. She had a beautiful cunt, and she
was hot for a good fucking. Leaning forward, I planted a light kiss right at
the top of her pubic mound, then, moving down, I bypassed the seat of her
pleasure and began to lightly kiss and lick the insides of her thighs,
switching from one side to the other, bathing my senses in the silken feel of
her skin, the taste of her light perfume, the odor of sexual excitement
pouring from her frothy cunt.

Placing my hands under her ass, I gently lifted her bottom off the
bed and began to kiss those firm globes, occasionally nipping them lightly
with my teeth. She was trembling with excitement and, I believe, a little
frustration. She wanted my mouth on her box. I wanted her to wait for it so
as to enjoy it more later and so I continued to tease her.

“C’mon, Jim,” she moaned, “don’t tease me like that.”

“Like what?”

“You know what I want … please.”

“Tell me what you want. Be specific. I want to hear you say it.”

She was breathing hard and her hips were undulating slightly as
she sought to press her pussy into my face. She did not want to say the
words, but I was determined to make her say them. I continued to kiss and nip
the area all around her now superheated sex flesh with out contacting it
directly.

“Lick me,” she moaned. I licked the inside of her thigh.

“Nooooo … lick my …. lick … lick my …”

“Lick your what Cindy?”

“Lick my … pussy,” she gasped.

I immediately moved my mouth over her gash, which was now leaking
a steady trickle of thick feminine lubricant which crawled slowly down her ass
crack from the base of her pussy, leaving a shiny trail across her tightly
puckered back door. The strong, musky flavor of her sex was like a narcotic
for me, and one which I had gone too long without. I began to slowly, but
very firmly, massage her major labia with my tongue, working first one side
and then the other. Cindy liked this very much, which she indicated by
pushing her hips up off the bed to increase the pressure. I continued the
tongue massage for a few minutes and then switched tactics, taking as much of
one of her thick outer pussy lips into my mouth as possible and then sucking
on it. The thick flesh, so recently devoid of pubic hair, was newly
responsive, and taking it between my lips also caused me to come into contact
with the super sensitive inner surface of her major labial folds with my lips
and tongue which I worked vigorously back and forth as I sucked.

Cindy began to make an almost pitiful mewling sound from deep in
the back of her throat. I thought she was going to come right there and I
hadn’t even gotten to her clit yet. The scene reminded me so much of the many
times I had done this to Lana that I almost began to weep.

Cindy’s eyes were shut tight and she had grabbed two handfuls of
bedspread. Her hips were in almost constant motion now, making it a real
challenge for me to stay with her. Her breathing was ragged between clenched
teeth as her first orally induced orgasm approached.

I was still working her outer lips one at a time, sucking them
into my mouth, pulling them away from her crotch, causing her to lift her hips
off the bed to stay with me, working them with my tongue. Meanwhile, I was
also using the index finger of my right hand to very gently caress the outer
edges of her inner labia, very carefully avoiding her clit. Her own juices
and my saliva had combined to make a real swamp out of her pussy. A small
puddle was forming on the bed beneath her ass. I was wallowing in the taste
and smell of feminine flesh, and her moans became a symphony of sexual
thirst.

She was squealing her pleasure now, her head moving from side to
side on the pillow. In between squeals she was mumbling about how good it
felt and how close she was to coming.

Replacing my finger action with my tongue, I switched tactics and
began to run my tongue quickly and lightly all around her inner pussy lips,
brushing her clitoral ridge, without touching the hypersensitive tip, on each
pass. Occasionally, I would use the flat of my tongue to lick the slick flesh
between those inner lips and the thicker outer lips, using my fingers to
expose the area I was attacking with my mouth. She began to come, her whole
body tensing into something like the rictus of death, then relaxing, then
tensing again as wave after wave of pleasure overtook her. As soon as I felt
her start to come, I immediately began to flick the head of her very erect,
very large clitoris with quick strokes of the tip of my tongue. Cindy
screamed as her pleasure sensors overloaded. I was glad the windows were
closed or else the whole neighborhood would have been able to hear her.

My experience as a pussy licker told me when to back off a little
and let her come down, still maintaining contact with my tongue and lips, but
avoiding direct contact with her clit for the moment, noting that it had
retracted back into its folds of skin, though the flesh was still firm and
erect underneath its protective covering. Her body was still undulating,
though not with the force of a few moments ago. Her hands were caressing my
head, her fingers running through my hair. She apparently thought I was done.

Boy was she ever wrong.

I looked up at her and discovered that she was looking down
at me from between her high, proud, breasts, a dreamy smile of sexual
satisfaction on her face.

“Wow, Jim. That was the most incredible thing I’ve ever
experienced.”

“Well, I’m a little out of practice, but thank you anyway. Now
lay back and relax. I’m not done eating yet.”

“Not done? I must have come six times already. You mean there’s
more?”

“Lana wasn’t kidding when she told you these sessions lasted a
long time. I am a man who really enjoys going down on a woman, particularly a
woman who tastes as good as you.”

