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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I lose.

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

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

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

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

…End of the part1. To be continued..

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–

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

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

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

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

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

“Can you walk on it?”

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

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

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

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

“Did you enjoy the view?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s my pleasure.”

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

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

“Let me worry about the damn foot,” she replied. “I’ll let you
know if it hurts, you can be sure of that!” And with that, she
reached down, grabbed the hem of her T-shirt and pulled it over her
head. She shook her brown curly hair as the shirt came off and
dropped the shirt on the floor. She grabbed my head and drew it to
her breasts. I wallowed my face in those glorious mounds of flesh,
licking and kissing them all over. I ran my tongue around and around
…End of the part1. To be continued..

Archive-title: Jenny

I had always liked Jenny, though I didn’t know her well personally. We

worked together on the night shift. Us night-timers have a slightly different

perspective on the world that most other people on ‘normal’ shifts. We’re often

driving on streets devoid of life at 3AM, and spend a lot of time at home

because nothing’s open. And then we sleep through the morning, when everybody

else is alive and awake. It’s a very lonely life most of the time.

Jenny suffered from this as much as I. She had come to town almost a year

ago, and because of her hours, she hadn’t had so much as one date in all that

time. Often she would grumble about the lack of a social/sex life. There were

plenty of guys on the night shift, but for some reason she didn’t seem

interested. More than a few of them were interested, though. She stood about 5

foot seven and was rather busty. She was a bit overweight, but not seriously

and I found it quite a turn-on. It made her seem more real, somehow. More than

once I had half-jokingly offered my services, only to be turned down with an

appreciative smile. I could never seem to work up the nerve to come out and ask

her for a date. Mostly it was because I was certain she’d turn me down and

rejection was something I didn’t really care for.

I don’t know what got into me one night. It was a Saturday and we both had

gotten roped into putting in a ‘little overtime’. If you consider 10 hours

‘little’. Anyway, it was about 9PM and we both sat down to lunch. Since there

was no one else there we actually talked to each other. Somehow the

conversation got around to dates, and I asked her just what it was she looked

for in a guy.

“Well,” she said musingly, “looks aren’t all that important, I guess. A good

personality is more important.” She was silent for a moment, thinking. “Right

now what I would like to find most is somebody who’s good in bed. After a year

of nothing I’m getting kind of, well, itchy.”

My heart gave a jump at that and my temperature rose ten degrees. I got up

to get a cup of coffee from the machine behind her. As I did, I said, “How do

you expect to find somebody like that? Advertise?”

She chuckled. “I can see it now: Lonely woman seeks good fucker. Low pay but

great fringe benefits.”

“Those benefits look pretty good to me.” I said, still standing behind her

and sipping my coffee. My heart had calmed, but I was still tense.

Anticipatory, perhaps. “But seriously, that’s what you’re looking for? Not just

any old guy who can get it up?”

“Uh uh.” She said softly, almost dreamily. “It would be tempting, but hell,

if the guy doesn’t know what he’s doing, it just isn’t really worthwhile. Not

for me, anyway. For him it’s probably great.”

The it was my turn to laugh. “Yeah, I guess so. Some guys are like that.

They just want to, um, get off and go to sleep. But there are some who are

different, ya know.”

“Oh, really?” she said, still seemingly in a trance.

“Sure.” I said. I put the cup down. “For some of us half the fun is in

making the other person feel good.” I placed my hands on her shoulders, though

…End of the part1. To be continued..

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Archive-title: Jenny

I had always liked Jenny, though I didn’t know her well personally. We

worked together on the night shift. Us night-timers have a slightly different

perspective on the world that most other people on ‘normal’ shifts. We’re often

driving on streets devoid of life at 3AM, and spend a lot of time at home

because nothing’s open. And then we sleep through the morning, when everybody

else is alive and awake. It’s a very lonely life most of the time.

Jenny suffered from this as much as I. She had come to town almost a year

ago, and because of her hours, she hadn’t had so much as one date in all that

time. Often she would grumble about the lack of a social/sex life. There were

plenty of guys on the night shift, but for some reason she didn’t seem

interested. More than a few of them were interested, though. She stood about 5

foot seven and was rather busty. She was a bit overweight, but not seriously

and I found it quite a turn-on. It made her seem more real, somehow. More than

once I had half-jokingly offered my services, only to be turned down with an

appreciative smile. I could never seem to work up the nerve to come out and ask

her for a date. Mostly it was because I was certain she’d turn me down and

rejection was something I didn’t really care for.

I don’t know what got into me one night. It was a Saturday and we both had

gotten roped into putting in a ‘little overtime’. If you consider 10 hours

‘little’. Anyway, it was about 9PM and we both sat down to lunch. Since there

was no one else there we actually talked to each other. Somehow the

conversation got around to dates, and I asked her just what it was she looked

for in a guy.

“Well,” she said musingly, “looks aren’t all that important, I guess. A good

personality is more important.” She was silent for a moment, thinking. “Right

now what I would like to find most is somebody who’s good in bed. After a year

of nothing I’m getting kind of, well, itchy.”

My heart gave a jump at that and my temperature rose ten degrees. I got up

to get a cup of coffee from the machine behind her. As I did, I said, “How do

you expect to find somebody like that? Advertise?”

She chuckled. “I can see it now: Lonely woman seeks good fucker. Low pay but

great fringe benefits.”

“Those benefits look pretty good to me.” I said, still standing behind her

and sipping my coffee. My heart had calmed, but I was still tense.

Anticipatory, perhaps. “But seriously, that’s what you’re looking for? Not just

any old guy who can get it up?”

“Uh uh.” She said softly, almost dreamily. “It would be tempting, but hell,

if the guy doesn’t know what he’s doing, it just isn’t really worthwhile. Not

for me, anyway. For him it’s probably great.”

The it was my turn to laugh. “Yeah, I guess so. Some guys are like that.

They just want to, um, get off and go to sleep. But there are some who are

different, ya know.”

“Oh, really?” she said, still seemingly in a trance.

“Sure.” I said. I put the cup down. “For some of us half the fun is in

making the other person feel good.” I placed my hands on her shoulders, though

…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.

–

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!

–

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

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

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

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

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

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

…End of the part1. To be continued..