Without waiting for a response, I began once again to massage her
outer pussy lips with my mouth, but this time, I added something new. Using
the index and middle fingers of my right hand, I probed the depths of her
vagina, pressing upward, searching for what I knew would be there, and
finally finding it; the little knot of flesh buried beneath her vaginal roof,
better known as the Grafenburg Spot. I was sure that she had never been given
a g-spot orgasm before, and I meant to show her what that experience was like.
I was also hoping that she shared a trait with my late wife, who had been a
prolific female ejaculator. (NOTE: I am not trying to restart the female
ejaculation thread, at least not in this group. If you want to argue about it,
e-mail me instead.)

Finding her g-spot, I began palpating it with my fingertips,
pressing firmly into the hard knot of flesh. Meanwhile, I was using my tongue
to firmly, yet gently, caress the area along either side of her clitoral
ridge, thus stimulating her in two powerful ways at once.

“Oh, Jim … that’s good. What are you doing … I’ve never felt
anything like this … Oh yeah …. finger fuck me … lick my clit … make
me come …” Cindy began moaning and mumbling snatches of words and phrases
like these as I once again pushed her up the ladder towards orgasm.

Continuing the finger action inside, I began to lick as much of
her pussy as I could reach outside, pausing to spend a little time at her clit
and a little time probing the opening of her little piss hole right at the top
of her vaginal opening. Within moments, it seemed, though it must have been
about four minutes or so, she was at the edge of a mind shattering g-spot
orgasm. I suddenly felt the inside of her pussy clamp down hard on my fingers
just as her piss hole began to push itself inside out, opening wide and
spurting a jet of womanly fluid into my waiting mouth. I clamped my mouth
over the opening and continued to work her g-spot, milking her of her come,
not a drop of which escaped me. Spurt after spurt of the thick, opaque fluid
streamed past my lips. This was a taste I had missed, and once again I nearly
wept at the memories it brought back. I drank greedily, like a hungry newborn
at its mother’s breast. Working her pussy until I had drained her dry, I
slowly removed my fingers from her still weakly clenching vagina and licked
off the thick coating of her lubricant which had accumulated on them. Giving
her pussy a last, lingering, sucking, kiss, I moved from between her legs to
lay beside her panting form on the bed. I placed my hand over her pubic mound
and gently massaged the entire area.

“I take it that you have never had your g-spot probed?”

Still catching her breath, she managed both a smile and a
comment,” You can say that again. Jim, I’ve read about the g-spot, but
reading and experiencing are two different things. For just a moment I
thought I was pissing into your mouth, but I was too far gone to care. I
didn’t piss on you, did I?”

I laughed. “No, you didn’t piss on me. You came. You
ejaculated, to use the clinical term. Not every woman can do that. Lana
could, and I didn’t know if you could or not. You can have a g-spot orgasm
without shooting your come, but I was hoping you would be a shooter. I just
can’t get enough of that stuff.”

She rolled onto her side facing me and began to lick the excess
pussy juices from my face, finishing with a long, deep kiss.

“Now it’s your turn,” she said, smiling mischievously.

PART 2

“You don’t have to do this you know,” I said, not wanting to make
her feel like I had gone down on her with quid pro quo in mind. “I’d be
perfectly happy just to fuck that beautiful pussy of yours.”

But she was already arranging herself on the bed, positioning her
head over my crotch, her eyes taking in the size of my throbbing erection.
She turned her head to look up at me and she smiled.

“I want to. I never said I didn’t enjoy giving Bob head, I just
said I wanted him to give me some too. You’re not forcing me to do anything,
and believe me, if I didn’t want to, nothing could make me suck this monster
of yours,” she laughed.

Turning back to my cock, she planted a warm, wet, kiss right on
the head, letting her tongue run around the smooth surface and collecting the
shiny dab of pre-come which had collected at the tip. She let the head of my
cock slide between her lips and worked her tongue into the pisshole. She
grasped and stroked my shaft with one hand while her other softly caressed my
balls.

Lifting her mouth off my cockhead for a moment, she adjusted her
position so that she was kneeling between my legs. Then, grasping the base of
my cock just below my balls firmly in her right hand, she pointed the shaft
straight up at her mouth and began one of the most fantastic blowjobs I have
ever received.

I groaned as I felt her warm, wet, mouth slide back over the head
of my cock. She stopped there for a moment, scrubbing the smooth surface with
her tongue, allowing saliva to accumulate until it was escaping her lips and
running down the length of my shaft. Using her spit as a lubricant, she began
to take more and more of my cock in her mouth, working it in with short but
slow strokes.

I watched in fascination as more and more of my manhood
disappeared. Soon, I felt the head of my ten inch dick touch the soft flesh
at the back of her mouth and I saw her change the angle of her head and neck
slightly. I guessed what was coming next, but it still didn’t prepare me for
the sensation I was about to experience for the first time. Lana had never
taken my entire shaft in her mouth. She just hadn’t been able to do it, no
matter how she tried. I hadn’t minded, of course, because the other things we
did to each other were so pleasurable. Still, I had always wondered how it
would feel to have a woman swallow my cock to the root. I was swiftly finding
out.

She didn’t pause once she began the final descent over my cock. I
felt the head of my shaft pass the back of her mouth and slide, seemingly
without effort, into her throat. I could just make out the outline of my cock
as its head entered her neck. Soon, her face was pressed against my pubic
bone and she held it there, her tongue, lips, and throat muscles working
together to cause shockwaves of pleasure to race through my nervous system.

Needing to come up for air, she slowly slid back up the shaft
until the head popped out of her mouth, a thick string of saliva connecting it
to her glistening lips. She looked up at me with a shit-eating grin on her
face; “Did you like that?”

Not waiting for any reply, she confidently returned the head of my
cock to her mouth swallowed my entire length in one, long, smooth, stroke.
She was in no hurry about it, her strokes were each exactly alike. Long
smooth descent, pause at the bottom while her throat muscles worked the head
and shaft of my cock, long, slow ride back to the top until only the head of
my throbbing member remained in her hot oral cavity. I don’t know how I stood
it for as long as I did, but it seemed that the pleasure went on for some time
before I felt the pressure in my balls building up to the exploding point.
She sensed this too, because she suddenly pulled her mouth off my cock and sat
up on the bed, her hands still holding and stroking my shaft, shiny with her
spit.

“I want you to come in my throat and in my mouth, Jim. I want you
to fuck my face.”

Once again she did not wait for my response, but quickly moved to
the edge of the bed and sat up, her feet dangling over the side. It took a
moment for the import of her actions to get through the lust fogging my brain,
but eventually I figured it out and got off the bed, moving to stand with my
cock suspended like a thick, fleshy sword in front her face. She grasped my
shaft with both hands and pulled it to her mouth, which opened wide to
accommodate the massive head of my cock. She was leaning forward slightly,
thus creating a straight tube out of her mouth and throat. Cindy reached her
arms around my hips and pulled me in all the way without hesitation; my balls
resting lightly against her chin as I penetrated her to the base of my cock.
Her face was buried in my crotch and she pressed her lips hard against my
pubic bone, her throat and tongue working me over all the while. She moved
her head from side to side like a dog playing with a slipper and wet, sloppy
sounds were coming from the junction of our bodies.

I didn’t know how she was able to stay down so long without coming
up for air. It seemed like an eternity before she began to pull back,
revealing the shiny, spit coated shaft of my cock as it emerged little by
little from her oral cavity. She grasped it by the base as she removed it
completely, once again remaining connected by a thick strand of saliva. She
looked up at me with a smile, once more.

“Now, Jim. When I take you in this time, you are to stroke your
cock in and out of my throat just like you would if you were fucking my pussy.
I’m going to be playing with my clit and if I’m lucky, we’ll both come. Bob
and I do this all the time and I usually reach orgasm right about the time he
shoots his load. Don’t worry about how I’m doing, just concentrate on your
own feelings, o.k.?”

Without waiting for a response from me, she pulled my now nearly
aching member back into her waiting, willing, mouth and swallowed it once
more. True to her word, I noted that one of her hands had buried itself in
her crotch, her fingers working her pussy in time to the gentle stroking I was
giving her mouth.

I took her head in my hands and started a slow, in and out fucking
motion, not wanting to start to fast, enjoying the sensation of having my
entire 10 inches engulfed on each pass in and out of her sexy mouth. Pretty
soon, though, my lust took over and I began to stroke faster, which caused her
to speed up her clit stroking as well. Now she was groaning, as was I, and
her groans caused vibrations to move up and down my cock, adding to my
pleasure. Saliva was running from both corners of her mouth and dripping down
onto her tits, leaving a shiny trail between them.

I felt my balls start to tighten and I knew that my orgasm was
close at hand. It had been a month or more since I had jerked off last, so I
knew that this was going to be a real blast when it came. She sensed my
closeness to climax as well and she provided one final trick to bring me over
the edge. Using the ample lubricant provided by the saliva leaking from her
tightly stretched lips, she thoroughly coated the index finger of her right
hand and proceeded to push that finger past the portal of my anal sphincter,
gradually working it deep inside my rectum until she found what she was
seeking.

My pleasure had increased as I felt her slide that wet finger into
my ass, but I stayed in control until she found the pleasure button buried
deep inside that forbidden passage. At the first pressure of her finger on my
prostate, I slammed my cock deep into her throat and began to come; great
spurts of hot, thick sperm gushing down her throat. I could see her throat
muscles working to swallow the load. I pulled back to give her a taste as her
mouth continued to work me over. She was coming too, her left hand a blur as
she stroked her clit. She had pulled her finger from my ass and was using her
right hand to stroke more sperm from my cock as her mouth continued to receive
blast after blast of my frothy produce. As our orgasms began to subside, I
slid my still erect cock into her throat one last time, letting her swallowing
action milk the last drops of semen from my rapidly emptying balls.

“That was incredible, Cindy,” was all I could manage as my now
softening cock plopped from her mouth. I flopped back on the bed, temporarily
spent by my powerful climax. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she said as she licked a few stray drops of come
from her lips and crawled up to join me on the bed. “Still want to fuck me,
or did I wear you out?”

I recognized the playful, teasing tone in her voice and responded
in kind.

“Just give me a minute and I’ll give you all the pussy pounding
you can stand. Remember, you’re talking to a guy who cock hasn’t seen the
inside of a pussy for over a year.”

Part III

I got up from the bed and went to the kitchen to get us each
something to drink. As I was getting a couple of cold ones from the fridge I
reflected on what had just transpired. Reflected in some disbelief. I had
just exchanged oral orgasms with the wife of a friend. Not a good friend, but
a friend none the less. Guilt? I was feeling some.

The next moment I was feeling something else. A warm, definitely
female, body pressed against my back and two arms reaching around my front to
take possession of my cock and balls with gentle hands. My cock was almost
instantly erect. Rational thought quickly fled as Cindy’s nimble fingers
swiftly stroked my 10 incher to its throbbing fullness.

“I got lonely and thought I’d see what you were up to,” Cindy
giggled, continuing to caress my cock and balls.

“Mmmm, I’m glad. I like what you’re doing, but I’ve got a better
idea,” I replied, setting the soda cans on the counter and momentarily
disengaging myself from her pleasurable embrace.

I turned to face her, planting a long kiss on her upturned mouth.
“Let’s do it right here, right now,” I said breaking the kiss. She responded
by moving to the counter and leaning over it, presenting me with a great view
of her ass and the pouting pussy my cock was so eager to enter.

And, applying a little spit to the head of my sex sword, I notched
it between those slick, newly shaven pussy lips and inserted the whole thing
in one long stroke. Cindy groaned with pleasure as she felt the last inch
push home. She ground her hips against my belly in a slow, sensuous circle.
Man… that pussy felt great as she gripped my cock, using her interior
vaginal muscles to work my more sensitive surfaces. Having gone without for
so long, you might expect that I came close to shooting right on the spot.
Amazingly enough, though it felt great, I knew that I was going to last a long
time, probably thanks to the terrific blow job I’d just enjoyed. I settled
down to a nice, easy stroke and prepared to go the distance. Cindy had other
ideas.

“C’mon Jim, fuck me harder. My pussy’s like a firecracker and its
gonna blow any second!”

Grabbing her hips, I increased my pace and began slamming my cock
to the depths of her soaking wet cunt as hard as I could. She helped, pushing
back as hard as she could as I stroked to her depths. We were both breathing
in grunts and squishing, slapping noises filled the kitchen. I lubbed her
asshole with some butter from the kitchen counter and started finger fucking
her back door, eventually working two fingers all the way to the last knuckle.
With my fingers buried in her ass, I could feel my cock sliding in and out of
her tight, hot, pussy. It felt good to stroke myself while I was stuffed in
her to the balls. She was loving every minute of it. She had one hand
between her legs stroking her clit for all she was worth, occasionally
reaching back to stroke my slick, wet, cock as I continued to plumb her
depths. We were blind to everything around us, concentrated on our individual
and combined pleasure, fucking for all we were worth. Cindy was coming
continuously, her contractions squeezing my cock and fingers like twin vices.

Wanting to slow the action a little and make it last, and for other
reasons which will shortly become apparent, I gradually reduced the length and
speed of my stroking both fore and aft until I was only moving slightly, grinding
against Cindy’s beautiful ass, my cock and fingers buried as deep in her two tunnels
as possible.

“Oh, god, Jim, that’s wonderful. I’ve never felt so full. You’re
the first person to ever put anything in my ass. I never let Bob even touch
me back there. You had me so hot I didn’t even notice until you had two fingers
inside.”

“You liked it then?”

“Liked it! I loved it!”

“I think you’d like my cock back there,” I said, massaging her rectal
walls with my fingers.

“Ooooo, Jim. I don’t know. Your cock is bigger than your fingers.
Won’t it hurt?” She turned her head and gave me a look filled with the com-
bination of aprehension and lust.

“Not anymore than my fingers did. Not very much at all if we do it
right. Once we really get going, you’ll love it. I promise. And if you don’t
or if for any reason you want to stop, we’ll stop. I can tell you this, though,
Lana loved it in the ass almost as much as she loved getting eaten.”

“O.k., Jim. I’m game.”

Very slowly, as a sort of tease, I pulled my glistening cock from the
clasping confines of her pussy, and then did the same with my fingers. Cindy
groaned as she was relieved of my rigid intruders.

“I feel so empty,” she moaned as I turned her and pulled her to me
for a kiss.

“Don’t worry, we’ll have you filled to the rim in no time,” I responded,
covering her mouth with mine, our tongues soon battling and exploring.

Breaking the embrace, I took her hand and we walked to the bathroom.

“What are we going to do here?”

“Just as oral sex takes physical preparation, so does anal. For
starters, we’re going to give you an enema.”

“WHAT?” Cindy expressed surprise, but at the same time she was having
trouble supressing a giggle.

I showed her my fingers, still partially covered with butter, and
another foreign substance.

“Oh, yeah. I suppose it would be a good idea to be clean back there
before you go putting in your cock.” She was still fighting the urge to snicker.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing really, except that my mother used to make us all take
enemas when we were little, and the memory just struck me funny, that’s all.”

I quickly made preparations, getting out the enema bag and filling it
with warm, soapy water and hanging it from the shower curtain rod. I positioned
Cindy on her knees with her torso draped over the edge of the tub, a towel underneath
her chest to minimize the effects of the cold porcelin.

Carefully spreading the cheeks of her delightful ass, I used a wash cloth
to wipe away the remains of the butter I had used earlier. “Wow,” I thought,
“I really must have gotten carried away to use butter as an anal lube — not a
good idea — but, I’ll have it cleaned out in a jiffy.”

Satisfied that the butter had been removed from her outsides, I turned
my attention to cleaning Cindy’s insides. Applying a liberal amount of KY to the
outside and inside of her anal ring, I did the same to the enema nozzle and began
to slowly, gently, insert it.

“Hmmmm, that feels nice, Jim.”

When the nozzle was fully inserted, I began to release the contents of
the enema bag into her rectum, being careful not allow the flow to become too fast
giving her rear cavity time to adjust.

Judging by the small moans and sighs coming from Cindy, the warm water
was flowing just right.

Soon, I had given her all the water/soap mixture I was going to. I
pulled the nozzle from her now clenched rectal ring and instructed her to lie down
on her back on the softly carpeted bathroom floor, being careful not to release
the contents of her bowel before I gave her permission.

When she was in position, I gently spread her legs and began to feast
on her pussy once more, cleaning up the excess of juices produced by our previous
encounter in the kitchen and bringing her to a small orgasm in the process.

After a few minutes, I stopped my oral ministrations and had her sit on
the toilet and let the enema finish its cleansing work. She seemed slightly em-
barassed to have me be present as she emptied herself into the toilet bowl, her
fluttering sphincter making a rather rude noise.

We both laughed, and when she was done, I started the shower. We
got in and quickly cleaned one another off, me paying particular attention to
her backside, while Cindy soaped my cock to a tingling state of rigidity.

Before long, we were towled dry and embracing on the bed once more.

“Are you ready, Cindy?”

“I guess so, Jim. Just go easy, o.k.?”

“I’m not going to hurt you Cindy. Trust me.”

Kissing her passionately for a moment, I proceeded to the task at
hand.

“Lay on your stomach, Cindy,” I said as I positioned a pillow under her
abdomen, “and spread your legs a little. There, that’s it.”

I paused a moment to admire the view of Cindy with her beautiful ass in
the air, her hairless pussy lips puffy and already showing the dew of her arousal.
I was tempted to just fuck her in the cunt, being momentarily afraid of what I
would do if she didn’t like anal sex. This wasn’t Lana, no matter how much our
sexual encounter reminded me of my late wife and lover. This was Cindy. But
the sight of her squeaky clean asshole nestled between a pair of the loveliest
cheeks this side of Nina Hartley decided things for me. I had to have that ass,
no matter the risks involved. And there were risks. For one thing, I didn’t have
any condoms. As things turned out, nothing bad resulted, but could have.

I began to plant little kisses on each of those lovely globes spread
out before me, working my way toward the groove which bifurcated them. My tongue
emerged from between my lips and spread warmth and wetness as it traveled up and
down the groove of her ass, finally stopping at the entrance to her rear chamber.

Cindy moaned as she felt my tongue press against her anus. The enema and
our earlier sex play had really relaxed her back there and I was easily able to
slip my tongue past the muscular barrier, thrusting it slowly in and out just as
I planned to do with my cock in just a moment.

While my tongue was working her back door, my fingers were gently stroking
the lips of her sex, occasionally straying to pay some attention to her clitoris.
Her hips thrust back at me, forcing my tongue deeper into her ass, gathering more
of her musky taste and smell in which my senses longed to wallow.

I withdrew my tongue and fingers from her nether regions as I reached
for the bottle of special lubricant a pharmacist friend of mine concocted. Squeezing
a generous ammount on my fingers, I began to work it into and around Cindy’s
virgin asshole, massaging, relaxing, preparing the tight ring of muscle tissue
for the assault it was about to experience. Two more applications and I felt she
was as lubricated as it was possible to make her.

As a final touch, I knee-walked up the bed to where her head was.

“Cindy. Look at my cock,” I said as I began to cover it with a
thick coat of the slippery gel. “Watch me make it ready for you. Does it make
you hot to know that in just a moment I’m going to be fucking you in the ass with
my cock?”

“Mmmmmm, it really makes me hot. I want your cock in my ass. I want
you to take my ass cherry.”

Applying more gel, I stroked my hand up and down the length of my now
massive hardon, letting her see the thick coating of lubricant which would enable
this large tube of flesh to invade her most private region with a minimum of dis-
comfort, and we hoped, a lot of pleasure.

“Spread your ass cheeks for me Cindy. Open yourself for my cock,” I
said as I resumed my position between her spread legs.

“Yessss, Jim. Here it is. Here’s my ass. I want your cock in there.”

She had her fingers right next to her asshole and she was literally holding
it open for me. I centered the tip of my cock at the opening and began to push.
Gently, ever so slowly, I slid the head of my cock through the sphinctoral plane.

There was almost no resistance, so thoroughly had I prepared the both of
us. Relaxation and lubrication. That combination is, IMHO, the key to good anal
sex. Inch by inch, with steady but slow movement, my shaft slid into the depths of her
ass. Cindy had stopped breathing when my cockhead had fully penetrated her outer
defenses. She didn’t start again until she felt my shaft fully seat itself within
her, my pubic hair pressing her ass cheeks, my balls resting on the swollen lips
of her achingly empty cunt.

“Ooooohhhhhh….mmmmyyyyyy…..gawwwwwddd. Your cock feels like it’s going
to pop out of my mouth any second. I’m sooooo full.”

“Are you in pain?”

“No. No pain. Just soooo full. Don’t move yet. Let me get used to
it.”
That, of course, was my plan all along. Full introduction followed by
a brief intermission before the real fun started.

Her ass was tight, and I could feel her conducting little experiments
with her internal muscles, massaging the length of my cock, testing her own feelings.
When I felt her hips begin to rock a little beneath me, I knew she was ready for
more.

Using the same deliberation I had shown while pushing in, I slowly
began to remove the glistening instrument of Cindy’s pleasure until only the
head remained inside. Not quite as slowly, I pushed it all the way back inside.

“Yessss,” Cindy hissed, “that’s good. Sooo goood. Just go slow like
that for a while. God, you’re so big. I can’t believe it goes inside my ass
so easily.”

I continued my slow strokes, resting my weight on my arms and knees,
pressing her abdomen hard into the pillow as I bottomed out each time. If it
felt good to her, it felt INCREDIBLE to me. Hot, tight, slick, her asshole
sucked my cock almost like her mouth and throat had earlier. And why shouldn’t
it — after all, it was just the other end of the same system, wasn’t it?

I was relaxed, enjoying the leisurly pace, knowing that I wouldn’t feel
the need to dump my sperm in Cindy’s ass for a while. I just let the pleasure
wash over me for a time, maintaining the slow rythmn of my cock in Cindy’s ass.

It was Cindy who decided to pick up the pace. She shoved her hand
between her body and the pillow and began to frig her clit and pussy lips, at
the same time grinding her ass into me as I stroked down into her.

Almost as if on cue … “Fuck me harder, Jim. I love it in my ass.
I never knew it could be like this. Oh, Lana, you were so right about so much.”
Cindy’s voice trailed off into sighs and moans as I began to move inside her
with a little more force.

When I decided to really turn up the pace, I pulled her to her knees,
indicating with my hands on her back that she was to keep her shoulders down, and
began to really start fucking her ass.

I grabbed her hips in my hands and began to slam our bodies together,
ramming the full length of my cock in and out on each stroke, sometimes even exposing
my coronal ridge on the outstroke. Each time this happened, Cindy gasped as her
ring was re-opened by my cock.

“Ohh, Jim. You’re gonna make me come…you’re gonna make me come in
my ass.”

Cindy’s fingers were working furiously on her pussy and the strength and
rythmn of her pulsing ass muscles clearly demonstrated to me that she was close.
So was I.

I was really reaming her now, our bodies making loud slapping noises
as we collided time after time. I was squating behind her, my knees outside her
hips, my hands still pulling her to me, getting maximum penetration on each stroke.
Cindy screamed as her orgasm hit her full force, her anal sphincter clenching
around my cock with almost painful force. Then the force was released for a
moment only to return, harder than ever. Clench. Release. Clench. Release.
The waves of her orgasm swept across her overloaded pleasure circuits like a storm
tide.

She wasn’t screaming anymore, but she was moaning — shaking her head from
side to side. Saliva dripped from the side of her wide open mouth, her eyes
clenched shut, her whole being focused on our connecting point.

My own climax fast approaching, I began to jackhammer my cock in her
ass with quick, deep strokes, feeling her ass muscle grip me with each spasm
in a grip every bit as tight as my own hand could provide.

With a shout of pleasure, I rammed into her once more, burying my
steaming stalk to the root in her rectum. A moment later, she was screaming as
she felt my hot man-juice begin to spray the deflowered walls of her back
channel.

After the first spurt, I began to stroke furiously in and out of the
clenching tunnel, my sap adding to the slipperyness already there, until the last
spasms had emptied my balls. I held it deep for a moment, but it had already
begun to soften. I pulled my cock out of her ass — she gripped me hard one more
time as the head reached the rim — and stretched out on the bed, pulling her
to me so that we lay like spoons.

So a month after our vacation at the Five Roses ranch, we
drove in separate cars to Catmandou, a live-entertainment club. I
was wearing four-inch heels and a red satiny oriental dress,
baring my back to just below the waist and slit to the thigh. I
found a table in a dimly lit corner. The place was decorated with
nostalgia gimmicks no one would want in their home but somehow
looked just right in the lounge. I gazed around the crowd and
listened to the three-piece band’s soft music.

Minutes later, Bill walked in, sat at the bar and ordered a
wine cooler. He acknowledged me with a smile, then turned away.
He glanced back now and then as several men eyed me, clearly with
sexual intentions.

When I wear heels, some men under 6 feet avoid making passes
at me because of my 5′8″ height. This was the problem this night
until a tall attractive man, his hair black as my own, noticed
Bill glancing toward me from the bar. Attired in a dark blue
blazer, white polo shirt, and white tropical slacks, he turned as
I smiled quietly at Bill, not the stranger; but the man lifted
his drink, sauntered over to my table, and grinned, “With
anyone?”

I responded, “I am now, I suppose,” smiling as I appraised
his blue eyes and lean physique. I aged him at 28. He was wearing
a white gold wedding ring like mine, but I pretended not to
notice, and so did he.

He squinted at me through the dimness and, with a look of
surprise, remarked, “I haven’t seen anyone with gray eyes in
years!”

I smiled, “An inherited trait.” I hear that a lot; there
aren’t many of us. When gray-eyed people see each other, they
silently smile in acknowledgement, just as I’ve been told a young
person with prematurely gray hair returns a smile to another.

He gave me his name, Phil, but his occupation gave me a
start; he was a new attorney with the law firm that set up Bill’s
corporation and was now advising Bill’s office manager, Steve,
who runs the business side of Bill’s engineering practice. We
engaged in small talk, complimenting the other until he finally
asked me to dance.

On the dance floor, he held me closely. Men from around the
room looked disappointed that they hadn’t asked me first. The
touch of his cheek brushing mine, as Bill watched, excited me. By
the middle of the second song, he was gently pressing his groin
against mine. I was fighting to control my gasps as I felt his
firmness growing beneath his slacks. My face burned at his openly
sexual gesture, but soon in excitation, I was brushing my mound
against his hardness. I could feel my nipples tingling against
the satin of my dress. He whispered, “Do you have plans tonight?”

“Don’t you have to go home?” I queried, my voice trembling
as I remembered his wedding ring.

“My wife’s a pharmaceutical sales rep,” he said softly.
“She’s in Chicago until Tuesday at her company’s headquarters
gathering.” He’d remembered my own ring and had no reason to lie.

I allowed him to press me closer. His skin radiated a heat
like my own. The female singer’s long, slow melody of adulterous
longing seemed dedicated to our entertwined bodies. When it
ended, I realized Bill and I hadn’t planned this very well. I
lied, “My husband’s at a convention. I have no plans, Phil.” We
bantered about a bit as I tried to think of what to do until
finally he came right out with it, “Can we spend the night at
your place?” His swollen cock was now massaging my clitoris.

I was breathing heavily, my eyes wild. My throat throbbed
fearfully, choked with increasing desire, as I breathed, “I’d
like to visit the ladies’ room.”

He nodded, saying, “I’ll meet you back here in a couple of
minutes.”

When he walked through the crowd to the cashier’s desk in
another room, I strode quickly to Bill, explaining the situation.
As usual, Bill was wonderful; he grinned, “Great. I’ll drive over
to the office and sleep on the couch. If I come home about five
a.m., will that be enough time?” I agreed, and Bill returned to
his drink as I waited at the door for Phil.

We drove in separate cars. The late evening streets were
still wet from a brief Florida thundershower. The Mercedes’
diesel engine throbbed like my chest. Although I’d slept with
other men, this would be my first true “date.” The multi-colored
lights of neon signs, street lamps, and a line of cars streaming
west to the suburbs cast long brilliant reflections on the wet
highway. I glanced back now and then at Phil’s red Fiero
following closely.

Stopping at a traffic light a block from the lounge, I
stared at a Cadillac’s bumper sticker ahead of me and smiled. The
bumper sticker read, “Lead Me Not Into Lust, For I Shall Find It
Myself.”

We emerged from separate cars into our garage. He murmured,
“My god, I just noticed the name on the mailbox! I know your
husband, by name anyway!”

I laughed. “I told you my name at the lounge. You didn’t ask
for my husband’s. Don’t be so up-tight, Phil!” Actually, I was
more tense than Phil, not from his association with the law firm
but from the desire that had grown with each mile I drove home.
Inside, Phil removed his coat, poured a drink from our bar and
searched out a diet soda from the refrigerator for me. He walked
upstairs to meet me in the bedroom.

I’d turned on the stereo and flicked on a table lamp,
bathing the room in a dim red glow that seemed to accentuate my
inner heat. I turned, my hands on my hips and legs spread wide on
the carpet as I faced him. He stared, his manhood bulging beneath
his slacks, and breathed, “God, you’re incredible!”

My breasts heaved as he set the drinks on the nightstand and
took me in his arms. He unzipped my dress, puddling it onto the
floor, then unbuttoned his shirt. I trembled, barely able to
stand as he grinded his hardness against my clitoris. I fell to
my knees and pulled away his slacks, his nine-inch instrument
bobbing against my lips as his fingers stroked my neck. I moaned
at his sensuous touch. I was mesmerized by the dark, purple-
veined cock that I was now stroking, my hand squeezing it back
and forth from its black mass of pubic hair to the broad, bulging
head. I oval-ed my lips over the rubbery head, sucking it slowly
as he groaned, “Oh god, Ellen, you’re terrific, oh god, oh
god…” My tongue slid along his length as his hips writhed,
pushing it beyond the back of my throat. The smoothness glided
through me until I was delerious with passion. I became one with
his cock and the throaty music drifting from the stereo. I flamed
with desire, my eyes wildly rolling up at him as I whimpered with
each stroke into the fullness of my quivering lips.

He leaned to cup my breasts, then kneeled behind me as his
strong hands kneaded the softness of my breasts.

I fell against his hands until my arms braced against the
floor. I shuddered as his warm cock brushed my flaming vagina
from the rear. I muttered, my voice quaking, “I’m on fire, Phil.
I’m yours!” My hips gyrated, tremoring as his lengthy hardness
entered my lubricated channel. My vaginal walls stretched with
each thrilling inch to accommodate him. And then he had sheathed
the tool to its hilt as my mouth opened widely, my eyes rolling
with the adulterous passion that gripped my searing soul. His
long shaft radiated, steaming in the hot coals of my cunt.

Wailing as he fucked me wildly, I swirled my hips to his
rhythm. I turned my head to watch as his hips bumped against my
buttocks, further inflaming my passion. Each entry throbbed
against my clitoris until, deep within, I could feel the
thunderous waters of an orgasmic flood rushing up to burst
through me. I began to cry, tears streaking down my cheeks. His
blue eyes glinted. He was biting his lip in excitation when I
felt his cock swelling. He was about to come with me. He groaned
passionately. Our eyes locked. As his cock expanded within me I
spread my legs further as if I could somehow allow my vagina to
hold even more. I was biting the softness of my lower lip as I
cried, “It’s super, Phil! Super! I LOVE it!” I reached behind to
touch his chest as his cock fucked into my hot, wet depths, which
were now a vortex of mega-lust that gripped the broad cock-head
sliding through my love tunnel.

He increased his tempo. The building orgasm was still
distant but now rushing up like a mad prehistoric beast screaming
for air from primeval depths of a misty cavern. The earth opened
before me. I was falling through a bottomless chasm of adulterous
pleasure with his every thrust, my mind enveloping an unknown
universe inhabited by only me and Phil. I shuddered. The beast
within was insane with pleasure. My whoring had now spanned eons,
all sense of time lost as I cried out frightfully. I was praying
for the oncoming super-orgasm but fearing I could no longer bear
the passionate explosion.

And then, OH GOD! It rolled over us like a landslide! My
mind and body exploded with staggering force! Gigantic stars
crashed as I screamed in ecstasy, feeling his warm sperm
splattering through my channel. The planet was quaking beneath me
as I sobbed in release from the bondage of this adulterous love.
Crying, I collapsed, tremoring beneath the white heat of his
body.

Later, in the afterglow, we drank wine, watching erotic
movies on our large-screen VCR from our bed until, finally, he
mounted me again, missionary position, fucking me slowly. I
screamed with a second, then third, then fourth orgasm, until he
came, shuddering atop me. Dazed, I muttered, “I love you,” and
meaning it at that moment of gratitude. When he replied, “That’s
nice,” because Phil couldn’t lie, I laughed and hit him softly
with my fist.

He left at three a.m. I dialed Bill’s office. When Bill was
in bed beside me a half hour later, I described Phil’s fucking me
just as I’m telling you here, until Bill’s manhood had risen and
was eagerly entering my vagina. At times like these, I almost
feel a control over him. I moaned, muttering my feelings of
passionately fucking Phil as Bill thrust into me. I could feel
his tool expand to awesome proportions, until finally, reliving
my adultery, I came again; Bill groaned, his sperm splattering
warmly into my vagina. We lay side by side facing each other as I
answered his questions about my feelings when fucking other men.
I admitted, “You lead me into these situations, but once I’m
united with another, I can think only of him and me. Sometimes I
forget I’m married.” When his eyebrows arched, I smiled, “But I
still love you.”

Exhausted, I fell asleep. When I awoke with the sunrise,
Bill was still looking down at me, grinning in approval.

A month later, my former career as a photographer’s model
would develop into into another kind of picture…

Breaking the torrid kiss, Paul stepped back away from me and whispered
for me to hold my dress up over my hips so everyone could see. I felt so
helpless as my hands moved quickly to do what he said. I had no control over
anything I did. There I stood, my panties pulled down, totally exposed to
everyone around me.